Fierce Wanderer (6 page)

He laughed. “Lesson One: Balance.”

Chapter Fifteen

They practiced self-defense moves and hiked until Hera was sure her feet were bloody nubs encased in cheap tennis shoes. Then Blake picked her up over-the-threshold style, and they hiked some more. His chest was hard as stone beneath her head, but he smelled good, and that made up for the rough ride. Every now and then he’d lean forward slightly and sniff her hair.

“I don’t know why I keep doing that,” he murmured.

“Neither do I,” she said. “I haven’t had a shower or anything.”

He laughed. “You smell perfect, just like this.”

He’d taught her all kinds of self-defense moves, but he hadn’t taught her how to defend her heart. He was going to break it, she was sure. When they got to Reno, she’d turn in the evidence against Tobin and go back to her life, and Blake would go back to his. What they were doing now, this was just a fun distraction.

At least, that’s what she kept telling herself. Whatever she felt for this guy, it was all in her head. These feelings always were—they were something she made up every damn time to camouflage the fact that she always chose the wrong guy. She’d picked assholes and douchebags and finally, a criminal, and she’d gotten her heart broken every time.

Blake set her down next to a huge gray boulder, and she leaned against it, finding her balance after being carried around.

“Do you need me to walk awhile?” she asked. “It can’t be easy hauling me around like this.”

“No, I’m fine. But you’re hungry. I could hear your stomach growling.”

She laughed, “Even I couldn’t hear my stomach growling.”

“Shifter senses.” He pointed to his ears. Rummaging in his pack, he pulled out a granola bar. “It’s either this or some more instant oatmeal.”

“The bar is fine, thanks.” She took a bite and washed it down with water he passed her in an aluminum bottle. “Why aren’t you eating?”

“It’s the last bar.”

She stopped before she took her next bite. “I can’t eat your last granola bar.”

“Yes you can, and you will. You need your strength out here.”

“Strength for what? To be carried?”

He shook his head. “I can always catch some prey if I’m hungry.”

“And when will you have a chance to do that? Here.” She broke off half of the bar and thrust it at him. “Take it, or I’m not eating my share.”

His caramel eyes narrowed, but he took the bar.

She gave him her sweetest smile. “There,” she said. “I knew you could be reasonable.”

He set his half of the granola bar on his pack and stalked forward. “I don’t know if reasonable is the right word.”

He took another step, and Hera gulped. That predatory look in his eyes—he was focused only on her. Coupled with his crooked smile, it caused liquid lust to pulse through her veins.

“I can smell how turned on you are,” he said. “You’re wet. For me.”

He was right, but she’d never give him the satisfaction of saying so. He took yet another step toward her, almost as if he was stalking her and checking out the best point of attack.

She didn’t have anywhere to go; her back was already pressed against the huge boulder. She feigned nonchalance. “Whatever you think you smell, doesn’t mean anything right now. We have—”

He cut her off, not with words or gestures, but with his presence. One moment he was a few feet away, and the next he was right in front of her, his mouth so close to hers she could stick out her tongue and taste him if she wanted to.

And oh, she wanted to.

“What were you saying?” he asked, his voice a whisper. He pried away the remains of her granola bar and leaned back to set it next to his half on his pack.

“I—I don’t know,” she breathed.

He pressed into her, and she could feel the hard length of him against her stomach. He smirked. “You want this.”

She bit her lip. She wasn’t going to tell him anything.

He lifted her arms over her head and used one hand to hold her wrists. His other hand stroked her side and came to rest on her breast.

“You want this,” he said, using his thumb to rub a slow circle around her nipple, not touching the center but so close. She panted with need.

“I’m not going to do anything else to you,” he growled, “until you tell me you want this.” He pressed against her again, still holding her arms above her head. She parted her legs, wanting to feel more of him, wanting to feel him everywhere.

“No?” he said, pouting. “Well, since you won’t admit it…” He still kept her hands, but he took a slow step away from her.

“Yes!” she yelped. “Yes, I want it.”

He chuckled. “I thought so.”

