Grif (Tales of the Were - Redstone Clan) (3 page)

She stared after him as he left, he knew, though he didn’t turn around. His senses were bathed in her scent, and her conflicting emotions. He knew she was intrigued and he hoped she would talk to Ed and the others as soon as possible. All in all, the day had just turned interesting.

Lindsey cleaned up the rest of the mess and had everything shining once again when Ed returned from his errand. She’d had time to think about the tall, handsome, gold-haired stranger as she worked, realizing that she hadn’t been so captivated by a man’s mere presence in her entire life. His smile affected her breathing and his sparkling golden eyes seemed to see into her very soul.

When he’d touched her hand, she had felt a tingle down deep in her tummy that she’d never experienced before. He had practically made love to her with his eyes, and she’d been secretly thrilled by his unceasing scrutiny. His gaze followed her, devoured her, and promised hot, wicked delight.

She’d been aware of him from the moment he came through the door. His striking looks, lean hipped frame and strange, vigilant watchfulness, caused her to catch her breath. Those locals she knew were different had nodded in respectful greeting, but none offered him a place to sit, and he didn’t seem to expect it

So either he was some kind of lone wolf, or he was something else all together. He was definitely an enigma, and could be trouble for her mission, but she really did need to fix up the house if she planned to stay long enough to complete her task.

And complete it she would. She’d made a promise to her grandfather she intended to keep. They could threaten her all they wanted, but she wouldn’t back down. Things had to be made right and she was the only one left to do it. She wouldn’t let her grandfather’s spirit down. She would complete the task he’d given her—the sacred duty he’d entrusted to her alone—and put right what he’d made wrong.

With that thought firmly in mind, she went back to talk to Ed while the place was empty.

“Do you know a man named Griffon Redstone?”

Ed wiped his hands as he retied his apron. “Grif? Yeah, he’s a good guy. Was he in for lunch? It was so busy I didn’t get to see who all came and went.”

“Yeah, he was here earlier.” She hesitated only a moment, but Ed looked up from his work with a questioning smile. “He says he’s a handyman.”

Ed nodded with a wide grin. “Best damn handyman I’ve ever had. He rewired the fryer and then rigged a new line for that fancy oven I got a few months back. Installed it too, clean as a whistle.”

She looked around at the equipment and noted the neat installation job. “So he’s reliable then?”

Ed nodded. “I reckon so. Why do you ask?”

She smiled as he offered her a stool in his private domain. “My generator is acting up and he offered to come by to take a look at it. I need a lot of work done on the place actually, but I don’t know if I can afford him.”

“He doesn’t overcharge for his work. In fact, if anything, I think he cut me some slack on the labor costs. He didn’t charge much over the parts and he spent a good amount of time on the job. Did it up right.”

“Do you think he’s…well, um…safe?” She hated the hesitancy in her voice but knew she needed to be careful with things the way they were.

“You mean to go out to your place?” Ed seemed to consider his answer. “Can’t say as I’ve ever heard a bad thing about him. He’s been respectful of my waitresses and never put the moves on any girl I heard tell about. I’d say he’s on the up and up, but if you’re uncomfortable, why don’t you give me a call when he gets to your place. If you don’t call me back in a reasonable time, I’ll send the sheriff.”

She laughed as he’d probably intended, somewhat reassured. She used her afternoon break to go talk to the other shop owners Grif had mentioned. They all gave him glowing reviews too. Wilma especially seemed to think he was trustworthy, which meant a lot to Lindsey. It was always good to have a woman’s opinion.

The fact that Wilma thought he was “H-O-T, HOT” too was just reassurance that the woman wasn’t blind.

So it was with some eagerness that Lindsey awaited his return to the diner. She only worked at Ed’s two days a week, but they were long days. She made decent money in tips and wages, and the part-time job helped keep her solvent.

When Grif returned, it was at the height of the dinner rush, so Lindsey had little time to talk to him. Still they managed to set a time for him to look at the generator and she gave him directions. He ate the rest of his meal, lingering a bit over desert, but the crowd was demanding and eventually he left without much further conversation.

