The Reluctant Wolf and His Fated Mate: A Howls Romance (White Mountain Shifters Book 1) Read online

  Sophie arched a brow at Shoulders. “Like you just did?”

  Shoulders motioned between them. “Am I invading your personal space?”

  She shrugged. It wasn’t that. He stood a respectable few feet away from her, not like the shorter guy who moved dangerously close to dry humping her leg. “No. It was still an odd move.”

  Shoulders placed his hand on his impressive chest. “My apologies. I’m not a club guy and I’m out of my comfort zone.”

  She could understand that since she was more of a Netflix or hanging in with a hot drink and a good book kind of gal.

  “What’s your name?” He assessed her with a long appraising glance—and one that seemed to caress all her curves without touching her.

  “Sophie.” She returned the bold stare, assessing his impressive torso, but stopping just before wandering into dangerous territory between his legs. “Yours?”

  “Damon.”

  She nodded and repeated his name in her head.

  “What brought you here tonight, Sophie?”

  The image of two naked bodies pulsed in her head as intrusive as the spotlights shining down. That rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh with each of his repeated thrusts from behind, repeating the piercing truth—they betrayed you.

  How long had her boyfriend and cousin been sleeping together behind her back? Sophie didn’t want to know. No matter what they told her, it was sure to be a lie.

  Enough.

  Sophie exhaled and glanced again at this hot stranger. “Escaping reality.”

  Damon’s eyes twinkled. “That sounds like an excellent reason to me.” He bent closer and murmured, “I’d like to escape with you.” His voice lowered with dark, velvety promise.

  She bit her lip. “Do you consider yourself ‘worthier’ than him?” Her voice had taken on a full-on flirtatious tone, which was so unlike her. She nodded in the direction to where the shorter guy had skittered through the crowd and disappeared.

  Damon’s eyes brightened with that amber glow again. “I hope you’ll give me a chance to prove it to you.” He offered his hand. “Dance with me.”

  That intense look and seductive voice ignited a fierce reaction inside her she almost didn’t recognize—desire. Her heart thumped with one hard beat after another.

  Rendered mute, she merely nodded. She cleared her throat. “Yes.”

  She took his hand and heat simmered beneath her skin. His touch seared her with a magnetic, almost magical sensation. Did he feel it, too?

  Judging by his rapt expression, the answer was yes. His mouth parted and eyes widened as if in awe.

  In the next second, he’d wiped that look away. The intense one was back. “Good. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you.” He brushed a finger down her bare arm.

  Her breath caught in her throat as a shiver of awareness rippled through her body. “Why?”

  He stared down at her from intense eyes. So dark and deep. How foolish of her to think they had been glowing.

  “Because you’ve captivated me from across the room.” He pulled her body closer to his and wrapped his large hand around her, settling it on her lower back.

  That might have been a line, but she didn’t care. The way he looked at her with that hungry glint in his eyes made her believe it.

  Duran Duran faded into a remix of the Pet Shop Boys East End Girls. Although the surrounding people moved at almost a frenetic pace as they threw their bodies around, Damon moved his hips opposite her to a slower, more sensual downbeat. She mirrored his movements.

  As he held her body close, she relaxed and went with the flow. In no time, they found a rhythm, as if their bodies recognized each other’s primal rhythm.

  That was what she had wanted tonight—to release all the anguish from the betrayal and just let loose. Tonight, she didn’t want to be Sophie, the wallflower graphic designer. She didn’t want to be the good girl betrayed. The one whose love life had been destroyed as suddenly as a tornado taking down a house and leaving devastation in its wake.

  Tonight, she yearned to be free. And maybe a little wild.

  Since she’d had a potent, fruity cocktail and had danced with Tara and her free-spirted nature for over an hour, Sophie’s inhibitions had lowered throughout the night. Dancing in his arms practically knocked any remaining self-consciousness out. For once, she wasn’t thinking. She was feeling.

  Her hair flowed loose and brushed her shoulders as she swayed. His hand was protective. Possessive. She moved without self-consciousness and felt sultry. Sexy as hell.

  It felt amazing.

  Goodbye, good girl graphic designer—someone more likely to be up all night to meet a deadline, rather than tangoing with a hottie in the sheets. Hello, the new Sophie, almost dirty dancing with a striking stranger.

  Could she let the fantasy continue? Pull off seductive siren for one night of escape?

  Damon

  Despite his non-dancing declaration earlier, Damon didn’t regret changing his mind. No one had ever made him feel so consumed by desire. He moved behind Sophie and placed his hands on her full hips, barely keeping from pressing against her lush ass.

  His wolf was triumphant. We found her. Our mate.

  She’s just a pretty woman, Damon countered.

  No, his wolf countered. She’s the one. Don’t you sense it?

  Damon gritted his teeth. He didn’t need a mate. They were nothing but misery, leading to agony and a cold, lonely death.

  But he couldn’t deny the overwhelming effect this woman had on him. He wanted to hold her, touch her, claim her.

  He moved his hands down her sides, inhaling her scent more deeply. It stirred a primal reaction in him that shot his desire through the rafters of this dark club.