Immediately his warm mouth was on hers. He pressed his tongue against her lips and she opened readily for him, wanting to taste him, feel him on her everywhere, inside and out. Her whole body tingled with desire, with need.

“I want you—”

“Shh,” he said. “Don’t talk, or I’ll stop. You don’t want that, do you?”

She shook her head, almost frantic. No, he couldn’t stop. She’d melt into a puddle of molten desire and never be able to pick herself up again.

With his free hand, he jerked down her jeans so they circled her ankles. The morning mountain air was cool against her wet panties.

“Step out of them and kick them away,” he ordered.

She did. He leaned back to look at her. “Your lacy panties are all wet,” he mused. “What should I do about this?”

She didn’t risk answering him. He’d said not to talk, and the price for disobeying him was too high.

He brushed his hand over her underwear, cupping her mound. Her arms were still up over her head. She squirmed toward him, wanting to feel more of him against her, wanting the release that only friction could bring. With her arms restrained, she had to trust that he’d give her that release.

“Ah ah,” he said, making a tsking sound with his teeth. “I’ll take care of that. And I think, for this, I’ll leave those sexy panties of yours on.”

He removed his hand from between her legs so he could unfasten his jeans. He shrugged them down a little bit, just enough to free his massively hard cock. The tip of it rubbed against the fabric of her top. He pulled a condom from one of his pockets and ripped it open with his teeth, then slid it one-handed onto his erection.

He guided himself against the lace of her underwear. With two fingers, he slid her underwear to the side and rubbed his head against her slick center.

She moaned, trying to grind against him, but he pulled back. “My job,” he said. “Not yours.”

She froze, and tried not to pout.

“That’s my girl,” he breathed. “That’s my Hera.”

Then he pushed his way inside. She gasped, arching involuntarily, and felt herself clamp around him, both wanting to hold him there forever and wanting him to start moving inside her at the same time.

He pushed further into her slowly, stretching her. The movement caused the lace of her underwear to rub against her clit. It was almost too much. Her breath quickened, and she moaned uncontrollably.

He stopped moving. “Not yet,” he said. “We’ll get back to the ranch soon. Sooner if you let me carry you. And right now, we’re going to take our time.”

She wanted to groan with disappointment. She was so ready for release, and here he was, teasing her. He pulled out just a bit, and she tried to keep him inside, hooking one leg around his knee. He smiled, his eyes blazing into hers. “I knew you wanted this,” he said. “I know what’s good for you, don’t I?”

She didn’t let herself answer, but inside she was shouting,
Yes, yes, for fuck’s sake, YES!

“You can nod or shake your head. Do I know what’s good for you?”

She nodded.

“That’s right, Hera. I know what’s good for you, and I’m going to bring you.” He slid in and out of her faster now. “I’m going to make you come, and after all this silence, the first thing you say will be my name.”

The friction of her panties against her clit, combined with his fluid strokes and his fingers and teeth on her breasts, became too much. She shattered around him. “Blake!” she shouted. “Blake!”

“That’s right,” he said, pumping faster now. Suddenly he jerked once, twice, and a third time inside of her, and she felt him reach his own release. She clamped around him, still riding the waves of her own climax.

“Hera,” he moaned into her shoulder. He let go of her wrists and her arms floated slowly down to her sides, feeling as rubbery as her legs.

“I don’t think I could walk right now if I wanted to,” she murmured, biting his neck playfully.

He carefully pulled out of her. With the toe of his hiking boot, he kicked a shallow burial place in the ground for the condom.

He was so sexy, she thought. Even doing the most mundane, awkward of tasks.

As if reading the thought in her eyes, he leaned forward and took her earlobe in his teeth, biting down gently. She gave him a sleepy smile, already regretting that with each hour, their time together was running out.

“Guess we better get dressed and get going,” he said.

She looked down at herself, all sweaty and wet. “Is there anywhere I can clean up, first?”

He raised his head as if scenting the air. “There’s a spring just a few hundred feet past our Love Boulder, back that direction.”

“I’ll be right back,” she said, grabbing her jeans.

“Hey,” he said.

She turned. The look on his face was nervous, almost. “Are you all right?” she asked.

