Wolf from the Past: Salvation Pack, Book 4 (5 page)

“This is more than getting acquainted.” She wasn’t stupid. The bulge in the front of Gator’s jeans was a dead giveaway. “You want me.” It was time for her to be blunt too.

“Yes, I want you.” He kissed her cheek and then nuzzled her nose. “But I only want what you’re willing to give.”

Gator Rollins was the devil. He had to be. He tempted her so prettily, leading her toward the edge of a cliff. If she went over, she had only herself to blame. Of course, it didn’t help that she’d always wondered about him. When they were teenagers and older, he’d always caught her eye whenever he’d walked by. She’d felt drawn to him but had never acted on the impulse, instinctively knowing it would bring a wrath of trouble down on them both.

He grazed his lips over hers. His tongue traced the curve of her mouth. Her heart pounded and her entire lower body clenched. She ached for more.

“This isn’t a good idea.”

“Maybe not.” He nibbled her bottom lip. “I’ll stop if you really want me to, but I’d rather not. You taste so good.” He flicked his tongue over the seam of her mouth and Sylvie was lost.

She parted her lips and invited him in. The rest of the world dropped away when his tongue met hers. She moaned and deepened the kiss. She’d been kissed before, but never like this. Gator slanted his head and consumed her like he was a starving man and she was food.

Every female hormone inside her surged to life. Her pussy began to throb. Without conscious thought, she leaned into his chest and rubbed her straining nipples against it. Even through the barriers of her bra and blouse, she could feel his heat.

The hard length of his arousal pressed against her stomach, a potent reminder of his masculinity.

Arousal burst into flames, scorching her entire body. Her wolf howled and began to roll around inside her as though wanting his scent all over her. She dug her fingers into his biceps as she leaned into the kiss.

It went on and on. The scent of his arousal was an aphrodisiac, making her even wilder. He caught her face in his hands and tilted it back. She went up on her toes to get closer. She wanted more and he gave it.

Their tongues dueled, their breaths mingled and she reveled in the power of the connection between them. How long their kiss lasted, she didn’t know. It might have gone on forever if he hadn’t suddenly pulled away.

Sylvie was left panting for air as Gator bent over, breathing heavily. “Gator?” Why had he stopped?

He raised his head and growled. His features briefly contorted before he brought his wolf back under control. Her arousal quickly turned to fear. What was she doing?

She knew the moment he scented the change in her. He swore and dragged his fingers through his hair, pulling at the ends. The muscles in his arms bulged and his chest rose and fell.

“Sylvie—” he began.

“No.” She cut him off before he could spout platitudes or make excuses. “That can’t happen again.” It was time for her to take back control of the situation. “I’m here for Armand, and that’s all.”

He straightened and seemed bigger and taller than only moments before. His scowl deepened and he growled again. “It can and will happen again.” He shook himself. “I didn’t mean to scare you,
chère
. Didn’t mean to let things go this far this fast.”

“It wasn’t all you.” She took responsibility for her own actions, no matter how ill-advised they were. “But it can’t be repeated.” She couldn’t think when Gator was touching her. He stole her ability to reason.

Her wolf whined, not liking this turn of events. Her wolf had always hated Andre and wanted to get closer to Gator. Much closer. The air in the room seemed to disappear.

She couldn’t let this happen again, not twice in one day and both times in front of this man. There was more than enough air. She wasn’t suffocating, no matter how much it might feel like it. Sylvie closed her eyes and pulled in one deep breath and then another. She did it again and again until she was calm.

When she opened her eyes again, Gator was standing next to her, his expression filled with concern.

Realization struck her like a lightning bolt. She wanted Gator. Really wanted him. She already had feelings for him. And that was dangerous.

He lifted his hand as though he was going to touch her face and then dropped it back by his side. “I won’t rush you, but we’re not done. Not by a long shot.”

Sylvie thought he might say more, but he stalked away, the muscles in his back flexing with each step he took. He opened the door and quietly closed it behind him.

