Lycan Heat

Chapter Seven

She ran through the dark forest until her lungs felt as if they would burst.

Branches and thorns caught her clothes and scratched her face and arms as she blindly fled through the thick woods. She was scared and confused.

When she realized the man who’d kidnapped her was the man from her dreams the night before, she’d nearly fainted. But how was that possible?

The memories of the way he’d touched her, kissed her, stoked her body to life had rushed back to her brain like a shock of cold water dumped on her.

He was huge and intimidating. His golden brown eyes were intense, predatory...beautiful. When he looked at her, she felt as if he were staking a claim, and his black hair framed a face that could tempt Aphrodite herself.

He was built like a Viking warrior—sleek, strong, hard, mouth watering, and the black T-shirt and jeans he wore hugged his perfectly sculpted body. But her attraction to him was what confused her most She wanted to run her hands along every hard contour of his body, outline every indentation of gorgeous muscle that shrouded him.

She’d never felt such an intense, sexual attraction to a man. And it had to be to a man that kidnapped you? She couldn’t go on much longer. Her legs shook with the exertion of running, and piercing pains shot through her heaving sides. She had to escape, but a sinking feeling in her stomach told her she’d never outrun him, and even if by some small miracle she did, she had no idea where she was. What was worse? Being caught by him again or being lost in the middle of the woods? She knew absolutely nothing about surviving outdoors.

Her paces slowed and she was about to surrender to exhaustion when she ran into a hard, male body. She didn’t have to see him to know exactly whom she’d run into. His clean, woodsy scent assailed her, and she was almost relieved when his arms came around her. He held her securely against his chest as she gasped for breath. She eyed him, a little peeved at the way his breathing came slow and even as she labored against him. He brought a hand up to her nape, tangled his long fingers in her hair, and tugged her head back.

She expected to feel his mouth on her skin, but instead, he lowered his face to her neck and sniffed.

She had every intention of protesting until his lips touched hers. After that, she was lost. What was it about him, a man she should loathe, that made her lose all logic? She’d wanted to feel his mouth on hers just like in her dream, but this time, there would be no waking up.

His kiss wasn’t gentle or coaxing, but more of a soul-searing promise of things to come, a promise of the pleasure he would show her. Her heart thumped even faster when his tongue eased between her lips, and she gasped as he twirled it around her own tongue, tasting and retreating and repeating.

She raised her hands and laid them flat against his deliciously hard chest. She wanted to caress him, hear him growl in pleasure against her as she stoked him higher.

He groaned and nudged her until her back met a tree. His mouth never left her as he covered her with his hard frame and pinned her to the trunk.

The low, rumbling growls coming from him sent heat straight to her belly.

When he wrapped one hand under her thigh and wedged his hips between her legs, his cock strained against her, and all she could think about was him inside her, taking her, making love to her. She arched against him, and he broke the kiss, his face a scant inch from hers. His breathing was now nearly as labored as hers, giving proof that he was as affected by her touch as she was by his.

“Don’t do that again, or I swear, I will take you right here against this damned tree.” His eyes glowed eerily.

“What is wr-wrong with your eyes?” His eyes scared the hell out of her, but his words heated her wanton body even more.

“Nothing.” He closed them for a second, and when he opened them, they were normal again.

“Oh my God.” Then it dawned on her. “It’s all true. What my sister and Raze told me. Werewolves exist and you are one of them.”

The growling, the sniffing, the eerie eyes, Janine had told her the truth.

What if he was a rogue? Terror gripped her hard in its ugly hand and squeezed until she could barely breathe.

“You know about us?”

“Are you a rogue?” Tears streamed down her cheeks now. “Are you going to hurt me because I carry the scent?”

He sucked in a deep breath and swore when she started to sob, then tenderly wiped the tears off her cheeks with his thumb.

“I’m not a rogue. I’m not going to hurt you. If I had any intention of hurting you, I could have—would have—done it by now.”

“Why won’t you let me go then?”

“I can’t.”

“Why?” Was he going to bargain with her? “Please don’t try to trade me for Anthony. I can’t bear knowing I’m responsible for someone else’s death.”

