Wolf's Hunger (Alpha's Hunger Book 1) Page 13

  I stepped forward and smacked his arm. “I’m serious, Tristan!” I said. My blood pressure had just jumped a hundred and fifty percent, and sweat was beginning to bead on my back. I lowered my voice to a hoarse whisper. “What if…what if someone I used to know sees it?”

  “Ah,” Tristan said, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. “Do you think there’s a chance of that?”

  “Well, Jack and my mother are not exactly the kind of people who are likely to read the Times. Still, I should have thought of that before I agreed to go public.” I ground my jaw. “I should have asked you to keep it quiet. I’m such an idiot.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Tristan said. “It’s mine. I should have told your colleagues to keep it secret. As a precaution, though, we should probably make you a little scarce after opening night tomorrow. Maybe you should come stay with me for a few days.”

  “Really?” I asked. The thought of it made me just a little too happy. I’d tried staying with him once already, and it hadn’t exactly gone swimmingly.

  Of course, I hadn’t known then what I knew now.

  He slipped towards me and put his arms around me, taking care not to crush my drink against my body. “I want to look after you,” he said. “Not in the sexist you’re too weak to look after yourself way, either. I just want to have you near me.”

  “I know,” I replied, the words vibrating into his chest. “I know you just want to protect me. You’re my…”

  I wanted to call him my wolf. But that would have made me sound pretty insane to any passerby who happened to hear. His secret was even more crucial to keep close to the chest than mine was, if it was possible. I could never let anyone know who—or what—Tristan really was. For one thing, they’d lock me up in an institution. There was no way the public at large would ever believe that the handsome bachelor they loved to speculate about was actually a part-time lupine.

  “Listen,” he said, ignoring the confused look on my face. “Speaking of spending time together, are you busy after work today?”

  “No,” I told him, pulling back to look into his eyes and reassure myself that everything was right with the world. “Why? What’s up?” I didn’t dare hope that we could finally have a normal evening together, one where we weren’t interrupted by battles or misunderstandings, or shifters barging through the door to try and rip my face off.

  “There’s something I want to show you.”

  I pulled my chin down and threw him a what the hell look. “Really, Tristan? Um, last time you said that, it didn’t end well,” I chastised.

  He laughed. “True. But this time won’t involve a plane. Or secrets.”

  “Promise?”

  “Well, okay, maybe some secrets. But I’ll tell you anything you need to know, how’s that?”

  “Okay, fine. Meet me at the theater at six, then, and I’ll go wherever you want with you.” I looked down at my clothes—a pair of jeans and an old t-shirt. “Is this okay to wear on our secret outing? I mean, I could go home and change…”

  “This is perfect,” he told me, pulling at the front of my shirt. “You look sexy in anything.” He lifted my right hand to his lips, kissed it, then we began the short walk over to the theater.

  As we trudged along, I took a sip of my latte and wondered when, if ever, I’d ever get to kiss those lips of his. He hadn’t tried anything last night, hadn’t seen me naked in what felt like days now. For all we’d discussed last night, we hadn’t talked about the status of our relationship. Had we somehow gone from lovers to good friends? Were we work colleagues now, or just allies among those who resided somewhere deep within New York’s dark underbelly?

  When Tristan reached for my hand, I had my answer. He wouldn’t walk down the street holding the hand of a woman he regarded as nothing more than a friend. Tristan Wolfe was too famous a man to do such a thing in public.

  Before our first kiss had come, we’d unofficially become boyfriend and girlfriend, and I felt genuinely, sustainably happy for the first time in recent memory. Happy to have him in my life. Happy to feel like I might have a future to look forward to. A career to advance.

  Happy to have let the ghosts and shadows that had haunted me for so long leave me last night, to flit off into the ether.

  For the first time in my adult life, I felt free.

  By six p.m., the actors were working through their last dress rehearsal on stage, the director, Doug, occasionally shouting last-minute commands at them.

  Be more sincere!

  Look at her like you mean it!

  Don’t move around the stage like a gorilla on Xanax!

  I was seated in the audience, watching the last run-through of the last play that the Venezia would put on before I took over as owner. The last play before this place changed forever.

  When my eyes scanned the set, a deep sense of accomplishment filled me as it always did, to see that I’d designed a small, pretty world for the actors to inhabit for a few short weeks. The crew had built it, then I’d toiled over the bulk of the paint job—something most set designers weren’t expected to do. But I did it because I loved it.

  It felt good to be a part of something bigger than myself.

  The cast had greeted me happily that afternoon, excited to learn of Tristan’s gift to me. A couple of the actresses—and one of the male actors—had asked about him. One young woman in particular was wide-eyed about it. “I saw in the paper that you’re dating him!” she’d chirped. Only when she said those words did I realize that I hadn’t actually read the article. I supposed Tristan must have told someone at the theater that we were an item—which wasn’t a bad thing. I wasn’t exactly embarrassed to be dating the sexiest man alive.

  Now, watching the rehearsal, a renewed sense of affection filled me for the cast and crew of my theater. Knowing we’d be able to stay together for the foreseeable future was the best gift Tristan could have given me.

