TheTroublewithWolves Read online

  He slid his hand along her jaw. His breath hitched when her eyes closed and she leaned into his caress.

  “Do you think it was easy to walk away? To know another would claim you? To discover it was my brother?” Old anger rose within him as he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, stroking his thumb over the soft skin of her throat. “Can you conceive of what it was like to spend two fucking years jacking off to the image of my brother’s mate?”

  Her eyes snapped open. “Don’t bring Taylor into this.”

  “You’re right,” he growled. “Taylor’s been gone for a year. This is about us.”

  His mouth slammed down on hers. He groaned at the contact. Her lips were as soft as he’d dreamed they’d be, softer even. He pushed his tongue deeply between her lips, tasting the inner recesses of her mouth. She was sweeter than honey. His hand gripped her neck, his mouth releasing hers to drag in a deep breath.

  Her pink, swollen mouth called to him; her eyes were wide and he wasn’t sure if it was from fear or need. He slowed the pace, nipping at her lower lip, licking after each bite. Dammit, he’d waited two years for this moment and if he didn’t get himself under control, it would be over before it started.

  He pulled back and looked at her, felt himself fall into the depths of her passion-filled eyes. Had he always been such a fucking sap, or had the fact he’d not had sex in two years finally gone to his head? Was pure lust making him feel things that would vanish like a ghost three months, or even three weeks down the road? It was a question he’d asked himself often over the two long years of his exile, and the answer was the same every time.

  What he felt for her wasn’t a fly-by-night thing. It wasn’t temporary. It wouldn’t end once he was balls-deep in her. In fact, Nigel was very much afraid the feeling would only grow and intensify with every new touch.

  Chapter Five

  Home.

  The word popped into Claire’s mind the moment Nigel’s lips took hers. A mouth had never fit hers so perfectly. His taste was intoxicating, leaving her feeling weak and in need of more. She placed her hands against his hard chest, her nails curling, scraping his flesh.

  When he pulled away, dragging in a long, ragged breath, she leaned forward, licking a path from his neck to his shoulder, rubbing her lips back and forth against powerful muscles. He still smelled like pine and musk and all the things that made her breasts ache and her pussy throb.

  “Yes, touch me, luv.” His voice was barely above a whisper when her fingertips passed over his flat, nipples. When she lightly dragged her nails over the nubby points, his hiss told her all she needed to know. Leaning down slightly, she ran the tip of her tongue along the hard center, circling before capturing it between her teeth. She nipped and licked, alternately sucking it into her mouth and blowing cool air against it.

  “Enough,” he growled, grabbing the back of her head and pulling her hair, gently forcing her head up. Claire watched as his head descended slowly, his eyes never leaving hers as their lips touched. Slower this time, softer. She couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped; his touch was magic.

  He fumbled with the belt of her robe, pushing the silky fabric from her shoulders to pool at her feet. She didn’t even think to protest. She was entranced by his slow seduction of her mouth. He had yet to touch her below the neck and the lust and anticipation were killing her second by second.

  Unable to stand his gentle ministrations for one second longer, she grabbed his hips and pulled him to her. The rigid outline of his cock through his jeans dug into her hip and they both gasped. Her hands skimmed up his rib cage and she opened her mouth, sliding her tongue along his, savoring his heat. One minute she was in control, running her hands over smooth skin, her tongue dancing along his. Then next, his fingers dug into her hips and he hoisted her onto the counter, moving lightning fast between her thighs.

  “Fuck. You drive me mad, woman,” he whispered against her mouth. “I can’t wait another minute. Not another fucking second.”

  He was a thorough lover, the kind who took his time ensuring the pleasure of his partner. Not this time. Two bloody years he’d been in hell, waiting, dreaming of loving her. With unsteady fingers, he opened the fly on his jeans, hastily shoving them to his feet. With one hand on each of her knees, he spread her wide for his view.

