Moonlight Danger

by Tina Donahue

  He stepped forward without meaning to, transfixed by her nipples, a deep rose as he’d guessed, puckered and tight, ready for a man’s mouth.

  Portia didn’t flaunt her partial nudity. She appeared far more casual than he as she slipped off her panties. No wait, she’d worn a thong. His skin tingled.

  She chucked the underwear on top of her bra and stood. “You must be hot, too. Want to join me? Plenty of room.”

  Nick figured she’d gestured to the water, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything except the springy curls between her legs. That delicate pelt was as dark as her other hair. Her cleft and puffy lips pointed the way to paradise. At least for a little while. After that….

  He should leave.

  She padded to him, taking his hands. “Join me when you’re ready. We have all night. I’m not going anywhere but here.”

  Three small moles circled her navel, fascinating him. A light sprinkling of freckles graced her shoulders. Although tall and athletic, she was surprisingly narrow, seeming so delicate.

  She had more courage than he did, facing him with unashamed desire and patience.

  Nick wanted to make a move but couldn’t quite break free from the past, telling himself he shouldn’t. He deserved to remain alone forever. She kissed his knuckles. His lids slipped down. He ached with need and resistance.

  True to her word, she stayed relatively close, slipping into the water, the brief waves lapping her thighs. “Wow. Almost as good as a shower.”

  She poured water over her shoulders, breasts, and belly. Her delicate curls trapped the moisture that sparkled in the remaining daylight. Soon, the heavy moon would rain its silvery light on them. If he were still here, which he wouldn’t be.

  He edged closer to the bank.

  After dampening her neck, she lay on her back, floating, face turned to him.

  He didn’t recall taking off his work boots, socks, jeans, or tee. When he wore nothing except his stretchy boxer briefs, he considered what he was doing.

  She patted the water, encouragingly. “Hop on.”

  “On?”

  “In. Always mix those up. Come on, you need to cool off.”

  With both of them in there, they’d probably bring the damn stream to a boil. Warning bells rang. Loneliness and lust won. Shutting down his misgivings, Nick peeled off his underwear. He stood above her, naked and fully aroused, letting her get her fill of the man, the beast he was.

  ***

  A pulse ticked deep within Portia’s sheath. Nick called to everything female within her.

  He was a large man, over six-three, all bronze skin and hard muscle, his abs and pecs superbly defined. Days spent in hard labor, and nights as a prowling wolf, had toned him beyond belief. Dark hairs rounded his navel, trailing down his hard belly to the heavy thatch on his groin. His cock jutted from those fragrant curls, his shaft thick and long, ropey veins snaking down its length, his plump crown the same ruddy shade as his balls. They were tight to his body, lightly furred. One zillion percent male.

  She couldn’t breathe, swallow, think about anything except him being inside her. Them face-to-face, burrowing into each other’s bodies and souls, gazes locked.

  He was so beautiful she could have looked at him for years on end. He wore his raven hair shaggy and long, the ends curled around his ears and neck. A stunningly masculine effect further accentuated by his rough good looks. His lushly lashed eyes were black and piercing, the animal within barely contained.

  She wanted his wolf side unleashed, uninhibited, primitive. He could be as savage with her as he desired. She wasn’t afraid. Nick was a good man.

  Too good. He heaped blame on himself for what had happened to Bree. No words would convince him otherwise. Months ago, when Portia had come to the pack as a refugee, she’d had her own sorrow to deal with, hoping only to be with other shifters, never dreaming she’d meet him.

  Since that day, she’d hungered for a few words, a smile, touch, embrace. He’d been stingy with his affection and time, always running away. She couldn’t blame him, but she couldn’t abide their separation any longer. Time to move on from the past into the present, to live and love.

  She pushed to her feet and offered her hand.

  He laced his fingers with hers, sending a thrilling shock to her core. Struggling for control, she dug her toes deeper in the cool mud.

