Turning Payne

by Chantel Seabrook

  "I keep seeing his face," she whispered, her voice muffled. "In the shadows. When I close my eyes. Here in this room."

  Gently, he placed her feet on the ground, keeping her snug against his body. "It's over now."

  "Is it?" She looked up at him, her eyes haunted, her hands fisted at his chest. "Will it ever be over?"

  He breathed in deeply and shook his head. As long as she was connected to him, he knew for her it never would be over—not for her. His chest tightened as the truth hit him. How could she look at him and not see her father's blood on her hands, her sister's suffering? He was a constant reminder of everything she'd lost.

  He sighed and pressed his lips against the top of her head. "I don't know."

  "I just want to forget."

  That was one thing he could help her do. At least for a short time. "Kiss me, Riley."

  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a desperate grip, holding onto him as if her life depended on it. Something inside him snapped. A deep, primitive need to protect her, to be everything for her.

  Her suffering became his own. Her needs the only thing that mattered.

  She lifted her chin, expectantly.

  He lowered his lips to hers, running his hands up her back. Her mouth opened for his tongue, and he groaned as the taste of her filled his senses. She arched against him and met his kiss with a desperation that sent lust ripping at his loins. Her hands threaded through his hair and she rolled her hips against him. It had been too long since he'd touched her, and he gritted his teeth, struggling for control. If he wasn't careful he'd have her clothes off and be inside of her before they made it to his bedroom.

  The pulsating vein on her neck called to him, begged him to bite it, to mark her and make her his. He ran his thumb along the delicate skin. His animal paced, pushing him to take what he wanted.

  "I want you," he growled against her swollen lips.

  She whimpered in response, but he knew she didn't understand the extent to how much he desired her, needed her. He could make her understand. One bite and the mating hormones would spread through her system, making her crave him as much as he hungered for her.

  He wouldn't do that to her. Not until she truly understood what it meant to be marked, to be mated. He'd let her walk away before forcing that life sentence on her. Once the bond was created, there was nothing that could break it, no matter how much she wished it.

  "Turner." His name was gentle on her lips, begging him for more.

  Her arousal was strong, but it was only a hormonal response. For the first time in his life, he craved something else, something more. Something he wasn't sure Riley was willing to give him.

  He pulled back and studied her. A soft smile played on her lips as she gazed up at him. An array of emotions swirled behind her green eyes—uncertainty, desire, sadness, hope. Whether he sensed it or saw it, he didn't know. He only knew that the woman gripped a piece of his soul and made him long for things he hadn't known he wanted.

  He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to mark her, the instinctive growl inside his chest that demanded all of her.

  Her fingers inched down his chest, and played with the hem of his shirt. He knew what she wanted, what she was too timid to ask for. For a few hours, he could make her forget, make the past week disappear, and reality not hurt so much.

  "Make love to me," she whispered, her face flushed.

  "There's nothing I want more." He kissed the tip of her nose, and scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to the bathroom. "But first, we both need a shower."

  He turned on the heavy stream of water and took his time undressing her, studying every inch of her perfect body. There were dark bruises on her arms and legs. He knelt before her as he removed her pants. He cupped her injured ankle in his hands and bowed his head to run his lips over the swelling.

  "I could make this feel better," he mumbled, more to himself than to her. The mating hormone would heal all of her injuries, but that wasn't a reason to mark her.

  "You already have," she said, smiling down at him. The water cascaded down her breasts and over her stomach, making her body glisten. "Everything feels better when you're touching me."

  He growled, anticipation making his cock twitch and his balls hot and heavy. He nipped and licked her inner thigh, trailing his tongue and lips along the sensitive flesh, making her gasp in pleasure.

  Her legs were shaking when his tongue trailed over the sensitive nub, making her cry out. Her fingers tangled in his hair. She shuddered against him, his tongue working until she was on the brink of losing all control. She cried out his name, and he gripped her hips as he thrust his tongue deeper, savouring the sweet taste of her orgasm.

  He held her steady when her body sagged against him, and stood, discarding his own, wet clothes in the corner of the shower.

  Riley leaned against him, her eyes closed, her breath still uneven. Turner pumped shampoo into his palm and began scrubbing her scalp, using the foamy soap to scrub the dirt and soot off their bodies. When they were clean, he dried them off and carried her naked body to his bedroom.

  He pushed the damp, auburn curls away from her face and lowered her on his bed. She stared up at him, her gaze languorous and filled with desire. Fuck, she was beautiful. He took her lips with a groan, the overwhelming need to mark her, dimmed only by the urge to possess her body and soul.

  "Mine," he growled, as his teeth raked over her neck.

  Yours. The single word pushed into his brain. He didn't know if she'd meant to project the thought, but the unspoken word sent a thrill of hope down his spine.

  She was where she belonged—in his bed, locked in his embrace, his mouth worshipping every lush curve of her body.

  He moved between her thighs and groaned as her slick, sweet flesh encased the crest of his thick cock. She stretched around him, allowing him to penetrate deeper. Her thighs opened for him, her hips arching, her moans pleading for more.

