Between Moons (The Cursed Series Book 1)

by Lilly Cain

  He leaned a little closer and she smelled him, that same strong woodsy scent of his cologne and the subtler scent that was his skin. Delicious. Warm. Honest. Her senses analyzed him and sent the results straight to her heart and her libido. She could trust him. She still wanted him. And maybe, he still wanted her.

  “How do I smell?” His voice was deeper. The interest was still there. But he’d have to be crazy to act on it. Still, for just a minute she imagined being with him and how good it would be to be held, to be taken, to have nothing to think about but physical enjoyment for even a little while, rather than the craziness her life had become.

  She clenched her jaw. She wouldn’t feel sorry for herself. Never once had her father let her get away with that, not even when her mother died when she was little. And maybe that was a good thing. Sure, she’d perhaps gone too far with work, making it the center of her life, but right now, she needed the stiff spine he’d forced her to build. Otherwise how would she survive?

  David came around the counter. “Helen, how do I smell to you?”

  She looked up at him. The urge to growl was there, a pressure inside that had to be coming from the wolf. “You smell good. Like someone I can trust.”

  “Is that all?”

  She licked her lips. Admit it or not? What the hell, he was all grown up and he could decide for himself if being with her was a risk he was willing to take. “Your scent…it makes me want you.”

  He reached out and stroked her hair. It must look a mess, but his fingers tangling in the long strands made her shiver and reminded her she wore only the car blanket toga.

  He remembered it too. He touched the skin on her shoulders. “No blood this time, when you shifted.”

  “There isn’t usually any. That was from whatever the other wolves did, pulling me back into human form somehow.” He didn’t stop touching and she leaned into his hand.

  “Does it hurt? To shift?” He put his other hand on her as well, holding the sides of her face so he could look deep into her eyes.

  “Yes. No,” she murmured. Was he hypnotizing her? Pulling all the truth from her? “Not really. There’s pain, but I found out if I don’t fight it, it’s…not bad. And once I am changed, there’s strength and power…”

  He moved a little closer. “But they hurt you.”

  “Yes—”

  He kissed her, long, delicious movements against her lips until she stood and pressed against him, opening her mouth to let him in. He took it deeper and she let him lead. Let everything go and just followed where he wanted to take her. The relief of it appealed nearly as much as the strength of his arms as he pulled her in close, held her.

  It wasn’t enough. She wanted comfort, yes, but she’d wanted him from the moment she’d laid eyes on him. She’d been so tired that day, and he’d been so goddamned pushy, but still he’d brought on a level of desire she couldn’t remember ever repeating. With a quick tug she dropped the blanket to the floor.

  He pulled back, his face registering surprise in the lift of his eyebrows and the tiny gasp that left his lips. “Are you sure? You’ve been through a lot. Maybe we shouldn’t push things too fast.”

  “I just want you, David. Isn’t that enough? I know what I want and I want sex, now, with you. I’m not hurt, I’m not confused, and I’m not crazy.”

  He dropped his lips to hers again and delved deep, his tongue dipping inside to taste her in a way that made her long for more. Then he swept her from her feet and into his arms. Need washed over her and she leaned in to nuzzle his neck. He stumbled slightly over the dropped blanket and her teeth grazed his skin harder than she meant.

  “No biting.”

  Likely a good idea, so she murmured a quick “sorry,” and tugged his head down for a kiss. They made it to the bedroom but not before he knocked over an old vase of dried flowers on a side table beside the door. Finally he dropped her onto the bedspread.

  “Helen…God, you’re beautiful.” He leaned down and stroked her hair, his fingers tangling in the strands. His body spoke silently of the tension it held within—his jaw clenched and the cords of muscle in his forearms stretched taut.

  * * *

  Full-blown lust. That was the only way to describe the sensation flooding his body. She looked like his favorite dreams transformed into life. She sat still on the mattress, one hand in his. Her hair was a cascade around her. Her face was flushed, both from her earlier frustration and her reaction to the words he had uttered. And her skin, so pure it glowed, made him want to leave bite marks. Hardly fair, since he’d just told her she couldn’t bite him.