  She was ripe and juicy and so ready for him. He gave a gentle push to the middle of her chest and Claire leaned back, exposing more of her delicious pussy to his gaze. He was going to taste her, thoroughly—but later. Now he needed to finally, finally be inside her.

  He moved his cock head to her heated entrance, rubbing the crown along her slit, tapping her tight little clit. His pre-cum coated the head, mixing with her arousal.

  “Watch, luv,” he demanded. “Watch me take you like we’ve both dreamed of.” He gritted his teeth when he slid in the first inch. The pleasure was indescribable, silken heat, and she was so fucking tight. Sweat broke out all over his body as he reined himself in. He was going to savor this first penetration. Lovely, lovely Claire. His Claire. Because after this, she would belong to no other male. Whether she admitted it or not, Nigel was mating with her, vowing—even if in silence—that she would be his forever.

  He pushed slowly, enjoying the friction of her tight walls against his hard dick as he forged in, inch by excruciating inch. He stopped only when he was fully seated within her. He grabbed her thighs, pulling them up, and she automatically wrapped them around his waist, cradling him inside her.

  He pulled back and thrust, the pleasure so exquisite his legs shook. He kept his thrusts shallow and measured, intent on dragging out the pleasure of this first time. As their rhythm increased, her sweet sighs turned into mews and cries, each one vibrating down his spine.

  He let his head hang down, resting his forehead against hers. Their breaths came quicker, mingled as he picked up the pace. His fingers digging hard into her hips, he tilted her slightly up as he made circles with his hips, searching for her greatest pleasures, learning how she liked him to move.

  She lunged forward, straightening up and wrapping her arms and legs around his back as he rode her. One of his hands pressed against her fantastic ass, dragging her tighter to him, as her legs anchored him in the cradle of her hips.

  She was close, so close. He could feel it in the tension of her limbs, hear it in the ragged cries that he drank down like wine. Her body arched, and his name poured from her lips as her inner muscles clenched almost painfully on his dick.

  It was too much. He grunted, groaned and felt himself free-fall into orgasm. His mouth found her shoulder, tongue licking over the satiny skin, before his teeth locked down, biting hard as his balls tightened and he shot his seed deep in her convulsing passage. His orgasm set her off again and her pussy contracted harder, wringing every single drop of cum he had out of him.

  His head fell forward, resting in the hollow where her shoulder met her neck. They panted together, breaths mingling as they searched for much-needed oxygen. He closed his eyes, drinking her in, her scent, the taste of her on his tongue, the silk of her skin beneath his fingers. He felt alive. For the first time since he’d walked away from her outside her café on that fateful night, he was alive with emotions that had him terrified, exhilarated and anxious all at once.

  He’d walked away from happiness two years ago, sacrificed his needs for pack law and for family. He couldn’t do it again. His nobility and self-sacrifice stopped here and now. He just had to convince her.

  Claire held back a whimper when Nigel finally slid his cock free of her still-pulsing sheath. Even softened it was formidable, dragging over supersensitive tissues and rasping over rioting nerve endings.

  She felt his eyes on her, but she couldn’t look at him. She was too close to tears. Instead she ducked her head and hopped off the counter, heading silently for the bathroom. She started to shut the door, but Nigel was there.

  His eyes glowed that strange amber color that was so hypnotizing, and she held up her han
d, begging him not to come any farther.

  “Please.” It was all she could manage to say. Her throat was raw, her body singing, her emotions teetering on the edge of collapse.

  He must have understood, because he made no further move to enter the bathroom. She closed the door and locked it. She was moving almost on autopilot when she started the shower, adjusting the water as hot as her sensitized skin could take. Stepping beneath the spray, she finally allowed herself to sag and let the tears fall.

