Chapter 4

Jacob pushed Faith out the door of the bar, leaving Danson and Hawke to follow. Inside, it sounded as though the whole place was erupting into a fight. Nothing surprising, Faith knew. Too much alcohol, too much testosterone. The combination was sure to cause trouble.

“Took you long enough to show up,” Faith bit out as he rushed her to the dirty black SUV parked behind the bar.

His arm was wrapped around her waist, holding her close to his larger body as he pulled her to the parking lot. Now wasn’t the time for her damned lust to spark and turn on full force, yet she felt it heating, moistening her, preparing her for him.

“Danson, take Faith’s buddy with you. I’ll call in the morning. Hide deep. I don’t have time to bust your asses out of the local lockup,” Jacob called back, his voice dark, violent as the hand riding low on her back pushed her faster to the vehicle

“Hey wait, that’s my partner,” Faith protested as Hawke followed Danson quickly to a matching vehicle.

“Damned traitor.”

“Get in.” He opened the door and pushed her into the dusty seat quickly before moving to the driver’s

side and jumping in. “We don’t have time to argue over it.”

Faith snarled. Bossy.

Jacob started the vehicle up and accelerated quickly from the parking lot. They were on the main road, heading out of town when sirens flashing on a disreputable sedan rushed past them. Breathing out a hard sigh, she glanced over at her reluctant rescuer. Damn him, he was as handsome as he always had been. His shoulders were broad, clothed in a dark T-shirt that conformed to every line of the lean muscles beneath it. His muscular chest tapered to powerful hips and thighs. His hair was thick and such a dark brown it was nearly black. It framed the hard contours of his features, fell to his shoulders and raked back from his face with careless fingers. In profile, his features were savage, relentless. With high cheekbones, a straight, arrogant nose, and lips that were just shy of full. He had sinfully kissable lips. They made her mouth water.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he finally bit out, dragging her away from her admiration of his male form as he checked the rearview mirror to be certain that the local police weren’t turning back. “Were you looking to get raped, Faith?”

He flashed her a brooding look. He looked sulky and sexy all at once. A prime male, irritated and put out, and just a little aroused. Or a lot aroused if the bulge she had glimpsed in those jeans earlier meant anything.

“Looking for you.” She leaned back in the seat, crossing her arms over her breasts as he maneuvered through the narrow back streets of the small town. “What the hell are you doing here? You know I’ve been looking for you for over two months now? Every time I was certain I had found you, you were gone again. And no, Jacob, I wasn’t looking to get gang raped, as you should well know.”

He shot her a hooded look. Faith decided she didn’t care much for that look. The way his eyes glittered from beneath his lowered lashes affected her too much. For a moment, she remembered the Labs, the lust, white hot and violent as the pleasure tore through her body. She took a deep breath. The mark at her neck, the wound that never healed, throbbed at the remembrance. There was a corresponding pulse in her vagina, and the smooth slide of slick readiness. She didn’t need this. She had fought to forget him for six years. To forget the memory of his touch, the hunger and lust that rose like an inferno as his cock pushed deep inside her anal entrance. The memory of the sheer dominance of the act, the incredible sensuality of it, left her shaking in reaction.

“Are you fucking Hawke?” His voice was a rough rumble as he asked the question. Shock and surprise flared in her at the abrupt question. She felt more than a little insulted at the rough accusation she heard in his voice.

“What business is that of yours?” she bit out. “You have no rights over me, Jacob. Even Wolfe doesn’t ask me anything that personal.”

“Wolfe hasn’t fucked you, so it’s no business of his,” he bit out. “All I want is an answer.”

“Why? And it’s not like you’ve actually fucked me either, Jacob,” she reminded him as she wondered if the act they had shared so long ago had actually constituted sex.

“So I know if I need to kill him or not.”

Faith blinked, not entirely certain that she had heard him right. Not certain if the throb of violence and arousal in his voice was real or a figment of her imagination. Not that she imagined things often, but surely she couldn’t have heard him right.

