by Amelia Jade
“Okay,” Gwen said. “But I still don’t understand.”
“Evan is…probably a little bit unstable right now. I generally support him in the crew, or nobody at all. I can’t outright support Garrett.”
This time she could almost feel the pain. What was it between him and Garrett? What wasn’t he telling her, and from what she could gather, not telling his Alpha either? It was big, and close enough to him that it clearly hurt him. She shook her head mentally and focused back on what Russell was saying.
“So what does being seen with me have to do with supporting Garrett?” she asked, confused at the logic.
“You’re best friends with Emma. Emma is Garrett’s mate. Thus you support Garrett, whether you truly do or not, that’s just the way it will break down in the crew. Nothing you can do about that,” he said apologetically, not that she cared. She did support Emma, and trusted her decision with Garrett.
“If I’m seen with you, if they find out we’re dating, or involved, or whatever this connection is between us,” he said, waving his hand back and forth between her and him, “then that will be seen as me supporting Garrett. That will destabilize the ‘sides’ in the crew. I’m not sure what Evan will do if he finds out he’s the only one left.” Russell emphasized the words to let her know he thought it was ridiculous.
“If you were to be seen, say, kissing me,” she said purposefully, “Evan might not take that so well?”
“I think he would probably do something that would result in him being ended. I can’t let that happen,” Russell said seriously, though she had seen his eyes flicker at the thought of kissing her. “But that doesn’t mean I’m stupid enough to deny that I have feelings for you.” His voice deepened as he held her gaze, his eyes unblinking as he slowly reached out a hand across the table, taking hers within his warm, soft grasp.
Gwen licked her lips, swallowing hard as she tried to control her breathing. It was coming in shorter, shallower bursts despite her best efforts.
There’s a table between you. He can’t kiss you over the table, she tried to tell herself, trying to calm the frantic beating of her heart.
Under his hand, his thumb hooked around hers and gently began to caress her palm. It shouldn’t have caused anything, but a shiver ran through her body anyway, betraying her excitement at his outward show of interest and desire.
“Feelings?” she squeaked out nervously.
“Strong feelings,” he replied, saying each word slowly and with emphasis.
His eyes never wavered, she noticed. From the moment they had met hers, he hadn’t glanced elsewhere. Not even a flicker toward the exposed skin under her neck, where her shirt dipped, revealing the faintest curve of her cleavage. The pressure of his gaze was intense, and it ratcheted up a notch as he continued to apply it.
“Strong, yes,” she said, noting the outline of his muscles under the shirt he was wearing. It was a dress shirt, but he had rolled up the sleeves to his elbow. She could see his forearm muscles moving as he gently turned her hand over, so it was palm-up inside his. “I’ve, um...” Gwen flushed beet red as she searched for the words that had just failed her. “I’ve felt it too,” she finished lamely.
Russell smiled, the dimples on his face emphasized by the stubble. She longed to reach out and caress him, to feel the soft prickle of his facial hair under her fingers as she traced the outline of his jaw. That strong jaw, with the thick cheekbones. Or the shock of dark brown hair on the top of his head. She had seen a tuft of light blond on the back of his head, and she wanted to explore that, to see what it was.
Her heart skipped a beat as he reached forward across the table. His free hand caressed the side of her face far more gently than she would have believed possible as deft fingers smoothly tucked a stray lock of her long hair back behind her ear.
His face was close. So close. All she had to do was reach out, to lean forward no more than a few inches. Heat washed over her as she felt it radiating off of him. It was tempting. Her heart wanted it, as did the aching between her legs, a need that hadn’t been satisfied in too long. But her brain held back.
After a moment, Russell sat back slowly into his chair, the moment and most of the tension gone. She kicked herself mentally for not having the guts to go for it. He had given her the option, forcing the issue without openly taking advantage of her, and she had balked. Swearing at her brain, Gwen vowed that if another opportunity presented itself, she wouldn’t be such a coward. There was obviously something going on between them, and she owed it to herself to see where it would go.
“That’s why I’m very hesitant to outright declare how I feel,” Russell said after a moment, breaking the silence before it got any more awkward.
“You’re right,” she said. “I do grasp it intellectually, even if I don’t really understand. You owe him, and that is something that I can respect. But if I find out that you’re doing this because they think you’re with another woman, well, the result won’t be pretty,” she warned, her tone serious.
“Not my style,” he said without hesitation, once again meeting her eyes levelly, letting her gaze into his soul as he said it.
“You know, I’m tempted to believe you, despite what may be my better judgment,” she teased.
“Ouch.” Russell placed one hand over his heart as if she had stabbed him.
“Now, on to another topic.”
“Oh, and what is that my dear?”
Her heart jumped. She liked the way he called her that. It seemed so smooth and genuine.
“Emma and Garrett are getting married in a couple of days.”
“That they are,” he said with a nod, as if that was common knowledge.
“Well mister, I arrived late to town. I need a date!”
Russell frowned.
“I know, I know. But everyone knows that you were at the fight, and they know we’ve talked. So I’m not asking you to be my date-date. Just pick me up, hang out with me, sit next to me at dinner to save me since I don’t know anyone else! You know, just those kinds of things,” she said with a smile.
