by Alison Paige
I put the last napkin holder on the counter and noticed Mom waving at me like she was landing a plane. I went the long way around so I could pass near to her. “What?”
“You know him? Smells familiar.”
I glanced at Anthony sitting with his back to us and shook my head. But it was hard lying to the woman who taught me how to sneak tampons into the bathroom so the sixth grade boys wouldn’t know. “I, ah, I don’t know. Maybe.”
“I think he’s alpha. Cute, too.” Her brows sprang up to her hairline and her voice slid higher at the end like she was asking a question.
I flicked my gaze back to him. “Cute’s the last thing on my list for potential mates,” I said and turned the bend at the end of the counter. Okay, maybe not the last thing, but when it came to Anthony Ricci, cute was about the only thing on my list he matched.
I couldn’t help a quick glance in the mirror that covered the top half of the back wall. I was a woman after all and checking hair and makeup before speaking to a good-looking man was like breathing.
I’d forgotten I’d pulled my hair into a ponytail and cringed when I saw the look of an athletic twelve-year-old staring back at me. For half a heartbeat I considered yanking the elastic band out and letting my hair fall loose past my shoulders. But health codes and the fact he’d already seen me this way changed my mind. Instead, I pulled a few more of the lighter blond strands loose from my ponytail of caramel hair, and smoothed them in thin lines to frame my face. At least this way it looked like a style rather then the result of a bad scare.
Makeup? Wasn’t wearing any. One less thing to worry about. Besides, Mom always said I had a soap-and-water beauty that didn’t need makeup to enhance my brown eyes and thick lashes. I loved my mom.
I tugged my apron smooth over my pink T-shirt and blue jeans, turned from the mirror and walked quickly behind the counter to the other end. I grabbed the order pad I’d left next to the register and crossed the diner to our one and only customer.
“Hi,” I said, resting my weight on one hip, pad and pen at the ready. “What can I get for ya?”
“Uh…” He laughed, confused, his brows knitting over his eyes. He glanced at my mom, then back to me. “Well, I dunno. What’ve you got for a bruised ego?”
“Tea?” I said. But with my eyes I was screaming, Keep your mouth shut ya big dope. My mom will have you kicked to the curb or married to me in three seconds flat if she finds out we’re sleeping together. Run away, run away!
I don’t think he caught all of it though.
His shoulders shook with another laugh, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes and pulling sexy little dimples in both his cheeks. “What’s going on, Mattie? You look like someone’s got a gun to your head. I wanted to ask you something last night but—”
“What’s that? The specials?” I said to stop him. “Ah, yeah. Tomato soup and grilled cheese. Can I get you a plate?” My face was so tense from the huge fake grin the muscles were already aching.
“Uh, no.” He shifted in his seat, angling his body to rest his elbow on the cushioned bench back. “Jeezus, Mattie relax. I haven’t seen you this uptight since we were kids and I sat on your back, pulling your ponytail until you promised to be one of my females.”
“Anthony Ricci?” Mom asked. She used that motherly voice that said I know you’re bad news, but saying so will only make my daughter want to date you, and closed the distance from the back of the diner to his booth. “Anthony. That is you. Haven’t seen you since the funeral. I can’t remember if I thanked you and your parents for coming. Are they well?”
Crap. All the tense effort I’d been using to communicate with Anthony telepathically drained from my body and made me feel like a deflated balloon. The jig was up. Mom remembered him. Worse, she remembered his family. Anthony was her biggest fear realized. Eldest son of Richard Ricci, alpha of the Ricci pack, Anthony stood to take over. If he hadn’t already; I’d never bothered to ask.
One of my brother’s friends, he’d been an arrogant little jerk when we were kids. He was four years older than me, and had strutted around with a gaggle of hormone-crazed girls following behind ready to mount him if the mood struck.
Not that he didn’t get my juices churning too—obviously. He was handsome, sexy in a way I found weirdly hard to ignore. Power swirled around him, clung to him like armor, and he carried it well, like a second skin.
