Wolf Bite (Wolf Cove #2) (10 page)

Chapter Eleven

“Not bad for the Alaskan wild, right?”

I peel my vacant stare away from the mingling crowd to
acknowledge Rich, the main host from Lux, who has learned how to juggle Henry’s
constant dinner reservation changes like a pro, saving my butt more than once.
“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“They needed a slave with fine-dining experience. I fit the
bill.” He scans me from head to toe. “You clean up well.”

I offer him a weak smile. “Thanks. I had help.”

“
Right.
I heard the Barbie dolls are back together
under one roof again.” A wry smile twists his lips. “Tonight should be
interesting.”

I assume he’s talking about Katie and Rachel. Does he know
about them? Does everybody? Probably. I guess I’m naïve about that, too. I
hadn’t even given thought to what might be going on in the bunk next to me with
this unexpected reunion.

I really need to buy myself a pair of earplugs.

“Any guesses on how much tonight is going to cost Wolf?”

“No idea. A lot.” I let my eyes wander over the room again. I
listened to Belinda describe what would be done to the room but somehow I
managed to walk in completely surprised. The room lends itself to a more rustic
theme to begin with, with plenty of rich wood paneling along the walls and
antler-cast candelabras. But the explosion of white flowers and simple white
pillar candles along with Wedgwood china and servers dressed in old-fashioned
butler uniforms turn the space into a high-end romantic cave.

When we arrived, it was still daylight and the view of the
mountains framed within the glass wall of windows was awe-inspiring. The photo
ops took close to an hour, followed by a few cocktails, followed by the
official ceremony. The Wolf men shared the stage with various political
notables for the idyllic ribbon-cutting ceremony, Scott standing stoically off
to the side, his face unreadable. William, introduced as the owner of Wolf Hotels,
gave a short speech about the history of the Wolf family, and how proud they
are to have brought their legacy back to Alaska in the form of this majestic
hotel.

But he quickly passed the microphone over to his son,
applauding him for his business sense, his bold risk-taking, and his passion
for Alaska.

I held my breath as Henry stood up there, enchanting the
crowd of several hundred with his captivating form and his polished words,
enrapturing the women—and some men—in the crowd with his very presence. There’s
just something magnetic about the man. Even though I’ve spent the night
convincing myself that I hate him, I couldn’t help but listen to him intently.
To his genuine love of Alaska and the memories it has held, for his hopes for
the future as president and CEO of the entire company.

That was hours ago. Now the orchestra is finished, the
elaborate candelabras are burning bright, and a steady thrum of electronic
music courses through the air. I’ve never actually been to a club, but I
imagine this is what it is, the steady procession of alcohol sure to guarantee
a night of debauchery. Where earlier women were moving gracefully, standing
upright and sucking everything in, they’re now throwing their heads back with wild
laughter. Where men arrived layered in their tuxes, they’ve now cast away
waistcoats and bow ties dangle from collars.

Except for Henry, of course. He stands statuesque, holding
the same drink he started with after speeches, listening and smiling and
occasionally grazing a woman’s arm or shoulder, or the small of her back.

And every time he does, I see them catch their breath, and
fire lights in their eyes.

And a pang of sorrow stabs me in the chest.

“I’ve heard these Wolf parties go late. Stick around if you
want a good show. Should be fun,” Rich murmurs.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I shift my feet, the heels
beginning to hurt. I’d love to kick them off. I haven’t sat down in hours. I
don’t know how Belinda does it. I’ve watched her strut around all night in her
stilettos without a hint of discomfort.

Scott has been conspicuously absent since the ceremony. At
least,
I
noticed when the round of applause was over, the string of
violins began, and William Wolf leaned into his ear, sending him off stage and
out the door immediately after.

I can’t say I’m not happy about it.

“Oh, looks like Wolf needs you. See you around.” Richard
takes off, offering a nod toward Henry as they pass each other. Henry merely glares
at him before adjusting his sights on me, something he’s done very little of
all night. I’ve stayed within ten feet of him, a shadow that floats unseen, but
taking in everything he does, aware of his every move, and I’ve barely caught
his attention, even in passing.

