by Haley Weir
“I love you, Jenny. And I’d like to come home now, if you’d let me.”
“I want nothing more.” She helped him carry his bags inside. Jenny had come too close to letting her heart walk away and she was ashamed of it. They set his bags down on the floor at the foot of the bed and Jenny began to peel away his layers of clothing like a perfectly wrapped present. Though he hadn’t been gone for long, she missed his touch and his kiss.
Dorian’s intense gaze made her tremble slightly. She led him over to the bed, but this time, he was the one that laid her down. Jenny gasped when she felt his weight on top of her, loving the heat of his body. Dorian forced her hands above her head, though her headboard was different than his, she caught on to his motives. “Grip the headboard. And don’t move them no matter what happens.”
She smiled and nodded. “I trust you.”
“Then show me.”
Dorian stole a quick kiss and reach into the bedside drawer for the bandana she used to tie her hair up with at night. He placed it over her eyes and secured it around the back of her head, checking to make sure it was tight enough so that she couldn’t see, but loose enough to not cause her discomfort. “Safe word?”
“Bubblegum.”
“My safe word is bubblegum.”
“Why bubblegum?”
“You should know,” she chuckled. “Because I’m soft, pink, and taste like candy.”
That succeeded in making him groan. “Fine. I vow not to move my hands until you agree to release me. Just…please touch me,” Dorian begged.
The memory paired with the sensation of being in his control made Jenny moan loudly. She squeezed her thighs together and earned a little slap as a result. Strong fingers pried her legs apart and Jenny fought to keep her breaths even. Those hands gripped the top of her yoga pants and shredded them down the center seam. Her back arched off the bed. She squealed a little as fabric was torn from her body.
She felt a fire stir within her; she wanted his possession. She wanted to be Dorian’s and no one else’s. “Please,” Jenny whimpered. His heated palms slid up her belly to cup her breasts, causing her gasp loudly. She felt undone already and he barely touched her. Jenny was tempted to let go of the headboard and run her fingers all over him, but she trusted Dorian.
“So lovely,” he whispered against her neck. Warm breath cascaded over sensitive skin and goose bumps rose on her flesh. Dorian’s hands ripped her shirt in the same way he had done to her pants. Jenny shivered at the show of strength even with his injury. Her mate was powerful. No one could deny that.
He did away with her bra and the scrap of thong before she could inhale her next breath. She was entirely at his mercy and that thrilled her. “No more running,” he grumbled darkly, reminding her that there was another side of him.
“Never. Not anymore.”
Dorian kissed her and she could taste the salt from both . She writhed beneath him, desperate for his touch, but he didn’t give in so easily. Teasing strokes from the pads of his fingers danced over her skin, not ticklish, but tantalizing. Her mouth opened wide as they journeyed lower. The bed shifted and suddenly his weight returned to her. Dorian’s hand continued it’s decent, but he could tell he moved closer to watch her face as he stroked her core.
“Dorian!”
“Beautiful, love. You’re so beautiful.” Butterfly kisses rained down upon her as he caressed her to the brink of madness before she felt the blunt head of his erection nudging the molten heat of her femininity. That delicious stretch caused Jenny’s muscles to tense as waves of sensation threatened to pull her under.
“Relax,” Dorian demanded in a firm voice. He sounded so controlled while she was falling apart at the seams. When she didn’t comply, he backed away from her entirely. She wanted to scream and insist that he return to her immediately, but she knew what he waited for. He waited for Jenny to submit to him in the way that he had done to her. She bit her lip and spread her legs as far as they could go.
He kissed the lower part of her belly just to see her squirm. Jenny was on the verge of begging when he entered her in one fluid motion. Her body had been relaxed and compliant by his denial so she hadn’t been prepared for his swift claiming. She rolled her hips and heard him shout. Long fingers clutched her sides in bruising grip as he loved her with his body.
Debauched noises filled the air and the sounds of flesh meeting flesh heightened her awareness. He pulled the blindfold down to look into her eyes and what she saw in his gaze caused her body to clench around his glorious member as she was catapulted to the peak of her climax. Dorian bit down on her throat and followed her over, marking her inside and out with the strength of his claim. “Mine,” he snarled against her reddened skin. She could do nothing more than nod her head in agreement.
Her voice was raspy and hoarse from screaming his name to the rafters. Dorian worshiped her body with tender caresses and kisses until the aftershocks subsided. He then dipped into the bathroom and returned with a damp rag. She smiled up at him as he eased her legs open and cleaned away the ruminants of their lovemaking. “Did I hurt you?” he asked gently.
“No. I loved it.”
Dorian disposed of the rag and lay beside her on the bed, pulling the covers over their naked bodies as they tangled their limbs together. “How is your shoulder?” Jenny inquired, concern evident in her tone.
“I’ll take something in a little while, but I barely noticed while I was—”
“Don’t be vulgar,” she chided playfully. “That was new for me.”
“The blind fold?”
“No, giving up my control.”
Dorian shook his head. “You didn’t.”
“I don’t understand.” Jenny turned onto her side and stared at her mate.
