Wicked Deeds on a Winter's Night

31

If the others hadn't already figured out that she and MacRieve had been intimate, they would have guessed by his behavior.

When the two of them had silently dressed and rejoined everyone, he'd had his shoulders back, sporting a victorious expression. His eyes kept straying to her, his gaze heated, and proprietary.

His obvious sense of satisfaction was a one hundred and eighty degree contrast from the glower he'd sported all morning. Now he was the epitome of masculine satisfaction.

She sighed. And damn, it was a good look for him.

Rydstrom and Tera cast her quizzical glances. Cade—with one of his eyes swollen nearly closed and his jaw already mottled with bruises—again focused on her neck. When she flushed under his scrutiny and glanced away, she heard him mutter to MacRieve, "Still don't see your mark."

His tone so smug, MacRieve said, "Day's no' over, demon."

At that, Cade flashed a look at her, then said, "I'll take point again," seeming to want to get away from them.

The group began following the riverside up the mountain, and again the terrain made for single-file going. Which was good. She needed to process everything that had just happened. Again, all she knew was that too much had.

From behind her, MacRieve said, "Doona worry about what they think."

"Of course, you can say that. They're not going to think you're weak. Or easy."

"No way they could consider you weak. They've seen too many demonstrations of your power. And no' easy either—all they'll believe is that such a young lass as you was no match for the seduction skills of a twelve-hundred-year-old Lykae."

Under her voice, she said, "Whatever—I jumped you! I started it."

"Aye," he began solemnly, "and that was a highlight of my long life."

"Riiight." Flustered, she stepped over an ant line, studiously regarding the leaves they carried.

"It's true, Mariketa. Though it is a shame I dinna get a chance to pay more attention to your pretty arse."

"Shh!" she hissed in a whisper. "They'll hear you!"

"Hear me? You worry about that now when you were just moaning so lustily? Do you always make so much noise?"

Her face flamed when Tierney, the next in line to her, glanced over his shoulder with raised brows. She slowed to let the others take more of a lead.

"Do you, then?" MacRieve asked again.

Fine, she could play. She turned to him, and in a monotone voice, she said, "Oh, baby. Oh, Bowen. It was you. Only you."

He grinned, and the sight made her want to grin, too. They were following the cascading river, and the sun was shining, and she'd just had two orgasms—her mood had definitely improved.

No! She couldn't get caught up in his palpable excitement, because she knew it wasn't due only to what they'd just done, but what he expected them to do.

Yet every time she tried to call up her previous anger toward him, she kept picturing him frowning as he asked Rydstrom what jangle pop was. Somehow, she knew MacRieve hadn't asked out of mere curiosity but because he was trying to learn, for her.

And the simple fact was that, Hekate help her, she liked being around him. Even when she'd despised him, she'd somehow been buoyed by his presence. Now that she didn't despise him, he excited her, gladdened her...

From mere inches behind her, he said, "Was wondering, do you always come so quickly?"

"I don't know—do you?"

He gave a half laugh. "Demanding witch. You forget how long I went without. But I'm a swift rebounder." He furtively grabbed her hand and made her cup his growing erection.

If he was trying to embarrass her, he'd have to do better than that. Not missing a beat, she said, "Why, Bowen, I do believe you're flirting with me." Without glancing back, she rubbed with curiosity. After giving it a heft that made him rock his hips to her hand, she released him, blithely continuing on.

His voice rough, he said, "I must no' be any good at flirting if you doona know for certain." In a dry tone, he added, "Maybe I should be more direct?"

She couldn't help it—she chuckled, but covered it with a cough. She was supposed to be the one who could charm, but he was doing a damn commendable job, making her grin against her will.

Was she so easy that a mere two earth-shattering orgasms and her unwavering attraction to him could make her forgive their past? As she inwardly answered herself, she thought, Then why fight it? Mari had never been one to fight battles, much less losing ones.

He leaned over her and murmured at her ear, "Show me those bonny breasts."

"You just saw them!" she cried in exasperation, though she was secretly pleased by how much he seemed to appreciate her body.

"If I had my way, witchling, you'd never wear a top again."

She was biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling but didn't want him to see, so she quickened her pace. "Shouldn't you be concerned with getting me safely out of the jungle?"