  Her nipples were hard, stiff, aching for him to touch them. His lips covered one, while he palmed her other breast, stroking the tip with his thumb. She was breathing hard, heavy. He nipped gently on her breast and surged deeper inside of her. She cried out, throwing her head back, eyes closed in ecstasy as he stroked deeper until he filled her completely.

  He went still above her, his muscles tightly knotted in his back. He could feel the inferno building, making his balls tighten beneath his cock. She arched beneath him, and he nipped her chin, then licked it playfully.

  She moved her hips, her body begging for more. Turner fought for control. He wanted to prolong the act, but he could feel his body ready to betray him.

  Her fingernails dug into his hips, his back. He pulled out slowly, so that only the engorged crest of his cock filled her. She moaned as if in pain, and he thrust back, deeper than he'd been before. Her mouth parted and he pressed his lips against hers, catching the cry of pleasure that tore from her throat.

  "Don't hold back," she pleaded.

  She clenched tight around him as he thrust inside her again. Shards of sensations tore through him. His gaze caught hers as he pumped harder, faster. Her face was flushed with desire, her eyes hooded.

  He could sense her release. Her pleasure wrapped around his senses like a drug, as if he was connected to her more than just physically, but mentally, spiritually. His canines elongated and he could taste the sweet mating hormone flooding his mouth.

  He pressed his mouth against her ear, and growled, "You don't know how much I want to mark you right now."

  Her eyes widened, and she bit her bottom lip. An unnamed emotion flickered across her expression. She stared up at him, and he pumped harder, replacing the look of uncertainty with moans of pleasure. He drove into her, fast and furious, until she was breathless, pleading for release.

  He felt the first waves of her orgasm, wrapping around his cock and tearing over his senses.

  "Mark me," she cried out, pulling his head down, her eyes pleading, as her release ripped through h
er. "Make me yours."

  Turner lost all control. He snarled, and his teeth sunk into her delicate flesh as an eruption of white-hot heat pierced through him. He moaned low and ragged, the pleasure too much, the taste of her intoxicating. He exploded within her, each pulse of his release matched by her own small spasms.

  For what seemed like an eternity, he lost the ability to breath, to think. He was wrapped in the cocoon of her arms, and nothing else mattered. He licked over the mark on her neck. Whether she understood it or not, she was his.

  Chapter 25

  Riley stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and touched the mark on her neck. What had she allowed him to do? Her body trembled with uncertainty. Everything that had happened in the past week seemed like a blur when he was holding her, kissing her. There was nowhere else she'd rather be than in his arms.

  She ran her fingers over her arms. The bruises and scrapes were gone and her ankle no longer hurt when she put her full weight on it. And she was more than a bit freaked out. Not that anything should surprise her anymore, but for some reason it did.

  "You okay?" Turner asked, his voice muffled on the other side of the door.

  She breathed out heavily and fought the urge to let him in. His presence tugged on her like a magnet. Every nerve in her body cried out for his touch. "I just need a few minutes."

  Her senses were sharpened, and she could actually feel Turner's presence, knew when he walked away and in what direction. She felt his frustration, his growing panic the longer she stayed hidden in the bathroom. She wanted to be back, curled up in Turner's bed, his arms wrapped around her, but she couldn't control the cold fingers of anxiety that crept up her chest and into her throat.

  She straightened her shoulders. If she could survive the past week, she could handle whatever this mating thing was. Opening the bathroom door, she took a deep breath and walked down the hall, his presence calling to her, as if an invisible cord connected them.

  He was standing in the living room, his back turned, staring blindly out the large windows at the city below. He'd wore a pair of grey sweats that hung low on his waist, but his back was exposed, displaying tightly coiled muscles. Damn, how was she supposed to concentrate when he looked like that?

  "You really should put a shirt on," she sighed, rubbing her arms as she came to stand beside him.

  He gave her a lopsided grin and tugged on the oversized t-shirt she wore. "My shirt is currently occupied."

  She smiled at his attempt to lighten the mood, even though she could see the uncertainty in his eyes, and the strain in his face. She looked out the window and let out a shaky breath.

  He pushed the hair off her shoulders and rubbed his thumb over the tender wound on her neck. "You want to talk about this?"

  She turned into him, unable to resist his touch. "You marked me."

  "You asked me to," he said softly, cupping her cheek and running his thumb along her bottom lip, making her shiver.

  She'd more than asked, she'd begged. Even now, with a single touch, he affected her in ways that sent her whole system into chaos.

  She looked down at the floor. "My bruises are gone," she said, her hands instinctively resting just above the waistband of his jogging pants, fingers tingling at the sensation of his skin. Her breathing roughened, her arousal beginning to grow. Where the hell was her self-control? She dropped her hands. "My ankle doesn't hurt anymore, either."

  He dropped his hand and let her move away. "It's the mating hormone. The first time it enters your system it does something to your metabolism. Speeds up the healing process." He shrugged. "I don't really understand how it works. Chase could explain it better."

  She wondered what other changes were happening inside her body. "And this connection that we have, the way I can hear your thoughts, that's part of it?"

  "Not usually." He picked up a glass of amber liquid from the side table and took a long swallow. "I've never heard of a human mate having that ability before, especially not before they've been marked."

