Burn This! (A 300 Moons Book)(Bad Boy Alphas)

by Tasha Black

  “Neve, are you okay, let me see,” he said.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Let me see your hand.”

  Her voice made it clear there would be no argument. He’d heard the same tone from his mom on more than one occasion.

  Well, here it was, the moment of truth.

  He held out his hand and she examined his unmarked palm, her mouth slightly open in wonder.

  She looked down at him, her dark eyes flashing.

  “What…what is it about you, John Lazarus?” she said “You’re not like anyone else.”

  “You have no idea,” he replied.

  He tugged her hand, pulling her down to the sand with him, and after a second of resistance she let him.

  The dragon roared in satisfaction in his chest.

  She likes you anyway, boy, you see?

  “Let me see yours now,” Johnny said.

  She allowed him to examine her right hand. Her thumb and forefinger were red. Angry blisters had already begun surface.

  Without thinking, he drew her fingers into his mouth to soothe them.

  She gasped, but didn’t try to pull her hand back.

  He looked up into her eyes, and for the first time saw all the way through the professional veneer, into the woman. She was hungry, hungry for him as much as he was for her, maybe more so. And hungry for something else, too, though he didn’t know what.

  Slowly, so as to give her the chance to stop him, he eased his mouth off her fingers and nibbled kisses along the palm of her hand and up to the sensitive inside of her wrist, where her soft skin disappeared under the wet suit.

  With a sudden violence that surprised him a little, Johnny pulled her toward him.

  She toppled onto him, and he lay back in the sand, pulling her over with him.

  “W-we shouldn’t,” she whispered.

  “No, we shouldn’t,” he agreed, flipping them over so that he was on top of her.

  His heart beat like a drum. She was right there, beneath him, her chest heaving under his, her nipples teasing against him, even through her wetsuit.

  And she wasn’t trying to get up.

  The dragon was full of myths and lies. But when he had implied that Neve was their chosen mate… Johnny could sense the truth to it.

  How easy it would be to lay his claim on her, now as she lay trembling in his arms.

  21

  Neve was pinned between the cool sand and Johnny’s warm naked body. He stared down at her possessively, his amber eyes lighter than usual.

  It was probably just the effect of the sun behind him, but he seemed to be glowing, emanating warm rays of appeal, like he had that first day he arrived. The day she’d told herself she must be overtired if she was seeing a halo on bad boy Johnny Lazarus.

  He was the most interesting, the most compelling patient she’d ever worked with.

  Patient, patient, oh god.

  “No, Johnny, you’re my patient, I’m supposed to help you—” she began, trying half-heartedly to scramble out from under his big body.

  “Then help me,” he whispered, and covered her mouth with his.

  Neve had read romance novels all her life. She knew all the over the top ways a kiss could be described.

  None of them could equal what Johnny was doing to her.

  His mouth was warm and demanding, yet his pace was uncannily slow. He didn’t try to force his tongue into her mouth, he didn’t try to unzip her wet suit or do anything else that would get them to the next step.

  He kissed her. He just kissed her, as if he could press his lips to hers for an eternity, as if there were nothing else in the world that could ever compete for his time or attention.

  When she was nearly dizzy, she opened her mouth for a breath.

  Suddenly, he grasped her lower lip between his teeth and teased it with his tongue.

  She felt her body arch up against his before she could stop herself.

  He growled against her mouth with satisfaction and stroked her tongue with his.

  Neve let her fingers wrap around his upper arms. He was so solid, so muscular, an ancient part of her felt safe at the bulge of those biceps.

  The nurse in her head called to her from far away that this was her patient.

  But he felt so… right.

  Neve had never been good at relationships - she had been driving men away by putting work first since the day she graduated from nursing school.

  But Johnny made her want to throw her cell phone into the sea, not that it was good for anything anymore anyway. And to her surprise, she didn’t even care. In fact, she felt relief at the thought of being untethered with him.

  He was not like the rest. Nothing like the rest of the patients, nothing like the rest of the men she had dated, nothing like the rest of the human race, as far as Neve was concerned.

  He pulled away from her mouth to trail kisses down her neck.

  His mouth was so warm.

  It’s hot, really, she found herself thinking as he tugged down the zipper of her wetsuit.

  Why did I think he needed a fire, or a blanket?, she asked herself as his scorching mouth came down between her breasts.

  Neve struggled to keep her train of thought, as her body begged silently for less thinking.

  She’d thought he needed a blanket because he seemed like he was in shock.

  But he wasn’t. Or he wouldn’t be doing this.

  He licked one nipple into his mouth and Neve tried not to cry out, forcing herself to keep thinking. She was on the edge of figuring something out, if only he wasn’t playing her body like that guitar of his…

  He always seemed so cool and together.

  Why was he even at the sanctuary?

  He was there because he was an addict. His oafish behavior at intake was textbook addict behavior.

  But he wasn’t an addict.

  He just wasn’t.

  The truth hit her hard and fast.

