Crossroads sa-2

by Moira Rogers

  Derek had to set his beer can aside to keep from crushing it as the wolf howled in warning. There was danger here, but not the sort he’d expected. “So, a keeper. Someone like Nick?”

  “Someone like Nick.”

  It seemed too easy, which meant it wasn’t. It wouldn’t be as simple as packing Michelle up and moving her into Nick’s spare bedroom. If he’d learned anything over the past two years, it was to view the actions of the shapeshifter aristocracy through the lens of antiquated prejudice and misogyny.

  It didn’t take a scholar of history to recognize the obvious answer, not with Luciano and everything he represented sitting right in front of him. “Someone like Nick and a well-trained husband who does every damn thing they say.” Anger infused his words, and he let it. Anger was better than fear.

  Luciano stared down at his own hands. “You’re not slow. That’s good.”

  “That’s some condescending bullshit, not an answer.”

  “Come on, Gabriel. Nick’s always been a dreamer, but you strike me as the realistic type.”

  Wanting to deny the truth just because Luciano had agreed with it was an immature, idiotic urge. Derek braced his elbows on his knees and dropped his face to his hands. “Have you been watching me this whole time, thinking I’m a fucking fool? An idiot who thought he could be a part of her life?”

  “No.” The denial was quick and sincere. “Nick thinks she can talk them into letting her look out for Michelle down here. But that isn’t going to happen, no matter what she says to them.” He rose and paced the floor. “Nick wants to be with you, and she wants to take care of her sister. What she doesn’t understand yet is that she can’t do both.”

  I have to let her go. Even as the thought formed, he couldn’t quite believe it had come from him. But Luciano hadn’t put it there—it had been festering inside him all along, the danger his wolf couldn’t understand because it would never understand that asking Nick to choose his love over her sister’s life would mean losing her anyway. If he backed her into that corner, he’d be as bad as the Conclave. He’d be worse, because he was supposed to care about her.

  Derek stared at his hands and said it out loud, just to be sure. “I have to let her go.”

  “Maybe not forever.” Luciano offered the words, but they were meaningless. “Maybe not even for long.”

  A week ago, that reassurance might have given him hope. But hope was in short supply, and nothing could silence his furious instincts. They demanded that he fight, for Nick and for what they could be together. She was his.

  And I have to let her go.

  They drove back to Nick’s house in silence. Half a dozen times, Derek opened his mouth to say the words, to broach the subject they both avoided as if by mutual consent.

  And half a dozen times he closed it again without a word, because knowing what he had to do didn’t make it easier. Not with Nick sitting next to him, radiating misery and hopelessness.

  She didn’t speak when she parked and unlocked the front door, or while they walked through the dark foyer and up the stairs. When they reached her bedroom, she bypassed the lights and sank to the edge of the bed. “I have to go to New York tomorrow.”

  “For how long?”

  “I don’t know. A few days, at least. Maybe longer.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “As long as it takes for me to convince them.”

  Derek knelt in front of her and laid his hands on her knees. “You don’t have to say it, Nicky. I understand.”

  “No, you don’t.” Her head fell forward, and hot tears splashed on his skin as her shoulders shook. “I don’t even understand why the stupid bastards won’t listen to me.”

  His heart broke as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize to me. I’m sorry. I’m—” The words broke off in a sob.

  “I know you care about me. If there was any way…” His voice shook, and he swallowed back tears and tightened his arms around her. “You need to save your sister. You need to fight for her, and you can’t do that with me around. But I’ll be here.” I love you.

  “No.” She pulled back to look at him, her face set in a mask of pain. “I can’t ask you to do that. I might have to sell the bar and my house. I don’t know if I’ll make it back to New Orleans, Derek. You can’t wait for me.”

  You can’t stop me. But telling her wouldn’t help, not now. Now he needed to give her what she needed. He had to give her goodbye.

  He lifted his hands to frame her face and kissed her once, hard. “If this is the last time, I want everything.”

