by Selena Blake
“Please what, amour?” he asked between kisses.
“Let me go,” she said, finally finding her strength. Her body cried out for her to stop, but she commanded her feet to move. Stepping past him, she started for the line of trees on the other side of the rest stop. She had to get away from him, clear her head. Find the right words. He was like a drug that clouded her brain. Threatened her sanity.
Her footsteps in the grass moved away from the sound of traffic on the highway. As she slipped through the first row of trees she realized she wasn't alone with her thoughts.
Though he said nothing, she could hear André following her. The woodsy scent reminded her of the days when they used to meet in the forest. She'd waited for him there. Waited to step into his strong arms, place her hands against the solid wall of his chest and beg him to take her.
To make love to her. To complete her in a way only he could.
She bit her knuckles and forced herself to keep moving; sticks snapped beneath her feet. Tears filled her eyes. Why was this happening? Why now? Hadn't she suffered enough?
André followed Juliette across the rest stop and into the woods. He could hear her quiet sobs and each one stabbed into him like a knife. He'd never meant to hurt her. He wasn't even sure how he'd hurt her. But she was hurting, crying. Her shoulders were slumped and quivering. He reached out and touched her mind. Her thoughts were tangled with emotions. Chaotic. Full of pain and questions. And so much shame. She was worried…about her betrayal?
That made him pause for a moment. She had betrayed no one.
He kept searching her mind. Deep down hid a kernel of hope.
He found her leaning against a pine tree deep in the forest. Her head was bowed and she wiped at her eyes. Motionless, he watched her, waited for her to say something. Now that she knew the truth about what had happened to him that night, and what had happened to her family, relief swept through him. No more secrets. She still had so much to grieve for though.
He knew he should give her time to heal. Space so she could process everything she’d learned. Centuries of lies and bitterness could be laid to rest.
But he couldn’t find it in himself to let her cry alone. No matter what she’d said, done, in the past he found himself sympathizing with what she’d been through.
Finally she looked up.
“How did everything go so wrong? How could I have lived with him all those years and not known the truth?”
“He didn't want you to know, cheri.”
She stared up at the sky and blinked away her tears. “You'd think I would have smelled Leon's blood on his hands. He fooled us all. My parents. Everyone.”
He remained silent.
“He didn't fool you, did he?”
André put his hands on his hips and stared down at the pine needles littering the forest floor. “I always suspected that he wasn't right. In the head. That night, when your brothers came after me, he was the ringleader. But almost terrified of throwing a punch.”
“All brains and no brawn,” Juliette murmured.
Unable to help himself, André stared at her lips, torn between standing fast and offering her comfort. But she didn't want him. For all his cunning, he was really dumb. Not five minutes ago she'd pushed him away, told him to let her go. How many times did he have to be told?
Even after all this time, it hurt like hell. Worse than any wound he’d ever received in battle.
“Do you think there will be anything left?” she asked as he turned away from her. “After the storm, I mean.”
“Depends on where it hits.” There was a long pause.
“I don't think I'll care if the whole thing gets blown away.” She gave a harsh little laugh. “Between the sinking ship that is the family business—” That confession had him looking over his shoulder at her. “Losing everyone I ever loved...losing the house won't hurt so much. I'm pathetic, I know.”
The way she was staring at him made him wonder if she included him in her list of those she'd loved and lost. Would he ever understand women?
“A fresh start, isn't dat what you wanted?”
“Doing what? I'm a werewolf with no pack. No family. No career. And pretty soon, I may be homeless.”
“You could always go back to France,” he said, hating the very idea.
After a long silence she said, “France is home to Vassar Enterprises...as for me, I'm not sure where home is.”
That made two of them.
“What will you do once you sell Deveraux Shipping?” She wiped away a tear with the backs of her fingers.
Her question startled him. Not because he hadn't thought about it, but because she was thinking about it. He wanted to believe her inquiry meant she was interested in his future, in being a part of his future, but he wasn't about to get his hopes up. Not yet anyway. Not with her still playing hot and cold.
Who the hell was he kidding? Where Juliette was concerned, his hopes were perpetually up.
“Travel.”
Alone? She wanted to ask. She thought back to all the years she'd been surrounded by her family, a part of the Pack. She realized now that her love for André had separated her from everyone. She'd always been alone. Always holding a piece of herself back. A piece that had gone missing when she'd pushed him away.
She was tired of being lonely. Of being alone. Of sleeping in a cold, empty bed. Solitary meals. If she reached out to him now, would he accept her? Physically they were still a perfect match...but did he still love her? Could he believe her? Would he push her away?
He must absolutely hate her.
“I tried,” he said and she realized she'd spoken aloud. “God help me, I tried.”
She swallowed hard as he turned back to her.
“Can you ever forgive me?” she asked quietly, afraid of the answer. She'd betrayed their love, chosen her family above him. What kind of person was she to stare true love in the face and hand it back?
