Wild Invitation: A Psy/Changeling Anthology (Psy-Changeling)

by Nalini Singh

  “Isn’t that what mates do?”

  “Sure. But he’s being an ass about it. He’s not exactly meeting your demands, is he?”

  Tamsyn scowled on Nate’s behalf. “You don’t—”

  “Don’t you dare defend him,” Juanita ordered. “And don’t you back down, either. You’re just giving him a taste of his own medicine. This is what he’s been doing to you for over a year. Let him see how he likes it.”

  It made sense, but Tamsyn wasn’t a soldier, to think of love like strategy. Her heart was that of a healer—gentle and easy to forgive. “He hates it.”

  “Good.” The other woman grinned. “If you don’t allow him access to you anytime he wants to feed the animal’s need to be close to you, he’s going to get desperate sooner rather than later. Then he’ll jump you and, bang, we’ll all live happily ever after.”

  Tamsyn nodded. She liked the idea of being jumped by a sexually hungry Nate. “If he doesn’t do it soon, I might attack him myself.” Her sensitivity to his proximity was getting worse, the mere sound of his voice enough to melt her to damp readiness.

  Juanita grinned. “I give him a week.”

  • • •

  TWO nights later, Tamsyn decided Juanita was a genius. Nate was scowling at her from across the Pack Circle, such violent need in those midnight blue eyes that she could feel her stomach twist itself into a thousand knots.

  “Stop staring at him,” she muttered noiselessly to herself. She hadn’t said much more than hello to him for the past forty-eight hours, but if she didn’t keep her eyes to herself, he’d figure out just how hard it was for her to maintain her distant air. She ached for him and the ache was a pulsing beat in every inch of her skin…and worse in lower, hotter places.

  Breaking the connection through sheer effort of will, she focused on the dancers in the middle of the Circle. They were part of an impromptu gathering sparked by the full yellow moon, a happy diversion from the general air of wary alertness that had gripped DarkRiver since the attack by the ShadowWalkers. That wasn’t to say that their defenses were compromised. Those on watch were being spelled by off-duty packmates so everyone could join in the fun.

  And it was fun—warm, friendly, brilliantly alive. Several people had pulled out instruments and the music was energetic and strong. She clapped along with the players, and when Lucas came to offer her his hand, she took it with a smile. “Watch out, I’ve got two left feet.”

  He grinned, the savage markings on one side of his face—markings he’d been born with—making him look more panther than boy. “Good thing I don’t scare easy.”

  Laughing, she let him swirl her around in an energetic dance that required enough of her concentration that she almost stopped thinking about Nate. When the tall juvenile snapped her back into his arms, she was breathless. “You’re in a good mood,” she said, glad to see him happy for once.

  There was darkness in Lucas, such darkness. She knew it would be there until the day he took vengeance on those who had stolen his family from him. He was four years younger than her, but looking into those eyes, she saw not a child but a man. Lucas would one day be an alpha of incredible strength, of that she had no doubt.

  He held her closer, touching her with the easy friendliness of Pack. She rested her cheek against his shoulder and swayed to the gentler beat that had replaced the pounding dance music. “So?”

  “So I thought you needed to be held.” The words were blunt, the tone affectionate.

  “Thank you. I did.” There was no need to lie. Not with Pack.

  “Dorian said you don’t want us to beat some sense into Nate.” He sighed as if in disappointment. “Are you sure?”

  She laughed at his teasing. “I like him in one piece, but thanks for the offer.”

  “Do you want to dance with him? ’Cause he’s heading this way.”

  Chapter 7

  SHE SMELLED THE rich earthiness of Nathan’s distinctive scent before she could answer. It hit her system like a drug. An instant later, the heavy weight of his hand dropped on to her hip. “Luc. Go find a girl your own age.”

  Lucas released her. “I think I like sexy older women—why don’t I keep Tammy and you find someone else?”

