Cupping her jaw, he caressed it with his thumb. “We’ll talk, Em. We’ll talk, but now — now, I have to have you.” Forceful and dynamic, his words slammed into her ears.
“I’m holding you to that,” she insisted, putting her hand over his and pressing it to her skin. “Promise me, Lassiter. Say it,” Emerson whispered against his hand.
His chest inflated against hers and he looked into her eyes with solemn assurance. “Promise,” he repeated.
Emerson wrapped her arms around his neck and firmly planted her lips on his, showing him with her passion that she was ready to take him at his word.
Her hand wove into his hair, clenching the strands with tight fists, and she leaned into him, allowing his body to mold to hers.
Lassiter’s hands found her ass, reaching up under the towel and cupping the firm globes of flesh. Massaging them, grasping them and pulling Emerson against him with forceful purpose.
She sighed into his mouth, forgetting their argument. Forgetting that Lassiter hadn’t let her into the most confidential part of his life. Forgetting everything but his kiss.
A kiss that left her lungs without air.
A kiss that stopped her heart and prodded her senses.
The length of steel between Lassiter’s legs was rigid, pressing between the apex of her thighs with urgency. He lifted her and wrapped her legs around his waist, moving them to the far wall.
Lassiter cushioned her back, keeping her from the cold tile, pulling away the towel with a sharp yank and exposing her heated skin to the cool air.
His breathing was harsh, ragged when he ran his hand along the swell of her hip, gripping it.
Emerson’s body trembled with need and her pussy, swollen and hot rubbed with delicious friction against his jeans. Pulling her hands upward, he collared them, imprisoning her wrists to allow him better access to her nipples, now swollen and rigid.
The first swipe of his tongue was hot, like the strike of an iron swiping her flesh, and Emerson’s moan resounded in the bathroom, acoustically moving around the small space. Lifting herself, she pushed into Lassiter’s warm lips, bowing against the hands that held her until the top of her head pushed against the wall.
Lassiter moved from breast to breast, weaving between them with strokes of his tongue, scintillating and deft.
Emerson’s whimper drew him to let go of her hands. She clung to his broad neck, struggling to find her breath before reaching between them and pulling at his jeans. Tearing at the button and zipper, jamming her hands into them and grasping his cock in a firm lock.
Lassiter’s hips jutted against her hand and he hissed, letting his head fall back while she stroked him, long pulls designed to tease and taunt him to fuck her.
“Fucking hell, Em. I don’t know how much more I can take,” Lassiter said between his teeth.
Emerson unwound her legs from his waist and slid down his body, shoving his pants to his ankles with an aggression she didn’t know she had in her.
She wanted him naked.
She wanted his cock, hard and hot, driving into her.
He kicked his pants off, shoving them roughly to the side and dragging her forward. With a socked foot, he tipped the lid of the toilet seat closed and sat down.
His eyes locked on her waist, hungry and lit with the fire of passion. He buried his face in her belly, wrapping firm arms around her and splaying his fingers on her ass. Creeping over the smooth globe, he slipped his fingers between her legs from behind, skirting the tender flesh of her cunt.
Lassiter inhaled her scent, moaning with low approval. Emerson’s hands, resting at her sides, came up to pull him close to her.
With slow lips that moved in maddeningly deliberate kisses, Lassiter moved over her abdomen until he reached the curls at the top of her pussy. His fingers worked her cunt, slipping in and out of the folds, slippery wet with wanton need. Stroking her outer lips, he moved in time with his mouth, stroking her, licking her skin, until he slithered into her cunt.
The touch of his tongue sizzled her flesh, fraying the frazzled cord of control she held. He parted the flesh of her pussy, laving her clit, suckling it as he slipped into her, his finger thick and seeking.
He stroked her from the inside, hitting her G-spot, dragging his finger over it again and again, sending chills along her arms, making her nipples tighten almost painfully as his tongue lashed her cunt.
Emerson jammed her hips upward, raising her leg to rest on the seat of the cool porcelain toilet, finding the edge of the sink and gripping it to steady her grind against Lassiter’s mouth. Orgasm clawed at her, release begging to be made a reality. She fought to savor the feel of his lips against her, his silken head resting against her inner thigh.
