Lana shrank back, every muscle rigid, when the wolf stopped in front of her. She sucked in a breath while it leaned close and pressed its snout to her hair. Its breath was hot and damp as it scented her deeply. The urge to fight or run was undeniable, but both ideas were buried beneath her utter shock.
“Please don’t hurt him,” she whispered when it pulled back and growled. “Don’t hurt me.”
The animal backed off and began to shake oddly. Fur stood up all over its body, and as it retreated, it rose up on hind legs. Lana pressed herself tighter to the hot flesh behind her and gawked at the impossible.
The wolf’s limbs lengthened as its fur pulled back to expose bare flesh, and out from within the dark wolf stepped a human male. He was as naked and magnificent as the man she was trying to protect, although the two looked nothing alike. This man was clearly Native American, with dark, glittering eyes and a mane of glossy, black hair that hung loose behind him. A scar ran diagonally from his collar bone across a smooth, powerful chest, but a more intriguing part of him drew her attention between his thighs. His cock was long, thick, and much closer to her current vantage point than she was comfortable with.
“Oh, shit,” she whispered, barely managing to breathe.
Good hell, he was gorgeous, much like the Indian who occasionally turned up in her dreams to save her from the villain. Sometimes it was a cowboy, though, not an Indian. Those were the good dreams, when the hero saved her. Then they would ride off someplace private. Perhaps this was a dream, too. Wolves didn’t rise up and turn into gods.
She blinked at him, only vaguely aware he was speaking.
The man knelt in front of her. “Can you hear me?” he asked.
She nodded mutely.
“Are you all right, ma’am?”
The twang in his words was strange. The cowboy lilt seemed disconnected from his sleek profile and naturally tanned skin.
“Ma’am?” he repeated. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay,” she said, sitting up and brushing off her palms.
“What were you runnin’ from?”
She glanced at him. “I thought someone was chasing me. Was it you?”
“No. I was standin’ right over there behind that brush.” His eyes lifted to the woods around her and sniffed. “I didn’t see anyone chasin’ you.”
Yes, he had a definite western twang. So, the Indian was a cowboy. Interesting. And he was a wolf. Maybe the man behind her wasn’t the one who was unconscious.
“Am I dreaming?” she asked.
“I must be. You can’t really be a wolf.”
And he said it so casually.
“There’s no such thing.”
His eyes glittered with yellow flecks, remnants of the animal buried within. “You just saw for yourself.”
She shook her head. “How could I have seen something that doesn’t exist?”
“Because I let you.”
This prompted a smile. “See? That proves my point. If werewolves were real, they wouldn’t go around transforming in front of strangers, would they?”
Unless maybe they were about to eat them. She swallowed hard.
“You ain’t a stranger.” He leaned around her and grunted down at the unconscious man. “Damn. He’s really out.”
She shifted around to look while worry and guilt tugged at her chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think I bumped him that hard.”
“The back of his head hit the tree on the way down.” Another calm remark, as though he were commenting on the weather.
“It did?” She gasped and scanned the pine needles scattered around his head for any sign of blood. “Jesus, I’m so stupid. I should have been watching where I was going.” She yanked out her cell phone and held it up. “This thing is useless. There’s still no signal.”
“Who would you call?”
“An ambulance, obviously. He needs help.”
“He’ll be fine.”
“What if he has a concussion?”
“He’s used to gettin’ knocked down. He’ll survive.”
Her next objection faded while she watched the way he stroked his hand over the other man’s forehead. There was a tenderness about it that struck her as less than platonic.
“Why did you say I’m not a stranger?” she found herself asking.
Their eyes locked. “Why did you risk yourself to protect him from me?”
She blinked. “I don’t know. It was just a reflex. I thought you were going to hurt him.”
He nodded as though he understood.
“Are you going to hurt me?” she asked.
He paused. “No.”
His deep voice gave her stomach a pleasant squeeze.
“I barely saw him before we crashed,” she said, nervous energy erupting in the form of babble. “He’s a wolf, too isn’t he? A gray wolf. Otherwise it wouldn’t make sense, me bumping into a wolf and finding a naked man in the middle of the woods.”
