Watching Her Every Move

by Diana DeRicci

  She leapt for the other side of her bed, forcing open one of the side slide windows then shoved the screen free. It popped out with a wrenched crack. The loud thuds of footsteps were definitely heading in her bedroom’s direction. They knew she was home now.

  She swung a leg over the sill and shimmied herself out to the other side just as a loud scream filled her house to the rafters right before a solid crash on the other side of her door shook the walls. She didn’t turn to look, falling to the ground and hugging the side of the house. Violent curses were echoing up and down the house. The sudden vacuum of no electricity hit her home.

  She stilled with a stunned feeling. It had worked.

  One toasted bad guy. The rank stench of melted wires and what was likely singed hair filled her nostrils from the window just above her with her next gasped breath. She shook it off, searching for the safest route.

  She spun on a foot and raced for the front of the house. There was no sight more welcome than Jonas’s Explorer pulling up to the curb on her side of the house. Hiding at the side of the house, she waved a hand to him from the shadows to get his attention, then held up two fingers, flipping them from herself then toward the house when he spotted her. He motioned for her to stay where she was and crept up to the house, drawing his gun as he neared.

  Her heart was beating so hard, she wondered how it stayed in her chest.

  Jonas inched through the door, and then she couldn’t see him. She prayed like she never had in her life. Not when her father was dying in the hospital, no medical miracle saving him, not when she’d sold her first large commissioned house, not even when she’d divorced her ex and prayed his dick would fall off out of spite. No, this praying was deep, spiritual and aimed solely for Jonas.

  She needed him to walk back out that door. Tense minutes passed, or maybe only seconds. She had no idea. Silence and agony of the unknown were all she had.

  A gunshot rent the air with sickening sharpness.

  She jumped, swallowing the scream. Her skin instantly iced over with fear. She slumped against the side of the house, tears filling her eyes as her greatest fear filled her heart and soul. She knew at least one of the thugs who’d broken in had a gun.

  Silence.

  She gasped a hard sob.

  “Stacee?”

  She snapped straight in a heartbeat. Lurching off of the wall, she barreled around the corner of the house and ran into his arms.

  “It’s over, baby.”

  She sobbed as his hands tucked her emotionally drained body into his.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Not three minutes later, police cars began to pull up, circling and blocking her house and every way in or out of the neighborhood. Several were unmarked and had men in starched suits pour out of them. Doors cracked open up and down the street, and people gathered in pockets on the sidewalk to watch.

  “Drama and bullets,” she muttered, rocking her head against his chest.

  He chuckled, running his hands up and down her spine in comfort. “You’re the best drama around, sweetheart.” His breath was warm against her ear as he kept her close, protecting her from staring eyes.

  She thumped him on the shoulder with a limp fist trying hard not to laugh, just too happy to express that it was Jonas who walked out that front door.

  “Agent Dreyer.” One of the suits addressed him when he approached. “The memory chips?”

  He nodded and tipped down to press a kiss to her temple.

  “Dishwasher,” she breathed for him and him alone.

  A rumble of surprised laughter shook his chest. “Do you want me to stay here?” he asked her, willing to stay if she wanted.

  She blinked back the sudden heat of her tears at his offer, but shook her head. “No. This needs to end.”

  He drew a deep breath, and she felt as a heavy tension covered his frame as if he wanted to say something, but one more breath later, it was gone. He nodded and caressed her cheek.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  She realized, with no small shock, that she would willingly wait for him every day, forever, as he walked with the Secret Service guy into her house.

  * * * *

  Silence. What an amazing sound. Blessed silence. A good silence, the quiet of nightfall at her home.

  No more questions, no more strangers tromping through her house, over her yard, or a dozen cars parked like an auto-maker’s fence line at the street. The moon was just rising beyond the row of houses across the street, somehow making the last hour or so seem very surreal. All she had to do was turn around to know it had all happened.

  The front door was ajar behind her where she sat on the porch, watching the moths dance and flutter beneath the streetlamp over the sidewalk. It wouldn’t close properly until it was repaired and that would be tomorrow at the earliest. Her window screen would also need to be repaired. Thankfully, the medics who’d arrived to tend to the shot victim had also dealt with the guy who’d electrocuted himself into a numb stupor right outside her bedroom door. She hadn’t seen any of the aftermath, but had received several impressed looks for the idea.

  Silently, she sent a prayer to her dad. Her mother was still hurting for the brave, loving man who’d been shot in the line of duty doing what he loved outside of his family, and she couldn’t blame her for her pain. As Stacee got older, she’d understood that pain better, but she would never forget the things he’d taught her.

  Warm thighs pressed against hers as Jonas sat behind her on the porch, wrapping himself around her in a cocoon of warmth. The strength of his steeled arms circled her, and she never felt safer.

  “You shouldn’t stay here tonight,” he said, leaning until his chin rested on her bare shoulder. “No power, a door that doesn’t lock.”

  “It stinks inside,” she added offhandedly.

  His chest moved with a short laugh. “Is that why you’re out here?” he asked, pulling her closer.

  “Some of it.”