When her release hit her, it was with the fury of a bolt of lightning. It dragged her over an edge, yanked her gut, tearing at the speed of light from her feet to the top of her head.
This time, Emerson howled — a howl of unmatched satisfaction, immeasurable pleasure. Undulating under his tongue, she let it happen. Letting go of her every inhibition with a scream that was wild, unfettered, riddled by lust.
Emerson collapsed against him, letting her leg fall and her hands grab blindly for his shirt.
Lassiter turned her in his arms, seating her with her back to his chest, hauling her backwards until his cock slipped between her thighs and rested between the slick lips of her cunt.
She reached for him, clasping his cock and lubricating it with the juice of her pussy. Stroking it hand over hand, rubbing it against her clit.
She felt his tension beneath her, his muscles hard and coiled tight with control. Emerson wanted him to lose control. Lose the barrier that kept them from connecting on every level.
“Em, now. I need to be in you now,” he ground out against her ear between harsh breaths.
His hands came to cup her breasts, rolling her nipples between firm fingers. Lifting her hips, Emerson smiled to herself and sank onto his cock. Thick and long. Swallowing first the mushroom shaped head, descending inch by excruciating inch. Holding him firmly at her passage with her hand until she slid down to settle on his lap.
Twitching within her, Lassiter sighed when her ass rubbed against him. The crisp hair on his thighs scraped against her and she luxuriated in his maleness.
He shifted beneath her, but she held him by wrapping her thighs around the tops of his and clenching the muscles of her cunt. On the tips of her toes, bracing herself by gripping his wrists, she rose and drove downward, letting the sleek heat of his cock drive into her.
It jolted him and he reacted by gripping her waist, digging into it to drive deeper. His cock flared, swelling within her. Emerson could literally feel the blood course through it. Her ass hit his thighs with each plunge she took, impaling herself on the rigid fire. Sliding a finger down to her clit, Lassiter stroked it, bringing it to a hard nub.
Leaning back in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck, she let the rough stubble of his chin score her neck. Emerson focused only on the complete fulfillment she felt with him inside of her.
Her senses were raw, aware, hypersensitive to every vein that pulsed with the rush of lust. The sweet sound of their flesh slapping together.
His lips suckled her neck, tasting her flesh, rasping his tongue over it, and she caved in that instant.
The throb of his cock, her cunt, slick and aching became more than she could bear. She came with velocity, while Lassiter’s hand was buried in her pussy and his lips caressed her neck. With his silken head of hair against her cheek and his puffs of breath in her ear.
She gyrated her hips as she soared upward, letting only the hot seed of his release be her goal.
His arm, tight and sculpted, held her around the waist and he lifted her with his thrusts. He shouted her name when he came, thick spurts of his seed spilling into Emerson while he did.
Quiet overtook the bathroom, an eerie calm with the scent of their lovemaking permeating the air. The harsh breaths they took slowed.
> Emerson floated back from where she’d been to the reality that was now between them. If they could only forget everything else but this, Emerson would. But they had so much between them. It was time to bridge that gap.
Now, before anyone else was hurt by this lonely quest Lassiter seemed to think he had to make alone.
“It’s time to talk, Lassiter,” she reminded him, her voice sounding like that of someone else to her ears, hoarse and scratchy.
“Yeah, baby, it’s time to talk.”
Chapter Eleven
“The parakeet.”
Lassiter rocked back on his heels and gave her a wary glance, taking her with him to the old sofa he had in the living room and plunking down on it. “Yep. He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother. Drake. His name is Drake.”
“And he’s always been a bird?”
“For as long as I can remember being in foster care. My parents died when I was seven. I was found with Bud, er, Drake and the letter. I couldn’t read the letter for a long time, but I never told anyone I had it and when I could first read, I didn’t understand it. I only knew my parents left it with me and told me to always keep it safe, that someday I’d understand. I made such a ruckus about keeping him that I guess the state let me. We were moved a lot until the Fullers found me.”
“So you did know your parents?”
