by Rayna Tyler
“Thank you,” Reese said, clapping a hand on my shoulder, then moving into the spot next to Nick.
I nodded, as no verbal response was required. Reese already knew I’d risk my life to protect Berkley.
Bryson, who remained hovering near the door like a sentry, crossed his arms and grunted in Berkley’s direction.
“Hello to you too,” she replied with a smile, the first one I’d seen since she’d been shot.
I wasn’t threatened or jealous by the way she responded to the overgrown bear. Bryson had become a part of their extended family long before I’d arrived, and she treated him the way she did her brothers.
It was amusing to watch the normally stoic male struggle to keep from grinning.
Reese squeezed her hand, his gaze darting to Mitch. “How bad is it?”
“It could have been a lot worse, but she’ll be fine.” Mitch took the next few minutes to explain what he knew about the poison and his requirements for her recovery.
Berkley widened her eyes as if she’d remembered something important. “Reese, give me your phone.”
“Why?” Reese asked, but didn’t remove his cell from his pocket. “Were you planning to call Mandy? If so, she already knows what happened, Nick filled her in before we headed over here.”
“No, I need to call Abby. I was supposed to help her with lunch.”
I understood Berkley’s concern. Abby was a sweetheart—most of the time. But piss her off, and you’d regret it for weeks. The female had an uncanny ability to apply guilt more effectively than a trained knight could wield a sword.
Reese placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Wipe the panicked look off your face. I took care of it.”
“You did…how?” Berkley narrowed her gaze, seemingly unconvinced.
“Don’t worry, I stayed out of the kitchen. I had Paul help her. He’s been bugging me to do more than wash dishes, so I gave him a chance to prove himself.”
Reese was a natural leader, one of the many things I admired about him. He was also a fair boss who believed in giving his employees an opportunity to succeed. Paul was a lanky, freckle-faced wolf shifter who didn’t let his teenage awkwardness keep him from charming all the females at the lodge. He also worked hard, did a good job, and I was glad to hear that Reese had taken a chance on the kid.
“Okay.” There was a hint of skepticism in the way Berkley drew out the word. “What did you find out about the shooter?” She spoke to Nick. “Did you get a good scent? Any idea who it was so we can go after him?”
“Slow down, Berkley,” I interrupted. “You heard what the doc said. You aren’t going to do anything.”
“But I’m the one who got shot, and…” She glared at Reese, Nick, and me in turn.
“No buts,” Reese said. “We don’t know who did this, or why. And until we do…” He pointed at me. “Your mate is going to make sure you follow the doctor’s orders.”
Satisfaction seeped through my pores. I couldn’t resist flashing Berkley a wide-toothed grin or placing my fingertips under her dropped jaw when she groaned.
Chapter Twelve
BERKLEY
Considering I was supposed to be resting, my room had seen more visitors in the last few hours than it had in months. I couldn’t prove it, but I had a strong suspicion that a certain deviously handsome male who could shift into a cat was behind it. Though Preston’s visits were short and numerous, they were very attentive.
He didn’t have a problem perching next to me on the bed, finding any reason to caress my arm or absently twirl my hair around his finger. What he didn’t do, which had me frustrated to the point of screaming, was do something about the arousal he’d started.
Mandy and Nick, who I assumed had also been drafted by Preston to participate in the make-sure-Berkley-doesn’t-leave-her-room crusade, were the last to leave. They’d arrived bringing me dinner, then stayed long into the evening until I finally kicked them out, telling them I was going to take a shower and go back to bed. Hopefully, to get some sleep this time.
I lifted the hem of my nightgown and removed the gauze. The skin around my wound was now a healthy pink, not the ugly red from earlier in the day. Thanks to Mitch’s handiwork, it was healing nicely and no longer needed to be wrapped. There was going to be a scar, but it would be faint, barely noticeable.
