Ruthless (Wolf Ranch 6)

The niggling sense that I was screwing things up got stronger.

Fuck! I should’ve paid more attention to my brother and the other guys who’d mated humans. Remembered the things they’d said. Human women viewed relationships differently than we did.

She pulled her tank top on and hopped off the bed to her feet. “Well, I’m looking forward to the next time,” she said lightly, but for some reason, it sounded forced. As if she hadn’t just screamed my name… twice.

Fates, I had no fucking idea what went on in a human female’s head!

“When that pussy aches for more, you let me know,” I said. I handed her shorts to her, then pulled on my t-shirt. “Did you work up an appetite?” I’d already had my meal.

I didn’t know why feeding her seemed so goddamn important, but my wolf wanted to see to her needs. Prove I could provide for her. Protect her. Satisfy her.

“I’m starving,” she affirmed.

I looked around the bedroom. “No more spiders to kill? You need anything else from me up here? I mean for now—I’ll be back to see to that greedy pussy again, don’t you worry none.” I tossed her a wink, even though things didn’t seem quite as light as they should.

She smiled in return although a pretty blush spread across her cheeks as if she were embarrassed about how she’d behaved.

As if. She’d been hot as fuck.

She shook her head. “You’re pretty smooth, cowboy.”

Smooth? I didn’t want to be smooth. I wanted to be sincere. I also wanted her to know that I’d take care of her. In all ways.

I was going to have to make it a little clearer what my intentions were here.

“Now, I’m hungry,” she said, her hips swaying as she walked out the bedroom door. “Thanks for bringing food.”

I followed her down the stairs, keeping my gaze glued to her that pretty little ass of hers. The one she’d just let me spank pink. She’d be thinking of me every time she sat down.

That little reminder made my wolf’s chest puff up again.

We both washed up and sat down at the rickety table in her kitchen to eat. I had to adjust my dick, so it wasn’t strangled by the zipper.

“So, Red. It’s been a while. Fill me in on your life.” I unwrapped a sandwich then the other. “Turkey, roast beef or half of each?”

I flicked a gaze at her. Waited.

“Half of each,” she replied.

I rearranged the sandwich halves, so we each had both kinds, then slid one in front of her.

“Thanks.” She lifted the turkey and took a bite. I did the same, waited.

She dabbed some mustard from her lip with a finger, and I watched the move intently, imagined a little drop of my cum caught there from after her sucking me off. I stifled a groan and took a few gulps of the lemonade she’d poured earlier to try to cool off.

“The short version is that I went home after that summer. Went to college for music then onto getting my master’s. I inherited the house, and now I’m here.”

“What else?”

“Like what?”

I shrugged. “Anything. Doesn’t have to be special.” I took a bite of the roast beef.

Her lips quirked into a pretty bow. “Well, you already know I hate spiders, and I play the violin—well, played.”

I jerked my head up on alert. “What do you mean played?”

“I don’t know. I think, actually, I’m done with music. Forever. Grad school just sucked every last drop of pleasure out of it for me. I have this terrible pain behind my shoulder blade every time I play, and my stomach cinches up tight, and all I can think about is how un-fun it is.”

“Wow. I’m sorry. How long have you felt that way?”

“Pretty much by second semester of grad school.”

“You didn’t think about quitting then?”

Her brows dipped. “I did, but I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

She lifted her delicate shoulders. “My parents hated that I went to college. I wanted to get out, and I knew college was the way to do it. They hated even more that I studied music. They wanted me to stay home, work a minimum wage job like them and contribute to the household like I had since I was fifteen. We had a huge fight when I enrolled, even though it didn’t cost them a dime. I got a scholarship and worked three odd-jobs to make it through.”

I cocked my head. “So you had to prove to them you’d made the right choice?”

She laughed, covering her mouth with a napkin. “Pretty much, yeah. Redheads can be stubborn, if you haven’t heard.”

I laughed. “I have heard.” I studied her pretty face—the splash of freckles across her nose, the warm brown eyes. Fuck, I could look at her all day.

So my mate was stubborn. I could deal with that. She’d have a red ass because of it. And she’d love it.