His face had a faraway look. “Yes. I don’t remember them as well as I’d like, though.”
“I’m sorry, Lassiter. I’m sorry they’re gone.” Her remorse was clear when she grabbed his hand to squeeze it.
“Anyway, Drake is cursed. I’m guessing my parents thought the state would split us up. Turning Drake into a parakeet was a good way of ensuring I’d keep him.”
“Call me crazy, but I gotta ask. How can you possibly know that Bu — Drake is really a human? I mean, you don’t, right?”
His chuckle was ironic. “Yeah, I do. We can communicate via telepathy. He talks to me all the time. He understands everything. He said to tell you he’s glad I stopped being an ass.”
Emerson laughed out loud. “Well, tell him, me too. So you had the letter and, if I think I understand this properly, you dug up a lot of Adams land because Adams is a common last name and you were searching for a needle in a haystack, right?”
“Right. As crazy as it sounds, that’s what I did and I’ll keep doing it until I find what I need, Emerson.” His words were sent as almost a threat.
“Hold onto your fangs there, pale boy. I’m not denying you the right to dig stuff up anymore. Now that I understand, of course. See before? Emerson had no clue there was a purpose to Lassiter’s mindless destruction, cuz he didn’t tell her. Ya feel me?” she teased.
Lassiter rubbed her hand with his. “How do you tell someone, anyone, you’re a vampire?”
“Point. Tell me about this vampire stuff. Don’t you need blood to survive? How did the state explain that to the Fullers, or any of your foster homes for that matter?”
“They didn’t have to. I didn’t even know I craved blood until I donated some and eyed up the vials of it like they were a rare steak.”
“Huh? If you’re immortal and the only way to sustain that immortality is blood, I’d think you’d need O negative in copious quantities.”
“No, Em. I’m not entirely a vampire.”
Okay, here’s where she should tell him his rocker was broken and he was off it, but Emerson had to finish this. She looked directly at him. “Do I look befuddled to you? Cuz this is the face of a woman who thinks you’re a whack.”
Laughing, he pulled her close and rested his chin on the top of her head. “I’m half werewolf too, Em.”
“Are you serious?” she yelped.
“Yep, I shift just like you. I found that out quite by accident on a night with a full moon when I was ten. The only thing I can figure is my vampire werewolf signals are all crossed, and what I need to survive are small parts from each species that make me whole.”
“I don’t know what to say…”
“What can you say to a guy who wants to suck your blood and mount you from behind, all at the same time?”
Never truer words…
“Why couldn’t you smell that I was a werewolf, Lassiter? Why couldn’t I smell you?”
“I’ve got to go with the theory that I don’t have all of the perks each species has. My sense of smell is keen, but I couldn’t have told that you were a werewolf just by smelling you.”
For a moment, Emerson felt the sense of displacement Lassiter must have all of his life and it squeezed her heart. “Why did you stop writing, Lassiter? After you left, I thought we’d still be friends, but you stopped calling and writing.”
“No, Em. I didn’t. I sent letters. I called and when I did, your mother told me you were out.”
Her mother. Never happy about the time she’d spent with Lassiter, she’d obviously decided to interfere. Running her hand down his face, she kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry. I never got the letters and I never heard about the phone calls.”
“Are the Adams werewolves like you, Emerson?”
She nodded her head, and then a thought occurred to her. “Do you see what you could have avoided if you’d just told me the truth?”
“Did you tell me the truth about you?”
Sighing with exasperation, she said, “No, but I don’t have a brother who has feathers either. I’d say your situation was much more desperate than mine.”
“You know what’s funny? I didn’t know there were others like me, or at least half like me. Do you know what a relief it is to know you’re Princess?”
Her face flushed. “Do you know how much it sucks to put your sock in my mouth?”
Lassiter howled with laughter, and it made Emerson smile. This felt like what they’d once shared and it felt so right. “I can’t believe you were capable of such deceit.”
“Look, I wouldn’t cast the first stone there, big boy,” she joked, nudging him.
“This means you could really be an Adams, Lassiter. Okay, so next we go to the Adams and talk to them,” she stated firmly, moving to rise and go to the next step in locating them all.
