She narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”
He slid his hands from her face down to her shoulders. “I met with Brad earlier.”
“Brad as in my uncle?”
“He sent me an e-mail, asking to meet me alone.” Trick raised a hand when her eyes flared with anger. “I didn’t tell you because you would have insisted on coming, and then I wouldn’t have found out whatever it was that he wanted to say because he’d have minded his words in front of you.”
“And what did he want to say?” She clenched her hands when he hesitated. “Trick, tell me.” So he told her. And she gawked. “He offered you fifty thousand dollars to walk away from me?” Her wolf went stock-still.
“He said he was doing it at Marcia’s request, but he was lying. That was all him. She might have known about it—if she did, she’d probably even approved of it—but bribing me was his idea.” Trick rubbed at his jaw. The damn thing ached from how hard he’d ground his teeth. “He also did a background check on me. He found out about Jana—though he’d been told that she was truly my mate—and he threatened to tell you, thinking it would make me walk away so that you’d never have to know.”
Frankie should have been angry at the news. Instead the swell of emotions inside her just . . . deflated, leaving only the ache of betrayal. She wouldn’t have thought that Brad would ever do something so sly and devious—it seemed so out of character for him. But then, he’d lied to her all these years, hadn’t he? So maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised.
Trick tugged her closer. “I didn’t want to tell you about this, because I knew how much it would hurt you. But there shouldn’t be lies between mates. I won’t keep things from you.”
“You kept it from me until now. Yes, I know why. I also can’t disagree that you made a valid point: I would have insisted on going. He would never have said any of that shit in front of me.”
The pain in her eyes gutted Trick. He rested his forehead on hers. “I hate that they do this to you.”
Yeah, so did Frankie. She backed away, swallowing hard. “I’m going to sit out on the balcony for a while.” He moved so silently that she didn’t even realize he’d followed her until he took the patio chair beside hers.
At the impatient look she tossed at him, Trick raised his hands. “I won’t touch you, I won’t speak to you, but I also won’t leave you on your own. I’m here if you want to talk. If you don’t, that’s fine. But I don’t want you to be alone, so don’t ask me to move.”
She turned her gaze to the scenery. “Awkward fucker.”
“I’ve been called worse.” As he’d promised, Trick didn’t say a word as she simply sat there, facing the view, her gaze focused inward. That promise became harder to keep the longer she didn’t move. He didn’t know what was going on in her pretty little head, and he worried that it was something he wasn’t going to like.
Still, he kept his mouth shut and didn’t reach out to touch her as he so badly wanted to. No, not wanted. Needed. Not just to calm and reassure himself that she was physically fine, but because the drive to soothe pounded through him. He hated that she was hurting, hated that he couldn’t avenge that hurt.
His wolf wanted the freedom to hunt, mangle, and kill. Wanted to see and smell and taste Drake’s blood. Not even his mate’s presence was calming him or—
She straightened in her chair and twisted to face him. “Get ready.”
Trick blinked. “For what?”
“It should hit us any minute now.”
“What do you—?” Red-hot arousal slammed into him and flooded his system. Just like that, his blood thickened, his body tightened, and his cock filled to bursting. And then the drive to soothe her disappeared, completely drowned out by the urge to take and claim and mate. He double-blinked. “Fuck.”
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly bone-dry. “Yeah, we need to fuck.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They collided. Frankie didn’t remember getting to her feet. One second she’d been sitting on the chair, needing him so badly it hurt; the next thing she knew they were both standing upright and he was kissing the breath from her lungs.
Growling and groaning, they clawed off each other’s clothes. She fisted his cock—it was long and thick and warm—and began to pump. He thrust into her grip, sucking on her pulse and grunting into her neck.
She wanted his cock in her mouth. Needed him to feel her mouth around him. It was a primal thing she couldn’t quite explain, but it was all tied up in this undying need to brand him as hers.
