Treeland Pack Tales 3: A Trace of Ivy (12 page)

He teased the seam of her lips, and she parted for him. He
slid his tongue inside, tasting, tangling, and claiming. Her closeness fueled
the hunger to mate with her and caused his cock to throb with its own pulse. At
the same time, he absorbed every nuance of her response on a primal level,
wanting only to worship her body and soul, however she’d let him.

Apples, cinnamon, and sweet surrender swirled with his
bonding scent, singing a siren’s invitation to plunder. Desperate to have some
part of him inside her, he captured her, holding her close with a palm cupping
her nape, and thrust his tongue more possessively into the supple, wet silk of
her mouth.

She clutched his shoulders and made needy noises that drove
him even wilder.

Another male’s scent caused his claws to emerge before he
considered details like their exposed location and the bright light of day. He
controlled his wolf with a mighty effort, tucking Ivy behind him.

Ben faced him squarely and spoke in an even, calm tone. “No
threat from me, GQ. I know she’s your lady. You might want to move the mating
party somewhere more private.”

Chet bristled, instantly ready to fight. He barely
recognized himself. It was as if his outer shell of discipline, intelligence,
and manners had been sandpapered off, leaving him with nothing but a thin layer
of control. After a few seconds of slow breathing and scanning the busy parking
lot next door, he took Ben’s words on board. Solid advice.

“You better drive.” He tossed Ben his keys.

“Sure.” Ben led the way back to the SUV.

Tucked snuggly against his side, Ivy stretched close to his
ear and whispered, “How are you going to get through tonight if you want to
tear into your friends?”

Damn good question. Chet held the back door open for Ivy and
then climbed in with her.

She batted away his hands when he tried to fasten her seat
belt.

“I can do it.” She softened the words with a small smile
that completely sapped him out.

After he yanked on his safety strap, he slid an arm behind
her head. She leaned into him, and her slight body shivered. He tried to
shelter her with his body.

“I’m not cold.” She patted his thigh.

He was acting like an overprotective maniac, but he couldn’t
seem to stop. “You have to keep me in line.”

Her eyes flickered over his face. She quirked an elegant
eyebrow in clear doubt. “Me?”

“Yes, promise me you will. I won’t hurt you, no matter what.
You’re the only one who can make me back off without serious bloodshed.”

Ivy’s already pale complexion blanched lighter, and her
fingernails dug crescents into his leg. “I will.”

The simple words carried the full force for her quiet
determination, easing his mind. He sank back into the seat, lowering his
tension level to DEFCON three. She was a brave Beta to take on his sorry hide.
He knew he could depend on her to keep him from hurting innocents or the
neighbors. How in the hell had he gotten so lucky?

Ben brought the vehicle to a stop by the elevator entrance
in the parking garage. He braced an elbow on the passenger’s seatback and craned
his neck. “You want me to park first or let you out here?”

A snarl curled Chet’s lip.

Ivy patted him reassuringly while she spoke to Ben. “We’ll
get out here. Would it be possible for you to pick up the clothes at Newman and
Porter?”

The other enforcer eyed Chet cautiously. “Let me check with
Sin, so I’m sure the two of you are covered. Don’t worry. I’ll make it happen.”

“Thank you.” She undid her seat belt and nudged Chet. “Time
to go, my dangerous dandy.”

She dared tease a newly bonded male? The female had no
self-preservation instinct. Then he recalled how completely into her he was.
Bonding was a special kind of insanity. She could gut him and leave him
bleeding on the floor, and he’d die hoping for a kiss or even a kind word. A
no-doubt sappy grin tugged the corner of his mouth. He covered her back and
shadowed her into the waiting elevator.

Before the doors closed, he’d pulled her tight against his
straining body and captured her lips in another searing kiss.

IVY SQUIRMED IN his iron hold. Chet hadn’t seemed to hear
the elevator ding or noticed the doors opening or the big male watching them.
Interrupting the best kiss of her life seemed criminal, but she’d promised to
keep him in line. She tugged on his hair. When he released her mouth, she drew
in a much-needed breath. “We’re here, and we have an audience.”

He tucked her behind him with a snarl.

