AStrangersTouch

by Lacey Savage

  The irony of her desires didn’t escape her. She put her body on full, interactive display for a living, and yet she wanted the man who spent all day looking at her naked to see beyond her tits and ass. But damn it, she didn’t have to be reasonable. Not when it came to relationships.

  And definitely not when it came to Donov—

  Donovan.

  He strolled into the coffee shop, setting off the tinny bell over the door that announced new customers. Everyone in the place turned to stare. A cute blonde a couple of tables down from Roxi straightened her spine and tossed her long hair over her shoulder. She propped her chin on her hand and fluttered her eyelashes.

  Donovan spotted the woman instantly, almost as if he had a sixth sense when it came to bimbos. His lip twitched in a semblance of a smile as he stared at her.

  Roxi’s stomach churned. The raisin scone she’d had for breakfast threatened to make its way up her esophagus.

  Donovan’s gaze slid to his left, connected with Roxi’s—and drove the air from her lungs. His dim smile vanished altogether, only to be replaced with another scowl. For a guy on a date, he didn’t seem very happy to see her.

  To give herself something to do, Roxi lifted the coffee cup to her lips as he neared the table but quickly set it back down when she realized her hands were shaking.

  “Hi.” What should have been a plucky, confident greeting came out as a squeak.

  Donovan yanked out the empty chair across from her, turned it around and dropped into it. He flattened his arms over the top of the backrest, once again effectively putting a barrier between them.

  The sight of him took her breath away. His body molded to the chair with the sensual grace of a predator, and the way he speared her with that gray gaze turned her into a quivering mess.

  She clamped her hands together on her lap and forced a smile. “I thought you would not come.”

  “I had to.” He didn’t look happy about that. Not one bit.

  She flicked her tongue between her dry lips. “Why?”

  His eyes narrowed, and that telltale twitch in his jaw began anew. “Because of that, right there.”

  She shook her head. “I do not understand.”

  “That.” He pointed at her lips. When he stretched his arm, his index finger nearly came into contact with her mouth. It hovered half an inch away, until she could feel the heat promised by his touch. “The way you lick your lips makes me crazy. So does the way you move, the way you sound, the way you smell. Oh God, the way you smell…”

  His face fell. He looked absolutely miserable.

  Roxi’s heartbeat kicked up a few notches. “Is it that awful, being attracted to me?”

  He let out a short laugh that didn’t hold a hint of humor. “Worse.”

  She bristled at that. Her spine jolted ramrod straight and some of her desire began to ebb. “I will have you know I am one great catch. I am smart, funny, charming and…” She hesitated only a second before blurting out, “And I can fill out a D-cup bra like a plus-size underwear model.”

  Ha. Take that!

  She felt downright triumphant when his nostrils flared. No doubt he was picturing her in some skimpy outfit or another…or maybe wearing nothing at all. He’d seen her naked enough times to have imprinted every part of her body on his memory for life.

  A blush seared its way up her throat. She lowered her gaze, suddenly finding the creamy sheen of the coffee utterly fascinating.

  “There’s so much you just don’t understand.” He laced his fingers together and let his arms drape over the edge of the backrest.

  Frustration warred with desire inside her. “You keep teasing me, hinting at some deep, dark secret. What is it? Are you an escaped convict? A murderer? Married? Bisexual? Transsexual?”

  Scowling as though she’d insulted him, Donovan lifted his chin. “None of those. I am…” He pressed his lips together, clearly not wanting to say more.

  Well, she’d had enough of that. “What? You’re what?”

  “Canadian,” he said at last, his admission guttural and raspy, as if he’d just confessed to the worst crime imaginable.

  She sank back in her chair. “You are an illegal alien?”

  “No. I’m here on a work visa.”

  Now she was genuinely confused. “So? I am from Greece. Why does our country of origin matter?”

  He blew out a breath, scraped a hand over his stubbled jaw. God, he looked amazing. He hadn’t zipped up his coat all the way, and she got a glimpse of worn cotton stretched tight over his muscled chest. Her fingers itched to touch him there…and everywhere.

