Savage Betrayal: Savage, Book 2

by Shelli Stevens

  “There’s still too many clothes in the way.” She moved off of him to slide out of her pants and underwear.

  Darrius watched her through hooded eyes as he stroked himself.

  Wow, he was big, almost in an intimidating way. But where there was the small shiver of nervousness, there was also the thrill of anticipation.

  Even though she was completely naked, he was nearly fully dressed, with just his erection free from his jeans. Free and standing at attention.

  “I can’t do this.”

  Disappointment ripped through her, and her gaze jerked back to his. “But I thought—”

  “You look so damn beautiful. Like candy laid out just for me. And I’m not taking you without tasting that sweetness first. I want to make you come with my mouth.” He reached beneath the seat and pulled the lever that had his seat pushing back.

  How in the hell was he going to accomplish that? Not that she was complaining, because the idea of him going down on her had her body weeping with excitement.

  Darrius caught her around the waist and maneuvered her so her legs fell over his shoulders and her upper back and head fell against the steering wheel.

  Comfort was the last thing on her mind as his hot breath feathered across her sex.

  “Love that you shave smooth, sugar. You’re my own damn candy shop. Right here.”

  She was so open, so exposed, and her body trembled with anticipation. He made a small grunt of pleasure before burying his mouth between her legs.

  Grace gave a sharp cry, her eyes nearly crossing with ecstasy as his tongue delved deep into her. His words had been the kindling to her fire, but his mouth was the accelerant that set her ablaze.

  She traced trembling fingers over his shoulders, entranced by the sight of his dark head against her pale thighs. He took his time, almost seeming to taste and savor her like the candy he’d compared her to. His tongue slid in and out of her channel and then homed in to tease her clit. Paying special attention to the tiny bud in a way that guaranteed he was going to make her come fast.

  “Oh my God, Darrius.” Her thighs clenched around his head. “You’re way too good at this.”

  He gave a husky laugh and his mouth slid over to her inner thigh to bite lightly. Not hard, but just enough that she knew it would be pink if she could see it.

  “Trust me, you’re not the only one getting pleasure. I want you to come.”

  He didn’t seem to expect a reply, because he went back to tasting her and driving her wonderfully close to that edge of pleasure.

  Cupping her ass in his large hands, he dragged her closer, sealing his mouth tighter to her sex. And when his tongue took the path back to her clit, she was a goner.

  Grace gripped anything she could find to hold on to. The gearshift, the door handle, his thighs, it was all a blur as pleasure slammed into her body again and again.

  There was a woman screaming. It had to be her, right? But the shudders of ecstasy that continued to rack her body made it hard to think straight.

  Finally she became aware that he’d lowered her back onto his lap. Grace dragged in much-needed oxygen, burying her face against his shoulder as she gripped his shirt.

  He moved slightly and she realized he was reaching past her to pop open the glove compartment.

  A condom, she realized, he was putting one on. At least someone had the sense to remember protection.

  “Amazing,” he muttered and slid his hands into her hair, dragging her head down to his so he could kiss her.

  His tongue plunged deep, making her taste herself, and the realization shot her arousal level right back up to scalding level.

  The nudge of his cock at her entrance brought her back to reality a bit, a shiver of anticipation rushed through her.

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” Her cheeks flushed with pleasure, and more than anything she wanted him to just push up and into her.

  “I can’t wait to be inside you.” He kissed her again, lifting his hips to enter her just a tiny bit.

  “Yes. Please.” She tried to ease down onto him, confused at why he was even hesitating.

  “I want you so damn much. But before we go any further I need you to understand that this can never be more than sex.”

  It was almost like he’d injected ice into her heated blood. Her mind struggled to comprehend what he was saying, or more so why he’d be saying it.

  “I—wait, what?”

  He kissed her again, as if trying to keep her distracted. It almost worked, until he lifted his head again.

  “If you’re looking for a mate, then I’m sorry but I can’t offer that.”