“Ben asked me to cover for him. I’m Sin.” The large male
guarding the door spoke to her, carefully avoiding looking directly at Chet.

Instinctively she stroked her dangerous male’s bunched arm.
“I’m fairly sure he’s a friend.” She kept soothing him with gentle strokes
while she angled her head to speak to Sin. “This isn’t personal. Chet seems to
have undergone a temporary personality transplant.”

Sin stayed prudently out of Chet’s reach. “Bonding will do
that to a male. The newly mated tend to be high on aggression and possession
while they run a few quarts low on charm and discrimination. Don’t worry about
it. He’ll be more himself after…uh, later.”

Nice how everyone
seems to know more about what’s happening than me
. Heat raced to her
cheeks. “Would you move away from the entrance, please?”

The male edged out of their path. “Are you sure you don’t
need help?”

“Thanks anyway. It’s better if you keep your distance. He
doesn’t like to be crowded.” Ivy found a smile for Sin as she led a baleful
Chet past him into the apartment.

The second the lock clicked behind them, shutting out the
threat of another male, Chet’s tension level dropped significantly.

He rotated her until she faced him, cupped her shoulders,
and scowled fiercely. “Tell me how old you are.”

“Twenty-three.” Bewildered by his question, she asked,
“Why?”

He groaned. “Even before I’d bonded, you smell so damn sweet
I was worried about exposing you to other males. Twenty-three is a tad young
for sexual maturity, but possible. I’m almost certain you will come into your
first heat this fall. The scent of a female in need is irresistible to unmated
males. The fragrance of an unmated Beta is pure aphrodisiac. Maybe we should
forget about the gathering.”

“I’ll be twenty-four in the fall, and that’s not for months.
By going to the pack meeting, at least my first introduction to the pack won’t
happen when I’m in heat, right?” She crossed her arms to hide a fresh bout of
trembling.

“Good point. Tonight you have to keep me on a short leash.”
Chet looked as worried as she felt, and that made her all the more nervous.

Totally unfair that she couldn’t shift, but in the autumn
she would turn into irresistible werewolf bait with a ballistic missile for a
boyfriend. A shudder rolled through her. “How do I prevent this heat business
from happening?”

A harsh laugh erupted from his throat. “You don’t. Even
without heat, you’re a desirable female. There are ten males for every unmated
bitch. The only thing that will keep a pack of horny dogs from trying to hump
you is if you’re wearing another male’s bond mark.”

Doubts must’ve painted her face.

“You don’t need to worry, sweet torment. I would never force
sex on you. I would die to keep you safe.”

Maybe she was crazy, but she believed him. She smoothed his
broad chest, letting his solid warmth ground her. “I know you would. What
happens to you if you don’t mark me?”

“I follow you around, praying you’ll change your mind, until
you send me away.”

“If I tell you to leave, you’ll go?” Shock tinged her
question.

“Yeah.”

“Leaving me would kill you.” She’d guessed, but his stony
expression seemed to confirm it.

“Only my spirit. The werewolf’s body is very durable. When a
bonded male is rejected by his mate, he becomes one of the walking dead.”

Ivy wouldn’t let that happen to Chet. He’d rescued her, fed
her, and cuddled her when she was a shaky wreck. She wasn’t leaving this
honorable male in a living hell of constant misery because of a biologic
phenomenon she’d caused. Besides, she craved his touch.

I can handle intimacy.
Maybe. What would brave Kat do? Or patient Tess? They sure as hell wouldn’t let
their mate suffer
. Her hands balled into fists of determination. “That’s
not happening. I’m not rejecting you. So you just have to mark me.”

His hard chest tightened. She uncoiled her fingers and
petted the thick pads of his heavy pecs. The even rhythm of his heartbeat
against her palm slowed to match hers, reassuring her as she waited for him to
agree.

When the silence grew, she tried again. “How exactly does
marking happen?”

“Sex.” His voice had deepened into a rasping grate of total
hunger.

She stiffened, waiting for fear to freeze her. After a few
seconds when nothing more than a tiny shiver of anticipation happened, she
rolled her shoulders to loosen the tension.

“Yeah, that’s what I expected.” He angled his magnificent
jaw away from her.

“Just go slow. I’ll be fine.”

