My Plan B (Middlemarch Shifters Book 11)

by Shelley Munro

  “You had condoms,” she said, and her voice held accusation.

  “I do,” he said as he rearranged her body and parted her legs. He fitted himself to her and pushed inside, taking it slow and easy when she wasn’t sure what to expect.

  “Why did you tell me to bring my packet?”

  He met her gaze and pulled back, his eyes glowing with that weird light yet again. It seemed to appear whenever he became aroused. “Because I didn’t want to run out.” He pushed deep this time, and although it wasn’t painful, her body struggled to adjust to him.

  He didn’t want to run out of condoms? How long was he intending to keep her in this room? He had said they would meet for breakfast. Yes, he had said that.

  “You feel like silk around me. So much better than my imagination.”

  He pulled back and plunged home. Heat sizzled to life in her, and she slipped her hand between their straining bodies. She never came like this, not without additional stimulation, and she wasn’t about to miss out because of his lack of knowledge of her body.

  “Good girl,” he said, surprising her. “Take what you want.”

  He increased the speed of his thrusts, his features hard and a little scary. He kissed her lips, her neck and sucked hard. The shot of pain did it for her. She gasped and rubbed her clit, the orgasm rolling through her again in a powerful wave. Her pussy rippled around his length and he sucked another mark, on her breast this time. He stroked harder. Faster. Faster. Faster. Without warning, he stilled, a groan rippling from his throat—a hoarse sound of enjoyment.

  What seemed like a long time later, he pulled out and removed the condom.

  He drew back the covers, lifted her effortlessly and joined her in the bed. He switched off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness before curling his body around hers. She thought about their lovemaking, and it had been lovemaking because it was a step above normal sex. The man had done it for her.

  Twice. Way to end her drought.

  Megan dozed off, satisfied and relaxed after the stupendous sex. She woke what must’ve been hours later because the room was much lighter. Jacey nuzzled her neck, pressing her back to his chest.

  “Lift your leg,” he murmured and adjusted her position to his satisfaction. His hand slipped between her legs, teased her flesh and heat punched her. He moved his hand, and she moaned in disappointment.

  “Jacey.”

  “Shush, sweet pea. Don’t move.” He shifted his hips, and she felt the prod of his cock. With his hand, he maneuvered into position and seconds later, he filled her aching pussy. In this position she couldn’t move, couldn’t reposition but he did all the work with his cock and his talented fingers. This climax was slow building, going up, up, up until she thought she might scream her frustration. He slid deep, rocking his hips and alternatively flicking and teasing her clit with a slow pass of his thumb. He kissed her neck, suction coming into play. The slight prick of a sharp tooth sent her into orbit.

  Megan groaned and let him move her limp body into another position. On her hands and knees, he thrust into her from behind, his cock surging deep and hard. Megan groaned a second time, the tiny spasm fluttering to life again.

  The growl coming from Jacey didn’t even seem strange because she wanted to growl and roar with the pleasure of this joining too. He collapsed against her back and she bore his weight without complaint.

  “Each time is better,” he murmured against her ear.

  And she had to agree. “Yes.”

  He pressed a kiss to her neck and pulled free. She heard the snap of latex as she crawled beneath the covers again. Good grief. She hadn’t even registered the need for a condom, which told her everything. This man had sneaked beneath her defenses without even breaking a sweat. Yes, they’d argued, had a disagreement or whatever the classification for what they had was. Was this make-up sex? She’d have to think about it later once she was alone.

  Jacey cuddled in beside her and the last thing she remembered was thinking about how nice and cozy it was with two people in the bed.

  Chapter Eight

  London studied the kitchen clock and watched it click over to seven thirty. She tied an apron around her waist and pondered a diet for all of two seconds. Nah. Gerard loved her curvy frame. “Maybe I’ll start breakfast. Scrambled eggs and bacon?”

  Henry sipped his black coffee, gaze on the clock. “Interesting.”

  “Isn’t it?” Gerard agreed, closing one pale green eye in a wink.

  “Don’t tease Jacey,” London ordered.

