by T. S. Joyce
He inhaled deeply and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “You really do smell like sex. That’s a compliment.”
“Well, it’s a terrible compliment.”
“Thank you.”
She shook her head against his shoulder, and he imagined her rolling her eyes. She did that a lot, but with a smile that said she wasn’t that annoyed with him.
The door swung open, and Winter stumbled in with a pair of pink girly drinks in her hands and her eyes closed tightly. She was wobbling on her heels and smelled like a brewery. “Stop fooling around. I have to talk to y’all.” Winter cracked an eye open and sighed with relief. Then she leaned against the wall beside them and slid down, landing a little too hard. Some of her drink spilled on the dingy tile floor.
“Sloppy drinker,” Dustin accused.
Winter responded by handing him the drink, which had, in fact, five maraschino cherries sitting in the bottom and a purple miniature umbrella.
Emma was cracking up at herself.
“You’re the worst,” he muttered, but he took the horrid drink like a shot, because manners. Werewolves sometimes had them.
Logan kicked open the door and came in holding two more pink drinks and looking pissed. “She fucking ordered them for everyone.” He sat down beside Winter with the grumpiest frown on his face.
Dustin snorted, and now Emma was really laughing in his arms, shoulders shaking. God he loved her.
Beast came in four seconds later with two more girl-drinks. He smelled angry. And like maraschino cherries. And last but not least to this bathroom party were Kane and Rowan. How many monsters could they fit in one tiny bathroom? Here was the answer.
Beast handed Kane the fruity drinks and stumbled over to the urinals on the wall. A jingle of his belt and the rip of his zipper, his back to them, Beast started pissing.
“Dude,” Logan growled. “There are girls in here.”
“Girls pee, too,” Rowan slurred.
“How much have you had to drink?” Dustin asked the crowd.
“Enough,” Kane muttered, as he sat on Dustin’s other side and handed him another pink drink.
“Hard pass,” Dustin said.
“Fucking drink it. I’m going to puke if I have to drink both.”
Dustin growled but chugged the nasty drink as Rowan settled on the other side of Kane. He felt heavy and terrifying so Dustin shifted his weight toward Winter so he wouldn’t barf at the raw dominance wafting from the dragon.
With a snarl, Logan leaned over his mate and shoved Dustin’s head. “Back off. Mine.”
“I strongly dislike all of you,” Dustin groused. “Not you Emma. You’re pretty and let me have sex with you, and Winter, you’re only annoying in the mornings.”
“I second that,” Beast said, turning from his piddle-session. “Fuck mornings.”
“Did you know public restrooms are one of the filthiest places in the world?” Winter asked. “I read that somewhere.”
Emma was slurping out of Kane’s remaining drink in his hand while the alpha sucked on his mate’s neck. Tonight was weird.
No. As Winter chattered on with the most useless facts on the planet and Beast agreed with everything as he washed his hands, while Kane and Rowan sucked face, and Emma hugged him closer, Dustin thought maybe tonight wasn’t weird, but perfect instead. The perfect follow-up to the fear that his pack would catch up to them and hurt Emma.
Sure, the Blackwing Crew would eventually find him out and probably kill him in some torturous way, but for now, they felt a lot safer than the pack. Safe. He huffed a breath and massaged the back of Emma’s head.
Safe was just a word, and words meant nothing.
But for Emma?
Dustin frowned down at her. She finished off Kane’s drink with a loud slurp. She smiled up at him and looked so proud and so naughty. Yeah, she was safe. She had to be. He would make sure of it. He didn’t know how, but he was going to get her out of the trouble that clung to him like a second skin. He would bring hell to earth to make sure no one hurt his little human. She was his to protect, and this was the moment he accepted it. Accepted that she was his priority, that her breaths were more important than his, that her heartbeat was more vital to him than his own. It was the moment he made a silent oath to go to war for her, no matter what it cost him. Because she had to be okay. If Emma existed on this earth, Dustin could believe in goodness.
