She closed her eyes again.
“You are so mean.” She heard more cloth rustling, then the sound of a cap snapping. Within seconds the soothing scent of lavender filled the room. His warm, oiled hands began to rub up and down her back, spreading the self-heating oil. “You like that?”
Already she could feel herself relaxing under his touch. “Mm-hmm.”
He began to massage her back and shoulders, varying hard, almost bruising kneading with almost ticklish butterfly touches that had her squirming. She moaned when he hit a particularly bad spot, the tension in her shoulders melting away under his skilled hands. She could have sworn he was using his powers, but when she opened her eyes his were still vaguely speckled with silver, his hair still tinged with black.
His hands wandered down to her ass, massaging her just above the globes. It felt surprisingly good, and damn arousing. “Julian.”
“Hmm?”
“Are you hoping to get laid?”
His hands didn’t even pause. “The thought did cross my mind.”
She growled. “You’re not up for it.”
He chuckled. “I beg to differ.” He moved to the side and took her hand, placing it over his straining erection. “I’m very much up for it.” She watched as he poured more oil into his palm. “I’m fine, Cyn. Better than fine, now that you’re home.”
She grimaced. It had been her idea to roam Halle, waiting for the bad guy to strike. Gabe had been against it, but he’d agreed once she allowed him to give her more than one tail.
Julian’s hands began massaging her thighs, and she groaned. She hadn’t realized how tight all her muscles were until Mr. Roamy Hands got started, but damn, it was so good. She didn’t even realize the sheet had been pulled down until his hands reached the soles of her feet. So much for discouraging him.
He began massaging her ass once more, spreading the cheeks apart. “Julian.”
Shit. His name came out more a moan than a warning. She was so screwed. Literally.
“That’s my name.” He patted her ass. “Roll over.”
She lifted her brow at him. He expected her to move? After turning her muscles to Jell-O?
She managed to get onto her back, flopping ungracefully back down. “Make with the oil.”
“Yes, ma’am. Your command is my wish.” He massaged the top of her shoulders, his fingers deliberately stroking the mating mark over and over again before sliding down to her breasts. He spent an eternity just oiling and playing with them. Her nipples were so hard they hurt worse than her muscles had.
“Jules.” She squirmed, aching for him.
“I have you.” He took hold of her arms and lifted them over her head. His bright silver eyes were heated as he placed her hands on the slats of the headboard. “Hold these for me.”
She grabbed hold, not that she’d be able to move anyway. She was one limp, aroused woman, accepting anything he wanted to give her.
And give to her he did, sinking his fingers into her in one smooth stroke, the oil warming inside her body. Her pussy tingled as he fucked her gently, bending over her to take one oily nipple into his mouth. He suckled her hard, the combination of the easy finger inside her and the hard tongue on her nipple sending her over the edge.
Gods above, she was amazing. Just looking at her as she came nearly had him following her, spending his seed on her stomach. But he had other plans for his mate, ones that involved riding her until she fell asleep, warm and sated and no longer hurting.
He could feel it, the pain still hiding under the pleasure, her muscles still not completely cured. He’d broken his promise in little bursts, removing as much of the pain as he dared, but he doubted she’d noticed. She’d been too busy writhing under his hands, coming on his fingers.
He especially liked that last part.
So he slid down her body, taking that pretty little clit into his mouth, his fingers still inside her. He wanted her mindless, dancing under his tongue. He watched as she clenched her hands around the spindles of the headboard. Her hips lifted against him, forcing him to lick where she wanted him. Even half melted, she still tried to rule their passion.
He almost laughed. If she told him to jump, he’d probably ask how high and in what direction. Then she’d probably yell at him for not jumping fast enough.
He sucked and licked and fucked her till she trembled, ready for him. When he pulled away she whimpered in protest, a sound she’d deny to her dying breath. She wanted him, and that was enough for him.
He slid his cock into her, shuddering when her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in deep. “Cyn, hold still.”