He cupped her cheek in his hand. She leaned into his warmth. The call of a hunter. Instead of answering, he lowered his head and claimed her lips. His arms wrapped around her, cradling her. Once again she was swept away by a sweet tide, a tenderness that made her feel cherished.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, calling herself a fool and worse. Why had she ever let him go? Why had she pushed him away? She should have known better. He was her family. He was the only one who mattered and he always had been.
From that first day they'd met, he'd been steadfast in his love. Devoted. Passionate. And God help her, she'd shredded his love.
Crying out, she tore her lips from his.
“Did I hurt you?” He loosened his grip on her waist. She shook her head. In all the years she’d known André, the only time he’d ever hurt her was when he’d never answered her letters. All those years she’d written to him, somehow expecting him to forgive what she’d made him do. Forgive her.
She stared at André's lips. Her body cried out to feel his possession once again. He was right. He had changed. Where he'd once stormed her defenses like a battering ram, he now chipped away at the shell around her heart, slowly warming her. Lulling her into temptation.
She leaned into him, relishing the feel of all his hard muscles beneath her hands. He cupped the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as his tongue plunged between her lips. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and her breasts crushed against the solid wall of his chest.
Delicious. Absolutely delicious.
Love filled her, warmed her, washed away all the anger and the pain. She felt like she'd just stepped from the shadows of hell into the sunlight. Everything would be okay. Whatever the future brought she'd meet head-on. She would win back his love. She would fight for him. She would seduce him.
His lips trailed down the column of her neck. Her body remembered his bite. She felt the invisible mark sizzle just beneath the skin of her neck. She'd bound herself to him that day, taken him as her mate for all time when she'd taken him inside of
her, submitted to him. He brushed her hair aside and traced the path where his teeth had sunk in with his tongue.
God, she craved him. Wanted him. No. Needed him. Her hardened nipples brushed against his chest, her hips pressed against him, cradling his erection. She sank her fingers into his hair and kissed every inch of him that she could reach. The newfound tenderness disappeared and their old passion returned.
Vibrant. Needy. Fast. They touched and kissed everywhere, a frenzy of desire taking over like a breaking damn.
“Make love to me, André,” she whispered against his lips.
He went perfectly still. For a moment she thought he hadn't heard her, but then he backed them up until her back hit a tree.
“No.” He broke the kiss and stared down at her. The word ripped through the fog of lust.
“No?” she echoed. Bewildered, she stared up at him, then to the left and right. Was he afraid someone would see them? Hear them? She couldn't even see the highway from here. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.
He released his grasp on her hair. “No. I won't make love to you. Making love implies I love you. And you love me.”
“I—“ He held a finger to her lips, silencing her protest. She felt all the love and hope freeze inside her.
“Your emotions are raw and you’re confused. You’re horny. You’ll get over it.” He turned away from her, leaving her to stumble against the tree.
“You son of a—” She lunged at him. He turned as if he’d known what she would do before she did it and caught her against him. They toppled backward. Andre took most of the blow but quickly turned her beneath him, holding her hostage against the soft grass.
“Bitch? How right you are.” He stared at her lips.
“Let me go!” Her eyes burned, but no tears came.
“I told you, you should have stayed away from me, Juliette. Problem is, now that I've had a taste I don't want to let you go. Are you wet for me, cheri?”
She wanted to deny it. Vehemently. Tell him that she was dry as sand and that she'd never be wet for him again. But that was a lie even she couldn't tell. And it wouldn't matter any way. He was a werewolf. He could smell her desire just as easily as she could smell his.
The intoxicating concoction that fizzled through his blood made her want to lick him. Nibble him. Get down on her knees and make him take his words back. He had to love her.
Didn't he? Had he forgotten? They were mates. He was hers and she was his. She bit her lower lip and blinked back tears.
If they weren't together they couldn't be with anyone else. That's the way it worked. Werewolves mated for life and she'd attached herself to this one.
Two hundred years ago.
Two hundred years was a long time to go without her other half.
“I can smell you, petite. Don't bother to deny it.” He shifted their position and held her arms high over her head. She fought him but was no match for his strength. Something rough scraped her skin. His other hand smoothed down her stomach and rubbed against the apex of her thighs.
“Mmm.” Juliette couldn't stop the sound humming up her throat. She hated her weakness. She hated that he made her want him even as he was breaking her heart. Her whole body called out to his. If she'd been a feline she would be purring, loudly, at this point.
André's hand traveled farther south until it snagged the hem of her skirt and pulled it upward. Cool evening air rushed against her skin.
“Still soft as a kitten,” he murmured and nuzzled her cheek.
Oh André.
Yes, petite?
Damn, he was reading her mind. Not good. Not good at all. Quickly she steeled herself.
“Why won't you let me in, cheri?” His hand trailed over her hip until he encountered her panties. “Could it be because I'll find out all your secrets?”
She gritted her teeth. “You just told me you don't love me and you wonder why I won't let you in...”
She saw it then, the lines of tension in his face, the lie in his eyes. He was playing her, trying to make her believe she didn't matter, that he didn't love her. He was making her work for it. He’d always been too smart, a master manipulator.
