by Anya Nowlan
“So all the shifter talk hasn’t scared you off?” Pierce joked.
“You know, I did think you and your friends were all similarly… burly,” she laughed. “I’m assuming they’re shifters, too?”
“All except for Joanne’s brother,” he replied. “Will’s actually next in line for Alpha of the clan. His dad is the current leader, but he’s getting up there in age, and now that Will is getting married to his mate, it seems everything is falling into place.”
“That sounds like a lot of responsibility,” Tory said.
“It is, but Will’s up for it. He’s always been the responsible one,” Pierce grinned.
“Unlike you?” she asked, smiling at him.
“I’m evolving,” he laughed.
“Hmm,” Tory hummed, tapping her chin with her finger. “I wonder what the less evolved Pierce was like.”
“I partied a lot,” he admitted. “Didn’t take much seriously. Kind of coasted, really. But I got a dose of reality recently.”
Tory looked intrigued, but Pierce hesitated. Should he say more? This was supposed to be a fun, light date, but somehow, things had gotten unexpectedly deep. He didn’t mind, though. It was a nice change of pace, actually.
But perhaps death in the family was better suited for a third date, or at least a second.
“Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing,” he arched a brow at Tory. “We were supposed to be talking about you. Have you always been a teacher?”
“God, no,” she blurted out, flushing slightly as she did.
Chuckling, Pierce sipped his drink.
“Oh please, go on,” he prompted.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she shook her head, laughing. “But teaching was never really something I envisioned myself doing. I used to be a professional dancer. Part of one of the best troupes of New York. We did modern showcases, mostly. I actually started out with ballet as a kid, but I fell in love with the whole concept of dancing soon after.”
There was a glint in Tory’s eye as she talked about what was clearly her great passion in life. Pierce didn’t need to be a great dancer to appreciate her love for the art. It was beautiful, the way she lit up. Everyone should be lucky enough to find something they loved so much.
But her expression fell a little when she carried on.
“I was injured over a year ago,” she said, avoiding his gaze all of the sudden. “It wasn’t the same after that. My body couldn’t take the strain of that career anymore. It was tough to accept that.”
“I can only imagine,” Pierce replied. “I’m sorry that happened.”
“Thanks,” she said, giving him a weak smile. “I’m over it now. Mostly.”
Their eyes locked and Pierce reached across the table, taking her hand in his. She looked surprised at first, but didn’t pull away. Instead, she squeezed his fingers, tilting her head at him.
“You make me feel… not like myself,” she admitted, narrowing her eyes at him.
“And you think if you look at me long enough, you’ll find out why?” he asked.
“Maybe,” she pursed her lips. “And you are pretty good to look at.”
“Ooh, a compliment,” he raised a brow at her. “I guess you’re okay, too.”
Tory scoffed, playing at being offended, but there was a smile on her face.
“Just okay?” she questioned. “And are you always so persistent on getting a date with someone you think is ‘okay’?”
“All right, you got me,” he replied. “You’re stunning, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we first met.”
It was a risk, being that honest. But Pierce didn’t feel like holding back. He wanted Tory to know exactly how he felt. It was still too early to confess the big truth – that he was sure she was his mate – but he wanted to be as candid as possible, without scaring her away.
Tory smiled, her beautiful face glowing in the candlelight.
“I’d say that’s a lot better than ‘okay’,” she said.
“Then you better hold on, because I’m just getting started,” he replied with a grin.
With the plates and glasses in front of them empty and the restaurant nearing closing time, Pierce watched Tory laugh across the table. Conversation had flown freely all through dinner, and it seemed like they were both completely at ease with each other.
They had seamlessly moved from heavier topics to lighter ones, with Pierce regaling her with stories of teenage mischief. Like the time he, Will and Gage snuck out to hang out with some girls, only to get dragged home by their parents.
“Ouch,” Tory remarked. “That had to be embarrassing.”
“Oh, teenage me thought it was the worst thing to ever happen,” Pierce chuckled. “Looking like a fool in front of my crush? Terrible,” he shook his head. “In hindsight though, we really should have thought about the fact our folks could easily track us down by scent alone.”
“Damn,” Tory said. “You’re making me appreciate my human parents. At least they couldn’t smell where I was.”
“Well, Black Oak is also a small town, as you might have noticed. Not many places for teenagers to hang out in. That kind of narrows the search down.”
“I never got in trouble as a kid,” Tory replied. “I never had the time. I was always running from one practice to the next.”
“But you don’t regret it,” Pierce stated.
“I don’t,” she confirmed, smiling. “I always needed to be the best. And I was willing to put in the work.”
“You’re going to be one amazing teacher, then,” he replied.
“I think you have a lot more faith in me at this point than I do, but I appreciate it,” Tory said.
The waiter chose that moment to appear with their bill, and Pierce quickly paid it, ignoring Tory’s objections.
“I pestered you into this date, so it’s only fair,” he said, and that seemed to be enough for Tory.
“All right,” she shrugged. “Next one’s on me, then.”
