Loving My Pack

by Lane Whitt

  I remain silent, just listening. “Then I realized that it wasn’t normal to remember everything from dreams, and they were always of you. You at different ages and different places. It freaked me out, and eventually I went to Albert about it. He had said before that he was with your father for all the research he used to do, so I wondered if he ever came across anything like that. He had, but he needed to find the book where it was mentioned.”

  “Where what was mentioned?” I frown, not following. I’m more hung up on the fact that this is strike two for Albert not telling me things he should have told me.

  “Dreamsharing. That’s what it’s called. There are a few texts that mention side effects of mating bonds. Dreamsharing is one of them. Basically, I dream the same dream you’re dreaming,” he explains.

  “What did the texts say? And why can’t I see your dreams? I don’t even dream, I just replay memories.” I try to get out of the bath, my mind too cluttered with unanswered questions to be able to relax. Jace tugs me back to him, shushing me.

  “I didn’t read them myself. Finn said he’d take a look. He’s better at research than either of us, so just try to relax. I’m not ready to let you go yet,” he pleads.

  Since Jace never pleads, I let myself relax back onto him, chewing my lip in thought. “You’ve seen the dreams recently?”

  “I have. They haunt me even when I’m awake. I thought if I slept at opposite times of you, it would help, but there’s too many people around here. Too much noise to sleep during the day.”

  “Ah, I get it. You tried to show me something from your past, because you thought you owed it to me. Because you’ve been seeing mine. And you woke me up the other morning because you thought it was going to a bad place.” I nod, now understanding.

  “Uh, now that you say it like that, I suppose that was what I was trying to do. You’re not angry that I’ve been invading your dreams?” He brings his hand up, turning my head so he can see my expression.

  “No, I have no right to be angry about that. It’s not as if you’re trying to do it, or that you even enjoy it. I don’t know why you wouldn’t just tell me, though.”

  “I thought I was crazy. I didn’t want you or the others to think I was crazy, too.”

  “Can you see in my head any other times?” I ask.

  He shakes his head slowly in thought. “No, and it’s not every time I sleep, or you sleep. It just happens randomly.”

  I flip myself around, resituating myself so my knees are on the outside of his and my arms are lightly draped over his shoulders. I try not to get distracted at the intimate position this puts us in. “Have you tried?” My voice is deeper than I intended it to be. I clear my throat and shake my head slightly to focus.

  “Tried…what?” he mumbles, his hands slicking over my thighs and the gold in his eyes starting to swirl with heat.

  I groan, backing away from him to sit on the other side of the tub. “See, this why you shouldn’t have avoided me. We can’t even have a conversation without wanting to…well, I’d say tear each other’s clothes off, but we’re already naked,” I giggle.

  Jace laughs as well. He takes a deep breath, a hand running through his hair, making me wet. It wet. Making his hair wet! “So, you want to know if I’ve tried to get in your head at other times? Like when you’re awake?”

  “Yes!” I reply too quickly, and probably too loudly. I lower my voice and add more calmly, “That’s what we were talking about.”

  He looks at me oddly before his expression changes, giving me a knowing look. “I know what you’re thinking right now,” he teases.

  Oh, I highly doubt he knows just how badly I want to crawl on top of him and ride him until my legs are shaking, my wet hands slicking up his lean chest and into his gorgeous, perfect hair, messing it up. The image of just what that would look like flashes through my mind.

  Jace gasps, his mouth hanging open as his whole body jerks. “Holy shit,” he breathes.

  “What?” I ask, alarmed at his sudden change in behavior.

  “I saw that. What you just thought…I saw it. That was hot, by the way. Is it always like that in your head?” he asks me.

  “I didn’t say anything out loud…I don’t think.” Or, at least, I hope not.

  He sits up on his knees quickly, leaning toward me and sloshing water over the side of the bath. “You didn’t. I was looking at your lips. Quick, try it again,” he demands.

  I wasn’t trying in the first place. Honestly, I don’t know if I want Jace to hear my thoughts, or see them, however it works. What if I’m thinking of the other guys, like the other day when I had three of them. I can’t help the grin that forms on my face as I remember pleasing Logan so well he passed out right after.

