by Jessica Sims
“You know, I had this weird moment of desperation,” Craig says in that oddly calm voice. “Ever since our date the other day. I knew the moment I saw you get into the car with the other guy, I knew he was the father of your baby. And I knew you were going to get back together. And I started feeling a little desperate. So I made this big plan. If it only took a few days to talk you back into his arms, then I’d do the same thing. I’d whisk you away and shower you with romance, and make you realize I could be a good mate to you.”
My skin prickles. It’s not just that I’ve been kidnapped by a crazy, sweater-wearing Seattleite. It’s the calm way he’s talking about trying to convince me to fall in love with him. There’s something wrong with this guy, in a serious way. Is he a sociopath? “And you…thought that would work?” I keep my voice gentle and full of understanding. I don’t want to trigger him into a crazy - okay, crazier - mindset.
“I don’t know. I don’t think I ever sat back and thought about what would happen if I went through with things.” He takes another sip of his coffee. “I should have, though. Because I’m realizing that I’ve made a mistake. I didn’t stop to think what I’d do once I went through with this.”
I don’t point out that Craig doesn’t stop to think a lot of things through. From what I know of the guy? He moved here to Texas just because he heard I was possibly in need of a mate. He didn’t even know me, just up and moved. It screams of a lack of impulse control. “So what are you going to do now?”
“Well, I started to take you home with me,” he says in that mild voice. “And then I realized they would find my scent and come after me. And every place I thought to go, I knew they’d go there, too. So I’m debating what I should do.”
I sit up slowly. “Do you need to talk it out?”
He glances back at me in the rearview mirror. “Well, it’s either that or kill you and hide the body.” He laughs nervously.
I go still, my heart thudding.
“That was a joke,” he says awkwardly, then rubs a hand down his face. “Shit, I am terrible at this.”
I say nothing. What can I say to that? It’s certainly not funny to me. And I think of Connor. Sweet, understanding, arrogant, sometimes pushy Connor, who I’ve held at arms’ length for six months, blaming him for the fact that I’m pregnant. I love him, and I’ve wasted so much of our time.
What if these are my last moments on earth? What if Craig’s as crazy as he sounds and I never see Connor again? Never hold him? Never experience again the look of wonder on his face as one of the babies kicks? Never let him put a mate mark on me?
I’m such an idiot. If I hadn’t clung so stubbornly to my freedom, we’d be together right now and Craig wouldn’t even be in the picture. I blink back tears.
If I get out of this, I’m going to fix it. I’m not going to waste another moment of time. I’m going to grab Connor and never let him go.
Craig sighs unhappily again, drawing my attention to him. His head is bent, and he looks miserable. “I just wanted someone to love. A family. Is that so wrong?”
I don’t know whether to club him over the head, or hear him out. “It’s not wrong,” I say delicately. “But you can’t drug and kidnap people if they don’t agree with you.”
“I didn’t know what else to do.”
Is he serious? “Is it me specifically that you want, or a family?” When he hesitates and his gaze flicks to mine in the rearview mirror, I know he’s trying to tactfully choose his answer. That means that it’s not me. Which is a good thing. “Oh, Craig. You do realize I work at a dating agency for paranormals, right? We specialize in matching up shifter men and women. Or vampires, if you’re into that sort of thing.”
“But you’re here and you’re pretty and a cougar and you’re pregnant.”
What, so because I’m a ready made family-starter kit, I’m kidnappable? I keep the smile on my face, even though I want to club him over the head. “But you’re not in love with me?”
“I could be,” he says desperately.
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t put me in danger like this.” I try my best to keep the judgment out of my tone, even though I really want to smack the guy upside the head. My fear is still there, but it’s being rapidly replaced by irritation. I can’t tell if Craig is a dangerous killer…or just a thoughtless douche. “What would you do if you harmed my babies?” They’re fine; one kicks in my belly to make its presence known, but I want to twist the knife a bit and make him realize the enormity of what he’s done.
