by Jessica Sims
She feels like perfection.
I keep my hand on her pussy as I stroke into her, letting the motion of our bodies provide the friction she needs. I pump into her slowly, my body arched over hers. I’m being careful with her, but it’s getting harder not to lose myself in her. I want to give up control, to stop being so careful and to fuck her until she screams with pleasure…but she’s pregnant. And inexperienced.
“Connor,” she gasps, rocking back against me. “I need more.”
“More what, baby? Tell me.” I want to please her, to make this good for her.
“More…everything.” Her hands claw at the bed and she squeezes her eyes shut. “Just…more.”
Could it be that she doesn’t want me to be as gentle with her as I think she does? I pull back and thrust into her, hard. “Is that what you want?”
She gasps, a little broken sound, and I swear her legs tighten. Her entire body seems to contract a little. She nods jerkily and bites her lip.
That little nibble on her lip is the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen. My balls tighten, ready to shotgun my own release. I pound into her again, gripping her hip tight. All pretense of being careful with her is tossed out the window when she moans again, and then I’m hammering into my mate, thrusting over and over, faster and faster, determined to make her come before I shatter. Her moan turns into soft cries, and then I feel her body clench tight around mine, her pussy locking tight around my cock like a vise.
“Connor!” She breathes my name even as she shudders, coming.
It’s the most fucking glorious thing I’ve ever seen. A growl surges from my throat, and I slam into her again, pumping hard. My balls tighten so hard they feel as if they’re going to contract into my spine—
And then I’m coming, the orgasm washing over me as I spill my load into her tight, welcoming body. She moans under me, quivering, and I seem to come forever, unloading into her. All the breath leaves my body and I rock into her slowly, even though every muscle in my body seems to be strung as tight as a bow. Pleasure pulses through my brain, and all I can think about is her. Her body under mine, her pussy clenching around my cock, her accepting my seed.
My mate. My Savannah.
All mine.
Chapter 20
SAVANNAH
Even though I know Bathsheba’s probably been up all night cooking for the barbecue, I still make three kinds of potato salad in the morning to bring over. I hum as Connor peels potatoes and I dice, and it feels like a wonderful, cozy morning. I’m in a terrific mood. Great sex helps, I think happily to myself, and last night’s sex? Pretty freaking great. And this morning’s quickie when Connor woke up and played with my clit until I came and then pushed into me as we spooned? Pretty freaking great, too.
So yeah, I’m in a fantastic mood.
Instead of one of my summer dresses that fit so easily over my pregnant body, I opt for a skirt and cardigan and a bright floral scarf knotted at my neck. It’s a warm outfit, but my neck is covered in stubble-burns and hickies, so it’s either that or a turtleneck. I feel obvious, but…I also don’t care too much.
Right now? I’m just happy.
We pack the enormous bowls of potato salad in the back of my little car, and I frown at the sight of it. My hatchback has served me well as a single woman but I’m about to have twins. “Do you think we need a family car?” I ask Connor.
His face breaks into a beaming grin and the gleam in his eyes is possessive and proud all at once.
“What?” I squirm under his gaze, feeling a little aroused and curious all at once.
“You said ‘we’.”
Oh. So I did. Maybe I’m not hating this after all. I feel my cheeks heat. “It’s just a general sort of question.”
“Any particular kind of car you like?” he asks me, moving around to the passenger side and opening the door for me. “I can trade in my truck.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I protest as I haul my pregnant, ungainly body into my tiny car.
He shuts the door and frowns down at me. “Of course I do. I want the children to be safe, and I need more of a back seat. They won’t be able to sit in the passenger seat until they’re twelve or older. I read that in a parenting magazine.”
As he moves around to the driver’s side, I watch him, a little surprised and a lot pleased. He’s taking this very seriously. I don’t know why I didn’t think he would. Maybe because Connor’s young like me, and I still feel like I’m not ready to be a parent? I’m not giving the man enough credit, though. He’s whipped his pack into shape in a matter of months, and if he can keep them in hand, I imagine he’d be a great dad.
