Wild Wolf Read online

  “Can’t,” Kyle whispered. “Secret.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Misty felt waves of fear from the cubs. “Graham, leave them alone,” she said.

  Graham only rumbled some more. She wished he didn’t look so sexy in the drawstring sweatpants that rode low on his hips, exposing the glory trail that pointed to what he’d hidden. He was dusty and sun-bronzed from his ride wherever he’d been and also from running around looking for the cubs. Tatts hugged arms replete with muscle, biceps hardening as he folded those arms, a stance he liked.

  Misty knew Graham was a complicated man. He had responsibilities pulling him every which way and no time for sentimentality. A girl who fell in love with him would have to understand that.

  Graham had made it clear after they’d gone out a few times that he expected to take a Lupine mate; he’d probably choose one of the Shifters who’d been cringing on the green today. Misty knew she should walk away from this relationship and let him do what he needed to—that she should have a long time ago.

  Misty looked at Graham again and knew she’d have to summon all her strength if she decided to go. A few days ago, she’d been angry enough to tell him to leave her alone. But now, she wasn’t sure she had that kind of strength.

  McNeil needs you, Ben had said. You can save him, but it has to be your choice.

  My life sucks.

  Graham pointed at the cubs. “You two, upstairs, and into the bathtub. You’re filthy. I’ll get you some dinner, then you’re going to bed. Understand?”

  Kyle and Matt both looked up, their fear easing a little. “Are we going to live with you, Uncle Graham?” Kyle asked.

  “Looks that way.”

  “Yay!” The boys jumped to their feet, gave each other high fives, then both dove at Graham and gave Shifter hugs to his pants-clad legs.

  Graham growled again, but gently. Both boys changed to wolf even as they clung to him, and Graham reached down, lifted them with his big hands under their bellies, and carried them out, rumbling at them all the way up the stairs.

  • • •

  Later, after the cubs had bathed, eaten their fill of another pizza, and curled up in bed, asleep with noses buried in tails, Misty returned to the dishes. Two little boys and Dougal, not to mention Graham, could sure make a mess. Dougal had come in when the pizzas arrived, eaten a whole one in about three minutes, and breezed out again.

  On the prowl, Graham had said. Males right after Transition were always on the hunt for mates. Females were choosy and made males work for it, but that didn’t keep males from trying.

  Graham needed to talk more to Dougal, Misty thought as she moved another plate into the drying rack. Dougal had avoided Graham’s gaze and refused to speak about the cubs and his role in losing them. No one had talked about it, in fact. Graham hadn’t let Misty tell him about Ben either. He’d been waiting to speak to her about everything alone, she understood.

  Well, now was his chance. The cubs were asleep, Dougal gone, the night darkening, the house quiet. Shifters were moving around outside, but inside, Graham’s house was calm. And much cleaner now.

  Two scarred hands planted themselves on either side of Misty on the counter. Graham’s strong arms hemmed her in against the sink, and his body, in a T-shirt he’d donned for dinner and the sweatpants, covered her back. The heat of his lips brushed the side of her neck.

  “Goddess, you smell good.”

  Misty lost hold of the last slippery plate, then caught it, lowering it back into the water. “I notice you didn’t drink anything at dinner,” she said, her voice not working right. “And barely ate.”

  “Nope.” Graham skimmed his mouth over her skin, his breath hot. “Not gonna do it.”

  “Graham, you have to drink something.”

  “No, sweetheart.” His lips moved against her neck as he spoke. “If I start, I won’t be able to stop. I’ll drink myself to death.”

  “But if you don’t have any water, you’ll die.”

  “Wolves can go a long time without drinking. I’m finishing this before I give that dickhead Fae the satisfaction of making me desperate.”

  Misty tried to look back at him. “I hate seeing you like this.”

  Graham licked her neck up to the ticklish place behind her ear, which her ponytail bared. “When I drink you, I’m not thirsty,” he rumbled.

  Heat shot to Misty’s intimate places and rested there. “I need to tell you things,” she whispered.