Not much took Trick off guard, but he’d been so caught up in Frankie’s taste that he almost stumbled when she suddenly dropped to her knees. Her lips closed around the head of his cock, and her tongue licked and danced. “Suck,” he rumbled. But she didn’t. She ran her tongue along his length and lapped up the drop of pre-come. He growled. “I said suck it, not play with it.”
She finally took him in her mouth, and Trick fisted her hair. “Perfect for bunching in my hands while I fuck your mouth.” He pumped his hips, mesmerized by the sight of his cock disappearing between her lips over and over. “You still look so innocent, even with your mouth wrapped around my dick.” She swallowed, and her throat contracted around him. “Jesus. You’re going to make me come. I’m not ready yet.” He stilled his hips and tugged on her hair. “Get up.” The moment she was upright, he propped her on the patio table. “Lay back and spread your legs. My turn.”
Frankie shook her head. She loved his fingers and his tongue, but she didn’t have the patience for foreplay. Her pussy throbbed and ached. She wanted him in her, fucking her, claiming her.
Trick arched a brow. “I want the taste of you in my mouth. You can give it to me or I can take it.” Her eyes narrowed, but she lay back and spread her thighs. “Good girl.” He sank two fingers inside her. “Soaking wet.”
Frankie gripped the edges of the table as he lifted her hips and swiped his tongue through her folds. He growled, and his fingers bit into her as he feasted. He didn’t just lick and nip, he sucked at her folds, swirled the tip of his tongue around her clit, and repeatedly stabbed his tongue inside her. The friction built, wound her tighter and tighter, until she just couldn’t take any more. “Trick . . .” It was a warning. She was going to come.
Trick hooked her legs over his shoulders, sucked a nipple into his mouth, and plunged deep into her pussy. And she came. He ground his teeth, fighting the urge to explode along with her. His cock throbbed inside her, as if objecting to him holding back.
Panting, Frankie practically melted against the table. That had been one hell of an orgasm, but her pussy still ached. She got the feeling that the mating urge wouldn’t cool until he’d come deep inside her. “Fuck me.”
“Oh, I’ll fuck you all right.” He drew back until only the head of his cock was inside her, and then he slammed home. Her pussy clamped around him, so wet and tight it was sheer fucking heaven. And Trick lost all pretense of control. He brutally hammered into her. And that was no exaggeration. He’d been fighting the drive to claim her for weeks, and all that frustration poured out of him in a frenzy of violent thrusts. “Tell me to stop.” Hearing her say it would be the only thing that could ease that frenzy.
She shook her head, eyes glinting with panic. “No, don’t stop. God, don’t stop.”
Fuck. He kept on powering into her, branding her with every possessive stroke, driven by the need to claim and his wolf’s determination to take and own. “You looked so fucking good with my cock in your mouth. You’ll take it again. But next time, I’ll come down your throat.” Her pussy squeezed and fluttered around him.
As he stared down at her—taking in the gorgeous tattoos, the hot little piercing, the way her tits jiggled with each thrust, and the way her eyes glazed over—he felt his own release closing in on him.
He leaned over her. “Bite me,” he growled. “Mark me, Frankie.” He knew that the moment he sank his own teeth into her skin, the moment he finally claimed what belonged to him,
his cock would fucking detonate. He didn’t want to be midorgasm and half out of his mind when she claimed him; he wanted to feel every second of it. “Do it,” he growled.
Needing it as badly as he did, Frankie reared up and bit down hard on the crook of his neck, drawing blood—she sucked and licked, branding him, just as her wolf demanded.
“Fuck, baby.” He sucked her pulse into his mouth, felt it beating there hard and fast, and he sank his teeth down hard enough to break the skin. His release slammed into him, and he roughly rammed his cock deep as he exploded. Her pussy contracted around him as a scream tore from her throat and she came. All the while, he sucked and licked to leave that definite mark that would never fade, that would declare to the world that she belonged to him.
He collapsed over her, shuddering and gasping for breath. “Baby—” White-hot pain stabbed his head and pierced his chest. His breath seemed to stutter, and his vision dimmed. Beneath him, her back briefly arched, and then a gasp of wonder flew out of her. He knew why—because the pain quickly smoothed away as the mating bond now pulsed between them.
