by Scott, Talyn
“I just found another stretch mark,” Tatum warned him, pointing her index finger at his nose. “Do you think I want to talk about Granny, at a time like this?”
Jayce dropped to his knees, kneeling before his queen, and placed a reverent kiss on Tatum’s increasing stomach. “My little guy is growing. That’s to be expected. Stretch marks are badges of honor and courage. I’m so proud of you.”
“You won’t think that when you don’t want me anymore.”
“Not this again,” Jayce said, then kissing the palm of her hand. “I’ll lick each and every stretch mark on a daily basis. I swear it on my life.” The Alpha’s eyes gleamed devilishly when he said, “I’ll even make sure to examine you for new marks every single night. I’m on it, hellcat. No inch of your flesh will be left unturned or un-licked.”
She gasped. “You think I’ll get more!”
Jayce closed his eyes, realizing his foot-in-mouth stupidity. “Let’s go find you some chocolate covered raisins and then we’ll Facetalk Bren. He can show us Ciaran and Rebecca’s son again, so you will remember the end game and that our little male is worth your daily suffering. And mine.”
“I’m really not trying to complain,” she whispered miserably, “If he would just stop kicking me under my ribs. He’s so strong.”
“He is strong. I know, Tatum. Complain all you want. Just as long as you don’t throw more shoes at my head, particularly Bren’s combat boots, I’ll take it all in stride. And you’d feel a lot better with a nap. You didn’t sleep at all last night.”
“Yeah, after we call Bren, I’ll nap.”
When Jayce carefully scooped Tatum up in his big arms, she noticed Gage and Heath waiting at Jayce’s desk. “Oh, congratulations to my newest brother-n-law,” she beamed at Heath and it warmed his heart. “Dru called to check on me, told me the big news. Please, beg Molly to call me. Oh, and, uh…good luck, Mol’s a handful.”
Heath could deal with a handful of Molly about now. “I’ll ask her to call you and take care, Tatum.” After Jayce carried her through the threshold, Heath turned to Gage. “I want to see Molly swollen with my bairn.”
Gage nodded assuredly, “You will.”
***
“Relax, you will project your unease to the others,” Extol ordered the Gryph, placing his booted foot on the last step.
“You should not be here, Master,” the Gryph replied in clipped tones, pulling his massive wings tight against his body. “If something were to happen to you…”
Extol waved a negligent hand. “I do not need your protection.”
“Might I remind you that your decisions have been less than -”
Extol stepped around a moaning trio, scanning them with disinterest. “Might I remind you that I wouldn’t be here if you had not failed me.”
“The Beta youngling is far too powerful!”
“Keep your voice down,” Extol walked past an interesting duo, wondering where the third of its trio had gone. “You’re telling me that a Beta youngling can take down three? Is that why you flew away, retreating when you spotted the Vojaks coming. You needed to be saved that badly?”
“What I need is to stop doing your dirty work,” the Gryph snapped. “And the only way we will get Molly Shirley away from Ail Ruyter is if we pry her from his cold, dead claws.”
“That will happen soon enough. I heard that Prince Volos proclaimed a Blood for Blood in exactly one week.”
“The Alpha won’t let that happen. You didn’t see his handiwork on my brother, did you?” He visibly shuddered. “I don’t think his wings will ever grow back.”
“Do I look like I care if his wings do not grow back?” Extol reached the last room, where he was told he could be serviced in a manner for which he was accustomed. “I will do no less than that, if you fail me again.” He eyed the couple, the husband drugged out of his skull on some refined, human street drug. His wife wasn’t high at all. She nearly tumbled Extol when he stepped inside and loosened his belt. “Get off me,” he snapped harshly, earning himself a pout from her over painted lips. “I will tell you when you can move and when you cannot. And right now, you cannot.” He turned back to his Gryph. “I told you that she needed to have strawberry blond curls. This,” he said, gripping a fistful of hair from the woman next to him, “is bleached blonde. Can you do anything right?”
“I’m sorry, Master,” the Gryph replied, “but even if her hair color was spot on, you still wouldn’t want her. No one is Molly Shirley besides Molly Shirley and you won’t be satisfied until you have her.”
