Fated Mates: The Alpha Shifter Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle) (Insatiable Reads)

by Hunter, Adriana

  Ginger walked downstairs with Marigold. “By the way, I made all that up about the jeans,” she told Marigold as Marigold stepped out on to the front porch. “And you look hot in that dress. Ay, caramba! Oops, he’s already getting out of his car, you don’t have time to change.”

  “What?” Marigold’s eyes went wide with shock. “You conniving bitch!”

  “You’ve known me for 8 years, and you’re just now figuring that out? Heh heh.” Ginger cackled an evil laugh and ran back inside the boarding house, leaving Marigold alone as Henry walked up the flagstone path to the porch.

  A rustling in the hallway behind her made her start, and she turned.

  Winifred was standing there, looking perturbed. As usual, she had her hair pinned up in the pencil-bun. “I was wondering…” she said, wringing her slim hands. “That new person employed by Miss Imogen to assist her with the daily tasks at this domicile…”

  “The hot handyman? What about him?”

  “Are you aware of whether he has any, er, involvement or marital commitment with a member of the opposite sex? Or the same sex?” At Ginger’s startled look, she blushed and muttered “I’m asking for purely academic reasons.”

  “I don’t know. You should ask him. But try to say it in normal-speak, or he won’t understand you. Just say, by the way, do you have a girlfriend? And if he says no, ask him if he’d like to buy you a drink at the Hoot Owl.”

  “Really?” Winifred’s eyes widened at the thought.

  “Absolutely. It’s the 21st century. Sisters are doing it for themselves.” As Winifred opened her mouth to demand an explanation, she held up her hand. “That’s an expression! It means, it’s okay for a girl to ask a guy to ask her out on a date.”

  “Interesting. Very interesting.”

  “Hold on.” Ginger reached out and grabbed the pencils out of Winifred’s hair bun, and handed the pencils to her as her golden locks tumbled down over her shoulders.

  “Never do the pencil thing again,” Ginger told her. “Especially when you’re talking to the handyman.” She reached out and unbuttoned the top four buttons of Winifred’s oxford shirt. “Okay, now you’re good.”

  Winifred nodded, stuffing the pencils into her shirt pocket. “Thank you. This has been a most illuminating conversation.” She wandered back into the house with a thoughtful look on her face.

  Loch pulled up a few minutes later, sexy as sin in jeans and a white t-shirt. Ginger still wore her floral pink skirt and scoop neck shirt.

  “Should I have changed?” she asked nervously, as they drove.

  “You look beautiful.”

  Her heart leapt in her throat. Her palms were damp with sweat and she struggled to control her breathing. Right now she was both terrified and fascinated by the sheriff, and so turned on that she wanted to tear her clothes off and crawl on top of him.

  Down, girl, she told herself.

  “Where exactly is this punishment taking place?” They were driving out of town, down a dark country road with no illumination but the glow of the moon and the car’s headlights.

  “Now, why would I tell you and spoil all of my fun? Besides, the anticipation’s part of your punishment.”

  “You’re kind of a sadist, you know that?” she grumbled.

  “Is that right? Think about that before you smart-mouth someone, next time.” He was grinning hugely, enjoying himself way too much.

  He took her down a small country road and into a wooded cove, to a non-descript warehouse style building. There were several dozen cars in the dimly lit parking lot.

  “What is this place?” she asked him as they climbed out.

  “It’s a private, member’s only club. I wanted to bring you here for a couple of reasons. I know you tend to bristle at authority sometimes, that you think I’m too dominant and overbearing.”

  “Sometimes,” she muttered, blushing.

  “I wanted to show you that being dominant isn’t all bad. It has its place, and its purpose. It can be very…pleasurable under the right circumstances.”

  She stared up at him. Did he mean what she thought he meant? Was it…that kind of club?

  Her heart was beating a million miles a minute, and she felt moisture soaking her panties. She didn’t bother to fold her arms over her nipples, which were swollen and straining against the fabric of her t-shirt, two sensitive pink nubs that yearned for Loch’s mouth to suck on them.

