Broken Moon

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Broken Moon Page 4

by Catherine Vale


  Chapter Six

  Jocelyne was never quite sure afterward exactly how the hell she and Harley managed to get the hell out of there. Somehow they managed to fight through another wave of guards, get out into the parking lot, hotwire a car, and crash through the electric gates without getting killed. Or having their tires blown out.

  “So what now?” Jocelyne asked as Harley turned the car off the road, parking it behind a thicket of trees.

  “Now we haul ass.” Harley killed the engine, then hopped out of the car.

  “Haul ass?” Jocelyne echoed. The passenger side door swung open a second later, and then Harley was tugging her out of the vehicle. “What do you mean? Like, on foot?”

  “Unfortunately, yeah.” Harley cursed as he caught sight of the blood-soaked stain covering the right side of her blouse. The reminder of the flesh wound caused pain to zing to the area, and Jocelyne hissed. Guess the adrenaline was finally wearing off.

  “Shit,” he muttered, crouching down so that he was eye-level with her abdomen. His fingers were light as he gently tugged her blouse out of her pencil skirt so he could examine the wound. “Not as bad as I thought,” he said after a moment. “But still, we should bandage it up.”

  By a stroke of pure luck, Harley managed to find a first aid kit stashed in the back of the car, and he cleaned and dressed the wound using hydrogen peroxide and gauze bandages. Jocelyne clenched her jaw at the sting and burn of him cleaning the wound, not wanting to distress him further – she could already tell from the set of his shoulders and the tightness in the muscles of his face that he was distressed enough by her pain as it was. There was no point in winding him up further.

  “You’ve been very brave,” he said quietly as he finally finished dressing the wound.

  “Only because I’ve had you here to protect me,” she said, only half-joking. “If I didn’t have you as a safety net I’d probably still be in that cell as a quivering mess puddled on the floor.”

  “I don’t think so,” Harley said, shaking his head. “You have enough strength within you to bolster an entire army. I can feel it, in here.” He brushed his fingers against her exposed belly, and her stomach muscles jumped as a desire rippled through her nerves. Her breath caught as her face instantly flushed, her thighs popping open of their own accord.

  What the hell? Talk about wrong place, wrong time.

  Her blush only deepened when she saw Harley’s eyes flash, because she knew he sensed the change in her, and probably thought she was some kind of hussy for even having thoughts about sex at a time like this. Clearing her throat, she brushed his hands away and stepped back, letting her blouse fall to cover her belly.

  “We should get moving.”

  “Yes, of course.” Harley rose fluidly, then reached into the car to grab any supplies they could. The rounds in Jocelyne’s gun were all used up, so Harley gave her his, which she tucked into the waistband of her skirt, knowing that a huge bulge was going to be showing through the back of her blouse, but having no alternative. He pulled out the little bit of cash he found in the center console, bundled up the first aid kit, and snagged a few sticks of beef jerky that were left in the dash.

  “Here,” he said, handing her one after he’d sniffed it carefully. “Eat this. It’ll help you heal faster.”

  They began their trek through the forest, munching on their beef jerky as they walked. Jocelyne started feeling a little better as the food hit her system – she didn’t have superhuman healing abilities to the extent that Harley or her father did, but she still healed faster than humans, and meat did help accelerate the healing process.

  They walked for several hours, moving at as fast a pace as Jocelyne was able to with the wound in her side – and sometimes even a little faster than that, as Harley was constantly pushing her to do more. When she tripped over a root and nearly broke her leg, Harley broke the heels off her shoes, turning them into flats so that she could traverse the terrain better. They crossed brooks and streams wherever possible to muddy up their scent in case they were followed by dogs, and kept conversation to a bare minimum so as to make as little noise as possible.

  Somehow, whether it was sheer dumb luck or some kind of intuition on Harley’s part, they stumbled across a cabin tucked into a clearing – a small, one story structure nestled cozily amongst a copse of oak and maple trees. Jocelyne would have whooped and jumped into the air if her feet hadn’t been killing her – instead she settled for exchanging weary grins with Harley.

