by M. L. Briers
She yanked open a tall cupboard and her eyes feasted on the crate of beer that was half gone…
Boy could I use a drink…
She reached in and snagged a can. Rolled her eyes and snatched one up for him, before she kicked the cupboard shut with her naked foot and regretted the pain that shot through her toes, and with a muted groan, she noted the way that his head shot around and his eyes locked with hers once more.
The bright orange light from the lapping flames around the wood played over his face, and made him look a little darker, a little more sinister, like he was one of hell’s demons sent to taunt her, to tempt her, but it was no idle tempting that he wanted.
He’d found his mate, and that was all there was too it, whether he liked it or not… liked her or not. There was a switch within his soul that had been flicked on to woo her.
Some damn wooing. She thought as she stood stock still and eyed him back until he snorted and turned his attention back towards the fire.
I couldn’t get a happy go lucky wolf… if there was such a thing…
Oh no, I had to get Mr Joyful – Joyful…
She stomped over the floorboards towards him and held out the beer, when he snapped his eyes back towards her again. For a long moment he just stared up at her, and she felt every beat of her heart pounding within her ears and against her ribcage.
Then he snorted once more and reached out for the offering.
“Thanks,” he growled a little, and she snorted back at him.
Two can play your game, Mr Bad Mood.
Isobel turned and stalked towards the sofa, dropping down onto cushions that gave under her weight and cuddled her body as she practically fell into them. She couldn’t say that didn’t make her heart jump, but she couldn’t say that she didn’t welcome the soft comfort either.
She popped the ring pull about a second after he did, and drank just a thirstily from her can as she watched him do the same.
Both in the same boat… She admitted to herself.
So who was going to damn well drown first?
Her eyes noted the way that his wet clothes stuck to his body, caressing his muscles, and she hated to admit it to herself, but that fascinated her… When he snatched a look at her over his broad shoulder; she jumped in place, snapping out of her detailed inspection and dropped her eyes down to the can in her hand.
Her body still shivered from the dunking in the ice pond, and yet it could have been worse, so much worse that she didn’t even want to contemplate it.
He grunted and turned back to the fireplace, and her nose twitched in annoyance that she’d been busted checking him out.
Dexter allowed a small grin to take the corners of his lips. He’d caught her looking, inspecting him – checking out what he had to offer, and he liked it.
Her scent had tempted him from the moment that he’d stepped back inside the cabin and it had rushed at him all at once. Her eyes had tempted him even more, and now that they were on him again they warmed him more than being in front of the fire ever could.
His beast was antsy. The wolf wanted to claim her as theirs. Keep her forever and settle to the family life, and yet he still had his reservations.
He’d been as close to rogue as he could get before he’d stepped back onto the mountain, and he’d been like a wolf with a sore head around her. Now his equilibrium was starting to return, and yet, just being around her had still thrown him off…
A damn witch mate of all things…
He closed his eyes for a long moment and let the heat from the fire wash over him. He had to woo her, deep within his very soul he’d felt the pull of the beast trying to take over, knew exactly what would happen to him if he didn’t make her his. Rogue.
He’d fought off that rogue part of himself for long enough to know that he couldn’t survive the loss of his mate without the loss of his mind to his beast. But was that a good reason to ruin her life?
Hell, I don’t even have a damn pack…
What kind of a life would I give her?
Could I give her?
I could throw myself on my brother’s mercy, eat humble pie and a lot of crap, and ask to come back… but would things still be as they were between Justice and I?
I couldn’t live like that… even with a mate to sooth my soul.
Dexter pushed up to his feet, satisfied that the fire had caught nicely and would burn a good while, and he turned and stalked back towards the wardrobe. Placing his beer down on the side as he went, he reached in and dragged out a dry pair of sweatpants…
He could feel her eyes on him in his travels and he liked it. Stalking towards the bed; he tossed the dry material down onto the mattress and reached up behind him to yank his shirt from his body… it resisted leaving his skin, clammy as it dragged over his wet flesh…
Isobel couldn’t help but watch. She’d turned her head away from him a little so as not to get busted checking him out a second time, but as she’d caught sight of him undressing out of the corner of her eye, she had to full on look…
The ridges of pure muscle that he uncovered tempted her to stare a little harder. Another rush of excitement fuelled heat soared through her body, and when his hands caught in the waistband of his jeans, she caught her breath and held it…
Dexter heard her rush to breathe in. His eyes flicked towards hers and they didn’t lock this time, because she had those wide eyes trained on his lower body…
He grinned inwardly as he slowly pushed the fabric downwards… noted the ways her eyes flared when his hard cock gained it’s freedom and bounced upwards, jutting out from his body, baiting her as she swallowed. The tip of her tongue poked out and swiped her lips and he growled like his wolf had just seen a tasty rabbit…
Isobel’s eyes shot up to his as she jumped in place. They were wide at being busted again, and the pink glow of embarrassment warmed her cheeks and made her look damned cute…
“Can’t you do that in the bathroom?” She demanded, snapping her gaze away… Dexter grinned…
“You didn’t.” He growled out and her eyes snapped back to his, accusing and threatening murder in the same heartbeat.