  Was he an idiot for acting this way? Probably, but if she didn’t say something soon, he was going to lose all control.

  To hell with it—she was too beautiful not to at least kiss some more. He lowered himself to the bed, never taking his eyes away from hers. He held her gaze and leaned slowly forward, tilting his head to slant his lips against hers. He couldn’t bring himself to shutter those light golden eyes from his view, and he watched as they glowed with a need to match his own.

  He ran his hands over her, exploring. Still her eyes stayed open, and he deepened their kiss, running his tongue over her lips and separating them. Finally, he delved inside her mouth, tasting her sweetness. As he did she made a soft sound deep in her throat, and her eyes drifted closed. Was it surrender? It was so much more, he realized as she moved her own hands to run up his sides, stroking his back and coming to clutch at his shoulders.

  For the briefest moment, he remembered the possible danger they were in. There could literally be wolves at the door. He should stop. Then, as she pulled closer to him, pressing upward against his body and striving to pull his waist closer, everything was forgotten except her.

  She was perfect. Her skin was pale cream, smooth, flawless. Her breasts were small but the nipples were taut, jutting up at him like twin offerings. Impossible to resist. He lowered his mouth to her and dragged his lips over her skin.

  Blood thundered through his veins as he struggled to take the moment slowly. When he sucked one nipple into his mouth he heard her moan, a low, powerful sound that God must have given women to drive men crazy. Between that, the scent of her, and the feeling of her supple skin under his hands and mouth, he might lose his mind.

  When her hands stroked lower to rub at his thighs and the bulge in his jeans, he knew he was lost. A deep groan resonated in his throat. He raised his face to hers once more, and kissed her. As he held her he lowered her to the bed, and twisted to slide his legs onto the mattress. He levered on top of her, and rested part of his weight on her. He was never going to last if he didn’t take this slowly, and by God did he want it to last.

  “David,” she half-sighed, half-moaned his name, “Touch me.”

  “Shh.” He kissed her, possessing her mouth more roughly now, unable to resist nipping her lips with his teeth. “I want to take my time with you.”

  Her moans were reckless now, and she squirmed under his body. He raised himself up on one knee and she gripped at his T-shirt, pulling it from the waist of his jeans. He took a moment to strip it off, and was rewarded as her fingers stroked his chest and stomach, then moved to attempt to open his pants’ button. He grinned and chased her away. He wanted to open her and taste her. If he stripped off totally now, there’d be no time for that. His jeans were the last barrier, and he was keeping them on until the last moment.

  He hesitated again. There was more than one kind of danger possible. Only yesterday he wondered if she was losing her mind, hallucinating about wolves and even imagining herself to be one. That she’d broken down and might be a danger to herself, like Sharon. He’d been wrong. But she could still be hurt from it all, and hurting her further would kill him. Then her hands pulled at him again and he was undone.

  * * *

  Her heart was going to pound its way out of her chest. She’d never felt such intense need. The months of stress and the recent bout of danger, combined with David’s scent, his kisses, and the
touch of his skin did things to her that no single romantic night had ever achieved—she was ravenous with desire. David’s hands and kisses flowed over her body, bringing wave after wave of glorious sensation.

  She could hear her own guttural moans and growls, and a part of her was amazed at her level of total involvement. His soft groans were thrilling, pushing her level of desperation as he moved so slowly to explore her most sensitive areas. The fact that he wanted to take his time with her was exciting, and maddening.

  “Please,” she whimpered. His palm massaged her mound.

  “Mmmm,” he murmured, his lips pressed against her navel.

  The seconds as he dragged his mouth downward lasted forever. Within moments she was lost in a spiral of bliss. Her mouth shaped the words, and she breathed out his name.