  Graham nuzzled her. “They can wait.”

  “Probably shouldn’t.”

  “I don’t give a damn right now.” Graham turned her face up to him, keeping her body facing the counter, and bit her chin. Then he bit her lower lip and kissed her.

  A hard, commanding kiss, gentleness gone. His hands moved from the countertop to her abdomen, pulling her back against him, his fingers hard on her belly. He kneaded the soft flesh there, moving one hand up between her breasts.

  Misty reached up to touch his neck, twisting in his arms, forgetting her hands were wet. She brushed the Collar, thick and cold, the silver and black chain marking him as enslaved.

  Graham opened her mouth with his, sweeping his tongue inside. His tongue was rough against hers, his mouth hot, strong.

  Misty rubbed his Collar then traced his cheek, her thumb at the corner of his lips. Graham turned his head and sucked her finger into his mouth, licking off the clean water.

  He reached in front of her and turned on the faucet. His sink had a sprayer hose, and he lifted this and squirted Misty up and down her front.

  Misty squealed and tried to spin away. Graham held her firmly and soaked her tank top and her skin beneath. Water trickled between her breasts, and it was cold.

  “You want me to drink?” he asked. “Then I’ll do it like this.”

  Graham lifted the nozzle to his mouth and squirted some water inside. Then, one-handed, he pulled off Misty’s sopping tank top, unhooked her bra and slid it off, held the sprayer nozzle close to her skin, and pressed the trigger again.

  The water wasn’t on full blast, so it poured down her rather than showered. Graham snapped off the water, turned Misty around, and lifted her onto the edge of the counter.

  One strong arm behind her pulled her up to him. Graham lowered his head and licked across her chest, his tongue trailing fire. He raised his head, nose-to-nose with Misty, and a slow smile spread across his face. Misty touched the smile, liking how it creased the corners of his mouth.

  Graham lowered his head again and scooped up the water on her breasts with his tongue. His warm mouth sent fierce tingles through her, pins and needles of heat. Graham licked around the mound of Misty’s right breast and sucked her nipple inside his mouth.

  The heat increased to incandescence. Misty groaned as Graham bit down on her nipple, the small pain erotic. He leaned her backward, dragging his tongue from her breasts to her belly, licking water as he went.

  Misty felt her skirt loosen. She forced herself upright then, the breath she dragged in cut off when Graham kissed her again. As his mouth moved on hers, she hooked her fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants and tugged at the drawstring.

  “Not this time,” she said, breaking the kiss. “You’re not undressing me unless you’re bare too.”

  Graham stared at her. He was going to say no, back away, not go through with it. Misty’s heart squeezed, pain seeping through her excitement.

  Graham took a step back, grabbed the back of his T-shirt and pulled it off, and then shucked his sweatpants in one short movement. He wore nothing underneath. Unlike when he’d been naked outside, in front of everyone, Graham’s cock was hard and lifted straight at her.

  A male like Graham, rampant for her, was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. Misty reached for him, liking the way black hair curled at the base, how the head was flushed with wanting.


  “Don’t tempt me,” Graham said, moving her hand away. “We’re doing this my way.”

  Misty curled her fingers into her palm. “Cassidy told me Shifters could have sexual partners without mating with them. And often do. Mating is different from just having sex.”

  Graham’s growl vibrated the window behind her. He closed the few inches of space between them, his arms slammed to either side of her before Misty could say another word.

  “I’ll never just have sex with you. If I take you, it will be a mate thing, and nothing less. You know that, damn you.”

  “I don’t know anything about you, Graham.” Misty rested her hand on his chest, feeling his heart banging hard beneath his hot skin. “You never tell me.”

  Another growl, this one rumbling long and low. Graham twisted her skirt open, the buttons holding it pinging to the floor. Her panties came next, skimmed off over her legs before he sat her on the counter again.

  “There’s nothing to know,” Graham said. “Nothing I want to talk about.”

