A hand touched her hair lightly, a familiar scent surrounding her. Brock. Of course, it had to be him witnessing her meltdown.
“I’m fine.” Her voice was clogged with tears.
“No, you’re not.” He tipped up her chin, examining her tearstained cheeks. “Fuck. I made you cry.”
Clara tried to push him away, but it was like trying to move a mountain. A mountain of warm, solid flesh that smelled way too good.
“No, it’s not you. I ran into some people I used to know. It made me remember a really bad time in my life.”
“I’m sorry.” The trace of a grin lightened Brock’s face. “Although, have to say, I’m glad it wasn’t me making you feel bad, for once.”
Clara smiled reluctantly. “You really are full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“There, you’re feeling better already. My work here is done.”
He was leaving, just like Tanner, and her parents, everyone she cared about. They always left. Tears crowded her throat again. She swallowed them, fighting against showing her pain. She was too strong for this, wasn’t she?
Brock moved closer, sensing her distress. “You’re all over the place. Sad and mad. I know what you need,” he said softly, tucking a russet curl behind her ear. “You need to feel my hand on you.”
Clara shook her head, a broken little sob escaping her lips.
“You’ve got so many emotions and so many thoughts running around that beautiful head of yours.”
He thought she was beautiful. That was her takeaway? She was pathetic.
“Let me help you, Clara. You can let go of all the confusion.”
“No.” She scrambled to her feet, away from temptation.
Brock moved in front of her, his hands gripping her waist. Why did he have to smell so good?
He guided her between his thighs, his thumbs rubbing the front of her jeans. He flicked open the fly, pulling down the zipper, his eyes never leaving hers as he shoved the jeans down around her knees and hooked his fingers in her panties, pausing.
“I thought you told Gabriel you never wore panties.”
“I was just trying to make you mad.”
“You are a bad little wolf.” He pulled down her panties and froze, staring down at her. “You’re bare. Why did you shave your pussy?”
“I waxed it.”
“Why? Because Gabriel likes you that way?” Brock’s voice held a thin edge of anger.
“He’s never seen it,” Clara whispered.
“That is excellent news. Now, hold still, baby, and let Daddy take care of you.”
Her pussy was instantly wet, aching for him. Brock sniffed the air and sent her a wicked smile. “You smell so sweet,” he said and pulled her closer.
Brock ran his fingers over the smooth, soft skin of Clara’s thighs. “I want to taste you, but first we have a spanking to get through.” He led her over to the bunk and sat down, pulling her over his knee and then smoothing his hand over her bottom. She lay over his thighs, quiescent, her breath coming in quick gasps.
“It’s all right, Clara. I’ll take care of you.” He hated to see her so upset, vowing silently to deal with the wolves who had hurt her so badly.
She clasped his leg and held on, her body tense. He spanked her hard across both cheeks. Her bottom quivered beneath his fingers.
“Breathe out, baby. Relax.” Brock waited until her breathing evened out, getting deeper and slower. He spanked her again, harder, his fingers leaving a bright red mark on her creamy flesh. Gorgeous. He spanked her with a quick rhythm, peppering her backside with short, hard smacks. A sob burst from her lips, her back quivered, her round bottom jiggling as each stroke fell.
Aroused by her tears and his marks on her sweet skin, his cock swelled in response. He was so rigid it hurt. Brock soothed her flesh and then landed three last blows, more severe than the rest. Clara cried out, clutching his leg so hard he’d knew he’d have bruises.
“Finished,” he told her. Her bottom burned beneath his fingers. Brock stroked the crease between her cheeks. “Open to me, Clara.”
Mewing, she parted her legs. He slipped a finger between them. She felt like hot, wet silk. The scent of her arousal filled his nostrils. She wanted this.
Brock circled her entrance with one finger, her sweet flesh yielding to his soft pressure. He pressed his finger inside her. Clara moaned, her pussy clutching his finger. He thrust in and out gently. Fuck, she was tight. His thumb found her clit, rubbing it in a slow circle. His finger moved more easily as Clara got wetter. Brock added a second finger, curling them upward to find her special spot. Clara’s pussy opened like a dark flower, as he thrust in deeper. Her small desperate cries were driving him crazy. He set up a hard, driving rhythm, Clara writhing and moaning around his fingers.