“Next one?” Pierce arched a brow at her. “Bold assumption. What if I say no?”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she laughed.
They got up from the table, with Pierce helping her with her leather jacket. They made their way to the door, stepping out into the chill of the night. The streets were mostly empty, with lights glowing behind nearby windows.
Tory clutched her jacket tighter, shuffling on her feet.
“Can I walk you home?” Pierce asked.
She nodded, pointing to the right.
“My apartment is down that street, near what Joanne called the best coffee shop in town,” she said.
“She would know,” Pierce chuckled, taking her hand in his. “That woman is a caffeine fiend.”
Tory’s hand was small in his palm, her skin soft against his calloused hand. Pierce loved the way she casually leaned against him as they walked toward her place, like they had been on a hundred dates already.
Their time together had flown past, and Pierce wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
“They’re coming in for a private lesson tomorrow, Will and her,” Tory replied.
They chatted more about the upcoming wedding, and how Gage had offered up his ranch and the considerable land surrounding it for a venue. But far too soon, Tory came to a stop in front of a red brick apartment building, with a small stoop leading up to the front door.
“This is me,” she said. “For now, at least.”
Pierce still held on to her hand as they stood there, the air between them suddenly filling up with tension. He stepped closer, intertwining his fingers with hers, and the quickening thud of her heart was music to his ears.
“I had a great time with you tonight,” he said.
“Me, too,” she replied, grinning as he held her gaze.
Pierce was getting ready to lean in and kiss her when she spoke again, the words rushing out.
“Do you want to come up for a drink?” she asked, making him raise his brows.
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So maybe she was as reluctant to call it a night as he was. Pierce smiled to himself, his bear growling softly in his chest. The thought popped into his head that maybe he should slow down, take it easy with Tory.
Ah, who am I kidding?
There was no way he was going to say no to his mate, and he knew it.
Eleven
Tory
Panicking just a little bit, Tory lead Pierce upstairs to her apartment, keys jingling in her hand as she opened up the door to her rental. There were still some boxes strewn around in the hallway which she quickly pushed to the side, feeling more flustered than ever before.
The decision to invite Pierce up had not been a thought-out one. It was borne more of an impulse, and the question had tumbled over her lips before she could stop herself. Like Joanne had advised, she was going with her gut, and hoping this time, it wouldn’t fail her.
Shrugging off her jacket and kicking off her shoes, she waited for Pierce to do the same before showing him inside to the living room. Luckily, the mess in there was minimal, with only a couple of dishes in the sink and a box of CDs on the floor.
Yeah, so CDs were a little outdated. That didn’t mean she was going to throw away her collection. Besides, each album carried with it a memory, a dance choreographed to one of the songs, or just a tune that had been a soundtrack to her life at one point or another.
Her senses were keyed up as she walked over to the fridge, listening to Pierce move around behind her. The place had an open plan, with exposed brick walls and a spacious living room leading straight into the kitchen.
A bedroom was tucked away in the back, with a big closet she had always dreamed of. It was a mess right now, though, as she had spent a good half an hour tossing her wardrobe around, deciding on what to wear for the date.
“Nice place,” Pierce commented.
“Thanks,” she said. “I was lucky to get it on such short notice. And I could barely afford a shoebox in New York for the price I’m paying for it.”
She rummaged around in the refrigerator as if hoping for a miracle, since she knew damn well there was nothing in there but some leftovers and a tray of ice cubes in the freezer.
Well, how was I supposed to know future Tory wouldn’t be able to resist inviting Pierce over? she sighed to herself.
“Uh,” she stammered, closing the fridge and resting her back against it. “I’ve got water and… water,” she admitted, as Pierce’s gaze swung to her.
“Ms. Jones,” Pierce gasped. “Did you entice me here with a drink that doesn’t exist? You don’t have any ulterior motives, do you?”
His tone was teasing, his eyes glittering as his gaze moved up her body, and suddenly her throat was so dry, she wouldn’t mind a glass of water herself. Why had she invited him up? It was painfully obvious now it wasn’t just to share a drink.
No, she wanted more than that. She wanted to have him all to herself, away from everyone else. The urge was stronger than common sense or being careful and reasonable about their budding relationship.
That ship had sailed. She was already too drawn to him, to the way he made her laugh, the way he made her feel. He made her reckless, and she liked it. The rules didn’t matter when she was with him.
“What if I do?” she found herself saying.
“I wasn’t that thirsty anyway,” he shrugged, his broad shoulders moving under his shirt.
Tory stood silently as he stepped toward her, his palms flattening against the fridge on either side of her head. A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine as he boxed her in, bending his head down.
His lips brushed against hers, gentle and soft, as if gauging her reaction. Butterflies filled her stomach, the moment feeling a lot more intimate than when they had shared a kiss at the dance studio.
She knew exactly where this was leading. Was she ready for that? Just yesterday, the answer would have been a resounding no. Tory wasn’t sure exactly what had changed, but she could recognize her interactions with Pierce were profoundly different from anything she had experienced before.
