Wolf Bite (Wolf Cove #2) (17 page)

“Thanks.” Clearly, Ronan has
done this before.

Connor steps forward to stand
in front of me, straddling either side of the chair, reaching back to scoop my
hair into a tight ponytail. It’s hard for me to focus on his stomach when his
crotch is basically in my face, too.

It looks like I’m about to
give him a blow job.

I’m guessing this was
intentional on Ronan’s part. I shoot him a dirty look but he merely smiles and
winks, nodding toward the shot in Connor’s hand. He’s enjoying every minute of
my embarrassment.
Jerk.

“Let’s see what you’ve got,
little one.” I peer up and into Connor’s face, staring down at me with heated
eyes, his fist tightening its grasp of my hair. It would be easy to catch his
skin with just the tip of my tongue, to get this over with quickly, to play up
the naïve, innocent, inexperienced girl that Henry accused me of being.

I don’t want to be her. So I
lean forward and flatten my tongue against his stomach above his belt, just
like I would have done to Henry’s cock when I was sucking him off. And then I
take a long, leisurely lick upward, coating my tongue in the taste of his skin.

“Here.” Connor’s smiling as
he hands me my shot, only temporarily distracting me from the hard outline of
his erection, directly in front of my face. He loosens his grip of my hair but
doesn’t let go as I tip my head back and down the tequila, the overpowering
taste worse this time around because there wasn’t much salt on his skin. Ronan
tosses a slice of lime, which Connor catches effortlessly. Instead of handing
it to me, allowing me to quell this bitterness in my mouth, he slides it between
his teeth, flesh side-out.

And then he stoops down and
leans forward to feed the lime to me with his mouth. I’d argue with him if I
wasn’t afraid that I may vomit from the tequila.

Our lips graze as I bite
down, but I ignore it, reveling in the sour juice as it explodes into my mouth.
I sigh with relief, milking the slice for every last drop, until I can’t get
anymore. I release it, and expect Connor to back off. Only he doesn’t. He lets
the chewed up fruit fall from his mouth and then he pulls my mouth to his to
lay an unexpectedly sweet kiss against my lips.

It doesn’t last more than
four seconds but it feels like an eternity because it’s been an eternity since
I kissed anyone.

And I’m not exactly sure how
I feel about Connor kissing me.

“Thank you.” The smirk on his
face when he pulls away is nothing short of victorious.

Clearing my throat, I grab my
sweater, offering a mumbled “Night,” on my way past Ronan.

~ ~ ~

I let the hot water soak into my back muscles, soothing the
ache in them. It’s times like these that I wish I could show up at Michael’s cabin,
lie down in his bed, and get him to rub my back like he did that night.

I rarely think of him anymore, which just proves how messed
up I was—and still am—over Henry, and how much I was just looking for an escape
from my pain. In some ways I’m glad Henry shipped him back to Aspen. It’s made
me not have to deal with the mortifying aftermath of using a guy like that.

A shower starts a few stalls over, and it brings me a degree
of comfort. While the women’s shower room is big and bright and
well-maintained, being the only one in here this late at night is a little
unsettling.

I’m halfway through working the shampoo through my hair when
the first deep moan carries over the running water.

My hands stall as I listen. Nothing but silence and running
water responds.

Until I hear it again.

There’s no mistaking that kind of moan.

I should ignore it. I should quickly finish washing up and
leave. But I’ve had three shots of tequila and Connor kissed me so sweetly, and
my curiosity now overtakes my surprise. So I crouch down to look under the
stall. I see two sets of feet—one male, one female—both facing the showerhead,
the male standing behind the female, the female’s feet spread fairly wide apart.

Oh my God
. Someone’s having sex in here. I’ve heard
rumors of it happening—people will go anywhere for a bit of privacy—but I
thought it might be just that, a rumor. Clearly it’s not.

There’s no way they don’t know I’m here, so they must not
care.

I take my time, running my fingers through my hair to work
the shampoo out, all while keenly aware of what’s happening just a few stalls
over. Listening intently, hoping that a word or a sound might tell me who it is

Their soft pants grow louder, along with a few grunts and
indecipherable whispers. If I close my eyes, I can imagine the guy thrusting
harder and faster into her from behind.

That familiar sensation begins to build in my core.

I’m getting turned on listening to them.