“You’re the one with all the control whether I’m the one gripping the headboard or you are. The power always remains with you, Jenny. I’m the one who gave up my control and I did so willingly.”
Jenny tucked that away for later and broached a different topic, one that had been occupying a significant amount of her brain power. “What does it feel like when you shift into your other form? Does it hurt?”
“It can if the change is brought on by injury or by force.”
“Like when you were shot?”
“Yes,” Dorian agreed. “But when I change at will, it takes more effort, but it’s painless. I need enough adrenaline and a lot of concentration. It takes a long time to learn how to control it. What I don’t like is what comes after.”
Jenny snuggled up a little closer and tucked her head beneath his chin.
“After I return to my body, there’s a rush of heat, a fever that makes me disoriented for a few hours. My bones and my muscles feel hollow and I’m usually very nauseous, but nothing hurts unless I was injured somehow.”
She thought carefully before asking the next question. “Have you ever hurt anyone? Unintentionally or something like that?”
“Never. Though according to Tilly, it does happen on occasion.”
“What was Corey talking about? In the forest when we were all sort of gathered there. Michael cut Anders off before he could finish.”
“I don’t know the entire story, but what I do know is disturbing enough. Before we all moved here, another doctor at the university he was attending had approached Anders. They dated for a while and Anders even fell in love, but when she found out what he was, she promised that she could ‘cure’ him of his problem.”
“It can be cured?”
“No, but out of all of us, Anders is the one who holds on to his humanity the tightest,” he answered. “He was tricked into going with her to a facility off the grid. From what Michael says, they practically tortured him until he snapped. When Anders regained his consciousness, he was covered in blood and walking barefoot in Nevada.”
“Was he at Area 51?”
“No, but it couldn’t have been too far from there.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The clear blue
skies dampened his mood more than the rain ever could. Sunny days were meant for people who had a reason for living that didn’t include a high body count. Perhaps his sour mood had something to do with his infatuation with Jenny Owens and her silly little friends. He enjoyed watching them from afar, but how long would that sate his appetite? They needed to be saved from the filthy beasts that existed around them.
Corey sat with his legs crossed at the ankle, shoveling his face with canned tuna and whole wheat bread. He filled the gnawing hole in his gut and stood up to search for Vanessa. She hadn’t been the same after her run-in with the bear that pulled her down from that tree. The spineless woman flinched at the slightest provocation now.
That didn’t stop Corey from spinning her around with a painful grip on her shoulder. “I have a job for you,” he said coldly. “One I’m sure you won’t be able to resist.”
“What is it?”
“First, I want you to explain to me what’s changed since our little run in with the big ugly monsters,” Corey demanded. “If you cannot prove to me that you can handle this job, I’ll call our sponsor and see to it that he sends me a replacement.”
“Wait!”
“Then speak.”
“Fine,” Vanessa snapped. “I recognized him. From a job I did a long time ago.”
“Don’t be vague, Vanessa. It isn’t very becoming of you.”
“I’m surprised you don’t know, being the incomparable Commander Corey Reed,” she said scornfully. “I worked in a top secret facility called Sector A. It was a facility that specializes in what they call abnormal human-animal amalgamations. Doctor Anders McKinney was an unwilling patient there.”
“Did he recognize you?”
“I don’t think he remembers much from that time,” Vanessa revealed. “He might remember the doctor who brought him there and what came after, but they did…very inhuman things to him. It was as if the lines between man and beast began to blur right before my eyes. It was terrible.”
He handed Vanessa her instructions. “Complete this task and you might find yourself back in my good graces,” he said belittlingly. “Fail and I’ll either kill you or replace you. Whichever fits my mood for the day.”
“I wouldn’t want to disappoint you, then.”
“See to it that you don’t.” Corey walked away from Vanessa and approached Patrick. The man was still recovering from a nasty bite from Dorian, one that had gotten infected on multiple occasions and was a nightmare to keep clean out in the wild. Even so, the veteran never complained nor did he let it slow him down.
“Where’s Vanessa off to?” Patrick asked.
“She’s going to start a fire.”
“I thought we were done with those. We agreed to let them get comfortable again. What’s all this about?” The old veteran sharpened his blade, not looking up at Corey even when he sat beside him.
“We’re done with forest fires for now. But this one is a little more…personal.”
“I thought you didn’t do personal?”
“Not usually, no,” Corey admitted. “But between you and I, I’ve never been inspired in the way that Jenny Owens inspired me. Part of me hopes that her friends prove equally entertaining.”
“What about the one who saw us on the ridge? Do you intend to pay her a visit as well? Even just to see what she knows.”
“Not just yet, but perhaps eventually.”
“Let me know what the plan is, boss,” Patrick said. “You can count on me.”
“You’re assignment is Brock Wasting. Keep an eye on him and report to me if you see or hear anything of interest.” Corey let Patrick to complete his rounds. His next visit was to Travis’s little hovel in the middle of the forest. After more than one dispute, the man preferred to make his bed far from Corey’s watchful eye. He knocked on the flimsy door and scuffed at the stench of stale sweat and liquor. “Travis, open up.”
