Marked by the Wolf (A New Adult Urban Fantasy) Page 7

  Taryn shook her head, laughing, pulling on her second shoe. “I don’t snore.” She reached up, planting a kiss on Lori’s cheek as she opened the apartment door.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow then, yeah? Take care and get some sleep.”

  The cab ride was brief and Taryn was home, standing beneath the pounding hot water in her shower, letting the water sluice through her hair. She’d never been so glad to get out of her clothes, contemplating throwing them in the garbage. Even the cabbie had given her a dirty scowl as she got into the cab. It was funny; she’d never noticed that the alley smelled that bad, even with all the dumpsters. And Lori hadn’t said anything. Probably couldn’t smell anything anyway, as much as she smoked.

  She spent a long time sitting by the window in her bedroom, drying her hair. The street below was busy, but she knew in the next hour or so, as people started coming home from work, it would be packed.

  It occurred to her, not for the first time, what an odd life she led. Just when most people were coming home from work or school, sitting down with family for dinner, she was getting ready to take her clothes off for a roomful of strange men.

  She shook her head, padding back to the bathroom. There was no good reason to think about what might have been if things had gone differently. She’d given up years ago wondering how different her life would have been if her parents hadn’t been her parents, hadn’t fought every night of her life, hadn’t dragged her into the middle of the arguments, made her choose sides. If her father hadn’t turned into the monster in her nightmares. And if her mother hadn’t died in a car crash two months before she was to graduate from high school.

  Thinking didn’t change anything, it just brought up a lot of pain. Pain Taryn could really do without.

  She thought about dinner instead, poking around in the still-empty refrigerator. Hiding in the back she unearthed a stale bagel and a tub of semi-petrified cream cheese. Toasted and covered with spread, she called it dinner.

  It was almost time to leave for work but the last place Taryn wanted to be was at the club. But they were down two dancers and Lori was off. Taryn cringed, knowing why they were short. It didn’t make her want to be there, but she knew Mack would fire her in a heartbeat if she called in. He’d have a new girl hired and using her locker probably before Taryn would even have a chance to clean out her stuff.

  But there was no way in hell she was walking down that alley. She opened the front door of the club, the sounds and smells washing over her. It was Friday and the place was almost full. As bad luck would have it, Mack was sitting at the end of the bar, right by the door. He caught her eye, scowling at her.

  “You know better. Dancers use the alley door.” He jerked his head toward the door she’d just entered, indicating she should go back out. Normally she would have. But not tonight.

  Something snapped. She walked over to Mack, leaning close, her hand on his arm.

  “Mack, give me a break. People were killed in that alley, just the other day. China’s boyfriend held a knife to my throat. Last night…” She stopped. There was no way she could explain last night to Mack.

  Mack’s eyes were cold as they met hers. “Yeah. And I have rules. You don’t like them, you know where the door is.” His voice was hard and he jerked his head again in the direction of the front door, his voice hard.

  “Look, Taryn. I like you. Really. You’re a great dancer, the customers love you. But…you know, you’re stubborn. And you gotta respect that I got rules here. Okay?” He stood, opening the door for her. She stepped out onto the sidewalk.

  “You got a choice. Follow my rules, use the alley. Or...not.”

  The door closed behind her as she left the club without thought about how she would be able to pay the month’s rent. She had enough of Mack, the degradation, the always feeling as though she held no value other than in how hot she could make the men who stuffed her panties with one dollar bills. Enough already. Moving almost mechanically, she walked to the corner of the building, the mouth of the alley looming ahead of her.

  The clouds obscured any moonlight that might have penetrated the depths of the alley and the dim bulb above the club door didn’t do much besides cast a faint yellow circle on the door. Taryn took a deep breath and turned, walking away from the club.

  17

  Sam opened the door to the club. He’d caught a whiff of Taryn’s scent, clear and rich, on the night air. He inhaled, closing his eyes, and then stepped inside the dim club.