We’re just about out of the driveway when his phone starts buzzing with several incoming texts. Connor shoots me an aggrieved look, puts the car in park, and scans the texts. I watch him as he texts quickly.
“Problem?”
He shakes his head. “Just pack stuff. They can’t seem to wipe their asses without asking for advice.”
I chuckle. That sounds about right. Wolves like to have someone in charge. It’s a way they feel protected and safe. Cats are more independent. I brush my fingers over my rounded stomach, wondering which one my children will be.
A foot kicks, right where my hand rests, and I chuckle.
Connor immediately forgets his phone and gives me an excited look. “They moving?”
I nod and guide his hand to the spot where the activity is happening, and a look of wonder crosses his face as the babies kick and bounce. “I never get tired of that,” he tells me. “Never.”
I don’t, either. It feels special that we’re able to share it together. We feel like a family.
When we pull up to the Russell farm, there’s a fleet of cars in the long gravel driveway. There’s Ramsey’s truck, which means he and Sara are here. Austin, Ellis, Everett, and Josh’s vehicles are all lined up in the grass. I even see Jeremiah’s truck, which means he’ll be here with Sam and Miko, his mates. Ryder’s parked behind him, her tiny, cheery pink car obvious.
No sign of Craig’s car. Thank goodness. I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s going to be a relaxing day, then, once I get everyone used to the fact that Connor’s with me again. That’s going to be a hurdle to cross, but for once, my pregnant state will work for me - Beau’s not going to want to yell at a pregnant lady.
I’m busy contemplating the best way to break it to my rigid, controlled cousin that I’ve brought a wolf to a cougar party when a car pulls up behind us. The gravel churns, and I look up to see the Anderson pack pulling up in a familiar truck. “Uh, Conn?”
Did I think my cousin was going to shit a kitten when he found out Connor was back with me? He’s going to shit a whole litter when he finds out the entire Anderson pack has arrived.
Connor looks up from the enormous bowl of potato salad he’s gripping and then swears. “I didn’t invite them, baby. I swear.”
“You should have,” Gracie calls out as she hops out of the car. “We’re his family. And we brought food. Ya’ll like Natty Light and Cheetos, right?”
I’m sure the look of horror on my face is matched by burly Tony’s. “We did not,” he yelps. “I’ve worked all morning on bacon-wrapped shrimp brochettes and apple tartlets.” He glares at Gracie. “We may be wolves but we’re not idiots. No one brings Natty Light to a party unless you’re in college.”
Gracie just winks at me as the rest of the wolves pile out of the truck. Sure enough, they have tray after tray of foil-covered foods, and I can smell the bacon. It does smell delicious, but the wolves are a problem.
“Nope,” Connor says, shaking his head and surging forward. He’s abandoned my bowls of potato salad on top of the car, and I have to lean over to grab one before it slides off. Connor stalks toward Gracie and the others, and it’s clear he’s furious. “You guys are not ruining this for Savannah—“
“But we’re your family,” Gracie whines, lifting her head in a weird way until I realize she’s showing throat. “Why ca
n’t we come to the party? We never have parties.”
“Because you guys are a bunch of damn bullies. Why would anyone want to hang out with us when we’ve been assholes to every shifter within a hundred miles?” His voice, normally calm and even, is an angry snarl.
I watch Buck and Wyatt flinch, and there’s no mistaking the yearning on Gracie’s face, or the disappointment on Tony’s. Damn it, I’m not overly fond of the Anderson pack either (with one glaring exception) but Gracie’s right. They are Connor’s family, and they’re going to be my children’s family, too.
“It’s okay,” I call out.
When all eyes turn to me, I flinch. Did I just undermine Connor in front of his pack? Is he going to turn on me next? Connor strides up to me and takes the bowl out of my hands, setting it on the hood of the car and then gently turning me away from the others. “No, baby,” he murmurs, smoothing my hair behind my ear. “I want you to have a good time today. I’ll get them to leave, and I’ll follow after them. All right?”
I grab his hand and shake my head. “I don’t want you to go, either. You stay, and they stay. We’ll figure something out.”
