Tropical Wounded Wolf (Shifting Sands Resort 2)

Neal found himself wanting to show her everything. Her excitement and nervousness were adorable, and he loved the way she got past her immediate alarm every time and boldly went forward to new experiences and adventures. She may consider herself a coward, but she was easily the bravest person Neal had ever witnessed.

When Neal pointed out the whales on the horizon, surfacing and blowing a spray of water up into the air, Mary ooh-ed and ahhh-ed, and nearly pulled them under in her excitement at spotting one flip its tail above the surface.

He shifted when they gained the land, and he could feel his breath come even easier in wolf form, dark paws dancing the surf. Mary slipped out of her underthings and frolicked beside him in deer form. While she found beach grass to nibble on, he found the scent of some small rodent, which he tracked down to a pile of driftwood and devoured.

He returned to find her trying to coax new flame from her neglected fire, and he cheered her success by lifting her into the air and spinning her around, grateful for strength in his arms once more.

&n

bsp; They made love in the sand as the sun moved across the sky into afternoon, and Neal felt like he was discovering her all over again with his own healing body.

The scrapes across her skin had faded to almost nothing, and even the gash along her arm was nothing more than a silver scar now against the deep tan she was developing.

She moved like the ocean under his fingers, rising to his kisses and scratching his shoulders in passion as he entered her.

She was tight and willing at the same time, welcoming and yet deliciously resistant, and Neal wanted to do nothing more than capture the moment forever.

He kept his strokes slow and deliberate, teasing and tantalizing, and bringing her to the brink of pleasure again and again until she was writhing and begging and clawing at him, breathing his name in a way that made his toes clench.

Finally, she came, and Neal couldn’t stop his own pleasure at the same time, his release like a triumph.

They lay together, and Neal was deeply grateful for the way his breath went all the way to the bottom of his lungs.

His wolf, grinning in satisfaction within him, was no longer a hated reminder of his trials, and he knew that whatever happened, they were partners again.

He rolled over up on one elbow and looked down at Mary, who smiled up at him contentedly.

“You are so amazing,” he told her frankly.

She made a funny face. “I have sand in awkward places again,” she laughed.

He laughed back at her, and it was as much a delight as breathing again, to open his mouth and hear laughter.

“Do you hear that?” Mary suddenly said, freezing and clutching at his arm.

Over the now familiar roar of the waterfall and the endless lapping of the ocean on the shore, Neal heard a faint, mechanical hum.

“A boat,” they said together, and Mary fell over herself reaching for her scattered clothing, totally forgetting about the sand she had just complained about.

Neal sprang to his feet without regard for his own nudity, and ran for the beach, desperate to catch the eye of whoever might be out there.

He needn’t have worried: if Travis’ eagle eyes had not spotted them from the little boat, Bastian suddenly swooping from overhead would not have missed them.

“Shirking your jobs again, are you?” the dragon teased, shifting into human form within a few steps of his neat landing. He was a clothing shifter, and so he remained neatly attired in his lifeguard uniform, a first aid kit strapped to his waist.

Neal folded his arms and offered a smile in greeting as Mary came up to hand him what remained of his tattered clothing.

Travis looked alarmed at her blood-stained shirt, but Mary quickly waved him off. “I’m fine, really. Neal was the one who was hurt.”

That earned him a head-to-toe look from Travis.

“I’m fine now,” Neal said blithely.

“You should still be looked at,” Mary said firmly.

Bastian and Travis exchanged amused looks that would have had Neal gnashing his teeth in irritation just a few days earlier. Now he only shrugged, with a tolerant half-smile.

“Partially collapsed lung,” he said off-handedly. “It’s better now.”