Chet shook his head. “I cannot stand to cause you pain.” His
big hands held her face carefully, keeping her attention on him. “I’m all in
when it comes to you. Hurting you would rip me apart.”

“You need to protect me more than you need to mark me—more
than you need to live?”

He shrugged, which was as much confirmation as an actual
agreement. Damn noble fool.

She wasn’t sure if she was flattered or not. The whole
bonding thing seemed to be more biological imperative than romance.
Nevertheless, she wasn’t terrified of Chet, and she could be just as noble as
the next wolfie. “I’m not that easy to break. The rogues tried hard enough, and
I hated them. I want to do this. I want to help you.”

“Any sign of pain from you will shut me down.” He shrugged
again. “I could try.”

“Don’t bowl me over with sweet talk.”

“I literally cannot bear to injure you.”

She reminded herself Chet’s proud spirit was on the line,
willed away the urge to tremble at his intensity, and spoke lightly, “Then
don’t hurt me.”

“You’re going to be the death of me.” He dropped his arms
and whirled away from her.

“When I lay in that ravine battered and half dead, you
crawled down the embankment and rescued me. Now you need me every bit as much
as I need you.” Chet didn’t face her, but he halted. She swallowed and kept talking.
“I don’t know much about being werewolf, but I do know you and I have a chance
at something special.”

His wide shoulders were bunched up by his ears, but she was
sure he heard her, so she continued. “What was the point of rescuing me, if you
walk away the first time we run into a little problem?”

Chet spun back to face her. His eyes were utterly black—with
passion or rage? She couldn’t tell. But his delicious scent rolled off him in
waves, giving her hope.

“Little problem?” Every muscle in his body seemed to have
turned to steel. He closed the gap between them, surrounding her. He was so
near his heat warmed her, and each word he spoke ruffled her hair. “There’s
nothing little involved.”

The massive erection pressing against her belly emphasized
his point.

Oh my God, he’d been gulp inducing last night, and he’d
grown. How was that even possible? “Perhaps if you go slow…”

“If slow helps, I’m your inchworm.”

A laugh squeaked from her mouth. “You’re not an inch
anything—a foot maybe.”

His lips parted in a feral grin. “Impressed?”

“Yes.” She wasn’t altogether sure impressive was a good
thing, but she didn’t tell him about her misgivings.

“We have less than an hour before our friends are pounding
on the door with your new wardrobe. Since we want to go slow”—he tugged her
hoodie, and she obliged him by raising her arms while he pulled the top off
over her head—“we have no time to waste. I need to taste you.”

The look on his face told her that he wasn’t referring to
her mouth. Thoughts of his surprisingly soft mustache brushing her private
parts made heat scorch her cheeks. Her top sailed to land somewhere behind her
while she was still processing his last sentence. Oh my God, she was still
dirty, and she didn’t know if there was enough soap and hot water to clean her,
but she had to try. “I need a shower first.”

“Excellent plan. Me too.” Wolfish was the only word that fit
his expression.

Strangely his frank lust reassured her. The attraction
sizzling between them was real, and she held on to that bit of surety, using it
to bolster her courage. He wouldn’t hurt her, at least not deliberately, she
was sure of that much. She’d chosen this path and she wasn’t wimping out and
letting him down—not now, not ever.

Chet crouched in front of her, slid off her boots, and then
nuzzled her sex. She tugged on his hair to make him stop. The beast in her
belly stretched and rumbled with anticipation. A languorous tenderness spread
through her, picking up speed and irrevocably changing desire into something
far more complicated.

At her silent request, he pulled his nose from between her
legs and stood. “I’m not stopping because you smell anything but delicious, but
because the pull on my scalp told me you’re not ready. I want to lick every
inch of you. But I want you to be comfortable even more. Besides, tasting is
more fun when you’re naked.”

When she’d tugged him, he’d stopped sniffing her instantly.
Earning him even more of her trust. He might mangle any male who got too close,
but she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. His rumbled promise to go slow and the
sparks of passion in his dark eyes gave her extra reassurance.

He returned to stripping her efficiently. Soon the rest of
her clothing lay scattered behind them in the entry. She stood before him
utterly bare.