Chapter 65 If Your Mate is a Wolf
Sage’s thoughts scrambled to understand.
If your mate is a wolf?
Sage couldn’t grasp what was happening, or what he was trying to say.
It was all too much. She hid in the kitchen instead, drinking some water, musing, wondering if she could twist the situation, maybe glean information for foxen gain.
Once she found her way out of this mess, she would be interviewed by the Vvyndicate, and they would want to know every detail.
She peeked around the corner into the living room at Canyon, and just the sight of him in his uniform reminded her that things had gotten far more complicated than that.
The vod were in the living room at House A, not caring that she was foxen, insisting she needed protection, saying she had a fated mate and he might be a wolf, or he might not. None of it made sense.
Canyon paced around the room. Sage took a moment to study him, noting the differences in him from when she’d last seen him—his hair was the same, a crisp military cut, teetering between blond and brown.
His face was the same, masculine and college-boy friendly.
His body was perfect with a flat, muscled belly.
His gray and black uniform fit him well, snug across the chest, buttocks, and biceps.
His belt was bare, with no gun, badge or handcuffs. He hadn’t aged, only hardened.
Drinking him in, she fell into the memory of that past time with him like she was going to Oz.
Sage wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin, her eyes on the big male across from her.
He’d bought her lobster and caviar and she’d feasted.
He’d ordered a massive steak and had already finished it.
They hadn’t talked much, but they’d been eye-fucking each other over three courses.
He hadn’t asked her name, but she hadn’t asked his either.
She couldn’t help but wonder if this was normal for him.
He leaned back in his chair, tossed his napkin on his empty plate, and said, “Can I take you home?”
“Definitely not.”
He smiled. “Brutal.”
“You could be a serial killer.”
He pulled out his badge and put it on the table. “I’m a cop.”
Sage gasped and covered her mouth. “Worse.”
“You don’t like cops?” He stared into her soul like she was an even bigger steak than the one he’d just finished.
She shrugged.
“You could be a cop and a serial killer,” she said.
“Just a cop. Can I take you to your place?”
“Like I’d tell you where I live.” She drank a sip of expensive wine, then ran her tongue over her lips, her eyes locked on his.
He wiped his mouth and sat back in his chair, smiling, looking at her from different angles, telegraphing how confident he was that she was going somewhere with him.
Half of her wanted to get up and saunter out, and say something like, “Thanks for the food, but I don’t fuck cops,” but the other half of her wanted to sit on his lap and ask if she could see his handcuffs—she was so confused.
She looked for a bathroom. If she could just get a closed door between them, she wouldn’t be able to see his drop-dead-gorgeousness, and then she’d be able to think.
Before she could do anything, he reached around the table and grabbed her chair leg, dragging her close to him.
He leaned in and kissed her softly on the mouth, surprising the hell out of her.
She half-expected to feel a mate reaction, even though that was impossible…
but there was nothing. She didn’t pull away.
She let herself be thoroughly kissed by this perfect specimen of a male.
His touch was surprisingly gentle and when he probed her lips with his tongue, she couldn’t help but respond.
Sweet and minty, his tongue explored her mouth slowly.
His outdoorsy scent, like balsam wood and campfire smoke, made her emotions melt and her body quicken.
She forgot who she was, where she was, and even what she was, other than the lucky recipient of Canyon Wheeling’s attention.
She yielded to him, already drunk on his scent and addicted to his presence.
She pulled him closer, wanting nothing between the two of them.
Nearby, a woman laughed, the sound breaking through the general murmur, reminding Sage they were at a restaurant. What if someone saw her kissing a vod!? She broke the kiss, then pulled back and scooted her chair away from him, wracking her mind for somewhere private they could go.
“You can take me to WyldeWoode Waystation Hotel,” she said, shocked at her boldness, but relishing it as well. WyldeWoode Waystation Hotel was a boutique hotel near the east end of town owned by Sergeant Bullet Rockford, a vod, which meant foxen gave it a wide berth.
Canyon smiled broadly, then pulled out his wallet and threw several bills on the table.
He stood and held out his hand to her. Sage took it.
He grinned at her and her heart swooped in her chest. He led her to the parking lot, to his big truck.
He opened the passenger door then grabbed her hand to help her up.
Was she really going to go through with this?
She climbed right up into the seat, so apparently, she was. He ran around and got in, then started the truck and gave her a grin. The drive was less than five minutes and they didn’t speak—not one word.
The hotel came up quickly and Sage stared, transfixed.
She’d driven up the drive a short way on a dare as a teenager and hadn’t been back since.
The place was situated on several acres hidden by a thick tree line.
The sign at the road was carved into wood and painted, with the words ‘WyldeWoode Waystation Hotel’ flanked on each side by two massive wolves carved out of tree trunks.
Canyon turned up the drive and drove a half mile in before another sign came up.
This one was identical to the first, but the wolves were bigger.
Sage stared, awestruck. Wolves were scary, but they were beautiful, too, and powerful.