“I meant it when I said I won’t do anything that will hurt you.” He released her and held his hand out. “Come on. Let’s go back to the car.

There’s a motel up the road that we are stopping at for the night.”

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered.

“I have my reasons.” A muscle in his jaw started to tick.

“Janine told me what happened the night Damon came for Raze. If your brother was one of the members of the pack that came with him, he deserved to die. He would have abused and killed my sister without a second thought.”

He clenched his teeth, snagged the front of her shirt, and yanked her to him. She squeaked when he brought his face down to hers.

“You don’t know anything about my brother.”

“No, but I know my sister, and she would not lie about something like that.”

His eyes closed and dark, thick lashes—sinfully thick for a man—fanned against his skin. When his lids opened a moment later, some of the rage that burned in them had subsided. “I don’t want to hear another word about it right now.”

“What is your name?”

“Piers Kavanagh. What is your last name?”

“Denton.” Piers. Just like in her dream. This whole ordeal was getting stranger by the minute. “Can I call my sister when we get to the motel?”

“We’ll see.” When she didn’t take his offered hand, he reached for hers anyway and began tugging her along behind him as he guided them through the dark trees.

“Can we go a bit slower, please?” It was hard for her to keep up with his long gait, and she was already exhausted from her blind run through the woods.

“Sorry.” His shoulders stiffened, and he slowed down a bit.

For some strange reason, she believed him when he said he wouldn’t hurt her, but she still didn’t want to be alone with him. When he touched her, she didn’t want him to stop. She’d have to keep her guard up around him. He wasn’t for her. He was too big, too intimidating...too everything. He might not physically hurt her, but she had a feeling he could hurt her in other ways, ways that could destroy her—ways that included breaking her heart.

She felt a strong connection to him, but lust didn’t equate to love, and he didn’t strike her as the falling in love sort. He was undoubtedly skilled in the bedroom, could probably show her pleasure like she’d never known existed, but in the end, he’d leave her. And in the end, he’d take her heart with him.

She didn’t know how she was so certain that she could easily fall in love with him, but some sixth sense and the way her lips still tingled from his kiss told her it was so.

The whole thing was puzzling. She should be repulsed by him, yet when he touched her, all she could think about was his mouth on her, all over her, her mouth on him…all over him.

He sat on the edge of the bed, every muscle tense as he listened to Sherry talk on the phone. He was impressed with the way she stayed calm for her sister’s sake.

“I’m okay, Janine. Yes. No. He hasn’t hurt me.”

He couldn’t do this. She was going to end up hating him if he forced her to stay with him. He couldn’t just let her walk away, though, yet maybe if he let her, she’d trust him. Maybe if he took her back to Sanctuary, she’d give him a chance. He wanted to tell her she was his mate and explain to her how important she was to him. He needed to assure her that he’d never intended for them to meet like this.

The things she’d said about the confrontation at Sanctuary involving his brother was another problem. Had her sister been telling her the truth about what happened that night? If his brother had threatened Raze, Brent or Anthony’s mates in any way, his death was justified. Hell, even if he hadn’t threatened the women but attacked any of the men, they had also been within their rights to defend themselves.

Why hadn’t he bothered to confront Anthony about the situation? Why hadn’t he dug a little deeper before putting so much faith into the words of a rogue pack?

The answer was simple—misguided, but simple. He hadn’t wanted to believe his brother had gone so astray. If Daniel had done what Sherry said, it would have been too late to save him. Piers would still have tried, but not at the cost of others. He’d wanted a family so badly, his narrow-mindedness had blinded him, and he’d never bothered to consider that his brother had deserved his fate.

The scenario Sherry painted made much more sense. Anthony was an ancient like he was, and Piers wouldn’t kill for no reason. If he was honest with himself, he’d have to admit Anthony probably didn’t either. He’d really fucked up this time, and his mate was stuck in the middle of a mess he’d created. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to be completely sorry that she’d been there because had she not, he might have killed an innocent man.

Unfortunately, none of it relieved the pain of losing the family he’d yearned for for so long.

He made a decision and grabbed the phone from her.