Chapter Fifteen
Molly glanced across the restaurant at Ail. He was still talking on the phone to Heath, who had been called away to meet with Jayce, and his face was getting frostier by the minute. He started pacing by the back door, his hand moving animatedly at his side. She shook her head, wondering what all that was about as she swallowed her last bite of swordfish topped with mango salsa. Ail grumbled about her ingesting mercury when she’d ordered the dish, so she told him that he shouldn’t have brought her into the restaurant portion of The Blue Pelican, where they served the best grilled swordfish this side of Orlando.
She shifted in her seat, still wearing the ominous butt plug. Heath and Ail had asked her to leave it in so they could do wild and crazy things to her body later. After what she’d experienced this morning, she easily complied, though Molly couldn’t imagine the pleasure that the next coupling would entail. And now, Molly had a good idea of what those two could do for the female body.
As her napkin slid off her bare thigh, she bent to her side and grabbed it, thankful that Ail purchased her a bikini complete with boy shorts, at the gift shop. At his insistence, she’d tossed her still damp panties in the restroom’s waste can and replaced them with the boy shorts. Now, no one could get an eyeful while she wore Renee’s dress, though she was uncomfortable showing this much skin and wearing fuck-me shoes around such an elegant lunch crowd. But she’d been too hungry to refuse.
When she placed her wayward napkin on her empty plate, her ring finger felt and looked utterly bare. At Ail’s urging, she’d finally taken off her wedding set. Not because he had pressured her, he hadn’t truly done that. She was ready. Not so surprisingly, Molly felt a weight leave her body when she handed them over to Ail for safekeeping. She needed money for a new place, had thought about pawning her rings when she could, but, instead, she wanted to donate whatever money she got for them, to the children’s outreach program at the museum. However much they would actually fetch; she hadn’t a clue, but something good – however small, should come from something bad. In a way, those slight stepping-stones would aid in cleansing Wilson’s betrayal from her mind. When she pulled her eyes away from her bare hand, she noticed she was no longer alone.
“May I sit down?” Wilson asked, dressed in a deep grey suit with a black shirt. He wasn’t half as attractive as Heath or Ail, but that fact didn’t slow her heart rate any.
“Sanibel Island is a long way from the courthouse,” she replied, gesturing with her hand for him to take Ail’s chair. In those short seconds, patrons were already starting to stare. Some of the men, incredibly large the way Heath and Ail were, took particular notice.
“I’ve been trying to call you.”
“I lost my phone,” Molly answered, wondering why Bren would tell Wilson she was staying here.
“Well, the historical museum’s been trying to get a hold of you.” His eyes dropped to the side of the table, where her barely dressed leg peeked out atop Renee’s slutty platforms. “They want you to come in for an interview at ten in the morning. It’s a good thing that I found you.”
“Sure. Thank you for relaying the message,” she said, crossing her legs just to torture him. No, she wasn’t past that sort of childishness at all, and she’d never dressed this way for Wilson. She leaned on the table, giving him a good look at her peek-a-boo bodice. “Don’t you have to run along to court now?” Perhaps, meet someone in the maintenance closet for a quickie.
“I do,” he said, reaching out to clasp her hand, but she pulled back quickly. “I want to see you again. We were friends before all this started. I miss that. I miss you.”
“All this started?” she questioned. “You miss me?” Those big men surrounding her hadn’t taken a single bit of food from their plates since Wilson sat down. Frankly, she didn’t feel like going into a tirade. He didn’t do it for her anymore, and she didn’t care enough to fight. When she opened her mouth to tell him so, his eyes went over her shoulder, and then far up. Without turning around, she knew who was behind her, could feel him there.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Ail pulled her up by her elbow, his free hand quickly pulling down her tiny gauze skirt before tightly wrapping it around the back of her waist. “Heath is going to be a couple more hours. So I’d say you and I go freshen up our tan lines. A volleyball game just started out back, and you can cheer on your favorite man.” He squeezed her hip, pulling her into his side. He couldn’t have publically marked her more unless he bent her over the table and fucked her in front of the lunch crowd.
