Naughty Bits

by Lacy Danes

  Air whooshed out of me and I gasped for more, rising up to do it all again, and again. A fast rhythm set in, my hips rocking, his fingers gripping tight on the back of my thighs. Sensation swirled through me like a glittering river behind my eyes, tingling through my veins, sizzling over every nerve ending. Faster, deeper, harder—the pressure swelled, pushing up from my belly, squeezing through my chest, thick and tempting in my throat. Right there. Almost. A promise of ecstasy I couldn’t resist a moment longer.

  Like a swollen river overflowing its banks, sensation crested then gushed, liquid hot, from my head, down my neck and chest, shuddering through my belly and legs and out my toes. My release quaked through every muscle, my sex pulsating around his cock until the stimulation grew too much for him to deny.

  “Fuck…Mattie…yessss…” A burst of frantic thrusts sent my body cascading over into another release with Anthony trailing close behind.

  I collapsed boneless against him, satiated. My breathing slowed, found a natural rhythm with the galloping beat of my heart. I rested my cheek on his shoulder and sighed. “Ready to go again?”

  I wasn’t; I just liked freakin’ him out. Imagine my surprise when he tensed beneath me and his cock stirred between my walls.

  “Gimme a minute,” he said low and breathy.

  When I lifted my head to look at him, a set of bright, blinding lights glared in my eyes then traveled the edge of the pavilion and stopped. Headlights.

  Public nudity. Lewd and lascivious behavior. Trespassing. And those were just the charges I could think of off the top of my head.

  “Park security.” I didn’t bother to wait to see if I was right about the car idling in the parking lot above the pavilion. Adrenaline surged through my tired, aching limbs and I jumped to my feet. Two strides had me across the picnic table. I jumped, shifting before my feet hit concrete.

  “Hey! Hold it! What is that?” Flashlights swept over me before I swerved and they lost me to the shadows.

  “All’s I’m sayin’ is, if you don’t choose a mate by the end of the Gathering this weekend, they’ll choose one for you,” my mom said while she screwed the metal lid back on the sugar dispenser. I could see her slide it across the counter to the herd of filled jars from the corner of my eye. She reached for one of the empty containers and started the process all over again.

  Two-thirty at the Banebridge Pop & Pup Diner was always slow. I loved the place, but after my dad was shot and killed three years ago by a farmer for poaching his sheep—he wasn’t—so much about the diner had changed. Nothing you could see though.

  “They can choose all they want. Doesn’t mean I’ll take some wolf I hardly know as my mate. No matter what those animals think, we’re not living in the dark ages.” I shoved a stack of paper napkins into the spring-loaded dispenser and got my finger pinched in it—again.

  “Mattie, honey, you’re in for a rude awakening. Most werewolf males aren’t like your father.” She loaded the filled sugar dispensers onto a plastic tray and walked around the counter to grab it from the other side. “Sometimes I think it was a mistake raising you the way we did, treating you the same as we did Donny.”

  My brother Donny, the pup in “Pop & Pup,” firstborn and only male, apple of my parents’ eyes and dead at twenty-seven. T-boned by a driver who tried to make a yellow light. Stupid.

  “Too late now,” I said. “I love ya, Mom, but I am who I am. I won’t be some cocky alpha’s subservient female. I can’t. I don’t care what they think. That’s why I stopped going to the Gatherings. It’s also why I’m not going this year.”

  Mom’s whole body froze midstretch across a table, sugar dispenser in hand. “What do you mean you’re not going?” She straightened with a leashed hellfire look. “The Gathering’s the only time of year we’re all together. Packs are coming from all over. There’ll be food and games. You’ll be able to visit with friends and family you haven’t seen in years.”

  “It’s a meat market, Mom.” I scooped the metal napkin holders into my arms and walked through the tables depositing them. “And this year will be worse than ever since I’m the meat du jour. Everyone knows I have to choose a mate or risk the pack being split by lesser males.”

  She smiled, all caring and momlike. “Well, honey, you’re a beautiful girl. Any man would feel lucky to have you. And you’re the highest-ranking member of a fairly large pack. A pack, thanks to Daddy, that’s financially secure.”

  “Rich, you mean.”

  “Yes. The point is we’ve got no males old enough or strong enough to take over as alpha and none of the females outrank you.”

  “They’ve never tried.” Being the daughter of the strongest male and female made challenges for my position rare. But like any healthy wolf I was always up for a good fight.

  “That’s beside the point. Since Donny passed away the pack falls to you and, as much as you might like to wish otherwise, a woman cannot hold a pack on her own. You must take a mate or one will take you, and the rest of us with you. Heaven help us if a Purist sets his sights on you.”

  My stomach knotted at the thought. My dad was a modern werewolf, believing in women’s rights, partnership with his mate and a kind of democracy within the pack. Purists believed wolves like my dad would destroy our species by allowing women too free a hand and slowing down birth rates by giving them a choice in the matter. To call them chauvinists would be an insult to chauvinists.

  “I won’t let that happen, Mom,” I said, looking her in the eye. “Promise.”

  She smiled, but her lips trembled trying to hold it. She was scared and that scared me. I turned away, pretending that placing napkin dispensers required my full attention.

  Mom had good reason to be scared. Wolves mate for life. But Purists chose to forgo the pesky limitations of a life mate and enforced pack polygamy. One of the first things a Purist would do, after fucking me, was stake his claim on every female in the pack, married or not—including my mother. To a Purist every pack member belonged to him and should carry his scent. He’d screw all the females and banish any males he saw as a threat.

  Some women chose that lifestyle—at least that’s what they’d say if you asked. But usually they were seduced into it. They actually believed the guy when he told them they were special. Never mind that the Purist male says that to all the females in his pack. By the time they figure out the lie, it’s too late.

  “I’m nobody’s possession and I’m certainly not gullible enough to believe a Purist’s line of bull,” I said. “No guy’s that good-looking or charming.”

  The cowbell over the front door rang and Mom and I both looked. But I could already smell it was Anthony. The scent of fresh air, forest and wild hay swirled through the diner before him like an outstretched hand. My heart skipped, my body warmed with memories of last night and so many other nights we’d spent together over the past six months.

  “Hello, Mattie.” His voice vibrated through my chest and straight on down to lower regions that went all warm and moist at the sound.

  Okay. Problem. I’d accidentally on purpose forgotten to mention to Mom that I’d been seeing Anthony since the day after Donny’s funeral. Why? Two reasons. One, I was worried she’d remember him, go ape-shit, and forbid me to see him. And two, I was afraid he’d charm her into not remembering him, go ape-shit, and nag me to marry him. You see? A no-win situation. Trust me.

  So I played dumb. “Hi. Welcome to Banebridge Pop & Pup Diner. Have a seat anywhere and I’ll be right with you.”

  He opened his mouth like he’d say something, but read my narrow-eyed expression and changed his mind. Good boy. He went to the side wall lined with tall windows and red cushioned booths without a word and slid into the fourth booth from the front.

  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 sit
ting 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 than 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 on
ly 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 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.