Wolf Tracker (21 page)

Tracker looked directly into her eyes when he made his last vow in unison with the other men. “I swear to keep you safe even if I have to die to do it. I will never raise my hand to you or do anything to hurt you. You, as my mate, will be my best friend and most precious treasure for the rest of my days.”

A few yards away a new voice joined that chorus. Tami looked through her tears at Stag, holding Sherry’s hand and making that vow in a loud voice to her hunched shoulders and averted face. Tami wasn’t sure which of them she felt more sorry for, Sherry for being trapped like that or Stag for Sherry’s rejection.

When Tracker produced an old gold band set with three diamonds for the blessing, Tami was surprised and touched. She didn’t know if he would have a ring. But all the bridegrooms did. The ceremony was almost over. The priest said the magic words and Tracker kissed her lightly, chastely. It was done. They were man and wife.

*

It was done! Tami was his wife. Tracker ate the roast venison Renee had prepared with relish. The seasonings on the meat were strange to him, but he liked it almost as much as he liked the scent of his wife sitting next to him. He could see her temple and cheek out of the corner of his eye and remembered tracing a pencil drawing of her eyebrow by the light of a campfire. Now he could touch the real thing. But not here, in front of all the Pack. He was pretty sure Tami would prefer privacy. But tonight, in her room, he would touch her eyebrow with not just his finger but also his lips. His lips would caress every part of her body. He tried to calm his heated blood by focusing on the others at the tables.

He felt a twinge of sympathy for Stag, sitting beside the mate who rejected him. Stag had brought the woman to the weddings in hopes of coaxing her to accept him. But she hadn’t. Though they were sitting only inches apart Sherry paid as much attention to Stag as if he were a two-day ride away. That had to hurt.

The woman who had commanded the plane sat with Des. When Des had told Taye that afternoon he was going to live with his intended wife in Kearney and head up his own pack, Taye had nodded and asked if Connie was his mate.

Des was solemn. “Yeah, Chief, but see, Connie always said she didn’t ever want to get married. I tried to accept it. I tried to keep my distance, honest. But with Dickinson making trouble, I had to do something. We made a deal, me and Connie. She would marry me, and I would make sure none of her ladies got bothered by any man. I’ll live there with Stag and Hawk and Red Wing and maybe a couple other wolves. But we’re still Clan and Pack, right?”

Taye gave his Beta a fierce embrace. “We’re cousins. Allies in peace and in war.”

Remembering that, Tracker looked at the woman who used to fly airplanes. She looked a little stiff, trying to keep a distance between her body and Des by sliding closer to Taye. Des kept trying to close the gap between them by moving closer to her. Soon Des’s mate would be sitting in Taye’s lap. Tracker doubted either the Lupa or Des would appreciate that. The woman’s pale blond hair was almost the same nearly-white color as the hair that lay loosely over his own shoulders. The bridegrooms had worn their hair loose because Taye had said it was traditional in ancient times in some distant place called medieval Europe for those getting married to wear their hair unbraided. It was supposed to be a sign of virginity, which wasn’t quite true for Tracker. But the four times he’d had sex with a woman he’d paid her for the privilege. He figured tonight would be the first time he would make love. Tracker had never heard of the custom of wearing the hair loose for a wedding, but Taye had read it in a bunch of those love stories he liked to read. Tracker didn’t like it, himself. His unbound hair blocked his view and got in the way. But every now and then he saw Tami look at it admiringly, so he left it loose for her.

How long until he and Tami could slip away to her room? This afternoon in the sweat lodge, Taye had explained to all of them that women needed to be petted and kissed in order to find pleasure, and that they, the bridegrooms, should be sure their brides found pleasure before they did. Then he had described for them in detail where and how to touch their mates’ bodies to make sure that happened. All of the men were anxious to put Taye’s teaching to use. Tracker forced himself to patience as the meal wound down and everyone seemed to want to chat forever. It was full dark now, and all the bridegrooms seemed to have the same idea at the same time. They stood up from the supper table and took their brides firmly by the hand. The unmated wolves all raised a howl to serenade them down the hall as they left.

