by Diana Seere
The One. How in the hell did Lilah know? She was laughing, yet she was right.
The tip of his tongue ran across the bottom of his top teeth. A rawness greeted him. Not quite blood, as he saw on the back of Gavin’s hand as he smeared it, wiping his mouth, but close. The sucker punch had hurt, but it was a good kind of hurt.
The kind of pain that knocked you out of the misery of being a walking hormone.
Clarity emerged, and as Derry took a deep breath, he looked first at Lilah, then at Gavin.
“You’re both crazy,” he said bluntly.
Lilah’s face lit up. “Improvement! We’re talking!” She turned to Gavin. “Derry told us how he feels. Now it’s your turn.”
Gavin looked scandalized. “My turn to what?”
“Emote.”
“I would rather wear a Christmas sweater with Scottie dogs and blinking lights on it.”
“That can be arranged!” she chirped.
“And nothing else.”
“That,” she said, her voice going smoky, “can definitely be arranged.”
Gavin cringed in horror.
“What, exactly, am I supposed to emote about, my dear? Other than my blue balls.” He shot Derry a flared-nostril death stare. “You are a master of coitus interruptus.”
Derry looked pointedly at the discarded apron. “You mean your meat wasn’t pulled?”
Gavin lunged, and Derry, laughing, deftly stepped aside, leaving Gavin to bang into the counter next to Lilah, who closed her eyes and sighed.
“You’re both deflecting so you don’t have to deal with the underlying issue here.”
Derry was starting to enjoy this. He looked at Gavin. “I had no idea you were marrying Dr. Phil.”
Gavin cocked one eyebrow and gave Lilah a bemused look. “I’m learning more about her every day.”
“You two need to talk about how you feel. Gavin’s overly protective because Jess is my virginal sister, and Derry’s—”
“Virginal?” Derry asked, taken aback.
Lilah rolled her eyes. “As if you couldn’t tell.”
What was that supposed to mean? How could he tell? Did virgins taste different?
Virgin.
Dear God.
The enormity of the stakes in this situation hit him.
Jess was a virgin. No wonder she’d been so reserved. What he’d assumed was a cynical coyness had been… genuine?
A twenty-one-year-old virgin in twenty-first century America? Had she been raised in a convent?
Gavin gave Lilah the hairy eyeball, then shared a bit of it with Derry. “Great. You might as well wave a nice, juicy tenderloin in front of a starving pit bull’s nose, Lilah,” Gavin groaned.
Lilah frowned. “I know I shouldn’t break Jess’s trust, and this is private information, but—”
Gavin crossed the room in seconds, one finger poking the V at Derry’s shirt. “She really, truly is off limits.”
“No.”
“She isn’t some notch on your belt! Another maidenhead for you to claim, like an ivory tusk or a set of antlers!”
“You collect maidenheads?” Lilah asked, gawking.
“He’s speaking metaphorically.”
“Actually, I wasn’t.”
“I’m not drawn to virgins, for fuck’s sake, Gavin. I’m drawn to pussy. Any pussy. Except that’s not true any longer!” He slammed his fist into the granite counter, a container of wooden spoons overturning, spilling onto the ground like toothpicks.
“You like men now?” Lilah asked, perplexed.
“I like Jess now. And only Jess. I—” He rubbed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and scrubbed his jaw with his hands. “I can’t get her out of my head. When I close my eyes, I see her. The taste of her is on my tongue.”
Gavin shot him a withering look. “You haven’t.”
Derry gave a one-shouldered shrug that said more than he should have.
“Oh, Derry,” Gavin groaned.
“You slept with Jess?” Lilah squeaked.
“No.” His eyes darted anywhere but on their faces.
“But you…”
Derry pressed his lips together, suppressing the instinct to bite them. The less said, the better.
“But you got really close,” Lilah said, finishing Gavin’s unspoken thought.
Derry raised his eyebrows and tried to think of what to say. Being tongue-tied did not come naturally for him.
And yet here he was.
