Wild Instinct (30 page)

The threat took on new meaning.

“What are we doing, Josiah?” she whispered.

Josiah snuggled against her with a weary sigh. “We’re going home.”

Six

“ARE you taking us home?” Rachel asked Cur later that night, after Josiah had fallen asleep in one of the queen beds in the hotel room Cur had rented with cash. It wasn’t much of a room, but it beat the streets and it beat the hard ground and the bed felt like heaven under her. Cur turned away from the window.

“I’m bringing you to Haven.”

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

“I’m not.”

“Why?”

“Because with the exception of Sarah Anne and Teri, there isn’t a damn soul at Haven that doesn’t think you kidnapped that boy.”

“Why would I do that?”

“That’s what we’re going to talk about.”

“You were chasing me.” And the dreams were chasing her. Telling her of the threat that was coming. All she knew to do in the face of that kind of information was to run.

“That will work for a reason at first, but I know you saw Daire and me take out that first set of rogues.”

“Just because you killed the men chasing us didn’t make you good. It just made you a bigger threat.”

She expected him to look shocked, not more relaxed. He let the curtain drop. “I can see that.”

She had his undivided attention. Just what she didn’t want.

“But it doesn’t fit. You knew Haven was coming for you. You knew we were Haven.”

“I knew what you said. That didn’t make it true.” And it hadn’t stilled the voice inside her that had said to run. Of course, it didn’t make any more sense to stop running in a storeroom in the back of an abandoned factory, but that was where her dream had led her. And abandoned her with only a sense of the inevitable to keep her company.

“No, it didn’t.”

He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt.

“What are you doing?”

His response was to pull the shirt over his head. “Getting ready for bed.”

“Don’t you want to take a shower?”

He tossed the shirt on the chair. “Why? You planning on joining me?”

“Not hardly.” Though looking at the way his broad shoulders were set above his well-developed pecs and six-pack abs, the idea wasn’t totally without merit. It was all too easy to imagine water pouring over his skin, tangling in the light growth of hair on his chest, following the point down over his washboard stomach, gathering in the dent of his navel before following that thin strip of hair down until . . . She jerked her gaze away from the sizable erection pressing against the fly of his jeans.

“Change your mind?”

“No.”

His smile would have tempted a saint to commit murder. “Then I guess I’ll settle for the washup I had at the sink.”

Her fingers clenched to fists. “You’re a big boy. You could shower alone.”

“But it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun as showering with my mate.”

“Stop saying that.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “Still hoping it’s not true?”

“Yes.”

His smile didn’t budge. “Tough.”

“Does nothing ever get to you?”

“Peanuts.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “I’m allergic to peanuts. They definitely get to me.”

That had to be a legacy of his human half. “What happens when you eat peanuts?”

“I die for a bit.”

“Good God, Gertie!”

“Not a pleasant experience, but not to worry.” He grinned. “I bounce back.”

His werewolf side. She walked over to the side table where a half-used pad of hotel stationery sat.

“What are you doing?”

She bared her teeth at him. “Making a grocery list.”

She held it up. On it was one item: peanuts.

At his bark of laughter, Josiah mumbled and turned over. “Keep your voice down,” she hissed.

“Watch your respect.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to mention she’d give it when he’d earned it, but truth was, he had. Which just irritated her more. “Oh, go take a shower.”

“We already covered that.”

Yes, they had, and she wasn’t letting her imagination go there again. “Then go to bed.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You’re awfully fond of giving orders.”

“I find it saves time.”

“Interesting.”

“What?”

He smiled that irritating smile. “Just that.”

He reached for his fly. She took a step back and forbid her gaze to drop. “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for bed.”

“You don’t need to get undressed for that!”

“This is the first time in two weeks I’m getting to sleep in a bed. I’m getting comfortable.”

She turned her back to the tempting sight. “What if the rogues find us?”

“They won’t tonight. They’ll be searching the woods and caves west of here, I imagine, since it hasn’t been your pattern to frequent hotels. That should buy us one night of rest.”

Something hit the floor with a slight plop. His jeans? It was all too easy to imagine what he’d look like standing there with nothing but underwear. Broad shoulders, lean hips and heavy muscle sculpted to perfection, made for a woman’s hands.

Her hands. She licked her lips. Did he wear boxers or briefs?

“Well, at least keep your underwear on. Josiah tends to wake up at night.”

He laughed.

“Please tell me you wear underwear.”

“You know as well as I do I can’t lie to my mate.”

He was standing there naked? Clenching her hands into fists, Rachel counted to ten, willing her pulse to slow, her desire to wane, the incredible urge to turn and ogle to die. “Oh, for Pete’s sake.”

“Come to bed, Rachel.”

Come, not go. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin when his hands slid over her shoulders. How had he snuck up on her?

“Yes, you are.”

She didn’t have any choice but to turn when he urged, didn’t have any choice but to rest her body against his, as he pulled her close. Didn’t have any choice but to look up when his finger tilted her chin.

“Tonight and every night from here on out, you sleep in my arms.”

The thought was terrifying. She dreamed at night. “Have you never heard of courting?”

Again that smile. His head lowered. “What makes you think I’m not?”

Her lips parted. So did his. “This is not courting.”

“It’s not?”

“No.” His lips were so close, she could feel their heat.

“Then what is it?”

She wanted to moan, rise up on her toes, anything but stand there balanced on the razor edge of anticipation. “Seduction.”

“Hmm.”

The fingers under her chin weighed on her skin like a pending decision. Why didn’t he just kiss her?

“Then I’m doing something right.”

He was doing too much right. And she had too much to lose.

“Josiah—”

“Is asleep.”

A sense of inevitability weighed her lids down. Her senses picked up the slack left by her lack of vision, adding to the appeal of his scent, his touch, his energy.

