FallFury

by Jaci Burton

“I control my own destiny, Max. No one tells me what I will or won’t do.”

  “Maybe before you met me. I know you like to be in control, Shannon. I’ll bet you even have to tell your men what pleases you in the bedroom. You like to call the shots, tell them when and where.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But I’ll bet deep down inside, you’re hoping that somewhere out there is a man who’ll take that control away from you, who’ll tell you what to do and when. And who instinctively knows just what you need without having to ask you for directions how to get there. You’re begging for it. And I’m going to give it to you, exactly the way you want it, and exactly the way I want it.”

  No! His egotistical suggestions didn’t excite her in the least. In fact, she was just about ready to haul off and slap him one.

  “Mind if I cut in?”

  Saved by the bell. Or in this case, her mother. Who was, as usual, beautifully attired in a long, golden dress that caught the light and dazzled like sparkling champagne. She kissed her mother on the cheek. “Hi Mom. You look stunning. When did you get here?”

  Her mother grinned. “Merci, ma belle. You look beautiful, too. We slipped in about five minutes ago. Your father and I have been watching you dance with this handsome man here. Care to introduce us?”

  Shannon stepped back and hugged her father, grateful for their timely interruption. “Max Devlin, this is my mother, Angelina and my father, Galen.”

  Not the least bit wary, Max enthusiastically shook her father’s hand, then kissed her mother on both cheeks. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Your daughter has me so spellbound I didn’t notice you standing there. My apologies.”

  Max sized up Galen immediately. An exchange of something elemental and slightly magical occurred between them, a spark that he felt like a warm air current sizzling through him. An awareness, almost like a meeting between two alphas of opposing packs. He’d seen it before, felt it before. Respected it. Galen Storm was not someone to mess with. Max had sensed the same thing when he first met Logan and Aidan. Without words, he communicated his intent to Galen, showing his respect by stepping away from Shannon, acknowledging that his child didn’t belong to Max. Yet.

  Galen nodded. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Max. I’ve heard very good things about you from Melissa.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’m honored to be working on The Rising Storm’s public relations campaign.”

  “Okay, before you two get involved in business talk, I’d like to dance with this young man here. Galen, dance with your daughter.”

  “Yes, dear,” Galen responded dutifully, winking at Angelina as he led Shannon around the dance floor.

  Max pulled Angelina into his arms. Damn, the woman was breathtakingly beautiful, no matter what her age. Petite, her body still that of a young woman’s. Glossy, dark hair reflected the light of the chandeliers, curls streaming down the side of her face and resting against prominent cheekbones. Her amber eyes sparkled.

  “You’re here for more than just The Rising Storm’s campaign,” she said.

  Now how could she know that? Or maybe she was just fishing.

  “I’m not sure what you mean, Mrs. Storm.”

  “Call me Angelina. And I think you know exactly what I mean.”

  Did he? He knew the Storms had magic, and he could certainly feel a power emanating from this diminutive yet obviously commanding woman. If Shannon had it, then it stood to reason that Angelina had it, too.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you think you know, and I’ll tell you if you’re right?”

  She laughed, soft and gently. “Oh, you’re very good, Max. I can see why Shannon likes you.”

  “She told you that?” That would be a surprise if it were the case. As it was, he’d been expecting a resounding slap across the face from her before her parents showed up.

  “Of course not. I know my daughter. She’s very stubborn.” Lowering her voice and glancing around the room, she whispered, “She gets that from her father.”

  Now it was Max’s turn to laugh. “I think she might get some of her high spiritedness from her mother, too.”

  “Maybe. Now as far as what you want, I can sense you’re different from most men.”

  That was an understatement. “Go on.”

  “And you have an agenda while here. One that goes beyond the campaign for The Rising Storm.”

  Okay, she was right on that one, too.

