by Liza Street
Only when she was satisfied that she’d seen every inch of him and rubbed her body against his in a way that had her all wet, and his dick looked painfully erect, did she say, “Okay, you can move now.”
Without pause, he gathered her in his arms, then kissed and licked his way down her face and to her breasts. He suckled one nipple while tweaking the other, and she bucked forward into him, nearly losing her balance.
He braced her hips with one arm and dragged his other hand down to her wetness. “Mmm, yes, you’re so ready for me,” he said. “Are you on the pill?”
“No,” she said. “There was never any need.”
He kissed between the valley of her breasts. “This your first time, love?”
She nodded.
“And you want this? With me?”
She nodded again. “With you and no one else.”
“Then I have to make sure you’re extra ready for me.” He pulled once on his cock, as if teasing her with the view, then dropped to his knees. “Spread your legs a little, pet.”
She widened her stance.
“Yes, that’s right,” he said approvingly. “I’m going to lick and finger you until you come.”
Good luck, she thought, but as soon as his mouth was on her, she lost all her words. All she could do was grip his head in her hands and moan her approval.
When he pressed a finger inside her, she thought she was gone. A second finger, and she could only gasp. He licked and sucked at her clit the whole while, taking her higher. And then when he crooked his fingers a little as he moved them in and out, stars exploded behind her eyelids and her cries echoed through the forest.
He gave her one last lick and looked up at her with a grin.
She shook her head in wonderment. “So that’s what an orgasm feels like.”
“That was your first orgasm?”
“It’s a night of firsts, I guess.”
“Don’t you touch yourself?”
“All the time,” she said. Then she noticed his smirk. “Well, not all the time. But I’ve never been able to finish.”
“We’ll have to make up for lost opportunities.” He slid his hand up her thigh to dip into her wetness again.
She squirmed. “It’s too—I can’t—”
“Trust me?”
“Of course.”
He left his finger there, and swiped his tongue across her clit again. She shivered. “Touch your breasts for me,” he said. “Tweak those pert little nipples.”
“Now look who’s bossy,” she said, but her voice came out low and throaty. Skies above, she wanted another orgasm. As she played with her breasts, she looked down and saw him stroking his cock. She wanted to touch it. “Come up here.”
He reached for his pants and pulled a foil square out of his wallet. She watched, intrigued, as he fit a condom over his shaft.
“I’ve pictured being with you at least a thousand times since that kiss in your bedroom,” he said, spreading his flannel shirt over the ground. “Lie down, love.”
All of her senses were awake, every soft flutter of an owl’s wings, every pine-laden scent on the breeze, the taste of his lips still on hers. He followed her to the ground and nudged her legs apart, making room for himself. Kissing her again, he traced circles around her nipples with his fingers until she whimpered and hooked her legs around his, trying to bring him closer.
“So ready for me,” he said against her mouth.
His tip rested at her entrance, so she scooted forward until he was partway in. He pulled back from kissing her and looked at her in question. There was a little discomfort, but the pleasure overcame it. She nodded and tried to pull him in more. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he pushed the rest of the way inside. They both panted with the effort of remaining still, until she reached up and grabbed his face, bringing it down to hers for a kiss.
He moved within her, his tongue and his cock. Her body soared higher and higher, taken to a place so incredible, she couldn’t imagine ever not doing this.
He rolled them around so he was on his back, and she was on top. “Sit up, love, and touch yourself.”
Bracing a hand on his chest, she did as he suggested. The full weight of her was settled onto him, and it felt so damn good she couldn’t help but rock back and forth, testing her movement, seeking a rhythm and angle that brought the most pleasure.
Her Rourke, her lover, her mate. He was beneath her, his eyes half-lidded with desire, watching her as she learned this new dance. Reaching down, she touched her clit in her favorite way, the way she’d been practicing on her own the night before. His hands were on her hips, her breasts, her ass, as she rocked up and down, his scent enveloping her, until her body soared, opening up to the stars above them until she was them and they were her and Rourke was here, holding them all together.
He thrust harder into her a few more times, then groaned. His hands were tight on her hips, pulling her even closer to him, and she felt his dick pulse inside of her. “Starla,” he moaned breathlessly. “Starla.”
After a few minutes, Rourke eased out of her. “Shit, the condom broke.”
Starla stared down at the ripped rubber and thought about it for a few moments. Rourke stared at her, as if waiting for her anger or panic. Instead, she touched his jaw. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.”
She couldn’t keep the hurt from her voice. “You wouldn’t want a baby with me? Kitten or pup?”
“No. I mean, yes, I would. But a pregnancy means I’m not taking care of you. It’s your body, and you should get to decide when you have a baby, and whose it is.”
“I wouldn’t mind at all,” she said fiercely. “I’d love raising a little shifter baby with you. We’d protect our baby and raise her or him together.”
He gathered her closer in his arms and they lay like that, each lost in their own thoughts about the future. They couldn’t stay there all night curled into each other’s bodies, although Starla desperately wanted to. Rourke’s breathing had slowed, and hers had, as well.
