Chapter 4

Chapter

Four

S kylar woke the next morning feeling a bit disoriented. She'd almost become accustomed to the deep vibrating hum that seemed to suffuse her entire being when he was near. But now, annoyingly, it seemed to have become a part of her that pulsed in rhythm with her own heart. What awakened her instead was the soft light drifting through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows of Travis's loft apartment. They were at least eighteen feet high and the antique glass had a kind of hazy filtering effect.

Her hands were no longer restrained. Travis had reached for her sometime during the night to draw her beneath him, and he'd removed the cuffs. She had to admit, if only to herself, that being cuffed for their second encounter had intensified her arousal and need for the tall, muscular alpha wolf chef. She was a bit surprised, however, that he wasn't now lying next to her in bed.

"Travis?" she said, sitting up and wincing.

The wolf she'd shared a bed with last night had an evil hand when he was subjecting her to his discipline, and a completely sensual touch when he made love to her. While her ass hurt, her nether region was wickedly sore, but in a very satisfying way.

She was awakened as he rolled her to her belly, caressing her tender globes while he whispered kisses along her spine, nuzzling as he went. His index finger trailed down the cleft of her butt cheeks.

"I'll have this in time. You'll give it to me," he murmured.

"If you know so much about me from the clubs I've played at, you'll know anal is a hard limit for me. I'll expect you to respect that."

He chuckled. She could not only hear the sound of his voice, but she could also feel the emotion behind it as the sound raced along her skin like a butterfly skimming along her flesh, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"No, Sky. I won't have to take it, you'll surrender all of yourself into my care," he said, pressing against her dark rosette. "Including this."

"Travis," she moaned as she tried to squirm away from him. "I need to go home. You've got to let me go."

She hoped the sound of her voice was far more convincing to him than it was to her own ears, because she wasn't at all sure she wouldn't give him everything he wanted. The man was like an addictive drug, and she feared she was already beginning to crave his touch. His hand landed two swats to her still painful buttocks.

"You'll stay where I put you," he purred. "You're mine and you will give yourself over to me. But I'm willing to take the cuffs off, if you promise to behave at least until after breakfast."

"Why not ask me to become the sweet, compliant she-wolf of your dreams?"

Travis chuckled as he released her from the restraints. "Because we both know I know you better than that. Besides, feisty, fractious fated mates are so much more fun to tame."

His hands slid under her body, unerringly finding and cupping her breasts, gently pinching her nipples and making her wriggle for an entirely different reason other than discomfort.

Travis spread her legs and rolled up onto his knees, sliding his hands down her body until he had a firm grip on her hips and was pulling her into position. He released her hips with one hand, delving between her legs and confirming the state of her arousal.

His habit of only mounting her from behind was becoming irksome. She renewed her struggling, trying to find some semblance of control or at least equality in the sex between them.

Another slap to her bottom. "No. Until we're mated and I drive my knot into you, you'll only get fucked in the most male-dominant positions."

That was it. She was done with his bullshit. She tried to flip over by knocking him away. He smacked the other ass cheek and ran his hand down her spine, pressing her chest into the bed.

"Not the way to get what you want, Skylar," he growled, his cock head probing between her legs, seeking its target.

Once it was acquired, he surged forward, groaning as he did so. "God, you feel good—so warm and wet." He tugged on one of her nipples and she moaned as desire sizzled along her skin. "I am definitely picking up some nipple clamps to use on you."

He thrust in and out of her and she was quickly lost to both the rhythm and power with which he fucked her. Nothing and no one had ever made her feel this way. It wasn't just physical. She could feel and hear him rumbling deep in his throat, calling to her in the ancient way of their kind. Her body responded in the same way as every other she-wolf called to her fated mate—it softened and prepared itself to pleasure him and be pleasured in return.

"You're so tight. I swear your pussy is trying to strangle my dick."

"That isn't the only part of me that wants to strangle you," she snarled.

Again he laughed as he pounded into her. "You're so beautiful, and the sight of my cock sliding in and out of you is incredible. You make me crazy," he groaned.

He drew back only to thrust back inside her in a single hard pass. There was nothing tentative in the way he fucked her. Her pussy began to tremble, and her muscles tightened in anticipation. She knew he could feel her body preparing to climax for him. He pounded into her, reaching around to press her clit as she screamed his name into the pillow.

"At some point in the not-too-distant future, I'm going to spend an entire afternoon doing nothing but fucking you, but tomorrow we both have things to do. I'll make you so tired and sore you won't know what to do with yourself."

He never broke his rhythm as she orgasmed and her pussy contracted all along his length, trying to keep him inside. He fucked her hard and fast and she felt the pressure building again. It was as if she were caught in a hurricane and Travis was her only port in the storm. He bore down on her, allowing his body to rest against hers.

The only saving grace that she could come up with was that he was almost as savage in his need for her as she was for him. The noises he made were only part man, and all wolf. He held her tight, pummeling her pussy until she came again and he drove home one last time. He held her punished backside hard against the cradle of his pelvis and pumped her full of his cum.