  As I sat and watched, I felt someone slip up behind me and lean forward, his hot breath tickling my neck in a way that filled me with immediate desire.

  “Hello, beautiful,” whispered Tristan.

  “Hello,” I replied as I turned to look at him, for once letting my smile spread to its full, euphoric glory. He looked so damn good. He’d changed into a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt that hugged his body like a second skin, and reminded me that I’d still never seen that torso of his without a shirt covering it up.

  I could only hope to see it very, very soon. It had been far too long since I’d let myself hope to get naked with him.

  “Are you ready to head out?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Very ready,” I said. I looked down at my jeans and cotton shirt again. “I still feel weird about being dressed so casually, though.”

  “You’re perfect,” he said. “But do you have a jacket with you? It might get drafty where we’re going…”

  I nodded. “In one of the dressing rooms. I’ll grab it.”

  “I’ll come with you,” he replied.

  We made our way out a side exit and slipped down a narrow hallway towards the nearby row of dressing rooms. I turned in to the first one on the left, Tristan close behind me. As I stared ahead, I could see his reflection in the mirrors lining the wall, reminding me of the last time we’d been in a room like this.

  He shut the door, locking it with one quick gesture that sent another wave of desire crashing over me.

  “I’m not wearing any overalls for you to unbutton,” I said, spinning around to look at him.

  “No, and that’s a damned shame,” he replied. “Still, I’d be willing to bet I could find something on your body that I could undo easily enough.”

  “Don’t we have to leave?” I asked, laughing.

  He laid his hands on my waist and to my shock and awe, lifted and carried me a few feet to the dressing table, where he set me down gently.

  “Holy crap, you’re strong,” I said. I’d never realized quite how powerful he was, though in retrospect, he’d given me pl
enty of hints.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” he laughed. “As for leaving, we have a few minutes yet before we have to go. The thing is, I’ve been thinking all day about the things I wanted to do to you last night. The things I wanted to do this morning, too,” he breathed, moving in close. Pushing my hair out of his way, he trailed kisses down my neck, slipping down to move on to my breast, his teeth nipping ever so gently at my nipple through my shirt and bra.

  “Have you really been thinking about me all day?” I asked, my voice tight with need. “Like, what specifically?”

  “Like this,” he said, quickly lifting my shirt upwards and yanking the delicate lace of my bra down with his hands, exposing both breasts as I let out a gasp of shock and delight. Hungrily, he took one nipple into his mouth, then the other, lashing at me gently with his tongue. I arched my back in offer, savoring the sensation of his expert touch, and unsure of quite how I’d gone from learning last night that he was a creature with magical powers to making out with him in a dressing room.

  Life comes at you fast, I thought, writhing with pleasure.

  So fast, yet not fast enough.

  I wanted more.

  I placed my hands on either side of his jaw and pulled his face up.

  “Kiss me,” I said, drawing his gaze to mine. “I so want you to kiss me, Tristan Wolfe, and I don’t think I can stand waiting another minute.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I’m so damn sure. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

  For a second he looked like he was hesitating, but then his lips collided with mine, tongue driving its way to my own.

  The world dropped out from under me when we connected at last. I was grateful to be sitting down, as fire blazed in intense, scorching waves inside my body. Everything surged and moved, a dizzy headiness overtaking me, like my entire life was only now beginning to make sense for the first time.

  Tristan slipped his hands underneath my backside and scooped me up, our lips still locked, bodies pressing hard together. I could feel the throb of our sexes against one another, so frustratingly close, yet so far away, as we always seemed to be. Yet the tease was so good that I never wanted it to end. Never wanted to stop feeling so near to eternal perfection.

  It was in that moment that I realized with a dose of stark, icy fear that I never wanted to lose him. He must have felt the same way, because he held me close, even when our kiss had finally come to its end, and pressed his forehead to mine.

  “I’ve wanted to do that from the first,” he said. “From the moment I saw you sitting at that table alone, a few nights back. I’ve never desired anything so much as I’ve wanted your beautiful lips on mine. It’s been the hardest thing in the world to hold back, Ariana.”

  “Tell me about it,” I said, unable to come up with a more poetic response. “It’s killed me to resist you as much as I have—not that I’ve really resisted, mind you. I don’t think I could. You have some magical power over me, Wolfe.”

  “Wolfe,” he repeated, smiling. “My name is such a fucking giveaway, isn’t it? Yet I suppose it’s not at all.”

  “No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I knew you were something special. I just didn’t know what. I can’t say that a wolf would have been the first thing on my mind.”

  “Well, now you know almost everything about me. But there’s still one thing left undone,” he told me, easing my feet down to the floor. His eyes shone bright under the dressing room bulbs, piercing my flesh straight to my core as usual. Sensual, seductive wolf. “Something I want to do soon, when the time is right. When you’re ready for me.”

  “I assume that you’re talking about sex?” I asked. “You know, you’re pretty old-fashioned, Tristan. Most men expect it on the first date nowadays. You’ve been very patient. Of course, so have I.”

  He shook his head. “No, it’s not a question of patience. When I bond with you, I want it to be everything you deserve. I want you to understand how serious I am about you. I want you to feel it with every fiber of your being.”