Roshana has been watching him intently, too. I’ve found
small consolation in the fact that she hasn’t been attached to him all night,
but she’s been watching. With every hair flip, she takes the opportunity to
mark his location.

Just like most women in here do.

Henry is a prize in their eyes. I guess he was a prize in my
eyes, too.
Was
being the operative word. Now it just plain hurts.

“I no longer need you tonight. You can go home. Take the
morning off and come to my place at one.” He’s his usual public self—detached, impersonal.

“Okay.” I steal one last look at his impassive face and then
head for the exit.

~ ~ ~

“Abbi!”

My bunkmate’s voice carries across the narrow corridor by
the lobby. I haven’t talked to Autumn in days. Of all of us, the concierges
have been working the hardest to please guests. I heard they’re understaffed,
which doesn’t help.

She speeds over to meet me by the indoor water fountain—a dazzling
sculpture of stone and logs, intended to represent a natural waterfall. “You
look...
incredible
!” Her green eyes sparkle as they skate over my
features.

“Thanks.”

“Are you done for the night?”

“Yeah. You?”

“I wish. I have another hour to go.” Her angular face,
highlighted by an adorable pixie cut that I could never pull off, scrunches up.
“These media people are awful. My lips have been attached to their asses all day
and night and I’m sick of it. Now they’re drunk and even more demanding. I just
spent fifteen minutes trying to explain to one of them that, no, they can’t go
for a two-mile hike in the middle of the night because there are animals out
there that will eat them! So now we have to alert security to keep an eye out
for any idiots heading toward the trails.” She scoffs, making her annoyance
somehow funny, and I start to laugh. It feels good.

“It’s getting late. Maybe they’ll be too drunk to do
anything but sleep.”

“Yeah.” She rolls her eyes. “After they finish fornicating
in public. You want a good laugh? Grab a drink and talk your way into the
security room. Those guys see the full gamut of things on nights like these.
People in stairwells, in hallways. Sneaking into banquet rooms. Apparently
there were two people getting hot and heavy on this last night.” She points at
the log-carved bench next to us. “The woman was giving the dude a hand job. Security
had to politely escort them to their rooms.”

Oh my God.

“Yeah. Anyway, you should come to the staff lodge tonight. A
few of us are going to de-stress with some drinks.”

“I’ll think about it.” Apparently the staff lodge has become
one big party most nights. There’s always someone who doesn’t have to get up
early in the morning for their next shift, and the Outdoor crew doesn’t care if
they go to work hungover.

“The big bad wolf is running you ragged, isn’t he?” She
tsks. “I heard he’s not easy to work for.”

“No, he’s not.” That’s an understatement.

“But, hey! I heard you had something to do with getting
Rachel back here, so I guess you hold some sway.” Autumn nods to something
behind me. “Speak of the devil. Wow. Look at him.”

My heart stutters of its own accord, simply because I know
she’s talking about Henry. Taking a deep breath, I glance over my shoulder. Henry
strolls toward the lobby doors, flanked on either side by a rosy-cheeked
Roshana and a willowy blonde in a crimson dress, the two women staggering
slightly. His hands are settled on the smalls of their backs.

My stomach drops as I watch him step forward to hold the
door for them. The blonde passes through but Roshana stalls, turning to
brazenly grab hold of his belt buckle and pull him to her. He smiles down at
her, coaxing her through the entrance with a nod toward the covered path.

I watch them walk cozily along until they disappear from
view, heading toward the seclusion of their private cabins.

I don’t think he saw me, but I wonder if he’d even care.

“I guess he’s getting his freak on tonight. Not surprised,
given what I’ve heard about him,” Autumn jokes, oblivious to my anguish.

So I’m not the only one that sensed that’s where the
intimate touches and looks were heading.

It wasn’t bad enough that he screwed her last night. He’s
about to screw her again, tonight, along with another woman. And I have the
pleasure of knowing about it while it’s happening this time. No wonder he gave
me the morning off, again.

“Abbi? You okay?” Autumn frowns. You’re a little pale.”

“I haven’t been feeling well all day.”

She rubs my arm. “Go and get some sleep. We’ll party at the
lodge another night.”

“Sounds good.” All I want to do is put my pajamas on and
curl up in my blankets and wish this awful, sick feeling away. “See you later.”
I don’t hesitate, turning to dash toward the nearest exit.