It had been hours since I’d seen Preston, and I presumed his extended absence was because he was helping Reese track down my shooter without me. A fact that wasn’t helping my current agitated state. Before he’d left, Preston had pressed a kiss to my forehead, then told me to let him know if I needed anything. What I needed, and wanted, was him, in my room and in my bed. The longer he stayed away, the more irritated I got.
My wolf was even worse. Her impatience had her snarling and pacing. She’d grown tired of waiting, didn’t want to be confined, and was throwing a tantrum about being separated from her mate. She was all for tracking him down and moving on with the claiming.
Faced with a life-threatening situation gave me a lot of time to think, to reevaluate what was important to me. It took almost losing my life to realize how badly I wanted Preston. Most males would have pushed for a claiming by now, but Preston had shown great restraint in giving me the time and space I needed.
From the first moment he’d entered the lodge and Reese had introduced us, Preston had known I was his mate. The recognition was in his scrutinizing gaze, yet he hadn’t said a word. He could have pushed the issue numerous times, but he hadn’t. Even during our encounter at the bar, when he’d given me the best orgasm of my life, he could have coaxed me into letting him claim me, but he’d waited. He was still waiting. Waiting for me to be ready, to accept him for who he was as a man, not because we were a destined match.
Preston was loyal, trustworthy, the complete opposite of Drew. He’d do everything in his power to protect those he cared about, and he’d put me at the top of the list. He might be arrogant, smug, and irritate the heck out of me, but he possessed all the qualities of a true mate—a mate I wanted more than my next breath.
PRESTON
Time had gotten away from me, and my plans to check on Berkley one more time before retiring, along with it. Nick had checked in to let me know his sister was taking a shower and going back to bed to get some sleep. I’d have loved to curl up next to her, spend the night holding her in my arms, but didn’t think I’d have the self-control to stop there. Not with my cat riding the thin line between wanting to claim his mate and protecting her from anyone who even looked at her the wrong way.
I finished squeezing the excess water from my hair and draped the towel over the rim of the bathtub. The shower hadn’t helped the anxiety I’d been experiencing since Berkley had been shot. Spending time with her throughout the day had been torturous. All I’d been able to think about was tasting those full lips again, stripping her naked, and showing her how much she meant to me.
Berkley, with her scent of arousal, hadn’t exactly made it easy. Neither had my cat or my constantly straining erection. She’d done her best to tempt and coax me into playing. It had been a struggle, a monumental battle, but I’d done my best to make sure it hadn’t happened—barely.
She needed time to heal, and I needed to find her shooter. Reese and I spent the remainder of the evening researching the poison from what little information Mitch was able to provide us. The only tidbit our sources were able to glean was that obtaining the deadly toxin was hard, but not impossible if you knew the right contacts and could afford to purchase it.
As for the shooter, we had his scent but no other clues. Thinking Desmond Bishop might be responsible was getting us nowhere. So far, everyone we’d contacted still hadn’t heard anything about the man’s reappearance.
That left us with Eli Thompson. Since he’d been setting traps near that area, he wasn’t exactly a suspect, but he might have seen someone or have an idea who else was hunting in our area, which was why Reese and I were going to pay Al and him a visit first th
ing in the morning. It might be a wasted trip, but we needed to check out every clue possible, no matter how fruitless they appeared.
It was late to have my ponderings interrupted by a knock on the door. At first, I thought it might be someone from my crew, then dismissed the notion. They would have tried the radio first, and even in the shower, I’d have heard the device squawking. The same went for the cell I’d left on the stand, but I automatically gave it a glance anyway. No messages meant no emergencies.
During my last conversation with Reese, I’d told him to let me know the minute he learned anything about the shooter. Maybe he’d gotten some new information and had decided to deliver it in person. I grabbed the old pair of sweats I’d left on a chair near the dresser, then opened the door.
Berkley was standing in the hallway in nothing but a thin silky nightgown that exposed a portion of her full breasts and barely hit her thighs. Was the woman trying to kill me? Did she know how beautiful she was, or how tempted I was to pull her into my room? “Hey, sweetness, what are you doing out of bed? Is everything all right?”