Lilah said, “Listen, Derry,” her voice threading a string of fear through his body. “Jess isn’t interested in you.”
“Then she has a funny way of showing it,” he replied, thinking of the feel of Jess’s lush thighs pressed against his ears.
“She’s…… she’s really, really serious about school. Being a doctor. Being self-contained and in control.”
Derry had found long rake marks on his shoulders this morning while showering.
Right.
“Et tu, Lilah? You’re telling me your little sister is off limits?”
“No. I just don’t want to see her heart broken.” She frowned, really studying Derry. “Or, maybe,” she added in a speculative voice, “yours?” Her little huffing laugh made it clear she didn’t know what to think.
Gavin did a double take and looked at Lilah like she was shifting into a salamander before his eyes. “You’re worried about Derry’s heart?”
“I am.”
“I’m more worried about his cock!”
“That’s less likely to be broken,” Lilah mused.
“Only because Sir Alexander Fleming discovered penicillin right before Derry’s sexual maturity,” Gavin muttered.
“And,” Lilah said archly, pointedly ignoring her husband-to-be, “if anyone will get hurt, it’s Jess.” Compassionate, warm eyes met his, so much like Jess’s and yet more open. Vulnerable. Unafraid of the world and its many dangers. “Derry’s made is very clear he has no problem with casual relationships. Jess is the opposite of casual. She’s not a notch on someone’s belt.”
With great determination, his future sister-in-law’s face set with a steely look. By God, for a flicker of a moment there, she looked like Asher.
Somehow, Lilah’s gentleness upset him more than if she’d been angry, like Gavin.
He’d had enough, and clearly, Lilah and Gavin had not.
“I’ll take my leave,” he said, invoking the formal language of their oldest brother, Asher.
“See yourself out!” Gavin shouted.
Derry did.
The limo drive home was considerably quieter than the one earlier in the night but also more dismal than the short jaunt from the club to Gavin’s place. The night was winding down, and he was alone.
By choice.
When the hell had he done this before?
Oh. Yes. That’s right. Now he remembered.
Never.
His loft greeted him like an old friend. Designed by one of the delectable young granddaughters of an old shifter family, the taste ran toward decadent Renaissance.
Or maybe that had been her body…
The old warehouse had once been a slaughterhouse that had hidden a speakeasy in the 1920s. Novo Club members told the tale of raucous Irish mob parties, hot flappers, and an environment where being part of a shadow world could pay dividends.
Derry also chose the building for another reason.
The safe room in the basement.
Not that kind of safe room. A shifter safe room. The shifter immigrants who had established the Novo Club in the 1880s had decided that redundancy was their friend. While the Novo was the only club of its kind, Boston and Cambridge were dotted with little bunkers, safe houses for hiding should another great purge come, as in the European witch hunts.
You couldn’t trust mankind.
Ever.
At best, though, you could work around them.
The high ceilings and enormous windows, coupled with exposed brick and painted beams and ductwork, all
owed for a tremendous amount of natural light to fill the wide-planked room. A series of paintings, all using light in Dutch Golden Age style, framed the walls. His own studio was tucked away in a corner, his painting a hobby he hid from everyone. Antiques, all bold and large, designed for a man of his size to stretch out and relax, reminded him of wonderful memories.
The red velvet chaise: doggy style.
The purple baroque settee: she was on top.
The leather Morris chair—
He burst out laughing at the memory of the threesome he’d engineered, with one under him and one over him.
And then his laughter died in his throat as memory played a trick on him, turning two women into one.
One with the face, breasts, and ass of Miss Jessica Murphy.
“Humph.” His grunt echoed through the cavernous main room, the tall windows flanked by thick velvet curtains, the city lights pouring into the loft as if they were from a bottle of the finest vintage.
Exhaustion racked him. His half-complete painting mocked him, begging for his hand.
Like his cock.
“Now you want attention?” he ground out, frustrated and angry and resentful and hurt—yes, hurt. Jessica Murphy turned him into a twisted, hormonal mess, and as he stripped naked and crawled under the covers of his pitifully empty bed, he hoped that sleep would purge him of these maddening thoughts about her.
