“Oh!” Natalie jumped back. Maybe the guy from before hadn’t gone anywhere? Maybe he’d been waiting outside for her the entire time and now she was taking too long?
Maybe he just wanted to wash his hands like she fussed at him about?
She couldn’t bring herself to see him face to face again. She didn’t want to be in a position where she was cornered again. No way was she going to open the door to anyone except Declan.
“Natalie?” Declan’s voice on the other side of the door made her all but moan in relief. She unlocked the door and wrenched it open.
“Thank God.”
He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
She grabbed hold of his shirt and jerked him into the bathroom with her. Once he was inside, she checked the hallway, saw nothing, and then closed the door.
“What happened?” he asked in hushed tones once she locked the door and turned back around to face him.
Natalie took a few deep breaths before leaning against the counter. She didn’t know how to phrase what was bothering her. She put her face in her hands, trying to gather her thoughts. His hand was light on her arm as he waited for her to get it together.
After a second, she dropped her hands and said, “I ran into a man. He asked me if I was yours and told me I didn’t smell like yours. That I smelled like I hadn’t—” she gulped and forced out the words, “—been with anyone in a long time. Is that true? Can you smell that?”
Declan dragged a palm through his hair. "I can smell a lot of things on you, but I can't tell how long it's been since you slept with someone. Who was it?"
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him before.”
“Well, what did he look like?”
"Big like you. Around our age. His hair is shaved on the sides, and he has a beard."
“Blond?”
She nodded. “Yeah and when he lifted his arm up, I saw tattoos.”
Declan cursed softly. “That was Jackson. Jackson Vastag.”
Now that was a name she knew. “Seriously?” Declan was nodding. “Would he be able to smell something like that?”
“Yeah, he has a keen nose.”
Well, crap. Irritation was growing in her chest. “People think we’re sleeping together. That’s what we want them to think, right? You jumped in bed with me this morning to keep up appearances!”
“Keep your voice down,” he warned. “Whether or not we’re sleeping together is no one’s business but ours.”
His defensiveness of their relationship brought her up short. Was he protective of this fake thing between them? And, if so, why? Carefully, she asked, "You don't think people are gonna be curious about why not?"
She could see the conflict on his face. He turned, avoiding her eyes, bracing both of his hands on the wall and staring at the wallpaper as if attempting to memorize the royal blue swirls.
Of course, their lack of a sexual relationship would raise suspicion. Of course, people would want to know what kind of relationship they really had. Between their appearance at Slugger’s last night and the reception tonight, their relationship, and Natalie herself, were garnering a lot of curiosity and raising a lot of eyebrows. What she and Declan had wasn't banned outright, but they were definitely testing the line.
Or at least that’s what the consensus seemed to be.
Thank God no one realized the real reason she and Declan were in Boston. She didn't think either one of them would survive that, not after meeting so many of these people. Their contempt for some of the factions was palpable, but their fear of humans overshadowed even that. She listened to people talk over the past few hours about nosy humans, the slayer threat, with some even going so far as to vocalize their hatred outright.
What Jackson suggested had knocked her feet out from under her. It made everything real. The danger. Her fear. Even her blossoming feelings for the werewolf in front of her who was now wearing a pained expression that was twisting her gut.
“Fix this, Declan. Fix it,” she challenged.
He shook his head, his head hanging between his arms. Natalie waited, unsure of what to do or say now. Uncertain of what he was going to do. Would he insist they leave? After the longest minute of her life, Declan stood up straight and ran his hand over his face. "Turn around."
Natalie turned, putting her back to him. He approached her, and she watched his face in the mirror and met his eyes.
“Fear is just rolling off you,” he said on a sigh, “and I don’t like feeling as if I caused it.”
Her hands were trembling and her voice soft when she said, "You did and didn't, but when you touch me, it all falls away."
He placed his hands gently on her shoulders. His touch was feather light, but she could feel his tension. Declan was wound tight. "This is a bad idea." His voice was a low whisper; his breath tickled the nape of her neck.
Electricity shot down her spine. Natalie caught and held her breath as he stroked over her upper back and down to her hips. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest, and her sex clenched almost painfully. It was impossible to tear her gaze away from his. Declan was observing her carefully as if trying to gauge whether or not she was comfortable with his hands on her.
Oh, if only he knew. Last night would’ve been the preferred time for him to touch her, and not in some small bathroom in the Council House, but even now, she wanted him. What was it about his werewolf self that lured her in and made her heart pound as if she were some over-excited teenage virgin who was making out with her first boyfriend?
"You smell fucking delicious," he groaned, his eyelids heavy. One heavy hand smoothed over her ass and down the top of her thigh to the hemline of her dress. His hand inched the fabric up and wrapped his arm around her until the only thing separating her sex from his palm was the thin material of her panties.
Scorching heat radiated from his hand as he cupped her. There was a light pressure between her shoulder blades and then she was bending over, her upper body pressed against the cold counter. He stroked her through her panties until she was biting her lip to hold back a long moan. If he didn't stop playing with her soon, she was going to lose her mind.