  “I…” she was speechless.

  “But if you don’t want to go in, that’s all right too. I would only want you to go in if you feel comfortable doing it.”

  She swallowed hard.

  “Will you be with me the whole time?” she asked, her heart hammering against her rib cage.

  “Of course. Every second. I wouldn’t leave you.”

  “I want to go in,” she breathed.

  “You’ll need a safe word. Your safe word will be Florida. If you say that, I will stop what I’m doing immediately. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  She followed him through the doorway, in a daze.

  They walked down a long hallway, and inside, they stepped into a very large open room.

  A room that was a dominant’s heaven. And a submissive’s too, for that matter.

  There were padded benches and pommel horses and restraint stations of all type set up around the room. Chains dangled from the ceiling. On the walls were racks holding floggers and paddles and ball gags. The lighting was low and red-tinged. Music drifted from hidden speakers, an ominous instrumental soundtrack that Ginger didn’t recognize.

  Muscular men in leather were enthusiastically punishing women who were tied down in various positions…and the women were moaning with pleasure.

  The sheriff glanced over at her. “You okay with this?”

  “I…yes. I mean, I’ve never done anything like this, but…yes.”

  Her voice was husky with desire. She was surprised with how okay with it she was. More than okay. The idea of Loch tying her to one of those frameworks and caressing her with the leather tendrils of a flogger…she let out a small involuntary whimper of desire as she pictured it.

  “I’m glad I’m your first.” His eyes twinkled as he looked down at her.

  “Me too. I trust you. I couldn’t do this with anyone else,” she told him, looking around the room.

  She suddenly realized that she recognized someone…Jax. He was stripped to the waist, revealing magnificent muscles. His partner was a beautiful redhead, naked except for a tiny g-string and a pair of spike heels. Her hands were tied together and stretched above her head, as she dangled from an overhead chain. Jax was standing back, flicking at her back with a rawhide whip that left red stripes criss-crossing her back.

  With every strike of the whip, she let out an orgasmic cry.

  Loch skimmed his fingers lightly over Ginger’s back, and she shivered and bit her lip, her breath quickening. “This way,” he said.

  He led her over to a wooden frame that had metal rings fixed to it at strategic places, with ropes dangling from them, and he positioned her by two of the metal rings.

  Then, he tied each wrist to a rope and adjusted them until her arms were stretched over her head. She was facing the wall, with no idea of what he’d do next. The anticipation made her shiver. She wanted his hands on her so badly, wanted to feel his muscular body crushing her up against him…

  He grabbed the waistband of her skirt and pulled it down until it lay on the floor, puddled around her ankles. She was wearing pink lacy hipster underwear that exposed most of her generously sized rear end.

  He ran his fingers slowly over the skin of her right butt cheek, fingers lovingly tracing the ivory globe. Trails of pleasure sizzled in the path of his fingers, shooting through all the nerves in her body, down to her fingertips and toes. Her pussy throbbed with need. She bit back a moan and squirmed where she stood.

  “Remember your safe word?”

  “Yes. It’s Florida.”

  “You’re going to c
ount out loud for each stroke,” he told her. She glanced back and realized that he was holding a paddle in his hand, and she tensed in anticipation. “If you don’t count, then the stroke doesn’t count. Got it?” His voice cracked through the air, stern and authoritative.

  “Yes,” she whimpered.

  Please. Do it, she thought.

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Suddenly she felt a sharp thwack on her right butt cheek, and felt mingled pleasure and pain sizzling through her body.

  “One!” she cried out quickly.

  “Louder. You get nine more strokes,” he said. He swung the paddle again, and she cried out, letting out a moan. “Two,” she cried out. He moved to a different spot and smacked the paddle onto her butt check. “Three,” she yelled, dancing in place.

  Again, and she could feel the hot blossom of pain blooming where he’d struck, but it felt so right.

  “Four!”

  “Still not loud enough, Ginger.”

