Fire on the Moon

by Rebecca York

  Thank God.

  He slanted his lips over hers, angled his head, took her mouth in every way that he could, and when his tongue demanded entrance, she opened for him.

  Heat leaped inside him as he breached that barrier, reveling in the joy of tasting her.

  He wanted her to know what they meant to each other—what they would mean to each other.

  His hands slid down her body cupping her bottom so that he could pull her against his aching cock. He wanted her the way he had never wanted another woman. But pushing her into intimacy would be the biggest mistake of his life. Going any farther had to be her choice.

  When he finally lifted his head, the dazed expression in her eyes made his chest tighten. Probably he looked similarly gobsmacked. He had gotten into her bed to comfort her. He was feeling far from comfortable.

  He told himself he should stand up. Probably he should go into the bathroom and stick his head under a freezing shower. If you could get freezing water in Florida.

  “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

  “But it did.”

  She swallowed hard, and her voice softened. “I know. The weird thing is that I trust you. I’m not so sure about myself.” She paused, then murmured, “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

  As she came back into his arms, relief was like a spring thunderstorm pounding through him. He was frozen in place, and when he didn’t move, she lifted her face to his.

  A few minutes ago, he had kissed her with desperation. It had been the desperation of the wolf afraid he would lose his mate. Now he wanted her to know how good—how right—it could be between them.

  He kissed her softly, tenderly, forcing nothing, letting her silently take the lead.

  As their lips explored, her hands stroked restlessly over his back as though she wanted to memorize his contours. Eyes closed, he did the same, simply absorbing the feel of her.

  Once again he silently acknowledged that he needed her more than he had ever needed anyone in his life. And he sensed that she needed him with the same intensity because what they could give each other had become as necessary as breathing.

  He lifted his head, but only a fraction as his lips played with hers, thankful that he had brought her to this nicely appointed room and not some cheap motel off the highway.

  ###

  Francesca nestled in his arms. He had said they were bonded. Just that simple thought sent prickles of anticipation shimmering across his skin.

  “Turn on the light,” she murmured. “I want to see you. I want to see all of you.”

  He reached for the lamp on the table beside the bed. The flare of brightness made her blink but only for a moment. When she opened her eyes again, she saw he was watching her with the intensity of a wolf that had cornered his prey.

  The wolf? Why did she keep coming back to that feral animal?

  She should be afraid, but she kept her gaze fixed on him as she sat up, reached for the hem of her tee shirt, and pulled it over her head.

  The plain white bra she’d bought this morning wasn’t exactly fuck-me underwear, but the intimacy of revealing so much made her breath catch.

  “I thought you might be shy with me,” he said, his tone gritty.

  “I thought I might be, too. But I can’t muster any inhibitions.” She tried to sound bold, but she could hear the hint of a quaver in her voice.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes,” she answered when she knew it might be a lie.

  He sat up so that he could strip off his own tee shirt. She loved his broad chest. She hadn’t thought chest hair was exciting. It was on him.

  Reaching out, she stroked her lips against his shoulder and ran her fingers through that crisp dark chest hair, gratified that his breath caught. It caught again when she glided her fingertips across his nipples.

  Pulling her close, he reached for the clasp at the back of her bra and unhooked it. When he’d slipped the straps off her shoulders and tossed the garment to join the others on the floor, she could barely breathe.

  “Lord, you are gorgeous,” he murmured before lifting her breasts in his hands. She felt the tips go diamond hard from his touch. As he bent to suck one into his mouth, she cupped her hands around the back of his head.

  “That’s so good,” she murmured.

  He lifted his mouth away for a moment so he could say, “On this end, too.”

  She laughed, and he did also, telling her that they were on the same wavelength.

  He went back to his delicious attentions, and she arched into the caress, feeling the passion flaring between them.

  She kept her gaze on him as she tugged off her panties. Just removing that last bit of clothing made heat gather in her secret, feminine core.

  Her gaze locked to his, and she said, “I want you naked, too.”

  “Oh yeah,” he answered, doing as she asked.

  He was in her bed, naked and aroused, and she drank her fill of his magnificent body. Heat rose in his face, but he stayed where he was, letting her feast her gaze on him.

  “You are like a Greek statue,” she murmured. “Well, except for one thing. I never saw an ancient statue with a hard-on.”

  They both laughed again. As the tension broke, he rolled to his side and gathered her to him.

  The feel of his skin against hers was glorious. She pressed against him for long moments before drawing back as his hand slipped between them, playing over her breasts. He stroked them, reshaped them to his touch, and then drew small and smaller circles around her nipples, until his fingers slid against the sides of those hardened tips.

  She gasped at his knowing touch, then gasped again as his thumbs and fingers closed around the throbbing points of pleasure.

  “Oh.”

  One of his hands traveled lower, finding all the sensitive places that were responding so willingly to his touch.

  She felt herself tremble as his fingers slid over her belly, tangled in the curly hair at the juncture of her legs, then slipped lower into the warm folds of her feminine flesh.

