Wicked Cowboy Wolf Page 21

  Rogue headed toward the truck. “I thought you said he wasn’t a hog. He’s a teacup pig.”

  She waved a hand in dismissal. “Well, they’re cousins, distantly related at least.”

  “Says the vegetarian rancher.” He shook his head.

  “I’m no rancher. I just live with them, and you’ll thank me later,” she said. “Now hand me those buckets while you set up the trough.”

  Two hours and several trips out to the stable’s water pump later, both Rogue and Mae were covered in sweat and caked with a layer of dry dirt as they climbed into the truck. From the thick layer of humidity hanging in the air, they’d have rain before night’s end. All the more reason Rogue needed to hurry to the barn and get the square bales from the truck bed into the hayloft.

  Mae wiped a layer of sweat from her brow as he started the engine. “I don’t think I’ve done that much ranching work since I was a teen,” she said.

  “I’ll send someone out here to keep them watered,” he said, leaving the conversation at that. She’d been a quick and efficient worker, helping alongside him, but the last thing she needed from him was encouragement.

  An awkward silence passed between them as they rode out to the barn. He’d left it open in anticipation of loading the bales, but he’d need to close it since it wouldn’t be long before he lost sunlight.

  “This won’t take long,” he mumbled as he hightailed it from the truck. He was almost inside the barn when he heard the passenger door slam behind him.

  Shit.

  “Did I do something wrong?” Mae called after him.

  Her words froze him in place. He released a long breath through his nose, trying to calm himself as he turned toward her.

  She stood next to the truck, still in that godforsaken nightgown, a look of total innocence on her face as she cradled the damn pig in her arms. Everything about the situation, about her, should have struck him as ridiculous, but it didn’t. She didn’t. During every second he spent with her, she only proved herself less of a princess and more of a strong, resilient, passionate, creative woman any man in his goddamn right mind would want.

  Even a man like him.

  That thought only fueled his frustration. “How about the part where you revealed your identity to that piece-of-work cougar?” He picked the first thing that came to mind. Sure, the consequences of that had yet to bring any issues forth, but he knew it would rile her all the same.

  Mae gaped at him. “Last I checked, I didn’t reveal anything to him. He came to that conclusion on his own.”

  “You’re conveniently forgetting the part where you brought up your pack as if we were having a casual conversation.”

  “But I never said I was a Grey Wolf!”

  Rogue adjusted his Stetson as he turned away from her. “You might as well have.”

  “You’re only mad because your plan didn’t go your way.”

  The words stopped him in his tracks. “If you’d listened to me in the first place and stayed out of it, it would have gone my way.”

  Mae shook her head. “Not a chance. We’d still be in the same situation with no lead except a sociopath like Walker Solomon.”

  “You’re right, but at least then we wouldn’t be facing your pack with the vampires on our tails.”

  She set Tucker down. The piglet gave a muffled grunt before he wandered a few paces away, sniffing the ground in search of acorns. “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “You think that cougar kept such valuable information to himself? Think again. He’d likely already passed it on before you left the bar. Any advantage we had of no one knowing your location will soon be gone. Every supernatural in their right mind will be after us.”

  “And you’re suggesting that’s my fault?”

  “If the shoe fits, Princess.”

  Mae’s hands clenched into fists. “You’re insufferable! I don’t see why you’re complaining. I’m the one they’re after, and I’m the only one who will be forced to spend several more days with a criminal.”

  He sneered. “You didn’t seem to be singing that same tune outside the bar.”

  Mae’s jaw dropped. “You’re a pig.”

  “Well, we both know you have no problem keeping pigs in your bed.”

  Mae gasped. Her face flamed red in a look of pure fury. Good, let her be angry. Let her see what a beast he was. Maybe then she would stay away.