“Please…” she breathed.
“You can come.”
Instantly, she climaxed, her pussy squeezing him tight as she convulsed around him. God, she was beautiful in her passion. His cock throbbed hot and hard. He pulled out, sliding his fingers through her wet folds, the scent of her arousal surrounding him.
“Brock! You in here?”
Zane thrust open the tent flap and peered inside. A slow grin crossed his face. “Guess you’re busy. Sorry, but Dad wants you back on duty.”
He left, and Clara scrambled off his lap, pulling up her panties and jeans. Her face was flushed, her gaze soft, unfocused.
“Clara.” He stood and pulled her into his arms. She felt soft and small and so right. “You okay?”
She sighed. “Sure.” And then stepped away. “I’ll see you out there.” She ran a hand through her tangled curls and left him standing there, his arms empty, with an ache in his heart that didn’t seem to quit.
Brock shook his head as if to clear it. Time to get back. Dad would have his ass in a sling if he didn’t pull his weight this weekend.
He returned to the makeshift bar, where he checked the stock and opened more cases of wine and beer. They needed more ice. He headed back to the old-fashioned icehouse to load up the truck. He was finished throwing the last bag into the back, when Zane called out from behind him.
“Brock. Hold up.”
Brock sighed, slamming the tailgate shut. “We’re going to have another conversation, aren’t we?”
“I know what I saw in the tent.”
“Yeah? What do you think you saw?”
“I saw a wolf of this pack treat a free woman as his mate.”
“I spanked her—and other stuff. I didn’t marry her,” Brock pointed out.
Zane stabbed a finger in his direction. “That’s the problem. You can’t treat a wolf like that. Not unless you claim her.”
Brock scrubbed his hands through his hair, blowing out a breath. “Fine.”
“What does that mean?”
“Consider Clara claimed. She’s mine. And I will do with her as I please, so step back, big brother.”
“You might want to check with her first. I just saw her dancing with Stone. I think he likes her.”
Brock cursed viciously. Ignoring Zane’s knowing grin, he climbed in the cab and started the truck. No way was he letting that guy steal his girl.
Clara stared at the bonfire flames crackling in the deepening twilight. She wanted desperately to go home, to run away from all the drama surrounding her. She couldn’t escape her feelings for Brock, but that was something she would have to work through. Maybe it was time to leave New York and make a fresh start somewhere else. Amber chose that moment to glare at her from the other side of the fire. Clara sighed.
“Why is that blonde bitch giving you the side eye?”
Clara looked up at the tall man grinning down at her. “Her name is Amber Colby, and she’s made it her mission in life to screw me over.”
He whistled. “Leif’s daughter. I hear she’s engaged to Tanner Fell, the poor bastard.”
Clara bit her lip, trying not to laugh.
“That woman is high maintenance.” He leaned closer to whisper, “I hear even her pussy has teeth.”
It was too much. Clara laughed helplessly, until tears welled in her eyes.
“That’s better,” the stranger said approvingly. White teeth flashed in a close-cropped black beard. He was the guy Faith had ogled earlier. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Clara Sorenson, Hunter Pack.”
“Stone, Lyall Pack. Want a beer?”
“I really do.”
“Good. Stay put, and I’ll get one for you.”
“I will.” Clara looked after him as he walked over to the makeshift bar. He was gorgeous. Tall, wide shoulders, slim hips, long dark hair, piercing blue eyes. Maybe Stone was the answer to her current dating desert. He looked like he was out for a good time, not a long time, and that suited her just fine tonight. A long-legged blonde joined him at the bar. Amber. She glanced over her shoulder at Clara, lips stretched in a feral grin. One crimson-tipped finger ran down Stone’s sleeve, and she whispered something that Clara couldn’t hear. Stone didn’t respond, he simply moved away. He picked up their drinks and headed back.
“Making new friends?” Clara asked him coldly.
Stone grinned at her as he handed over a beer. “I like a woman with a temper.” He took a healthy slug. “But I stay clear of female predators. They are the worst.”
“What did she say to you?”
“Nothing you want to hear. I make my own decisions about people.”
“Good to hear.”
He grabbed her hand. “C’mon. The band is starting up.”