She poked both corners of his lips with her forefingers and shoved them up into a smile. When he chuckled, Emma sighed a happy sound.
“Why are we all hanging out in the bathroom?” Winter asked suddenly, looking around like she was confused about how she’d gotten there. Sloppy, sloppy.
“Why wouldn’t the Blackwings hang out in a dirty bathroom for their first celebration?” Kane asked blandly. “Seems fitting enough to me.”
“Agree,” Logan said, lifting his full drink. When the umbrella fell out and fluttered to the ground, he stomped on it like a roach.
Winter’s face went all mushy, and she cuddled up to the lunatic like he was cute.
“Wait, the Blackwings?” Emma asked Kane.
“Yeah, you’ve all been invited now. I mean, you still have to bite this lying asshole to get in.” Kane tossed Dustin a hate-filled look. “But you all got the folders.”
“Didn’t you know we were celebrating as a crew tonight?” Rowan asked from the other side of her mate.
“But Beast hasn’t gotten one,” Emma pointed out.
Beast slammed a pink drink back and gulped. “I got one the other day.”
“What?” Logan asked too loud. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Beast shrugged his massive shoulders. “No one asked.”
Everyone sat frozen in silence, staring at the scar-faced behemoth.
Emma was the first to snort, and Winter and Rowan followed. Their quiet snickers turned to laughter, and even Logan chuckled. Beast looked pissed and crossed his arms as he glared at them. Kane shook his head and sighed the saddest sound, and now Dustin couldn’t help laughing either.
“To the worst crew in the world,” Dustin toasted them. “To the D-Team.”
The others repeated in unison, “To the D-Team.”
And then they downed the rest of the girly drinks.
Chapter Nine
Emma blew on her newly painted nails and carefully turned the page in the celebrity gossip magazine with the pad of her pointer finger. Why were all the lies about celebrities boring this week? Or maybe not boring, but pretty tame compared to the crazy last few days she’d had.
Three days since the bathroom party at Drat’s, and she was falling harder for Dustin every second. Right now, she missed him. He was off on some secret mission he wouldn’t tell her about when he left the motel this morning. That man still had way too many secrets.
Her phone buzzed on the bed beside her, and the screen lit up. Her heart jumped into her throat when Werewolf Megadick came up in the text. He’d programmed the name himself when she wasn’t looking and also added a picture of two flies mating, which now popped up every time he texted or called.
Are you in your room?
Carefully, so she didn’t ding her brand new red nails, she typed in, Yes. Come over. I need help. Send.
There was an immediate knock on the door. “Emma, are you okay?” Dustin yelled, sounding frantic.
“Come in,” Emma called.
“The door’s locked!”
“Use your key!”
“Oh, yeah.” The door lock dinged the entry sound, and he shoved the door open, his eyes glowing. He looked around the room like he was searching for danger.
Emma pointed at her butt. “My nails are wet, and I have a wedgie.”
“Are you fucking serious? I thought you were in trouble, and you want me to pick your wedgie?”
She grinned and nodded.
His gaze dipped to her butt where she was only wearing a pair of bikini cut panties with her tank top. Dustin cleared his throat. “It w
ould be my pleasure.”
But when he approached the bed, he flopped onto his belly beside her and pulled the other side of her panties into the wedgie, creating a make-shift thong.
“Dustin,” she grumbled, turning the page of the magazine.
He bounced her butt-cheeks like basketballs. “So jiggly. This is the best ever.” He gently bit one cheek, and then the other, then went back to wiggling her cheeks even faster.
Emma rolled her eyes and laughed.
“I’m so turned on right now it’s ridiculous,” he murmured in a husky voice. “Look at my boner.”
She glanced over her shoulder to where Dustin had rolled onto his side. Indeed, he was pitching quite the tent with his jeans.
“We should fool around before I show you my surprise,” Dustin suggested.
“What surprise?”
“A surprise that will make you want to give me a hundred hand jobs.” He settled over her, his hands and knees on either side of her. “I’m going to take off your clothes now.”
