by Sarah Makela
He crossed the distance between them and placed a finger beneath her chin. “What is it, Angel? Please talk to me. You should know that you can tell me anything.”
She looked into his eyes, and he grimaced at the unshed tears there. Her lower lip trembled. He couldn’t take seeing her like this.
“I’m sorry.” Her gaze lowered, and she shook her head a little. “I just am… I’m not good with relationships.”
The subtle change in her scent caught his attention. She wasn’t telling him the whole truth. How could he confront her about that?
“What aren’t you saying?” he asked.
Her gaze snapped up to him and then toward her bedroom. “Wh…what?”
Pulling away, he stared in the direction of her room as well. “You’re hiding something.”
He took a step that way, but before he could get far, she grabbed his arm. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He tilted up his chin and sniffed the air. She was hiding something, and he needed to find out what it was. She owed him that much.
She focused her stare at him, expecting an answer.
“Preparing dinner.”
“The stove is the other way.” Angelique pulled away from him and stood, ready to run at a moment’s notice. They had serious issues to work through, but she was what he wanted. He’d gone toe to toe with his Alpha and Monica over her. He knew there would be more problems with Monica, so there better be, at the very least, closure here. He needed it.
He filled their plates with food, and she finally sat back down on the stool.
“No, not there. Grab the candles from the bag and set up the formal dining table,” he said.
She looked unconvinced that he wouldn’t try something while she was gone, but she went off to the dining room. He brought in the plates, and then went back for the bottle of wine he’d chilled before coming over. It was her favorite, as well. He poured each of them a glass, and she stared at him, pain lingering in her eyes. He didn’t want her to endure any more pain. Not when he was around. He wanted her happy.
“Thank you for doing this,” Angelique said. She smiled, but the gesture only tightened her pretty pink lips. “It’s been so long since I’ve had Chicken Florentine or anyone’s cooked in my kitchen.”
“You’re welcome, Angel.” He brushed his thumb across the smooth skin of her cheek. The desire to kiss her tugged at him badly enough to make him ache. But he pulled away. He wouldn’t force himself on her.
A blush of color crept into her cheeks. She lowered her gaze to her food. Maybe he wasn’t the only one with these yearnings. That idea warmed his insides. He might have a chance with her after all.
He took their empty plates. “I’ll take care of these. It’s your birthday.”
“Thanks.” She glanced up at him. “I did love you. I just… I don’t know if I’m really someone you would want to have a relationship with.”
He smelled truth behind her words. She meant what she said, but what did she mean? Of course he wanted to have a relationship with her. He understood her being afraid of committing. As a werewolf, his life was harder than a normal person’s. He had to keep his beast in check, but he was willing to take the chance with her.
He set the dishes on the kitchen counter. “What are you talking about?” He closed the distance between them and leaned in, his lips hovered above hers.
She arched into him as if she could not help herself, and her soft curves pressed against his chest. He wanted to sink into her, claim her, and keep her close to him forever.
“I’m different.” Her breath caressed his mouth.
He lifted her into the air and set her on the counter. The scent of her arousal floated up to him, and yet that was the only scent he caught. No animal anyway. She hid a secret, and from the evidence so far, he suspected it was a supernatural one. Not something he’d mind, but he wasn’t sure how his Pack would react. Werewolves typically frowned upon mating with humans, but mating with a non-werewolf shifter was out of the question entirely.
“I don’t care. I want you.” He pressed his lips against her neck and moved them lower until they brushed her collarbone.
She tilted her head to the side, giving him access, a moan escaping her lips. “I want you too, but—”
He covered her lips with his, swallowing any protests. He knew she could talk herself out of anything, and he didn’t want to give her that opportunity. Not with his chance at claiming her for his own ending so soon.
Chapter Three
Angelique wrapped her arms around his neck, sinking into the warm sensation that being around Connor stirred inside her. She froze, knowing this might not be what was best for her, but with him being here—so close, and apparently so ready too—she didn’t know if she had it in her to turn him away.
Connor pulled back a little, concern darkening his eyes. “Tell me if you don’t want this.”
She opened her mouth to refuse him, to distance herself, but the words wouldn’t come. What was the problem with giving in? She leaned forward, pushing her fingers into his dark blond hair. Her lips met his, and he groaned.
He gripped her hips, tugging her forward on the counter, pressing her close to him. Close enough to feel his hard cock hiding beneath his suit pants. They’d never gone this far before in their relationship. She hadn’t let him get close because of Kira, but Kira wasn’t a problem right now.
Angelique smiled against his lips and pushed off Connor’s suit jacket, letting it fall to the kitchen floor. He stepped back a little, grabbing for her jacket. She let him unzip it and toss it to the floor next to his. His hands brushed over her torso from just under her breasts, over her stomach, and down to the hem of her undershirt. She sucked in a breath as his warm hands met her skin.
He slowly slid the top up and watched her face. She should stop him, but she didn’t want to. Sharing this with him, regardless of what came after, would be a delicious birthday present.
She lifted her arms, and he slipped the shirt over her head, revealing her bare chest. She’d been at home for the night and hadn’t worn a bra.
