“She safe?”
Well, speak of the devil. Gee had rarely said a word to him in all the months Ross had lived in Los Lobos, and now the man called him? “Yes.”
“Good,” the Werebear grunted and hung up.
Ross watched Cinder devour his food. Odd phone call. Gee didn’t seem the type to worry about a stranger, even a sweet bit of woman like Darci. He strode to the sink to wash his hands. A mystery for another time. First order of business, his cute little mate needed food. A problem he could fix immediately.
He had the table set, burgers sizzling on a grill pan, lettuce cleaned, and onions and tomatoes sliced by the time Darci padded down the stairs. He caught her scent over the aroma from the meat and veggies, and his inner beast stirred, wanting to stalk over to her, gather her in his arms, hold her curvy little body tight against his, and—
Down, boy. “Hey there. You eat burgers? I have some leftover baked beans and coleslaw, too. Not much else. Wasn’t expecting dinner company.” He tightened his grip on the steel spatula, willing his body to stay by the stove. His ears perked up at the sound of her footsteps bringing her to him. Scratch that, she headed to the door. Shit.
He pivoted, ready to bound over to stop her. Relief hit him square in the chest when she bent and pulled something out of her backpack then straightened and approached the dining table. Not leaving.
“Ready to eat? Burgers are done.” He piled the patties on a plate, collected the platter of fixings, and carried both to the table, setting them next to bowls of beans and slaw.
Darci sank onto a chair and slid a shiny purple laptop case next to her plate. “Thank you. Beans and coleslaw sound great.”
He sat across from her. “What, no burger?” He pointed at the beverages in the center of the table. “Water or coffee? There’s beer in the fridge if you prefer.”
“Water, thanks. And no burger. I, uh, don’t eat meat.”
He froze, his fork speared in the top burger on the pile. “Say what?”
She dropped a miniscule amount of beans and slaw on her plate while he gaped at her. “But, how can you not eat meat. You’re a….” He bit back his next words. They hadn’t actually acknowledged their shifter identities.
“Wolf?” she finished for him.
He nodded. Good, he liked having the truth exposed. Would make it easier to segue into the and by the way, you’re my mate discussion. Later.
She poked at the slaw with her fork. “I never really gave the food thing much thought. My mom was human. My dad was a Werewolf. They died when I was six and my human aunt raised me. She’s vegan.”
“Sorry to hear about your parents.” Shitty way to grow up. He couldn’t imagine his life without the unconditional love and support of his parents.
“It’s okay.” She shrugged, a nonchalant gesture, but hurt glimmered in her eyes. “As a vegan, Aunt Jessica doesn’t eat or wear animal products. But she raised me vegetarian since she thought my Wolf side might need some animal protein.”
Ross snorted. “She was right.” He piled a meat patty, lettuce, and tomato on a bun. “No meat. It’s just contrary to the natural order of things.” Wolves hunt and eat what they kill. What did she do with hers? “You’re not supposed to play with the bunnies in the forest. You’re supposed to eat them.”
Darci chuckled. “I drink milk. Eat eggs. And cheese. God, I love cheese. The stinkier the better.”
Her husky laugh wrapped him in its warmth. The sexy, upward tilt of her lips tempted him to lean over the table and take her mouth with his. Taste her. He took a huge bite of beef, bread, and veg. And another, while his cock tightened to steel in his jeans.
“I could make you a grilled cheese,” he offered, watching her take delicate bites of slaw. “Though the cheddar I have isn’t particularly pungent.”
“No thanks, this is good.” Her luscious lips closed around a helping of beans. Lucky beans. Lucky fork. She waved the fortunate cutlery in his direction. “What about you?”
He abandoned the last quarter of his burger on his plate. “What about me, what?”
“Well, you know my name, Darci Diamond. You know my parents are dead and I was raised by my aunt. Oh, and you know I recently graduated from grad school. Computer science. And you?” She cocked her head, spearing him with a steady stare.
Her short black hair framed her pixie face, the curly fringe resembling shaggy arrows pointing at her hypnotic, green eyes and tempting, kissable lips. His cock twitched, and he resisted the urge to adjust himself. Instead, he polished off his burger and attacked the beans on his plate.
