Haze of Heat

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Haze of Heat Page 15

by Jennifer Dellerman


  “Two are new as of yesterday,” he continued with a smile, the maelstrom of need, rage and dominance all gathering like a thunderstorm too volatile to make it real. “Both well trained and easy going. They’ve already taken to their new home without a hitch.”

  “All of your horses are well trained.” Beth spoke up, her voice coated with an invitation Porter had no desire to partake of ever again. Knowing it would be rude not to look at her when she was paying him a compliment, he did so. Grudgingly. And wished he didn’t. There was more than appreciation in her eyes as they all but devoured him. “You’re an excellent...stable master.”

  The pause was deliberate and made the back of his teeth ache where they ground together in aggravation. Evidently the innuendo didn’t go completely unnoticed because the second pinch Rachel inflicted was followed by a cruel twisting of his flesh.

  He stifled a wince because, yep, that one was going to leave a bruise. Closing his hand over hers before she could pull it back, he twined their fingers and shifted both of their hands to her thigh. Along with keeping his flesh safe from further attack, the skin-to-skin contact placated both his raging libido and his jaguar.

  At least for the moment.

  “We have flan for dessert if anyone’s interested,” Annie offered as she and Katie began clearing away their dishes.

  “I’d love some, Annie. Thanks.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Porter saw Gwen’s brows arch nearly to her hairline. Yes, shifters ate more than the average bear. They needed a lot of fuel to compensate for their faster metabolism and active lifestyle. Yet the amount of food Porter had all but licked from his plate would have fed a family of six. He hadn’t planned to take so much, but when he’d walked in and seen Rachel leaning over the table, talking earnestly to Daniels, his cat had lunged at its tether, ready to maul the unknown male.

  Between the simmering rage at the sight of Daniels daring to speak to his woman and the vicious lust of the mating heat pounding through his veins, Porter’d had to make a choice. And since he couldn’t fight or fuck, he’d have to eat. A lot.

  “Will you take us to the cave?” Alex queried, his eyes aglow with excitement. “I read about it online. It’s awesome you have your own pirate cave.”

  Porter leaned back in his chair, his lips twisting with real amusement for the first time since sitting down. He adored kids. Energy, innocence, and mischief all entangled in a thirst to know, see, and explore.

  “Well.” Porter paused and rubbed his mouth as if considering the idea. “I usually take riders along the road. If we go into the reserve, where the cave is located, we have to have a park ranger with us.” He directed the latter at Gwen.

  “You’re a ranger?” Alex asked, his eyes huge.

  Gwen grinned. “Yep. And Porter’s right. If you want to go into the reserve, you must have a trained escort. As for seeing the cave, it’s a long walk. The tunnel goes underground about a mile before it opens up. It’s not for anyone who’s claustrophobic, scared of the dark, or easily tired. Plus you have to wear a hard hat and have one of your parents with you at all times.”

  Alex looked imploringly up at his father, all but bouncing in his chair. “Dad?”

  The older Johnston male, Ross, looked at Porter. “What about the other riders?”

  Porter shrugged. “Either I or Curtis can continue the ride for those who don’t want to explore.”

  “Maybe if I were twenty years younger,” Connie commented from the far end of the table. “But we’re heading home tomorrow.”

  “And we’re leaving for Orlando.” Victor, the male half of the newlyweds beamed at his bride. “We’re going to Disney World.”

  “I’d love to see the cave,” Beth’s dark-haired girlfriend, Christa, and one who’d never come to the B&B before, chimed in. “But I’m not into horseback riding like Beth.”

  “That’s because you’ve never been on a horse,” Beth commented as Annie placed a flan in front of her.

  “True. But they scare me. They’re so big,” was Christa’s unabashed comeback.

  “Until a few days ago, I’d never been on a horse either,” Rachel admitted to Christa. “But Porter showed me around the barn and let me feed the horses carrots to calm my nerves. Then he convinced me to get on Daisy, and I’m glad he did. She’s sweet. It was a little scary at first, but once I got the hang of it, I had fun.”