Gods, he was such a liar. The last thing he wanted was his beautiful mate to hold still. He wanted her to fuck him into the damn mattress. But he was determined to be gentle. She hurt, and he didn’t want to add to her pain. She’d feel it after the high of two orgasms wore off.
Her eyes opened, and she snarled at him. “If you don’t fuck me right this instant I will get even. You won’t like it if I get even.”
“I don’t want your muscles to get tight again.”
She grinned up at him. “You could always massage me again.”
This time he was the one who whimpered. Her legs tightened around his waist, demanding he do as she demanded. He did what any man would do in that situation. He began fucking her hard, loving the moans that poured from her lips. He could see her toes curling out of the corner of his eye. Her pussy began to tighten around him. She grabbed handfuls of his hair and dragged his head down, stealing a kiss before sinking her fangs into his neck.
Oh. Oh fuck. She’d marked him. The urge to feel her come on his cock overwhelmed him as the mating hormones raced through his system. He extended his fangs and leaned down, biting her as she’d bitten him.
She screamed, her pussy tightening around him so hard he couldn’t move. Her whole body bowed off the bed. When she collapsed back onto the mattress, spent, he began fucking her again, gentler this time. She was going to come at least one more time before he was done.
“Jules.” She tugged on his hips, encouraging him to go faster. “Need it.”
“Want to come again?”
Her nails raked down his back, scoring him. He hissed, the pain driving him deeper into her. She’d drawn blood, and he refused to heal it. Let it scar. If his mate wanted her claw marks in his flesh, so be it.
He lifted her legs, automatically healing the muscles she’d overworked that day hunting for a lunatic. Julian saw the way her eyes narrowed but didn’t care. She wanted to be fucked hard, then she had to be able to take it. He rested her calves on his shoulders and began to pound her so hard the bed shook. This time, he was going to come with her.
Her skin glistened from the oil in the light of the candle. She clenched the sheets in a white-knuckled grip. Her head tossed from side to side, and the sweetest little moans were pouring from her mouth. “Come on, Cyn. Come for me.”
She brushed her fingers across the mark on her neck over and over, driving her closer to orgasm. He held on to her legs, waiting for her to fall.
Cyn shuddered. “Oh fuck. Fuck.” She gave off one choked off cry and came, so tightly wrapped around him that he followed her over that glorious edge. His vision went black as pleasure roared through him, white-hot and molten, pouring from him in waves. It took everything in him not to collapse on top of her, but it was close. They were nose to nose when he regained his senses.
“Wow.”
He smiled wearily. “Like your massage?”
Her expression was full of lazy satisfaction, like a cat that had gotten not only the cream, but the bowl too. “Enough to offer you one the next time your muscles are sore.”
“Ah, so this was a sixty-eight.”
She giggled. “You do me and I owe you one?”
“Damn straight.”
She pulled him close and cuddled him, stroking his hair. “Let me know when you want to collect.”
Chapter Nineteen
It was killing him. It was fucking killing him that she was out there, risking her life, and he was stuck in the house, healing. He should be out there with her, protecting her. What if that son of a bitch got a shot off? Julian didn’t think he would be able to live with himself if anything happened to her and he wasn’t there to prevent it.
Julian ran his hands wearily through his hair. Who the hell was he kidding? She’d already been damaged and he hadn’t been there to take care of her. He tugged on his hair, frustrated beyond belief. Sometimes it seemed like since he’d moved to Halle there had been nothing but one huge fuck up after another. He hadn’t been able to protect Tabby when Gary had gone after her in the woods. He hadn’t been there to save Glory when she’d been shot. He sure as fuck hadn’t been able to save Marie, and Jamie… No one knew if Jamie would ever be the same again. Jamie still hadn’t woken up and it’d been three weeks since Marie’s death. Her father had flown in, heartbroken over the loss of his only daughter, and made the funeral arrangements. Jamie’s parents and brother had attended in her mate’s place.
