by Eden Ashe
Goddamn it, he needed to get them off the street before Douche Bag did something and bloodshed ensued. He jerked a nod at him then lifted a brow. “I’m new in town, and Megan’s been nice enough to help me look for something particular in her shop all day.”
Declan’s cold eyes flicked to hers, but before Thorn wrote him off as a complete ass, his face softened. “You’re moving fast, aren’t you, little sister?”
“Please.” She rolled her eyes then melted against Thorn’s side. “I’ve seen you take women home after a two minute conversation.” When her brother opened his mouth, all humor and easygoing attitude faded, and her face darkened. She went on her toes and poked his chest. “And don’t you dare say it’s different because you’re a boy, or I’m calling Mom.”
To Thorn’s surprise, Declan winced and rubbed at the spot where she’d poked him. “Geez, Megs, you used to be sweet. What happened?”
She scoffed. “I grew up with two asshole brothers who thought it was funny to treat me like a boy until I grew boobs. Then suddenly every boy was the devil and you constantly tried to lock me in a tower.”
With a dazed expression, he held up a hand. “Please, Meg, can we not talk about your boobs?”
“Sure.” She lifted a brow at him. “Shake Thorn’s hand.”
Pure amusement warring with deep respect for her built in Thorn’s chest.
“Dude.” Looking uncomfortable as shit, Declan snorted. “He had his hand on your ass. I’m not shaking it.”
Instead of answering, she crossed her arms and tapped her foot.
After several tense moments where Thorn started to worry she really would do physical harm to her brother, and tried to decide the best way to stop her from hurting herself doing it, he dragged a hand down his face before holding it out. “If it helps, I have a younger sister and a toddler niece. I’d be considering tearing the asshole’s limbs off his body right about now.”
Declan narrowed his eyes before he sighed and clasped his hand. “If you haven’t met our two younger sisters yet, you’ll get my reaction when you do. There aren’t enough brothers to keep all three of them out of trouble.”
Megan hooked her arm around Thorn’s waist, and took turns beaming up at each of them, before settling her attention on her brother. “How long are you in town?”
Something dark and haunted flashed over Declan’s face, causing dread to pit in Thorn’s gut. He knew bone-deep, soul-crushing guilt when he saw it. But the demons chasing Declan weren’t the kind Thorn knew how to kill. They were the ones that refused to ever fucking die.
By the time Thorn’s arm tightened around Megan’s waist, without even questioning the urge to protect her and get her away from the danger, Declan had his expression neutral again. His eyes were as close to dead as a living being could get, even when smiling at his sister. “Indefinitely.”
Her whole being lit up. She leapt at him again, squeezing his neck so tight Declan had to remind her he needed to breathe.
“Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow. I promise.” She kissed his cheek then let out a low sound before pressing her brow to his and clinging to him. “I’m so happy to see you, big brother. I missed you.”
She didn’t want to let him go. Although he might be the biggest pain in the ass in her life, even more difficult than Luke, who seemed to thrive off making her life difficult by playing the most childish pranks imaginable, she still loved Declan desperately.
He kissed the top of her head then untangled her arms from his neck and stood her on her feet. “Want to join me inside for a drink?” He lifted a brow at Thorn. “First three rounds are on me.”
Rolling her eyes at his attempt to keep them from going to her apartment, she looped her arm through Thorn’s again and grinned at Dec. “Actually, we’re on our way to my place.” Then, before Dec said something she’d have to hurt him for, she tugged Thorn across the street.
When they reached the opposite sidewalk, he cleared his throat behind her. “Not that I’m complaining following you, since you have a seriously magnificent ass, woman, but please tell me your brother isn’t going to shoot me in the back.”
“Don’t worry.” She squeezed his hand. “If he ever shoots you, you’ll be facing him and you’ll be armed.”
“What?”