He kissed the side of her head, and Starla closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling.
“Do you remember when we were here that one time your aunt was baking all those pies?” he asked.
Starla giggled. “She was practicing her blueberry pie recipe. For the county fair, I think. We got so sick.”
“We shouldn’t have stolen all of them.”
“She never did figure out what happened to them,” Starla said, “although I think she had a pretty good guess.”
“I thought I’d never eat another pie in my life.”
“It was Gabe who threw up, though, remember?” Starla wrinkled her nose, remembering. “Blueberry pie chunks all over the patio.”
Rourke laughed. “And Amelia—”
“Just stood there with that sanctimonious grin, saying—”
“I told you so,” they said together, laughing.
They snuggled closer, and Starla realized what she had to do.
“I’m going to call things off at home,” she whispered, skimming her hand over his chest. “It’s complicated, and I’m worried about my parents, so we’ll have to make sure there’s a place for them here.”
“Of course. My mom will let them into the Pacific Coast Pack if they don’t stay here with the Sierras.”
“Even though they’re lions?” Starla asked.
“My pack won’t mind, you know that.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Do you want to tell me about the Everglades Pride?” Rourke asked. “They sound…different.”
“They are. But I don’t want to talk about them now. Where are you going to sleep tonight?”
“In my truck. Or as a wolf. It’s only a couple of hours until dawn.”
He walked her back to the house, stopping on the porch to kiss her until she thought she’d take him again right there, on one of Maverick’s carved wooden benches. Everyone was gone. Her brothers and sisters undoubtedly wanted to know what was
going on with her and Rourke and her fiancé, but the house was dark and they must all be asleep. She was lucky, at least until tomorrow when she’d have to answer some hard questions.
Grinning, Rourke planted a final kiss on the corner of her mouth. “See you tomorrow.”
She fairly floated up to her room. Her mood plummeted when she saw her phone on her bedspread.
Do you know how to cook a steak? I’m forwarding a recipe. You should practice before we’re married.
Where are you?
Call me.
And more of the same.
It was the middle of the night, but this couldn’t wait. First she called her parents, who put her on speaker phone. “I don’t want to come back,” she whispered. “I’m going to stay here.”
“Good,” her dad said.
Starla said, “Come to California. At least until we figure out the next step.”
Her mom spoke up. “We’re leaving immediately. Robert, pack a bag.”
They hung up, promising to stay in touch via text on their way across the US—they’d take a car since they didn’t have the funds for a last-minute flight. Starla offered to ask Gabriel for help, but her parents wouldn’t hear of it.
She nervously stared at her phone, then set it down. The Hello Kitty lunch box sat on her vanity, so she opened it and pulled out another of Rourke’s letters.
Hey Starla,
I was thinking that when we grow up, we need to live closer. It sucks being hours away. I got this awesome water balloon launcher we could use against Gabriel, Jude, and Blake, and we’ll have water fights every summer and snowball fights every winter. We won’t do boring chores day in day out as our parents do, yeah? We’d know how to have fun.
Your friend,
Rourke
Even as kids, they’d been making plans—plans to be together.
There was only one thing left to do.
She typed out the text to Erich that she’d been wanting to send all along. Carefully she checked it for errors before pressing send.
Fuck you. I’m not coming back.
Chapter Twelve
Rourke settled into his truck and closed his eyes. Starla’s scent was everywhere, and he smiled, feeling his cock growing yet again. He was insatiable for her. They’d been friends first, and now they were so much more.
Those letters she used to send him—his sister had teased him mercilessly, and his parents had shaken their heads, marveling that he’d found his mate so quickly. He’d scoffed, because Starla was young—she’d been a girl, and his buddy, and he hadn’t been able to think of her in a sexual way back then.
He certainly could now. He leaned back and unfastened his pants, reaching in to grasp his already aching cock. With thoughts of her—her breasts bouncing as she rode him, her lips glistening and open in pleasure, her eyes half-closed—he pulled on his cock, stroking it and marveling at his amazing luck. Starla, back in his life.
*
His phone rang, and he cursed, banging his head into the window of his truck. The sun was higher than he’d wanted it to be when he finally woke up, but he guessed Starla would have slept in, too. He looked at his phone. Amelia.
He swiped to answer her call. “It’s only eight, sis. What’s so pressing?”
“I don’t know.” She sounded confused. “I needed to wake you up, but I don’t know why.”
“Oh. Very well, I’m awake.” His sister could be so strange sometimes, but he was mostly used to it.
“Brilliant,” she said. “Well, good morning and it’s time to start your day!”
“Brilliant,” he echoed slowly. “Thanks.”
She’d already hung up.
He shook his head, unable to help his smile as he drove down the deserted road to the Fournier Ranch. There was a lot to set in motion—a place to live for Starla’s adoptive parents, the decision of where Starla and Rourke would live together, and whatever other details this would involve. He didn’t care so much about where they lived. He could fight fires anywhere, and the Pacific Coast Pack was close enough he’d still get to visit his family. Starla would probably want to remain here in the Sierras since she’d lost so much time with her family.
