by V. Vaughn
“Actually, Izzy, it doesn’t. When you’re ready to try something that will, let me know.” He walks off, and silverware clashes on the dinner plates as he clears the table.
I should get up and help, considering he made dinner, and the deal is the cook doesn’t have to clean. I guzzle the rest of my wine and go to the kitchen to take over.
I put my arms around Luke’s waist as he rinses dishes at the sink. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to take it out on you.” I kiss his neck and slide my hand down his pants. His cock twitches against my palm.
“Don’t. Sex isn’t going to chase your demons away.”
“No?” I undo the waistband of his pants with my other hand as I grip his shaft. The skin is hot and silky in my palm. “Then maybe I’ll just have to convince you of the benefits.”
Luke’s chest vibrates as he growls, and he turns around, quickly releasing my hold. He grabs my arms. “Seriously. Every time I try to dig below your surface, this is what you do.”
I drop to my knees and yank his pants down, and his dick springs free. “Doesn’t look like you mind.” I suck him into my mouth before he can protest more.
“Damn it.” He groans and holds my head. He tries to push me away, but I take him so far into my mouth, my lips hit the skin of his groin. Luke shudders and says, “Yeah. You’re right. I don’t mind.”
I let out a low rumble from within as he bumps against the back of my throat. I speak to him in our heads. “That’s it, baby, push it in. Fill me up.”
Luke’s grip on my scalp gets tighter as he pumps his hips. I swallow so that my throat closes around the tip of his cock, and he says, “Jesus, Izzy, what you do to me.” His body begins to quake, and his butt clenches in my hands as he gets closer. When he tries to pull out of my mouth, I don’t let him. I suck harder and drink in his release.
I sit back and wipe my mouth with my arm as he sinks to the floor to face me. “God, I love you.” His strong hands hold my face as he kisses me. “One night of sexual healing, coming up.”
Luke stands as we continue to kiss, and he pulls me up. He scoops me up in his arms as he kicks his pants off his feet. When he drops me onto the bed, the springs squeak. I lean up on my elbows to watch him remove his shirt. “You are so sexy. I want to ravish every inch of you.”
“Uh-uh. My turn.” My mate crawls over me and tugs my yoga pants and thong. When he gets to my feet, he sucks in a toe and sends a shiver down my spine. He bites in teasing, but I wish it was harder.
I throw my head back and whimper for more. Still on my elbows, I arch my back, and my nipples are hard against the cotton of my T-shirt. I didn’t bother putting on a bra after my shower, and I sit up to remove my shirt as Luke moves up my legs with his nipping. He’s using teeth, and I moan as I fall back onto the mattress. When he gets to my inner thigh, he bites hard, and I yelp.
“Too hard?”
“No. That’s what I want. Make me feel, Luke.”
He growls and latches onto my sensitive slit. His tongue thrusts as he sucks my folds. His teeth close around my clit quickly, and the pain gives way to a burning sensation that makes my juices flow. “Don’t stop.”
Luke digs his fingers into my butt, and I squirm in ecstasy at the relief I feel when he lessens his grip. “You like this. Should I spank you?”
“I don’t know.” I’ve never had sex mixed with pain before, but I’m definitely getting off on it.
Luke’s voice is deep when he says, “On your stomach, hands over your head.”
I roll over obediently and am surprised when he slaps my bottom. The sting makes me growl. And my mate rubs where he hit me. I say, “Again.”
“Hold on to the headboard.”
I slide my hands under the wood and grip it tightly.
He slaps the other side, and I groan. “Oh, God.” I gyrate my hips as if I can create the friction I crave. “Touch me.”
His fingers reach between my legs, and I squirm under his touch. He hisses in amazement, “You’re dripping wet.” He removes his hand, and I let out a small noise of disappointment as he commands. “On your knees. And don’t you dare let go.”
Now I moan and say, “Please, Luke. Please.”
“Please what?”
“Hit me harder.”
Luke’s hands stroke my bottom as if he’s trying to erase the mark. “Izzy, you’re already going to have a bruise.”
“Damn it. Just do it!”
