The Wild Wolf Pup (Zoe's Rescue Zoo #9)

You are Satan’s Knight.

You are the devil’s disciple.

And there she is, that bitch of a maker.





Chapter Forty-Seven




Frustrated, I drop the pen onto the open textbook sitting on the coffee table and reach for the banana clip next to it. I twist my hair into a bun and clip it in place as the front door opens. I’m used to hearing Blackie’s bike pull onto the street minutes before he walks through the door but with him driving his truck I never know when he’s coming home. Not that I mind, I’m just happy he actually comes home.

Since the hospital discharged us he’s been out a lot, bouncing between the Dog Pound, my father’s house and wherever the rest of the brothers are temporarily staying. It’s only been a couple of days but my heart doesn’t know that and neither does my mind. I’m lonely, missing him and worried sick. It’s different being the girlfriend versus being the daughter. I love both men but it's different with Blackie, my love has no bounds; it completely consumes every fiber of my being. Without Leather there is no leather and lace.

He throws his leather jacket on a chair and steps into the living room. Silently he walks over and drops down onto the couch behind me, leaning forward to unclip my hair he watches it cascade down my back.

“Come here,” he says huskily as I turn to face him. Unfolding my legs from under me I crawl on my knees and move between his legs. He pushes his fingers through my hair as I angle my head and look up at him.

“Miss you, girl,” he murmurs as he continues to stare at me thoughtfully before his gaze wanders to the books behind me on the coffee table. “Do you have a test?”

“Finals are next week,” I say with a nod. “Since you haven’t been around much, I figured I’d get a jumpstart on studying.”

“You feel like taking a break?” He questions, turning his attention back to my face. He cocks his head to the side, the tip of his index finger travels down my neck to the buttons on the front of my shirt.

“Does that mean you’re taking a break?” I reply, watching as his fingers play with the first button of my shirt.

“Yeah,” he nods, dropping his fingers from my shirt and meeting my gaze again. His tongue slips out and wets his lower lip before both lift into a smirk. “Need a fix of my girl.”

The way he looks at me has the butterflies that have been dormant over the last few days taking flight, their wings flutter around inside me causing me to hang on his every word.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I need time away from this shit sitting on my shoulders,” he explains pulling me off the floor as he leans back against the couch and drags me onto his lap. Cradling my face with his hands, he runs the tip of his nose down the bridge of mine and stares into my eyes. “I need to be with you, had nothing specific in mind, whatever you want to do, we’ll do. I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go, girl.”

“Anything?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“I know that look, girl,” he sighs, pulling back, leaning his head against the pillows as I straddle his lap. “So damn pretty,” he hisses, shaking his head. “Yeah, anything you want,” he agrees finally.

I push the hair from his face and dip my head to press my lips against his. The groan that instantly escapes his mouth excites me and has me grinding my hips against him as his hands slide into the back pockets of my jeans and he arches off the couch and I feel his thick erection beneath me.

“Later,” I promise, taking his lower lip between my teeth. “All night,” I state, releasing his lip and untangling his hands from around me. I climb off his lap and give him one last glance, watching as he palms the bulge in his jeans and hangs his head miserably. He’s so fucking hot when he’s horny.

“Hurry up,” he grunts as I head for the stairs.

Ten minutes later I’m dressed in a pair of Victoria’s Secrets Pink yoga pants and a hoodie with a zipper up the front. I come bounding down the steps and Blackie is sitting on the couch where I left him, flipping through my textbook.

He lifts his head and narrows his eyes as he takes in my casual appearance.

“Keys,” I say, holding out my hand as I smile at him. He pushes off the couch and walks toward me, digging into his pocket and producing his key ring. I go to snatch them from his hand but he pulls back, wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me against him. His breath is hot on my ear, his scent intoxicating making me question why we’re even leaving the house.