A rock of emotion balled in her throat. “I’ve never touched a Wolf before.” She didn’t want to stop.
She shook her head. “I don’t want this.” But her treacherous fingers kept stroking the Wolf. Stroking Ross.
He seemed to enjoy her touch and shifted closer, stretching his body to rest against her legs, passive and relaxed. She petted him with broad sweeps of both hands, leaning toward him until the fur on his neck tickled her nose.
He smelled of mountain air and pine trees. His woodsy scent soothed her frayed nerves and attempted to silence her worried mind. Ross was right. She heard her gut—her inner Wolf—loud and clear. I can trust him. And more…. He’s mine.
A sudden sense of belonging struck her. Was this what she’d missed growing up among humans? Without her Wolf father, without this connection? She bet the Wolves here didn’t spend every full moon locked in a basement on drugs. She bet they spent the nights together as a pack, a family, running in the mountains, howling, hunting, sharing the magic of it all.
Sudden tears pricked behind her eyes, and her mind churned. As much as she wanted her Wolf side to disappear and leave her alone, as much as she yearned for a normal life, how would her life be if she took what Ross had to offer her, what the pack had to offer? Could she continue living a life with one foot in both worlds? Did she want to? Then again, she might not have to choose. Her next shift might kill her, and then she’d have no place in either world.
She cleared her throat, but the action failed to clear the conflicting needs battering her heart. She wrapped her arms around Ross’s huge neck and buried her face against him. He smells like home.
“No. I don’t want this,” she repeated. Can’t want this. Shouldn’t want this. Ashland was home. Aunt Jessica was home.
But her arms tightened around the Wolf, around Ross, and she curled up against his big Wolf body and cried.
Chapter Six
Ross let out a whimper as his mate clung to him, sobbing into his fur, wetting it with her tears.
He wanted to shift to his human form, gather her close, and soothe her. But she seemed to need this connection to his Wolf, had said she’d never touched one before. Her isolation and loneliness tore at his heart.
Sure, he’d lived his life among humans, but he’d had his brother and sister, his parents, and assorted Los Lobos ex-pat friends. He also had many friends from the southern-Indiana Wolf packs. Ran with them for many full moons in Hoosier National Forest. He’d had community, while Darci had none.
Well, she was here with him now.
Her sobs slowed. She sucked in a big, shaky breath, her body limp with fatigue. He shifted from his Wolf. Man again, he scooped her into his arms, scooting to lean against the window. She let out a sad little hiccup and wound her arms around his neck, cuddling close.
His heart swelled at her sign of trust. He tucked her head under his chin and stroked her hair. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. You’ll be okay.” He could hold her this way forever.
Cinder curled up next to them, purring loudly. The storm had finally ceased its caterwauling, reduced to a gentle patter plinking on his deck and house. No more thunder. He listened to the crackling of the fire, Darci’s steadier breathing and occasional sniffle, and the kitten’s rugged purrs. Contentment stole into his chest, and he rode the perfection of this moment, holding his mate.
“You did that so easily.” She spoke into his chest, her breath hot against his shirt.
He cupped her head, his other hand smoothing up and down her spine. “Did what, Moonbeam?”
“Shifting.”
The way she spoke meant it likely didn’t happen so easily for her. “How is it for you?”
“It’s…bad. That’s why I came here. Why my dad sent me here. Sort of. And no, I don’t hear dead people. He left me a note. And a map to get here.”
“I see.” He moved his legs.
She straightened on his lap and gave him a small, embarrassed smile. “Sorry about crying all over you. I’m not usually so fragile.”
He trailed a knuckle down her damp cheek. “No worries.”
Quite the opposite. He’d prefer to be the sole person she turned to for comfort, the one person allowed to cuddle her, kiss her pale skin, and more. He gave her good eye contact. “I have to be honest with you. I’ve never met your dad. Don’t know why he told you to trust me, but I’m glad he did.”
Her face scrunched. “He said trust only Luparell and Gee. You know, maybe he meant your father. You’re too young for my dad to have known you. Maybe our parents knew each other.”