Chapter Two

Grif knew where she lived now, the intriguing human female with the soft hands and a scent that made him think instantly of sex and passion. Her home wasn’t all that far from his cabin as the crow flies—or the cougar runs.

He couldn’t seem to keep away, and found himself in his fur, stalking the perimeter of her yard. He was clawing trees and putting his mark on the boundaries of her property to warn others of his kind that she was under his protection. He didn’t know what good that might do if he ran up against the whole werewolf Pack, but it was something. Maybe it would buy her some time at least.

At most, it would buy him some time to get into her pants. He made a running leap and landed on the lower roof of the slightly sagging back porch. The entire house was dark except for two rooms near the front on the second floor. Stalking quietly upward, he noted the roof was in really bad shape. There were gaps and even two larger holes that allowed him to see right inside the lit rooms. Apparently she hadn’t bothered trying to plug them up yet, but the array of buckets and pans located on the floor directly beneath, indicated she was well aware of her roof problem.

Grif, in his werecougar form, sat gently on the cross beams, making sure no noise would alert her to his presence as he waited to see if he could catch a glimpse of her. His supple ears swiveled and twitched, hearing her soft humming growing nearer in the room below his rooftop perch. She was chanting some ancient Native song, her voice rising melodically through the house, wafting up into the starry night. The sound grew louder as he realized he was looking down into her bedroom. He could just make out about half of the large bed if he craned his neck.

She toweled her damp hair as she entered from what must be the bathroom, in a white terry cloth robe that came to mid-thigh. His mouth watered, even in his altered state. His feline senses exploded as the soft scent of her skin wafted up through the rafters. She must’ve just come from her bath and Grif felt his libido kick into high gear.

Switching on her hair dryer, he noted the dimming of the old light fixtures. The wiring in the decrepit house wasn't up to dealing with all the modern appliances she used. The old place needed some major work, and he was just the man to do it, but first he had to convince her.

He thought over their earlier encounter. He could tell she was a proud woman, though he sensed a soft, feminine side to her that called out to every protective instinct in him. It made his inner beast roar. And when he was in his fur, it made him want to bloody anyone who might dare threaten her.

Odd, he realized somewhere in the back of his brain, the fear that he would fail to protect her, as he had failed to protect his mother and older sister, didn’t fight past the overwhelming need to claim this small human.

She was so vulnerable. Human—and therefore frail—when compared to a woman of his own species, she was in much more danger from the everyday dangers of the world than he could even contemplate. But that didn’t seem to matter. He wanted her in a way he had never wanted another female, and he would have her.

It didn’t matter that she was human. It didn’t matter that he was a proven failure as a protector. Nothing mattered but getting inside her and staying there until she was well and truly out of his system.

She dried her lustrous light brown hair, then absently stroked some cream onto her face. He purred deep in his throat, watching her delicate hands smooth over her soft skin. He imagined the way she would feel against him, her softness stroking over his hardness.

Then she took off the robe.

His breath caught, his whiskers twitched and his senses tingled as she smoothed what smelled like baby oil over her arms, legs, breasts and shapely rear. The soft scent was the sexiest thing he had ever smelled.

Grif suddenly realized that the innocent scent had lingered on her skin ever so slightly when he had first scented her in the diner. He hadn't been able to place it then because it had mingled with her own musk in the hours since she'd put it on, becoming uniquely her own.

Her body was magnificent. Lush curves were topped by bountiful breasts that he longed to lick. She was built like the pinups of old—not too skinny to fuck hard—with toned muscles and inviting thighs. He wanted between those thighs. He wanted those shapely thighs cradling him as he mounted her high, hard and fast. He wanted to mold those curvy hips with his hands as he took her from behind, tunneling into her wet passage with a fury she would echo.