  Two years of dreaming, of wondering what it would feel like to have Nigel Rhodes make love to her. Never in her fantasies had she imagined it would be on a countertop in the early morning hours. The place didn’t really matter, though. The combination of her and him would have been just as explosive in the cab of his truck or on satin sheets by candlelight. Chemistry didn’t depend on location. So it wasn’t the intensity of the sex that had her sobbing in the shower, but the emotions bubbling to the surface that caught her completely by surprise.

  Everything about what she and Nigel just shared was pure magic. There were no adequate words to describe it. Her joy was tempered, though, by the memories of Taylor. It broke her heart to know he’d never been able to experience such a joining, that his position within the pack had made it impossible to be with the one he truly loved.

  Claire cried for her dead mate, not because she felt she’d betrayed his memory, or because she wished she was still with him, but because his own happiness had been denied. She cried for the dreams Taylor never dared speak to anyone but her, knowing dreams were all he’d ever have. As firstborn, his destiny had been written in stone. He was to be alpha, and the alpha belonged to the pack.

  Each time he quoted pack law, she cringed. Pack law had crippled a good man and denied him true happiness. It had also thrown her and Nigel together to fall in love, or at least in lust, and then decreed they must live apart. She resented pack law now more than ever before. When Taylor died, Claire wasn’t bound by the rules of the pack any longer, and for the first time in her life, she was living truly free.

  She loved the man, but she wouldn’t fall back under pack law for him. She wouldn’t deny her identity to become nothing but his mate. She wouldn’t give up her café because the pack said she shouldn’t work outside the home. She wouldn’t become a good little bitch in heat to satisfy pack law, even for the one wolf who owned her heart.

  Nigel paced the living room restlessly, muttering a steady stream of profanity. He could hear her crying, could all but feel her anguish, but he was helpless to do one bloody-damn thing about it. It was eating him up inside that she was in pain and wouldn’t let him comfort her. Was she crying for her dead mate? Christ, was she feeling guilty over what they’d just shared? In his arrogance, he’d never even considered that she might still long for Taylor.

  His stomach knotted at the thought of Claire pining away for his dead brother, quickly followed by guilt. He was a selfish bastard. Walking back into her life after so long and fucking her the first moment he got her alone, and then being bloody jealous of his brother.

  If he were any kind of hero, he would walk out the door right now. Nigel knew he was as likely to do that as he was to stop breathing. For once the law was on his side, and he had no intention of letting the opportunity go. As Taylor’s brother, the law obligated him to take care of her. And he intended to care for all her needs. She might still love his brother, but her body burned for him, and he wasn’t above using that to win her love.

  Taylor had known Nigel’s feelings for her. His big brother had even confronted him about them the night he’d packed up to leave.

  “You’re running away, then? I can smell her all over you.” Taylor’s observations were unwelcome and, Nigel thought, completely pointless.

  “I don’t have a fucking choice, Taylor. She’s in the Run. I can’t have her.”

  “You’re a fucking coward.” Taylor’s normal laid-back persona disappeared, showing a hint of the forceful personality that made him alpha. “You’ve wanted her for months and now that you’ve had a taste of her, you’re leaving.” Taylor shook his head and looked pityingly at Nigel. “Fight for her. Go to Dad and tell him she is yours.”

  “I can’t do that to Dad. If I asked him to ignore the law it would cast a shadow on the entire family. As the next alpha, you should know this better than anyone.”

  “Fuck the law. The law won’t share your dreams and love you. If you don’t claim her now, you’ll be sorrier than you can imagine.”

  Nigel stopped packing long enough to really study his brother. A profound sadness seemed to radiate from Taylor. Something indefinable, but so real Nigel could feel it filling the room.

  “Where’s this coming from?” He’d never heard his brother speak so passionately about anything, certainly not about breaking the law.

  “I just don’t want you to live a life denied the other half of your heart. You deserve better than that.” Taylor’s eyes held some other, deeper message, but it was one Nigel hadn’t the will to figure out.

  “Just make sure she is mated well, Taylor. She deserves a strong mate, but one who will value her as she is.”

