Midnight Touch

by L Ann

  He frowned. Had someone come to the house while he’d been out? There was a feeling of … something … but he couldn’t quite place his finger on it. Was it just a bout of paranoia? It had been a while since he’d been worried about being watched, but the events of the night before could have triggered the response. He stood, one hand on the door, breathing deeply, calming the instinct to shift and search the entire property. Once he was sure he had himself under control, he locked the door and walked to the kitchen.

  Dumping the holdall he’d taken out of his car onto the table, he looked around. Cassie had cleaned up, but where was she? He knew she hadn’t left because he’d parked his SUV next to her car. Tipping his head back, he inhaled deeply through his nose, then smiled and left the room and prowled down the hallway toward the living room.

  He found Cassie curled up on the corner of the couch, asleep. Placing the paper bag he was carrying onto the floor, he sat on the edge of the couch. There was a notebook resting under her palm, and he carefully slid it out and turned it over.

  He stilled, his attention riveted to the drawing he found. It was only half-complete, but he recognised the subject – as he should, since he stared at the reflection every day. He stroked a finger over the outline, marvelled over how she’d managed to accurately recreate the tattoos covering his back. She’d captured him as he’d been turning his head to look at her – his face in profile, lip curled up into a half-smile. Tearing out the page, he folded it and tucked it into a pocket.

  “Hey Goldilocks.” He tugged on a lock of hair and chuckled when she grumbled and turned her face away. “Open your eyes. I have it on good authority that blueberry muffins are your kryptonite, and I might just have brought some back with me.”

  Another mutter and she rolled over to present him with her back.

  “Did you just swear at me?” Shaun laughed. “That’s not very ladylike.” He gave another tug on her hair and her hand came up to take a swipe at him. He caught her wrists and pulled her back round to face him. “Blueberry muffins, Cassie,” he murmured to entice her to open her eyes. “And a double-chocolate mocha.” Shaun reached for the bag and opened it, pulling out the sealed coffee cup. He popped the lid and waved it under her nose, then moved it away when her eyes fluttered open.

  “What time is it?” she asked him.

  “Just gone two. Things took a little longer than I expected.” He offered her his hand and helped her sit up, then handed her the cup and bag. “I saw your sister while I was in town. She said she’s been trying to call you. Where’s your cell?”

  In the middle of investigating the contents of the bag, Cassie glanced up. “I must have left it in my car.”

  Shaun nodded. “You should call her. She was worried. Thought Sam had gotten his hooks back in you.”

  “What did you tell her?” She took a bite of the muffin and moaned in delight.

  Shaun’s lips twitched at her reaction. “I told her you were here, then followed her home so she could give me a change of clothes for you. I told her you’d … accidentally ripped your top. She also gave me a lecture to pass on to you, but that’ll keep until you’re done orgasming over that cake.”

  Cassie waggled a finger at him. “Don’t you insult the food of the gods!” Another bite and another moan and he raised an eyebrow.

  “I feel like I need to step up my game.”

  Cassie took a sip of mocha and gazed at him over the rim of the cup. “It’s a worthy life goal. Will you be able to achieve it though?”

  “You doubt my skills?” He ran a finger up her bare leg and retrieved her mocha with the other hand and set it down on the floor. “Think I can’t make you moan as well as that muffin?” He leaned over her, his lips hovering above hers, and sighed when his cell started to ring. He hesitated, then pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the display.

  “You have the worst fucking time,” he growled in greeting when he connected the call and moved away to sprawl back against the opposite end of the couch.

  Cassie settled back against the cushions, reached down for her mocha and sipped on it while Shaun talked to whoever was on the other end of the line. Other than his initial outburst, he seemed happy enough to chat.

  She shifted beside him, wondering if she should leave him to the call, and leaned forward to stand. A hand on her arm stopped her mid-movement and she turned her head.

  Stay, he mouthed at her and smiled when she curled back up beside him.

