by Afton Locke
“Asleep,” he said, showing her to a walnut-brown dining room table.
A couple of candles burned from brass holders centered on lace doilies. Her tired feet ached to kick off her shoes and sink into the gold shag carpet. The old-fashioned room sounded blissfully quiet after the clatter of the diner.
Her stomach growled as several appetites in her blossomed at once. “Something smells good.”
“I wish I could take the credit, but Rita whipped something up before she left.”
She didn’t care if the governor of Florida had prepared the meal. Tonight, she wanted only Alan, wherever and however she could get him. Heat banked in her belly like a persistent fog as they filled their plates at the stove.
After they sat down, she took a few bites. The pork chops tasted delicious, but excitement kept her from savoring them properly.
“This is a wonderful surprise.” She gazed at the candle flame in front of her. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but what’s the occasion?”
When he wiped some olive oil from his mouth, she itched to do it for him with her tongue. Realizing he did it to delay his answer cooled her ardor.
“One reason is to apologize to you for the way I acted this morning, ruining your tomatoes. Hang on a second.”
She frowned when he jumped up to visit the refrigerator. He sure acted mysterious tonight. With great solemnity, he brought back a tomato with a heart carved into it and set it in front of her.
After raising her fingers to her mouth, she laughed through them. “Oh, Alan.”
His dark eyes grew serious. “I don’t want to be the cliché violent guy who apologizes to his woman and promises he’ll never do it again. So, I’m just saying I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” She let her hand rest on his across the table. “But don’t worry about it. You didn’t exactly beat me up.”
“You’re my mate. I would never hurt you,” he said quietly as a single shiver shook his shoulders. “At least I hope I wouldn’t.”
“What’s the other reason?”
When he looked down at his lap, her heart landed on her high-heeled shoes like a dead fish. She should have known a romantic dinner would be too good to be true.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she asked. “When?”
His gaze rose and locked onto hers. “Tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. She’d never hated a word so much. It struck her in the chest with the force of a hammer. A wooden clock ticked from the wall, marking what little time they had left.
“So, this is good-bye.”
He nodded. “But we have tonight. Shelley, there are so many things I need to say to you.”
She wasn’t sure she could stand to hear them, but she couldn’t bear to leave yet.
“I’m going to hire The Defenders to have someone guard Dad. Starwood sent two goons over here today to pressure him to sell the diner. One of them was the same guy I turned down.”
“Oh, no.” What a bittersweet romantic dinner. Plenty of romance but also a boatload of bad news to go along with it. “He didn’t, did he?”
“Luckily, no.”
“My afternoon wasn’t so great, either,” she said. “Barbara and I aren’t friends anymore.”
His brow creased. “Because of me?”
“It was a long time coming.” She shrugged. “I don’t care what she thinks anymore about my taste in men.”
“Maybe she’ll grow up someday, like you.”
When she rose to help him clear the plates, he held up his hand. “You’re off duty tonight.”
He returned to the table, grasped her bare shoulders, and rubbed lazy circles on them. His touch felt so good she closed her eyes and sighed.
“You have such pretty shoulders,” he murmured. “Soft but strong. You’d never know by looking at them how much weight they carry in the pack.”
“Thank you, Alan. I think you have the makings for another poem in there somewhere.”
“We’ll see.” He flashed her a teasing grin. “I’d play some music, but I’m afraid it would wake Dad. Will you pretend dance with me?”
“Sure.”
While his arms slid around her waist, she wrapped hers around his upper back, drinking in the thick cotton of his shirt and his scent. Without words, they hugged each other’s bodies tight as they swayed to a silent beat.
The close physical contact made her eyes burn. How could she say good-bye to him now? Ever? He’d only been here a few days, and he already felt like part of her soul. Her love. Her mate. Her everything. And she was going to lose him before she’d even had him.
His bandana tickled her face when he leaned his forehead against hers. His breath, slow and warm, brushed her cheek. It felt so right to be this close to him, she melted faster than a piece of key lime pie in the sun.
“Shelley, I— Oh, hell.”
“What are you trying to say, Alan?” she whispered.
“Before I leave, I want you to know something.”
They both spoke quietly so they wouldn’t wake his father. Alan was finally laying his soul bare to her—something that had never happened before and probably never would again. She didn’t care if a hurricane ripped through the cottage. Nothing had better ruin this rare moment.
“Do you need to write another poem?” she teased. “What is it already?”
“Nothing much.” He looked down at his shoes. “I just…I love you, Shelley.”
A tremor rippled through her arms, locking him closer. Those were the best words she’d heard all day. Knowing how hard it had been for him to say them made them more precious. They still rocked to an unheard beat, in the perfect unison only mates could achieve.
She pressed her cheek against his. “Oh, Alan. You know how I feel about you, too.”
“Don’t. I don’t deserve it.” He shook his head, making the tied ends of his bandana bounce. “I’m a violent freak.”
“No, you’re not,” she said, glaring into his eyes while she gripped his hands. “Don’t ever say that again.”
“Why, angel? Why?” He brushed her chin with his index finger. “Why do you keep believing in me when nobody else does? When I don’t even believe in myself?”
