Black Mesa Wolves Complete Series Boxset Bks 1-7 Page 11

  His brothers had known instantly. They'd actually been great listeners as he vented a little about his apparent misstep, without mentioning specifics, of course. Rafe did not kiss and tell, not even with the wolves with whom he otherwise was the most candid. Despite not having the greatest track record with women either, both Caleb and Tate had give him solid advice: let her go for the moment so she could figure things out on her own.

  Well. Now it was less than three days later, and waiting had made him as restless as a caged...wolf. He needed to handle this situation. Besides, he and Sara would be back on patrol together tomorrow. Any tension affecting their work was unacceptable.

  His wolf growled again and paced in his mind before curling into an annoyed ball.

  “She's been avoiding me,” he finally forced out. “No calls, no texts, and I haven't seen her around the den at all. I thought about asking Lily but, you know. She'd probably kill me for being an idiot with her bff,” he ended ruefully. Lily adored her brothers with unshakeable love, but when it came to them merely being guys, she was a little less forgiving.

  Caleb shook his head. “You might have totally screwed it up.” Typical straight-talking Caleb. “I don't know what you did and I don't really want to know, but Sara's pretty cool. She wouldn't be giving you the cold shoulder if you didn't screw it up somehow.”

  “Thanks,” Rafe said drily. “Any words of wisdom from you?” He directed that toward Tate's dark head, which had flopped back onto the mat.

  Tate paused before he said, “Just keep going slow with her. Don't push her or rush her. She's still trying to understand what you want. Remember Sara's really independent. You need to give her time to mellow into the idea of having you as a mate.”

  Rafe exhaled slowly. That was part of the problem. It seemed going slow had freaked her out. She'd picked up on something that made her run. Clearly, he was out of practice.

  “That doesn't seem to be working well so far.”

  Caleb sighed in exaggerated botheration. Never one to mince words and always marching straight to the heart of the matter, for good or bad, he had no patience for, well, patience.

  “Then tell her she's your mate already. Throw her over your shoulder and drag her off to your man cave. You're going to make one lame-ass alpha if you can't even bring your woman to heel.”

  Caleb's sly look bracketed his fighting words, and Rafe laughed it off despite his wolf's muffled but clear warning growl, like that of an irritated older wolf to an annoying pup.

  Rafe looked from one brother to the other. On their range of life views, Caleb always supported the brash, offensive move. Tate preferred the quiet, gentle approach. As usual, Rafe fell somewhere in between.

  Fine. He would go slow with her. After he tracked her down right now. He had to try to get that gorgeous rosy blush to cover her face and neck again. Fool or not, he needed to be certain he could still arouse the sweet vixen in her the way she aroused him.

  His wolf sent him an image of Sara, satisfied and practically glowing from his touch. With that inspiring picture, he went off in search of her.

  7

  Each time Sara went for a run around the den property, it emptied the clutter in her head and heart in the most satisfying manner. Everything inside her loosened up and clarified at the same time. Right now, she felt at one with the world as she did her cool down walk back to the den's shower facilities, which were open to any pack member at any time.

  Rafe lingered around the edges of her mind. Dammit. She'd had sex with him in the hot springs! Her patrol mate, the son of the Alpha, the one man whose touch it seemed she craved more desperately than she'd thought she could. And now that he made clear his desire for her, what did she do? Run away.

  Thoughts of him continued to haunt her. His laugh, which he shared infrequently yet wholeheartedly when he finally relaxed enough to do so. The unruffled expression he usually wore, which was livened considerably by the slow burn in his eyes when he looked at her. His talented hands, touching and stroking her body to the point of pliant desire to do anything he asked. And the rough timbre of his voice when he told her she was going to come for him, no exception.

  A light shiver danced along her spine at the memory.

  If she were to be fully honest with herself, she'd thought about him off and on for the last year. Getting touched by other men in the meantime had eased the physical cravings. She had no regrets about that. But Rafe.... She shivered again. He settled her in all ways. She trusted him implicitly, and that made all the difference.

