by Aline Hunter
“Who am I then?”
“You’re the man who walked me to class and carried my books.” A crease formed between her eyebrows and her breath caught. She dropped her gaze and stared at her hands. “You’re the man who opened doors, pulled out my chairs and acted like an utter gentleman.”
Now for the hard question, the one he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to. “What am I, angel eyes?”
“A man.” She spoke so softly that even with his superior hearing he had to strain to hear.
“Are you sure about that?”
“You might be able to change into something else but when it comes down to it you’re a man. I’ve seen you. I know what kind of person you are.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“It’s a good thing,” she replied, nodding. “There are men who have no excuse for their actions but they hurt people just the same. They do horrible things. Evil things.”
He stroked her hair, indulging in his desire to touch her. “What kinds of evil things, sweetheart?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she replied in a lifeless monotone. “I was so stupid, so ignorant.”
“Who told you that?” he snapped, livid at the insults and only God knew what else his mate had received from her relatives. It wasn’t any wonder she’d risked her life by running. “Your family? Your uncle?”
“Told me what?” she whispered and peered up at him with her large, doelike eyes.
“That you’re stupid and ignorant.”
“No one had to tell me.” She ducked her head, avoiding his gaze. “No one had to. I realized it not long after…” Her soft inhalation was smooth but her rough exhalation revealed her nervousness. “After what happened, after you were gone,” she murmured, “I knew I’d made a mistake.”
A mistake.
Hope was a bastard emotion, something Emory didn’t want to give life if he didn’t absolutely have to. Unfortunately the fucking sensation washed over him, cocooning his heart in warmth.
“What mistake?”
“Running away,” she finally confessed, trembling as she did. “Treating you like I did.”
“What you did is understandable.” He willed himself not to push her too hard or ask for too much. “You were in shock and learning what I was couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t, but after I had all the facts I knew I had been wrong about a lot of things.” She paused and asked, “How did you find me?”
His stomach knotted. How in the hell did he answer that question without scaring her? If he mentioned her family, she might ask what had happened to them. He didn’t want to be the man pulling the short straw and revealing everyone she’d left behind—with the exception of her bastard uncle—were dead.
“After I discovered you weren’t at your uncle’s farm, I did some research. I remembered our conversation about your parents and the trip you said you had to make to Florida to retrieve the savings your parents had left for you. It wasn’t hard to track you down once I had a general location. I had a member of the pack work his mojo and put a trace on your attorney’s phone once we figured out who he was. The call you made to him a couple of days ago gave me your location.”
“Another notch on my wall of stupid,” she muttered.
“You are not stupid.” He didn’t mean to sound so angry but it was impossible to be nurturing and supportive when his mate seemed determined to put herself down. “You’re one of the most intelligent people I know.”
When she lifted her head and their gazes met, he knew she’d face her fear of him or she’d run because of it. There was no way to contain the feral portion of him—not now. He knew his eyes were glowing, that his canines, although high in his gums, were now pointed in an unnatural way. She took in the changes, starting with his eyes before lowering her focus to his mouth. He waited, holding his breath, hoping against fucking hope that she’d end his torment.
Seconds ticked by like hours, so slowly he thought he’d go mad. Then Mary brought her hands to his shoulders and rose to her tiptoes. She frowned, shifted her feet, and her fingers tickled the back of his neck when she brought her right hand around and applied pressure, urging him to lower his head.
“Come here.”
He obliged, lowering his chin as he wrapped his hands around her waist. “How’s this?”
Her reply came in the form of physical contact—a cock-rocking kiss that set him on his heels. The moment her lips brushed his he was a goner. His mate had come to him without pressure, without fear and without restraint. She’d made the decision on her own, without any outside influence, and now waited for him to make the next move.
“I’m not afraid of you,” she whispered, the smell of her growing desire caressing his nose. “The others frighten me but you…I know you won’t hurt me.” She moaned when he grasped her by the ass and lifted her feet from the ground, bringing them hip to hip and chest to chest.
Open for me, sweetheart. Open for me.
When she did, he dipped his tongue inside her mouth. Taking it slow might have been the way he’d planned to go but fast suited him just as well. Mary was uncertain at first, meeting the teasing swirls of his tongue with cautious ones of her own. He growled and kneaded the globes in his hands, encouraging her to let herself go. His nose told him she was excited, her scent calling to him in ways that had his muscles quivering in anticipation. It was time to put his dreams to rest.
Who needed fantasies when the real deal was in his arms?
He thought the battle was over when she wrapped her legs around his waist and her panty-clad cleft nudged his denim-encased cock. A corresponding jerk and tightness in his sac was immediately followed by the wet sensation of semen coating the head of his dick and the inside of his jeans. Her eager little hands twined in his hair and tugged as she deepened the kiss and mirrored the laps of his tongue.
Hurry the hell up or you’ll finish before she’s started.
As he carried his mate from the room, he changed his tune. Hope was not a bastard emotion. He took the notion back, more than happy to swallow the words and force them down his throat.