  Textbook…

  All of his behavior was textbook. Like he had read about these things and acted them out.

  Johnny was sucking gently on her nipple, teasing the other with his fingers.

  Her whole body was frenzied with need.

  She could feel him hard against her thigh, the emptiness in her own body crying out for him to fill her.

  Why, oh, why did she have to think so much?

  Why couldn’t she ever just enjoy her life?

  But she couldn’t. Because she knew he wasn’t an addict anymore than he was in shock right now.

  That was why he wouldn’t allow the sanctuary’s doctors to look at him.

  “Johnny, stop,” she said brokenly.

  He shook his head and moaned into her chest, the vibration of the sound bringing more pleasure than she thought she could bear.

  “Stop,” she said in the firmest, coldest voice she could.

  He leapt off her immediately, sitting back on the sand with both hands up, as if to show that he was not trying to take advantage.

  “You… you’re not what you seem,” she said, sitting up and zipping her suit.

  He cocked his head, but didn’t speak.

  “You acted exactly like you were in shock, but obviously you’re not. You came into the sanctuary showing every symptom in the book for addiction, but you’re clearly not an addict,” she said firmly.

  She waited for him to argue with her.

  But he only looked out over the water.

  “You lied to me, John Lazarus,” she accused him at last, her voice breaking on his name.

  He turned to her again, his jaw taut, pain in his eyes.

  But he did not deny it.

  She heard the sound of the boat engine before she could accuse him again. Maurice was coming at last to rescue them.

  At least they hadn’t been making out in plain view when Maurice arrived.

  Neve had risked her career today, just to canoodle with an interesting liar. She was very lucky to have had her realization when she did.

  So
why did she feel so broken inside?

  It wasn’t just the needs of her body, still surging and pounding, pulling her to him almost magnetically, even as she tried to calm herself.

  It was more the feeling that if Johnny Lazarus didn’t take her in his arms again and look into her soul with those amber eyes, she would die.

  22

  Johnny made it through the awful boat ride with the thermal blanket around his waist. He made it past reception, where Angela fussed stupidly over him, drool practically rolling out of her mouth as she spoke directly to his abs.

  He made it all the way to his room, before he let himself own his feelings.

  The door shut behind him and he was alone with his thoughts and the achingly beautiful view of the sun going down over the purple cliffs.

  Johnny knew he should be worried about the implications of allowing Neve to see him put his hand in the fire.

  He should be beside himself that she had accused him of faking his addiction and he hadn’t argued.

  Between those two things, he had given her the tools to know that something was very wrong with him. It could put him in danger if she used her usual determination to get to the root of her patients’ problems.

  And if that happened the whole shifter community could be endangered too - his brothers and sisters, Mom for consorting with them, and even the pack in Tarker’s Hollow.

  So why was he still lost in the ecstasy of her sweet scent, the feel of her soft brown skin, the luminous glow of those dark eyes - so sophisticated and yet so innocent at once?

  Why had holding her brought on that rare feeling that man and dragon wanted the same thing?

  He’d heard the other kids whisper about mates and mating. Finding a mate was supposed to be some kind of true love at first sight thing. A fairy tale - a myth. It was the sort of tall tale the dragon loved to whisper in his ear.

  But when he was with Neve, there was a strange otherworldly feeling about it. It was like his ear had recognized her voice from their first meeting, before he had even turned to look at her.

  He wondered if she felt it too.

  Then he remembered the look on her face when she had accused him.

  You lied to me, John Lazarus.

  She certainly didn’t seem to be feeling any kind of otherworldly connection then.

  It pained him to believe that whatever they could have been to each other, he had lost that chance. He couldn’t imagine being here for another minute without hoping to bump into her and basking in her gentle smile when he did.

  Well it didn’t matter, it was done. And he couldn’t leave now. The moon was nearly over. He just needed to hang on for a few more days, resist the dragon and it would be gone forever. It would have to be.

  As the moonlight began to flow into the room, Johnny felt the familiar tingling on the surface of his skin. It was stronger now than it had been even a few days ago.

  He sat down on the edge of the bed.

  He would stay in his room for the rest of this moon. If he kept to himself, then he couldn’t make any more mistakes or endanger anyone.

  His heart ached again for Neve and he reached for Ruby to ease the pain.

  Just then a soft knock sounded on his door.

  He shot off the bed and opened it, expecting to see Neve, ready to fall at her feet and beg her to give him time.

  Instead, Jocelyn’s tired gray eyes peered through her long blonde hair.

  “Hey,” she said. “What happened?”

  “Nothing,” he said, starting to shut the door.

  She put her hand in the frame.

  “I saw Neve.”

  That got his attention.

  “I’ve never seen her like that,” she continued. “You don’t have to tell me anything, but I’m guessing you could use a friend right now. Someone who knows what it’s like to feel alone, even with thousands of people screaming your name.”

  Defeated, he raised his hands and she slipped inside. He closed the door behind her.

  She immediately sat on the floor next to the bed, and looked out over the cliffs.

