Moon Bound

by Stephanie Julian

  The knock on the door startled them both.

  Bella turned toward the door and drew in a deep breath. “Steven. Are you ready?”

  She nodded, not really ready at all.

  Bella sat up, grabbed her hand and squeezed. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t let Diego walk all over you.”

  Amy Jo’s lips curled in a smile. “You don’t have to worry about that. I can handle him.”

  * * *

  “Don’t worry. I’ll handle her.”

  Diego remembered saying those exact words to Steven before they’d gone their separate ways. He’d meant them, too.

  But an hour later, he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to live up to it. And Diego was nothing if not a man of his word.

  “I’m assuming you and Marco are brothers. Bella told me you’re an Iberian lynx. Does that mean Marco is, too? What do you look like when you’re changed? I mean, lynx aren’t that big, are they? Not like lions. Do you shrink to average size or what?”

  Why the hell had he agreed to Marco’s suggestion that they keep the hotel rooms for a few more hours to get some sleep?

  Well, that one was simple. Marco had needed the rest. His skin looked ashen beneath his tan and he probably ached all over from the crash. Not that he’d ever admit it.

  No, Marco had taken the easy way out and suggested it for Amy Jo’s sake. From the bed, the tiny blonde now stared at him, sitting on the chair along the wall.

  Cross-legged in khaki shorts that barely covered her ass and a blue t-shirt with no bra, she had huge blue eyes and a growing bruise on her chin. A bruise he’d put there.

  “So do you?”

  He blinked and tried to focus on her question, settling farther into the chair he’d pulled to the bedside. “Do I what?”

  She rolled her eyes and waved her hands in the air for some reason he couldn’t decipher. “Do you shrink to normal lynx size? Aren’t you listening to a word I say?”

  Yeah, he was, but her words and their meaning got lost in the sweet drawl of her voice, the one that wrapped itself around his cock like a fist and squeezed.

  Damn, he really didn’t need to be thinking like that. “No, I don’t shrink. I’m larger than the average lynx.”

  Her gaze dropped to his shoulders then continued on to his chest and down to his lap. He refused to shift in his seat like a nervous kid, though she’d probably already noticed his growing erection, becoming more painful by the minute.

  As was the throbbing in his head. He couldn’t shake the headache from healing Bella. Maybe Marco had been right to suggest the rest. Of course, Marco was asleep in the next room and here he sat, captivated by a woman he should have no interest in whatsoever.

  All the biters Diego had ever known were unstable. Of course, they had all been men. He’d never known a woman who’d survived the process. Hell, he’d never met a male biter who retained the mental capabilities Amy Jo had. She was one of a kind.

  “You should probably get some sleep while you can.” He tried not sound as desperate as he was starting to feel. “We’ll be on the road for at least seven hours.”

  Her lips twisted in a grimace. “I can’t seem to settle down. Aren’t you tired?”

  He wondered what she’d say if he told her what he really wanted to do. With her.

  He shook his head.

  She shrugged. “Me either. I can’t seem to shut off and I know when I get over-stimulated I tend to talk too much. So, about your dad—”

  He slashed a hand in front of him, stopping her words. “That subject is not open for discussion. I really think you need to get some sleep.”

  She fell silent then, her head cocked to the side watching him.

  “What about your mom?”

  He wondered what she’d do if he pulled out the duct tape he never left home with out and put it over her mouth? Or if he just put his mouth over hers and kissed all the talk out of her?

  “Dead. So is our father. Marco’s mother is still alive. She hates me.”

  Her full pink mouth tilted in a sympathetic smile. “So you are brothers?”

  He sighed, realizing she wasn’t going to give up on this. “Look, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll answer your questions—if you answer mine.”

  She fell silent and he let himself relax. He knew she’d never—

  Then her bruised chin popped up. “Okay, you’re on. But I get to ask the first questions.” Without taking a breath, she barreled on. “Are you and Marco brothers?”

