I’m glad to hear I’m still your fantasy. She leaned away from him and tugged at the hem of her garment, then pulled it up over her head, and removed it altogether.
You are my only fantasy, panther. He laughed when he saw she was wearing a creamy, silk camisole under the chiton. With a wink, he grabbed her by her waist and rolled her down and under him. And now forgive me, but I need to do this. He grabbed the thin camisole by the collar and tore it in two, leaving her exposed in her white lace bra and matching panties. Much better. But still too much.
She panted, her luminous black eyes lit brighter with desire. You haven’t lost your touch.
I dream of you all the time. At night, when I can’t rest because you are not by my side, I imagine passing my hand over your body. He acted on his thought by slowly caressing her in long strokes that brushed the side of her breasts through the lace, down to her navel, and lower still to the hem of her panties. There, he hooked his finger under the elastic band and uncovered her shivering skin. I dream of kissing you like this. He traveled with his mouth along the same path his hand had taken and teased her, trailing kisses and playful bites over her curves. His lips lingered on her thigh, making her tremble in anticipation, then he moved her panties to the side, and descended toward the apex within her legs.
I missed you. Jasmine shivered, and opened to him.
The sweetness of her scent slammed into his heart, and he reverently lowered his mouth for a soft kiss.
She moaned, and he dipped his head lower, taking his time to lick and stroke her. He reveled in her short intakes of breaths and her gasps, her reaction fueling his own desire to a burning level.
I need to feel you closer. Jasmine pulled at his hair.
Lupo planted a last kiss over her, then grabbed the hem of her panties and pushed them down and out of the way, before crawling up and yanking her bra down. He took the round softness of her breasts into his hands, and sunk his face between them.
Lupo, please.
Unable to resist Jasmine’s pleading, he opened her legs with his knees, single-handedly removed his belt, opened his jeans, and lowered them to his thighs, then united them with a slow thrust. She arched against him as she pressed her hands to his back, bunching his shirt up and uncovering his skin to the nightly breeze that did nothing to cool his desire.
They moved at their own rhythm, a holy dance of intertwined bodies giving the gift of pleasure to each other. Pure ecstasy filled Lupo as he declared his undying love to Jasmine with the primeval language of the wolf when he sunk his fangs into her shoulder, marking her, and marking himself as well. Jasmine did the same a moment later, piercing his skin, and spiraling both of them toward completion. They screamed their pleasure as the wolf and the panther howled theirs.
Spent, but filled with so much joy he could barely breathe, Lupo fell to the grass, bringing her close to him.
I love you. Jasmine cuddled against his chest, and he tightened his hold on her, kissing the crown of her head.
It’s only you. It will always be you. Lupo closed his eyes, and inhaled the air redolent of their combined scents.
Chapter Twenty
The cooler air of the morning woke Lupo.
Tears had dried on his cheeks, and wet grass tickled his bare skin. Even though he knew it wasn’t possible, Jasmine’s scent lingered on his mouth, and he brought his fingers to his lips, caressing the swollen flesh that had been kissed and bitten during his dream.
He smiled at the memory of her fierceness, of how she had commanded his body to give her pleasure, and how she had pleasured him several times during the night. In his dream, she had woken him while he was sleeping, demanding he make love to her again and again, until they couldn’t move a muscle anymore.
Jasmine had talked to him, and she had sounded real. She had felt real beneath him, while she removed his clothes by yanking at the shirt, and pushed at his jeans with her feet, and then kicked them out of the way.
Naked, once again, he looked down at the smears of crushed grass on his legs, arms, and hands, and laughed, sure that his butt must have been a nice shade of green too for having rolled on the ground. On uncertain legs, he stood and walked to the stream.
The water was cold, but the sun rays were already warm and made for a pleasant contrast. He walked to the middle of the stream where he was immersed up to his chest, and dunked his head under the surface.
A trout swam by, and his wolf jumped up, asking to be released. Lupo shifted and let his wolf chase the fish for as long as he liked.