I’d told her to let me know if she needed anything and immediately assumed something was wrong. I glanced at her leg, hoping there wasn’t a problem with her wound. She’d removed the gauze, exposing her healing injury. I hated seeing the long line marring her beautiful flesh. It reminded me how badly I wanted to find the person responsible for putting it there.
“I’m fine.” She stepped closer, so close I could smell a hint of the jasmine body wash she’d recently showered with, along with the increasing scent of her arousal. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you earlier for…you know…everything you did.” She glanced past my shoulder. “Can I come in?”
The sultry way she lowered her eyelids and bit her lip was my undoing. I didn’t need to look down to know the front of my sweats were tenting. I swallowed a groan, using all my strength to keep my arm braced against the doorframe to keep her out. “Berkley, honey, I only have so much willpower. My cat is too close to the surface and wants his mate. If I let you into my room, you won’t be leaving until morning.” Or ever, if I had anything to say about it.
“I know.” She skimmed her fingertip along my chest, the nail sharp enough to cause a shudder and leave a trail of heat in its wake. She managed to draw out my silenced groan and destroy the last of my willpower along with it. When she pressed on my arm to move it aside, I was helpless to stop her from walking into my room.
BERKLEY
Preston was mistaken if he thought he was going to keep me from getting what I wanted by gripping the doorframe and keeping me out of his room. I’d seen the desire flickering in his gaze, the darkening emerald glow courtesy of his cat. I also scented his arousal, knew he wanted me as much as I wanted him, but was straining to maintain control.
“I know,” I said with confidence and watched his honorable resolve slowly slip away as I ran my fingertip along his chest. He shuddered beneath my touch, making it easy for me to remove his grip on the frame, then slip past him into the room.
I stopped near the edge of the bed, smiling when I heard the door close and Preston walk up behind me. He slipped one arm around my waist, pulling me back against his chest. “Are you sure?” His whispered voice was deep, gravelly, laced with trepidation, and created shivers where his warm breath caressed my skin. It was endearing to hear him give me one last chance to change my mind, but it wasn’t going to happen.
I turned within his grasp, running my hands along his shoulders. It was time to give him the words he’d been patiently waiting to hear. “You are my mate. I’m in love with you and have never been more sure of anything in my life.”
My affirmation was all it took to push him over the edge, to be the recipient of his demanding kiss. A powerful kiss, one that released all the passion we’d carefully reserved for each other over the months since we’d first met. It was coaxing, teasing, possessive. The way Preston’s mouth consumed mine stole my ability to process any coherent thoughts and left me gasping.
By the time his lips left mine, I was in dire need of more. My body was ablaze with heat, and I wanted my nightgown gone. I wanted, no, needed, to feel his skin against mine. Most of all, I wanted him inside me, to satisfy the ache rippling through my core.
I nuzzled the side of his neck, grazing the skin along the sensitive area at the base of his throat. The place where I planned to leave my mark on him. He responded with a growl, tightening the grip around my waist, his erection rubbing against my midsection.
Not all females participated in the ritual by marking their mate with a bite. It was more common for the male, most notably the dominant ones, to be the only one to initiate a claiming and leave their mark.
Not in this case. I was every bit as dominant as Preston and planned to be an active participant. I wanted every female who came in contact with him to know that he and his cat belonged to my wolf and me.
I couldn’t resist taunting him. “Are you going to purr for me, Pres?”
“Sweetness, I’m going to do a whole lot more than purr.” He grabbed my ass, hiking me up his body until I wrapped my legs around his waist.
I giggled, loving the way his accent got thicker the more aroused he got. “Promises, promises.” I nipped his skin a little harder.
