Changed
The Wolf's Den - 2
by
Aline Hunter
Chapter One
“Just Rachel? Where are you? Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Rachel Gentry jumped in alarm and ripped her gaze from the oil filter she’d been in the process of replacing. Her heart thudded in her chest, beating in a frantic rhythm. She hated it when people bypassed her office and made their way to the back of the garage. Every single time it happened it scared her out of her wits.
She swallowed down her momentary shock and counted to ten.
This time the asshole visitor was someone she knew—his voice easily recognizable. Not to mention he was the only person to call her Just Rachel. She cursed herself for not giving him a last name the first time they’d met, telling him she was, “Just Rachel” when she’d gone to his tattoo shop in search of her friend on day. He’d never forgotten and made sure to address her as such each time they saw each other.
She’d known he’d probably show up when she least expected it. He seemed to enjoy taking her off guard. Mr. Tall, Dark and Arrogant told her he’d keep coming back just yesterday, even though she’d told him to leave and not come back. The aggravating man danced to the beat of his own drum. She’d learned that the first time they met.
Declan Schroder. Damn him.
He did what he wanted, when he wanted. She could argue with him until she was blue in the face but it wouldn’t matter. Once he’d made up his mind about something the decision was set in stone. Point of fact, he’d been coming to her shop every afternoon for the last two weeks. At first he’d introduced himself—something he hadn’t bothered doing the first time they’d met. He’d been cordial—sticky sweet, even—until she’d asked him why he’d paid her a visit.
The atmosphere had changed in that moment, the air almost electric around them. He didn’t answer right away, frowning as he tried to think of what to say. It took him a minute to get going but once he did she got the picture.
Clearly.
Since her best friend Chloe had recently joined his crew, Declan indicated he wanted to make a peace offering. He’d tried to take Rachel to dinner, saying he wanted to get to know her better since she was family now. But she’d known that had been bullshit man-code. What he really wanted was to take her to home, fuck her silly and put another notch on his bedpost. She’d seen him sizing her up, his gaze raking over her from head to toe. She might as well have been naked.
He had no shame whatsoever.
Up until then she hadn’t thought he was that stupid.
There wasn’t an easy way to reject his offer. For one, Chloe had asked Rachel to give her new friends a chance. So being a bitch was off the table. Besides, Rachel wasn’t accustomed to dating. Generally she didn’t fall into the parameters of what society deemed attractive. It wasn’t that she was heinous. With her light skin, red hair and blue eyes she thought she wasn’t totally hideous. Sadly most men found her profession all kinds of wrong for a woman. They wanted flirty and sexy. Not dirty from working on engines all day in work boots, jeans and stained T-shirts. The men who had expressed an interest in the past had either been missing teeth or wanted a one-night deal, so it had been easy to tell them to fuck off.
She’d politely told Declan no, explaining that while she appreciated the offer it wasn’t a good idea to get friendly. Then he’d done something she hadn’t expected. He’d grinned and proceeded to tease her, calling her “fraidy cat”. She hadn’t understood his behavior. He’d seemed frustrated. Certainly she’d snubbed the man but it shouldn’t have bothered him. He was sexy as sin and could have any woman he wanted. Maybe it was the thrill of the hunt that had captivated him? Perhaps he’d found pleasure in stalking her day after day?
He is a werewolf after all.
For an instant her dream from the night before came rushing back, the images vivid and arousing. He’d captured her before she could bolt, holding her tight as he’d eased her to the ground. She braced for what would come next, her entire body tense. She could see the wolf inside him, could almost feel it trembling beneath Declan’s skin. His face had come so close to hers, their noses nearly touching. She’d closed her eyes, shaking as she’d waited to see what he had in store.
Then her phone had started blaring, yanking her out of the dream. Pissed and a little horny, she’d answered the call. She shouldn’t have been surprised that it had been her mother on the other end of the line—drunk and in a sour mood. Without so much as a hello her mother had started bitching about Chloe, informing her she needed to end the friendship, telling Rachel horror stories about werewolves.
She hadn’t been surprised.
Since she could walk her disgrace of a parent had told her stories of little girls who went missing and were found with their head, arms and legs missing. Her mother claimed they’d been hunted down like animals and eaten, torn limb from limb. The macabre tales had terrified her then and terrified her now. She’d listened quietly, letting her mother have her say. What she’d wanted to do was go back to sleep, wishing she could escape the hell that was her life.
If only Dad hadn’t died. Things would have been so different.
“Just Rachel,” Declan drawled. “Here I come.”
You’re not sleeping anymore, dumbass. Her gaze darted to the side. This is real. Pay attention.
Thinking fast, she tried to decide what to do. It didn’t matter where she hid. Declan would find her. It was a part of his nature, his instincts paving the way. He could hear each beat of her heart, was able to identify her emotions by smell. Right now he’d probably locked on to her scent. In a couple of seconds he’d be right beside her, his presence so powerful she’d stare and gawk at him like a preteen who was tempted to take him out for a test drive.
Something shuffled a few feet away. Shit.
Declan moved silently but she could feel him inching closer.
She wasn’t sure if she could turn him away this time. The past few days he’d broken her down, getting beneath her skin. Each of their encounters had become more intense, the battle of wills swinging from her advantage to his. Just yesterday—after she’d politely told him to go play hide and fuck himself—he’d backed her to a wall and caged her in his arms. Heat had radiated from his body, his brown irises shifting to a vibrant gold. He’d worn a black T-shirt, flaunting the impressive tattoos that started at his wrists and wound up his arms. The ink somehow complemented his tan complexion and added to his potent charm.
There’d been nowhere to run or hide.
He’d lowered his head to kiss her, his breath whispering across her lips. She’d thought about running but he seemed to know what she’d been thinking. His hand came down, fingers snaking around the fragile bones of her hip. He hadn’t been willing to let her go, that much had been evident. Butterflies had erupted in the pit of her stomach. Her pussy had clasped, creating a rush of wetness in her between her legs. Her breasts had swelled, the lace of her bra chafing her puckered nipples.
Declan not only looked like pure sin, he practically oozed sexuality. She could see the devil under the surface, ready to burn her with a touch. She’d known then that the real thing would be so much better than her vibrator and fantasies. He was capable of doing things to her she’d only dreamed about. Her pulse had amplified in her head, her entire body going hot. She’d been willing to tread into dangerous waters for the first time, curious about what he’d do next.