Alec had hired a local bluegrass band. Shifters, of course. Ryder, the only wolf in the group, played the fiddle, accompanying a fox shifter on banjo and a bear shifter on guitar. Poppy Whitetail, a lynx shifter, sang lead.
“Let’s dance.” Stone stowed their beers on one of the upended barrels that served as rough tables. He pulled her onto the floor and into a lively two-step.
They danced until Clara was breathless. She put a hand on his chest. “I have to take a break.”
“Excellent idea.” Taking her hand again, Stone led her away from the dancing to a grove of pines. He pushed her gently against a trunk, his arm resting over her head. “You are the prettiest little redhead I’ve ever seen.”
The man was delicious, hotter than fuck, and he smelled fantastic. He kissed her, exploring her mouth slowly. It felt good, really good, but… he wasn’t Brock.
Clara pulled her mouth free. “I’m sorry, Stone, this isn’t going to work.”
Stone tucked a curl behind her ear. “I see that. At the risk of sounding like a douche, do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s this guy I care about. He was after me for months to date him. When we got finally together, he dropped me. I’m mad at him, but, he’s still in my heart.” Clara made a face. “Same old story, I guess.”
His blue eyes were sad. “Just because it’s an old story doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
“Wise words. I take it you are a fellow sufferer?”
Stone straightened. “Yeah, there was a girl.”
“A girl?” she teased gently.
“The girl. She was everything to me, and I lost her. She moved on. End of my sad story.”
“What was she like?”
“Sweet like you, and feisty. Strong, but soft.”
“You miss her.”
“Every day.” Stone shoved his hands in his jeans. “You’re a beautiful woman, Clara. Sleeping with you would not be a hardship. But I can see that’s not going to happen.”
Clara’s mouth shook. “I’d like to live hard and free, but the truth is, I’m not made that way.”
“No,” he said, his smile gentle. “You’re the kind of woman a man holds onto, keeping her in his heart and his life, and never letting go.”
A sob trembled on her lips. Stone wiped away the tear spilling down her cheek with an absorbed expression. “Don’t be sad, darlin’. Your beloved might be an idiot, but I think he’ll come around.” He grinned suddenly, teeth white in his dark, close-cropped beard. “Especially if Brock finds me nosing around.”
Of course, he knew it was Brock. Wolves. Clara managed a watery giggle. “I don’t think I’m that conniving.”
Stone dragged a finger along her jaw. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m devious enough for the both of us.”
Stone took her hand, and they went back to the bonfire. “I’ll get you another beer.”
Clara wondered about the woman he’d lost, and why she left him. Suddenly, she felt a familiar arm close around her waist.
“I was looking for you.”
Brock. “I’m kinda busy at the moment,” she told him.
“Really? Because you’re standing here all by yourself. Let’s go.”
Stone sauntered toward them, holding a couple of long-necks. He stopped in front of them, staring at Brock. “Woman told you she’s busy.”
Brock’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t your business.”
“You stepping on this nice lady’s toes? Making it my business.”
“I don’t want to deal with you right now. Come on, Clara.”
She shook him off. “I told you. I’m not going anywhere. You had your chance, more than one, and you blew it.”
Brock’s voice deepened, darkened. “We’ll talk about it.”
The memory of his touching her in the tent suffused her body with heat. No, she was fighting this. Clara shook her head. “I’m not interested.”
“Now that’s a lie,” he murmured in her ear. “Clara.”
Damn him. She exhaled slowly. “Fine. You have five minutes.”
“Not here.” Brock twined his fingers with hers, drawing her away.
Clara looked back at Stone. “I’ll be all right.”
Stone nodded, his gaze measuring Brock. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Brock dragged her away from the fire and down a winding path that led deeper into the woods. It was full dark now, a sliver of moon brightening the sky. He pushed her against a birch tree and tipped up her chin. “You trying to make me jealous?”
Clara tried to jerk away, but Brock held her fast, his fingers digging into her waist. “No, I’m moving on.”
“That’s right. You’ve made it clear we have no future.”
“Oh, I never said that.” He threaded his fingers through her hair.
Clara blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m not looking for a proposal, for heaven’s sake. I’m not in the market for a hook-up either. I just want a normal relationship with a guy who wants to be with me as much as I want to be with him. Clearly, that’s not you. So, why don’t you get out of my way?”
