Rebel Wolf (Shifter Falls Book 1) (12 page)

20

I
an dropped
Anna off in the apartment, and then, to her surprise—since his job was to guard her—he left.

“I’m not going far,” he said to her as he opened the door. “I have to go downstairs and talk to Nolan, and I have to make sure the building is secure. Clean up, get some rest.”

So she took a long, hot shower, soaking the hot water into her bones. It was getting cold outside, the wind deeply chill, and the snow was starting hard. Anna loved winter, but she’d had enough of it, at least for a few hours.

Since he wasn’t home, she walked through the apartment wearing only a towel. The lights in the main room were off, and the only light came in from the windows, where streetlights were dimmed by the snow. It was surprising how comfortable she felt in Ian’s place, how homey it felt to her. She should feel out of place in the apartment of a man like Ian—a shifter, a lifelong bachelor, an ex-con—but she didn’t.

She rifled through the fridge in her towel, grabbed some cheese and crackers for a snack, and thought about Heath’s lecture again.
We date. We hook up. We have sex with whoever we want to, as often as we want to
. Had Ian ever brought a woman home to this place? For a second she wished she had a shifter’s sense of smell so she could know. It amazed her that women didn’t follow Ian around like puppies. He was a big, dark, dangerous wolf with green eyes, a rare and beautiful smile, and an incredible body. He smelled good and he kissed like a dream. If the women of Shifter Falls weren’t jumping him, she didn’t know what was wrong with them.

I should be jumping him.

No, she shouldn’t. She was supposed to be professional.

It didn’t feel professional, standing in his apartment naked, though. She walked to his bedroom and stood in the doorway. It was messy, the sheets twisted on the bed where his big body had lain. She wondered if he slept naked. She had the sudden, overpowering urge to walk to his bed and lie on it, just for a minute. Because he’d know. When he went to bed tonight, he’d smell her naked body in his bed. And he’d know, without a doubt, that she wanted him.

She
did
want him. Badly. But still, she couldn’t do that.

She sighed and leaned against the doorway, looking at his bedroom for a little while longer, reluctant to leave. There were clothes piled on the floor and on top of the dresser. Socks and boxer shorts tossed halfway into a laundry basket. A guy’s room, practically reeking of testosterone. She liked it. Daniel had always been a tidy, perma-press shirts on a hanger kind of guy.

To erase the thought of Daniel, she walked to the dresser and picked up one of Ian’s t-shirts, taking it with her when she left the room. She was supposed to wear those, anyway. She was just following the rules.

In her own room, she put Ian’s shirt on—it smelled like him, of course—and a pair of worn-in jeans and dug around for her cell phone. The signal out here in the Falls came and went, so she never heard the damn thing ring. But she had a signal now, and she could see that she had another message from her program advisor, Margaret. She sighed. If Margaret had called her twice in one day, it was probably important.

She listened to the messages, which were just Margaret asking her to call as soon as possible, then sat by the window in the main room and called back.

“Anna,” Margaret said when she answered. She was over sixty, with a strong, raspy voice that was firm but kind. “There you are. I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”

“I’ve been a little busy,” Anna said. “I’m free now. What’s up?”

“You’re in Shifter Falls?” Margaret sounded a little worried.

“I am,” Anna said, deciding to skip over the insanity of what was happening. “The work is going really well.”

“Okay, well. My call is about that, actually.”

Anna felt a shiver go down her spine that told her she wasn’t going to like this. “About what?”

“Your Shifter Falls project.” Margaret sighed. “I may as well break this to you quickly. The thesis committee met today, and it’s been decided that your research topic is not approved.”

“What?” Anna sat up, staring out at the snow. “We went through a process. The committee said it was fine.”

“I know, but it’s been reassessed. The committee approved your subject when the previous alpha is alive. Now that he’s dead and there is rumored to be violent unrest in the shifter community, they’ve revoked your permission. It’s too dangerous.”

“They’re shutting down my research because it’s
too dangerous
?”

“This is a prestigious program, Anna. To have a student injured, or worse, doing school-sanctioned research would shut down our funding.”

“There’s no unrest here,” Anna said, lying outrageously. “There’s a political process of sorts, but it’s under control. There hasn’t been any violence.” God, that was a crazy untruth. First her mother, now Margaret. She really was selling her soul for this project.

“Anna.” Margaret’s tone was sympathetic but firm. “It’s been done. You need to come back to Denver and meet with the committee, pick a new topic. Start again.”

