Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love (6 page)

Sobering as she gazed into his beloved face, she asked, “Do you know how much I love you?”

A half-smile stretched his well-formed lips. “Let’s see, would that be less than I love you but more than yesterday?”

“Not even close,” she murmured, eyes tearing at the devotion she read in his earnest gaze.

Damn, he was so beautiful to her. Six feet, five inches of prime male acreage, two hundred ninety-seven pounds of untamed, muscled strength, Hunter was any woman’s dream of masculinity. Every last inch and hulking pound was hers -- her personal eye-candy -- and so much more ...

Sure, there were a few gray hairs in the black mop he rarely took the time to groom.

Those glinting gray strands did not detract from his appeal; in fact, those signs of maturity heightened his attractiveness. His hazel eyes were so sexy with their swirls of green, brown, and lighter gold. That sharp blade of a nose stopped his face from being classically handsome, but given the choice, she wouldn’t change his features in any way. She loved every inch of him: his wide shoulders, slim waist, and long, muscular runner’s legs combined to make up a package that fired her lust and inspired her most erotic fantasies.

“You think you’re protecting me?”

Hunter sighed. “Only you would come up with a scenario like that after I’ve insulted you and barked at you.”

“Your bark is worse than your bite, but the thing is ... that last insulting suggestion is what gave you away.”

He came and sat beside her, hands clasped between his open knees. “I don’t understand.”

She leaned into him, keeping her hands to herself since he obviously needed her to do that. “I know you don’t, sweetie.” Taking a moment to compose and order her thoughts, Melody tried to find the right words to explain to him how she’d stumbled over his attempted deception.

“The first night we met, I wasn’t inclined to get involved with you. It took a lot of arguing on your part to convince me we could make a go of this relationship.” She turned to face Hunter, wanting him to see her eyes and know how sincere she was. “You made me believe in you. You didn’t promise nothing would ever hurt me, or I’d be safe forever. What you did promise is that you’d always be there to soothe any hurt, and you’d try to keep me Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love

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safe, even if that meant keeping me safe from you. When you said, ‘Bring yourself off!’ the pain in your eyes stole my breath away.”

Hunter groaned and hung his head. “I wanted to rip my tongue out the second the words left my damned mouth.”

She cupped his face in her hands. “I know to the depth of my being, that it hurt you more to say those words than it did for me to hear them.”

“Oh, babe!” His arms came around her, hugging hard, holding tight.

Melody hugged him back. After a while, she drew away, putting space between them so she could search his expression, but kept his hands enfolded in hers.

“Earlier, in the bathroom, you deliberately picked a fight. Being your usual leave-nothing-to-chance self, you used the one thing guaranteed to throw me off kilter, to mess with my head enough to make sure I wasn’t thinking straight. You used our sexual relationship, and it worked ... for a while.”

“What tipped my hand?” He kept his head bowed, eyes down, gazing at their entwined hands.

She looked down, too, drawn by his focused stare. As always, how well they contrasted caught Melody off guard. Like his name, Hunter McCallum’s complexion brought to mind the ancient warriors of the Scottish Heath, the rolling hills of Scotland. His skin glowed with the warmth of an even tan except beneath his pant line, where he was fair and pale under his dense body hair. His hands, though, were a nice warm brown a shade darker than tan, with a brush of short, coarse hair at knuckles and wrists that lent a masculine grace and beauty to the powerful appendages.

Entangled with his, Melody’s hands were colored a deeply shadowed mocha -- the dark brown of fresh-tilled ground, loamy and rich in minerals. They complemented each other.

“You accepted my apology and still wouldn’t fuck me.” She raised disbelieving eyes to his, humor bubbling over. “I mean ... come on, Hunter! There’s a term for your level of sexual need in the medical books -- satyriasis. In other words, you’re always ready to fuck.

There’s no way in hell you’d pass up a chance to have sex with me ...” She sobered. “... not unless you thought it would harm me in some way.”

His hands tightened on hers. “First off, I’m no damned satyr! Satyrs are always horny.

They’ll fuck anyone and anything, with or without consent. Secondly, the only woman I’m always ready to fuck is you.”

“But you didn’t,” Melody pointed out, “and thereby I rest my case. So I’ll ask you again ... what are you protecting me from? And don’t try to lie to me again. I don’t like it. I’m a grown woman and can face anything life dishes out as long as we face it together.”