In the meantime, Wilson had stood up and crossed his arms, perusing Ail with a discerning eye. He wasn’t nearly as tall or as muscular as Ail was, but for a mortal, Wilson was intimidating. “And you are?”
“Molly’s fiancé,” Ail said clearly, giving her another squeeze. She fought not to contradict him, which was an easy thing to do after seeing Wilson’s priceless expression.
“We’re barely divorced,” he accused.
When Molly opened her mouth to tell Wilson exactly where he could shove his accusations, Ail beat her to it. “Oh, you must be Willie,” he said in low tones, keeping a smile plastered on his face so onlookers would think they were having a friendly chat. “I’ve heard a few things about you, not much. At any rate, they weren’t too good, especially concerning your bedroom skills. Hey, no problem, we can’t win ‘em all and Molly is very satisfied now. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”
“Stop.” She had never complained about Wilson’s bedroom skills. Of course, she hadn’t been with him sexually in ages, but that was beside the point. She had to end Ail’s posturing and fast. “Again, thanks for driving all the way out here to deliver my message.”
Stupidly, Wilson raked his eyes up and down her scantily dressed body. “You should find your phone or get a new one, honey, particularly when you need the work.”
Ail stiffened next to her, heat leaving his body in furious waves. “I’m buying her a phone, and, not that it’s any of your business; she doesn’t ever have to work another day in her life, unless she wants to. I have so much money; our unborn grandchildren couldn’t blow through it, if they tried their damnedest. It’s time for you to leave. I’d hate to get nasty here and embarrass my precious Molly.”
“That’s not a problem.” Wilson straightened his stance. “Molly, let me know if you need anything.”
“I need my stuff,” she said through clenched teeth, trying to force a smile for the concerned onlookers. “You changed the locks.”
“Oh, I almost forgot.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a single key attached to a plastic key ring in the shape of Florida. “That was a terrible mix up. I swear it wasn’t intentional. Here you go with my apologies. Swing by this afternoon. I’ll be in court until four, but I’ll stay at the office if you don’t want me hovering, honey.”
Ail took a step forward. “Since you don’t know who you’re dealing with, I’d suggest you stop goading me by calling her honey.” He swiped the key from Wilson’s hand, shoving it deep inside his pocket. “At the very least, you’ll find yourself knocked into next week. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Molly needs to put on her bikini, so I can enjoy the view and the envious expressions on every man she walks by. Goodbye, Willie.”
He turned her. “You’re manhandling me.”
“Am I?” He kissed the top of her head, ushering her through the backdoors that met the beachside walkway. “I didn’t notice.”
“Are you like that with all women?” She waved when she saw Mason.
“What, protective?”
“Over-the-top possessive,” she hissed when they came to an empty cabana, by the zero entry pool.
“I don’t remember any other woman since I claimed you,” he whispered so sincerely, she almost believed his words to be true. “Get the other half of your bikini on.” He handed her the gift bag and lowered the small backpack he’d brought from his condo, to his side. He pulled out a simple, blue shirt, nearly the same color as his eyes. “In case you didn’t figure it out, I was lying about wanting other men to ogle the goods. Please put this over your swimsuit.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she gasped. “That’s too much!”
“I just encountered your ex-husband, a man who was inside what’s mine. Sorry but I’m having a hard time of it, sweetheart, really hard. Now, there’s a difference in making someone do something and simply asking. Right now, I’m between making and asking, but I’m leaning dangerously close to making.”
His eyes were closed, his hand gripping the woodwork of the cabana’s doorway. “You’ll owe me, Ail Ruyter.” She caved and his sudden smile nearly knocked her backwards. “But you’ll pay up later.”
“Anything you want,” he promised, turning her and swatting her ass inside the cabana.
What she wanted was for him to get completely dressed and then strip slowly, so she could enjoy the sexy unveiling of his delicious body. That would be a treat she couldn’t deny herself. Then an uncomfortable thought washed over her. “Ail,” she started, watching as he locked the door behind him.
“Yes, my mate.”
“Would you have really hurt Wilson?”
