Season of the Wolf (BBW Holiday Romance) Read online

  Not one to normally linger in the shower anyway, she was through in record time. Grabbing the towel from the back of the toilet where she’d placed it, she dried off quickly than twisted it around her head, hoping to absorb as much water from her hair as possible. She loved her long locks, but they were a pain in the butt to dry. Especially during winter. In the summer months, she could pull her hair back in a ponytail and not worry about it the rest of the day.

  She quickly washed out her bra and panties and slipped the long-sleeved t-shirt back on. She didn’t know exactly what Jason’s feelings toward her might be, but she knew he wanted her. The deep flare of desire in his eyes as he warned her to have an answer before he returned hadn’t been faked. Nor had the telling arousal beneath the thin material of his pajama bottoms. Men might be able to charm a woman into believing he had true feelings for her, but it was extremely difficult to pretend you desired a woman. A man’s body would always tell the truth.

  Jason’s head jerked up as he heard a squeak from the cabin. His first instinct was to throw down his ax and rush inside. He would have if he hadn’t heard the sound of water running as well. She was in the shower. He grinned because he knew from experience the hot water in the cabin was never truly hot.

  He looked around and realized he’d chopped at least a half cord of wood. He put down the ax and stacked the logs neatly under the overhang at the side of the cabin used to store the wood out of the weather. He’d give her enough time to get out of the shower, dry off, and then she was his. Thinking of her still warm from the shower skin had his pajama bottoms tenting out in front of him. Damn, he must look like a randy teenager, unable to control his pre-pubescent hormones.

  Priscilla was definitely sexy enough to make a wolf of any age howl. He gathered up the last armful of logs and placed them neatly on top of the rest of the wood. He smiled to himself. He’d cut enough wood to last all winter. Thinking of spending the entire winter snowed in with Priscilla made his heart race. He cocked his head listening for her movements inside the cabin. Even though he ached to join her under the hot spray of the water, he needed her to stay in the bathroom just a little while longer.

  He had a Christmas surprise for his mate.

  Priscilla’s hair was dry and shiny by the time Jason stepped back inside. She stood by the fireplace dressed in her borrowed shirt. She watched with big, wide eyes as he removed his shoes and coat, but left his flannel shirt on. In that nervous little habit he already recognized, she bit her lip as he walked further into the room. He promised himself he’d put those lips to much better use later.

  “I thought you might be hungry.” She gestured to the fireplace where the small black kettle hung from the long hook inside. The fire had died down, but was still going strong.

  He frowned, thinking how very easily she could have burned herself. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  Her lips trembled and he groaned silently. He’d forgotten how important it was to communicate fully with a mate. Not talk in short, snappy sentences he was used to delivering to his pack mates. “I meant you might have burned yourself.”

  She smiled and he thought her beauty could rival even the night sky during a full moon.

  “I wasn’t sure what you wanted and there wasn’t much to choose from. I made soup.”

  “Soup is fine.”

  “You were gone a long time; I thought you’d be hungry.”

  “I am.”

  He prowled toward her, an animal on the hunt and she suddenly realized she was the prey. She couldn’t prevent that instinctive step away. Damn, Jason silently cursed and changed his course. With practiced ease, he removed the kettle from the hook and placed it on the brick ledge in front of the fireplace, trying to calm down. She was human. A small, fragile human who knew nothing of shifters and certainly nothing of wolf mating. He needed to slow down.

  He stayed crotched for so long, Priscilla became nervous.

  “Where’s your socks?” For the first time he noticed she was standing on the cold, bare floor without the socks he had given her earlier. He’d been too enthralled with the sight of her long bare legs. Too overwhelmed with her warm, spicy-sweet scent. Too busy trying desperately not to drag her to the floor and take her in one, long, cock searing thrust.

  She rolled her eyes. Just when she was getting her seduction on, he was becoming all logical and practical. “I didn’t think I should wear them.”

