Wolf's Capture (9 page)

“You are a jerk.”

“Why? Because I won’t let you stumble around in the dark?”

“I know this cage better than I know you. I’d have no problem.”

“It’s cold, and there’s only one bed.”

“I’m well aware of that and the fact you seem to think you can use it. And me. I won’t allow it.”

“You seem to have gotten the wrong impression, sweetheart. I didn’t get nude for you. I did it because it’s more bloody comfortable. Have you ever slept in jeans? The fabric chafes, especially against my more manly parts. Johnson needed fresh air.”

“Johnson?”

“Yeah, Johnson. It’s what I call
it
.”

“You named your penis?”

He cringed. “Ack, woman. Don’t use that word.”

“What word? Penis?”

He growled.

“Penis. Penis. Penis.”

He growled louder.

She laughed. “I can’t believe you’re offended by the word. I mean, haven’t I heard you use the word fuck?”

“A perfectly acceptable verb, pronoun, and adjective.”

“And penis is the accepted name for your man parts.”

He almost flinched. There was only one word worse than the P one.

“So does this mean you hate the word vagina too?”

“I swear, Bait, if you don’t stop, I will let Johnson gag you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Keep teasing me and you’ll find out.”

She went silent and stiff. He could practically scent her fear. Shit. So much for his plan to get her to trust him. He tried to ease her mind. “Relax. I wouldn’t actually do that.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

He sighed. “You don’t. But I can tell you right now that if I truly wanted to harm you or seduce you then you’re hardly strong enough to stop me.”

Once again, she went completely still. “You know, that really wasn’t the most encouraging thing you could have said.”

“No. It wasn’t. And yet…” He nuzzled the back of her neck, his nose parting the hair until he could touch the skin of her nape. A shiver went through her. “For some reason, even though we keep clashing, you desire me.”

“Do not.”

“Don’t forget, I’m a wolf. I can smell it.”

“That’s disturbing.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the way she uttered it. “Only to those with a less than refined sense of smell. To those of us who live every moment with it, it’s all part and parcel of how we perceive the world, and it influences our acts.”

No denying scent, especially hers, certainly had an effect. Even though he’d yet to make up his mind on Layla, he couldn’t stem his attraction to her. Not one bit.

Nuzzling her didn’t help. Spooning her body to follow its every contour just made it worse. She ensorcelled him without doing a damned thing.

He wasn’t alone in suffering from the attraction. “How do I make it stop?” she asked.

The idea that she couldn’t help but want him made his longing even fiercer. He chuckled. “Easy. Don’t desire me.”

“I don’t want to. But I can’t seem to control it.”

So grudgingly admitted. His wolf preened and wagged its tail, but Brody wanted to show his thanks in a more sensual fashion. He let his lips run over the skin of her neck. “Well, how about I help you with your problem? You don’t have to worry about seducing me. I don’t sleep with the enemy.” Not entirely true. If the mission called for it, he would have sex. For Intel, of course.

He could almost hear his old sarge bark,
Boy, sometimes you’ve got to do ugly things. And sometimes you get to fuck pretty things. Just always remember, it’s for the good of the mission.

A sigh left her in a big rush of air. “I’m not the enemy. For you at any rate. You, however, are a problem.”

If they weren’t enemies, the possibilities expanded. Or not.

Brody needed to remind himself that, prisoner or not, she’d abetted in some crimes against the clan. “Even if we’re both prisoners, it doesn’t put us on the same side. You helped attack my town and the people I’m responsible for.” In actuality, she’d done no worse than Gene.
And we managed to forgive him.
After punching and kicking him a few times to vent. Or, as Sarge would have called it, given him some tough love.

“I had to.”

A disbelieving snort left him. “How did you have to launch wild wolves at people?”

“And bunnies. Don’t forget the vicious bunnies.”

His lips twitched. He would not think of the big-eared menaces that had swarmed the town. Good thing he liked rabbit stew. “This isn’t funny.”

“You’re right, it’s not. I’m sorry if I had to attack people you knew, but I did what I had to. I don’t have many choices. And you might note that while my supposed side suffered numerous fatalities yours didn’t as far as I know.”