  Without a backward glance, Rogue headed into the barn, but from the sound of Mae’s footsteps scuffling behind him, she wasn’t letting him go that easily. He flicked on the overhead lamps, illuminating the darkness that crept in with the setting sun. He shook his head. Mae never made anything easy. Murtagh would have said that should remind him of someone, but he squashed that thought as quickly as it came. Sure, he was stubborn, but she made everything difficult.

  Not even ranching, the one thing that allowed him to lose track of time and escape, had been easy since she’d come crashing back into his life. His thoughts were too consumed with her, with the salty-sweet taste of her lips.

  They were nothing alike. They couldn’t be more different.

  She was perfect. A beautiful, privileged princess who lived a life of leisure and luxury. And him? He was the monster hiding in the shadows, the scarred hideous beast who’d clawed his way out of the pits of hell, his only weapons fury and rage.

  The sharp soprano of her voice cut through his thoughts. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” she demanded. “How I kissed you outside the Midnight Coyote?”

  Rogue ignored her. If he refused to give in, she’d eventually tire and leave him in peace. He climbed the ladder to the hayloft to lower the pulley, but she followed him, clamoring into the loft as if she weren’t wearing only her nightclothes.

  As he reached the pulley, the loud sound of her stomping her foot echoed throughout the barn. “Answer me, damn it,” she swore. “You can’t kiss me until I’m weak in the knees and then expect me to forget it.”

  Weak in the knees?

  No. Rogue gripped the pulley rope, crushing it beneath his fist. He couldn’t look at her. Not now. Not if he expected to hold himself together.

  “God knows I’ve tried to forget, but I can’t,” she confessed. “I can’t even be in the same room with you without hoping you’ll have mercy on me and kiss me again.”

  He stiffened, the muscles of his back writhing as he fought to hold himself in place. The knowledge she was just as affected by what was between them threatened to rip him in two.

  But it’s not you she wants. Not Jared. It’s the Rogue, his mind taunted. The lie, the persona. The darkened part of himself he showed to the world, not his true self.

  “You said when you kissed me and it meant something, I’d know it.” Her voice broke as she spoke, tearing him to shreds. “Well, I’m sorry, but I know that I mean something to you. I…I know I sound ridiculous. It’s just…when I’m with you, I feel strong, powerful, and I…” Her voice cracked again as if she were fighting back tears. “I know I’m not the most desirable woman out there, but—”

  He rounded on her. He was about to tell her exactly how ludicrous that was. Whoever had put that ridiculous thought in her head deserved to be drawn and quartered for their lies. But as he faced her, Rogue found his boots were suddenly frozen in place. His cock stiffened even as the rest of him proved immobile. The way the overhead lights were positioned, her nightgown was illuminated underneath the hem, making the material see-through. She was naked underneath, open and bare. Her nude silhouette cast a tantalizing shadow, but he could see every inch of her. The fleshy peach color of her taut nipples, the delicate curve of her slender hips, and the smooth cleft between her legs.

  He wanted to bury himself there, to drown in the taste of her against his tongue as she screamed for him. In an instant, he no longer gave two flying fucks that he was the villain. If
she wanted the Rogue, he’d give that side of himself to her. Let her hate him when all was said and done. But for now, if he wanted her, he’d have her.

  “And what do you want me to say, Princess?” His voice thickened, turning into a low, purring growl. “That I’m haunted by the thought of your lips pressed against mine?” Slowly, he prowled toward her, unable to hold himself a second longer. “That the thought of your tight little body pressed against me keeps me awake at night?” He stood next to her now, close enough to see the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way those peach nipples puckered. She stared at him with those wide, innocent green eyes that he could drown in.

  Rogue reached out and fingered the edge of her nightgown just above her breast. He would suck and tease those taut nipples until she was bucking against him. His eyes flashed to his wolf’s. “Do you want me to tell you that not even my own hand can satisfy the ache?” he whispered.

  Mae drew in a sharp breath as his hand dipped to her breast, his fingers rolling her nipple between his fingers. A small moan escaped her lips.

  He released her, putting her in control. “Take your pleasure.”