  "My grandfather was a metamorph. Maybe that has something to do with it."

  He stared into his drink, frowning. "Maybe."

  "So what happens now?"

  He scrubbed his hand over his jaw, then put the glass down and turned back to her, his gaze steady. "You'll move in with me."

  "Whoa." She was fine with staying with him while her sister was being treated, but after that? "That's a little fast, don't you think?"

  He took two long strides towards her, and pulled her towards him possessively. "You're my mate. You belong with me, here."

  Nervous awareness sizzled along her skin. She glanced away for a second before looking back at him. "What if I don't want to move in with you?"

  His whole body tensed. "That's not an option."

  Riley didn't like where the conversation was going. "Says who?"

  The knot in his jaw jumped and his eyes narrowed. "Says me. You're mine now–"

  "Yours?" A mix of emotions stirred inside her. The thrill of being claimed and possessed went against everything she believed in. She shook her head fiercely. "I'm not something to be owned."

  "That's not what I meant." He took her hand and placed it on his chest over his heart. "I'm just as much yours as you are mine. We're mated now. There's no walking away from it."

  "That's ridiculous. Your mother left your father and—"

  "And it killed him," he snapped, silver eyes blazing.

  Riley blinked up at him. "You can't be serious. He committed suicide, it was his choice—"

  "Because he still believed she was alive. He went insane with grief. He fought his animal and it went feral, destroyed him from the inside out. He loved her, yes, but it was more than that. Once you're mated, your souls are tethered to each other. Losing her broke him."

  Heavy silence filled the space between them.

  She pushed on his chest, trying to free herself from his steel-like grip. "So you're saying that if one of us walks away, we'll go crazy?"

  Turner dropped his hands heavily beside him and stared at her, his expression furious, as if by asking the question she had somehow betrayed him

  She swallowed hard, hating the pain she saw in his eyes, knowing she put it there. "I just want to know it works."

  "You're human." His tone was cold, clipped. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jogging pants and turned back to the window. "You can leave whenever you want."

  She felt the walls building between them, but she needed to know more. "I don't understand. You said—"

  A growl rumbled from his chest. "I was talking about metamorph mates. You're human," he stated harshly. White teeth flashed dangerously. "You'd feel the tug to come back. The physical desire to be with me, but it's nothing you couldn't handle. It's the animal within a metamorph that makes it impossible to walk away." He inclined his head mockingly. "Is that what you want, Riley? To walk away?"

  He'd twisted her words. Of course, she didn't want to walk away. She wanted him, but she had her sister, her job, a life. Could she go back to those things after everything that had happened?

  "Everything's happened so fast," she said quietly. "I just need time to think."

  His cell phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket, cursing when he read the text. He grunted, and drained the last of his drink, slamming the glass on the table when he was done. "Take all the time you need."

  He disappeared down the hall and returned a few minutes later, fully dressed.

  "You're leaving?" she cursed, the desperation heard in her own voice.

  He stomped across the room, his jaw clenched, every line of his body radiating frustration. Riley's breath caught in her throat as his hands gripped her head, and his mouth lowered towards hers.

  He didn't kiss her, he devoured her. When he finally tore his lips away, they were both breathless. He pressed a rough kiss on her forehead.

  "I'm needed at the agency." He untangled his fingers from her hair, and let his hands slide slowly dow
n her arms. "I'll ask Lora to come by and keep you company if I'm not back by tomorrow."

  She saw the quick sliver of fear that swirled in his eyes and knew he was keeping something from her. "Is everything okay?"

  He gave her a forced smile, and walked towards the elevator. "It will be."

  Chapter 26

  Turner stormed into the medical facility where Chase and Jacob waited for him, their expressions grim. They stood in the operating theater, looking down through the windows at the young woman on the table. Surgical lights illuminated her frail form, exposing the multiple tubes and wires inserted and strapped to her body.

  "What the fuck happened?" Turner snapped.

  "Where's Riley?" Chase's voice was clipped, disapproving, as if he already knew the answer.

  "At my place. She doesn't need to see this."

  Jacob cocked an eyebrow at Chase in a I-told-you-so manner.

  Chase cursed, his brows drawn down in a frown "She needs to be here. We don't know how much longer Kiera has. If she doesn't make it—"

  "We're not losing her," Turner growled.

  "She's flatlined twice already," Jacob said evenly.

  "Why the fuck didn't you call me sooner?" Turner scraped his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. There had to be a way to save her.

  "Everything was destroyed in the explosion," Jacob said, staring down at the woman on the table, his back to Turner and Chase. He placed his palms on the sill and leaned forward. "We're working with Kiera's blood samples to see if we can locate a specific substance that she was injected with, but so far we haven't found anything other than metamorph DNA."

  "My DNA," Turner muttered.

  Jacob nodded, turning back to the other men. "Most likely from the transfusions."

  "Boyd mentioned something about bone marrow and blood plasma. Maybe there's something there."

  Jacob glanced at Chase and both men frowned.

  "What?" Turner demanded, when he saw the apprehension that tightened the lines around his brother's eyes.

  Chase shook his head and looked away.