She looked out the window and watched him shift. His jaw lengthened and his limbs cracked and reformed. Fur replaced his smooth skin. The man was gone, and in his place was a powerful black wolf. He glanced back at her, his blue eyes gleaming. Then he tilted back his head and howled.

Sylvie shivered. He sounded lonely. She could relate to that. She’d felt alone for so many years, even when she’d still been part of the Louisiana Pack she’d been isolated.

She placed her hand on the pane of glass and watched as he prowled from her sight.

Chapter Five

Gator raced through the woods, desperately trying to outrun his confusion and the demons from his past. Both were riding him hard. He’d come so close to dragging Sylvie into his arms. And if that had happened, there’s no telling how either of them would have reacted. Gator wanted to believe he’d stop if she protested, but he was too on edge to trust himself. And Sylvie wasn’t anywhere ready to take their relationship to the next stage.

No matter what she said, the connection was there between them. Neither of them could deny it. Her actions spoke much louder than her words. She trusted him on some level or she never would have allowed him to kiss her.

Maybe a step back wasn’t such a bad thing. They’d gotten hot and heavy so fast, but that didn’t seem to matter to him or his wolf.

He pulled up short when he arrived at the edge of a small stream. The water was lower this time of year than it was in the spring. He allowed the change to wash over him, embracing his human form. His wolf receded, leaving him standing naked and, damn it, still aroused.

He could still feel the press of her breasts against his chest, taste her sweet lips and smell her arousal. She could lie to herself, but her scent told the truth. She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Gator raked his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. Time. He had to curb his natural impatience and allow her to get used to him.

He’d have to court her.

For her, he’d dig deep and find the patience. She was worth the effort. They needed to spend time together. He could cook for her, maybe show her the surrounding woods. He’d love to take her running over the pack land and show her just how incredible it was.

He had a feeling she hadn’t received much pampering in her life. Her father had been an overbearing jerk and her mate a sadistic asshole. Was it any wonder she was wary of men? Thankfully, she loved her brother and knew not all men were cruel beasts.

He crouched by the water and let his fingers dangle in its path. The cool liquid flowed over his skin. He wondered if Sylvie had been wet for him. He licked his lips and could still taster her, warm and inviting.

Not helping
. He groaned and stood.

He took several long breaths and pulled much needed fresh air into his lungs. All around him, the forest was alive with life. It was a good place. A safe one. Or at least it would be once they’d taken care of the problems with their former pack.

Gator shifted once again, reveling in the feeling of his limbs reforming, his shape changing. He was strong as a man but even more so as a wolf. Heavy jaw, sharp teeth and dense muscles all made him the ultimate fighting machine.

But inside both wolf and man was a heart that had always felt the lack of a mate, and not just any woman, but Sylvie.

He began to run once more. He knew the surrounding woods well and ran at full speed, jumping over downed trees and swerving around rocks.

Being friends with Armand, he’d always been aware of his friend’s older sister. Remy LaForge hadn’t approved of Armand’s friendship with him, so the two of them had usually met away from the rest of the pack. As a result, he’d rarely spent any time in Sylvie’s company. She was a beautiful woman, one who’d drawn his eye every time he’d seen her. But she was also his friend’s sister and therefore off limits.

He still remembered the night everything had changed. He growled low in his throat but kept running.

It was the night her father had announced her upcoming mating to Andre Dubois. The rest of the pack had been celebrating while he’d been watching her. She’d looked so miserable, not at all like a woman anticipating mating with the man she loved or at least wanted.

She’d wandered to the edges of the crowd and he’d followed. It still made his heart ache to picture her standing under the stars with tears trickling down her face. She’d looked so alone that he’d considered going to her. He’d had some vague idea of comforting her. His wolf had almost gone crazy wanting to get closer.

In the end, he’d hesitated too long. Her father had found her and dragged her back to the sham of a celebration.

After that, Gator had manufactured reasons for them to run into one another, but he’d sensed nothing but fear from her.

He slowed down until he came to a complete stop beneath a large oak tree. She’d been afraid of him. Now he wondered if her fear had been for him and not of him. Or maybe it had been a bit of both.