Brock tugged her hair. “I don’t think so.”
“You are the most selfish man I ever met.”
“Probably.” Brock wrapped her hair around his fist and pulled it taut, forcing her neck up. He bent his head, licking a hot path from her ear to her collarbone. “Sweet,” he said in a low voice that made her shiver. His thigh pressed between her legs, pushing her wide, his firm length rubbing against her clit in invitation. Clara moaned, straining to get closer.
Brock snapped open her jeans, sliding his hand inside, bypassing her panties to cup her pussy. He nipped her throat, licking the skin afterward to soothe the little hurt. Her nose was full of his scent, her pulse thundering.
His tongue licked a hot, wet trail around the shell of her ear. Clara shivered. He undid the top of his jeans with a flick of his wrist, and took her hand, molding her fingers around his hard length. “Touch me.” He was bigger than she remembered, so wide her fingers couldn’t close around his thickness. “Harder, Clara.”
She swallowed, gripping his cock, her thumb caressing the tip, wet with pre-cum. She kept stroking until he hissed, stopping her.
“I want your mouth on me,” Brock murmured in her ear. He pushed her gently to her knees and tipped up her jaw. His eyes glittered in the moonlight, his arousal scenting the night air. His thumb pressed down on her lower lip, slipping inside. Clara, mesmerized by the heat and smell of his body, her pussy liquid with desire, opened wider. Brock took his cock in one hand, painting her mouth with his pre-cum. He stepped back to watch her, and Clara licked her lips, moaning at the taste of him.
“Fuck,” he growled and surged forward, his cock invading her mouth, sliding along her tongue, to touch the back of her throat. She almost gagged, but he pulled back. “You’ll take me, Clara, all of me,” he told her fiercely. She nodded, eyes fixed on his. Brock pushed inside again, as she fought to relax her muscles and accept his full length. They’d been here before, the one night they’d been together, and she knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d filled her throat.
“That’s it, beautiful girl,” he breathed. “I’m going to claim your mouth, and then your pussy and your ass, until every hole you have has been filled.”
Clara thought she might climax on the spot, just from his words. He grabbed her head with both hands, thrusting in and out with a hard, driving rhythm that made her feel helpless. He was in charge of her body and he was going to do anything he wanted, and she had never been more aroused.
Brock’s thrusts grew erratic as he swelled inside her. “You’ll swallow it, Clara. Every bit of my cum is going down your throat.”
She muttered something, some acceptance, around the width of his cock as he plundered her mouth. He stiffened, his cock swelling, his head thrown back, and then, he came, thick, hot spurts that she swallowed, choking a little. Brock pulled out, one large hand gripping her neck as her throat moved. His hand slipped down her throat to the middle of her breasts, tracing the path of his seed. He dropped to his knees beside her, claiming her mouth with his, tasting his cum on her lips. “You’re mine, Clara. No other wolf will touch you.”
She jerked back, wiping her lips with an unsteady hand. “Is that what this was about? Staking a claim, so no one else will fuck me?”
Brock smirked at her. Clara stumbled to her feet, hastily doing up her jeans. “The man I knew six months ago would never use me like this. You’ve changed, Brock. I hardly recognize you anymore.”
“I think the using was kind of mutual.” He got to his feet, tucking himself into his jeans. “I know I heard you moaning.”
“What’s wrong with you? You used to be kind of wild, but free and basically happy. And kind.”
Brock scowled at her. “I’m claiming you.”
“Why? To keep me off the market, while you bed everyone you lay eyes on?” Clara shook her head. “Not interested.”
“I thought that was what you wanted.”
“Are you really thinking about what I want, or is it all about you?”
Brock looked away, frustrated.
“You have to get over your past, before we can move forward.”
His gaze swung toward her. “You’re talking about my mom.”
Clara touched his chest, feeling his anger and seeing the sadness in his eyes. “Janet was a great lady, and I know you miss her. But, do you really think she’d like you acting like this?”
A smile twisted his lips. “She’d kick my ass.”
Clara nodded. “She would.”
Brock’s phone buzzed. He dug it out of his pocket. “It’s Ryder. He wants to see us ASAP.”
“Wait, can’t we get cleaned up first?”
Clara blushed. “Because everyone will smell you on me.”
Brock smiled slowly. “Good.”
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