“You’re probably right.” He made a mental note to call his parents, find out everything he could about Darci’s family. Maybe his father knew something helpful. Such as what had happened to make hers leave the pack behind. And why her father had told her to trust exactly two men from the vast community. The request seemed to indicate her father didn’t trust anyone else in the Los Lobos pack. Which meant, until he spoke to his own father, neither could Ross.
The thought sat heavily on his shoulders. But then his sweet little mate wiggled her lush ass, diverting his attention. His cock hardened. He shot to his feet, taking her with him and setting her on her feet, putting distance between their bodies. Didn’t want to scare her or push her out of their newfound comfort zone.
Baby steps. That’s what they needed. They certainly didn’t need him to rip off her pants and bury his face deep in her folds, taste her, lick her, bring her to orgasm before he buried his cock deep in her wet heat.
He stifled a groan. She sniffled and shifted her weight onto one foot, the movement flipping him to concern. “Ankle hurting?”
“A little,” she admitted.
“Right.” He swept her up and carried her to the couch.
“I can walk,” she protested, but wound her arms around his neck, her body relaxing against his.
“Nope.” He placed her lengthwise on his couch then propped a puffy burgundy pillow under her foot. “Let’s have a look.”
He palpated her ankle area and watched her face for signs of discomfort. Slightly swollen. Minimal bruising on the outer ankle. She winced when he touched her there. She was lucky it hadn’t been worse.
“Stay. I’ll get you some ice.” Should have done it sooner, idiot. He straightened, working damn hard to resist kissing the top of her pale foot smelling of his citrus bath soap and delicious woman. She’d painted her toenails a rich purple color.
“That your favorite color?” she asked.
She a mind reader? “What, purple?”
She shook her head and pointed at the pillow cushioning her foot. “Burgundy. Your towels, throw pillows upstairs, and here.”
Observant woman. “It is. Be right back.”
“Can I have my laptop, too?” she called after him.
“Sure thing, Moonbeam.”
“Darci. My name is Darci,” she muttered, sounding not particularly put out.
He grinned. God, she’d be a fun one to tease. Every day for the rest of his life.
When he returned to the couch with an ice gel pack and her laptop, Cinder had taken up residence on her legs, one serious purring machine. He draped the pack across Darci’s foot. “He really likes you.”
“He’s a sweet kitty.”
“Actually, he’s not. At least not with anyone but me. Usually.” He plucked up the cat and set him on the floor. Cinder mewled his protest and attempted to jump up, but Ross placed the laptop in his way. The pesky, persistent bundle planted himself on Darci’s shins instead and bumped his head against the edge of the laptop.
She laughed at Cinder’s antics. “Then I’m honored.” She smiled up at him, making her tear-reddened eyes shine. “I should check in with my aunt. She’s probably out of her mind with worry. I promised to text or chat at least once a day, and I haven’t talked to her at all today.”
“You have a good excuse for your tardiness.”
“True, but still, my bad. I could’ve called her before I start
ed my trek to town.” She unzipped her laptop case and pulled out her computer. “Wi-Fi?”
He logged her onto his network. “I’ll give you some privacy. Need to clean the kitchen, anyway.”
As he stalked away, she called after him. “Thanks, Ross. For everything.”
“My pleasure.” He didn’t look at her, not sure she’d enjoy his satisfied grin. Little mate, we’re just getting started with ‘everything.’
***
Darci closed her laptop. Her text chat with Aunt Jessica had gone as expected with the requisite freak-out about Darci’s unusual radio silence during the day. She’d calmed quickly enough once Darci explained she’d found both Gee and Luparell and was staying at the Luparell house. Of course, to avoid a stranger-danger lecture from her protective aunt, Darci had made it sound as if the whole family lived here.
Her aunt wouldn’t understand the deep sense of trust that had bloomed in Darci when Ross had shifted in front of her eyes. When she’d sunk her hands into his fur. When she’d breathed in his soothing, earthy scent. When he’d let her cry all over him then held her so tenderly afterward.