  Every few minutes, he’d look over at her, smile or wink, telling her without words he hadn’t forgotten she was there.

  She studied him covertly from beneath her lashes and found herself comparing him to Sam. Both were tall, but she thought Shaun had a few inches on her ex. Sam had short blonde hair, where Shaun’s was dark. Shaun’s also fell to just below his shoulders and he kept it tied back with a black band. Sam worked out and kept in shape but had nowhere near the lean sculpted muscles Shaun had. And then there were the tattoos. Sam didn’t have a single one, where Shaun’s entire right side and both arms were covered.

  The biggest difference between them, though, was their attitude. When she first started dating Sam, Cassie’s parents had been going through a trial separation and Cassie had been devastated. She felt as though her world was ending and Sam’s confidence and seeming stability had become her life-raft. He’d taken control of her life, given her structure and kept her grounded. Looking back, Cassie questioned whether that had really been the case or whether she had just been desperately looking for someone to replace her father. Her parents had reconciled six months after her relationship with Sam had started and, by then, he had sowed enough self-doubt for Cassie to believe Sam knew what was best for her.

  Shaun’s laugh – rich, dark and wicked – caught her attention and she refocused on him. He was so different from Sam. He didn’t seem to care what anyone around him thought. Once again, he’d taken her turning up at his house in his stride, embraced her insecurities and then given her a night she wasn’t going to forget in a hurry.

  She didn’t know if being with him so soon after breaking up with Sam was right, and it wasn’t something she would normally do, but there was something about Shaun that drew her in. He made her feel good, made her laugh and, god knows, she really needed a laugh in her life right now.

  She finished her drink and leaned over to place it on the floor, then kneeled to brush the crumbs from the muffin off the front of her … Shaun’s … t-shirt. When she lifted her head, it was to find his green eyes watching her intently. Cassie held his gaze, and slowly inched forward, closing the gap between them.

  Watching carefully for any sign of irritation or rejection, she slowly reached out and placed her hand on his thigh.

  Shaun said nothing, listening to the person speaking down the line, but his head canted slightly in a manner she was beginning to recognise as quizzical – his way of assessing a situation or maybe her mood – but he didn’t dismiss her, or turn away, so she crawled the rest of the way onto his lap.

  “Hang on, Deke,” Shaun said as she wriggled around trying to keep her balance. Cassie froze.

  Here it comes, she thought and waited for him to say something cutting. Sam had always frowned on her making the first move, he claimed it was the actions of a slut.

  He shifted his phone to his other hand, rested his palm against her hip and held her still while he eased back against the couch, then guided her legs either side of his thighs.

  “Okay, carry on,” he murmured into the mouthpiece.

  Cassie stared at him, and found him staring back, a challenge in his eyes. She tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, peeling it away from his chest so she could slide her fingers beneath, across the taut muscles of his stomach. When she felt those muscles tense, she stopped again. But Shaun merely smiled, handed her his phone, pulled the t-shirt over his head and threw it to one side, then retrieved his phone from her without missing a beat in his conversation. Cassie leaned back on her heels and stared at the to
ned, tattooed expanse of flesh bared before her and licked her lips.

  This … this was what had been invading her dreams for the past three nights. She had only caught a brief glimpse when he’d walked out of the shower, and her focus had definitely been elsewhere when she’d been in his bed the night before, but her mind had seen and catalogued every single inch of him and had taunted her with unbidden images ever since.

  God, he was beautiful, she thought.

  Cassie drank him in, the swirling tattoos along the right side of a torso that was all lean sculpted muscles and golden skin. Rocking forward, she pressed her lips to his shoulder, licked along the coloured patterns and felt a slight buzz dance across her skin at the connection.

  What was that? She felt it every time she touched him.

  She flattened both palms against his chest, feeling solid pectoral muscles beneath, and slid them down over male nipples that hardened beneath her touch and down further over the six-pack that, in her opinion, should really be called an eight-pack. As her hands moved over him, she could feel his hard, heated length pressing against her inner thigh, and she dropped one hand, burrowed it beneath the waistband of his pants, until her fingers could curl around him.

