by Rose Wulf
Not that it mattered anymore. What mattered was they’d made it home, caught up with his brothers, and were now recanting the morning’s incident in the comfort of Nate’s expansive living room. With the situation now resolved, none of them had had the heart to bother Angela or their parents so early in the morning.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything else?” Missy Price, Madison’s mom and Nate’s sole tenant, asked for the third time as she handed Dean a small plate with some buttery toast.
“Mama,” Madison cut in deliberately from the kitchen, “let him breathe. Go sit down.”
Dean grinned faintly and promised, “This is fine, thanks.”
As Missy relented and moved to claim an open seat, Blake turned his attention outward and asked, “You’re sure you’re okay? Nate said it was a hell of a storm.”
“It was,” Nate insisted from the corner seat where he was fairly sprawled out. “Those damn clouds were laced with lightning.”
“It was a bad storm,” Dean agreed, inclining his head. He took a bite of his toast, chased it with some coffee, and added, “But most of the lightning wasn’t close enough to counter the fires it was sparking.”
“The fires they were drowning in hail and sleet,” Logan added calmly.
Dean cut a pointed look to the larger man sitting beside him and reiterated, “The point is, I’m fine. We both are.” Beside him, Arianna silently nodded her agreement.
Madison bustled into the room, a plate full of steaming scrambled eggs, golden hash browns, and sizzling bacon in her hands. As she handed the plate—and silverware—to her exhausted fiancé she glanced back at Dean and Arianna to say, “I’d be happy to make you something if you’ve changed your minds.”
Dean lifted the plate, now down one slice of toast, and said, “This is plenty.”
“I’m not hungry,” Arianna echoed with a smile.
“Now who’s hovering?” Missy teased.
Madison rolled her eyes, straightened, and turned back to the kitchen as she replied, “I just thought I’d make sure before I close down the kitchen.”
“So,” Nate began around a mouthful of potato, “when you say you burned Jacob, what do you mean exactly?”
Dean sighed and leaned back into the couch, lowering his coffee to his lap. He felt most guilty where Nate was concerned. Nate had transformed and hauled ass to make it out to the interstate in time to help them. It was why he was so exhausted now. But he’d been just a few minutes too late. Dean and Arianna had been climbing back into the car when Nate landed. And only then had it occurred to Dean he might have forgotten to explain to Ari that they tended to rematerialize naked after full transformations. Good thing I keep spare jeans in the trunk. Reorienting himself, Dean replied, “I mean I caught him head-on with a solid blast. Sent him flying. Son of a bitch is probably gonna be out of it for a while.” He cringed, cut a sideways glance toward Missy, and mumbled, “Uh, sorry.”
Missy scoffed at him and said nothing.
“That reminds me,” Arianna declared suddenly, earning Dean’s—and likely everyone else’s—attention. “I think I dropped my stun-gun in the forest.”
Lips twitching, Dean reached for his last piece of toast and said, “I’ll buy you a new one.”
“Dean,” Blake called after a second, regaining his brother’s attention. His expression was somber, as usual, when he asked, “Are you going to tell Angela?”
Even Nate seemed to pause, raising his head from his plate, as the tension in the room shifted. They’d all noticed the distance between Dean and their sister, it seemed. No one had actually brought it up until now.
Sighing, Dean deposited his plate onto the coffee table and frowned into what remained of his coffee. “I don’t know,” he replied at length. “I’ll tell Mom and Dad. Chances are she’ll hear it from them.”
Arianna shifted beside him and her tone was curious when she said, “I’m confused. Why wouldn’t you tell her?”
Grinding his teeth, Dean admitted, “We’re not exactly talking. And by that, I mean she’s deliberately ignoring me. Doesn’t return my messages and goes out of her way to leave the room if I happen to walk in.”
“Why?” Arianna asked, obviously mystified.
“They had another argument,” Logan offered. “After he was attacked last week. We’ve all been trying to get her to talk to him, and she keeps coming back with the same argument.”
“Which is?”