  Nick slipped into the water, his musky scent bearing a trace of leather from his soap or aftershave. Totally virile. Completely irresistible. Once he’d gained firm footing, they were only a breath away.

  Might as well have been miles. His gaze cleared suddenly and grew cautious. Before he changed his mind about this, she stroked his bristly cheek and upper lip, adoring the rasp. “Have a hard day?”

  His stiffened cock bobbed on the water, the crown stroking her thigh. He nodded.

  She edged closer. “How about I massage your shoulders.”

  “You don’t have to— Fuck that’s nice.”

  She worked her fingers into his tense muscles, kneading them with care. “Relax.”

  His head lolled back, his prominent Adam’s apple begging for a kiss, his hair-roughened throat inviting her to mark him with a hickey.

  She resisted both impulses. For now. Later, all bets would be off. “I’d tell you to sit down, but I don’t want you to wash away.”

  Chuckling, he slid his feet farther apart.

  “Here.” She lifted his arm to her waist. “Hold on to me and I’ll do the same with you. That way neither of us will fall.”

  “Or we both will.”

  Would that be so bad? He was as alone and wanting as she was. No matter how successfully he’d denied his human side, the wolf in him needed a mate. She inched closer, making certain his cock had nestled against her pussy.

  At last, he snuggled his arm around her, his limb heavy and warm, exactly what she craved. She eased his hair off his neck and massaged him even better than before. “Feel good?”

  He inhaled deeply, blowing out his breath. “God yeah.”

  “Were your shoulders aching from carrying my box?”

  “No. My eyes were.”

  She liked his teasing. “Open them. I want to see the damage.”

  “No, you don’t. If I don’t close my eyes, they’ll fall out.”

  “Poor baby.” She tilted his face to her and kissed his lids.

  He stilled.

  Leaves rustled to the side. He looked over, avoiding the moment they’d shared, at least emotionally. His rigid shaft pressed against her mound, thicker than before. He might have been able to pretend nothing had happened between them with his neutral expression and silence, but his cock didn’t lie.

  He loosened his hold on her.

  She stroked his pec, enjoying how his muscles jumped. “How about you return the favor and give me a massage? I work hard, too.” She eased around, her ass to his groin, his shaft snug against the seam between her cheeks. “Go on. I won’t stop you.”

  He made a noise somewhere between a chuckle and wanting groan. “About you working hard….”

  “There won’t be any new leaks.” For the life of her, she couldn’t understand how the pipe could have been so messed up after she’d worked on it. Or how she could have forgotten to replace the frayed cord with the new one she’d bought at Kent’s, a lumber–hardware store in Palmetto. She’d been so certain she switched the bad cord with the good one, but hadn’t. Sure, she was tense from no sex, affection, and not having Nick pressed close to her like now, but she wasn’t a slacker or fool when it came to her work. “I did the job right this time.”

  “Yeah, about that.” Gently, he rubbed her shoulders.

  She sagged against him, unable to resist. “About what?”

  “Huh?”

  He’d pressed his face into her hair, sniffing deeply.

  Nice.

  “Ah, your work.” He eased back. “Where’d you learn to fix pipes?”

  “You sound surprised. Is that in a good or bad wa
y?”

  “Neither. And I’m not. Okay, I am a little. You don’t strike me as the usual plumber type.”

  “Why?”

  “Your socks and overalls for one. Then there’s the cartoon Band-Aid.”

  “I cut my knee. Didn’t want to bleed to death.”

  “Did you get your near-fatal injury doing plumbing?”

  Shaving her legs this morning. The Little Mermaid Band-Aids were all she could find at the discount drugstore, unless she’d opted for Spider Man. No contest.

  “What’s wrong with my clothes?” She’d dressed especially for Nick, trying to be hot plus competent. Not easy for a female plumber slash maintenance person. “You don’t like what I wear?”

  “No. I mean, yeah I do. I mean—” He huffed out a breath and pressed his cheek against hers. “You’re a woman. I haven’t seen many rummaging around beneath sinks.”