“That sounds like a date,” he rumbled, unsure.
“Ah! But we won’t be holding hands, nor will we kiss. So you see,” she said with a clap of her hands. “Just friends!”
“You’re asking me to take a very big risk,” he said quietly.
“And you’re asking me to do the same. I’m trusting you by agreeing to be your secret girlfriend while you resolve things with your crew. Trust me that I won’t do anything to blow the cover on things.”
“That is a very good point. Thank you for reminding me of your own perspective on this. I will admit I hadn’t thought of it from that angle.”
“What angle? That I’m trusting you not to screw me over?” she said with a smile. “Everyone earns my trust when they first meet me. It’s up to them to keep it. So far you haven’t done anything to break that trust. Just keep it up.”
“I shall do my very best Gwen Revere,” he said, all trace of humor gone from his voice.
“That sounded very serious,” she said appreciatively.
“Well,” he replied, failing to completely conceal a smile, “when dealing with secret girlfriends, one should always be serious, don’t you think?”
“Aha! So, you admit that you want to date me? To court me and woo me?” She said it in a joking manner, but there was every bit the same amount of bated breath as if she had been serious while she awaited his reply.
“I would love to do all that to you, and more,” he said. Russell, she thought, could do all sorts of things to her with just his voice.
“Oh?” she said in a small voice.
Visions of a shirtless Russell, clad only in boxers ran through her head, as his large hands lifted her shirt above her head. She lay back on the bed. The room didn’t look like her hotel, so it must have been at his place. Candles fluttered around the room, their thick, heady incense infusing her very pores. Her skin was on fire from his touch as the tips of his
fingers dragged down her stomach, snagging ever so slightly on her underwear as he dragged them off. Gwen swallowed hard as he exposed her completely. She was vulnerable now, but he knew that. Russell leaned forward, cupping her head as he leaned in, their lips inching closer together—
“But first, I think we should have a drink!”
She exhaled deeply as he got up and went to the bar, searching for any leftovers.
Holy hell, things were getting intense!
At this rate, the moment the two of them were alone they were probably going to destroy the clothing they were wearing in an attempt to get it off. She could feel his desire like it was a physical, touchable object. It throbbed and pulsed in time with her own, crying out to be mated together.
Mated. Was she his mate? More importantly, was he hers? Did she even have a mate, since she was human? But why would Russell waste time on her at this point in his life if he didn’t know? If she were honest with herself, he could have bedded her already if he’d tried, so it seemed like he was more interested in her than just for what lay between her legs.
Speaking of which, she thought, trying to control the flood of heat that threatened to drench her with warm honey before he had even kissed her. Clearly this evening was going to last longer than she had anticipated.
Chapter Nine
Russell
He couldn’t believe it. She was here, right in front of him.
His mate.
Russell wanted to proclaim it loudly for all to hear. He wanted to tell her that she was his, that he wanted her with every inch of his body and every intangible part of his soul. He wanted to take her for the first time, right there. He wanted to pleasure her. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to start a family.
He wanted.
He wanted.
He wanted.
You have no idea what she wants. Is she in this for the long haul? What are her hopes and dreams? He had no idea. Ask her you blundering mountain of a moron!
Valid point.
“Gwen,” he said, as they sat around the bar, enjoying their third or fourth drink. She was showing him some of the things she had bought or was ordering to decorate the place once it started to come back together.
“Yes?” she said, looking up at him sharply, picking up on his change of tone.
“Why did you come to Origin?”
“Because Emma is here. I needed her. She’s my oldest, best friend, and I needed her support.” There was no hesitation in her answer.
“Were you visiting her? As opposed to moving here?” he said, finally asking the question that was on his mind.
“Oh,” she said. Sitting upright, she gave him a small smile. “Honestly Russell, I had no idea at the time. I sold everything I had. I don’t have a home to go back to. But had I intended to make Origin my home when I first came here? I have no idea.”
“And now?” he said, his voice thick with emotion that he wished he could keep a damper on.
“Now, I still don’t know. I have nowhere else to be right now, if that’s what you want to know.”
He could hear the unspoken “I’ll stay if you ask me to stay” in her voice. While she might be willing to say that, he wasn’t willing to ask. Not yet, at least. They had yet to kiss, or explore each other’s bodies. Those were just as important as the comfortable and flirtatious conversation they had been carrying on for the past few hours.
Flirtatious is one way to put “sexually overcharged,” he thought wryly to himself. There was an unabashed and unhidden desire permeating the air around them at this point. The two of them had been exchanging more and more suggestive comments at various points of the conversation as the night wore on.
Unfortunately, Russell had come to realize it also coincided with each additional drink that Gwen had had. He hated the fact that because alcohol—unless he consumed a very large amount in a very short period of time—had no effect on him, he often forgot the way it affected humans.
“Well, I’m glad you chose Origin,” he said honestly. “Life sure has been less dull since you came around.”