She winced. No one ever understood her Firefly references. “Nothing. I meant he’s a mean son of a bitch, but he doesn’t fight dirty. Usually.” She led him around to the back of the building that housed Megan’s Closet, her sister Dylan’s bridal shop, and the florist then up metal stairs. “I live on the third floor.”
The low growl rumbled in his chest again. “It’s dark back here. You need more light.”
She didn’t disagree. The small parking lot backed into the Little League field, but not even the one bulb illuminated it. Her brothers had been threatening to install lights in the parking lot themselves if the owner didn’t do something about the situation soon. Laken was small and generally safe, with most of the crime committed during tourist season, and the town was still way below the national average violence-wise.
She unlocked her door and opened it, but when he shut it behind him, all the motivation to get him as far from her brother as possible fled, leaving her alone with Thorn and her thoughts of how close they’d been to full-on make-out fest outside the diner.
Swallowing hard, more nervous than she’d ever been in her life, it took a huge act of will to turn around. “I’m sorry about my brother. He’s had it…rougher than most.”
Thorn took a step closer, then another, until he was close enough to slide his hands around her hips and drag her up against the solid, hot wall of his body. His light eyes were intense and burning with lust. “I don’t want to talk about him.” He nibbled along her jaw. “I’d rather talk about what I want to do to you tonight.”
She shivered and tilted her hips until his length, thick and heavy, pressed against her belly,. She bobbed her head before it fell back on its own, exposing her throat to his glorious, seeking mouth. “Okay, we can do that.”
A darkly erotic chuckle rumbled from his chest. Lifting one hand, he wrapped it around her nape, dragging her to her toes and licking at the seam of her lips. “Ask me what I’m going to do to you, Meggie.”
Her eyes fluttered closed, and she had to clutch his biceps to keep her legs from giving out as his tongue swept inside, drugging her with its seductive rhythm. “What…. What are you going to do to me?”
Not until that second had she realized how much trust she’d put in him. She waited for the doubt to creep in, the worry, but it didn’t come. She had nothing but trust for him, the most freeing sensation she’d ever felt. She didn’t stop and think. Hooking one leg around his waist and using it to leverage herself up, she locked her ankles around his waist. Then ate at him like a woman starved. The motion pushed her skirt up to her hips, and he took full advantage, grasping her ass with both hands.
A low, possessive growl tore out of his chest. He stumbled forward until he found a wall to press her against. His hips grinding against hers, he ripped her tank top off in one fluid motion, followed by her bra.
Need shot through her like wildfire at the hunger in his eyes, but she slapped a hand on his chest. “Shirt off.”
Too impatient to wait for him, with his expression dazed as if trying to process her words, she snagged the hem and pulled it off for him before going to work on the button of his jeans.
“Jesus, you’re perfect,” he said, his voice guttural and thick with lust. Somehow, he’d managed to push out of his jeans and boxer briefs and rid her of her panties without her feet ever touching the floor. As his tongue slid over her breast, his hand slid to her core. He groaned. “Decide. Wall or bed. Now, Meggie.”
Her belly fluttered. Good God, he wanted her to think? Her brain spun somewhere near the stratosphere, and her body had given over to pure female instinct. “Here.”
“Good choice.” Licking at her breast aga
in, he made his way to the other one and sucked the nipple in, gently at first before tugging at it with his lips at the same instant his finger drove into her.
Her forehead dropped to his shoulder, and, her body shuddering against his, she gave herself up completely to the pleasure of him. He pushed another finger into her then curled them forward with each thrust, knowing how to take her to the edge. Her nails dug into his shoulders to hang on, in a useless effort to stop from falling headfirst over the cliff.
“Come on, sweetheart, come for me.” He scraped his teeth over her jaw, nipping lightly as his palm scraped her clit until she quaked with the sensations sweeping like a hurricane inside of her.
And then she followed his command, an orgasm ripping her open and leaving her bare and exposed. She bit his shoulder to hold in the scream.
He didn’t wait for her to settle down before he spread her thighs and slammed himself home.
