Dark Wolf Rising (Bloodrunners) (8 page)

“Elric?”

He shot her a quick glance, before returning his attention to the road. “I thought you’d gone to sleep.”

“Did I?” she asked around a small yawn. “I must have been dreaming. I thought we were talking about football. You were telling me about how Aaron Rodgers is the best quarterback in the league right now, and I was arguing that he didn’t have anything on Peyton Manning. Then you accused me of liking Peyton ’cause he’s cute.”

Was she hallucinating? Jesus, what the hell was pumping through her system? He hated not knowing, frustration making his voice hard and rough, with more than a little of his wolf in it. “Damn it, Chelsea. Why couldn’t you have just listened to me and stayed away from that place?”

“Dunno.”

He gripped the wheel so hard he was surprised it didn’t crack. “You got a death wish I don’t know about?”

“I wasn’t trying to get myself killed,” she said softly, her gaze focused out her window. “I just wanted to ask them some questions. But they forced me into that back room and shot some awful needle in my arm, and then everything went... Hey, look at that! I just saw a purple kangaroo in that field over there!”

“Hell,” he muttered, pulling his hand down his face. “You’re as high as a kite.”

Her head came around so fast he was surprised she didn’t give herself whiplash. “I’m not high!” she gasped, sounding scandalized. Not to mention insulted.

The corner of his mouth twitched as he fought back a smile. “Honey, you’re so baked you can’t even see straight.”

“I am?” She put both hands on her cheeks, her expression as woeful as a little girl who’d just lost her puppy. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” he grunted, wondering when he’d become such a sap. “It’ll probably start wearing off in a little while. But I need to go ahead and ask you some questions.”

“Okay. I’m ready.”

Eric grabbed one of the bottles of water he kept behind his seat, then handed it to her with the order to drink it. After she’d taken a few sips, he said, “Did they ask you any questions before they doped you up?”

Nodding, she said, “A few of them did.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Not much. Just that I was looking for Perry. And that you had kicked me off your land.”

“You gave them my name?”

Her nose scrunched. “I think so.”

Shit. Now he didn’t know what the hell was going on. Had they kept her because of Perry...or because of him?

“Eric,” she murmured, setting the water bottle in a cup holder, “I don’t feel so good.”

“What’s wrong?” He could feel a frown settling between his brows. “Are you going to be sick?”

“No,” she moaned, turning on her side and curling against the back of the seat. “I just can’t stop...aching inside.”

Fury swept through his veins like a blistering flame. “Where?” he rasped, terrified that she’d been raped and hadn’t told him. “What the hell did they do to you?”

She shook her head, her long hair streaming over her shoulders. “It’s not that,” she groaned. “I think...I think it’s the shot they gave me.” The words were forced through her chattering teeth. “I’m...it’s too much. I feel like I’m coming out of my skin!”

His jaw was clenched. “Where do you hurt?”

“Everywhere...” Her voice trailed off on a startled gasp, and he could scent the change the instant it hit her. One second she’d smelled of sexy female and exhaustion—and in the next, her scent exploded into something hot and wet and hungry. It hit him so hard he nearly drove off the side of the road, straight into a friggin’ telephone pole.

“Chelsea?” he croaked, wondering what the hell was going on. He could taste her escalating arousal on the air as if it were sitting in his mouth, on his tongue. Could feel it stroking over his skin like a physical touch. With each second that went by, her lush scent was getting thicker...richer, his wolf so turned on he was ready to howl.

“Eric,
Oh, God.
I’m burning up,” she moaned, her tone needy and sexual, making him sweat. Then she reached up and started tugging at the buttons on her white, short-sleeved shirt, and he nearly died.

Hell, no. This could
not
be happening.

Cursing, Eric grabbed his phone again and quickly called Jeremy’s number. “Change of plans,” he barked, the instant Jeremy picked up. “I need Jillian. Now!”

“Hold on, man. I’ll get her.”

While he waited for the healer, Eric struggled with Chelsea’s suddenly wandering hands, his eyes nearly crossing when she reached down and ran her palm over the blatant ridge that was trapped behind his button fly.

“Goddamn it. Stop that!” he growled, jerking her hand away from the most ill-timed hard-on he’d ever had.

Jillian’s voice was suddenly coming through the phone. “Eric?”

Panting, he said, “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Listen. Cian just called Jeremy on the house line. He and Brody are almost in Wesley. Do you need them to meet you?”

“No! Tell them to head back home.”

“You’re sure?”

He imagined Chelsea trying to run her hands over a smirking Hennessey and nearly popped a blood vessel. “Yeah. If that Irishman comes within twenty feet of me right now, Brody’s gonna be looking for a new partner.”