It doesn’t help that I’m standing naked in a shower, I
guess. Or that I was treated to several days of mind-blowing sex, only to have
it yanked away abruptly, leaving me with absolutely nothing for the past six
weeks. Plus I’ve been the subject of constant flattery and brute charm by two
attractive sexual men day in and day out for those six weeks.
And
I’ve
had three shots of tequila and Connor kissed me tonight.

I’m sure all of that plays a role in why my breasts are
growing heavy and my nipples are pebbled and when I run my soapy hand between
my legs, my fingers are stalling on my clit.

Biting my bottom lip with hesitation, I peek under the stall
again like the pervert I obviously am. The woman now has one foot raised beyond
my view. I can judge each thrust by the movement of the guy’s feet, spread out
farther

Closing my eyes, I imagine myself in her position, with a
man behind me, filling me like that.

But who? I don’t trust anyone.

Except for maybe Connor or Ronan.

It’s so wrong and dangerous to even let these thoughts enter
my head, but I can’t help it. I trust them more than I trust anyone else. I
like them, I’m attracted to them, and I’ll never get caught up in anything more
than feelings of friendship toward them.

And I’m so damn horny right now.

Enough that I wish I’d taken Connor up on that offer of a
shower.

“Oh, God, James. Yes!” A woman cries out in a deep southern
lilt.

I bolt upright, wide-eyed, any thought I may have had of getting
myself off while listening to them dead.

That’s Tillie!

And James. Which James?

I only know of one—Lorraine’s James. I saw them walking hand
in hand along the path just this afternoon, so I’m pretty sure they’re still
together.

This must be another James.

A part of me wants to towel
off and duck out of here right now, because otherwise our paths may cross and
they’ll know I stayed and listened to them have sex.

And yet I don’t leave.

I grab my razor and take my
time, dragging the blade over every square inch of my legs, hoping I don’t
accidently cut myself with my shaky hands. Tillie or not, there’s something
about listening to two extremely attractive people having sex that stirs my
blood. Or maybe it’s because I’m simply envious of them.

Either way, I’m sure that
whoever Tillie’s with is hot.

“Yes. Yes. Yes!” Tillie moans
just like I’d expect a southern belle to moan—deep and throaty—as she comes,
closely followed by James shouting, “Oh, fuck! Yeah!”

And in that moment, I know
that this
is
Lorraine’s James, because he said the exact same thing the
night I overheard him and Lorraine, when I was with Michael.

Oh man... this isn’t good.
But maybe Lorraine and he broke up after I saw them today? If not... am I a bad
roommate for not telling Lorraine about this?

I’m pretty sure several of
Jed’s and my “friends” knew about Cammie before I found out. Their decidedly
calm reactions when I told them what happened indicated that.

But Lorraine’s going to find
out anyway. Nothing stays secret around here. And then living in that cabin is
going to be a nightmare. I sigh, debating what to do. This is the longest
shower I’ve ever had in my life. My fingertips have turned prunish, and the
water isn’t as hot as it once was.

I really want to leave, but I
absolutely don’t want to come face-to-face with either of them, so I huddle
under the water until I hear James say, “Catch you later.” I peek through the
side of the curtain in time to see him stroll out with a towel wrapped around
his waist.

I wait another minute and
then I shut the water and duck out in record time, leaving Tillie humming to
herself.

This place....

It’s definitely not
Greenbank, Pennsylvania.

~ ~ ~

I reach over my head to shut off my reading light.

And then I do the same stupid
girl thing that I’ve done every night for the past six weeks—pull my phone out,
crossing my fingers that my Internet connection is working, and I refresh the
search engine for “Henry Wolf” to see if anything new about him has been
reported.

Most nights, it’s the same
old stuff. Articles about Wolf Hotel, about the eligible Wolf bachelors. There
are articles about the Wolf gold mine, and forecasts for how long it can be
mined before the cost of increased diesel fuel consumption with mining so deep
outweighs the profits and effort. Apparently there was a small accident five
years ago when one of the tunnels collapsed. When I read that, I found myself
wishing that Scott had had been in that tunnel. I of course immediately felt
guilty for thinking that, even if he deserves it.

Every night I brace myself for a picture of Henry with a
woman. There have been a few, and on those nights I feel sick to my stomach and
spend the night tossing and turning and, occasionally, crying quietly. I hate
letting myself cry over him, so I usually fight it.

Tonight, a new article pops up. Wolf Hotels is opening a
location in Prague.

