N. Walters - Isaiah's Haven

Moaning, she waited for it to pass. She pressed her thighs together and wrapped her arms around her body. There was nothing she could do but ride out the ripples of pure, unadulterated lust. It was worse than it had been in years. Yet something else she could blame on Isaiah. Having him around, being attracted to him, made the situation much harder for her to bear.

When the episode finally eased, she dragged herself to her feet, almost clunking herself with her purse, which miraculously was still hooked over her shoulder. She staggered into her room, dumped her purse in the chair and kicked off her shoes.

She tore her shirt off, ignoring the ripping sound. Her bra came next. She heaved a sigh of relief as the cooler air hit her nipples. Jeans and panties quickly followed.

Naked, she climbed onto the bed and sank into the mattress. She wedged one pillow between her thighs and held the other in a death grip. When the next ripple of arousal shot through her, she buried her face in the pillow and moaned.

It was going to be a hell of a long day.

Isaiah strode into Haven. Once again, Hank had been on the door. The bouncer had growled, but allowed him to pass. The young male knew trying to stop him would only bring trouble and attention and that was exactly what they didn’t want.

Tammy, the human waitress, waved at him as he settled at a table. This was the third night since his dance with Meredith. Heck, he was almost a regular at this point.

He glanced around but didn’t see the object of his desire anywhere, but that wasn’t unusual. She might be in the office or checking on something in the kitchen. He knew from his past visits that she wouldn’t be away from the club floor for long.

His phone rang and he reached into his pocket, knowing who it was even before he answered. Only one person ever called him. “What?” The band chose that moment to begin playing a song, but thankfully it was an acoustic folk group tonight so he could hear his brother on the other end.

“Where the hell are you?”

“A club. I’m getting something to eat.” He hadn’t told his brother about Meredith. He hadn’t told anyone.

“Should I be worried?” Joshua asked. “It’s not like you to voluntarily go into a crowded bar. Takeout is more your speed. And why are you still in Chicago? I figured you’d have been home two days ago.”

“I’m not ready to leave yet.”

The silence on the other end was deafening. After a long minute, Joshua finally spoke. “Should I send someone else?”

Those few words sent him reeling, but Isaiah absorbed the blow. It was the first time in his life his brother had ever questioned his ability to carry out any task. And damn it, it hurt worse than he’d thought.

“I need a few more days. Is that too much to ask? Alex will get her stuff.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to come to Chicago?”

Isaiah released a low growl of warning. “If you don’t trust me to do the job, send whoever the hell you want.” He almost ended the call. Almost. But habit and instinct were too entrenched to be denied, so he waited.

“I’m worried about you, not the damn job,” Joshua snarled.

The anger flowed out of him as quickly as it had arisen. He’d been tense the past few days. Arousal was riding him hard.

He spent all his days watching for rogue werewolves and bounty hunters and his nights with a raging hard-on with no relief in sight. Meredith had been giving him the cold shoulder since the night of their dance. Still, he’d managed to steal several hot kisses. The woman wanted him no matter how she tried to ignore it.

“You still there?” his brother prompted.

“Yeah. I’m still here.” He appreciated Joshua’s concern, but the last thing he needed was his brother running around the city and maybe discovering Meredith and her pack. It was important to her to keep her small pack off the radar of the bigger ones. He respected that even if he wasn’t quite sure why she did it. There was safety in numbers. “I’m just tense. I haven’t seen anyone, but the back of my neck is tingling.”

“Good enough,” Joshua said. “Give it another day or two and, if you still feel that way, leave it and we’ll try again in a month or so.”

“Will do. Talk to you soon.” Tammy set his beer on the table as he finished his call with his brother. He clicked off and tucked his phone away. “Thanks, Tammy. Where’s Meredith?”

The blonde waitress was amused by his pursuit of Meredith and the way both her sons watched and glared at him all night long. It was nice to have someone on his side. Tammy chewed on her bottom lip. “Benjamin said she was sick. But I’ve worked here for almost a year and Meredith has never taken a sick day. She shows up every night, even if it’s just for an hour or two.”

Fear clenched his gut, but he let none of his concern show outwardly. “Thanks.” He sat back, picked up his glass and sipped his beer. Over the rim, he studied the men working behind the bar. Competent was the word that came to mind. Tough was another.

What had led them here? It was a question he’d asked himself about a hundred times over the past few days. Sitting on the rooftop by Riley’s Garage watching for bounty hunters and rogue werewolves gave him plenty of time to think. He was a man of action and all this downtime was starting to get on his nerves. He wanted an enemy he could face and fight.

Barring that, a bout of long, hot sex would do.

He shifted in his chair, doing his best to ignore the permanent bulge in the front of his jeans. He’d been forced to take himself in hand, so to speak, several times over the past couple of days. It eased the stress for a short while, but the moment he saw Meredith the sexual desire came storming back.

Where was she?

He didn’t bother to order anything to eat. He’d grabbed a pizza on the way back to his motel room and devoured it before he’d showered and changed. The only thing that could quench his hunger was Meredith and, so far, she was proving to be elusive.

The lean redhead with the tats and piercings worked his way around the room and headed toward his table. He hadn’t had much contact with this member of the pack. There was a barely suppressed air of violence surrounding him, as though he was hanging on to his temper by a thread. Teague was his name. He’d learned all their names and a little bit about them. Tammy was a font of information.

He seemed unlikely to be mated with gentle Neema, but there was no doubting the devotion between the pair. There was also no doubting that Teague would kill anyone who threatened his mate. Isaiah could respect that.

“You need to go home.” Teague wasted no time on pleasantries and got straight to the point.

He lifted his glass and took another sip of beer. “I’m just enjoying a drink.”

Teague clenched his jaw and frustration crossed his face. “You need to leave Meredith alone.”

Isaiah studied the younger man. They were all younger than Meredith. By how much, he couldn’t be sure. But none of them seemed that old. He’d guess most of them to be in their thirties or early forties, barely adults in his world where childhood ended in the early twenties. Because they lived so long, they matured slower, not hitting their stride until they were in their fifties.

There was still no sign of Meredith. Whether she was sick or just avoiding him, he had to know. He also didn’t want to stir up the pack. Anything could happen without her calming influence.

Draining his glass in one swallow, Isaiah pushed back from the table and stood. He was bigger and stronger than the younger man, but Teague didn’t back down. A grin tugged at Isaiah’s mouth. Teague reminded him of his younger brother, Simon, more guts than common sense.