“Um, okay. I’ll pass along the message.” He could hear her telling Jeremy to call Cian back, and then she said, “Now tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s Chelsea. Something’s wrong with her.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was shot up with something at the club, and when I found her, she was unconscious. Since she came to, she’s been pretty much out of it. Then she started complaining about burning up, saying she was coming out of her skin, and the next thing I knew, her scent was off the charts.”

“Does she smell aroused?”

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d blushed, but he felt himself go hot around the ears. “Uh, yeah. Big-time.”

“Eric, I think they’ve given her some kind of high-powered aphrodisiac.”

Son of a bitch.
He made a guttural sound deep in his throat, thinking of what those bastards must have had planned for her.

“Can you deal with it?”

“Deal with what?” he asked, distracted by the tempting thought of turning around, heading back to the club and ripping the throat of out every scumbag who had planned on touching her.

Jillian’s tone was more forceful, demanding his attention. “Depending on how strong the drug is, she could end up in a lot of pain, Eric. I’ve heard of drugs like this before, and they’re rumored to be very powerful. I’d tell you to take her to a hospital, but I don’t think there’s anything they’d be able to do. She’s just going to have to ride it out, but the good news is that there shouldn’t be any long-term effects to worry about. As soon as you can, though, you’re going to want to get her someplace private, because there’s a strong chance she’s going to need help getting through it.”

“Help?” Sweat chilled on his skin. “What kind of help?”

“The main thing is that you make her comfortable. Try to keep her calm.”

He had to take the phone away from his ear for a moment as he struggled with Chelsea and those wandering, sanity-destroying hands of hers again. When she finally slumped back into her seat, her fingers busy undoing the rest of the buttons on her shirt, he lifted the phone back to his ear. “What exactly are you saying?” he asked, sounding breathless and pissed and completely freaked out. “Spell it out for me, Jillian. I can’t have any gray areas here.”

“Okay. If she needs to orgasm, then make her orgasm.”

Aware of the tenuous hold he had on his control, Eric pulled off the road and into the lot of an abandoned gas station, his chest working like a bellows as he slammed the truck into Neutral. “Goddamn it,” he seethed, forcing the words through his gritted teeth. “I’m not going to rape her!”

“That’s not what I mean,” she said, her tone deliberately calm. “And I understand what an uncomfortable position this puts you in, but she needs you right now. Her body is going to seek release again and again, until the drug is out of her system. If she can’t make it happen on her own, then she’s going to need your help. It won’t require actual intercourse, though that’s probably what she’ll want.”

Covering his eyes with his hand, he muttered, “This is a bad fucking idea.”

“If you can’t handle it, Eric, then you need to bring her to the Alley right away. I’m sure Cian won’t mind—”

“Don’t,” he warned in a chilling tone, cutting her off. “Don’t even finish that thought.”

“Then stop acting squeamish and help her out,” she snapped, losing her temper. “You have no trouble screwing around with all those females up in Shadow Peak. I didn’t realize you were too good to touch a human.”

His breath left his lungs in a sharp, angry burst. “That’s bullshit and you know it. I have no problem with humans. Just this one!”

“God, Eric. What the hell has you so uptight about this woman?”

“I don’t know.” He was careful to keep his gaze focused straight ahead, but he could see the snowy white lace of Chelsea’s bra from the corner of his eye, and knew her feminine little shirt was now hanging wide open. “It’s... She’s...” He tried, but couldn’t put his feelings where she was concerned into words. At least not any that made sense.

“Eric,” Jillian said gently, and he tensed, knowing damn well she was about to drop another bombshell on him. “This isn’t the kind of thing I would normally ask over the phone, but you don’t sound like yourself. So I’m just going to ask. What is this woman to you?”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Is she
yours?
”

His stomach churned. “No. My wolf didn’t recognize her scent. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to get involved with her.”

“Well, the choice is yours. You can always call back and let me know what hotel you take her to, and then I can pass the information on to Cian.”

And you know what Hennessey’s like,
his wolf snarled.
The Irishman would get such a kick out of this. He’d be more than happy to lend her a helping hand.

“Jillian.”

“Yeah?”

With a ragged sigh, he said, “Sometimes you can be such a bitch.”

“But you love me anyway, right?” He could hear the smile in her voice.

“At the moment, all I want is to put you over my knee.”

She gave a delicate snort. “Just be careful, and call me if you have any problems.”

A gritty, humorless laugh surged up from his chest. “This whole goddamn night is a problem.”

“You’re going to be fine, Eric. Just trust your instincts.”

“That’s the
last
thing I trust,” he muttered, disconnecting the call and shoving the phone back in his pocket.

