Midnight Dare

by Laurel Cremant

  Janet was aroused. More than aroused, she was desperate for sex.

  Her gaze flew to Marcus and her lips curled up into a sneer.

  Mine.

  Clenching her hands around her fork, she struggled not to leap up and claw her hands down the horny attendant's throat.

  "Just water please Janet," he said not taking his eyes away from hers.

  Janet filled their glasses with trembling hands and made a quick exit.

  "Been busy?"

  He took a drink from his cup and picked up his utensils.

  "Insanely."

  "I didn't think you were the cheerleader type."

  "I'm not," he said cutting into his food.

  "I go more for the tall, dark and sadistic."

  She dropped her fork down with a clang.

  "Really? Then why is that woman walking around smelling like she's in a middle of a wet dream?"

  He raised his brow at her.

  "That's an interesting way of putting it."

  She growled low in her throat.

  "If you wanted to play around with your staff—"

  He grinned at her.

  Okay bad choice of words.

  She picked up a small potato chunk and threw it at his head. Ducking to the side he laughed.

  "I meant if you were going to play around with Janet, have the damn decency to wait till we get home."

  She spoke the lie without blinking an eye. She didn't want him touching Janet—ever. The thought of his hands on the small blonde woman made her want to scream.

  "Relax Princess, I haven't laid a hand on her," he said.

  Staring into his eyes, her muscles relaxed at the sincerity she saw there. Picking her fork back up, she shrugged her shoulders, pretending nonchalance.

  "It doesn't matter."

  Her eyes narrowed at his snort.

  "Of course."

  "It doesn't," she said, taking a bite of her food.

  The chicken that had smelled so good a few moments before felt like rubber in her mouth.

  They ate the rest of their meal in silence. She tensed when he leaned over and pushed the call button.

  Janet bustled in, looking just as flustered and aroused as she did before.

  What is up with this chick?

  She stared hard as the woman cleared away the food and pushed the table back into the wall. Georgia watched for any lingering glance or touch, but there was nothing. Whatever, was causing Janet's reaction, it had nothing to do with Marcus.

  Picking up a newspaper, Marcus crossed his ankle over knee and began to read.

  "Aren't you at all curious about what's wrong with her," she asked.

  "Oh I already know."

  Flipping the paper down for a moment he looked down at his watch.

  "And in about a minute or so, you'll figure it out as well," he said before turning back to the paper.

  "What—"

  She heard it then. A low grunt followed by a moan coming from the front of the cabin.

  Heat prickled up her neck at the sounds.

  "She's not—"

  "With the captain."

  "Oh God."

  "Indeed."

  "This isn't exactly professional of them."

  "Very true."

  "Well aren't you going to do something?"

  Dropping the paper down to the seat next to him he looked at her with mocking eyes.

  "I think they deserve a little relief."

  "Well that's real progressive of you."

  "It's not their fault."

  "It sounds to me like they're making some pretty active decision making."

  "Jealous? Are you feeling left out? Come over here and I'll make sure you don't feel neglected."

  Her fingers clenched hard around the soft leather arm of the chair. A small bead of sweat formed at the base of her throat, beginning a slow glide down her throat.

  The smell of the couple's arousal drifted through the cabin, flaring her heat back in full force.

  "You know that's not what I want."

  "I know what you want."

  "I seriously doubt that."

  He titled his head to the side and inhaled deeply. She kept her breathing shallow, trying hard to block out the sounds coming from the cockpit, cursing her shifter the increased ability to hear.

  "It must be an intoxicating feeling, knowing that your scent is enough to throw complete strangers into lust."

  She remained silent, refusing to respond to him.

  This is what I get for poking the tiger, or in this case wolf.

  "Nothing to say? How refreshing."

  "I should have known that you had a cruel streak," she said.

  "You're one to talk. You started this."

  "No I think you started it the moment you decided to interrupt my fun last night."

  "I don't consider it an interruption, more of an enhancement."

  "I'm surprised the plane hasn't crashed under the weight of your ego."

  His loud sigh, filled the cabin, temporarily distracting her from the soft sighs and ragged breaths coming from the front of the plane.

  "This is a closed air system Gigi. The pheromones from your cycle have been bombarding the crew for hours. Your little show of retaliation earlier made it worse. I'm surprised they had the sense to wait till we landed."

  Her eyes opened and widened as his words sank in. She knew that humans were extra sensitive to pheromones, but she hadn't considered what being on a plane would do.

  "Fuck."

  "Not yet, but give them a minute. I believe they're getting to that."

  "Don't be an ass."

  "I can't help it. You bring out the best in me," he said grinning at her like a loon.

  "Can't you make them stop?"

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  "They either get it out of their system now or we risk the pilot not focusing in the air. I'd rather have a satisfied pilot than a distracted one."

  Shit. He had a point.

  A gasp drifted through the air, followed by a muffled groan.

  This is not happening.

  She reached for her seat belt and snapped it open.

  "I'm going for a walk," she said.

  "We're on a tarmac, Gigi. I doubt airport security will be okay with you taking a stroll down the strip."