  She dropped her head back towards his chest as they danced. The raging instinct drove higher. He couldn’t hold back from touching her any longer. He pressed his erection against her ass and moaned. That dizzying touch increased the need to do so much more.

  What the hell was he doing? Before he went too far right there on the dance floor, he spun her around, so she faced him again. He widened his stance to reduce the height difference. He took her arms and looped them around his neck.

  She stared at him from under hooded eyelids, desire palpable in her gaze. Despite all the human scents on the dance floor, all the perspiration and desire, he scented hers. She wanted him as much as he ached for her.

  Their bodies moved closer as they danced, as if unable to stay apart. He held her against him, hearts beating together. Everyone else in the room disappeared.

  Her scent intoxicated him. Her touch seemed to mark him as hers.

  He wanted to touch her everywhere, taste her. Claim her.

  Do it, his wolf urged. She’s our mate.

  Damon needed more of her.

  He pulled his upper body away just enough to look at her face. She glanced at him with anticipation. His gaze lowered to her mouth and her pink, pouty lips parted.

  Just a taste.

  He bent down as if in slow motion, enchanted by this desire. She seemed to be just as taken by him.

  The second his lips brushed hers, embers ignited throughout his body, soon exploding into flames. His wolf howled with relief. She was the one.

  They had to claim her.

  No, not here. Not in the middle of the dance floor. He didn’t want an audience to his desire.

  Damon stroked her upper arm and bent down. “Sophie, come with me.”

  Her eyes opened a fraction wider, revealing wide dark pupils that almost fully captured her blue irises. “Where?”

  He took her hand and led her through the crowd and into a shadowy nook at the back of the club. “Somewhere we can have a little more privacy.”

  Behind black tables where small groups chatted over drinks were couples close together in intimate conversations or making out far from the spotlights on the dance floor.

  “I just thought we’d come back here so we can—talk.” Yeah, right. Talking w
as the last thing he’d been thinking of in that state.

  She peered at him and teased, “Did you come here tonight to seduce a woman on the dance floor?”

  He chuckled. “No. It was more like peer pressure.” He faced her and traced along her cheek, her jawline, and then her throat. Her skin was as soft as the velvety moss on the forest floor. He wanted to feel the rest of her.

  Sophie stared at him from under dark lashes. He swallowed. The pull to her was too powerful, swallowing all the pounding bass that surrounded them.

  Damon placed his hands on either side of the wall, his large body shielding her from prying eyes. He couldn’t resist leaning down. His heart thundered in his ears. The world slowed during the agonizing wait to touch her lips again. When they finally met, he paused, momentarily stunned by that searing connection. There was something—something about this woman he’d just met that unglued him.

  Because she’s our mate, his wolf insisted.

  Damon ignored his wolf’s pestering once again and deepened the kiss. He edged his tongue along the seam of her mouth. She parted her lips wider, welcoming him in. A delicate sigh of relief escaped her, echoing his own need.

  As their tongues danced, he tasted the sweetness of mango. She wrapped one hand around the base of his neck, curling her fingers through his hair.

  Passion intensified, pushing them near breathless as both seemed desperate for more. Her breasts pressed against him. How he yearned to take her somewhere private where he could remove her dress and savor every inch of her.

  He ran his hands over the sides of her body, taking in the delicious feel of her curves. Reaching the bottom edge of her dress, he stroked her thigh. She trembled beneath his touch, gasping against his mouth. Almost certain they wouldn’t be seen back here, especially with him dressed in black and blocking the view of her body, he still opened his eyes to glance to either side to make sure nobody was watching them.

  Nobody that he saw seemed to give a damn. They were more interested with their own partners.

  His fingers edged higher, exploring the decadent path of her flesh. She took a slight step to the side, giving him greater access. His pulse hammered through his veins, his cock throbbed. He had to touch her. Needed to be inside her.

  His hands traveled higher. He agonized to feel that forbidden part of her.

  The heat between her legs was almost scorching. Finally, when he touched her, her satin panties were soaked. She moaned and then shuddered.

  She broke a hair’s breadth from his lips. “Oh, Damon,” she murmured.

  He plunged his tongue back into her mouth and began to slide his fingers beneath the seam, desperate to touch her wet, silky flesh.

  Sophie released a shaky exhale and dropped her head back against the wall. Opening her eyes half-mast, she glanced in both directions, and her eyes widened.

  She pushed at his chest. “Wait—what am I doing? We are in a public place.”

  He pulled his hand away and her dress fell, covering her. Dazed, he could barely find words to form through the sensual fog. “It’s okay.”

  She blinked a few times and glanced around. “It’s not okay.” She covered her chest. “I don’t know you. This isn’t like me.” Her eyes, full of desire only moments before, sparked with confusion and then widened with horror.

  “It’s all right.” He motioned with a slow, placating gesture. “Nobody should see us here.”

  “That doesn’t matter.” Her expression turned mortified. “I don’t act this reckless.”

  “I didn’t mean to come on to you so strong. We can slow things down.”

  She shook her head. “This won’t make anything better. I didn’t come here tonight to pick up a stranger. I need to go.” She slid to the side, away from him, and then rushed through the crowd.