Anna ran a hand through her damp hair. She didn’t
want
to start again. Shifters were her topic, her obsession. And she was
here
, studying them firsthand. The Donovans hadn’t once kept anything private from her or had her tossed out of the room—they’d been open and honest with her. They were a pack of stubborn loners who hated rules almost as much as they hated each other, but she hadn’t felt an ounce of disrespect from any of them. No human researcher had been in the position she was in right now. They had trusted her. They had treated her like pack.

Ian
had treated her like pack.

And now she had to leave.

She swallowed. She had worked long and hard to get where she was academically. She had no choice but to listen to what Margaret was saying. “I can’t leave right now,” she managed. “It’s a snowstorm. The drive is too dangerous.”

“I know,” Margaret said. “We’re getting it here, too. Just get back as soon as you can. I’ll tell the committee the situation, and that you’re on your way.”

When Anna hung up, she slumped against the wall and watched the snow come down, thick and furious. And wondered what she would tell Ian when he came home.

21

T
here was only
one stairwell to the roof of his building, and after talking to Nolan, Ian took it. It was a security measure, like he’d told Anna, but he had another reason, too. Someone had taken these stairs earlier, and he could smell exactly who it was.

He opened the door to the roof and stepped out into the thickly falling snow. Devon was sitting quietly near the roof’s ledge, looking out over Shifter Falls toward the woods and the mountains beyond. He wore jeans, a thick sweater, and a wool coat. He didn’t turn when Ian approached.

“I thought it was my job to guard Anna,” Ian said.

Still, Devon didn’t turn. He was the same height as Ian—six-four or so—and matched in weight, but he was built differently, with heavily muscled shoulders and arms. Ian knew from experience that Devon fought hard and bloody, but he himself was faster. It was how he had kept his life when Devon had tried to kill him.

“I’m just doing backup, brother,” Devon said. “Besides, the view from here is a good one in case there’s any trouble.”

It was true, and part of the reason Ian had come up here. The building wasn’t tall, but there were no tall buildings in Shifter Falls, and his building was well situated on a rise. He could see the patchwork of the town’s rooftops and a good number of its streets as well as the majestic mountains beyond. It was all blurry at the moment in the snow and the evening dark, but it was still an unbeatable view.

“Listen,” Ian said. “There’s been a decision. Brody will stand as alpha.”

Devon turned and looked at him, his expression inscrutable behind his thick, dark beard. “Oh, really?”

“It was impartial,” Ian said, not backing down. “We let Alison Masterson choose.”

Devon blinked. “Alison who works at the Four Spot?”

“Yes. We figured there was no way we’d be able to choose among ourselves, so we asked her to do it. She chose Brody. And I back him. It needed to be done.”

The next ten seconds hung in the balance, and Ian felt his muscles tense, just in case.

But Devon thought it over, and then he nodded. “That’s not a bad idea,” he said in his low rumble. “Alison is a Falls girl. She’s pack. She’s shy but not stupid.” He raised an eyebrow. “Though she’s not exactly impartial, because she’s been in love with Brody since she was ten.”

Ian shook his head. He’d picked up on that, though it wasn’t something he’d know, since he hadn’t grown up in the Falls. “He’s oblivious, isn’t he?”

“Completely. Even his sense of smell is oblivious when it comes to Alison.”

Ian shrugged. “Well, maybe she’s a good judge of character. Maybe she’s in love with him because he’s the kind of wolf who would make the best alpha.”

Devon turned away again, looking out over the town. Ian could see the edge of the tattoo that snaked up from his collar. It looked like inked flames. Ian himself only had the tattoos mandated by his kind: his wolf identifier, and the Donovan emblem on the back of his neck. But Devon had had others done, likely a lot of them from what Ian could see. There was the edge of ink on his neck, and more ink coming from his sleeve on the back of his hand. Something had compelled Devon to put ink all over his body. Something important. His half-brother, he knew, was almost a complete mystery to him.

“You won’t get trouble from me,” Devon said at last. “Alison may be biased, but she’s right, Brody is the best alpha. And we needed to choose fast. I’ll back him, and I’ll make sure Heath does, too.”

“Can I ask you something?” Ian said.

Devon shrugged. There was snow collecting on his shoulders, and Ian’s too. They were both oblivious to the cold.

“When you tried to kill me,” Ian said. “Was that an ordered kill?”