  “It takes courage to do that which intimidates you.” Daniels adjusted his glasses and nodded approvingly at Rachel. “No matter what it is.”

  Porter shoveled in another mouthful of flan lest he snarl at the other man. Rachel whacked her knee into his, telling him he’d not been successful. Slanting his eyes to the side, he saw the corners of her lips tip down and had an urge to tug her close and kiss the frown off her mouth.

  “Please,” Beth interjected, her eyes going from Porter’s fork-lifting left hand to the angle of his right arm. Porter didn’t give a shit that she could probably tell he was touching Rachel. Beth was in the past. He’d broken up with her. Yeah, he’d screwed up once after the breakup and slept with her, but hey, it was sex. What healthy, virile, unattached male turned down sex?

  “Daisy’s so tame she’d accept a toddler. Which is what she was trained for anyway.” Beth’s thinly veiled barb made more than one person at the table pause. It also pissed an individual off who had no qualms about retaliation. The piece of flan on top of Beth’s fork suddenly flew through the air and smacked her in the middle of her own forehead, and stuck, as if some unseen finger had flicked it off the utensil and held it against her skin.

  “What the—”

  “Hey.”

  Melinda jumped from her chair and glared around and over expressions ranging from stunned to barely restrained laughter. “The air conditioner must have kicked on.”

  As Melinda soothed a distraught and caramel – and custard-coated Beth, Gwen snickered under her breath. “Seems Cort doesn’t like your ex either, Porter. Shall I say I told you so now or later?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Roughly four hours later, Porter clambered up the backside of the barn from his second-story porch with the confident strength and grace of his feline half. On the gently sloping roof he stretched out, his gaze aimed at the light in Rachel’s room. With the blinds in the living room drawn against the night, he couldn’t see in, but he could keep a vigil until it was his turn for the evening watch.

  With the escalating threat to Rachel’s safety wrought by the flowers, not to mention the odd presence of Trevor Daniels and the upcoming arrival of Rand Hensen, the Felix males were on high alert.

  None more so than Porter. While he was thankful for his family’s support, because that’s what pack did for each other, Porter was having a difficult time trusting his mate’s life with anyone other than himself.

  Part of it, he knew, was the instability of his emotions. Maybe if he’d claimed Rachel, embedded his mark on her creamy flesh so that she, and everyone who saw her, knew exactly who she belonged to, the violent sexual hunger of the mating heat wouldn’t be playing tug-of-war with his senses.

  He felt no guilt at lying to Rachel about the mating heat, because he truly hadn’t. He’d only repeated what she told him to tell her. That wasn’t lying. Besides, she wasn’t ready. Hell, he was barely ready himself, but that didn’t mean he wanted to waste any time. And if either Daniels or Hensen was her asshole stalker, time was running out. Once the threat was over, she’d want to go home. Leave him.

  Never!

  The jaguar let out a short, caustic roar that no human throat could produce. It didn’t want to be here, high on the top of the barn, alone, staring across a dark expanse to the room where its mate rested. It wanted to be with her, next to her, holding her. Touching her.

  Porter’s claws shot out to scrape across the roof, his fangs bursti
ng forth in tormented rage. He could still feel her under him, still taste the wild heat of her mouth, her soft silky skin, the tight, wet clasp of her body.

  If she chose to leave, he would simply follow. They belonged together. There was no going back.

  Another roar, this one quieter, sullen and cranky as the cat paced, moping at the enforced separation.

  “Would you shut it already?” A demand from another alpha shifter that had Porter swinging glowing cat eyes over the roof edge.

  “Fuck off,” he said in an almost soundless whisper he knew Santos would hear.

  His brother’s lips thinned in irritation. “Obviously I need to put you down again.”

  Porter bristled at the insult. “Again? You never did it a first time.”

  “Then come on down.” Santos dropped his chin in feral invitation. “And we’ll see who’s right.”

