So I Married a Werewolf (Entangled Covet) (11 page)

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Authors: Kristin Miller

Tags: #engagement of convenience, #Kristin Miller, #best friends to lovers, #paranormal romance, #PNR, #Gone with the Wolf, #ugly duckling, #werewolves, #Entangled, #fated mates, #Four Weddings and a Werewolf, #So I Married a Werewolf, #Covet, #marriage of convenience

BOOK: So I Married a Werewolf (Entangled Covet)
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As she walked away, knees shaking, she chanced a glance back. Carter cursed and kicked the post. The light flickered on.

Chapter Sixteen

Carter didn’t go up to the room right away. He couldn’t think straight. Faith was driving him crazy. She was giving him all kinds of signals—staring at him with those smoky brown eyes, pressing down the front of her sweater to push out her breasts, bumping into him, and flirting with that coy little smile of hers. When he kissed her, she kissed him back. When he touched her skin, she warmed for him, nearly bending into his touch.

Yet she pushed him away.

Was she interested in someone else? Was it Hotel Rat Rick?

Carter paced around the lobby, walked by the pool, checked out the hotel’s gym and sauna. He found himself on the fourth floor and pushed through the double doors onto the balcony where he’d gotten married a little more than twenty-four hours before.

The wind was so cold, it burned. He lifted his hands to the sky, letting thick droplets of rain lance into his palms. After a few deep breaths, he felt better. Soaked through, but his anger had washed away.

He’d made a mess of things. If he knew how it’d happened, he might have an idea how to straighten them out. But he didn’t.

He went back inside, up to their floor, and let himself into their suite. The lights were off, but he couldn’t mistake Faith’s curves covered with the floral comforter. She was facing the wall, curled up on the far side of the bed.

Looked like he was the one sleeping in the tub tonight.

Taking a spare pillow and blanket out of the closet, Carter stared at the tub. It was built for two, but that didn’t make the porcelain any warmer. Choosing the floor near the bed over the tub, he threw the blanket onto the carpet and tossed the pillow on top. He stripped out of his clothes and stepped into a pair of pajama pants. Exhaling heavily, he lay down, facing the opposite direction as Faith.

Her soft inhale of breath somehow seemed to soothe him. The rhythm started slow and calm, relaxing him into a light slumber. But within a few seconds, her breathing changed. Short, desperate gasps for air were followed by exhales and whimpers. She cried out, flailing on the bed.

Had she woken up?

He got up and came to her side of the bed.

Eyes pinched shut, Faith thrashed through the covers. “Get away from me. No, no, don’t. Please, I’ll—help!” As a strangled cry escaped from her throat, she threw herself back against the pillows and grasped at her throat.

Nightmare.
Had to be about the night she was attacked.

“Shhh,” Carter said, sliding into bed beside her. “Faith, it’s okay.”

She swung for him and connected a jab to his chin. “Somebody help me!”

Pain burst through his jaw—the woman could hit.

“Faith, it’s Carter.” He dodged the next blows, but pure instinct warned him against holding her arms. He didn’t want to reenact the night she was attacked and freak her out more. “Wake up, sweetie, it’s a nightmare. It’s only a dream.”

As she continued to whale on him, one hand covering her neck, the other striking out with surprising force, Carter ducked, continuing to talk her down.

“Faith.” He covered his head. “Faith, wake up!”

She huffed, out of breath. Her hits weakened.

“Faith,” he soothed, brushing a hand down her hair. “It’s okay, calm down. No one’s going to hurt you again.”

At his words, tears fell from her eyes and rolled down her cheek onto her pillow. She took a jagged breath of air. It shuddered out of her. Her eyes remained closed tight, her arms tucked against her chest.

Was she awake? Settling into a better dream?

“It’s okay.” Carter wiped away the tears on her cheek with his thumb. “I’m here now. I’ll take care of you.”

He wasn’t sure where the words came from, but he knew he meant them.

A little mewing sound flowed past her lips, and she nuzzled into his chest, her arms clasped tightly between them. Her body was warm. Her hair smelled fresh and sweet, like raspberries and cream, as if she’d just washed it before hopping into bed. Hesitantly, Carter lifted her head and laid it in the crook between his arm and his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

“It’s okay now,” he whispered, resting his head against hers. “Sleep…”

She wiggled against him, pressing her body flush against his, chest to chest, hip to hip. The closeness made his body go rock hard…every part. She was supple and soft where he was rugged and firm. Her cheek touched his, a silky caress against a shadow of stubble.