  Finally his weight settled upon her as he levered himself up to stretch along the length of her body. The rough texture of his jeans was breathtaking after the velvet heat of his tongue. She clutched him to her, wrapping herself around his body. She reached again for his jeans and he shifted to allow her hands entry, even as he teased her breasts with his hands and ravished her neck and shoulders with his mouth.

  “Just a minute, baby,” he whispered.

  It was agony to feel him move away from her, see him lift his body from the bed. When he bent to pull off his boots she allowed herself a grin of pure, wolfish satisfaction. He was in her bed, and she was keeping him there. He stripped off his jeans, and her grin widened when as she watched his briefs follow suit. He was wonderful, all over.

  “I’ve got protection,” he told her, his voice serious, but his hazel eyes twinkling in laughter.

  “Well, thank God for that, and get back here,” she mock-growled at him.

  He knelt on the mattress, his stiff member proving to her that he needed her as much as she needed him. She reached out to stroke him, rose to touch her lips to him, but he pulled at her shoulders. “I don’t think I can take that, and live to follow through,” he rasped. His eyes were clouded with lust.

  He lifted her to her knees, and pressed their bodies together even as his lips met hers. She tasted her own salty sweetness and his distinct masculine flavor as she opened her mouth to his. Skin against skin, they kissed.

  They fit together. He drew his fingers again to her mound and stirred her female core to greater heights. Her heart thundered and she growled for real. He pushed between her legs with his hips, and parted her. His penetration was more than she’d bargained for, and as she gasped with pleasure, he groaned her name out loud. Her climax was immediate; his took a blessedly long time.

  For the next hour, time stood still as they brought each other over the edge again. Sometime after that, Helen found herself drifting off to sleep, nestled in his arms.

  9

  She breathed deeply in her sleep, looking like any other beautiful woman might after sex—a glow to her skin and her hair a complete mess, though he’d never tell her that. But she wasn’t like any other woman. Not at all, and it blew him away.

  Did he feel any different about a woman who could shift into a huge, dangerous, and gorgeous wolf? Was he a little twisted somehow? He considered that. Nope. The wolf was scary for sure but it was the woman he wanted.

  He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. They’d been in bed since early morning and now it was close to noon. Leaving her alone seemed like the wrong thing to do, but he had to wrap his head around everything. He slid out of bed carefully, leaving her wrapped in the warm flannel sheets and heavy comforter so she wouldn’t miss his heat. He snagged his pants from where they’d hit the floor and his long-sleeved T-shirt. Hard to say where his socks had ended up and he didn’t want to wake her by looking for them. He walked into the hallway before pulling on the jeans and shirt.

  He put on a small kettle to boil and spooned a bit of instant coffee into his father’s favorite mug. A little chipped, it seemed to be a perfect fit for his hand, when it had always seemed too big before. He ran a thumb over the chip.

  What he been thinking, planning on knocking this place down for some sort of spa hideaway for rich brats with too much time and too much stress? This place had been his father’s retreat. His haven. Odd that Helen had thought it would be one for her, too. Having second thoughts after sex wasn’t cool. He glanced at the bedroom door. Not that he regretted being with her, not for a second. She was amazing, fantastic, and while she wasn’t his usual type, she drew him in and made him want her bad enough that his cock stood up a little, offering to try its best at round four.

  Maybe though, she should have thought about what the sex meant to her before he forgot about thinking at all. She had problems he couldn’t have imagined before last night. How could he possibly help her with them? She’d been cursed and now was being hunted. Was it even the same people who’d made her into a werewolf? If it was them, why were they after her now, months later? Why curse her and then attack her?

  The kettle boiled and he poured it over the instant granules. Helen hadn’t stirred. There was no question he was going to help her. She needed him and he needed to feel needed. He’d been to a therapist. He was all too aware that the world’s problems—and not even every gorgeous woman’s problems—were not on his shoulders. She wasn’t even exactly human, although that was pretty hard to believe when he’d just had the most fantastic sex with her.