“Kill him?” she asked for clarification. “For what exactly?”

She watched his hands tighten on the steering wheel, then glanced up to see the muscles at his jaw bunching in anger.

“For fucking you.” That was definitely a cold edge of violence in his voice, she decided. Faith shook her head in amazement.

“You gonna break my vibrators too?” she asked him with false innocence. Silence filled the vehicle. Arousal, hot and pulsing, wrapped around her. Hers and his. She could feel the heat radiating from him now.

“Do you have a vibrator?” His voice lowered, thickened. Faith narrowed her eyes, watching him carefully.

“Several,” she assured him mockingly. “Tucked away nice and safe at home. So let’s conclude our business so I can return to them, or I might be forced to fuck Hawke. You know how it is, Jacob, a woman needs her fix.”

His lips thinned. Faith turned away from him. She didn’t want to look at his lips, didn’t want to remember the feel of them. But the flesh between her thighs remembered. Clearly. It pulsed and throbbed and the slide of her moisture already had her panties damp. Damn, she wished she hadn’t lost her backpack the week before in that frigging hell hole Hawke had dragged her into the last time. Some stupid broad was likely enjoying her little BOB right now. Life just wasn’t fair.

“You didn’t answer me,” he reminded her.

“I resent the question.” Faith shrugged, fighting for nonchalance. “Rephrase it.”

His growl was dark and deep. A primitive, savage sound. He was Alpha, and the demand for an answer had just been voiced.

“No, I’m not fucking Hawke,” she bit out, resentful that he would make a command. “But it’s still none of your business, Jacob.”

He shot her a hooded look, his pale eyes glittering with naked lust. Faith felt her body responding with a surge of moisture that pulsed from her cunt, and a hard ache in her nipples. He had never looked at her like that before. Like he was hungry, starved for her, and didn’t care if she saw. Then just as quickly the look was gone. His gaze became shuttered, considering.

“Everything okay with Wolfe and Hope then?” he finally asked her broodingly, turning his eyes back to

the road.

“They fuck and they fight, then they fuck some more, from what I hear.” She shrugged her shoulders negligently. “I haven’t seen either of them since the day he killed Bainesmith. Thanks for sticking around to help clean up the mess, by the way.”

He slanted her another of those hot looks that went straight to her loins. The ache between her thighs was a warning, a prelude to the hot lusts that occasionally tortured her body. Rather than deal with the sickening displays of male lust she had encountered so far though, she used the cold comfort of her vibrators. She was going to buy stock in Duracell soon.

Silence filled the vehicle as he navigated the narrow alleys and rough roadways until he turned on a rough path that led into the jungle surrounding the town.

“Where are we going?” she finally asked him impatiently. “I need to get back home as soon as I give you the papers Wolfe sent. I do have a life, as I keep reminding our renowned leader.”

“We’re going to a house I’ve borrowed. I’ll read Wolfe’s papers then.” His voice was dark, deep and sexy. Surrounded by the jungle, the sultry heat and the wild sounds of the night, Faith felt an uncomfortable mix of lust and primitive needs. Needs she knew she no longer had the strength to fight. Within minutes, they pulled into a small clearing, surrounded by a high stone fence. Flipping open the dash he pulled out a remote, flipped a switch and the heavy iron gates swung open.

“Nice little place,” she mocked him as he drove into the circle stone driveway and pulled up to a two-story hacienda complete with a wraparound balcony.

“Come on.” He opened the door, sliding smoothly from the seat and walking around the vehicle. Faith followed suit, tucking her hands in the light leather jacket, feeling the press of heat on her skin soaking into her body. Her womb fluttered, her flesh felt sensitized, her breasts swelling beneath the light cotton of her shirt. The reaction was similar to the drugs they had pumped her full of at the Labs. The drugs that raged through her body and lost Jacob to her forever. She entered the house, staring around at the wide foyer, the curving staircase and large open rooms. The interior was cooler than the air outside, but not much. She shed her jacket as they entered, holding it in front of her uncomfortably as she followed Jacob through the long hallway, then into a spacious, well-lit kitchen.

