Broderick didn’t take his gaze from her. “Still not what I mean. It’s not just a building to you. You fill it up, like my brothers fill up our house, but in a much better way.”
Joanne shrugged as she leaned to plug in a cable. “Yeah, thanks,” she said.
She straightened to find Broderick right against her back. Joanne turned around awkwardly, pinned between the edge of a table and him. She swallowed. “Yeah,” she repeated.
“It’s soft here,” Broderick said, his voice anything but that. “Pretty. Like you.”
He didn’t touch her. He didn’t have to. Broderick kept her in place simply looking at her. Joanne could have ducked past him, but her breath hitched, and she stayed put.
Pretty. Like you. Not many people were around to call Joanne pretty. She’d been working with IT guys a long time, and while most were just as interested in women as non-computer-geeks, they also weren’t forthcoming with the compliments. They were more likely to praise a string of Joanne’s code than tell her she looked nice. The last guy she’d dated had been into drawing his own X-rated Manga, starring women whose breasts were so impossibly large they’d never have been able to walk in real life. He’d asked Joanne to pose for him, thinking she’d be flattered.
“Pretty,” Joanne said, her voice strangled.
Broderick’s face softened. When he did that, when his bad-ass facade fell away, he was the most absolutely gorgeous man who walked the planet.
No, not a man, a Shifter—who’d taken in her sister’s mate to nurse him back to health against his better judgment, and who called her pretty.
“Yeah,” he said.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” Joanne let her voice become as gentle as his. “I know you must be freaked out about what happened to you.”
A bit of his ferocity returned. “You think?”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Joanne said. “If you didn’t see or hear them, or even scent them, I bet they took you out from a long way off—maybe with a tranq rifle with a scope.”
Broderick’s hands balled. “Doesn’t matter. I’m a sorry excuse for a tracker if I didn’t realize someone had staked out the Guardian’s house. Sean was just lucky they shot the wrong guy.”
“Well, Sean should have noticed. Or Dylan—Dylan’s supposed to be the smartest and scariest of all the Shifters, isn’t he? Where was he?”
Broderick’s fingers unclenched slightly. “You have a point. But it was more than that.” A shiver went through him before he could stop it. “Waking up not knowing where I was, listening to people trying to decide what to do with me, it was like … like being rounded up again. Only this time, it was me that was getting shot.”
“Shot …” Joanne put her hands on his arms, not liking his grim look. “She missed, thank God.”
“They didn’t miss my dad. Shot dead, right in front of his sons, right in front of his mate. My mother never got over it.” Broderick’s eyes took on a hunted look, the gray going light again. “She was never the same, though it took twenty years for her to die. She went last spring, right before I met you.”
“I know.” Joanne’s heart felt like a solid lump. “Your aunt told me …” Broderick had never talked about his mother, but Aunt Cora had told Joanne the story, saying she needed to know.
Broderick hadn’t ever once mentioned his mother, but not because he didn’t love and miss her, Joanne understood. Because he couldn’t. This was a pain he kept buried, in case it rose up and consumed him.
“I know,” Joanne repeated softly.
“Damn it.” Broderick’s voice was a whisper. He touched her face. “Jo-Jo …”
The pet name was what did it. Joanne left her rigid stance and came at him, burying her face in his chest as she grabbed handfuls of his shirt.
Broderick smelled clean, in spite of him tearing up the hacker’s basement, though he did smell of drywall dust as well.
His arms went around her, and he let out a long, shuddering breath, as though every pain inside him came out with it.
Joanne dug her hands into his T-shirt and lifted her face to his. He didn’t resist at all when she rose and pressed a kiss to his mouth.
Broderick made a low sound in his throat. His arms tightened around her, his lips unmoving for a moment. Then he met her kiss with his own, parting her mouth, sweeping his tongue inside, sealing them together.
The kiss went on for some time, heat transferring from Broderick to Joanne. She’d been cold, she realized, but now she tingled down every limb.