“Oh, wait, Abbi. Let me get you an umbrella! It’s—”

Her voice disappears behind me as I push through the door
and into the cold rain.

Chapter Twelve

I’m shivering by the time I reach the path to my
cabin, the silky material of my dress clinging to my body, my face no doubt
streaked with black mascara, from the tears or the rain, it doesn’t matter.

Great
. It sounds like there’s a party going on
inside. That steady beat of music is going to be a problem. Then again, maybe
it’ll help drown out my sobs.

The moment I step inside the cabin, I know I won’t be
curling up or sleeping any time soon. The smell hits me first; booze, clean
sweat, and a muskiness that I now recognize as sex—arousal and slick bodies
grinding against each other.

I gasp in shock as I take in the sordid sight of strewn
clothes and tangled bodies.

Ronan is shirtless and standing with his back against Katie
and Rachel’s bunk. His jeans and boxers are pushed down his thighs and his
fingers are tangled through a kneeling Rachel’s bleach-blonde mane, his hands moving
in time with her bobbing head as she sucks him off. Rachel is completely naked.

As if that’s not enough, Katie is sprawled out on top of
pillows on the floor in front of me, her enormous fake breasts sitting
perfectly upright, her legs spread and her bare pussy on full display. At
least, I’m pretty sure it’s Katie. I can’t actually see her face given it’s
buried between Rachel’s legs, her fingers gripping Rachel’s hips as she tongues
her best friend’s slit.

My roommates are having a threesome in the middle of our
cabin, and they clearly don’t care who might walk in and see it.

Ronan’s hooded gaze meets mine but he makes no attempt to
stop Rachel, his lips parting with his ragged breaths. He even scoops her hair
off to one side to, I think, give me a better view of his erect cock, sliding
in and out of Rachel’s mouth.

I’m frozen, wanting to turn around and run, but unable to
move.

The music must have drowned out my entrance because Katie
and Rachel haven’t stopped, or covered themselves up. I would think they’d stop
out of respect, had they realized they were being watched.

Then again, they probably shouldn’t have started this here,
out of respect.

I’m still frozen, still telling myself to turn and run.

Still staring at them like a pervert.

Ronan’s heady gaze hasn’t left me, either, and he begins thrusting
his hips with each bob of Rachel’s head, his hands gripping her hair in tight
fists. He clearly enjoys having a spectator.

Rachel pulls away from him with a loud moan, her fist
wrapping around his erection to continue what her mouth isn’t doing, her free
hand stretching over Ronan’s firm, heaving chest, decorated in ink, as she
looks down at Katie between her legs. “God. Yes. Almost there. Yes!” Rachel’s
moans grow louder as Katie’s fingers disappear into her, and Rachel begins
grinding her hips. Moments later she cries out in ecstasy as she comes against
her friend’s tongue.

And I am
still
standing here, watching this!

Rachel aims her mouth for Ronan’s hard, protruding cock
again but he steps back, reaching for a foil packet that waits for him on the
bed, ripping the package with his teeth. “Turn around.”

He slides the condom on as she obeys, getting to her feet.

And that’s when she sees me, and Katie sees me, and both
their eyes flash with surprise.

“Abbi, I didn’t think you’d be back so—” Rachel begins, but Ronan
cuts her off.

“Don’t worry, she’s been here a while. She’s enjoying this.
Aren’t you, red?”

I can’t respond, because I don’t know.
Am I
enjoying
this? Is that why I haven’t bolted yet?

Ronan guides Rachel to her knees and, shoving his pants to
his ankles, he kneels behind her. With his hand on the back of Rachel’s neck,
he gently pushes her face between Katie’s thighs. And offers me a wry smile. “You’re
welcome to join.”

Rachel looks up at me once more, just as Ronan thrusts into
her from behind and the sheer ecstasy of it splays across her face.

The same look I saw in my own face yesterday, when Henry
thrust into me.

Henry.

My initial shock of walking into this debauchery has faded,
replaced by the raw realization that
this
must be what Henry is doing
with those two women right now.

It’s a gutting reality.

I turn and bolt out the door, down the slick path, fighting
my tears, no clue where I’m going. I can’t go to the lodge, or the hotel—not
the way I look right now. I run without aim, lost and alone and heartbroken.