I sigh, imagining what it would be like to hop on a plane
and fly over an ocean to Europe. Maybe I’ll do that next year, once I’m
finished my last year at North Gate. I never thought I’d end up in Alaska this
summer, so who knows? I don’t even have a passport.

According to the article, the company is set to begin
remodeling a historic building shortly, in time to open next year. My heart
jumps at the picture set in the inset, of Henry in his suit, his dark hair
combed back, the curls rolling at the nape of his neck, visiting the location just
last week. Another picture follows it, of him stepping into a famous local opera
house, his arm around a beautiful and glamorous brunette identified as
Czech-born supermodel Luciana Boren.

This is the third picture I’ve seen of them together.

Tears sting my eyes as I read through the rest of the
article.

Clearly, Henry has moved on.

I really need to, too.

Chapter Twenty

“We need to load this all into the compost bins
before lunch. You almost done in there?” Ronan calls from outside.

I lean over the work-bench and stretch onto my tiptoes to
hang the shears onto the hook, admiring the tool shed. Everything is new and
clean and well-labeled, and the scent of cedar wafts through. It’s so different
from the drafty old barn where my dad stores our farm equipment.

“Come on. Hurry up!” Ronan’s hungry. I can tell. That’s the
only time I’ve ever seen him grouchy.

“Hold on!” I holler back, annoyed, shifting a box that’s
hindering my reach.

Suddenly, something leaps out of it, grazing my neck on its
way past.

With a loud shriek, I drop the shears and jump back, just in
time to see a brown and black striped body disappear behind some bags of mulch
in the corner.

Ronan comes barreling in, his face stricken with panic. His strong
arms instantly rope around me and he pulls me into his chest protectively.
“What happened?”

“A chipmunk.”

“A chipmunk?” The tension releases in his arms. “Are you
kidding me? Jesus Christ, I thought you were being mauled by a bear or
something.”

“A bear, just sitting inside a garden shed?”

“Well, the way you screamed!” He defends himself.

“It
touched
me!”

“It
touched
you.” He heaves a sigh, and then chuckles.
“Fucking lucky chipmunk.”

“Shut up.” I’m laughing now too. Of course he’s turned this
into something sexual.

I’m still in his arms. He peers down at me thoughtfully, but
says nothing.

“What?”

His eyes sparkle as they drift over my mouth, and farther
down, to where my chest presses against his. “You should give me a chance.”

“A chance? For what?”

The heated gaze that lifts to meet my eyes answers me
immediately.

“I can’t.”

“Why not? I’ve seen you looking at me. I know you want me.”

My cheeks begin to burn. “No, I don’t.” I
do
look at
him a lot. And Connor. It’s hard not to—they’re both lean and cut and gorgeous.
“And that doesn’t mean I’m going to sleep with you.”

His smile falls off as his hands begin to wander, sliding up
to settle on my shoulders, his thumbs grazing along the collar of my t-shirt at
my collarbone, just touching my skin enough to send a thrill down to my
breasts. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.” I sigh. “I don’t want to mess things up by
complicating them.”

“It won’t. We both know where we’re coming from.” He says it
so matter-of-factly.

I’m already shaking my head. “I can’t.”

“Yeah, you can. I’m telling you that you can.” He pushes a
wayward strand of hair off my forehead. “As unbearable as it will be for me,
I’m giving you permission to use my dick for your amusement.”

“Oh my God. Stop it!” I laugh as I push against his chest,
my palms reveling in his firm muscles. He has never so overtly propositioned me
before. Is it because of what happened last night with Connor? Is he jealous
and getting competitive?

I gain some space between us, only to lose it when Ronan
steps forward. “Does it make you uncomfortable to know that I’m hard for you
right now?”

I can’t keep my wide eyes from dropping down to his pants.
Sure enough, I can see the outline of his erection. Does it make me
uncomfortable? No, I don’t think so. But I don’t tell him that.

He smiles and under his breath, I hear a soft mutter of,
“God, you’re beautiful.”

A nervous laugh escapes me. “Come on! You’ve slept with my
roommates!”

“And you fucked Aspen. So what?”

“He wasn’t your roommate. And I
watched you
with
Rachel.”

He rolls his eyes. “Once, like, forever ago.”

“That’s not the point!”

He steps in closer and I don’t back away this time, even
though I know I should, my entire body suddenly alive with adrenaline, reacting
to the potential pleasure that Ronan is offering, even while the voice inside my
head is screaming,
no! no! no!