Broderick broke the kiss. He didn’t let go of her, and she felt the Celtic knot disc pressing into her back. “No,” he said. “I can’t …”
“Can’t kiss me?” Joanne let go of his shirt to trace his lips. “You’re doing fine.”
“There’s this thing called mating frenzy.” His voice was low, fierce. “Ever heard of it?”
“Yes.” Her heart beat faster. “I’ve hung around Shiftertown a while.”
“If you don’t let go of me, if you don’t run the hell away, I won’t care about helping with your damn computers. Screw the Guardian, the sword, the stupid medallion, the hacker. I just want you.”
Joanne couldn’t move, as though a force other than the table behind her kept her in place. Her body thrummed with his nearness, the heat of him through his clothes, the hardness that pushed at her from the other side of his jeans.
Joanne slid her body up his, cupped his neck with one hand, and pressed a long and passionate kiss to his lips.
***
Goddess, no, no, don’t do this to me. Broderick had been heating up since he walked into the place, and helping her carry all this shit hadn’t calmed him down.
Joanne’s lips were silken against his mouth, her breath like an afternoon breeze. Her kiss was as quiet as the house, a noiseless place, the hush unfamiliar. He was used to chaos, raucous laughter, yelling, arguing. This house was like a calm in the sea that raged around him.
Damn it.
Broderick laced one arm around Joanne and jerked her close. His mouth opened hers, lips sliding, tasting her with his tongue.
Joanne reacted by pulling herself harder against him, her abdomen brushing the ridge of his cock. She was needy, seeking.
They hadn’t had sex together yet—Broderick had held himself from her, knowing mating frenzy could come upon him, that he wouldn’t stop himself spilling his seed, wanting to put a cub inside her. Polite human men and even Shifters nowadays used condoms when they had a woman. Screw that. Sex was for making cubs—and for being bare inside beautiful Joanne.
Joanne wrapped one leg around his thigh. Broderick skimmed his hands up her shirt, finding the hooks of her bra, wanting her unclothed, now.
He was still holding the medallion. Broderick slapped it to the table behind Joanne with a ringing sound. For the first time since he’d found the damned thing it was out of his hand.
Left him free to skim Joanne’s shirt upward, to find her warm, bare flesh. Joanne smiled at him when he lifted the shirt off over her head, the bra following. Her eyes were a velvet brown, so dark he felt himself falling into them.
No, he was just falling, his passion making him clumsy. Joanne laughed as they ended up on the floor, her on top of him.
Broderick cushioned her fall. A deep rubber pad covered the tile just behind him—anti-static, Joanne had explained. Broderick rolled her over onto it, coming up on his hands to brace himself above her.
“Mating frenzy means I stay with you for days if I have to,” Broderick said, his voice losing clarity. “Weeks even. Until you’re heavy with my cub. If you don’t want that, knee me in the balls and tell me to get out.”
Joanne didn’t appear to hear him. Broderick had a buzzing in his ears, like a frequency trying to drown out sounds. Maybe Joanne heard it too, because she gave him a languid look and pulled him down to her.
Her breasts were a soft place to land. To hell with it. Tiger was right—Joanne was his mate.
Broderick brushed k
isses to her face, her lips, her chin. He worked his way down her throat, feathering kisses as he went. At her breasts, he paused to admire them, firm and round, her nipples dark. He knew her breasts embarrassed her—too large, she said. People had made fun of her.
She had to be kidding. Those people, whoever they’d been, were assholes. Joanne’s plump, full breasts beckoned his hands, his mouth, and Broderick gave in.
He inhaled her good scent, licked the tip of her nipple, drew it between his teeth. Joanne made a soft noise and arched her back, driving into his mouth.
Broderick enjoyed her taste, the glide of her nipple against his tongue, the contrast of the hardening tip with the soft of the areola. Her hands moved in his hair, then down his back, Joanne’s fingers plucking at his shirt.
Broderick raised up enough to slide out of the shirt and dump it beside him. Better now that they were skin to skin.
He kissed her lips again, while she ran her fingertips down his bare back.