“Because you have two men inside.” She poked a finger to his breastbone. “You only see the bad one, but I see the tender boy who writes beautiful poems.”
His eyes softened, widening to two dark pools of fire, which threatened to swallow her up.
“But I’m so hard and you’re so soft,” he argued. “What do you see in me?”
“You’re soft, too, on the inside,” she said, wondering where the words came from as she said them. “Maybe you’re hard on the outside because you’re so soft inside.”
He pressed his rigid pelvis against her. “Soft? Are you sure?”
“Be serious.” She sighed as her core melted, needing him inside her more than her lungs needed oxygen. “You’re like…a hidden moon. Everyone else sees the clouds, but I see the light behind them.”
His mouth twisted up in a half-grin. “You’ve got me all figured out, huh?”
As they swayed in silence, his liquid gaze caressed her face and drifted over her collarbones, strong and hot as a physical touch. The skin under her confining panties swelled and heated up. As they moved, the slinky fabric of the dress teased her, making her crave his touch.
“Any other particular reason you invited me here?” she asked.
“Yeah, one more.”
Her breath caught as he ran a finger down the bodice opening of her dress. Because she hadn’t worn a bra, her stiff nipples stretched the fabric. But, damn him, he wouldn’t touch them. Instead, his teasing strokes stayed near the opening, studying the curves of her breasts from the sides and bottoms.
He shot her a serious look. “Are you aware you have the most perfect breasts in the universe?”
She laughed, but desire quickly dissolved her humor. While staring into his eyes, she slid two fingers up his ch
eek and hooked them under the bandana, lifting it off.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” he said, shooting her a wicked little smile.
She tossed it to the floor. “Why not?”
In reply, he pressed a strong palm to her buttocks and squeezed. She must have turned into an orange because hot juices dripped into her panties as a result. Next, he pressed a scalding hot kiss to the tender spot where her neck met her shoulder. Her fingers curled around the back of his collar as he sucked and licked the tender skin.
Her heels wobbled in the carpet as he worked his mouth in a slow, lazy path up her neck, across her cheek, and finally to her parted lips. Every inch or so, he stopped to press hot, moist kisses to her skin with his deliciously full lips. Sometimes he sucked a little. Other times, he swiped with the tip of his tongue.
“Alan.” The word spilled out of her mouth as a half-plea, half-demand.
“Come on.” He grasped her hand and led her to the couch. “The last reason I invited you here was to make sweet love to you.”
“You mean you didn’t enjoy banging me on the counter at the diner?”
“Hell, yeah, I enjoyed it,” he said, shooting her his sexy, boyish smile. “But that was just hot sex. My first time, too.”
Her eyebrows shot up. She was his first? His only? She wished she could say the same about him. If she hadn’t played games in high school, they’d probably be married by now instead of parting.
“You sure seemed to know what you were doing,” she said.
“I guess I learned a few things from watching the adult channel on cable.” He brushed back a lock of her hair. “The point is you deserve better. Lie down.”
Her pulse throbbed all the way down to her toes as she kicked off her sandals and lay on her back on the big, velveteen sofa. He pulled up the skirt of her dress, but she was too lost in his kiss to pay attention. The sound of rustling clothes and fast, soft breaths surrounded them. He whispered her name while he parted her thighs with warm fingers. Tangling in her panties. Pulling them down, too.
She unbuttoned his shirt, reaching inside to explore the hot planes of his chest along the way.
“What if your father wakes up?” she asked when she reached the last button.
“He won’t.” All the same, he tugged the red-white-and-blue afghan from the back of the couch and covered them with it.
When he unzipped his fly, her nerves were so taut it sounded like cannon fire in the quiet room. Her slit wept, needing her mate’s body and soul. Too eager to wait, she guided him inside, leaving behind a layer of his silky wetness on her fingertips. While he kissed her with exquisite gentleness, she stroked his bare scalp. It was smooth and surprisingly soft. While he eased into her depths, he groaned softly into her mouth.
“Alan,” she half-whispered, half-moaned. While the couch embraced her from behind, she gripped his shoulders and embraced him with her thighs, giving him everything—her eager body, her fast-beating heart, and her future.
So precious. So brief. The best moments of her life. If only she could lock them into a box like a pair of earrings and enjoy them later, after he was gone.
His mouth pulled away from hers, leaving her lips cold. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m thinking about tomorrow. I really don’t like that word.”
He toyed with her bottom lip and pressed a kiss onto it while he slid deep. “Tomorrow doesn’t exist tonight.”
She arched her back, inviting him even farther into her core and squeezing him like a possessive mate.
He winced. “Damn, Shelley. Keep doing that and I’m going come.”
“Alan?”
“Uh-huh?” He whistled out a slow breath as she locked her legs around him and dug her heels into his taut buttocks.
“The mating bond,” she said, panting. “This time. Please.”
He slid his hands under her buttocks, still stroking slowly enough to make her lose her mind.
“You know I want to, but I can’t,” he whispered.
She swallowed. “I won’t ask you to stay. I promise.”
“I’m sorry, Shelley.” He closed his eyes and dropped his head. “It wouldn’t be right.”