  “We’ll bunk here for the night,” he told her. “I expect we won’t be encountering any civilization for at least five more hours of walking, so we may as well get some rest while we can.”

  That sounded like heaven right now to Jocelyne, but she eyed the cabin warily, wondering who it belonged to. “What if the owner comes back while we’re here?”

  “There aren’t any recent scents indicating that anyone’s currently occupying the place,” Harley assured her. “This is probably someone’s vacation spot. If someone does show up in the night – which is pretty doubtful – we’ll just make ourselves scarce before they spot us. I’m good at that,” he added with a wink.

  “Okay.” More than ready to get off her feet, Jocelyne followed him inside. It was the middle of the night, and she had virtually no idea what time it was, though judging by how tired her body was she imagined it was sometime in the wee hours of the morning. She waited for Harley to flip the breaker switches on to let some light in, and sighed in relief when a small lamp was switched on, illuminating the space.

  It wasn’t a very large cabin at all – there was the living room, which they were standing in, a small dining table off to the left side of the entrance, and around the corner was a small kitchen. Whoever owned the place had decorated it in a combination of vintage and rustic – there were bear throw rugs on the floors, western-patterned blankets draped over the cloth recliner and sofa, a bright yellow refrigerator with a wheel attached to the outside, and a real, honest-to-god wood burning stove. The dining table was even draped with a red and white checkered cloth, and when Jocelyne opened the door to the kitchen closet, she found a vintage apron hanging off a hook behind the door.

  “Wish we could start a fire in here,” Harley said, rubbing his hands together. His breath frosted in the chill night air, reminding her of how cold she was, and she clenched her muscles to keep from shivering. “But the smoke would alert any passersby to our presence, and I can’t risk it.”

  “That’s okay.” Tucking her arms under her sleeves, Jocelyne desperately wished her kidnappers had left her with the warm, water proof woolen jacket she’d been wearing before they’d snatched her off the sidewalk. “Can… can we at least get some more light in here?” she asked, eyeing the single lit lamp resting on a hand-carved side table perched next to the couch.

  Harley shook his head. “The boards on the windows will only block so much light from seeping out,” he explained. “Again, can’t risk anyone knowing that we’re here.”

  Jocelyne sighed. “Of course.” She sat down on the couch and waited as Harley went into the bedroom to scope out the area, and gazed longingly at the fireplace, wishing that she was here under better circumstances. She would have loved to vacation at a little place like this, maybe with a few of her girlfriends, or a man if she’d had one in her life. When she was little, her father used to take her on trips like this – they would rent a cabin in a cornfield somewhere in Vermont and go fishing at a nearby lake. During the summers he’d take her to a local farm where she could pick blueberries or strawberries, and afterwards they’d buy a can of whipped cream and eat the whole basket, then go out to dinner somewhere.

  Tears smarted at her eyes as a fierce longing filled her chest, and suddenly she felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

  “Hey.” Suddenly Harley was there, crouching down in front of her, sincere concern in his gorgeous blue eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “I…” Jocelyne croaked, then cleared her throat and blinked
the tears away. More came back, and she swiped angrily at them, refusing to act like the melodramatic female. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was just thinking of my father.”

  Harley sat down on the couch beside her and scooped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her against him. The heat from his big, hard body instantly began seeping through her clothes, and her body shuddered as the warmth hit her. “You miss him?” he asked, rubbing her shoulder gently.

  Jocelyne nodded. “It’s just been so long since I’ve last seen him… and this cabin just reminded me of the trips we used to take when I was a little girl. He had more time for me then, before he decided he had to save the world.” She hung her head, ashamed at the bitterness in her voice. “I know I’m selfish to think of it but… I do miss him.”

  Harley squeezed her gently. “I have a feeling that when we get out of this mess, you’re father’s not going to want to let you out of his sight for a long, long time.”