Hunter released her hands and stood to pace about the room. His naked body gave off waves of nervous energy that Melody could almost feel crawling along her skin. The fine hairs on her arms and legs stood up, electrified by the wash of static in the air at his passing.

28 Camille Anthony

“You’re right, and I’m sorry, but I make no apologies for trying to shield you from this. I’m your mate, and it’s my job to see you content.”

Melody snorted. “It must be true what they say about canines having smaller brains!

Do I look like I’m content right now? Start talking, buddy.”

Running his hands through his hair, he finally told her what had precipitated their fight. “While I was at the office earlier, clearing up paperwork from the last gig, I got a call from Chase. He --”

“The cousin who was supposed to come and talk with Fortrayn and Rosa about Andrea?”

Hunter jolted to a standstill. Hands on his hips, he frowned down at her. “Please, honey, don’t interrupt me. This is hard enough to get through without losing my train of thought.”

“Sorry. Continue.” Her meek reply seemed to placate him, for he resumed his tale and his pacing.

“He should have been here three weeks ago, but a crisis in New York held him up.

When he called, I thought he wanted to tell me the time his plane would be coming in so I could pick him up from the airport.” A snarl ripped from his lips. “Imagine my surprise when the next thing out of his mouth was a warning to make my claim on you official or he would take you from me.”

“What?” Melody shot up off the bed, her eyes wide, mouth falling open in disbelief.

“Could he do that, Hunter? Could he force me to go with him?” Fear clawed its way up her spine, spilling chills down her arms and legs. The thought of anyone other than Hunter touching her, loving her, frightened the hell out of her.

She scurried over to Hunter and burrowed her body into his outstretched arms. “I thought you were the one in charge of this area. Does he outrank you?”

Hunter swept his huge hand down her back, soothing and calming her. “Take it easy, Melody. Calm down. I have you, and you’re safe. He’ll have to challenge. He doesn’t outrank me and can’t just dance in here and claim you.”

She shuddered, her mind racing over the possibilities. The fact that Hunter was telling her this indicated he didn’t consider it a light threat. She couldn’t believe -- didn’t want to let herself believe -- that some wulf could actually waltz in and snatch her away from the wulf she’d grown to love so desperately. “For how long?”

“What did you ask me, baby?” Hunter sounded distracted, as if his brain was off plotting strategies and angles, leaving only a small bit of consciousness to oversee his conversation with her.

Mel drew back and tilted her neck to meet his somber gaze, not caring that her own worry had to be naked in her eyes. “You said you have me, but for how long? If this Chase Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love

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can make a threat like this, and you’re worried enough to stop fucking me, he has to have a good chance of achieving what he’s threatened.”

Hunter stiffened under her hands. “The only way anyone will ever take you from me is over my dead body!” He spat the words, a vicious snarl accompanying them.

Melody gasped. Her heart fell like lead to her belly where it sat, poisoning her gut.

Lightheaded, she felt sick with dread. “Oh, my god, Hunter! That’s what the deed and the savings accounts are all about -- they’re your own insurance policies for us. You think Chase will kill you or win the challenge!”

“No, I don’t. I’m just covering all the bases ...”

Melody cut him off, her frantic words spilling from her in a jumbled rush. “Wait! He told you to make your claim official ... just what all does that entail?”

Hunter didn’t answer her. Moving over to the dresser, he yanked a pair of faded, soft jeans from the drawer and stepped into them, carefully nestling Buford to the left and easing the zipper up over his quiescent member. Stalking to the closet, he snatched a shirt off the rack and yanked his arms through the armholes. Only then did he turn to face her. She stood by the closet, stiff as a scarecrow, arms crossed and hands gripping her elbows.

Balling his hands into fist at his sides, he grimaced. “It entails fucking you in fur in front of the entire Pack. You know that. I’ve told you a hundred times that our bond isn’t secure and legal until our mating is approved by the Pack Alpha Prime. Barring that, mating in fur will solidify the bond between us, stopping any other wulf’s transgression until the verdict is given by the Alpha Prime.”

Face stern, Hunter put his hand on her and led her back to the bed and pressed her down. Her knees folded, dropping her on the side of the mattress. He stepped back, faced her like an automaton, emotion damped and set aside, intent on dragging every unsavory aspect of his recent behavior into the unmerciful light of self-judgment.