On the way back home, Lupo paused a moment at a crossroad. More than a year before, chased by the police, he had taken a stolen BMW on the country thoroughfare on his right. He couldn’t enter the road. The memories of the chase and of the accident were still too vivid, and he wouldn’t relive them.
As soon as he drove by Casolare del Lupo’s entrance, his parents and Camelia ran out of the door and descended on him, worry etched on their tired faces. With sudden regret, he realized he should have called home and tell his family he was out of sorts, but fine.
“Lupo!” Without waiting for Lupo to shut off the engine and pull the bike to a stop, Quintilius took him in his arms. “You’re unharmed—”
“I’m sorry, dad.” He leaned away, but his father hugged him back. “I’m an idiot. I don’t know what possessed me, but I wanted to be alone and I didn’t think about you guys.”
“It’s okay. I don’t care.” Quintilius held him close, then finally released Lupo, and his full figure came into view. His hair was more disheveled than normal, and his eyes were red.
Ludwig came forward for a hug too, then Camelia.
“I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again. It wasn’t my intention to worry you—” He patted his jeans’ pockets, looking for his cell phone, and remembered that it lay alongside his torn clothes outside the Den of Rejects.
Camelia kissed him on both cheeks. “What happened? We called Vera and she told us you weren’t with her.”
Lupo’s chest constricted, and he ground his teeth, before gathering his thoughts and answering, “We had a small misunderstanding and I left her place.” Having to explain himself before three adults brought him back to when he was a kid, and was caught red-handed stealing cake from the orphanage’s kitchen pantry. “I was upset and went for a drive to clear my mind. I ended up at Reserve and fell asleep in the meadow.”
His parents and Camelia nodded, and commented on his tale with the occasional “of course,” and “okay,” but their postures were still tense, and their eyes wary.
“Did anything else happened while I was out?” he asked.
Camelia lowered her eyes, while Ludwig and Quintilius looked at each other, in what looked like a telepathic conversation. Finally, they must have reached an agreement on what to do, because Ludwig said, “Let’s go inside.”
“But I’m already late for work.” Lupo’s plan had been to change and drive to the office as fast as he could, where he thought he would have found Quintilius. There, he would have given his father a slightly longer version of the explanation he had just uttered, and only after a certain amount of groveling, he would have asked for forgiveness.
“Let’s have some coffee first, at least.” Camelia climbed the stairs with some difficulty, and accepted Ludwig’s arm to help her the rest of the way.
In the kitchen, the three adults remained silent, and Lupo started worrying.
“Talk to me. What’s going on?” he asked.
Camelia removed a tray filled with croissants from the oven, and placed it on the table, then passed the moka around, and everyone served themselves.
When Camelia started dishing out the pastries, he stopped her hand with his. “Out with it. Whatever it is, it’s better if you tell me.”
“You were filmed last night,” Quintilius started. The corner of his eye twitched, and the hand holding the espresso cup wasn’t steady.
Lupo wished he didn’t have to talk about his nude-walk in front of Cameli
a. “I was going to tell you about it. I’m sorry.” He shook his head, knowing he was making a mess out of his apologies. “Were you already contacted by the Immortal Council?” At least, he hadn’t shifted in public. There was that.
“I dealt with the Council, and I told them you’ll volunteer at Wolf’s Haven.” Ludwig took his cell phone and tapped on it, then angled the screen toward Lupo.
“Of course. Anything I can do to—” Lupo was stopped by Quintilius, who directed his gaze to the phone.
“Look,” his father said.
A recording of his naked stroll was playing without audio. His butt starred in the video, while lots of people stood by ogling at him.
Lupo had to avert his eyes, embarrassment spreading warmth all over his neck and face. “What can I say that I haven’t said already? I’m the biggest idiot you’ll ever find. I know I am a disappointment to you.”
“Look closer,” Quintilius commanded, and even if he hadn’t used his alpha voice, Lupo still was compelled to immediately obey.
“I don’t see anything—” Perplexed, he shrugged.