  He rose to his feet and came to stand beside her. His large, muscular frame crowded hers, but it felt good. Right.

  “Whatever I have is yours.”

  Talk about your heartfelt expression. The truth and sincerity of his gaze stabbed straight through her, landing directly in her heart.

  She became bold in the knowledge that this man wanted her. She let all other thoughts flow from her mind. Her study, their snowbound situation, the insecurities from her past. She closed the small space that separated them, stopping only when her breasts brushed against the plaid fabric of his shirt. She raised one hand, tracing a small circle above the pocket, right over his heart. “I, mmm, didn’t put them back on because I didn’t want it to be awkward when I took them off.”

  “You shouldn’t take them off if your feet are cold.”

  She huffed. Apparently, she had no seduction skills. “I didn’t want to be wearing socks when we had sex. Okay?”

  She pulled back, angry that she’d had to spell it out for him. She hadn’t taken a full step back before his arm snaked out to wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against him. “I don’t care what you wear to bed, sweetheart, because as soon as you’re there, it’s all coming off.” He gave her a wicked look that had her toes curling. “And I promise the experience of me taking off your socks would be one you’d never forget.”

  “Oh, really?” One fine eyebrow arched, enjoying the banter even though the air was shimmering with growing sexual tension. “What about taking off my shirt?”

  Before she could blink, she found herself held high against his chest, his big arms wrapped around her as he carried her to the bed. He stopped by the side, surprising her. She’d expected to be thrown down. And ravished. Or at least that’s what she’d hoped. His face held such a serious expression, she wondered if she had misconstrued everything. Her body tensed. She might have a very long and lengthy academic background, but when it came to sex and relationships between a man and woman, her knowledge base was very limited.

  His smile lightened the heavy feeling her heart. His next words surprised and delighted her. It was as if he had read her very thoughts. “Before I throw you on this bed and have my wicked way with you, I want to make one thing very clear to you, Priscilla Johnson. We will not be having sex. We will be making love.”

  It was statement of fact, not a question open for discussion.

  “I’ve never done that before,” she whispered softly.

  “Neither have I,” his voice rumbled sexily.

  He lowered her to bed and followed her down, his big body covering hers in a blanket of warmth so enveloping she swore she’d never be cold again.

  One hand settled on her hips, lifting her against him. She trembled, her body betraying her need. Slowly reaching up, she slid her hand around the back of his neck tugging him closer. His fingers tightened on her hip. She knew she’d forever regret the night if she didn’t take what she wanted. She wanted him. With that thought, she found the courage to put her mouth to the very corner of his.

  He held perfectly still as if afraid to move. She smiled against the roughened skin of his jaw. No fears tonight. Not for Priscilla Johnson. She had a wolf in her bed and she was going to enjoy every moment. The ball of desire that had filled her womb grew, spreading warmth throughout her body. She felt alive for the very first time in her life. To stroke the feeling into a full-blow fire, she opened her mouth and took his bottom lip between her teeth, biting down with enough force to make him growl. It was a warning from the beast she knew dwelled within, which should have stopped he
r, but something inside pushed, demanding that she continue. Before she could, he spoke.

  “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Priscilla’s heart dropped. Despite his reassurance that this was more to him than sex with a stranger, she knew this was a onetime thing, a moment-out-of-time-moment. Even realizing that, it still broke her heart that he felt it necessary to set out the parameters of their relationship in black and white terms. While the academic in her might appreciate such an approach, the romantic in her cried. He took her hand and guided it across his chest until she felt the scar she’d traced last night.

  “I was hurt hunting a rouge wolf.

  She didn’t know what he wanted her to say. The scars made no difference to her and if he thought they did, she was going to be seriously pissed. She opened her mouth to tell him when he stopped her.

  “I should have taken down the rouge quicker, faster. Not doing so left my pack vulnerable. I failed them.”

  Oh, now she was just mad. She pushed against his chest indicating she wanted to be released. He ignored her. “Did you get the rouge?” she demanded.