“No.” He remained stubbornly seated.
“Fuck that ‘no,’ Lassiter. Get up.”
His face returned to that glacial expression he wore with such finesse. “I won’t be mocked by a bunch of werewolves who won’t accept me because I’m half vampire, Em. No way in hell.”
Oh, that was rich. She threw her head back and laughed. “Um, Lassiter? Get up off of your ass, and lemme tell ya a story about a family called Adams. Trust me when I say no one will mock you.” She yanked his hand hard. “Get up and move it. We have some phone calls to make.”
A reluctant, confused Lassiter tagged behind her as she dragged him out of the house and toward the Adams house.
Emerson waved at Bud in his cage on the way out. “Hang tight there, Big Bird. We’re going to figure this out once and for all.”
* * *
“Emerson, right?” a woman said from the chair in the Adams kitchen. Her blue eyes twinkled even in the dim light of only the stovetop bulb’s glow.
“Oh, my God! You’re the infamous Eva, aren’t you? Max’s grandmother?” Emerson greeted her with a warm smile. “I’ve seen your picture.”
“That’s me. Is everyone off in Manhasset with Julia and Xavier?”
“Yep. They were pretty excited.”
“I so love babies.” She smiled at Emerson and Lassiter. “I must do what needs to be done here and get right off to New York.”
“What needs to be done here?” Emerson asked. “I told Max and everyone I’d hold the fort until they got back,” she assured Eva.
Eva almost ignored her in favor of seeing Lassiter. Her eyes held him while he hovered at the edge of the kitchen. Rising from her chair, Eva smiled. “Oh, you must be Anna’s boy,” she cried, moving toward Lassiter and putting a hand on his arm.
Lassiter cocked his head, seeking Emerson’s eyes from
across the room. “How —how did you know?”
Eva hugged him and smiled. “I’d know Anna’s boy anywhere. Anna and I were raised together. My family adopted her. She was the sister of my heart, though I was a great deal older than her. We had a bond like no other.”
“You knew my mother?”
Eva beamed. “I did indeed. Such a beautiful girl. Dark like you. She was an impulsive one, Anna was. Anyway, you’re home now, young man. What’s your name?”
“Lassiter,” he answered woodenly. For the first time in knowing Lassiter, Emerson sensed he was overwhelmed.
“A fine name for a handsome boy. We have work to do, yes?”
“Wait. I have no idea what’s going on here. I’m — I —”
“You’re confused, Lassiter,” Emerson offered. “Eva? Could we sit down and talk. Lassiter has a lot of questions, I’d think.”
“Isn’t he here to help his brother? We need to hurry to do that, don’t we?”
“Yes, ma’am, I am. How did you know that?”
Eva rolled her eyes at him and put her arm around his tapered waist. “Because I’m the one who created the spell for Anna, silly.”
Well, of course she had. Emerson rolled her eyes. Eva was the answer to everything unbelievable and as far out as you could get in the Adams family.
“The spell,” Lassiter muttered.
“Yes,” Eva said on a sigh. “The spell to keep your brother with you. I didn’t know why Anna needed it. You do know she was married to a vampire, yes? Your father?”
Lassiter nodded wordlessly.
“Well, it would seem there were other vampires who didn’t like your father, Maddon, mating with Anna. Vampires who have no sense of diversity, if you ask this old woman,” she spat. “They didn’t want you and your brother to… to… How can I put this delicately? They didn’t want you and your brother to, well, exist. Not at all. Anna’s plan was to hide you, turn you both into parakeets. I’m sorry for the oddity of the chosen animal, but my spells are limited. I personally would have gone lion, like our Xavier, had I known how. It was designed to hide you where necessary. Hide you from your father’s family, heathens that they were. Anyway, Anna disappeared shortly after she asked for the spell and then, one day, I woke up and in my heart…” Her voice caught, but she cleared her throat and steadied it. “I felt it. I felt she was gone, and I had no clue where you two were. I searched for you everywhere. It’s left a hole in my heart that, now, can finally be filled.”
Wolfmates: Ruff & Ready Page 8