  The place was packed, but he picked up on a low level of disquiet in the air, a subtle tension. Sam moved along the back wall, watching the crowd, looking for Taryn, or for the tall blonde woman that had been in the alley with Taryn. But neither appeared to be mingling with the crowd.

  And then it occurred to Sam that there didn’t seem to be any girls in the crowd, or dancing on the stage. He cocked his head, listening intently to the conversations around him, finally picking up the drift of what they were saying.

  There seemed to be no girls working, or very few. Sam worked his way toward the bar, finally managing to catch the bartender’s eye.

  “What can I get you?” Sam seemed on edge.

  “Campari and soda. And has Taryn been up yet?”

  Sam hesitated, looking up at Sam. “I remember you.” He shook his head.

  “No. And she won’t be up.” Sam turned, speaking over his shoulder.

  “Is she off?” Sam frowned. Taryn usually worked Fridays.

  A voice at his shoulder spoke. “She’s off alright. Permanently. Bitch quit.”

  Sam turned, scowling. An older, heavy-set man was standing next to him. Sam recognized him as the club owner.

  “Quit? When?”

  “Tonight, start of her shift. Wanted to come in through the front door. She knows the rules…dancers use the back alley or not at all. Guess she chose not at all.” The man suddenly seemed to realize he was talking to a customer.

  “But, you know, we have lots of other girls…Eden is working tonight, should be up any minute. She’s gorgeous, you’d like her. If you want, I’ll reserve a private room for you, set up a dance…”

  Sam barely heard the rest of the man’s pitch. As he shouldered his way past him, pushing open the front door to the sidewalk, he heard the guy calling after him but he didn’t stop to listen.

  Once on the sidewalk, he ran a hand through his hair, panic rising up in him, his heart skidding out of control in his chest. The irony of the situation hit him; he’d finally found the perfect woman, only to lose her over something as stupid as this, as simple as not knowing how to find her.

  There was no other way for him to find Taryn than to trail her through the city. The thought had crossed his mind to get her cell number or ask for her address, but the time never seemed right, or it had slipped his mind. Or…

  As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t blame Bec for this, even though he’d barged into his room, barged in on him in bed with Taryn.

  He shook his head. There wasn’t time now to worry about what he hadn’t done. It was time to find Taryn.

  His senses were still on overdrive, the wolf still strong in him. Even though the moon was past full, it still affected him deeply. He closed his eyes, opening his senses to the sounds, and particularly the scents around him.

  Last night, he’d followed Taryn and Lori back to Lori’s apartment. He’d hung back in the shadows, ghosting behind the women, never letting them know he was there. Once they’d entered the aging red brick building, it took longer to find which apartment they’d gone into, as he’d climbed the rickety metal fire escape, working his way slowly around the building.

  Finally, he’d found her scent and he’d crouched outside the bedroom window, watching her sleep as sunrise grew closer. He risked being caught outside the den, barely making it back to his room before he changed back to his human form.

  Tonight, the clouds and the impending rain worked in his favor. The air was heavy, holding scents like a sponge. Taryn’s was t
here, as clear as if she was right in front of him.

  It wasn’t long before he realized he was heading in the same direction, down the same streets he’d gone the night before. She was headed back to Lori’s apartment.

  Sam hesitated outside the building. There was no easy way to do this, he’d just have to go get her. If she didn’t want to come with him…he didn’t want to think about that right now. If necessary, he’d just carry her out of the apartment.

  The apartment was in an old building, the street door open, two guys sitting on the steps sharing a bottle. Sam walked between them, ignoring their comments.

  He climbed the stairs to the third floor, counted the doors in the hall, trying to get his bearings, envisioning what the building looked like from his vantage point on the fire escape. Her scent was so heavy here, mingled with dozens of other pungent scents, it was difficult to know exactly where she was. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door he hoped Taryn was behind.