He slaps me again, and I growl, “Yes. Again.”
“I—”
“Again!”
This time, he strikes hard and swears. The burn is so sweet, but it’s ruined when the mattress bounces as he gets off the bed.
“What the hell? Where are you going?”
“I can’t do this. I can’t hurt you like this, Izzy. It’s wrong.”
I roll over and notice he’s no longer hard. He’s not the fierce warrior I thought. He shakes his head as he stares at me. I recognize that look. I’m not crazy. Don’t leave.
I sit up and say, “C’mere.”
Luke crawls back on the bed, and I hold my arms open for him. “Come love me.”
This time, my mate is tender, and while my first orgasm is good, it’s not exceptional. My mind drifts away from what’s happening as Luke continues to thrust into me. He rubs my clit and does all the right things to bring me another climax. My body responds, but it’s as if I’m watching us from above. I can’t feel it.
Luke pants out, “I love you, Izzy.” His teeth poke out of his mouth, and he lowers himself to my neck. The moment his canines graze my skin, I flinch away.
“No.”
He pulls back with confusion.
I shake my head as tears form in my eyes, and I whisper, “I mean yes.” The searing heat of his bite gives way to the intense pleasure I crave, and I sink into the abyss of the mate bond.
Chapter 35
Tori
Last Thursday, my internship ended. Keith gave me a hard hat as a going-away gift, and we promised to stay in touch. In a weak moment a few days later, I sent him a text. I invited Keith to my final presentation, and he said yes.
I smooth out my slim-fitting skirt and tug on the bottom of my cropped jacket. “So this isn’t too much for Maine?” I ask Lucy. My suit would fit in perfectly with my mother’s country club crowd, and I don’t want to overdo it for my professor.
“You look smart.”
“Thanks.” She doesn’t know I’ll be seeing Keith and that part of my concern is what he’ll think. I’m hoping he will see me as an equal instead of as a kid.
I grab my bag and leave for class. My heels click down the hall as I remember how to walk in them. When I get outside, the warm breeze blows my hair back and tickles my neck as I run my speech over in my head.
“Tori!”
I glance to my right to find Jax jogging my way. He’s dressed up, too, and he grabs his tie as it tries to swing over his shoulder with the wind. With our busy lacrosse schedules, we don’t see much of each other, and I’ve been able to keep our dating casual.
I stop and wait for him to catch up. He says, “You look fantastic. Final presentation?”
“Yes. You, too?” I really should give this guy more of my time. He’s gorgeous in his suit that must be tailored to his body.
“Naw, I wear this every day.” His eyes dance as he holds out his arm. I hesitate for a second because Keith might see us, but I shake the thought quickly. “Let me escort a beautiful lady.”
When I hook my arm in Jax’s, I notice the pleasant scent of spicy cologne. It’s faint, but since he never wears one, I comment, “You smell good.”
When we get to the door, he holds it open and winks at me. “So do you.”
I wish that adorable gesture made me tremble, but it barely registers on the Richter scale. I point down the hall. “I’m that way.”
He releases me and says, “Upstairs. Go get ’em.”
“You, too.” I make my way to the classroom and enter it to find the t
wo other presenters hovering over the projector. We were all told to come early and make sure our visual aids are in order. I sort out my things and wish them good luck.
A few minutes later, people begin to arrive, and my nerves make my palms sweaty. I’m second in line to speak, so I take a seat in the front row. After the fourth time I swivel around to see if Keith has come, I realize how ridiculous I must look and make myself stop. It doesn’t take long for me to realize I didn’t need to check, because my tattoo begins to itch. When I turn again, I find Keith’s gaze on me as he settles into a seat. He holds up a thumb. I return the gesture before facing front again.
The silly grin on my face would give me away if anyone looked, and my anxiety is overcome by my happiness. The first student’s speech flies by even though he drones on about working in a meat processing plant, because I’m busy reliving the fun I had with Keith.
When it’s my turn, I manage to get through my presentation without missing a beat. I find Keith’s familiar smile encouraging as I share the highlights of my internship at Bear Mountain Lumber, and at the end, he gives me a wink that sends a bolt of lust all the way down to my toes.