Tracker closed the door of Tami’s room behind them with a push of his heel and set the lantern down on the table without letting go of Tami’s hand. It was a strong hand used to work, with rough skin on the back and calluses on the palm. It trembled ever so slightly as he gave it a gentle tug and pulled his new wife close. Last night the Grandmother had given him advice in handling Tami and he used it now.

“Tami, if I go too fast or scare you, let me know.” He lifted his free hand and at last traced her eyebrow, just as he’d wanted to do at supper. “I want this to be good for you.”

She twined his hair through her fingers. “It will be, Tracker.” She pulled his head down and kissed him. “Just be gentle.”

He would be gentle. Whatever she wanted, he would give her. He dropped her hand to wrap both arms around her and brushed his lips across hers. The precious scent that had clung to a torn scrap of fabric he’d carried so close to his skin filled his nostrils now, fresh and sweet, free of fear. He inhaled against her neck. Her scent made him happy. He wanted to think about that for minute. He was never unhappy, but that wasn’t the same as this feeling. But when her hands smoothed up his arms under his hair to knead his shoulders and he felt her breasts press against his chest, a jolt went through him, knocking any thought about his state of happiness out of his mind. The scent he loved sharpened, shaded by something else. Something hot and spicy and arousing. Last night the Grandmother had told him to go slow with Tami, but he couldn’t, not with that scent assaulting him. Instead of the soft, chaste kisses he had given her in the past he opened his mouth over hers and devoured her. Her tongue met his without hesitation or shyness, making him iron hard. Her arms clenched around his neck, forcing him closer.

“Tami.” He dragged his mouth free. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“I don’t reckon I can go slow.”

She ran her open fingers through the length of his hair, making him glad it was loose for her to pet. “Then don’t.”

But he would try. For her sake he would be careful with her. Her hands left his shoulders and went to the buttons of the shirt he had borrowed from one of his cousins. Every brush of her knuckles over his skin made him want to shudder with the strength of his lust. He was amazed his own fingers didn’t shake when he reached for the buttons on her dress. He didn’t pay much attention to women’s clothes, but the dress was pretty. It was dark green, with wooden buttons that went from the high neck to the ankle-length hem. He’d be careful with the buttons, so he didn’t damage the dress. As he carefully slid the button through its buttonhole, he remembered sitting in Leach’s living room, holding a delicate, breakable teacup the mayor had claimed his wife treasured. Liar.

But Leach was only a memory. What was real and true was Tami’s hand sliding inside his half-opened shirt to rub up and down his chest, petting the fine blond hair that grew there. What was real and true was the sight of Tami’s breasts when he spread the lapels of her dress open, still half-concealed behind shiny white fabric with a tiny pink bow over her heart. He was trying hard to control his eagerness, but when she shrugged her shoulders and the dress slipped to her waist he felt the need inside him lunge forward. Like a dog tied to a stake in the ground that had run out of rope, the need stopped short of pouncing on her and tearing the dress away. But it was close. He clenched his fists and took a half-step back.

“Take it off,” he whispered hoarsely. “I don’t want to rip it.”

That hot and spicy scent thickened. A flush stained her pale cheeks. He wondered if she were embarrassed. Or scared? He sniffed. No, he smelled no fear. She unfastened a few more buttons, then let the dress fall to the floor, leaving her wearing only that odd bit of shiny fabric over her breasts and tiny white shorts. Tracker stared at her nearly bare body, fascinated by the long legs, leanly muscled, and the place at the top of them concealed by the white shorts.

“I want to touch you,” he breathed. “Can I?”

“Sure, as soon as you get undressed, too.”

He made quick work of stripping off his borrowed shirt and jeans and kicking them against the wall. Unlike his new bride, he wore no undergarments, so when he turned back to her his erection was unhidden. She was looking at his body as hungrily as he looked at hers.

“Now can I touch you?” he asked.

In answer she reached her hands out to him. “Come here. I want to touch you, too.”

She could touch him anywhere she wanted to. Tracker memorized her body with featherlight fingers gliding over her skin. She merely rested her hands over his shoulders, letting him pet her. After a gentle, thorough inventory, he let his fingers hook into the strap that went over her shoulder.

“Tami, time for this to come off.”