Amazing how she could feel so trusting of and connected to a man she’d known for only a handful of hours. Her brain didn’t understand it at all, but her inner Wolf seemed to. How odd to pay attention to this part of herself after fighting against it since puberty, locked up for every full moon. Speaking of, the next one was two nights away but Ross had shifted without its magic pull. Could she do it, too? Flow like water from one form to another—complete with clothing—the way Ross did?
Her hands fisted, nails scratching along the lid of her laptop. No. She couldn’t let this tempt her from finding a cure for shifting. She’d suffered for years. It was time to make it stop. The wolves would help her, she’d have a fun fling with her new, sexy friend Ross, and then she’d leave. Go home to her human life. A life without Ross.
A jolt of pain socked her gut, and she pressed a fist against her belly. Why did the thought of leaving him make her want to lose her dinner?
Darci put her laptop on the nearby coffee table. Her move disturbed a slumbering Cinder. The kitten woke with a start and darted off her legs, leaving a blazing trail of painful heat on Darci’s shin. At her hiss, the clatter from Ross’s kitchen cleaning halted, and he stepped into view by the dining table, holding a blue-and-white checked dishtowel. “You okay?”
Darci joined him, bending to rub her shin. “Kitty clawed me when he jumped off me.” At his scowl, she rushed to add, “It was an accident. I startled him awake.”
He harrumphed and picked her up by the waist, setting her on the table.
Her pulse picked up its pace at the memory of the last time she sat on this table. With his big, strong hands on her body, his lips locked with hers then his mouth delivering sweet torment to her breasts.
“I’m okay.” She didn’t sound breathy. Not at all.
He ignored her and pulled up her pant leg. Four, angry red lines streaked her skin. “Didn’t break your skin. Burns, though, I bet.”
“It does.”
“Stay put. I have something to help.” He moved to the stove and broke off a bit from the plant sitting next to it, then returned and knelt in front of her, squeezing the piece of plant, forcing a stream of liquid onto her skin. “Aloe,” he explained, smoothing the soothing gel over her scratches.
“I know. Thank you.” She bit her lip at the sensual feel of his big hand, so gentle as it moved over her leg, his other cupping her calf in a firm, warm grip. Everywhere he touched, her skin tingled like a Fourth of July sparkler. She closed her throat on a moan, enjoying the pampering and the heady feelings unfurling inside her.
He kept his head lowered, his attention fully focused on her leg. The recessed lighting above the dining table brought out gold-and-red highlights in his warm-brown hair. She’d love to stroke those silky, straight locks curtaining his face. Tuck them behind his ear. Trail kisses along his strong, tan jaw to his mouth. Instead, she gripped the table edge and tried to quash the desire quivering her insides by focusing on her plan—fix her shifting problem, first. Then, have sexy fun times.
“Can I help clean the kitchen?” she blurted to distract herself from her needy body.
He lowered her pant leg and straightened to his full height, looming over her. She couldn’t hide the shiver shooting down her body.
His eyes crinkled at the corners, and a half smile curled his lips. “I’d enjoy your company.”
Without asking, he gripped her waist and helped her off the table. “Better, Moonbeam?”
Why yes, the view is much better this close to you. Wait, he meant her leg. “Yes, thanks.”
“Good.” He pivoted and stalked away. “Come on, then.”
She followed him across the dining area and into the kitchen, her greedy gaze soaking up Sexy Wolf Man goodness, her palms itching to glide over the broad expanse of his shoulders, down to his tapered waist. Her gaze dipped lower and she bit her lip. Man, oh man, his jeans fit his ass to perfection.
Ross cleared his throat.
Her gaze shot upward, catching his bemused expression. Heat flared in her face. So busted.
He tossed her a dish towel. “Dishwasher is full. I’ll do the rest by hand. You can dry.”
She joined him at the stainless-steel, double sink. “Okay.”