“Well,” she asked, breathless. “What now?”
Broderick could only growl. His vision changed to his wolf one, where he saw light and shadow differently, in grays and whites. He forced himself to remain human.
“Now is me wanting you,” Broderick said, his voice guttural. “Last chance, sweetheart.”
Joanne lifted herself and bit his earlobe.
The world went entirely gray. Broderick felt himself fumbling open his belt, his jeans, kicking the clothes out of the way. He grabbed her jeans and ripped them open, getting rid of them and her underwear. She was still wearing her sneakers, but not for long. They made splatting sounds as they landed somewhere in the sea of tile.
Broderick made himself slow down. Joanne had not been with a Shifter before, and Shifters were big. Frenzy could make them forget to be gentle.
Joanne’s relaxed smile welcomed him. Her eyes were soft, her touch light on his roasting skin.
“I can’t stop,” Broderick whispered. “I won’t be able to go slowly.”
Joanne ran her foot, still in a sock, down his calf. “I’m pretty tough.”
“Not for this, you’re not. But too late.”
Broderick knew he couldn’t make himself rise and walk away. The hum in his ears increased, like music pounding through his brain.
He realized as he slid his hand between Joanne’s legs, massaging there, that what he heard was the damned medallion.
Chapter Ten
Stupid Fae sword magic crap.
The piece of metal was vibrating, singing, urging him on. As though Broderick needed a piece of a sword to tell him he wanted Joanne.
Joanne was ready for him. Broderick’s fingers slid easily into her heat, finding her hot and open. He withdrew his touch, positioned his aching hardness at her opening, and slid inside. The Celtic knot on the table, a symbol of love and joining, made a silver ting sound, as though something had been completed.
Something had completed all right. Broderick sucked in a breath, dazzled. The joy of being inside Joanne flooded all his senses. She was hot, tight, welcoming him. Joanne nibbled his jaw as her arms went around him, fingers stroking down his back.
“You feel good,” she said, eyes widening. Her hips moved. “Damn good.”
She’d thought it would hurt. Broderick saw that. Joanne was astonished it didn’t, and very pleased.
“You feel good too, sweetheart,” Broderick said, the words becoming a growl. “My Joanne. Mate.” He’d never thought he’d say it out loud to her, but it this was right, real.
Broderick held his breath and slid further inside her. Joanne groaned as she opened for him, but she wanted him, encouraging with her arms around him.
She was beauty itself, the lines of her face delicate even in the glaring light she’d flipped on over the computers. Joanne’s dark curls fanned out over the darker pad, her mouth twisting as she felt him.
Broderick slowly withdrew, easing most of the way out of her, before he slid all the way back inside. Joanne’s head rocked back, her Aahhh of pleasure sounding deep in her throat.
Broderick leaned to her, his face close to hers. “I’ve waited a long time for you.” He inhaled her scent. “I’m not letting you go. Hang on to me.”
Joanne gave a short laugh that ended in a growl. Her hands were strong on his back, her legs entwining his. “As long as it takes.”
With her squeezing him like that, it wouldn’t be long. “I’ll love you the rest of my life. Never going to stop.”
Joanne went suddenly quiet, either because she didn’t know how to respond or because she was lost in a place of feeling, he didn’t know. Nothing existed now but sensation, erotic and amazing.
Broderick groaned with it. Joanne was one with him, the two of them moving together. No resistance, confusion, fear, anger. Only incredible feeling, heat, need, hunger.
No silence, either. Broderick and Joanne let their voices ring out, no one to hear them in this house Joanne had made her home.
Broderick lost all track of time, the urgency of what he’d come here to do—his entire life. There was nothing but him and Joanne, joined. Broderick ached where they met, the friction maddening him, but he didn’t stop. No reason to stop.
Broderick sped his thrusts, and the medallion kept on singing, the entire table and all the crystals in the computers ringing with it. Broderick couldn’t tell if Joanne heard it or not—she was lost in her place of joy, her body winding up for release.