“Fuck,” Devon said, the only show of emotion Ian had seen from him. He brushed the snow from his hair, agitated. “Does it matter?”

“Since we’re going to be pack brothers, yes, it kind of matters to me to know whether you wanted to kill me or not.”

“I did want to kill you,” Devon said, his voice dark. “And yes, it was an ordered kill. Both are true.”

“Care to explain?” Ian asked him.

“No, I don’t.” Devon looked at him. “When I found you that night, Charlie wanted you dead. Now Charlie’s dead, and I don’t have the order anymore. So unless you break loyalty or the rules of the pack, you won’t have trouble from me again.”

“No,” Ian said. “You’ll just be an asshole.”

“That isn’t illegal,” Devon pointed out.

It was Ian’s turn to say “Fuck.” Brody had some reason he didn’t feel fit to be alpha. Devon was hiding secrets. Only Heath seemed to be an open book—unless his man-slut ways were hiding something. He had a lot of work to do here in the Falls.

Devon was still watching him, and he shook his head. “Stop puzzling it out, Ian,” he said. “You won’t get all your answers today. Go downstairs to your mate.”

“She’s not my mate,” Ian said automatically.

“If she wants it, claim her,” Devon said. “If you don’t, you’ll be sorry. Take it from me.”

Ian felt his eyebrows rise almost to his hairline as he looked at his huge, dark, tattooed brother. “You’re giving me mating advice?”

“I know more about mating than you do,” Devon said cryptically. “Now take my advice and fuck off.”

“Yeah,” Ian ground out. “
This
is gonna be a lot of fun. Fuck you too, Devon.”

He heard Devon laughing as he left the roof and slammed the door behind him.

He came back to the apartment and found her sitting in the window, wearing one of his shirts and a pair of jeans. And, apparently, nothing else, because when she turned to look at him, the first thing he noticed was her nipples through the shirt.
His
shirt.

She’d had a shower and her hair was damp, her face bare of makeup as it always was. She looked upset.

“What is it?” he asked her.

She looked away.

“Tell me,” he growled.

“It’s over,” she said to the window.

He stepped into the apartment, feeling the snow melting in his hair and down the collar of his coat. “What’s over?” he made himself say.

She looked back at him, sadness in her eyes. “My project,” she said. “It’s over. I have to go home.”

22

H
e stared
at her for a long minute, and despite herself, she drank him in. He’d been outside, and snow was melting on his dark hair, his eyelashes, the shoulders of his coat, in the scruff of his beard.

“You have to
leave
?” he said.

She stood from the window, coming closer to him without thinking. She crossed her arms over her chest. “They revoked permission for my research,” she said. “The school decided it’s too dangerous. I have to go back to Denver and pick another topic.”

“They can just do that?” he asked.

Anna felt a lump in her throat. “Apparently, they can.”

He ran a hand through his hair, and she watched droplets of melted snow trickle down the taut skin of his neck. “You can’t go anywhere tonight,” he said, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on the hook by the door. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I know. But I have to go back as soon as possible.” She watched him, every movement he made, the play of muscles under his shirt, the dark scruff on his jaw. She’d have to memorize him. “This doesn’t affect your prison release,” she said. “You were released legally, fair and square.”

He put his hands on his lean hips and looked at her. “I appreciate that,” he said, “but even if it weren’t true, if they want me, they’ll have to come get me. I’ll never go back.”

“I know,” she said. She stepped closer to him, unable to help herself. She could smell him now, his good Ian smell, and nearly feel his heat. She looked up into his eyes and the tension between them grew so thick she could barely breathe. Around them, the apartment was quiet and the snow fell hard outside the window.

Ian ran the tip of his tongue slowly across his lower lip. Anna watched, fascinated, her blood pounding in her veins.

“You know what this means,” he said in a rasp.

“Yes,” she breathed, coming closer again.

“You’re here for the night,” Ian said. “With me.”

“Yes.”

“You can’t leave.”

She rose on her tiptoes. “No.”

She uncrossed her arms, braced a hand on his chest, but still he kept his hands on his hips and didn’t touch her.

“You still see me as your research subject?” he asked her softly.

She dragged her hand down his chest, his stomach, and shook her head. “No.”

He stepped forward and tangled his hands in her hair. “Thank fucking God,” he said, and kissed her.