She seemed genuinely interested in getting to know him. If Werewolf-mating gods existed, he owed them a shit ton of gratitude for bringing him this sweet, cute, smart mate. “Right. Ross Luparell. Parents alive. Two siblings, older brother, younger sister. Evan is thirty-one and bossy as hell. Lexi is twenty-four and a truly talented artist. My brother and I run a software company out of Indiana, where my family lives, but I work remotely. Came to Los Lobos to create homes for homeless shifter families in the area. I just finished a great house today, though we still need to do the landscaping and….”
Darci stared at him as if he’d just told her she’d won the lottery.
“You’re Luparell.” She practically bounced in her seat.
“I am.” Her eagerness pleased him, but what precisely had her so thrilled? “You okay?”
“Yes, it’s just, well, I— Ouch! What the heck?” She shoved her chair away from the table and pulled up her leg. Cinder had attached himself to her calf. “Well, hello there, cuteness.” She pried his frisky kitten from her leg, cuddling the squirmy, purring bundle to her chest.
Ross so wanted to be his cat.
She nuzzled his kitten. “I can’t believe you have a cat.”
“Why?”
She shot him an are-you-dense look. “You’re a Wolf. You know, canine versus feline? As in this little puff ball’s natural enemy, right?” Cinder mewed as if he understood the conversation. She placed him on the floor, and he scurried off after some invisible foe.
Ross grinned. “His name is Cinder, and in my defense, he adopted me.”
She quirked a dark brow. “Cinder? You named a boy cat after Cinderella?”
He chuckled. “Cinder as in, the cat is pale gray like cinder block.”
Cinder returned and hopped into her lap.
“Ah.” She scratched the cat’s chin much to its extreme purring pleasure. “He really adopted you?”
“Yes. Strolled in my house and parked himself on my lap one day.” He pointed at the couch. “I was napping. Guess he thought I made a good bed.”
She laughed. “That’s sweet.”
No, you’re sweet, Moonbeam. “Given he’s so young—too young to fend for himself out there—I hunted around for his family and possible owner. Came up empty.”
Her smile faded. “Aw, poor kitty.”
Said kitty leapt from her lap and bolted across the room.
Darci stared at her empty plate, tracing a finger along the edge. “It’s hard to lose your parents when you’re so young.”
Aw, hell. He’d inadvertently kicked up a hard memory for her. He reached across the table and covered her busy fingers with his. She sucked in a startled breath, looked at him then down at his finger drawing meant-to-be soothing circles around her delicate wrist bone. She seemed so fragile. He wanted to scoop her up in his lap. Protect her from the world. Wipe away the sadness haunting her eyes.
Before he could think better of it, he lifted her hand, pressing his lips to her silky skin. Her sweet scent made him crazed.
“What…?” She swallowed. “What are you doing?”
Oh yeah, he liked the breathy tone, the interest in her stare. He’d successfully distracted her from the pain of her past and, big freaking bonus, he’d also aroused her. “What I’ve wanted to do from the moment you fell through my door and into my arms.”
Her shocked gasp made his cock jerk. The urge to leap over the tab
le and take her drove daggers into his gut, but he forced his ass to stay planted in his seat while he peppered her skin with slow, gentle kisses. He needed to take this slow. Mustn’t scare his mate.
When she reached out and stroked his hair, she made him the happiest man in all of Los Lobos.
Her breath left her in a sexy rush. “It’s as silky as it looks.” She bit her lip, her brow furrowing as if she hadn’t meant to say those words out loud.
He smiled. “Play away, Moonbeam.”
A shudder rolled through her. Her nipples pearled to tight buds visible through her shirt. No bra. His control broke. To hell with this.
He burst to his feet. “Don’t move, Moonbeam.”
He strode around the table. She watched him come, hands clutched against her breasts, eyes wide, cheeks flushed a pretty pink.
He shifted her chair so she faced him then knelt before her. His gaze met hers at this level, an intimacy he fucking loved. He gripped her wrists and moved her unresisting hands to rest on his shoulders.
