by Kate Rudolph
Smart man.
She could kiss him all night, and she would have if her body wasn't demanding more. She could kiss Owen later, her body promised, as long as she got him inside of her now.
Yes.
Yes, that sounded very good.
Somehow they managed to get her clothes off and every inch of skin that she had pressed against Owen burned and demanded more. She could become addicted to him. Maybe she already was. Any thoughts of the spark between them fizzling out in the morning were long gone. Now that she'd tasted him, she couldn't give it up. Not now, not ever.
They rolled until Owen was on his back with her laying on top of him, his cock hard between them as they kissed. She got her fingers around him and stroked, swallowing down his moan. She almost crawled right on him then, and it was only the barest edge of sanity that pulled her off.
"Condom?" She might have had some stashed away somewhere, but her mind was too sex crazed to think about it. Owen, though, seemed like the kind of guy that came prepared. Under other circumstances she might give him hell for it, but today she prayed she was right.
"Wallet." The word was guttural, his ability to say much taken away by his hard cock, and it only made her hotter.
Stasia didn't want to pull off. If she was just a bit hornier she might have said damn the consequences and gone through with it. Instead, she scrambled off the bed until she found his pants and wrestled with the pockets until one offered up a leather wallet. And inside she didn't just find a condom, she found three.
"Should I be jealous?" There was coming prepared, and then there was this.
"All for you." It should have been cheesy. He was lying in her bed, his cock in hand, looking at her with lust in his yellowy-brown eyes, but it made Stasia's heart beat hard.
She had it bad.
But she wasn't backing down now, not even if the tiniest part of her worried that she was headed for heartbreak.
Getting the condom on his cock was another test of dexterity, but they managed between smiles and kisses.
And then Stasia climbed on, straddling him and guiding his cock to her entrance. He filled her up by inches, further and further until she was certain there was no space left inside of her, and yet, somehow, he still went deeper.
Their eyes locked and an awareness passed between them. For a moment she thought someone else was looking out of Owen's eyes, that flash of yellow she'd been seeing while they made love.
Should it have scared her? She didn't know. It didn't. It felt right in the same way all of this encounter felt right.
Meant to be.
She didn't believe in soulmates. She'd never been one for religion. But the thing passing between her and Owen was greater than either one of them and deeper than it had any right to be.
She couldn't call it love, not now, not so soon. But it was much deeper, much truer, than simple lust.
There was nothing simple about this.
She knew deep in her heart that there was no letting Owen go, not now that she had her hooks in him. But figuring out what that meant was going to take work.
The worries washed away as she began to move on top of him, setting the rhythm of their dance. Her body was already taut and teetering at the edge of release, and Owen wouldn't be far behind her.
And then she was rippling around him, crying out his name and babbling nonsense that she was going to pretend she didn't understand. Owen gripped her tight as he came right after her, emptying himself into the condom.
It wasn't over. Not as they separated and he took care of the condom. Not as he lay back down in bed beside her, somehow realizing she wanted a cuddle even if she'd never dare ask for it.
If anything, she wanted him more than she had at the start.
"Stay here tonight." It felt vulnerable to say it. He might have just been buried inside of her, her body still stretched with the memory of him, but some of the hormones had washed away and her defenses were building themselves back up. But were they leaving a door for Owen to slip through?
"Yeah?" He looked thrilled. He wasn't like her. He didn't hide his emotions, he had no secrets. Everything was right there on the surface for anyone to see and it was a kind of bravery Stasia would never possess.
Was this more than a fling to him? Was it possible he was feeling what she was feeling? If she could believe the look on his face, maybe it was real.
But she couldn't just ask. She couldn't be that open. "We've got two more condoms."
He laughed, as if he saw right through her and kissed her.
She was in so much trouble.
Chapter Fifteen
Stasia didn't mean to let Owen move into her room. It just sort of happened. In the morning he started kissing her and her body was way too sated to kick him out of bed. Plus, he gave really good cuddles, something she'd never really wanted before.
Of course, by the time they came down for breakfast Em had to know what was going on. She grinned at them like they were the funniest pair she'd ever seen, but out of some form of kindness for Stasia's tender nerves, she didn't mention anything.
It was another lazy day around the house. Em was happy for the boredom since her days would be scheduled down to the minute once she was back on tour. Stasia would have been going stir crazy, but Owen and Em managed to keep her entertained.
They watched the sequel to the comedy they'd watched the night before and Owen sat right next to her again, one arm slung across her shoulders. She didn't even notice at first when she snuggled against him, but by the time she did it was too late to pull away.
And she didn't want to.
And then that night Owen followed her to her room and pulled out a pack of condoms he'd unearthed from her bathroom. It was a bit arrogant, but she loved it. Things just fell into place when it came to him, no matter that the circumstances for their meeting sucked. He felt right and when he kissed her, she saw stars.
If there was any doubt that they were sexually compatible, that went up in flames on the second night. He had her twisted in knots, physically and emotionally, contortions she didn't know were possible. And she still wanted more.
