Stryker (Boys of Wynter Book 1) Page 11

  Jemma patted my arm. "Sure thing, sweetie. Let me just get a pitcher of beer to a table and then we can slip into my office."

  Wilder and Flint had finally gotten curious about my meeting with Feenix. I should have anticipated Flint smacking me on the back as a greeting, but my mind was only focused on Willow.

  "Fuuck," I muttered through gritted teeth as his hand landed right over the injury.

  Flint's eyes rounded as he lifted his palm and saw the blood that had seeped through my shirt. Maximus saw the interaction and slid over next to us to see what the hell was going on.

  Flint grabbed a napkin and wiped off the blood. "What the fuck? Was that from Feenix?"

  "Paygon but technically Feenix," I managed to push the words through a clenched jaw.

  Wilder grabbed my glass of whiskey and handed it to me. "Here, drink. You look like shit."

  I swallowed back the liquor. They leaned in so that I could talk through the music without others hearing.

  "I need to get the girl off the mountain. I need to find Willow. She's not safe."

  "What do you mean?" Flint asked. "Who's after her?"

  "Feenix. Her father promised Willow to Feenix. It's fucking crazy. I have to find a way to keep her away from Paygon. Feenix sent him out to scour the mountain for her."

  Maximus straightened. "Let's go then."

  "When I left Wynter, I was sure if I went to her, I'd lead Paygon right to her door. He took some hellhounds with him."

  Flint leaned his arm up on the bar. "Even so, Paygon is such a fool, he'll probably still be searching that mountainside all night."

  "I was going to have Jemma let Sabre know she had to get Willow out of that cabin. But shit, Max, the more I think about it, you're right. Fuck Paygon. Let's go."

  Maximus turned his glass straight up to finish the contents and then smacked it enthusiastically on the counter.

  "Stryker, I'm ready for that talk." Jemma motioned with her head to the backroom.

  "Thanks anyway, Jem, but I've got my pack. They're all I need."

  I turned away from the bar. Wilder, Maximus and Flint followed behind, but we all stopped just a few feet into our exit. The small figure, made faceless by the deep hood, had stopped in the center of the aisle. It seemed as if all eyes were on the quiet stranger.

  Slim, honey-colored hands poked out from the long ends of the cloak. My pulse rushed ahead to remind me that I knew those hands very well. The hood slipped back off her raven black hair. Even the shabby lighting in the bar couldn't hide the opalescent streaks.

  "Holy shit," Maximus muttered behind me. "No fucking wonder you've been so out of it."

  I worked hard to convince myself that I wasn't just imagining the girl in front of me. Everything about her was naturally so unreal that it made my task that much harder. I lifted my eyes to the wood beamed ceiling.

  "Please, please. I know I have never done one fucking thing to deserve someone like her, but please let her be real."

  A fuzzy white head popped out from under her long cloak. Willow peered up at me. "Hello, Stryker."

  "Willow." I closed the gap between us in two steps, pulled her into my arms and kissed her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Willow

  I was well aware that we were surrounded by curious onlookers, including Stryker's pack mates, but for a few long moments, I allowed myself to imagine that we were alone in my remote cabin, locked in a passionate kiss. I hadn't realized how badly I'd wanted that moment and that kiss until I saw Stryker walk into the bar.

  Reluctantly, he lifted his mouth from mine. He reached up his hand and brushed his fingers along the side of my face. "Can't believe you are standing here in my arms. I never thought I'd see you again."

  "Circumstances have changed a bit since you rode off on your horse."

  His friends drew nearer. I had only seen his pack mates in wolf form, but I instantly recognized them in human form. They were a formidable looking bunch, and I didn't envy the Wynter miscreants who were their prey.

  The giant one, who stood even a few inches taller than Stryker and who took up a great deal of space in the bar, put out his hand. "I'm Maximus." My hand was temporarily swallowed up by his. He had piercing dark eyes, but his hair was dark gold. He wore it shaved short on the sides but with a long queue down his back. It was easy to match him to the massive straw colored wolf that'd visited the cabin on that long, stressful night when I waited to see if the antidote had worked.

