Clawed: Wild Things, Book 3 (5 page)

Chloe rose from her hiding place and walked toward him. She watched him as he studied her, curious to see what she’d do, and she gave in to his curiosity. Sending him a smile that spoke of secrets she might share, she disrobed, taking her time with each piece of clothing. His eyes grew darker as she let the clothes slip from her fingers to fall to the forest floor.

He met her on the shore of the babbling stream, his body showing his arousal, hers sending out the aroma of seduction. Not yet touching, they regarded each other, tentatively, playfully as though each deciding to delay the moment of contact.

Chloe slid her fingers into her jeans, found the wetness between her legs and massaged the throbbing nub of flesh. Her lips parted and her gaze fixated on the top of her tent, unseeing, instead materializing the man from the stream to hover above her.

“Please,” she whispered.

He ran his gaze down the length of her, sending an unmistakable message of desire. He reached out and laid his palm over her breast, and her nipple peaked to attention. He took her other breast, then met her gaze and let the warmth flow between them. He stroked her, more than with his physical touch, but with his look, his need.

Wanting to be sure he understood, she whispered, “I want you, too.” Words couldn’t convey how much she needed him, ached for him.

He tilted his head in question, but his face remained a picture of lust that soon gave way to a knowing smile. Slipping his hands over her shoulders, he tunneled his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck.

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

His voice resonated into her, driving his power into her very essence. Here was the man she’d waited for, dreamed of, longed for. Although they were strangers, she knew him as well as she knew her own heart. She had no choice but to answer truthfully. “Do anything you want.”

Chloe rubbed harder, friction driving her to the edge of an orgasm. Closing her eyes, she continued the fantasy.

Taking her at her word, he enveloped her, lifting her from the ground. As easily as he carried her body, he carried the very soul of her desire. She melted against him, wrapping her legs around his waist, her body turning to smoldering embers against his flame.

He pressed his mouth against hers and cupped her ass, holding her a willing prisoner against his brick wall of a body. She mewed, grateful for his touch, and matched his passion with her own. He swirled his tongue in her mouth, drinking her in as she prayed he would drink in another part of her. She wrapped her arms as far as they could go around his wide back, digging her nails into him, marking him, claiming him the only way she knew how.

Making a sound that was more animal than human, he carried her into the stream. Water splashed on her feet, then on her legs until at last they stood waist deep in the chilly torrent. With a growl, he broke their kiss and silently searched her once more. His eyes, speaking more than words ever could, challenged her to take the temptation he offered. She accepted the challenge and he pulled her with him to sink under the water.

Chapter Three

Chloe cried out as the orgasm raked through her, her body jerking in wave after wave of release. She trembled, perspiration wetting her hairline even as her breathing slowly returned to normal. Eyes wide, she yanked her hand away from her crotch and searched the small enclosure for her fantasy lover. But her tent was as empty as when she’d entered it. If imagining him made her feel this way, what would having sex with the real man do to her?

“Chloe, are you okay?”

She sat up, color flaming her cheeks, and thanked her lucky stars that she’d brought two tents. “Yeah, I’m fine. I, uh, I guess I had a bad dream.”

“Sounded like a good dream, if you ask me.”

“Shh, Billy.”

Nina’s chuckle didn’t help Chloe’s embarrassment. She covered her face with her hands and wondered how desperate she must sound to her friend and her…what? Her one-night stand? Her new lover? With Nina, who knew?

“You are so bad, Billy.”

“But good, too, right?”

More laughter followed and the light came on again in the other tent. Chloe glanced at the shadows playing on the nylon, then abruptly turned her head. No wonder she’d gone overboard. How could she not after watching them? She needed to go to sleep and ignore the sexual playtime in the next tent.

Sleep, however, eluded her until she finally gave up and decided to draw. Careful to be as quiet as possible, she gathered her pencil and sketchpad and sat on the log by the glowing campfire embers. The lantern gave her just enough light to see, and she once again began to sketch the sexy man of the stream.