Why did he have to be so honorable? But he still brought his generous mouth to her neck, tasting and probing with his tongue, as if he also wondered what it would be like to consummate their bond. She squirmed under him, her juices soaking his hard flesh, and probably the couch cushion beneath her.
He reared back, displaying his sexy bare chest. She slid her palms over it—his hot sweat, muscles, and ribs—while he rotated his hips, hugging her from the inside out and setting off sensations so intense they nearly paralyzed her. My mate, the wolf in her declared.
When he gazed at her, he told her with his eyes he was about to come. After dropping her hands from his chest, she dug her nails into the base of his spine, driving him into her—harder, deeper, faster. So hard his torso dropped, crushing her chest. The sudden movement made her abdomen clench. Feeling so ripped apart she didn’t know if she was alive or dead, she screamed into his shoulder.
He dragged in a huge breath that ended on her name as his seed exploded inside her. Each aftershock of his set off one in her and vice versa as their bodies echoed each other. She roved her hands over him while they rested, their hearts thudding in unison. Memorizing the curve of his skull here and the slope of his shoulder there. Most of all, his deep-brown chocolate eyes as he gazed at her and caressed an exposed breast.
When he finally spoke, his voice sounded hoarse. “Love hurts, doesn’t it?”
She traced the outline of his ear, forcing back the heavy wall of heat building behind her eyes. “Yes, it does, Alan, but in a good way. At least with us.”
While the spell of their incredible lovemaking slowly evaporated around them, the wolf in her tuned into her surroundings. She peeped over the back of the couch, hoping she wouldn’t find his father standing there watching.
A slight breeze wafted in from the window overlooking the orange grove. The wolf in her sniffed.
“Do you smell smoke?”
“Hmm?” Alan yawned and stretched as he sat up. “Yeah, I wonder—”
Straightening her dress, she scrambled off the couch and rushed toward the window. In the distance, she spotted a reddish glow.
“My orange grove. Oh God, Alan! It’s on fire!”
Chapter Eight
“I’ve got to go,” Shelley said over her shoulder as she raced toward the front door.
Alan grabbed her arm. “You’re not rushing into that fire.”
“My oranges,” she cried. “I’ve got to—”
“No.” Squeezing her squirming arm, he drew her closer. “First, I’m going to call the pack. Make sure they know. Find someone to guard Dad. Then we’ll go.”
“That’ll take forever.” The ferocity in her usually gentle hazel eyes reminded him she was a wolf. “The grove will be burned by then.”
He jerked his head toward the door. “I can’t leave him, and I’m not letting you head into a fire by yourself.”
“I’m a farmer, for God’s sake, not helpless.” She dug short but sharp nails into his forearm. “I’ll be careful.”
“No way. Fire kills and whoever set it may still be out there.”
He dragged her toward the phone and picked it up with his free hand. Luckily, Dad had their Alpha on speed dial. The movement gave Shelley enough leverage to break free of him.
“Shelley!” His raised voice echoed inside the room. “As your mate, I forbid you to walk out that door without me.”
She gripped the doorknob and planted her other hand on her hip. “You’re not my mate. You refused to bond, remember?”
Oh, yeah. Crap.
When Derek answered, Alan put the phone on speaker so Shelley could hear. His tongue tripped over itself as he tried to explain everything.
“Do not let her go alone,” the Alpha said. “I�
�ll send someone over to guard your father. Is the fire threatening the house?”
Alan glanced out the window, his heart thundering in his ears. “Unless a stray spark blows over here, I don’t think so.”
“I’m going to get those old clothes from the truck and wet them down while we wait.” She opened the door. “I need to call Mom, too, and make sure she’s okay. I’ll be right back. I promise.”
“Okay. I’m glad you obey your Alpha, at least.” He picked up his bandana off the floor and tied it around his head again.
“I obey my mate, too,” she said. “I don’t need a bite to prove you’re mine.”
Warmth spread through his chest. Well, he did. With everything happening, he couldn’t sink his teeth into her neck fast enough. While she handled the clothes they’d wear, he hooked up the hose and wet down the roof as a precaution.
After Alan put on the wet clothes, Dad peered out of his bedroom. Frowning and rumple-haired, he looked like a bear that had been pulled out of hibernation before spring.
“I smell smoke,” he said, nose twitching. “What the hell is going on?”
“The orange grove is burning,” Shelley said, gripping the windowsill.
Alan swallowed, trying not to notice how hot she looked in a wet T-shirt with no bra. Headlights swept across the driveway.
“That must be the guy Derek sent.” He glanced at his father. “He’s going to stay with you until we return.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Don said. “I’m going with you.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Alan gripped his head, ready to pull his bandana off again. “You’d only be in the way.”
Dad’s head drooped. “Thanks a lot.”
“Lock him up if you have to,” Alan told the guard when he walked in. “Keep him safe.”
He’d have his hands full protecting his mate. His gut twisted at the thought of leaving his father alone even for a couple of hours. How could he leave him for good tomorrow?
He couldn’t face that day yet. Wasn’t even sure he could get through tonight.
Hand in hand, he and Shelley ran out the door.
“Let’s take my truck,” she said.