Damn it. I’m not doing so well with the crush that can’t be had. When class is over, I make my way to him. He shines like a beacon in the crowd with his strong presence, and I’d be drawn to him even if he were a stranger.
“You were great,” he says. “Even I wanted to do an internship next semester.”
I grin at him. “Thanks. But you deserve all the credit. It was fun because of you.”
When we get to the hall, he steps aside to let students pass. “I’m glad. It’s not often I find someone who likes the way things work the way I do. I enjoyed having you.”
This should be goodbye, but I hang on to the tiny thread left between us. “Can I buy you an ice cream?” I offer a sly smile. “You are missing milk-and-cookie time.”
“Ah… sure. Lead the way.”
When we get outside, the melodic song of birds chirping makes me notice the tiny spring buds are now full leaves. White flower petals are scattered on the ground.
Keith’s face falls as he says, “This is bringing back memories of when I was here. Do they still have black raspberry?”
I wonder if he’s wishing he were younger. “They do. Is that your favorite flavor?”
“Yes.”
My shoes click up the concrete steps to the student union. “Mine, too.”
He smiles, but it’s not quite full. “I should have guessed it. We’re an awful lot alike.”
Yeah, but you still don’t want me. I lead us to the counter, where a plastic window reveals the ice cream. I say, “Two large cones please, black raspberry.” The paper napkins whoosh out of the container as I grab extras and hand them to Keith. I say, “If we’re so alike, you’re going to need these.”
He chuckles, and when he takes them from me, I think he purposely avoids touching me.
Once we have our treats, we go outside, and I walk us over to a bench. I perch on the edge, and when I cross my legs, Keith’s gaze lingers on them. My skirt has hiked up high on my thighs, and I don’t pull it down. I watch him lick his ice cream and wish I could taste his tongue.
He says, “You look so grown-up today.”
I sigh. Obviously, I read his body language wrong, because he still sees me as a child. “I am grown up.”
Keith stops eating and stares at me for a moment before he drops his gaze. “Yes. Yes you are.”
I stare back and do my best impersonation of telepathic communication. Oh Keith, please act on what we have. While I know he didn’t hear me, I could swear he moves in closer. Or maybe I do. His scent is tantalizing, and the little bit of purple ice cream on his lips makes me want to stick my tongue out and lick him. Now I’m sure I lean in closer, and I’m about to close my eyes when he flinches back and laughs as he lifts his cone to show me the drip running down his hand.
Shame burns its way up my neck when I realize he wasn’t going to kiss me after all. I’m so stupid. I take a bite of my cone and crunch it as I fall back on the bench. The metal back of my seat is hard against my shoulder blades.
I gaze ahead to see if anyone watched my embarrassing move, and I notice Jax is walking toward us. I wave my arm as I stand. I say to Keith, “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Jax quickens his step as he comes to us. “How did it go?” he asks.
“Great.” I turn to Keith as he stands. I notice how in his dress shirt and slacks, he’s the magazine-spread fantasy of women compared to Jax, who’d be more likely to grace a gossip rag for girls. I say, “This is Keith. He was my boss.”
Jax sticks out his hand, and I slip my arm around his waist, as if it can erase my blunder, and say, “And this is Jax.”
Keith’s eyes narrow, and I swear a low rumble comes from his chest as he grabs Jax’s hand. I know one comes from Jax, because the vibration hums against me. I glance back and forth between them as they hold on with a death grip longer than they should. What the heck?
I look up at Jax. “So how did your presentation go?”
The guys release each other, and Jax smiles at me. “Really well.” He leans down, and this time, I know I’m going to get kissed. “Black raspberry, yum.” Jax’s lips meet mine, and I open up to it—because this is how it’s supposed to happen.
When we stop, Jax says, “I’ve got to run. Practice is in a half hour.” He turns to Keith. “Nice to meet you, man.”
Keith’s eyes flash with something not quite real, and a chill down my spine makes me shudder.
I say, “I’ve got to get moving, too. Thanks so much for coming.”
