Too easy.
She smiled, eyes closed, breath shallow. “Do I?”
He chuckled, forcing brevity into the sound. He needed to get away from her. Before he did the unthinkable. Before he surrendered to what every fiber in his body demanded he do. “And you sound like a woman thoroughly sated.”
She opened her eyes and, before he knew what she was doing, she wrapped her fingers around his engorged length in a firm grip. “Close,” she said. “But not yet.”
His heart smashed into his throat. His blood roared hot in his veins, his ears. “Katy,” he stared down into her eyes. “Don’t. Don’t do—”
She flipped him onto his back before he finished the word and impaled herself completely on his length.
Joining them together.
* * * *
Oh God, oh God, Katy. No condom. No condom. What are you doing? He’s not wearing a condom!
The panicked thought lashed at her sanity, wild and feverish. And was silenced as the concentrated perfection of his erection embedded completely in her sex swept through her. Claimed her.
She closed her eyes for a moment, holding herself motionless as she allowed herself to focus on how incredible he felt inside her.
“Fuck me, Katy,” he whispered, his voice a husky whisper. “I can never let you go now. Never. You’re mine. Forever.”
She opened her eyes, lips curling as she rolled her hips, taking him deeper into her body. “Good.”
A shaky laugh rumbled in his chest and he grabbed her hips, pulling her harder to him as he slammed his hips upward. “Remember that, woman.”
Pleasure—hot and tight and exquisite—radiated through her. Never had it felt so right to have her body penetrated by another. Never had it felt like it was meant to be this way.
Rolling her hips again, she traced a finger over the mysterious tattoo on his chest. “When we’re finished, and you have the breath to talk again,” she said, squeezing his cock with her pussy as she did, “you’re going to tell me about this.”
“When we’re finished,” he growled, smoothing his hands up her back before drawing her upper body down to his, “we’re going to start all over again.”
The arrogant lust in his statement sent a wave of delight through her. Her pussy pulsed around his length once more.
She laughed, and then kissed him.
Rode him, slowly at first, teasing him with her lips and tongue, brushing her nipples over his chest, against his nipples, and then his hips began to thrust upward with increasing speed, and his groans became more raw. Wilder. Animalistic.
She tore her lips from his, pulling away from him enough to see his face.
He looked up at her, eyes burning amber-gold fire.
“Mine,” he said, the declaration more growl than word, teeth somehow sharper, longer behind his lips.
“Yours,” she whispered, the unnatural light in his eyes feeding her pleasure.
“Fuck, Katy,” he groaned, closing his eyes. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”
And with that, he gripped her hips with savage pressure, rolled her onto her back, and slammed into her. Over and over and over again.
Sensations detonated inside her, a cascade of pleasure firing along every nerve ending she had. She cried out, clawing at his back, as her orgasm consumed her.
Crashed through her.
Dean drove into her, his breath hot on the side of her throat, his rhythm growing erratic. Frenzied.
She heard him whimper her name into her shoulder, felt him shake his head, and then, just as she didn’t think she could erupt again, he came, each powerful thrust propelling her into her own release.
They came together, and—as one—came down together, their rhythm once again in perfect sync, their breaths mingling.
He lifted his head and gazed down at her, his eyes no longer glowing.
She studied him, waiting for him to say something.
When he didn’t, she touched her fingers to his cheek, reveling in the feel of his spent length still buried inside her. “This is the part in a movie where you would say ‘Welcome to Australia.’”
A haunted shadow seemed to fill his eyes for a split second, before he let out a loose chuckle, his lips curling in a slow grin “Welcome to Australia, Katy-Lin.”
He kissed her—a playful peck—and then withdrew from her body. “I’m going to take a dip. Join me?”
He didn’t wait for her answer. By the time she straightened to her feet, he was in the water.
“What is this place?” she called, walking towards the edge. “How can a pond like this exist in such an arid, empty landscape?”
He laughed, splashing her as he stood waist-deep in the water. “It’s called a billabong, woman, not a pond. And it’s part of the unique Aussie Outback experience you’re currently enjoying.”
She rolled her eyes. “Wild, earth-shattering sex one minute, walking, talking travel brochure the next. You are a strange man, Dean Singleton.”
He bowed, dipping his forehead into the water. “Ta muchly, love.”
Walking into the pond, she grinned at him when he straightened. “Hey, can I call you Dean the Dingo?”
“No.”
She laughed. “Singo the Dingo?”
“Not unless you want me to tan that delectable backside of yours.”
Drawing closer to him, the cool water sliding around her bare limbs, between her thighs, over her pussy, she smiled. “Singo the Dingo,” she repeated.
He grabbed her.
They made love in the water, her legs wrapped around his hips, his thrusts deep and slow and incredible as he worshipped her mouth and throat with his lips.
They came together, their cries rising to the cloudless blue sky.
A little while later, wordless and yet not separate, they climbed out of the pond. He took her hand, his fingers threading through hers with gentle possession.
She smiled, loving the way his palm pressed to hers.
She didn’t question why being with him felt so perfect, so right. It just did. He might be a stranger, but she knew him. In her soul, she knew him, which was insane, but the way it was.