"Do you like being a bodyguard?" she asked when she couldn't fall asleep. She was right next to him, tracing her fingers up and down his abs.
Owen shivered under her touch. "It's a living."
"That's not an answer." She was dealing with her own career crisis and knew just how bad it could be. She didn't want Owen facing the same issues.
"I like being your bodyguard." He kissed the side of her neck and nipped her with his teeth, probably leaving a mark she'd be embarrassed of in the morning.
"I bet you say that to all the girls."
She meant it as a joke, but he grew serious. "Just you. This has never happened before."
"Sleeping with a client?" It still sent a zing of the forbidden through her brain, but now that they'd taken the plunge Stasia wasn't going to pull back until she had no other choice.
"Falling for a client." Their eyes met and there was no hint of a joke. He meant every word.
It was way too fast. It normally took Stasia a week to decide if she was even willing to consider going on one date with a guy, and in half that time she'd let Owen into her bed—twice!—and couldn't imagine letting him go.
"Too much?" he asked.
She could reject him now. His eyes would dim and he wouldn't hold her as tight. She could tell him she needed more time or that this was just a fling while they were locked in her house and her brother hunted down the people who meant her harm.
But none of that would be true. She'd just be trying to defend herself from the pain that he could bring her if he ever broke her heart.
"Not too much." She couldn't give him more, she wasn't as open as him, but she wasn't about to push him away. Not now. "Tell me something special about you. You have to have secrets." If her soul felt flayed, she wanted him equally exposed.
He stiffened and a strange look crossed his face.
"
You can say you shot a man in Reno just to watch him die if you don't want to tell me." She tried to keep it light, but she'd never been good at jokes, and it came out sourer than she intended.
"I don't want to keep secrets from you," he said. His hand found the nape of her neck and his fingers started to massage it.
"What's the but?"
"It's not only my secret to tell."
"Sounds big." The weight of the world lay all around them, and Stasia regretted summoning it. She'd been lying all happy in the afterglow and then she had to ruin it.
"I promise I'll tell you. Someday."
"Someday." Making promises led to expectations, and Stasia was trying her hardest—and failing—to keep from doing that. She could only guarantee that Owen would be around for a week. Was he really willing to travel all the way from Queens to see her? Dating someone in a different borough was basically a long term relationship in New York terms. And what about his job? What about hers?
"We'll figure it out," Owen said, kissing her hair and reading her mind.
Eventually she slept and dreamt weird dreams that disturbed her but were forgotten by the morning.
She woke alone to cold sheets and vaguely recalled Owen getting out of bed and telling her to keep sleeping. It was near eight o'clock and Stasia felt like she'd slept until noon.
She took her time showering and changing, and before she could head downstairs for some breakfast her phone rang. It was AR.
"What's up?" she asked.
"I have good news." He sounded triumphant, like he'd just managed a coup in a small country.
Stasia's heart sank. There was only one kind of good news he'd be delivering to her. "What is it?"
"We managed to track down the threat against you. Sounds like grabbing you was just stage one of a multi-pronged attack. The perpetrators are being dealt with and you should be safe enough to let the babysitter go early." For a second she wondered if AR knew what was going on between her and Owen before she remembered that she was the one who'd originally called Owen a babysitter.
It was Friday. Owen was supposed to be hers until Tuesday.
"Perpetrators? Multiple? You're sure you found everyone? That was quick." She didn't exactly want to suffer another attempted kidnapping, but she was grasping at anything to keep Owen by her side.
"There might be a few stragglers, but the plan is unraveling fast and they won't have the resources to come for you." No doubt her brother was sitting in the middle of the spider web and plucking the strings to close a trap.
"Do you know why they came for me?"
AR sighed. "Objection to a specific project from the company. Details confidential. They planned to hold you hostage until they extracted terms from Selby Group. Not the smartest negotiation tactic."
Because Stasia was worth less than a Selby Group project, probably. She was just the easiest of the Selby children to nab.
"Do you want me to cancel the contract early?" AR asked.
"No. You say there could be stragglers, better safe than sorry. But you can probably call in the surveillance team. No need to keep them tied up." She had almost forgotten about them, and it couldn't be fun to babysit a woman who never left her house.
"I already did. I'm a little surprised about the guard, though."
She didn't want AR to make trouble with Owen's boss. They'd figure out the road ahead, if there was a road ahead, later.
"He's not as bad as I thought."
"Huh. Well, I have a call. Reach out to my secretary if you change your mind."
He hung up before Stasia could say goodbye. She wasn't going to change her mind. But now she had to figure out how she was going to hold onto Owen for good.
Chapter Sixteen
Stasia was acting weird and Owen wanted to know why. Ever since she'd come downstairs for breakfast, something had been off. At first he worried that whatever fever of lust and emotion was building between them had been snuffed out, but when Em left them alone for a minute Stasia pushed him up against the wall and kissed him like her life depended on it.
So, no issue with the lust.
"Is staying in the house getting to you?" They'd meandered back to her room at some point and she was sitting in the window seat and looking out at the park. He didn't know what Em was doing, but she seemed happy enough keeping herself entertained in the peace of Stasia's house.