  Jocelyne laughed a little. “You’re probably right about that,” she said, her heart lightening a little. “My father’s very overprotective. If I would allow it, he’d have a detail posted outside my house and place of employment, and a bodyguard or two following me around twenty-four seven.”

  Harley gave her a crooked little grin that lent his stern, handsome features a boyish charm. “If I had a woman as beautiful as you, I’d have a protective detail on you twenty-four seven regardless of whether or not you’d allow it.”

  Jocelyne rolled her eyes, but her heart melted a little at his words. “You shifter types are all the same. So overly territorial.”

  “It’s in our nature to protect what is ours…and what we love.” Harley’s eyes gleamed as he stared down at her, and for just a second Jocelyne wondered what it would be like to be his. She had a feeling he would be extremely possessive, but also tender and caring, and that he would make sure she never wanted for anything… in or out of the bedroom. She shivered a little as a wave of lust rolled through her at the idea of Harley taking her to his bed and making passionate love to her – sweet, hot, rough, fast, slow.

  Whatever the flavor of lovemaking, she had no doubt that he would be very, very good at it.

  Harley’s chest expanded a little as he sucked in a breath, and suddenly he dropped his arm from her shoulder and scooted back two inches. Hurt slammed into her chest at his rejection, and her body shivered miserably as the cold swarmed around her now that he was no longer cocooning her in his heat.

  Obviously he’d smelled her lust again, and had decided he didn’t want her.

  Oh well. It’s not like we’re on a date or anything. Stop being so ridiculous. The two of them had been thrown together by circumstance and misfortune, and though they were going to have to work together to get out of this safely, that didn’t mean Harley was obligated to sleep with her. For heaven’s sake, he could have someone waiting for him at home! Goodness knows that with his face and body, women probably threw themselves at his feet with alarming regularity.

  Just as she was apparently poised to do.

  Disgusted with herself, she shot up from the couch, needing to put some distance of her own between them. “I’m going to bed,” she announced, her voice surprisingly steady even though her insides felt like jelly. “Let me get you some blankets so you’re not cold out here.”

  She disappeared inside the bedroom, and part of her wished that she could just disappear altogether.

  Chapter Seven

  Harley groaned as he turned over on the couch, unable to sink into even the lightest of dozes. Jocelyne had gone to bed hours ago, and was probably sleeping peacefully, and here he was, rolling around unable to shut down the anxious thoughts that flickered like wildfire.

  He’d slept on hard stone floors with a rock as a pillow before. Sleeping on something as luxurious in comparison as a couch should be no problem.

  But he knew it wasn’t the bedding situation that was keeping him from nodding off. It was the guilt gnawing in his chest. He knew he’d hurt Jocelyne’s feelings when he’d pulled away from her, and he felt horrible about it, especially because his initial reaction when he’d scented her desire was to pull her into his arms and kiss the breath out of her, not push her away.

  But of course he couldn’t do that. She was the daughter of his boss, for Christ’s sake. Lee would string him up by his balls if he knew Harley had taken advantage of his daughter while he was supposed to be protecting her. Because yes, even though he hadn’t been ‘assigned’ to protect Jocelyne, everyone in the Order knew about the Commander’s daughter, and how important she was to him, and if it had been another member here instead of Harley, they’d take it upon themselves to protect her too. Shifters always protected their own, and to the Order, Jocelyne was extended family.

  Oh come on, an insidious voice whispered inside his head. Taking advantage of her? Give me a break. She’s a grown woman who knows what she wants… and she definitely wants to sleep with you.

  Fuck off, he snarled, hitting the wall with his fist to make his treacherous mind shut up. Just because he and Jocelyne were attracted to each other didn’t mean that sleeping together was a good idea. He was a soldier for the Order of Protection, and his life consisted of being sent out on missions that he had no idea if he’d ever return from. Jocelyne didn’t need someone unreliable like him – she needed a good, steady, dependable guy with a regular job who would love her and take care of her.