“Hey!” She grabbed for his hand, but he gently swatted her away and put his ear to the phone.

“I’ll bring her back tomorrow.”

“If you’ve hurt her—”

“I haven’t hurt her, nor will I.” Sherry’s sister obviously loved her, and he couldn’t fault her for that. “She’ll be back by sundown tomorrow.” He clicked the phone off before she could respond and tossed it onto the nightstand.

“Did you mean it?” Sherry sat with her mouth open, staring at him.

“I don’t lie.” He was already regretting the decision to return her. He needed her and would never willingly let her disappear from his life, but he cared for her enough to try to do the whole relationship routine. He wanted to do right by her.

She was young and innocent and he…wasn’t. When he claimed her, he wouldn’t do so like a gentle, unschooled boy. His instincts would win out, and he would possess her. He would never hurt her, but he doubted the restraint he’d be able to apply the first time he took her. He needed her to trust him, to know he wouldn’t harm her no matter how out of control he got.

Maybe he should just walk away from her. She was too small, too delicate. He’d never be what she needed. Anger scorched him, and he fought the urge to put his fist through the wall.

“Why are you letting me go?”

“Because I can admit when I’ve made a mistake.”

“So you believe me about what happened with your brother?”

“Let’s just say that now that I’ve gotten two sides of the story, I’m coming to some different, however difficult, conclusions.”

“I can’t imagine what it was like to lose your brother. If something happened to Janine, I’d be devastated, especially after losing our parents.”

“I didn’t even know him.” He shook his head. “I had just hoped—”

“Hoped what?”

“Nothing. Just forget it. In fact, by this time tomorrow, you can forget all of this ever happened.”

“Piers, I—”

He held his hand up to stop her words. He wasn’t ready for this conversation. He’d just realized how wrong he’d probably been about his brother, and he didn’t want to wallow in self pity or cry like a woman. He was a man, and he would suck it up and move on.

“I’m taking a shower.” He wasn’t afraid she’d run again. He had the keys to the Jeep and she had no idea where they were. Besides, if she did, he’d have no trouble tracking her down.

He closed the door after entering the small but clean bathroom. He pulled his clothes off, folded them, and laid them on the counter. Thankfully, the shower was decent and the water was hot. Once he stepped into the steamy stall, he realized he should have made it cold. One thought of their kiss in the forest made his cock rock hard. He could still feel her hesitation as his mouth had taken hers, and then her blissful surrender when she’d melted against him.

He circled his shaft and brought himself to quick, unsatisfying relief. He hoped to God he could make it through the night without taking her. All he could think about was thrusting into her hot, wet flesh, of how she’d close around him as he sank into her. He cursed under his breath and shut off the water. He dried and wrapped the towel around his hips before opening the bathroom door.

She gasped when he walked back into the room, and he grunted. “Sorry.

I didn’t exactly bring anything to sleep in as I wasn’t expecting to stay overnight anywhere.” It wouldn’t have mattered anyway since his usual sleep attire was nothing but his skin.

He was on edge, and his dick was getting hard again as he watched her eyes roam over his body. He turned his back to her, trying to block the insanity of black need threatening to wipe out his willpower.

“Oh my! You have a tattoo.”

“Mm hm.” He nodded as he stared out the window. The wind had picked up and the trees that lined the back of the parking lot were swaying back and forth.

Good Lord. The man was a tank, and his back was a breathtaking spectacle. She hadn’t understood the appeal of tattoos in the past, but the black wolf splayed across his back was exquisite. Its head was ensconced between his shoulder blades, and its body ran the entire length of his back, ending just before it dipped under the towel wrapped around his hips. Its eyes were the same golden brown color as Piers’ and held the same eerie glow his had in the woods. And even though she was aware the tattoo was not alive, it watched her as if it were stalking her and waiting for the precise moment she let her guard down to pounce.

For some reason, maybe because of the way the wolf appeared to move over the play of muscle on Piers’ back, she was drawn to it. Whoever inked him was one talented artist. She didn’t think a wolf in the wild could look any more lifelike. Without thinking, she slid off the bed and moved closer to him.