The drunken man stumbled to the door and cracked it open, flinching when the sunlight hit his eyes. Corey pushed the door the rest of the way open with force and looked around the pathetic lodgings. There was a bedroll on the floor in the corner of the hovel alongside a bucket of what smelled like sick. A pile of soiled clothing cluttered the other corner and Corey began to question his association with the disgusting man.
“You have an assignment.”
“Do I?” Travis grumbled almost incoherently. “What sort of assignment?”
“Vanessa…and Anders McKinney.”
“Vanessa?” the soldier parroted. “I understand looking in on the abomination, but one of our own? That’s a bit invasive.”
“She shares a past with him. If you fail to report…what you saw happen to Patrick during that fight will look like a holiday in comparison to what I’ll do to you.”
“I’ll do my job, don’t you worry about that.”
***
Michael knocked on the door of his brother’s apartment. He waited for two minutes before rearing back his foot and kicking it down. Brock fell out of bed and reached for a concealed weapon. Only the sound of Michael’s voice kept him from pulling the trigger. “Rise and shine.”
“Oh, look! It’s not-time-to-wake-up o’clock,” Brock mumbled, crawling back into his bed and hiding his face beneath the pillow. “Some of us actually work. We don’t all get to be our own boss and make a lot of money setting people up on dates.”
“If you think that’s all I do, then you’re dumber than you look.”
Brock raised his middle finger without pulling his head from under the bedding. “What do you want, Michael? Come to make me feel guilty again? Because I don’t know how much more guilt I can carry after all of the stuff that’s happened lately.”
Michael pulled Brock out of the bed by the back of his shirt and slapped an envelope to his chest. “There’s eight thousand dollars in cash in there.”
“Why are you giving me this?” Brock demanded. “Stop being so damn cryptic and actually answer my question this time.”
“I can’t clean up your mess if you’re still here. Eventually Corey will realize that you’re a loose end he can’t afford and he’ll come after you. I want you to leave Haden Springs. Don’t come back until I summon you.”
“Wait a minute!” his brother yelled. “Are you serious? You want me to pack up my life and leave another town? I can’t do this all over again, Michael.”
“You don’t have a choice! They will kill you, Brock. This isn’t another of your gambling sprees or like that time you pissed off a mobster by sleeping with his daughter.” Michael raked a hand through his hair. “This isn’t an easy fix this time.”
“I know that. I’ve thought about that every day since our conversation. I don’t want you to clean up after me.”
Michael rolled his eyes and forced the envelope back into Brock’s hands. “No matter how much we argue, you’re still my little brother, Brock. If anything happened to you, the promise I made mom…just take the money and get as far away from Haden Springs as you can. Contact me when you get to wherever you’re going—”
“Enough!”
His head snapped around so quickly that Michael felt dizzy. He hadn’t slept in days and the amount of alcohol he had consumed was more than twice his body weight. Not even Chloe’s company had been enough to distract him. “What do you plan to do if not leave? You want to fight back, is that what this is about?”
“No, it’s not what this is about, but I want to make things right. And I’ll need your help to do it. I’ll need your help, Michael,” he explained. “I don’t want you to do it on your own. Like you said, we’re brothers. That should count for something.”
“I’ll make you a deal.”
“I’m listening.”
Michael folded his arms over his chest and nodded toward the front door. “You stay in my loft. There’s better security and I’m rarely there as it is. In return for your safety, I ask that you don’t do anything stupid. Don’t do anything without talking to me first. This isn’t a p
eace offering between us, Brock. I’m still furious.”
“You always are, Mikey.”
He ignored Brock’s blatant use of his despised childhood nickname. “One of us has been defending our very existence for much longer than the other. One of us has wasted his time on blonds and booze instead of taking responsibility.”
“I always knew you hated me, Michael, but you’ve always been too much of a coward to say so,” Brock said accusingly. “Do I even stand a chance at earning your forgiveness? Or will I have to grovel at your feet endlessly?”
Michael didn’t take back the money, but he handed Brock a new key to his loft. “I’ve never hated you, Brock. All I ever wanted was for you to open your eyes and see what brought all of this upon us. I’m not talking about the fires or the hunters, but what happened before you hit me that day in the woods when we were boys.”
He returned to his office. An email popped up on his screen the second he sat at his desk. Dorian asked for his advice on a suit selection and Anders updated him on Sapphire’s condition. There was no decline or improvement, which meant a decision needed to be made on what exactly was to be done with the young woman.
Michael didn’t envy whoever was chosen to make that call. He had done so once before when his mother had been in a coma after a particularly nasty stroke that nearly claimed her life. Since a very young age, an abundance of responsibility had rested upon his shoulders. That weight had only been significantly increased after Brock had been born. Michael didn’t hate his brother, but he felt an overwhelming amount of disappointment whenever he looked at Brock.
The potential for greatness existed within him, but he never strived to be anything more than the black sheep. Michael replied to his emails and arranged for Chloe to meet him at this office. The young woman was not his type, which was exactly why he had chosen her. She thought sleeping with a handsome CEO would get her far in life and he used Chloe so that he didn’t have to waste his time courting someone he actually like for them to run at the first sign of his unique nature.