The more he thought about her body, its warmth and closeness, its voluptuous curves, the harder he became. He adjusted his hips away from her, but she seemed to chase him, wiggling her body closer.

Distract yourself. Don’t think about her that way.

Listen to the rain beating against the windows. Listen to the heater kicking on. The thumping of footsteps as someone strode down the hall. Focus on the sheets, the pillow beneath his head, the plushness of the mattress. Focus on her button-up flannel pajamas and how they weren’t sexy at all. Nope.

Shit, none of it helped.

His stomach clenched as she made a little whimper from deep within her throat. He tightened his grip around her waist, digging his fingers into the extra curves she had there. God, how many times had he wanted a woman who had a little something to hold on to? Something soft to sink into.

Get out of bed. She’s still asleep, you jerk.

Lifting the covers, Carter slunk away, his body inching off the bed.

“Don’t go,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me.”

He swallowed hard, his throat dry like sandpaper. “I can’t stay.”

She nuzzled into him once more, torturing him with her drugging feminine scent. Her dangerous curves begged to be traced with his fingers, his tongue.

“Are you awake?” he asked, pulling back to look at her. The moonlight streaming through the window caught on the angles of her face, the dainty slope of her nose and tiny spot above her lips. “Faith?”

“Stay,” she mumbled. “Just stay.”

He couldn’t resist…slowly, so he wouldn’t spook her, he touched that section of between her nose and mouth as if he were shh-ing her.

Her eyelashes fluttered, and her lids peeled apart. “I don’t want to sleep alone. Not tonight.” She blinked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “Can you at least hold me until I fall back asleep?”

He nodded and hugged her against him.

They’d fallen asleep together on her couch before, so why did this time feel different from all the other times? There were other Friday movie nights where he’d covered her so she wouldn’t be cold, and lay behind her until morning. He’d never heard one of her nightmares before, though. Was that the reason this felt different?

No, it was the stirring inside him that made him want to strip those flannel PJs off her body. The wrenching ache in his gut that warned this feeling wouldn’t dissipate with the rising of the sun.

“Carter?” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to go back to sleep yet.” Her voice shook. “When I close my eyes, I see his face.”

“The wolf that attacked you?”

She nodded against his bare chest.

“What happened to him?” He’d never asked her. There’d never been a good time. “Did the pack put him on trial?”

“No…” She shivered, so he pulled the blankets up to her neck. “After he killed my parents and attacked my brother, he came after me. But I’d already made it to the phone and called the police. He bit me…”

She paused and sighed.

He stroked his hands up and down her back. “I’m sorry I asked. You don’t have to tell me.”

“Instead of the police breaking down my front door,” she continued, “it was a team of enforcers, I learned later. The wolf stared straight at them as he clawed the side of my neck…”

Without thinking, Carter trailed two fingers down her scar, from her ear, down the side. She trembled, but she didn’t shrink away. If the wolf that marred her flawless skin that way wasn’t already dead, Carter would’ve killed him.

“As soon as he clawed through my neck, the enforcers tased him and dragged him away. I lost so much blood that I passed out. When I came to, he was dead. My parents were gone. Dawson barely survived the mauling. The enforcers took us to your pack’s Alpha, Drake Wilder. He told us about werewolves, shifting, and our upcoming transition.”

“That had to be difficult,” Carter said. He was born a werewolf and couldn’t imagine being turned and having to adapt to transitioning into one if it was unexpected. The fact that there was a secret society of werewolves living in Seattle had to be a lot to take in for a non-shifter. “I’m so sorry.”

She coiled her arms around his shoulders and burrowed into his neck. “I still dream about him sometimes. In all the wolves I’ve seen since then, I’ve never seen one so gruesome. He was pure evil. His eyes were red and he—”

“Shh.” Carter said, stroking her back. Her skin had chilled during the retelling—he could feel a damp coldness seeping through the flannel. “Nothing’s going to hurt you now.”

She looked up at him. “It’s hard to tell dream from reality sometimes.”

“Close your eyes,” he said. “I’ll stay with you as long as you need me to.”

She blinked blearily. “I shouldn’t need you.”

“It’s all right if you do.” Delicious warmth spread through his chest at the notion that he could protect her. “At least for tonight.”