  “Oh, nope. Not that, I don’t want to see that. Ever!” Jace covers his eyes, shaking his head as if to remove the image from his brain.

  I reach my hand out to him, apologizing profusely. “Jace! I’m so sorry. I was trying to not picture anything like that and I guess it made me focus on it.” I instantly try to picture anything else. A favorite park of mine as a child, the library in their old house with books on shelves everywhere, a pretty yellow flower I once saw that fascinated me. “Does that help any? Those things are better, right?” I ask.

  He huffs out a breath, trying to relax. Sitting back how he was, I look on, worried. “What things? What are you talking about?” he replies.

  I pull up the three images quickly. A park, the library, and a flower.

  Jace blinks a few times. “Yes, those are better. Did you think of them a minute ago, too?” I nod quickly. “Hmm, maybe I can’t see what’s in your head if you’re touching me? Come here, let’s test this.”

  I move back to my position on top of him. Before I can stop myself, the intimate image from before assaults me as I accidentally brush against him on my most sensitive spot. Jace growls hotly, his hands coming up to grip the backs of my thighs. “Nope, I saw that, too,” he tells me.

  “Hmm, maybe you just blocked me out before, because you saw something you didn’t like and were afraid to see more,” I supply.

  “Possibly. But you were right before. It’s been too long and, as much as I want to figure this out, I’m not going to be able to focus until I’ve had you. I want you, Kitten. I need you. I promise we’ll figure this out, but I need to be inside you. Right now,” he says harshly, eyes heated and pleading.

  I don’t need to be asked twice. I lift myself slightly, Jace positioning himself where we both need him. I slide down carefully, making us both groan out our pleasure. I hold on to his shoulders in a firm grip and repeat the process, adding in a grind at the base of him to add more friction on my sensitive button. Arching my back, I thrust my chest toward him, imagining his hot mouth suckling at my nipples.

  Jace thrusts up into me, hard. “As you wish, Princess.” Only then do I realize he must have seen what I thought. This could come in handy.

  His hands caress my back, up over my shoulders, and he uses the new position to pull me down harder onto him. My breath escapes me faster, loving the feel of him inside and all over me. I think this might be my new favorite.

  As my pleasure builds, I fulfil my fantasy and get my hands into all that brilliant golden hair, ruining the perfection and presenting myself with a hot, sex-mussed version of Jace. The new look sends a jolt straight to my core, squeezing tightly around him. I rock my hips faster at his groan. I wish I could see his thoughts like he can see mine.

  And…just like that…I could. Only Jace’s thoughts were in words, not images like mine.

  “Lord, I hope she comes soon. This feels too good. I won’t last much longer,” I hear from him. I’m far too worked up to have a conversation right now, explaining that I can apparently hear him, too, so I just tuck this away for now. I come to a stop, taking a moment to reposition us both, with him slid down a bit in the tub, causing him to recline slightly and giving my knees more room. I sit up straight, my hands flat on his chest, nails
slightly digging in. I ride him. Ride him like my life depends on it, getting lost in everything but the sensations around me. The sight of Jace as he pants and groans out his pleasure, the smell of roses mixed with Jace’s expensive-man scent, and the friction and heat between my legs all work to send me crashing like a tsunami into a state of bliss.

  My head is still in an after-pleasure haze but I’m able to catch, “Fuck yes, pretty girl. Now my turn.” Jace moves so suddenly the world is a blur. In a split second I’m pressed up against the tile of the shower, my legs spread wide as strong arms pin them harshly to the wall, water cascading off of us both. Jace’s mouth presses into a hard line as he thrusts aggressively into me, lost in his own pleasure. It doesn’t take long at this pace for him to find his release. With a final thrust of his hips and an involuntary shout from him, I feel the warmth of his seed enter me.

