“Your fingers,” she moaned, “use your fingers.” Arlo abided, sinking them deep into her core. She fucked his hand, wanting to come. And just as her body was spiraling toward orgasm his mouth and fingers were suddenly gone.
Her eyes popped open with alarm. The bed broke her fall as he pushed her onto her back.
It was Arlo on his knees now, turgid cock swaying as he brought her ankles to his shoulders. Nisa watched him through her lashes. She was ready for him, willing to beg if she had to. But he never let it come to that—just braced himself on the mattress and drove himself into her.
He worked to a steady rhythm, her tits quaking from the force of it. She let her body surrender, her head hanging backward off the bed. A shadow moved under the door. Shane. That son of a bitch was listening.
Arlo followed her gaze, then grabbed the back of her neck, forcing her to focus. His pace was almost feverish now, her moans all the more guttural as he plunged in deeper. He smiled, refusing to spare Shane’s feelings. If Shane wanted to listen, then Arlo wanted him to hear.
“You like how I fuck you, baby?”
“I love it,” she panted.
“You gonna come for me?”
“YES!”
Waves of orgasm crashed through her floodgates. Her pussy wrapped Arlo like a fist, demanding his release. She roiled with another spasm, screaming out again as his pelvis made a few final thrusts, and he collapsed.
Nisa’s legs slid from his shoulders to wrap around his waist. She held them there as he kissed the sweat from her neck and breasts. Then he fell to the side, searching for his breath, and Nisa rolled on top of him, resting her head on his chest.
Minutes ticked by before they could speak again.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said. “Go somewhere for a while.”
“Yeah.” Nisa nodded. “Let’s do that.”
“I want to know about you, Nisa.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
Her whole body blushed. “But first we shower.”
His laugh was so effortless, so genuine.
“And brush our teeth,” she said.
He interlaced his fingers with hers. “We’re going to have an adventure, you and I. It won’t be rote or easy, but I promise, it’ll be worth it.”
Nisa kissed his chest. “I believe you.”
CHAPTER Two
“I’m not wearing his clothes.”
Nisa and Arlo had showered together. He’d washed her hair and she’d scrubbed his back, and then they’d made love again under the water. Now they were standing at the vanity—Nisa at her sink, Arlo at what used to be Shane’s. He was using Nisa’s toothbrush and watching her in the mirror.
“Babe. Come on.” Nisa twisted wet hair into a bun, then brushed her eyebrows.
Arlo took the toothbrush out of his mouth. “No,” then resumed brushing.
“So you’re going to walk the streets with your ding-a-ling out?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Nisa disappeared into her walk-in closet. They were going for lunch and to get Arlo’s stuff. And to be somewhere without lurking husbands. She pulled a white circle skirt from a hanger and an orange capped-sleeve shirt from a drawer.
Arlo rinsed out his mouth, then stood in the closet doorway watching her get dressed.
“You drive an SUV, right? No one will even see me.”
“Are we having our first argument?” she teased.
“Will there be make-up sex later?”
“Probably.”
“Then we definitely are.”
Nisa pulled chinos from Shane’s side of the closet. Shane had moved to the guest bedroom when they’d returned from Mill Valley, but a lot of his clothes still hung in the master. Arlo continued to stare as she held out the pants.
“Darling, your cock is huge. And I love that it’s huge. But it’s gonna cause a wreck.”
Arlo grinned, taking the pants. They were short on him, but he rolled the cuffs to make them work. He’d run to the house in Beast mode last night. Wearing Shane’s clothes was the only way he could reasonably leave in daylight.
She tossed him a linen shirt then looked at his bare feet. “What about shoes?”
“Don’t push it.”
#
Arlo had been staying in Malibu and Nisa lived in Studio City. The 101 FWY was the best way to get there if you could outsmart LA traffic. As a driver, Nisa was pretty aggressive. So she was more than up for the task.
Arlo pushed hair back from his face. They’d both wanted the windows down, and now wind whipped through the cabin. “I never would’ve guessed you liked to drive this fast.”