To that Brody snapped his mouth shut as he made that connection. “You mean, you purposely held back?”

“I’m not saying anything except apparently wild animals are no match for real shifters.”

Brody clamped his lips as it suddenly occurred to him the girl was trying to avoid spilling secrets with a camera and microphone watching and listening to their every move.

But she had one fact wrong. “Someone did die. That first driver whose truck was hijacked back when everything started.”

“Oh he wasn’t killed by us. The bugger keeled over on his own. Bad ticker. Which is usually rare for your kind.”

Rare, but not unheard of. While they did heal at a quicker rate than humans, they were still susceptible to imperfections and the signs of aging.

Given her loquacious mood, he decided to see what other information he could glean. Starting with her powers. “You control animals.”

“And some insects, too.”

“That’s just weird.”

“Weirder than howling at the moon and needing a flea bath?”

“I’ll have you know, I get my flea and tick shot every spring before the season starts.”

She couldn’t completely mask her snort of amusement. “Good to know. I won’t waste my time ordering my insects to bite you.”

“So you can do small, what about big? How large of a beast can you control?”

“It’s not the size that matters. It’s my access to their mind and how strong their self-will is.”

“Do you read it?”

Could she read his right now, which said they should put their mouths to better use than talking?

“No. I don’t. And I really don’t want to discuss it. If you don’t mind, I’m going to sleep so I can enjoy my scintillating day of staring at the walls and electroshock therapy.”

She pillowed her hands under head but didn’t attempt to escape his grip.

Rest was a good plan. He needed a clear head. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? But he wasn’t ready yet. He nudged at her to see if he could get her to resume talking. “I’ve noticed you’re not afraid of speaking out. I’m surprised. Isn’t some of this shit you’re telling me secret?”

“Yes. But you don’t have to worry. Master has no idea what we’re saying.”

“Um, in case you hadn’t noticed, there’s a camera watching us, and I would assume a microphone.”

She giggled. “No microphone anymore. While I was reading this afternoon, I took care of it. It’s the funniest thing. The spiders in this place keep gumming up the receiver.”

Creepy or cool? He wasn’t sure. “You can get them to web it? Why not do the camera, too, then?”

“Because the lens wipes off too easily, unlike the hole in the mic. Besides, I’ve found so long as he can see, he doesn’t care about listening. And I don’t have to spend a day sitting here sniffing the fumes from bug spray.”

The more she revealed about her freaky powers, the less daunted he found himself, which he didn’t understand. By all accounts, she was a dangerous weapon. In the wrong hands, like the current ones, she could really cause some havoc.

But telling a girl she was probably better off dead before she was forced to cause some kind of
Planet of the Apes
rebellion with every fucking creature, and bug, on the planet probably wouldn’t go over well. So he asked Layla the less offensive question. “How old are you?”

“Why do you care?”

“Just making conversation.”

“More like profiling me I’ll bet.” How well she already knew him. “I’m twenty-three. And you?”

“Older.”

“I see this conversation is going to be one-sided.”

Her sarcastic snipes amused him. So he gave her a little. “I’m old enough to know that my snuggling with you under this blanket probably isn’t a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Because now I really have to kiss you.”

He did.

Right now.

Before she could protest, he angled her head so his lips could find hers. The darkness didn’t stop him. Neither did common sense. He could lie and say he did this as part of a plan to advance his cause, but really, he kissed her because he just couldn’t handle being this close to her and not touching.

Her lips parted with a soft exhalation of surprise. He caught it and reveled in the warm breath, the essence of her mixing with his own. She tasted of the toothpaste she’d used to brush her teeth, still minty fresh, and yet, the spice at her core still managed to seep through.

It made him hunger.

He rolled her onto her back and partially covered her with his body, giving himself fuller access to her mouth. He plundered its soft recess, his tongue thrusting and sliding along hers while his hand skimmed the curves of her frame. To his groaning delight, she matched him for passion and ferocity.

As she clumsily fumbled, but learning quickly, their teeth clashed, and harsh pants mingled. No tempest ever raged so tumultuously.