She was a truly sensuous woman. The lingering way she stroked the oil into her soft skin told him that. She obviously enjoyed the way her oily hands stroked over her skin, stopping to spend extra time on her nipples, drawing them out and pinching the tips. Closing her eyes and sighing as she did so, she made him harder than he thought possible.

His tongue lolled out of his mouth as her hands worked their way down, down, down, the fingers of one hand tangling in the trimmed curls at the apex of her thighs. She stroked down and inward, her fingers parting the delicate folds and curving around her clit, pressing lightly, then circling and pressing harder and harder as she fell to the bed and spread her legs wide.

Grif purred low in his throat as she used one hand to stroke her clit while the other stroked in and out of her passage. It was quite possibly the hottest thing he had ever witnessed. Her eyes were shut, her mouth panting out little breaths as she neared her pinnacle.

How he wished he was with her, that it was his hands stroking her pussy, his dick forging its way inside her core. He swore then that human or not, he was going to fuck her long and hard, and damn the consequences. He wanted her as he had never wanted any woman before and he was going to have her.

Lindsey came with a small cry, bucking on the bed for a long moment, but he knew the small release was nothing compared to what he would bring her. He would bathe her in his come and she would love every minute of it. She would suck him off and swallow him down and he would lap at her pussy, feasting on her cream.

Then he would shoot his seed inside her, marking her for all to scent. Oh, the humans wouldn't notice, but any
were
that came near enough would know that she was claimed by him. She would carry his scent for days after he came inside her and he would revel in that fact, even if she never realized it.

Below him, Lindsey shut off the light and pulled the covers up, settling in for sleep while he remained on the roof above, making plans.

Good as his word, Grif Redstone showed up at Lindsey’s place bright and early on Saturday morning. She greeted him a little stiffly, but he seemed aware of how wary she was and made no overt moves, staying in the yard while she came down off the front porch to greet him.

Wasting little time, he walked with her out back to where the ancient generator was located, just next to the back porch. He made small talk while he started looking over the machinery, calming her nerves with his easy-going manner and charming smile. But he also generated a warm, safe feeling low in her stomach that was hard to explain.

She didn’t know this man, except for the fact that he’d come to her defense in the diner. The local folks spoke well of him, which counted in his favor, but something deep down within her said he was a good man. A safe man. Though the precise meaning of the word
safe
was open for interpretation.

He certainly wasn’t safe to her peace of mind. The man made her blood pressure rise and her panties wet faster than any man she’d ever seen. Handsome in a rugged, slightly disheveled way, he appealed to her basic femininity. He wasn’t sloppy, but the long strands of his hair were artfully tousled in a natural way, though he definitely wasn’t a pretty boy who spent hours in front of a mirror to achieve the look. It just came to him naturally.

Whoa, mama!
That was a dangerous thing in a man, and he seemed totally unaware of how scrumptious he looked. Sure, he had confidence, but he wasn’t cocky. His confidence shone like an aura around him, radiating from deep inside. He was confident about himself as a man and a person, not as some kind of beefcake, though she thought he could give any male model a serious run for his money without even trying.

She left him out by the generator to work. She didn’t want to seem too desperate or cloying by standing there, watching him work. He was just too darn attractive.

But men like him were never attracted to her. She had to be deluding herself that she saw interest in his eyes. He was just being a good neighbor. He wasn’t coming on to her. In fact, he was doing all he could to make her feel at ease with him—to make friends.

And on some level she was relieved. No matter how gorgeous the man was, she couldn’t very well get involved with anyone now. Not while all her energies were dedicated to a life-altering course that would come to fruition in the next few days. She had commitments. She had to see them through, and no matter how much she was tempted to throw caution to the wind with this man, she knew she couldn’t.

Still, Lindsey couldn't help but take a look out her kitchen window every few minutes, just to see what Grif was up to. He tinkered and cursed a bit, banged on things, applied grease that got all over his hands and on his already stained jeans, and in general looked like a man on a mission as he worked on her ancient generator. She puttered and looked for excuses to stay near the back of the house so she could catch glimpses of his broad back from time to time, but chastised herself for ogling the man.