Underhanded and dishonorable as his actions had been, he'd still marked her—maybe not the wolfen way, but with his seed. Bottom line, that was all that really mattered.
The thought dispelled his weariness from his bout with Balin.
The distraction still cost him. Jared slammed a fist into his already throbbing jaw, redirecting his attention. Spitting out the blood that filled his mouth, he turned to Jared and grinned, planting his fist deeply in the other man's belly.
* * * *
Danika knew it was Con even before she opened the door. He grinned at her, which only made her blood boil. She slung his jeans in his face. “You didn't use the damned condom!” she growled.
He caught the jeans in a broad fist before they could slap him in the face. His blond brows rose almost to his hair line. He shifted uncomfortably, giving her a view of his cronies, who'd obviously escorted him to the door. “I dropped it,” he muttered.
Danika narrowed her eyes at him. “Then you should've picked it up again, damn it!” she snapped. “God only knows what you exposed me to!"
Indignant anger surged through him, shredding caution. “We can't carry human fucking sexual diseases—pass them or get them!” he snarled before he could check himself.
Her expression went blank. “What?"
"Fuck! Woman! You make me crazy! You know that?"
"Stupid, more like!” Dakota commented loudly enough his shoulders stiffened.
Con tamped his anger with an effort. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” he muttered.
She looked slightly mollified until another thought apparently popped into her mind. “I suppose you're going to assure me I couldn't have caught ‘pregnant’ either?"
He clamped a hand over her mouth, but he knew it was too late. He could
feel
the sudden alert tension in the others. “Could we discuss this later?” he growled in a low voice when she shoved his hand away from her face.
She flicked a look behind him and he relaxed slightly. “NO!” she said sweetly and slammed the door in his face.
He stood scowling at the vibrating panel for several moments, clenching and unclenching his hands impotently and finally turned and stalked down the steps to his bike. There was no amusement in a single face when he glanced around at the others and he felt his belly clench with a mixture of dread and rage. They'd heard her alright. He could see from the way they'd lifted their heads instinctively to sniff the air that they were searching for the elusive scent he'd detected.
Any hope he'd held on to that it was too subtle for them to catch at this distance fled when they met his gaze again. They knew. Before, they'd only been battling against the lust of their human side and the chances were they would've eventually settled it to someone's satisfaction, might even have considered sharing her to keep a little peace between them—though he would never have gone for that.
This was different. The want they'd felt before was compounded now with the animal need to sow their seed. It was debatable now whether their human intellect could overcome the animal instinct to beat out all contenders and breed their own offspring.
Briefly, the satisfaction settled in him that he'd been first out the gate. It didn't last. She was still giving off that subtle, delectable, completely irresistible perfume that beckoned the male to breed her.
Anger and confusion replaced his satisfaction. He'd mounted her twice more after the first time, pumped his seed into her until he'd hardly had a drop left in him. His seed should've conquered, unless....
Could she have produced another egg? Did human women do that?
He didn't think so, but what the fuck did he know about human women anyway? He'd never had any interest in one before.
The only thing he
was
certain of was that the next contest between him and the others was going to be a lot more vicious. They might
think
they didn't want to mate with a human female, but they weren't going to be able to resist the urge to try now that they knew she was ripe for it. They were, in fact, going to be damned lucky from now on if they managed to prevent the beast from emerging.
* * * *
Con had looked like pure hell, Danika reflected with far more empathy than she thought he deserved considering the nasty trick he'd played on her. She'd wavered between outrage that the bikers had ganged up on him and the desire to get in a few swings herself since she'd found the damned condom.
She didn't believe for one moment he'd merely ‘dropped’ it! As far gone as she'd been by that time, even though it had barely registered at the moment, she remembered the look on his face when he'd looked down at the condom—It hadn't just been reluctance. His face had reflected outrage that she'd ‘suggested’ it and grim determination.
She supposed shock had kept her from being really afraid when she'd found it, but the uneasiness she should have felt never had surfaced, at least insofar as fear of catching stds. He was a strong, virile, healthy male as far as she could see, showing no outward signs of anything she needed to worry about, anyway—though she knew that was hardly conclusive. His determination to get into her pants was probably a strong indication that he was very sexually active and she
still
felt like she'd be alright on that count.
Either because she was complete idiot or, possibly, because her instincts were right and she really was safe.
She was pretty sure she didn't have to worry about getting pregnant either, although her cycles tended to be irregular, making it hard for her to pin down her time of the month.