“Temptress,” he muttered and pivoted toward the bed. I squealed when he tossed me in the air to land in the center of the mattress. His sweats were off in an instant. Being embarrassed around a naked male had never been a problem. Nor was taking the time to admire his narrow hips, his thick muscled thighs, and the impressive erection meant entirely for me.
I rolled onto my knees and pulled the gown over my head. Before I could remove my panties, he pounced on the bed and pressed me back into the mattress.
“Allow me.” He hooked the fabric at my hips, then slowly tugged my underwear along my legs, careful to avoid touching my injury. After tossing the panties over his shoulder, he spread my legs, then hovered over me, pressing kisses to my skin, slowly working his way from my belly to my breasts.
He sucked a nipple into his mouth, teasing the tip with his tongue, almost to the point of torture. I fisted the comforter and arched my back to give him better access.
My body was on fire, responding with a needy ache growing rapidly between my legs and craving release. I was past the point of foreplay. I was ready, so ready, and wanted him inside me.
Now.
“Please, Pres, I need you.”
“In a hurry, sweetness?” he murmured against my skin, then latched on to my other breast, giving it the same torturous treatment he’d lavished on the other.
Yes, damn it. I wiggled my hips, angling his cock toward my entrance.
He chuckled, then slid the tip along my seam. “So wet,” he murmured, then covered my lips with his mouth, capturing my moan as he entered me with a hard, deep thrust. A thrust so perfect, so right, it had me teetering on the edge of an orgasm.
Now that he was driving into me at a steady pace and claiming my body, I wanted him to claim me as his mate. “Bite me, Pres.”
When my request went unanswered, I decided to take control. On his next thrust, I descended my fangs and sank them into the fleshy muscle at the base of his neck. At the same time, I wrapped my legs across the backs of his thighs and sank my fingernails into his back, making it hard for him to pull away from me.
He froze and growled, “Fuck, Berkley.”
I wanted him to know I was serious in case his refusal to act was based on his assumption that I wasn’t ready for a lifetime commitment. I deepened the bite, refusing to relinquish my hold.
The rumble vibrating from his chest came from his cat. His animal had come out to play, and there was no way he’d refuse his mate’s claim. An instant later, he branded my shoulder with his teeth, the sharp pain turning to pleasurable torment and radiating straight to my core.
I growled, arched against him, and dug my heels into his ass. I was so close to the edge that another hard,
pounding thrust was all it took for me to plunge into orgasmic bliss.
He continued driving into me, drawing out one exquisite wave after another until he reached the pinnacle of his own release. He collapsed on top of me, his breathing heavy, his sweat-coated skin sliding against mine.
When our breathing finally returned to normal, he rolled onto his back, taking me with him. I released a contented sigh and rested my head on his shoulder.
For the longest time, Preston swirled a lock of my hair around his finger, studying it intently as if he were entranced by the color and texture. “Berkley,” he finally said.
“Hmm.” I smiled and tipped my head to meet his gaze.
“I love you too.”
Chapter Thirteen
PRESTON
I’d been sitting at my desk and staring out the window for over an hour, playing over all the facts Reese and I had gathered, which wasn’t much. All I could think about was Berkley, how close she’d come to being killed. The fact that I still had no idea who’d shot her, or why, grated along every nerve in my body.
The only thing easing my stress was knowing she was finally mine. It brought a wide grin to my face, and I absently rubbed the patch of skin where the minx had claimed me. The bite was almost healed, but the scar I proudly displayed would be there forever.
If she hadn’t been so adamant about getting back to work instead of taking another day to rest, I’d have gladly found a way to keep her in bed all day. The upside to having the stubborn female for a mate was knowing when I went to bed at night, she’d be sharing it with me.
A knock on the office’s open door drew me from my thoughts. I swiveled my chair to find Reese standing in the doorway.
“You got a minute before we head over to Al’s place?” He didn’t wait for an answer before coming inside, then closing the door behind him. He walked over to the empty chair opposite my desk, acted as if he was going to take a seat, then tucked his hands in his pockets and remained standing.
