by C. D. Gorri
Always him. This was not doing her any good. She’d have to forget him if she was to have a life of her own someday. There was simply no room in Mike Bellamy’s heart for Claire Freemont.
Mike slammed the stove door shut and the noise jolted her from her musings. Heat seemed to fill the room almost immediately. It was toasty and nice. She wanted to move closer to it, but her feet remained firmly planted on the floor.
CHAPTER 4
“For God’s sake, Claire, I’m not going to bite you. Take your coat off, it’s dripping on the floor,” he murmured loud enough for her Werewolf ears to hear.
“Sorry,” she answered and took off her long trench coat to reveal a charcoal grey business suit with knee-high, red leather boots.
He liked the flash of color and the way her expensive skirt and jacket hugged her slender frame. Her hair was confined in some kind of knot at the nape of her neck, and he wanted to pull it free. Hell, he wanted to free all of her from the finery of her work clothes and that professional mask she wore. She seemed unshakeable. Perfect even.
“Why don’t you see if I have something in my bedroom more comfortable than that,” he eyed her up and down and chuckled when she backed up and almost tripped. She narrowed her blue eyes at him and took off for his bedroom.
Damn, she was beautiful. And she was hell on his nerves. It occurred to him that she probably believed the rumor mill about his supposed fairy-tale marriage. He should probably set her straight, but before that he wanted to make sure.
He closed his eyes and ignored the low growl of his Wolf inside his mind’s eye. He knew the beast was peeking through his eyes when she emerged moments later from his bedroom in a pair of too big sweats and a long-sleeved flannel shirt from his closet. She was folding the waist band of the sweats over, and he got a view of perfect, pale skin from across her abdomen.
His Wolf growled possessively inside his mind, and he was almost certain she felt it in their faint Pack bonds. She made no sudden moves, and he wondered if she felt like prey inside his home, his territory as it were. She stepped carefully across his floor. He noticed her feet, they were so small and bare.
“No socks? I’d have thought you learned something from the last time,” he grinned as he looked at her neat, unpolished toes.
“I hate shoes and socks when I’m inside. I hope that’s okay?”
“That’s fine, so do I,” he said and indicated his own currently bare feet. He’d stepped out of his work boots almost the second she’d left his sight.
“I like that window, but don’t you feel like a fish in a bowl up here?” She pointed to the large glass window behind him.
“Yeah, well, you know Wolves don’t like to feel confined, so I had this special one-way glass installed. You can’t see in. I hate curtains,” he shrugged a little self-consciously, and she smiled.
“Me too.”
“Hungry?”
“Not especially.”
“Well, I am,” but he didn’t mean for food.
Somehow, he knew she understood that. Her blue eyes flashed like lightning and went directly to his mouth. Yes, she knew exactly what it was that he hungered for.
He took a step towards her, delighting in the way her eyes opened wider at the small movement. Mike loved the way her blond hair reflected the light that filtered in through the windows. She was tall and graceful. Even in sweatpants.
A perfect picture of what every man wanted in a wife. Beautiful, smart, sexy, loyal. She was all those things and more, and he wanted her. He was tired of living a lie.
He hadn’t died when his wife did, despite the rumors. He wanted to feel alive again. He wanted to feel love. He wanted her, with a bone deep craving that was starting to eat him alive. He moved across the room and tugged on her hand until she was flush against his hard body.
“But you don’t like me-”
“Don’t I?” He whispered the words as he bent to her mouth.
“Mike?” Her voice was softer than usual and a little high-pitched. He growled deep in his throat as desire swept through his body.
“Shhh, I don’t want to talk right now.”
“Then what do you want?”
“This,” he bent his head and fastened his mouth to hers in a rough kiss that seared the sensitive flesh of her lips.
He swallowed her gasp and gripped her hip with one work roughened hand while firmly holding her face in place with his other one. She tasted of peppermint and maple sugar. Sweet and bright, like candy on his lips.
He pushed past hers with a long, slow sweep of his tongue. The heat from her mouth seeped into his. She shivered against him, and he felt a fierce, masculine pride in his ability to do just that. So sweet.
He pushed her legs apart with his knee and moved them both across the room until her back was up against the exposed brick wall. He cushioned her head with his hand as he pressed himself firmly between her parted thighs, allowing her to feel the full proof of his arousal.
He ached with need. He lifted his mouth and stared into her eyes with a wicked gleam in his own. No lies. He wanted nothing between them, but the truth.
“I’m seventy-six years old,” he said and laughed when her eyes went wide.
“You look about thirty,” she replied shocked.
“I’m in my prime, Claire, have no doubt. I’ve got more than enough life left in me.”
“I don’t doubt it, Mike, but why me?”
“Are you so blind, little one? I’ve wanted you from the first time I saw you standing outside my bar, struggling under the weight of two cases of whiskey in that little dress with the pink roses all over it. You had high, strappy sandals on your tiny little feet and all that gorgeous hair of yours pulled back in a braid. I wanted to walk right up to you and tug it free and lay you down on some grass, but I wasn’t free then, and I hated myself for my weakness.”