“Hello, Mrs. Banebridge. Yes, ma’am,” he replied in that guy voice that said I’m too charming for you to be wise to my guy ways. Nobody was fooling anybody. “My parents will be at the Gathering. I, ah, stopped by to see if you and Mattie will be there this year.”
I’d sooner chew off my foot than marry Anthony. Richard Ricci was a Purist and last I’d heard or seen, Anthony was his father’s son.
Mom sniffed, loading volumes of mistrust and disapproval into the small sound. Still, she smiled. Totally fake. “Well, of course. Mattie has…responsibilities there this year.”
Anthony blinked, all signs of his good humor vanishing. “It’s been six months since Donny was killed. Mattie’s time of mourning has passed. She needs to choose a mate or someone’s bound to challenge her hold on your pack soon.”
“I’m well aware of our customs, Anthony—”
“No one’s going to challenge my hold,” I said before my mother blurted something she’d worry over for the next week. “I’ll choose a mate by the lunar eclipse, on the last night of the Gathering.”
Anthony’s smile made a grand return. “I was hoping you’d say that. Have dinner with me. Tonight.”
I almost laughed, but that would’ve been rude. “Why?”
“Because I want you to choose me to be your mate.”
Aw, hell. I laughed. Loud. Couldn’t help it.
Chapter Two
“If you’re not even considering me as your mate, why’d you come on this date?” He actually sounded upset.
“What date? This is eating together. Wait. You were serious?” Anthony and I were screwing, not dating. There was a difference.
“Yes, I’m serious.” He dropped his fork so it clanked against the porcelain plate and yanked the cloth napkin from his lap. A quick swipe across his mouth and he balled it into his fist. “Dammit, Mattie. We’d be perfect together.”
I didn’t laugh this time. But it wasn’t easy. “Ya think? Why’s that?”
“You mean aside from the last six months we’ve spent in sexual bliss?”
“Sex being the operative word. Sex is sex. Don’t read more into it than there is,” I said around the wad of spaghetti in my mouth. What more proof did he need that this wasn’t a date? I was actually eating.
“Sex is never just sex. We’re compatible. We fit.”
I set my fork on the edge of my plate and daintily wiped the corners of my mouth. “Anthony, is your pack still Purists?”
“Yeah.”
“We don’t fit.”
“This isn’t about my father’s pack. This is about us. What we can build together.” He reached across the table and took my hand. My belly fluttered at his touch, warm and strong. Damn. “I want to start fresh with you, Mattie. I want to take care of you and your pack.”
I took my hand back. “I don’t need to be taken care of. And my pack’s fine the way it is.”
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard you say since we were kids.” His voice held that same twang of condescension that used to make my fur bristle.
“Well, hey, with sweet talk like that how can a girl refuse?”
“I didn’t say you were dumb, I just meant… Hell. Never mind. Listen, I’m asking here, but we both know it’s just pretense. If I really wanted…” He let the sentence die unfinished.
Smart boy. “I know our laws. I don’t need you to tell me that as a woman I don’t count for crap in our world. One of the most important things my dad wanted to accomplish was establishing more rights for women. And his biggest detractor was your father.”
“Leadership
of a pack requires strength. Physical strength. That’s a fact.” He gripped both sides of the table. His knuckles whitened and his jaw looked stiff.
“It takes strength because so many of you men behave like animals.” I lowered my voice and leaned in. “We’re only half beast. Forcing a woman into a marriage she doesn’t want is barbaric.”
“It’s your position, your rank in your pack, that’s forcing the issue. Otherwise you could marry who and when you like.”
“Not according to your father,” I said, my tone growing more heated by the second. “If I was in his pack I’d already be able to answer the boxers or briefs question. Hell, I’d have my own set of sheets in his closet. A man like your father would dominate me and all the women of my pack. We’d be his possessions, with no rights, no voice. I couldn’t live like that. I won’t.”
“Right. Which is exactly why I’m here. You think I’d go through all of this if I was anything like my father? There’d be no debates—I’d just tell you whatever I had to get what I wanted. You wouldn’t know what hit you. Jeezus, Mattie, you’re like a dog with a bone.”