His eyes burned with lust, and she noticed a tick in his jaw as if he were struggling to control himself. He didn’t need to think she was made of glass. This wasn’t her first time.
She tugged his shirt out of his pants and worked the buttons from the holes. Underneath the silk was a finely chiseled chest. His workout regime must be relentless.
Connor chuckled, and she glanced up at him, cocking an eyebrow. “What?”
“That look on your face. You’re almost drooling.” He smirked. “I like that.”
“I am not.” Angelique shoved against his chest, but he didn’t budge an inch. His muscular pecs beckoned her. She slid her hands over that hot expanse of skin toward his belt. Her lips pressed against his chest, and she trailed kisses over it.
Connor’s chuckle faded and turned into a groan. He planted his hands on the counter beside her knees, staying there and not moving away from her lips. “I want you, Angel.” His husky voice was a near whisper.
Her lips curved downward against his chest. As much as she wanted to be with him, that wasn’t possible. No one could know about her gift. Sometimes she struggled to control Kira at work, and that was just eight hours a day. She couldn’t imagine policing Kira at night while being with a boyfriend, fiancé, husband, or family. She’d done it before with Connor, but keeping Kira in line taxed her.
Brushing those thoughts aside, she unfastened his belt and pants, focusing her attention on making him naked. She gripped the hem of his suit pants—about to push them down—when he grabbed her wrists.
“Wait up, sweetheart.”
Her gaze snapped to his, and she jerked back as if he’d slapped her. This couldn’t be happening. If he stopped them, she’d die of embarrassment. He wanted her, the press of his thick cock between her legs proved it.
He glanced around, then brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “You have a great kitchen, but I�
��m not sure if I want our first time to be here.”
She raised her eyebrows, relieved he’d only stopped her for that, but what other options did they have? She sure as hell didn’t want to do it in the bedroom. Not if it meant being close to Kira. The big cat would only succeed in making the situation entirely uncomfortable for Angelique.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and slid her toward him, but she grabbed the cabinets, refusing to leave. “I think this would certainly make the moment memorable.”
A grin slid across his lips. “You’re sure?” She nodded. “All right. You have a point there. Let’s get you out of these.” He unfastened the buttons on her jeans, his long fingers fumbling with them in his haste.
She lifted her hips and held on tight to the counter, not wanting to fall when he pulled off her pants.
He snatched away her panties with the jeans and stared down at her, scorching hunger in his eyes. With a few swift motions, he pushed away his slacks. Not surprisingly, he didn’t have underwear with them. She liked knowing that. They fell to the floor with a thump. Before she could respond, he pulled away and knelt before her. His face so near her pussy caused her to straighten her back. Hyperawareness tingled over the skin of her thighs. He grinned at her and untied his shoelaces, taking off his dress shoes before sliding out of his pants completely and kicking them aside.
The need to touch him overwhelmed her, but she balled her hands into fists at her sides, trying not to reach out, grab the back of his head, and press his mouth between her legs. She smirked and stared up at the ceiling.
Lips pressed against her knee, and she glanced back to see Connor watching her. Her heartbeat sped up, and she gulped. Grinning, he traced his fingertips along the inside of her thigh in a straight line toward her moist folds. He stopped just before touching her. Well, he stopped his fingers. His lips moved along the same path, except slower and invoking a hell of a lot more feeling in her.
A gasp erupted from her lips as his mouth descended on her.
He parted her lips and slid his tongue over her clit, circling it leisurely as he caressed her thighs. His gaze rose to hers, watching. He dragged his tongue down to tease her opening.
Her eyes widened. If only she could keep him in her life. She slid her hand through his hair, keeping a tight grip on the counter with the other.
His tongue slid inside without warning, tasting her, and she gasped, tilting her head back and angling her hips for him. Her body reeled. “Connor.”
He alternated between spearing her slit and teasing her clit.
Desire built within her, and she tightened her grip on his hair. “Stop, I need you in me.”
He paused and his gaze rose to her face. After one more sweep of his tongue over her clit, he pulled away. He dug through his wallet, and the ripping of a wrapper broke the silence. He stood with a condom sheathing his firm cock, much bigger than the men she’d been with before.
Biting her lower lip, she lifted her gaze to his. His wicked grin lit up his face. “Like what you see, sweetheart?” His deep voice had an almost purring quality to it.
She nodded, unable to speak, and spread her legs wider.
Connor held her hips, pulling her toward him. He nudged his cock against her opening before sliding into her inch by delicious inch. She couldn’t suppress the moan that came to her lips.
When he was all the way inside, he pressed a kiss against her lips. His kisses always melted her. She tasted herself on his tongue. He moved slowly at first, pulling back from her and then sliding in again. His pace sped up, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist, hanging onto him so she wouldn’t fall off the counter. Not like she had reason to fear that. She should be more afraid of him crushing her against the countertop than sliding off. Besides, something about him made her feel like he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
She pressed kisses against his neck and shoulder as he thrust within her, driving her closer to the edge.
He drove moans from her lips as he thrust all the way into her before sliding almost all the way out again and back in, varying the way he rocked his hips, almost like he was searching for something. She gasped as he moved his cock within her quicker now, and she nearly swooned at the immediate pleasure rushing through her.
