by Moira Rogers
That prompted a laugh as she reached for the door handle. “He got to stay because she wants to see him naked.”
If he never had to hear about Andrew and sex again, he’d die a happy man. “I don’t think she’s going to get that. Andrew’s got some screwed-up thing in his head about Kat not liking him if she really gets to know him.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Yeah, well…” He grinned and followed her through the front door. “You girls make us boys sort of stupid.”
Her keys clattered on the counter as she reached for the coffee pot. “You boys turn us into idiots too.” She eyed him while she started the coffee. “I have a lot of stuff to tell you. About how I grew up. About the way things are.”
“Alec’s told me some of it.” It was hard to think about what that had been, though. The graceful curve of her neck bore a tiny bruise. A mark.
His mark.
His hands shook as he curled them around the counter and jerked his gaze away from her. His voice was strained when he spoke again. “I know the basics.”
“Then the first thing you should know is that I’m not in danger. It sounds ridiculous, since we’re having to hide my twin sister away, but it’s true. I’m the Alpha’s heir. No one is going to touch me.”
Alec had told him same thing, but it didn’t ease the tense worry. “I can hear that intellectually, but I’m not sure how to convince my instincts.”
“I don’t know if you can.” Nick leaned against the counter. “You missed breakfast?”
“Yeah. I could pick something up for us, if you want. Or cook, if you don’t mind me messing around in your kitchen.”
“God, no. Mess around all you want.” She pulled open the refrigerator and gestured inside. “I’d help, but there’s not a lot of stuff I can make without setting off the smoke detectors.”
Cooking was something he could do, though it seemed somewhat less than heroic. Unless people are hungry. He crossed the kitchen to peek in the fridge. “My mother was a chef, you know. I’m a pretty decent cook.”
“I didn’t know that.” Nick eyed him over the fridge door. “Is it rude if I make you fix me breakfast while I take a shower and pack some things for Michelle? You can absolutely tell me if it is.”
“No, it’s polite to give me something useful to do. I really need to help out, Nick.”
She grinned at him. “Then the waffle maker is on the counter. I’ll be upstairs. Yell if you need anything.”
Nick proved to have a well-stocked kitchen for someone who claimed to be unable to cook. Derek used the familiar ritual of mixing batter as a way to quiet his mind, fighting against the part of him that wanted to follow the sound of the water. Nick was upstairs, in the shower. Wet and naked…
The handle of the wooden spoon in his hand creaked dangerously, and he released it with a muffled curse. Three hours of fitful sleep and a screaming match with his cousin, and he still couldn’t keep his mind out of his pants. Nick’s scent surrounded him, embarrassingly enticing and more than a little arousing. Not even the smell of cooking waffles could erase the subtle hints of jasmine and musk he associated with Nick.
It didn’t take her long to come back downstairs. She wore a flowing black and white patterned skirt and a black tank top, and her hair hung in wet tendrils around her shoulders. “I didn’t want you to have to wait. We can pack after breakfast.”
A drop of water fell from her hair and rolled down her throat, tracing over the mark of his teeth. Blood pounded in his ears and he told himself to look away.
Begged himself to look away.
She reached past him and took two mugs from a shelf. They hit the counter with a clatter, and he noticed for the first time the slight trembling of her hands. “The waffles look—I mean, everything—” Her words cut off with a frustrated moan, and she swayed toward him. “You’re killing me.”
“I’m killing us both.” He barely recognized his own voice. The words sounded low, harsh. Barely human. “Fuck, Nick, you have too much to worry about to deal with me—”
“Shh. I think…” She pressed her face to his chest and slid her hands around his waist. “If we keep fighting it, we’ll both be useless, Derek.” She tugged his shirt free and pressed a shaking hand to his bare skin.
He had the presence of mind to yank the cord to the waffle iron out of the wall socket before he grabbed her around the waist. She was so tiny, and once he’d used one hand to knock the bowl—and the rest of the batter—into the sink, there was plenty of counter space. His mouth found hers as he dropped her onto the tile, so far beyond desperate he couldn’t help but groan.