  Her eyes grew wide at the offer. She hesitated, and for a moment, he thought she might not be daring enough until slowly she eased toward him. Her small hands pressed against the planes of his chest, and she leaned in toward him. Her lips brushed and hovered near his, featherlight and tentative.

  He gripped the nape of her neck. “Like you mean it,” he growled.

  She threw herself at him then, arms wrapping around his neck with a force that knocked his Stetson from his head. Her lips slammed against his, hungry, desperate—wild. This was a woman who knew what she wanted and exactly how to take it. Rogue smirked against her lips. She’d said she felt dangerous in his arms, and she was right. This was a woman made dangerous with freedom, with desire.

  And he reveled in it.

  Rogue gripped her by her neck with one hand, his fingers knotting in the base of her hair as the other hand settled onto the tight curve of her ass. He lifted her into his arms. Her legs wrapped around him, locking behind his lower back. She tasted like berries, deliciously sweet and tart as his tongue crashed against hers. They were all hands, both of them grabbing, stroking, touching as he pulled the hem of her nightgown over her head.

  He cast the damn thing aside and gripped her bare ass cheeks in his hands. A small moan escaped her mouth, and he growled in response. He’d spread her wide open, leave her bucking and screaming for him until the sounds of her pleasure echoed throughout the barn.

  One of the already loaded bales had fallen open, leaving a scattering of hay covering the hard wooden floor of the loft. He laid her out there, positioning himself over her as she tore his shirt over his head. Her hands explored the skin of his chest, exploring, feeling.

  “Tell me what you need, Mae,” he growled.

  He ran a hand up her thigh as he parted her legs. She was gorgeous, pink and bare. She was wet for him, already glistening with desire. Fuck.

  “Do you want me to pin you against this floor and fuck you till you’re screaming my name?” It would be the name of the monster he’d become, not his true name, but Rogue couldn’t bring himself to care. He gripped one of her hands in his, leading it down until he pressed it against the rock-hard length of him. He was straining against his jeans. She bit her lower lip, running her hand over the bulge of his cock.

  “Or is it my mouth you want?” He lowered his head until he dipped down between her legs, his lips brushing over her bare cleft. “Pick your poison,” he growled against her pussy.

  “I…” Her voice was a breathy, panting moan. “I want…” She bucked her hips forward, brushing against the heat of his mouth. He’d wanted to taste the sweet heat between her thighs from the moment he’d heard her moaning at the feel of her own hand.

  She released a frustrated sigh that was part need, part amused anger. Her eyes flashed golden. “I want your mouth on me.”

  A wicked grin crossed Rogue’s lips. “Good girl.”

  Chapter 17

  Heat. White-hot and blinding. Mae felt it from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and she couldn’t get enough. She bucked her hips forward as Rogue drew her clit into his mouth. His tongue fanned over her, scorching her from the inside out. He’d lit a fire inside her, leaving her helpless with pleasure, and all she could do was enjoy the burn.

  If she’d thought kissing him had made her wild and dangerous, that was nothing compared to the feel of his mouth between her legs. She buried her hands in his hair. The shaved sides contrasted with the dark, silky locks at his crown. To bring a man like this—a dark, powerful wolf—to his knees…

  It made her feel alive, powerful.

  Free.

  His tongue circled and massaged her clit as his hand ran up the inside of her thigh. He eased two fingers inside her cleft, still refusing to release her from his mouth. The tip of one of his canines gently grazed her most sensitive flesh, and a gasp tore from her lips. The sweet push of his fingers as his tongue licked, teased, and sucked was almost too much. A familiar pressure built inside her.

  Her eyes widened. Pleasure built inside her, but she wasn’t certain she could take it. She was on the brink of losing herself.

  He raised his head from between her legs, releasing her with a feral growl. “Is it fucking with a wolf like me you want, Princess, or plain vanilla sex with the lights off?” The vulgarity of the question thrilled her. His tongue flicked over his chin to lick what remained of her sex away. As if he not only tolerated the taste of her but enjoyed it.