“Beer?” He pulled two from the modern refrigerator and set it on the counter for her. Faith picked up the cold can, popped the lid and drank from it gratefully. The beer at the bar had been tepid and bitter. This went down smooth and cool, but did little to stem the heat she felt between her legs. Holding the beer carefully with one hand, she reached into the inner pocket of her jacket and pulled out the sealed envelope Wolfe had given her months before. It was wrinkled, dusty, but still in fairly good shape. She tossed it on the table and looked at him expectantly as he watched her from the other side of the sink.

“In a hurry?” He arched a brow, his expression mocking.

“I do have a life to return to,” she reminded him blandly.

“Not to mention your vibrators,” he growled, clearly put out with the thought of her toys.

“Yeah, don’t mention my BOBs. I already miss them.”

“Bobs?” he asked, frowning, his brows lowering warningly.

“Battery Operated Boyfriends.” She smiled tightly. “BOBs.”

He grunted. Moving away from the sink, he stalked to the kitchen table as he cast her a brooding look. He pulled out a chair and waved towards it before moving to the other end to take a seat himself. Faith took the offered chair then took another long drink from the beer. The liquid was cool, but more than that, its potency seemed to ease the tight knot of nerves in her chest. Jacob had always made her nervous. Since she was young, she had looked up to him, idolized him, and then coveted his touch. She had gotten more than she had bargained for in that. As he tore the envelope open and began reading the letter, Faith finished her beer then laid her head on the table. She was tired. The last two months had left her with little time to sleep as she searched for Jacob. Not that she had slept much before that. And damned if that fight hadn’t worn her out. Her body ached all over. Unfortunately all the aches weren’t due from the fight.

* * * * *

Jacob looked over at Faith as he read the last page of the letter. He sighed tiredly. He had wondered why Wolfe hadn’t just used the damned cell phone to contact him. Now he knew why. Faith. Delicate and as fragile looking as ever.

She had filled out in the past years, her breasts and hips were fuller, her legs more defined and sexy as hell. But she wasn’t the girl he had known six years before. The girl he had known would have balked at six goons attempting to rape her. She would not have waded into a fight so eagerly. She was a negotiator, and a damned good one, not a killer.

As Pack Liaison, Faith had coordinated the known Packs, working between the Pack leaders and aiding in bringing peace among them rather than open warfare in some cases, as many of the Packs were eager for bloodshed rather than peace. She was also a courier between Council informants and Wolfe. But Faith wasn’t a fighter. Until now.

He wiped his hands over his face with an irritated motion. Damn life, it tried to kick his ass every chance it got, and this time it could be the final blow. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He glanced back at the papers, reading over them once again.

Information I’ve gathered indicates Faith is in heat, a prelude to the violent sexual frenzy that begins genetic altering in the ovaries. You marked her and as, apparently, she can bear no other touch, it’s up to you to breed her. I’m sick of paying the bills on her damned vibrators. Take care of it. I know from the time I’ve spent with Hope now, that the mark you left on Faith is the same as the one I left on Hope. She’s your mate, bound to you and to your body. We aren’t certain how it works yet, or what the mating frenzy means in terms of our Breed, but it’s a serious enough condition to be a cause for alarm. Expect a measure of anger, fury. Her mood swings will become wild, and I have no doubt she’s as angry over your desertion as Hope was and still is, over mine. The mark meant much more than we thought it did, six years before. The affects of it are immediate, and remnants of it never entirely leave the system. I’m still gathering information, but in Faith’s case, the symptoms appear stronger than they were in Hope’s. Faith is becoming impulsive, temperamental and antagonist. This worries me daily, as it seems to grow worse daily. Caffeine and alcohol appear to make these effects worse, and over stimulate the body. Faith’s intake of both is exceedingly high recently. They will make the arousal sharper, the degree of it higher. Trust me, Jacob, you want to limit this as much as possible unless your stamina is equal to that of a rabbit. It was my intention to steer clear of your relationship with Faith, as you know. I’m more than aware that you feel the mating that occurred in the labs was too close to rape. I’ve never agreed, but the time to address it never seemed to present itself. I am now forced, as Pack Leader, to address it anyway. Aiden and I are in agreement on this. It is time to make your peace with that night, and with Faith, before she comes to serious harm. I expect a report from you soon.