  She shivered when his hands found skin and massaged. “You’re cold. It’s still too cold at night to be out here in shorts, baby.”

  “I could call Kay,” she told him absently, loving the feel of his palms on her thighs, rubbing warmth back into her. She arched back into his chest and he dropped a kiss on her exposed throat. Warmth seeped into her quickly, her body recalling what had happened between them just a few hours before.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Oh?” she breathed, quickly falling under the tease of his fingers and lips.

  “Come with me,” he beckoned in a seductive voice that sent a thrilling shiver down her spine.

  Her hands landed on his, halting his rubbing, which had slowly been maneuvering toward the inner part of her thighs. A delicious sensation that she hated stopping. “You want me to come home with you?”

  He sat in contemplative silence for a moment, then laced his fingers through hers. “Actually, I want you to come home and stay.” Wicked heat flared when he taunted her earlobe with his tongue.

  “Jonas?” This was moving fast between them, into territory she wasn’t very familiar with. She’d been out of the dating game for a long time. Attraction was one thing, even lust. Taking it to the next level? She wasn’t sure if she was that ready.

  “Hm?” he answered, deeply engrossed in the slope of her neck and shoulder, dropping heated and seductive kisses where he could reach. He did that a lot, given the opportunity.

  “I don’t do one night stands.”

  He shrugged behind her. “I don’t either. I told you earlier, it wasn’t just that once. Not by a long shot.”

  Her mouth popped open, but he silenced her with a finger over her lips. “Just come home with me,” he purred against her ear. “Let the rest sort itself out.” He slid his hand with a teasing lightness down the front of her throat until he found the weight of her breast. She moaned as he circled sensitive skin and teased her nipple to a hard point beneath her tank top. She shivered with renewed desire as he worked his magic over
her, finally caressing her, arousing her only the way he could.

  The warmth of his touch flowed until it rested on the top of her thigh, his fingers between her legs, just there. Not moving, not seducing, not inciting. They both knew what he was capable of, but he wasn’t using that to force a decision. But the memory of the pleasure he’d given her was burned into her.

  He was the devil reincarnate. She agreed completely overrun with a delicious hunger for his touch, a passion only he could give her.

  * * * *

  Jonas helped her while she packed a couple bags with clothes and womanly necessities. She locked her car in the garage, and he installed a heavy security lock on her front door to keep it as safe as possible when they left.

  He didn’t doubt what he was doing, but it still made him nervous. His future with this woman was hinged on two things. Whether or not she could accept him and his secret, and if she couldn’t, if she’d ever forgive him for using the bonding of sex to keep her if she couldn’t accept his nature. Because he wasn’t going to let her go. Not now. Not ever.

  He hadn’t had a lot of time to assimilate that afternoon’s tryst in her car, but it had driven home just who she was, and that she was meant to be with him. He’d never felt so compelled, consumed like he did like when he was with Stacee. The world could blow up and he wouldn’t notice, and likely not care so long as he had her in his arms. Her scent, her flavor, the silkiness of her skin and the brush of her hair. All of it drove him wild, in a deep primal way. Even then, after hours of questions and telling and retelling of the facts, he couldn’t remove the taste of her from his tongue. He craved to taste her heat for himself, to lap up the pure honey of her pleasure. If he was the big dog, she’d reduced him to a rub-my-belly puppy.

  He knew the truth, what he was skirting around like a kid on hot concrete running around the pool on his toes with anxious skips, wanting the coolness of all that water, but terrified of the leap. He didn’t fear it, but just the same, it left him tangled in knots to know what he was facing. That this could be the biggest change of his life, or the worst relationship he’d never escape. Give him a shoot-out in a dark alley any day. This was going to kill him without ever touching a gun.

  “You know, my mom is going to love you,” she said in a low distracted voice from her side of the vehicle.

  “Oh?” he asked with an arched eyebrow, surprised that mentioning her mother was the next thing she’d bring up. It told him that he wasn’t alone on this thoughtful train.

  “Yeah.” She fluttered a hand between them. “She’ll love you until she learns you’re a cop, then she’ll hate you. She’ll eventually learn to like you.”

  “I see. Would telling her I’m not a street cop help?”

  “She won’t see the difference between an agent and a cop. You carry a gun,” she told him with a crooked smile. “Just thought I should warn you.”

  He nodded. “I understand.”

  “I thought you might.”

  “But her daughter, your father’s daughter, is a woman to be proud of.”

  She lightly shrugged away the compliment, unable to hide the pleased smile in the small confines of the vehicle. “She still has some bitter moments.”

  “We’ll smooth them over.” He slowed and pulled into a long driveway. An electronic gate opened, and he rolled through, double checking in the mirrors as he moved past it that it locked in place.

  “This is a very nice house,” she said, sitting straight to take it all in. “I didn’t picture you as living in the woods.”

  He was rather proud of the house himself. A large sprawling ranch house that he’d added the fence to. The trees were bountiful and towered over the yard, and reached for some distance from the rear where he preferred to run, unhindered and undisturbed.

  “A house made for a family,” she said almost whimsically.