  There were voices, and he recognized Taryn’s and then Lori’s, as she undid the multiple locks on the door. It finally opened a crack, the safety chain still in place and Sam caught a glimpse of Lori’s face. She looked at him for a moment, then the door closed. He could hear the chain being pulled back and then the door opened again.

  “Come in.” Lori held the door for Sam. Her face was an unreadable mask, her voice neutral, but he could sense disapproval in her posture, in the tension at the corners of her eyes.

  “Who is it?” He heard Taryn’s voice from somewhere in the depths of the tiny apartment.

  “It’s for you…” Lori closed the door behind Sam. He let her walk ahead of him down the short hall, into a dingy living room.

  Taryn was curled up on the couch, a glass of what smelled like straight whiskey in her hand. When she saw him, her eyes went wide with surprise. But her voice was cold.

  “Well, I’ll be damned. Look who’s here.” She set her glass on the coffee table, her hand trembling slight. “How’d you find me?”

  18

  Her question caught him off guard and he had no ready answer.

  “I came to talk to you.” He took a step toward her. Lori moved to his left, a not so subtle move that put her between him and Taryn. He was struck again by her protective nature, the way she instinctively seemed to be looking out for Taryn.

  And then it hit him. That strange scent he’d smelled on Taryn the night before. He glanced at Lori, but she was looking away. He shook his head, focusing on Taryn.

  “I went to the club, to see you.” He gradually moved closer as he spoke, circling the room, trying to slow his beating heart, control his shallow breathing. “I wanted to see you, Taryn. See if you were…to see you again.”

  With all his heart, he wanted to scoop her up and carry her away. But he sensed he still had a way to go to win her over.

  She frowned at him, clearly confused. “You wanted to see me? Why?”

  Lori was perched on the arm of the couch now, arms folded across her chest. Sam glanced at her and then looked back at Taryn.

  “Can we go somewhere, talk maybe?”

  Taryn looked up at Lori and Sam felt his stomach drop, knowing he’d probably lost any chance he had. But to his surprise, Lori nodded. Taryn looked as shocked by Lori’s nod as he was.

  “Really? You think I should go with him?”

  “Taryn, he came after you. No other guy’s done that. Give him a chance at least.” She stood, catching Sam’s eye as she walked past.

  “It’s not always what you think it is.” Her voice was low, barely audible. But he heard her.

  She tossed the rest of her words back over her shoulder. “Besides, I want a nice peaceful night and if you two are going to be talking…or anything else…I’m not going to be getting any sleep.” He saw her suppress a small smile as she left the room.

  “Come on.” Sam held out his hand and Taryn took it. She stumbled slightly as she put on her shoes and he realized she was a little drunk. But she grabbed her jacket and purse, walking ahead of him down the hall.

  Taryn was quiet in the cab ride to his house. Sam opened the door, letting her into the downstairs. There were voices in the kitchen, Bec’s and a few other pack members. Sam steered Taryn up the wide staircase and down the hall to his room. He closed the door behind them, thumbing the lock this time, not taking any chance on being interrupted.

  “So, this is a really big house. Lots of people coming and going. What’s the deal?” Taryn tossed her purse on the bed, shrugging out of her jacket.

  “It’s been in the family for a long time…couple hundred years or so. One of the first built out here, when this land was still far outside the city.” It really wasn’t an answer to her question, but they were questions he wasn’t ready to answer just yet.

  Sam pulled the chair out from the desk. He sat down, elbows on his knees. Taryn was sitting across from him on his bed and it was all he could do to not lunge across the few feet that separated them and take her right there. Her scent, her body, her very being called out to him. But he drew a deep breath, trying to control the primal urges surging through his body.

  “Taryn, somehow things got off track with us…and I want to fix that.”

  She laughed, a harsh sound. “Fix what? Fix that I’m a stripper? I bet you were really happy when you found out I didn’t work at the club anymore, huh? Couldn’t wait to find me now that I’m not whoring myself on stage for a living.” She looked around the room, the high ceilings, the ornate moldings, the solid oak doors.