  “You’re very powerful, Max. But keep this in mind. So am I, as is my family. I sense you have an attraction to my daughter, and while I don’t necessarily feel that’s a bad thing, I won’t stand by and watch her be hurt by anyone. We defend our own.”

  A fierce mother protecting her young. How could Max not respect that? “I understand, Angelina. And believe me, the last thing I want is to hurt Shannon. I believe we share a destiny.”

  She arched a brow. “A destiny? How so?”

  Max wasn’t certain how much she’d already guessed about him, so he wasn’t going to volunteer too much information. How could he explain to Shannon’s mother that he was a werewolf and had chosen her daughter for his mate? She just might not like that idea. “I believe we’re fated to be together.”

  “Interesting you should say that. I felt a connection between you two as soon as I walked in the room tonight.”

  That knowledge would probably help him later on, provided he needed some Storm family assistance in getting Shannon to see the light.

  After they danced, Angelina directed him to several of the key business people in New Orleans and introduced him. She stayed by his side, joined shortly thereafter by Galen. Max spent the better part of an hour with them both, impressed with their business acumen and their inherent ability to make their customers feel like old friends.

  For the next several hours he’d met just about every important business contact, and had spent time with both Logan and Aidan, doing a little promotion of the hotel/casino as well as talking about the public relations program.

  He liked this family. A lot. They were close knit but friendly enough to open themselves up to a stranger like him. Reminded him a lot of his own family.

  During the entire evening, Shannon had kept her distance from him, a fact that apparently was not lost on Angelina as they watched Shannon dancing with her father again.

  “She’s avoiding you.”

  “So I see.”

  “You’re not going to let her get away with that, are you?”

  “Not very likely. She and I have unfinished business this evening.”

  Angelina grinned and nodded. “Good. Take me over to my husband.”

  He swept Angelina in his arms and moved casually toward Galen and Shannon.

  “She won’t be easy, you know.”

  Max laughed. “I think I already knew that.”

  “She’s headstrong.”

  “I like that. But so am I. I want an equal, Angelina, not a meek woman. And Shannon is definitely not meek.”

  “Agreed. You two will have to fight it out, then. But I feel something deep within you, Max. Something elemental and powerful. You know of our magic, and I know of yours.”

  Once again, she surprised him. “You know what I am?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

  “And you don’t object?”

  Angelina shook her head. “There are all types of people in the world. Some have no magic within them at all. Then there are others, like you and me, who are different, possessing powers that the average person has no knowledge of. As I told you before, as long as you don’t harm my daughter and your intent is honorable, I have no objection to what you are. A merger of Storm and Devlin magic could be very potent.”

  “That it could.” A new admiration for the strength of the Storm family filled Max with hope for the future. He felt a lot less lonely in this strange new place.

  “Now I’m going to return you to Shannon, who, by the way, is currently shooting daggers at you. I’m certain she thinks y
ou and I are plotting against her.”

  “Aren’t we?” he replied with a grin, dancing her over to her husband and daughter.

  Her eyes widened and she threw her head back and laughed, then patted Max on the cheek. “You’re a charmer, Max Devlin.”

  “And you’re a lovely woman, Angelina.”

  “Merci. Ah, there’s my gorgeous husband.” Angelina moved gracefully from Max’s to Galen’s arms, then pushed Shannon toward Max. “Ma belle fille, go dance with Max so he doesn’t feel all alone.”

  Sauntering quickly away, Angelina and Galen left Shannon standing in front of him.

  A very unhappy looking Shannon. She started to turn away, but he caught her wrist and pulled her against his chest, then weaved her into the throng of dancers.

  “I don’t care to dance any more,” she said, gritting her teeth through a smile.

  “Oh, but we had just gotten to the good part earlier when we were interrupted by your parents.” He spotted the balcony and maneuvered them closer to the double doors.

  “You mean the part where I drive my knee up between your legs and crush your balls?”

  “Nah, not that part. The part where I sweep you out onto the balcony for a little alone time.”