  Shutting her out. As usual. His gray eyes held old pain, worry that went back to long before she’d met him. Misty caressed his face, wanting in, wanting him.

  Graham slid his fingers behind her buttocks and tugged her to the front of the counter. At the same time, he dropped to his knees, spread open her thighs, and plunged his mouth over her opening.

  Misty choked back a scream. The cubs were asleep upstairs—Graham had to be insane. At least she’d pulled the blind down on the window behind her. Other blinds were open, though, the light in the kitchen haloing Graham while he licked her.

  Misty’s thoughts fizzled off into nothing. All she knew was sensation—Graham’s strong tongue finding her depths, his hands hard on her thighs, his mouth on her. Drinking, licking, suckling.

  She wound into dizziness. The water in the sink slowly drained, the stopper having worked loose, a little droplet from the almost shut-off faucet spattering on the water’s surface. Misty curled her toes, her legs swinging as heat poured over her. She pressed her fingers into Graham’s short hair, holding on, her head thrown back. The light made spangles on the ceiling, reflections moving softly.

  The water’s ripples became waves of sensations Graham poured into her. Misty heard moans come from her mouth, and she pressed her fist against her lips to stop them.

  Before she knew it, she was bumping against the counter, barely able to stay on, her moans turning to little cries, still muffled by her fist. Graham was merciless. He kept drinking her, tasting, driving her wild.

  She was going to die, and he’d be laughing. Graham went on, suckling, drinking, thrusting into her with his tongue. No sex had ever been this good, and it wouldn’t be again, unless it was with Graham.

  Misty’s first climax finished, and another came hard on its heels. She heard herself begging him, and felt his laughter against her thighs. After the fourth time, Graham finally rose to his feet, gathering Misty to him while she shuddered and clung to him.

  “Damn you,” she whispered.

  Graham’s chuckle rumbled wonderfully beneath her ear. “I was thirsty.”

  Misty raised her head. Graham smiled down at her, his eyes dark, something in him relaxed and loosened.

  Still, he looked way too smug. The smile said Graham knew he’d taken her to new heights, and he could do it again if he wanted.

  Misty reached up and closed her teeth around his earlobe. Graham’s hold loosened while he took a sharp breath, and Misty slid off the counter. She kept going, all the way down to her knees.

  “No.” Graham’s hand fell heavily on her shoulder, but too late. Misty grasped the base of his long cock and quickly closed her mouth around it.

  • • •

  No. No, no, no.

  Graham had to stop her. Tell her to get up, dress herself, and get her ass out of his house.

  He balled his fists as Misty’s mouth moved, lips stretched to take him all in. He groaned. “Holy Mother Goddess.”

  Misty pulled him closer. The Goddess wasn’t going to answer Graham’s prayer, but maybe she had answered it. Misty kept on with him, moving her tongue across the underside of his cock, licking him, nibbling a little.

  Graham’s burning thirst, now that he wasn’t drinking Misty, had come roaring back, but for the moment, he didn’t care. His lower body was spreading its pleasure to the rest of him, rendering his dry throat a minor issue.

  Graham’s hips began moving, slowly at first, then faster as Misty continued. She pulled him into her, tighter, encouraging him.

  Damn the woman. She was torturing him. Punishing him for making her come four times and liking it.

  Graham clenched his fists harder, feeling his nails crease his palms. The small pain was lost in the swamping need that poured through him, making every good intention evaporate like water from the desert floor.

  He wanted to mate with this woman, take her in every position he knew and some he’d never tried. He wanted to curl up with Misty in the night, letting down every guard he’d ever put up, then wake up and take her again.

  I want to mate with you under the light of the Mother Goddess and the Father God. I want you with me until we find the Summerland, and then float into brightness with you after that.

  I want you sun and moon, body and soul. Joined. Forever.

  Graham wanted her sweetness, her smile, her softness. And he wanted sex. Pure, wild, raw sex.