She liked the easy rhythm they fell into, with Ross washing up the pans and serving bowls and handing her the items one by one. Easy, as if they’d done this before. No small talk, either, which let her relax into the mundane task and shake off the day’s many stressors.
As she set the last bowl on a drying towel on the counter, Ross gripped her shoulder. She jerked and bumped the bowl, shifting it close to the edge of the counter. “Sheesh. Warn a girl before you do that.”
He licked his lower lip. “Dessert?”
Every speck of moisture left her mouth. Yes, you with sprinkles please. “Um.”
He didn’t wait for a more coherent response. He grabbed a tub of ice cream from his freezer and two spoons from a drawer. He zapped the whole tub in his microwave for a few seconds then rejoined her at the sink, leaning against the counter and raising the bounty at her. “You want?”
Hell yes, I want.
“Darci?” He waggled the spoons.
Right. He meant the food. She nodded.
He flashed her a toe-curling grin then popped the top off the ice cream and loaded a spoon for her. “Open.”
The man was commanding. Take charge. Bossy. I like it. She opened her mouth. He slid the spoon inside. Sexiest move ever made on her.
She moaned in pleasure as the ice cream melted on her tongue. Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie. One of her favorites.
Ross watched her intently and gave her another spoonful, wolfing down an enormous helping himself this time as well, though his focus never strayed from her lips. Not even once.
Darci let him give her a third helping, the taste of the creamy goodness combined with the calming, lemon scent on his fingers from the dish soap sending her senses into happy town. Best way to eat ice cream. Ever.
She suppressed a smile when he forgot to switch spoons and ate with hers. Then he offered her a fourth spoonful. She opened her mouth—an obedient, greedy girl—but trapped his wrist, helping him guide the spoon from between her lips and into the carton.
Ross went very still. Not even breathing. He narrowed his eyes, his gaze so heated she was sure it would burn off her T-shirt.
She chewed and swallowed the last morsel of brownie from the ice cream. “I think I’ve had enough.” She licked her lower lip, surprised and supremely aroused when a shudder rolled through Ross’s big body.
He tossed the ice cream tub and spoons in the sink, his gaze locked on her mouth. “Not even close, Moonbeam.”
He tugged her into his arms and slanted his lips over hers.
Chapter Seven
Ross licked at Darci’s lips until she opened to him, letting his
tongue breeze inside to glide over hers in a chocolate-infused dance. Tastes so damn good. He’d never get enough of her. Thank fuck Werewolves lived for a couple centuries. He’d make good use of the time with her.
Of course, he still needed to broach the you’re-my-mate subject and convince her to stay. He should probably do it. But rational thought fled the building, and his cock perked up as she stood on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck.
Then she climbed him like a tree.
“Oh, shit.” He grabbed her ass, holding her with ease—such a light little mate—and ground her sex against his cock. Her head tilted, and she let out a long, husky moan. Best sound in the whole damn world.
He couldn’t resist the tempting column of her neck so exposed to his attention. He nipped and licked and sucked, making her writhe in his arms. The scent of her arousal—spicy sweet—damn near brought him to his knees. Then she grabbed his head and kissed him as if the world might end tomorrow. His chest squeezed tight at the utter abandon in her passion. She trusts me.
His lust roll slowed. They’d formed a bond earlier, when he was in Wolf form and after. Did he want to rush her, risk his forever to slake his immediate thirst for her?
It took a mountain’s worth of willpower to break away from her hot mouth, to disentangle her legs from around his hips, and set her on her feet.
She reached for him. He cupped her face and leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers. Her soft panting pelted his face. He inhaled deep. “We should stop. Take this slow.” His voice sounded like he’d swallowed a shit ton of gravel. It also didn’t sound particularly convincing.
His mate agreed. “Fuck slow.”
His cock swelled at her raw words. “You’re killing me here.”
She ran her hands over his pecs, down his rib cage, along his abs. “I don’t know why I can’t keep my hands off you, but right now, I don’t care. So stop talking and take me upstairs. We can regret this in the morning.”
Diamond Moon (Black Hills Wolves Book 12) Page 4