Demon with Wolves (Shadowpeak Wolves Book 3) Page 5

  “She’s trying to breathe,” Jay yelled, reaching for the buzzer before turning back to Cassie, attempting to calm her.

  “It’s okay, Cassie, it’s okay, baby,” Jay spoke frantically. “There’s a tube in your throat. We’ll get it out in a minute. Don’t panic.”

  Cassie’s eyelids flickered, and she stared at them with wide, confused eyes.

  “It’s okay, love,” Jay murmured.

  A nurse raced into the room. The door remained open as Josiah looked on in concern, obviously expecting the worst. When he saw Cassie’s eyes were open, he sent Devon running off to the waiting room.

  “Everyone out!” the nurse yelled.

  * * * * *

  “I can’t believe Cassie’s going to be all right.” Dusty stared out the passenger window of Cain’s truck as he drove to the estate. She had to fight the urge to undo her belt, slide along the bench seat and scoot up to his warmth.

  “When she opened her eyes when I saw she was okay…” her voice trailed off. It was a miracle.

  Cain grunted in reply, his hands tightening on the large steering wheel. Everything about his truck was oversized and dark, in keeping with its owner.

  Dusty wasn’t a small woman, but around Cain, she almost felt delicate. Part of it was his size, the sheer absolute maleness of him. But the other part had to do with how he made her feel. Protected. Safe.

  The only other time in her life she’d felt safe was as a small pup—when she’d thought the only monsters in existence were the ones living in her closet. The ones her daddy scared off every night so she could sleep soundly in her bed. It wasn’t until her father died that she realized the ones in her closet didn’t have anything on those in the real world.

  Not that she thought of Cain as a father figure. Oh no, her feelings for him were one hundred percent sexual. She ran her gaze over his muscular body. Her skin tightened, flushed, her body heat rising as arousal pooled low in her belly.

  His knuckles were white with tension.

  “Are you mad about something?” she asked.

  “Mad? No, I’m furious.”

  “Huh,” she said. “You know, when most people get mad at me, they either yell, or they storm off. They don’t offer me a ride home.”

  He flicked his gaze over to her briefly before returning to watching the road.

  “I’m furious that some bastard came so close to hurting you. You could have been seriously injured in that car crash. I’m concerned about you,” he admitted.

  “Why? I’m fine, I wasn’t hurt.” She wasn’t used to people worrying about her. Being annoyed with her—sure. Angry, irritated—definitely. And lately, there had been plenty of pity, more than anyone should have to endure.

  He turned the truck, taking a track that led away from her cabin.

  “Why are we going this way?”

  “You’re coming home with me.” Cain lived in a less populated part of the estate.

  “Uhh, Cain.” Her hand hovered over her seat belt.

  “Don’t touch that belt.”

  Her jaw dropped at his words as she stared at him.

  “Don’t push me right now, Dusty. You might have a death wish, but while I’m around and have breath in my body, by God, you will not harm yourself.”

  “I don’t have a death wish.” Surprise drowned her anger. A death wish? What was he talking about? She wasn’t suicidal.

  “Don’t you? You spend your nights drinking yourself into oblivion, you’re losing weight. You’re taking no interest in pack business. And I noticed you talking to yourself in the waiting room. What were you doing at Samson’s, Dusty?”

  She gaped at him for a moment. “I wanted a drink.”

  “What’s wrong with the Blue Bar? It’s in town, and it’s friendlier.”

  “I felt like drinking at Samson’s. It’s got character.” And she knew no one would look for her there. “I can take care of myself. I’m a werewolf, remember?” She folded her arms across her chest.

  “Yeah? And what if someone had attacked you? You’re an excellent fighter, Dusty. But your leg needs a chance to heal. You could put it out of commission for good if you don’t take care of it now.”

  “My leg didn’t stop me from fighting off three bikers last night.” As soon as she said the words, she longed to take them back.

