Tangle of Need (Psy-Changeling #11)(103)

The distraught pup attached himself to Riaz like a limpet and wouldn’t let go until his mother arrived at the infirmary, by which time Adria had a fifteen-minute head start. However, Riaz was a lieutenant and one of the best trackers in the pack. It took him only two minutes to pick up the crushed berries and ice and wild musk of her scent, another thirty seconds to realize two very important things.

One, Adria had run full-tilt the instant she was out of his sight; and two, she’d made an attempt to cover her tracks, so she clearly understood the consequences of the gauntlet she’d thrown in his face. His blood turned hot, the chase suddenly a very adult game … until her tracks, no longer concealed in any way, showed that she’d slowed down to a walk.

He bared his teeth.

Adria thought he’d given up. That was her second mistake. Her first had been to taunt him in the first place. Stalking her in silence, he tracked his quarry to a natural pool fed by two streams, taking care to remain upwind. A pile of discarded clothes lay on the bank, but that wasn’t what drew his eye.

Sleek and wet, she rose up out of the clear water, reaching back to squeeze the excess moisture out of her hair. Her nipples were hard, bitable points from the chill of the wind, her skin cream licked with gold. Flexing and unflexing hands that wanted to stroke and pet and possess, he dipped his gaze to the dark triangle between her thighs, his body rigid with the need to drive his cock into the molten tightness of her.

No more running, my stubborn, beautiful soldier.





Chapter 50





ADRIA FINISHED WRINGING out her hair and considered whether or not to use her T-shirt to blot her body dry. She could always shift and return home in wolf form. It might be best if she did, because she wasn’t sure she could hide the painful depth of her disappointment otherwise.

The chase had been a test, a game put in motion by the wolf that lived within her, wary and hopeful and with the courage to roll the dice. She’d needed to know Riaz cared enough to be pissed off, enough to follow. Changeling males who’d claimed a female were touchy about the kind of challenge she’d handed down, never simply allowed one to pass. That he had made it clear that though he’d called her “his” woman, it was only the shallowest of commitme—

“I like what you’re wearing.”

She was hauled back against a hard male body, one of his hands splayed possessively on her navel, the other cupping her breast to pluck at her nipple before the import of that deep male voice registered. Her pulse turned into a hammer, her breath coming in soft gasps.

“Sorry I’m a little late,” he murmured in a way she knew meant trouble. “Pup emergency.”

Relief and exhilaration threatened to make her melt against him … but she was a dominant female wolf. Slicing out her claws, she went to break his hold, but he’d read her intent—she found herself being spun around, her wrists imprisoned behind her back. He was using only one hand, but his hold was unbreakable.

“That wasn’t nice.” He gripped her jaw hard enough that she couldn’t use her teeth against him, and bent to take a bite out of the side of her breast.

“That hurt!” She clenched her thighs, the delicate folds between her legs slick with a moisture that made lie of her attempt at a snarl. “Riaz.”

Hot, wet laps of his tongue. “You liked it.” He squeezed her jaw in warning when she growled low in her throat, eyes of wolf gold looking into her own. “Behave.”

She might not have been a lieutenant, but neither was she a submissive. Not telegraphing her actions in any way, she brought up her knee at the same time that she snapped forward her head.

Rearing away, Riaz blocked the groin strike, but the dual attack distracted him enough that she was able to free herself. Slashing out with her claws before he could regain his balance, she scored four perfect lines across his chest, shredding his tee. Red seeped into the edges of the white fabric, but the cuts weren’t deep. Only enough to remind him that he was playing with a strong, dangerous woman, not an untried girl.

Tugging off the torn T-shirt, he threw it aside. “Now,” he said, stalking her with slow, prowling steps and an unblinking stare, “I’ll have to do more than just bite you.”

Oh, God. Seeing his nostrils flare, the tang of her arousal thick in the air, she fought the primal urge to pin him to the earth skin to skin, and shot him a deliberately provocative smile. “I don’t see you anywhere near me.”

He laughed … right before he lunged at her. The solitary reason she got away was because she danced left and into the deep pool created by the convergence of two streams. Coming up a second later, she saw him crouched on the verge, watching her, his head angled in a very wolfish way. “I don’t want to get wet.”

“Good, I’ll stay in here then.”

Thick black lashes lowered to hood his eyes. “I just saw an eel swim past.”

She jerked. “No you didn’t.” Except what was that brushing her leg? Yelping, she jumped a fraction to the right, glared at him when he chuckled. “You’re making it up.”

A grin that was all teeth. “Come out and I’ll only bite you a little.”

She shuddered against the impact of him so playful and more than a tiny bit dangerous. That was it, she was a goner. Dead and buried. Don’t give in. It was a command from her wolf—who understood that the male stalking her was having fun. So was she.