  “Not before he did some serious damage. I have other scars on my legs, my back, and my hip.”

  “But you got him? Prevented him from hurting anyone else?”

  “Yeah. But I–”

  “Hush,” she ordered, lifting her head to kiss him, hard and swift. “Would you have given your life for your pack, Jason?” Her heart clenched because she had no doubt he would have died before he let the rouge get away.

  “Yes.”

  “Then why do these scars bother you? You got the rouge. You protected your pack.”

  He grew quiet and she wondered what he was thinking. Priscilla’s mind was still reeling at the thought of him hurt, terribly hurt. From what she knew of shifter genetics, fast, efficient healing was at the very core of their makeup. For an injury to leave scars…How had he survived?

  Again, he seemed to read her mind and answer her unspoken question. “My family. As I was healing, they not only gave me their strength through our family bond, but they found a Native American shaman and a Celtic shaman who saw me through the worst of it. Without them, and my family, I wouldn’t have made it.”

  Her eyes filled with tears thinking this man might have left this world and she would never have known him.

  “Family is what matters, Priscilla.”

  She wanted to believe that so badly. “So why did the wolf go rouge, if a family can make such a difference?”

  Jason sighed and pulled her closer. With her belief in him, she’d erased the feelings of failures he’d been holding on to since the attack. Now he could see the wheels in her analytic mind turning, trying to predict the outcome of their joining even before it happened. Why the hell had he brought this up, now, when his cock was so swollen and tight just the pressure of the thin knit pajama bottoms was playing hell with his control? “Maybe he lost his family. Or never found his mate. A mate grounds a wolf. Makes him whole.”

  “Oh.”

  He waited for a fraction of a heartbeat before he spoke again, his destiny riding on her response to the question he asked next. “What if I were to tell you we’re mates?”

  “What?” She sounded like a chipmunk, all squeaky and sweet.

  He tilted her head back with a nudge of his fingertips so he could read her expression. The flare of awareness and hope in her eyes stroked his wolf. Aroused the man. He let all the love and devotion he felt for her shine in his eyes. Shine from his wolf. “You are my mate, Priscilla. I’ve waited for you all of my life.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m not. Your wolf is just reacting to our enforced confinement.”

  “Priscilla,” he growled.

  “It’s true. He’s horny.”

  She smiled invitingly, trying no doubt to distract him, but he could see the hint of sadness and longing in her eyes.

  “Just like me.” She reached out and stroked his face, her fingertips lingering on the rough stubble on his jaw. “What are you going to do about that?”

  He wanted to argue with her. Force her to admit she was his mate. That she felt the draw, same as him. Then she arched against him, her breasts pressing into his chest. Maybe the best thing to do was show her how much he needed her. Wanted her. Loved her.

  “Little witch,” he murmured against her lips. Then, “Priscilla,” on a strangled tone as she gave him what he wanted. She opened her lips and touched the top of her tongue to his and in doing so finally, finally, unleashed the beast.

  The heat of Jason’s lips burned Priscilla, changed her. She moaned against his mouth, heat exploding through her body. Fierce, harsh hunger tore through her. Her hands glided along his stomach up to his chest, pushing his shirt out of the way. Without thinking, her fingers caressed the hot flesh beneath the palms of her hands. Even though the temperature in the cabin was low, his body was as hot as a furnace. He acknowledged her action with a sharp, pleased intake of his breath.

  He dove headfirst into the kiss and wrapped his other arm around her. He opened his mouth wide for a deep, hot kiss that had her pussy burning and clenching all at the same time. She explored every inch she could of his magnificent body. His tight shoulders and solid chest. The hair there was soft, much softer than she’d expected. She wanted to feel it brush against her nipples.

  As if he could feel her needs, he arched away from her and stripped off his shirt and pants. Next, he pulled off her long sleeved shirt. He groaned as her body was revealed, minus her undergarments.

  “Damn it, woman.”

