by Renee Rose
“A motorcycle? Really?” Layne lights up.
I hand her a helmet. “Have you ever ridden on one?”
“No, but I’ve always wanted to.”
“Hop on, sweetheart.” When she’s settled, I pull her arms around me tight. “You all right?”
“Yes! Shouldn’t you be wearing a helmet?”
I shrug, and let the bike roar forward, reveling in her delighted squeal. We go fast, taking the scenic route to La Jolla beach, stopping only for food and at a store where she can buy a bathing suit.
“Thank you,” she squeezes me before hopping off the bike. I follow her like a puppy, wearing huge dopey grin, but I don’t care.
A few hours later, I’m thinking taking Layne to the beach wasn’t my brightest idea.
Seeing her dancing in the waves of the ocean in that tiny blue bikini is putting serious strain on my willpower. I keep staring at the triangle covering the place I want to be.
But this isn’t about me.
Layne’s anger yesterday brought home the stark reality of her life—it won’t be long.
It won’t be long and she’s hardly lived it. She’s been cooped up in a classroom or lab her entire life.
So I decided enough is enough. We may not have a future, but we have this moment.
Today.
I owe her big time after upsetting her with yesterday’s fight. I can’t put away my mission to rid the world of Smyth’s evil, but I can see that Layne experiences some of the joys of living in southern California.
I run down the beach and pick her up by the waist, carrying her deeper into the water.
She shrieks and wraps her legs tight around me, exactly the way I’d imagined. I stop as a wave crashes around our waists, then carry her deeper still. Our lips meld. She smells like salt and sun and the sweet jasmine scent that coats her hair.
“I never imagined I’d be here,” she confesses.
“Where?”
“Not where. Doing this. Having a romantic romp on the beach with my boyfriend.”
The word boyfriend shouldn’t send rockets shooting in the sky all around me. I’m a wolf—we don’t date, we mate. But I’m so fucking proud to be that for her, my newly repaired heart almost bursts.
I press my forehead against hers. “Is this romantic? I was hoping, but I wasn’t sure.” There I go again. No game. An alpha male would never admit weakness. Even to his female.
But Layne hasn’t seemed to mind that I’m not an alpha.
“You know what I can’t understand?” I ask.
“What?”
“How every male in a thirty mile radius didn’t beat your door down to claim you. Do you have any idea how hot you look in that bikini?” I’d bought our suits at a swim shop when we arrived, since neither of us had beach provisions.
Layne’s thighs tighten around my waist and she kisses me again. All I can think is that only a scrap of damp fabric is keeping me from exactly where I want to be.
I groan. “Seriously, sweetheart. You’re going to have to stop unless you want me to put you on your hands and knees in the sand and drive home until you scream for mercy.” I let her hips fall lower, bringing the notch between her legs over my hardened cock.
Her inner thighs squeeze again, nipples harden into beads. When she jacks her hips to rub herself against me, I nearly lose my footing. “On second thought, don’t stop. You keep grinding that sweet pussy over my cock and I’ll find a way to let you finish.”
I carry her back toward the shore, scanning the landscape for somewhere, anywhere, I can get her alone, but the beach is packed with people. I change direction and head back in the water, wading until the level reaches our chests. A wave splashes over us and I jump to keep our heads out of it.
“What about here?” I palm her ass and help her grind harder over the bulge in my swim trunks. “Did you ever imagine you’d be fucking your boyfriend in broad daylight in the ocean?”
“No,” she pants. “Is that what we’re doing?”
I search her face, but I see no sign of alarm or reluctance. Only bald desire. I lick the salt water from her neck and thrust against that patch of blue fabric. “I don’t have a condom with me,” I admit reluctantly. I’m not sure it would hold up in the salt water anyway. “But I’ll bet you a hot air balloon ride I can make you come.”
She laughs, her smile lighting her beautiful face. “A hot air balloon ride?” She cranes her neck up as if she might see one now.
It’s what I have planned for the afternoon—a sunset flight over Del Mar—but I need to make sure she’s not afraid of heights or something.
“Bring it on, wolfie,” she murmurs, voice husky.
I shift my hands, which is easy with the water carrying most of her weight now. One palm cups the crack of her ass and I bring the thumb of my other hand to her clit. “You hang onto my neck, sweetheart. If you need to sink those nails into me, feel free. If you want to bite, it’ll only make me work harder for your orgasm, baby.”
Her lids droop. Beads of water cover her face, glistening like diamonds on her eyelids, her cheeks, her lips. She’s a sea-goddess now, the feminine divine.
I wedge my middle finger between her ass cheeks, over her suit fabric, until I find the tight muscles of her anus.
She treats me to a hoarse cry the moment I make contact and I press my advantage by vibrating her clit. She bucks, riding me like a bronco. I alternate teasing her anus and her clit, until she’s moaning, rubbing her fuck-perfect tits against my chest, nails scoring my back.
“Sam.”
“That’s right, sweetheart. Say my name before you come. Remember who marked you.”
“Sam, yes, Sam!” She squeals, convulsing against me, eyes squeezed shut, then flashing wide, as if the force of her orgasm surprised her. “Ohhh, oh.” She moans when it passes, her body relaxing against mine. She bites my ear. “What about you, wolfie?”