  Before she could offer a protest, he had moved through the open balcony doors.

  The night was breathtaking, like the woman in his arms. Sultry, steamy, filled with magic and passion. Her hair gleamed in the partial moonlight, her skin taking on a pearl-like glow.

  “I’m going back inside.” She turned, but he held tight to her wrist.

  “Stay here with me.”

  “We’re not here to play, Max. I have work to do.” Anger tightened her features. But she didn’t tug at his hand again.

  “You’ve worked long enough. Now it’s time to relax a bit.”

  “Does ‘no’ just not fit into your vocabulary?”

  “Not where you’re concerned. Besides, you don’t really want to say no. You want to say yes, but you’re afraid.”

  She wrenched her arm away and turned toward the balcony, gazing out onto the busy street below. Okay, they were making headway. She hadn’t gone inside yet.

  “Psychoanalyzing me now?”

  “Not at all. I just sense your emotions.”

  Despite the heat, a cold wind swept over them. Shannon’s hair blew back in the stiff breeze, yet she didn’t budge nor appear to be cold.

  “Don’t assume to know how I feel, Max.”

  Max stood firm despite Shannon’s attempt to freeze him. “Let me tell you exactly how you feel, Shannon. You’re angry because you can’t control me like you’ve controlled other men in your life. You’re angry at yourself because you feel something for me that you don’t want to, and it scares you.”

  When he stepped closer, the wind howled fiercely, the temperature dropping by degrees. She’d put up a barrier, or was trying to. But he’d never been one to let anything keep him from a goal. Undaunted, he stopped behind her, reaching for her arms. Instead of grabbing her, he caressed her from her shoulders to her wrist. She shuddered, but didn’t turn around.

  “You’re wrong. That’s not how I feel.”

  “Deny it all you like, but there’s a connection between us.”

  “That’s my mother talking.”

  “Your mother and I agree, then. There’s something that ties us together, Shannon.”

  “That’s all bullshit. Nobody tells me what I should feel or for whom.”

  “I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. You already feel this way; you’re just trying to deny it. I’m curious as to why.”

  “I don’t want you.”

  He turned her around, trying to be gentle, but his patience was wearing thin. He wanted her. His cock was raging, the primal instinct to mate overpowering his normal common sense. The urge to slam her against the brick wall behind them, lift her skirt and drive his cock in hard and deep grew stronger by the minute. If they didn’t leave this party and soon, that’s exactly what he would be doing.

  Ignoring her denial, he swept his hand over her hair, shuddering at the silken feel of the strands as he threaded his fingers through them. She opened her mouth to speak, but he’d had enough of arguing. Instinct told him to follow through on his deepest desire, and right now his deepest desire was trying her damnedest to get away from him.

  That he wouldn’t allow, so he followed his instinct. He backed her up against the wall then drove his mouth down over hers, silencing anything she might’ve said. His tongue invaded, his lips coaxing hers to respond.

  He tried to be gentle. God knows, he tried hard, but lust had taken over, the need to possess stronger than the desire to take things slowly.

  Expecting a fight, he was surprised when she whimpered and met his thrusting tongue with equal fervor, her body drawing closer to his. He wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to him, her full breasts pressed against his chest.

  The wind died down, replaced instead by a simmering heat that made him want to strip them both naked right there on the balcony.

  Not a bad idea at that.

  No, there were people inside. Passion warred with logic. He had to get them out of there, had to find a way to get off this balcony and head to the hotel.

  To his suite, where he could undress her slowly, savor every moment of this first time.

  Who was he kidding?

  “Aw, fuck it,” he grumbled against her lips.

  Shannon tore her mouth from his and met his gaze. “My thoughts exactly.”

  Chapter Six

  Shannon knew she would regret this later. But later was…later. Right now, all she could think of was Max.