Travis collapsed on top of her, pressing her into the mattress. She had been gripping the bars of the headboard throughout his onslaught. His hands came up to cover hers, and he drew her close as he rolled from her body.

"I know you don't want to hear it but I love you, Skylar."

So where did that leave them in the cold light of a new day? He wasn't in bed next to her. Skylar closed her eyes, promising herself she wouldn't give in to tears if it had all just been some kind of strange combination of adrenaline and moon madness.

"Don't, sweetheart. I'm right here. I had a chance to look at what was in the fridge and called in a favor from Central Grocery. They just delivered some food. As I recall, you were rather fond of strawberry blintzes. I can make some, or I can make an omelet or a frittata, or even a quiche."

He set the two grocery bags on the island and came over to her. God, he was gorgeous. When had that happened? When had that gawky, lanky teenage cowboy become a towering, muscular, alpha wolf? He had on cowboy boots. Skylar tried to remember if he'd had them on when he fucked her—in the corner yes, but she seemed to remember him being naked after the first time. She didn't actually remember him taking his boots off, but surely she would have remembered if he'd done otherwise.

He was shirtless and his Levi's hung low on his hips, the top button undone. His state of undress revealed broad shoulders, a gorgeous cut chest, and the most perfect set of washboard abs she'd ever seen. He had blond hair, but it was a richer, darker hue than her own. The apple hadn't fallen far from the tree—he was the spitting image of his father, Cameron. Comparing Travis to her own father, she noted he was taller and wore his hair a bit shorter. She cocked her head, trying to take in all the details about him.

"Question?" he asked.

"When you're cooking, do you wear one of those tall cheffie hats or your Stetson?"

He grinned. "Neither. I generally tie a bandana around my head, so I don't sweat into the food. Cooking in a fast-paced kitchen is hot work." He kissed her shoulder. "So, what do you fancy for breakfast?"

"You," she said, trailing her finger down his cheek and realizing it was the truth.

"That's enough of that. I haven't fucked you enough that a quickie will be anything but a frustrating tease of better things to come. Besides you need to eat. Don't you need to make a report to your superiors? I can't believe there isn't some kind of paperwork that has to be filed. I'm meeting with the architects about the loft and the restaurant. If you want to be here when we're talking about the loft, I can work it around your lunch hour."

"Why would I care?" she said carefully. "It's your place."

"No, Skylar. It's ours. I will tell you that the only area I plan to wall off for privacy is the bath. I was going to have a large shower, and there's an antique clawfoot tub…"

"I'm not exactly a bubble bath kind of girl, Travis," she tossed back over her shoulder, trying to be nonchalant.

He sighed. "It's oversized and will hold both of us. After a long day in the kitchen, I like to take a shower and then relax in a comfortable tub. I plan for you to join me. Don't worry, Sky, I'll make a convert out of you. Now, what kind of food would you like me to make for your breakfast."

She was looking around, trying to ensure she'd gathered all of her things. "I'm not really a breakfast kind of girl either. I'll just grab a beignet and some coffee on my way in."

"If you like beignets, we can stop for one after you've had something more substantive for breakfast. I don't make them myself, but I'll be sure that once the restaurant opens, they're on the menu. We need to get a move on, or you'll be late. How about a breakfast burrito you can eat now and then I'll run into Du Monde's on the way."

"Travis, all of this is really unnecessary. Is there any way I can talk you into just dropping me off at my car?"

"No, there isn't." He ran his hands through his hair. "Look, Sky, I'm willing to let you have more leeway than most mates would because I know your job is important to you and you're damn good at it, but you've got to bend a little too."

"Actually, I don't. I could always press charges against you. I'm pretty sure you left bruises from the death grip you had on my hips, and if I want to get really nasty, I can go by the hospital for a pelvic exam," She stopped talking when she looked at his face. "What?"

"You are not holding the winning hand. First, did you forget the Chief of Detectives is an old friend of your father's? And while he may be human, he does know who and what we are. I'll just let him take a look at your very cute, and I'm sure very red backside, and explain the situation to him, including what you think you know and what you tried to do last night. As I understand it, he thinks a great deal of your father. Then, I can phone your father, drag your ass home?—"

"And just how do you propose to do that?" she snarled.

Travis lifted the lariat that had been in his truck the night before from the post on the end of the bed. "Roped and hog-tied, if I have to."

"You really are a rat bastard," she said, stomping her foot in frustration.

"Yes, and it's my way or the highway. What's it going to be, Skylar? I want your word. And if you break it, I will come down on you like a ton of bricks. Burrito and a ride to your station house, or do we head for Rivière Du Loup and eat with your family?"

Skylar sneered at him, then sighed. "Fine, but I want a beignet as well as my burrito."

He grinned, leaned over, and brushed his lips over hers. "Hot or mild?"

"Any chance you know how to make your mother's mole sauce?"

"I do, but it takes several hours to be done right. I promise to have some by the time I get you home tonight. I'll get someone to help me fetch your car and have it parked down in the garage. If you'll give me your keys, I'll go by your place and get your things."