  Nate’s growl was met with unrepentant laughter as Lucas threw Tammy a wink and walked away. She paid little attention to the exchange, her entire body focused on Nate as he placed both his hands low on her hips and pulled her back against his chest. “What the hell are you wearing?” He spoke against her ear, his breath hot.

  It was an effort to think. “Jeans and a sweater. Is that a crime?”

  “The sweater is orange and anyone can see down your cleavage.”

  She forced herself to laugh. “Nate, the vee isn’t that deep and the color is soft peach, not orange.” It went beautifully with her hair and eyes, throwing up golden highlights she’d never have believed possible.

  “It’s fucking painted on your body, just like your jeans.”

  “Watch your mouth, Nathan Ryder.” Firming up her tone, she put her hands over his and began to sway against him. It wasn’t a calculated act—her body simply craved the contact. “I’m nineteen years old. This is what women my age wear.”

  His breath seemed to catch for an instant. “You don’t.”

  No, she didn’t. It had always seemed to her that she shouldn’t aggravate the situation between them by being deliberately sexual. But tonight, she’d followed Juanita’s advice again and gone wild. The jeans—bought on a whim in New York—shaped her butt, and from the good-natured whistles she’d inspired in male packmates, it wasn’t a bad butt.

  As for the long-forgotten sweater, baggy when she’d been a gangly thirteen, it was made of a soft, strokable material that did feel painted on over her now-womanly figure. That was the point. It was meant to make it hotly clear to Nate that she was a sexual young female, not a nun happy to wait for him to make up his mind.

  “I decided it was time to change my personal style.” She moved against him again, exquisitely aware of the unforgiving ridge of his erection. “Have some fun before we settle down, exactly like you wanted.”

  “Stop that.” But he didn’t do anything to halt her subtle erotic movements. “This kind of fun isn’t good for the blood pressure of the other men.” He pulled her even closer.

  “They know I’m yours,” she murmured, feeling her skin flush. “Only yours.”

  “Then why are you dressed like an invitation?”

  For you, you idiot, she wanted to say. “I wanted to feel sexy.” She shrugged. “I haven’t had much of a chance to explore that side of me.” That, at least, was true. Between Nate’s pigheadedness and her responsibilities, she hadn’t had much play in her life. She did so want to play with Nate—silly, intimate, affectionate games.

  His hands tightened. “And what are you going to do after getting yourself all heated up like this?” It was a half-growled question, but she knew him well enough to know that that roughness was an indication of need, not anger.

  She tilted her head, looking up at him as he looked down. “I bought a friend.”

  He seemed to choke for a second. “A friend?”

  “Uh-huh. He vibrates.” It was a whisper meant to carry to his ears alone. “I think I’ll try him out tonight.”

  His fingers were pressing down so hard, he was probably going to leave bruises. She didn’t care. Not when he was burning her up with the heat in his eyes. “Don’t.”

  Raising her arms, she linked them behind his neck. “Why not?”

  “Your first time shouldn’t be with that.”

  She shrugged. “I’m getting older, Nathan. I have needs.” Dark, clawing needs. Needs only he could fulfill.

  “Promise me you won’t use that stupid toy.”

  “It’s not stupid.” She rubbed against the hardness of him and heard him suck in a breath. “It’s smaller than you, though.”

  “Christ.” Pulling her arms off his neck, he spun her around so she faced him. “D
on’t. Use. That. Thing.” It was an order.

  “Why not?” She pressed into him, the leopard in her inciting a desire to taunt, to torment. “Lots of women do it.”

  Eyes going cat, he leaned down to speak against her ear, his lips teasing a suddenly sensitive portion of her anatomy. “If you promise not to use it on yourself tonight,” he whispered, “I’ll use it on you.”

  Her legs threatened to collapse. “When?”

  “Promise first.”

  She was weak, so weak where he was concerned. “I promise I won’t use it tonight.”

  He nipped at the shell of her ear and it was then she realized he’d danced them to the farthest edge of the Pack Circle, well away from the reach of the temporary lights. She whimpered and held on. “Nate.”

