Protecting What's Hers (To Love And Defend Book 2)

by Daniella Starre

  Mandy glanced up at him. His hands drifted up her back and entangled in her hair. She wasn’t sure who initiated the kiss, but it was hot, so fucking hot, and she wanted to rip the towel off him and take him right then and there.

  But the thought of her stripping to her undies brought her attention back to the matter at hand.

  “The police. I have to call them.”

  Clint nodded. His eyes were clouded over. He wanted her. She wanted him. But the timing was so fucking wrong. Everything about this was wrong. Maybe they weren’t meant to be.

  Mandy rushed out of the bathroom. She had left her phone downstairs. The moment her foot hit the carpet of the dining room, she hesitated.

  “What’s wrong?” Clint asked. He stood right behind her.

  Wordlessly, she pointed to the table. Resting on it was a vase filled with all different kinds of flowers from roses to tulips and daisies and others she didn’t recognize.

  Clint dashed to the front door and then to the back in the kitchen. “They’re locked,” he said, puzzled. He rushed to his computer and clicked and clacked on the keyboard. “Son of a bitch. He disabled my alarm. I don’t know how he did that.”

  Mandy couldn’t stop staring at the bouquet. “I don’t even like flowers,” she said.

  “No?” Clint sat on the couch instead of bending over his laptop on the coffee table. He patted beside him, and she sat next to him. “Why not?”

  “Because they die. I prefer chocolate-covered strawberries, actually.”

  Clint grinned. I’ll make a note of that.”

  “With how you can whip up brownies, I’m sure you could make some for me.”

  “I can, and I will. Once this is over.”

  Her heart pounded furiously. She wanted this to be over already. The thought that Jack had managed to get past all of the security measures not once but twice…

  Unless he had come into the house once, hid, and then placed out the flowers.

  Which meant Jack might be in the house this very moment.

  “Is that a promise?” she whispered.

  “It is. Whatever you want.”

  She leaned over so her lips practically touched his ear. “I want us to go through the house room by room. Do a full sweep. Make sure he isn’t still inside.” She pulled away and faked a smile. “Whatever I want? I think I want more brownies.”

  Hand in hand, they checked every room in the house. Jack wasn’t there. Mandy wanted to breathe easier, but she couldn’t. Not until the bastard had been dealt with.

  While Jack did what he could to set up the security system again, Mandy called the police to report the crimes. They said they would send out an officer shortly. It seemed someone had started a rash of fires, and officers were tied up all over the city. Mandy couldn’t help wondering if Jack had been behind that, but he couldn’t be everywhere at once.

  Maybe he’s a genius psychopath stalker.

  She shuddered.

  “We will call you if we have any news,” the officer said. “Please call us if anything new develops.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  Mandy was annoyed that no officer could come over immediately, and she was about to tell Clint everything when someone knocked on the door.

  “Are you expecting a delivery?” Clint asked, glancing up from his screen to her.

  “My mom might be.” Mandy shrugged and looked over his shoulder. The delivery man wasn’t Jack in disguise. She breathed easier until she spied what he was holding.

  Mandy marched over to the door and swung it open so hard it banged against the wall.

  “Chocolate-covered strawberries?” she demanded critically.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He held out the box.

  “Any note?” she asked, not accepting the box.

  “It’s inside.”

  Mandy grabbed the box and kicked the door shut. Clint locked it behind her.

  “I can get new locks put on the house if you’re willing to go to the hardware store with me,” he said.

  “Good idea, but first…” She rubbed her throat. “Should we open this?”

  Clint picked it up and rattled it gently. “Doesn’t seem like a bomb to me.”

  “I wouldn’t think so. He wants me.”

  “Maybe he won’t be happy about sharing,” Clint murmured into her ear.

  “Clint, how did he know?” she asked. “I told you, what, ten minutes ago about preferring strawberries to the flowers?”

  Clint’s eyes grew wide with confusion and then understanding. He rushed back to his computer and shut everything off.

  “He must’ve bugged my system,” Clint said, sounding furious. “I can’t believe it.”

  “He really is a psychotic genius,” she murmured.

  Throwing aside her fear, she threw open the box. Inside was a note that read, “No more flowers. All the chocolate-covered strawberries you could want. Everything your heart desires you will receive because you are my heart’s desire. Our love will outlast the moon. You will see. You will love me.”

  “I disabled everything,” Clint said, “but that leaves us as sitting ducks. We can head to my place or—”

  The landline phone rang. The police. In a daze, she listened to what they had to say, told them about Jack’s stunt with the strawberries, and hung up.

  She turned to Clint eagerly. “Jacob Freeman.”

  “Who?”

  “My blind date was supposed to be with a guy named Jacob Freeman. I never would’ve agreed to a date with Jack again. He gave me the creeps the first time around, and I should’ve never stayed for the entire meal. Anyhow, Jack showed up instead of Jacob, and I thought he’d just faked using Jacob’s name. I thought there was no connection between the two.”

  “But there is.” Clint’s voice held a note of uncertainty and hesitation. “Something dark, I take it.”

  Her eagerness dissipated just like that.