  That was easy. “Yes.”

  “So—”

  “Ah.” He held up his hand. “My turn.”

  Amy Jo huffed and crossed her arms under her breasts, forcing them into plump mounds beneath the top, making his mouth go dry. “Oh, go on then.”

  She tried to sound offhand but he heard fear in her voice. He knew she thought he was going to ask about that night in Central Park. Part of him did want to know what had happened. What those animals had done to her. He wanted to know so that when he found them, he would know exactly why he was ripping their still-beating hearts out of their chests.

  But he didn’t want her to fear him. Gods, no. What he wanted he couldn’t even put into words in his own head.

  “How did you manage to stay sane through the transformation process? I know how hard it can be on a woman.”

  Her head tilted to the side. “How do you know that?”

  “Answer my question first.”

  “Then mine doesn’t count.”

  She fell silent and he knew she was waiting for him to agree to her terms. He contained his smile. “Fine. Your question doesn’t count.”

  “Okay then.” Another deep breath as she turned to stare at the wall. “Honestly, I can’t say that I did. Stay sane, I mean. There are moments during the day when I can’t be sure if I’m dreaming or if I’m just crazy. I have this incredible sense of smell now. That actually took the longest to get used to. I kind of expected my eyesight to get better as well, but that didn’t happen.”

  She looked at him as if for an answer to her unspoken question, but he wasn’t going to make it so easy on her. Truth be told, he wanted her to keep talking.

  When he didn’t speak, she shrugged. “Anyway, after that first night, when I realized something had happened to me and I couldn’t ignore it, I bought the biggest dog cage I could find, locked myself in it in my bedroom on the first night of the next full moon and made sure I could see myself in the mirror. I figured I had two possibilities. One, I was crazy but not because I was actually becoming a wolf on the nights of the full moon. Or two, that I had an even bigger problem.”

  “You’re not married.”

  He didn’t make it a question but she answered it as if he had. “Tying myself to a man isn’t high on my to-do list. Where I come from, you get married because you want to get out of your parents’ house or you get yourself knocked up. I was a freak because I wanted to go to college.” She shrugged, as if what she wanted hadn’t been much of a consideration and turned back to meet his gaze. “So I left. What about you, Pretty Boy? Why aren’t you married yet?”

  “Who says I’m not?”

  She smiled, one that light up those blue eyes. “Ah-ah-ah, no answering a question with a question.”

  He swore his heart skipped a beat. Damn but her smile was addictive. “Let’s just say I haven’t found the right woman yet.”

  “And who would that be?”

  “Are you volunteering for the job?”

  Shit, how the hell had that slipped out? Of course, that didn’t mean he didn’t want to hear her answer.

  Her head tilted to the side again, considering. “Would I fit the role, your highness?”

  Yesterday, he would’ve had no qualms telling her precisely why she would never be able to fill that role. Today…

  “From the day I was born, my father drilled into my head the need to continue the bloodline by marrying a woman of noble birth. In our world, that means a member of a ruling family who can trace her line
age back to at least the tenth century. To make sure the blood remained pure.” Anger rose as he remembered exactly the words his father had used, words that had had everything to do with control. “My mother was the last-born child of her line, as was my father. They did their duty by producing me.”

  Amy Jo’s blue eyes dimmed considerably. “Sounds cold.”

  “It was.” He’d never admitted that before. Not even to himself. “They lived in the same building but it was like two strangers sharing the space.”

  “Did they love you?”

  He snorted. “They loved what I represented.”

  Compassion shone in the depths of those blue eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

  Damn it, this woman should not be able to make his heart beat faster and his blood burn like it was lava. “Are you and Marco close?”

  Now that was a million-dollar question and one that should’ve made him shut off his verbal diarrhea. But those eyes… “I would like us to be. I love my brother even though I didn’t know he existed until he was fourteen.”