  “Shh. It won’t be that long, baby.” His hand stroked over her back, a rigid inflexibility to his body that hadn’t been there before. “You need a little more time.”

  A nauseous feeling twisted through her. “Nate, you said you’d—”

  “When the time is right.” There it was again, that tense restraint…as if with her surrender, he had found control.

  Anger and pain mixed a caustic brew inside her. “Well,” she said, wrenching away from him, “I only promised not to use it tonight.”

  “Tamsyn.”

  “And,” she continued, “I’m not going to fall for that dirty trick again.” She began backing into the Circle. “I’m sick of being teased and left wanting. Tomorrow night, I’m taking care of business.”

  • • •

  TAKING care of business.

  Nate glared into his morning coffee and then at the duty roster he’d just received from Cian. Punching in the sentinel’s code on the comm console, he waited for Cian’s face to appear. “What the hell are you on? This roster is a joke!” He was so pissed, he consigned seniority and rank to Hades.

  Cian blinked. “I heard you wanted to be on the perimeter, away from Tammy.”

  “I don’t recall asking for that particular favor.”

  The other man winced at his tone. “You do make a point of avoiding her whenever she comes after you.” He frowned. “Though she seems to have stopped doing that lately.”

  That observation made Nate’s incisors threaten to erupt. The leopard was not happy with Tamsyn right now. Neither was the man. They both wanted to bite. To dominate. To mark. “Switch me with Juanita.”

  “You sure?” Cian scowled. “You’re not exactly in a good mood. Do you want to be around Tammy?”

  It was an insult—as if he’d ever hurt her. “If I had wanted advice, I’d have asked for it. Switch.”

  “Fine.” Cian threw up his hands. “I’ll tell Nita.”

  “And mind your own damn business from now on.” Turning off the comm, he finished his coffee and headed out. He was hungry, but he figured Tammy would have something—she was the best cook in DarkRiver.

  His new watch area was in the immediate vicinity of the Pack Circle and included Tammy’s home among a few others. On his first pass, it appeared she was still asleep, but he caught the sharp freshness of tea leaves on the second pass. Since he’d remained in human form, it was easy to walk up to her back door and knock.

  He knew she had to have scented him, but she peered out suspiciously from the kitchen window before opening the door with a scowl. “What are you doing here?”

  Okay, so she was still mad. His cock throbbed at the memory of the events that had led to their fight. He wanted to put his hands on the sweet curves of her bottom, crush her to him, and kiss the hell out of her bad mood.

  “Good morning to you, too, sunshine,” he managed to say through the chokehold of desire. It was torture being near her, but that was infinitely better than the distance she’d maintained over the past few days.

  “You’re just hungry.” She snorted and turned away, leaving the door open.

  He walked in to find her at the counter, cutting slices of bread from what looked like a home-baked loaf. He forced himself to stand to the side instead of going behind her and bending down to draw in the lusciously feminine scent along the line of her throat. “Only bread today?”

  She lifted the knife and pointed it in his direction. “Do you want to get fed or not?”

  “I love bread.” He knew how to stroke his mate when she needed stroking. His mind immediately took the image and ran with it, ratcheting his hunger past explosive. “Why are you half-dressed?” She was wearing his old football shirt and those ridiculous pink fluffy slippers. Sexy and adorable. A killer combination.

  “I was minding my own business in my own house. You’re the one who decided to intrude.” She slapped some butter onto a slice of bread and shoved it in his direction.

  He decided not to ask for jam. “Bad night?”

  “Nate,” she said very quietly, gripping the edge of the counter with her hands. “Did you come here to gloat?”

  He put down the half-eaten piece of bread. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You know exactly what I’m talking about!” She turned and poked at his chest with a sharp finger. “Look, I can make stupid, virginal Tammy Mahaire so hot she doesn’t know which way is up. I can leave her gasping for me and walk away as if it doesn’t matter!”

  “Hey.” He grabbed at her hand, but she pulled away. “I didn’t mean anything like that. I didn’t have a good night’s sleep, either.”