  “Very dark, I’m afraid,” she said.

  What in the world was Jack doing to her? Being excited that they had a lead on him was one thing. That the police was ready to move on him was huge. But what Jack had done to Jacob was unforgivable. It made her happiness at the lead seem twisted and as creepy and disgusting as Jack himself.

  She jumped to her feet. “Finish up with the security stuff. We can talk when you’ve finished,” she said.

  Not bothering to wait for a reply, she rushed to the kitchen. She should get something healthy to eat, but her stomach was churning. Her guilt was eating away at her. Disgust and self-loathing had her slamming fists onto the counter. A knife clattered, falling from the pan of brownies.

  She broke off a tiny piece and popped it into her mouth when she smelled someone behind her. Immediately, she relaxed. Clint. Not Jacob.

  Clint crossed his arms. “What did Jack do?”

  “There’s a warehouse that was renovated years ago before the owner died. The place was then abandoned again. I think it’s been foreclosed.”

  “Over on East Ten Mile Road?”

  “How did you know?” she asked, confused.

  His grin wasn’t as wide as normal. “Who do you think renovated it?”

  “Ah. Nice. Well, it’s been renovated again. Redecorated. A morbid display. He dumped Jacob’s body there.”

  She shuddered, not from fear but from anger. If Jack was willing to go to that length to ensure that he could take Jacob’s place on a blind date with her, what lengths would he take to force her to be his? Definitely kidnapping. Would he hurt or even kill someone she cared about? Her family? Her friends? Clint?

  She stared at the werewolf before her. No matter what Jack did, she would protect herself and her people. She’d protect what was hers.

  “So the police suspect him,” Clint said. “That’s good. They need to nail the fucker and get him off the streets.”

  She gave a half-smile. Here came the hard part.

  “Yes. They’re going after him, but they don’t want me to be caught in the crosshairs.
They want me to be safe. The police are placing me in protective custody.”

  Clint gaped at her, his dismay and anger evident. “No way. That’s not safe.”

  “The police can protect me,” she started.

  “The police don’t have any idea what kind of a lunatic Jack really is. For all we know, he’s close enough to snapping and shifting into a wolf in a room full of humans. We can’t risk it.”

  “There are a few werewolves on the police force,” she protested.

  “You’ll be safer here,” he said stubbornly.

  “Safer here at the place where Jack already came and threatened my parents. Safer at the place that Jack’s already entered and stole items from me. Safer that the place where he delivered me flowers and disabled your security measures. Yeah, you’re right. That all screams safety to me.” Anger sizzled through her, and she wouldn’t be surprised if a shock went off if they touched right now.

  “What about my place?” he suggested.

  “Oh. Next door. That’s definitely not a place Jack would think to look.” She tilted her head to the side, hands on hip, and tapped a foot impatiently.

  “We could get a hotel room or—”

  “Because that’s so different from protective custody,” she snapped.

  “I can keep you safe.”

  “I don’t need you too. I’m more than capable of handling things.”

  “It’s not that…” Clint hesitated and ran a hand through his already dry hair. “I do think you’re strong and powerful. That’s not it.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I hate the idea of you being watched by other people. Humans or werewolves.”

  “Why?” she pressed. “What’s it to you?”

  “I think you know,” he said quietly.

  “Clint…”

  “I understand. You aren’t ready yet. You don’t want to hear this. Fine. I won’t say it. But I will say that you mean a lot to me. I will hate myself forever if anything happens to you. Let me be there for you.”

  “I don’t need—”

  “It’s not always about what you need,” he murmured. “It’s about what you want.”

  Mandy held completely still, holding her breath. What did she want? Better question, who did she want?

  She took a single step toward him. “I can handle myself.”

  “I’m not denying that.”

  Another step. “I would never endanger those I care about.”

  “Those you care about are more concerned about you being in danger,” he said.

  “He’s already threatened my parents!” she said, halting a few paces from him. “Imagine what he would do if he thought we… if we…”

  “If we what?” Clint asked. “We haven’t done anything.”

  “Yet,” she said softly.

  “That’s up to you,” he said.

  “Everything should be up to me,” she said.

  Smiling. She was smiling. Despite everything. Despite Jack. Despite Brent.

  Smiling. At Clint. Watching him smile back.

  Something inside of her just clicked. She didn’t understand what had drawn her to fall for Brent so hard, so fast, and she had no idea why it seemed to be happening again. With Brent, right away, she’d been willing to throw around the word soulmate. She wasn’t nearly there yet with Clint. Maybe she never would be. Maybe Clint was only Mr. Right Now. Regardless, she knew both what she needed and who she wanted.

  Mandy decreased the space between them until she was flush against him. Her fingers interlocked behind his neck, and she pulled him toward her until their lips pressed together. Kiss and make up. They’d argued some, and now, they were making up, making out…

  Her hands trailed down his bare back, and she shivered. His back was a solid wall of muscle.

  His hands cupped her back, forcing her even closer to him, and she could feel how badly he wanted her.

  Her body tingled from his touch, and she broke off the kiss to gasp when his hands lifted her shirt so that he could touch her back.