Right into someone.

“I’m sorry!” I try to fumble past him, keeping my head down.

“Abbi?” He pulls his hood back to reveal his face.

“Michael?” Henry’s masseuse.

“What are you doing out here?” He pauses, frowns as he takes
in my face. “Are you okay?”

Three simple words. A simple question.  But for some reason
it crushes my resolve, and I break out in a fit of sobs.

Michael quickly wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me
into his broad chest. “Come on, let’s get you back to your cabin.”

I shake my head frantically. “Can’t.... My roommates.... Sex....
Ronan....” I can barely get the words out.

“Okay, okay. Shhh.... Come on. My place is just over there.
I can’t promise mine aren’t too, but they’re probably doing it somewhere else
right now.”

Cocooning me against his body, Michael leads me along the
path to a cabin on the opposite side of mine, swiping his key card to unlock
it.

The cabin’s empty.

I hear a soft “Thank God,” under his breath. He pushes the
door shut and leads me to the far wall. “Bottom bunk is mine. Here, let me get
you something. You’re shivering.” Michael rummages through a drawer while I do
my best to stifle my sobs. He hands me a plush white towel. “Just did laundry.”

I press it against my face to smell it, inhaling the scent
of the fabric softener. That’s always been a calming scent to me. Only when I
pull it away do I remember my face is streaked with makeup. “I’m so sorry!” I
cringe at the black marks I’ve already left.

He reaches over his head to yank his sweatshirt off, his
t-shirt lifting just high enough in the process to show me his stomach, the
ridges of his abs hard and defined, the trail of blond hair turning darker as
it disappears below the waistband of his black dress pants. “Don’t worry about
it. It’s just a towel. That’s what bleach is for.”

Still, I must look a disaster. “Do you mind if I use....” I
gesture toward the small powder room.

“Of course, go ahead. But I make no promises about what
shape it’s in. There are six guys and who knows how many girls using it.”

My eyes drift around the cabin at the strewn about clothes
and shoes, trashcans overflowing with candy wrappers, and the empty beer
bottles stacked next to them. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I don’t have much that will fit you, but you really should
get out of that dress before you get sick.” His eyes drift over my frame, and I
instinctively tug on the skirt, wet and clinging much higher on my thighs than
it should. Ducking his head, he rummages through the dresser again, pulling out
a t-shirt and boxers. “Best I can do, but it’ll be more comfortable.”

I collect them from his hands with a small “thank you,” and
make my way into the small powder room, trying to quell my shivers as I close
the door behind me.

A homely girl stares back at me from the mirror, her face
streaked, her hair clinging to her scalp, her eyes bloodshot, her teeth
chattering noisily.

The dim lighting in here sure doesn’t help.

Stripping down to nothing—everything is soaked right
through—I quickly towel myself off and wash my face with the bar of soap, doing
my best to ignore the condom wrappers that spill out over the trash can. At
least the makeup comes off easily enough, leaving me with a fresh, albeit puffy
face. My hair is an entirely different story. Nothing short of a hot shower and
conditioner is going to tame this mess, but I pull the elastic and pins out,
and finger-comb the tangles.

Thankfully it’s still just us when I emerge. Michael has
kicked off his shoes and socks, and changed into track pants, and is sitting on
the edge of his bed, resting his elbows on his knees. He’s turned on the small
reading light affixed to the side of the bunk to cast some light into the little
nook.

“A little bit better, at least?” He nods toward the clothes
I slipped on. The t-shirt reaches midthigh and I have to hold up the boxers to
keep them from slipping off.

My smile is weak, but genuine. “Yeah. Thanks. Do you have
somewhere I can hang this?” I hold up my wet things.

“Right behind you.” He’s on his feet and coming around to
help me, reaching over me to get the wire hanger off, the faint smell of soap
and cologne wafting from him. “We’ll hang it above the heater.”

I quickly hook my dress and undergarments. There’s no hope
for modesty with my panties and Katie’s bra dangling, but Michael doesn’t say
anything. I guess he’s learned how to be respectful of people’s
vulnerabilities, given his profession.

“You’re still shivering.”