“Your panties are soaking wet.” He nudged her knees apart with his thigh, keeping her gaze pinned in the mirror. “Nat, are you sure—”
"Yes!" A low moan tore from her throat when he stroked her clit through the thin fabric.
Declan sucked in a harsh breath before promising, “I’ll change your scent.”
She was all but begging him for more. For some sort of relief for this all-consuming want burning through her. With a flick of his hand, he pushed her panties to the side and slid one finger inside of her.
Oh, the pressure was overpowering. One digit became two as he stretched her. He moved rhythmically inside of her until she was all but bucking against his hand, wanting more. Needing more. When he pulled his hand from her for a fraction of a second, she groaned in both frustration and excitement.
There was no telltale zip of his pants like she so desperately wanted to hear. Instead, he amped her up by pressing the heel of his hand against her clit until she was quietly pleading with him. Never in her life had she wanted a man this damn bad.
“Please…” she begged.
Declan leaned over her, curling around her body. His erection dug into her ass. "Come on my hand." The way he said it, so fucking gritty and determined, she knew it wasn't an option. When another moan – much louder than the others – tore from her, Declan clamped a firm hand over her mouth. She took a deep breath through her nose when he kept it in place.
He kept his eyes on her face in the mirror, one hand muffling her sounds while the other worked her into a frenzy. Thick fingers moved inside of her and his palm elicited enough friction to start a damn fire. The pressure was building rapidly inside her. She was about to shatter.
His massive hard-on was digging into her. With each thrust of his fingers, he ground against her more. She wasn't the only one affected by what he was doing. His chest vi
brated against her back, a low, constant rumble coming from deep inside him.
Small, biting kisses rained over her neck and shoulders. Natalie clutched the edge of the counter, her fingernails threatening to break on the hard surface. As if sensing how close she was, Declan quickened his pace just enough to send her spiraling over the edge. She exploded, her internal muscles pulsing around his fingers.
“Fuck yeah, Nat,” he growled against her shoulder, “that’s it.”
She was still reveling in the aftershocks when Declan pulled his hand away from her. His eyes held hers in the mirror as he sucked her juices off his fingers, one slow slide at a time. Never had she seen anything so hot. And the way his blue eyes darkened at the taste of her as if it was the best thing he ever put into his mouth.
Natalie whimpered.
Even though she just came, she was anxious to have him buried inside of her. She pushed her hips against him, bumping against him to get his attention. Slowly, he slid his hand from her mouth, and she couldn't help but nip at his fingertip. The curve of his smile turned her already weak knees to jelly.
He didn’t push his pants out of the way and thrust into her like she hoped. Instead, he coated his fingers with his saliva before dragging them through her folds. He repeated this twice more before taking a step back and putting some air between them.
More embarrassed than she was willing to admit, Natalie pushed herself to stand and quickly yanked down the bottom of her dress in a desperate attempt to regain her composure. Why had he stopped? She knew he was turned on, there was no denying that on his part, but he hadn't sought his own release. Her face burned.
As if seeing her discomfort, Declan put his hand on her cheek and urged her to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Shaking her head, she said, “I just…I thought…”
“I’m not fucking you in a bathroom. This—” he gestured between their bodies, “—shouldn’t have happened.”
Natalie felt as if she'd been slapped. Her stomach rolled, and she took a step back, pulling her face away from his hand. "Well, it did."
Declan sighed, and his nostrils flared. "At least you have my scent on you, and you smell…satisfied."
She figured she smelled pissed the hell off, but apparently, Declan didn't have the best nose in the world.
Natalie moved out of the way when he washed his hands and fixed the loose tendrils of hair that escaped the clip. This was not the time or place to give him a piece of her mind. She’d save that for later when they were away from the Council House.
At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to be a few hundred miles away. Preferably with her sister in North Carolina and away from the chaos in Boston and Maine. Away from Declan's stinging rejection.
Nikki and their mother always repeated the same little tidbit of advice while she was growing up: keep it together. And that's what Natalie had to do. She had to hold herself together. They were here for a reason, and she couldn't afford to let her guard down.
Especially not with the werewolf who was now looking at her with regret in his eyes.
Natalie was quiet from the time they left the bathroom, throughout the rest of the dull reception, and all through the car ride back to the apartment. He thought perhaps she regretted what transpired between them. He didn't know, and he didn't want to ask her, afraid of what her answer would be.
He could smell himself on her, still taste her, and it was doing things to him. His hard-on hadn't gone away since he touched her, but he refused to fuck her in the bathroom. Hell, no. Natalie deserved much more than that. She deserved a hell of a lot more than what had happened between them at the Council House.
It shouldn't even be on his mind. Having sex with a human should be entirely off limits, but now he couldn't stop thinking about it. Couldn't stop thinking about her, not that she would ever be someone he could forget.
Guilt weighed heavy on his shoulders. He should have done something to keep her out of the situation she found herself in with Jackson. Shit, he hadn't even thought about whether or not she smelled like sex as long as they spent enough time near each other.