Regardless, he'd shown a complete lack of consideration for her, not surprising, she supposed, since he was obviously too young to have any sense of responsibility!
Well! She hoped he'd enjoyed it because he wasn't getting another chance at her even if he still wanted to.
Which she doubted. He'd collected his scalp lock. He was probably ready to move on to the next female.
The experience had severely dampened her enthusiasm for a fling!
Not that it hadn't been a once-in-a-lifetime experience! She couldn't have been more wrong about his prowess in bed! He wasn't just hung like a stallion. He knew how to use it, knew exactly how and where to stroke her to bring her off so swiftly, and so forcefully that she'd thought she would faint when she came—every time. He'd given her more climaxes in one night than she'd had in her entire life before put together.
She ruminated over that for a while, mostly because she couldn't prevent the vacuous smile that curled her lips at the memories or the drift of her mind toward reliving the experience. Taking herself to task after a few minutes, she struggled to dredge up the outrage she'd been trying to nurse.
Instead, she remembered his battered face and her anger shifted to the others. Why had they jumped on him, she wondered? What could he possibly have done that had made
all
of them want to beat the hell of him?
It must have been some gang thing, she decided finally, angered about the stupid, violent rituals associated with gangs. Violence never solved anything—not in the human world. People were too inclined toward vendettas. Animals could solve their problems that way. They didn't carry grudges.
It occurred to her that Con didn't seem particularly resentful toward the others, though. He'd seemed anxious to placate her—probably trying to butter her up for another run at her, she thought angrily.
What the hell had he meant by that remark anyway?
We can't carry human fucking sexual diseases—pass them or get them!
We who? The gang? What the hell had given him the idea that being part of a gang would make him immune to stds? Why had he said
human,
as if they weren't? It was damned odd choice of words.
Maybe he was still stoned?
She was pretty sure he'd been at least a little intoxicated the night before. She had a bad feeling that was behind his losing his head to start with. She might not get out much, but she'd certainly gotten around enough to have heard men comment about getting so blind drunk they had no idea what the woman looked like when they dragged them into bed.
He hadn't
seemed
that drunk, but then again, she hardly knew him. Maybe he carried his liquor well? Some men could fake almost sober and still not be in full possession of their faculties.
She was pretty sure he'd been out skinny dipping in the lake. It had been a while before she'd recalled nearly tripping over clothing in the dark when she'd run from the wolves, but it had finally connected in her mind with the fact that Con had been coming from that direction when she'd first seen him. And he hadn't been wearing anything but his jeans. Neither had Xavier. She hadn't realized the trail wound that close to the lake, but that was the only explanation that occurred to her.
And Xavier had seemed even drunker than Con.
She wrinkled her brow, trying to recall what he'd said.
That wasn't
that
wolf pack!
There was
another
wolf pack?
She shook her head. He'd been so drunk he was swaying on his feet. She doubted he had any idea what he'd said. They'd both been pissed off, though, she realized. Con had said as much.
Because she'd started shooting and scattered wolves in every direction?
A hint of amusement hit her when a vision arose of the gang down at the lake drinking and skinny dipping when all hell broke loose. They must have thought it was somebody shooting at them! No doubt after they'd figured out they weren't dodging bullets coming their way they'd been thoroughly pissed off.
They'd had the presence of mind to grab their jeans and get into them, though. That realization struck a sour note. How drunk, or unnerved by the gunfire, could they have been if they remembered to hunt their pants and put them on?
They didn't strike her, any of them, as being particularly self-conscious. It was an intriguing thought that they might be bashful, but she found it hard to swallow.
And why was it that only Con and Xavier had returned?
She had the feeling, right or wrong, that the others had
just
returned when they'd barged into her cabin and virtually dragged Con out of her bed.
She shrugged. Maybe she was wrong about that. Maybe it had only been Xavier and Con down at the lake.
If that was the case, though, how was it that the others had only appeared, thoroughly outraged, in her cabin hours later? If they were going to be enraged for whatever reason, shouldn't they have been indignant immediately when Xavier had stumbled in and Con hadn't? It had to have been hours, she knew. She'd dozed after their first bout of sex and Con had aroused her, thoroughly, some time later, and then again a while after that.
Something wasn't fitting together. She wasn't certain what it was that just didn't click or why it didn't but something besides her little interlude with Con wasn't right.
Beyond Xavier's odd comment, none of the others had said anything either about her jaunt into the woods, her shooting up the woods, or the wolves she'd scattered. She hadn't actually talked to them, of course. Maybe they were all angry with her for going commando out in the woods and breaking up their little party?