  “Everything.” Nick closed her eyes, but tears slipped down her cheeks anyway. “I love you.”

  Those three words weren’t supposed to destroy him. Derek kissed the tears from her cheeks and prayed she wouldn’t open her eyes and find him crying too. “I love you, Nicole Parker Peyton.”

  She nuzzled his face as she tugged at his shirt. “Make love to me, like it’s any other night. Like it’ll never end.”

  It would be something to remember when he was alone in his cold, miserable bed. He lifted her to the bed and held up his arms so she could remove his shirt. Hers tore a little when he got his hands on it, but soon she was shirtless and he was free to cover her shoulders and neck with desperate kisses.

  She wove her fingers into his hair and held his mouth to her skin while she whispered soft, encouraging words. Her whispers turned into gasps and then moans, and she let go. “Lie down.”

  He couldn’t deny her anything. Not now. He crawled on the bed, rolled onto his back and held out a hand. “Come here.”

  Nick clasped his hand and knelt over him. Her hair brushed his skin as she bent to trace hot circles on his chest with her tongue. Every movement was careful, deliberate, as if she meant to memorize him.

  Finally, she kissed his stomach and lowered her hands to his belt.

  “Baby.” He held her head and tried not to arch up against her. “God, I want you so bad. I need you.”

  She unbuckled his belt, loosened his jeans and freed his cock. “I dreamt about doing this for so long.”

  Even with their lives falling apart, the instincts inside him stirred. The soft touch of her hand conjured fantasies, the urge to rise off the bed and spill them both to the floor. To turn her over and take her with sure, strong thrusts that branded her as his. Instead, he dropped his hands to the bed and grasped the comforter. “Do whatever you want. Anything.”

  Her breath blew over him, hot and teasing, a moment before she took him in her mouth.

  Derek groaned as heat shot through him. “Fuck!”

  It was slow and torturous. She stroked every inch of his cock with her hands, lips and tongue, breathing appreciative sighs and moans when he arched into her touch.

  It was perfect, and it wasn’t nearly enough. Derek reached for her, wrapped his hands around her arms and tugged lightly. “Get up here. I want to kiss you.”

  She crawled over him, flushed and panting. “What else do you want?”

  “Just you.” He tangled his fingers in her hair and dragged her lips to his. He poured everything into the kiss, everything he couldn’t say and everything he felt. The love that should have been enough but couldn’t be.

  Nick melted into him, her desperation matching his own. She began to jerk at her jeans, and she whispered against his mouth. “Help me, baby.”

  He almost tore the button free from the denim. His fingers fumbled with the zipper, and he froze. “Shit. Condoms. We’re supposed to remember condoms this time.”

  She bit his jaw with a growl and leaned over to fumble with the nightstand drawer. “I have some…”

  Derek rolled over and reached past her to yank the drawer free from the nightstand. It fell to the floor with a clatter, and he snatched up a condom and tossed it on the bed next to them with a low noise.

  Nick lay beneath him, her ass pressing up against his cock. She laid her cheek on her arm and drew in a shaky br
eath. “It feels so good when you touch me.”

  “I know.” He kissed her shoulder and then her back as he dragged her jeans the rest of the way down her legs. His pants joined hers on the floor, and for several heartbeats he simply stood at the edge of the bed and tried to fix the sight of her stretched out on the bed in his memory. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, Nicky.”

  She watched him, her eyes dark, and he knew she was doing the same thing—studying him until she could remember every detail and moment. “Say it again.”

  The bed dipped under his weight as he knelt next to her and smoothed his hand up the line of her spine. “You’re gorgeous. You’re beautiful.”

  “So are you.” She shivered. “I’ve always thought so. Even when you were taking your shirt off just to torture me.”

  He didn’t have to ask what she was talking about. New Year’s Eve, when he’d gotten too drunk on shots of vodka to care that he’d just challenged a telekinetic to a game of strip darts. Nick’s gaze on his body had been a triumph and a torment, proof that she wanted him even if he couldn’t bring himself to take her.