  She stroked his jaw. “I don’t rummage, I repair.”

  “Right. You took shop? You went to a trade school to learn this? A boyfriend taught you?”

  “I actually taught the guys I dated.” All three of them. She hadn’t been popular in high school or after. Could be because she’d been the only shifter in town with everyone sensing something was strange about her. “I learned what I know from my father. Would have taken over his business if he and Mom hadn’t died.”

  Nick made a pained sound. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up anything bad.”

  “You didn’t.” She turned into him and cupped his face. “I’m happy we had the time together that we did. They were great people, but I have to move on. That’s why I came here. To be with my own kind.” She touched her fingers to his lips before he could speak. “I know you’re not looking for anything permanent. That’s okay. This can be purely physical. We can have fun. I don’t know about you, but I really need that.”

  His expression changed from surprised, to troubled, to something she couldn’t read. “You deserve better.”

  “I deserve now. Neither of us is going to be around forever. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. Something could happen to me and then I’d never have this chance.”

  “Don’t say that. Never say that.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. I’m trying to be realistic. Why not enjoy the time we’re here and have some—”

  His kiss stopped her, his tongue plunging deep into her mouth, exactly what she needed. He growled like the wolf he was and cupped her breast, squeezing roughly, his control ended.

  He tasted exquisitely clean, his unique flavor proving his youth and health. She pressed closer, wanting him more than air or food, his heat and size intoxicating. Water sloshed around their legs. They grasped each other harder and tottered, trying to remain upright.

  He pulled free and sucked air. “Let’s go.”

  She held back. “Where?”

  “The bank.” He pointed. “To lie down.”

  “My bed’s inside the cottage.”

  “Too far.”

  Best answer ever.

  He helped her to ground level and spread their clothes as a makeshift sheet. From here on out, she’d make certain there was always one out here at the ready.

  Joined in a new kiss, they sank to the ground and rolled right, left, both trying to get on top. He won. Awesome.

  With one hand, he held her wrists above her head and swooped down, suckling her neck.

  Her pussy creamed. Deluged with pent-up desire, she gave into animal heat, wrapping her legs around his lean hips, pushing her fingers through his wonderfully thick hair. He laved her nipple, making the tip harder, his suckles freeing her basest core. She ached for him to fuck her until they were both raw then start over, not stopping for weeks, months, maybe ever.

  She was losing it and couldn’t have been happier.

  On a lusty grunt, he edged down, licking her navel, making her laugh. He gave her furry mound his most ardent attention, burying his nose in her curls, smelling her excitement. Their musk filled the air, the scent heavy, decadent, promising.

  With his hands beneath her buttocks, he feasted on her puffy folds. She bucked and pushed into him, giving herself fully. She’d lied when she’d said this was solely about sex. He already burned in her blood and marrow. She’d known that when their gazes first met at a pack meeting called by Derek, the head honcho here. He’d asked everyone to speak up on whether to accept her or not.

  Nick had been the first to approve, unable to look away from her, the same as she’d been with him, hearts opening to each other, futures endless if only he’d allow himself more than tonight.

  Right now was all she had and wouldn’t waste a precious moment. She clutched the clothes beneath her and wrapped her legs around his neck, hanging on, needing an anchor against the mounting tension in her cunt. He licked and suckled her clit. Nerve endings fired wildly, electrifying her nub. Heat shot from her thighs to her belly, lingering then building. She thrashed her head from side to side, fearing she wouldn’t last. She hadn’t experienced pleasure in too long, a man wanting, cherishing, loving her always out of reach.

  Until him.

  He might have only desired her now, but that was a good start.

  She gritted her teeth and arched her back to fight off orgasm, wanting to savor this slice of time, needing it to last. A carnal storm raged within, unstoppable and overwhelming. Someone shouted. Might have been her, she didn’t know. Too much bliss crashed through her, snatching what breath she had, ringing her ears, leaving her weaker than a newborn.