  Then again, proving herself would make all the difference as well. On her own terms. If she didn't do this, on her own, she'd never feel really good about herself. She'd never feel truly grown up.

  Her wolf murmured in her mind. Sara saw image fragments of a cowardly wolf slinking off rather than facing the enemy. Not, of course, that Rafe was the enemy. But the point was clear. If she wanted to prove herself in the eyes of the Pack, she had to face the one wolf she'd been hiding from since she'd fled the hot springs a few days ago. She had to find him, tell him thanks but no thanks, and move on with her goals. Exactly, she decided. This was the Sara she needed to be.

  Head held a little higher, confidence in her step, she rounded the back corner of the huge house. The peace vanished in an instant when she ran smack into Rafe. Her stupid pulse galloped madly at the sight of him. Those brilliant blue eyes gazed at her with his trademark calm. His dark gold hair begged her fingers to run themselves through it and muss it up. His hands were thrust into his jeans pockets, in what seemed to be an awkwardly casual pose. An instant replay of the incredible orgasm this man had given her just days ago flowed through her again like a slow, hot wave. She felt color rising into her cheeks and damned her uncontrollable physical responses to him.

  “Hi,” he said.

  Just the word, low and rolling of his tongue like melted sugar sweetened with honey, hardened her nipples and made a shambles of her thought process. The happy wolf rolling in ecstasy in her mind didn't help matters.

  “Ah...hi.” Why did being around him make her sound simple-minded?

  He waited. She took in the broad chest spreading out his t-shirt, the hard muscles nicely filling his jeans, the sharp plane of his cheeks, the lips that had kissed her senseless. Her knees felt slightly weak. Warmth flooded between her thighs and her clit tightened.

  Holy crap. She had to get this out, say it well, and do it fast.

  “Rafe.” She took a deep breath. The mid-morning smells of pine forest, her own post-run tang, and the intoxicating scent of the male wolf standing mere feet away suffused her senses. “I've been avoiding you.”

  He raised one eyebrow and nodded his head in a brief dip. But he said nothing, leaving it up to her to fill in the blank space between them.

  Her heart beat in an erratic rhythm. She took another breath to center herself and plunged on.

  “I really enjoyed what happened in the hot springs.” Wow. That was stellar. “I mean, it felt great. It was great. It was hot.”

  Rafe kept looking at her. His expression still gave nothing away, but Sara thought she could see a darkening in his eyes. She didn't blame him if he was getting irritated by her bumbling attempt to speak her truth. She was irritated with herself.

  She shoved a hand through her hair, letting her fingers scrape over her head in a mini-massage. “Look. Rafe, I'm really attracted to you.” Cue flaming cheeks. “But I can't do it again.”

  He finally spoke. “And why would that be, Sara?”

  She detected an edge in his usually calm voice. When she answered, her own shook just a little bit.

  “Because I need something I can't get from you.” Her own blunt honesty startled her. Rafe still just stood there, looking at her. His expression now granite hard, he waited. Swallowing, she followed the leading edge of her admission. “Rafe. You're son of the Alpha, in line to be alpha yourself one day. I'm a good Guardian for the Pack”—pride lifted her words—“but I have to prove myself
in a way you never did. And I really want to.”

  She heard the longing in her own voice and blinked back a sudden prickling at her eyelids. A breeze rustled the grasses just starting to peek out from the ground and lifted strands of her hair to tickle at her face. “I'm finally ready to prove myself really worthy of this pack, and— ”

  “What are you talking about?” The words erupted from the golden wolf in front of her with a force that jerked her head back a little. His face darkened with emotion, although she wasn't sure exactly what emotion it was. “Sara, you are more than worthy of this pack. You're a Guardian!”

  Sara's wolf sat up with the same startled attention in her mind at this abruptly spirited Rafe.

  “You are, and always have been, an asset to the Black Mesa Wolf Pack.” Rafe's fierce voice sliced through the air with adamant conviction. “You're one of the most confident wolves, one of the most confident women, I've ever known. How in the hell can you doubt yourself?

