Of all the males on Earth, I trust him the most. And if you ask me, Gabriela Santana is making several mistakes. Getting married in the first place, and getting married to the wrong roommate in the second place.
I kiss Jesse, softly and chastely. “Now. Are you going to keep distracting me or are you going to let me do a ritual at Blue Lake?”
chapter eleven
EVERY OTHER MINUTE, images of what Cherie may or may not be doing with Jesse at Blue Lake flash through my mind.
Pure torture.
Plus, the sun’s going down. It’s hard to see a mountain trail in the dark. With that thought, images of Cherie laying hurt and helpless in the wilderness rotate in with the ones of her romping naked with the scrawny wolf.
Pure fucking torture.
Tamping down the ridiculous jealousy the best I can, I walk over to join Grandmother and Gabby’s mom, my Aunt Rebecca, in the front lounge — where I can watch the driveway.
“Aunt Rebecca,” I say, hugging my perennially chic aunt. “When did you arrive?”
“This afternoon.” She smiles. Her dark hair, cut in a stylish short bob, has a bit more gray than the last time I saw her.
“Grandmother.” I lean down to kiss her cheek.
“Victor! Is that liquor on your breath?” Grandmother squints and shakes her head in disapproval.
“Don’t preach, Grandmother. I don’t indulge this early on a regular basis.” I pour myself a half-glass of iced tea.
Aunt Rebecca grins. “Was it my Bridezilla daughter who has driven you to drink?” She sounds almost hopeful.
“Not at all. Gabby has been perfectly calm.”
With a deep sigh, Aunt Rebecca looks away. “Still?” She shakes her head. “Brides should be emotional and over-the-moon. A bride who is too calm — this just isn’t right.”
Grandmother pats her knee. “It’ll be fine. This is The Avalon.”
“Do you honestly believe in that legend?” Aunt Rebecca asks.
Nodding deeply, Grandmother says, “That legend, as you call it, has a track record. If their love and marriage is meant to be, the wedding will happen. If not — ” She brushes her hands as if she’s washing them.
I shake my head. “Are you two rooting against the bride and groom?”
“I’m rooting for the truth and it will out itself here” — she opens her arms to take in the hotel lobby — “just as it always has.”
She whispers the chant written into The Avalon’s founding documents.
“Deep within this apple’s heart, this spell is cast for love to start. Bring together love and trust, cast out frauds with the dust. Here is the truth and here is the power, may pure love grow and flower.”
“I think you’re an Avalon disciple, Grandmother.” I smile at her, pat her hand.
She’s not the only one, though. We get mail on a daily basis that feeds Grandmother’s notion that The Avalon is an architectural love charm. Couples who met and fell in love here, couples who stayed here and realized that they weren’t meant to be, couples who married here, people who canceled their weddings and found true love with another all send testimonials to the power.
Through the portico, I see what looks like a Jeep turn onto the long circular drive and approach the hotel.
Grandmother watches me watch the Jeep. “Are you expecting someone?”
I wink at her, quickly swallow the rest of my iced tea.
“Only pure love blooms at The Avalon, Victor.” She grins as I stand. “Remember that.”
“I will. Excuse me, please.”
Moving quickly across the lobby, I step into the security office. I find the Jeep on the monitors just as it stops at the main entrance. When Cherie steps out of it, I breathe a sigh of relief. She's safe.
She waits by the door while Jesse parks the vehicle in the rental return space. Jogging back to her, he leans in to give Cherie a light kiss on the lips. He takes my girl’s hand while slinging a pack over his other shoulder.
Blasts of resentment cut my soul with each public display of affection.
The two walk into the lobby. He stops in front of the bank of drop-boxes to slip the Jeep key in the rental return one. Cherie selects a complimentary apple from the large bowl on the front desk, not twenty feet from the security office.
Hand in hand, they walk to the elevator. When the door opens, Jesse rests his hand on the small of her back. Turning forward as the doors close, his hand glides up to massage the back of her neck. He stares down at her with a longing that tells me nothing happened on the mountain.