“Or findin’ a fancy lady in the middle of the woods,” came a hoarse reply, but it wasn’t from the Indian.
She twisted around to find the pale green eyes peeking through heavy lids.
“Thank heavens,” she said. “You’re awake.”
His mouth twitched into a smile. “You all right, ma’am?”
Goddess help her, he had a cowboy accent too.
She went rigid and balled her fists at her sides. Logical instinct told her to fight him off and run, but Jayson had a way of taking her logic and twisting it in knots. His slightest touch was capable of sending jolts of energy through her. Now, the hot, hard desperation of his mouth on hers turned those jolts into shockwaves. She was helpless to do anything but ride out the sensation.
She parted her lips to utter a gasp of surprise, and Jayson took full advantage. His tongue sliding into her mouth unhinged a wicked thrill low in her pelvis, and the frightened victim who’d been prepared to shut herself inside the cabin relaxed her fists and timidly slid her hands around his back. She gave an experimental squeeze to feel how strong those alluring muscles were.
Her actions prompted a muffled “Mm,” from him, and she found her tongue meeting his to mimic his sweeping, rolling motions.
Their mouths exploring this way touched off a damp, throbbing pulse between her legs, and when he reached around her to pull her firmly against him, the hard ridge in his crotch rubbed against a spot that made her want to thrust her hips lewdly.
“What about Zane?” she asked when he came up for air.
“Don’t be so greedy. Ain’t I enough for right now?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Zane would be doin’ the exact same thing if he were here. God, you feel good,” he murmured against her lips, taking hold of her thick braid and sliding his hand along the length until the backs of his fingers grazed her nipple. She jerked as her entire body ignited from that one tiny spot.
Lana’s hands grew bolder, and she slipped them beneath his shirt to feel the warmth of his hard, bare flesh. He was walking her sideways now, then backward when he shoved the screen door open and guided her through. Lana was barely coherent of it banging shut behind them. Jayson pushed her back against the wall in the dim entryway while his fingers ran up inside her shirt.
“Lana,” he whispered, bending his head to where he was tugging aside her bra.
The first sweep of his hot, wet tongue almost unhinged the knees she was trying to keep locked in place. She grabbed his head and held him to her, feeling the ache build in her pelvis while he nipped at her with his teeth.
A moan escaped her, and her tentative little exploration of his back turned wilder. She dug her nails in, dragging them down his skin. He gave a growl that was equally animal and pulled away to peel the shirt over his head.
“You want what you were starin’ at outside, don’t you?” he asked. “You want to feel my skin against yours.”
He pressed to her, and although her shirt was still mostly on, strategic points of her bare flesh melded to his—and it was pure magic. The contact didn’t last long, however, since he resumed licking her nipples until her body screamed for more. The tight throbbing in her clit from him pressing his erection against it caused a rapid ascent to a place she’d only ever reached alone, most often after awakening from the good dreams where a cowboy or Indian starred as the hero.
She was aware of his belt buckle clinking and a zipper lowering. “Touch me, Lana,” he said, beckoning her fingers lower, not only with his seductive voice, but by taking her hand and pushing it downward. “I need your hands on me.”
He guided her to curl her fingers around the hottest, hardest piece of flesh she had ever experienced. His cock was nothing like she’d imagined a man’s organ would feel like. This was ridged with veins and pulsing like a living creature, an animal intent on just one purpose.
“Oh, yes, darlin’,” he said. “Squeeze it just like that.”
He thrust against her hand when she fisted him tighter. He let out an erotic moan before almost destroying her with another scorching kiss.
Now another zipper was edging downward, but she was too busy meeting his tongue to realize whose it was until a probing hand dipped inside her panties. His fingers brushed her clit, and she cried out. She was ready to explode, ready to give in and let him do anything he wanted to her right against that wall. She clutched his wide shoulders and rode his expert touch, biting down hard to stifle the wicked, naughty cries wanting to burst out. Then it happened, the explosion she’d been craving. Orgasm shook her hard until she could no longer hold back her cry of pleasure.
“That’s right, baby,” he whispered. “Come for me.”