  Was she looking for a mate? Had she given off the impression she was looking for something serious? Where was this coming from?

  The fog in her mind lifted enough to think clearly. He’d rattled off those words almost in monotone, like he’d gone into autopilot. They’d barely registered in her fevered brain, like a disclaimer at the end of some prescription drug commercial.

  Which is probably just what he’d intended.

  Her blood began to heat, but for a different reason now.

  “Son of a bitch. You’re reciting this, Darrius,” she growled. “It’s a line you use on every girl you go to bed with, isn’t it?”

  Shock swept across his face, and then the tiniest flicker of guilt that meant she’d nailed it.

  “I’m not one of your usual shifter groupies. You can’t just flash me that charming smile of yours and expect me to fall into bed with you.”

  Wariness flickered across his face now. “Grace, it’s not like that…”

  “Oh really? So how does it work, Hilliard? Do you get a girl so hot and bothered that you know they’ll agree to anything when you spring this on them?”

  When he didn’t immediately answer she climbed off him, knowing his silence was the confirmation she didn’t want to hear. “You know what? Fuck you. Or wait, let me take that back, maybe five minutes ago I would’ve. But now, you can just go to hell.”

  She pulled on her clothes, wishing her hands weren’t trembling so hard from fury. “And I take back my offer to share my bed tonight. You can have the spare room.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Shit. Shit he’d messed up and royally.

  Darrius struggled for the words that would stop her from getting out of the truck. That would convince her he wasn’t a complete bastard.

  But he lacked any because he was one, and he’d just shown his cards to the one girl he really did care about.

  The realization jarred him a bit, until he clarified the thought in his mind. Of course he cared about her, they were friends—he’d held her when she was on the verge of death—only someone without a heart wouldn’t get attached a bit.

  Wincing, he tucked his erection back into his jeans. With a sigh, he tried again. “Grace, we need to talk. I just want you to understand—”

  “Actually, I think you need to understand.” She paused, her hand on the door handle. “All I wanted was an uncomplicated little quickie to distract me from a pretty shitastic day. I wanted it from a guy I trusted and whom I was attracted to.”

  And there she went laying it all out on the table. She trusted him and was attracted to him—that much sent a sizzle of triumph through him.

  But she wasn’t after permanent. It should’ve been a relief, but disappointment stung slightly. Which made absolutely no sense. Confused, he tried mentally to shrug it off. He couldn’t claim her as his mate—he couldn’t claim anyone. So why should he be disappointed that she only wanted sex?

  “You were looking like you might be that guy,” she continued and shook her head. “Well, right up until you started treating me like your flavor of the week.”

  He gave a small laugh, but wasn’t the least bit amused. “Are you trying to inflate my ego, or kill it?”

  “I don’t think it can get any bigger.” She scowled and opened the door. “But, don’t worry, I’ll figure out another way to
burn off this frustration.”

  The jealousy that rose inside him was instantaneous and violent. The wolf inside him went primal, possessive, and acted on instinct alone.

  Before Grace had even slid one leg out the door of his truck, he’d moved across the seat to stop her.

  With an arm wrapped around her waist to restrain her, he lowered his head to nuzzle the back of her neck.

  “No need to rush off.”

  “Oh, there’s every need.” Her voice, husky with anger and desire, washed over him and upped his need for her.

  “You can’t honestly think I’ll let you go out to find another man tonight, sugar?” Wanting to prove just how easily he could have her, he slid his hand upward and into the blouse she hadn’t buttoned. “If you need help burning off energy, then I’ll be the one to do it.”

  “The hell you will.” She tried to tug away, but he tightened the arm around her waist. “Darrius.”

  His intention had been to force her to stay and listen. But now, with his hand in her shirt and the soft warmth of her breast against his knuckles, he couldn’t resist. He cupped her breast again, testing the weight and fullness of it in his palm, before capturing the nipple that rose to greet his fingers.