“You’re welcome.” Keith reaches for my napkin and wads it up with his to toss it in the garbage can near the bench. “What are your plans for the summer?”
“Don’t know.” I pick up my bag, and the weight of the strap is heavy on my shoulder. “After finals, I’ll be looking for a job. Maybe I’ll go to Boothbay Harbor and wait tables with my sisters.”
“Don’t. Come work for me.”
I blink quickly. “Ah. Are you sure about that?” My heart hops up and down in a jig.
“Yes. If you can’t stay in the dorms, I can help you find a place to live. I think you’d love Maine in the summer.”
Whoa. First he won’t kiss me, and then a little get-even ploy on my part makes him want me to stick around? I don’t know about this.
“Thanks for the offer. I’ll think about it. I really do need to go.” I start to walk backward and say, “I’ll text you. Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome.”
I turn away and avoid shaking off the heat I feel from his gaze as he watches me.
Chapter 36
Annie
Sometimes I amaze myself. I twirl slowly around the pale-pink room that now has three single beds, three dressers, and three bookshelves waiting for little-girl things. I toss a sequin-adorned pillow on one of the beds and want to squeal. I’m about to get three little girls to raise as my own.
I didn’t get this much joy out of decorating Tristan’s mother’s room, and at the moment, I’m ignoring the anxiety I feel about meeting her in less than an hour. The beep of the timer on the stove begins, and it’s incessant, so I make my way downstairs to pull out the blueberry cake I made for the new members of my family.
Tristan sends me a telepathic message. “Just got off the interstate. Be there soon.”
“I’m ready. Anything I should know?”
“They’re tired but seem happy. Tonight should be fine.”
I take a deep breath. That’s good news, and I pull out plates, glasses, and the brightly colored plastic cups I purchased for the girls. I hope they like homemade lemonade, and I wonder if that’s something they drink in the arctic.
The leftover heat from the cake wafts toward me when I open the oven to put the lasagna in to bake for dinner. It’s my go-to meal for welcoming people to my home, and I’ve yet to come across someone who
didn’t like it.
I glance at the bottle of red I have on the counter. I never thought to ask Tristan if his mother drinks. I shake my head, remembering the wine last night that had turned and decide it might be an omen, so I grab the thin neck of the bottle and move it to the pantry. It’s slimy, and I wipe it with a towel quickly. I can always pull it out if we want it later.
When I check on the guest bathroom for the third time, I finally hear the rumble of our Hummer coming up the drive. They’re here. I step out the front door and wait on the porch. Grass is beginning to sprout, and it appears as a faint-green haze hovering over the dirt.
The car stops and ticks for a bit before Tristan opens his door. I move forward to greet my new family members. Three small girls get out in a tangle; they gain their footing, and I notice how thin they are. My nurturing side can’t wait to fatten them up. A woman with hair void of any color takes Tristan’s hand as she stands. She takes me in slowly, and I reach out to her. She appears to be much older than my mother, and she’s not what I expected. Although while I thought her frail, her grip says otherwise when she grasps my fingers and gives me a powerful squeeze. I say, “Mrs. De Rozier. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Call me Helga. Thank you for having us.” She turns to the children. “Girls, introduce yourselves.”
I smile at them as little voices tell me their names. I reply, “Welcome, Ellie, Echo, and Eva. Come on inside and have some lemonade.” Their necks are craned as they stare up at our house. I turn to follow their gaze and imagine my home through their eyes. It does look a bit like a fortress with three stories and oversized doorways to accommodate the height of my fiance and his clan. Even the windows appear impenetrable with the decorative wrought-iron grates.
As we walk up the steps, I turn and ask, “Do you like blueberries?” I get nods and wonder if they’re shy. “Good. Because after dinner, I have blueberry cake for dessert.” And I plan to whip some fresh cream to get more calories into the wee things.
I imagine the kids are hungry, and I offer them a snack as they settle in to play with coloring books and their dolls in the great room. Tristan, Helga, and I retreat to the kitchen. I ask Helga, “Have you ever been this far south?” A plastic tray is slick in my hands as I pull it out for the girls’ food.