  He slammed on the brakes, bringing his truck to a sharp halt. His arm shot across her chest to hold her to the seat as though he didn’t quite trust the seat belt to do its job. Undoing both their belts, he turned her until she faced him.

  His voice was low and controlled as he spoke.

  “What did you say?”

  She stuck her nose in the air. “I fought off three bikers last night. By myself.”

  “You’re lying.”

  Damn.

  “Well, I had some help,” she muttered.

  “What help?”

  She remained silent, and he sighed. “You can’t keep doing this, Dusty. You’re going to self-destruct.”

  “No one appointed you my keeper.” She struggled to release herself from his grasp, realizing the truth in his words but not wanting to admit them.

  “I did,” he gritted out between clenched teeth.

  Dusty sneered to hide her surprise, squashing down the hint of pleasure that assuaged her. “All we had was a roll in the hay. That doesn’t give you the right to boss me around. Someone giving me orders does not turn me on.”

  “Oh, I disagree. When I give you orders, you will definitely be turned-on.”

  Oh hell, did she just shiver in excitement?

  She didn’t, did she?

  “But this has nothing to do with sex. This is about your well-being and, sweetheart, mate with me or not, I am going to look out for you.”

  Dusty was still trying to decide how she felt about that when he obliterated her every thought with a brush of his tongue across her lips. Her mouth opened in a surprised gasp and he swiftly took advantage, sliding his tongue inside.

  His tongue, his lips, even his teeth brought her completely under his spell. He clasped her face, holding her lightly, not forcing her. There was no need for that. She was completely and utterly giving herself to him. But as she moved closer, wanting his warmth surrounding her, covering her, inside her, he moved back into his seat.

  Bereft of his touch, she took a moment to recover, breathing deeply.

  “Shit,” she swore, leaning back against her seat as she attempted to douse the flames of arousal racing through her body. When she stared over at Cain, his face betrayed none of his feelings, but his hands were clenched tightly around the steering wheel again.

  “You make me lose control,” he said starkly.

  Dusty’s heartbeat still raged in her ears. It was taking all her willpower not to straddle his hips and ride him until they were both satisfied.

  Make him lose control? Cain never lost his cool. He was known for his calm under fire.

  “Put your seat belt back on,” he ordered. His hands were already moving, clicking his own belt into place.

  “Why?” she asked.

  He sent her a stern look. “Because it could save your life.”

  She shook her head. “Not that. Why’d you stop kissing me?”

  “Because my timing isn’t right. I don’t want you thinking that this is just about sex. It’s not. I want you, Dusty. All of you.”

  “You can’t have all of me, Cain.” No matter how much she might want to give all of herself to him.

  “Look, I know you have issues with us being together. But I know your wolf feels what mine does. That we are meant to be together. You can’t deny what’s between us—the heat, the attraction. From the first moment I saw you, I wanted you, and my wolf wanted his mate.

  “I fought it for a start. I didn’t want a mate any more than you did. Then I realized that I was only living half a life without you. I’ve been patient, I’ve given you time. You have to let me in a little. Come home with me tonight, let me watch over you. You ca
n sleep in the spare room. If you make me take you back to your place, then I’m going to spend all night in the woods, watching your cabin.”

  She realized then how hard it would be for him to leave her alone tonight. And the fact that he didn’t try to force her to do what he wanted gave her hope. Maybe she should do what Cassie said. Trust in him.

  At the very least she could give him this. Dusty nodded, watching as his hold on the steering wheel relaxed.

  The rest of the drive was made in silence. Dusty was too busy thinking to talk.

  “Wait here.” He jumped from the truck and raced around, grabbing her waist to help her descend from the high cab.

  Instead of letting her go, Cain pulled her up into his arms and carried her onto the porch. Dusty’s breath caught in her chest as images of long, endless nights filled with hot, raging sex raced through her mind.

  “Cain, put me down.”

  “No.” His voice held zero flexibility.

  Giving in, she peered around in interest as he strolled through the house. She’d been too distracted to take much notice of her surroundings last time she’d been here. His place looked tidy and comfortably furnished. They passed a room filled with shelves of books, then a couple of closed doors before entering a large bathroom.