He fell asleep only to awaken with his hand wrapped around himself, seed pouring onto the fine Egyptian cotton, his body covered in sweat.
And her scent invading the very root of his essence.
Chapter 11
Jess hauled her backpack and roller suitcase off the plane in Billings, Montana, exhausted from a delay in Minneapolis, the cramped seats, the junk food, her own worries.
Lilah hadn’t understood why she’d rejected the offer of taking Gavin’s private jet. As she dragged her suitcase through the airport, trying to figure out where to find the rental cars, she questioned her own stubbornness. It’s not like it would’ve been Derry’s plane. It was her soon-to-be brother-in-law’s.
But in the weeks since the incident—she called it an incident, like a cop describing a crime—she’d had to be aggressive about defending her personal space. Her one concession: she’d dropped Smoky off at her mom’s house, where some Dog Whisperer of Gavin’s would whisk Smoky away to a doggy resort where he’d have a blast.
Gavin had not been amused when she’d asked if she and Smoky could trade places.
Derry had expected for them to continue what they’d begun in the cellar. The next night, he’d sat at his seat in the club and smiled at her, sober and irresistible, looking like a schoolboy anticipating a special treat if he behaved himself.
Jess had switched sections with another server. After work, Derry met her on the sidewalk outside with a single rose in his hand.
“I need some time,” she’d told him.
“Of course,” he’d said. “We’ll go slow. I’m famous for my stamina.” He’d caught her hand and kissed it, dragging his tongue across her knuckles, almost making her forget what she’d decided.
“I can’t do this.”
“I’ll teach you,” he’d said.
“I don’t mean I can’t… Oh, you know what I meant!”
He’d grinned. Delighted with her, with his life. Such a happy, fun-loving man, not a care in the world.
It would never work.
“Give me some space, Derry. Please.”
Gazing up at her, his lips still pressed against her fingers, his mirth faded. His laughing eyes lost some of their joy. She’d braced herself for a flash of anger, perhaps an insult—men like him didn’t like to be denied, they weren’t used to it—but he’d squeezed her hand and gently let go. He almost seemed pensive, as if he’d expected this.
“Your wish is my command, my love,” he said, ducking his head in a bow.
Love. Him.
“I need to be alone,” she’d told him, fighting the sudden urge to cry. The birthmark on her neck had begun to sting like a sunburn.
Even tonight, in the airport weeks later, thousands of miles away, the spot still hurt. She couldn’t wear a scarf and had stopped wearing her favorite gold necklace. Ice packs and lotions didn’t soothe the pain.
Maybe she was being stupid. Why not sleep with him? The damage had been done. She was completely obsessed with him, finding it impossible to concentrate on her schoolwork, which was why she’d had to bring so much of it with her in a desperate hope she could catch up during the wedding. Well, not during the wedding itself. The days before and after, when everyone else was hiking and getting massages and facials and dancing and drinking and eating and having sex, hot sex, wild sex—
Her dreams hadn’t gotten any more G-rated. And strange, bizarre images kept interrupting the climax. It was always Derry, of course, but he wasn’t always himself. Sometimes—
Well, she wasn’t going to think about that. She had to get the car and find the Stanton’s ranch out there in the wilderness. The sun had set long ago, and she’d need the GPS to guide her through the dark, unfamiliar roads. If she kept imagining Derry as an animal, it was only because Lilah had put the idea in her head, raving about Gavin being a wolf.
She knew Derry wasn’t a wolf. If he were anything, he was something larger, stronger, cuddlier, more playful…
And she was insane. She turned her full attention to getting the rental car. Since the plane ticket hadn’t been cheap, and her small savings should be going toward school, she took the least expensive economy car they had. It was only slightly larger than her suitcase. Not petite herself, she had some trouble getting comfortable, even with the seat all the way back, but she soon forgot about physical discomforts as her mind returned to the big, handsome dilemma that was Derry. It was too dark to admire the unspoiled mountain view, so she was stuck with her own thoughts during the long, lonely drive.