  A growl worked its way up her throat.

  "I'm not staying here."

  "Afraid, you can't handle it?"

  She firmed her lips at his words.

  "I don't scare easily," she said settling back in her seat and crossing her legs. She bit back a moan of her own as the action, stimulated her already sensitized clit.

  "Unlike you I don't get my rocks off, listening to other people get off," she said ignoring the smirk on his face.

  "Really?"

  He clicked open his seat belt and leaned forth, clasping the arms of her chair and caging her in.

  His spicy scent filled her nostrils, pulling her down deeper into the haze of lust she was struggling to be free of.

  "Listen to them," he whispered.

  She stared at him unable to look away.

  "The rough slide of his hand grabbing her thigh," he said placing a hand on her knee and squeezing.

  She could hear it. The soft caress of the man's hand gliding up the woman's skin, the rustling sound of clothing being shifted and discarded.

  "Imagine how they must be feeling, their breaths hitching, skin burning with the need to touch."

  His fingers moved up her leg, lingering as if in no hurry.

  "You can stop it with the manipulation," she said, wincing when the words came out in a distinct pant.

  He grasped her thigh and pulled her to him, transferring her from the soft leather seat to his hard lap.

  She clutched at the lapels of his shirt, knowing she should pull away but unable to force her limbs to obey. Instead her knees settled on either side of his legs. Locking her muscles, she somehow managed not to grind herself against him.
<
br />   "You're developing a bad habit of manhandling," she said.

  He lifted his hands in surrender.

  "I have only the noblest of intentions."

  "Yeah right."

  He tilted his head in acknowledgment.

  "Perhaps there are a few benefits for me."

  "I'm sure."

  He shifted beneath her, and she whimpered at the brush of his erection against her inner thigh. Layers of clothing separated them but she feel the heat of him like a brand on her skin.

  "Let me help you."

  "By letting you help yourself? I don't think so."

  The corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

  "I told you last night that I have no intention of taking advantage. When I have you it will be after you ask me nicely. Actually begging would be preferable."

  "You're delusional."

  "And right now you're desperate. I can smell it on you."

  He dipped his head, grazing his nose along her collarbone. She gasped at the contact and clenched her fists tighter.

  "Listen," he whispered.

  She heard it then, the sound of a rasping tongue licking and sucking. Her breathing sped up and her nipples tightened with need.

  "Oh God."

  "He's sucking her breasts, and by the sound of her groans, doing it quite well."

  "Yes."

  "How long do you think until they can't take anymore," he asked licking his way up her neck.

  The distinct rasp of a zipper lowering filled the air.

  "Ahh there it is."

  He placed his hands on her hips and yanked her down onto his lap. With a groan she tightened her thighs, grinding down on his cock.

  "Shhh. You don't want to miss the best part," he said.

  Squeezing her eyes shut she focused on listening. Her body way passed the point of no return. It begged for release and clouded her mind with the charging need for relief.

  Then she heard it—the wet slide of flesh against flesh. A shudder, thundered down her body, her pussy clenching with need.

  Marcus placed his a hand at the base of her back.

  "Ride me," he whispered in her ear.

  They both moaned when she began to rock her hips against him.

  He lifted his head and captured her face in his palms.

  "Look at me."

  Shaking her head she concentrated on the feel of his hard length beneath her and the hot, wet sounds coming from the front of the plane. She couldn't look at him, couldn't let him see.

  "You'd prefer a kiss instead?"

  Her eyes popped open at that threat. She firmed her lips against her instinct to reply yes. Her eyes watered at that truth. She wanted his mouth against hers, his tongue plunging deep, imprinting his taste on her senses.

  "Look at me."

  And she did, rocking her hips faster and letting his diamond gaze lock on hers.

  He was just as effected as she was. A dark blush stained his stubbly cheeks, and his light eyes almost disappeared behind dilated pupils. Arousal was the great equalizer between them.

  Her clit thrummed steadily with each passing second, and she felt the corresponding bulge of his cock between her thighs.

  Her breaths were coming out in heaving pants. Every part of her was on fire.

  In that moment she admitted one simple truth. Regardless of her goal of removing Marcus from her life, she wanted him. Staring into his eyes she acknowledged that she wanted him to take her over and demonstrate exactly what their bodies were made for.

  Mine. Mine. Mate.

  "I've got you baby. Just let go."

  His whispered words broke her. Clutching him, leaned down and pressed her lips against his and fell apart, her body shattering in release and her heart trembling in absolute fear.

  ***

  She didn't know how many minutes had ticked by before she regained her senses. One moment she was floating in the glow of satisfaction, enjoying the feel of Marcus pressed against her, the stroke of his tongue chasing hers, and the next realization came crashing through her.

  On a gasp she tore herself from him, fumbling to her feet.

  She stared down at him, his hair mussed and shirt rumpled. His cheeks were flushed red with arousal and his lips were puffy and dark. She could clearly see his erection straining his pants and she steeled her legs against the urge to crawl back onto his lap.

  Despite falling apart in his arms moments before, her body flared back to life, a sizzle of arousal wrapping down her body again.