  He took a long sip of coffee, not exactly savoring the instant formula, but tasting the familiarity of it. How many times had he shared a silent cup of coffee with his father? John Sherman would have been amazed at Helen’s transformation, but it wouldn’t have frightened him. He’d believed everything under the sky was created by a power far greater than him, and that, “There are more things on heaven and earth, Horatio…” a quote he’d regularly use and mangle as he chose to indicate his belief in the legends of the local Native Americans. Somewhere, he’d claimed, they had Native blood in their tree, though David had never found it in any record.

  What would his father do in a mess like this? Help her. Hold her. Probably keep her. David smiled. Exactly what he was going to do. What they’d shared had been physically intimate, but Helen was smart, strong, powerful in her own way, and exactly what he wanted for far more than a short sexual fling.

  They just had to solve a few problems first.

  He needed a plan. And within his overall plan for Helen, he needed a plan to get rid of the people who were after her, and get rid of a curse. No big deal.

  He settled with his coffee and his phone on the couch and began a search. Werewolves in the United States. Rom and magic and curses.

  A long search later and he had an idea about where the Rom wandered on their migration. It was actually a two year long meandering path that touched base in a number of free camping spots as it wound from the east coast to the south and down to Mexico, and then back through the middle of the United States and east again. He’d found a blog by a young woman who was a fringe member of the Rom.

  “Find anything interesting?” Helen spoke from beside him and he jumped. The woman was silent as she moved. And, a bit disappointingly, she was dressed, and looked fresh, her hair brushed and no longer mussed from their roll in bed. He doubted he could say the same for himself.

  “I found a blog by a Romany girl that I think will help us follow them.”

  She walked to the kitchen counter where her camp stove sat and flipped it on. Watching could become an easy obsession. Had she always been this graceful when she moved or was this part of the shift as well?

  “The Romily? I saw that one too, but I didn’t have much time to look through it. Seemed like a lot about which boy the writer liked best.”

  He pointed to a cupboard. “Tea is up there in a cookie can. The blog is definitely written by a teenage girl, and there’s a lot to sort through. But she does mention the names of places and it isn’t hard to work out dates, so I think we can put together an idea of their route. If we follow that, we’ll eventually catch up
. Then we can find the woman who cursed you and get her to take it off.”

  She said nothing, stood watching the stove and waiting for the water to boil.

  “You do want them to take it off, right? You said you did.”

  She looked up at him. “I do. But you said ‘we’ and I am not sure you should come.”

  He set the phone down on the counter. “You can’t do this alone.”

  “But why should you come with me? Why get involved? You saw what happened last night. Those guys—those wolves—attacked us. Next time it could be a lot worse. I don’t even know who they were, or why they want to hurt me, but they do. Not to mention they have fangs and claws, and have some sort of magic. Why drag yourself into all this?”

  He stepped closer. “Because you need me.”

  She sucked in a breath. “And who appointed you my keeper? You followed me up here. I didn’t ask you to, and just because we had sex doesn’t mean I am going to follow you around like a helpless puppy. For all I know, getting a stranger involved is exactly what brought on the attack. You can’t even defend yourself against them. They could come at us as wolves or humans.” Anger flared in those fantastic, golden eyes. Very nice. But she clearly had some issues surrounding her independence. If trying to imply he was weak was her go-to defense, she must have had an interesting childhood.

  “I can hold my own, and I want to help. It isn’t because of the sex. I’ve had you, and I want you again, but I’d still want to help if we didn’t just have fantastic sex.”

  She pressed her lips together hard and her nostrils flared slightly. Yep, she was pissed. But maybe, considering the rosy color of her cheeks, a little interested in the fact he already wanted her again. Reading her was like reading a book. He’d always been good at understanding people through their body language, but she laid it all out for him as clearly as if she stated her emotions as they changed. It was a hard battle to keep the smile from his face; she’d never get his happiness over that. No woman wanted to be understood.