  “We have traditions you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Canadian traditions? Like what? You celebrate Thanksgiving a month earlier?”

  He chuckled, the first genuinely amused sound she’d heard from him since she’d met him. She found she liked it. A lot. But then the laughter vanished as quickly as it appeared, and he stared at her intently. “I’m talking about mating traditions. Rituals, covenants unlike anything you’re used to.”

  She laughed, trying to keep the sound breezy and casual. “This is one date, Donovan. It hardly means we are mated.”

  A shadow fell over his face. “My pack—my family—chose a mate for me the day she was born. We were meant to be together forever. Divorce isn’t an option where I come from.”

  Roxi sucked in a breath. “So you are married.”

  “No. She left me a long time ago. She wanted to make a clean break from her past, which included me.”

  Roxi toyed with her coffee cup. She dropped her gaze, unable to meet his eyes. “Do you still love her?”

  “Love has nothing to do with pair bonding where I’m from.” The answer came easily, and Roxi was inclined to believe him. “But when we mate, we take each other for life. Losing a mate to anything but death is…” He blew out a breath. “Shameful.”

  “And that is why you choose not to be with me?”

  “That’s why I can’t be with you,” he clarified, as though the distinction mattered. “My people… They’re very different from yours. I’m different from you. We wouldn’t be compatible.”

  That brought her head up. “We seemed compatible enough last night, when we kissed. And before that, you clearly thought my body was compatible with yours when you would have fucked me in the harness at Moderne.”

  Roxi hadn’t bothered to keep her voice down and a number of heads turned their way. She didn’t give a damn.

  “Sex is simple.” Donovan narrowed his eyes at her. “Relationships are complicated.”

  “Spoken like a fortune cookie.” She grabbed her purse and rose from the table.

  “Roxi.” Donovan grabbed her wrist.

  The place where he touched her tingled, sending a hot ball of need low into her belly. “Let go of me.”

  “No. Not until—”

  Roxi’s cell phone rang, startling them both. She shook off Donovan’s grip and yanked it out of her purse. A quick glance at the screen revealed a long-distance call. Her mother, no doubt. She’d forgotten all about their daily gabfest. Pushing the button to send the call to voice mail, she turned her attention back to Donovan. “Sex only, then?”

  His eyes sparkled. Desire dilated his pupils and his upper lip curled. “Now who’s teasing?”

  “No teasing.” She took a deep breath, tilted her chin a fraction. Her heart raced at the look he gave her. Maybe he was right. Relationships were much too complicated, and this thing between them…well, it was straightforward. She recognized lust for what it was. She was an adult. Perhaps it was time to start acting like one. “Walk me home, Donovan. It is the least you can do.”

  * * * * *

  The cold February weather had Roxi huddling in her oversized coat. A chill wind crept up the back of her neck, making her burrow deeper into the high wool collar.

  Beside her, Donovan looked downright comfortable. A few snowflakes sparkled among the strands of his short brown hair. His leather jacket was unzipped and
the breeze ruffled his shirt, plastering it closer to the well-defined muscles of his abdomen.

  “Are you not cold?” she asked when she couldn’t take it anymore. Just looking at him made the freezing temperature seep straight into her bones.

  He shrugged. “This feels like home.”

  Roxi slid her hands farther into her pockets. “Do you miss it?”

  “Every damn day.” There was something dark and menacing beneath the simple words, a hidden fury she hadn’t anticipated.

  She swallowed hard, wishing she understood more about where he came from. The way he talked about his family, it almost sounded like a cult of sorts. She knew arranged marriages were still practiced in many areas of the world, but she hadn’t realized Canadians still held on to such archaic traditions.

  “Why did you come to New York?”

  He watched her from the corner of his eye. Silence stretched on between them, making Roxi think he wouldn’t answer. But then he released a huffed breath that clouded the frosty air and said, “I followed Samantha. She fled our home in the middle of the night. I tracked her here.”

  “So why did you stay?”

  “Because returning home without a mate is not an option.”