She laughed and said, “Dustin, my nails are wet.”
“Mmm,” he said. “I do like the red. I’ll take care of you then. You just sit there and wiggle around like a tuna.”
“This is not sexy at all.”
Dustin pushed her tank top gently up her back, running his hands along her skin as he went. He eased it off of her, careful of her nails, then leaned down and sucked on the back of her neck.
“I take it back,” she murmured. “This is really sexy.”
He smiled against her skin and nipped her there. He was bitey any time they fooled around, but he had never done it hard enough to break the skin and Turn her. She trusted him now. Trusted him in ways that terrified her.
Dustin lifted off her, and she watched over her shoulder as he took off his shirt. His abs flexed with the movement, and his hair was mussed when his shirt hit the floor. Dustin clenched his jaw once, and his eyes sparked with an intensity that drew a soft gasp from her lips. On his knees, he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down the zipper.
“I want to feel your skin against mine.” He’d said it too soft to hear, but had formed the words well enough for her to read his lips easily. He did that now, naturally. He probably didn’t even realize it, but there had been a huge change in him over the last few days. He automatically turned his face toward her so she could read his lips when he said something he didn’t want the others to hear. He even did it when he spoke up.
Dustin shimmied out of his jeans and gracefully laid on her back, pressing his warm chest against her shoulder blades. There were his clever lips again. She arched back and angled her head to give him more access. His hand went around her throat but stayed gentle.
That man spent some serious time working her into a desperate frenzy. He kissed her neck, back, her hips, and then up to her shoulders on an endless loop until she was begging him to stop the torture and make her come. Feverishly, she rolled her hips against the bed where she could get the barest of friction on her clit if she pushed forward enough. Dustin gripped her hip hard, and she gasped when he lifted her waist off the bed. It had happened so fast she was shocked to find herself up on her knees, his head under her, his face right there between her legs. His hands went to her hips, and he pulled her down, closer. The first brush of his tongue on her clit just about did her in.
“Dustin,” she moaned.
He was good when she begged. Desperation in her voice always got a reaction from him. Teasing done, he pulled her lower and pushed his tongue into her. Her hips jerked. She tossed her head back and cried out. The next stroke, he pushed into her deeper, then sucked on her clit, then pushed in, sucked. He set a rhythm, but she was already halfway there. She rocked against his face, encouraging him, rushing him faster because she was losing ground. Losing it. Losing all thought. Fuck, he was so good at this.
She cried out every time he pushed into her, and right as she was at the peak of pleasure, right as the first pulse of orgasm was about to burst through her, Dustin shoved her upward and disappeared out from under her. Without missing a beat, he entered her from behind, filled her, and buried himself so deeply inside of her, the orgasm happened despite the interruption.
He was slow and methodical, drawing every aftershock out of her as she moaned. She thought he would have to thrust into her for a while to get off, but he gritted out her name two strokes later and bucked hard. Warmth spread inside of her in pulsing jets. He didn’t go erratic, but kept it steady as he pumped his seed into her. Was she coming again? Her aftershocks were so intense it was a possibility. He leaned forward across her back, pressing his chest against her, and she could feel the rattling growl that didn’t quite reach her hearing. And then there was teeth. Teeth, teeth, teeth, almost hard enough to break the skin over her shoulder blade. And a part of her wanted him to do it. A part of her wanted him to claim her and bind them forever in the way shifters chose their mates. A huge piece of her heart already felt like Dustin’s mate even though she was human.
He would do it if she asked. He always gave into her begging. All she had to do was murmur, “Do it,” and he would sink his teeth into her and change the course of their lives forever. He would give her a wolf. A wolf. A wolf? No. That wasn’t the plan. She was going to be a vampire someday. She wanted Dustin, but not a wolf. She wanted to sing. Emma bit her lip hard against the urge to plead with him to claim her.
