Wild Wolf Claiming. Rhyannon ByrdЧитать онлайн книгу.
hands on him,” he told her, “you drop and crawl away.”
“Are you fucking crazy? I swear I’ll shoot you, you stup—” was all the robber got out, before Elliot went into action. He was not only stronger than a human male, he was faster than one. It took him no more than a second to charge the asshole, knocking the gun out of his shaking hand and squeezing the wrist of the arm he’d wrapped around Skye so strongly he felt the bones crack. The asshole screamed as Elliot jerked his arm up with enough power that it dislocated his shoulder, allowing Skye to drop away from him and quickly crawl across the floor, exactly like Elliot had told her to do. Then he pulled back his free arm and knocked the bastard out with a single punch.
“Yes!” the older woman working the hostess’s station shouted, coming around the podium and kicking the junkie in his ribs with the pointed toe of her shoe. “And you stay down, you slimy jerk!”
All of a sudden, a great roar of cheers exploded across the diner, and Elliot found himself being hugged by one human after another. The mother of the family Skye had been waiting on even planted a kiss on his cheek before bursting into tears of relief that her children and husband were safe. It was a surreal moment, and all he wanted was to find Skye and get the hell out of there before someone called the cops and he ended up having to deal with the local PD.
He searched the crowd for her, worried when he couldn’t spot her, a raw sound on his lips when he finally caught sight of her coming through the swinging door that led to the kitchen. For a brief moment, he wondered what she’d been doing back there. Then he forgot all about the question as their gazes locked, the grateful look on her face making him feel like he’d just saved the friggin’ world.
He began making his way through the crush toward her, and she did the same. “Are you all right?” he asked, the moment they reached each other. The question felt heavy on his tongue, his arms aching with the need to pull her close and wrap her up tight against him. But he hadn’t earned the right to touch her yet, and he didn’t want to frighten her.
“I’m fine, thanks to you,” she said with a soft smile. “That...what you did...it was amazing.”
“You don’t need to thank me.” Not for protecting you, baby. It’s what I was born for. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” She stepped a little closer to him, the difference in their heights making her have to tilt her head back a bit to see his face. “I just... I can’t believe you came at him like that when he had a gun.”
“He wasn’t going to shoot anyone.” And if he had, Elliot would have survived the shot. As a Lycan, it was damn difficult to kill him with a bullet. “I was more worried about you. There was no way I was letting him keep his hands on you a second longer.”
She blinked up at him, and he thought, Because you’re mine, doing his best to appear like a normal guy so he didn’t scare the hell out of her. But inside, his wolf was seething with fury, prowling like a caged beast, with only one thought churning through its mind:
No matter what it takes, we protect what’s ours...
Skye Hewitt stared up at the gorgeous, dark-eyed stranger standing in front of her, and couldn’t help but remember how he’d called her “baby” when the robber had been using her as a human shield. She’d been so stunned by how hearing that word on his lips—in reference to her—had made her feel, she hadn’t been able to find the words to answer him to save her life. Literally. Lucky for her, though, he’d trusted her to do as he’d said anyway.
Now, with another one of those sexy, kind of crooked smiles that he’d given her earlier curving his lips, he shook off the visceral tension that seemed to be coiling around him, and said, “I guess we haven’t really been introduced yet, have we? I’m Elliot Connors.”
Elliot...mmm. The sexy name fit him, because...like, seriously. This guy was by far the sexiest freaking thing she’d ever seen. Tall and lean and muscled in that way that didn’t come from being a gym rat. No, this guy looked like a soldier. Someone who did brave, dangerous things for a living, and he had the body of a god to show for it.
It no doubt made her a hussy, but she couldn’t stop herself from imagining what he would look like without the black Henley, worn jeans and kick-ass black boots. Just thinking about him in the buff, with all that dark golden skin on display, stretched tight over rippling slabs of muscle and masculine cords of sinew, had her pulse roaring in her ears, while lust poured so thickly through her veins it was probably written all over her face.
Heck, from the way he was looking at her, it had to be. Because he definitely looked like he was trying to figure out what she was thinking.
Then she realized that he was still waiting for her full name, and she laughed as she shook her head at herself. “I’m Skye. Skye Hewitt.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Skye.”
“You, too, Elliot.”
He grinned in a way that had his dimple showing again, and she was pretty sure her ovaries spontaneously combusted. Holy freaking cow, was he hot. And nice. And, oh...not to mention brave as hell, going up against that guy the way he’d done. It was like he hadn’t even cared that the junkie had been pointing a gun at him. He’d only seemed to be worried about her, and that little fact was dangerously close to melting her into such a huge, embarrassing puddle of I’m crushing on him so bad and seriously want to have his babies it wasn’t even funny.
When she heard the sirens in the distance, she cleared her throat a little, just in case her voice came out all rough with lust, and told him, “I called the cops as soon as I got away from him. That’s what I was doing in the kitchen.”
She could have sworn she heard him mutter “Shit” under his breath, but when she looked up from his broad chest to his face again, he didn’t look angry or upset. She honestly didn’t know what to make of him, her emotions all in a jumble where he was concerned. Desire, gratitude, awe and no small amount of disbelief. The guy could have any freaking woman he wanted, and yet, he was looking at her as if he wanted to pull her into his powerful arms and kiss the ever-loving hell out of her.
“Come on,” he said, jerking his chin toward the door. “Let’s go outside and talk to them where it won’t be so loud.”
Skye went and grabbed her purse and coat from the break room, then had a quick chat with her manager. When she came back and joined Elliot near the booth where he’d been sitting before all the madness had started, she saw that he’d pulled on a black jacket that looked incredibly good on him. He gestured for her to take the lead, and she purposefully didn’t look at the jerk-off that was still passed out on the floor, a couple of the younger male customers keeping watch over him until the cops arrived. Elliot opened the door for her, then followed her outside, the chilly December air making her huddle deeper into her coat. They stood together on the sidewalk in front of one of the diner’s massive windows, and she was about to ask him what he was doing in town, curious about what had brought him to a place like Charity, his accent making it clear he wasn’t a local, when the first cop car pulled up in front of them, parking at the curb on the far side of the road.
This time, she was the one who muttered “Shit” when she caught sight of the stocky, good-looking policeman climbing out the passenger-side door. She blinked as he made his way toward them with an arrogant stride, hoping her vision might clear and the guy would suddenly morph into someone she didn’t want to kick in the balls every time she ran into him. But no such luck.
This cocky jerk wasn’t just a cop. No, coming straight toward them was one Officer Derek Carlton—her freaking ex-boyfriend from hell!
At that moment, Skye kind of wished there was a hole in the ground that could just conveniently swallow her up. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was talk to Derek, and especially not in front