Her fingers curled, nails scraping his skin through his T-shirt, sending jolts of lust to his groin. “Why do you call me that?”
He gripped her knees and inched them apart, pleased when she didn’t object. She felt it, too, he was sure of it, the need for closeness created by the call of their Wolf-mate bond. “Call you what?”
She slid her hands to his biceps. “Moonbeam.”
He pressed in close, closer. “Your skin. Pale as moonlight.” He glided his hands along her outer thighs, over her hips, to circle her waist.
“Oh.” She let out a delightful shudder and stared at him, her parted lips tempting him closer.
A growl escaped his throat. He closed the distance and kissed her.
Chapter Five
Holy wow, the man could kiss.
Darci’s lips parted under his demanding press. She demanded, too, reveling in his taste—meat and coffee and delicious man. Needing more contact, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He growled his approval into her mouth, the vibration sending shivers somersaulting down her spine. Her core clenched and dampened with want.
He surged to his feet, taking her with him, his grip on her ass firm. Possessive.
She liked being possessed.
You don’t know him. What are you doing? A miniscule voice in her head whispered.
Shut up. Want him, her raging hormones howled. She could do this. Have a fling with a sexy Wolf man. Worry about achieving a normal human life later.
He pulled back, nipping her lower lip with his teeth in a quick tug and release. She squirmed in his embrace. More nips followed along her jaw, down her neck.
She tilted her head in surrender. “Ross.”
“Yes, Moonbeam. Yes.” He planted her ass on the edge of the table, pressing her down next to her laptop and the remains of their dinner. Dishes rattled. Overhead, the storm pelted the house with a torrent of rain, its pace faster than her hammering heart.
“Ross.” She couldn’t manage another word, couldn’t think past his musky scent and his lips against her skin.
He bit her neck. She cried out then shuddered when his tongue laved the spot he’d nipped. Need drenched her center, making her hyper aware she wore nothing underneath the yoga pants he’d loaned her.
“Darci,” he rasped against her neck.
She clutched his head—loving the sinful silkiness of his hair—and scraped her nails along his scalp. He grunted in approval and cupped her head with one big hand while his other wandered south. Through the thin material of her T-shirt, his fingers teased her nipples to tight buds, his thumb and index tweaking each tip in turn, over and over, the cotton creating an extra layer of delicious friction.
“Oh God,” she moaned.
“Not God. Ross.” He shot her a wolfy grin then sucked one taut nipple into his mouth, shirt and all.
“Ross,” she echoed as he sucked and sucked. And sucked some more. Desire zinged from her breasts to her twitching, aching center. Her hips pushed upward.
“Oh yeah, baby. Like that.” He let his weight sink onto her, the heavy press of his huge body pinning her to the table. He rubbed his erection against her sweet spot, ratcheting up her desire. Another hard swivel of his hips sent her closer to the peak. She arched her back, arms flailing outward along the table.
Dishes and cutlery clattered. Her water glass toppled, and her laptop fell to the floor with a loud thump. The lights flickered, and a crack of thunder rent the air.
Darci crashed to reality, logic warring with lust. What the heck was she thinking? What the hell was she doing? She was farther from home than she’d ever been in her life, in a town one could only find with a crudely drawn map, alone in a storm with a sexy stranger and letting said stranger, a Werewolf, kiss the crap out of her.
Crazy. Wrong. “Stop.” She pushed at his head, his shoulders. “Stop.”
Ross straightened, eyes glazed with sexual heat. “Darci? What is it, Moonbeam?” He stroked her hip.
“Don’t call me Moonbeam.” She scrambled off the table and stumbled on shaky legs into the living room, her gaze bouncing everywhere at once, taking in everything and nothing. Grip. She needed to get a grip.
She tugged at her hair. “This is wrong. I don’t know you. This is too much. I can’t. I have to go. I have to find help. I have to—”
Ross raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Hold on, Moonbeam. Take a moment.” He stepped toward her. “And please, take a nice, slow breath before you pass out.”
He took another step, and she backed up. “Don’t call me that!”
