Seduced by a Shifter Read online

  “Oh, God.”

  Another look. This one suppressed anger. “He made it. They all did. But it was touch-and-go there for a long time, especially when Seth got pneumonia. Now all the ponds are off limits, but I damn well know kids still sneak out on them, so I’m pushing for the rink.” He paused, eyes straight ahead. “And we’ll get it.”

  “Of course you will.” Willow couldn’t imagine otherwise.

  “You danced.” Ben stated after several minutes, evidently setting aside the topic of the rink. “Your knee okay? Hip?”

  “Ah.” She stretched out a leg, easy in the bench seat of the truck as it was set to accommodate Ben’s long legs. “No. I’m good.”

  “You liked it.”

  Yeah, she did. As they pulled to a stop in front of her cabin she told him so.

  “Now I’m pleased.”

  “I thought it was about pleasing me.” Willow could have slapped a hand over her mouth as the unbidden comment popped free.

  He clicked free his seat belt and turned toward her, leaning back against his door. Lounging, waiting, he watched her. “It is. Tell me, Will. What else can I do to please you?”

  Holy smokes! The temperature in the truck shot up about a thousand degrees. She opened her mouth, closed it. “The pool thing is good.”

  A small smile played around his lips. “All right. I’ll pick you up at five tomorrow. I’ll take you out to Vince’s place for dinner first. That work?”

  “Sure.” That wasn’t a squeak, was it?

  “Anything else?”

  Nothing that I can say out loud. “I think that’s about it.” And a few hundred kisses? Those hands all over my naked body?

  One brow winged up. “Really?” He perused her hot face, inching slowly forward. “I have a suggestion, then.”

  Oh boy. “You do?” Definite squeak this time.

  “Oh yeah.” Another inch forward, as if he didn’t want to startle her. “It involves a repeat of yesterday.”

  Butterflies flew in dizzy delight in her stomach, her breathing catching up to the speeding of her heart. “It does?”

  “Most definitely.” He traced her lips with the pad of one finger, seemingly mesmerized as they parted slightly under his touch. “I love your mouth.”

  Desire quickened, a sharp need that had her aching for a more intimate touch. “It’s nothing special.”

  Something fierce and dark glowed in his eyes. “I beg to differ. But let’s try a test.”

  He pressed his lips to hers, her face cupped in one of his hands. Willow felt the tip of tongue lick lightly against her mouth, teasing her senses. “Heavenly,” he murmured against her lips.

  “Heavenly,” she agreed, eyes closed to savor the tender moment. Then he kissed her again, more demanding this time, his tongue plunging deep, licking the sensitive lining of her cheeks and tangling with hers. It was wet and wild, and becoming wilder still.

  His hands shifted to her shoulders, edging her coat off her shoulders and down over her arms. Once freed, she fisted her hands to the front of his shirt, her head tilted back in surrender. Lust bloomed, a scorching greed so strong she felt her bones melt.

  Ben, she thought, her soft moan a muted whisper of his name.

  Whether he’d scooped her up or she’d jumped him, Willow didn’t know. She just suddenly found herself spread over Ben’s thighs, her legs straddling him so that the very core of her was pressed against the bulge in his jeans.

  With a soft sound of approval he possessed her lips again, one hand wrapped around the back of her head, the other pressing over her butt, holding her too him as if she might wiggle free any moment.

  Not a chance in hell.

  He slayed her. Simply slayed her. Her mind and her body. Most especially her body. Her skin felt too tight, her flesh burning her through. He pressed open-mouthed kisses down her jaw to suckle the wildly beating pulse at her throat and sigh escaped. She buried a hand in his thick hair, holding him as used his tongue to drive her senseless.

  At least in her head. Her body, on the other hand, was a mass of raw nerve endings, her senses on overload. She would have fallen if she hadn’t been sitting, or kneeling, straddling muscled thighs that bunched under hers.

  Thighs that led to lean hips. which fed into the thick ridge currently pulsing insistently between her own thighs.