They were going to have to talk about what happened. He was going to have to lay down boundaries to keep the physical side of their relationship from escalating because, to be honest, the fact that he wanted her with such ferocity scared the living shit out of him.
He still didn’t know how to broach the subject. Didn’t know what he wanted and needed to say, so he allowed her to fall deeper and deeper into silence and close herself off from him.
They pulled up to the garage. Declan hesitated and remained sitting in the still-running vehicle as he tried to get his thoughts together. Natalie was looking at him, and he dragged a hand over his face in an attempt to rid himself of her sweet, sweet scent that was still torturing the living hell out of him.
“Natalie, I—”
The rough knocking on the passenger window cut off his train of thought. Natalie jumped in her seat and swung her head around. Hannah stood outside her window, tears streaming down her face, her bottom lip trembling.
What the hell?
Declan jumped from the truck just as Natalie was pushing open her door. “What’s wrong?”
Hannah ignored him and threw her arms around Natalie. “I have to talk to you,” he heard his sister sob into Natalie’s shoulder as he came around the front of the SUV. “It’s about…about Red.”
He had to give Natalie credit. She stood still, allowed the too-tight hug that Hannah was demanding, and was whispering soothing words to his sister. He’d never seen Hannah so emotional before or so open with anyone, especially someone who was mostly a stranger to her.
Fucking Red Bowinger. Declan wanted to kill him. Already he was growling without meaning to. If Red's behavior outside Slugger’s the other night told him anything, it was that he didn't deserve a girl like his sister. Hannah was young. She was still immature about a lot of things, especially men. Declan got the not-so-subtle impression Red had chewed her up and spit her out like the self-important asshole he was.
"Come on," Natalie was saying, untangling Hannah from her. "Let's go inside, and we'll talk. We'll fix this."
Hannah nodded and quickly wiped away the tears soaking her cheeks. In his rush to see what was going on, Declan left the keys in the ignition. While Natalie and his sister made their way to the door, he grabbed the keys and met them there to unlock it. As soon as they were in the kitchen and Hannah was sitting at the table, he snarled, "Explain."
Lord help Red Bowinger if he hurt Hannah. Lord help any person – male or female – if they hurt his sister.
Hannah erupted into a fit of tears and Natalie was glaring at him. The little human had her arms across her chest, and she shook her head. "Not helping."
Declan threw his arms up in the air. “What the hell am I supposed to think? She’s a fucking mess!”
“All the growling and yelling ain’t gonna help anyone, Declan. Chill. Out.”
Did she really just tell him to chill out? He stood up straight, unsure what to say. Or do. With a low growl, he retreated into the living room and slumped on the couch. He could still hear everything the women would say, but maybe Natalie was right. Perhaps he needed to remove himself.
If she thought she could handle this situation with Hannah, he’d let her. Meanwhile, he would sit on the couch in the dark living room and dream up all the different ways he could murder that prick and try to keep himself from storming out of the apartment to go find him.
8
One steaming hot cup of tea was sitting on the table in front of Hannah. Natalie bustled around the tiny kitchen and made it for her for a few different reasons. First, she wanted Hannah to take a few minutes to compose herself after Declan’s snarling threw her into another crying fit so that Natalie would actually be able to understand what the girl was saying. Second, she needed to take a few deep breaths herself to get her own head on straight.
Declan was still in the liv
ing room, on the couch. He wasn't going anywhere. He wanted to know what was going on with Hannah and there would be no real privacy here. At least his snarling and growling had lessened somewhat. It wouldn't be right kicking him out of his own apartment, but she wasn't above doing it.
Natalie sat down at the table across from Hannah, took a deep breath and said, “Okay. Tell me.”
“I don’t know where to start.” Hannah wrapped her hands around the mug and stared down into it.
“Start at the beginning.”
A slow nod and then Hannah said, "I ran into him after we went out to eat. I met up with Allie who is a friend of mine and also a shifter. We were at this house party, just hanging out." She shrugged. "You know the deal. Anyway, he showed up after we were there for an hour. He pulled me aside and was just full of apologies. Said he felt bad about what happened at Slugger’s and all that."
When Hannah hesitated, Natalie asked, “What did you say?”
“I told him I forgave him. We went for a drive and ended up screwing in his car.”
There was a long, drawn-out rumble coming from the living room. Natalie ignored it. “He was the date you were telling me about at lunch? The one you were supposed to have tonight?”
Hannah nodded. "Yeah. I mean, everything was all good. We had a good night. He was acting like he was sincere. All nice and everything and apologetic. Then I get this text this afternoon…" She pulled her cellphone out of the pocket of her jeans, scrolled through it, and then pushed it across the table.
Natalie picked up the phone to read the conversation.
Red: Still on for tonite?
Hannah: Yep. Excited to see you.
Red: Me 2 babe.
Natalie scrolled down, noting the times. The first messages were sent just after lunch.
Hannah: Hey! Got us a table.
Twenty minutes later. Hannah: U still coming?
Fifteen minutes later. Hannah: …
Red: Hey I’m not coming.
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