"Come, then, remind me what I'm so happy to die for."

He was so... wolfy. So teasing. And Mari realized this was kind of fun. She half-expected him to play-trip her and start nipping at her ears. And she suspected she'd love it.

She waited, giving him enough time to drop back and assume she was ignoring him, then turned with her brows—and her top and bra—raised, flashing him. He took a stutter step, tripping over his feet. With his hands over his heart, he fell to his knees; she yanked her clothes down and whirled around, continuing on with a goofy smile.

But he was right behind her in an instant. "You good girl," he rasped. "Give us a feel, then." She swatted at him. "Tease."

"Temptress," she countered.

"Aye, that you are. No' ten minutes ago, you made me come till my eyes rolled back in my head, and already you've got me randier than I was with my first milkmaid."

She turned and tapped her chin. "Hmm. Would you like me to wear a corset and bend over a pail?"

His jaw slackened. "Only if you want to see a man instantaneously spill his seed."

She gazed at his thick erection. "Sounds like a date, then."

He groaned, rushing up to her side again. "I'm a heartbeat away from taking you aside and bending you over the next boulder."

Ha! "Then keep an eye out for one that's about this"—she tapped her flattened hand at her hip bone—"high."

"Ach, I like this with you! I doona remember the last time that I felt something was... " He trailed off, as if he didn't quite recognize what they were experiencing.

"Fun?" she supplied.

"Aye, fun. And I believe I've discovered the key to you."

"What's that?"

"If I slake you, in return I get a smiling lass. I like this deal, kitten."

"Damn it, MacRieve, if you keep calling me kitten, then I'm going to start calling you something equivalent, like hound dog—and then we'll both be losers."

He grinned at that and asked, "So how much of my conversation with Rydstrom did you hear?"

She pressed her fingers to her chest. "Whaa... ?"

"Come, then. I know you were eavesdropping, witch. What did you hear?"

"I heard you say you think I'm sexy. The... sexiest."

"Aye, easily," he said, making her want to preen. "And what about you? You're more attracted to me than you were to your boy demon."

"Boyfriend. I said he was my boyfriend. And even if I was more attracted to you, I'd never feed your ego by telling you."

"How did you get him to let you go?"

"Why?" she asked, feeling herself softening even more toward MacRieve. "Do you think he had a hard time of it?"

MacRieve gave her an impatient scowl as if her question was ridiculous. And for the second time, Mari thought, I might be in over my head with this male.

But I'm thinking I like it.

"How long were you with him?"

She shrugged. "Almost seven years."

"That's nearly a third of your life!" he thundered. "Christ, I doona care for that. Did you... did you love him, then?"

"Yes," she answered honestly.

His voice broke lower when he asked, "Do you love him still?"

Over her shoulder, she said, "I guess a part of my heart will always be his."

When she realized MacRieve had stopped, she turned. She found his jaw clenched, his irises turning ice blue once more, and his claws shooting longer and darker. She was witnessing more of the beast even than before.

Mari swallowed, again reminded that this was an adult Lykae male. And one who thought she was the mate he'd ached for over centuries. She was playing with fire. No more teasing, no more toying with the sex-starved werewolf. "Just forget I said anything—"

He pressed her against a tree, out of sight of the others. "I want to stab my claws into this demon's neck and rip out his goddamned spine."

"MacRieve, just wait... "

His hand shot out, covering the back of her head. He leaned down to her ear. "Tonight, I'm going tae make you mine, Mariketa." His accent was thick, his voice rough, as if even his vocal chords were altered as he began to turn. "This other male might have part of your heart, but I will possess all of your body." He ran his other hand from her neck down to her breasts, cupping them both in turn. Under his hot, rough palm her nipples were still throbbing—just as he'd promised. "Mark my words, I will claim you so thoroughly you will no' recall any other."

Intensity... Gazing up at him, she felt so small and vulnerable and recognized that she should be afraid. Instead she was aroused once more—from his deep voice, from his hand fondling her, from the idea of his taking her hard, possibly within hours.

"After this night, you'll arch tae my touch and crave my kiss. When the heat is upon you, every inch of your body will recognize mine as its master."

She gave a shaky breath, shocked—and yes, excited—by his words and by his confidence.

"It's as good as done, witch."