Touched by Moonlight
Page 6
Grayson’s head, unlike Nicolas and Stephan, was bare. “What about you, big guy? Aren’t you wearing a helmet?”
“I have a hard head and only one helmet, meant for you, sweetheart.”
I shrugged. “Okay. But I want to go fast.”
“Hold on,” he warned. “You want fast, we’ll give you fast.”
Arms wrapped tight around Grayson, I hung on as he raced his bike north on the lonely stretch of road.
Nicolas and Stephan raced ahead, their speed dizzying. This time of year, fog and rain often slicked the interstate. Fortunately, tonight was clear, the stars out, and the way clear. Even the ever-present winds screeching across I-25 as we hit the stretch between Cheyenne and Colorado didn’t deter Grayson and his guys.
Too long it had been since I felt this wild and free. Laughing, I stretched out my arms, enjoying the feeling of flying through the air. Enjoying the feeling of near invincibility, as if no one could hurt me.
We stopped briefly at a rest stop after hitting Colorado. I climbed off the bike and rubbed my butt.
“You okay?” Grayson asked.
I watched Nicolas and Stephan pace the parking lot, as if looking for threats. “Fine. Can’t wait to get to that guest bed you promised.”
Grayson gave my knuckles a kiss. “It’s yours. And if I can convince you to sleep in my bed instead of the guest bed, I will.”
Sizzling heat shot down my spine. Grayson was a shifter who thrived on sex. Keeping him at arm’s length was going to be tough.
“I’m enjoying a different kind of lifestyle these days. It’s called celibacy.”
“Pity,” he murmured. “Pleasure is important.”
He leaned closer, his warm breath feathering over my cheek. “Giving and receiving. Once I coax you into my bed, you will never want to leave.”
“I’m not the type who lounges around in bed.”
“You will not be lounging, that I can assure you. We will be quite… busy. You may wish to stay much longer with us.”
Chuckling, Grayson licked my hand again. My lady parts clenched hard, imagining his cock inside me, sliding against warm, wet flesh.
“I do have a job I have to get back to,” I warned.
“You should quit your job, Sienna. Williams Marketing is known for trapping employees in low level jobs simply so they can make more money on their bottom line.”
Inwardly I drew in a breath, though I remained calm. “How did you know where I work?”
“I make it my business to know everything I can about a woman who interests me.”
“They have a word for that Grayson. It’s called stalking.”
“I’m a wolf. When I see a woman I want in my bed, I chase her. Get ready to run.”
“I can run fast. What gives with the chasing? The proper term is stalking.”
“In my world it’s called pursuit.” He cupped my cheek again. “And protection. Sienna, that isn’t a good place to work. You can find another job, one more suited to your talents and skills. You’re wasting away there.”
True enough, but pride prevented me from admitting it.
“Come work for me. Or one of the companies I helped start. I have connections and they could use someone with your intelligence.”
Curiosity overcame me. “What companies? What do you do for a living? Invest in motorcycles?”
He laughed, the sound smooth and dark. “No. Bikes are a hobby, and a necessity for speed when you want to get away from your enemies.”
Grayson waved a hand. “I have a venture capital firm that invests in start-up companies. Our debut fund is nearly $75 million. We financially back companies I can foresee as financial successes, and give them the capital they need to operate for the first year. I’m a co-founder and investor.”
“Sounds risky.”
“If you don’t know what you’re doing, it can be. But I have a little help from a witch friend who can predict business futures. When one of my start-ups is sold to the larger firms, like Google or eBay, that’s how I make the real money. Most of the work is done from my home office.”
I blinked. It was hard to believe a wolf shifter knew that much about the human business world. Then again, what dealings I had with that world were on the lower rungs of the corporate ladder. Safer that way. Less visibility.
“So you don’t actually run any companies of your own.”
“I am president of one I co-founded. Calmarth Clothing.”