  Contemplating the benefit of a fierce fight, Porter tossed it aside immediately. Santos was on first watch, Porter second, followed by Rome and then Andreas. Getting into a bloody battle might take the edge off his visceral need, but it would also remove two powerful shifters from their main directive: to watch and protect. He wouldn’t betray Rachel that way. She was his heart, and if anything happened to her because he allowed his temper to get the best of him, he’d never, ever forgive himself.

  It took a few minutes, but Porter finally reeled himself back under control. Opening eyes now nearly identical to those judging him from more than twenty feet below, he shook his head. “Nah. Ria would suck the blood from my body if I put a scratch on you and frankly, she’s more terrifying than you could ever be.”

  Santos waited a moment before replying, his sharp gaze not missing a damn thing. “Only when she’s riled.” His head cocked in an angle that was purely feline. “It’s a bitch, the mating heat. It scrambles your brain, turns you into a possessive asshole, makes mincemeat out of your emotions and flips your world upside down. But it’s also the most incredible ride of your life.” Santos pivoted on his heel. “Since you’ve come out early, I’m going to shift, patrol the front for a while.”

  Porter watched his brother’s back until he disappeared around the side of the house, mulling over words that described what Porter was feeling to a tee. He was about to roll over onto his back when the light went out in Rachel’s room.

  Would she fall asleep the second her head hit the pillow or would she toss and turn, her body aching with a need he longed to fulfill? Was she, even now, touching herself? Trailing her fingers over her breasts, pinching those pink nipples he’d tasted? Grazing over the long, sleek lines of her tummy in a sensual journey to the liquid heat between her thighs?

  The tortuous images made his cock go rock-hard, a raspy groan of need that was cut off by a harsh curse. Because the sexy, beautiful, and clearly senseless woman was currently slipping out the back door of the house.

  Every muscle strained with tension as he watched her walk to the garden. Her pace was slow, almost carefree, as she stopped to sniff some flowers here, some there. But she didn’t stay. Oh, no. Not his independent and willful mate. She left the path and started across the lawn.

  To him.

  He growled low in his throat, supremely pissed she left the protection of the house. But he also watched and waited, because he wanted. Desperately. When she stopped and lifted her face to the stars, the ache seeped into his very bones. She was so fucking beautiful it hurt to look at her and not touch her. Not be right by her side.

  Preternaturally still, he didn’t even breathe when she paused once again just outside the gate of the corral. Then she looked up, her eyes finding him without hesitation. “Permission to come inside?”

  Despite the wanting, he was infuriated at her casual disregard of her own safety. He jerked his head in agreement, silently watching as she passed through the gate and sauntered to the back of the barn, her hips swaying in the pale green skirt that reached to her knees. Quickly rising to his haunches, he was across and leaping from the roof to land on the ground two stories below just as she turned the corner.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Fear, anger, and lust sharpened his tone into a blade.

  “I wanted to see you.” Unfazed by the power leaking from his control, her reply was calm, her chin lifted.

  He drew in a deep breath, about to snap an imperious retort detailing how stupid she’d been to venture out into the night, alone and defenseless, except the sweet scent of feminine arousal filled his lungs, shredding any argument into so much confetti.

  His mate needed him.

  Wordless, he pressed her back against the barn, his mouth on hers, nipping her top lip so that she opened in a gasp of surprise, his tongue darting in without apology to taste and take. One hand on the back of her head, his other under her jaw, he delved deep, drowning in her addictive flavor. Mating her tongue with his, she met his passion with her own fiery ardor, in a brazen kiss that held nothing back.

  Tumbling headlong, his nerves smoking from the intense heat threatening to burn him alive, he pulled back a fraction to stare down into green eyes dark with the same hunger that inflamed him.

  On a groan, he pressed his face into her neck, his tongue a slick glide over her rapidly beating pulse. His gums burned. The instinctive drive to sink his fangs in the sensitive hollow where her shoulder sloped to her neck and mark her, claim her, was a vicious battle to overcome.

  Because she wasn’t ready.

  The reminder stung. But for right now, they had this.