  Henry and Gerard exchanged a glance, and London didn’t have to be a mind reader to know where their thoughts headed.

  “You’ll embarrass Megan. She might do a runner.”

  “English, you mortified her enough last night with your condom questions.”

  A sliver of guilt pierced London. She bit her lip as she reached for a carton of eggs. “I know. I couldn’t help it. Pop didn’t react though, apart from his eyes. When he’s emotional, they shift a little wolfish. Yours don’t. Not that I’ve noticed,” she said over her shoulder to Henry.

  With efficient moves, she cracked a dozen eggs into a bowl. She added milk, salt and pepper and whisked them together.

  “Megan will need clothes, otherwise she’ll be late for the game. I think she’ll fit the clothes hanging in our wardrobe, the ones at the far end. Gerard, can you grab a couple of matching outfits and deliver them to Jacey’s suite.”

  Henry slid off his stool at the breakfast counter. “I’ll give them a wake-up call.”

  Geoffrey rose from his basket to follow him.

  “Aw.” Gerard sounded like a small boy. “I wanted to wake them. Don’t do it until I get there with the clothes.”

  The two men and Geoffrey hastened from the kitchen.

  Jenny’s clothes—ones she hadn’t had the heart to throw away, not that she’d mentioned it to Henry. It would be good for someone to get use out of them. London put the bacon under the grill and pulled out the bread to make toast, all while keeping an eye on the eggs she’d started to cook.

  Henry and Gerard arrived back in the kitchen together, their mischievous expressions making her groan. “You teased them.”

  “Couldn’t let the opportunity pass,” Henry confirmed in a gruff voice.

  Gerard’s eyes danced with humor. “Geoffrey pushed through the door and darted into the suite. We had to get him.”

  “What happened?” Her curiosity got the better of London.

  “Megan opened the door, wearing Jacey’s shirt. Jacey was in the shower. There were clothes all over the floor.” Henry’s expression slid close to a smile, closer than London had seen in months.

  “Why is that funny?”

  “Jacey used to lecture us about everything having a place, and it wasn’t the floor. We had to pick up clothes and things, or we’d end up chopping wood or doing some other chore,” Gerard explained. “I’ve a good mind to get our ax and present it to him when he shows his face.”

  “Did you embarrass Megan?”

  “No,” Gerard said.

  “Yes,” Henry countered. “Although she was very polite and thanked us for the clothes. She goes bright red—the same color she went last night.”

  Both men sniggered and Geoffrey barked.

  “You two are behaving like teenagers,” London chided. “Can one of you get the plates and set the table? We’ll need another pot of coffee too.” She scooped up four slices of toast and popped four more into the toaster.

  Geoffrey barked, and London turned to see Jacey lead Megan into the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry we’re late. London, thank you for cooking. I’ll take your next turn,” Jacey said.

  London clapped her hands together. “Megan, you look great. That red suits you.”

  “Thanks,” Megan murmured, and she had trouble meeting any of their gazes.

  London noticed the bruises—good, old-fashioned hickeys on her neck. “I have a scarf that will go with your outfit. I’ll get i
t for you before you leave for the Sevens tournament.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jacey ushered Megan to the table and into the seat next to his usual position. Henry organized the new pot of coffee while Gerard hustled to set the table.

  “We weren’t late to breakfast, Pop,” London said as she placed a platter of eggs and bacon on the middle of the table. Oh, she was terrible. Just as bad as Gerard and Henry.

  Henry and Gerard sniggered again, and London rolled her eyes. Juveniles. Although they were right about one thing—Megan turned a delightful shade of red.

  “Big mosquitoes in your room last night, Jacey.” Gerard’s lips quivered. “Do we need to call a pest control company?”

  “Enough,” Jacey barked, his patience with their teasing at an end. “Let us eat our breakfast in peace. Megan will be staying tonight.”

  Megan winced and finally looked up from the piece of toast Jacey had foisted on her. “Oh, but—”

  “You will stay here.” Jacey covered her hand with his to snare her attention. “Please, I want you to stay here.”