Satisfaction. Relief. Awe. Each emotion ballooned inside him. He’d known that the bond would make him feel utterly complete—she was the other half of his soul. But nothing could have prepared him for just how powerful the bond truly was. It soothed and anchored him. Gave him a sense of home that even his pack had never given him.
Trick cupped her face, stroking his thumb along her cheekbone and enjoying the soul-deep knowledge that this creature was and would always be his. No one would ever take her from him. No one. Never again. “You okay?”
“Uh-huh.” Frankie didn’t need to ask how he was feeling; masculine satisfaction and contentment buzzed down the bond, touching her mind as clearly as the pads of his fingers touched her face.
She hadn’t expected to be able to feel the bond so strongly, but it was as much a part of her as her limbs. She felt Trick everywhere, as if she now wore him as a second skin—it was hard to explain. She felt . . . centered. Balanced. Whole. Knew this bond would settle and steady her in a way that nothing else ever could have. Equally happy and tranquil, her wolf stretched out, lazy with utter contentment.
As his cock slipped out of her, Trick lifted her in his arms and carried her inside the room. Gently he lay her on the bed, keeping her close. “Now you’re irrevocably mine.”
He sounded so smug about it, but she was way too relaxed to care. She snuggled into him and doodled on his chest with her fingers. “I didn’t intend to leave you, bond or no bond.”
Trick almost snorted. He wouldn’t have let her leave him. He kissed her gently, sipping from her mouth. He liked her this way, muscles loose and limp, eyes heavy lidded and languid. “What brought that on? What made you reach for the bond?” he asked.
“It was a couple of things.”
Realizing she was tracing her name on his skin with her finger, he smiled. “Such as?”
“Well, I was sitting there, thinking of everything you told me, and I had to face that you were right. I wouldn’t find a way to make everyone happy. I had to do what was right for me and my wolf. I knew she was testing you to see if you were worthy, but I didn’t really understand it. Not until I realized she was ready to be claimed.”
“She was ready?”
“Not until today. You see, growing up, I didn’t have other shifters in my life. My maternal family didn’t fully accept me, and they sure as hell didn’t accept my wolf. She and I only really had each other. I was her protector, and she was mine. I guess she wasn’t prepared to give up that job unless it was to someone she felt could and would truly protect me. You did it when my grandfather came to my house. You did it at the funeral, when people were crowding me and I needed to get away. And you did it again today, when you scared Drake away and stayed with me. The whole staying-with-me part seemed to mean more to her.”
“It was important to her that you were my priority,” said Trick, understanding. “She needed to know that I’d put you first—including before my own anger and my own thirst for vengeance.” Because no one had put Frankie first in a very long time. He appreciated that her wolf was so protective of her, and it humbled him that the animal trusted him with Frankie.
“Although all those things you did meant something to me too, I was still holding on to the hope that I could make each side of my family accept the other. But then you told me what Brad did, and I realized that I was going to have to choose.” She rubbed her thumb over the brand she’d left on his neck, but she kept her eyes locked with his. “I chose you and whatever comes with you.”
Curving his hand around her nape, Trick kissed her. Consumed her. Relished the knowledge that she’d chosen him. He rested his forehead against hers. “I’m going to be hell to live with until the mating bond snaps fully into place. Even more ridiculously possessive and hyperprotective than I was before. I won’t like other males getting too close to you, especially if they’re unmated. My wolf will be just as intense about all this. Be patient with us.”
“I can’t promise that.” Frankie wasn’t known for her patience. “When will the bond fully snap into place?”
“When you let go of whatever’s blocking it.”
She frowned. “I’m not holding back from you.”
“No, but you’re holding back slightly from the bond.”
Frankie’s frown deepened as she thought on it. “I’m not doing it on purpose.” She tried to undo it, tried to figure why it was happening, but she couldn’t. “Seriously, Trick, I don’t mean to hold back. I don’t know how to fix it.”
