Play of Passion (Psy-Changeling #9)

And then he ran.

Lying between the unzipped halves of her sleeping bag—to ensure a fast exit should she need to move—Indigo finally gave up waiting for Drew and closed her eyes in the shallow sleep she’d learned to utilize in her first year on the watch rotation. Drew, she thought with an exasperated smile, had probably been seduced by the cold, clear night into going for a run.

Her wolf pouted, if a wolf could be said to pout. She’d wanted to go running as well, but had forced herself to come back to the campsite . . . though it hadn’t really taken much force, not when she knew Drew was waiting for her. Frowning, she shifted, uncomfortable with the direction of her thoughts, with the low hum of heat in her abdomen.

Her eyes snapped open as she identified the feeling. Lust. Desire. No doubt about it. When Drew had innocently shrugged off his T-shirt earlier, it hadn’t only been the teenage girls who’d taken notice. Indigo had sucked in a pleased breath at the sight of those solid shoulders, those muscular arms, that gleaming, healthy skin with a shimmer of gold. Then had come the moment in the tent when she’d found herself drinking in the masculine beauty of his naked form.

The prickle of heat in her belly, across her breasts, was exacerbated by the fact that she’d tasted Drew’s kiss, felt that strong body slippery and naked against her own. And now that Drew had let the genie out of the bottle, it refused to be put back in. It didn’t even matter that she knew nothing good could come of even a fleeting sexual relationship.

She’d seen with her own eyes what happened when a dominant female chose a less dominant male, much less one who was four years younger. Pain. Hurt. Anger. Over and over again. A vicious cycle.

None of that mattered to her body.

It knew Drew’s now—more, it knew that they had serious, combustible chemistry.

“It’s just been a long time, that’s all,” she muttered to herself, but even as she said the words, she knew them for a lie. Yes, she was an adult changeling female. Yes, she ached for touch. But she’d always been able to control her needs.

The heat low in her abdomen curled even tighter, a heavy, waiting warmth.

Glaring at the sky, she was in no mood to catch Drew’s scent tangled with the freshness of water. He’d obviously taken a dip in the stream after going running. He was, her mind supplied, likely naked—or at least half-naked. Determinedly shutting her eyes, she tried not to hear anything as he snuck in.

Except it was freaking impossible not to realize that he was throwing a sweaty pair of jeans in a corner and pulling on . . . something light, soft, something that brushed against his skin in a way she couldn’t identify with her ears alone. “You woke me up.”

He froze, and she knew he was looking at her, but she didn’t open her eyes. Refused to give in to the temptation to see what exactly he was wearing. She wasn’t some young female drunk on her own sexuality. She was a woman used to choosing her lovers with care—not being driven to it by the cravings of her body.

“You weren’t really asleep,” Drew said with a hint of a smile in his tone. “And I brought you a present.”

She wasn’t an acquisitive person, but neither was she dead. Blinking open her eyes at last, she couldn’t resist taking a slow tour of his body as he knelt to get something from the pocket of his discarded jeans. Muscled shoulders in shadow, a back so beautiful it cried out to be stroked . . . and boxers. Plain black and—“Silk boxers while we’re camping?”

A shrug that drew her attention to those shoulders again. “They were at the top of the clean laundry.” Finding whatever it was that he’d brought her, he flipped onto his front on his sleeping bag and braced himself on one arm, holding out something in a closed fist with the other.

She stared, suspicious. “I don’t smell anything.” The scent of him—wild and earthy and a little rough—curled around her in an almost physical caress . . . until her wolf growled and nudged at the human half to press her lips to his skin, to satiate the touch-hunger that suddenly had her at breaking point.

Drew extended his fisted hand a little farther. “Come on, Ms. Grumpy, take it.” A teasing smile that made her want to kiss it right off his lips . . . before she tumbled him to the ground and rubbed her body along the warm, muscled strength of his.

Swallowing the insane urge, she turned on her side and held out a hand. He placed a small, light object on her palm. “For your collection.”

She jerked into a sitting position when she saw what it was, crossing her bare legs under her as she brought the small piece of flat rock to her eye. The fossil embedded within it was delicate—a tiny, beautifully preserved leaf. Heart thudding, she brought it even closer.

Oooh, pretty. Perfect.

When she turned to look at Drew’s face as he lay on his back, arms crossed under his head, she saw a smug smile. He looked so pleased with himself that she couldn’t help it—her own lips curved. “How did you know I collect fossils?”

“I see all and know all.”