  London felt as if she were in the middle of a rom-com movie and wanted to sigh. Jacey wanted Megan. That much was obvious to her now that she knew more about shifters. Megan wanted Jacey too, but she was fighting the pull between them. “Coffee, Megan? Jacey?”

  “Please,” Jacey said, offering her a grateful look.

  Henry stood. “I’ll get it.”

  “Megan, do you have a guess as to which team will win the cup today?”

  “I think the local team is in with a good chance. The players seem to have an innate instinct of where the opposition will go and are a close-knit team,” she said, gaining confidence as she spoke. “I’d be surprised if they don’t win. If not, they’ll certainly make the final.”

  “Did you really play rugby for New Zealand?” London asked.

  “It seems like a long time ago now, but yes. The women’s team. We won the World Championship for the three years I played.”

  Interest burned in London. “Why did you stop playing?”

  “I hurt my knee. It healed, but it was never as strong. If I do too much walking or running on it now, it aches.”

  “What time do you need to be at the school?” Jacey asked.

  Megan glanced at her watch and gasped. “In half an hour.”

  Jacey patted her hand, then lifted it and placed it on his lap. “Do you have everything you need to get ready?”

  Her brow furrowed. “I have an emergency makeup kit in my handbag, and thanks to London, I look professional.”

  “You’re staying here tonight,” Jacey said. “We can pick up your stuff and check out of your cottage later tonight, or if you’re busy, I can do it for you.”

  “No!” Megan said. Unfortunately, too sharp and abrupt because Jacey scowled while Henry, Gerard and London had varying reactions, reactions she feared to decipher. “I don’t need you organizing me.” Her gaze jerked away and hit the dog. It seemed even he had an opinion because he chose that second to bark.

  “Have you finished your breakfast?”

  Megan dropped her gaze to her plate. She’d done nothing except gnaw the corner off a bit of toast and stir her spoonful of scrambled eggs around her plate. This was like no morning-after she’d ever experienced. “Yes.”

  “Good. We’ll discuss this elsewhere.”

  Before she could blink, Jacey was guiding her toward his rooms. She let him shunt her inside, cringing at the oppressive silence. The door clicked behind them.

  “We discussed this and agreed. I don’t intend to be your dirty secret. I want the chance at a relationship with you, Megan. Things might not work out between us. I hope they do, but I want to give us a chance. That means not hiding. We’re upfront with each other and say what we’re thinking. Neither of us is young. We’ve both had other relationships and come with baggage. I get that my actions might seem pushy but I know what I want. I thought you wanted the same thing.”

  Her breath whooshed in, whooshed out. She stared at him, her throat tight. He overwhelmed her with his honesty, but how was she to know if it was an act?

  “I’d better put on makeup,” she said finally. “No, I’m not trying to avoid the conversation, but I’m so confused. Jacey, you’ve blindsided me. I wasn’t expecting this. You. I need to think.”

  “I’ve found too much thinking leads to problems,” he muttered.

  A laugh rippled from her, easing the strain in the room. “All right,” she capitulated. “We’ll pick up my stuff once I’m finished for the day.”

  “And you’ll spend the rest of your holiday with me.”

  “Yes, if you don’t mind seeing me in the same clothes.”

  “We can go shopping in Dunedin. Clothes are the easy part. London gave you two outfits.”

  “She did, which was nice of her. Okay, let me put on my makeup, otherwise I’ll be late and that’s not professional.”

  “I’ll be in the kitchen. We can leave as soon as you’re ready.”

  “Thanks.” Megan closed the distance between them and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

  “We can do better than that.”

  His arms came around her and her heart soared with expectation. The man kissed like no one else. He consumed her, drowning her in passion and excitement, making her feel as if she were the only woman in the world for him. He made her crave him, want more. And then there was his scent. Never had a scent seduced her but his…ah, she wanted to wallow in the decadence of it.

  Jacey broke off the kiss. “Makeup,” he said in a husky voice. “Not that you need it, but I know how women feel about these things.”