A small smile curves his mouth and I can tell he’s pleased that I’m starting to accept his baggage, even if his baggage is a bunch of idiotic grown men who aren’t real good at listening. But hell, I can handle that. The Anderson pack is probably a snap after dealing with clueless Primordials for the past month.
Beau’s still going to freak, though. I’ll just have to work with my cousin. The pack that kidnapped me and tried to shanghai Sara into joining them is a very different pack now. If I’m fine with them, everyone else should be, too.
Still…”Let me go in first and talk to Beau, okay?”
Connor nods and leans in to give me a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll wait out here for your go-ahead.”
“Not too long,” Tony adds, peeking under the foil on one of his trays. “These brochettes won’t be fabulous forever.”
Buck just rolls his eyes.
“Not long,” I agree, and step inside the house.
It feels odd returning, even though I just moved out a little over a week ago. Everything looks the same as it always has, the furniture in the big living room slightly shabby from excessive use and the scents of were-cougars on every surface, layered by the earthy Primordial scents. It’s strange, though — it’s not home. Not any longer. Home for me now involves my sofa, my plain living room, a kitchen full of oysters, and a man that reads baby books in bed while I snuggle against him.
Funny how quickly life can change.
There’s laughter and cheerful voices coming from the back yard, and I can hear the scrape of a fork coming from the kitchen, followed by Bathsheba’s murmur. When I hear Beau answer her, I head in that direction. Sure enough, my cousin is in the kitchen, his arms around his mate as she stirs something on top of the oven. He’s nibbling on her neck, Bath’s long, silky blonde ponytail wrapped around his hand as she tilts her head. It’s such an intimate moment that I hate to interrupt, and cough politely.
My cousin just glances over at me and grins wickedly. “I’m distracting the cook.”
Bath hustles away from him, her pale face bright red with an embarrassed flush. “I told him I was busy, but does he listen? Nooo.” She moves to the pantry and pulls out sugar, even though she’s not really baking anything. I suspect it’s just to provide a distraction.
“We need to talk,” I say, and keep a smile on my face. “I brought a friend to the barbecue.”
Beau tilts his nose into the air, scenting, and then narrow his eyes at me. “If it’s Craig, how come you smell like werewolf?”
Craig? I rack my brain, trying to remember who that is. Oh, right. Mr. Weepy McSweaterton. “It’s not Craig,” I blurt. “I don’t want anything to do with Craig.”
“Well, that might get awkward,” Bath says, setting the sugar on the counter and returning to her saucepan. “He just ran to the store for me to get some pickles.”
Oh, crap. “He’s here?”
“He was.” Beau strides toward me. “Is Connor with you? I smell him on your skin.”
“He is with me,” I confess. “And he’s not the only one. I sort of invited the rest of the pack, too.” Tiny white lie, but I know if I tell him they just showed up for the hell of it, he’ll turn them away.
Beau stills, and behind him, Bathsheba pauses, mid-stir.
I put my hands up to stave off any sort of protest. “They’ll behave. Connor keeps them in line. And we need to bring them into the Paranormal Alliance anyhow. Didn’t you say that the last time Connor was here, you were talking to him about bringing the wolf packs in?”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “That was before you two broke up and you being pregnant. I don’t give a shit about him anymore.”
“Well, I do.” I cross my arms over my chest, too. “Things have changed between us and I want you to accept him. He’s been trying really hard, and he wants to be in my babies’s lives. He’s their father, and—“
“Babies?” Bathsheba perks up and peers around her mate. “Did you say babies as in plural?”
Did I not tell them? Oh my goodness, I’ve been wildly scattered lately. I nod, feeling like a jerk. “I’m having twins.”
She squeals and tosses her spatula down, then races over to hug me. “That’s so wonderful! Here, sit down!” She ushers me toward a nearby chair. “Of course you can bring the wolf pack to the barbecue. Just let me talk to Sara and I’m sure things will be fine. They’re your new family, after all.”
“Bath,” Beau says, a warning note in his voice.
She shoots him a look. “Don’t be like that, Beau.”