The letter was much longer, the explanations more in-depth than he was comfortable with, but Jacob clearly understood why his Pack Leader had sent Faith on a fool’s mission. Or was it a mission to find a fool? He shook his head in mockery. Could he have been wrong? Was she stronger than she appeared?

Able to withstand not just his lifestyle, but also his lusts?

Not the way she looked right now, sleeping like a baby, her head pillowed on her jacket. Part of Wolfe’s letter was filled with his worry for her. Her nocturnal habits and lack of sleep. The edge of weariness that lay on her like a cloak, dulling her black eyes, giving her creamy skin a pale appearance. But she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. His dick reminded him forcefully just how much a woman she was.

For years he had awakened in a nightly sweat, his cock spurting as he dreamed of being surrounded by the wet heat of her ass, her muscles clenching on him, holding him tight inside her as she took every inch of his cock and backed into him for more. What had always confused Jacob was that it wasn’t his cum he was spurting. The fluid was slick, the amount not overly large, but enough to worry him. Unfortunately, there was no explanation for that one in the letter.

He breathed wearily, his eyes falling on the empty beer can as he grimaced. No more alcohol for Faith. The side effects sounded pleasant, though he doubted her system needed the added burden. His cock had twitched in anticipation as he read that part of the letter, but he instantly rejected using such means to control her lusts. The first time he had touched her, taken her, had been due to the potency of the drugs pumping through her system. Next time he took her, he wanted no outside influences, no side affects, and no drugs.

He rose from the table and went to her. Hunching down beside her, he stared into her delicate face. Her lips were parted, damp and tempting. Her auburn lashes lay thick and long on her cheeks. Her high cheekbones and slanted eyes gave her a mysterious, seductive appearance.

“Faith?” He allowed himself the pleasure of gently moving a strand of silken hair from her cheek, letting his finger caress the silk of her skin.

He wondered if she still used the lotion he had started her on when she was barely a teenager. Wolfe had managed to take care of the details of it, but it had been the precious hoard of money Jacob kept hidden that had bought it. Expensive, non-scented, but with enough moisturizers to keep her skin satin smooth.

He had always marveled at the creamy tone of her skin. She wasn’t dark skinned as the males of the pack were. She had a perfect peaches and cream complexion, beautiful and so damned seductive she took his breath. Feeling the silken texture now, the warmth and resiliency of her skin made his blood heat at the thought of tasting her, running his lips and tongue over her.

“Faith?” He whispered her name again.

She didn’t answer, merely breathed in deeply as though his voice somehow satisfied her.

“Wake up, baby,” he whispered. “You make me carry you to bed and I might end up fucking you in your sleep.”

She licked her lips and breathed in softly, but didn’t wake. He could sense the weariness filling her. She was dead tired. Exhaustion, alcohol and nerves. Jacob shook his head. At least she was too tired for the lusts that Wolfe warned could accompany the alcohol. Evidently, the Felines had been studying the mating anomalies of their Pride while the Wolf Breeds were just fighting for survival. Damned cats, he growled silently. He had met with their Liaison, Tanner, several years before. A cocky, arrogant feline intent on causing nothing but trouble. His kidnapping of an influential Council member’s daughter had nearly caused an international incident. His mating of her had caused trouble for the Feline Pride as well as the Wolf Packs.

