No, that doesn’t make sense. Why would I think Sam needs me? He’s the one who kidnapped me, who stole my research. He’s the one with the ability to regenerate from gunshot wounds in a matter of hours.
How could he need me?
And yet I know, with complete certainty that he does. And that leaving him is a betrayal of whatever tenuous trust starting to form between us.
But then I catch sight of the data drive I set on the dash.
Think of your research-it could save so many lives.
I put the van in gear and start to drive. I’m fifty feet down the dirt drive when a blur of black fur launches right for the van. I brake but not before one hundred eighty pounds of wolf slams into the windshield.
“Sam,” I scream. Oh God, oh God, oh God. Please don’t let him be hurt. I forget for a moment that’s unlikely. I grab the handle to the door.
Before I can push it open, it flies off its hinges. Sam stands there, in full naked glory, face stormy. “Where are you going, Layne?” He’s not even out of breath. He glances at the dash and sees the data drive.
We reach for it at the same time, but he’s so fast, his hand moves in a blur. He crushes it in his fist and the plastic parts drop to the ground in useless splinters.
“Sam-”
He pulls me out of the van, but my feet never hit the ground, instead I’m upended over his shoulder.
“Sam!” A giggle bubbles up in my throat but I’m wise enough to suppress it. I wrap my arms around his waist to steady myself. I have a front row seat to the magnificent show of his glutes flexing and extending as he walks. His scarred and muscled body moves with total grace. I’ve never been one to ogle men, but he could’ve stepped from the pages of a fireman’s calendar.
He carries me back into the mobile home and drops me near the sofa. A half-second later, my torso is folded over the arm of the sofa and my panties-I mean, his ripped boxer briefs-are down, tangled around my thighs.
Sam smacks my ass, hard.
“Ouch!”
His palm settles on the offended cheek and he gives a slow, deliberate squeeze.
Something in the air between us shifts, changes. His anger becomes something darker. Needier. My fluster settles. I know this game. He’s played it before and I loved the way it ended. Except what’s to prevent his wolf from coming out again and attacking me? Especially if he’s angry.
He slaps me again, not as hard as the first time. He lays down a half-dozen quick, firm slaps, alternating cheeks.
My pussy grows wet, the punishing contact stimulating everything below my waist.
Sam drags a long breath in through his nostrils and his hand comes around to cage my throat. He pulls my torso upward, dips the fingers of his other hand between my legs. “Someone liked her spanking.” His voice is rough and low. I’m lulled by the promise of sex. Of satisfaction. This man knows how to play my body like a maestro.
And there’s no denying his assertion. The evidence is there between my legs, slick and wet.
A low growl reverberates in his throat, only it has a satisfied tinge to it-more like a purr, if it’s possible for wolves to purr.
“You have the best ass for spanking, Layne.” He rubs my tingling cheeks, kneads my flesh with rough hands. “In a wolves’ world, disobedience is met with punishment.” Another slap.
“Well, what was I supposed to do?” I protest, without much heat. “You left.”
He slaps my butt three more times. “I was doing my best to keep you safe. And you bailed.”
I reach back to cover my ass. He pins my wrist behind my back and slaps again.
“I’m sorry, Sam.” I figure I’m in no position to keep pushing back. I go with the truth. “I was scared.”
He immediately pulls me up and turns me around. He cradles my face with both hands. “Layne. Sweetheart. I never want you to be afraid of me. Never.” The last word is a growl. “I’m sorry.” Misery bathes his face, his haunted blue eyes are ancient again. He leans his forehead against mine. I’m intensely aware of his naked body so close to mine, the head of his rigid cock brushing up against my bare pussy. I glance down and he hurriedly yanks my torn boxer briefs back in place.
“I’ll keep my cock away from you. I don’t know how that happened. Why were you on the couch with me to begin with? Didn’t I tell you to lock your door?”
“You were having a nightmare.”
He squeezes his eyes closed. “That’s every minute of every night.” There’s defeat in his voice. “And I’d be especially dangerous if you woke me then.”
I shake my head stubbornly. I calmed his nightmare. I know I did.
His forehead rests against mine again. “You were sweet to worry about me.” His lips are so close. I want him to kiss me again, the way he did last night. I’m mixed up and stressed and the only thing that seems to make sense is the way I feel under his touch. “Want me to finish your spanking?” he murmurs against my lips.
“But what if you lose control?” I have to ask it.
He slowly rotates me. “I won’t. I promise.”
“How can you be sure?” I whisper. There’s a stretch of silence and I’m sorry I asked. I want the spanking. Want what comes after.
“Losing control means losing you.” His voice is tight. “My wolf saw you driving away. He won’t risk it again.”
I’m not sure his hypothesis would withstand rigorous testing, but I’m willing to accept it for the moment.
He rubs my bum through the boxers. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”
I’m glad I’m facing away, because my cheeks burn. “You know,” I mumble.
“Do I?” The purr returns to his voice. “More spanking? You like being restrained, too, don’t you?” He pins both my wrists behind my back with one hand.