She let out a breath, grateful to have the tension flow out of her, and let her art become, as it always had, her refuge, her passion and her way to relax all rolled into one. Losing herself in the world on the paper, she attempted to capture the beauty of nature without the cruel reality often lying just under the surface. She soon forgot everything and everyone else as her picture took shape.

Perhaps it was because she drew by the light of the lantern and the flickering glow of the embers that her work took on a life of its own, becoming more than a drawing. She could almost feel the warmth emanating from the paper, could almost touch the texture of skin, hair and fur. The picture had a heartbeat of its own, bringing her inside it, taking her to where the figure was, away from the campsite to a place she hadn’t known existed. And unlike the drawing that had been torn from her sketchpad, this time she drew an image of two figures, one man and the other animal, their bodies intertwined into one.

She had no idea how long she drew and it didn’t matter. The changing light had no effect on her. In fact, she found the early morning rays filtering through an overcast sky a welcome addition to her work as though the new day added another dimension to her subject. Sighing, she ignored the first pangs of hunger and continued to draw. She concentrated on the figure, not caring about a background. The sketch was not only about the man-beast, but somehow, for the man-beast.

Vaguely she responded to Nina and Billy when they finally emerged, hand in hand, from the tent. Appreciative words—praise for her art—flowed over her, but she didn’t bother to acknowledge them. Although hungry, she refused the food and drink they offered.

“Chloe?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a break?”

“No.”

“Is she okay?”

She heard Nina murmur an answer to Billy but didn’t care to join in the conversation. What she was doing, the picture she was creating, was more important.

“I’ve seen her immersed in her work before but never like this.”

“Her drawing is amazing, but I’m afraid he won’t think so.”

Chloe was aware of the abrupt change between them, strain suddenly erupting, but concentrated on making the man’s hair exactly the way she remembered it. She tried to block out their conversation, but it filtered in anyway, words with no meaning filling her head.

“What do you mean? Who is he? Do you know who she’s drawing? Is he for real?”

“Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

A terse discussion followed that made Chloe tense and she hurried on as though the winner of the argument might somehow try to influence her work. Once she’d applied the final touch, she stopped and examined the picture, and found herself hoping that she’d find another way to make it better just so she could continue working on it. Unlike her previous work, however, she judged it perfect. Complete. Wonderful. The best sketch she’d ever done. She rubbed her tired eyes and blinked, surprised to find Nina and Billy watching her.

“Hi, Nina. Billy.”

Nina’s relieved face brightened with a smile. “Hey, welcome back to our world. Are you hungry yet?”

Her stomach growled, answering on cue. “You bet. What do we have on the menu?”

Nina pulled open two packages of foil-wrapped food and held them out for her inspection. “Bacon and eggs. I can see if I can warm them up again. And we still have a few English muffins left.”

“Only two pieces of bacon out of an entire pound? I guess I’m not the only starving camper.” She grinned at Billy, letting him know she was joking.

“Sorry, but after last night I needed to refuel.” He bumped his shoulder against Nina. “You, girl, are an animal.”

Chloe’s gaze dropped to her drawing. An animal. Yes, she’d drawn a half man, half animal, but was he simply a product of her imagination?

Conan surveyed the cozy scene. After finding Billy gone from the cave in the middle of the night, he’d assumed his friend had gone for a moonlight run. Once the sun had come up, however, and Billy hadn’t returned, he’d realized the were-coyote’s adventurous nature had taken him to a specific destination—a destination Billy had wisely kept to himself. Judging from the way the were-coyote and the smaller woman acted, he’d come to that realization too late. The wily shifter had already made an intimate connection with the human female.

Conan had to give him his due. Billy had a way with women. His quick and easy wit managed to put them off their guard while his inherent animal magnetism lured them in. Conan had often envied the were-coyote his friendly nature, wishing he could relax and be as outgoing. He growled low and soft, saw Billy sit up and glance his way, then quickly return to his conversation. Billy wouldn’t acknowledge his presence until Conan wanted him to.