Sylvie was a protector by nature. He understood now why she’d mated with Andre Dubois even though it was obvious she didn’t like the man. She’d been protecting her younger brother.

Gator began to move once again, circling around to head back to the house. He’d left Sylvie alone. Yes, Armand and the others were nearby, but she’d come here to forge a relationship with her brother, to try to reclaim her past, and they’d all left her alone.

Heart pounding, he picked up speed.

That certainly wasn’t going to encourage her to stay. Not if she felt like an outcast, a burden.

What if she’d decided to leave because she didn’t feel welcome?

He’d go after her. No matter how far she ran or where she went, he’d find her. And then he’d spend the rest of his days convincing her they were meant to be together.

The idea solidified inside him, locking into place like the slamming of a bank-vault door. Sylvie belonged to him and he belonged to her.

He’d been a coward all those years ago, not wanting to admit Sylvie was his mate. He hadn’t trusted his instincts and had paid the ultimate price when she’d mated another and died. And even if she hadn’t died in truth, he’d thought she had, and the emptiness inside him had almost swallowed him whole.

He was older now and a whole lot wiser.

He had a second chance and wasn’t about to screw it up.

Sylvie wasn’t sure how long she stood staring out the window before she finally made herself turn away. She wandered into the living room. It was a comfortable room, a masculine one with feminine touches.

She ran her fingers over the back of the leather sofa and touched several of the throw pillows. She wondered which woman had chosen them.

Jealousy ate at her, making her feel small and petty. They had what she had always wanted—a family and a home. Both had always eluded her. What she’d had with Andre had been hell on earth. And her years growing up hadn’t been much better.

She laid her hand on her stomach and then touched her face. So many scars, inside and out.

Sylvie sat in one of the large chairs and tried to get comfortable. She couldn’t settle and tried another. A sad laugh escaped her. She felt a little bit like Goldilocks. None of the chairs felt right.

She stood and paced the floor. Maybe she should leave? Armand hadn’t seemed too keen on staying to talk with her. Of course, she’d given him quite a shock and she knew he needed time to process everything. But couldn’t he have done that here with her?

Alone. She’d felt alone her entire life. She’d always felt out of step. Different.

Her steps slowed and she finally came to a stop. The only time she hadn’t felt alone was when Gator had held her in his arms.

She swallowed heavily and swayed, feeling slightly faint. That wasn’t good. Not at all. It had taken her a long time to come to terms with her past, push back her fears and cobble together a life. She couldn’t jeopardize that for some man, no matter how sexy she found him.

“I’ve gone crazy,” she muttered. That was the only explanation she could come up with for her unusual behavior. She never noticed men. Never. But Gator got under her skin, made her tingle in places she’d never tingled, and all without trying. He had only to be in the same room with her and her body responded to him.

She had to go, had to get away from here. She’d call Armand later and see if he wanted to talk.

Sylvie strode to the front door and yanked it opened. There was no one around when she stepped out onto the deck. It was so quiet and beautiful here. So different from where she’d grown up. She liked that.

Even when it was hot like it was today, the scent of pine and earth and flowers was thick and inviting. The light breeze was warm without being oppressive. It cooled her heated flesh, refreshing her. The mountains in the distance, so ancient and enduring, soothed her soul. She could live here.

Another reason she should leave. They’d all played lip service to wanting her to stay, but when it came down to it, they’d left her alone.

She shook off the self-pity and heading down the path. She’d made first contact with her brother and that had been her intention all along. In that, she had succeeded.

She meant to head straight to her car but got sidetracked when two rabbits jumped out onto the path in front of her. She wasn’t sure who was more startled—her or them. She hadn’t smelled them at all and they certainly hadn’t scented her.

One of them turned and ran straight into the other before they both hopped off. Their antics made her laugh.

“It’s nice to hear you laugh.”

Sylvie rounded to find Armand behind her. Now that she was paying attention, she could easily scent him. She’d gotten slack living in the city surrounded by humans. Anyone could have snuck up on her.

“You’re back.” She tried to keep the hurt from her voice but knew she’d been unsuccessful when he frowned.

“Yeah.” He tilted his head to one side. “Where were you going?”