Dustin released her skin and eased out of her. Warmth flooded between her legs, and with a satisfied sigh, Emma dropped her forehead to the bed. Instinct made her rock back and forth still as her aftershocks pulsed on, lighter and lighter. Sexy Dustin. Sexy wolf. Sexy man. Sexy mate.
His hand was warm on her back as he slid it up her spine. Pulling her hair, he angled her face toward him and kissed her. Drank her more like. Or perhaps she was drinking him. God, she could almost feel his beautiful soul here in the quiet of the room. Quiet. Too quiet.
She messed with her hearing aids but got nothing. Stupid rechargeable batteries needed to be replaced. Gently, Dustin pulled the aids from her ears, one at a time, and dropped them into the charger beside the bed. His face was so beautiful, like an angel, as he pulled her tightly against him. Dustin swallowed hard, frowned down at her lips, his fingers trailing up and down her ribs.
Slowly, he brushed her hair out of her face and lifted his hand into the air. And then he did the most important, most impactful thing a man had ever done for her.
He signed, Emma, I love you.
Her face crumpled immediately, and tears spilled from her eyes. Embarrassed, she buried her face against his chest as her shoulders shook with her crying. He didn’t rush her, or push her. He simply held her close, cupped the back of her head, and rested his cheek on her hair until she could get control of her emotions again.
Finally, finally, Emma eased back and lifted her hand in front of him, and then slowly, so he could understand it, she signed, I love you, too.
Chapter Ten
Dustin paced near the door. He should’ve done it like he planned. Got her flowers and taken her out to eat. Dated her like a human, and then at the end of the night, when he was dropping her off at her motel door, told her he loved her like they did in the three shitty late-night rom-coms he’d forced himself to watch. Emma deserved romance.
Maybe this was okay. Or maybe not. She’d cried after he signed his feelings to her, but he didn’t know what that meant. Human women cried about everything, and he had no idea whether those were happy or sad tears. God, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t make her happy, so why was he even trying?
Emma turned on the shower in the bathroom, and Dustin paced again. He ran his hands through his hair out of a nervous habit and bit back a growl. He hadn’t said that to anyone. Well, technically he still hadn’t said I love you out loud to anyone, but this one counted. He’d built it up in his head so much over the last couple days, from the second he figured out what this devoted feeling was in his gut. Emma was his, and he wanted to mak
e her happy, like she made him happy.
Off-key notes drifted from the bathroom, and he stopped his pacing to listen to her sing. She sounded happy. Maybe Emma didn’t need flowers when he made big statements. Let’s bite her.
“Shut the fuck up, wolf,” he muttered.
Quietly, he padded to the bathroom door so he could hear her better over the running shower. She was singing so softly he couldn’t make out the words—they all slurred together. Her hearing aids were still in the charger. A smile stretched Dustin’s face and felt so good. She’d said it back. He’d been studying American Sign Language relentlessly any hour he spent away from her, but he was only comfortable with the simple alphabet right now. He would learn it all though. It would just take time. And practice. Emma had been having problems with her aids lately. She fiddled with them too much, and they needed to be re-charged all the time. Maybe he should buy her better ones. Were there better ones? He would have to research this.
She was still singing. God, he loved her voice. Because she gave it to him. She would never sing like this if she knew anyone else was in the room, but for him? She couldn’t hear herself, but she was still humming. That must mean something, right? That he made her extra happy? Extra comfortable? Dustin’s grin got so big it made his face ache.
Dustin pressed his shoulder blades against the door and leaned his head back, closed his eyes to memorize the tone of her voice. There was a fluttering sound that was ruining the moment, though. Dustin opened his eyes and glared at the desk against the wall. Emma’s journal was open, and the top page was lifting in the vent breeze.
Dustin was pulled to it like a bug to a light. He’d thought about this journal so much. Obsessed about it, really. He’d wanted to see her thoughts so badly, and here it was, open, calling to him, tempting him. A good man would’ve closed it and let it be, but Dustin was a werewolf, and his moral compass was a little bent, so he murmured, “Oops,” and flipped it open to the middle.