  He touched Misty’s sleek hair, stopping himself from bunching it in his fist. He was too strong; he could hurt her. He stroked the satiny length of it, breaking the binding that held it in the ponytail. Long, flowing, warm. Graham would make her wear it down all the time.

  Misty’s tongue rubbed him, and her mouth pulled, teeth scraping a little. She pressed her fingers into the firm flesh of his buttocks, and then he felt one finger slide between his cheeks.

  The feeling was explosive. Graham threw his head back, words coming out of his mouth, but he had no idea what they were. He thought he said love in there, as well as plenty of swear words.

  “Damn,” he said, and then he came.

  Graham stopped himself pressing Misty to him, urging her to take him. But she didn’t let go. She drank him down as Graham spilled his seed, knowing he had to have this woman forever.

  He rocked against her for a long time, the house around them silent except for the soft sounds of their pleasure. The intense joy that gripped him eased down into a warmth that was no less joyful.

  Misty drew back, releasing him, and picked up a fallen towel to wipe her mouth. Graham found himself on the floor with her, gathering her to his lap, closing his arms all the way around her. He rocked her there, kissing her hair, drowning himself in her warmth and scent.

  Misty brushed fingertips over his rough, unshaven cheek, her smile quiet. “There,” she said. “I knew I could wipe the grin off your face.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Misty had asked, “Do you want me to go?”

  Offering, knowing Graham had been trying to push her away, out of his problems. Except Misty kept landing right in his problems again.

  “Stay,” Graham had said into her hair, and he’d carried her upstairs.

  Graham’s bedroom was the neatest in the house. Dougal’s room was a disaster area, Graham always surprised his nephew could find his own bed. Many times Dougal didn’t, sleeping on the floor as wolf. The twins were snuggled down together in a spare bedroom, which Graham supposed was theirs now.

  Graham lay Misty in his own bed and covered her nakedness with blankets. She gave him a sleepy smile, one a little bit smug. She’d gotten Graham to let down his guard.

  Wasn’t that hard, sweetheart.

  Graham debated whether to join her. He’d want to touch her again if he did, wrap up in her, have sex with her. Mate with her.

  Then he’d have to keep himself awake
somehow, or he’d slide back into the dreams with the Fae. He had the feeling that the more encounters he had with Oison in his dreams, the more hold the Fae would have over him.

  Graham adjusted the light blanket over Misty, the ceiling fan and blow of air-conditioning making the room cool. Out the window, he saw the sweep of Shiftertown, the darkness that was desert and mountains beyond, the moon, even fuller than last night, and six Shifters waiting for his attention at the edge of his front yard.

  They were all Lupines, five male and one female—three clan leaders and three seconds. One of the leaders was from a clan from Graham’s Elko Shiftertown; the other two had been living here under Eric.

  Graham growled in his throat, left Misty, who’d drifted off to sleep, grabbed a fresh pair of sweatpants and T-shirt, and went downstairs and outside.

  The Lupines hadn’t moved into the yard—this was Graham’s territory, and they wouldn’t approach without invitation. They’d stand at the edge of the sidewalk instead, willing him out by sheer force of glare.

  The leader of the Elko clan took one step forward. He’d probably lost the coin toss as to who got to address Graham and risk being attacked without mercy.

  Graham stopped in the middle of his yard, remaining firmly on his territory and not inviting them in. “What the hell is this?”

  “Are you going to mate with the human?” the Elko clan leader, Norval, said. He inhaled, the hot Nevada wind easily carrying to him Graham’s scent and everything he’d done with Misty. “We saw you.”

  Graham folded his arms. “Can’t a Shifter get sucked off in his own kitchen without his neighbors having a meeting about it? It’s my business who I mate with.”

  “A Lupine, you said,” Norval went on. He’d gone white about the mouth, and Graham smelled his fear, but Norval was angry enough to stand and not run away. “You got us down here with the promise that you’d take a Lupine mate from my clan or the Las Vegas ones. I can barely hold my clan together, McNeil. They’re ready to shove you out of power unless you start your dynasty.”