“Oh Mike, you’re not weak, but still I don’t understand, I thought you hated me,” the words cut him like a knife. He closed his eyes and was surprised when she kissed each one of them softly in turn.
“No, baby, never you, I wanted you then, and I want you now, so damn badly,” he kissed her lips, and she moaned into his mouth.
“I’ve wanted you from the beginning,” her whispered confession broke something inside of him.
The dam he’d erected around his heart to keep him safe and alone cracked and crumbled as she reached up with shaking, long-fingered hands, and pulled his head down to hers. She was sweet and shy with him. Beautiful and pale as marble, like a sculpture he’d seen of a ballerina once.
Only, she was no statue. His Claire was alive, passionate, warm, and right there in his arms. Mike went rigid under her curious exploration. He gently pushed her hands away. He tried to regain control of this sweet interlude, but she was surprisingly insistent.
She kissed him with her mouth and tongue. All the while she smoothed her inquisitive hands up and down his hard body. He forgot his past, he was right there in the moment. Waiting with bated breath as her hands delved further down his abdomen to the rigid source of his need. Mike went wild.
He took back the reins, he grabbed her wrists with one hand and held her hands high over her head. With his mouth fastened hungrily to hers, he used his other hand to reach underneath the loose flannel shirt she wore. He skillfully freed her from the front-clasp bra she wore and tested the softness of her breasts in his large hand.
She was small and firm. Perfect. He loved the feel of her soft as silk skin. She sighed his name and as he rubbed one hardened nipple between his fingers intently. He wanted her in his mouth. He wanted her to scream his name.
The hallway was not big enough for him to do everything he wanted. Without warning, Mike picked her up in his arms and carried her to his bedroom. He watched her lust-glazed eyes take in her surroundings and gave her time to protest.
The room was small, but the bed was king-sized and luxuriously outfitted with smooth silk sheets and a heavy down comforter in sage green and be
ige. He waited for a sign that she wanted to stop, but none came.
Mike lay her down among the pillows and stood up just looking at her. She was like a fairy lying there. Her big, blue eyes were heavy-lidded, her oval face was prettily flushed, and she was breathing erratically. He’d done that to her. The knowledge that she wanted him as much as he wanted her pleased him to no end.
His hands went to the hem of his t-shirt, and he tugged the black cotton over his head. He liked the way her eyes widened as they looked over his body. He was glad he remained physically fit. He’d never thought much about it before. It had been years since he’d concerned himself with such things.
His hands went to the waist of his jeans, and he watched her eyes grow even bigger. Masculine pride had him stripped down and standing nude for her thorough perusal in seconds. His erection protruded proudly from a nest of dark curls, and he throbbed as she parted her lips and licked them hungrily. Mine.
“Let me do that,” he said and bent down to her mouth.
She shivered and moaned as he kissed and licked his way from her willing mouth to her sweet breasts. The buttons were too difficult to manage in his current state. He gripped the edges of the worn flannel in his fists and ripped the shirt open. The muted violence of the action made her gasp and arch her back. He loved the sound as it echoed in his mind.
“Your breasts are perfect,” he said and took one pink-tipped mound in his mouth. He suckled her until she writhed beneath him, then he saw to the other.
“Mike!” She exclaimed breathlessly.
He let instinct guide him. It had been so long, but Mike remembered how to read the signs. He moved his hands all over her body, removing pesky clothing along the way.
He took his time and savored the experience of Claire in his arms. Finally. Without guilt, without regret. He finally had this woman in his bed, and he had no plans to let her go. He wanted to memorize every freckle and curve, to commit every sigh to memory.
“You taste like sugar, sweet,” he took pleasure in the way her body seemed to spasm and clench as he suckled her.
Mike struggled to keep himself under control. He didn’t want to rush her. He wanted to show her what it was she did to him every time he looked at her. He felt primal. His Wolf howled in his mind’s eye. Claim her. Mine.
He felt him there in his eyes and saw Claire’s own Wolf howl in response.
CHAPTER 5
Claire could not believe what was happening. Mike Bellamy, the man who’d been her enemy for years, was doing every single delicious thing she’d ever dreamt about to her.
His dark head was bent over her nude body as he kissed and touched every inch of her with his hands and mouth. Her fists clenched on the bedspread as he knelt between her thighs and pushed her knees further apart. She felt flames reach her cheeks as he looked his fill.
“No, baby, don’t close your legs. Keep them open for me, that’s right,” his hand smoothed the soft, blonde curls that covered her and Claire bucked softly in response.
Her body knew what it wanted. Him. He lowered his head and dropped soft kisses on her inner thighs and then there.
Claire almost launched herself completely off the bed when his tongue found her most sensitive spot. He teased the tiny nub of flesh until she writhed like a mindless thing under his masterful seduction. She arched her back as white-hot lightning seemed to strike every single one of her nerve cells, but he still wouldn’t relent.
Then he was kissing her mouth. She tasted herself on his lips and, damn, if that didn’t turn her on. Then he was there, pushing himself inside of her, filling her to the brim with his manhood. Claire gripped his hips, loving the weight of him as he thrust into her.