  He was big, her fingers barely touching, and she gave him an experimental stroke. His hips jerked upwards and she heard the breath leave him in a low groan.

  “Fuck, Cassie,” she heard him say, his voice rough. “Man, I gotta go. I’ll call you back.” And then his mouth crashed down on hers.

  She needed no further invitation, her lips parting willingly, and she met each thrust of his tongue with her own. The nails of one hand dug in into his arm and she arched against him.

  “Cassie … shit.” Shaun wrapped an arm around her waist, dragging her closer, while his free hand pushed between them and found the hot, wet centre of her. His thumb stroked across her sensitive bud, and he pushed first one, then two fingers deep inside.

  Her hips moved involuntarily, grinding against his hand, and she whimpered against his mouth. “Shaun … please.”

  “What do you want, Goldilocks?” He broke their kiss and tipped his head back against the couch, his fingers still moving inside her, while he watched her out of hooded eyes. “Tell me what you need.”

  “You. I need you.” His fingers slid in and out, and she could feel the pleasure building, intensifying, and she fought against it.

  Not like that.

  “How then?”

  Had she spoken out loud? Cassie blinked, felt him pull his fingers free of her body, immediately mourned their loss

  “Cassie?” His voice broke through her desire—fogged mind and her eyes flew up to his. “Take whatever you want.” Her hand was still wrapped around his length – hard, thick and long – and she felt her body spasm at the thought of taking him inside her. With a low moan, she pulled him free of his pants, and lifted herself up onto her knees.

  “Fuck … Cass … let me get a con—” his words broke on a guttural groan as she sank down onto him.

  Shaun’s eyes closed, feeling her wet heat surround him, take him deep, and rational thought fled. He and his wolf were in accord. This woman was theirs. Theirs to take, theirs to claim, theirs to protect. He surged upwards, twisting until Cassie lay beneath him and slammed the rest of the way home, possessed her, owned her.

  Her hands clutched at his shoulders, her legs bent, hooked around his waist as he thrust against her. He could smell her arousal, her passion rising, heating, taking her closer to release and he slipped one hand between their bodies to stoke the flames higher and higher until her body jerked once … twice … and she cried out, screamed his name, raked her nails down his back.

  Shaun threw his head back, caught himself about to howl, and bit down on his lip to stop it escaping. He could feel his own release building, spurred on by her body convulsing around him, by the sting of her nails, and the sounds she made as she broke apart beneath him.

  He needed to look at her, wanted to watch her face as she fell apart for him, but didn’t dare open his eyes. He knew they would be yellow, shining, wolf-like. Instead, he buried his face against the side of her throat and sank his teeth into the sensitive skin there. He marked her, branded her, claimed her.

  “Mine now,” he snarled, his voice a combination of both human and wolf, as he felt himself spill inside her. “Mine.”

  “Yes,” Cassie agreed without hesitation. “Yours.”

  To anyone looking in, Shaun appeared to be the picture of relaxation. He lay stretched out along the couch, eyes closed, one arm tucked beneath his head and the other wrapped around Cassie, holding her securely against him while she slept.

  The truth was, however, that while his body might have been at ease, his mind was racing. He’d claimed her – physically and vocally – agreed with his wolf that she was the one. He had acknowledged and accepted that this woman was his mate. He turned his head, breathed in her scent. Surprisingly, he was okay with that. More than okay, in fact. That wasn’t the issue keeping him awake.

  No, the issue was she had accepted his claim.

  Issue? Don’t lie to yourself, a little voice whispered inside his head. You’re glad she accepted it – with no questions and no arguments.

  It didn’t matter that she didn’t understand what she was agreeing to or that, for her, it had probably been nothing more than a heat of the moment thing. She probably thought he was just being all macho-male when he’d claimed she was his.