She kissed him with almost bruising force, breaking away only to pull his shirt over his head. “I need you so much,” she whispered against his mouth. “I can’t think about anything but you touching me.”
“Christ, Nick.” He got his hands under her shirt and coaxed it up, impossibly aroused by the smooth skin of her back under his fingers.
She dragged the black cotton over her head with an impatient noise, baring her body to the waist. “Tell me.”
The things he wanted to do didn’t feel very human. His hands shook as he slid them up to cup her breasts. “You need to tell me how to slow down, because I want to drag you to the floor and make a Discovery Channel feature.”
Heat flared in her eyes, and she framed his face with her hands. “I don’t know how. That’s what I meant last night. I’ve never—” She moaned and tilted her head back, offering him the pale curve of her throat. “Not like this, Derek. Not like you.”
He got one hand under her skirt as he licked the spot over her pulse. His knuckles brushed damp fabric and the last shred of sanity fled when he realized she was every bit as aroused as he was.
He got them to the floor, but he couldn’t remember how. He shoved her skirt up above her hips and dragged at the expensive little panties, succeeding only in getting them to her knees before he had to touch her.
She bucked up with a low cry, her bare feet sliding on the polished tile. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he stroked his fingers through her wet folds, and she rocked into his touch and watched him with glazed eyes. “More. I want you.”
He wanted to make her come, to do something smooth or sexy or exhibiting the tiniest bit of self-control. Instead he urged her over and tore at her underwear until it ripped away in his hand. The bare line of her spine beckoned, and he licked the back of her shoulder as he moved above her. “Tell me I can.”
“Yes.” She sighed the word as she reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair. “Anything you want.”
It was too fast, and he was supposed to care. There were probably other things he should be thinking about too, aside from how quickly he could get her onto her knees and how good it would feel to be inside her.
And then he was inside her, and he’d been wrong because it was so much better than anything he could have imagined. Nick cried out and threw her head back against his shoulder, already shuddering around his cock. She murmured to him, hoarse, whispered nonsense, but still he knew she meant for him to move, to drive her on. To make her scream.
He got a hand around her and slid it down until he encountered slick heat, the sensation enough to make him moan. His thrusts came too fast, too hard, but he couldn’t stop. Not when she writhed beneath him, whimpering and moving back to meet each advance. He rubbed his fingers over her clit and found he remembered one word. “Nick. Nick.”
Her entire body jerked and shook. Her head crashed into his chin, but he barely felt it. Instead, he focused on her voice, trembling and needy and finally screaming his name as she came.
Derek couldn’t stop himself from biting the back of her shoulder as the clenching heat of her body dragged him over the edge. He came with a roar, drowning out the sound of her voice.
She shivered under him, her back tight against his chest, and finally exhaled with a low curse. “Not crappy. Amazing.”
He wasn’t entirely sure he could speak,
but he tried anyway. “Crazy out of control and still sort of awesome.”
Nick groaned quietly. “Come on, Derek. I feel really good. Don’t hurt my feelings with ‘sort of’.”
“Sort of,” he repeated as he shifted to his side, heedless of the cool tile floor. He rolled onto his back and pulled Nick on top of him. “You only came once.”
“Once? Really?” She grinned and bit his jaw. “Seemed like more than that.”
“Mmm, no. I was keeping track.” He curled his fingers in her hair, loving the way it felt under his hand. “Christ, you still need to eat.”
Nick tucked her head under his chin. “So do you. We need to get some things together for Michelle and find some time to talk, and—” She lifted her head suddenly and stared down at him. “Can you still take that vacation you mentioned last night?”
“Sure, Nick. Hell, Andrew might not let me back through the office doors if I wanted to be there.”