  Jace crashes his lips to mine in a demanding kiss full of possession while wrapping my shaking legs around his narrow hips. On shaky legs himself, he steps out of the tub, grabbing an oversized fluffy white towel to drape around me, and carries me out of the bathroom. Once we reach his bed, he tosses back the covers and collapses with me on my back, his leg thrown over both of mine and his face pressed to my chest. Within ten seconds, he’s asleep.

  My entire body feels like jelly, but I manage to reach for the blankets to cover us both as best I can before closing my eyes and replaying everything that just happened. Picking out my favorite parts to save for when I want to remember them. I wonder if this new development between us really is a gift, or if it will be a curse.

  Jace

  I wake slowly, aware that I’m alone in my bed. Kitten must have snuck off sometime earlier this morning. I sit, scooting up till my back hits the headboard. I make a face at the still-damp sheets, but follow it with a satisfied smirk. While I may not be able to stand damp bedding, the reason behind it makes me quite pleased with myself. I only wish the lovely blonde was still here, lying naked beside me.

  Stretching my lazy limbs, my muscles pull in all the right places after a night gone well. Last night was the best sleep I’ve had in forever. Shocking, really, since I was able have the conversation with my mate that was responsible for keeping me awake most nights. She took the news better than I could have expected. Though, there’s yet another addition to our bond that we’ve uncovered.

  Food.

  I need food.

  I contemplate staying in bed a tad longer, but my stomach gives an angered growl of disapproval and the wet linens nag at me. I wrap the sheet around my waist and make my way to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and drying the floor as the bathtub drains from last night. I have to keep fishing out the rose petals that threaten to clog the drain. I had intended for the bath to be for Kitten only, but the circumstances changed and it only felt right to join her. I’m sure I’ll catch hell from the guys for smelling like flowers, but it was worth it. So very worth it.

  Stalking from my room, grumbling about leaving my favorite hair pomade in Logan’s bath, I shoot a glare his way as we pass in the hall. He chooses to follow me. “I left it in your room again,” I say, idly opening his door and strolling in.

  “I’ll help you with it again, if you want me to. I was thinking of changing my hair. What do you think?” he asks, jumping up to sit on the sink counter.

  I raise a brow at him, handing over the container of specialized, imported hair product. It may cost a small fortune, but they donate to charity and it makes my hair look amazing.

  “That depends. How crazy are we talking? Not pink again, I hope. Also, keep in mind that we have a woman now, and Kitten quite fancies your hair. She may not like if you go changing it.”

  “First off, I’ve already done the pink thing, and you’re an asshole for bringing that up. It was the ‘90s! We all did things we regret.” He pauses, then shudders.

  I smirk back at him in the mirror as he starts applying product to my hair with a comb. “You just thought about Ash and Remy during their grunge period, didn’t you?”

  He nods solemnly. “I did. It still haunts me. All that fucking flannel. Yikes.”

  “I hear it’s making a comeback,” I inform him.

  “Not in this fucking house, it’s not. Anyway, I was looking through Vogue Paris and I noticed that some of the trendier 1920s styles were coming back for those who are able to pull them off. You know, I always regretted wearing hats back then. I told Remy that going sans hat in public wasn’t a damn fad,” he rants.

  “You’re not talking about that atrocious helmet-head, part down the middle thing?” I ask with a horrified expression. “While it may have worked for Lucky Luciano, everyone else looked like they’d dipped their head in a toilet.”

  Logan laughs, nearly dropping my comb in the process and leaving a weird wave in my hair. I take it from him, fixing it before it has time to dry that way. “No, man, I was thinking of leaving it mostly like it is, but shorter on the sides and slicked back up top, using product like your pomade. I’d need an inch or two taken off up top. Besides, Kitten caught me watching reruns of Boardwalk Empire and she liked that Jimmy guy’s hair,” he explains, moving a few last strands until they lined up perfectly.

  I tilt my head side to the side. Yep, I look damn fine if I do say so myself. The dark blue knit sweater I’m wearing with a white colored shirt underneath and gold crest accent my eyes and hair nicely. Hmm, maybe I need to change out my watch to something smaller, as it seems to distract from the sweater.

  Logan snaps his fingers in my face.