She fumbled behind her back for a second, and the shiny white garment slithered down her arms. She tossed it away, and stood still to let him look his fill. Her perfect breasts, firm and round, had pink nipples crinkled into hard tips. The pale skin was gilded by the low glow of the lamp. The need that roared like a wild animal inside him drove him to take her breast into his mouth and suck. She shuddered and gasped into his shoulder.

He lifted his head in alarm. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. I love that. Don’t stop. Please, Tracker, keep doing exactly that.”

He did. Taye had said female breasts and nipples were especially sensitive. He sucked and nibbled until he was almost crazy and Tami was panting. This was not what it had been like with the women whose bodies he had hired. With them, he had paid his money, gone into their rooms, where they were waiting naked and spread on the bed, and he had knelt between their legs and worked himself inside them until he went off. They had not kissed or caressed him, and he had no idea if they had experienced any pleasure. Petting and kissing took more time, and cost more. Tracker had never had enough money for the extras. But Taye’s detailed instructions on pleasing his bride were in the front of his mind, only slightly hazy from the urgent desire that was fighting his control. Tracker was resolved to give Tami pleasure so he forced his own desire back to take the time to pet her. At first he had been disappointed she hadn’t done more than stroke his chest and shoulders. But then he realized it was just as well. Her touch on his cock or balls might have sent him over the edge. Later, after she’d had her pleasure, he’d ask her to pet him as he was petting her.

He avoided the area between her legs until the scent of her arousal was a storm in his nose. Then he eased his hand into the tiny white shorts that covered her most private place. The fabric stretched, and he realized it was the same sort of fabric Leach had given him to use to track Tami. She widened her legs to make room for his fingers stroking through soft curly hair coated with slick warmth. She was clutching his shoulders now, breathing heavily. He was breathing hard, too, wondering if he should lay her down on the bed now.

“Tracker,” she breathed. “Touch me. Inside. Please.”

His finger slid back and forth along the liquid desire seeping from her slit. The thought came to him suddenly she was his wife. He had the right to touch her like this. Fierce joy drove his kiss. She kissed him back, shoving impatiently at the shorts, to push them down her legs and kick them off. Then she leaned on him and raised one leg to hook it around his thigh. She was open wide for him now and his finger slid a little way inside her. Her breath caught. He growled at the slick heat of her desire that eased him inside her.

“More,” she groaned, moving her hips urgently. “That feels wonderful.”

Slowly, with iron control gentling his fingers, he slipped one deeply inside her. Taye had told all of them about this, and he followed Taye’s instructions on how to move so the heel of his hand would grind against the part of her Taye had called her clitoris. She strained against his hand with need stiffening her body and pulling her muscles tight. The little noises she was making were driving him crazy, but he kept on until she released her breath in a choked moan and fell limply against him, her body drenching his hand with her juices. He held her close with a proud smile. He had pleasured her; now he could take his own pleasure.

Her skin, he realized, was soft and smooth and cold. The stove kept the air comfortably warm for him, but she was pure human.

“You cold? Why didn’t you say so?”

Her breath, blowing hot and fast over his upper arm, began to slow. “I didn’t really notice it.”

He picked her up and carried her to the bed. “Sorry. I forgot you’d get cold. Under the covers.”

She slid over to make room for him. To crawl in beside her gave him the same feeling of exaltation he felt when he found some precious lost item. He had held back and forced himself to patience so she would be pleasured, but now he could release the death grip he’d had on his lust and satisfy himself in her long, lean body.

He rolled on top of her, thrilling at the feel of his body pressing hers into the feather tick. This was his wife. His Tami. He wanted her with every breath he forced in and out of his lungs, with every pulse of blood that throbbed in his erect flesh. For the last month he had ignored this need because she hadn’t belonged to him. But now she did. She had given him the right to cover and invade her naked body with his when she’d said, “I do.”

His hand was very brown gripping her smooth white shoulder. His other hand fumbled between them to part her legs to open her for him. He could feel her strain, the stiffness in her legs tangled with his. She had been like that a minute ago while she’d ridden his hand so urgently. He kissed her hard, grasping his cock to guide it to that slippery notch between her legs. He inhaled deeply to take the scent of her pleasure into his lungs and heart.