Wild (17 page)

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Trak usually hung back until the guys had all paired up. As the pack alpha, it didn't seem fair that he have first choice of the women when they arrived. An alpha might be the one in charge, but he'd learned a long time ago that a good alpha never took advantage of his authority.

Trak still struggled with that one.

Unfortunately, Lawz was right. Trak was well aware he could be a total pain in the ass. Too aware of his own failings, he realized Evan and Drew had gone back to work at Growl and he was the only one left, which meant that whoever was the last woman, well … she was stuck with him.

When she stepped around the back of the car, he almost swallowed his tongue. She was tall and built, one absolutely stacked blonde with a killer smile and sexy gray eyes framed in thick, dark lashes. Right now, she looked a little bit lost, but that made sense. All her girlfriends had abandoned her and gone off with different guys. That thought made him smile. Luckily, she wasn't alone anymore.

“Hi,” she said, holding out her right hand. Her nails were painted a deep, dark red, and he had to catch himself to keep from taking her hand and kissing it as if she were royalty. “I'm Meg. Where are you going to take me?”

“Anywhere you want to go.” Oh, crap! Had he just said that out loud? He must have because she was laughing, a big, fun-loving laugh that had him smiling in return.

“Sounds wonderful,” she said, “but I doubt my fiancé would approve.”

“Well, damn.” Laughing—mostly at himself—he grabbed her bags. “You're the bride-to-be, so I guess that means I need to act like a gentleman when I walk you to your cabin. You're the one who booked the week, aren't you?”

“I am,” she said. “You must be Trak.”

He stopped, feeling like an idiot. “I'm sorry. Yes. I should have introduced myself. I'm Traker Jakes, and we talked a while back. I thought I recognized your voice. I hope you and your friends have a really enjoyable week with us.”

“It's so peaceful here,” she said. “I think we're all ready for a break. I can't imagine not having a terrific time.” She shook her head, and her expression was a bit bemused. “It's been a bit hectic, trying to get my work caught up so I could leave, planning a wedding. More stressful than I expected, so this trip is one I've really been looking forward to.”

“I can guarantee you'll have a wonderful time.” Trak took the tote bag she'd slung over her shoulder—it looked awfully heavy for her—and grabbed the big one out of the trunk. “I've been told there's magic here at Feral Passions,” he said. “All you need to do is trust your heart, follow your instincts, and let go of anything and everything that's not letting you relax.”

She laughed. He really liked her laugh. She didn't hold back at all. “It's that ‘letting go' thing I have trouble with.”

Trak just shook his head. “Don't we all. C'mon.” He glanced over his shoulder and said, “Once you're in your cabin and settled, I imagine you'll feel a hundred percent better.” Then he headed off to the left of the lodge with Meg following.

This was where the magic began. He'd had more than one guest tell him that stepping onto the trail to the cabin they'd be staying in was like walking into an enchanted forest. Sunlight filtered through the trees, but barely enough made it through the heavy canopy to lighten the shadows. Lush and green except for the occasional splash of red, there was little evidence of summer ending and fall creeping close.

“Those red leaves are so pretty.” Meg paused behind him, reaching out to touch one.

He stopped her just in time. “Pretty, but as Mom used to say, look with your eyes, not with your hands. That's poison oak. It can cause a miserable rash if you're sensitive to it.”

“Thank you.” She pulled her hand back and stayed to the middle of the trail, but his gentle warning made her think. Even here, where everything was peaceful and calm, where it was all about the comfort of the guest, there were risks.

Was that what she'd done? Let herself get sidetracked worrying about the risks of loving Zach? More worried about failure than excited about making a new life with him?

If that was the case, she was guilty of setting up their relationship to fail.

How had she come to that conclusion, that Zach wasn't worth the risk? Or was her real worry that she was the one who wasn't worth the risk? Either way, she was putting up barriers that wouldn't exist without her building them.

Damn. She was such an idiot.