Deciding to be totally honest, she answered him. “Home.”

His dark brown eyes, a mirror image of her own, widened slightly before narrowing. “You were leaving?” he accused.

“Yes.” She shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “I didn’t exactly feel welcome when everyone left. I felt like I was in the way.” She softened her next words. No matter how hurt she felt, this was Armand, the brother she loved. “I was going to call.”

“Shit.” Armand dragged his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t handle things as well as I should.” The scars on his face seemed to grow even whiter. “But, Sylvie, I thought you dead all these years. It’s hard to come to grips with the fact you’re alive and understand why you didn’t contact me.”

She’d done the one thing she’d never wanted to do. She’d hurt Armand. “I couldn’t.” She’d already explained why and didn’t know what else to add to it. Nothing she could say would make him hurt any less. “I’m sorry.”

He reached out his hand to her and she took it. “I know you are.” He squeezed her fingers. “I am too.”

Armand took a deep breath and slowly released it. His shoulders relaxed and some of the tension drained out of him. “I’d like you to stay. Please,” he added. “Have dinner and spend the night. I really want you to get to know Anny.”

Sylvie nibbled on her bottom lip. She really wanted to stay but she worried about Gator and the others, especially Gator. Screw it. She squared her shoulders and took yet another leap of faith. “I’d like that.”

She wanted to get to know her brother again, to find out how he and Anny had met. She also wanted to spend time with her cousins and the others.
Especially Gator
, a little voice in the back of her head mocked.

As though he were reading her thoughts, Armand added, “Gator will probably whip up a feast in celebration.”

She still couldn’t get over the fact that Gator cooked. Willingly. That was so unlike all the other male werewolves she’d known. But then again, Gator was very different, always had been.

The more she thought about it, she realized the rest of them were also different. Jacque, Louis, Armand, Cole and Gator had never really fit into the pack they’d been born into. Like her, they’d felt like outsiders.

Maybe they had more in common with her than she’d thought.

“Come back to the house with me. We’ll have something cool to drink, dig up a few cookies and sit out on the porch and talk.”

Sylvie felt her heart expand and some of the emptiness inside her began to dissipate. “I’d like that.” They walked hand in hand back to the porch. It reminded her of when they were small children, walking in the woods together. They’d held hands back then too. Or at least they had until their father had seen them and accused her of trying to turn Armand into a weak pup. They’d both received a beating.

Her brother had stopped holding her hand after that.

“Just like old times, isn’t it?”

She shot him a gaze and knew he was thinking the same thing she was. “We can’t go back.” She wished she could go back and change so many things.

“No, we can’t.” He squeezed her hand. “But we can go forward.”

“Forward,” she repeated, savoring the word. It implied a future. “I’d like that.”

They reached the porch and he motioned her to one of the several Adirondack chairs. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get some lemonade.” He gave her a soft smile. “If I remember correctly, it was your favorite.”

Her chest ached but it felt good. “It still is.”

“Be right back.”

Armand went inside and she inspected the large, comfortable wooden chairs. They were all beautifully made and painted different colors, which surprised her. She expected the men would have left them plain. The women probably had something to do with the bright colors. The women here seemed to have a lot of say in everything. It gave her hope that this pack was truly different.

She’d just settled into a chair painted a fire-engine red when a motion off to the left caught her attention. She swiveled her head toward it, only to find Gator watching her. How much had he heard? Not that it mattered.

“I’m glad you’re staying for dinner.”

That answered that question. Obviously, he’d heard pretty much everything. Had he been watching her all along? Would he have let her leave?

In spite of the shade from the porch, she felt overheated. He’d donned his jeans once again but was still barefoot and bare-chested. She fanned herself with her hand before she thought better of it.

“There’s no need to be afraid, Sylvie. I’d never do anything to hurt you.” Gator moved closer, his movements smooth and easy.

She knew he meant it, but she also knew he could hurt her unintentionally. Not physically, but emotionally. Even after all these years and all the work she’d done to help herself, she was still afraid much of the time and certainly wasn’t ready for any kind of relationship.