  Feeling the strength and size of him under her hands and under her spread legs made all her female parts weep with desire, her nipples beg not to be left out. She rubbed her torso against his chest, seeking relief from breasts swollen with need. As if understanding, Ben curved a hand over the lush swell of one breast.

  Willow froze and shivered at the same time, falling into his heated gaze, locked on hers as if seeking her every reaction to his touch. Amber ringed the magnificent bronze once again.

  Nipping at her lips, Ben flicked his thumb across one taut peak. “You like that?” His voice was a low rasp in her ear. Then he did something amazing at her neck that had her tilting her head for better access. “Now imagine how much more you’ll feel without the clothes.”

  Shuddering at the wanton need that speared her body, Willow closed her eyes. “Yes, please.”

  Ben chuckled softly at the soft demand. He released her breast, only to tunnel his hand under the edge of her sweater to sweep up her ribcage. When he encountered her bra, he only nudged it up so he could lay claim to the silky smooth mound.

  “Look at you,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive bud.

  Then his lips came down to lave her bared breast, his tongue liquid heat as he licked her nipple with lazy strokes. His mouth opened, suckling her in, and her eyes nearly rolled right into the back of her head. The muscles in her tummy and legs squeezed against the onslaught of sensations. Each tug of his lips, every lick of his rough tongue seemed to wring an answering surge of wetness and unbelievable ache from between her thighs.

  “And so damn responsive.” Ben seemed in awe.

  “Ben.” His name fell from her lips in a husky whisper as he turned to pay homage to her neglected breast, but before the exquisite contact was made he switched gears and yanked her bra and sweater down, lifting and then depositing her neatly in the passenger seat.

  To say she was confused was an understatement. She blinked owlishly about the cab, wondering what the heck happened. It was then she noticed the thick fog on all the windows, cocooning them in a world of their own, and a temporary one at that, as a loud rap on the driver side window testified.

  Her “oh, crap,” was drowned out by Ben’s snarled, “Just a minute.”

  Alarmed, she checked her clothes and jammed a trembling hand through her hair.

  She looked up when Ben clasped her free hand, his fingers tangling in hers. “You okay?” His eyes, reverted fully back to bronze fire, narrowed in concern.

  Was she okay? Her face flamed and she turned away. She’d just behaved in an absolutely unorthodox fashion, groping and fondling and, well, practically having sex in a truck! In a place where anyone could see or even come upon them at any second, which, based on that window knock, they had. And if that someone, no doubt Rome, had approached only minutes later—

  Her cheeks grew hotter at the thought. “Maybe in a year or two.”

  Eyes solemn, he curved a hand under her chin. “I like you, Will, and I want to be with you. I want to make love with you.”

  Wow. Guess Ben had no qualms about putting it all right out in the open. Too bad Willow didn’t have quite the nerve. “I like you too.”

  Looking as if he were biting back a smile he asked, “Yeah?”

  Who could help not liking him? Certainly not this female. “Yeah.”

  Approving her response, he laid a hard, closed-mouth kiss on her lips. “Good. I’ll pick you up tomorrow around five and we’ll head over to Vince’s restaurant for dinner. Sound good?”

  It took Willow a few moments to remember why he was picking her up. The man had a way of scrambling her brains.

  Sw
imming.

  She nodded, Rome banged on the window again and, yanking her coat out from under her, said, “Sounds good. Thanks for driving me back.”

  “Believe me.” Ben’s Cheshire cat grin was hard to miss. “It was my pleasure.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  With her swimsuit, towel, and a pair of shorts tucked in a small bag on the bed, Willow moved back to the closet, opened it, frowned at the five items dangling from plastic hangers—yep, nothing else had magically shown up in the past twenty seconds—and closed the hinged door and paced to the dresser.

  She frowned at her reflection. What was she thinking? It wasn’t as if she had a huge wardrobe to choose from. Everything she’d owned she’d brought, and it hadn’t amounted to much. Not to mention most of what she did have was suited to an Arizona climate, not a mountainous Colorado one, and other than a pretty sundress or the beautiful blue dress Tess bought for her, neither an appropriate choice for tonight, she was stuck in what she wore.