  Sex to Tristan was beginning to sound like a solemn rite. I’d never met a man who took it so seriously.

  I was beginning to wonder if all the rumors about him with supermodels had been exaggerated. Maybe he had been seen on dates with them, but it was starting to seem entirely possible that he’d never actually had sex with any of them.

  Still, I didn’t ask. Nothing ruined a mood like delving into your lover’s past sexual exploits.

  All I wanted to think about was the future.

  “Come on,” he said, taking my hand. “We have somewhere we need to be. I’ll kiss those lips more later.”

  Chapter 22

  We walked over to the Washington Square Station and hopped on the Orange line towards Flushing Meadows. I considered asking Tristan why we were taking public transit when he was richer than God, but I’d learned by now that there was always a reason behind his actions. If we were on a train, it was because he had something in mind.

  The subway was crowded, as usual for this hour, but I wasn’t about to complain about being pressed up against my boyfriend, who kept a hand on some part of me at all times. Each time I looked at him, I caught his blue eyes staring at me, a funny little smile on those sexy-as-hell lips of his. It was all I could do not to kiss him every two minutes. I wanted to make out like teenagers and annoy everyone around us.

  It took me a little while to realize that even though we were restraining ourselves from a total tonsil-hockey-fest, other riders were staring in our direction. Occasionally I’d catch sight of a woman gawking at Tristan, or someone snapping a photo of us both on a smartphone. I wondered how many shots of our bodies mashed together would end up on social media tonight. But somehow, I’d ceased to care. There were worse things than being seen in public with the world’s most perfect man. It wasn’t like most of these people knew who I was, anyhow. It was only their fascination with my lover that made them click obsessively.

  “Do you want me to ask them to delete the pictures?” Tristan asked me. He’d read my mind, as usual.

  “Nah,” I replied. “Let them have their fun. If I were them, I’d want a pic of you too.”

  “You can have all the photos of me you’d like,” he said before laying a longer-than-is-decent kiss on my lips. “But I’d rather you have the real thing.”

  “Me too.”

  By the time we’d travelled several stops, the car had emptied out somewhat and a few empty seats stared invitingly at us.

  “Do you want to sit?” I asked, but Tristan shook his head.

  “No. You need to stay with me and be ready,” he said mysteriously, taking my hand and pulling me closer. He kissed me again, reminding me that soon maybe we’d finally consummate this insane relationship of ours. “We’ll be getting off in a little.”

  I looked up at the map. “Northern Boulevard Station?” I asked. “I wouldn’t have expected that, but okay. My curiosity is definitely piqued.”

  “Good. I like it when you’re intrigued. Makes me feel like I’m doing something right.”

  “You’re always doing something right,” I told him. “Like now, looking at me like that, you’re doing something very right to my loins.”

  Tristan chuckled and pushed his face close to my neck. “I only wish I could get my tongue somewhere near your loins and lick you until you come,” he whispered.

  “You and me both.”

  After a minute or so, the train slowed down then pulled to a stop inside the dark tunnel between the two nearest stations. I looked up at Tristan, who seemed utterly unfazed by this development.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” announced a garbled voice over the loudspeaker, “we are experiencing a small technical delay. The train will begin moving again in approximately thirty seconds.”

  I looked at Tristan and shrugged. I didn’t much care if we were late, as long as we were together.

  He smiled as if he knew exactly what w
as going on. “Trust me?” he asked, renewing his grip on my hand.

  I nodded.

  He pulled himself backwards until he stood in front of the doors, which opened behind him. My jaw dropped to shout a warning. But as if he knew exactly what he was doing, he leapt backwards, pulling me with him into the tunnel. I tumbled out, unprepared and unbalanced, but he caught me in his arms just as I heard the whoosh of the doors behind me.

  I turned and looked towards the train to see that not a single passenger was staring out the window at us. No one seemed to have noticed what had just happened.

  “What the…?” I asked, letting out a confused chuckle. We were standing in the dark, too close for comfort to a train that was about to begin moving again, and I had no idea how we’d gotten here, or where we were going.

  But somehow, I knew it was all part of Tristan’s plan.

  “Come on,” he said, pressing close to the wall and leading me towards the back of the train, which had started moving slowly.

  “Did you do that?” I asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Stop an entire subway line in its tracks.”

  “Of course,” he said. “I run this city. I thought you knew that by now.”

  I let out a laugh. “I’d heard rumors, but I didn’t exactly believe them until now. I guess I stand corrected, or something.”

  He guided me a hundred feet or so towards a set of steps that led to a door with a small, round window. A yellow glow pierced through the glass invitingly, seeming to call upon us to enter. We scaled the steps in the darkness, then Tristan pulled the door open and guided me into whatever strange place awaited us.

  “After you,” he said.

  Wordlessly, I stepped through the doorway into a narrow corridor. It, like the subway tunnel, was dark with soot, its walls all but black. But I could see now that the light that had been shining out through the window was coming from a series of torches that hung along the walls. Such a display seemed strange, to say the least. Who had lit them? Why were they even here?