“Shh, don’t panic.” Trick kissed her. “Give it time. We’ll work out what it is, and we’ll take care of it. But this isn’t something that can be rushed.” He lapped at his mark. There was a world of difference between knowing she was his and having that assurance that she was irreversibly his. That assurance both steadied and energized him. It was better than any drug. “I say we go outside and let our wolves run together.”
Frankie smiled. “She likes that idea.” As his hand slid from her nape to the back of her head where the wound had been, Frankie said, “It’s gone.”
“I know.” But Trick would never let it go. “I’ll make him pay,” he promised her.
“Okay. But can you fuck me again first?”
He smiled. “I don’t see why not.” He rolled on top of her, hiked her leg up, and smoothly drove inside his mate.
It took three days for Frankie to finish the hellhorse sculpture, but it was a further two days before she was willing to move it; she needed to be sure that the glue was dry. Trick hadn’t been happy about the delay, but he’d surprised her by not voicing his frustration. During that time he and some of the other Phoenix wolves had gradually moved her things to pack territory, including her completed sculptures.
She’d originally planned to sell the house, but Makenna asked if she would be willing to rent it out to a female from the shelter. Frankie agreed and intended to leave much of the furniture for her new tenant, who wouldn’t be moving into the house until the Drake situation had been taken care of.
According to Trey, Morelli had sounded pissed on hearing that Drake had harmed her. So pissed, in fact, that he’d cut the asshole completely loose. Once again, Drake was a lone shifter. Or so Morelli said, anyway. Neither Frankie nor Trick was convinced of that.
When the day finally arrived that the sculpture could be moved, Trick and some of the Phoenix wolves came to help Frankie pack up the last of her things and take her equipment from the studio. That was no doubt why Abigail looked completely perplexed when Marcus escorted her into the garden, where Frankie was supervising Ryan and Tao as they disassembled the hot tub—Trick wanted that for their balcony.
Frankie smiled at her agent. “Hey.”
Abigail glanced at the males taking apart the tub. “You’re moving, Frankie?”
“Yeah. I forgot to mention it on the phone.” More accurately, she’d been a little distracted by Trick’s ton
gue stabbing into her pussy. “This is Ryan and Tao, by the way.”
The antisocial Ryan did no more than grunt. Tao, not a fan of humans or anyone outside his pack, merely inclined his head.
“Where are you moving to?” Abigail asked her. “Please say New York, because it will mean I don’t need to keep flying over here to see you. And who is that guy who just escorted me out here?”
Frankie led her into the kitchen as she explained. “Marcus is a friend of mine. I’m not moving to New York, sorry. I’m staying in California. I’m actually moving to shifter territory.”
Abigail’s mouth fell open. “Shifter territory?”
“Yes. I found my mate. We’ve claimed each other. A lot of stuff has gone on and, um, well, it’s a long story.”
Abigail settled on a stool. “I have time.” After Frankie told her everything, her agent shook her head. “Wow. Do your grandparents know that the wolf claimed you?”
“Not yet. But they’ll know it’s pretty much inevitable. I haven’t heard or seen anything of them for a while now.”
“And this guy, Trick, is good to you?”
Frankie nodded. “Very. He badly wanted to claim me from the start, just like any shifter would do if they found their mate. But he was so patient with me. Didn’t push. Didn’t try to make me pick a side. I sensed he was getting impatient, but he never showed it.”
“You love him,” Abigail whispered.
“Maybe.”
Abigail lightly tapped a hand on the table. “Well, I’d like to meet him before you show me your latest sculpture. Is he here?”
“Yep. He’s in the studio.” Frankie walked ahead of her as they made their way into the studio, where he and a few others were moving the last of her equipment. “Trick?”
He turned to her, and his eyes softened. “Hey, baby, what do you need?”
“This is Abigail, my agent.” An agent who was currently looking a little tongue-tied. Frankie could hardly blame her, given that Trick had whipped off his shirt and there was a whole lot of muscle to admire.
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