Page 15 of Taming the White Wolf
Devlin started to end the call then hesitated. “I think a woman is the lure.” It made so much sense. He’d been drawn to Zoe from the start. How much of that attraction was natural and how much had been magically manipulated?
“A woman?” The gray wolf sounded incredulous.
“One who shares some of your distinctive coloring. One who belongs to you on some instinctive level. One you’ll protect at any cost.”
“Fuck no. That’ll never happen. I’ll never care for or trust a woman that much.”
A few days ago, he would’ve said the same thing. “You won’t have a choice.” He ended the call and tossed the phone down. He had a lot to think about, decisions to make. Before he did any of that, he needed a shower and sleep.
He stripped off his clothes and rolled his shoulders to loosen the tight muscles. Naked, he padded to the bathroom, stepped into the shower, and turned on the taps. Leaning forward, he closed his eyes and pressed his hands against the tiles. Water cascaded over his head and back, washing away the sweat and grime of the past couple of days—washing away the faint scent of Zoe from his skin.
Like pages from a book, pictures of her flipped through his brain. His favorite was of her in the bright yellow blouse, eyes closed in ecstasy as she took a bite of the chocolate treat he’d bought her. Or maybe it was the one of her in the club outside the bathroom where he’d first kissed her.
His eyes snapped open. Doing his best to ignore his dick, which was standing at attention, he quickly washed and rinsed. His stomach growled as he rubbed a towel over his body. The cherry Danishes had staved off the worst of the hunger and would hold him a while longer. Right now, sleep was more important than food.
No need to set an alarm. His wolf would wake him in a couple of hours. He’d eat then and be back at her place before the sun went down. Whatever was going on between them, there was a rogue to hunt.
Lying on the bed, his shaft flexed. “Forget it. I’m not jerking off.” It wasn’t that he didn’t. Wolves had a high sex drive, and he was a loner by nature. He’d had plenty of long, lonely nights. But Zoe was no nameless, faceless woman. His hand was no substitute for the real thing.
He wanted to be buried inside her, her inner muscles squeezing him tight. Her breath on his face, her moans of pleasure echoing in his ears. Heart racing and lungs heaving, his hips bucked once. Twice. The third time, his balls clenched, and his release shot out of his cock and onto his stomach. Groaning, he flung his arm over his face.
Fuck, he hadn’t lost control like that since he was a teenager. On a growl of frustration, he rolled off the bed and went into the bathroom. Grabbing the used towel, he cleaned himself up and flung it into the shower. His cock was still fully erect. As a wolf, he could go all night with barely a break. Skin itching, fur rippled over his arms. “Not now.” The beast wanted out, wanted to run back to Zoe’s side and protect her.
Throwing himself back down on the bed, he closed his eyes and sought sleep.
Chapter Six
Zoe dozed fitfully, finally giving up and dragging herself out of bed two hours later. There was too much spinning in her brain to allow her to rest. She looked around her apartment. Nothing had changed, yet everything felt different. She was different.
“This is my home.” It wasn’t much by most people’s standards, but it was hers. The framed posters on the walls had come from the Salvation Army Thrift Store in Hell’s Kitchen. The brass daybed frame had been free on the sidewalk. She’d dragged it down the street and up the stairs herself. The mattress she’d bought new. The desk had been in the apartment when she’d moved in, but she liked it and it had been free, so it stayed. Every dish, every piece of clothing had a story. Growing up in foster care, all those choices had been made for her.
Walking to the window, she peered outside, swallowing her disappointment when she didn’t see Devlin. “You can’t have it both ways.” She’d told him to leave her alone. He was honoring her request. The ache in her chest grew.
Alone, she could admit she’d fought so hard when he’d woken her from her nightmare because a part of her had wanted to throw herself into his arms. Having his strong, hard body against hers and hearing his deep voice utter reassurances had soothed her fears, allowing her to recover faster than she would’ve on her own. When he’d left, the emptiness had almost swallowed her whole.
Outside, everyone was going about their lives—laughing and crying, loving and hating, worrying and being carefree. The city was as alive and vibrant as it had been yesterday and the day before and last week. She was the one who’d been altered.
This wouldn’t do. She wasn’t about to mope over Devlin…or Brenda. Her former friend was barely a thought, shoved aside by the magnitude of realizing she’d never see Devlin again.
She had a job she loved, a small savings account, a home she’d created. The only thing that needed fixing was her attitude. “If I’m going to change, it’s damn well going to be for the better.” The sun was still heating the sidewalks. Sirens, horns, and voices drifted through the screen in the open window. This was her city, damn it. No one was going to steal her joy of living here.
She scooped up her keys, jammed her feet into her sneakers, and grabbed her purse. Her shirt was wrinkled from her earlier nap, but she didn’t care. She needed fresh air and sunshine and space to think. A cloud passed over the sun, casting a shadow. It was quickly dispelled, but it gave her stomach a slight twist.
“You can’t control anybody else, only yourself.” It was something she’d learned a long time ago. Still, she grabbed a light sweater, colder than she’d been seconds before.
…
Lying on top of the covers, Devlin stared up at the plain white ceiling. A door opened and closed down the hallway. Wheels squeaked as a cart or suitcases were rolled across the carpet. The hum of the air conditioner blocked out most of the outside noise. Cold air wafted over him but did little to cool his ardor.
Magic and manipulation or instinct, it didn’t matter. He wanted Zoe Galvani.
“Fuck.” Rolling to his side, he grabbed his phone and checked the time. It was almost four hours since he’d seen her, heard her voice.
Giving up the pretense of trying to sleep, he climbed out of bed, padded to the window, and surveyed the area. His eighth-floor room gave him a decent vantage point. It was also a safety feature. If necessary, he could go through the window. Any higher and he’d likely hurt himself when he hit the ground. It wouldn’t kill him—not unless he somehow managed to decapitate himself. But any injury would take precious minutes, hours, or possibly days to heal. In his business, every second counted.
The late afternoon traffic was heavy, the sidewalks choked with people. Somewhere out there, a rogue prowled, a wolf among sheep waiting to strike. Right now, he was probably holed up, counting down the minutes until nightfall.
Restless, Devlin quickly dressed. By the time he pulled on his boots his mood had pushed past edgy into worry. Rather than wait for the hotel elevator, he took the stairs.