  “Oh, that makes it all right!” She threw up her arms. “We were both miserable. Whoop-de-frickin’-do!”

  There was no missing the sarcasm. It dripped from every word. “What the hell is it with you lately?” He succeeded in trapping her against the counter.

  “Nothing!” She shoved at him but he was far stronger. “Go away. Go away and leave me alone. Don’t you get that? How many times do I have to tell you?”

  “You don’t get to do that—I’m your mate.”

  She stopped fighting, her chest heaving. “No, Nate, like I told you before, you don’t get to pick and choose which parts of the mating bond you want to accept. As far as your treatment of me goes, I’m not your mate. I’m simply another young, uninteresting female.”

  “Don’t be an idiot.”

  “I’m not. I’m sexually frustrated.” She narrowed her eyes. “But as we discussed last night, that can be easily fixed.”

  He snapped. How could she possibly think to replace him with some mechanical object? Masculine pride, pure need, and raw heat made for a volatile combination. “Sex? That’s really what this is about?” He pushed harder into her, crushing the softness of her thighs under his.

  Instead of backing off, she pushed into him. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Clear enough for you?”

  “Fine.” Grabbing her waist, he lifted her onto the counter, spreading her knees wide in the same move. Something fell to the floor and shattered, but he didn’t give a shit. “You want to fuck, we’ll fuck.”

  A hint of uncertainty moved over her face. “Nate—”

  He closed his hand over the bare skin of her upper thigh. “You’re backing off? Don’t want me now that you’re faced with the reality?”

  Her lower lip quivered. “Not like this,” she whispered. “Why are you being so mean?”

  The protective male core of him couldn’t bear to see her looking so emotionally bruised, but they had to have this out. He couldn’t handle being pushed the way she’d been pushing him since her return from New York. “I’m trying to give you something—I’m trying to love you the only way I know how, and you’re rejecting it because you’re hot for sex?” That hurt him. Her freedom was the biggest gift he could give her. Some days, the cost it demanded threatened to drive him to murder.

  “No, Nathan, no.” She cupped his face in her hands. “I just need you—all of you—so much that I’m going crazy. I need your laugh. I need your company. I need you to sleep beside me and I need you to wake when I wake. I need you with everything in me.”

  “Then stop with the sex talk. It’s not you.�
��

  Her hands dropped to his shoulders. “It’s not me?” A soft question.

  “No. You’re warm and practical and loyal. You don’t go around flaunting yourself like a—” He caught himself before he said something unforgivable.

  “Why don’t I finish it for you—like a bitch in heat—that’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it?”

  Chapter 8

  “DAMN IT, TAMMY, don’t look like that.” He was the one who cupped her face this time—her spine was straight, but she couldn’t hide the hurt in her eyes. “All this, the way you’ve been talking and dressing, it’s not anything normal for you and you know it.”

  She looked at him through her lashes. “Yeah. Don’t know what I was thinking.”

  His beast didn’t like the flatness in her tone. Reacting instinctively, he bent until their foreheads touched. “Come on, where’s my sweet Tammy?” He missed the woman who had become his closest friend over the years, the one with whom he could totally lower his guard. It was something he hadn’t been able to do since the day she’d started pushing at him. “Tamsyn?”

  “I’m fine and I’m also late.” She gave him a shaky smile, then pressed her hands gently against his chest. “Some of the kids will be here soon to finish up their ornaments. I’d better get dressed. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  “You sure you’re all right, baby?” His leopard was pacing inside his skull, growling that something was wrong.

  “Just a headache. Lack of sleep, you know.” She shrugged, making the former point of contention a joke. When her lips curved upward in a deeper smile, the leopard relaxed.

  “Yeah, I do.” Laughing, he helped her down from the counter, then lifted her over the mess of the broken jam jar on the floor. “Go get changed. I’ll clean this up and head out to continue my watch.”

  “Here.” She reached out, picked up a muffin from a tin, and gave it to him. “I made them for the kids.”

  He bit into it. “Good thing I got here first.”