  “This okay?” he asked as he gently stroked up and down her back.

  She shivered again, delighting in his feathery fingers, loving the feel of his skin against hers.

  “He can’t see or listen or watch?” she murmured.

  “Not possible. I disabled the—”

  She kissed him to cut him off, trusting him completely that Jack couldn’t watch them.

  He pressed his tongue into her mouth, and she accepted him, raking her nails against his back. Every part of her wanted this, wanted him, and she needed to have him now.

  Clint picked her up and wrapped her legs around his hips. His hands cupped her ass as he easily carried her to the living room. She kissed him all over, his cheeks, beneath his ears, his neck.

  Gently, he laid her onto the couch. She didn’t stay reclined for long, sitting up and removing her shirt.

  Clint stared at her, at her face and not her heaving breasts. She was already breathing heavy.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said appreciatively, cupping her face and rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone.

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” she said. Her gaze lowered, and she did a double take. The towel had slipped, exposing himself. He was more than ready for her.

  Was she ready for him?

  “We don’t have to,” he said softly. “I would never want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

  She unzipped her jeans and slipped out of them. Then she seized his hand and placed it between her legs. “You tell me if I want to.”

  While maintaining eye contact, he pushed her thong to the side and slipped a finger and then another inside of her. It had been years since she’d last made love to her husband, and her walls felt so tight around him. His thumb circled her clit, and she began to whimper.

  “You like?” he murmured, a hint of worry and fear in his voice.

  “As much as you do,” she breathed.

  She shifted slightly so he had better access to her, but she also could grip his shaft. Slowly, from the tip to his balls, she stroked him, taking her time. This felt right. This felt perfect. Her desire almost frustrated her, but she knew that in the end, it would be worth it.

  “You’re going to be the death of me,” Clint groaned, his voice deepening with desire.

  He reached around and unhooked her bra. She released his cock long enough to remove her bra before firmly gripping his dick again and stroking slightly faster than before.

  In response, Clint slipped a third finger inside of her. He leaned against her until she was lying down, his fingers still working their magic. The moment his tongue flicked a nipple, an orgasm rolled over her, furious and frantic, as powerful as a tidal wave.

  In response, Clint slipped a third finger inside of her. He leaned against her until she was lying down, his fingers still working their magic. The moment his tongue flicked a nipple, an orgasm rolled over her, furious and frantic, as powerful as a tidal wave.

  Tears sprang to her eyes. She had come so close to shouting out Clint’s name.

  Why? Why did this feel so right? Why did she love the way his body fit on top of hers? Why did his kisses make her toes curl?

  Why didn’t she feel guilty?

  Clint removed his fingers and rubbed himself against her without inserting.

  “I have a condom in my pocket,” he murmured.

  “You do? That doesn’t surprise me.”

  He grinned and winked at her, rubbing harder against her clit. She gasped and squirmed, needing more, so much more.

  “What hot-blooded wolf doesn’t have one on him at all times?” he asked, still smiling.

  “Clearly you’re very hot-blooded. Or just hot.”

  He started at her expectantly.

  At her nod, he jumped up and raced upstairs. He’d left his pants in the bathroom. Quicker than she expected, he returned to her side.

  Mandy eased the condom wrapper out of his hand, ripped it opened, and glo
ved him, stroking him, relishing in the way he tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

  “Come here,” he said.

  He pulled her up to standing and picked her up again. Before she could laugh, he lowered her on to himself, and she gasped instead.

  “You good?” Clint asked.

  “Never… better,” she said breathlessly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and eased her tongue into his mouth.

  Clint could kiss. He alternated between cupping her ass and rubbing one hand up and down her back. She felt so close to him, too close and yet not close enough.

  In his arms, she felt safe. She wanted to protect everyone, but maybe she could be protected too after all.

  Already, another orgasm was building. This time, Mandy screamed his name when she came.

  Clint thrusted, plunging himself deep a few more times. He muttered a curse, whispered her name, and kissed her forehead.

  “That was amazing,” he murmured.

  “It was. It really was.” Mandy clung to him even after he lowered her to the ground.

  For a moment, she paused, trying to calm her breathing. She should feel guilty. She should hate herself.

  But she didn’t. It was impossible, but it had felt right. Clint had felt right. She didn’t regret it in the slightest.

  Move forward. Don’t move on.

  She hadn’t always been certain that she’d be able to do that. Moving forward with her life without moving on and forgetting her husband. Now, she had some reassurances that she could handle it and more. Everything. From Jack to Brent to Clint.

  Everything will work out.

  I hope.

  12

  Holding her, kissing her, making love to her had been amazing. Clint hadn’t thought it would happen. Not yet. No so soon. But he’d hoped it would happen, and he was so damn glad it had.

  Mandy smiled shyly at him as she retrieved her bra. She was still wearing her thong yet, a black lace piece that made him want to turn her over the arm of the couch and take her from behind.

  “Now what?” Clint asked, trying to focus some even though the gorgeous, capable woman in front of him was so damn distracting.

  “We should get dressed,” she said dryly as she shoved a leg into her jeans. “Hold up.”

  She tugged out her phone and frowned.