I sucked in a shocked breath. Calmarth Clothing was an online clothing store based out of Denver that sold clothes at a discount. Easy returns and they kept your size on file for reorders. They also had a division called Calmarth Delights that discreetly sold naughty sex toys and undergarments and sexy clothing to consumers. The secret was in the packaging label that looked ordinary, so if your nosey neighbors peered at what was delivered to your front door, they’d think you’d purchased nothing more innocuous than a pretty dress instead of crotchless panties.
What really set aside the company was the work environment. Hipsters wanted to work there. It was more hip than Google. They had flex hours, sleep pods where you could grab an afternoon nap, and most of all, they didn’t demand more than 30 hours during the work week. Telecommuting was encouraged. Tech had made showing up at the office pointless, not when everyone could Skype.
It was a dream company.
My dreams were more practical. Survival.
I rubbed my arms. “Can we leave? Because I feel pretty exposed here.”
He nodded.
We took off again for the highway. When we reached Colorado and Belle Canyon Road we passed an abandoned campground off the two-lane highway. A sagging wood sign that clearly had seen better days read Happy Times Campground.
Sad times, more like it. A shiver raced down my spine. The place seemed haunted and sinister.
Less than a half mile later, we arrived at a picnic spot shaded by tall trees. Nicolas and Stephan pulled in first, and the engines shut off. But for the river, it was quiet. No one on this road at night.
Maybe the wolves kept it that way.
“It’s a good place to stop before we arrive at my home,” Grayson told me. “We picnic here sometimes.”
Pulling off the helmet, I dragged in a deep breath of cold, crisp mountain air. The road dissected two mountain ranges, with a raging river running alongside the north. Although it was June, a hint of spring lingered in the air. Aspen, oak and fir trees dotted the landscape.
Finally, I could relax and not worry about looking over my shoulder after that near-brush with death. Nicolas and Stephan stretched out beneath a tall maple tree. I joined them, sitting on the ground, drinking in the cool night air and the smell of fresh pine.
Grayson sat beside me, holding my hand. It felt nice. No pressure, just simply holding my hand. “You okay?” he asked quietly.
“I am now.” I took a deep breath. “It’s lovely here. How far is your home?”
“It’s very close,” Stephan interjected. “But we figured you would want a break, especially if you’re not used to riding.”
“Thanks.” I appreciated the thoughtfulness.
“Nick, see anyone following us?” Grayson asked.
Nicolas shook his head. “All clear from the state line.”
Raising my eyebrows, I sputtered. “Nick? You call him Nick?”
Grayson looked at Nicolas and then at me. “I’ve always called him Nick.”
Nicolas hooked his hands behind his head. “That’s right, sweetheart.”
Slightly confused I frowned. “Then why call him Nicolas around me?”
Grayson squeezed my hand. “Because I wanted you to do it on your own and feel comfortable with him, not call him that because of me. A name is special and quite personal.”
I glanced at Nicolas, who again, seemed to assess me. “You don’t mind me calling you Nick.”
“No. I don’t mind.”
“Just don’t call him Dick. Although he can be one at times,” S
tephan added.
“You’re the one who can be a dick, little brother,” Nicolas told him as Stephan growled.
Surprise filled me. Then again, it made sense – Nicolas’ protective manner, how he seemed to judge me each time I interacted with Stephan.
“You’re brothers?” Well, duh, obvious question. “With different last names?”
“Half-brothers,” Stephan said.
Nicolas slid an arm around Stephan. “Half or whole, we’re still brothers.”
My gaze snapped from one to the other. Sensing a story, I made a mental note to question them later. “So, if you’re Nick, does that mean I call Stephan Steve?”
“Stevie will do. Little Stevie is even better,” Nicolas deadpanned.
In the clear moonlight, Stephan’s expression looked horrified. “Fuck no. Do that and I’ll call you Dickhead Nick.”
“I like it,” Grayson decided. “Has a certain flair.”
I had to smile at their playful banter. “Stephan is more of a Stephan. But I might call you ‘Sonnie,” because Grayson is a mouthful.”
Stephan laughed and even Nicolas cracked a smile, while Grayson’s eyes went wide. Then he grinned.