  Too little, too late.

  Derek banished the thought, rolled onto his back and reached for her. “Stop talking and kiss me.”

  She came to him, her mouth and hands hot and eager. Foil crinkled as she pressed the condom into his hand and bit his neck.

  His hands fumbled. He felt too clumsy, too frantic, but there was no way to slow down. She kissed him so hard he wanted to drown in it, and it wasn’t until he had the condom on and his fingers wrapped around her hips that he really believed it was the last time.

  Nick hovered over him, her mouth on his. She started to speak but kissed him again and angled her hips down over his in a smooth rock that brought him deep inside her.

  Thought shattered. The woman of his dreams was over him, riding him, and it was so fucking perfect all he could do was clutch her waist and whisper her name.

  She rode him, her hands braced on his stomach and her head thrown back. Her movements were slow at first, silent until her breath began to escape in pants and moans. Every roll of her hips was more intense than the last, until she was digging her nails into his skin and gasping his name.

  Derek ground his teeth together and slid his fingers between her legs. “That’s it, baby. Come on…”

  She came as soon as he touched her. A desperate, shuddering cry tore free of her, and she jerked against his hand as she tightened around his cock. Pleasure turned sharp as the need to give in clawed at him, but he dug his teeth into his lower lip and took over the rhythm of their movements.

  Her eyes snapped open as a second orgasm shook through her, and she leaned forward to bite his chin. “Please,” she whispered, her voice husky with pleasure. “Derek—”

  He wanted to hold on. For minutes, for hours… Forever. His body betrayed him with her next whimpering cry, and the world swam in hazy pleasure as he came with her name on his lips.

  Nick wrapped her arms around him and tucked her head against his shoulder. It took a while for her to speak, and she still sounded breathless. “Will you stay tonight?”

  It would prolong the agony, but he didn’t know how to say no. So he stroked her hair back and prayed he’d be strong enough to walk away in the morning. “Of course.”

  Chapter 15

  They were keeping her sister in a fucking dungeon.

  Nick plastered a bland look on her face. She couldn’t afford to have the guards report her reactions to the Conclave, not if she expected them to believe she was approaching the entire matter as a rational member of their society and not an angry, emotional sister.

  Michelle saw through her. Her tiny smile was tired but real. “They let us stay together. Thank you for making that happen.”

  Aaron wore the carefully impassive expression he’d cultivated over years of service to the Conclave. Nick touched his arm. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I may not know anything yet, but I’ll be by to visit.”

  “Thank you, Nicole.” His gaze found hers. For one brief moment, she saw that same resignation from the day at the safe house, the day he’d told her he was going to die. “Do you think you could talk your father into sending down some fruit for Michelle?”

  “Aaron.” Michelle gave him an exasperated look. “I’m not sure pregnancy cravings are top priority at the moment.”

  “I’ll ask Mrs. Maglieri.” Enrica would be flattered by the deference. “I’ll take care of it.” One of the guards nodded to her, and Nick stifled a sigh. “I have to go now. Sleep well tonight.”

  She didn’t wait for an answer, and both guards flanked her as she headed for the door. It swung open to reveal not only Mahalia but also a tall man loitering nervously in the hallway. He looked like Alec, only older and softer, and Nick wanted to run in the opposite direction. “Mr. Jacobson.”

  “Nicole.” He rubbed a hand over his hair and smiled at her. “It’s so nice to see you back in New York.”

  It’s nice to be here. The expected words hung in her throat, and she couldn’t resist a subtle dig. “Thank you. Alec sends his regards.”

  The barb hit. He stiffened and shot a dirty look at Mahalia, who favored him with a sweet smile. “So I’ve been told.”

  “He’s a good friend.” Nick ignored her own revulsion and took his hand in hers, patting it. “Like the brother I never had.”

  “Oh. That’s…” His smile turned sickly. “I promised Jorge I’d meet him for dinner, so I have to run. Good luck with your…petition.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Jacobson.”