  Mouth hanging open, hands dangling nerveless at her sides from surprise, Sara still couldn't answer. Even if she'd been able to form articulate words, Rafe wasn't done yet.

  “I believe in you, Sara. So does the Alpha. Why else do you think he put us on patrol together? Why else do you think I'd trust you with my life? Because you're very good at what you do. And you care about every member of this pack.” His eyes had definitely darkened, along with his tone. “You are exuberant, playful, fun-loving—”

  “That's the problem!” Her words sprang from a well of personal criticism she hadn't realized ran quite so deep. “I'm the good time girl. I laugh, I have fun, I make everyone feel better about themselves. But it hasn't helped me get more respect from the Pack.”

  Now his expression radiated incredulity.

  “Sara, of course you're respected. You help protect this pack, and you wouldn't be able to do that if no one took you seriously.”

  “But most of them don't.” Sara's voice began rising. “Because all I've shown is that fun side, that party girl side.”

  Rafe barked out a short laugh. “You are hardly a party girl, Sara!” He swiped at his face with his hand as if brushing away cobwebs, then shook his head. The sun glinted off his hair. “You can't be serious about this.”

  “I am. I want to prove what I'm capable of, what I'm really capable of. That's why....” She struggled for the right words in the face of his expression that dared her to keep going with what he clearly saw as ludicrous thinking on her part. Her voice dropped to just above a pained whisper. “That's why I ran away the other night.”

  “Explain.” She blinked at the hard tone. It was his most alpha-like voice, the one she'd sometimes heard him use with other wolves who were not pulling their weight. He'd never used it with her before.

  She forced her arms back to life and reached out a tentative hand toward him. When he didn't move, she let her fingers rest on his upper arm, now tightly crossed over his chest. The prickling behind her lids moved into her throat, making her words thick as they left her mouth.

  “I haven't felt that way since we were together before. When you touched me in the hot springs, I thought I was being shot to the moon and back.” She paused to compose herself. Her wolf bolstered her and she went on. “That was unbelievably amazing, Rafe. It's never been like that with anyone else. Never.” She might have imagined it, but she thought his muscles twitched under her hand.

  “I just look at you and I'm wet,” she admitted. He inhaled sharply at those words. She could almost hear his increased heart rate. “But it's more than just the fact we had great sex before, and that you blew my mind again with that orgasm the other night, and that you were more concerned about my enjoyment than your own. And it was really, really enjoyable for me.”

  Sara stopped to clear her throat, choking back the sting of tears. She didn't even know where they were coming from. The sound of voices and laughter drifted over from the house. Hopefully no one was witnessing their raw moment out here.

  “Rafe.” She let one finger press against him, then stroke tiny circles against his hard muscle. His arousal flared again. Biting her lip, she pulled back her hand. “You want more from me than just a fling, don't you? More from—us.” She hadn't thought of them as an “us” before, but saying it aloud made it simple reality. There could be an “us” with Rafe.

  Her wolf whined in eager agreement, nudging hopefully at the corners of Sara's mind.

  Rafe took a long, measured breath in through his nose. As he let it exhale slowly through his mouth, he also seemed to let off some of the coiled energy still clinging to him. All other sounds faded to inconsequential background noise as she waited for his reply.

  “I knew from the very first moment we ever kissed, Sara,” he finally said. “Over a year ago. But you weren't ready, so I let you go.”

  His eyes, still darkened to indigo, lasered into hers and didn't let go. The hair on the back of Sara's neck almost crackled from the electricity bouncing between them. Rafe's eyebrows lowered and cast his face into that possessive expression she'd seen at the hot springs. Damn her body, it once again responded with hardening nipples, wetness pooling between her legs, and a shortness of breath that had nothing to do with tears.

  “I'm not letting you go again, Sara. Regardless of how you see yourself, I know who you are. You're the only woman for me.”