His face goes pale. “I would never—“
“But you could have,” I snap, then force myself to calm down. “Craig. Do you realize what you’ve done?”
He starts to weep, his face crumpling. “I just want a family, Savannah. I’m so lonely.”
And even though I want to smack him in the face, I pat his shoulder. “Then we need to fix this, don’t we?”
He nods, wiping at his eyes.
“Then the first thing we are going to do is have you bring me home.”
His head jerks up and he looks at me, eyes wide with alarm. “But—“
“You’re going to bring me home,” I say firmly again. “You’re going to apologize for panicking, and I’m going to let everyone know that I wasn’t in any danger with you. Since you’re going to be returning me of your own accord, that will help things along. And they’re probably going to punish you with community service or something, but in the meantime, once you’re done, I can work on getting you set up with a few nice shifter women.”
Provided he’s not exiled, but I won’t bring up that part.
Craig’s lip trembles. “Women don’t like me. I’m a nice guy and they hate that. Do you think I’ll be able to find someone?”
“There are lots of women out there that are dying to have a guy who’s ready to have a family,” I soothe. I don’t point out that nice guys don’t kidnap pregnant ladies. I also don’t point out that most women are probably scared away by the crazy he’s throwing off, because I want him to go along with my plan. If I can get him to return me on his own, it’s better for everyone.
I’d really, really hate to end up buried in his backyard.
“Do…do you think that would work? Really?”
“I can’t speak for other women, but I do know there are lots of ladies with the dating agency who want to settle down and aren’t finding the right mate. Why couldn’t that be you?” Provided he doesn’t get nailed to the wall for drugging and stealing me, of course. I’m torn between wanting terrible things done to him and feeling pity for him. It’s clear to me that he’s just…well, he’s an idiot. A clingy, clingy idiot that got super desperate.
But I can’t feel too bad for him, because on what planet is drugging a chick okay?
“Women don’t like nice guys.” He gives me a sad look and I barely manage to bite back my snort of derision. “Are you absolutely sure you’re in love with the other guy? The wolf?”
“Positive.” If I had any hesitation before, this scare - and the realization that I’ve been wasting time when I could have been with Connor has made me shed any doubts. We might butt heads now and then, but I love Connor. He’s perfection, patient, kind, sexy, loving…no other man comes close.
Craig nods slowly. “Then…will you help me fix this?”
“I will. Let’s start by going back to the picnic, shall we?”
SAVANNAH
Some of the cars are missing out of the parking lot when we drive slowly back, which isn’t a good sign. That means the search party is well under way, which doesn’t bode well for Craig. A lot of this plan was hinging on my quiet return before people got too worked up - scratch that.
We get out of Craig’s car, parked in the road. I wrap the blanket he gave me around my body as a toga and tiptoe down the gravel path back toward the house. I’m relieved to see the pack’s trucks are still here - that means my Connor hasn’t left.
They haven’t let him leave. Poor Connor. He must be beside hi
mself with frustration after noticing I’m gone.
“Is this going to be bad?” Craig asks me, tensing at my side.
“It might be, but it’ll be worse if you run again,” I tell him. And I keep walking forward, because if he tries to steal me again, I’m going to scream bloody murder — and this time I won’t ask for everyone to be lenient on his stupidity.
But he only sighs and continues to walk a few steps behind me.
I step into the house and there’s no one inside. It isn’t until we cut through the living room, the kitchen, and head toward the backyard that I start to hear the murmur of voices. I hear someone on a phone, giving my description. Nearby, Bathsheba is murmuring to Beau that I’ll be fine.
And then my ears prick as I hear a familiar voice.
“It’s gonna be okay, Connor,” Gracie says. “She’s a smart cookie. She’ll be fine.”
Connor’s response is a snarl that’s rage mixed with worry and fear. Oh, Connor. My heart squeezes and I’m filled with love for him.
I stumble forward, half-running, and push my way through the back door. It slams behind me as I hurry down the steps onto the deck, and I don’t even know if Craig is following me. I don’t care, either. My mate needs me and I need him.