  He rallied enough for one last retort. “I’m sure you’ll be joining us for dinner tomorrow night at the Ochoas’ penthouse. Jorge’s sons were looking forward to seeing you again.”

  The reminder of her true worth in their society brought goose bumps to her flesh. “They’re charming men,” she managed to say, “just like their father.”

  She didn’t wait for him to respond. When she turned away, Mahalia grasped her arm. “Come on, honey. I’m taking you back to your daddy’s place.”

  “It’s not far, May. I can manage on my own.”

  “Shush.” They reached the end of the hall, and Mahalia called the elevator. “You need a break from the maneuvering, and I need a friendly face.”

  They didn’t speak again until they’d made it up to the ground floor, through the lobby and out into the fading sunlight. A breeze whipped some of Nick’s hair free of its awkwardly secured bun, and she gripped Mahalia’s arm tightly. “I thought it would be hard.”

  “What?”

  “Coming back here.” Except that wasn’t quite right. “No. I wondered if I’d even remember how things worked up here, but it’s like second nature.”

  Mahalia huffed. “First nature is more like it. Good or bad, you were raised in this, Nicole. This is what you know.”

  “I guess.” People hurried past them as they strolled down the street toward the park. “It sucks to realize I belong with a bunch of power-hungry vultures.”

  “Didn’t say you belonged here.” Mahalia wrinkled her nose. “I think you belong down in Louisiana with that boy of yours, and the quicker you can get back, the better.”

  Nick shouldn’t have been so damn cold in a long-sleeved shirt and blazer. “I’m not going back to New Orleans, May.”

  Mahalia stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and grasped Nick’s shoulders. “You can’t mean that.”

  It was the one thing she hadn’t let herself consider, but it had become tragically apparent after only a few hours in New York. The other Conclave members weren’t interested in any agreement she made with Enrica. Most of them had strong sons who wanted to lead, and much more to gain from having them married into the Peyton line than from having Nick out of the way. It was a more traditional route to power than scrambling after the end of a former Alpha’s legacy, and Conclave members could be depended on to prefer tradition over nearly anything else.

  Nick had no choice but to go along with it.
Her agreement with Enrica meant nothing if the rest of the Conclave refused to support it, and the only way to leverage a better outcome for Michelle was to have them all vying for her favor. They’d go out of their way to please her if it meant she might accept a marriage proposal, and that potential for leniency offered the best chance Michelle and Aaron had at happiness.

  Mahalia was still staring at her, bewildered, and Nick averted her eyes. “Going back to Louisiana isn’t an option for me. That’s what Alec’s dad was talking about when he mentioned Ochoa’s sons. My value here is tied to marriage. To—to breeding. It’s the only thing I have to bargain with.”

  Mahalia ground her teeth together. “Did you tell Derek Gabriel that?”

  If she’d known what she’d have to do, she could have given him that truth. In her more selfish moments, she was glad she hadn’t known, hadn’t had to tell him and see the look in his eyes when he understood she’d soon belong to another man. “I told him not to wait for me.”

  “And when he hears you’ve married someone else?”

  “That isn’t fair, May. I ended it.” Pain lanced through Nick, and her throat burned. “We ended it. I didn’t lie to Derek, and I didn’t make him any promises. He knows I—he—” She couldn’t cry on the street a block from the Conclave’s headquarters. She wouldn’t. “Can we talk about it later?”

  The older woman’s stricken expression hurt to see, and Nick looked away again, just in time to see a dark limousine pull to a stop beside them. She tensed instinctively, but the back window slid down to reveal her father’s face.

  He smiled, the expression tired. “How’s your sister?”

  “Better since she found out they’re letting Aaron stay with her.” She eyed the car. “Were you going in or headed home?”

  “I’m headed home, if you’d like to ride with me.” Her father’s gaze flickered to Mahalia. “Ms. Tate, I hope you’ll join us as well.”