  He stepped forward in a graceful motion, gently caught the back of her head with his hand, and pulled her to him. Trembling from his proximity, mind and emotions scrambled into a mix of confusion topped with helpless lust for this one wolf, Sara let his mouth cover hers. His lips played over hers, dancing and teasing until she groaned into them, then fastened on with an intense, breath-stealing kiss. Her hands seemed to rise of their own volition to his shoulders, then his neck, cupping around and pulling his head down to hers.

  Rafe reached his arms around Sara and pulled her body against his. Her breasts pressed hard into him, her hips moved into his, and she leaned into his kiss so hard their teeth scraped. She didn't care. She let him savor her mouth with his, let herself get lost in the roaring moment of simple oneness that made everything else disappear. It felt too good to stop.

  Except, of course, she had to. With a major effort, she pulled back from him. Chest heaving, lips roughened to an almost painful sensitivity from his welcome assault, Sara put up a hand between them, despite the fact he hadn't resisted her release.

  “I can't.”

  A crow coughed out its harsh sound from one of the trees.

  “Sara.” Maybe he hadn't fought her moving away from him, but a mix of longing and warning coated his voice. She rushed to get the rest of the words out before she lost control again.

  “I have to prove myself, Rafe. On my own terms. It can't be because I'm the next alpha's girlfriend. Woman. Mate.” Rushing apparently led to more linguistic stumbling. “I've got to do this on my own.”

  “You don't have to prove anything to any—”

  “Yes, I do!” God, she wanted nothing more but than to kiss him again. To fling herself on him and have those fingers tiptoe over every inch of her body, inside her, coaxing out more sensations that would make her scream. “Nobody would ever take me seriously as your mate if I can't prove myself first.”

  He took breath again to speak, but she beat him to it.

  “I want you.” She laughed a little, at herself. “Trust me. But being a Guardian has to come first right now. Being the strongest Pack member I can. Please, Rafe. Please say you understand that. Please.”

  Another silence stretched between, taut yet fragile. The crow uttered its husky, croaking call again, then flapped off to another tree. Sara was achingly aware of her racing heartbeat, her wolf's nervous pacing, the sun bathing her in light and warmth while she felt darkness creeping inside.

  Rafe spoke as though it were difficult for him, as though he pushed the words out through lips now stiff and hard.

  “All right, pretty wolf.” She blinked at the ragged emotion behi
nd those words, despite his stiff face. “Do what you have to. But I'm telling you this. Now that I've made up my mind, I'm not letting you go again. I think the question here is, are you letting me go before we have a chance to make this something real?”

  As if shot through the heart, she lurched back from the vehemence of his words. He gave her another long, almost unbearably silent look. Then he just lifted his eyebrows and twisted his lips in acknowledgement they were done with the conversation, turned, and left.

  Only after he was out of sight did Sara suck in a gasping breath. Doing her best to ignore the troubled whines of her wolf, she stood for a long time before she finally could move her leaden feet and walk on.

  8

  Downtown Durango in springtime burst with color, life, and the energy of newly reawakened people. An intoxicating something or other filled the warming air with hope and promise. Fresh, bouncy joy and excitement served to fill the streets with happy chatter and plenty of easy smiles.

  Sara tried to latch onto some of that happy-la-la stuff for herself as she clicked down the sidewalk in cute little heels, which she wore often when the weather began to warm up. She knew her blue sundress flattered her eyes and her body. Regardless, its intended purpose of making her feel feminine and relaxed wasn't working. At all.

  Well, happiness was a darned hard thing to capture when turmoil and doubt still clouded her mind. Seeing Rafe almost every day for the past several weeks provided an exercise in maintaining her composure as well as longed-for serious professionalism in the face of his occasionally darkly tempting glances. She knew she didn't imagine he totally undressed and then kissed her senseless with his eyes. They simply might be discussing that night's patrol when he would toss a smoldering look at her and she had to sit down for fear her quivering legs would wobble too much. But he never extended the invitation beyond a lingering glance at her body or a long gaze directly into her eyes. He always simply cocked one eyebrow, as if daring her to respond.