“If I don’t know why she’s upset already then clearly we’ll never be able to fix it,” Dean paraphrased, not a small trace of bitterness on his tongue. What the hell kind of explanation is that, anyway?
Arianna placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she offered softly.
He looked over at her and managed a smile, though he wasn’t entirely sure what to say. Instead he opted to chug the rest of his coffee before looking around at the gathered group again and saying, “I’ll call in a couple hours. Meanwhile, Ari still needs to unpack.” He focused in on Nate as Nate swallowed another bite of his late breakfast and added, “Thanks, Nate.”
Grinning, Nate offered Dean a thumbs up and said, “Don’t mention it.”
Blake and Brooke walked Dean and Arianna out to the Camaro, reiterating how glad they were that everything had turned out all right. Brooke pulled Arianna into a short hug and added, “Welcome home, by the way.” Dean doubted Ari had seen it coming much more than he had, and he felt his lips twitch at the gesture. He was sure Arianna would appreciate the sentiment, especially coming from someone she wasn’t quite as close to.
Blake clapped Dean on the shoulder and then Dean and Arianna climbed back into his car. By rights, they should already have gotten her as settled as she was going to get for the time being, and he wanted to do what he could to put their day back on track. Best laid plans, right? So he threw the Camaro into reverse, all the while wondering—now that he had another moment to think on it—what Arianna intended to do. She needed a place to live, at least temporarily, and he doubted her roommate had secured two rooms at wherever she was staying. He hoped Ari would opt to stay with him. He could admit that much to himself. He just wasn’t sure how to vocalize that to her.
****
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Arianna scowled at the question and lifted her hands to frame Dean’s jaw. “I should be asking you that. You’re the one who nearly got struck by lightning.” Honestly, she’d barely been in any danger. Especially compared to him. She opened her mouth to remind him just how badly he’d scared her, but he cut her off.
“I’m fine, Ari,” he said, his voice a little rougher than before. He threaded his hands into her hair and tugged her up to his lips. “Promise.”
Tears stung her eyes for a moment and Arianna pressed herself against him. “Show me,” she whispered against his lips. “Reassure me.” Maybe that was her problem. Maybe she couldn’t be convinced with mere words. Or maybe the roller coaster of emotions she’d been riding for the last week was finally catching up to her. Regardless, losing herself in Dean’s arms seemed like the best answer.
He didn’t require further persuasion. His arms came around her properly, his mouth sealed over hers, and heat swept through her at the first stroke of his tongue. He took hold of her ass with one hand when she sucked on his exploring appendage, grinding his hips into hers. She moaned, released her grip on his hair and the back of his neck, and slid her hands down his sides. He rumbled and broke from her lips, trailing wet kisses along her jaw, toward her throat. Arianna tilted her head to give him better access as her fingers finally settled over his belt.
She made short work of the belt while he licked and sucked along her skin, her body humming with desire. “Dean,” she gasped as he reached the hollow of her throat. She finally finished undoing the denim around his waist and slipped her hand around his straining erection. He groaned, cursing against her skin, and she began stroking him.
When he lifted his head, mumbling her name, she us
ed her free hand to guide him back until he was up against the back of the couch. She might have asked him to “show” her, but first, she was going to demonstrate her gratitude for his survival.
“Ari,” he said with a grunt as she flashed him a grin and dropped to her knees. She glimpsed his hands landing on the frame of the sofa, bracing, before focusing her attention on his cock.
Sliding her hand to his base, she leaned forward and pressed her tongue along the tip. Dean groaned. Arianna rolled her tongue around, licking the length of him, taking her time. Only once he was slick with her saliva did she part her lips and bring him into her mouth. Slowly. Dean cursed again, his voice tight, and she swirled her tongue around his erection once more. She gave a squeeze and a short, teasing pump of the hand still wrapped around his base before letting go in order to take him deeper.