“Among the crowd.” Ludwig pointed at the right of the screen.
He squinted. “I still don’t see—”
“The man on the corner, by the lamppost.” Ludwig tapped on the bottom right.
Then Lupo saw him, the only man in the sea of people who wasn’t laughing or hollering obscenities at him. “Is he—?” He grabbed the cell phone from Ludwig’s hand, and played back the video, paying attention to the man who looked progressively more disgusted, until his expression changed into a hateful stare. Then Lupo didn’t have any more doubt about the man’s identity, although he had seen him only once. “It’s Jasmine’s father.”
Ludwig nodded. “It’s him.”
“How did you find out?” It had taken Ludwig’s prompt to find the were-panther among the crowd. Lupo doubted his parents had looked at all the videos, and there must be several out there, and immediately noticed Jasmine’s father.
“I received an anonymous text with this video attached.” Ludwig took the phone from Lupo, then scrolled down, and opened the messages to show him the text that said, “Watch out.”
“Who could’ve sent it?” Lupo asked.
“We don’t know, but Jasmine’s family left Rome soon after you went to prison, and her father has been conducting his business from their compound in Venice ever since.” His gaze unfocused for a moment, Quintilius took a sip from his espresso cup. “We’ve been keeping an eye on him because we received several threats unrelated to our jobs—”
“Rico spoke of a panther or panthers hiring him,” Lupo whispered, his mind reeling with the ramifications of Jasmine’s father’s involvement in his attacks.
“Rico was paid by the Purists?” Quintilius asked.
“He never mentioned the Purists, but he said something along those lines. At the time, I didn’t pay his words any attention. Rico’s high most of the time and says all sorts of things.”
“But why didn’t you say anything to us?” Ludwig’s eyes widened.
“Because I didn’t want to worry you. Plus, I knew I could handle Rico.” Lupo managed to sound at least apologetic, but immediately stuffed his mouth with a croissant.
“Is there anything else we should know?” Camelia left the table to pour herself water from a carafe by the breakfast nook’s counter.
Following her movements, Lupo racked his brain, then shrugged. “Nothing else I can think of.”
“Let us know if something comes to mind later,” Ludwig said. “We’ve already called our security team to let them know you had come back, and they’re putting together a detail—”
Taken aback, Lupo put down a croissant, then leaned against his chair. “Do you think it’s necessary?”
Quintilius nodded. “Not only that, but until we have you guarded to our satisfaction, you’ll ride back and forth with me.”
“It could just be a—” Lupo started.
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Ludwig said.
Lupo passed a hand on his unshaven jaw, then on his scrubby hair. His fingers brushed green straws away. “Me neither, but I can’t live under a dome. Your suggestion it’s a bit extreme. At least, let me ride my bike.”
Quintilius tilted his head to the side, folded his arms before him, straightened his legs under the table, then said, “The extremes we’ll go to protect you are not up for discussion. I won’t pass another night like the one I just went through.”
“We were beside ourselves with worry.” Walking back from the breakfast nook, Camelia stopped behind Lupo and placed her hands on his shoulders. “You must understand you are the most important thing in our lives.”
A big lump formed in Lupo’s throat. “I’m…” He cleared the lump with a cough he choked on. “I’ll deal with the restrictions,” he croaked.
“Thank you.” Ludwig leaned sideways and patted Lupo’s arm.
“I’ll get a quick shower, then we’ll be on our way to the office.” Quintilius pushed himself away from the table, then took Camelia’s place behind Lupo, and dropped his arms around Lupo’s chest to envelop him in a hug. “I love you, son.”
Tears blinded Lupo, and he leaned into his father’s embrace, his hands pressing over Quintilius’s. “I love you, dad.”
Quintilius made an exaggerated sniffing sound, then moved away from Lupo. “Go wash yourself. You reek.”
****
By the time Lupo and Quintilius arrived at the shipping company—followed by two of Quintilius’s personal guards—the security firm had already implemented the measures his parents had asked for.