  Panting, she let her legs flop down, gripped his hair, and reeled him in, claiming his mouth. Being apart from him wasn’t an option. He had to fill her in some way at all times. They kissed noisily, artlessly. Form didn’t matter, satisfaction did. She pressed so hard into him, his teeth dug into her bottom lip. No biggie. This was worth the pain.

  He finally broke free, hair hanging over his forehead, his expression damn near barbaric.

  She gripped his biceps. “Fuck me.”

  He plunged inside, driving his meaty cock deep within her sheath, not stopping until their curls touched and he’d stretched her farther than she believed possible. They clung to each other, her kissing his neck, him suckling her shoulder and flexing his rod. Showing off as he had when he’d lifted her two-ton box.

  Delighted, she tightened her cunt around his cock, prepared to give him a ride he’d never forget. He eased back, looking dazed, though not enough to keep him from pumping. Each thrust was forceful and precise, his withdrawal from her timed to when she squeezed her pussy around his shaft, increasing the friction between them.

  A familiar and pleasant ache coiled within her mound. She dug her fingers into his arms, braced for release. Relief arrived from nowhere and all sides, surprising and powerful, euphoria sweeping through her, making her insatiable, hungering for more.

  He came next, bellowing like the animal he was, perspiration running down his face and chest, arms trembling.

  Portia guided him to her chest, comforting and protecting him at his most vulnerable. Not that she didn’t have a little sass left, too. She worked her hand between them and stroked his balls.

  He shuddered. “Shit, don’t.”

  “Sorry.” She squeezed her pussy around his rod.

  “God. Stop.”

  She did for the moment. “There’s no pleasing you, is there?”

  He laughed tiredly. “It’s too much. Give me a sec.”

  She’d give him a lifetime. All he had to do was ask. “Sure.”

  She embraced him, relishing their mingled scents. Her smelling of him, him smelling of her.

  The mild breeze picked up, an odor intruding. This one frightening, disturbing. The same stench as before when she’d asked if he’d smelled it, too. Odd that he hadn’t then or didn’t seem to now. She’d only encountered it once in her life, hoping never again to face that unmistakable smell.

  Death.

  Chapter Two

  Portia stiffened beneath Nick. With stunning speed,
he snapped out of his sex-induced fog and pushed to his elbows. “I’m too heavy. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” She cupped his shoulders to ease him back down. “You’re not too heavy. You’re perfect.”

  That assessment was so far from the truth, he should have roared with laughter. Perfect would have been him enjoying her mindlessly, then leaving without a backward glance. He wasn’t anywhere close to that truth. Her loving caress warmed and comforted. Having his cock burrowed deep within her gave him a taste of everything he’d missed, wanted, and feared. To have her once more or even a million times would never be enough. He’d crave her ceaselessly, guilt eating him alive, destroying her, too. She should have listened when he said she deserved better. He shouldn’t have been such a goddamn horny prick to forget that.

  He pulled out of her and tugged his jeans from beneath her leg.

  She cuffed his wrist as well as she could. “What are you doing?”

  “I have to go.”

  “Why? We’ve barely started. We haven’t eaten. You can snooze while I grill the steaks. Or, if you’re hardcore about it, you can handle the meat like men think they’re supposed to. No judgment here.”

  He wanted to laugh and love her clear until tomorrow. After prying her hand away, he kissed her knuckles. “I need to leave. Sorry.”

  As he gathered his things, he couldn’t look at her. Her sighs were already tearing him apart. He clutched his clothes to his chest and padded naked across her brief yard into the heavy vegetation that led away from her house and his. Going home to lose himself in sleep was out of the question. He needed to flee physically. If he’d been a bird, he would have taken flight, soaring above the earth until nothing on it was recognizable.

  Portia’s face swam before him, the details too acute. Her eyes sparkling with desire in the pearly light, lids slipping down with her release. Her dimpled smile relaxed with satisfaction, breasts quivering with his every thrust. The easy slide of his rod within her pussy, his shaft damp from her juices.