  She paused and he knew she was picking through words carefully. “How did you find out?”

  “We met over my father’s grave.”

  That silenced her for a few seconds. “Gee, you two have some history, don’t you?”

  He nodded, his gaze still locked on hers. “You could say that.”

  “My daddy left after my mom had me, so I guess I could have other brothers or sisters out there in addition to the three I already know about. Guess you weren’t all that happy to find out that way, huh?”

  “It wouldn’t have been my first choice, no. But I am happy to have him.”

  Especially since a bit of the pressure to produce an heir had settled onto Marco’s shoulders, as well. He just wished they could find a way past all the rest of the bullshit their father had left them with.

  He wondered what Marco would say if he told him how much guilt he felt for the way Marco had been treated by his father. How much he felt he had to atone for.

  “You’re happy not to be the only one any more, aren’t you?”

  This woman was much more perceptive than he gave her credit for. Something else to add to the increasingly delectable puzzle of Amy Jo.

  Maybe a little sex would help them both sleep.

  The idea had been sitting on the back burner of his brain since he’d walked into her room to babysit. He’d tried to ignore it, dismiss it, shame himself into denying just how much he was attracted to her.

  But he couldn’t deny himself any longer. He leaned forward, her eyes widening as he came closer then ran one finger down her jaw. “Does this hurt?”

  He could have sworn she shivered before she leaned away. She wasn’t unaware of him, either.

  “Like a bitch.”

  He smiled at her phrasing. “I am sorry about that, but we couldn’t give you another Bullet. Do you want me to heal it?”

  She didn’t answer right away, sucking in her bottom lip to bite on it. “Will you be okay afterward? I mean, I don’t want to hurt you like you were after healing Bella. I can live with a bruise.”

  Gods be damned. The woman might just as well throw him on the bed and jump him. He wanted her. Knew it was just a matter of time. And why not? They were adults and sex was serious stress relief. But was she able to even think about sex, after what those monsters had done to her?

  He let his lips lift in an approximation of a smile. “I’ll be fine. It won’t hurt. It’s magic.”

  Her easy smile answered his. “I bet that’s what all the shapeshifters say.”

  “Amy Jo.”

  Her eyes widened even more. “Yeah?”

  “Shut up.”

  He reached out to cup her jaw in both hands. Her skin felt like silk beneath his, her warmth making his fingers itch to caress her.

  Holding her gaze, he let his pinky brush the fast-beating artery in her neck, felt her throat contract as she swallowed hard. Her lids slid to half-mast as he drew the heat from her bruise into his hands. The injury wasn’t life-threatening, would have healed by itself in a few days. Still, he hated the constant reminder of the violence he’d done to her.

  It only took a minute to heal the bruise. And when he was finished, he let his hands rest against her pale skin.

  “Diego.”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you finished?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him toward her, dragging him onto the bed with her.

  Well, drag probably wasn’t the right word because he came without a fight. Hell, he’d been waiting for some sign that showed she wasn’t terrified of him so he could kiss her.

  Better this way that she’d made the first move.

  Much better.

  Stretching out beside her, he tilted her head so he could kiss her even deeper. Her mouth opened beneath his, her tongue curling around his as he stroked in and out. Moaning, she arched into him, her hands digging into his shoulders, urging him closer.

  Hot and sweet, her mouth clung to his with a hint of desperation he understood completely. Heart pounding against his ribs, hands locked on her waist, he felt as if he couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t get enough of her to satisfy the raging hunger roaring in his head, in his gut.

  Her unique flavor sank into his body like a drug and he sank just a little deeper under her influence.

  Breaking away, despite her attempts to hold onto him, he strung kisses along her jaw to her ear, nipping at her earlobe, before licking the skin behind it, causing her to shiver and her hands to sink deeper into his shoulders, her nails puncturing his skin through his cotton t-shirt. The slight pain made whatever sanity he might have had vacate the premises. All he had left was sensation.