“I’m not sure how I feel about you using a nickname Declan coined,” I observe dryly, but a smile tugs at my lips. I carry her out of the water and up the shore, to settle her on the beach towels I bought.
I sit quickly to hide my wood. “I’m going to exact payment from that hot little body of yours later,” I promise.
Her eyes dilate and she licks her lips. “I love it when you make me pay.”
I open the bag of food I bought for our picnic to distract myself from my need to claim her twenty times in rapid succession.
In front of everyone on this beach.
Down, boy. This day is for Layne. I open a carton of strawberries and feed her one, watching the way the juice pools and trickles down her lips. I lick it off, then feed her another.
“I haven’t been in the ocean since my mom,” Layne says.
I go still. “No?”
She shakes her head. “My mom loved the ocean. She used to take me to Baker Beach. We’d stay all day and play in the waves.”
I pick up her hand and squeeze it. “Is it hard? Being at a beach again?”
She shakes her head. “No. It’s perfect. Everything about this day is perfect, Sam. Thank you.” Leaning forward, she kisses the side of my mouth.
I unwrap a sandwich and hand it to her. “There’s more.”
“There is? What?”
“Remember our bet?”
~.~
Layne
I had no idea there a swimming pool could be shaped like a baby grand piano. But there it is. I’m in a hot air balloon looking down into the yards of the rich and famous. Turns out the piano shaped pool was put in by Liberace, but he sold the place years ago.
I hook my hand around Sam’s elbow and stand on my tiptoes to peer over the edge of the basket. “Look at that one!” I exclaim for the forty-fifth time.
Sam’s not looking at the view, he’s watching me. And he’s got this soft, happy look on his face I’ve never seen before.
I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him. “Thank you,” I whisper. There are other people in the basket and I don�
�t want them to hear our private moment. “I know what you’re doing.”
He pulls me up against his lean, powerful frame. “What am I doing?”
“Checking off bucket list items for me.”
His grip tightens and he sucks in a sharp breath, but says nothing.
“If I had a bucket list—which I don’t—meeting you would be a the top of it,” I murmur.
I’ve never been one to spill my guts so easily, but it’s like I can feel the clock ticking down—to my demise. To Sam’s. Because I have a feeling he’s not out of the fray yet. There’s no time to play small. If I want to experience a relationship—experience love—before I die, now is the time.
I’m in a hot air balloon with the most incredible man I’ve ever known.
Sam doesn’t answer, but his breath is labored, as if he’s having a hard time with his emotions. I know my illness is a bitch to accept.
I lay my cheek against his chest and watch the scenery glide by as we float just below the clouds.
“Me too,” he rasps at last.
I look up at him. His blue eyes are clear, but that world of pain I read in them the first time we met is even deeper.
“So our lives are fulfilled.” I’m trying to lighten the mood, but it falls flat. We both stare at each other.
Something inside me is screaming, I’m not done yet! I have more of my life to live! But I don’t get that choice.
I can’t choose it for me, and as much as I want to, I can’t make Sam choose it for himself, either.
12
Sam
I thought I’d suffered enough in this lifetime, but I’m literally dying inside. How could the perfect day with Layne be so beautiful and painful at the same time?
My wolf wants to fight, but there’s no one to tear apart. No one to punish for the illness she’s suffered. The one that will steal her from this life far too soon.
I keep her in my arms or as close to my side for the rest of the adventure—the champagne toast after our landing, and the ride back.
Even so, I’m retreating into myself. Without a fight, my wolf wants the next best thing—to run. The clank of machinery whirs in my ears, getting louder and louder by the minute.
Somehow, I get us back to Laurie’s guest house, but I can hardly hear Layne when she talks, and I have no idea if I even answer.
My phone rings and I pick it up.
“Tell me I’m awesome.” A baby coos behind Kylie’s gloating voice.
I step outside to take the call away from Layne. “What did you find?”
“Another lab. I’m pretty sure it’s headquarters.”
“Where?”
“It’s a private lab, but I’ve got a funding trail that shows money from Mexico and the U.S. Government.”
“Tell me where.” My heart races.
This.
Going after Smyth. This is exactly what my wolf needs. I wanted someone to punish, and now I have him. He’s not responsible for Layne’s illness, but he did send men who tried to kill her. Close enough. This is the one thing I can do to make a difference for Layne. For the world.
“Hang on a sec.”
Jackson gets on the line. “You’re not going in there alone.” He uses his alpha tone with me, which checks my aggression slightly.
“No. I have backup.” It’s not entirely a lie. Nash agreed to go with me.
Jackson is silent for a moment. He probably knows I’m full of shit. “I don’t like this. I want you to wait for Garrett and the pack. They’ll want to be there, too.”
“Where is the fucking lab?” I bite out.
“Temecula.” Reluctance hangs in Jackson’s tone, but I recognize my victory. They’re going to give me the address.
“Garrett and the pack can probably get a flight first thing in the morning. Or they can drive over tonight.”
Fuck that. I’m not waiting until morning.
