Chapter 7 #2
I turned the truck onto the old logging road that wound up the side of Blackwood Mountain. It was a "Makeout Point" cliché, yes, but it was also the only place within ten miles where I could park and see the entire valley without being disturbed.
The snow had stopped, leaving a fresh, white blanket over the world. The moon was full—a big, bright coin in the sky that sang to the Wolf in my blood.
I parked the truck at the overlook. Below us, the lights of the university twinkled like fallen stars. Above us, the treeline was dark and silent.
I killed the engine. The silence rushed in, thick and intimate.
"Why are we here?" Maya asked, her voice barely a whisper.
"Because I'm not ready to take you back," I said. "And because you need to scream."
"Scream?"
"We're miles from anyone," I said, unbuckling my seatbelt and turning to face her. "No parents. No Dean. No roommates. Just trees and snow. Go ahead. Let it out. Scream at them."
Maya looked out the window at the vast darkness. "I... I can't just scream."
"Why not?"
"It's rude."
I laughed softly. "Nature doesn't care about manners, Maya. Do it. Scream 'Fuck you.' Scream 'I hate the cello.' Scream whatever is stuck in your chest."
She looked at me, then back at the window. She took a deep breath. She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
She slumped back against the seat. "I can't. It's stuck."
"Okay," I said. "Plan B."
I reached for the center console and flipped the latch, lifting the armrest up and out of the way. It created a bench seat.
"Come here," I said.
Maya didn't hesitate. She scrambled over the gear shift, moving from her side of the cab to mine.
She didn't stop at the middle seat. She climbed right into my lap.
She straddled me, her legs going on either side of my hips, the silk of her dress riding up to her waist. Her knees pressed into the leather seat on either side of my thighs.
My hands instinctively went to her waist, gripping her hips to steady her.
"Hi," she whispered, her face inches from mine.
"Hi," I groaned. The weight of her on me was heaven and hell combined. She was so light, but her presence was crushing.
"Is this Plan B?" she asked, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck.
"Plan B is distraction," I rasped. "Plan B is making you forget everything except where my hands are."
"It's working."
She leaned in and kissed me.
It wasn't tentative like the palm kiss. It wasn't chaste.
She smashed her mouth against mine with a hunger that matched my own. Her lips were soft, tasting of chocolate milkshake and desperation. Her tongue swept into my mouth, tangled with mine, demanding and hot.
I lost it.
I growled into her mouth, my arms tightening around her like steel bands. I hauled her closer, grinding my hips up against hers. Through the denim of my jeans and the silk of her dress, the friction was maddening.
We devoured each other. It was messy. It was wet. It was a clash of teeth and tongues and breath.
My hands roamed over her back, tracing the line of her spine, then moved lower to cup her ass, squeezing the soft flesh. She gasped into my mouth, arching into my touch, grinding down on my erection.
"Leo," she moaned, breaking the kiss to gasp for air. She buried her face in my neck, biting lightly at the sensitive cord of muscle. "God, you feel so good. You're so hot."
"You're burning me alive," I muttered, tilting my head to give her better access.
My hand moved to the front of her dress. I found the hem and shoved it up, my fingers sliding over the smooth skin of her thigh, moving higher.
She wasn't wearing stockings. She was wearing lace panties that were damp with her need.
I groaned, my forehead dropping to rest against her shoulder. "Maya. You're killing me."
"Don't stop," she begged, her hips rocking against me. "Please, Leo. Touch me again. Like yesterday."
I wanted to. God, I wanted to. I wanted to rip the panties off. I wanted to lift her hips and impale her right here in the cab of the truck, with the moonlight watching. I wanted to knot her. I wanted to fill her until she couldn't walk.
But I couldn't.
Not here. Not like this. And not when she was vulnerable, reeling from her parents, using me as a drug to numb the pain.
If I took her now, I would claim her. The mating bite would happen. I knew it. My control was fraying. And once I bit her, her life as a human was over. She would be Pack. She would be hunted by my enemies. She would be tied to a monster forever.
She had a recital tomorrow. She had a life.
I grabbed her wrists. It took every ounce of strength I had. I pulled her hands away from my hair and held them against my chest.
"Stop," I gasped, pulling my face away from her neck. "Maya. Stop."
She froze. Her chest was heaving, her lips swollen and red. She looked dazed, drunk on the hormones.
"Why?" she whimpered. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No," I said fiercely. "You're doing everything right. That's the problem."
I rested my forehead against hers, closing my eyes, trying to regulate my breathing. "If we don't stop now, I'm going to take you right here. And I'm not going to use protection, and I'm not going to be gentle, and tomorrow you're going to hate me."
"I wouldn't hate you," she whispered.
"You should," I said. "I'm a predator, Maya. I'm holding on by a thread."
I moved my hands to her waist and gently—so gently it hurt—lifted her slightly, creating a fraction of an inch of space between our bodies.
"We have a deal," I reminded her, my voice rough. "Recital first. Chaos later."
She stared at me, her eyes searching mine. She saw the struggle. She saw the gold leaking into my irises. She saw how much it cost me to say no.
Slowly, the haze cleared from her eyes. She nodded.
"Okay," she whispered. "Recital first."
She climbed off my lap, moving back to the passenger seat. The loss of her warmth was a physical blow. I felt cold instantly.
She smoothed her dress down, her hands shaking. She looked out the window at the valley.
"Leo?"
"Yeah?"
"You're really good at the restraint thing," she said quietly.
I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles white. "I'm really not, Maya. I'm really, really not."
I started the truck.
As we drove back down the mountain, the silence wasn't awkward. It was thick with unsaid things.
I glanced over at her. She was watching me.
And in that moment, seeing her messy hair and her swollen lips, I realized the terrifying truth.
It wasn't just the Wolf who wanted her.
I wanted her. Leo Vance. The man, not the beast.
I loved her.
I loved her quiet strength. I loved her defiance. I loved the way she ate a cheeseburger and the way she looked at me like I was the sun.
And that realization terrified me more than the Feral gene ever could. Because if I loved her, I had to protect her.
And the biggest danger to her safety was sitting in the driver's seat.
"We're almost home," I said, my voice soft.
"I know," she said. She reached across the console and took my hand again, intertwining our fingers. "I'm already there."
I squeezed her hand, terrified to let go.
We were a team now. The Bubble was real.
But bubbles pop. And tomorrow, the real world was coming for us with a needle.