“I didn’t know there was a bathroom,” she hissed back like a rattlesnake that had been stepped on. Dexter laughed again…
“Liar, liar…” he teased and she huffed, spluttered a curse, and turned her back on him.
Dexter couldn’t help the roll of laughter that went through him, and it rumbled out into the air and sent her shoulders back and locked in place as the tension straightened her back.
“Idiot.” She muttered, but that only set him off something fierce. His chuckle became a full fledge roar of laughter and she snorted and grumbled some more as she sent a few daggers over her shoulder in his direction from those fiery eyes of hers.
“Honey, now don’t be shy about it,” he teased between chuckles. “You can take a long, hard look at what I’ve got to offer you any time you feel the need.”
“What? You think I can’t look at your oo-gee-ma-flop without getting all girlie shy?” She snorted her contempt for him.
“Oo-gee-ma-flop? I think I’m insulted, it’s not exactly a flop, at least, it’s not floppy now.” He teased back with the kind of grin that baited her in as she shot him another quick look over her shoulder.
“Here,” she shrugged her shoulders and bounced back in her seat to face him. Her eyes dropped down to his twitching erection, and she pressed her lips together for a second as another round of heat swept through her and her stomach flopped over. “I have no problem looking at your tallywhacker.”
“Just a problem with calling it by what it is…” He chuckled again and her nose twitched in annoyance, just like his hard length twitched at having her eyes feasting on it.
“Penis.” She snapped out, and his cock twitched again. A slow deep rumble going through his chest.
“Erection.” She bit out and watched as it bobbed once more, almost fascinated by the spectacle. His grown got dee
per, longer, and it caught in his throat.
“C-o-c-k…” she offered, and never expected him to start stalking towards her, wet jeans caught up around his knees and ankles, holding him back from getting any real speed up…
“Damn…” he growled as he stumbled over his trousers, and she tossed her head back and burst out laughing at the sight of him.
That brought him to a dead halt as he twisted his head to one side and regarded her with a look of disbelief. Was she for real?
~
CHAPTER EIGHT
~
“Damn, woman, don’t ever laugh at a man when he’s got his pride out.” Dexter growled, but there was amusement still playing within his eyes, because she was laughing and he liked the sound of it, liked it a whole lot.
“Stop pouting and get dressed,” Isobel tossed back, her shoulders still rising and falling with gentle giggles for his situation.
He grunted a little. Cursed that he’d ruined a perfectly good moment between them in his haste to get to her… and he turned and penguin walked back towards the bed, making her laugh some more.
“It’s not funny. I have my damn pride.” He grumbled, but his smile hadn’t faded any, and she giggled harder.
“And a nice taut backside to boot.” She muttered to herself and heard him growl again, sending her off chuckling once more.
~
~
~
“A witch?” Justice growled and groaned at the same time. He dropped his face into his hands as his elbows rested against his knees.
“A-n-o-t-h-e-r witch,” Connor grinned to himself.
Justice washed his hands over his face to rub away the tiredness there, and then pushed back up to stare at Connor.
“Some people in the pack aren’t going to be too happy,” Justice reminded the vampire.
“Mari’s with the clan now, stirring up trouble over there. The rest are pretty much harmless. They’ll be talk and bitching, but it’ll be fine.” Connor assured him. “Besides, nobody said that Dexter was staying. You know him…” Connor left that one open as Justice sighed.
“Yep.”
“You think he’ll stay?” Connor asked, frowning.
“I honestly couldn’t say.” Justice screwed up his face and regarded the moon hanging in the sky above.
“Best guess?” Connor pushed and Justice sighed again.
“None.” Justice shrugged those broad shoulders.
“You know there are times when it’s easier, and I find more answers, by talking to myself.” Connor offered and Justice nodded.
“Some would say that’s the first sign of madness.”
“Been there, done that, I’ve got the T-shirt that says nutty as a squirrel’s dinner and as blood thirsty as a pirate-”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Justice asked and Connor took a long breath in and dropped his shoulders.
“No idea.” He admitted on a frown. “I think it’s all these damn mates-”
“It getting to ya?” Justice gave him a knowing look and Connor scowled back.
“Not in the way you imply, no.” Connor denied.
“You sure?” Justice liked winding the man up – it didn’t happen often, but over the years he’d found that the vampire had a few buttons that could be pushed and it was like finding manna from heaven when he hit one.
“Positive.” Connor grumbled. “Change the damn subject.”
“Touchy.”
“Feely.” Connor snapped back. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
“Ouch.” Justice grinned. “There’s a thorn in your paw.”
“They’ll be a foot up your ass if you keep on.” Connor shot back.
“Someone feeling a little lonesome?” Justice grinned and Connor snorted.
“Between the pack and the clan, I’m feeling a little run down, and a lot worn out.”
“Like you need a mate to sooth you?” Justice’s grin widened.
“Like a hooker in a brothel on payday.” Connor shot back.