“Are you forgetting the Primordials? We’re trying to keep them a secret until they adjust. How are we going to explain twenty four massive guys that don’t know how a coke can works?”
Bath pauses, clearly considering this.
“So, he might already know a bit about the Primordials,” I confess. Ryder’s been good at keeping the fact that Connor’s helping me a secret, but it’ll come out eventually. “He’s been helping with me at the office, and he has some ideas about how we can help them get acclimated to things more easily. He wants to help.”
The look on Beau’s face darkens. “Any other secrets you’ve been sharing with the enemy?”
My fists clench at his overbearing tone. “They’re not the enemy! Not any longer, okay? If you thought the entire pack was a problem, you should have exiled them when you sent Levi and Maynard packing. You let them stay, and Connor became the alpha. He’s done a good job with them. They’re not the same people they were six months ago. They’re shaping up. Even Alice and Jackson think they’re improving, and you know Alice and Jackson are great with their pack. The Andersons can be good members of the Alliance. They’re helping Connor flip houses and even Gracie has a damn job. Who’s to say what they’ll be like after a few years under his guidance?”
They exchange looks.
“I know you don’t like them knowing all our secrets.” I resist the urge to put air quotes around ‘secrets’ because, really, how secret can twenty-four beefy, clueless shifters be? “But you guys have to admit that the Primordials can be overwhelming, and having extra hands to help out would be welcome. I know Ellis is struggling, because Lily’s frightened of them. And I know you and Bath have your hands full.”
They exchange another look. I think I’m wearing them down.
“Can you at least give them a shot? For me?” I touch my stomach, laying on the drama. “And for my babies? Because I’m betting they’re wolves.”
Bathsheba’s face softens and her gaze goes back to my stomach. “Both?”
“Pretty sure,” I tell her, smiling. “I seem to be getting a lot of side-effects that pregnant werewolves do, and Connor’s been helping me with them.”
“So what kinds of ideas does Connor have for the Primordials?” Beau rubs his chin, and I notice he has circles under his eyes. Look
s like I’m not the only one tired of the endless babysitting. The Primordials aren’t bad guys, but they are a lot of work.
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
“I will,” he says with a nod. When I start to get up, he puts a hand into the air, stopping me. “But first…” Beau leans forward and tugs the scarf off my neck.
I squawk in surprise (and a bit of irritation), my hand going to my throat. “What the fuck, Beau?”
“Looking for mate marks.”
“Even if there was one, it’d be none of your damn business.” At the moment, I wish there was one instead of just a few errant hickies. I snatch the scarf back from him and re-tie it around my neck. “So can we be adults about this, please?”
“We can be adults, but I’m still your clan leader,” Beau tells me. The protective look has returned to his face. “I worry about you.”
And my anger disappears, because Beau’s been more like an older brother to me than just a cousin. “I know. But please trust me on this, all right?”
He nods slowly. “I do.”
Chapter 21
CONNOR
I’m the luckiest man alive. I feel it down to my bones as I watch Savannah, her hands resting on her belly as she stands near one of the picnic tables. She chats with Ryder, who is busy arranging the bowls of potato salad, and smiling. Gracie stands near her, listening in and handing slotted spoons out when Ryder puts a hand toward her. My sister looks bored, her gaze flicking to all the men nearby, but Savannah just loops an arm in Gracie’s and keeps her nearby. My heart feels as if it’s going to swell out of my breast with joy at that small movement. My mate is keeping my sister in check. My mate and my sister, together. Smiling.
Nearby, Tony and Buck chat with Jeremiah and Sam. They’re talking football and for once, my chuckleheads are behaving. Sam - a were-lynx - is shoving some of Tony’s food into his mouth and Buck throws his head back and laughs at something Jeremiah says. Nearby, Beau is talking about Owen and Wyatt about construction and adding on to the already-sprawling Russell farm. Ellis is sitting with his mate Lily off to one side, and even though Lily’s cringing a bit, I realize it’s more at the antics of the Primordials (who have very loudly discovered croquet) than anything my pack is doing. So that’s all right.