When her fingers touched his skin, he sucked in a sharp breath and she snatched her hand back, letting it hover a scant inch from the tantalizing beast. When she looked up, the intensity of Piers’ gaze burned back at her from the reflection of the glass in the window. His muscles bunched, but otherwise, he remained perfectly still. Her hand trembled, but she couldn’t help but continue her exploration of the wolf.

“This is one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen,” she whispered in awe as she stroked fur that looked so real she was sure it would tickle her fingers.

Her mouth went dry as she traced along the sculpted muscles that ran the length of Piers’ back. What was it about this man that made her want to touch him? Why did she not find some of the stronger traits he possessed displeasing? In the past they had been big turn-offs in other men she’d met.

The dominance that radiated off him like a second skin, his six and a half foot intimidating frame, the intense, predatory, and unashamed way he watched her, and his obvious ease with nature. For some reason, in this particular man, every one of those things sparked a flame of curiosity inside her that burned brighter with each passing minute she spent with him.

Her brain and body were locked in a silent battle. One warned her to avoid him at all cost and the other longed for him to touch her again. Her fingers traced the edge of the towel that rode low over his tight butt, while her naughty side—a side that rarely showed itself until now—urged her to continue downward. She resisted the journey her fingers begged to take, but couldn’t deny that he truly was remarkable.

The top of her head barely came to the bottom of his thick shoulder blades, but she wasn’t intimidated. In fact, she felt utterly feminine around him and peculiarly safe. He’d said he wouldn’t hurt her, and while, at first, she hadn’t been sure if she could believe him or not, he had promised to return her to her sister tomorrow. Not to mention that she had a hard time denying the truth of the words he spoke in the woods after he’d caught her.

If he was going to harm her, he’d had plenty of opportunities to do so. She realized something else. She wasn’t feeling her usual anxiety from being so far away from Janine. It was as if nothing in the world could possibly harm her or her loved ones while he was near. But why?

His scent was intoxicating and drew her as honey drew bees, and she leaned closer. If she followed the urge and allowed herself to get closer to him, would she end up the innocent lamb led to slaughter? His skin radiated heat, and the longing pulsing through her that begged she kiss his back blocked out all images of lambs, slaughter, and wolves.

“Piers?”

“Sherry, if you don’t stop touching me, I’m going to toss you on that bed and make love to you until we both pass out from exhaustion.” His voice came low and laced with promise.

The mysterious spell he had on her lifted at his words, and she was appalled at what she’d been doing. “I-I’m so sorry.” She started to back away.

“I didn’t mean to—”

He spun around, circled her wrists with his long fingers, and drew her to him. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I just want you to understand that you keep me teetering on the edge of control. I’m trying hard not to scare you, but I won’t lie. I’d like nothing better than to slide into you and ride you until you scream my name.”

“I don’t understand.” Her cheeks heated, and she wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to him, especially now that she was faced with his incredible chest. God, he was ripped like no other. No man had ever been this forward with her. She’d dated mostly sweet, shy men, and Piers was neither sweet nor shy.

“Yes, you do.” He pressed her palms to his chest and held them to him.

“You can feel the pull between us just as I can. There’s no use denying it.

You proved you felt it in the woods when I kissed you. You responded to me in the cave as well. You wanted me even if you aren’t willing to admit it out loud.”

How could he possibly know about the cave? It had been a dream. What the hell was going on here? She backed away from him and when he took a step toward her, she shook her head. He stopped instantly. She needed time to think.

She turned and ran to the bathroom. After locking the door—a door he could probably knock down with little effort—she slid down in front of it until her butt hit the floor. She couldn’t think of any logical reason that he would know about her dream. She stood back up on shaky legs, peeled her clothes off, and started the shower. Maybe the soothing, hot water would help her come up with an explanation—one that wouldn’t freak the shit out of her.

She stood under the hot spray trying to understand his knowledge of the dream, but soon the only thing she was thinking about was that he’d been in the same shower only a few minutes ago. Flashes of his naked, wide back, the wolf, and beads of water dripping down his shoulders, over his chest and sliding over his six pack abs made her hot, achy and confused. He was right.

She did want him.