A half beat of silence passed while his last statement sunk in.
“Cute.” I had to fight the sudden smile tugging the corners of my mouth.
“Sorry. Bad choice of words.” His cheeks twitched as though he was fighting the same urge, but he kept control.
I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms over my belly. “So, what, you’re not a Purist anymore?”
“Never was,” he said, mirroring my pose.
“Bull. You think I don’t remember ‘your girls’ when we were kids? There were what, around five of them you were sleeping with at once? Like father like son.”
“Jealous?”
“No.” Yes. But that wasn’t the point.
“C’mon, Mattie. I was a teenage boy and they all wanted to be an alpha’s mate. Your brother wasn’t exactly monogamous either, but you know he believed in your father’s views. Donny was a big influence on me. So was your dad. He was more of a father to me than my own.”
“Yeah, my dad liked a lot of people. Didn’t mean he wanted them marrying his daughter. Besides, you never had my mom fooled. She’s always hated you.” It was too hard not to smile when I said that.
“The only reason your mom never liked me was—”
“She still doesn’t, ya know. Just sayin’.”
“Was because she knew, despite all the girls I had to choose from, the only one I wanted was you. And just like you, she couldn’t trust that I wasn’t my father’s son.”
“Oh.” It took me a second to process that. “Me? You never—”
Anthony leaned forward and caught my gaze. His voice came smooth and rich like thick, melted chocolate. “I’m not a kid anymore, Mattie. I don’t want to play games. I know what I want. Give me a chance.”
My heart skipped a beat, and a warm tingle raced down my spine. Every instinct inside me told me he was speaking the truth, or he thought he was. But I’d never considered Anthony as a possible mate. His Purist upbringing had kept him firmly in the no friggin’ way category. But now…?
“Excuse me.” I pushed to my feet, tossed my napkin on the table and grabbed my tiny clutch purse.
Anthony blinked, brows tight above violet eyes. “Wha—where’re you going?”
“To the lady’s room,” I said as though I wasn’t really just escaping an uncomfortable situation. “Do you mind?”
“Oh.” He glanced toward the restrooms and back. “But you haven’t answered my question.”
“I’ll be right back, Anthony. Sheesh.” I shook my head and made a beeline for the restroom.
Thank goodness the long, narrow room was empty. I tossed my clutch purse on the sink counter and paced. “Shoot, shoot, shoot.” My voiced echoed off the tile walls. Bad enough I was reduced to talking to myself but now I was doing it in stereo.
“Okay, pros: He’s an alpha. Check. He’s sexy as hell. That’s always nice. He’s amazing in bed. A must—naturally. He makes me laugh and listens to me, asks my opinions and takes my advice…sometimes.”
I stopped and closed my eyes, resting my head against the cool tiled wall. He had a lot of great attributes for a mate. But he was raised Purist and could a person really turn their back on their upbringing? In a moment of crisis how could I ever be sure he wouldn’t fall back on old habits?
“Wow, this place is huge.”
I think I screamed. Anthony’s very male, very loud voice startled the breath out of me. “What’re you doing in here?”
He strode past me to the far end of the restroom, checking out the stalls and then pausing at the tampon dispenser on his way back.
“Hel-loo?” I said when he seemed to be enjoying the tour a little too much.
“What do you need a room this big for?”
“Anthony.”
His gaze snapped to mine, suddenly serious. “I figured you were in here doing one of your pros and cons lists. I’m looking to sway the tally.”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
He grabbed my hand and turned, leading me back to the last stall with the handicapped plaque on the door. He twisted the little silver lock behind us and backed me to the wall.
“If anyone comes in… We’ll get thrown out if they catch us,” I said even as he unbuttoned my blouse and slipped his hand in to caress my breast. My breath shuddered with the delicious warmth and pressure.
“Then you’d better not scream this time.” His free hand brushed the long strands of my hair from my neck and he leaned in to press his lips to my collarbone.
“I don’t scream.” But I did moan at the featherlight kiss and the sharp nip that followed.