Scrubbing his hands down his face, Eric struggled to get his thoughts into some kind of order, but it was impossible. Awareness of the all-too-human Chelsea Smart prickled across his skin like crackling sparks of electricity, his body vibing to a hot, jagged pulse of need. He could
feel
her,
scent
her, like the promise of something ripe and sweet, the husky cadence of her breaths the sexiest damn thing he’d ever heard. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was gonna make it out of this with his sanity intact. The only thing he could hope for was that he could still look at himself in the mirror come morning.

You’re making the right choice,
his wolf rasped, its low tone thick with satisfaction.

“Shut up,” he grated, knowing damn well the animal was looking forward to getting its hands on her. “I don’t want to hear a single word out of you.”

“What?” she murmured, mistaking the guttural words as being meant for her. “But I didn’t say anything.”

“I know you didn’t, Chelse.” He took off the hand brake and put the truck into Drive, heading back out to the highway. “I was talking to myself.”

“Hmm. You want to know something? I can’t believe that you’re here with me. That you saved me. I was so scared, but not anymore.” She leaned over the center console, burying her nose in his throat, and he stiffened in shock when her tongue flicked against the hammering pulse throbbing beneath his skin. “Mmm,” she moaned, “you taste so good. I want to put my mouth on you...all over you...”

Christ, God, Almighty.

The hairs on the back of his neck lifted, his muscles knotting like thick coils of rope. Jillian had told him to trust his instincts, but every fraction of instinct he possessed was telling him this was going to be the longest friggin’ night of his life.

Hitting the gas, he wondered how long it would take before he lost his goddamn mind.

As Chelsea reached down, her small hand landing on his rigid thigh, Eric got his answer.

Not long at all.

Chapter Six

T
he motel room was decorated in pale shades of cream and blue—but the soothing color scheme wasn’t helping him relax. Eric was still as restless and on edge as he’d been when he’d found the motel on the outskirts of town. Still thrown completely off balance.

And now he was stuck in this tiny space with a woman he wanted so badly he couldn’t think straight.

With a hard, frustrated growl, Eric shoved his hands back through his short hair and locked his fingers behind his neck. She didn’t deserve this, damn it. Yeah, she might be stubborn and bad at listening to sound advice, but she was a good person. She didn’t deserve to be shoved into this kind of situation, and he was the last male on earth who should be laying his hands on her.

“Elric.”

The slurred, whispered sound of his name made him flinch. Taking a deep breath, he turned toward the bed...and the woman waiting there. He’d managed to get her to button her shirt back up before carrying her from the truck to the room, but it hadn’t helped much. She still looked incredibly sexy, all rumpled and flushed, as if she were lying there just waiting for him to fall on her like a sex-starved animal—which was exactly what he felt like. It didn’t matter how many women he’d bedded, or how recently he’d been with them. They hadn’t been Chelsea, and that seemed to make a helluva difference.

He was pretty sure he didn’t want to know why.

“It’s getting worse,” she moaned, holding her middle as if she was in pain. But her features were etched with sexual need, her heady scent thick with arousal. Whatever drug Curtis Donovan had given her, he had no doubt it was doing its job. Making her mindless with hunger. Making her as animalistic in her needs as he was.

“Is this...do I feel like this because of what they put in my arm?”

“Yeah.” His voice was little more than a croak. “The drug won’t hurt you, but it’s an aphrodisiac. It’s making you crave sexual release.”

“I...yes...
crave,
” she panted, moving onto her hands and knees and crawling toward him. Her eyes were glassy and bright, the deep blue reminding him of the sun-kissed surface of a lake. “You’ve got to hurry!”

“Damn it, Chelsea. You need to just take a second and think this through.” He curved his hands over her shoulders as she rose up on her knees at the foot of the mattress, her own hands fisting in his T-shirt. “You don’t want to do this,” he said unsteadily, trying to hold her away from him without hurting her. “You don’t even like me, remember?”

“Like you more than any other man I know.” She leaned forward, nipping his chest through the soft cotton, sending him a hungry look from beneath her lashes. “Please...don’t leave me like this.
Help me.
”

“Jesus,” he hissed, his fingers tightening on her shoulders. “It should be any other man in the world but me here with you. I’m not good for you, honey.”

She tilted her head back and stared up at him, her gaze slowly clearing, as if she was riding another momentary wave of lucidity. Her pink little tongue swept over her lips, and she seemed to be trying to calm her breathing as she said, “Eric, I know this sucks. And what I’m about to say probably doesn’t make a lot of sense, but you’re...you’re the only guy I know who I’d trust, no matter where I was. Home. Here. On a freaking desert island. If this
has
to happen, I want it to be you.”