It was bold, like before, but it wasn’t panicked. He kissed her deep, opening her mouth, tasting her in strokes, exploring her. Anna dropped her hands to the hem of his shirt and pushed it up, sliding her palms over his hard, muscled stomach. He felt so good, tasted so good, that she dropped her hands again and tugged at the button on his jeans.

She thought perhaps he’d stop her, but he didn’t. Instead he broke the kiss, grabbed the t-shirt of his she was wearing, and slid it up off of her, dropping it on the ground. His gaze traveled down her breasts and her hard nipples, and without a word he leaned in and picked her up so her legs wrapped around his waist.

She clung to his big shoulders and kissed his neck as he carried her into his bedroom. He dropped her on his bed and landed on top of her, pausing only long enough to pull his shirt off over his head when she yanked at it. Then he leaned down and kissed her again, hard, skin to skin.

Anna moaned into his mouth. She had never been frantic for a man before, but she was now. She hooked her legs around his hips and squeezed, pressing him in to her, running her hands through his tousled hair. His big hand covered her breast, his thumb rubbing back and forth over her nipple, then pinching it gently between his thumb and forefinger as she squirmed beneath him. She was so wet she could feel it. He needed to
hurry.

She dropped her hands and tugged at the button of his jeans again, and he broke the kiss and trailed his mouth down her, over her breasts, down to her belly. He deftly undid her jeans and slid them off along with her panties, leaving her totally naked on the bed. He kissed along her belly button and then over to her hip, his scruff scratching her tender skin. He slowly moved a hand between her legs and brushed her with his thumb.

Anna bucked, gasping. “Ian.”

She felt him smile against her skin. “Impatient?” he asked.

“Yes.
Yes.

He touched her again, sliding his thumb just inside her, and she hoped he didn’t have any neighbors, because she moaned. In all her time with Daniel, she had
never
moaned. Ian had gotten her to do it in thirty seconds.

They stay for the sex,
he’d said.

He slid his thumb out of her and moved it up, over her clit, circling it a few times as she lay helpless, the pleasure washing over her so hard she couldn’t move. Then he moved back, undid his jeans, and slid them off with his boxers. He knelt on the bed between her legs and pulled her knees up around him and moved over her again, his big shoulders looming above her as he kissed her hard and deep.

When he broke the kiss, she looked down. Finally, she could see all of him, every inch, and he was glorious. He watched her look at him for a minute, letting her look her fill, and then he bent and kissed her neck while she was pinned under him. “You’re very wet,” he said in her ear.

“I’m on the pill,” she rasped.

“Are you?” He kissed along the soft edge of her jaw, then the tender flesh where it met her neck. “You know we can’t catch diseases.”

She ran her hands up his arms, feeling the muscles like rocks where he held himself above her, running her palm over his wolf tattoo. “I know.”

He made a
hmmm
sound against her skin, and then he pressed against her, his hardness against her wet softness, his big body a heavy weight on hers. She shuddered, and he did it again. “Do you have something to say to me?” he asked in her ear.

“Please,” she said. “
Please.

“Begging is good,” Ian said, her alpha wolf. “I like it.” And then he slid into her in one long thrust.

It was good. So good. They moved together in perfect rhythm, his muscled body on hers, her knees up and clasped around him, her back arched beneath him. Though he was in control, making sure she was pleased, she could feel how hard he moved, how short his breath came. The pleasure was hitting him, its intensity feeding hers as his arms flexed and his body pounded into her. She let go and let the sensations wash over her, and she came, bucking up against him, making him come too as he grasped her, both of them in sync again.

When they came down he still lay on top of her, and she felt his fingers trace along her collarbone, the line of her neck. She kept her legs wrapped around his hips, unwilling to let him go. He smelled so incredibly good, felt so incredibly good. He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder and she heard his intake of breath. He was smelling her.

“Do I smell like you?” she asked him.

He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. “Yes, but that’s not what I’m after.”

She ran a hand over his shoulder, the back of his neck. “What are you after?”

“Trust,” he said, running his thumb over her collarbone and dipping his head to brush his lips along her neck. “Relaxation. Arousal. Desire. Satisfaction.”

She closed her eyes at the hypnotic rumble of his voice. “You can smell all of that?”

His laugh was a vibration deep in his chest. “Yes.”

“Oh, my God,” she sighed.

Ian moved over her, and she opened her eyes again to see those amazing green eyes staring into hers. “Do you want more?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she said.

“Good,” he said, smiling. “We have all night.”

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