Right here, right now—he entered his bedroom and closed the door with a flick of his heel—hope was a fine fucking thing indeed.
Chapter Three
Mary couldn’t believe she was acting so bold and brazen, without a hint of shame or shyness. One minute she was fighting her longings. The next she decided she had nothing left to lose.
She could have died last night.
She could have been dead, gone—buried.
But she wasn’t. She was alive because of Emory.
She didn’t know how he’d found her or what he wanted, but none of it mattered. The life she once had was over. She couldn’t go back, only forward. If Emory decided the thing between them could only last in the short term, she’d accept the heartache and loss when the time came. Regardless of how he’d found her, or how long he intended to keep her and what waited on the horizon, she would have this for herself.
Emory made her feel safe. He made her feel wanted. And it had been so long since she’d felt either of those things.
Long gone was the timid and shy girl who was afraid she’d make a fool of herself sexually by doing something wrong. Apparently things weren’t as difficult as she’d once believed. Who knew that a virgin could get a man so ready and eager by reacting on instinct, grasping the bull by the figurative horns and letting her hormones take control? Emory was no longer the calm, restrained individual who handled her with kiddie gloves. He’d been replaced by a primal creature who kissed her with such intensity she wondered if he’d consume her with his hunger.
He bent at the waist and her back met the soft cushion of a down comforter. The contrast wasn’t lost on her. Hard muscles and flesh above, soft feathers and cotton beneath. As soon as she was balanced on the bed Emory’s hands left her ass and wandered upward, skimming along her waist and rib cage until her breasts were cupped in his hands. He squeezed his f
ingers, brought his thumbs around and rubbed them in a dizzying circle across her nipples. A jolt of fiery electricity spiraled from her stomach to her sex, so strong she arched her back and pushed the mounds into his hands.
“Beautiful, Mary,” Emory groaned against her lips. “So soft.” He tugged at her nipples through her bra, dragging another moan from her throat. “So sensitive.”
“Please.” She had no idea what she was begging for as she squirmed beneath him. All she knew was a fire had erupted in her body, a humming tingle that was slowly spreading from the hard peaks trapped within Emory’s fingers to the damp heat between her legs. Emory’s touch had always made her sizzle but it had never made her burn so hot she couldn’t remain still.
“I’m going to.” His lips drifted from her mouth, creating a path that wound down her chin and stopped at her throat. “I’m going to please you in so many ways, show you so many different things. I’m going to make you feel so good, sweetheart.”
He released her breasts, trailed his fingers along her abdomen and tugged on the hem of her T-shirt. She lifted her hips, aiding him in bringing the material up her body and over her head. Cool air caressed her skin, scattering goose bumps along her body. Emory tossed the garment aside and ran his lips along her collarbone, lapping at her heated flesh with his tongue as he eased his way down. Her stomach muscles clenched when he brushed his chin over her right nipple, the bristles along his jaw catching in the lace of her bra. The teasing touch wasn’t nearly enough and she arched her back again, trying to get him to direct his attention to where she wanted it most.
“Be still, mate.” Emory growled, the sound a low drumming in her ears.
Mate? She writhed uncontrollably, unable to do as he ordered, feeling as though her body were being consumed by flames. Diskant had referred to Ava as his mate. Perhaps it was common terminology in a pack. Her excitement grew at the thought. If Emory thought of her in that context, perhaps there was more between them than physical attraction, something that would extend their relationship beyond the pleasures of sex.
“Mate?” she questioned, running her fingers along the muscles that stretched and flexed in his shoulders.
Emory hesitated, his mouth hovering just over her nipple. When he didn’t continue she wrapped a hand around his neck, encouraging him to keep going. “Please,” she repeated, louder this time, and cried out when Emory pulled away and glared at her. His eyes were no longer brown but entirely molten amber.
“Still, Mary. Now.”
Was he nuts? She couldn’t be still. Not like this. “I can’t help it,” she complained, trying to do as he asked. “I’ve never felt like this before.”
His forehead smoothed as his face softened in understanding but the brightness in his irises didn’t dim. “Neither have I, but we have to talk. I want you so much I can’t breathe but I won’t take away your choice. We can’t take this further until you know everything. You have to understand where this leads.”
“Talk is overrated.” She clawed at his back when he tried to lift away. She knew exactly where this would lead—to the sex she’d always dreamed of. Emory would make love to her so thoroughly he’d leave an invisible brand behind, something to keep her company on the cold nights she anticipated would come soon enough. Tomorrow be damned. To hell with the bullshit, the danger and the unknown. Electricity hovered in the air, a direct link between the two of them.
What more was there to discuss?
“There’s no going back.” Emory groaned when she arched her back and pushed her hard nipples into his chest, his body quaking against hers. “Once I have you I’ll never let you go.”
Too many factors prohibited her from echoing the declaration so she pushed her doubts aside, blind to everything but the man above her. Actions were so much better than words, especially when a simple caress—such as her fingertips whispering along his neck—caused Emory to close his eyes and growl low in his throat, the deep vibration humming against her breasts. The shadow along his jaw was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. When she lifted her hand and rubbed her knuckles against his chin she learned it was bristly but surprisingly soft as well.