“See?” His voice was raw. “That just proves it. You don’t have a clue what you’re saying.”

“Trust me, I know. I’m just...just too desperate to let my hang-ups get in the way. But if it makes you feel better, I’m sure I’ll be horrified that I said these things to you tomorrow. But only because I’ll be embarrassed. Not because you helped me.”

His nostrils flared as his own breathing turned ragged. “You’re putting me in an impossible situation, Chelsea.”

“
They
did this,” she countered, starting to tremble. “Not you. Not me. I’m just trying to get through it.”

If she’d been in her right mind, there wouldn’t have been a force on earth that could have kept him from shredding her clothes, spreading her legs and shoving himself so deep inside her he could feel her soul. But this wasn’t Chelsea’s choice—she might have chosen him, but she sure as hell hadn’t chosen the circumstances—and that changed everything. Shackled him in a way that he silently prayed would be enough. He couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. One momentary slip of a claw or fang, and the consequences would be disastrous.

“Lie down,” he rumbled in a low voice, reaching for one of her small, sneaker-covered feet. “Let’s see if we can get you more comfortable. Okay?”

“Just hurry!” she panted, her voice cracking, and he could feel the need rising inside her. Could scent it on her skin. She caught her lower lip in her teeth, imploring him for help with her glistening eyes.

“Shh. It’s okay. I’ll...take care of you.”
And probably lose my mind in the process, but hell, it’s not like I was all that sane to begin with.

If he had been, he never would have ended up in this kind of no-win situation, where every possible scenario and action seemed to make him a jerk. His stomach twisted, but he choked back his unease and turned his focus on Chelsea, determined to make it as easy for her as he could.

Tossing the shoe over his shoulder, he pulled off her sock and grinned down at the foot he held in his hand. “I was right.”

“About what?”

He ran the pad of his thumb over her red toenails. “Your feet
are
adorable.”

She smiled up at him with a wobbly, kinda shy curve of her lips as he dealt with the other shoe and sock, but he could see the pain building in her gaze, the normally bright blue bleeding into something dark and turbulent. “Take off my clothes, Eric.” They were soft, almost silent words, but he flinched as if she’d shouted them.

“I can’t.” His voice was hoarse...tight, the phrase
No way in hell
looping through his head again and again. He’d get her off, because it was what she needed, but the more barriers he could keep between them while he did it, the better.

Stretching out on the bed beside her, he pulled her close, her back to his front as they lay on their sides. He wondered if she could feel the pounding of his heart thudding against her spine as he closed his eyes and curved a hand over her hip, slowly sliding it between her legs. She jolted at the intimate contact, even though she still wore her jeans. But Eric could feel the heat of her through the already-damp denim, his jaw aching as he gritted his teeth and fought to maintain control. Ignoring his own raging need, he buried his face in her silky hair and used two fingertips to apply pressure where she needed it most—rubbing...stroking...working that sensitive peak with every ounce of skill he’d managed to acquire over the years.

It didn’t take long. She came hard and fast, her nails digging into his forearm as she held on, rocking against his stroking fingers while a sharp, keening sound slipped past her lips. But it wasn’t enough. If anything, the orgasm seemed to rocket her body into an even deeper level of craving and pain. “I...I need
more.
Please.
It hurts, Eric. I need...damn it, I need you inside me!”

He swore under his breath as he reached for the button on her jeans, his hand shaking as he worked down the zipper. Without giving himself time to think about what he was doing—how hard it was going to hit him—he pushed his hand under the elastic band of her panties and thought,
Oh, yeah...I am so going to hell for this.
Because at that exact moment, she shifted onto her back, spreading her legs, her knees falling toward her sides, and he couldn’t stop his heavy gaze from locking on to the erotic sight of his hand shoved down the front of her pants. Tight white panties were digging into his thick wrist, dark curls tickling his palm as he reached deeper, stroking his roughened fingertips over the soft, swollen lips of her sex. She was tender and slick, like hot, wet silk, burning to the touch.

He stroked around the puffy opening to her body, then moved back up to the hard little knot of her clit, trying not to think about how incredibly soft she was...how wet. But it was impossible. He couldn’t stop picturing how it would be if she wasn’t human. No hesitation. No restraint. He’d have already spread her open and shoved his face against her, his tongue greedily lapping those hot, melting juices...with no thought to anything but making her come, making her scream.

“Inside me,” she cried, pushing her hands down on his. “Now!”