Nisa laughed. “Am I making you nervous?”
“Little bit.”
She looked over her shoulder then darted to the next lane. “Turnabout’s fair play.”
“I underestimated you,” he said. “I think we all did.”
Something fluttered in Nisa’s chest. “I underestimated myself. For a very long time.”
“Shane won’t give up, you know. In his own twisted way he’ll try to win you back.”
“You mean he’ll try to keep controlling me. It’s not about our marriage, it’s about his career. He thinks he’s battling for his livelihood.”
“I think he’s battling for you. He’s just not very good at it.” Arlo was quiet for a moment as he studied the traffic. “I’ve been selfish, haven’t I? I was so determined to have you. I never considered how it would upend your life.”
“My life needed upending.”
“It was impulsive though. Even for me.”
Nisa gunned it as she again switched lanes. “Maybe so, but I have no regrets.”
“Good, because neither do I.”
“Good,” she said. “Now let’s talk about Willa.”
Arlo’s face turned grim.
“What happened after I left?”
“She told me I wasn’t to see you again.”
“And?”
“And that she was tired of cleaning up my messes.”
“Is that all? Because her ‘cutting you from the pack’ threat seemed pretty genuine.”
“Yeah, well” Arlo nodded. “That’s kind of her ‘go-to.’ If she really wanted to hurt me, she’d use a pack enforcer.”
“Wait. What?” Nisa raced to exit at Topanga Canyon. “You guys have an enforcer?”
“Every pack does. The alpha usually keeps us in line, but if that doesn’t work . . . The enforcer is there to take care of it.”
Nisa broke hard at the light. She looked at Arlo, eyes wide. “Take care of it?” Arlo leaned against the headrest and ran a single finger across his neck. Nisa looked back at the road, breathing a little heavier. “Wow.”
“It doesn’t happen very often.”
Nisa rubbed her cheeks. “I’m pretty sure this will be considered you not staying in line. What happens when Willa finds out?”
“I haven’t quite figured that out yet.”
Nisa held her breath, focusing on the sound of the blinker.
“She won’t kill me, Nisa.”
“You don’t know that.”
“She was just mad. I hadn’t fucked up like that in a long time. So it took her by surprise.”
“I thought forming your own pack meant you were out of danger. If she’s going to kill you anyway, then this,” she gestured between them, “isn’t worth it.”
A horn blared behind them. Nisa flipped the bird, then pulled into the intersection.
“Yes, it is,” Arlo insisted.
“It’s not worth your life.”
“It is.”
Suddenly Topanga Canyon was swallowing Nisa whole. “I saw you when we left for the airport that morning. I saw you running beside us. It gave me hope. I’ve lived on that hope for four months. Now it could all be undone. We went from ‘wither and die’ to you getting your neck broken, or stabbed, or shot.”
Arlo laughed.
“It’
s not funny! Cut from the pack or flat out murdered. Either way, you die.”
Arlo looked at Nisa, still amused. “Willa used the threat of cutting me off to manipulate you. She made it sound worse than it is to get you to comply. Being without a pack is lonely. Psychologically it can be crushing, and wolves without packs sometimes get depressed and take their own lives. But depending on the wolf, they can find another pack. If she was really that serious—if she really wanted to punish me with death—she’d rather I face the enforcer and get it done quickly.” Nisa looked skeptical. “I’m not saying she wouldn’t set me adrift. I’m just saying it’s not a punishment that would necessarily kill me. There are work-arounds, and Willa of all people knows that. For me, being dropped from the pack is more akin to shaming.”
“Then why form your own pack if it’s such an innocuous threat?”
“Because I’d no longer have to answer to her. We can be together, and she’d have no right to interfere.”
“But we’ll have the threat of the enforcer hanging over our heads. Does not being pack stop him from killing you?”
“Death can always find us, Nisa. Enforcer or no enforcer. All we can do in this life is fight and fuck and rail against it.”