“That’s right.” His wink this time was suggestive and sexy. “The ladies do say I am … a mouthful.”
I rolled my eyes as the guys laughed. But I appreciated the light-hearted mood after the grimness we’d experienced earlier.
Nicolas traced a line in the dirt. “You’ll be safe at our home, Sienna. Grayson takes extra care to insure all within our borders are protected.” He flicked out a hand, and claws emerged. “He has us as well and we fight rough.”
Good to know he was on my side. “Thanks, Nick.”
He gave me a level look. “It’s what Grayson and Stephan want.”
Interesting. And what do you want, Nick? I couldn’t read him.
Stephan waved a hand in the air. “Our place is safe as well from dark Fionn Fae. That Fionn Fae sure wanted you, Sienna.”
“You knew what it was?” I drew my hand away from Grayson.
“We all did,” Nicolas said, giving his brother a meaningful glance.
So much for relaxation. “Let’s forget about that. It’s a nice evening still. I’d rather not talk about what happened.”
“Then we won’t,” Stephan assured me.
My sore butt had enough of sitting. I stood, brushed off my pants and wandered over to the road.
“Where’s your home?” I called back to the guys, who joined me.
Grayson pointed west. “We have more than 100 acres of mountain and forest that way. Private, quiet and lets us roam free without human interference.”
“What is that campground we passed? Happy times?”
Grayson went preternaturally still, as if my question bothered him. “It’s been abandoned for years. I bought the campground to have the property deeded to me. Left it deserted.”
“I’m not talking about real estate transactions. I mean, what tragedy happened there? You can feel it.” I shivered.
His dark eyebrows arched. “You can? Even as we passed?”
Shrugging, I looked for an excuse. “Anyone can. Any sensitive human can.”
That sage look hinted he didn’t believe me. But for now, he seemed to let it pass. “It was once a vacation spot owned by humans. It lasted only one summer before it closed down. No human wanted to buy it because it seemed… haunted.”
He rubbed his hands on his jeans. “Hundreds of years ago, this land hosted a colony of dark Fionn Fae who turned to practicing evil. They’re long gone now.”
Seeing my expression, he hastened to add, “Oh, you’ll be safe at our home.” He leaned forward. “Don’t fret, Sienna. I’ll protect you.”
Right. I needed to know more about this campground. “Have any Fionn lived there since?”
He gave me a long, thoughtful look I could clearly see in the moon’s glow. “Lived there? No. Any Fionn Fae who did stay would realize the land has energy and use it like gasoline in a car to make themselves more powerful. I purchased the land to watch over it and keep them away. We patrol the campground once in a while to ensure it’s free from intruders.”
If power lurked in the campground, it was a wonder more Fionn didn’t stream here. Then again, my people don’t like shifters. Usually, they’ll go out of their way to avoid them, because shifters make formidable opponents.
My people prefer to leech power from less challenging sources. Unless there’s an easy way to get it, such as killing someone like me and siphoning it away as Kallan wished to do.
Grayson went to his bike, picked up a Camelbak strapped to his bike and drank. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Fionn Fae can control the weather. Not for long. The magick never lasts. Not unless they have enough magick and they’re not born with it.”
Some are.
He handed me his Camelbak. I drank deeply, glad I didn’t have any alcohol tonight. I needed to stay vigilant.
Though it was pitch black in the canyon, I could see Grayson’s slight smile as I drank. My eyesight, like his, has terrific night vision.
Uh oh. That was the smile of a wolf who sighted prey, and knew dinner was near. I handed him back the Camelbak.
“Just because I had a drink from your container doesn’t mean anything, big guy. I’m not Persephone.”
“Maybe,” he said softly. “But our rules are different, Sienna. Just as Hades set different rules for the underworld. In the end, he got what he wanted, and so will I.”
I didn’t like the thread of this conversation. I trusted him, but didn’t trust myself, not with this sexual need yammering at me. I wanted to rub against the saddle between my legs to ease the burning desire.