She stroked her thumb over his cheek. “Can you stay here with me? Just until we figure out this whole thing with the Conclave? It’s the only thing I can think of that’ll calm your instincts. And…me.” Her lips brushed his. “It’ll be better for me too.”
They hadn’t managed a single date yet, and she was inviting him to take up residence in her home. He would have been thrilled if half of him hadn’t been terrified that he’d never want to leave. But the wolf replied for him, whether he wanted it to or not. “Yes. Of course.”
She studied him wryly. “Too much, too fast, but I don’t know how else to fix it, Derek.”
He snorted. “You don’t get it. My real concern is how I’ll make myself move back out when it’s over.”
Something softened in her eyes as she sat up and smiled down at him. “Let’s burn one bridge at a time.”
“Fair enough.” He reached up to curl a damp lock of her brown hair around his finger. “You should get dressed. I’ll see what I can salvage of our breakfast.” And my clothing.
She climbed up and pulled on her tank top. Then she balled up the expensive silk remains of her panties and jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll be upstairs, okay?”
She ran out before he could say anything else, even if he’d been able to find the words.
Chapter Five
Nick fled upstairs. It was bad enough she’d attacked Derek in the kitchen when they had more important things to do, but to ask him to move in with her?
He had to think she was crazy.
To top it all off, she hadn’t given a thought to birth control before yanking off his clothes in the kitchen. She stared at her reflection in the mirror before stripping out of her tank top and skirt. Maybe Derek hadn’t had much experience dealing with the mating instinct, but she knew better.
She should have known better.
“Fuck. Fuck.” She covered her face with her hands. “Damned mating—” Her words cut off in an angry sigh. No matter how much Derek affected her, she couldn’t afford to get distracted by the need to touch him, especially to the exclusion of everything around them. Michelle couldn’t afford that.
She couldn’t afford for Nick to sit around brooding, either.
Nick grabbed some fresh clothes, dressed hurriedly and snatched the extension phone from her bedside table. The Conclave had to have a trace on her phone already, but they’d be idiots not to suspect Mahalia of being the one to help Michelle and Aaron flee.
The woman who had been a surrogate mother to her for the past few years answered on the second ring. “I’ve been waiting for you to call, Nicole.”
The receiver’s plastic casing cracked, and Nick had to remind herself to loosen her grip. “Thank you. I don’t know what I can do for you, but I owe you.”
“Don’t insult me like that. How is she?”
“Exhausted. Scared.” Nick shuddered. “Worried as hell.”
“Don’t blame her one bit.”
“Me either.” She hesitated. “Does Daddy know?”
“That I helped?” Mahalia sounded wholly unconcerned. “Honey, if he can’t figure it out, he doesn’t need to be the Alpha.”
Which was the witch’s way of saying John Wesley Peyton had known and let them slip away. “Are they giving you a hard time?”
“They dragged me before their little board table,” Mahalia admitted. “It was all very official and intimidating.”
Nick fought a vaguely hysterical laugh. Intimidated was the last thing the older woman seemed. “Threatened you?”
“Mmm. Said I should just tell them what they wanted to know, because they have ways of encouraging people to talk.”
Fury washed over her in a red wave, and Nick gritted her teeth. “You didn’t react well, I take it?”
Mahalia laughed, the amusement edged with something dark and determined. “I told the bastards they could try, they just wouldn’t like what happened.”
“Good for you.”
“They don’t scare me, baby girl.” She remained silent for a few moments. “How’s he holding up?”
Aaron. “He’s getting it done. Mahalia, you know who I’d call first.”
“I do. And so does the Conclave.” The words carried a soft warning.
Alec didn’t give a damn if every council in the United States knew he took every chance he could get to buck their rules and traditions. “Do you know where we’d take them?”
It took her a moment to answer. “I have a good idea.”
“Is it safe enough?” Nick wanted to trust Alec and Jackson, but this was her sister. She had to find out everything she could. “Do they have anyone strong enough to get in there?”