The kid didn’t get lucky. That’s a relief. But there’s a lot more than ‘nothing’ between them — a hell of a lot more than just hanging out.
The burn of jealousy is becoming familiar. No matter how much I rationalize with my brain, the message doesn’t get to my wolf or my gut. The emotion squeezes my lungs and cuts off oxygen to my brain. I breathe deep and steady to get my wits back.
I know that if I don’t handle this right, if I don’t win Cherie, I’ll regret it — regret it for the rest of my miserable life.
On another monitor, I watch the pair step off the elevator on three and walk to her room.
Please, sweetness, don’t invite him in. It’ll kill me.
She unlocks her door. He kisses her, long and soft. My hands curl into fists. It looks like she’s kissing him back, but she doesn’t let him into her room.
Good girl.
The door closes, leaving Jesse in the hall. He leans against it for a moment, his pants bulging. I’m not a mind reader, yet I’m confident I know what the boy is thinking.
Over my dead body, kid.
He pushes off her door, gets in the elevator, presses a button and the door closes. Like the unrepentant stalker I am, I smile.
My turn.
Deep breath. I head to my office to begin Operation Romance. From the mini-fridge, I pull a pitcher of calla lilies out of the fridge. I select the biggest one, put the rest back. I’ll be doling out one a day to my girl.
Back upstairs in my room, I unlock my side of our connecting door, then knock on hers. No answer. I press my ear to the door to hear water running. Shower? Tub? Either way it means a naked Cherie. My cock’s on instant alert. I will it to behave. Sex is not part of tonight’s plan.
I knock a little harder. “Cherie?” I call through the door.
The water turns off. The snap of the dead bolt on the other side sends my heart racing. Fuck. I haven’t been this nervous since my first middle school dance.
The door swings open. There’s my girl, biting into the apple she picked up downstairs, staring at me with those giant blue eyes. She’s wrapped in that practically see-through slinky white robe.
Ordering every Lycan cell in my body to behave, I focus on her eyes. I smile, hold out the calla lily for her. “You forgot your lily in the spa this morning.”
Hair up in a clip, she swallows the bite of apple. “That’s not the one Fritzi gave me. It was smaller than this one.”
She takes another bite of the fruit.
“I know. That one died from missing you.” I sigh, shake my head in mock grief. “Such a sad end.”
She raises an eyebrow. “That’s a cheesy line.” But mi ninfa takes the lily.
“Thank you,” she says softly.
I get the shitty stuff out of the way. “I’m sorry for being an asshole after lunch. Forgive me?”
Her apple smells delicious all of a sudden. I borrow it, take a bite. Twirling the calla lily, she doesn’t respond for a moment.
Finally she nods, letting me off the hook.
I swallow the bite of apple.
“To answer your question, hell, yeah, I want to be your lover, now and for as long as you’ll let me be.” I caress her soft cheek with my knuckles. “Never doubt that, again. Understand?”
Taking a second bite of apple, I hand it back to her. Cherie lowers her eyes.
“I didn’t think you did, Victor. Want to be with me anymore.” She licks
her pink lips. “Jesse and I —” She trails off.
A steel vice constricts my chest. I can’t breathe through the panic. Did I misread Jesse’s body language? Deliberately keeping my voice soft and low, I ask, “Did you fuck him, Cherie?” Not sure whether or not I want the answer. Never thought I was the violent alpha male type, but, Jesus, I’ll fucking kill him.
“No, but we kissed — differently.”
Sighing with relief, I grin. “Did you commit to him?” Her throat is unmarred. No bite marks. I’m fairly certain she didn’t promise him anything, but I need to hear it from her.
“No.” She shakes her head, her tone bordering on the absurd.
Reaching out to touch her hair, I play with a silky strand that didn’t make it into the clip. “Please don’t. At least until this thing between you and me plays out.”
I want promises, sweetness, starting with this small one.
She stares at me, chewing more apple. I can see the pulse in her neck beating like crazy.
“Cherie?”
She swallows to answer.