“The point is that you just stood in a shower for twenty
minutes by yourself last night, listening to your roommate bang some guy. Don’t
tell me that didn’t turn you on.”

I groan. “I’m
really
regretting telling you about
that.” The only reason I brought it up was because I felt like Connor should
know. He didn’t seem to care much, but they were both very interested in the
fact that I stayed to listen to the act in its entirety. And whether I touched
myself.

I sure as hell didn’t answer that question honestly.

“Do you want me to watch Connor fuck you? Would we be even
then?”

Maybe this isn’t about competition or jealousy, after all.

But...
oh my God
. “Do you
really
want to watch
me have sex with Connor?” Just the thought has me blushing furiously.

“What, like you’ve never thought about it?”

Just last night, actually.
“Thought about you watching
me have sex with Connor? Uh... no!”

“Would you do it if Ronan
isn’t
watching?” Connor
pokes his head in, sliding his aviators down over the bridge of his nose to eye
us. He’s obviously been listening. “What the hell are you two doing in here?”

My cheeks burn even brighter. “Sorry, I was attacked by a chipmunk.”

“Oh, come on. You know Ronan’s dick is bigger than a
chipmunk. A squirrel, maybe.”

The two of them burst out in laughter and I just shake my
head at them.

Connor steps into the shed. “So where’d this killer chipmunk
go?”

I point to the corner, and he wanders over to kick the bag
of mulch with his work boots. “We have to get the little bastard out. Can’t
have them nesting in here.”

I watch as they begin dragging out the various boxes and
bags tucked in beneath the table, the muscles in their arms and backs straining,
the crew work pants stretching over hard asses.

“Fuck! There it is!” Connor shouts, and a second later a
furry little body scurries past us and out the front door, earning my shudder.

“Hopefully he’s smart enough not to come back.” Connor dusts
his hands off as Ronan shoves a barrel back under the desk. “So, back to the
topic of us together. Is Ronan just watching? Or do I have to share you? At
least let me have first dibs. I’m so brokenhearted over Tillie.” He emphasizes
that with a fake pout.

I spin on my heels and bolt out the door to climb behind the
wheel of the flatbed truck. I crank the engine in an attempt to drown out their
laughter. It seems I’ve somehow given them the green light. The innuendos are
gone. Now it’s straight proposition.

Connor rounds the truck, resting his arms against the door
in the open window, amusement splashed across his face. “What? You think you’re
gonna drive?”

“I never get to drive.”

“This isn’t a Honda Civic, Abbs. Do you even—”

I throw it into first gear and release the clutch. Connor jumps
back just as the truck lurches forward. I take off down the road, leaving them
in a cloud of diesel fumes.

The composting site is a quarter mile up the road.

That should give all of us time to cool off.

~ ~ ~

Lorraine’s hand flies through the air, making
contact with Tillie’s cheek. The slap echoes through the staff lounge with an
audience of at least twenty-five, most of us standing around the fireplace to
watch the catfight unfold.

Connor tsks. “That’s not good. She could get canned for that
one.” Nudging me with a soft elbow, he whispers, “Did you squeal, little
piglet?”

“No! I haven’t said a word to anyone but you two!” I’m
actually offended that he’d even suggest it.

“Security cameras would have caught him going in,” Ronan
murmurs, downing his beer. “I swear, Corbin has a pussy the way he gossips.”

Tillie has the nerve to look appalled at Lorraine’s
tear-filled violent reaction to finding out that her roommate slept with her
boyfriend, while James has the decency to appear at least a little sheepish
from his table.

Thanks to the three beers and one shot I’ve already downed,
I feel the sudden urge to walk over there and slap
him
for his cheating
part in all this.

“Come on.” Ronan grabs my arm and pulls me toward the exit.

I’m not at all surprised that he wouldn’t be interested in
watching the emotional fallout. I don’t want to watch it either, so I happily
follow him. Not until we reach the side door do I realize that Connor’s in tow
as well.

“What? I want nothing to do with that either,” he murmurs.

The three of us head down to the staff dock, our quiet gazes
on the sun as it hangs in the sky, just beginning to set. “I don’t think I’ll
ever get used to these long summer days.”

“I hear the winters here are even longer. Six hours of
daylight, or something like that.” Ronan pulls out a cigarette.