"And if I don't give them to you?"

Travis shrugged. "I'll break in and get them anyway."

Skylar shook her head. "You would, wouldn't you?"

"I've got a standing clothes rack downstairs. I can bring it up so we can hang all of your clothes until we can go shopping and you can pick out what furniture you like."

She shook her head. "You don't need to go to that kind of trouble. Besides, don't you have designers to do that kind of shit? Really, Travis, how long have you known me? I'm not a girly kind of girl. And don't forget my boots and shoes."

He grinned. "I'll bring all your clothing… well all of it except your panties."

"Why not my panties?"

He kissed her again. "You won't be needing them anymore."

Skylar rolled her eyes. "You're not a rat bastard, you're just a horny male alpha wolf."

"The best you ever had," he said confidently.

"I told you last night, you are the only wolf I've ever had."

"Correction, I'm the only wolf you'll ever have."

The shower wasn't much to get excited about, but Travis had definitely inherited his mother's love and talent for cooking. He drove her to the office, stopping to get beignets not only for her, but for her squad.

He got out of the truck and walked around to her side after preventing her from opening the truck door herself. "What time tonight?"

"I'll call you," she said dismissively.

Travis glanced at his watch. "It's not quite eight. Do you work an eight-hour shift?"

"Ten."

"I'll see you at six."

"You're an asshole, Nichols."

"Love you too, Gautier."

She trotted up the steps, turning back at the top to see him leaning against his truck looking like sex on a stick. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad to have someone at home, or to run with. Especially after last night, she was pretty sure her unsub had been watching her when she went for her morning run.

T ravis watched her as she went up the stairs. She had the most glorious backside and moved with an inner grace and sensuality that he was sure she wasn't aware of. But watching the other men entering the building, he knew it wasn't lost on them. He ran back around the front of the truck, got in, and headed down to the wharf where they'd left her Jeep. When he got there, he saw a crowd gathered around the spot. He parked his truck, got out, and walked over to join them.

"This thing belong to you?" said a man, who appeared to be the dock foreman.

Travis wondered about the use of the word thing until the crowd parted and he saw the charred, still-smoking remains of what had been Skylar's vehicle.

"No, but it belongs to my fiancée. We left it here last night," said Travis, extending his hand. "I'm Travis Nichols. I'm opening a new restaurant over in the French Quarter."

"Well, you'd better call your girl's insurance company and I'll call the cops."

"Don't bother. Let me call them. Skylar's a cop."

The man's eyes widened. "Then this is probably not just vandalism."

Travis shook his head. "I wouldn't think so. If you could clear your people, I'll make some phone calls and get it out of your way."

The foreman nodded and started getting the workers to back off while Travis dialed Skylar's station house and asked for Chief of Detectives Andrew Malloy.

"Malloy here," the chief said when he picked up the phone.

"Chief Malloy? This is Travis Nichols. I don't know if you'll remember me…"

"I sure do. The meal I had at the Sea Wolf in Galveston is bar none the best meal I ever had. I hear y'all are opening a restaurant here in New Orleans. If you're calling for help with a liquor license, I'm afraid?—"

"No, nothing like that," interrupted Travis. "We had that in place before we hired the architectural firm."

"Then what can I help you with?"

"Skylar Gautier works for you."

"Well, technically she answers to one of my lieutenants. She's a good cop; got great instincts."

"We left her Jeep down at the wharf and somebody torched it."

"Damn kids!"

"I don't think so Chief. It's pretty much a smoldering hunk of metal. Somebody wanted it destroyed."

"Fuck. Excuse my language. You have any idea why?"

"I have a couple, but for right now, I'd rather leave that for her to explain."

"Why are you so interested?"

"Skylar is my fiancée."

"I saw her this morning; she wasn't wearing a ring."

"It's getting sized. I was hoping to pick it up later today." Travis was somewhat shocked at how easily the lies came. "I'm not a cop but thought you might want your tech guys to look at this."

"You thought correct. Can you secure the scene until I get people there?"

"Sure. Will you bring Skylar?"

"I think it's best. If she gets too emotional, you can take her home."

"Sky won't do that. She'll want to find whoever did it. The Jeep was a gift from her godmother."

"I'll have people en route as soon as I can, and I'll bring Skylar with me. Can you stay until she gets there?"

"I wouldn't want to be any place else."

H e watched from his hiding spot. So, the cowboy was back. He had been disappointed when he'd returned and found the Jeep. When he'd checked the Gautier bitch's shabby little apartment, he'd found it empty. He had checked for any kind of notes or laptop or tablet that might have clues as to what she'd figured out, but he'd found nothing.

He'd returned to the Jeep and after ripping it apart in a rage because there had been nothing there as well, he'd doused it with lighter fluid and set it alight. He'd been surprised that no one had seen or reported it. Well, not really. The wharf could be a rough place, which was why it made the perfect hunting grounds.

He could feel his engorged cock. It had been hard since he'd torched the Jeep. Those little blue pills had nothing on him. Time to go hunting again tonight.