“Thank you,” she said with a smile, finishing her drink. She looked at the empty glass before setting it down. “I should probably call it a night on the drinking.”
“I agree.” Picking up his beer he drained it and walked both of their glasses over to the sink behind the bar, giving them a good rinse. The dishwasher had been wrecked in the fight when a bear landed on the bar, crushing the beautiful mahogany and the appliance located directly below the animal’s point of impact. Ferro had said not to worry about cleaning up, but he was going to at least give it a rinse.
“I’ll drive you home,” he told her as he came back to the table to see her standing up, zipping her jacket. Ferro had hooked up several space heaters to help keep the place heated, and sheets of plastic hung over the openings, but it was still quite cold in the areas where the heaters were not present.
“Thank you, I was just wondering what to do about that,” she said, clearly embarrassed that she had let herself drink more than she should have.
He smiled, then called into the back. “Ferro, we’re leaving. Thank you again.”
There was a grunt that somehow echoed easily out of the back room and filled the bar.
“How does he do that?” Gwen said, looking around at the noise.
“Do what?”
“Make it so loud. Hell, I doubt you could grunt like that and make it so... so... so big!” she finished for lack of a better word.
“Dragon tricks,” he said, politely ignoring the loud snort that came from the back room at his words.
“Oh. That would make sense I guess.” She followed his outstretched arm as they headed out into the rapidly cooling night. “There’s so much I don’t know about you,” she said. She meant shifters, he thought, though it could easily go both ways.
“Well, you’ve already learned a lot too,” he said. “You’ll pick up on more the longer you’re around us.
“I’m going to be around for longer, am I?”
“Absolutely,” he said with conviction. “I didn’t go through all this effort to acquire a secret girlfriend just to get rid of her,” he teased. She hit him squarely in the arm with a punch, and he rubbed it, grimacing as if he were sore.
“Oh please, don’t patronize me that much,” she said, shaking her head at him.
“Yes ma’am,” he said meekly.
“I give up!” she said, throwing her hands up in the air. “Ah!”
Russell spun, his inhuman reflexes working overtime as she tripped and fell, headed face-first for the concrete with her hands still high in the air. Thankfully she was close by, not on the far side of the truck. His hand whipped across her body, grabbing onto the first thing he could and pulling her tight to him as he crouched down with her.
The end result, as he stood up slowly, bringing her with him, was that she had ended up with her back pressed into him, his left hand stretched across her chest, grabbing onto one of her breasts.
Ignoring the less than appropriate placement of his hand, she slowly turned to face him, not backing away. Her head tilted up to look at him. Their faces were mere inches apart as she caught her breath from the sudden exhilaration of her fall and unexpected rescue.
“That was fast,” she said in astonished breathlessness.
He didn’t reply, unsure of what to say. Russell wasn’t entirely sure his voice would have worked if he’d wanted it to. She was so close he could smell her sweetness, the subtle whiff of her perfume. It reminded him of something, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on just what it was.
“You saved me from a rather nasty fall.”
Russell nodded gently, his arm tightening ever so slightly around her back, keeping her close. This time he wasn’t going to let her pull away. He was going to find the courage to kiss the beautiful woman.
“Is there anything I can do to say thank you?” she said.
It was obvious she had said that on purpose. He
r tongue flicked out, licking her lips, which hung open a minute amount as they anticipated his next move.
“Perhaps,” he managed to say, the deep timbre of his voice steady with control.
“What can I do?” she asked him.
He felt the slight tremor run through her body. It ran down her back, and he felt it through his palm, and then it ran up her arms and through her hands, where she had them resting on his chest.
The same chest that was doing its best not to heave in time with the rapid fire tempo of his heartbeat. He knew there was no way his ribs could stand up to the beating they must be taking. The pain should have been excruciating, but all he felt was a sense of finally, completely, and utterly, being alive.
A vocal reply to her question wasn’t necessary. Slowly, painfully slowly, he ran his hand up her back, until he found her neck. Caressing that as gently as possible, he stared into her fascinating eyes, the color of emerald like the greenest of seas, an ocean of tranquility that was currently upset by the tension of the moment.
His fingertips found her jaw, and he tilted her head slightly to the side. There was a mixture of desire and fear in her eyes. He was sure the same was visible within his.
When she didn’t flinch from his touch, he leaned forward and lightly brushed his lips against hers. He barely felt them make contact, but Gwen’s sharp intake of breath as they parted told him everything he needed to know.
Dropping his hand from her face, he grasped her waist with both hands. Muscles flexing, he lifted her up and onto the hood of his truck as the dam broke within him and desire overwhelmed nerves. Lips pressed together in a fierce display of previously pent-up want which had now transformed into a ravenous need. She violently wrapped her hands around his head and pulled him into her tightly, never relinquishing her grip, mashing their lips together as they kissed each other with a fiery passion he had never known before.
Everything he had wanted to say, all that he had wanted to show, every ounce of restraint that he had used to hold his feelings within a cage from the moment he saw her came bursting forth. Their tongues danced back and forth, exploring each other’s mouths, while their hands cursed the extra thickness of winter jackets as they sought the feel of their other half.