  Ducking his hands under her shirt, he cradled her breasts. Her nipples were already pebbled beneath his caressing thumbs. The hitch in her breath, smothered against his lips, caused his cock to strain even harder against the front of his jeans, where a pair of smaller hands trembled, tugging at the button fly as if impatient to hold him. Then he was springing free, only to be imprisoned by her silken fingers, squeezing gently as she stroked the rigid length of his arousal. Sensual strokes that had his body tensing, the lust building stronger and hotter.

  “Impatient much?” He tried to joke, but his throat was too thick with blinding want.

  “I need you.” Her blunt honesty was surely going to be the death of him.

  Pushed to the edge, he shoved a hand in her hair and pulled her head back to take her mouth in a possessive brand, his tongue stabbing deep. With the other, he shoved her skirt high, tucked the hem into the waistband, and arrowed past the top of her panties to cup silken flesh in a boldness that stripped any pretense of finesse to shreds.

  “So wet.” His body shuddered as the intoxicating musk of feminine arousal grew stronger, lusher. A single finger outlined the delicate seam of her sex before he parted her soaking folds, rimming the swollen entrance to her body. “So beautifully ready.”

  She shifted, widening her stance, her hips undulating under his teasing touch. The hands on his cock become more urgent. “What are you waiting for?”

  What was he waiting for? Rachel was ready and willing and he was about to explode. But he wanted her as wild and crazed as he was. Grasping her wrists, he tugged them from his shaft and pressed them over her head, against the barn wall. “Leave them.”

  Her chest heaving, Rachel crossed her arms, but otherwise kept them where he placed them. “What are you going to do?”

  The wisp of uncertainty made him kiss her again, a succulent kiss, his teeth closing over her lower lip in a languid release. The drugging scent of her arousal was too rich, too heady to pass up. “Just a quick taste.”

  A harsh sound. “You do that and it’ll all be over.”

  He found something to grin about. “You think I can’t make you come twice? Again?” Because she had that morning. And watching her sink into pleasure had been a glorious sight to behold.

  “I don’t know if I can handle two more.”

 
A stroke to his ego. “You can.” He sank to his knees, pushing her legs further apart. Her abdomen quivered where he pressed his lips, slipping lower to the top edge of her panties.

  Flicking out a single claw, he carefully cut the sides of the pretty yellow bikini bottoms and tugged them off.

  “Porter!”

  “Shhh.” He chuckled. “I’ll buy you more.” He parted her juicy folds with his thumbs, impatient for a lick of his favorite dessert.

  “That doesn’t mean it’s okay to...oh...”

  Her reprimand was lost as he dove in, licking her essence in long, hungry strokes. He slipped his tongue inside, flicking and thrusting against tiny inner muscles that grasped at the slick invasion. “Taste so good, amada. Muy dulce.”

  Her soft moan drove him wild and his caresses grew more urgent, wanting to pleasure her, treasure her. Wanting everything she had to give, and then more. Peeking up the length of her body, he wrapped his lips around her swollen clit, suckling the sensitive nub, savoring her unguarded cries, the rocking of her hips. Her hands were still held over her head, her eyes closed, back arched in ecstasy, breasts thrust forward.

  He loved how she responded to his touch. She was the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen in his life. He had to have her. Now.

  Fumbling in his back pocket, he managed to retrieve and don a condom with hands shaking with need too strong to ignore. His jeans and boxes made it no farther than the tops of his thighs before he was slipping between her legs. Cupping her bottom with both hands, he lifted her effortlessly, aligning them groin to groin. Her legs naturally wound around his waist, her arms, his neck.

  “I’ve never had sex outside before.”

  “Yeah?” His voice was fractured, thick, and primitive. Control was dwindling fast. “Well, get ready for a wild ride.”

  He slipped through silky folds, wetting his length, making them both crazy with the erotic friction. Hot cream bathed his throbbing cock so that when the thick crest slotted at the threshold of her sex, he pushed several inches inside before the slick grip of tender muscles made him pause.

 

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