She supposed she deserved that. And more. She had one more secret to tell before everything would be open between them. But for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out how to say the words.
He hooked his thumb over the thin fabric and she sucked in a breath. He looked at her through hooded eyes.
“I don’t think you want me to make love to you sweetheart. What I think you need is a good fuck. Like old times. Hard, fast, before anyone can catch us.” His voice was quiet, rough.
She huffed out a breath. “You crass—“
“Bastard? You’re right about that too.”
Now was certainly not the time to divulge her secrets or declare her feelings. The wolf inside her wanted the same thing he did. That hard, fast fuck on the forest floor. One that would relieve all the stress of the day and surely please her.
She shifted her hips against his erection, a sign she knew his wolf wouldn’t miss. With her head cradled against his arm she stared up into the same dark eyes she had all those years ago as she’d declared she would love him forever.
His free hand snaked up her body and closed over her breast. He leaned in close, hot breath fanning against her cheek.
Closing her eyes, she remembered that moment. How powerful she’d felt, how secure in her love. They’d been made for each other he’d said. Two sides to the same coin. Somehow things had gone awry.
She wouldn't be so easily swayed again, not by him or anyone else. She wouldn’t let him scare her off or change her mind. For once she was going to fight to the death for what she believed in.
And she believed in him. Her. Them.
“I will fuck you until you scream my name,” he whispered, taunting the beast inside her.
“And you will scream mine,” she whispered back, pressing herself against him again. Then she claimed his lips, letting her love and passion surround him. Shamelessly she pressed herself into his palm. He pinched and tugged at her nipple, priming her.
“Mmm,” she moaned and nipped his chin.
Damn, she'd missed this. Missed him. She'd be lying if she denied it.
His teeth grazed the tender flesh at her neck and she tipped her head in the other direction to give him better access.
For a brief moment Juliette had let him in and her voice had resounded through his mind like a siren song. But just as quickly she'd shut him out. She was hiding from him. Planning something. André didn't like it.
She would pay for that. Slowly.
He licked her skin. She tasted delicious, rich, sweet, feminine. Everything he remembered. Her scent—warm, aroused woman—filled his lungs. He sucked softly, but hard enough to leave a mark. She made soft mewing sounds in her throat and rubbed her torso against his. Her wrists twisted in his hand and he tightened his hold.
Clutching the fabric of her panties he gave it a good, hard jerk. He tossed the scrap to the ground and sank his fingers into her flesh again.
“You won't be needing those anymore.” Her startled gaze met his. “In fact, I don't think you should wear underwear ever again.”
“André—”
He cut her off with a kiss. His tongue swept inside her mouth, searching, tasting. She quieted instantly, went slack against him. Her tongue touched his hesitantly.
It felt so good to hold her, to put his hands wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. To kiss her like he'd dreamed of doing for far too long. He nibbled at her lips, reminding her how much he wanted her. Telling her without words that he wanted to eat her up.
She startled him by sucking his bottom lip into the warmth of her mouth and biting down gently. He pressed against her, crushing her against the ground. She winced and he pulled back.
Before he could apologize, she kissed him, full on, tongue-in-his-mouth kissed him. He'd always loved this feisty side of her nature. The surpr
ises she gave him.
She hooked a leg over his hip, opening herself in a way he found impossible to resist. He let go of her breast and slid his fingers toward the tangle of curls between her thighs...only...there were no curls. A growl rumbled through his chest. Slick, smooth skin parted beneath his fingers. He sank them deep inside her, relished the breathy gasp on her lips.
“I told you you'd get soaked,” he whispered against her ear. She jerked her hands from his and reached for the button of his slacks. She made quick work of freeing him. Her hands were cool around his cock, small and smooth. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck.
“I've waited a long time for this...to feel you inside me again.”
Her words pleased him more than she could ever know.
Wordlessly, he lifted her hips, and angled his cock at the entrance of her pussy. He held it there, watching her face, the passion in her eyes. She licked her well-kissed lips.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked.
Words that would never come. “Nothing.”
He thrust inside her. The warm wet walls of her pussy clutched him, swamped him with sensations he hadn't felt in forever. Sensations that almost made his knees collapse. He adjusted his stance and began a slow in and out rhythm.
A moan tore from her lips, and her fingers dug into his shoulders. Her legs locked around his hips. They fit together like two pieces that made up one puzzle. Everything felt right. For the first time in centuries he dared to hope.
“I have to taste you, petite.” He stopped his thrusts just long enough to pull her shirt up and the cup of her bra down. He stared at the delicate peak in the darkness. Memories flooded his mind, memories of her blossoming into womanhood, giving herself to him, taunting and teasing him with her delicious ripe body. Unable to think straight, he dipped his head and suckled her into this mouth. She was both satiny soft and rigid. Back and forth he laved her with his tongue, heard as much as felt her breathless little pants for air, the husky words of encouragement.
Sated for the moment, he let her nipple pop from his mouth...then he sank into her again.