“Send me the address.” I attempt an alpha tone back at him.
“Don’t go off half-cocked. I know this is personal for you. That’s when you make the worst decisions.”
“Yeah, it is personal. That’s why you’re going to send me that address. Now.”
Jackson curses. I don’t usually get so mouthy with my alpha, which I think is why he knows how important this is to me. “Kylie will text it. Leave your goddamn phone on so we can reach you.”
“I will.” I’m breathless, adrenaline already kicking through my system. “Thanks.”
When I end the call and turn around, I find Layne standing in the doorway, a stricken expression on her face.
Damn. Not the way I wanted to end our date night.
“You’re running off to risk your life again, aren’t you?” Her tone is flat, dead.
Later, I would realize I should’ve paid more attention to her reaction, should’ve listened to the pinpricks of warning tingling my spine. But I’m high on wolf aggression, victory nearly in my jaws.
Layne may not understand, but I’m doing this for her.
“I’ll be careful.” I shove my hands in my pockets.
She steps down from the doorway. “Sam, you don’t have to do this.”
“I have to stop Smyth.”
“I know you do, and I want that, too. But what are the chances of you walking into Smyth’s headquarters and walking out alive?”
I look away. “I’m taking Nash.”
“Seriously?”
“What do you want me to do, Layne? Just give up? This is my whole life.” I make the mistake of glancing at her, just in time to see pain slice across her face.
“I thought I was in your life now.”
“Layne—”
She steps close, puts her hands on either side of my face. “Sam, I love you. I want this for you. Just... don’t throw away your life. Let’s be smart about this. Make a solid plan.”
I close my eyes. Her fingers are so gentle on my face. I breathe in her scent, memorizing her.
“I’m dying, but you don’t have to,” she whispers. “You have so much to live for. Please.”
I step away.
“Sam,” she begs, and I turn from her broken voice.
“I need to do this. I was born in a cage. I swore revenge when I was a teen. I need to see this through.”
“Let us help you. You have people who care about you. Don’t—”
I cut her off. “Stop. I’m not risking anyone else.”
“Just yourself. And Nash.”
“Yeah,” I say. “But it’s our choice.” And we’re expendable.
She lifts her chin. “If you leave, I won’t be here when you get back.”
So this is how it’s gonna be?
“Layne, I need you to stay here. I need to know you’re safe.” I’ll make it up to her when I get back. Just like I did after the fight.
“No. You’re not listening to me, Sam. I’m asking you to make a choice. Me or your half-cocked plan for vengeance.”
“Layne, I have to—”
“Save it.” She holds up a hand. “You can drop me at the airport on your way. I’ll go to London to stay with my dad.”
“Wait—”
“There’s nothing more to discuss. Just let me know when it’s safe to return. If you make it out alive.”
Somehow, I make my lips move. “I will. I’ll make it safe for you.”
“No, don’t pretend this is for me, Sam. This isn’t for me. This is you being selfish and throwing away your life and everything we had.” She shrugs. “But that’s your choice. I choose something different.”
The grinding gears rasp in my ears, making it impossible to think.
Sorrow etches her lovely face. She lays a hand on my chest and some of the noise recedes. “It’s better this way, Sam.” She leans up and kisses my cheek. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to see me die. We have our beach day to remember each other by.”
Pain explodes in my chest, dims my vision. Incredibly, my practical mind still works, even though my body’s gone numb. I c
all Kylie back.
“I need another favor. Can you get a fake passport and plane ticket to London for Dr. Layne Zhao? You should have her information and photo in the file.”
Kylie pauses and I hope to fate she won’t ask anymore, because I’m literally turning to dust here. “I can get that done tonight and have it delivered by tomorrow. Where do you want it sent?”
I blow out a sigh of relief and give her Laurie’s address.
When I hang up, I attempt and fail at offering a smile to Layne. “Kylie will have the passport and plane ticket delivered here tomorrow. Please just stay put and let Laurie protect you until you’re out of the country?”
She nods, once.
“I have cash in the van. I’ll get some for your trip.”
“Thanks.” Her voice is weary. Her face has gone pale. I want to drop to my knees and beg her forgiveness, but I think she might be right.
Even if I do survive my revenge on Smyth, we have no future. I’m too broken a wolf to watch her die. I’d lose the last of my sanity, going crazy because I can’t do anything. And she’d lose her dignity having me watch.
I can hang onto the memory of her happiness today. On the beach. In the hot air balloon.
13
Layne
He gave me the day of my dreams, and he left.
It was all bullshit.
I should be pissed, but I’m not. I’m just tired. Bone tired.
This is the way Dr Layne Zhao’s life ends. Not with a bang, but a whimper.
Okay, now I’m being melodramatic, which is not my style. I pace around Laurie’s tiny guest cottage, picking things up and putting them down again.
I made the right decision. I definitely made the right decision.
Why, then, does my heart feel like it needs help just to beat? Why am I leaking enough tears to float a small boat?
To have swung from such contentment to this can’t be right.
I scrub my face in the bathroom, hoping to wash away the pain, the fear.
Sam might die tonight. Sam might die tonight.
Dear God, don’t let Sam die.