“If you say so, old friend.” Justice grinned harder and Connor snorted as he rolled his eyes back in his head.
“You’re annoying the hell out of me.” He warned and Justice chuckled.
“That happens to me a lot when you’re around.”
Connor snorted. Tossed up a hand to Justice’s cabin before he turned on his heels and started to walk away.
“I’ll leave you to your mate.”
“While you go find yours?” Justice called to the vampire’s back but Connor kept walking off into the darkness. The fun was over.
Justice sat there and his smile slowly turned into a frown. He didn’t know how long Connor had walked the earth, but the man must have got tired of being alone at some point… even if he did hide it well.
~
~
~
“Beans, Franks, and tinned potatoes.” Dexter offered as he set the plate down on the counter top.
“That’s your idea of an invite to dinner?” She shot back, sniffing the air and admitting to herself that she was damned hungry.
“Yep.” Dexter shot back.
He wanted her to eat something – it would warm her from the inside out, and he didn’t want her to put her back up and refuse food because he had no manners, and yet, he’d told her that he wasn’t the romantic kind.
Dexter saw her push up to her feet out of the corner of his eye and was grateful that she wasn’t about to play any mind games with him. When she walked to the counter and seated herself on the stool – he moved around to the stool next to hers and did the same.
“Boy, a fart fest on a plate,” she offered as she reached for the knife and fork beside her plate, and he roared with laughter. She shot him an amused look. His laugh was deep and contagious, and it looked good on him.
“Well, as we’ll both be doing it together I say we call it even.” He offered, leaning in towards her just a little and she felt his warmth.
“You’ll have to go some to better me when I get going.” She warned him and he chuckled hard.
“I’ll keep that in mind while I’m listening to you pop them off one after the other.” He teased and she frowned a little.
“If nothing else, all that methane should warm the bed.”
“B-e-d.” He’d forked his food but his hand hovered over his plate, unable to think beyond the thought of them in bed together.
“You get the couch.” She offered quickly and he grunted.
“Kill my imagination, why don’t ya?” He offered back and she grinned.
“I’m certain there’s nothing that could do that.” She shot back.
“Let’s not try.” Dexter eyed her as she ate. “I’ve got a really good imagination.” He drawled and she almost choked on swallowing down her food.
“I don’t want to go there,” she offered, keeping her gaze on her plate as her cheeks warmed some.
“Sure you do, you just don’t want to admit to it… yet.” Dexter’s grin was wide and all predator when she shot a look at him, and she swallowed again. Then snorted.
“Eat your damn food,” she grumbled to the sound of another chuckle that rolled through him.
“Deflecting…” he shook his head and she grumbled again.
“Keep on and I’ll deflect a pot at your thick head.” She mumbled, tucking in to her food, and shooting the odd look in his direction. The man was chewing, but he was still smiling.
~
~
~
“I’m guessing you don’t live here.” She puffed up the pillow on her side of the bed as they stood like bookends on either side of the mattress divide.
“Nope.” Dexter gave a small shake of his head. “How’d you know?”
“Generator off. No fire in the grate. Lack of food and milk for coffee…” she shrugged.
“Miss Marple.” He grinned.
“Is this not pack land?”
“It is.” Dexter felt a little cautious.
If she honoured h
im in becoming his mate then he needed to settle down and provide for her and any pups that might come along… that thought floored him.
A few hours before he’d met her he was planning on getting his wolf’s head right before taking off on his motorbike again to pastures greener, places unknown, and now he was thinking about pups…
“Is it not your pack’s land?” She frowned.
“Kind of.” Dexter admitted and when his eyes met hers they were questioning and he sighed. “I don’t see eye to eye with the alpha here.”
“He a dick?”
“Most definitely.” He grinned inwardly. “He’s also my brother.”
“Ouch.” She muttered and he smiled.
“We went at it a few years ago. I guess we both have the alpha gene, but he’s a white wolf, and this pack is white wolves-”
“Your wolf is…?”
“Grey.”
“How’d…?” She wasn’t sure she should ask.
“Genetic throwback to a few ancestors.” He offered and she nodded. “So, he got alpha and I left.”
“He make you?” She didn’t like the alpha already. Pushing out a brother… it wasn’t right.
“Nope. He asked me to stay. I declined, not very nicely.” Dexter felt a pang of guilt. Justice always held out the olive branch every time that he came home, and every time he’d tossed it back in his face out of pride…
Pride didn’t mean much when you had a family to feed and shelter, and it looked like he might be walking that path sooner than expected. Pups needed a pack to help raise them properly, ergo, he needed a pack.
“So,” She rolled that thought on her tongue. “You’re the dick.” She offered with a grin that was infection and he couldn’t help himself.
“Pretty much,” he nodded.
“Why am I not surprised?” She tossed the pillow that she’d been hugging down onto the bed and turned to sit on the edge.
“You know, you’re not all sweetness and light yourself,” he offered and she snorted a chuckle.
“Never claimed to be,” she shrugged.
“Me either,” he frowned.