  She let out a ragged breath. “You don’t play fair. At all.”

  “And I’ll never claim to.” His lips brushed the back of her neck. Someday, some man would bite that sexy neck, and claim her as a mate. It wouldn’t be him though.

  The realization made his heart pinch and he drew in a ragged breath.

  “I need you to listen to me.”

  “Fine. I’m listening, but do you have to touch me at the same time?”

  “I wish I could stop.” He moved his hand to tease the other breast.

  Unwanted triumph swept through him as a shiver ran through her body and she couldn’t seem to stifle her moan.

  He wanted this woman, probably more than he could remember wanting a woman, which shouldn’t have been possible. And the idea of hurting her made everything inside of him cringe. Larson was right. Grace was still vulnerable at the moment, even if she denied it.

  So why don’t you let her go inside? Leave her alone? His conscience barraged him, but letting her go would be like denying himself oxygen right now.

  He settled for honesty, she deserved that much. As much as he was loath to stop touching her, he released the sweet little breast cradled in his hand and turned her on his lap so he could look in her eyes.

  “I shouldn’t have pulled that shit with you, Grace. Shouldn’t have used that line—because you’re right, it was one.”

  She tensed and he sensed the immediate change in her, the animosity radiating in waves now—the unhappiness in her eyes.

  “You should’ve known me better.”

  “I did. I do. Shit.” He released her enough to rub the back of his neck. “Maybe it is a line, but it’s also the truth. I would hate myself if I hurt you. And I know by us getting involved that’s always a risk.”

  She paused, seemed to reflect on his words. “What you did hurt me more than any risk of us getting involved.”

  “I realize that now, and I’m sorry.” He pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen across her cheek. “I completely own up to being an asshole. Give me another chance.”

  Her gaze slid to his mouth and she swallowed visibly. “I have a feeling you wouldn’t let me walk away, even if I wanted to.”

  Impossible. He couldn’t let her walk away from whatever they had right now. “I’d do everything in my power to stop you.”

  “I understand why you need to clear the air with women. Why you’re up front that it’s a no-strings-attached thing.”

  Her words, maybe unintended, came at him like unpulled punches. Hitting hard and deep, and leaving him strangely hollow and weary. Darrius Hilliard, the constant flirt. The player who all the girls wanted. It was the reputation he’d earned himself. It was half truth, half illusion.

  “And no strings is exactly what I’m looking for right now.” She seemed to falter, search for words. “My job, my sister, those are the priorities in my life right now. I’m too young, too busy, for serious right now.”

  The fact that she was so young was another reason he’d been hesitant to get involved with her. What if she got emotionally attached? What if she’d wanted more?

  “When things started heating up between us, I knew exactly what that meant. It’d be casual. You’re Darrius Hilliard—you don’t do serious.”

  More punches that were well earned. Usually he just rolled with them and claimed the philanderer status that had been cast on him so long ago. It almost was his identity now, when initially he’d embraced it to deal with the pain.

  If she only knew…

  “But one day, it’s going to happen.” Her smile wavered slightly as she lifted her gaze to look at him again. In her eyes now, a glimmer of sadness. “You’ll think she’s just another lover, but you’ll realize she’s your mate. And you’ll be completely blindsided, because all these years you’ve been emotionally pushing women away.”

  “Grace.” The truth was coming now, there was no stopping it. It rode in on a tidal wave of emotion, driven by her gently chastising words.

  “Look, maybe you don’t want to hear it, but it’s true. You’re not exempt from falling in love, Darrius.”

  “Grace, listen to me. I can’t have you as my mate—or any other woman for that matter.” So few people knew the truth, and many had forgotten.

  Irritation flashed in her eyes and she shook her head. “Seriously? It means that much to you? To maintain this playboy lifestyle and—”

  “Grace, I’m already mated.”

  It was almost like having her head slammed into the ground all over again, only without the crushing pain. At least to her skull.