  His voice was so rough and broken she thought she just might come from the sound alone. That was until he cupped her breast in his big hand, rasping his thumb over her nipple.

  “Jason!” she cried out.

  “That’s right, baby, me,” he whispered against her lips. “You and me.” He lowered his chest until he touched her bare breasts. The soft mat of hair brushed across the turgid tips and she cried out again, her fingers clenching at his shoulders. He moved back and forth and Priscilla threw back her head, arching closer, demanding more.

  Jason leaned down and took her nipple in his mouth, licking it. “Mmmm.”

  She gasped. “I’m not your mate. I can’t be your mate.”

  “Yes, you are. Made especially for me.” His eyes grew brighter and hotter…so very, very hot. One long hand palmed the back of her head and he held her still for his plundering mouth. He fed her a deep, long, ravaging kiss and she lost herself in it, the man, and the wolf.

  His hand gripped her hip and he pulled her closer until the hard length of his cock pressed fully against her aching slit. Nothing separated them. They both groaned at the contact. She rubbed her body against his shamelessly and he soaked up the sounds of her need. He slipped his hand between them, his fingers finding her clit. He pressed against the bud rubbing against it roughly. She whimpered in pleasure. As he continued to caress her, his fingers found the entrance of her body. She’d had a man in her body before, but not like this, never like this. “Sssh,” he soothed her. “Just you and me. No one else.”

  Jason knew she wasn’t a virgin, and no right to expect that she was, but he wanted to obliterate every other man’s touch from her memory. He pushed his finger inside her, finding her wet. But not wet enough. Adding a second finger, he moved, thrusting them inside. “Wet, baby. I need you wet.” He bent his head and took one of her hardened nipples in his mouth. He sucked it, hard, almost painfully. As he did, he spread his fingers apart stretching her until she whimpered.

  He pulled away, placing the tip of his cock against her body. “I’ve been waiting for you all of my life.”

  Her heart melted as she felt and heard the animal in his voice. Their eyes met and he pushed inside her. Priscilla grasped at the intimate invasion. He was so big, she thought. It burned as he entered, but it was such a feeling of pleasure as well.

  Jason had known pleasure during his long life, but he’d never known this heigh
t of ecstasy. She was so damn tight he was afraid he’d hurt her. “Baby.”

  As if in one accord they moved together, he pressed forward and she lifted upwards. He sank inside a few more inches. His legs trembled holding back the urge just the thrust forward and take her, let his wolf ride her, mark her, claim her.

  “More,” she urged with another sharp uplift of her hips. “I need more.”

  The demand in her voice tore away the last anchors of his control. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips and he took her with one downward plunge of his hips as he shoved his cock inside her to the hilt. He was past being careful, cautious. His wolf had come out to play.

  He drew the hard line of his cock back out to push forward, hitting her clit with sharp deliberate motions. Again and again, he took her, groaning each time he touched the edge of her womb, thrusting, striving for the moment he could flood her with his seed.

  Priscilla felt the climax roar through her, shocking her with the swiftness and intensity. Never had she felt this before. Not with her previous two lovers or with her own hands. She cried out and he covered her mouth with his swallowing the sounds of her release. She clung to him as he devoured her mouth and pounded inside, stroking through the convulsing movements of her pussy. “That’s it, again baby.”

  “No,” she gasped, her nails biting into the flesh of his shoulders.

  “Yes,” he commanded. “Again.”

  He planted his arms on either side of her hips, hooking both of her legs over his elbows. The position opened her as never before. She cried out as he ground against her, his nostrils flaring, his body straining as he took her over and over again. “Now, Priscilla, come with me now.”

  Priscilla hands clung to him, her anchor in this storm. She focused on Jason, his face was a taunt mask of power and control. The tendons strained in his arms, veins bulged in his neck as he took her. The pleasure built and she actually thought she might pass out. “Can’t,” she said, moving her head from side to side. “Can’t.”