At the garage, one of the guards stepped out from a recessed corner and checked the Jaguar. “Please, roll down the glass, sir,” a werewolf said.
That was enough to finally relax Quintilius’s expression.
“Good morning, sir. Mr. Stano is waiting for you at your parking spot.” The werewolf brought two fingers to his temple and let Quintilius go.
The chief of security, Mr. Stano, a were-puma with an impressive tribal tattoo on his face, was in fact standing by the stall when Quintilius parked the car. The man escorted them from the parking spot to the elevator, and then to the offices’ floor.
Standing tall on his massive legs, the were-puma briefed Quintilius. “From the garage to the rooftop and the terraces, there is not a corner we don’t supervise. As long as you follow our instructions, you’ll be fine.”
“Good to hear.” Quintilius let the chief of security open the elevator for him, then was greeted outside by one of the were-puma’s men.
“Sir.” The man slightly bowed for Quintilius, then nodded at his boss. “All is under control on this floor.”
Several people turned to look at them. Among them, Lupo saw Vera whose eyes were marked with dark circles. He attempted a smile for her sake, and she looked down, her hands wrinkling the linen of her floral skirt.
“If you can spare a few minutes, I’d like to debrief you on what we plan to do in the next few days to increase yours and your son’s security.” Mr. Stano pointed at the glass walls of the meeting room.
“Sure.” Quintilius made a come-hither gesture for Vera, who dragged her feet to their side.
“What can I do for you, sir?” she asked, hunching her shoulders low.
“Vera, this is Mr. Stano, our new chief of security. Mr. Stano this is Vera. Vera is our personal assistant, and I want her to be part of the conversation as well.”
The were-puma nodded. “Understandable.” He reached out for Vera’s hand.
It took a moment too long for Vera to shake the man’s hand, and when she did, her forehead was pearled with sweat.
“Are you okay?” Quintilius asked her.
Vera’s lips turned up in a smile that was too thin. “I didn’t sleep well and I think I’m coming down with something.”
“You should go home.” Quintilius placed a hand over her shoulder.
“No!” Vera said, then pal
ed, her eyes wide, and she shook her head. “I’m sorry. What I meant to say is that I’m fit for work.”
Quintilius took a step toward the meeting room. “Well, should you feel worse, please go home.”
“Thank you, sir.” Vera hurried after him.
The debriefing was longer that Lupo had anticipated. After a few minutes of the chief of security droning on and on about rules and regulations, Lupo’s mind wandered. Although, he wasn’t the only one not paying attention to the were-puma’s speech. Vera too seemed lost in a world of her own, only aware of her surroundings when Lupo’s eyes fell on her, then she would avert her gaze and focus on the conversation.
Thankfully, Mr. Stano noticed Lupo’s half-asleep expression, and looking directly at him said, “In a nutshell, Mr. Solis, wherever you go, you will have an armed escort. You plan in advance your outings with us. No spur of the moment visits to friends or shopping.”
“Got it.” Lupo nodded.
The were-puma then asked for a complete list of the places both Quintilius and Lupo visited, the people they frequented, and the restaurants where they ate.
“I suggest you don’t leave the office today, but order takeout,” Mr. Stano said, then wrote down what they wanted for lunch.
Whenever Lupo thought they had reached the end of the briefing, the were-puma came up with another item of great importance. The four of them had a late lunch catered to the meeting room. It was late afternoon by the time the chief of security was satisfied with the amount of information he had imparted.
Finally in his office, Lupo opened and closed several documents in need of proofing, but his mind was elsewhere. He felt responsible for Vera’s moody countenance and wished he could do something about it. After attempting to read the same paragraph for the tenth time, he closed the laptop and walked to Vera’s office.
Surprised to find the door closed—she usually left it open—he knocked on the doorjamb. “Vera? May I come in for a moment?” He heard her saying to someone, “Call you later,” then some hurried paper-shuffling, the sound of an opening drawer, then the sound of a closing one, followed by, “Come in, Lupo.”
Lupo (The Immortals Book 8) Page 15