  Follow her! his wolf urged.

  Despite the roaring instinct to pursue her, Damon kept his feet planted on the club floor that seemed sticky with beer. It was better to let her go.

  After she escaped from view, he closed his eyes. Regret smothered him like a punch to the solar plexus that claimed him of oxygen. He couldn’t breathe.

  Who was she? Had he made a terrible mistake in letting her leave?

  He reopened his eyes. She was gone.

  Chapter 2

  Sophie

  Six months later…

  Sophie chatted with the couple she rode up with on the chair lift. The scent of pine made it still smell like Christmas, although it was now February. Some teens must have thought they were decorating trees as they’d thrown colorful beads and an assortment of bras onto the branches.

  She had eyed the steep mountain face on each ascent up this chair lift and now felt ready to tackle it. The whoosh of a skier below kicking up snow as he took tight turns made her heart quicken. It would be a challenge for sure, but she anticipated that descent. There would be no greater thrill to end the day than to ski this run.

  Tara had gone back to their condo after lunch. She’d gotten her period early yesterday, and was still sore from skiing for the first time this season. She said the first day was always the worst for her, with headaches and cramps and a nice bout of insomnia. Added to the soreness in her legs, she was done for the day.

  “Go have fun without me,” Tara had said. “I’m going to rest and take a sleeping pill to help me get through the night. We’ll catch up tomorrow. We have another full day before we leave on Sunday.”

  Sophie was a more advanced skier than Tara. They’d spent Friday morning on their weekend getaway on the trails together, but once Tara left, Sophie challenged herself with more difficult runs. She’d worked up to skiing mostly black diamond runs. This would be her last run of the day, and she’d make it a good one.

  “You don’t mind skiing alone?” the blond woman who appeared to be in her forties asked from beside her on the chairlift.

  “It’s only for the afternoon,” Sophie replied. “Besides some alone time on the mountain is exactly what I need right now.”

  It gave her a chance to breathe and escape the chaos of the city. Although she loved her job and the energetic vibe of working in Boston, the tension from all that peopling could get to her.

  A woman skied down the steep double black diamond trail before them, nailing it with tight turns that kicked up plumes of snow behind her.

  “She’s killing it. That’s a tough trail,” the guy on the other end of the triple chair noted. “It tore up my quads when I tried it.”

  “I’ve been eying it all afternoon, working up to it,” Sophie replied. “I’m feeling pretty good about it now and ready for the challenge.”

  “Good for you. Confidence is key,” he said with a nod. “Watch out for the ice, though. I noted some patches on the left.”

  “Will do, thanks.” It wasn’t her first time she’d skied this trail on this mountain, but it was the first time in a decade. She used to come up to the White Mountains to ski with her family, and they’d visited Franconia Mountain a few times. It had expanded a great deal during that time. No longer just a ski mountain with a few basics for food and lodging nearby, it had since developed into a ski resort with a sprawling commercial village below.

  They reached the peak. “Have a good run,” she said to the couple before climbing out of the chair and skiing left while the couple skied right to the easier trails.

  Sophie stared down, and her heart raced. The challenge of this steep pitch ahead hit her with a slap. Steep now seemed like an understatement. It looked near vertical from this angle. Maybe she’d taken on more than she could handle.

  “You can do it.” She gave herself a pep talk.

  Right. She could. She’d done so when she was fourteen. Why not now ten years later? She had additional years of skiing experience.

  She gritted her teeth and focused on her form. Skis pointed down the trail, body facing forward, legs tight. Most important, stay in control.

  One-two-three. She pitched forward and blasted down.

 
Sophie kept her gaze ahead and concentrated on tight turns. The air hit her face and the exhilaration of speed hit her with a rush. She avoided the left side of the trail as that guy had noted the ice. Still, she kept watch for any other patches or obstacles. The constant grind of skis and snowboards throughout the day could expose more.

  A patch of ice ahead was coming up quickly. She barely had enough time to veer around it. But then, she didn’t see the next one that she skied right into.

  She skidded and lost her balance. One ski flew off the ground.

  Sophie righted herself without falling and exhaled with relief. But not for long.

  She hadn’t regained control of her direction and speed. She veered off trail and into the woods, narrowly missing a tree.

  Shit. Trees were dangerous. Being out of control at this speed could be deadly. She cut her skis into the snow, desperately trying to slow herself down, while trying to avoid kissing the trees in a fatal embrace. Her heartbeat skyrocketed and her skin turned clammy beneath her snow gear.

  After cutting, fighting, and struggling, she somehow managed to slow down—but not without falling on her ass with enough force that it knocked the wind out of her.

  Damn. She sat unmoving for several seconds. Breathing felt like rubbing her lungs over shards of ice. She glanced around, disoriented. How deep had she headed into the woods?

  After another minute or two, she breathed with more ease. Time to get up and get moving.

  By some miracle, she hadn’t lost her skis. She used her poles to pull herself to her feet. She turned back up to look at the path she came down and grunted. No way was she climbing up that steep pitch in skis and ski boots. She’d be drenched in sweat after three heavy steps.