Scrunching up her nose at him, she cupped the precious fossil in her palm and bent to kiss him on the lips. It was meant to be a thank-you kiss, a little bit of affection between packmates who were close, nothing more. But when he froze under her, when her body turned into one big flame, she knew she’d made a mistake. A mistake that might burn them both to ash.

Wrenching back from the searing contact, she looked down at him, her chest heaving. He watched her with those clear blue eyes that gave away nothing—but his body told its own story. And she could no more stop herself from looking than she could stop the racing beat of her own heart. The flat plane of his abdomen was taut, the golden silk of his skin broken up only by the thin line of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of his boxers. The black silk strained against the proud ridge of his erection.

So strong and beautiful and male—every part of her body warmed with pleasure at having him near. She wanted to reach over, stroke the hard demand of his cock, cup him with her palm, make him lose the control that had his tendons standing out in stark relief against his sk—

Oh, God.

She should’ve said something but couldn’t make her throat unlock, her mouth open. Then Drew shot her a sharp, sheepish grin. “Hey, I can’t help it if I’m male. Stupid biology.” Turning over, he pillowed his head on one arm and went to sleep.

She blinked, not sure what had just happened. But five minutes later and his breathing was easy, even. Putting the precious fossil in the side pocket of her pack—after wrapping it in the soft fabric of an old tee—she finally lay back down and pulled the top flap of her sleeping bag over her uncomfortable body. Her nipples rubbed against the fabric of her T-shirt, taut and aching. Her panties suddenly felt far too constricting, and her wolf—she was pissed at being denied.

Not Drew, she told her wolf again. I couldn’t bear to hurt him. And she would. Because a relationship between a dominant female and a lower-ranking dominant male was never going to end in anything but disaster.

Andrew released his fisted hand what felt like hours later, when he sensed Indigo drop off into real sleep at long last. Turning over carefully onto his back, conscious she’d wake to the slightest awareness of a threat, he allowed himself to run his gaze over the line of her body as she lay with her back to him. She’d kicked off the top of her sleeping bag and the long lines of her legs were bare below the white of her T-shirt, her skin smooth and oh-so-touchable.

Desire spiked again, but intertwined with it was an almost overwhelming tenderness. He wanted to curve his body around hers, wrap his arm over her waist, and tug her close. Just hold her. She might’ve let him earlier, but after that kiss . . . His gut went tight, his wolf pawing at the ground for another taste of her.

She’d wanted him. He’d seen the flare of shocked need in her eyes, glimpsed the hunger of the wolf. But as he’d already learned, when it came to Indigo, hunger alone would never be enough. A less stubborn man might’ve given up, but Andrew was playing for keeps.

She shivered a little.

Moving at once to pull across the top flap of her sleeping bag, he froze, close enough to feel the warmth of her body. What would she do if he snuggled into her? She might let it go, thinking he was doing it in his sleep—or she might kick his ass. The wickedness in him pricked its ears, game to take the risk.

Relaxing his body as much as possible, he spooned himself around her, stroking his arm over her waist. She woke the instant he touched her—but she didn’t shove him away. Nuzzling his face into her hair, he let his eyes close. It was no longer pretense, not with her warm and luscious against him. Sleep began to whisper in his ear, and he decided to let it sweep him into dreams where Indigo didn’t just let him hold her, but so much more.

He had to be asleep, Indigo thought, lying quiescent in the heat of Drew’s embrace. There was no way he’d have done this if he’d been awake—not after the response she’d accidentally incited in both of them. Of course, he was also half demon, so he could be tormenting her to get some of his own back.

Still, when his fingers laced with her own, she relaxed. He was blazingly hot against the mountain chill, Pack she trusted to the deepest core of her soul. Settling herself more comfortably against him, she drifted off to sleep, having no awareness that she’d be jackknifing to dangerous wakefulness less than an hour later.

CHAPTER 14

Miles away, on the outskirts of a sleeping San Francisco, Judd took a seat beside Father Xavier Perez on the back steps of Xavier’s church.

“I’m sorry, Xavier,” he said, knowing the priest would prefer the truth at once. “Gloria is gone, murdered.” He’d gotten the confirmation without having to tap his contacts. Brenna had hacked through a records database, found the death certificate. It had listed “sudden cardiac failure” as the cause of death, but her spotless apartment had told a different story.

Xavier let out a long, slow breath before dipping his head and murmuring a quiet, heartfelt prayer. Judd waited in silence until the other man raised his head. “She dared to reach for something beyond what was permitted,” Xavier said. “And they killed her for it.”