“Not when you have a child. Not when there are people in your life that matter. We have to build and sacrifice, and do everything we can to survive.”
“And we will.”
Nisa bit her lip and tasted blood.
“She’s not going to have me killed, Nisa. At least not over this.”
“You’d better be right.”
CHAPTER Three
They’d talked about Willa and Shane for almost the entire drive to Malibu. Now Nisa wanted to hear about Arlo. She was painfully aware of how little she knew about him. Not his age. Not his last name. Not his job or if he even had one.
“What are you thinking about?” Arlo implored.
“That for all I know, you could be a serial killer.”
“Is that a deal breaker?”
“Probably not.”
“Didn't think so.” Arlo grinned. “Make a U-turn at the light.”
Arlo was staying in the Malibu Colony—an exclusive neighborhood just off the Pacific Coast Highway. PCH was beautiful. It ran the length of the California coast with ocean views the entire way. Studio City wasn’t far from the beach, yet Nisa rarely found reasons to make the drive.
She looped back around to Malibu Colony Road, then pulled up to the guardhouse. She knew of the neighborhood—everyone in her industry did—but this would be her first time getting past the gates. The guard leaned over to look in the window. He was older but fit. A retired beat cop, maybe.
“How are you today, Mr. Silva?” He had a strong Boston accent.
“I’m great, Dennis. How’s Bertha?”
“Visiting the grandkids. She’s back next week.”
“Well, stay out of trouble until then.”
Dennis eyed Nisa appreciatively, then smacked the “access” button. “Same to you.”
The gate opened and Nisa drove through. Arlo’s last name was Silva and she’d learned it from a stranger. They had some catching up to do.
Oceanfront property was always at a premium, but even more so here. They’d left the canopy of the trees to find slender, tightly packed lots lining a well-groomed street. Some of the houses were low-key bungalows. But others, in the absence of land, had expanded several stories upward.
Nisa leaned forward for a better look. “Which one is it?”
“The white one on the right.”
Nisa slowed, pulling into a shallow driveway. The facade of the house was pristine—simple and international in design. She killed the engine, then squinted as they stepped into the sunlight. Arlo led the way to the entrance a few yards back from the street.
“Do you have a key?”
“Don’t need one.”
Nisa followed Arlo’s gaze to the third floor, where an awning window hung open a few inches. Without a word, he backed away from the door and, with bare feet, took a running start for the side of the house. He pushed off his back foot, put his front foot on the wall, then leaped to grab a narrow ledge on the second story.
He swung his body left to right a few times, pushed his feet off an adjacent wall, and leaped again. He seemed to be hanging on by his fingertips, but he’d reached the open window. Nisa backed away, steering clear in case he dropped. Then he hooked the metal frame, pulled himself up, and wedged his body through. The entire maneuver had only taken seconds.
Nisa checked the street. If someone happened by this could technically look like breaking and entering. Two men were jogging past with a large dog. The man on the left looked familiar. She’d seen him in an action movie recently. The man on the right was younger and even fitter. Probably a celebrity trainer. And yet, she doubted that either of them could do what Arlo had just done. Not so quickly, anyway.
Locks turned and the front door opened.
Arlo gave a dorky bow. Then Nisa step inside and gave an equally dorky curtsy.
While the outside of the house looked charming and expensive, the inside was spectacular. The back wall was made almost entirely of glass. Floor-to-ceiling windows framing sun, sand, and miles of sparkling water. It felt like seeing the ocean for the very first time.
Nisa smiled in wonder, then crossed the stone floor to the sliding patio door. Arlo followed, his hand finding the back of Nisa’s neck as he came to stand next to her. She could see the two of them reflected faintly in the glass, superimposed over the water. It struck her how good they looked. How good it felt to be together.
Their eyes locked, then their bodies melted into one another. His hands cradled her face. Her fingers sought the skin under his shirt. There were tongues and teeth and heavy breathing. He peeled off her jacket then reached under her skirt.