I fold my arms over my chest, trying to still my body. “I’ll
be okay.”

“Get under my covers. That’ll help.”

I merely nod and comply. After the day I’ve had, I’m beyond
caring that I’m crawling into a guy’s bed. I pull the blankets up to my chin,
reveling in how safe and comfortable they feel.

“Do you mind?” Michael gestures toward the bed.

“Of course not. It’s your bed.”

He eases in beside me with a groan, forcing me close to the
wall to fit both of us. The bunks are wider than the ones I remember as a
child, but they definitely weren’t designed to sleep two grown adults
comfortably.

Silence hangs as he stares at the top of the bunk above us
and I stare at his profile. He’s really handsome in that high school sports-star
way. Short blond hair and a wide easy smile, framed by dimples, a jutting
Adam’s apple to define a long, thick neck. His jaw is coated with just the
slightest amount of blond stubble, which I’m sure will be shaved off before his
shift tomorrow.

If I weren’t so enthralled by Henry, Michael is the kind of
guy I would have noticed walking by. Probably would have watched shyly.

Henry....

I clear my throat, trying to dislodge the lump that’s flared
once again. “Where are your roommates?”

“A couple of them are working the night shift. The others
are probably partying in the lodge.” He turns to settle big blue eyes on me. “Is
whatever you walked in on in your cabin what made you so upset?”

I shake my head.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what I walked in on?” It was shocking, yes. It was
depraved, yet, if I’m being honest with myself, I wasn’t completely turned off
by it. Ronan’s naked form doesn’t elicit feelings of disgust, that’s for sure.

But that’s definitely not something I’m admitting to
Michael.

He chuckles. “I was in the lodge earlier, with Katie, Rachel,
and Ronan. The three of them left together after a bunch of drinks and I have a
pretty good idea about what you would have walked in on back there. So, no, not
that. Do you want to talk about what had you burst into tears like your heart’s
been broken?”

My heart
is
broken. Again. Because I’m a stupid farm
girl who can’t see things that are right in front of me.

I shake my head. I
can’t
talk about any of it,
because it would mean divulging details about Henry.

Michael heaves another sigh. “Okay, I understand. But if you
change your mind, I’m here to listen. And you can stay as long as you need to.”

“Thanks.” I offer him a weak smile as one of those ragged
post-sob sounds escapes from my lungs. This feels like the safest place for me
to be right now.

Voices flare just outside the window.

“Shit,” Michael mutters, reaching behind him to grab hold of
the privacy curtain. He has it drawn all the way around the bunk just as the
door opens to loud laughter.

“Dude, I wouldn’t last ten seconds with that girl’s lips
wrapped around my cock.”

I recognize that voice but I can’t place it.

“Like you’re gonna get a chance. She’s been polishing
Buckey’s knob every night for the last week. Bastard. They went into the tool
shed last night and she let him go bareback in her ass.”

“Lucky fucker. I need to find myself one of those. I’ve been
yankin’ it too hard lately, with all James’s pussy comin’ through here.”

Michael’s body tenses beside me. “Guys.... Watch it.”

“Yo.” One of them calls out, and a moment later. “Oh! Sorry.”

They must have seen my clothes hanging by the window. At
least they have the decency not to talk about women like that while one of them
is here.

There’s some whispering, and then feet shuffling, and then
the door opens and closes.

And we’re alone again.

Oh my God.
My cheeks flush with realization. They
left to give us privacy. They think we’re having sex.

Michael smiles apologetically. “Sorry about that. Miguel’s
got a foul mouth but he’s harmless.”

Miguel? “The line cook in the staff lodge?”

“Yeah. You know him?”

That’s where I’ve heard his voice before. “I met him on my
very first night here.” I smile. “Seems like so long ago.”

“The days here are long, aren’t they?”

I sigh. “The longest.”

Michael shifts to his side, propping his head up by an elbow.
“Here. Roll onto your stomach.”

“Why?”

I tense as he reaches over to prod the muscles in my back
with his strong fingers. “Because your muscles are tight. I can help with that.”

He once offered to give me a massage. I declined, all
because Henry asked me not to go anywhere near him. A tiny spark of anger
flares in the pit of my stomach. Henry doesn’t get to demand things like that.
Not anymore.