When she stepped out into the locker room, leaving damp footprints on the tile floor, Rory was standing between the lockers and the long bench that ran the length of the room, looking devastatingly handsome. He was wearing a white T-shirt that fitted snugly around his massive biceps and clung to the muscles of his chest and stomach. Dark jeans fitted closely to his powerful thighs and did nothing to hide the impressive size of his cock.
She snatched her gaze away from where it had wandered to, hoping he hadn’t noticed, but there was an intensity in those bright blue eyes that told her he had.
As she walked through the locker room, aware of his eyes on her every step of the way, he slammed his palm against the lockers, stopping her just as she was about to step past him. His other arm came up too, caging her between the lockers and his body, and she turned to face him, looking up into his eyes, the saturated blue of a summer sky and ringed with dark, dense lashes.
Awareness hummed in the air between them, and he stepped closer, lowering his head until his lips were centimeters away from hers. She wondered if he was going to kiss her. The ache between her thighs intensified, along with a sort of restless energy that made her want to press her body against his and twine her arms around his neck and beg him to fuck her.
“You don’t need to hide your arousal from me,” he murmured against her lips. “I can smell it. You want me just as badly as I want you.”
She gave a shuddering sigh, and he stepped back, fisting his hands at his sides as if holding himself back, then turned and strode from the room.
Chapter Nine
She’d thought it would feel nice to be out of the firehouse, walking around among normal people whose lives weren’t full of weirdness like demons and pyromaniac spiders and were-bears – oops, bearen.
Actually, though, she was just scared. As they passed people on the street, she kept wondering whether she was really surrounded by ordinary people going about their everyday lives, or whether they were part of this weird, fucked-up, magical world she’d found herself in.
Rory was holding her hand. She’d protested, but not too hard. It was nice to feel his strong fingers wrapped around hers.
A man walked towards them on the other side of the street, long dark hair and fierce slashes of eyebrows, wearing a bright orange T-shirt that boasted the slogan “UnBEARable”. He sauntered past trailing cigar smoke, and Ivy instinctively pressed closer to Rory’s side.
There had been no question of her leaving the firehouse without Rory accompanying her. “Forty-eight percent of accidents happen outside the home!” he’d insisted, and she’d rolled her eyes and grumbled but been secretly touched by his protectiveness…even if she knew she couldn’t really trust him. That vision nagged at her. She felt so safe with him, and she wanted him so badly. How could her instincts be so wrong and so right at the same time?
A flutter of arousal started in her belly, and she shut it down fast in case he could pick up on it.
Her boss at the diner, Jim, had not been happy that she wouldn’t be working for the next few days. He was a bad-tempered, simian-looking man who made up for overcharging his customers by short-changing them.
“Family emergency? You don’t got no family.” He’d glowered at Rory, who’d insisted on going inside with her. “Don’t got not friends, either, far as I know,” he’d added nastily.
All of a sudden, she didn’t know why she hadn’t looked for a different job. Okay, she wasn’t qualified for much, but surely she could at least find work among kind, decent people.
Like Rory and the guys at the firehouse, a little voice whispered inside her, but she squashed it, hard.
You can’t trust them, she reminded herself. They’re not even really people, or not human beings anyway.
Still a lot nicer than Jim, the inner voice countered.
“It should be along this road,” she said out loud to Rory. Her last errand was to get in touch with the property agent from her mom’s shop, and a phone call had gone unanswered.
But when they got to the address on the business card, it was a dry cleaners.
“Weird.” Ivy looked from the business card to the shop front and back again, but they were definitely in the right place. Except they were definitely in the wrong place.
“Maybe it’s one of those set-ups where several businesses share one business address?” she said. “Like in New York, where you get seventeen teeny-tiny lawyers working in one PO Box?”
Rory scrunched his nose in thought. “Doubtful,” he said. “It’s not like space is at a premium in Serenity. It’s more likely to be a misprint on the card.”
“I suppose so. Or maybe it’s an old business card,” Ivy replied, tucking it back into her pocket. “Since the phone number was wrong too. But how am I going to get in touch with her?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it for now,” Rory said. “If she turns up at the shop, it’ll be pretty clear what’s happened. She might even get in touch with the fire department directly.”
Ivy shrugged. She’d have to deal with the shop sooner or later. She seriously doubted it was insured – would she be liable for having the structure made safe? Where would she find the money? But somehow, with everything else going on, it didn’t seem that important at the moment.
“Let’s get some lunch,” she suggested.
Rory immediately tensed. “We need to get back to the firehouse,” he protested. “It’s my responsibility to keep you safe.”
She looped her arm through his and grinned up at him. “Fifty-two percent of all accidents happen at home, remember? Statistically speaking, it’s practically your duty to buy me a slice of pizza and a soda.”
He gazed down into her eyes. She could see he was tempted. “Well…” he said, “when you put it like that…”
They found a little pizzeria tucked away on a quiet side street. Ivy had never eaten there before, but the comforting smells of fresh dough and rich tomato sauce drew them inside, and they were quickly seated at a table with a red-and-white chequered wax tablecloth and a candle lodged in an empty wine bottle.