  "Hello, and thank you. Thank you all for closing the storm shutters that night. I don't think my windows would have withstood the storm.”

  Stryker pointed to his friend who had unique slate gray eyes and a head of hair that reminded me of weathered copper. "This is Flint."

  Flint's smiling gaze did not leave my face as he lifted my hand and kissed it. "Thank you for keeping our boy alive. For the most part, he's a pain in the ass, but things just wouldn't be the same without him."

  Stryker arched a dark brow at him and then pointed to his third friend, a man with thick, dark brown hair and blue eyes. He had the kind of face that could steal every woman's heart and no doubt he had. "This is Wilder."

  Wilder, too, kissed my hand. Maximus growled lightly. "Now why the hell didn't I think to do that?"

  I smiled at him as I raised my hand back to him for a kiss, which he gladly accepted. They were just as I'd expected, charming and visually stunning, and they left you with no doubt that they were four of the most fearless, dangerous men to walk the earth.

  Introductions over, Stryker took my hand and lowered his voice. "We need to get you out of here. Feenix has sent his brother, Paygon, to look for you."

  "I know. That's why I left the mountain. I saw Paygon down below in the valley. I hope you don't mind that I came here to Cliffmoor. I had nowhere else to go."

  He kissed me again and then gazed at me with those pale eyes that I'd memorized. "I'm glad you came to me." He kissed me again. "I'm really fucking glad."

  Flint put his hand on Stryker's shoulder. "Even though Paygon isn't welcome here in the Seven Sins, you know that never stops him from bursting in with all his ugly stench. Take her to the beach, Stryker. We'll watch out for Paygon."

  Gunner had stuck to my heels like a pair of warm socks. The fox had never been more than a few miles from the cabin, and he had certainly never been around so many strangers. He stayed under the hem of my cloak and walked alongside of me as Stryker took hold of my hand and led me past the inquisitive stares and out the door of the bar.

  The small, unlit parking lot was made darker by the tall, surrounding pines. Stryker's fingers squeezed around my hand as we sidled through a maze of shiny black and chrome motorcycles. We stopped at one with a long leather seat and low wide handlebars.

  Stryker looked back at me. "Have you ever been on a motorcycle?"

  "Oh sure, dozens of times."

  "I didn't think so. It's a short trip to my beach house. We can tuck Gunner in between us, but you'll have to stretch your arms forward to hang on to me."

  "Got it. Stretch forward. Hang on to you."

  My words made him smile. He lifted my hand and kissed the inside of my wrist. It was a quick, light kiss, but it sent that same familiar heat through me, the same heat I'd felt the whole time he was with me in my cabin.

  "Don't let go, Willow." The words made sense with the conversation we'd been having, but I knew there was an entirely other meaning behind them.

  "Never again," I answered. I had left the mountain for my safety, but as I scurried through the forest shadows, feeling very alone and certain that I would never see my cabin again, my heavy heart went straight to Stryker. I had been despondent and heartbroken since he left. I knew that I had to find him. I needed him. Of course, even after I'd made the decision to head to Cliffmoor, there had been that annoying seed of doubt trying to take root in my mind, the notion that Stryker wouldn't be happy to see me. It had been easy to convince myself that once he'd returned to his life, he had not
given me another thought. But when I finally found the courage to show my face in the bar, his response, the expression on his face, made me nearly weep with relief.

  Stryker climbed on first. I startled as the thunderous motor fired up. The ground beneath my feet vibrated, and Gunner hopped straight up into my arms. I straightened my knapsack on my back and held Gunner close to me as I climbed on behind Stryker's broad back. Instantly, the fox, with his intense sense of smell, began twitching his black nose against Stryker's flannel shirt.

  Black stains had soaked through the worn blue fabric. Stryker looked back over his shoulder as I pushed the shirt up without warning. There were two narrow, black bruises on his back and each bruise was dotted with longs drips of blood.

  "What happened?" I touched the tender skin and he flinched.

  "I had a little run in with the boss. Let's just say Feenix was in an extra bad mood tonight."

