“Do you at least know how to fire this shotgun?” he clipped out.
She looked at him like that was the stupidest question she’d ever heard. He’d show her stupid. Later. “Of course.”
“Don’t ever do that again. Scratch that. I don’t have to worry about it because I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”
Obviously not wanting to get in the middle of a lover’s quarrel, the officer prepared to leave.
“If we need anything else from you, Miss Burke, we’ll be in touch. Where can I reach you?”
Trey reached for his wallet and handed him a business card. “She’ll be with me.”
Tara stood and started down the hall.
“I think I’ll just stay with Meg or Summer,” she said loftily, as if his fury and terror didn’t mean anything.
He followed her into her room and closed the door with a soft careful click. She turned to him, ready to fight about his autocratic attitude, and he gave the wolf free reign, stalking her across the room. When her back pressed against a wall, she looked at him with fear-widened eyes, which only served to make him angrier. He’d never hurt her. She had to have figured that out by now.
“You will not be alone,” he said tightly. Taking a deep breath to get control his voice, he continued. “And I don’t trust anyone else to watch out for you. Pack. Quickly. Or we can go now. I’d rather you not have anything to change into anyway. Doesn’t matter to me.”
She gasped, hurt and outrage in her eyes. “Don’t I mean more to you than that? More than sex?”
He gently cupped her face in his palms and whispered, “Everything. You mean everything to me. And I will do whatever I have to do to keep you safe, up to and including locking you naked in my house.”
Chapter Eight
Bradley Jones watched with mounting frustration as police officers swarmed over Tara Burke’s house and Williams drove her away. By the time he got to his car several blocks over, they’d be long gone. He ran for it anyway, growling when a group of gawkers wouldn’t part to let him through. That got their attention, he noted with satisfaction, and a path cleared.
Once in his car, he circled as close as possible to the scene, but there was no sign of the blue SUV. He pounded the steering wheel, and turned towards Williams’ apartment.
The complex was a waste of time. Several members of the new werewolf pack had lived there, but after the attack in the neighboring woods they’d moved. He’d been back two days and so far only located Darius Stewart.
Williams was the one the Society wanted, though. Good thing he’d noticed Trey’s interest in Tara Burke. Something weird was going on there. Not that werewolves mating was out of the ordinary, but two female cousins? And not just any ordinary women either, but the old witch Tinnie Duveau’s granddaughters. The third cousin was around too. Summer. He’d seen her in town yesterday.
He drove back to his new rental house and considered checking in with the Society. He nixed that idea, his lip curling in a derisive snarl and instead brought a steak out of the refrigerator. He needed to plan his next move.
The Society kept an extensive file on Williams and he sat to study it again. Williams was good. Very good. But he was better. They knew him as Bradley Jones here, but he’d had another life once. He could hunt with the best of them.
Williams would take Tara and go to ground. It would chafe, but he’d probably bring in pack members to help guard her too. He couldn’t hide forever, though. The question was would he wait for Jones to find him? Or go look for Jones? He wasn’t sure what he’d do if their situations were reversed. The instinct to protect a mate was most dominant of all. Staying with her would be the choice of most weres, but Trey Williams was a retired Hunter. His impulse would be to go on the offensive. By all accounts, he was a cold and calculating Hunter. Jones smiled. A worthy opponent at last. For now, he’d wait.
Chapter Nine
She finished packing and walked silently to the car, unsure of how to take what had just happened. Between the wolf, the shooting and the possessive “prefer you naked” speech, she was on adrenalin overload. It was way too much weirdness at one time.
Leaning her head back against the rest, she curled up in the seat and stared out the window. She had the strangest feeling there was something very important going on that she didn’t know about. Something to do with Trey and wolves and shooters, and his sudden and total concentration on her. The problem was she’d learned not to trust her instincts. They were wrong about half the time.
She sighed. Meg and Summer both knew at least a little about what was going on, but it was useless to try to get information out of them if they weren’t willing to talk. She snuck a glance at Trey. He’d clammed up the minute they walked out of her house. There’d be nothing from him either. He reached for her hand, firmly lacing his fingers through hers.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
“For which part exactly?”
“For not being there when you needed me.” He turned on his blinker to exit town. “The rest of it may not have come out right, but I’m not sorry about it being said.”
She nodded sagely. “Right. You’d just prefer to have me naked and available all the time.”
“Yes. No. God.” He clenched his jaw. “This is not just sex. But, no, I’d rather not have to share you with anyone. Or anything,” he added.
“Mmm hmm. Like my business?”
He shrugged. “You’re good at it. I won’t ask you to give it up.”
She laughed, but even to her it sounded weary and forced. “You won’t, huh. Good thing, because I wouldn’t. That’s not even on the table.”
He smiled. “Believe it or not, I know that.” He shrugged again. “But until I figure out what’s going on, someone will have to cover for you. I can protect you better at my place.”
She wanted to argue, but wasn’t in a real hurry to face the nameless shooter or mysterious wolf again. Right now she just wanted to sleep for the next twelve hours. Who knew getting your window shot out was so draining? She leaned back again and closed her eyes. Just for a minute. She just needed a minute.