As she stared up at him, her butterscotch-brown eyes twinkling in the dark, he brushed his lips across her cheek. She tilted her head so he could have her mouth if he wanted it. His stomach clenched as he found her lips, warm and soft, and pressed against them. She didn’t move at first, just kissed him sweetly. Innocently. As their lips separated, Carter brushed his hands down her hair. Over her forehead and down her temples. Her skin was like porcelain, silky and perfect.

They lay in the dark for what felt like hours, though it could’ve been long, torturous minutes and Carter wouldn’t have known the difference. He was completely and utterly absorbed in the gentle lines of Faith’s face, the smooth swoop of her chin, the petite ridge of her nose, the heart-shaped pout of her lips.

She was so beautiful, so soft.

Angelic
.

Although it didn’t make a lick of sense, Carter felt like he’d never seen her this way before. She looked like the Faith he knew, yet a completely different person at the exact same time.

In the cloak of night, something had definitely changed.

Pangs of want had never hammered through his gut when he gazed into her eyes. Gooseflesh had never scattered over his skin when he touched her cheek. He wanted her. Way more than the rules of friendship allowed.

Faith studied him right back, oblivious to the desire stirring through him. Her fingers grazed over the stubble on his cheek, the arch of his brow, and the tiny cleft in his chin.

Could she be fighting the same urges? Warring with crossing the line, as he was?

As her fingers swept over his lips, she added pressure, smudging them aside. Longing sparked in her eyes, wild and unexpected.

She wanted him back.

The single desirous gaze changed everything.

She stared at him, hungry and desperate, her mouth parting in supple invitation. Stomach clenching into a solid fist, Carter jumped at the offer, stamping a kiss on those sultry lips. His tongue dived deep into the wet recess of her mouth. She moaned and opened wide for him. Clutched at his shoulders. A wave of arousal hit his senses, stirring a hunger in his gut that flared when she groaned into his kiss.

He snapped.

Rising onto his hands, Carter rolled on top of her and pinned her beneath him. She tugged on his shoulders, dragging him down.

His hands went on overdrive, sliding down her shoulders to her waist. He gripped her there, his fingers kneading lush flesh before they skimmed down to her hips. His mouth dived to her neck, where he licked a slow line over her scar. She tried to shrink away, but he gripped her tight, keeping her still. There’d be no shying away from him tonight. She swallowed hard, her head falling back against the pillows, her body going still beneath him. Desperation setting in, he fumbled with the buttons of her top and popped them free with a hard yank.

He stilled, his entire body clenching tight.

Good Lord,
she wasn’t wearing a bra.

He folded the flannel flaps of her top aside, exposing her creamy white breasts. Chills scattered over his back, gathering into a knot at the base of his spine.

Groaning from deep within his belly, he cupped one breast in his hand, relishing its lushness and weight. He raked his thumb over her nipple. Air ripped from his lungs as it tightened into a bud for him. She was a goddess personified, her breasts so soft and round he could’ve buried his head between them, suffocated, and died a happy man.

He bent to suck her nipple into her mouth, but she raked her fingers through his hair and grabbed a fistful, yanking his head back. She brought his mouth down on hers. Her kiss was urgent. White hot. Everything about her was soft, her lips, her breasts, her touch. Combined with the blazing heat of her mouth, Carter was lost in a sea of molten ecstasy.

Her fingers danced along the grooves of his abs, leaving a trail of scorched flesh behind. She gasped as she cupped the bulge in his pants, and pulled her hand back.

“Don’t be shy,” he said, his voice escaping as a growl.

Beginning to tremble with need, he replaced her hand on his cock. The instant she cupped his length, his muscles seized and his shaft jerked. She sighed into his mouth, her body going pliant as she stroked him from the outside of his pants. The pressure was perfect and right, but skin against cotton wasn’t enough. He yearned for skin on skin. Burned for it.

That wasn’t going to cut it.

He nudged her thighs apart and settled between them. Claimed her mouth. Cupped her breast. Skimmed his hands down her stomach, over her sexy little pooch, and stopped at the ridge of her pajama bottoms.

“You’re wet, aren’t you?” he rasped, nearly bursting at the thought of brushing his fingers through her cream. “God, you’re going to be so wet for me.”

She shuddered against him, her tongue sweeping through his mouth, seeking out every delicious curve, every dark bend. She moaned his name against his mouth, and he lost it.

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