  He had claimed her, and she had accepted.

  She was human. She had no idea of the other beings that existed alongside her, or the way those societies worked. His kind were adept at staying hidden. Many of his people held positions of power within the human world. Which brought him to the problem keeping him awake – how to figure out if she would cope with his reality, or if she would lose her mind and freak out.

  He not only had to get her to understand what had happened between them was more than just a hook-up, a rebound from her recently ended relationship, he also had to introduce her to the world he lived in – both situations might very well send her running for the hills. He felt himself stir at the thought of chasing her through the forest, hunting her down, capturing her, and swore beneath his breath.

  “You’re a fucking animal,” he muttered. “Get a hold of yourself.”

  He eased out from under Cassie’s body, smiling at her mumbled protest. Once he was upright, he stretched, retrieved his sweatpants and pulled the throw from the back of the couch to tuck around her. He spent a minute hunting for his phone, which he finally located under the table a few feet away. Grabbing it, he padded quietly out of the room, hitting speed dial as he closed the door behind him.

  “Who is Cassie and were you actually fucking her while you were talking to me?” Deacon answered on the second ring.

  “You’ll meet her when you get here, and not the entire time we were talking, no.” Shaun entered the kitchen and switched on the coffee machine.

  Deacon chuckled. “Good man.”

  “You were saying something about heading down sooner?”

  “Yeah. A few of us will be heading to you tomorrow. Isabella turned up this morning. Her and Cormac have been locked away in his office, yelling at each other.” He paused. “Well, Isabella is doing the yelling. Not sure what Mac is doing, probably ignoring her.”

  Shaun snorted. No one understood what was going on between Cormac and Isabella.

  “About this girl … are you serious?” Deacon continued. “You’ve actually met someone in the back of beyond that does more than scratch an itch?”

  “I am, and I have. How are the relocation plans coming?” He changed the subject smoothly as he reached into a wall cupboard and took out two mugs.

  “There’s been a bit of resistance to the idea of leaving LA, but they’ll follow Mac’s lead. It’s time we moved anyway, a few of our pack have been here a long time and, while LA is a big place, people who don’t age at the same speed as everyone else kin
da get noticed after a while.”

  Shaun nodded absently, then grunted, remembering Deacon couldn’t see him.

  “So, talk to me about this girl …”

  “You’ll meet her tomorrow … maybe.” He heard the door to the living room open, and turned to watch as Cassie entered the kitchen, her scent weaving around him, and a faint blush stealing across her cheeks when she spotted him.

  “It is serious, then?”

  “Yeah, I kinda think it is.” He cut the connection without saying goodbye, tossed his phone onto the counter-top, and picked up the two mugs. “Coffee?”

  “I’d love a coffee … and a shower.” She tugged self-consciously at the t-shirt. “And a change of clothes.”

  Shaun nodded toward the table while he poured coffee into the two mugs. “Your sister sent clothes for you. They’re in that bag. I’m also supposed to say to you ‘what the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ and that you need to phone her immediately.” He handed her a mug. “I suck at relaying messages.”

  Cassie laughed softly, eyeing him over the rim of her mug. “You’re making this very easy.”

  “Making what very easy, Goldilocks?” He propped his hip against the edge of the table, arms folded across his chest.

  “This.” The blush on her cheeks deepened. “I thought it’d be more awkward, you know?”

  “I actually have no idea what you’re talking about.” He looked around for his own coffee, leaned across to pick it up and took a hefty swallow. “Well, that’s not strictly true. I think I know what you’re talking about, but I’m hoping I’m wrong, so spell it out to me.”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not imagining happy ever afters or anything like that. What happened was something I started. I’ll take a quick shower, if that’s okay with you, and then I’ll get out of your way.”

  “Get out of my way?” he repeated slowly.

  “Isn’t that how this works? I’ve never had a one-night stand before … ummm … dirty weekend? I’m not sure what the protocol is.”