"What?" Stasia looked over at him, but her eyes were far away.
There wasn't much room on the bench for two people, but Owen managed to squeeze in near her feet. "I know it can be frustrating to be stuck inside. We can figure out something if you need a break." It would be difficult. No doubt the surveillance team would hate him, but he'd give Stasia the world if she asked for it.
She blinked hard and gave her head a little shake. "No, it's not that. I really would be a spoiled princess for complaining about being stuck in my house for a few days."
"You're not spoiled." It might have been his first instinct, but that was because he hadn't seen the generosity of her prickly spirit. Stasia didn't warm up to people quickly—Owen was pretty sure he was the exception there—but she gave her all.
She smiled wryly. "I am. A bit. Just not the way you thought."
"When are the servants showing up to wait on us hand and foot then?" Owen wouldn't mind a little pampering, but he couldn't imagine Stasia putting up with it. She had self-sufficient stamped on her forehead.
She reached out, silently asking for his hand, and Owen linked their fingers together. It was a bit awkward and his shoulder didn't like the position, but his heart loved it. Any reason to touch Stasia.
Mate.
His wolf needed to learn to shut the hell up. It was still restless under his skin; the only moments where they felt like one came when he was buried deep in Stasia, her scent covering him. He wondered if a run would fix it, but it was risky to run in the city, not that anyone would actually believe he was a wolf if they saw him.
Could he tell Stasia about that part of himself? Would she believe him?
Seeing was believing.
But he couldn't just shift right there and show her. She was liable to kick him out of her house and her life for good. No one knew werewolves existed, at least not anyone that Owen knew who wasn't already a werewolf. And the team probably wouldn't take too kindly to him spilling the secrets four days into knowing someone.
It might have only been four days, but his heart didn't care.
And his wolf knew what she was, even if his mind was still struggling to keep up.
"They—" Stasia began to speak but his phone rang. Owen would have let it ring, but she said, "Take it. Don't let me stop you."
He read the caller ID and had to leave the room. Andre was calling, and there was no way he'd reach out if it wasn't important. "What's up?" Owen asked.
He heard heavy breathing and a muffled command to speed up, goddamnit before Andre spoke. "Vega got shot. It's—fuck! Take the back roads, it's faster." Andre cursed more before talking to Owen again. "The wound isn't closing."
Owen's own mind threw out some choice curses, and his wolf growled at the thought of his packmate in danger. He wasn't exactly close to Vega, but the man was family. "What happened? How?" One of the perks they'd discovered about their wolfishness was crazy fast healing. A knife wound that would have needed hundreds of stitches could heal in an hour. A gunshot went from fatal to barely bruised just as quickly.
"Job was ending. Gibson and I were there for wrap up. Things went bad. Cops showed up and we piled him into the car. Had to leave Gibson behind to deal with it. Willa, hurry!" It was bad if Andre was using anyone's first name, especially Willa's.
"Why's he still hurt?" Owen paced and tried to think of a way to fix it. They didn't have a doctor, though they all had some basic medic training. It hadn't seemed necessary when they thought they were basically invincible.
"I. Don't. Know." The words were practically growled. "He needs a doctor."
"You can't take hi
m to a hospital." He hated even saying it, but their secret couldn't come out. Owen didn't know if anything wolfy would show up in blood tests, but they couldn't risk it. The military had discharged them all before the first change hit, but he feared they'd pull them all back if they got a hint of the truth.
"I know that." Andre took even breaths. "You need to bring the doc to the safe house."
"The doc?" It didn't hit at first, and when it did, Owen's wolf went wild. "What? No! She's not a part of this."
"Bryan is going to die if he doesn't see a doctor," Andre hissed, as if he didn't want Willa or Vega to hear. "We need her. There's no other choice."
There had to be. Owen wracked his brain, hoping to latch onto one. But he had a highly skilled ER doctor sitting in the next room who was his best hope at saving his friend's life.
She'd never forgive him if she found out he didn't give her a chance to try.
"Keep him alive until we get there." Owen disengaged the call and took a deep breath before marching back into Stasia's bedroom.
She must have read something on his face. "What's wrong?" She got up off the bench and came to him.
Owen couldn't be her lover now, not when time was so short. "One of my co-workers needs medical attention. We can't take him to the hospital. Do you have supplies?"
They had a pretty extensive first aid kit at the safe house, but he hoped Stasia had more.
"What kind of attention? If it's bad enough to need a hospital, that's where he should be." Her forehead creased in worry even as she moved to her dresser and started pulling out clothes.
"I know it doesn't make sense, but he can't go to the hospital. It's not safe." What was he supposed to say? Sorry, babe, your bodyguard is a werewolf and so are all of his friends?
Her head snapped up. "You're not… this isn't something illegal, is it?"
"No. I promise." He didn't know about any laws against werewolves.
She gave him a hard look for several seconds. Owen felt every one of them tick by, knowing that was another drop of blood spilling out of Bryan Vega. But whatever she saw did the trick. She gave him a nod.