  He moved the paddle again, and she gasped out loud as it struck her sensitive flesh, and glowing embers of pleasure bloomed inside her. “Five!”she yelled at the top of her lungs.

  “Ahh, that’s much better. You’re learning,” he said.

  “Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!” she called out, loudly.

  “Very good, Ginger,” he said in a voice grown husky with desire, and then traced his fingers over the spot he’d just struck.

  He knelt down behind her and ran his tongue along her stinging flesh. “Mmmmm,” she moaned, not even trying to hide her pleasure any more as he caressed her heated skin with swirling strokes of his tongue.

  Then he stood up again, and resumed paddling her. Each strike sent lightning bolt of pleasure jolting through her body. She whimpered in pleasure, a ball of heat curling up in her abdomen.

  “Five!” She clenched her teeth. When the paddle made contact with her bottom, the pleasure shot through her entire body, and she could feel heat pooling in her abdomen, below her navel. Her nerves were alive, crackling with desire, craving the sting of the paddle.

  He was going to make her come. Right here, in front of everyone.

  There were a crowd of men and women watching now, and she was breathing hard, gasping with pleasure.

  Oddly she wasn’t self-conscious. Maybe it was the way the men looked at her here, as if she were incredibly sexy and they were turned on just by looking at her.

  Several more paddle strokes and she couldn’t help herself. The final paddle stroke sent her over the edge. “Ten!” she screamed, and she felt the ball of heat explode inside her, shooting sparks throughout her body, and wave after wave of orgasm swept through her. She whimpered and shuddered as she dangled helplessly from the ropes. “Oh, oh, oh,” she gasped. Her panties were absolutely soaked.

  When Loch untied her, she moaned with release and slumped into his arms. He held her up easily, his muscular arms wrapping around her, and she breathed in his scent, desire already rising inside her again. More. She craved more. She pressed herself against him, loving the feeling of his steel-hard muscles, the tightening of his arms.

  What would he do to her next? The flogger? Nipple clamps? There were so many parts of her body that he hadn’t punished yet.

  “Put your skirt on,” he commanded in a low growl. She bent down and quickly pulled her skirt back up. Her backside pulsed from the swatting she’d just received; she felt as if her skin were glowing red right through the cloth.

  Suddenly she found him moving her quickly towards the door.

  “Hey, Loch, can I play with her now?” A leather-clad wolf shifter stepped up eagerly, blocking their path.

  Loch replied with a growl that raised the hair on the back of Ginger’s neck, and the shifter leaped back, alarmed. Loch rushed her through the front door and into the parking lot.

  She stood there in the warm, humid, night air, bewildered and shaken.

  “What…what’s wrong?” she stammered.

  “Give me a minute.” Loch staggered back several steps. He was breathing hard, his eyes were glowing amber, his ears had started to lengthen and turn pointy. She could see him struggling to regain control of himself.

  “What is it?” she pleaded. “Was it something I did wrong?”

  A man walked up to them and looked Ginger up and down. “Nice, Loch. Would your new playmate like a threesome?”

  Suddenly Loch shifted into wolf form and leaped through the air, knocking the man down and snarling and snapping at his throat. The man shifted into wolf form as well, crying out and waving his paws in the air.

  Instead of backing off, Loch stayed where he was, his jaws snapping inches from the man’s throat, and the man cringed, howling in fear.

  My God, he’s going to kill him, Ginger thought.

  “Loch, stop!” she screamed.

  Loch shifted back into human form, breathing hard.

  “I’m sorry,” he groaned. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  He rushed her into the car, panting for breath and shaking.

  They rode in silence back to the boarding house. The whole way there, she could see him shifting between wolf and human, struggling with the wheel. The car jerked on the road and she clutched at the door in alarm, pressing herself back against the seat.

  When they got to the boarding house he let her out with a tortured groan.

  “It was a mistake,” he growled, burying his face in his hands, which were covered with fur, thick black claws curving out. “Bringing you there. It was a mistake.”

  Chapter Eight

  Ginger lay in bed, stripped naked, burning with desire and head whirling in confusion.

  Did the sheriff have feelings for her?