  Grace blinked, stunned and disorientated. She tried to latch on to his words—make sense of what he’d said. But they swirled around in her mind like a verbal tornado, too fast to grasp or comprehend.

  Her gaze was frozen on the curve of his lips, which were now compressed into a tight line. But she kept hearing that phrase over and over again.

  I’m already mated.

  It couldn’t be possible. She would’ve known, wouldn’t she have? People would have told her.

  “But just a few minutes ago we almost… You made me…” She trailed off numbly, unable to even speak the words.

  Darrius was mated. She’d almost made love to a mated man? Had let him bring her to orgasm, when he already had a mate?

  “I’m going to be sick.” She fumbled for the door handle, desperate to get away from him. To breathe in the cool air that would contrast against her flushed skin.

  The iron-like arm around her waist halted her, dragging her back against her will.

  “Grace, wait.”

  “Let me go.” She slapped at his arm. Tried to pry his fingers off her one by one.

  But when it was clear he wouldn’t release her, she went limp against him, unable to stop the small furious sob.

  Though his body front was pressed flush against her back, and the arm around her waist was dangerously close to her breasts, he made no move to touch her further.

  His words were a soft tickle on her ear as he murmured, “Calm down a second, and I’ll explain.”

  “Explain? I hate you so much right now,” she seethed. “You’ve never been monogamous in the time I’ve known you. I almost let you fuck me in the front seat of your truck. You’re staying with me. Protecting me. So unless your mate is dead, there’s not a lot hell of a lot you can say to explain.”

  He stilled, seemed to hesitate. “Well, you got it. She’s dead.”

  The fight left her with the swiftness of a water balloon hitting pavement. She let the heaviness of his words sink in.

  How had she not known about this? Did anyone at the agency know?

  Grace wiggled in his grasp, needing to see him to have the rest of this conversation. He eased his grip on her and
didn’t protest as she turned to face him.

  Even in the darkness of the truck, her gaze sought his. She looked for anguish there, or at least a hint of pain. There was a tinge of sadness, but the emotion that shone the most was weariness.

  “How come you’ve never said anything? I had no idea.”

  “Most people don’t. It was a long time ago.” He sighed. “We were teenagers when we mated, both just eighteen.”

  Layers. There were so many layers to this man, and she was only now realizing it. The world saw Darrius Hilliard as a charming, funny playboy who only went skin deep. And apparently he’d been happy to let people make their assumptions, her being one of them. But now the truth was coming out as each layer was pulled back.

  “How long were you mated?”

  “Only a few months. ”

  Her heart pinched as she imagined how strong his grief must’ve been—how much it likely still affected him, even if he hid it now.

  His mate had died young. For humans, it would’ve meant Darrius getting on with his life and maybe finding another person to love. But he wasn’t human, and claiming a mate went so much deeper than love.

  Shifters, when they mated, mated for life. You were connected to that person on a soul-deep level until you met again in the afterlife.

  And they’d only had a few together…

  She caught his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m so sorry.”

  His lips twisted, almost bitterly and he shook his head. “It was years ago—water under the bridge now. I’ve accepted that my future isn’t like everyone else’s. That’s why when I get involved with a woman, I give them the same warning.”

  “Understandable.” And it was. Explaining a dead mate every time he met another woman was probably far too painful. Was he trying to exorcise the pain—forget the gaping emptiness of a mateless future?

  His choices and the women he’d bedded weren’t for her to judge, but she almost understood them better now.

  “You’re not the only shifter to have lost a mate,” she said hesitantly, tracing her finger over the palm of his hand. “Has there ever been a case of a shifter re-mating with someone new?”

  Darrius gave a slight nod. “A handful, but it’s almost an anomaly, really, and usually there ends up being some reason why the first mating never took. But it gave me hope. For fifteen years, I’ve dated, I’ve been with women, but it’s never happened.”