Jamie’s brother, Grayson, had come to see him and had quietly thanked him for saving Jamie. Gray had been the complete opposite of Jamie, quiet and reserved. It wasn’t just because of the tragedy. Gray was like a deep, still pond, where Jamie had been more like playful ocean waves. Gray had stayed, making Julian lunch, commiserating with him over Cyn’s role in finding the killer.
He’d offered to be one of her shadows, protecting her where Julian couldn’t. Julian thanked him, but declined. He couldn’t allow Gray to risk himself. Jamie’s family had been through enough. Gray had accepted with quiet graciousness, but Julian wasn’t certain whether or not Gray had gone hunting anyway. He sincerely hoped not.
He shivered, chilled to the bone. The restless itch that had been under his skin since Cyn had walked out of the house that night was getting worse. He began to pace, rubbing his arms as goose bumps rose all over them. Something was seriously wrong, and all of it centered on Cyn.
He closed his eyes and tried to focus on what it could be, but he was too restless. He settled down on the floor and crossed his legs, settling down into the pose he used for meditation. He wasn’t planning on heading into the spirit world to speak to Bear, but if he could calm his racing heart he might be able to sense the threat to his mate. If he were truly lucky, Bear would send him a vision. Even if his spirit visions weren’t as in-depth as Tai’s, they were always accurate.
Deep, soothing breaths helped to relax him. He focused his mind on the color white, the color of snow, the color of Bear. His breathing began to even out, his thoughts settling, his heart rate slowing down. He let the color white go, waiting patiently to see what would come to him.
Blood began to drift down the white. As he watched, the simple, flat white took on texture and form. His view drifted back and up until he was staring down at a prone body, it’s white hair streaked with red. Beneath the body a pool of blood spread. But what truly terrified him was a familiar mop of blond, pink and black hair. Cyn was lying beneath him, one arm flung out to the side, the T-shirt she’d been wearing that night when she left the house soaking wet.
It was then he realized it wasn’t his blood on the ground. He blinked, shattering the vision as memories of Marie’s blood splattered hair superimposed themselves over that of Cyn.
He stood, his hands automatically braiding his hair so it would be out of his way. Changing into jeans and a T-shirt, he shoved his bare feet into his sneakers and raced out the door. He barely remembered to grab his car keys and his wallet, and he was sliding into his car, ready to take off to where Cyn had said they were laying their ambush for the night.
“Julian DuCharme?”
Julian turned to see who called to him, and stared at a strange Wolf. The Wolf exuded an aura that he’d only sensed in the presence of Max Cannon and Richard Lowell. He had a thick southern accent reminiscent of Tabby’s. His light brown hair and eyes practically glowed under the streetlight. “Who are you?”
The man held his hands at his sides, indicating he was unarmed. “My name is Micah Boyd.”
Why was that name so familiar? A trickle of unease shivered down Julian’s spine. Whoever this man was, he was somehow connected to what was happening to the girls.
“I’m the Alpha of the Marietta Pack. I’m looking for Tabitha Garwood.”
Oh, shit. This was the man Tabby had been exiled from her birth Pack over. At the age of fifteen she’d been Outcast while dating him, the old Alpha accusing her of robbing his home when she’d simply been trying to escape Micah’s bedroom unnoticed. If he was here Alex was going to shit a brick. “Tabby’s not here.”
Micah lowered his arms and shoved his hands into his front jeans pockets. “I know that. She’s refusing to take my calls.” He scowled. “And she sent me these really annoying videos of a cartoon cat dressed like a Pop Tart.” He shook his head, the scowl lightening to a simple frown. “Look, she has no reason to trust me, but I just want to tell her it’s safe for her to come home now.”
Julian couldn’t stop the rumbling growl, even if he wanted to. “She is home.”
Micah shifted, his stance changing from defensive to proud. “I Outcast my father.” He stared straight into Julian’s eyes, and Julian could see how this man had become an alpha. There was strength there, and determination. Julian could sense the desire to make amends in the other shifter, and it was bothering the hell out of Micah Boyd that Tabby wouldn’t let him.
“Why?”