  “Can’t bring a stripper to a house like this. Just not right.”

  Taryn got off the bed. He sat back in the chair, almost forced back, as Taryn walked up to him.

  “You think because I’m a stripper I’m something cheap, just a girl you can use. Pay for whatever you want and then toss me aside.”

  Taryn leaned forward, her hands on Sam’s knees, pushing his legs apart. He resisted and she pushed harder. He was totally taken off guard by her aggressiveness, her combative nature.

  “Let me finish that lap dance I started. You never got the full treatment. You broke the rules and touched me. But no touching now.”

  Sam was breathing hard, the closeness of her body to his setting off a chain reaction of emotions and sensations, not all of them under his control. Having her this close, when he wanted her so badly, was almost more than he could stand.

  Taryn leaned forward, her breasts sliding up the front of his body. He stiffened in response and by the look in her eyes, she knew exactly what she was doing to him. She smiled at him, a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. It was the pasted-on smile of a temptress who was used to creating a fantasy for men with her body, with her movements.

  “You like this, right? I can tell. You’re getting all hot and excited, you’re getting hard.” Her face was inches from his, her breath warm on his cheeks. She leaned further into him, sliding her lips down his neck, her tongue flicking out, hot and wet on his skin.

  She turned suddenly, arching her back, her hips grinding against his erection. He groaned, his hands instinctively on her waist, holding her tightly. Just as instinctively his hips flexing upward. Taryn looked at him over her shoulder. Her face was flushed, her lips parted, leaning back against him.

  “See? You all fall for it, the routine, the fantasy. But all this is just make-believe. For me…and for you. I’m just a paper doll, all dressed up, for all of you to use, to play with…to fuck.”

  She tried to stand but Sam grabbed her upper arms, sitting her back on his lap. His breathing was shallow, his heart thudding in his chest. Having her this close, her scent all around, was driving him insane. That she was hurt by his actions was breaking his heart.

  He nuzzled her neck, her hair against his cheek, warm and soft. He closed his eyes, letting the sensation of having her so close wash over him, wrapping his arms around her body, hugging her tightly.

  “No, Taryn. You’ve got it wrong…all wrong.” He breathed the words against her
neck, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts. He felt a tightness in his chest, a longing so deep and powerful it made him almost cry. “So very wrong.”

  Sam stood, turning Taryn around, pulling her against the length of his body. He caressed her face with one hand, the other splayed across her back.

  “You’re not my fantasy, you’re real. You’re what I want, just as you are.” His eyes traveled over her face, confusion evident in her eyes, along with pain. His voice was hoarse with emotion when he spoke. “You’re not just a stripper, Taryn. Never have been. You’re so much more than that to me.”

  He scooped her up, carrying her to the bed, laying her gently on the blankets. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, her hair spread across his pillow.

  “How can I be more? You hardly know me.”

  Sam climbed onto the bed beside her, fingers tracing over her cheek. “I know. I know here…” He placed his hand on her chest, over her heart. “I feel it, Taryn. In my bones, in my very soul.”

  He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers. For an instant, she didn’t respond, but then, slowly she relaxed beneath his touch, her lips parting. After a moment, her arms came up and she wrapped them around his neck.

  The kiss deepened and he slid one hand beneath her body, pulling her against him. She responded, arching her back, her breasts pressed against his chest, hips against his.

  The kiss went on, her tongue flicking out, tracing the contours of his lower lip before slipping into his mouth. The touch of her sent a thrill through his body and he shivered, pulling her closer, his body moving over hers.

  He wanted her skin against his, their clothes suddenly a huge obstacle. His hands tugged at the zipper on her jeans, fingers moving restlessly beneath her shirt. She responded instantly, her hands pulling his t-shirt up, palms sliding over his chest.

  Then she was pushing him over onto his back, rising up beside him.

  “Why do you want me? What makes me so special?” Her voice was low, hesitant, full of doubt.