“I’m trying to do the right thing, damn it.” He snaked his fingers around her wrists and forced her arms over her head. “But you’re not making it easy.”
They stared at each other, panting softly, chests touching. His hair had fallen over his forehead, a few of the strands along his neck caught in the bristles on his cheek. Golden eyes seemed to look through her, as though he could touch her very soul. The moment was more than intimate. It was as if something snapped into place. The connection was baffling but impossible to ignore.
And it wasn’t the first time she’d felt it.
Back when things were uncomplicated, she’d experienced the same emotion, as though something inside her recognized Emory as her other half, the one person to complete her.
How is that possible?
“You feel it, don’t you?” Emory murmured.
“I don’t understand.” And she didn’t, not at all. This was more than sex, something that she realized would change her life forever.
“We’re meant for each other.” Emory dipped his head and feathered his lips over hers. “The first time I saw you, I knew. I wanted you so much it hurt.”
“But…” She struggled to find words. “You never said anything.”
“I wanted to,” he hissed when she unconsciously shifted her hips, pressing her thigh against his thick erection. “You have no idea how hard it was to keep my hands off you.”
“Then why did you?” God knows if he’d made a move she wouldn’t have stopped him.
“I didn’t know how deep your ties to your family were. I wanted you to trust me before I told you the truth. I didn’t want you to be afraid of me.” A flash of pain crossed his face. “You ran from me when you learned what I am.”
“I’m so sorry.” The hurt in his expression caused something in her chest to break—hard. “When my family…all the guns…and then you…” She gulped. “I panicked.”
“Understandable.” He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “There’s nothing we can do to change what happened. Dwelling on the past won’t do either of us any favors. We can only move forward. That’s why it’s so important that I’m honest with you now, that you understand exactly what you mean to me.”
“Mate?” she whispered, remembering he’d put a stop to the heavy petting when she said the word. “Is that what you mean? Is that what you want me to be?”
“No, that’s not what I want you to be.” She frowned and he corrected, “It’s what you are. Mine. My mate.”
Then it all clicked.
This wasn’t casual sex. He didn’t want her for a quick romp.
Emory wanted to make her his.
A crease formed between Mary’s brows as she processed the information he’d given her. Her lower lip vanished between her teeth and he clenched his jaw, forcing back a growl of need, want and desire. No one had affected him like Mary and no one would. That was what she needed to understand and come to terms with.
Finally, she asked, “Is that shifter lingo for girlfriend?”
He grinned at how perplexed she sounded. “No, angel eyes. It means you’re my other half. The woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
Her beautiful brown eyes went wide. “You don’t even know me.”
“Don’t I?” He rolled his hips so that his jean-clad cock made contact with her pussy. Her eyes slid closed and she moaned.
“It’s chemistry.” Mary sighed, arching her back. “You don’t have to know someone to share that.”
The wolf inside him snarled, wanting to prove just how wrong she was.
Hell no.
He would not allow her to think chemistry was the only thing responsible for her reactions to him. He moved away from her, so a sliver of distance separated their bodies. She opened her eyes and glared at him, her sexual frustration apparent as her full lip
s pursed into a sexy frown.
“There’s more than chemistry at work here. Concentrate on your emotions, think about the way you feel.”
“Right now I feel annoyed,” she grumbled.
“But you feel secure too, don’t you?” He left her wrists go and trailed his fingers down her arms. “You’re in a room with me, all alone in bed. But you’re not scared. You’re not running away. In fact, you’re burning me alive with the way you smell, how you fit against me and how eager you are.” His nostrils flared as he pulled her scent into his nose. He floated in the fragrant scent of her pussy—hot, sweet and all Mary—and his cock throbbed as he imagined tasting for the first time.
Her scowl slowly faded. “I’ve always felt safe with you,” she confessed, cheeks turning a breathtaking shade of pink. “I’m not sure why.”
“It’s because deep down you know you’re meant for me.” He met her gaze. “You know we’re meant for each other.”
“That’s not possible. Love at first sight only happens in cheesy romance movies.”
“What we have is more than love at first sight.” He skimmed his finger along her shoulder. “In fact, what I want to share with you makes love laughable in comparison.”
She trembled when he lowered his body so they touched once more. “You’re trying to tell me something.”
He chuckled. Christ, the woman drove him insane. He’d been trying to tell her something since he’d gotten her into bed. Hormones certainly played a part in her confusion. Mary wasn’t a horny, sex-crazed female who wouldn’t care about tomorrow. Her intelligence surpassed many people he knew, including members of his pack who had degrees in fields that required dizzying intellect.
“I’ve already told you but I’ll repeat myself for your benefit.” His finger dipped down the center of her chest and he made lazy circles in the area between her breasts. “Once I have you, I’ll never let you go. After we make love a bond will be formed that can never be broken.”