  “The only way to do that, baby brother, is to mate her myself.”

  He felt sick at the idea of Claire in his brother’s bed, carrying his brother’s child.

  “Well, that’s the first honest reaction I’ve gotten from you,” Taylor murmured drily as Nigel visibly flinched at the mental images.

  He turned his back on his brother, closing his duffel bag and slinging it across his back. “If it’s you, then you better do right by her, Taylor. So help me God, you better take care of her.”

  Taylor stood in the doorway, blocking his exit. He reached out and grabbed Nigel’s shoulder.

  “Don’t do this. Don’t fucking throw away your chance at happiness. Dammit, not everyone gets to have what you’re walking away from. The pack will survive. You might not. You love her, Nigel. I can smell it all over you. You fucking love her.”

  He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He’d survive because he had to. That’s why he needed to be far, far from here by the Solstice. He shoved Taylor hard enough to send him crashing into the wall at the end of the hallway, then stalked up to his brother, grabbing his shirtfront.

  “You don’t know what I feel, Taylor. You can’t. You just make sure that whoever she’s mated to, you take care of her.” He let go of his brother and took off out the door before Taylor could stop him.

  That was the last time he’d seen his brother alive.

  * * * * *

  Claire left for the coffeehouse as soon as Nigel stepped into her shower, unable to face the inevitable conversation. She wasn’t surprised when he showed up an hour later, Time and Newsweek in hand, settling in at the table she still thought of as his.

  She didn’t bother trying to kick him out, but she didn’t pay him any attention, either. At least, not obviously. Instead, she spent the day reliving their morning escapade. The memory of his amber eyes, his tightly muscled chest and his thick thighs played havoc with her concentration all day long.

  Her cry in the shower had been therapeutic. It allowed her to grieve fully for herself and for Taylor, something she hadn’t done even during her mourning period. She’d never cried for what Taylor had been denied, and she felt she owed it to him as his friend.

  She was going to tell him the truth about his brother. Taylor would have wanted that. He’d always regretted their last conversation, their fight over her. She would honor Taylor’s memory and try to relieve any guilt he felt over his last words to his brother.

  She was on her way over to him with one of his favorite apple muffins when the door opened. James and Colby, two pack enforcers, entered and made a beeline to Nigel. James bent down to speak softly and urgently in his ear. He swore and stood, stalking over to Claire.

  “I’ve been summoned, luv, but I’ll be by the house tonight.” He bent over and planted a scorching kiss on her lips, leaving no o
ne in the café to wonder why he’d been there in the first place. He might as well have peed in a circle around her, she thought with more humor than irritation. Even as he left, her lips tingled, her body ached and she knew she was in big trouble.

  She spent the rest of the afternoon and the evening rush in a daze, her mind flipping over the possibilities of what could become of her and Nigel. She wanted him, wanted him even more now than she had two years before. Her body ached with the need to be close to him. Her heart ached with the need to open to his.

  She had panicked after their lovemaking that morning. Now, with time and space to think, she knew that a relationship with him would be completely different from her life with Taylor. He wasn’t going to be alpha, so she wouldn’t have to assume the role of the alpha’s mate. She wouldn’t have to subjugate herself to an archaic way of thinking. She could be with the man she loved without losing herself because she wouldn’t be a part of the ruling couple.

  Chapter Six

  “No way in hell, Dad.” Nigel stood before his father, his hands planted on his hips. “I didn’t come home for a new job title. I came home for Claire.”

  Thomas smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter why you’re here, son. What matters is that you are. When Taylor died you became my successor.”

  “I’m not alpha. I don’t have the stomach for it. Let Chris or James take the job. I don’t want it.” He paced the floor, as was his habit when he was agitated. “I hate all the damn politics, the infighting. Thanks for the offer, Dad, but I’ll pass.”

  Thomas sat back, his mouth curved in a serene smile that drove him crazy. His father always looked like he had a secret just waiting to come out.