  For the first time, he saw it through her eyes and could agree. He also knew he had the right woman. If everything went well tonight. He felt that growing fist in his gut twist at the worrisome thought.

  He glanced at her in the dim lights surrounding them. Her face glowed from the ambient lights, her attention elsewhere as she studied his home. His only thought was he’d never known a more beautiful, brave woman in his life. There was only one thing left to do.

  He took the plunge, and the water felt incredible.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Jonas silenced the truck and turned to her. He brushed the thick hair away from her face, spotting the hickey. His. And he’d cherish and protect her for as long as she lived. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He searched her.

  She cupped a hand over his. “I’m fine. Now.”

  He swallowed when his heart danced. His physical response was keeping him off center, but he tried to keep it from showing. Between his body’s crying need to possess her completely, his nature demanding he claim her as he should, and the worry he felt at all of the above, there was no center of gravity for him. He was teetering hard, deciding which direction to move in first. Claim and let it work itself out, or explain and pray. He wished he knew. The indecision, the worst of his life, was causing his stomach to take on a permanent pretzel feeling.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked him, tenderly swiping her thumb over his bottom lip.

  He drew a breath, pulling in his wandering worries and let it all back out. “Nothing. Let’s go in.”

  He palmed her bags while she carried her purse and he let her go in first. The first woman to stay with him. The first woman to walk into his den, into his home.

  “Jonas, if you’d rather I stayed somewhere else, I can stay with Kay. She won’t mind.” He jerked up, aware he’d been frowning in the direction of her suitcase.

  “No,” he stated firmly. “This is just… I’ve never had a woman here before.”

  She nodded, as though unsurprised. “I can see that. You’re very territorial.”

  That she’d read him that well, amazed him. “How do you know?” One thing he knew, was Stacee knew people, knew how to interpret silence, or looks. He realized he’d really have to work to keep things like Christmas presents a secret from her.

  “You always put yourself between me and whoever else may be nearby, even Kay. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind it, but I know when you’re being possessive. You have an assertive nature, or you wouldn’t do what you do. You’re an alpha. I know what that looks like.”

  He blinked, struck speechless at her choice of words. He swallowed, not daring to let himself touch her. Barely daring to breathe. He wasn’t used to feeling fear. He refused to start now, even as it clashed with an unexpected hopeful elation. “And you don’t care that I’m like that? Because I can’t change it.”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Doesn’t bother me in the least.”

  Relief swelled and he felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He could do this. He could tell her. He slid his jacket off his shoulders, exposing his holster. He reached for one of her hands and led her into his living room.

  “Don’t worry. We’re going to talk first,” he told her as he sat her down. He tossed his jacket over the back of a chair and unbuckled his weapon to hang on the tree with his denim jacket. “I told you earlier before we went further, there was something I had to tell you.”

  She sat on the edge of the chair, attentive. “I remember.” She watched him as he paced.

  Okay, not as easy as he’d believed. He sucked in another hard breath. “It’s going to sound crazy.”

  “Well, if you’re not sick, or have some disease, what could it be?” A perplexed frown had overtaken her brow.

  His heart banged against his ribs as trepidation filled his body. He knelt next to her and reached for one of her hands, holding her in between his. He forced the four words from his mouth. The first time he’d ever told another of his nature. “I am a shifter.”

  He couldn’t look up, dreading what he’d see. Disbelief, shock, astonishment, alarm. Fear.

  Second
s grew thick with silence and that fear he refused to acknowledge returned.

  “And I’m a natural blonde,” she snipped, her words devoid of all humor. “Don’t tease me, Jonas. You don’t have to tell me some ridiculous lie if you don’t want to see me again. It’s not like we actually slept together.” She yanked her hand free and pushed him away to stand. He blocked her, and she tumbled back down to the chair. “Although why the big show to get me to come home with you…” She trailed off and put more distance between them.

  He growled. He did not like her losing her trust of him. “You trusted me until five minutes ago to not hurt you, to never lie, to protect you. Why would I lie about this?”

  “Because shifters are a fictional thing!” She threw her arms up then around her body in protection. “You are sick. How they never found this on your psyche eval, I’ll never know.”

  “I can prove it,” he stated calmly, finally looking up at her. “I can prove it. The reason I brought you home with me is because I had a choice to make. I either trusted you enough to tell you before I took you to my bed, or took you first and hoped like hell you could live with the beast within the man, because there’s no going back.” He took a breath and stood before her. “I trusted you enough to tell you first.”

  She shook her head, trying to not laugh, the first sign of hysteria.

  “I cared enough to tell you first,” he added. “Will you at least let me prove it to you before you leave?”

  Her melded eyes were dark, but glistening as her thoughts tumbled around behind them. He feared what they were, and hoped like hell he’d never have to find out. He wanted to dispel every doubt, every disbelieving glare.

  He frowned. “I’m not going to hurt you, Stacee. You do know that. I would not, could not hurt you. This big dog never could.”

  “What are you?” she whispered in a thready voice, still watching him suspiciously.

  The first taste of relief was impossible to ignore. Curiosity was a strong reaction. “Wolf. My pack is scattered through the city.”