Sage had always been attracted to their power, and she’d always thought any salvation foxen were to find would have to include the vod.
The hotel was bigger than she’d thought it would be, looking almost like a modern castle.
She counted four floors and two wings and a thousand questions filled her mind.
Did Sergeant Rockford live here, and if so, did that mean the vod’s tunnels under Serenity ran to the hotel?
Would she see any vod other than Canyon?
Canyon’s hand found her thigh and he squeezed. She covered his hand with her own, squeezing, pretending they were normal—human even, on vacation, her chest feeling light and fluttery. It was all so new and exciting—and dangerous.
Canyon parked across the parking lot from it.
He turned the truck off, then twisted in his seat to face her.
He picked up one of her hands and put it to his mouth, kissing each knuckle.
She watched him, entranced. The man was sexy beyond belief.
He was hot from every angle. His muscles were perfect, and everything he did was stunning.
His perfect lips kissed each of her knuckles in turn, then he pulled her hand in to his chest and massaged each knuckle he’d just kissed.
“Oh,” she breathed, lost in the pleasure of his touch.
He covered her hand with his, then pressed it to his chest over his heart, and she almost thought he was being romantic, but then he slid her hand down to his jeans, directly onto his hard cock!
The thing was a beast, and she couldn’t resist giving it a good squeeze, then she snatched her hand away laughing.
He laughed, too, one arm draped over the back of the seat, the other over the window.
“Just checking we’re both here for the same thing,” he said.
He spread his legs and lifted his hips so she couldn’t help but get an eyeful of his thick cock straining to be set free. She bit her lip and contemplated. Was she really going to have a one-night stand with a vod? Not just a vod but a vodvod?!
Hell yeah, she was. He’d better be worth it.
She pointed at the beast in his pants. “I’m here for that.”
“I’ll get us a room,” he said, grinning.
He left the truck and she leaned over to watch him walk to the check-in area with that monster stiffie. He didn’t try to hide it, just crossed the parking lot with it preceding him. He opened the door and sauntered in, giving the woman behind the front desk an eyeful.
Sage checked the back seat and found a Chicago Cubs baseball cap.
She grabbed it and pulled it low over her face.
She couldn’t believe she was going through with this, and she could not fucking wait until they got into that room.
Her body felt like a drawn bowstring, on the verge of release.
It had been two years since a male had touched her and she was ready to be touched, especially by Canyon Wheeling.
She’d dreamed of this day, she’d imagined this day—but she’d never thought this day would happen.
Within a few minutes, he was on his way back, and he no longer looked like he was smuggling a wallaby in his pants.
She’d fix that. He met her eyes and held up a key card and winked at her and a warm flush spread through her.
He strode to her door and opened it. She twisted her legs to get out but he slid between them and pressed against her, his hands gripping her alongside her jeans-clad knees.
He took the cap off her head and turned it backwards, then put it back on her head, then ran his hands from her knees to her thighs, pulling her against him.
“I see you found my cap,” he said. “You got a boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Husband?”
“What?! No!”
“You don’t want to be seen with a cop?”
“Something like that.”
He stared at her for several moments, almost as if trying to read her mind, then he leaned forward without warning and kissed her.
Just like that, she was lost. She had no thoughts, no sense of self, just swirling bliss in her being.
His body pressed at the tender flesh between her legs, setting off sparks, igniting a flame.
He broke the kiss and looked deep in her eyes.
“Sexy as hell,” he whispered, then stepped back and held his hand out to help her out of the truck and lead her into the building.
She fell into step with him easily, turning the hat back around forward and pulling it low, slinging her purse over her shoulder.
She held his hand and curled her other hand around his bicep, pressing her body into him, away from a couple walking by.
They made it to the elevator and the doors opened right away.
The elevator was empty and they stepped inside.
Canyon pressed the button, then leaned against the wall, pulling her against him.
Sage took off the baseball cap. Canyon took it from her and stuck it in his back pocket, then snaked his hands around her waist again.
“I got the Penthouse,” he said.
She was impressed. “Dang officer, I would’ve let you bend me over your patrol car in the parking lot.”
He laughed out loud. “Really?”
She shook her head. “No. And if the Penthouse isn't fucking amazing, I might still run.”
He grinned. “Then I’ll chase you.”
She eyed him, feeling both turned on and terrified. What the fuck was she doing?
He grasped her hips and pulled her against his pants-beast. She ground against him, suddenly remembering that she was scratching an itch she’d had for many years.
He groaned and one of his hands slid up to her nape, pulling her in for a rough kiss. She kissed him back, officially lost, running her hands over his chest, then his shoulders, then his muscular back and firm ass.
He broke the kiss and she sagged into the wall, realizing they’d reached the top floor, the doors had opened, and were closing again. Canyon stuck his hand in between, then gestured. “After you.”
The hallway was private, empty of people, with only an exit door and the door to the suite.
Sage stepped out of the elevator into the quiet hallway and found herself alone with the wolf.
Finally.