Micah’s gaze filled with rage and sorrow, an odd combination. “Tabby wasn’t the only one he hurt.”
That cold, twitchy feeling was stronger than ever. “When did you Outcast him?”
Micah frowned. “It was my first act as the new Alpha.”
Julian cursed under his breath. “How long have you been alpha?”
“A little over two years.”
Tabby had been living as a human in Halle for less than a year. She’d spent years as a Wolf, avoiding Packs due to being made an Outcast by her former Alpha for a crime she didn’t commit. He tugged on his braid, praying he was wrong. “Please, for the love of the ancestors, tell me that son of a bitch is being watched.”
“Honestly, I hope he rots in hell. I told him I never want to see him again, and he left. I don’t know if he’s still in Georgia or not, and I don’t care.”
“Shit.” He waved to the passenger seat. “Get in and help me clean up your family’s mess.”
“What are you talking about?”
Julian did something he’d never done with a non-Bear shifter. He used his shaman’s voice, allowing his power as a Spirit Bear to flow over the other man. “Get in the car, Alpha Boyd.”
Micah’s eyes went wide, but he stood his ground. “What the hell? What did you just try to do to me?”
Well. Hopefully curiosity would win out over the ass kicking Micah was probably going to try and hand him. “I’ll explain if you’ll just get in the damn car!” He didn’t care that he was shouting. He just needed Micah to either get in the car or get out of his way. Didn’t he understand? Cyn was in danger. He let his eyes go silver, his hair white, and glared at the alpha. “Did you get permission from Max and Rick to be here?” When Micah cursed Julian almost laughed. According to Pack protocol, the Marietta Alpha had royally screwed up. He’d stepped onto another Alpha’s territory without clearing it with that Alpha first, and if Max didn’t hand him his ass Rick would. “If you get in the car, I’ll cover for you.”
Micah grumbled but got his ass in the car. “Now will you explain it to me?”
Julian dove into the car and took off in a squeal of rubber and smoke. “Have you ever heard of a Spirit Bear?”
Micah shrugged. “They’re the mystical, magical, legendary priests of all shifter kind. My father used to tell stories of them, but I never believed in it. I mean really, Spirit Bears? Who believes in that kiddie kind of shit?”
Julian was tempted to start singing the Care
Bear theme song. He’d looked it up and learned the lyrics to make Cyn laugh, but he hadn’t had the guts to sing it to her. Yet. “We prefer the term shaman over priest.” He took a turn so sharply he almost ran up on two wheels.
Micah was staring at him as if he lost his damn mind. “Are you telling me you’re some kind of legend?”
“Only in my own mind,” Julian muttered. He ignored Micah’s chuckle. “If you don’t believe me, you can call my leader, Tai Boucher.” Wouldn’t he love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation? Tai would take the young Alpha and have him spinning in circles within minutes.
He screeched to a stop right outside of Living Art Tattoos, just remembering to turn off the engine before he was out of the car, Micah hot on his heels.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
Julian ripped open the door to LA, ignoring the startled look on Cyn’s face. “I think your father is trying to kill my mate.”
Cyn damn near jumped out of her skin as Julian raced into the shop, a strange man hot on his heels. She crouched, her claws extended, ready to defend her mate from danger. Julian shouldn’t even be out of bed, let alone running anywhere. The doctors still hadn’t cleared him to do anything more strenuous than eat a sandwich and pee.
In two strides Julian had her in his arms, his face buried in her hair. “You’re all right.”
She allowed her claws and fangs to recede. Julian would never hug her in front of a dangerous stranger. “Jules?” He was shaking like a leaf. She tugged on his braid, stroking his back when he shuddered. “What’s wrong?”
The relief in his silver gaze was overwhelming. “Nothing, I just had a bad feeling.”
Cyn froze. Tabby had once told her that Julian’s bad feelings were almost as good as a prophecy. Something was about to go down, and her mate was smack dab in the middle of it. Without letting go of Julian, she pointed toward the stranger. “Does he have anything to do with it?”
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