Connor’s there, seated on one of the wooden benches, his head in his hands. The shirt he’s wearing is torn. His entire body shakes, and for a moment, I think he’s trembling. Then, I realize that Gracie and Tony have their arms around him, not to comfort, but to hold him down.
It’s not trembling; it’s rage - he’s fighting for control.
Heads jerk up as the screen door slams. A few people gasp as I come charging forward, half-naked, wrapped in a blanket. Connor gets to his feet, a wild look in his eyes. His hair is disheveled - as if he’s been running a hand through it non-stop and there are hollows under his eyes. He looks as if he’s aged ten years in an afternoon. My poor Connor.
“Savannah!” Austin says.
“You’re back,” Beau murmurs.
“I brought her back,” Craig tells everyone. “Can…can we talk?”
I ignore all of them. My arms go wide and I fling myself in Connor’s arms, the blanket falling from my body as I surge forward. Connor makes an inhuman noise in his throat and then he’s holding me against him, his face buried in the crook of my shoulder.
And he holds me so tight that everything’s all right again.
We remain locked together, bodies twined, and I stroke Connor’s hair as he holds on to me and the shaking in his body slowly ceases. “I’m here,” I whisper to him. “I’m back. It’s all right.”
“You…” his voice is gruff, and his face hasn’t moved from my neck. “You’re well? He didn’t hurt you?”
“I’m fine,” I assure him, unable to stop touching his skin, his face, his hair. “Me and the babies are fine.”
“I’m going to kill him,” he growls against my skin. “Kill him for touching what’s mine.” His arms tighten around me.
“You’re not,” I say softly. “You’re going to let the Alliance deal with him. And you’re going to take me home and mate-mark me and hold me in your arms all night long.”
He stiffens, and then his head raises. His gaze locks with mine, and I see the question there. Is this truly what I want?
Oh boy, is it ever.
“Take me home,” I say softly. “Make me your mate.”
“God, you two get a room,” Gracie butts in. “Fuckin’ hell. Some of us are trying to eat.”
“Shaddup, Gracie,” Connor says. His gaze never leaves mine. He leans in and kisses my mouth gently. “Do you need to rest, baby?”
I shake my head. “I need you to take me home is what I need.”
“You might need some pants,” Tony calls out. “I’m just saying.”
Gracie giggles.
Connor ignores them. He pulls his shirt off, muscles flexing, and then tugs it over my head so I have something to wear. Then, he swings me up into his arms and holds me against him like I weigh nothing. I put my arms around his neck, suddenly exhausted with all the excitement of the day. I just want to go home and be claimed by my mate, so no one can ever try to pull us apart again.
Before he can take me away, my cousin Beau steps forward. “We’re calling everyone back. You sure you’re all right, Savannah?”
I nod and snuggle closer to Connor. “I’m fine, I promise. Craig never wanted to hurt me.”
Connor growls low in his throat, and Beau’s face gets hard. “We’ll let the council determine that. For now, I’m calling the others back. We’re going to need someone to go out and lend a hand with the Primordials.”
Gracie gets to her feet. “I volunteer as tribute.”
“Har de har, Katniss,” Tony quips behind her.
Connor glances over at his wolves. “Tony, you and Gracie help with whatever the Russells need. Call me if you can’t handle it, but I’m getting Savannah out of here.” At Tony’s solemn nod, Connor gives Beau a challenging look, as if daring him. “I’m taking my mate home.”
Beau glances at me, then back at Connor. “You have my number if there’s a problem.”
“There won’t be,” I tell him, and just hold on tighter to Connor. “I’m exactly where I need to be.”
Chapter 24
CONNOR
It doesn’t matter that Savannah’s safe in the car next to me, and that my hand’s on her knee in a tight, possessive hold. All I can see is her dress, discarded in the dirt. The look of sheepish apology on the fuckface that took her.
Savannah, nearly gone.