He left her to get dressed with a lingering kiss. “I’ve got a spare set of clothes in my truck,” he said at her frown when he began to walk away. “For…shifter emergencies such as this.”
A little shiver rippled up her spine at his mention of what he was. Her brain tried to tell her she was freaking crazy for doing what she’d done with him—he’s not human, Katy, not human—but she told her brain to shut the hell up.
Tugging on her shorts, she allowed herself a moment to ponder the situation. Best sex of her life. Still missing uncle.
Not what she’d come to Australia for, that was for certain.
“Regroup time,” she muttered, snatching her torn shirt and bra from the ground. They’d find Uncle Martin, and then they’d…they’d…
What? Live happily ever after?
She closed her eyes, a weird pressure prickling over her scalp and at her temples.
“Katy?”
She squealed, the sound soft but clearly audible.
Turning, she looked at Dean, standing a few feet away, dressed in loose cargo shorts and an equally loose, open shirt.
Her breath caught. He was gorgeous, sexy. The picture of relaxed, easy-going charm and seduction. She could look at him forever. She could. Even now, just gazing at him made her feel more calm and content. And yet, she knew nothing about him except he was a dingo shifter and he knew something about Uncle Martin.
And that just being with him, in his company, feels wonderful.
He studied her. “You about to freak out?”
She nodded, her chest tight. “I think so.”
His smile stretched, warm and tender. “Fair enough. Let’s get you in my truck before you do. The sun’s starting to burn your skin.”
She touched her cheek with shaking fingers. “O-okay.”
He held out an arm to her. “C�
�mon. We dingoes don’t bite. Well, not often.”
A laugh bubbled up in Katy’s chest.
He smiled and removed his shirt. “Here.”
Katy frowned.
“I ripped your shirt and bra.”
“That you did.” She took his shirt and slipped it on. Her body instantly reacted to his scent and warmth lingering on the item of clothing.
They walked to his truck, a silence falling between them. There was nothing awkward about it. Katy liked it, which was weird given she’d never been one for long silences after sex with her previous partners.
None of them had been paranormal beings, though, had they, Katy? Or rescued you from Russian wolf men. Or made you want to laugh just with a self-deprecating comment.
Or made her feel utterly content by just walking beside her.
Whoa.
He opened the passenger door for her, watched her climb in, and then closed the door.
“Dean?”
He paused from turning away. “Yeah?”
“Is this weird? What’s happening between us?”
An unreadable light flickered in his eyes and then he grinned. “Hell yeah.”
She couldn’t help but laugh.
Silence fell over them again as he drove away from the billabong. She studied his profile, her head a whirlwind of confusion and contentment. The conflicted emotions continued to war for control of her thought process, churned her stomach. If he knew it was weird, what did that mean?
Another frown dipped her eyebrows.
“Wondering why we didn’t do it doggie style?”
Katy raised her eyebrows. “Okay, that is the best tension deflector I’ve ever heard.”
He winked at her.
She rolled her eyes, that surreal sense of comfort rolling over her again. “Tell me about you,” she ordered. She needed to understand what was going on, and perhaps knowing more about Dean might help.
“What do you want to know?”
“How old are you? What’s your favorite movie? Do you like to read? What do you do for a living? What’s the tattoo on your chest mean? How often are you a dingo?” She nodded her head. “To start with.”
He chuckled. “I’m thirty-eight—human years, over a hundred in dingo years, which makes me a spring chicken. Mad Max is my favorite film. The first one. I love to read, especially autobiographies. I dabble in property investment and seem to have a knack for it. The tat is an ancient Aboriginal dreamtime image about dingoes I got one night when I was sixteen and drunk, and I can stay in either human or dingo form for an indeterminate length of time, although I tend to stay in my human form.”
“Why?”
She almost missed the slight bunching of his jaw. “The allure of being an animal, a predator, is very…powerful. It’s easy for me to get lost in the savagery of that existence. And that savagery can seep into my life as a man if I’m not careful.” His Adam’s apple jerked up and down his throat. “I’ve been told I’m a Grade-A arsehole after being a dingo for a long time.”
Katy frowned. “You don’t seem very asshole-ish.”
“Dingoes, by nature, are playful,” he said, his focus on the arid land beyond the windshield. “But we are also a very ancient species. And very protective of our own. Threaten a dingo and things stop being playful and become…bloody.”
Playful. Bloody. Ancient. Katy’s head spun. Of those three words, only one would be on her list to describe a potential boyfriend.
Boyfriend? Seriously, Katy? You’re using the B word already?
“Any more questions?”
She licked at her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. “What do you know about my missing uncle? I found a piece of paper under the bed in my room above the bar. It had your initials on it, written in my uncle’s handwriting, along with that shed thing I went to last night. So tell me, why did Uncle M write about you?”
Dean’s jaw bunched again. His grip on the steering wheel intensified, his knuckles growing white. And then he let out a shaky sigh and shook his head. “Your uncle, Martin, is a nice bloke. Smart. He came to the Creek with evidence my species really existed. Evidence of me, my dual existence, before I moved to the Creek.”
“Before?”