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Trak paused at the top step of Meg's cabin and waited for her to join him. She'd paused where a break in the trees opened to a spectacular view of the rugged peaks of the Trinity Alps. She stood there, hands folded in front of her, obviously transfixed. That told him a lot about her—she appreciated the untamed and rustic nature of this wild country.

He hoped she'd have the same reaction to the cabin. He loved this part, showing their guests into the cabins he and his pack had built by hand. Each one was a work of art, furnished with the Shaker-style pieces he and his father and grandfather had built over the years.

Some of them featured Tuck's paintings of wolves. This one had a portrait of Brad and Cain, who were two of Tuck's favorite models, though Trak couldn't remember if that painting was still there or not. A few of the guests had asked to buy the paintings, so Tuck had quoted ridiculously high prices because he didn't want to sell them.

It hadn't worked. It appeared his art was worth the many thousands he'd asked.

Tuck was the only one who'd been surprised that anyone, especially their guests, put that kind of value on his talent.

Meg turned away from the view and walked up the steps to the door. Trak hoped she liked what she saw. Her opinion mattered to him, which was surprising. Usually he only cared if they were having a good time, but Meg was an attractive woman, and he liked what he'd seen of her in action with her friends. Caring and yet very organized. She struck him as a leader, the kind of woman who would make an excellent mate to an alpha like him.

Of course, there was that fiancé waiting in the wings.

But even if she'd been free, not promised to another man, Trak wasn't reacting to Meg the way Brad had explained his first meeting with Cherry had felt. Brad had known she was his—his and Cain's—and had set out that very first day to seduce her into loving them. Obviously it had worked or Trak wouldn't be shuffling through pack members to find guys to cover for his two wayward wolves and their new mate.

But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy Meg's company, couldn't make it his job to ensure that she had a good time. With that thought in mind, he opened the door and stepped back to let her enter first.

She stood in the entry with her hands clasped against her chest and merely gazed at the small cabin with its tiny kitchenette, large armoire, and king-sized bed. He had no idea what she thought, hoped she approved, that she'd like the way it looked. Was it too rustic? Not what she was expecting? Finally, he stepped around her and carried her bags inside.

In a hushed voice, she finally said, “This is absolutely stunning.”

She turned and smiled, and he actually felt the warmth of her pleasure. Now that was promising.

“I'm glad you like it. We've worked really hard to make each of the cabins as comfortable as we could. I'm going to leave you here to unpack, but don't be too long.”

“Thank you.” She walked over to the table and chairs that sat beneath a window in the tiny kitchen and checked out the small area. After a moment, she turned and smiled at him. She really was an extraordinarily attractive woman. “I don't even know what time it is,” she said. “Do I have time for a quick shower before dinner?”

“Not a problem. This is your vacation. We'll do our best to accommodate you in every way possible.”

He stepped out and quietly closed the door behind him. He was glad he'd paired up with Meg. He had a feeling she'd be a lot of fun without any hassles. He probably wasn't going to get laid this week, but there were other things to enjoy with a smart, funny, good-looking woman.

 

CHAPTER 3

Dar followed the tall, athletic-looking man who'd openly stared when she was stretching. Usually guys who focused on her ass when she was bent over in a stretch came across with a pervy vibe, but Lawz showed nothing but pure, honest, male appreciation. It was hard to find fault with that, especially when he had the look of a guy she'd really like appreciating her.

She followed him along a well-maintained trail leading away from the main lodge. It was only a short distance, but she felt as if she were walking into another world. Ferns grew thick along the trail; tall pines and evergreens hid the other cabins. They rounded a bushy fir tree, and there it was, a little log cabin with a front deck just made for sitting.

“Oh! Wow.” She stood there with a stupid grin on her face, breathing in the aromatic scent of cedar. The cabin had to be new to smell this fresh, but the natural landscaping helped it fit into the spot as if it had always been there.

Lawz paused at the bottom step and smiled at her. “The architect is the guy who originally came up with the idea for Feral Passions,” he said. “Brad's really talented, but this is definitely a homespun operation.”