“Okay,” she whispers.
I’ll take it. One little okay from her at a time.
“Before I forget, Grandmother and I would like to see you in HR tomorrow afternoon at three to make you a formal job offer.”
Nodding, she gives me a slight smile.
Despite my best effort, my eyes scan her sweet body. Nervous, she pulls the robe tighter across her chest. Her nipples bead under my stare. I stifle a groan.
“I was getting ready to take a bath,” she says. “Do you want to come in?”
With her dilated pupils and parted mouth, she’s inviting me to do a lot more than come in her room. My cock votes yes. My beast votes hell yes!
Don’t tease me like this, mi ninfa.
“I would love to.” I swallow. “But I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?” Her eyes watch my lips which I can’t seem to stop licking.
“I want to do this right with you.”
“I don’t understand,” she says.
Closing my eyes, I put my forehead to hers. “I know you don’t, sweetness.”
Bending down, I nuzzle her throat, kiss her at that crazy pulsing point before lightly brushing her lips with mine. When her tongue touches my lips, I pull away.
Uh, uh. Your little tongue in my mouth will lap away the tiny sliver of willpower I have.
“Have you eaten dinner?” I ask. “Other than the apple.”
She shakes her head no.
“Good. I’d like to take you to the most magical restaurant in the world,” I say, throwing my arms wide.
“In the world?” She lifts a doubting eyebrow.
I smile. “Uh, huh. Come with me. I’ll prove it to you.”
Staring again, her eyes search mine while I drown in hers.
What are you thinking so hard about, Cherie?
“Okay,” she says.
Score another little yes for me.
“But first.” Stepping closer, she slides her tiny hands around my neck, pulls my mouth to hers. The action is bold, the kiss slightly shy.
Curves that fit me perfectly, the assault from her soft lips, the sweet scent of her and my cock’s reaction to all of the above, I don’t stand a chance. But I try. I pull back, cup the side of her face to keep her still.
“Cherie,” I gasp.
“You don’t want me?” She murmurs. To cap off my undoing, her hypnotic eyes hold a potent combination of pure arousal and shy innocence. She thinks I’m rejecting her.
I pull her pelvis to my raging hard-on. “Does it feel like I don’t want you?”
With a little wiggle against my cock and flashing her signature chandelier smile, she licks her lips.
Fuck. She’s potent. So much for my plan of charming chaste chivalry.
Giving into her with a groan, my tongue finds its way deep, deep into her divine mouth. I cradle her head in both of my hands, my fingers tangle in her silky hair. Apples. She tastes like apples.
Jesse didn’t get this kind of kiss. Not even close. She may be attracted to the kid, but not like this. Whether my inexperienced dream girl realizes or it not, this newborn passion between us is extremely powerful.
“Do you want to take a bath with me?” I whisper to her throat.
“Yes.”
Her ass bare under the robe, I cup her cheeks, lift her. When she wraps her legs around me, I carry her to my bathroom –– to the jetted tub big enough for two. My mouth never leaves some part of her skin — mouth, throat or shoulder.
I gently set her down, take what’s left of the apple, pitch it in the waste can. Keeping an arm around her waist, I turn on the tub faucet. Cherie wiggles.
“I have to use the facilities.” She wrenches free.
While she tinkles in the little toilet room, I open three little bottles of bubble bath, turn them all upside down over the running water with one hand and strip with the other. The toilet flushes and Cherie’s back with me.
She eyes the bottles in my hand and laughs. “Victor! That’s far too much product.”
How the hell should I know. I don’t take baths.
I smile, loving my girl’s laugh. I toss the empty bottles in the waste can.
Reaching out, I tug the sash on her robe. It opens like a present, leaving a tantalizing bare strip of creamy cleavage, toned belly and pale curls at the juncture of her thighs.
My knuckles skim the soft swells of her breasts. Pulling the robe aside just a little to reveal those delectable upturned nipples, I trace around the rosy tips — they harden for me, begging to be sucked.
“Your breasts are the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.” I palm them, enjoy the soft skin and weight of them. Mewling, she arches into my hands.