  “Oh, right. I think you could pull it off. It might help showcase your high cheekbones, too. Will you keep that streak of blue?”

  He shakes his head, twisting his lips in thought. “Nah, I was thinking a more classic look, but keeping it moveable enough to keep it soft and not greasy. She hid it well, but Kitten’s pulse went apeshit every time a strand of Jimmy’s hair fell forward. She’s not allowed to watch that show anymore, by the way. I lied and said it was filmed a long time ago and that dude’s probably ancient by now. I’ll be damned if she finds out he’s still young and hot.”

  I have to laugh at this. “Really? You lied to her about that? What did you think she would do, leave us and go find that actor?” I shake my head in amusement.

  “Don’t be a shit. If you haven’t noticed, our girl is hot as hell and could get anyone she wanted. So, I don’t want her wanting anyone but us,” he states seriously. I choose not to argue with him, though I think he’s being an idiot.

  “You want my help with your hair? I know you can manage the cutting on your own, but I can get the clippers and make sure it’s even on the sides and back,” I offer.

  “Shit-yeah, my dude, you know I trust no one else.” He claps his hands together, excited about the new hairdo.

  I roll my eyes at him as I browse through his collection of hair products, looking for the one that’ll help wash out that blue. “I hate how you pick up slang, Logan. Why does it always have to be slang that annoys me?”

  He nudges me out of the way with an elbow, finding the right bottle and setting it off to the side. I go to the closet and pull out a hand-towel, handing it to him. He pulls his shirt off, placing the small towel around his neck, starting the water in the sink and getting it to temperature.

  “I do it because it annoys you,” he jokes. “Besides, it’s how Reed talks all the time. I’m still glad he found himself as a surfer-slash-artist back in the day,” he adds.

  I pull out a shampoo and conditioner set that I know both Logan and Kitten like, and gesture for him to stick his head under. I’ll need to use the color remover first, then the others. “I do as well. Before that, he was a tortured and misunderstood artist, either brooding in front of a canvas or brooding everywhere else. I don’t miss getting sunburnt in Hawaii and California every damn day, but that time period really changed him for the better. He’s happier now. I know he misses the waves and water, though,” I add with a frown. Maybe we can find time for h
im, Kellan, and Ash to surf.

  “Yeah, I think everyone but us misses the beach life. They don’t understand our skin tones. They’ve come a long way with sunblock, though. If it wasn’t for this large pack thing, I might even suggest we go back. The Hawaiians will always welcome us, even if they know about us. Their culture welcomes the supernatural.”

  I finish washing his hair in silence. Thinking to myself about what it would be like to escape from here and live near a beach, with Kitten in a bikini most of the time. It’s tempting. More tempting than it should be. After our family talk the other day, it made me realize that I’m not the only one feeling stuck and useless here. Something needs to change, that’s obvious. Maybe we will end up near the water again—who knows what’s possible anymore.

  Over the next few days, Kitten and I try to work out this newfound connection between us. All Finn was able to find out in his research was that only strong bonds formed between mates of equal domination levels could produce this side-effect. That’s it. We’re on own figuring out how it works and the best ways to use it.

  So far, we’ve figured out that the push and pull on both ends must be open for us to communicate. If I’m not pulling from my side, then it doesn’t matter if Kitten is pushing on hers. I won’t get the message. We’ve also learned that Kitten is able to hear me as if I’m speaking to her in her head, which drowns out anyone else around her, while I am able to see scenes playing in her mind like a movie.

  Finn’s estimated guess on this is that some people think in words while others think in images, and the two of us are just going to have to figure out how the other one thinks. Which is easier said than done, since whenever Kitten sends me an image I’m blind to everything else. I almost fell down the stairs once when she imagined herself floating high in the sky on a cloud, the ground far below her. I was so scared, I’m fairly certain I almost had a heart attack. I have to keep reminding myself that not everything I see from her is reality. Kitten’s imagination is vast and detailed. She may not be able to dream in R.E.M. sleep, but she can create worlds while awake if she wishes. I can see now why she’s such a great budding artist. With help from Reed, she might even surpass his abilities.