“I was so worried about you!” Lilah crushed Jess in a bear hug, knocking the backpack off her shoulder.
“I told you I was on my way,” Jess said, giving her a quick squeeze. She noticed a man in a white jacket who’d just stolen her suitcase. “Hey!”
“He’s bringing it to your room, you nerd,” Lilah said, laughing. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes bright. She’d looked happy two weeks ago, but now she was shining with an inner light. It hurt to look at her, the joy burned so bright. “I picked the room out just for you. It’s got the best view of the lake.”
“There’s a lake?”
“Oh, Jess. Wait until you see. Why did you come so late? I’ll take you on a tour in the morning. The mountains are so gorgeous in the morning. And the afternoon. It’s unbelievable. I remember the first time I came here, I just stood gaping out the window. I was supposed to be serving drinks, but I just couldn’t believe how beautiful it is here.”
“And now it’s all yours,” Jess said.
A funny smile curved Lilah’s lips. “Not all mine,” she said, eyes twinkling. “We share it. The family shares it.”
“I’m welcome anytime, is that what you’re saying?” Jess asked. “Thanks, but I wouldn’t want to crash your love nest, at least not so soon in your marriage. I’m sure Gavin doesn’t want his sister-in-law barging in when he’s trying to romance his bride.”
Flushing pink, Lilah put a hand over her mouth and looked at her feet. She started to say something, then burst out laughing and turned a darker shade of red.
Jess was no idiot. She grinned. “Somebody already walked in on you?”
“You see, before me, Gavin’s apartment was kind of a home base for his brothers. They would come and go as they pleased.” Jess cleared her throat. “Let’s just say Gavin put a new lock on the door last week.”
Jess’s humor faded, realizing who it must’ve been. “Derry saw you naked?” A completely unreasonable jealousy washed over her. Lilah was even more beautiful in her birthday suit than fully clothed. Had Derry been turned on? Maybe he couldn’t help but ma
ke comparisons between the two of them, noticing Lilah’s perfect skin, her slightly less-outrageous breast size…
Lilah recovered her composure and gave her another hug. “Don’t you dare worry about being unwelcome here. Gavin and I have our own little cabin up there.” She pointed at a dim path through the woods beyond the circular drive. “You couldn’t possibly bother us. There’s plenty of room. All the brothers have their own places here. We even got Mom her own little place, a guest cottage near the sauna building. It’s quite the compound.”
If their mother had her own building, then Derry certainly would. That was a relief. Jess had been afraid of being cramped into a small country cabin with Derry, seeing him in the hall, the bathroom. But this was like a luxurious vacation resort. When Lilah led her inside, Jess gaped at the vaulted ceiling, the stone fireplace, the full wet bar and leather lounge. Uniformed staff were running here and there, offering cocktails and hors d’oeuvres on black trays to the two dozen well-dressed guests that socialized in the vast great room.
“Is Mom here yet?” Jess asked, gaping in awe. She’d known the Stantons were rich, but… this was something else.
“First thing tomorrow. Gavin sent his best guy back to escort her on the plane so she doesn’t have to lift a thing.” Their mom was mostly recovered from her hip surgery but still needed a little help with heavy objects.
Unfortunately, as Jess looked around the lavish home, she recognized a few faces from the club, wealthy, connected people she’d had to serve as a waitress. She’d known, as maid of honor, she’d have to socialize, but tonight she’d rather curl up in bed and catch up on her chemistry homework.
“You’re tired,” Lilah said, hooking her arm through Jess’s and guiding her away from the crowd. “You don’t have to deal with all this tonight. I want you to enjoy yourself. The Stantons are connected to the rich and powerful in a way I’ll never get used to. There’s no need to stress yourself out making small talk with strangers.”
“Doesn’t it stress you out?” Jess asked.
“Sometimes. But Gavin’s great. He keeps the really annoying ones far away from me.”
“It’s like you’ve married into the royal family or something,” Jess said. “Do you have a tiara?”