“Oh, God.”

“What?”

The syllable whispered across her lips in a prelude to the kiss everything in her needed. Desired. Craved.

She couldn’t wait any longer.

“Damn you!”

Rising up on her toes, she fitted her mouth to his. Lightning arced through her body, followed by a complete sense of bliss as his big hand cupped her rear and pulled her to him.

“About damn time,” he growled.

“Yes.” She’d waited a lifetime for this, and even if it couldn’t last, she needed to know what it felt like to have his mouth on hers, to feel his body against hers. She arched against his cock, catching it between her legs, her moan echoing his as he ground his cock against her clit. So good. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled, needing to be closer, needing more of the fire, the perfection.

Four sharp pricks of slight pain in her buttock alerted to the reality of the moment. He was going to rip off her clothing. A shudder took her from head to toe.
Yes!

She shook her head. “No.”

His mouth bit at hers. “Yes.”

Material began to give. His claws drew across her flesh in hot enticement. She shivered again. His mouth bit at hers again, his canines lightly scraping her lower lip as he sucked on it. She dug her claws into his shoulder and hung on.

“I don’t have anything else to wear.”

His big body went still against her. “Shit.”

Her sentiments exactly.

His hand left her buttock.

She moaned at the loss.

He kissed her hard. “Yeah.”

The hand that had been cupping her buttock slid around her hip. He turned slightly, enabling him to cup her pussy. His thumb dragged backward over her clit, centered through her jeans. Her knees buckled as the sharp point of his claw pierced her clothing.

“Oh!”

“Goddamn,” he groaned into her ear. “I want to make love to you.”

“Josiah,” she gasped.

“I know, but son of a bitch, I will have this.”

This
was the press of his finger against her pussy while his claw raked lightly across her clit in a perfect symphony of pleasure.
This
was the mercurial rise of passion;
this
was the graze of his teeth on her neck, her shoulder, the curve between.
This
was the pleasure of a mate’s touch, a mate’s bite. . . .

Fire poured through her bloodstream. A scream rose in her throat at the exquisite pain. His hand at the back of her head pressed her face into his shoulder muffling the primal scream.

The swipe of his tongue over the wound burned in a hot culmination. Her breasts swelled and ached. Her womb clenched. And her knees buckled.

Cur laughed and swung her up in his arms. “You, my sweet, are going to be very fun to have as a mate.”

Burying her face in his neck, she muttered, “If you’re laughing at me, I’m going to kill you.”

The mattress gave under her weight, shifting left and then right as he came over her. He smoothed the hair off her face with his palms before anchoring his fingers in the thick mass. His smile became softer, more encompassing, as he accepted the threat. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Seven

THERE were a lot of things he should be keeping in mind, including the fact that the woman who was his mate was not to be trusted. Cur watched as Rachel helped Josiah over a log. The boy stumbled. Cur sighed. The boy was tired. So was Rachel. One night of rest couldn’t make up for two weeks of running, but neither was giving up. They had grit. And determination. He’d admire both if the latter wasn’t geared with how best to ditch his ass. He didn’t know how Rachel could on one hand acknowledge he was her mate, and on the other contemplate leaving him, but she did. Maybe her mind always worked that way. It would certainly explain her erratic behavior after fleeing the cave. Josiah smiled up at her. She smiled back and ruffled his hair. Cur just couldn’t believe it. Which meant there had to be another reason. One she wasn’t telling him. He growled under his breath. She should tell him everything.

“Step it up. We’re losing daylight.”

“I don’t understand why we’re not traveling at night,” Rachel pointed out for the third time, pulling her shirt away from her chest.

Cur admired the way it clung to her curves when she dropped it back. “We will be, but”—he pointed to the ridge—“ I want to reach the top by the time it gets dark.”

Rachel followed the point of his fingers. “Up there?”

“Yes.”

“It’d be faster in a car.”

“There isn’t a road,” he countered for the third time.

“A dirt bike, then.”

“Aunt Rachel hates up,” Josiah interrupted.

“Josiah!”

His chin jutted out. “That’s what Momma says.”

Cur grinned. The kid was giving away all her secrets. “A werewolf female with a dislike of exercise? I think I’m getting gypped.”

Rachel glared at him. “Gypped is the least of what you’re getting if you don’t stop grinning.”

“It’s just up she doesn’t like,” Josiah was quick to put in, coming up beside him. “She likes down.”

“Then we’ll have to find her some down.”

Josiah glanced at his aunt’s expression. “That might be best.”

The kid had a point. As much fun as it was to tweak Rachel, her mood was definitely going south.

“She’d probably like ‘up’ more if she slept more.”

“Aunt Rachel never sleeps.”

“Why not?”

“She says it’s because she talks too much.”

Interesting. “What do you think?”

Another look over his shoulder at his aunt before he whispered, “I think she’s afraid of dream bandits.”

“Dream bandits?”

“They make her scream.”

“As her mate I’ll have to help her with that.”

“Good.” Josiah skipped to keep up, looked down and then back up. “Is it true? Does my mom have a new mate?”

Cur shortened his stride. “Yes.”

“Oh.”

It wasn’t hard to tell where the kid’s mind had wandered. “Garrett is looking forward to meeting you.”

“Is that his name?”

“Yes.”

They continued for a few more steps. “He won’t like me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I’m not his.”

“A lot of men love children not their own.”

“Not wolves.”

Cur glanced back at Rachel. Had she been poisoning the boy’s mind so he wouldn’t want to go back home? “Where’d you hear that?”

“Mom.”

Shit.
“Your mom told you that?”

Josiah marched along, chin down, shoulders set. “I hear stuff.”

“Overheard” might be a better term. “Well, I think you ought to wait and see what happens rather than make up your mind ahead of time.”