  Letting out a ragged breath she shifted her gaze away.

  "Nothing to say?"

  She took a step back and shook her head.

  "Don't keep running from this Gigi. You're better than this."

  She paused. It would be so easy to just give in to it—to him again. But self-preservation won out.

  With a sharp turn she headed back to the sleeping cabin's door.

  "Let me know when it’s time to land," she whispered before shutting the door behind her.

  Five

  Flying was overrated.

  Georgia never wanted to take another private flight again. The idea of flying coach crammed next to loud and sweaty strangers was preferable to being trapped plush flying cage in the sky with a smirking jackass with way too much sex-appeal than should be legal.

  Pulling on her favorite pair of blue jeans and black leather boots, she was glad that the journey was almost over. She'd spent the last leg of the flight in the sleeping cabin, trying desperately to read a book she'd long since lost interest in.

  Nothing could take her mind off of her encounter with Marcus. She couldn't even blame the lapse completely on her heat or her wolf.

  Ever since she'd left the hotel that morning, her wolf remained suspiciously silent. She could feel her pacing silently in the back of her mind, but it made no move to take control as it did that morning.

  That scared her almost as much as her reaction to Marcus.

  With her wolf dormant, at least for the moment, Georgia had no choice but to admit, she was the one responsible for her reaction to Marcus. She'd wanted him as badly as her wolf seemed to.

  She hung her head at that truth.

  It didn't matter. So what if she wanted him? It didn't change anything. Falling in lust with Marcus, was one thing, allowing him into her life was a whole other matter.

  Standing up, she pulled on a sweater, then slipped into her heavy winter coat.

  She had more pressing issues to deal with.

  Taking a deep breath, she opened the door separating her from the main cabin and stepped over the threshold.

  Marcus stood waiting for her, his own heavy coat sitting on his shoulders.

  She let her gaze roam over his body in one quick sweep. Their journey was almost over and it was time to get back to reality.

  "Ready?"

  Nodding her head she approached and noticed for the first time that the main hatch of the plane was open.

  Passing Marcus she walked to the opening and breathed in deep. The air was crisp and stinging, so different from the balmy breezes of the Caribbean.

  The cold slammed into her the second she stepped off of the plane and onto the steps leading down to the ground.

  As a shifter, she had a higher tolerance for cold than humans, but that didn't mean her body wasn't affected. It just took more extreme temperatures. And Vancouver in the winter was as extreme as it got without moving to the North Pole.

  She pulled her long coat closer around her and continued down the stairs.

  A large dark SUV waited for them on the tarmac. She recognized the vehicle and smiled. It belonged to Justus on of her father's sentinels.

  She hurried down the last few steps eager for her time with Marcus to be at and end. She paused at the restraining grip on her elbow.

  "Watch your step."

  Rolling her eyes at his unnecessary warning she continued down.

  Justus climbed out of the car and walked towards them, his loose hipped gait eating
up the ground between them.

  He was one of the few men in the pack that didn't avoid her at every turn and she'd grown to like him. With his tall wide frame, dark hair and chocolate eyes she couldn't deny that he was attractive. He seemed safe enough and at one point she'd even reconsidered forgoing her no shifter rule and taking him on as a lover, but his position as a pack Sentinel kept her from pursing him. In the end she'd didn't regret the decision, despite her mother's constant laments over her single status. Justus had proved to be a good friend.

  Reaching the final step she leapt forward and gave him a hug.

  "Welcome back," he said pulling her close.

  "You have no idea how happy I am to see you right now," she whispered.

  His soft chuckle tickled her ear.

  "Bumpy flight?"

  "No comment."

  "I was expecting Darius."

  Marcus's voice sounded rough and clipped behind her.

  Giving one last squeeze, she tuned to see Marcus staring at Justus with cold eyes.

  "He had a few things to take care of, so I volunteered."

  "I'm sure you did."

  She raised her brow at Marcus' curt words. They didn't seem to faze Justus at all. He just stood there rocking back on his heels with a wide smile stretching his lips.

  "Excuse me, Mr. Legrand."

  They all turned as the pilot walked into view, looking disheveled and a little sheepish.

  She turned her head away from the uniformed man, her cheeks warming.

  "I'll be right there," said Marcus.

  He looked at Justus with a narrowed gaze for a moment.

  "Take care of the bags," he said before turning and walking away.

  Oh someone has his boxers in a twist. Hmmm boxer briefs maybe?

  Her gaze zeroed in on his retreating ass for a few moments before she wrenched it away.

  Turning quickly she found Justus staring at her.

  "What," she asked growling out the words.

  "Oh nothing, just curious if the rumors are true."

  "What rumors?"

  He turned away from and picked up her suitcases.

  "Georgia and Marcus sitting in a tree," he sang.

  "Don't even think about it completing that," she said, growling out the words.

  "K-I-S-S—"

  His song was abruptly cut off by Georgia's fist planted solidly on his arm.

  "Ouch!"

  "Hurry the hell up," she said stomping to the back of the car, getting in and slamming the door shut.