“I love it.” She felt almost giddy now that she'd moved away from the car and had taken that short walk through the woods, especially after the long day of driving. There wasn't any Internet, she didn't have any bars on her phone, and the setting had her blood pressure falling and her stress levels dropping into the minus category.

Though she had to admit, the man had her hot and bothered.

“C'mon in and see the rest.”

He held the door for her, and Darian walked into what was the cutest little cabin she'd ever seen. Lawz followed and set her suitcase on a stand near a large oak armoire, her smaller bag on the bed. The furniture was all very simple—she thought it was a Shaker design, but did it really matter?

Not really. Not when she was so damned aware of the man waiting beside the door, standing there silently radiating pheromones. That had to be it, the reason she was so attuned to him, to the sound of his movements, the cadence of his breathing. His scent. She never really noticed a guy's scent, at least not unless he absolutely reeked of sweat, and there were more than enough of those hanging around the gym.

No, Lawz had a scent like nothing she'd ever experienced, an intoxicating mix of pine and lemon, of herbs she almost recognized but couldn't, but whatever it was, it was taking everything she had not to turn around and go back to him and just rub herself over his body like a cat in heat.

“I won't keep you, Dar. I'm on the dinner crew tonight, so I need to get back to the lodge, but come down when you're ready and let me fix a drink for you. We do a mean margarita here, if you like them.”

She turned, fully aware that she really didn't want him to leave, and wasn't that just the strangest thing? She never got like this around a man, but there was something about Lawz. He appealed to her. She meant to merely thank him for carrying her luggage, and she wasn't sure how it happened, but she moved and he moved, and they were suddenly in a clinch that had her body on fire and her breasts begging for attention.

“Holy shit,” he said. At least that's what she thought he said just before he dipped his head and absolutely captured her mouth. He took her forcefully; she immediately responded.

His mouth was on hers, his lips molding to hers, and she was with him every breath, every lick and touch and taste. He feasted on her mouth, dipped his head to nip at her throat, and she bared herself to him, inviting him to taste her.

Dar was tall, but he was so much taller, and he lifted her up against him, cupping her bottom in his big hands when she wrapped her legs around his waist. He ravaged her mouth, her throat, and then dipped his head and captured her nipple through the soft cotton of her cami top.

She hadn't worn a bra for the long trip, and the suction when he wrapped his lips around her nipple had it standing hard and erect within the wet circle of fabric. He worried first her right and then her left, nipping with his teeth, tugging the sensitive nub, taking her higher, farther, faster than any man had done before, touching nothing more than her breasts.

He bit down on her nipple and tugged, and the sweet pain shot like a bolt of lightning straight to her clit. She cried out and pressed herself against his abdomen, her inner muscles spasming and clenching, climaxing from nothing more than his mouth on her breasts.

Gasping for breath, she leaned her head against his chest. Her body still rippled with her release, and her hands trembled until, from absolutely nowhere and with no intelligent reason, she started giggling. Burying her face against the broad expanse of his chest, she laughed while tears flowed and Lawz just held her. Finally, when she was fully beyond embarrassment and well into utter humiliation, he tilted her chin up and forced her to meet his eyes.

She hiccupped. He kissed her. “That was fun,” he said. “Want to try it again?”

“Yes.” She sucked in a breath. Her lips were actually trembling. She wasn't a giggler or a trembler, thank you. “In a bed,” she said. “Preferably naked, with you as an equal participant and both of us with plenty of time. Not when you have to go cook dinner.”

“Agreed.” He let her feet slide slowly down his legs to the floor and held her while she got her balance.

She looped her arms over his shoulders and stared at him for a long moment. He stared right back at her without flinching. His eyes were dark, dark brown, but she saw flecks of gold in their depths. His nose was long and straight, his lower lip fuller than the upper, and she wanted him so badly it was all she could do not to drag him to the bed now.