  He left her alone, and dazed, she placed her fingers on her swollen lips. For the sex alone she would stay with him, but it was more. Something about this man made her want to be the woman he saw.

  “Pop.”

  London saw him first and a rush of pleasure filled him on hearing Pop. Henry had always called him Jacey, although sometimes in moments of emotional crisis, he called him Dad. Jacey was okay with that because he knew Henry returned his love and respect. Gerard had followed Henry’s lead and called him Jacey from their first meeting.

  “Dad,” Henry chided.

  Jacey grinned, blinked back sudden emotion. “What?”

  “You were rough on her,” Gerard said.

  Jacey glanced toward his suite and lowered his voice. “She’s mate material. I want her to know I’m there for her, and I need to be blunt to cut through the emotional baggage in her past. The older we get, the more our memories and experiences color our actions.”

  “But you’re going to give her romance too, Pop? We women like a little romance.”

  “Is that the same as hot sex?” Gerard asked and let out an oomph when London caught him in the ribs with her elbow.

  Jacey laughed aloud since his mind had gone the same direction. “Don’t worry. I’ve learned a thing or two over the years.”

  “Good to hear.” London nodded with approval.

  “I’m not sure I want to hear,” Henry said, but he appeared calm and relaxed, unworried about a woman entering Jacey’s life.

  “You approve?” Jacey asked.

  “I’ve said it before,” Henry replied. “She smells right, and I like her.”

  Gerard sniffed the air. “Your scents are entwined now.”

  “Yeah,” Jacey said with satisfaction.

  “What scent?” London demanded. “I can’t smell a thing.”

  “Orange blossom with a hint of cinnamon and a green outdoors scent.” The combination made him want to grin like a dope.

  Henry sniffed too. “You’ve got a whole orchard thing going on.”

  “Yeah, great, isn’t it?” Jacey said.

  “If Megan is going to stay for a while, tell her I have plenty of clothes.” London glanced at Henry and squared her shoulders. “They belonged to Jenny, and I couldn’t bear to throw them away, so I kept them. I’ll air them out, and if it’s all right wi
th you, I’ll hang them in your suite wardrobe.”

  Jacey glanced at Henry, too, and found his son nodding. “That would be wonderful. I thought I might take Megan to Tekapo or maybe to Queenstown or in that direction for a few days. Do you have warm clothes?”

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “It will be good to see someone wearing them. It will bring back the fun memories. Is that okay, Henry?”

  “Yes,” his son said, his eyes bright as if he held his emotions at bay with difficulty. “You’re a good person, London.”

  Jacey heard Megan shut the door of his suite and walk toward him. His wolf perked up, eager to spend time with his mate. He turned to watch her stride into the room, and the way her steps slowed when she realized they were all watching her appearance. Including Geoffrey who barked.

  “Wow.” London broke the silence. “Show me how you did your makeup. I can see you’re wearing stuff but you were so quick, and it looks gorgeous. Natural and subtle, yet stunning.”

  “Thanks. I’ve learned a thing or two from the makeup department over the years. I’d be happy to show you.”

  “Megan, are you ready to go?” Jacey wanted to tell her she looked beautiful, but he’d conducted this romance in front of the kids enough already. He’d save his compliments for when they were alone. “Will we see you at the tournament?”

  “Let me see,” London said. “Watching sexy men run around the rugby field versus housework. Sexy men. Housework.” She chortled at Gerard’s growl. “I’ll run and get you that scarf. You don’t want to encourage questions.”

  Henry’s pointed gaze shot to Megan’s neck then back at him.

  The boy was close to laughing and not spending so much time in his head. His friends were good for him. He and Megan were helping in the entertainment department too. Jacey smiled. The things he did for his son, although he’d be careful about marking Megan in future. He had thought little last night in his urgency to touch her. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again because he didn’t want to embarrass her in public and cause a storm of gossip.

  Outside, he opened the passenger door for Megan and waited for her to seat herself before he closed it. Whistling, he jogged around the rear of the vehicle and slid into the driver’s seat. He shot a glance at her, everything inside him clenching.