  “That’s nice, Johnny. Your view is even better than mine. It figures.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, already sorry he’d let her in. He couldn’t amuse the kid while he was licking his own wounds. But she looked so forlorn, he couldn’t exactly kick her out.

  “Play me something, will you?” she asked, still gazing out the window.

  He smiled to himself.

  That might just help both of them.

  He grabbed little Ruby, sat on the edge of the bed, and thought about what songs might soothe a lonely girl and a heartbroken man.

  23

  Neve paced the floor of the break room, practically crushing an unopened can of Coke in her hand.

  Angela sat in the corner, painting her fingernails and watching Neve curiously.

  Neve had no words to spare for the silly girl, though. She was too busy fuming about Johnny Lazarus.

  How could he? How dare he?

  And to think, she had actually been on her way to his room to talk to him about the whole mess, when she saw him letting little miss pop princess in.

  He certainly didn’t waste any time.

  She’d thought Johnny was different, but just like everyone else in her life, he demonstrated that he had no respect for what she did. He made a mockery of her whole profession, and of the other patients as well. He attended a group session as an imposter, for goodness sake.

  She was the one who had insisted that McGrath refuse a very high profile celebrity actor who wanted to come here as “research” because of the insult to the needs and privacy of the real clients.

  Now someone had slipped in under their noses, garnering unearned sympathy. My god, in that group session, she had actually wanted to run after him.

  She stopped her tracks thinking about it.

  She had wanted to run after him.

  None of his textbook behaviors had brought out a visceral reaction in her.

  Which could mean that he really had been upset.

  She recalled the haunted look in his eyes. What was it he had said to her by the fire?

  Like looking into a mirror…

  It was too much to fake. Johnny Lazarus was deeply disturbed about something. He was hurting. But he wasn’t an addict.

  She popped the tab and took a long pull of Coke. The sweetness of the cool liquid went right to her head, making her feel better almost instantly.

  She began to pace again.

  So something was wrong with Johnny. But what was it?

  And why couldn’t she get him out of her head?

  “So why was he naked?” Angela’s voice wrenched Neve out of the graphic memory of what had happened on the beach, and the fantasy of what might have happened in other circumstances.

  “I’ve got work to do,” Neve announced, pouring the rest of her drink down the sink and throwing the can in recycling.

  “Do you, um, think he needs comforting?” Angela asked, unsubtly plucking open the top button of her blouse.

  The thought of Angela and Johnny made Neve’s blood boil. But she choked down her rage.

  “I think someone already beat you to it,” she said casually and walked out as fast as she could.

  Nailed it.

  She was going to bang on Johnny’s door and get some answers, whether he liked it or not. And if Jocelyn was in there, too bad. She was just doing her job, after all.

  Completely professional.

  But Angela’s unbearable tinkling laughter followed her all the way down the hall.

  24

  The last soft pink light of sunset lingered on the purple cliffs. Johnny studied it, trying not to picture Neve descending the similar craggy wall of the island, radiant with the sun in her hair.

  He turned back to his suitcase and resumed packing jeans and t-shirts into it.

  He couldn’t believe his time here was up. After tonight, the 300th moon’s influence would begin to wane.
He was going to make it.

  Wildly, he fantasized about a life where he didn’t have to worry about restraining the dragon.

  Boring.

  The creature’s voice echoed in his head, a hint of sadness pervading its usually dry tone.

  What do you care? Johnny asked it. You don’t like being mine any more than I like being yours.

  It tried to answer, but he shut it down. Talking to it tonight was dangerous. He had been foolish to allow himself to be drawn in. What if it convinced him to do something to keep it around?

  He zipped up his suitcase, grabbed his duffel and deposited them both at the foot of the bed. He’d be checking out early tomorrow, hopefully before Neve came on shift.

  He sat on the bed and stared out the window. For once, he didn’t feel like playing his guitar.

  A hazy glow of moonlight filtered in, and Johnny’s heart began to kick like a bass drum. The surface of his skin tingled.

  He just needed to hold it in for one more night.

  A scuttling sound from somewhere in the room grabbed his attention.

  Johnny spun around, no one was there.

  The sound grew closer, almost on top of him before he saw it.

  Tacos, Jocelyn’s pet iguana, scurried toward him at top speed.

  The little guy had been a regular visitor to Johnny’s room lately. Jocelyn was spending most of her time holed up in here with him, listening to Johnny write songs, even helping with a few. She was surprisingly good at cutting to the emotional core of a piece.

  But she had never allowed Tacos to come calling on his own.

  Odd.

  Tacos himself looked kind of odd, now that Johnny thought about it. His usual soft steps were hard, and he staggered, as if he had forgotten to use his tail to help him move.

  His little eyes, which normally had wide amber irises much like Johnny’s, were all black.

  Poor little dude must be sick.

  Johnny bent and called to him, hoping to catch him in his arms and bring him back to Jocelyn so she could get him to a vet.

  The little lizard obliged, running straight up to Johnny and hopping into his waiting arms.