  But it wasn’t like they were going on a date.

  Ben was simply taking her to Vince DeNoza’s restaurant. She didn’t remember the name of the place, but did recall the flirty older gentleman at Kaylie’s house from the night she and Rome arrived in Woodcliff.

  Then they were going swimming. At a school. Not the most romantic of dates.

  “It’s not a date.” The mirror showed a face scrunched up with worry and she stuck a tongue out at it. “Jeans, sweater, boots, move on. No more thinking or wishing about it.”

  Nevertheless, she did check her lip gloss, foregoing any other makeup because, hello, swimming. Nothing sexy about makeup smearing down one’s face and leaving a gross film all over the pool. Then she fluffed bangs long past needing a trim and yearned for the time it had been long enough to pull back in a knot, or braid, or ponytail. Or anything. The thin strands just hung there, straight as an arrow. At least all the bland, brown temporary color had washed out, leaving her strawberry blond locks free to shimmer in the sun.

  She let out a breath. “Too bad it’s night.”

  Shaking her head her nonsensical thoughts, she gasped, hand to her heart, when she heard Ben’s voice in the living room. A startled glance at the radio clock on the nightstand told her it was indeed five o’clock. She’d been thinking so hard she missed hearing his truck pull up or his knock at the door.

  She probably would have missed a sonic boom.

  Now she only had to face Ben, not having a clue what he might think of her after she’d practically attacked him in wild abandon the night before.

  “Agh.” She pressed her hands to her hot cheeks and willed herself to cool down. With a final grimace at her reflection, she slipped the strap of her purse on her shoulder, picked up the bag, and walked casually out to greet Ben.

  “Hey.” Ben’s eyes twinkled with pleasure when she stepped in the room. She loved the way his smile started in his eyes, his mouth curving into a slow, soft and—whew! Was it hot in here?

  Because that look in his eyes, his smile, wasn’t his already devastatingly charming smile. No, this one contained an almost lupine quality to it, like a predator, intent on stalking and plundering its prey until it was beyond sated.

  Suddenly she was nervous as hell. Then he blinked and it was gone.

  “Hey, yourself,” she said, trying to quell the fluttering of her heart. Tearing her gaze away, she looked expectantly at Rome, waiting for his fatherly admonishment to return at a specific time.

  Only he didn’t. Seated at the couch, his laptop on the coffee table in front of him, he gave distracted wave. “Have a good time.”

  “Ready?” Confused, she looked stupidly at Ben. “Uh. Yeah.”

  “Great, because I’m starving. You do like Italian food, right?”

  Willow mumbled something, letting Ben help her on with her coat, and they left.

  As if sensing her unease, Ben was light and easy on the way to the restaurant, telling her funny stories about the people at the ski lodge. It worked. By the time they reached Vince’s restaurant she no longer felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter.

  Still giggling over his account about two boys flirting with two girls and the resulting ski lift mishap, she allowed him to help her from his truck. Hand in hand, they walked to the front door, only to be stopped by an exiting customer, one whose polite smile brightened when he saw Ben.

  “Ben, my man!”

  “Hey, Derek.”

  Derek placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Thanks again for helping out with the bath remodel. My wife loves it and now I’m the recipient of all her gratitude, if you know what I mean.” He winked at Willow and left.

  Ben caught Willow’s waiting expression. “Ah. Derek Benson. Helped him with a bathroom remodel for the wife.”

  “So I heard. And it sounds as if he’s more pleased than his wife.”

  Interestingly enough, Ben blushed, and Willow pressed her lips together to hold in a laugh. “Yeah. Well. There you go.” Clearing his throat, he tugged her inside.

  Once seated, they had no problem keeping the conversation flowing. Twice his phone rang, and he ignored both calls.

  They were, however, interrupted several times throughout dinner by people who came to the table to greet Ben, a few copying Derek and giving their thanks for some deed Ben had done for them; most just said hi.

  At the moment, one particular man was talking about night skiing and while Ben appeared nonplussed, Willow, who found a new and delightful pastime studying his features, noticed his smile wasn’t anywhere close to his eyes, and he seemed uncharacteristically tense.