  She lifted her hips, wordlessly telling him that she wanted more.

  He raised up on one elbow, his hot gaze burning into hers.

  “Please, don’t make me wait.”

  But he did make her wait while he pushed her higher and higher until she knew she was almost at the breaking point.

  He knew it too, because he covered her body with his. When his cock filled her, she was lost to everything but the wonder of the moment.

  She took him deeply into herself, embracing the knowledge that their joining was so much more than physical pleasure.

  When he stilled, her fingers dug into his buttocks. “Please.”

  He looked down at her for a long moment as though committing this joining to memory. Then he began to move, and she knew he was trying to keep his movements slow. She clung to him, raising her hips, following his rhythm as she felt small tremors shake her. They built to earthquake proportions, exploding through her in a shower of pleasure. Her climax sent his hips pumping, and moments later she heard his shout of satisfaction.

  They were both slick with sweat when he rolled to his side, kissing her, keeping his arms around her. She snuggled against him, marveling at how content, how complete she felt.

  ###

  Zane didn’t have to ask, “Was it good for you?”

  He knew it was because of the way she cuddled into him, limp and satisfied.

  He wanted to turn off his brain and sink into sleep holding her in his arms. But too many thoughts were vying for attention in his mind.

  They were on the run from professional killers, and he had let his guard slip. If the men who had been after them had come through the door a few moments ago, he wouldn’t have been able to do much about it.

  He cursed himself, and she must have sensed his change of mood.

  “What?”

  “I rushed you into making love, and I should be trying to figure out why you’re in danger.�
�

  She gave him an indignant look. “You didn’t rush me into anything. I made it damn near impossible for you to do anything else.”

  “Why?”

  She kept her gaze on him. “You said we had bonded. I wanted to know if it was true.”

  “Was it?”

  “Yes.” She looked away. “And that kind of scares me.”

  “Yeah.”

  “It scares you, too?”

  “Yes, because it’s only going to happen to me once.”

  Her breath caught.

  “And that means guarding you has become the most important thing in the world. Now I know I need to keep my head screwed on straight.” He clenched his hands at his sides. “I wasn’t acting much like a bodyguard just now.”

  “I pushed you.”

  “I let myself be pushed. It won’t happen again.”

  She made a small sound that tore at him. “Let’s hope that’s not true. It would be a shame to be bonded with a man who was only going to make love to me once.”

  “You know what I mean. I want you out of danger first.”

  There were a lot more things he wanted to say, but he knew he couldn’t. Maybe if he told her she’d just made love with a werewolf that would change her perspective. But he wasn’t willing to risk revealing that piece of information. What if he told her, and he lost her?

  Chapter Nine

  Zane climbed out of her bed and went back to his own. He didn’t turn his head, but he felt her staring at him. Closing his eyes, he tried to get back to sleep, but that was impossible.

  When light seeped in at the edge of the blackout curtain, he got up.

  Seeing her looking at him, he said, “ I need to check my mail.” It was true but it was also a way to cut off personal conversation.

  “Sure. I’ll get dressed.”

  She got up, opened the suitcase and took out some clothes, then disappeared into the bathroom. As he heard the water running in the shower, he pictured her naked and stepping under the water. When he started getting turned on again, he ruthlessly switched his attention to his e-mail and found a communication from Teddy Granada at Decorah.

  Using FBI and local law enforcement databases, Teddy had been able to identify one of the men in the pictures. He was Conrad Tuckerman, called Connie for short, and he’d been in and out of trouble with the law for years. He was suspected of a couple of murders although there had never been enough evidence to arrest him. He was also known to hang out at a local bar in town called the Tin Man, which took its name from a nearby shopping mall called Tin City. The buildings of the rambling downscale mall were all made of corrugated tin.

  Zane figured his best bet was to check out the bar, but first he wanted to switch cars, since Tuckerman and his friends were very familiar with his current rental.

  Francesca came out of the bathroom, dressed in her short pants and another tee shirt they’d bought the day before.

  “I’ll get ready, and we can go to breakfast,” he said.

  She nodded, and he noted from her expression that she seemed to be back in the mode where she was pretending they were just friends sharing this room. Well, that’s what he’d said he wanted. Still, he couldn’t help feeling the sting of her indifference.

  As he gathered up his own clothes and stepped into the bathroom, he wished he’d talked to his brother or some of his cousins about how they’d handled things when they’d bonded with their mates.

  But that wasn’t something that werewolves talked about. In the wild, a wolf pack was led by an alpha male and all the other wolves were subservient to him. It was different with werewolves, who had all descended from one man who had begged the ancient gods for powers beyond the human. In getting his wish, he’d acquired the ability to shape-shift, and his male descendants carried a gene for lycanthropy.