“They say confession is good for the soul. Well, I’m not proud of what I almost did, earlier. I headed home fully prepared to get this over with -- mount you, negate the threat and meet Chase with a fait accompli. I probably burned all the tread off the motorcycle tires going so fast. For those first frantic moments, it didn’t matter to me that you would be unwilling -- or at the very least, unenthusiastic -- and frightened. All I cared about was making sure Chase couldn’t take you from me.”

Hunter met her worried gaze, revealing the shame that turned his hazel eyes a muddy green. “My decision was cowardly and wrong. It was unworthy of your trust and defiled our growing bond. I should have been thinking about what was best for you, what would best meet your needs. Instead, I thought only of myself.”

“You’re what’s best for me!” Melody cried, twisting her hands in her lap, wishing she could get through to him, help him see his actions through her eyes, not his more judgmental ones. “There was nothing wrong with wanting to make sure your slimy cousin doesn’t waltz in here and try to steal me out from underneath you. God, the nerve of that guy!”

30 Camille Anthony

Hunter’s eyes flared with thankful heat at her words, but then he shook his head, refusing her mercy. His eyes dulled. “Maybe so, Mel, but I think there’s definitely something wrong with not taking your needs into consideration. And to top it all off, your reaction pissed the hell outta me. When I told you what I planned, you responded with fear.”

He smiled ruefully. “Actually, that was a good thing, because it enabled me to regain enough control to put the brakes on.”

“Well, take them off!” Mel jumped to her feet and rushed to him, trying her best to undress him. “Change and we can do what’s necessary, now,” she screeched, tugging at his shirt. “I don’t want some other wulf’s hands on me, touching me, Hunter.” She panted tearfully. “I couldn’t bear it ...”

He took her hands in his and chafed her cold flesh. “No. Melody, stop it. We won’t take the easy way out -- not like this ...”

“Why not?” she wailed. “Why the hell not, for god’s sake? What’s wrong with the easy way? Why even accept Chase’s challenge?”

“I told you I wouldn’t be manipulated, and I meant it,” Hunter growled, his face stiff and cold. “To fuck you in my fur form simply to stop Chase’s insanity is wrong. It should mean something when we do it.”

“Screw that shit!” Cold anger coated Melody’s words in ice. “I will never understand men! God, I hate testosterone poisoning. Your sudden hardheaded reticence to do what you’ve been pushing me toward the past three months could very well prove tragic for both of us!”

She fisted her hands at her hips and got in Hunter’s face. “You listen to me good, Hunter McCallum. You get your buff ass naked, change, and get your furry ass in that bed,”

she shouted, pointing to their king-sized bed. “I won’t take the risk of having you killed or hurt, do you hear me?”

“I am the Alpha of San Francisco. Am I Alpha of this den?” Hunter drew himself up to his full height as he waited for her answer. He slowly drew back, distancing his emotions and body from Melody.

She felt his retreat, felt him throw up barriers to their mental connection, leaving her alone and forlorn. She bit back a whimper, mind and body aching at his absence. She hadn’t been alone in her head since that first night when Hunter had bit her and established their first link.

Well shit, there’s the rub, isn’t it?

Hunter’s quiet statement of who he was couldn’t be denied. His straightforward question demanded an answer. She couldn’t ignore his unspoken demand. No way in hell could she knowingly snatch away his pride or belittle his manhood. Her shoulders sagged.

On a deeply despondent sigh, she gritted her teeth and forced herself to nod. It was hard, Werewulf Journals 2: Trolling for Love

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bending her neck, and she didn’t hold the position long. She usually didn’t do subservient, but for her man’s pride ... “Yes, you are Alpha of this den -- Alpha of my heart.”

His eyes blazed at her answer. His hands came up and cupped her cheeks. His thumbs wiped away the tears dripping from her eyes. “Then you hear me, Melody, when I tell you no wulf will dictate my actions in my territory or in my den.”

Bending to her lips, he took her mouth in a slow, soft conquest of tongue and lips and teeth. Trailing lower, skimming her jawbone, he brushed his lips against his mark, breathing hot air across it, making it and her tingle. “You’re mine, Melody ... forever. If I have to win you on the challenge field, I will. When I mate you -- and I will mate you, my sweet, sexy bitch -- it will be because we have chosen to make the deepest commitment of all to each other. We will be forging a bond that only death will end. It’s too important to me to tarnish it by making it a convenience.”