The pizza, when it came, was fragrant and loaded with toppings, and Ivy bit into it with relish before wiping her greasy fingers on a red paper napkin. They chatted idly – mainly about the other guys at the firehouse. He spoke about them with equal parts affection and exasperation.
Ivy watched in astonishment as he polished off his seventh slice of pizza. “Is that your stomach or a portal to another dimension?” she asked, eyeing his flat belly.
He laughed and patted his tummy. “Bearen metabolism,” he confided in a sexy murmur. “That and the Chief isn’t above having us running laps around the yard if we get under his feet.”
She smiled at the thought. “You make it sound like you’re a gang of little kids and he’s your dad,” she said.
He waggled his hand from side to side. “That’s not so far from the truth. There are a lot of power dynamics among shiften that would seem weird to humans. But yeah, the guys – they’re like my brothers.”
“And you squabble a lot, like any family,” she guessed.
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he confirmed. “Which is why one of these days Ben is going to find himself made into an elegant fur hat and a matching pair of gloves.” He bit viciously into another slice of pizza, leaving a smear of tomato sauce at the corner of his mouth.
Ivy tsked and leaned across with a napkin, wiping it away. “Who would have thought my dream guy would be such a messy eater?” she said.
They both froze.
Rory stared at her for a long moment.
Then, without a word, he rose from the table. He threw a few notes onto the table, took Ivy’s hand in his, and led her out of the restaurant and onto the street.
“Rory…” she began, but he shook his head and backed her up against a wall between two storefronts, cradling her face between his big hands. She was trapped between the brickwork and his body, and her heart was thrumming madly in her chest.
It was sweet, and gentle, and slow, and it sent arousal cascading all the way down her body until her toes curled.
She opened to him. She couldn’t help it. He was so strong and he smelled so good – musky and wild like in her vision, but so good. She locked her arms around his waist, and he trailed his hand down her neck, then down to the curve at the side of her breast. He tucked his other thumb into the belt loop of her jeans, splaying his fingers over her hip, and tugged her lower body against his, letting her feel the solid length of his erection.
An ache of longing started between her thighs, and she moaned against his mouth. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue against hers, then drew away, too soon.
“We have to stop,” he said breathlessly as she chased his mouth, trying to draw him back into the kiss. She knew she shouldn’t, but she wanted him so badly it hurt.
“Why?” she murmured against his mouth, and he groaned and stole another kiss, pressing his hips against hers. She could feel how hard he was for her, and her pussy answered with a trickle of slick heat.
“There’s no privacy at the firehouse,” he said desperately, trying to untangle her arms from around his body. “And as much as I’d like to fuck you right here in the street…”
If any part of her had still been hesitating, those words snatched the last shreds of her resistance away on a thrill of arousal.
“We can go back to my place,” she said.
Chapter Ten
They burst through the door into her tiny, empty apartment, their mouths locked together, hands all over each other’s bodies. Ivy slapped blindly for the light switch on the wall, then gave up as Rory hooked her knee over his hip, grinding against her core. He broke away for just a moment to kick the door shut behind him, then spun Ivy around and put her back against it, pressing her against the painted wooden surface with the full weight of his body.
She tugged the hem of his T-shirt up and ran her hands underneath, over the smooth, hard flesh of his toned stomach and further up to the sparse scattering of hair across his pecs. He laced his fingers through her hair and tugged her head to the side so he could suckle on her earlobe and kiss and bite the side of her neck, his breathing fast and excited. Then he drew back for a moment and skimmed her T-shirt over her head.
Her fingers went to his fly, and she shoved his jeans and pants down over his hips. His erection sprang free, hard and thick, the head already slick with pre-cum as she ran her fingers over it then wrapped her hand around his length.
He groaned into her mouth, and unbuttoned her jeans as she worked his shaft, running her hand along his full length, squeezing gently to coax more deep sounds of pleasure from him. Then he hooked his hands under her thighs and lifted her effortlessly, pressing her back against the door as she guided him to her slick pussy and he drove himself inside her in a single hard, greedy thrust.
She whimpered and dug her fingers into his back, holding on for dear life as he fucked her right there against the door, making it bang in its frame as he plunged in and out of her slick, needy body.
She felt the rising tension coiling inside her as his cock dragged over her G-spot each time he withdrew and nudged her clit each time he thrust back inside her, and her breathless moans made him groan and hide his face against her neck, struggling for control.
As she tumbled over the edge into orgasm, she gave a brief, hoarse cry and grabbed his ass, urging him inside her harder and faster as the bliss spilled over from her pussy and washed out through the rest of her body.
He fucked her helplessly, out of control, the door rattling in its frame, and as her intimate muscles tightened around him with each sweet, exquisite throb of her climax, he threw back his head and shouted, the sound raw with bliss as he spilled himself inside her over and over again.
He lowered her feet to the floor as they caught their breath, frantic heartbeats slowly returning to normal.
Then she leaned past him to switch on the light, grazing a teasing kiss over his pec as she did so, and she took his hand and led him over to her neatly made, narrow single bed.