For the dozenth time, I wonder how someone so unabashedly sensual stayed a virgin for so long. For the dozenth time, I thank my lucky stars, honored to be the guy to have unleashed her.
Wrapping my arms around her, I take her mouth, again. Her fingers in my hair, she kisses me back, sucking on my tongue, biting my lips, licking my canines.
I lift her onto the counter. Leaving her mouth, I latch on to a nipple — giving her what she wants, sucking her in, twirling and flattening the bud with my tongue. Purring with pleasure, her head tilts back brushing her long hair on my arm.
“God, Victor, I love that so much,” she moans.
Oh, I know, mi ninfa.
“Not near as much as I do.” I blow on the moisture I left behind before moving to the neglected nipple.
Rocking her hips, she presses her moist, hot core to my thigh. I reach down, gingerly part her folds, slip a finger inside her slickness. So wet.
I reward her instant rocking hips with a second finger. It’s still tight, but the second finger now fits.
“All that luscious juice just for me,” I whisper.
As my fingers fuck her, my mouth suckles, I watch her face, getting harder on the pleasure I see there.
Kissing down her belly while I keep fingering her, I kneel on the floor, lick her engorged clit. She presses forward with a groan.
“That’s it, peaches. Tell me you like it.” Delicious. I tongue her channel, use my thumb to rub her clit, then, alternate.
Seems she likes both methods equally. In fact, her excessive squirming has her dangerously close to falling off the counter. I brace her hips with my arm to keep her steady.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop. Please.” She fists my hair.
“Come for me, Cherie.” I increase my thumb pressure and movement to a fast vibration.
“Oooooooh, Victor!” She screams as the first wave of ecstasy hits. Her body tenses and pulses, her hot velvet clamps on my fingers so hard making them damn near immobile. Sucking her clit, I lengthen her orgasm as much as I can.
When she goes limp, I kiss my way back up her body. She opens her heavy eyelids just a slit. Her eyes fly open wide. “The tub!”
Suds billow four feet above it. I run over to turn off
the faucet while Cherie giggles.
“You think that’s funny, huh?” I peel the robe all the way off her and pick her up.
When she sees I’m heading for the tub, she starts squealing and laughing. “Victor, don’t you dare drop me.”
“Never, peaches.” I kiss her softly before stepping into the tub. Holding her tight, I plop down through the mountain of bubbles into the water.
As the suds poof up all over and around us, she laughs more. The sound burrows into me, making a home somewhere inside my chest. I’d fill the whole fucking room with bubbles just to hear it.
“You are crazy,” she says.
“For you,” I say.
I kiss her before scooting her between my legs to bathe her.
chapter twelve
VICTOR REACHES UP to flip a switch on the wall that turns on the jets in the tub.
“That agitation is going to create bubbles all the way to the ceiling.” I smile.
“Then I better put them to good use.” He scoops handfuls of suds and massages my throat, shoulders and arms. He scoops more to wash my legs. Then, his hands wash my breasts. The difference between Victor’s touch and Jesse’s is curious.
The way Victor massages them and rolls my nipples in his fingers drives my arousal right through the stratosphere.
I’m not the only one aroused. His erection –– thick, hard and solid, presses into my back. Using my hips, I wiggle my rear back and rotate slowly against him. His low groans and growls encourage me to continue. With an arm, he pulls me tighter to his pelvis and grinds with my movements. When he dips a hand under the water to caress between my legs, I squirm even more.
Nuzzling my ear, and kissing my throat and shoulder, he whispers, “You make me insane with that wiggly little ass of yours.”
“Let me turn around,” I say, trying to move his arm.
He loosens his grip so I can turn to straddle him. I weave my fingers in his hair, and lick and bite his lips.
Thumbing my nipples, he presses his pelvis up and down in want. His arousal glides between my thighs faster and faster. I kiss him harder, thrusting my tongue deep in his mouth. I feel him groan against my lips.
Accidental Lover (Wolven Moon Book 3) Page 8