Chapter Six
His eyes crossed and his knees nearly gave out. Bliss shot through his veins, burning him up from the inside like wildfire. She’d clamped around him so perfectly, his cock felt strangled.
God, he never wanted to not feel this.
He angled closer, and she threw her head back on a choked moan. Using his hips to keep her thighs spread, he grasped the back of her neck, forcing her to hold his gaze as he slowly withdrew then drove back into her wet heat.
Though determined take it slow, to bring her to that fine brink of madness, he didn’t have that much strength. Slamming his free hand on the wall by her shoulder, he devoured her like a man starved. Like he needed her for sustenance.
Her long, delicate body wrapped around his, her ankles crossing on his ass and digging in. And when she moaned again, her fingers digging into his shoulders, he sucked on her nipple.
A scream tore out of her, so he did the same to the other nipple, using his lips and teeth to torment it until that sexy-as-fuck sound escaped her throat again.
“Oh God, Thorn.” She fisted his hair, her eyes heavy-lidded and black with pleasure. She licked, kissed, and when he picked up the pace, she buried her face in his shoulder and moaned.
So close to losing his ability to think straight, to keep himself from coming before they were ready, he used dug deep for the self-control to pull her off him. He kissed her once at the confusion and disappointment that passed over her beautiful face then wrapped his arm around her bottom and carried her over to the couch. The second his ass hit the cushion, he settled her over his cock and thrust home again.
When she arched again, he followed her, worshipping her breasts, his hands digging into her hips to rock her over him. She matched him stroke for stroke, her perfect small tits bouncing for him as she rode him.
And when she exploded, her body coming apart in great shattering waves that destroyed his sanity, he followed her into the abyss.
“That was….” Too satisfied to open her eyes or worry about modesty, Megan curled against his chest. She patted the solid wall of muscle beneath her cheek, delighted to find his heartbeat as scarily irregular as her own. “Holy crap.”
He chuckled. “Thank you.” He wrapped both arms around her neck, holding her close.
She sighed, content. The man definitely had the bedroom skills to match that wicked, wicked grin. She smiled. They were both sweaty and still being rocked by aftershocks, but he seemed happy to stay where they were.
Which she appreciated. She really, really didn’t want to lose this feeling yet.
“Quiet, Meggie.” He pressed a kiss to her temple.
She scowled without opening her eyes, and something inside her chest—not her heart, really—soared at the sweet gesture. “I didn’t say anything.”
Another chuckle rumbled his massive chest. “You’re worrying.”
She snorted. “So are you.”
“Yeah.” He stiffened then gently used her hips to set her back. “I have a life in Chicago, sweetheart. This can’t be anything more than fun.”
Just like that, whatever soared inside of her—again, definitely not her heart—plummeted to a nasty, pathetic death. Instead of letting him see her distress, she nipped his jaw then licked it. “Don’t worry. I knew that before I invited you up.”
And she had. That part didn’t catch her off guard. Hell, she hadn’t even known him twenty-four hours yet.
She slid her hands over his chest, letting herself memorize the sheer amount of muscle under his dark skin. There were random tattoos all over his torso, from the thick tribal that covered his left shoulder and down his arm, to the Latin inscription across his right collarbone. Another spread low on his carved belly, from hip to hip.
But scars outnumbered the tattoos. Some so faded they were white against his skin, some puckered into scar tissue, while others appeared barely healed.
Her heart seized, realization weighing her down. “You really are a hunter,” she whispered. She thought she’d believed him at the diner, but seeing the physical representation stole her breath.
“Yeah.” He tightened one arm around her neck and kissed her temple again. “You okay?”
She stretched out against his chest again. “Of course.” Keep it simple, Meggie. No getting attached. “Are you cold?”
“Am I cold?” he repeated, sounding confused.
“Sorry.” She smiled up at him. “I panicked. Do you want to stay the night?” She covered his mouth with her hand before he responded. “Say yes. You don’t have a hotel room, and you have to sleep somewhere, right?”