I bent my knee between his legs and he rocked his hips forward, stroking the hard line of his sex against my thigh. My hand slipped between us; I couldn’t help it. I wanted that thick, long shaft in my palm. I wanted to wrap my fingers around it, feel its length, its hardness. But his dark slacks allowed only a muted experience.
He had my blouse unbuttoned to my skirt in seconds and pushed the collar off my shoulders. It caught at my elbows but he’d already moved on, scooping my breasts from the cups of my bra. The cool air-conditioning chilled my skin, pulled my nipples tighter. His thumb brushed over one and then the other, sending quick jolts of pleasure through my body. He pinched and rolled the hard nubs between his fingers, and my breath caught; a sweet pinch of pain in a wake of tingling pleasure that filled my breasts.
Heat swelled inside, blossoming out from the center of my being, flooding my veins, sizzling through my sex, making me wet and ready. His head dropped to suckle me, his strong mouth drawing on my breast, teeth nipping, tongue teasing over the tight puckered flesh. My back arched, offering more of myself as I worked his belt and zipper.
Were we really going to do this? The thrill of possible discovery raced through my blood, made my heart beat faster, my skin tingle. Lord, I hoped no one came in…and I wished someone would.
With his cock free, thick and heavy in my hand, I stroked the length of him, a bead of pre-come wetting my palm. His breaths were quick and shallow and his body a solid mass of tense muscle, his kisses near frantic with need. The risks of our erotic tryst vibrated through every inch of his body, charged the air between us.
He hiked my skirt to my waist and took my small panties in both hands. A quick tug and I felt them loosen, another and they dropped to the floor. I opened my legs as wide as I could and he lifted me, using the wall behind me as leverage. The smooth hot tip of his cock pressed between the slick lips of my sex and—
“Umm, are you okay in there?” someone asked outside the stall.
We froze, his cock stretching the entrance to my body, making my muscles of my sex flex, trying to pull him deeper. “Uh…uh-huh,” I said.
I bit my bottom lip to stop a moan when Anthony suddenly let gravity impale my body with his. He filled me fast, too fast, shooting a searing mix of pain and pleasure through my body. My l
ungs squeezed, my breath caught. He froze again, buried balls deep inside me.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, breathless, trying not to move, his lips brushing my ear. He held his body so still and tense my fingers couldn’t dent the flesh across his shoulders. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I had to be inside you. I’m so sorry.”
I squirmed on his cock, my pussy adjusting, flooding with cream, muscles flexing. I couldn’t take it. I turned my head and bit his ear. “Fuck me, already.”
And he did.
He rocked his hips, pounding sensation through my sex, electrifying my skin so every part of me hummed with the feel of him driving in and out of my body. Sweet friction built the pressure, coiling my muscles, tightening through my chest. My fingers fisted his hair, his face buried in the crook of my neck.
Someone turned on the water and someone else flushed a toilet. The room roared with sound but nothing could drown out our howling cries of release.
Seconds later when our passion was spent and blood flow returned to our brains, a palpable silence filled the restroom. Then someone crumpled a paper towel and a woman’s heels clicked-clacked across the tile floor. The door out to the restaurant opened and swung slowly closed.
“Let’s pay the check then get out of here,” I said. “And, ya know, never come back.”
“Right.” He put me on my feet and we dressed like frantic teenagers whose parents had just pulled into the driveway.
I grabbed my ruined panties and opened the stall door. A quick peek to make sure the coast was clear and I tiptoed over to the sink to where I’d left my purse.
“Mattie?”
I turned in time to see him tuck in the last of his shirt. “Yeah?”
“How’s that pros and cons tally going?”
I sighed. He looked so hopeful, his shirt wrinkled, hair mussed. He’d tried so hard and well, hell, I liked him. I winked and let my smile have its way. “Heavy on the pros side, love. Definitely heavy on the pros.”
Chapter Three
“So you and Anthony a thing now?” Brad asked, his arm loose around Amy’s shoulders. Friends of both my brother and Anthony, they were part of the older crowd I’d shadowed as a kid. I had to admit, I got a stupid kind of thrill being part of their group now.