Yes, she heard the hysteria creeping into her own voice, but she couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop the fear and confusion or the desperate need to throw herself into his arms. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t this crazed-with-lust woman currently occupying her needy body, telling her being in his arms was the perfect place to be.
Her brows collided. “Did you drug me?”
Shock registered on his face. “What? No. How could you think such a thing?”
She crossed her arms. “Because I don’t know you. I don’t. You must have done something to me. This isn’t me. I don’t care if my dad told me to trust you. This is wrong. I have to go.” She glanced at the door.
Ross stalked forward, shaking his head. “Wait. You said your dad was dead.”
Startled by his advance and the determined look on his too-handsome face, she retreated until she hit the window, the cold glass against her bare arms making her yip in surprise. She raised her hand to prevent him from closing the miniscule distance separating their bodies. “My dad is dead, but he told me—”
He folded his arms over his chest. “You can talk to the dead?”
Was he joking? Hard to tell from his neutral tone. She shook her head. “Crazy talk.”
He pointed between the two of them. “Werewolves?” When she just stared, he added, “Shifters of all species exist. Remember Gee?”
She nodded. Did he have a point? And why was she still standing here? She needed to go, like, a thousand seconds ago. She sidled along the glass toward the door.
He followed. “Gee’s a Bear shifter.”
Another sidle, another step closer to the door and her backpack. “Oh.”
He palmed the glass next to her head, halting her progress. “So, talking to the dead? Not much of a stretch, Moonbeam.”
“Stop calling me Moonbeam.” Her protest lacked heat, and she knew it. They both knew it.
She avoided his intense gaze, focusing on his arm, her gaze sliding along his tanned skin, the corded muscle, the light dusting of golden hair. A strong arm on a strong man. A man who had welcomed her sorry, drenched butt into his home, carried her upstairs to care for her, lifted her onto a table to kiss and hold her tight. A shiver ran through her. God, she wanted to trust him. But how could she? The twinge of a headache tapped against her temples, and she rubbed them with her fingertips.
He leaned in close, his musky scent overwhelming her a
gain. “You can trust me, Darci.”
Crap on a cupcake, she’d said her fears out loud. She blinked up at him and pressed herself into the cold glass behind her, the storm vibrating it against her twitchy body. Chills skittered over her skin.
He put his face close to hers. “Shut down your mind. Reach out with your senses. Your Wolf senses.” His warm, coffee-tainted breath bathed her lips. “The human mind is easily muddied, but your Wolf? She will always see the truth.”
She banged her fists on the glass. “I don’t know how to do that.” Didn’t want to do it. Her Wolf was nothing but painful trouble.
“Please trust me, Darci.” He stepped away.
And shifted into a Wolf.
“Holy crap.” She slid down the window until her ass hit the floor.
Big man, big Wolf. Fear froze her in place as she stared into his watchful, brown eyes. What was she supposed to do? Why had he shifted? It had happened so fast and fluid, like a perfect, flowing magic trick. One blink, a man then poof, another blink, Wolf. If only it were so easy and pain-free for her.
Cinder scampered across the room, mewling in excitement. She pounced onto Darci’s lap for one whole second then shot over to the Wolf, rubbed against him, then fell over and stretched out, belly up.
The cat trusts the Wolf. Maybe she should, too?
The Wolf—Ross—shook his head and made a sound resembling a bark. Saying hello? He ducked his head, placing it on his front paws, resembling a playful dog. An enormous dog with wicked-sharp Wolf teeth.
But it’s Ross.
And the happy kitty plus Ross’s relaxed posture did the trick. The fact he didn’t eat the cat helped, too.
She reached out to him. Trust her Wolf, he’d said. “Okay, Ross. I’ll try.” For the moment.
He nuzzled her hand. A thrill of excitement shot through her, making her brave. She scooted toward him, stroked his head. His russet coat scratched her palm, the fur coarser than his silky human hair. Yet she didn’t want to stop touching him. His head, his neck, his back. Everywhere she touched sent tingles into her hands, reminiscent of static electricity but infinitely more pleasing. This felt good. This felt right.
Diamond Moon (Black Hills Wolves Book 12) Page 3