Humor lit in his eyes before he bit her palm. When she didn’t move it right away, he lifted a brow and started talking anyway.
She widened her eyes and eased toward him a little. “I’m sorry. I can’t hear you. Can you speak a little louder?”
He licked her. She grinned. And when he threw back his head and laughed, her heart seized up again in an entirely new way.
He hadn’t planned on taking her up on her offer. He needed distance, especially with Megan. And he sure as fuck didn’t need the distraction she caused just by being near.
But whenever he tried to tell her he should leave, she’d do something that enchanted him into staying a little longer. She drank a beer with him; he came out of the bathroom after a quick shower to find her in his shirt, watching the sports channel to get caught up on baseball and yelling at the screen; and the kicker—she asked him about his family.
By midnight, she’d stretched out on the couch, stacking her bare legs on top of his as they sipped beer. “So, Jaid was seventeen when she had Amara?”
He rubbed her calf, frustration rumbling in his chest. “Yeah. I’d never seen Jake so close to cold-blooded murder before.”
Her eyes widened. “He was angry at Jaid?”
“Nah.” He settled into the cushion behind him and closed his eyes. “He never had a problem putting a boot in my ass, but he’d never been able to raise his voice to her. But her boyfriend—he was fair game.”
“It took two to get pregnant, right?”
He chuckled quietly. “Of course. It was an accident, that one percent chance the condom failed, so it’s not like they were being irresponsible. Jake saw all of her scholarships being rescinded and her future being sucked away. He panicked.”
Megan arched her foot on a moan when he rubbed his thumb over it. The sensuousness of the sound had his cock twitching in his jeans. “What about you? You didn’t panic?”
“Jaid needed one of us to stay sane.” He used both thumbs to work out tenseness. “I melted down after Amara’s birth.”
A smile flirted around her eyes. “I bet you’re an awesome uncle.”
“Damn straight. Which seems to mean I’m the biggest pushover in the world.” He chuckled. “All she has to do is peek at me with those crazy, big-brown eyes and quiver that bottom lip, and I’ll willingly empty my bank account.”
Removing her feet from his lap, Megan sat up and kissed his cheek before snuggling into his
side. Her hand scratched lightly at his abs, sending sparks of electricity along his nerve endings. “You’re sweet.”
Just like that, the easiness in him strung tight. Fuck, no, he wasn’t sweet. Dark as fuck, more accurately, with enough internal scars to keep him up at night. But, she didn’t need to know about the screaming that woke him, chasing him no matter how he tried to block it out.
She was sweet, curled so trusting against him, her head tucked under his chin.
Clearing his throat, he wrapped his arm around her. “What about you? Declan mentioned two other sisters?”
“Yeah.” Her eyes lit up. “Dylan and Lilah. Lilah’s the baby.”
“I take it you’re close?”
“Very.” She nodded against his chest and yawned, her pretty voice soft. “I’m sorry about your brother, Thorn. I can’t imagine losing one of mine.”
His chest tightened with familiar, too-fresh grief. Finding that amulet was imperative, but success in his quest meant saying good-bye to Jake all over again.
Her fingers skimmed over his chest, tracing his tribal tattoo. “How did you become a hunter?”
“Family legacy.” He kissed the top of her head. “It’s been a part of my people’s heritage for centuries.”
She stacked her hands and dropped her chin onto them, studying his face. “Do you like it?”
“Never thought about it.” To please himself, he buried his face in her hair, breathing her in. “Will you go to bed if I promise I’ll stay tonight?”
She yawned again before stretching against at him. “Only if you come with me.” She stood then, one graceful movement of her tight body, and held out a hand for his. Her eyelids were at half-mast, and though she had to be exhausted, the need to taste her again flooded his system. Thorn gained his feet and locked her ankles around his waist as he carried her to the bedroom. Her hands stroked his skin, his back, his chest, his shoulders, and the way her breathing went ragged the longer she touched him drove him mad.