  She heard the hurt in his voice as clearly as if he’d confessed to it, and knew there was more to his story than a simple lovers’ quarrel. When Samantha left him, she’d clearly taken something more important than companionship. She’d stolen his pride.

  They walked down Lexington through the usual throng of New Yorkers hurrying to and from somewhere vitally important. Someone slammed into Roxi’s shoulder and she took a step closer to Donovan. Not that she needed his protection. Since coming to New York, she’d learned to grip the strap of her purse tightly and watch where she was going. Still, she liked knowing he was right by her side, watching over her as he did at Moderne.

  “I live here.” She stepped out of the crowd to stand at the edge of the sidewalk, and pointed at the three-floor brownstone nestled behind a wrought-iron gate. Before he could say anything, she gathered her courage and blurted out, “You should come up.”

  Donovan’s gaze turned positively feral. He took a step closer.

  Roxi stumbled backward until she hit the gate. Her pulse ratcheted up a few notches.

  “Are you absolutely sure?” His voice was husky and low, and it sent a tremor through her that had nothing to do with the winter chill.

  Roxi tilted her head and met his gaze full on. “I am not afraid of you. Perhaps I should be… My mother would want me to be.” A dry chuckle escaped her throat. “But I am not.”

  He stroked her cheek with the backs of his knuckles. His fingers felt warm against her frozen skin. “You’re either very brave or very foolish.”

  “Some women enjoy playing with fire.”

  “Is that what you’re doing? Courting danger?”

  “You tell me.” She willed her voice not to shake. “Are you really so dangerous, Donovan Armstrong?”

  He lowered his head until his lips hovered a breath away. “You have no idea.”

  And then he slammed his mouth against hers, demanding, insisting, stealing the very essence of her soul. Her knees buckled. Roxi didn’t trust her body to keep her upright, so she grabbed his jacket, pulling herself tightly against him.

  He groaned into her mouth. She opened to him, met his tongue with hers. He wanted to take, and she wanted to be taken. Right here, up against this gate. Nothing else mattered but Donovan’s mouth, his tongue, the nip of his teeth against her lip.

  Not the cold. Not the layers of clothing standing in their way. Not even the people strolling by. She wanted to wrap her legs around his waist and feel his cock driving into her body, again and again and—

  “Excuse me.” The gate at Roxi’s back rattled. “I said, excuuuuuse me!”

  Donovan broke the kiss. As Roxi struggled to force her thoughts back in order, he slid his arms around her and lifted her out of the way as if she weighed nothing at all.

  Roxi gaped at him. She was anything but featherlight, yet he’d just hoisted her up in the air and wasn’t even breathing hard.

  An elderly woman wearing a giant neon-green hat shaped like a flower made a sound of disapproval as she yanked open the gate, then walked past them.

  Donovan hadn’t released her. His breath fanned her cheek, warming her straight to her core. “Yes.”

  “Yes?” she echoed dumbly.

  “Yes…” The sultry look he gave her robbed Roxi of all reasonable thought. “I want to come up.”

  He had enough time to get a quick impression of feminine furniture, soft fabrics and lots of pastels. All of those whizzed right past him as Roxi grabbed a fistful of his jacket and tugged him through a narrow corridor, past an open archway he thought led to a kitchen—and into nirvana.

  The scent that had been driving him crazy for weeks now, pure Roxi, was intensified tenfold in her bedroom. It wrapped around him like a sensual blanket and tugged on his cock until he was so hard, he thought he’d burst from the mere smell of her.

  Donovan’s wolf trembled inside him, testing the boundaries of his control. He needed to get his hands on her. Needed to be inside her. Now.

  She must have known what he was thinking, because she slammed the door closed with her foot as she stripped. The large coat she’d nearly disappeared under out on the street was on the floor now, tossed in a careless heap.

  Roxi stood before him—still fully clothed, damn it—and stretched out an arm when he advanced. Her splayed hand caught him full in the chest. She didn’t have the strength to stop him, but he used the last ounce of self-control he could muster to keep from ripping off her clothes.

  “You have seen me naked many times.”