Given her eager reception to his embrace, he gave in to another temptation. He allowed himself to cup the full breast he’d gotten hints of. It filled his hand. Spilled out of it. A perfect size.

Fuck, did he want to wrap his lips around the fat nipple he bet topped it? A grand idea.

He left the sweetness of her lips and grazed his way down the smooth column of her neck, noting the rapid flutter of her pulse. Encountering the collar, he was starkly reminded of their situation. But it didn’t stop him.

Nothing could at this point, not with need thrumming through every inch of his body.

Still palming her heavy globe, he let his mouth skim the fabric hiding her breast until he hit the protrusion of her nipple. Then he latched on.

She cried out, her hands suddenly clasping his hair, tugging at it, encouraging him to suck some more. So he did, tweaking the tip with his teeth and then taking the covered bud into his mouth.

How he suddenly hated the gown that hid her glorious assets from him.

His cock throbbed against Layla’s lower belly, but not against skin.

Need to touch.

He let his hand travel down the length of her, skimming over curves he wished he could see, but at least could feel.

Reaching the edge of her gown, which had ridden up to mid thigh, he tugged at it, pulling higher, wanting to rid himself of this barrier.

He growled in annoyance and then wanted to slap himself.

Her whole body went rigid. She stopped breathing. Stopped squirming. And in the darkness he couldn’t miss her horrified whisper. “What am I doing? We need to stop.”

A true jerk would have ignored her feeble attempt to halt things. He could smell her desire, feel it in the heat that radiated from her skin and how her heart raced.

But, he wasn’t an animal—most of the time. And especially not when it came to sex.

With Layla, though, abstaining from what they both needed—oh, how he needed—practically hurt. With gritted teeth, he turned away from her but didn’t leave the bed. He still needed a place to rest and stay warm.

And she needed to get used to him.

Because it wasn’t a lack of desire that made her turn away from him but rather the uncontrollable need, the loss of control. He could understand that because it freaked him out, too.

Since when did he let emotions overtake his common sense? Since when did his selfish desires trump his safety?

Since I met my siren.

An apt name for her. Much like the creatures of legend, Bait enticed him but, in her case, with more than just her voice. She seduced him with her entire being.

Ack.
So not ready. Commitment was something other men did. Men who liked to stay home and work mostly nine to five. Brody wanted more from life than a mundane existence.

And why was he even thinking of domestication—that bad, bad word?

I have one mission. Escape. Everything else is a distraction.

He rolled to his back beside her, listening to her breathe, counting the flutters of her heartbeat as it took its time slowing down. He could have stated with certainty when he knew sleep finally overtook her.

With the possibility of danger low, because there was no way he’d miss anyone approaching the cage, he allowed himself to close his eyes. He placed himself in a trance that rested but kept him partially aware.

Watch. Guard.
His wolf would keep them safe.

Despite knowing his furry friend wouldn’t let him down, slumber eluded him. He was fully aware when Layla turned and rolled against him in her sleep. She slung an arm and a leg over him, and he allowed himself to place his arms around her. He relaxed even further into his almost hypnotic state. And then…slept.

Waking to find her face pressed against bare skin was new. Not unpleasant either. The hair on the chest she pillowed felt soft and springy, unlike the man. Flirty one minute, flinty the next.

Layla no longer knew what to think of Brody, other than he was dangerous.

Very, very dangerous.

Look at the previous evening for example. She’d allowed him to take liberties with her person. She’d not struggled once when he kissed her, or groped her, or done that really wicked thing with his lips and teeth on her breast.

On the contrary, why stop it when she wanted more? But she had put a halt to his advances. Needed to remember he was a stranger with an as-of-yet-unknown agenda.

To his credit, Brody immediately took heed, stopping his delightful torture, leaving her aching.

The yearning was almost a worse form of torture. It seemed to take forever before her body finally cooled enough to sleep. But, apparently, she’d managed to slumber because how else to explain why she found herself plastered against him, an arm and leg possessively draped, her face pressed against a pectoral, and his amused voice saying, “Morning, Bait.”