He gently shook her awake when they arrived and she blinked at the house in shock. Her grandmother’s house. She got out of the car and slowly walked to the front flowerbeds. They were a mess. She expected to wake up any minute, and actually pinched herself just in case.
Trey got her bag and walked up the porch steps, giving her a concerned look. “Are you okay?”
She nodded and followed him in, stopping inside the door and looking around. She vaguely registered that a cleaning crew had been in.
“This is the house you just bought?”
“Yes. Do you like it?” he asked, looking nervous. “I thought you would like it. Why don’t you look around?”
She nodded and walked through the familiar rooms. The only downstairs room with furniture was the library. She paused long enough to see a massive desk and piles of boxes, before turning to the stairs. She wondered if she’d find her old room empty.
Upstairs she averted her eyes from the room she was most curious about and hurried down the hall. First she wanted a look at Tinnie’s room on the back corner. It was huge and the obvious choice for a master bedroom, but it stood stark and empty. She wondered what happened to the old iron bed or the lacy coverlet that topped it. Summer would know.
She smiled and walked back to her old room. There was a time when she was an overly dramatic teenager that she’d thought their lives so tragic. Her parents and Summer’s were killed in a car crash the year they turned ten, and they’d come to live with Tinnie. Then Tinnie had died when they were sixteen, and Meg and her parents had moved in. But as tragic as it was it was just life.
She paused outside the door, took a deep breath and pushed it open. Sunlight streamed in the bare bay window, making the big brass bed taking up center stage gleam. Her eyes widened in amusement. It was a far cry, and a vast improvement, over the frameless twin that used to sit there
.
Delighted, she stepped in and ran her fingers lightly over the old quilt covering it. She recognized it as a tie quilt. Maybe it was a family heirloom as hers were. Tinnie’s were stored back at her house. There was no other furniture in the room, but the closet was full of Trey’s clothes and she spotted her bag in the corner. He must have brought it up when she was looking around downstairs.
Why had he bought the house that used to mean so much to her? Did he know it had belonged to her family? She realized with a start that he couldn’t have since he didn’t know they were cousins when he bought it, and Summer was the signature when they'd sold it. And she’d arranged to miss the closing. Just an odd coincidence.
She found Trey in the library unloading books from boxes onto shelves and joined him. They worked in companionable silence for a couple of hours, the empty boxes piling up in the hall, when her growling stomach finally claimed her attention.
“Is your kitchen stocked?” she asked.
He pushed another handful of books onto a top shelf. “It is, but I didn’t do it, so I’m not sure what all’s there. Let’s go look.” He grinned down at her, dusting hands on his jeans. “Maybe I can cook you dinner.”
She followed him to the kitchen, a little surprised to find herself staring at his butt on the way. Well, why not? It was such a fine specimen. As the afternoon had worn on, her anger had faded and curiosity rose. He pulled two marinating steaks out of the refrigerator and she arched an eyebrow. Expecting company, was he? He noticed and grinned.
“What can I say? I’m an optimist. Or my friends are on my behalf.”
She laughed.
“There’s a bottle of wine in there. Why don’t you pour us a glass?”
“Sure,” she answered. She poured wine into the two glasses he handed her, while he turned on the stove.
He picked up a glass. “What should we toast to?” he asked.
She looked around the kitchen and slowly smiled for the first time at the prospect of the house having new owners. “To your new house, of course.”
The only item of Tinnie’s still there was the old scarred kitchen table. No one could figure out how to get it out. Too wide for the doorways, it could have been taken apart, but none of them had had the heart to do it and it still sat in the room surrounded by six chairs. She pulled one out and sat, lovingly tracing old grooves and smiling a little.
He looked over his shoulder at her. “I can’t find a way to get that out of here other than taking an axe to it.”
She sucked in a breath. “Don’t you dare,” she said softly.
She looked up and met his gaze. “I grew up in this house, you know.”
His pose didn’t change, but she was aware she had his full attention.
“I didn’t know.”
She nodded. “When my grandmother Tinnie died, she left it to me, Meg, and Summer. We left it empty for years, and then I needed money to start the bakery and they bought me out. Then Meg needed money to buy her house and Summer bought her out. Finally, Summer decided she didn’t want to ever live here, and we decided it would be best to sell it.”
She took a sip of her wine.
“Why did you buy it?”
“Why?” He shook his head and smiled, a bemused expression crossing his face. She wondered what the joke was. “I couldn’t figure that out myself when I did. I had to have it, and I knew you would like it.”
She froze, confused, and maybe a little alarmed. “The house sold weeks ago. I only knew you in passing then.”
“I knew you,” he whispered so low she almost didn’t catch it. He turned the steaks over. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”
She snorted. “Are you saying you saw me and fell in love? And bought a house before you even really met me?”
“Sometimes it happens that way, don’t you think?” he asked. “I saw you. I knew.” He shrugged. “I can’t explain it.”