  A happy growl tumbled from his throat. Oh, and what a glorious sight it was, too. “Beautiful,” he said.

  She quirked an eyebrow. A hint of a smile played upon her full lips. “But I have never seen you.”

  His cock leapt against his fly, all too eager to show her what he had. His hands went to his belt and in seconds he’d tossed it on the floor, along with his shoes, jeans and shirt. He stood before her in nothing but his briefs. His shaft tented the fabric, forming a sizeable bulge.

  Her eyes widened, but whether in appreciation or apprehension, he couldn’t tell. Only one way to find out. He slipped his fingers beneath the waistband and pulled forward just enough to free his cock. The head slapped against his stomach.

  Watching Roxi’s reaction to seeing all of him was a headier aphrodisiac than her scent alone. He loved seeing her pupils darken, her tongue sweep out to moisten her lips, her nipples pebble against her shirt.

  Oh yeah, that was appreciation in her gaze, all right. His inner wolf stood up and howled, but the man in him refused to take the time to gloat. “Your turn.” He hardly recognized his own voice. The gruff undertones turned it gritty and thunderous.

  She shook her head slowly from side to side, her gaze never leaving his cock. “You are not fully naked yet.”

  It took him less than a heartbeat to toss the briefs aside. “Your turn,” he repeated, and this time his tone left no room for argument.

  Yet she dared to defy him anyway.

  Another slow shake of her head had his claws pressing against the tips of his fingers, eager to come out. It would be so easy to let his inner beast loose, just for a little while. He could tear the material off her luscious body before she could even contemplate shaking her pretty head again.

  He clenched his teeth, reminding himself he’d need to be gentle. He’d never made love to a human before. They were fragile creatures, vulnerable and delicate. The violence inherent in shifter coupling wouldn’t just terrify her, it would harm her as well.

  He’d be damned if he let that happen. If it meant he had to go slow, he’d go slow. And he’d keep his wolf in check, no matter what it took to calm the beast.

  “I have stripped for you many times.” Roxi lifted her arms high into the air. “T
his time, you undress me.”

  Before he could leap on her and start shredding fabric, she stopped him with another press of her hand to his chest, lifted an index finger and wiggled it from side to side. “Slowly.” She drew out the word, as though he couldn’t have understood it otherwise.

  Hell, she was probably right.

  He slipped both hands beneath her sweatshirt. The first feel of her silky skin against his palms nearly undid him. A bead of pre-cum formed at the tip of his cock and hovered there for a fraction of a second before sliding down his shaft.

  Donovan gritted his teeth.

  Roxi grinned. “Having trouble?”

  “You’re pushing your luck, pretty lady.”

  Her grin widened. She winked at him. “And enjoying every moment.” Her features turned pensive for a moment. “You were right. Sex is better when not burdened by expectations of more.”

  A muscle twitched in his jaw. No, he hadn’t been right. He’d been a hypocritical bastard. After all, he was the one who’d decided not to fuck the entire shifter population of New York because he was holding out for his true mate. He’d thought being bonded to a female meant only for him would turn sex from a merely physical encounter into something powerful and intoxicating. And yet here he was, giving in to the urges of his body with a woman he couldn’t mate with, even though he was beginning to think he’d never want to be with anyone as much as he wanted to be with Roxi.

  Fate was a cruel fucking mistress.

  If he had half a functioning brain cell left, he’d turn around and walk out the door. But his cock now ruled his world, and neither he nor his wolf were willing to give up the chase when they were so close to having what they craved. Roxi, naked and writhing beneath them.

  She didn’t fight him when he slid the sweatshirt up her torso, or when he peeled it off her body entirely. She wore a bra made of red lace, which cupped her beautiful mounds and lifted them up, causing a mouthwatering display of cleavage to meet his hungry gaze.

  He lowered his head and licked a path between her stunning breasts. She rewarded him with a low moan, and he did it again even as his fingers went to work on the fastenings of her jeans. He quested with his mouth until he found a nipple. Grabbing it between his teeth, along with a scrap of lacy fabric, he sucked deeply.