  Set before a huge window was a big, freestanding, clawfoot bath. A large counter ran down one side of the room, and a double-headed shower was set in the corner. Placing her on the counter, Cain turned on the bath taps. When he pressed a switch on the wall, little lights came to life on the floor around the bath.

  “This is amazing,” she breathed. The window looked out into the forest. There were no close neighbors, so privacy wasn’t a problem. “The view must be breathtaking in daylight.”

  “It is, that’s why I put such a large window in.”

  “You did this?”

  “Yep, I designed it and did all the work myself.”

  “Really?” She gaped at him.

  He nodded before leaving. When he returned, he held a folded green t-shirt.

  “You can put this on after your bath.” Setting it on the counter, he reached up to grab a bottle from the cupboard above her head. As his arm brushed against her breasts, she shivered, her nipples tingling. Her resolve to resist him was crumbling away.

  “Shh, sweetheart, I won’t hurt you.” His low voice warmed her, and she realized she’d been making soft noises filled with want. Cain pushed her thighs apart, stepping between them.

  Dusty swayed, breathing in his warm, dark scent—a mix of sage and cedar, reminding her of the darkest, deepest depths of the forest. He nibbled at her lips, slipping his tongue across her mouth, dipping inside to play with her.

  He leaned back. “Body wash.”

  She shook her head, attempting to clear it.

  “What?”

  He showed her the bottle he held in his hand.

  “Here’s some body wash. You’d better get in before the water grows cold.”

  Drawing back, he helped her down, holding her until she was steady on her feet.

  “Cain—” She bit her lip to stop herself from begging him to kiss her again.

  “Yell out if you need anything.”

  He was gone before she could answer. Dusty let out a groan and banged her head with the plastic bottle. And what was he doing with strawberry and papaya body wash anyway? Jealousy surged at the thought of some other woman leaving this here. Her snarl faded as she noticed that the seal hadn’t been broken.

  Limping to the bath, Dusty stripped and threw her clothes on the floor before climbing into the blissful warmth. Hot water soothed her tight muscles but didn’t ease the real ache, the ache he’d begun. It was hard to stick to her resolve to resist him when her body was overloaded with arousal and crying out for release.

  “Fuck!”

  Reaching one hand down her stomach, she circled her clit, determined to ease the ache. Resting one leg on the side of the bath, she drew her finger around the small nub of nerves.

  Dusty pinched her nipple with her free hand, her eyes closing as she imagined it was Cain’s fingers driving her wild. Her pulse quickened as she moved her fingers faster, reaching her peak.

  A small cry escaped her as orgasm took her and she fell back, breathing hard.

  It was a totally unsatisfactory orgasm. Need still tormented her, pounding at her clit, throbbing through her body.

  She knew no matter how many times she made herself come, she was never going to ease the ache by herself.

  Cain strode straight from the bathroom, through the house and out into the evening air. But the cool, peaceful night did nothing to calm the storm raging through him. Stripping, he bounded from the porch. He needed to rid himself of this excess energy. Because if he didn’t, he knew he was going to turn around, race right back into that bathroom and take her. Never before had anyone tested his control the way Dusty did.

  Since he’d first laid eyes on her, he’d known she was his. His wolf had recognized his mate, the man had recognized the other half of his soul, and together they craved her more than they needed to breathe, to hunt, to live.

  But he’d been reluctant to tie himself to her, to care for someone that much. So he’d kept away from her as much as he could. Tried to hide from his feelings. When he’d finally stopped running and taken a good look at his life, he’d come to the painful realization that he was a coward. Something he never thought he’d be.

  But it was the truth. He’d been too scared to risk himself.

  And yet only half the battle was won. He knew they were meant to be together. Now for the tough part—convincing Dusty. She was wary of a relationship, of anything threatening the independence she guarded fiercely. He’d been moving slowly, trying to build up her trust in him, to show her that together they could be stronger than they were apart.