Sighing wearily, Jacob rose to his feet then picked her up from the chair. She grumbled a bit, but tucked herself into his chest and sighed again. She was too light, too easy to carry. Wolfe said she had lost weight recently, and it appeared it was weight she could ill afford to lose. Holding her securely in his arms, he went up the wide staircase and into the bedroom beside his own. The large bed, draped with mosquito netting, was perfectly made in case of company. The servants came in daily and kept everything prepared.

He pulled the light comforter and silk sheets back from the pillows and settled her on the bed. He had intended to let her sleep clothed, to let her undress herself, anything but do what he knew he was going to do.

Jacob had to forcibly still the trembling of his fingers as he finished pulling the shirt from the waistband of her jeans. The small buttons slid easily from their moorings, the soft fabric parting, falling over her stomach, but catching at her breasts as the last button slid free. The backs of his fingers slid over her skin, flesh as soft as the finest silk with a soft glow of creamy perfection. Lifting her up, he slid the shirt from her body as a muted moan whispered past her lips. She shifted in his arms, causing the hard tips of her nipples to brush against his shirt, burn through to his chest. He laid her back on the bed, staring down at the full, ripe mounds of her breasts. They were swollen and firm, the nipples peaked and hard. Breathing in carefully, his hands went to her jeans. The snaps slid free easily, the material parting and revealing the tender skin of her abdomen. Taking a deep breath, he moved to her boots and managed to unlace them without tangling the strings too badly. He returned to the jeans then, they slid from her body easily, leaving her clad only in a triangle of damp, peach colored silk. Her legs shifted, and in the dim light he could easily see the plump lips of her cunt, and the moisture that had soaked through the fabric.

Jacob swallowed tightly. He could smell her arousal, just as he had for the last hours. It swelled his cock, made him drunk on his need for her. He knew if he didn’t get away from her, if he didn’t leave the room, he would touch her. And if he touched her, Jacob knew he would fuck her. Reaching across her, he dragged the comforter over the perfection of her body.

“Damn,” he muttered, turning away from her. “Damn it all to hell.”

She was worn to the bone and he knew it. So tired that she fell asleep sitting up, her head pillowed on her arms as she tried to rest, and all he could think about was fucking her.

* * * * *

Faith heard his curse, and watched from beneath lowered lashes as he left the room, closing the door softly behind him. A tear slid from the corner of her eye before she managed to blink the others way. She turned on her side, curling into a ball as she fought the arousal pulsing through her body. She was so hot, she pushed the blanket from her body, and wished for nothing more than an air conditioner, preferably set on the lowest temperature possible.

Damn him. Would it have hurt him to touch her, to have eased the agony that the sight of him created?

She sneered at herself. As though she wanted to beg him again, only to have him leave before he could ease the suffering. She had survived without his touch, without his cock for six years now, she would survive the rest of her life without it.

Her hands were still clenched in anger, and the dark, vibrant need still pulsed through her body. Her vagina ached, a physical, almost painful emptiness that haunted her. She needed to get away from Jacob, and get away from him quickly, before she made more of a fool of herself than she already had. She would leave the next morning, she decided. She had found Jacob and given him whatever Wolfe had sent; now it was time to go.

Faith held back her whimper of longing. She ached now. Her eyes closed tightly as she rolled to her back and stared up at the ceiling. She listened to Jacob in the next room. Drawers closing, a door, the shower. She imagined him stripping, his body hard and muscular, broad and tall. And she knew the sight of his erect cock was more than impressive.

His long, dark brown hair would flow past his shoulders and beneath the spray of the shower would become so dark it would be black. His pale blue eyes would close, the scent of soap and man would mix with the steam, overpowering the senses, making her dazed with the need to taste him. She whispered his name, a hungry sound that made her chest ache with her need to touch him, to be touched by him. Then the sound of the shower was silent. Long minutes later the door closed and she heard him returning downstairs. She sighed wearily, clenched her teeth and resigned herself to yet another long, sleepless night.