Joanne came apart under him, suddenly, beautifully, her head dropping to one side, eyes closing tightly. She cried out her passion, lifting against Broderick as he thrust.
Broderick couldn’t see very well anymore, his vision becoming wolf while his body stayed human. He kept loving Joanne, couldn’t get enough of her. His bunched fists on the floor kept him from crushing her, his body tight as he drove into her again and again. Joanne wound down into happy moans beneath him, then rose on another wave, coming apart one more time.
After she came the third time, Joanne opened her eyes and laughed. “Best day ever.”
Broderick’s vision had gone entirely gray. He heard only the music of the medallion, felt Joanne’s heat around him. His eyes cleared enough to see her lovely face, her beautiful brown gaze.
Broderick groaned, heartfelt, his head rocking back as he lost his seed inside his mate. Joanne made a hum of pleasure, wrapped her arms around him, and drew him down to her warm, inviting body.
***
Joanne woke. She was on the floor, the window that gave out onto her back yard dark. The overhead light was on, glaring into her eyes.
She tried to move but couldn’t. That was because a large, hard-bodied Shifter was right on top of her. Still inside her too. And sound asleep.
Broderick’s head lay on her shoulder, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling with an even breath.
Joanne realized she’d never seen his face this calm, this relaxed. Broderick was ever on edge, the protector of his family, of those he loved—the protector of all under his care, actually, no matter how crazy they drove him. Broderick had been guarding his family a long time.
His buzzed hair was starting to grow out, becoming short dark tangles against his head. Joanne resisted smoothing them, not wanting to wake him. She’d cradle Broderick in her arms and let him rest.
Joanne didn’t mean to sleep again, but woke to find a blanket from her bed covering her, Broderick on his feet and moving around the computers. He hadn’t bothered to dress, and for a moment, Joanne enjoyed watching his tall, nude body as he poked at buttons and bent to examine things.
Joanne sat up and wrapped her arms around her blanketed knees. “You know what you’re doing?”
“No.” Broderick didn’t turn around. He’d taken the medallion from the table and cupped it in his hand again. “It’s a bunch of plastic junk to me.” He ran his fingers over the plain edge of a CPU. “No artistry.”
Joanne had never thought of Broderick and artistry in the same context, but he had a po
int. Computers were made to be sleek and functional. The beauty was inside, both in the hardware design and the programming.
Joanne untangled herself from the blanket and climbed to her feet, groaning a little as she unfolded. Her session with Broderick had left her stiff, and sleeping on the floor hadn’t helped. She wrapped the blanket around her like a sari and joined him at the table.
To be honest, the pile of computers was a sea of plastic junk to her at the moment as well. She started connecting cables, sliding conductors into slots, switching on routers.
Broderick proved to be a good help. He was strong enough to shove things around and stack them how Joanne wanted them, and put the right plugs into the right places. She tried not to extrapolate on how good he was about pushing tabs into slots, but she couldn’t help it.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked, eyes narrowing.
Joanne reached up on tiptoe and kissed the corner of his mouth. Broderick’s eyes lost their sharpness, and they spent a long moment in a hot, after-loving kiss.
When Joanne finally settled down on a chair in front of a laptop, Broderick paused to pull on his jeans. A little disappointing, but still he looked great in nothing but low-slung jeans and no shirt. His big hands moved as he helped her adjust the boxes on the table so she had room to work. Broderick still held the medallion, which he fidgeted with as she typed.
His body and what they’d just done was distracting, but Joanne made herself focus. She plowed through every bit of data left on the drives then traced paths to where the hacker might have moved stuff offsite. Everything left a path, no matter how hard a person tried to erase their code. A casual computer user wouldn’t be able to find a trace or even be aware they could look for it, but a good programmer who could hack her way into forbidden places would know what to do.
“She was definitely trying to access the Guardian Network,” Joanne announced after a time. It was coming on midnight. Her stomach growled, but as usual, Joanne couldn’t be bothered with trivial matters like food when she was close to a breakthrough. “If I could get into the network myself, I could possibly figure out what she’s after.”
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