He stalled, keeping his gaze on Billy and his woman. If he let his sight fall to the other female, he’d be lost. But it was inevitable. He had to look.

She was more beautiful than he remembered. Her hair flowed softly around her shoulders to carry his focus down her back to the shapely curve of her butt. Unlike other human females he’d known, she didn’t wear any of the nasty-smelling makeup they couldn’t live without. Instead, her beauty was as pure as the nature surrounding her. The pink of her cheeks accented the soft red of her full lips while big brown eyes, reminding him of a young fawn’s, spoke of intelligence and spunk. Her neck was long and sleek, and her breasts were the size he craved to fill the palms of his hands.

He gritted his teeth, warning himself not to let her charms overwhelm him. Sure, her legs were as long as a gazelle’s and his imagination led him to think of them wrapped around his waist, but he had to keep his head. Nonetheless, he could almost feel her tighten them, using the leverage to match her thrust to his as they edged toward orgasms. His mouth dried as he imagined her flat stomach pressing against his and the way she’d bring her sweet nipple to his mouth to beg him to suck on it. Her lips would part in rapture, her big eyes holding him hostage, and he would dive into them and never return.

Conan shook, ridding his mind of the torturous ideas. He’d come to these mountains not only to explore, but to get away from humans and the demands of his kind. Not to bed a human female.

He’d finally decided to turn away, leaving Billy to have fun with the women, when his gaze fell on the drawing. He sucked air through gritted teeth, stunned at how precisely she’d captured both sides of him, how well she’d illustrated the transformation. Looking at the incredible drawing, he knew with absolute certainty that people would believe his kind existed. Anger, swift and sure, ripped through him.

“You have no right.” The two women jumped as he broke through the bushes and into the campsite. “I repeat. You have no right.”

Billy stepped in front of him, blocking his way. “Take it easy. We’re all friends here.”

The gorgeous woman and her friend gaped at him, each with an incredulous expression. Billy’s woman was wary. He could see it in her face, in her wide eyes, in the way she reached for the other woman. But the beautiful artist fought the alarm he saw on her face, struggled with it and won. Her features hardened with a determination he admired. Placing the offending sketchbook on the log, she took two steps toward him, then fisted her hands on her hips. The beautiful brown eyes flashed with fire, proving he’d guessed correctly. She did have spunk.

“We have no right to do what? To camp here? To eat breakfast?” Her eyes blazed with fury that was both intriguing and sexy as hell. “And who are you to tell us what we can or can’t do?”

Billy jumped in, again trying to defuse an already antagonistic situation. “Hey, you two, let’s take it down a notch, okay? Ladies, this is my friend, Conan Cahill. Conan, this is Nina Winters and Chloe Long, two very special women.”

Her name is Chloe.
He longed to try it in his mouth, to see if it felt as good to say it as it was to hear it. “You have no right.”

Chloe’s brows dipped between her eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?” She shook herself as though shaking off a bad dream “You know what? Never mind. Billy, I don’t mean to sound harsh, but maybe you and your friend need to leave.”

“No!” Nina clasped on to Billy. “I don’t want him to go.”

Conan walked over, putting his body within inches of Chloe’s. Heat rushed through him, lust pounded in his ears and he felt his shaft go to full alert, his erection pushing against the confines of his jeans. He’d never experienced as great a visceral need as he did with this female, but that didn’t matter. He had to destroy the drawing.

“I have no problem leaving. But when I do, I’m taking the picture with me.”

Chloe glanced at the pad as though checking to see if he’d already taken it. Lifting her gaze to his again, she ground out her words, her tone leaving no ambiguity behind her meaning. “Like hell you will.”

“Yeah, I will.” Conan took another step forward, putting him in what humans called their “personal space” to challenge her. To her credit, she didn’t budge, didn’t even blink. The corners of his mouth lifted. Spunky didn’t come close to what she was. His shaft twitched again.

“Hey, man, let’s not go there. Keep things under control, okay? Both of you need to calm down.”

Her rich brown eyes flicked to Billy, then back to him. “I can’t stay calm with him threatening to take my work.”