She could see his Adam’s apple move while he swallowed. Immediately she felt compassion for him and took the couple of steps over to stand next to him and pull him into a hug—what could have him so worried?

He rested his head on top of hers and said, “I know it’s soon for humans, but shifters know their mates right away. At least, that’s what I’ve heard, but I’ve never seen it before. Don’t freak out, but you’re it for me. Whatever you decide to do with that information, it’s okay. I just want you to be happy.”

She felt as if she’d been simultaneously kicked in the gut and kissed breathless. “I’m—I’m it?”

He kept his arms around her, but stepped back so she could see his face. This handsome shifter—he wanted
her
?

“I couldn’t send you off to Reno without you knowing, first.” He grinned. “Just go get cleaned up. I’ll be waiting for you here.”

Chapter Sixteen

He watched her walk away. It had been a gamble to tell her about the mate thing. But she really did have to know. It wouldn’t do either of them any favors if she walked away from him tonight and never came back. Maybe she’d find happiness in the arms of someone else, but chances were slim. And those chances were nonexistent for him. One shifter, one mate. Sure, shifters could fuck all kinds of people before they found their mates. And if their mates left them for whatever reason, they could fuck people afterward, too. But it would never mean anything.

None of his brothers had found a mate yet. He’d be the first, and he’d get all kinds of shit for it.

He smiled. That didn’t matter. He’d found his mate. He’d found Hera.

Chapter Seventeen

She was still processing Blake’s words. She was “it” for him. His mate. What did it even mean? It was definitely a shifter thing. She’d ask him when she went back. He’d tell her—he’d been nothing but straightforward and honest (and damn sexy) since she saw him shift from a lion back into a human.

The stream was shallow, not even enough to wade in because of the drought, but she clambered over the smooth stones at its banks and dipped her toes in. She scooped up water with her hands, and rubbed it over her thighs until she’d washed away the sweat and fluids from their lovemaking. That had been so hot. She’d never let a guy restrain her like that before—it had seemed too risky. She needed to really trust someone to do something like that, and after years of picking the wrong guys over and over again, her trust was hard to earn.

It seemed Blake had earned it in less than two days.

Maybe there was something to the “mate” thing after all.

Not wanting to put her jeans on over damp skin, she sat on a large sunny rock that had been smoothed by the stream once upon a time, when the water had been higher. She needed time to think. If Blake thought she was his mate, what did that mean for her if she left? What did it mean for him? She frowned at the beautiful scene around her, the sparkling creek, the dusky pines swaying in the breeze. The ground, dotted with their pinecones. The silence of the woods. It was beautiful here. She didn’t miss Winston in the slightest.

Could she give up her (admittedly crappy) life, and stay here with Blake? Did shifters even want that for their mates, or did they ask for distance? She felt a bleak emptiness in her heart at the thought of him sending her away.

Shit. She was falling for him, too.

A large hand landed on her shoulder.

“I thought I might find you here,” a male voice said, amusement laced in his words.

The voice didn’t belong to Blake.

It belonged to Tobin.

She tried to wrench away, but his hold was fast on her shoulder.
Stomp on the instep
, she thought, remembering what Blake had taught her. But her feet were bare, and he had on hiking boots. Thinking quickly to another move, she twisted away while elbowing him in the solar plexus. He let her go with an oath. She was free!

Hera scrambled away, putting as much distance between them as possible. But Tobin didn’t chase her.

Instead he moved to stand about twenty feet away in the shadows of a dense grouping of pines and brush. He wore jeans and a black shirt, but she saw his badge clipped to his belt. Figured. Even here, he was clutching his authority. And next to it, of course, was his gun holster. It was empty, because he was pointing the weapon right at her.

“Go away, Tobin.” She made her voice as loud as possible without shouting. Blake would hear her, she guessed, with his keen senses.

“You’re not really in a position to be giving orders, darling.”

“I’m not your darling,” she said. “I broke up with you months ago.”

“And it seems you were spying on me. Hand over the photos and you can go. Unless you fancy a quickie. Hell, darlin’, you’re already half undressed for me.” His expression morphed from amusement to wrath. “Now give me the photos you took, you spying bitch.”