  Mae could scarcely breathe. “You,” she whispered. “I want you.”

  He cast her a dark grin from between her thighs, the mischief in his wolf eyes sparking like liquid fire. “Then I won’t be denied, Mae.”

  He pushed into a plank position before he stood.

  “What are you doing?” Mae panted.

  He walked over to the black pulley rope for the hayloft and gripped it in his hands. His eyes darkened with mischief.

  Mae’s eyes darted between him and the rope. A thrill of shock and excitement shot through her. “You can’t be serious,” she said.

  “Can’t I?”

  Mae felt herself slicken as she bit her lower lip. Her hand trailed to her own breast as she kneaded the tip of her nipple. A hungry growl tore from his lips. She wanted him, all of him. The dark and the light. Slowly, she stood, crossing the hayloft toward him. There was something more vulnerable about standing in front of him fully nude that caused her breath to hitch.

  “Good girl,” he purred.

  Within seconds, he had her in his arms, wrapping the cords of the pulley rope around her wrists until her hands were secured above her head. He dropped to his knees, gripping her bare ass with both hands until he’d spread her wide.

  “Any last words, Princess?” he teased. A devious grin crossed his lips.

  She shook her head. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. “You’re wicked,” she said.

  His eyes filled with dark promise. “You’ll be glad about it.” His mouth was on her again in seconds, his tongue licking and teasing—and this time, she had no escape.

  He released her. The heat of his breath danced over her sensitive skin. “Fuck,” he swore. “You taste sweeter than honey.”

  As the sweet pressure built again, she trembled until her toes curled. He slipped his fingers inside, curling them forward and pushing against a spot inside her she hadn’t realized existed.

  “Rogue!” she cried out.

  Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her as she climaxed against his tongue.

  As the last of her orgasm raked through her, she slumped against her hangings. Immediately, he stood, releasing the knot at her wrists. She sank against him.

  He cradled her in his arms. As his eyes faded from his wolf’s to t
hat icy blue, she cupped her hand over his cheek, her fingertips brushing over the rough skin of his scars. There was longing in his eyes, a look so pained, but it was gone within an instant, replaced with the hardened look of a dark, feral wolf.

  He released her, leaving her standing in the hayloft again, weak-kneed and sated.

  She stared up at him before she sighed and closed her eyes. “That was—”

  She started to tell him exactly how amazing that had been, how she’d never climaxed so hard in her life, but then her balled-up nightgown landed across her stomach. She caught it, and her eyes shot open.

  He was standing on the other side of the hayloft, tugging his shirt back on.

  “Rogue?” she said.

  He didn’t look at her, but she watched as his shoulders tensed. “Please don’t call me that. Not now.”

  Mae blinked. “Where are you going?”

  He picked his Stetson up off the floor and tipped it back onto his head. “I told you, Princess. I don’t do romance.”

  “I know, but I thought—”

  He faced her then. She wasn’t sure what emotion she’d expected to see from him, but certainly not the hurt that was there.

  “You thought what?” he asked. “That another taste of you would change things?”

  Heat flamed in her cheeks. She clutched her nightgown to her chest, suddenly feeling far too naked. “That’s not it at all.”

  “Isn’t it? You’ve had your fun. A walk on the wild side with a dark, mysterious rogue. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? An escape from the dull life you live.”

  Mae stiffened.

  He stepped even closer, the sound of his boots hitting hard against the wooden flooring. “Tell me, Princess, do you intend to take a wolf like me back to Wolf Pack Run with you? What would your packmates think as you parade me around your little ranch home? What would your brother say when he finds out that the man he calls his enemy is now fucking his sister?”

  Mae didn’t know how to answer.

  “Would you tell him?”

  Mae struggled to find the answer. “No,” she finally managed. “No, I wouldn’t it. But that doesn’t mean I’m ashamed of—”