Lone Wolf's Captive (novella) by Sherilee Gray Page A

didn’t sound anything like the naïve twenty-one year old he’d been when they’d last been together. He knew from experience the way he sounded now unnerved some people.
    He lightly gripped her elbow, warmth seeped through her soft sweater, searing his palm. He sucked in a breath, taking in a lungful of her familiar, exquisite scent.
    Jesus.
    She continued reading, assuming he was one of her keepers. He didn’t know how she did it, but she never lifted her head once and allowed him to guide her towards his truck.
    This whole abduction thing was going a hell of a lot easier than he thought it would, thanks to her complete lack of self-preservation.
    They reached his truck and he pulled the door open for her. Delaney threw her bag in then climbed up. Head still down, she flicked over the top sheet of paper and continued to study whatever it was that had her so engrossed.
    Fletch went around to the driver’s side, flung the cap and glasses in the back, climbed in and sliding the keys into the ignition, sat back to wait.
    Holy shit . His heart felt like a jack hammer trying to break through his ribcage.
    Come on, look at me, baby.
    A lock of reddish-brown silk slid down to rest against her cheek and she bit her lip. He wanted to reach out, brush it behind her ear and trail his fingers down her smooth, satin skin.
    When she finished reading her page, she didn’t turn to the next. No, her shoulders tensed, her entire body going rigid. Little lines crinkled her nose and she took a delicate sniff.
    Five, four, three, two…
    A ragged gasp filled the silence, and the sheets of paper clutched in her hands slipped from her fingers, tumbling to the floor.
    “Fletch?” Her eyes remained focused on a spot by her feet.
    “Yeah.” He clenched his fists to stop from reaching for her.
    He didn’t know how this would play out. Five years was a fucking long time. It cost him, but he managed to school his features and wait for her to make the next move.
    Her head snapped up, amber eyes wide. “Fletch?” Scrambling to her knees, she slammed her back against the door, staring at him like she couldn’t quite believe he was real, like she was looking at a ghost.
    He stared back, letting her get over the shock of seeing him, doing his best to mask the hurricane ripping him to shreds on the inside.
    The longest damn minutes of his shitty life.
    A pained sound tore from her throat and without another word, she pounced, landing in his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck.
    Stunned, he sat completely still as she nuzzled at his neck and jaw, alternating between drawing in his scent and raining smacking kisses all over his face and neck. Then all intelligible thought dissolved at the press of Delaney’s soft curves against him.
    Oh God, she felt good, so damn good. He curled his fingers around her hips, loving the way her strong thighs bracketed his. Her soft hair brushed his cheek and he turned into it, burying his nose, holding her to him and overloading his senses with her familiar, delicate scent.
    She thrust her fingers into his overgrown hair, nails lightly scraping against his scalp. Oh yeah. If he’d been in wolf form his tail would be wagging hard enough to cause a tornado. As it was, stopping his foot from thumping against the floor was hard enough.
    His eyes rolled to the back of his head. It was hard, but he managed to keep his tongue in his head and his panting to a minimum as she continued to run her fingers over his scalp and through his hair. He needed to say something, but the way her curvy body moved against his was making it impossible to form a coherent sentence.
    “It’s really you?”
    With her head tucked under his chin, her lips brushed against his throat, making his skin tingle. She was killing him. “Yeah, Sugar. It’s me.”
    “You’re not dead,” she whispered. The subtle contact of those lips moving on him again had his body trembling beneath hers. It took all his effort not to pull her up and take