  His hands slid up from her shorts to the soft skin of her waist, stroking, kneading. Her body arched toward him as her head twisted away, baring more of her neck. He took the hint and ran his tongue from her collarbone to ear.

  She moaned, bumping her hip into his erection, making it throb and ache. Already hard, his body practically vibrated with desire for her.

  His lips covered hers again as his hands continued to tunnel under her shirt until he cupped her breasts in his hand. Firm and sleek as satin, they nestled into his palm, a perfect fit.

  Her breath stuttered to a halt and he opened his eyes to find hers fluttering open. Wide and now a deep stormy blue, they gazed into his.

  He pulled back, just enough so he could see her, try to gauge her reaction. “Amy Jo. Are you sure?”

  After a few, interminable seconds, the corners of her mouth tilted up at the corners and her hands slipped beneath his t-shirt to splay across his back.

  “Yes. I’m sure.”

  Thank the Gods.

  He smiled as he ran his hands down the length of her body, caressing the lean muscles of her thighs then back up to her hips, past her ribs to her breasts. He kneaded the firm mounds until she squirmed, thrusting her hips into his in an ever-increasing rhythm, each movement rubbing his erection against the seam between her legs.

  The vague notion that this was probably a bad idea evaporated the second she put her hand on his cock through his jeans and wrapped her fingers around him.

  She moaned as he popped the button on her shorts, dragged down the zipper and slid his hand into her underwear, eliciting an answering groan from him. Short, soft hair covered her mound, and he let his fingers linger over it for one second before he delved farther and rubbed his middle finger against her clit.

  Bucking against him, she grabbed his shoulders but not to push him away. She broke their kiss, drawing in a deep breath. With her eyes closed, she bowed away from the bed as he began a slow massage that he increased steadily until she struggled to draw in air.

  She was wet, hot and slick between her legs, completely bare but for the short hair on her mound. That turned him on more than he would’ve thought possible.

  Alternating strokes on her
clit with increasingly hard thrusts into her sheath, he worked her ruthlessly. And when she came, her cry echoed in his ears, settled in his chest and fired his blood to full boil. He wanted to hear her again.

  She didn’t move for a few seconds, only breathed. When she finally stopped pulsing around his fingers, he pulled them free reluctantly but left them lying on her mound.

  He looked up and found her staring at him. Her mouth barely moved, but he knew she was smiling.

  Especially when she moved her hand to the button on his jeans.

  Taking her time, she forced the button through the hole, keeping her gaze locked to his. His breath caught in his throat when her fingers moved to the zipper tab. She wouldn’t be able to release the zipper, his erection pressed against it too tightly. Still, he didn’t move, wondering what she’d do when she realized that.

  He wasn’t prepared for her to flip him on his back in one smooth move. Or for her to trap him between her thighs and kneel over him.

  Did she think he was going to try to get away?

  Two days ago, he wouldn’t have believed they’d ever be in this position. He still wasn’t quite sure how they’d gotten here. He thought—

  With a metallic rasp, she released his zipper and pulled his pants down his hips and Diego stopped thinking. Time enough for that later.

  Right now, he’d just enjoy.

  As he watched, her gaze slid from his chest to his stomach and finally to his cock, throbbing with lust.

  He had no idea what she’d do next and realized he was holding his breath. His lungs released the pent-up air in a harsh sigh when she laid her cool palm across his shaft then let her fingers trail from the already seeping tip to the base. Her fingers combed through the wiry hairs at the base then cupped his tight balls. He bit back a groan as lightning shot from his cock into his stomach then up his spine when she pressed her middle finger in the center of his sac and lightly scraped her fingernail on the perineum.

  Heart tripping in his chest, he thought he might have heart failure. She stared down at him and, though his eyes wanted to roll back into his head with pleasure, he forced his gaze to stay connected to hers.

  It was important to maintain that connection between them, for her to know exactly who she was in bed with.