Ronan and I sit out here almost every night after dinner, so
much that I’m used to his bad habit. I’m pretty sure that when my summer in Alaska
is over and I want to transport myself back to these peaceful nights out on the
dock, all I’ll need to do is light a Camel and close my eyes.

A full can of beer appears in front of me. Connor pulls two
more from his pocket. He must have poached them from the crew’s table on his
way out.

“I shouldn’t.” I say this even as I sit down and crack the
top. I’m much too relaxed for my own good. This one might put me over the edge.

“That a girl.” Connor throws an arm around my neck and pulls
me backward against his chest, his legs stretched out on either side of me.
“Why can’t every chick be as cool as you?”

“I’m a cool chick?” I roll my eyes but smile, torn between
elbowing him in the stomach so I can pull away, and staying exactly where I am.
I end up staying put, sipping my beer and looking out over the water as I lean
against his chest. “You know, this isn’t as bad as I thought.”

“What. The beer?”

Ronan chuckles. “Connor’s hard dick pressed against your
back?”

I stretch my leg to give him a playful kick. He’s quick,
grabbing me by the foot and pulling my leg to dangle over his lap.

“What’s not as bad as you thought?” Connor nuzzles his face against
my neck.

Again, I know I should stop this right now. But I close my
eyes instead. “No. Alaska.”

“Fuck. Alaska’s awesome! Why would you ever have thought it
wouldn’t be?”

“I don’t know. I just did,” I murmur, catching Ronan’s thoughtful
gaze. He slides his hand over my calf with affection, but says nothing.

He understands exactly why.

But that’s our secret.

~ ~ ~

“Abbi!”

“Abbieeeeeeee!”

“Oh my God, would you shut your two fuck boys up! Some of us
have to be up soon,” Tillie snaps from behind her curtain.

It’s three in the morning, and Ronan and Connor have been
standing outside our cabin for the past five minutes, calling my name. Someone’s
going to alert security soon if they don’t shut up.

“They’re not my fuck boys.”

“You sure about that? Because they sure seem to
love
you.” Bitterness seeps through her voice.

“At least she waited to get with her roommates’ boyfriend,
whore!” comes the equally vicious retort from the top bunk.

I’m honestly not sure how we’re going to get through until
the end of August without them killing each other.

I ignore them both, sliding my shower flip-flops and a jacket
on before I step out into the cold.

“Abbi!”

Their shouts aren’t coming from the path. They’re coming
from behind our cabin. I wander over, a little panicked that something’s wrong.
Ronan and Connor stand with their backs against the wall, just under the
window.

“What the hell are you two doing out here?” I hiss.

“There she is!” Connor reaches out to pull me into his chest
with no effort. “We missed you.”

“I was with you a few hours ago.” I’m hit with the smell of
beer. “God, you two are
really
drunk!”

“Nah. Well, maybe just a little bit.” I can’t see Ronan’s
face in the dark, but I can hear the sly smile in his voice. “But we had to see
our girl.”

I roll my eyes, but I laugh. “You two are idiots.”

Connor squeezes me tight. “Endearing idiots, though.”

“Endearing. Dude. That’s a big word.”

Connor lets go of me to punch Ronan in the chest.

“Go to bed, you two. We have to start work in a few hours.”

“You’re right. Okay. Let’s let our girl sleep.” But Connor
doesn’t release me right away, instead pulling me flush against his firm body.
He dips his head into the crook of my neck like he did on the dock earlier, his
mouth against my ear. “Good night, sweet girl.” It’s not a kiss but it may as
well be, the shivers his lips send down my spine, making my nipples tighter
than they already were from the cold.

Releasing me, he strolls away with ease, staggering only
slightly.

Ronan scoops me into his arms and settles a hand on the back
of my head, weaving his fingers through my hair. He gently tugs until my head
falls back.

I know he’s staring down at me, searching the dark for my
eyes. Even though we can’t actually see each other, I can feel that haunting gaze
on me, boring into me. It’s intense.

A soft gasp slips from my lips as he grows hard against my
stomach. “Why did you two come here tonight?”

He leans forward and smacks his forehead into mine.

“Ow!”

“Sorry.” He adjusts until our foreheads simply lean against
each other. “Well, I can’t speak for Connor but
I
wanted a fresh memory
of you so I can take it back and jerk off in my bed.”

I should be shocked that he admitted to that, but I’m not. I
should be utterly disgusted by that prospect. But instead I find myself
giggling, and warmth blooming in my core.