  He buried his face in her neck, his tongue licking along the delicate skin. She dug her nails into his shoulder and held him in place, never wanting the delicious sensations to end. His low, guttural growls drove her crazy. Delirious with passion, she didn’t even care they were on the balcony and that nearly everyone she knew stood only a few feet inside.

  Screw it. She wanted this. Summoning up a blast of wind, she directed it at the doors and they blew closed. For good measure, she summoned another strong gust to scoot the wrought-iron loveseat snug against the doorway.

  That should take care of anyone wanting to wander outside. As far as the people below, they’d never see. Shrouded in darkness and tucked against the wall, a large potted palm provided enough coverage to assure them privacy.

  Hell, this was New Orleans, and they were smack in the middle of the French Quarter. People wouldn’t bat an eyelash at a couple engaged in a little outdoor passion anyway.

  Max lifted his head and looked at the door and loveseat, then at her. “You do that?”

  “What if I did?”

  He grinned, his teeth gleaming bright white against his tan face. “Great idea.”

  His smile died and he grasped the back of her neck, drawing her mouth to his. He licked her lips, coaxing her mouth open with his tongue, then diving inside.

  A mix of emotions clouded her judgment. She shouldn’t want this. Impulsive behavior was so unlike her, and yet she felt as if she’d been pulled into a vortex and was powerless to stop the raging storm.

  Keeping a tight leash on her powers was going to be difficult if Max continued to sweep his hands possessively over her body. Like a man in desperate search of something, he gripped her arms, his fingers traveling down and over her hips, clenching and unclenching his fingers against her flesh.

  When he raised the back of her dress and palmed her buttocks, flames of burning desire licked at her skin He was hot. She was even hotter. And more than ready for whatever he had in mind.

  His touch wasn’t gentle and exploratory. Barely leashed passion burned inside him, threatening to consume them both.

  An insane sense of urgency enveloped her and she knew that sex with Max would be combustible. She prayed for the strength to keep the hurricane at bay.

  “Too many clothes,” he murmured, bending do
wn to lick the swell of her breasts rising above the top of her dress. She threaded her fingers in his hair and held tight as his tongue snaked into the valley of her cleavage.

  With a savage tug he pulled the bodice of the dress down, baring her breasts. He kissed each globe, laving her nipples with his tongue. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip to keep from shrieking as tight pleasure coiled deep within her. He tugged on the aching buds, just as he had in her dream fantasy.

  He devoured her breasts, taking as much of them into his mouth as would fit, and wrapping his hand around the rest. Moaning loudly, she closed her eyes tight and just went with the flow of incredible sensations.

  When he’d had his fill of tasting her, he dropped to his knees and she opened her eyes, feeling a breeze between her thighs as he lifted her dress.

  Max leaned in and pressed his mouth against her panties, his hot breath tantalizing her with the promise of what would come next.

  But surely not out here. He wanted to fuck her, that much she knew. But this?

  “Max, stop.” The words came out like a sensual plea rather than a command to cease. She was powerless against his onslaught, barely able to breathe, let alone carry on a conversation.

  “No,” he mumbled. “Need to taste you.”

  “Later.”

  “Now!”

  Her legs shook with the force of her desire as Max spread them apart, then tugged roughly at her panties. The feel of the lacy silk thong scraping her legs was more tantalizing than anything she’d ever experienced. Max helped balance her as she stepped out of them. He tucked the scrap of black fabric into his coat pocket.

  The knowledge she was fully naked under her dress, that her breasts were bared to someone who might see, both mortified and aroused her.

  But nothing was more enticing than seeing Max on his knees before her, lifting up the hem of her dress and staring at her sex.

  When his gaze met hers, his eyes were pools of dark desire, his lashes like the darkest night and those strange yellow flecks in his eyes were glowing.

  “I love the way you smell,” he whispered. “Like sweet honeysuckle mixed with the unmistakable scent of sex. I’m going to eat you until you scream for me, Shannon. And then I’m going to fuck you until you scream again. And I don’t give a damn who hears it.”