  I lowered the shirt and reached up to tuck his hair back behind his ear, so I could get a better look at his face.

  "Because of me?"

  His lack of response said it all.

  "I'm so sorry. I'll take care of those bruises when we get to your house."

  He shook his head enough to wobble the bike. "No, angel, it's my turn to take care of you."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Willow

  Gunner's little body shook between us for most of the ride. But as we got closer to the coast, he lifted his snout up to smell the sea air, seemingly forgetting about the unusual night and the loud machine beneath us.

  On one side of the curvy road, heavy forests of pine and redwoods stood like an evergreen wall. While the other side had a steep drop off, which eventually led to craggy rocks and the vast ocean. Moonlight cut the rippling navy blue water with a long trail of gold, but the reflection of light was dimmed by a set of heavy clouds moving in over the coast.

  The salty air stung my cheeks as Stryker drove us along the deserted coastal road. The air was dank with a clammy fog, but for some reason it comforted me. It was nice to be out of the biting cold of the mountain. It was nice to see the greens and browns of an earth that was not completely smothered by heavy permafrost and snow. Most of all, it was nice to be back with Stryker. After discovering the truth about my father's bargain with Feenix and that I was destined to spend my life in the underworld with a wretched monster, I felt empty with despair. Just seeing Stryker had given me hope that all was not lost.

  Stryker pulled the motorcycle up to a small, unassuming cottage that was missing more than a few roof shingles and that had several colors of paint on a patched up exterior. Somehow, it was just as I'd pictured it.

  Gunner hopped down and went immediately off to explore the thin, reedy grasses separating the tiny cottage yard and the vast stretch of ivory sand.

  A long, yellow board with rounded edges and red stripes was propped up against the side of the beach house. Several chairs had been pressed into the sand on each side of a stone path. My eyes swept along the stretch of beach. There were three more cottages, all similar in size and structure to Stryker's. Steep cliffs, complete with rocky outcroppings stood guard over the beach. Gnarly old trees that seemed to defy gravity and all laws of nature grew out from the craggy, slate colored cliffs. It wasn't the ideal, inviting beachfront that I'd seen in pictures, but I liked the feel of it. The clingy salty air left me with no doubt that I was seaside. The majestic cliffs and pines made me feel as if I was standing at the earthy edge of an ancient forest that had flourished at the ocean's boundary for centuries and that, surely, had plenty of stories to tell.

  I turned back to Stryker. "It's beautiful, just as I pictured it. Just as I pictured you standing in it. By the way, you look very nice in a shirt. I mean not that I'm complaining about the shirtless look on you. Which is also very nice."

  He took hold of my arms and brought me closer for another kiss. After the few unforgettable intimate moments with Stryker, I'd thought nonstop about his kisses and his touch and how badly I wanted to let loose of those inhibitions I'd been using as a lock and key on my natural affinity for passion.

  Stryker dragged his tongue seductively across my lips. My head lulled back, and my lips parted more, inviting him to deepen the kiss. Every inch of my body reacted, and my skin sizzled with a hot blush as I pressed my body against his. The erotic moments with Stryker had erased some of the innocence I'd been holding on to as well. Deep down I'd always known that I possessed a nymph's innate talent, an aura of sorts, that made seduction easy for me. I had denied that it existed. I'd always thought it would be more satisfying to know that I could urge a man to want me with nothing more than my wit and my smile and, of course, my curves. It felt like cheating otherwise. How would I ever know a man wanted me for myself if there was always a little touch of nymph magic helping things along. But the way Stryker held me, kissed me and looked at me as if I was the first and last woman he ever wanted to be with, I decided I didn't mind that little touch of magic after all. Deep down, I knew he cared for me, just as I cared for him, but if my genetic fortunes allowed him to crave me just a little more than he would a mortal woman, I could live with that.

  "Take me inside," I said breathlessly. "Please."