“Hell, no. Not anymore, anyway. It’s safe.”
Nick released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Thanks, Mahalia.”
“Don’t mention it, Nicole. Take care of her.”
She heard the whisper of Derek’s bare feet against the floor a moment before he knocked on her door. “Nick?”
“I have to go, Mahalia. I’ll call later.”
“That better be a promise,” she shot back. “Now, you give Derek Gabriel a kiss for me, you hear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Nick hung up as Derek opened the door. “Is something wrong?”
Derek held up his cell phone. “Alec just called. Jackson’s with your sister, but Alec’s coming over. He said someone from the Conclave is here.”
She hadn’t had time to prepare herself for the political shit. “Did he say who?”
“I believe the quote was ‘Enrica’s punk cowboy mama’s boy is on his way to try and bag your woman. Don’t eat him or you’ll start a national incident.’”
“Luciano Maglieri,” she said automatically. “His mother’s on the Conclave. She’s probably heading the search, since my father obviously can’t do it.” It was clear what Enrica had planned. “Luke’s a beta, always has been, but marrying me would guarantee him control of the Conclave. That’s what Enrica wants. Why he’s coming here.”
Derek looked a little queasy. “So dynastic marriages are still all the rage for shapeshifters?”
“For some.” It was part of what she had to tell him, part of everything he’d need to understand to help her through Michelle’s defection. “The ones who have power, like Enrica, want to keep it. The ones without power will do just about anything to get it. Like—like Alec’s father.”
“Oh.” Derek leaned against the doorframe. “Alec said his father had called him, but not why. I guess he’s supposed to come over here and try to bag you first?”
“Something like that.” Nick fell back on the bed and stared at the slowly revolving ceiling fan. “I want no part of it, Derek. It’s…everything I wanted to get away from.” She couldn’t breathe. “It’s crazy.”
“Hey.” His feet made almost no noise as he crossed to stand next to the bed, and he brushed his fingers over her hand. “Alec said almost the exact same thing. At least he’s on your side of whatever this is.”
“Luciano doesn’t want me, either. Wh
at I don’t know is what Enrica’s going to do when we both say no.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Derek suggested softly, and she could tell the words hurt him. “I mean, don’t marry him…but don’t say no right away. Wouldn’t that buy us some time?”
Nick rolled to her side and looked up at him. “Maybe. Or maybe if I hesitate, it’s as good as blood in the water. She’ll try to force my hand while I’m weak, come in for the kill.”
“Shit.” He eased onto the bed next to her. “So you turn down his offer and what happens next? They come looking for Michelle?”
“Maybe.” She tried to stay still, but instinct drove her to press closer to Derek’s strength, his warmth. “I don’t think this particular situation has ever come up before. I think it’s safe to say they’ll come, but who knows what they’ll do when they get here?” She sat up and turned her face to his shoulder.
He tugged her into his lap with both arms around her waist. “I didn’t get how bad this could get. I thought I’d be more useful.”
“We’re all winging it, Derek.” She looked into his eyes. “If you keep me from having a nervous breakdown, I’ll owe you my life.” And my sister’s.
“Hey, I can try that.” He leaned down until his lips almost touched hers and froze as the sound of a car door slamming reached their ears. “Fuck. I hope that’s Alec and not the punk cowboy.”
The doorbell rang as they reached the downstairs landing, and Nick yanked open the door. “Tell me something good, Alec.”
Alec stared at them for one tense, silent moment before his nostrils flared and he laughed. “Good news is, only an idiot’s going to try to seriously propose marriage to you with Derek’s scent all over you. Luke’s a mama’s boy, but he’s not an idiot.”
“It’s not his fault she tromps all over him.” She left the door open and stalked back toward the kitchen. “The Conclave has been threatening Mahalia. What does your father know?”
“Jack and shit, as usual. He’s freaked out that Luke might get his hands on you and cement Enrica’s place as the queen bitch.”