Butterflies launched in her stomach and her fingers itched to reach over and caress his face. Instead, she started on the steak he sat in front of her. It wasn’t cooked as well as she liked, but the flavor burst in her mouth. She’d always liked steak, but frowned when she realized she hadn’t had anything but red meat since the first night Trey came home with her.
“Remind me not to invite Summer to dinner,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because she’s a vegetarian and this,” she said, waving the fork in the air, “is apparently all you eat.”
He grinned. “Not true. I eat your chocolate éclairs.”
She laughed. “Everyone eats my chocolate éclairs.”
He smiled and turned serious. “So your grandmother raised you?”
“Summer and I, from the time we were ten. Our parents died in a car accident,” she said softly.
She didn’t feel the usual pang of sorrow, had to remind herself not to get too attached to Trey. She hadn’t realized how lonely her life had become. How much she wanted someone in it. Sighing, she gathered the dirty dishes and hurried to wash them. If she’d really thought about it, she would have lingered. The night stretched out long before her and with a house empty of almost all furniture, that brass bed was uppermost in her mind.
“Let’s go finish putting the books up,” she said.
“Sure.” He nodded from where he watched her, his long legs stretched in repose. “After you.”
There were eight boxes left and by the third she was repressing a yawn, the roller coaster day finally catching up with her. He caught her when she swayed.
“You need to go to bed,” he whispered close to her ear.
“I’m okay,” she said.
“No,” he answered, swinging her up in his arms. “You aren’t.”
He took the stairs quickly and after lowering her to the mattress, began removing her clothes. She reached to do it herself, and he stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets. Shoes and shirt off, she stood and reached for the snap of her jeans. Watching intently, he pulled the quilt back revealing cotton T-shirt sheets. Her favorite. She smiled, wondering if that was something else he’d bought for her.
Finally she stood before him wearing only her bra and underwear. She expecting him to reach for her or order her to finish stripping. Her heart raced in anticipation. Her pussy was wet and aching. Ready. Waiting. Instead of reaching for her though, he settled her in the bed and pulled the covers up. What the hell? She wasn’t that tired. He couldn’t have changed his mind about them. He’d bought a house for her, for God’s sake.
He shifted, looking at her intently, and said, “I’ll let you get some sleep.”
Suddenly she couldn’t bear the thought of being alone.
“Lay down with me for a while,” she said. “Please. Stay with me until I fall asleep at least.”
After a minute he nodded, and toeing off his shoes and removing his shirt, he climbed into the bed next to her. He gathered her to him, his front to her back, and she snuggled into him, marveling at the sense of security. But the jeans had to go. They chafed against her hyper sensitive skin. She rolled over and pressed against him.
“The jeans,” she whispered. “They itch. Take them off please.”
He sighed. “You know what will happen then.”
She smiled, knowing he couldn’t see her face and rubbed her nose against his chest. “Yeah.”
“You need sleep.”
“I can sleep later.”
She heard the slide of his zipper and felt the dip in the mattress as he lifted his hips to tug down the jeans. He spooned back against her and she remembered he hadn’t worn underwear before. Maybe it was a laundry emergency. Maybe it wasn’t. For her, it just meant all that smooth, intoxicating skin was hers to explore.
Turning, she waited for the usual urgency to overtake him, but he had a firmer grip on himself than before. She didn’t stop to examine why as she ran her fingers over his nipples and sought his mouth with hers, but nothing she did hurried him up. After the day she’d had, she wanted
fast and hard and furious, and wanted to howl with frustration when he didn’t give it to her.
He took control, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand and leisurely exploring her face and neck with his lips, dropping light kisses here, gentle swipes of his tongue there. It set her on fire, his tender assault on her senses. She felt fine tremors roll through him, and knew the restraint cost him. When he finally reached her breasts, she strained against him trying to thrust a hardened nipple into his mouth, but still he held the reins and avoided it until she thought she’d die with the strength of her need.
He trailed kisses down her body, pausing to swirl his tongue around her navel and she thrust her hips up in silent demand. She wondered half-seriously if she would die if she didn’t come soon. Desire rode her hard and she continued to grind against him until he nipped her hard in punishment.
He growled. “Still.”
Chapter Ten
Love at first sight. Trey couldn’t believe the words came out of his mouth. He needed her. He wanted her. But did he love her? All he knew for sure was he could no longer live without her and he had to convince her she couldn’t live without him before something happened to change her mind. Like finding out he was an honest to god werewolf.
He meant to hold her, soothe her into sleep. Then the jeans came off and he was a goner. He couldn’t name what he felt, but he could show her at least. Let her put the words to it. He was lost in the sensation of her as he edged his way down her belly, determined to taste her, and then to drive her new heights. Settling between her thighs, he drew the scent of her desire deep into his lungs and swirled a finger around her wet opening, seduced by her moan of pleasure.
With a light bite on the inside of her thigh, he nibbled his way to the crease of her leg. When the urge to break skin, to permanently bind them together by mixing the enzyme in his blood with hers, began to override his logic he ruthlessly grabbed control and slid his tongue in her slit. She gasped and attempted to move against him, but he held her hips down with a firm arm.
Bad Moon Rising (Lunar Mates Book 2) Page 5