  Apparently not. Apparently he regretted his very public scene with her.

  Damn it…she wanted him so badly she couldn’t even think straight. Her brain was fogged with desire.

  She gripped the rubbery shaft of her vibrator, closed her eyes, and, shamefully, pictured the sheriff in her mind. It hurt to want someone who didn’t want her.

  She imagined herself naked, lying on this bed. Tied down, arms and legs secured to posts. He’d be on top her, straddling her…

  She pressed the vibrator against her tiny, tight opening and worked it in, moaning wordlessly as she slid it in and out. Picturing his thickness, she felt heat gather inside her again and then sweep over her, pulsing to the ends of her fingers and toes. It wasn’t the same, though; her orgasm felt dull and muted, and left her aching for the feeling of Loch’s arms crushing her against the broad wall of his chest.

  That night she tossed and turned for hours, tormented by vague dreams she couldn’t remember.

  The next morning, apparently everybody was out of sorts. Marigold looked tired and sulky. Brenda and Tallulah sat glaring at each other. The professor didn’t even bother to show up.

  And even Winifred was unusually quiet, although Ginger caught her staring out the window at the handyman, who was outside repairing a fence. At least she wasn’t doing the pencil thing any more, and she’d unbuttoned her shirt a couple more buttons, so she was actually showing a wee bit of cleavage.

  Halfway through breakfast, Brenda threw down her napkin and stood up. “I’m going to go get the professor,” she announced. “He never sleeps in like this. Maybe his alarm clock is broken.”

  “No, I’ll go!” Tallulah jumped up.

  The two stood there, glowering at each other.

  “Oh, for God’s sake! I’ll go, because I assure you, I have no interest in the professor whatsoever.” Ginger snapped, and turned and headed up the stairs, with Brenda and Tallulah on her heels.

  She knocked hard on the professor’s door. There was no answer.

  “Professor! Hey, professor!” she yelled.

  Still no answer.

  She reached down, turned the knob and pushed the door open. She could see the professor’s bed from where she stood. The handmade quilt was tucked in, the bed was neatly made, and the
professor was nowhere in sight.

  “Oh my God. He never came home last night!” Tallulah gasped.

  “He was at dinner. What are you talking about?” Brenda protested.

  “No, last night after dinner I was in the back yard when I saw him headed out. I asked him where he was going and he said he forgot something at the dig, and he’d be back later. Something must have happened to him!”

  Ginger felt uneasiness roiling in her stomach. After yesterday afternoon’s confrontation, and with the heated emotions that had been stirred up, she wouldn’t be surprised to hear that he’d come to harm. Maybe the panther shifters had come back to check the site for stolen artifacts, and he’d surprised them?

  She glanced at her watch, and was surprised to see that it was quarter after 8. The sheriff had picked her up promptly at 8 a.m. the day before.

  And he hadn’t called. That didn’t seem like him at all.

  She felt an iciness creeping over her. Apparently, this was it. He’d briefly flirted with the idea of seducing her…and he’d found the idea unappealing.

  Last night, she’d sort of let herself hope that his violent reaction at the club was jealousy. Obviously it wasn’t. Maybe it was embarrassment.

  Her cheeks burned with humiliation at the thought, and she hung her head, blinking back sudden tears and turning away from Tallulah and Brenda.

  Apparently not everyone in Blue Moon County was attracted to fat chicks, she thought bitterly.

  Brenda put her hand on her arm. “You were in love with him, too, huh?” she said sympathetically.

  “The professor? No! Absolutely not,” Ginger spluttered. Her head was whirling. She could have called the sheriff to see why he hadn’t come for her – he’d given her his cell phone number – but stubborn pride kept her from doing so.

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It did nothing to diminish the dull ache that throbbed inside her chest.

  Focus, she scolded herself. We’ve got a possible missing person here.

  “Can one of you try to call the professor?” she said, and Tallulah and Brenda both whipped out their cell phones and dialed at the same time. Ginger rolled her eyes. Everything had to be a competition with those two.