Arianna closed her eyes once he was fully in her mouth. She splayed her hands on his thighs from outside his jeans, teased what she could reach with the tip of her tongue, and sucked. When she felt him tense beneath her, a guttural groan rumbling up his chest, she eased off on the pressure and receded a bit. Enough to enable more licking. Then she took him deep again, and she repeated this pattern with intermittent intensity until Dean released the couch and buried one hand in her hair. He didn’t actually try to guide her movements, but his obvious need to touch her, combined with the sexy-as-hell sounds he was making, assured her it was time.
She flattened her tongue and took his cock entirely into her mouth again, and this time when she sucked, she sucked hard. She hollowed her cheeks, dug her nails a little into his thighs, and let herself moan for effect. Dean grunted, loud, and with a single shallow thrust of his hips he finally exploded down her throat.
When his grip on her lessened, she eased back, trailing her tongue along him until he slid from her mouth. She licked her lips as she looked up at him, finding his chest still heaving and unmistakable need burning in his blue eyes.
“So,” he finally said, “that’s how this is gonna go, huh?”
She smirked at him. “Yeah.”
He hauled her off the floor, and off her feet, without further warning and spun them around until hers was the back pinned to the sofa. With his lips beside her ear he murmured, “It’s my turn.”
Chapter Seventeen
Arianna was starting to wish she hadn’t taken Blake up on his offer to cover her shift for the day. She’d thought she would appreciate the time to unwind without the weight of responsibility, but now she was thinking there really was such a thing as too much free time. It hadn’t occurred to her that Dean might have to work and she’d be alone in his apartment. But of course the firehouse was still short-staffed and couldn’t give him two days off in a row. So she sat curled into the corner of Dean’s couch, her laptop on the coffee table and her chin on the heel of her palm. It was Sunday, just past noon, and she couldn’t even decide what she wanted to do for lunch.
Her mind wandered back to the previous day, riding the roller coaster backwards and then forward again. Saturday had had such drastic highs and lows that anything in between barely registered. She’d finally gotten home, reunited with Dean, and she’d mostly been able to spend the day the way she’d wanted—with Dean. They’d eaten out twice and a lot of the in-between had been spent in each other’s arms. Even with the contrast of the terrifying confrontation with Eric and Jacob, she couldn’t say the entire day was bad. And for as odd as that combination was, it was hardly what she was obsessing over. What had her all tangled up and confused was what she’d learned during the chaos.
Her heart insisted that she loved him, and her brain insisted that was the only real explanation for how she’d reacted the day before. Still, she couldn’t help but hesitate. She’d never been in love before—she’d made a point, for years, of not letting herself get especially close to anyone. She didn’t know what it felt like. Only, she sort of thought maybe she did. It wasn’t like she’d never witnessed love, or experienced other kinds of love. So, then, if she really was in love with Dean, the question became—how did she feel about that? Love was scary, overwhelming, exciting, and dangerous all at once. And she was more than ready for the high points of that kind of relationship. That kind of happiness and contentment was something she’d craved for at least since she’d lost her brother.
But … was she ready for the risks? Loving someone—really loving someone—meant there was the chance her world could be shattered all over again. Considering the circumstances in Dean’s life at the moment, that chance seemed unfairly large. Eric could choose to ambush Dean that very afternoon, and if his aim was true—or Dean was too distracted—it could all be over. She knew too well how quickly someone’s life could be ripped from them.
It had only taken seconds for Gianni to go from laughing to gone. As long as she lived she would never forget that afternoon, or the look on her brother’s face as he registered the gunshots. They hadn’t been able to look away from each other. Blood had begun trickling from his mouth at about the time tears started streaming down her face. He hadn’t stumbled, and he’d barely started to lift his hand to his chest. He just fell, at an awkward enough angle to settle on his back, still bleeding and eyes wide open.
Arianna wasn’t sure she could endure such a deep loss twice in her lifetime.