Wherever she wanted to go, that’s where he’d be.
When Rourke pulled into the driveway, Gabriel stepped out the front door, looking puzzled.
“Has she gotten up yet?” Rourke asked, not even pretending that Gabriel might not know who he was talking about.
“Yeah, but—”
“Fantastic, did she tell you? We have to make some plans.” Rourke took giant strides toward the door. He wondered if he should propose to Starla. They were mates, no question in his mind about it, but perhaps she wanted a wedding? Maybe she’d want some time after breaking up with the wanker in Florida.
“Plans? Rourke, hold up.” Gabriel put his hand out to stop him.
Rourke looked down at Gabriel’s hand, inches from his chest, and held back a snarl. He didn’t want to start a new life with Starla by fighting with her brother, but he couldn’t handle the thought of being prevented from seeing her.
“Rourke, you can come in, sure.” Gabriel stepped aside and held the door open. “But Starla’s not here.”
Chapter Thirteen
Starla’s eyes ached, but she refused to close them. This was a nightmare featuring her and Erich, and she had to find a way out of it.
Wake up. Wake up, Starla.
They had her parents. What could she do? She had to get in the car with him. False memories or no, she wasn’t going to forever remember killing another set of parents.
She peeked at him with her peripheral vision. His face was the same—bland, pleasant, with a hint of hardness to his jaw to show her he was pissed. She’d always thought he looked like a serial killer with his bright blue eyes and handsome haircut. No distinguishing marks, just plain. Plain like the Nevada desert they were speeding through. There weren’t even any cars passing them. Erich said as soon as they’d gotten far enough away from her family, he’d find a place they could get married fast.
“Slut,” he said again. “As if you’d ever be good enough for them out there. As if another man could want you.”
Starla closed her eyes. These were lies, falsehoods. The problem was, they came out smelling like the truth, because Erich believed them.
“How did you get out here so fast?” she asked.
He laughed. “Did you really think I let you come out here alone? I was close by in Reno, just waiting for you to screw things up. When you didn’t respond to my texts, I knew that something was off. Had to see for myself. It looks like I arrived just in time.”
She’d gone up to her room in the pre-dawn hours and sent him that text, Fuck you. I’m not coming back, but seconds later he’d texted back.
I’m already here to bring you home.
Her heart had thudded and she’d thought of waking up her family to help her fight him, but his next text had included a photo: her parents, caged in one of the Elders’ basements. “No,” she’d whispered.
Let me in. Now.
She shuddered, remembering how she had walked downstairs to open the door and saw him there, her worst nightmare.
Now the bleak landscape raced past, Erich’s car taking her farther away from Rourke and all the hope she’d begun to have.
“Your parents are lucky you’re so compliant,” he said. “Although I must admit, I was rather looking forward to another Hunt.”
She’d never allow it. “A Hunt, huh?” she said. “When everyone else is out there as a lion, what will you be? A human with a gun?”
He held up a hand and she flinched. He laughed as he straightened his hair. “I’d be out there with whatever weapon would do the most damage. Now be a dutiful wife and hold your tongue, before I cut it out. You don’t need a tongue to breed.”
She held her tongue—not because she was afraid of losing it, but because she was afraid he’d call the Elder who had her parents in custody, and they’d
start a Hunt anyway.
“You smell like sex,” Erich hissed. “Who fucked you, hmm? Damaged goods, but I don’t care.”
At least she knew their route. He’d had a map open on his phone when he met her downstairs, and she could see the outline of the roads he’d chosen. That was Erich. Nothing left to chance.
She closed her eyes again, trying to tune him out, trying to send mental messages to her parents, to her brothers and sisters, to Rourke. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
Chapter Fourteen
“What do you mean, she’s not here?” Rourke demanded. Blood was thumping, too hot, through his veins, making it hard to think. He had to hold it together and not shift into his wolf right here and now.
Come on, Rourke. He was good at this. He had to do it all the time when he was working. Not panic at the flames, not give in to the instinct to go wolf and escape to somewhere safe.
“She left early. Erich came and picked her up. We weren’t even awake, and he didn’t stay to meet us, the asshole. I think something’s off there, but Starla left a note, and she’s an adult, so…I don’t know, man.”
It was the most he’d heard from Gabriel in one go. Obviously he was shaken by this, too.
“Let me see the note,” Rourke said.
Gabriel passed it over.
Thank you for the amazing visit! Erich’s here to pick me up and we want to have a pre-honeymoon honeymoon, driving back to Florida! Nevada should be lonely (lonely was crossed out) lovely! What a long highway. Looking forward to seeing you ALL soon at the wedding and we can dance to alt-rock! I’ll be dressed to the nines! XOXO, Starla!!!!!
“You don’t believe that, do you?” Rourke asked.
Gabriel shrugged. “I don’t know. My gut’s telling me it’s a load of shit, but—”
“It’s a load of shit. I know her writing style, and this isn’t it, all exclamation points. And look how she carefully crossed out ‘lonely.’ She wants us to know where they’re going. She wants to see us all. She underlined some weird things, too.”