  He didn’t want to change her. He loved who she was. That didn’t mean he couldn’t take care of her, couldn’t watch her back.

  He’d almost lost it today when she’d called him. Between the time he’d spoken to her on the phone until they’d found the wrecked vehicle, he’d imagined the worst.

  The wolf wanted to claim her. Now. His human half knew that would only reinforce her belief that he’d try to take her over.

  He was being torn apart.

  Sprinting into the woods, he changed as he ran. Bounding, he thrilled in the nightlife around him, racing until his legs burned until his lungs heaved.

  He was reluctant to go too far, not wanting to leave her. While she was by no means defenseless, she was still injured.

  He may not have claimed her yet, but she was his. And he would watch over her.

  Dusty held Cain’s t-shirt up to her face. His scent lingered in the cloth, bringing her a clashing sense of peace and arousal. How could his scent make her feel so hot, so excited? And yet at the same time make her wish she could drop her guard, let him in—let the sheer calm and confidence that lived within him surround her. Looking into the mirror, she noticed her eyes had grown bigger, shinier. Her skin was flushed, chasing away the paleness of fatigue and worry.

  Knowing she was tightening the rope binding her to him, she slipped the t-shirt over her head. Although she was tall, it still fell past her bottom to brush the top of her thighs.

  She limped from the bathroom. The warm water had done wonders for her leg, soothing the tense, tight muscles. But it was still weak and ached uncomfortably as she moved, following the tantalizing scent of food.

  “Hey,” she said as she entered the kitchen. Cain turned from the stovetop, his gaze roaming over her as he wiped his hands on a towel.

  “Dinner’s almost ready.” He waved her over to a stool. Dusty studied the kitchen. It was gorgeous. Huge. A wide, high countertop ran around the room, the end of which formed a breakfast bar. The countertop was made of dark granite, the cabinets a light cream. Red fixtures brightened the room, matching the bright splash back behind the stove. She sat on one of the stools at the breakf
ast bar and watched him, surprised by how at ease he appeared to be.

  “You cook?”

  Cain put mounds of glorious-smelling food onto plates. “I like to eat. Nearly burned the place down a couple of times learning how to cook.”

  “Your kitchen is amazing.”

  He grinned, and her heart skipped a beat at the rare sight. Her mouth watered as he placed a heaped plate of crispy-skinned chicken, creamy mashed potatoes, and green beans covered in gravy before her. “I waited until I’d passed the stage of burning everything before I did it up. Should have seen the old one—food stains on the ceiling, burn marks on the countertop.”

  Dusty had just taken a forkful of chicken when she choked. Cain quickly got up and filled a glass of water for her.

  “Thank you.” She stared over at him in disbelief. “Food stains on the ceiling? How? You are joking, right?”

  Cain shook his head ruefully. “Flipping pancakes looked so easy on TV. They stuck really well to the ceiling. Left a hell of a stain. ’Course I had put blueberries in them.”

  She giggled before clapping her hand over her mouth. What was she doing? She never giggled.

  “Well, this is delicious. Thanks.”

  “Glad you like it,” he replied huskily. Dusty glanced at him, suspicious of the soft tone. But his face gave nothing away. They ate in silence. She scraped up the last bit of food from her plate then sighed with satisfaction.

  Cain smiled and stood, carrying their plates to the sink.

  “Come on.” He held out a hand. “I’ll help you to your room.”

  “I can make it myself,” she snapped, needing to put some space between them. He stood his ground.

  “I’m sure you can, but the less stress you place on your leg tonight, the better. It’s going to be sore in the morning.”

  She sighed, accepting the truth of his words. Placing her hand in the crook of his elbow, she let him support some of her weight as they walked down the passage. Entering a large, airy bedroom, she peered around.

  “Like it?”

  Like it? She loved it. Large french doors opened out onto the porch. From the four-poster bed, she’d easily be able to look into the forest beyond. Simply decorated, there were no frills, no clutter, just the way she liked things.