When Pierce deepened the kiss, she couldn’t help but arch her back and press against him, needy and desperate. It was the sort of kiss you felt from head to toe, the kind that melted two people together with the pure heat of it. How was she expected to resist that?
More problematic, she didn’t want to resist. He wanted her and she wanted him. Boiled down to that, it was simple, really. Why should she deny herself something she wanted? Pierce was single, and so was she. They were both adults.
But all of her reasoning aside, it was the throb in her core and the heat in her veins that ultimately made the decision for her. And once she let herself just go with the flow, her instincts took over.
Reaching out, she ran her hands up the sides of Pierce’s torso, feeling the ripple of muscles beneath her fingers. He groaned, his hands falling away from the fridge and grabbing onto her hips instead.
From there, they dipped lower, sliding between her and the fridge, squeezing her ass and pulling her closer. A jolt of adrenaline surged through her, lust clouding her thoughts. Locking her hands behind his neck, she reveled in the slow, lingering way he kissed her breath away.
Bodies pressed together, she could feel his erection digging into her stomach, and it only fueled her need for him. Knowing she turned him on just as much as he did her was intoxicating.
She gasped when he suddenly lifted her up, guiding her legs to wrap around him. With her back still pressed against the fridge, she couldn’t help but grind against him, the want building inside her making her stomach twist in knots.
Being that overwhelmed was a new and heady feeling. Pierce’s erection now pressed firmly against the apex of her thighs, rubbing against her throbbing clit. She squirmed and bucked her hips in blind need, her hands moving from his neck down his broad shoulders and sculpted arms.
When he broke the kiss, her lips were tender and swollen and her breath ragged. He dragged his mouth down her neck, nipping at her flesh until goosebumps broke out over her body.
Resting her head against the fridge, she gulped in a breath as he trailed fire down her skin, stopping to kiss the tops of her breasts. Tory tried to gather herself enough to get words out, but he was making that really difficult.
“Did I…” she rasped, stopping to whimper when he pulled down the front of her dress and started kissing around her nipples. “Did I show you the bedroom yet?” she tried again, her voice throaty and unfamiliar.
He chuckled, his breath warm against her skin.
“You did not,” he said simply, before going back to teasing her nipples until they were hard, aching nubs.
“Maybe I should,” she replied.
“Maybe?” he asked, looking at her with dark, fiery eyes.
This was it. Her last chance to back out before lust took over completely and she couldn’t turn back even if she wanted to. Everything inside her was already screaming out for more, responding to Pierce’s every touch as if it were the first time she had ever had someone else’s hands on her.
“Definitely,” she ended up saying, going with her gut for once.
She had a feeling it wasn’t going to let her down this time.
Twelve
Pierce
With Tory still wrapped around him, Pierce walked them both to the bedroom, a wave of emotion crashing inside him. The way she tasted, smelled, felt under his touch was a powerful cocktail, and he could hardly believe what was happening.
My mate. All mine, the bear inside him growled.
They tumbled into bed together, a tangle of limbs, hands tugging at clothes. Pierce’s shirt was easy enough to get off, and so was his belt. But Tory’s dress had a zipper on the back, meaning he had to flip her over to get her out of it.
She giggled as he turned her over, running his hands up her amazing ass to the start of the zipper. He tugged at it, easily splitting the dress in two. Dipping his hands beneath the fabric, he ran his fingers down her bare skin, p
ushing the dress down in the process.
It bunched up near her waist, and she lifted her hips to let him pull it off, wiggling her ass in the process. He tossed the dress aside – beautiful as it had been on her, a naked Tory was a much more tempting sight.
Tory turned over onto her back, now only in her underwear and stockings. Biting her lip, she looked down at herself, seeming to struggle with something for a moment. Kneeling over her in his half-buttoned jeans, he stilled, studying her.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I…” she hesitated. “I have scars,” she finally admitted. “From the accident.”
“And you think I care about that?” Pierce asked.
“Not that exactly,” she replied. “But I’ve always kept them hidden. Only my doctor has really seen them.”
Sliding his hand onto one of her legs, feeling the fabric of the black stocking beneath his skin, Pierce looked at her, listening to her uneven breathing. Of course she would have trouble showing anyone the marks representing the end of her career as a professional dancer.
But that wasn’t how he thought of them.
“We can leave them on if you’d like,” he said, sliding his hand up to massage her thigh. “I don’t think you should hide them away, though. They’re signs of what you’ve been through, and a reminder you’ve come out on the other side.”
Tory looked at him, some emotion he couldn’t name flitting across her face. Finally, she seemed to relax, letting her head fall on the pillows behind her.
“You can take them off,” she said, her attention focusing on his hands.
Slowly, he moved his fingers to the band of the stockings, rolling it down. Smooth, pale skin came into view as he tugged it down before moving to the other leg. He could see her tense a little as he started removing the stocking on that one.
He let his fingers graze along the sides of her thigh as he carefully pulled it off. The scars she had warned him about started just above her knee, a long line of white, shiny skin that stretched down to her shin. Around it, smaller dots of scarred tissue speckled the skin around her knee, almost as if in an arranged pattern.