  But unlike with wolves in the wild, shape-shifters were all alpha males, each one the leader of his own pack. Before he bonded, it was a pack of one. When he had a wife and family, they were the members of his pack. Zane knew that in generations past, the alpha werewolf lorded it over his family. Modern guys were more enlightened. Also, not so long ago, the alpha males didn’t get along with each other. But in this case, Frank Decorah had helped them learn how to work together—although there were still challenges when one wolf thought another had stepped over the line.

  This history meant that the Marshall men didn’t share a lot of personal information with each other. He’d seen a transformation in his brother, Knox, when he’d come home from Western Maryland with a mate. But Zane had sensed his brother didn’t want to talk about the bonding process, partly because some very bad guys had put him into a drugged stupor before he’d met Maggie. And Zane wasn’t going to call him up now for advice. That wasn’t the way of the alpha male.

  He finished showering and dressing and came out of the bathroom. For a moment of panic, he didn’t see Francesca in the room. Then he realized that she was on the balcony, leaning on the railing and staring out at the Gulf. There were other hotel guests also enjoying the Florida morning, and his first thought was to rush outside and herd her back inside. But he curtailed the impulse. Instead he opened the sliding glass door and asked,

  “Ready for some breakfast.”

  “I guess.” She stepped back into the room and closed the door behind her.

  “I want to make a stop on the way.”

  “Where?”

  “There’s a car rental office off the hallway that leads to the restaurant. If I get a different car, the bad guys will have less chance of spotting us driving around town.”

  “Are we driving around town?”

  He cursed himself for having voiced part of his plans. “I have a lead on one of the men who showed up at my rental yesterday. I need to check it out.”

  “Not by yourself.”

  He gave her a hard look. “I’m not putting you at risk again—not when you’re safe here.”

  “You don’t have a choice, because you’re not going to leave me hiding in a posh hotel while you go out and do your detective work.”

  He struggled not to clench his teeth. He should have kept his mouth shut, but there was no point in arguing with her now.

  After he’d reserved a car, they headed for the dining room where the woman at the hostess station greeted them like old friends. And as they took a table against a wall, he saw a fair number of the same faces as the night before.

  He didn’t like it. And he didn’t like that the woman who’d given them their menus was now talking to the hostess. They both glanced in his and Francesca’s direction then quickly away when they saw he’d noticed the attention.

  Shit. What was that about? Were they speculating on their marital status or what? The Ritz-Carlton might be an upscale little enclave at the water’s edge in Naples, but anyone could mention the couple they had seen there. That might have been a paranoid thought, but he wasn’t going to dismiss paranoia when it might keep Francesca alive.

  Traditional breakfast food had never been a favorite of Zane’s. He ordered steak and eggs and left most of the food on his plate, while Francesca packed away an order of fruit and pancakes.

  They spoke little during the meal and were in and out of the restaurant and back in their room in under forty minutes, partly because he was constantly scanning the dining room instead of talking to her.

  As soon as the bedroom door closed behind them, she whirled toward him. “Why were you watching everybody down there?”

  “Because some of them noticed us.”

  “I thought you said this place was safe.”

  “I thought so. Now I think we’re too conspicuous. I think it’s better if we move somewhere more private.”

  She folded her arms across her middle as he pulled out his phone and got Teddy at Decorah.

  “I’d like some help with rental properties,” he told the Decorah IT guy.

  “Not exactly my specialty.”

  “But it’s better if I don’t leave a tra
il of requests for information around the Internet.”

  “Right.”

  “I don’t suppose you can find me a cabin in a swamp.”

  “Doubtful.”

  “Well, if we can’t disappear into the wilderness, can you give me a line on houseboat and cabin cruiser rentals in the area, in marinas that are off the beaten track?”

  “Let me send the listings to our Dropbox. That way nobody can see it but Decorah personnel.”

  “Good idea. And include the specs on the marinas.”

  Zane booted his laptop and waited for a Dropbox entry with pictures of the crafts available at various marinas.

  The first one came through in about twenty minutes with a notation that more would follow.

  After looking at pictures of boats and taking a couple of virtual tours, he had Teddy do the booking.

  When he finished, he looked up to find Francesca watching him.

  “Are you going to let me in on your deliberations?” she inquired.

  “You probably gathered from my end of the conversation that I want to move us to a boat.”

  “If you’re worried about people seeing us around the hotel, we could hang a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door and stay in here making love.”

  Her words sent a very enticing picture leaping into his mind—the two of them in the closest bed, her body under his—but he wasn’t going to take the bait.

  They stared at each other across six feet of charged space. He wanted to respond to the challenge she’d tossed him. But last night had been a slip in judgment on his part, and it wasn’t going to happen again until he knew killers weren’t coming after her.

  He wouldn’t let himself turn away. Instead he forced himself to keep facing her as he took a few moments to get his hormones under control. Finally he said, “We’ve rented a cabin cruiser in an out-of-the-way marina where we won’t be seeing a lot of people. If we’re lucky, the mobsters will think we cleared out of town.”

  “And went where?”

  “Back north.”

  “How did we get away? Don’t you think they’re watching the airports and the car rental companies?”