Hesitant knocking sounded at the door, startling Arianna out of her reflection and drying the tears in her eyes before they could fall. She pulled in a breath, steadying herself, and pushed to her feet. Dean hadn’t said he was expecting anyone, and she certainly wasn’t, but there were people who knew where she was and she wouldn’t put it above Georgia to drop by without calling first. Still, she wasn’t stupid, either, so she put her eye to the peephole before taking hold of the doorknob.
Curiosity became her dominant reaction and she tugged the door open with a small, easy smile. “Hey,” she greeted.
On the other side of the threshold Angela Hawke blinked, clearly caught off-guard by Arianna’s presence, and shifted her weight as she returned the smile and the greeting. One hand fidgeting with the strap of her purse, she carefully asked, “Um, is Dean home? His Camaro’s not here, but I thought maybe he just parked around the corner…”
Arianna could see where Angela might have suspected that, since her Mustang was currently taking up residence in Dean’s designated space. Extra parking near the apartment was scarce, and currently full. “Sorry,” she offered, “he’s at work.” She paused, knowing Angela’s unannounced visit was important, and heard herself speaking before she’d consciously decided to. “Why don’t you come in? I was just about to order a pizza for lunch.” Apparently.
Angela relaxed a little, released her purse strap, and her smile broadened. “Pizza would be awesome, if you’re sure it’s okay.”
“Of course it’s okay,” Arianna insisted, stepping back to the let the younger woman in. “What kind do you like?”
“I’m not too picky,” Angela replied as she slipped inside and started toward Dean’s couch. “No anchovies or white sauce, though.”
“Pepperoni and pineapple?” Arianna asked, trailing after Angela and lifting her phone from her pocket.
Angela grinned up at her as she claimed a corner. “Absolutely.”
Arianna called the local pizza place while she moved some of her things to be more accommodating to her guest, and as soon as the pizza was ordered she reclaimed her seat and twisted to the side in order to face Angela. “Twenty-five to forty minutes,” she repeated with a grin.
“Thanks,” Angela said, shifting and resting her purse on the floor.
A silence settled between them, and Arianna suspected Angela had an idea where she was about to go. But Angela didn’t say anything, so Arianna pressed on, making sure to keep her voice gentle. “Angela,” she began carefully, “I know this isn’t so much my place, but could I give you some advice? Younger sister to younger sister?”
Angela swallowed visibly and her gaze fell to the floor. “I guess you h
eard we’ve been arguing, then,” she mumbled. There wasn’t any surprise in her voice.
“I did,” Arianna replied with a nod. She refrained from pointing out that she’d witnessed some of their arguing in person. She wasn’t trying to initiate a confrontation. “And I know this situation is overwhelming, and incredibly frightening. I don’t think anyone’s blaming you for being upset.”
“Dean is,” Angela cut in. Her words were short, but her tone lacked any venom. She didn’t make an effort to look away from the floor.
“No,” Arianna said plainly. “Dean’s not mad at you for being upset. Dean’s confused. He doesn’t feel like he understands the problem between you. And if I know he has a temper, I probably don’t have to explain that to you.”
Angela’s lips twitched, though she tried to hide it, and she drew a breath. Her fists curled in her lap before she finally looked up, declaring, “But he should know what the problem is. I’ve been telling him from the start!”
Arianna inclined her head. “Maybe repeating yourself isn’t the way to go.” She paused, a thought striking her, and added, “Why don’t you explain it to me? Start at the beginning and just tell me how you’re feeling. Maybe I can give you a new perspective, or at least some insight.”
Angela pulled her lip between her teeth for a second, so Arianna kept quiet and let her mull the suggestion over. At length, Angela slumped a little into the couch and said, “It’s not just Dean. It’s everyone. Ever since I nearly got struck by lightning earlier this year, when we first realized we were being targeted, the whole family’s been hard to deal with. Dean’s just … he’s more vocal about it, I guess.” She lifted frustrated, teary eyes back to Arianna’s. “They’re obsessed about the danger I’m in, like they think I haven’t thought of that, but they’re practically ignoring the danger the rest of them are in. I’m not an idiot. I know what happened to Mom when she wasn’t much older than me. I don’t want to live through that.”