Clenching his teeth, he rimmed the delicate, slippery opening again, thinking it seemed incredibly small as he pushed the tip of his index finger inside. Plush, sleek muscles clamped down on him, and he couldn’t stop the feral growl that rumbled up from his chest, imagining what it would feel like to have her clasping onto his dick like that.

“You’re so tight,” he ground out, pushing in another fingertip, then working both digits deeper inside, his free hand reaching over their heads and fisting around one of the headboard’s wooden slats. The wood groaned from the power of his grip, his fingers leaving deep impressions in the wood.

“You have such big fingers,” she moaned, her head tossing from side to side, arms thrown over her head in a purely sexual pose of surrender. “Feels
so
good.”

Ah, God, she had no idea. She was as tender and silky as a rain-slick petal, the mouthwatering scent of her sex the most addictive thing that had ever filled his head. He found her clit with his thumb, pumping his fingers as he buried his face in the pillow, fighting for control. Christ, this was insane. Nothing was supposed to feel this good...this
right.

When she finally settled after another shattering orgasm, relaxing beside him, Eric ripped himself away from her...the bed, and stumbled toward the bathroom at the opposite end of the room. He slammed the door shut behind him, shaking from head to toe as he leaned back against it, his breath sawing past his lips in a series of rough, rapid bursts.

For two seconds, he fought the urge to lift his slick fingers to his mouth, then lost. Nostrils flaring, he shoved them past his lips and nearly died, right there, in the cheap little motel bathroom with cracked linoleum all around him. He sucked on his fingers as if he’d been starved for days, her succulent taste exploding over his senses like something that could destroy him. It was
that
sweet...
that
decadent...
that addictive.
A narcotic that tasted like it’d been made especially for him.

His body ached, his hard cock pulsing with need, throbbing with pain. He badly wanted to take matters into his own hand and relieve the pressure, but knew it was too risky. Once out, he might never get the damn beast back in its cage.

Moving toward the sink, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it on the counter as he turned on the tap, then splashed his face with cold water. Lifting his head, Eric stared in the mirror, no longer recognizing the face staring back at him. It was hard, etched with need, his eyes glowing with the primitive hunger of the wolf, an unusual rim of amber around the brighter silver that he’d never seen before. He didn’t know what it meant—but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. Craving, dark and inhuman, battered against his conscience like a hammer, fighting to break him down...shatter his control.

You can do this. You can fight it. Just keep it the hell together.

At the same time, his wolf snarled for that reasonable voice to shut the hell up, urging him to act on the destructive craving clawing him to shreds on the inside, until he was amazed he hadn’t bled out from the aggressive force of his hunger.

Just take her... It’s what she wants. What she needs.

Opportunistic bastard! This wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to find her sister and be safe at home back in Virginia. She didn’t want her life turned upside down by a bunch of strangers, and especially by him. They’d rubbed each other the wrong way from the very beginning. Not that it kept him from wanting her so badly his stomach was tied in knots, his cock so hard he could have hammered it through a bloody wall.

She cried out, the bleak sound muffled by the door, but he could hear the pain and need in those husky notes, and knew she was suffering again. It was time to stop hiding in the bathroom like a green-eared teen and get his ass back out there. He splashed another couple of handfuls of cold water on his face and the back of his neck, then shook the water out of his hair and opened the door. A pale wash of light shone from the bedside lamp, illuminating the hollows and curves of her feminine little body in the center of the bed...and Eric nearly fell flat on his face.

Holy...shit.
Was she trying to kill him? Her white shirt was still buttoned up, all proper and prim—but she was completely naked from the waist down, her jeans and panties scattered over the floor, as if she’d literally thrown them off.

For a split second, he was frozen, held immobile by lust and hunger and things that were too primitive for most humans to understand. He wanted to bite her. Lick her. Take her under his body and trap her there...marking her in ways he had no business even thinking about.

She started to draw her knees up, and he quickly looked away, not trusting himself with the explicit view. Once he looked he would look his fill, and there’d end up being hell to pay. But from the corner of his eye, Eric saw her spreading her legs, revealing herself completely, and he couldn’t have kept his gaze from locking on to that intimate sight any more than he could have stopped sucking air into his lungs. Heat crawled up his spine, curling around the backs of his ears, where his pulse was roaring like a fucking jet engine.

Christ. The woman was either
trying to kill him or melt his brain into a useless lump of putty.

He tried to get some control over his ragged breathing, but it was impossible when he was staring at something so perfect and pretty. He had to choke back a primitive howl as he soaked in every lush, erotic detail. He wanted—
needed
—to feast on the tender perfection of her flesh until he was drenched in her, drowning in the blurring, liquid details, the data coming in too fast to separate, until lust was just a hazy, consuming cloud closing in around him, making it hard to breathe...to think.