She struggled against his embrace. “We can’t,” she said. “We have to talk first.” He put his hands around her waist, pulling her closer to kiss her neck, but she insisted. “Also, I’m starving.”
Arlo groaned, but stole one more kiss. “Let’s see what’s in the fridge.”
#
Nisa grabbed a chunk of mango and put the whole thing in her mouth, then chewed thoughtfully as she surveyed her options. The refrigerator was stocked with cut fruit, gourmet salads, and prepared meats. Pregnancy had given her a discerning sense of smell. She planned to sniff her way to the perfect midday meal.
She tried the first container and wrinkled her nose. As much as she usually loved tuna, it was now one of those things she simply couldn’t stomach. She tried another. Some kind of chicken dish with spicy peppers. The next one held grilled salmon fillets with lemon and dill. We have a winner.
There was a brussels sprout salad on the next shelf down and day-old baguette hiding near the microwave. She put the salad and salmon on the counter, then started slicing the bread.
She could hear Arlo trotting down the steps. While she’d raided the fridge, he’d gone to change. He’d had more than enough of wearing Shane’s clothes. She’d already turned on the broiler and was slathering the bread slices with butter and tarragon. Arlo was still barefoot, but he’d put on linen pants and a distressed black tee shirt. He walked into the kitchen and Nisa liked what she saw.
“Whatcha got there?” he said.
“Salmon and brussels sprouts. And soon-to-be tarragon toast.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“What do you have to drink around here?”
Arlo opened the fridge and riffled through the lower shelf. “Horchata, mint lemonade, cucumber water . . .”
“Cucumber water? Geez, who stocked this place?”
Arlo laughed, opting for the mint lemonade. “Lucinda.”
The name sounded familiar. “She was part of the kitchen staff, right? In Mill Valley?” Nisa sliced off a few more pieces. “Does she live down here?”
Arlo set the lemonade pitcher on the counter then stole a slice of the bread
. “Yeah. Near Miracle Mile.”
“Why come all the way out here to stock your fridge?”
He took his time chewing as Nisa put the bread under the broiler. “She grocery shops. Cooks. She does anything food related that we need her to do.”
“Who’s we?”
“Me. Willa. Callum.”
The oven door slammed as it slipped from Nisa’s grip. “Is this their house?”
Arlo shoved the rest of the slice into his mouth.
Nisa surveyed with new eyes. Of course this was their house. It was more casual than the one in Mill Valley, but it was Willa’s taste. Clean and bright, with eclectic artwork and expensively crafted furniture. Who else would it belong to?
Arlo tried to fix it. “They don’t come here very often. They’re mostly at the Beverly Hills house.”
Nisa had assumed this place wasn’t Arlo’s but thought he and Willa were on the outs. It never occurred to her he’d being staying at her house. Once again, she’d strolled into the wolf’s den. She’d planned to ask him for a tour. But now, as beautiful as it was, all she wanted was out of this lovely trap.
“Why are you staying here?” she asked.
Arlo took the toast from the broiler before it burned. “Where else would I stay?”
“Somewhere that Willa can’t just stop in?” She expected Willa to round the corner at any second, holding her glasses and haughty as ever.
“If Willa and Callum want to see me, they’ll summon me to Beverly Hills. That’s how they do things.”
“Where is your home?”
“You are my home. But if you mean where do I normally lay my head, the answer is everywhere. I own property up north but I’m always on the go, so I rent it out. And when I come to LA, I stay with Willa.”
Nisa took a minute to breathe. “Can we take our food down to the beach or something? I need to not be here right now.”
Arlo ran the back of his fingers over Nisa’s cheek. “Of course.”
Nisa turned away and they packed their food in silence.
#
Nisa thought they’d go to the part of the beach that was right behind the house. But instead Arlo had grabbed the keys to a locked side gate that led from the Colony over to Malibu Lagoon. Small and cornucopia-shaped, it was separated from the ocean by a narrow sandbar—a state beach made to feel private by its discreet PCH turnoff.
Night Creatures: Book 2 Page 2