He sighed again. “Before I came back to the Creek, I lived in Sydney. Not a lot of dingoes running wild there. I was young. I turned my back on my family here. Wanted the life of a city boy. But I’m not a city boy. Nor a city dingo. I fucked up one night—after getting in a brawl at a pub over fucking cricket, of all things—and spent the early hours of the morning in dingo form in King George Park. Big park. Sydney’s version of Central Park, I guess. I ran amuck. Footage of me was captured, and before I knew it, I was all over the news and Facebook: wild dingo runs free in the city. Thankfully, the other footage of me—footage that showed me shifting back into human form in an alley—never made it to public consumption.”
Katy swallowed. “Why not?”
He slid her a steady look. “Because the teenager who took it found himself faced with a very threatening, very pissed off naked guy who promised a whole world of grief if he didn’t destroy his phone right there and then.”
A cold finger traced up Katy’s spine.
“But,” Dean went on, returning his attention forward, “your uncle somehow found out about it. Followed a trail I didn’t think existed anymore and ended up in Kangaroo Creek.”
“And he saw you shift?”
He nodded.
A chill crept through Katy. She stared hard at Dean’s profile. “Did you…did you do…anything to my uncle?”
“No. He saw something he wasn’t meant to, but he’d been in the Creek for a while. We’d talked in the Longyard, shared a beer. This was before he knew I was the dingo shifter he’d been tracking. Before I knew why he was here.” He stopped, once again glancing her way. “Your uncle is a nice bloke, Katy. I wouldn’t hurt him, or let anyone in my pack hurt him, either.”
“Your pack?” Okay, so her mouth was dry again. “How many of you are there?”
“In my pack? Or dingo shifters?”
“Both.” Her head was spinning again. A freaking tornado of worry and excitement and fear.
“In Australia, to the best of my knowledge, there are over one hundred dingo shifters.”
She blinked.
“Here at the Creek? Three. There used to be more—my family—but they died while I was in Sydney. Now it’s just me, my beta, Cam, and his wife Lucy.”
“The couple who are pregnant,” she said, even as she still reeled at the number. Over a hundred people in this country who were dingo shifters?
God, could she take any more of this kind of thing? Dingo shifters, wolf shifters… What other kind of creature lived and breathed amongst an unknowing society? Or did most of society know, and she was just one of the clueless?
Not clueless. Uncle M has been talking about what Dean is, his kind, people who can change from human to animal for as long as you can remember. You just chose to think he was a little loopy, is all.
“The couple who are pregnant,” he repeated. Her stomach fluttered at the genuine happiness and love in his voice. She studied his profile again. What he was, what he could do, was beyond her brain to comprehend. It was the stuff of Hollywood, not reality. It was scary. And yet, at the joy in his voice as he spoke of his pack, she realized any fear she had of him was long gone. Not drowned by her sexual hunger and desire for him, but lost to the sense of rightness she felt with him.
“You said you don’t know where he is?” she said, heart racing. “Last night near the shearing shed. When you were…on top of me, holding me to the ground.”
“Before you ran off into the night, trying to get away from me, you mean?” He grinned.
“Yes.” Her cheeks grew hot. Who would have thought she’d ever feel stupid about running away from a man who could change into an animal? “Then. You said you didn’t know where Uncle M is, but you said you wished you did. And you didn’t look happy about it.”
“I think,” he began, before pausing. His knuckles whitened again, his grip on the steering wheel twisting. “Until you turned up, I didn’t think he was missing. Just that he’d been freaked out by what he’d seen and taken off. I’ve known of humans committing themselves to institutions after witnessing something like that. But now I know that’s not…”
He didn’t finish.
Katy frowned. “What? Not what?”
“We’re here,” he answered.
Still frowning, she twisted in her seat.
They’d arrived back at Dean’s home, the electronic gate slowly inching open to reveal not only his house, but a shiny black Range Rover in the driveway.
A tall man climbed out of the driver’s side as Dean drove up to the house, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes as he watched them approach.
“Who’s that?” Katy asked, her pulse thumping in her throat.
“Cam.” Dean pulled on the handbrake and killed the engine. “And I hope to hell he’s here with good news about your uncle.”
Chapter 5
Dean strode toward his beta, fighting the agitated energy thrumming through him. He’d told Katy so much. More than he’d planned. What he hadn’t told her was that they were now mated for life. Why? He didn’t know if she was. He also refused to tell her he suspected Wedge Grayson had something to do with her uncle’s disappearance.
He wanted all the facts before he told her something like that.
Protecting her. Not just physically but emotionally and mentally. She may not be bound to you for life, but you sure as shit are bound to her.
“Tell me what you found out,” he instructed as Cam met him at the rear of the Range Rover.
The sound of Katy closing her door behind him made him look over his shoulder.
She frowned at him, and then at Cam.
“She’s wearing your shirt,” Cam pointed out.
Dean turned back to him. “She is.”
Cam waited, clearly expecting more. Dean didn’t give it to him. The conversation would take place, about what had happened between him and Katy, about what he’d told her, but not now. Now, all he wanted to discuss was what Cam knew about Martin McCoy.
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