This time, they took it slow and sweet. They undressed each other, exploring each new inch of skin that was exposed with fingers and mouths. He grazed her collarbone with his teeth and kissed her breasts, dark lashes fluttering closed against his cheeks as he drew her nipple into his mouth; she explored the powerful muscles of his thighs, the planes and valleys of his finely muscled torso, the strong column of his neck.
Rory worked his way down her body, sucking her nipples into tight pink peaks then dragging his lips further down, dipping his tongue into her navel and parting her thighs with his big hands, opening her slick pink folds to his gaze.
He lowered his head and kissed her pussy, working his tongue into her slit, then lapping at her clit until she was gasping and trembling, head thrashing back and forth against the pillow.
At the last moment, just as she was about to come, he drew back then rose up above her, looking down at her with a feverish glitter of desire in his impossibly blue eyes.
He was kissing her as he slid inside her, and she twined her arms around his neck and held him close, murmuring encouragement as he hit all the right spots to drive her back towards quivering, clenching orgasm. She arched against him as she came, fire roaring through her blood and consuming her utterly, a heat and light that could be quenched only by his body.
Afterwards, they lay wrapped in each other’s arms, lazy and drowsy and content. He drew meandering spirals on her shoulder with his forefinger.
“We should head back to the firehouse,” he said reluctantly. “I don’t want the Chief to worry.”
“I guess,” she said, but she snuggled closer, splaying her fingers across his warm stomach. “I don’t have to bunk down with the guys, do I?”
He laughed. “No. I wouldn’t subject someone I care about to Ben’s snoring.” A glow of happiness spread inside her at his words. “In fact I wouldn’t submit my worst enemy to Ben’s snoring. We'll set up a bed for you in the Chief's office.”
She played with the little trail of hair just below his belly button. “I find it a bit overwhelming, how close you all are,” she admitted. “I guess, growing up in the system…there were always lots of other kids around, but you didn’t make connections. Not after the first few times you let yourself care about someone only for them to be taken away.”
Rory stroked her hair, playing his fingers through the dark, silky strands. “You can let yourself care about me,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter Eleven
Rory ran into the bunk room. “Where is she?” he demanded.
He’d slid from between the sheets in the pinkish-gray light and crept to the Chief’s office, hoping Ivy wasn’t grumpy when she was woken up – or at least that he could do something to put her in a better mood. The memory of holding her in his arms, of her softness and her scent, had played maddeningly in his head, over and over. He’d tossed and turned on his narrow cot, the springs squeaking, until Jasper had thrown a balled-up pair of dirty socks at his head and threatened to make him eat them if he didn’t go the fuck to sleep.
He’d dozed a little after that, but as soon as dawn had started to touch the sky, he’d given up on sleep and gone to her. So what if the Chief would go berserk when he realised they’d been fucking in his office? She was worth a month’s duty scrubbing down the showers. Hell, he’d do a year without a murmur of complaint.
Except she wasn’t there. Panic punched him in the solar plexus as he saw that the Chief’s office was empty, the blankets neatly folded on the couch they’d made up as a bed for her.
“Get up,” he demanded as his fellow firefighters cast bleary scowls at him. “I can’t find Ivy.”
They were alert and on their feet almost at once. It was the nature of the job. Lives often depended on
them being ready for action in the middle of the night and at a moment’s notice. So his words did the work of a bucket of ice-water and a bucket and a half of strong black coffee.
“What do you mean, you can’t find her?” the Chief asked as the guys pulled on their clothes. But it was a rhetorical question. “Jasper and Jake, Ben and Brady – check the building. Thoroughly. Then report back. Rory – with me.”
A few minutes later, the Chief slammed a pot of coffee and two mugs onto the table and said, “Son, sit down or I’ll knock you down. Pacing liked a caged bear isn’t going to find your girl.”
Rory wrung his hands, but he stopped pacing and dropped into a chair. “I think she left,” he blurted. “I mean, I think she left me. She was talking about how she’s never been part of a family, and I think all this—” he gestured around the firehouse “—me and the guys and the pack dynamics and all the shiften shit… I think it’s too much for her.” He took a swig of coffee. It was bitter and burned his mouth, but that was nothing compared to the hollow ache in the middle of his chest.
The Chief sat back in his chair, fingers steepled thoughtfully. “Anyone can see the girl’s skittish,” he said, “and who could blame her? Sometimes dealing with you oversized cubs makes me want to hang up my hat and do something more peaceful, like alligator-wrestling. But I don’t think she left you.”
“Why not?” Rory demanded. He knew he was being disrespectful, but he didn’t care.
The Chief gave him a shrewd, narrowed-eyed look. “Because I saw the way she looked at you.”
“How was that?”
The Chief thought for a while. Then, “Pretty much the same way you looked at her,” he said simply.
“She wasn’t snatched,” Rory insisted. “We’d have heard her if she screamed or struggled… Why the fuck didn’t I stay with her?” he growled, panic beginning to rise at the thought of Ivy in danger and afraid. But then he remembered. “She couldn’t have been snatched. The pillows are stacked and the blankets are neatly folded.”
One True Mate: Shifter's Solace (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 4