  Not someone who would kick the bucket before reaching his forties, and whose body had a fifty-fifty chance of never even being recovered to bury, if he did die.

  Besides, they didn’t even know each other, and just escaped a living hell. The last thing either of them should be thinking about is sex. Yet…

  A soft, feminine whimper reached his ears, and he sat up straight, his ears cocked. The pain-filled sound came again, clear as day despite the door between him and Jocelyne, and he was on his feet instantly and through the door without so much as a knock.

  “Jocelyne?” he asked, approaching the bed slowly so as not to startle her. She was buried beneath a mound of blankets that quivered as her small, delicate form quivered, and fear leapt into his throat. Had she caught sick? Did she have a fever? He didn’t have any medicine…

  “S-s-s-s-so c-c-c-cold…” she chattered, curling herself up even more tightly into a ball.

  Sighing in both relief and frustration, Harley regarded Jocelyne with a mixture of desire and trepidation. He knew he couldn’t leave her like this to freeze, and yet the alternative would place him on the road to temptation, which was definitely not where he wanted to be.

  Face it, boy. Your feet hit that path the moment you lifted her shirt to dress that wound of hers.

  “Hang on,” Harley said through gritted teeth. “I’ll be right there.” Hating that the inner voice in his head was right, he stripped down to his underwear, then lifted the blankets and crawled into bed with her. Jocelyne whimpered as the cold air briefly rushed beneath the blankets, hitting her skin, which was barely covered by the blouse, and pencil skirt she wore.

  “Here, let’s get these useless things off you,” Harley said gently. He tugged Jocelyne’s shivering form into a sitting position and swiftly unbuttoned her blouse and unzipped her skirt, trying not to linger on her form even though his night vision could see every curve and dip of her body. “Why didn’t you change into any of the clothes in the drawers? There’s plenty of warm things in there that you could wear.”

  “D-didn’t want to leave any s-sign that we’d b-been here,” Jocelyne chattered as he finished removing her clothes, leaving her only in a pair of panties and a white push up bra that did amazing, mouth-watering things to her cleavage that Harley was desperately trying not to notice.

  Harley couldn’t help but smile at her determination. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” he said, pulling her against him. “If you did take any clothes from here we’d simply take them with us, not leave them behind for someone to wash. The people who use this ca
bin probably come here so infrequently that they wouldn’t even notice if a pair of sweatpants went missing.”

  “I-if you say so.” Jocelyne slowly began to relax into him, the tremors gradually leaving her limbs as Harley’s warmth spread through her body. Harley held very still as she shifted against him, pressing her bottom against his groin and the smooth skin of her back against his abs as she tried to soak up more of his warmth. He bit the inside of his cheek to try and stave off the hard on growing beneath his boxers, and tasted blood.

  But even that wasn’t enough when Jocelyne let out a long, satisfied moan. “God, that’s so much better. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said roughly, and it took everything in him not to scramble from the bed sheets, and run for the couch before she became aware of his erection. But he knew that she’d just get cold again if he left, and that he’d only be hurting her with another rejection, so he stayed, trying to remain as still as possible even though his hips wanted to grind his cock against her ass. He could slide her panties down right now and he would be inside her…

  His breath lodged in his throat when Jocelyne rubbed her bottom up against his crotch again, this time in a slow, sensuous motion that was unmistakably deliberate. “Do you like that?” she whispered.

  “W-what are you doing?” Harley gasped.

  “Giving you what you want.” Jocelyne paused in her rubbing motion, and when she spoke again there was a note of hesitation in her voice. “This is what you want, isn’t it?”

  Harley groaned, not wanting to lie to her, but knowing that he shouldn’t encourage her either. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he said, burying his face in her hair, which was a mistake. Her sweet, vanilla scent flooded his senses, and his cock hardened even more.

  Jocelyne turned in his arms, framing his face with her hands as she looked up at him. Her soft, lavender eyes were luminous in the darkness, captivating him against his will. “Why not?”

 

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