The first time took minutes, but they had all night long. Neither of them wanted to stop. They basked in the glow of their newfound intimacy for hours. Mike wasn’t the type of guy who brought home many women.
She’d never heard of him being a player of any kind. Everyone assumed he’d been too in love with his wife to fool around. She felt insecurity rise in her, but as if he understood, he took her face in his hands and looked at her with his blazing steel colored eyes.
“I am only thinking of you Claire, I swear it,” he kissed her softly and nuzzled her cheek.
“You can’t imagine how I feel when I’m inside of you, Claire,” he whispered into her mouth.
He said other things too. Secret things that lovers told each other. Claire responded in kind. They laughed and told each other stories. She’d never imagined couples did that when they were making love.
It felt like love too. Real love. But how could she be sure? He got out of bed once to get them some cold drinks, and a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to share and Claire walked to the large window in his bedroom.
She was glad no one could see through them as they’d have been in for an eyeful for sure! Huge snowflakes still fell from the whited-out sky. The entire area looked as if a large white blanket was pulled up over it. It was beautiful.
She caught sight of herself in the mirror that hung over his dresser, and she was shocked. The tidy Claire that she was used to seeing was gone. This Claire looked worldly and well-loved.
If only that were true. She had no way of knowing whether or not this was some fluke like the storm. Did he want her for keeps or was he gonna treat her the same as always once the weather had passed and it was time to get back to their regular lives?
She worried herself with these thoughts until he returned to the room with a tray full of goodies. Her stomach rumbled, and she realized she was hungry. They sat on the rug on the side of the bed, him behind her, and they ate and laughed some more. But there was something between them that hadn’t been there before.
“What is it, baby?” He asked and licked some peanut butter from the corner of her mouth.
She leaned back and closed her eyes, loving the feel of him around her. He was strong and warm and everything she could’ve ever wanted. But he didn’t love her. Not like she loved him. The knowledge hurt.
“Nothing, I don’t want this to end.”
“Me neither,” he smiled against her cheek and hugged her tightly against him.
“I guess the snow will stop eventually though,” she said heavily.
“Yes, I guess it will. What are you saying?”
“Just that, I’ll understand if, if things go back to the way they were before when I thought you hated me.”
She felt his arms tighten around her and his breathing stop. Oh, Claire, why couldn’t you just leave well enough alone!
“Do you think this kind of thing is easy to hide or stop,” he asked against her hair.
“I don’t know, is it?”
CHAPTER 6
He chuckled out loud and sighed behind her. She was younger than him, so maybe she didn’t understand.
“Being a bartender and bar owner comes with a lot of clichés, unfortunately. I never felt the need to exploit my position and take care of the young or older women who drank in my establishment.”
“Ah, so you’re not a man-slut?” He laughed at her attempt to make a joke.
“No, I’m not. Besides, I never wanted anyone else.”
“You mean other than your wife?” Her words were small, but he heard them.
“I need to tell you about my marriage, Claire.”
“Um, I don’t think I want to hear about that Mike,” she sounded on the verge of tears, but he needed to tell her now before things got strained between them.
“No, not since my marriage. I haven’t wanted anyone else since I caught sight of you all those years ago.”
“I tried telling you before, but maybe you need to hear all of it. I’ve felt guilty for so long. I was married when you asked me out on a date and frustrated that I couldn’t say yes. My heart had stopped that day, but I cut into you. It was my only defense mechanism.”
“Why? Why couldn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know, I wanted to protect us both. I knew
if I talked to you I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from touching you, like this,” his hands ran over her from her hips to her neck. She leaned back, and he felt himself grow hard again.
“I kept my dark, little secret, that I wanted you desperately. Guilt was killing me.”
“Cause of her?”
“My wife was unfaithful to me, our vows were made in haste, a mistake we both regretted, but we were too old fashioned for divorce. I didn’t want to be unfaithful to my lawful wife even if only in my mind, I was horrible to you because of it. I am sorry.”
She turned around and kissed him softly on the lips. Her heart was in her eyes, but he needed to finish. He held her hands and pressed his forehead against hers.
“My first marriage was a mistake, we weren’t mate bonded and it ate at us, at me, until I was barely living anymore. I want to live Claire, I don’t want to be that shadow of a Wolf again. I want to be with you.”
She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed. Her enthusiasm knocked both of them to the floor. She straddled him and sat up, her glorious hair surrounding her like a blonde halo.
“What are you saying exactly?”
“I’m saying, I want you Claire Freemont, to be my mate and my wife in the eyes of the Pack and humankind. Will you do me that honor?”
“Yes! Oh, yes!”
He was relentless in his pursuit of her then and there in his bedroom. She was almost as greedy. She ignited flames in him that he’d never experienced before. Her soft hands smoothed up and down his back and curved around to his ass where she’d squeezed him, hard.
“Never like that,” he murmured after they came together for the umpteenth time. He gathered her close and tucked her against his side. She seemed as satiated as he was. He kissed her head and was careful of her shoulder.
He’d heard of Wolves who like to bite during sex as a way to mark their mates, but he’d never been moved to do such a thing before now. He looked down and ran his finger over the slightly indented skin around her right shoulder where he’d bitten her.