  I hadn't really needed to add the word please. Stryker could barely pull his mouth away from mine long enough to sweep me into his arms. The door smacked the adjacent wall as he shoved it open with his boot. He lowered my feet to the ground. Gunner, the fox who preferred a cozy house to the great wild, shot past us and quickly found a place on a cushioned chair. I dropped my satchel, my few belongings on the floor next to the chair and turned to look at Stryker. I hadn't imagined any of him. He was truly an incredible specimen, from head to toe.

  It had been unleashed. We had teased and toyed with each other in my cabin. I'd been busy exploring my power over a naked man and everything that a human as magnificent as Stryker could offer physically, and he'd given me a taste of what it felt like for a man to use that same power over me, quickly dissolving me into a trembling hot mess with just his fingers.

  Stryker's eyes had turned a deep crystal green as he worked at pushing away the layers of cloak and cape wrapped around me. A frantic laugh shot from his mouth. "Is there even a girl under all this wool?" He pulled off the scarf I had wrapped around my neck and tossed it away.

  I could hear the fabric on my old, worn sweater tear as he lifted it up and over my head. He gazed down at the tattered undershirt that was stretched tight over my ample breasts. I was suddenly hyperaware of my lack of feminine underclothes. In my young years, in the meadow, I knew the older teens and women took pride in making silky under things from the thread of the silkworm and the plush white cotton grown in the fields. My mom spent painstaking hours sitting with a thin needle and gossamer thread sewing tiny white pearls and intricate lacey details on bras and sexy sleepwear. I had begged her to make me one of her pretty confections too, but she'd always told me I was too young and that my father wouldn't approve. I couldn't understand why I ever needed approval from a father who was no more than an imagined vision and voice in my head.

  I crossed my arms over my ugly undershirt, an action that thoroughly displeased Stryker. His dark brows pushed together. He took hold of my hands to pull them away from my body. "I want to see all of you, my diamond studded darling. Every inch of you." He released my hands, and before I could take another breath, he swept the undershirt up and over my head.

  The feral growl that followed could easily have come from his inner wolf. It should have frightened me or at least given me pause, but any hesitation or inhibition was gone, replaced by a fiery need to be naked in his arms and submitting to all his desires.

  My bare breasts puckered in the cool air. My first instinct was to cover myself, but an admonishing look told me not to bother. Stryker dropped to his knees in front of me. He began a tantalizing trail with his tongue, which started at the hollow between my breasts. Who knew that was such an erotic zone, or maybe it was only the
way he stroked me with his talented tongue that had made it so. His mouth continued along my breast and cupped over my nipple as his hands set to work unbuttoning my pants.

  He stopped momentarily to untie and remove my snow boots. I steadied my hands on his strong shoulders, and the thought of those strong shoulders always being there for protection and support made my chest tighten. How badly I wanted that to be the case. How badly I wanted to be his always and forever, but I was being silly. The Boys of Wynter were not known for giving their hearts to any one woman. Then there was still the bleak reality that my father had promised me to Feenix.

  I gazed down at his dark head of hair. The blood stains on the back of Stryker's shirt were there to bring me back to reality. I would never forgive myself if something happened to Stryker because of some evil pact between Feenix and my father.

  In seconds, Stryker had me stripped naked. I had never been naked in front of any man before. With the nearly feral way Stryker looked at me, it unfurled tingling heat between my legs that I knew, with certainty, could only be satisfied by him.

  His low growl circled me as he pushed to his feet and picked me up. It seemed his wolf's blood now boiled beneath the human surface. I could feel it in the strength of his arms, in the heat coming off his skin and in the fiercely determined set of his jaw.

  My arms circled his neck and my legs wrapped around his waist. I rubbed my aching pussy against the fly of his buckskin pants and against the bulging erection behind the fabric. Coherent thoughts left my body as I rubbed my pussy hard against him, coaxing out a hot cream and making me delirious with need.

  "Stryker," I mewled, "Please. Take me. Enlighten me to the world I've been ignoring far too long."

  The green tone in his eyes was now a fiery amber color, the wolf's color, as his gaze dropped to my lips. His mouth covered mine with a punishing kiss that I was sure would leave my lips swollen and tender.