  Smiling to herself, she reached into her purse. Ben might have ignored the earlier phone calls, but maybe he wouldn’t ignore this one. Angling her body, she surreptitiously ran a fingertip over the touchscreen. Luckily her hand was over her mouth when Ben’s phone rang, because she nearly snorted when Music Box Dancer began playing.

  Ben froze for a fraction of an instant before a spark of laughter lit his eyes. “You’ll have to excuse me, Todd. I need to get this, then Willow and I need to go or we’ll be late.”

  “Oh, oh, sure. You bet.”

  After Clueless Todd left, Willow smirked at Ben. “Music Box Dancer?”

  His shoulders lifted in a shrug, drawing her gaze to the way the brown henley stretched over his muscles. “Thought it fit.”

  “Hmmm.”

  He leaned over the table. “I’m sorry about this, Will. I never thought we’d be mobbed.”

  Willow mused that over as they left and headed to the school. Ben was obviously well liked in the town. He did things for people with no expectations. She thought of Rose, and the schoolkids to whom he was going to teach ice skating. How he was part of the search-and-rescue team, and the reluctant admission that he was a tracker.

  Ben was a people person, generous and sincere, and everyone loved him. For some strange reason she felt a sense of pride unfurl inside her.

  A knock on the girl’s changing room made her gasp. “You ready yet or are you waiting on the full thirty minutes? ‘Cause I can tell you that passed ten minutes ago and we’ve only got the pool to ourselves for another hour and a half.”

  “Just a sec.” Pulling gray shorts on over her swim bottoms, Willow paused, because not only had Ben somehow convinced the pool cleaner to hold off until eight, Ben had the code and keys to get into the school. And the keys weren’t just a borrowed set. They’d been on his key chain, right next to his truck and several other keys.

  Just what was Ben to the people of Woodcliff?

  Tucking her towel around her, she opened the door to ask Ben just that, when all the spit dried up in her mouth and she gaped.

  Hello, chest.

  Ben’s bare, muscled, delicious chest greeted her on the other side of the door. “You going swimming in the towel?”

  Dragging her dazed eyes from his chest took all her might, yet the male satisfaction in his eyes at her reaction brought her back to sanity. The conceited oaf knew what the s
ight of all that hard yummy flesh was doing to her brain and was supremely pleased. “Ah. Funny.” She walked around him to the shallow end of the pool.

  “I’m surprised the school didn’t do more with this area.” Keeping her back to him while speaking was much easier. “You know. Liven it up for the kids.”

  Willow felt the heat of his body seep into hers as he came up behind her, his scent, clean, masculine and pure Ben, drugging her senses and making her belly pitch and tremble.

  Maybe turning her back on him hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

  “What do you suggest?” His voice was soft in her ear, his hands gentle yet sure as he reached around to loosen her towel. Rough fingertips brushed the top swell of her breasts.

  A shiver coursed through her, but she forged on, determined not to turn around and jump his bones at the slightest provocation. She looked at the drab wall. “I’d definitely paint the walls, maybe a couple of murals depicting sea creatures or a scene from The Little Mermaid.”

  There. That didn’t sound too breathy. Did it?

  “I like that idea. Why the shorts, Will?” His hands rested lightly on her hips.

  She shifted, placing on foot on top of the other. “I’m still a bit self-conscience about my scar. Not much I can do about the one on my knee unless I wear sweats in the pool.”

  His hands tightened for just a moment before he murmured against her neck, “It’s just me.” He slipped his fingers under the waistband and started sliding them down her legs.

  She let him.

  It seemed to take him a really long time to divest her of her shorts, his journey back up taking even longer. His hands wrapped around her calves. She felt his warm breath against her skin, then the soft press of his lips at the back of each knee, followed by another kiss at her hip, right over her scar.

  Stunned, throat thick at the sensual caress, she watched wide-eyed as he stepped around her and into the pool. “Phase Two of Pleasing Willow.” He lifted a hand, one brow arched invitingly over smiling eyes that matched the curve of his lips. “Join me, won’t you?”