“I’ve never hurt a human, though now I’m wondering if you still want him.” His werewolf flashed over his body, sizzling within the small confines of the cabana. When he stepped forward, she bolted back, flattening herself against the wall. He reached out, trailing his knuckles down the side of her throat, where he’d bitten her, so careful of his claws. “You. Are. Mine,” he growled in that eerily distorted voice. His height nearly a foot taller, the seams of his shirt split across the shoulders. He leaned in, sniffing and then licking his mark.
“I don’t want Wilson,” she promised on a croak, raising her hands high to cup his face. “At all.” His skin was flickering between blue and a strangely deep purple. “I want you.”
He wrapped his hands beneath her thighs and lifted her high against the wall, his sharp canines instantly tearing her new boy shorts away, the fabric flying everywhere in thin streamers.
“Please don’t drop me,” she whispered, now gripping the silky strands of his hair. She was, at least, eight feet off the ground, and a hard fall onto the tile would cause some damage.
Ail was staring at her feminine center, licking his lips as though he were hungry. His eyes glowed brightly, the blue bouncing off the surrounding walls, reflecting from the mirror. With a long swipe, he stroked her pink flesh, drawing her flavor into him. Immediately, she sensed him calming, but he maintained his form. She moaned when he hurried his licks, circling her, delving in, and then pulling back out to tickle her protruding nub.
“Ail,” she said on a hitch, the breath sawing in and out of her body. “The way you make me feel…”
He gripped her hips and yanked her down the wall until she met his drizzling crown. In one roll of his hips, he thrust deep inside her. Without giving her a chance to get used to him, he moved like a well-greased piston, filling her so unbearably, particularly since she still maintained that butt plug, and it was making her sheath even tighter. Only when the back of her head smacked the tiled wall did he slow, uncurling one of his hands from beneath her thigh to cradle her head in a soothing nature. “Come. With. Me.”
“Yes,” she said, having the crazy urge to bite his shoulder the way he’d bitten her earlier. Going with it, she bit down, right next to his throat, the salty flavor of his skin ignited something wild inside of her. He mimicked h
er actions, biting her lightly while thrusting in and out, circling her opening on the downward stroke. When she screamed her pleasure, she bit harder, breaking the skin. And he pulled away from her shoulder, roaring his reply while pumping his hot fluids deep inside her clenching sheath. “Oh,” she moaned, tasting his erotically flavored blood on her lips. She tried to feel bad about that, but the feelings wouldn’t come to the surface. Molly only felt complete.
She tightened her thighs around his lean hips, waiting for him to slow his breathing, to bring himself down a size or three into a more human appearance. His seed was oozing out of her folds, dripping over her ass, when the door nearly exploded. The lock fell to the floor, and splinters sprayed across the room. Ail didn’t pull out of her, instead, holding up his forearm to protect her face from the flying debris.
“Ail,” called Mason. “What’s doing, man?”
“Mine,” Ail roared at him, baring his canines at his brother.
“This is mortifying,” Molly muttered, trying to wiggle down but Ail cupped her ass and held firm. To her utter shame, Mason looked pointedly at her.
“Are you okay? I sensed him releasing the Beast, but I didn’t realize...just, are you okay?”
“Peachy, thanks for stopping by,” she gritted out the words. In the next instant, Ail made a swipe at Mason, his large hand producing a whooshing sound as it sliced through the air at inhuman speeds.
Mason ducked out, laughing. “Dru’s looking for you two, says he has time to run Molly on a particular errand she needs, in another hour. He’s still patching up yet another youngling. Big fight broke out last night under the pier, over a mixed blood. Dru’s giving me a much needed break.”
“Then take your break elsewhere!” Molly screeched.
“Alright, I’m going, but from the looks of her, Bro, you’d better clean her up between the legs before you bring her outside.”
Molly swore the way Granny had taught her, ending with, “Stop looking, Mason!” Only then, did she hide behind the safety of Ail’s chest. Werewolf or not, she felt at home with him. When nosy Mason took off, she grumbled, “I don’t think I like your brother anymore.” His chest rumbled beneath her cheek, with what she supposed was a laugh.