Or rub against something else equally soft and yet firm as steel. Like his cock.
Stop it!
“So you’re saying you identify as living in hell?” I quipped.
Instead of answering, he swung one muscled leg over the bike and stood. Grayson held out his hand. “Let’s walk. I want to show you the river.”
Common sense urged me to order him back on the bike to take me home. But common sense had been badly shaken by the dark Fae’s appearance at Crossroads. I needed to find out exactly what Grayson knew, and soon.
Yet the more time I spent with him, the more I risked my heart. I was damn lonely and I’d formed attachments. Grayson and his betas had anchored me to Cheyenne. They gave me something to eagerly anticipate on the weekends instead of work.
And now I walked with a wolf who could do more than merely provide me answers as to how Kallan could be defeated.
Grayson could strip away all my defenses as well, and find out all my secrets.
If I dropped my guard.
Chapter 8
We followed a dirt path leading to the river. Wind rustled branches on the fir and aspen trees. In the distance I heard an owl hoot.
Despite the cool evening, I didn’t feel a chill. Rather, heat pulsed inside me, the sexual heat of his nearness.
To my surprise, the river had a sandy bank, like a beach. Well-maintained, too.
Grayson shrugged out of his black leather jacket and placed it on the sandy bank, inviting me to sit. I did. If he wanted to be gallant, fine.
He dropped beside me and slid an arm around my shoulder. “Cold?”
“I’m all right.” But I didn’t move away.
“You’re shivering.”
“Not from the weather.” There, I admitted it.
“Don’t fear me, Sienna. I would never hurt you. I may be a werewolf with enormous strength, but I will be gentle with you.”
I arched my brows at him. “And I promise the same.”
He chuckled as his fingers gently massaged my arm. “There is much we need to discuss. Much I have to tell you. I want you to know everything.”
I decided to take a gamble. “Why do I feel like I’ve met you before?”
“Maybe you have.” Grayson skimmed his hand along my
arm, up to caress my cheek. “But know this, Sienna. I would never do anything to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable.”
And his lips upon my cheek were gentle. Maybe he meant it as reassurance, but the soft warmth of his mouth on my cold cheek inflamed my desire.
His lips felt like a down quilt, promising snuggling comfort. Suddenly I craved the heat, needed it badly, to feel his big body against mine. Grayson had a wolf’s aggression, testosterone rolling off him in waves. I could no more resist him now than I could touch the stars.
He slid a hand up my nape, caressing my hair. “One small kiss, Sienna. Only one kiss.”
Surely one kiss couldn’t hurt. I lifted my face to him and parted my lips.
Emotion, perhaps triumph, flared in his blue eyes.
Grayson’s mouth descended on mine before I could summon another thought. He cradled my head as he kissed me, hard and deep. Barely banked desire flared inside me, gasoline poured on smoldering coals.
Ah hell. I was going for it. I opened my mouth wider to his probing tongue and flicked my own tongue over his. He tasted like whiskey and darkest sin. Growling low, Grayson pulled me closer and crushed my mouth beneath his.
“I don’t want gentle,” I told him.
“Damnit, I wanted to wait for a bed.” He splayed his fingers across my chin, his thumb touching my lip. “I wanted to wait until we could truly talk. I can’t wait, Sienna. I’ve waited too fucking long.”
Cranked up from the fight, the brush with death, he looked feral, taut with sexual need. I felt the same. I had survived, and for the first time since I’d run away from my family and never looked back, I needed skin to skin contact.
Three years I’d denied myself. No longer.
“Screw the bed.” I fisted my hands in his shirt. “The ground will do.”
The night sky as our ceiling, starlight as a lamp, the damp sand beneath us as our bed.
His touch made me shiver with awareness. “Aren’t you wearing too many clothes?” he murmured.
I hadn’t been naked in the open in years, not since I’d abandoned my Fae heritage. But here, with the icy river water cooling the air and the damp earth beneath us, I felt confident I could control my powers. The earth grounded me.