I stare out over the dashboard, driving fast. I want to get her home. I want to lock the doors and tuck her into the bedroom where I can lord over her and make sure that no one ever touches a fucking hair on her head ever again. I want to —
Her hand covers mine on her knee. “It’s okay, Connor.”
“It’s not okay,” I grit out. “He thought he could take you—“
“He’s an idiot,” she agrees, and to my surprise there’s a hint of laughter in her voice. “Once he moved forward with his great master plan, he realized he had no clue of what to do. I’m glad he’s an idiot, because idiots can be dealt with. It’s when they don’t realize they’re stupid that there’s a problem.” The smile she gives me is sweet. “And really, it’s kind of poetic.”
Poetic? The fuck? “How is that?”
“Because your pack kidnapping me all those months ago brought us together.” Her smile is sweet and she takes my hand from her knee and places it on her belly, where one of the babies kicks. “And Craig kidnapping me made me realize how much I love and need you, and how badly I want to be your mate.”
Fierce joy surges through me. Does she know how long I’ve waited to hear her say that? To claim her as mine? She wants me to mark her throat and take her as my own, and the thought fills me with unholy amounts of pleasure. And when I look over and see her eyes glowing, I realize she’s just as happy as I am at the thought of her being my mate.
Was any man ever so lucky?
The drive back to the house seems to last an eternity. I can’t stop touching her, my hand on her bare knee, occasionally brushing over her stomach, or even just holding her hand. I need to touch her. I crave it. Maybe that will fade in time, but for now? Right now I need to know she’s here with me, at hand. I’m not going to relax until I’ve marked her pretty throat and my cock’s deep inside her, claiming her. But then we pull into the driveway and I can park the damn car. I turn it off and immediately jump out to get her door for her.
She watches me with happy, glowing eyes, and lifts her arms as she stands.
As if she needs to ask? I pick her up and carry her onto the porch. We fumble with the keys, and eventually Savannah unlocks the door, and then I push inside, kicking it shut again. I’m not letting go of my mate.
Not now, not ever.
“Should you put me down to go upstairs?” she asks as we enter the living room. Her fingers play with my nap
e, and there’s a dreamy, soft look on her face as she gazes up at me.
“Nope.” I carry her up the stairs with ease, then move into the bedroom. It feels like it’s been years since I was just here with her, and I resist the urge to crush her against my chest again. “I’m not going to be able to function until you’re marked as mine,” I tell her, hating that the alpha is creeping up. I’m worried she won’t react well, but I need to tell her how I feel. “If you’re mated to me, no one will dare lay a fucking paw on you. And I can’t go through something like this afternoon ever again.”
But she only nods and lifts her chin, exposing her neck. She taps her skin. “Then do it. Take me as yours.”
Lust barrels through me, hot and insistent. It takes everything I have not to fling her down on the bed and cover her in that moment, but she’s my mate and she’s pregnant. I set her down with the gentlest of care, and then push her back onto the bed.
She stretches her arms over her head, the borrowed shirt exposing the peep of dark hair between her thighs, and when she exposes her neck again? I’m lost.
So fucking lost.
My mouth is on her skin and then I’m kissing her, my teeth scraping over her skin. Her scent is in my nose, her arousal perfuming the air and it’s fucking beautiful. She arches her neck again, her fingers going to my hair and holding me against her. She wants me to do it. Needs it.
It’s the moment I’ve been waiting for forever. The moment I met Savannah, this was what I wanted: her neck under my mouth, my teeth against her throat, claiming her as my own. That she’s mine and no one else’s.
It’s me and her, together. Forever.
When I bite down to give her the mark, she gasps and clings to me, the sound orgasmic with pleasure. “Yes,” she breathes, and I nearly come at the little sound. My hand goes between her legs, seeking out her heat, and she’s soaked with need. I growl low in my throat, unable to help myself as I mark her throat again. My fingers slide through her wet folds, seeking her core, and I push one deep even as I angle my thumb and begin to rub against her clit. I want her to come for me - hard, fast, and violent. I want to see her need, want to feel her clench around my hand.