“Holy crap,” she whispered. “Whatever you’re doing…don’t stop.”
He chuckled, and it sounded strained. “Believe me, Angel. If I don’t stop soon, I’ll come.”
Just like that, her body tumbled toward climax. She tossed her head back, bumping it against the cabinet. Waves of pleasure crashed into her, and she cried out, not afraid if the neighbors heard.
Connor groaned and shoved into her with a few more quick thrusts before holding himself there. His groans and quick breathing told her that he was coming as well. Sweat slicked her skin, and she’d have to clean the counter thoroughly before even considering cooking in the kitchen again, but none of that mattered. Even if there couldn’t be a future for them, she’d treasure this moment between them for the rest of her life.
Angelique panted and leaned her head against the cabinet. Her muscles were deliciously weak.
Connor rested his head against her breasts, his own panting breath harsh against the quiet. His hands slid from her thighs and wrapped around her lower back.
She ran her hand through his hair and glanced up at the ceiling, waiting for enough energy to move. Now that they’d made love, she found the idea of turning him away again harder. But it’d be safer for both of them.
A loud bang sounded from her bedroom, and Angelique cursed. If Kira messed up her bathroom, she’d be furious. She pushed against Connor’s shoulders, and he slowly moved back.
He cocked his head and frowned at her. “What was that?”
She didn’t say anything. Hurrying toward the bedroom, she glared at Connor when he started to walk around her. No, no, no! He couldn’t find out about Kira after what they’d experienced. This evening had turned around, all things considered, until now. She placed her palm against his chest and shook her head. “I’ll handle this. Go pour us another glass of wine.” Her gaze dipped to take in his cock before jerking back up to his face. “Put your pants on. We’re going to talk. That is what you came here for.” The words squeezed out before she could rein them back in, but maybe it was for the better.
She wasn’t sure she could take him turning her down because of her gifts. Maybe she was too eager to use the best-defense-is-a-good-offense tactic, but it was easier—and safer—for both of them. He stood there for a moment defiantly. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited. Having a naked stare down didn’t make her feel very comfortable, but on this, she stood her ground. She couldn’t have him finding out about her familiar.
Growling, he threw up his arms before turning his back, and sexy ass, on her. He padded across the living room toward the kitchen.
She found herself having a hard time looking away, but she did. Walking toward her bedroom, she heard faint movement behind the closed door. She’d locked Kira into the bathroom. What the hell? She slowly turned the doorknob.
“Here are your clothes,” Connor said from the living room.
A heavy black blur knocked into her, tossing her to the ground, and hurtling toward Connor. Angelique rolled to her stomach to see Kira with her paws on Connor’s chest. Her lips pulled back from long, sharp fangs.
“Ki—”
Connor tossed the black panther aside as if she weighed nothing. He jumped to his feet. An animalistic intensity radiated from his half-naked body, and he growled. Instead of green like usual, Connor’s eyes were amber. That couldn’t be possible. “Go to your bedroom and shut the door, Angel. I’ll take care of this.” Connor’s deep voice had a gravelly pitch unlike anything she’d heard from him before.
Angelique’s attention turned to Kira. She didn’t have time to argue with Connor. He wouldn’t be able to fend off the familiar. She was a freaking black panther! She sent a wave o
f energy warning Kira not to do anything, but Kira tossed her head to the side and huffed.
She leapt toward Connor again. With a glance back at him, Angelique watched his hands transform into deadly claws.
“No!” she shouted, but it was too late. Pain lanced her side, and she stumbled as Kira released a chilling howl of pain.
Chapter Four
Connor hovered over the large black panther. He gripped the cat’s head with one hand, and his other was poised and ready to slash elongated claws across its exposed throat. At Angelique’s scream, his attention jerked to her. Angelique lay on the floor holding her side, which had dark bruising spread across it. His eyebrows knit together in concern.
“Don’t do it. Please.” Pain etched into her face, and he looked at the panther. Something didn’t fit. He’d wounded the cat in exactly that area. “What’s going on, Angel?”
He carefully eased himself off the big cat. He wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t leave himself open to another attack. Yet something was off. The beast had come from Angelique’s bedroom. Since when did she keep exotic animals in her home? He took a deep breath, and while the black panther smelled like a melanistic leopard, Angelique’s scent mingled with the big cat’s. They had some kind of a connection.
Connor crossed the room to her, forcing his hand to shift back to normal. He propped her head in his lap and brushed her hair away from her face. His attention shifted to the panther as it slowly got to its feet, and he frowned. “Talk to me.”
“I…I don’t know what to say,” she said, reaching out her hand to the big cat. Beneath her breath, she murmured, “Kira, what the hell?”
The big cat sauntered over to them stiffly.
Connor opened his mouth to say something, but he froze. His heart slammed against the wall of his chest. He’d rip the beast to pieces if it tried to hurt her. His jaw dropped as the panther leaned into Angelique’s hand.
She ran her fingers over its head and sleek, black body, stopping near where he’d slashed the beast. Blood trickled over Angelique’s fingers, and she cursed. She pushed herself delicately into a sitting position.
