by Hattie Hunt
Mason ignored her. “First question: If you could do anything in the world, right now, what would you do?”
“That has nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to do with it. If you could do anything with your life, what would it be?”
Emma groaned. “I don’t know.”
“You do.”
Why was this so hard? “It is going to sound stupid.”
“Don’t care.”
“Dammit Mason.”
“You started this.”
She pulled the cushion out from behind her back and chucked it at Mason. “I know.”
“Gah! Okay. I would…join the Peace Corps.” She buried her face in her hands.
Mason stopped rubbing her feet, letting his hands just rest on top of her shins. He shook his head. “Why is that stupid?”
“Well, isn’t it just so, well, cliché?”
“Helping people is cliché.” His voice was deadpan.
“Well, when you say it like that.”
“Details. Okay. So why didn’t you join the Peace Corps?”
Emma’s head pulsed, and Mal lifted his head warningly. She was getting frazzled. She needed to breathe. They were only having a discussion, a conversation. This was Mason. She could talk to Mason. I’m fine, Mal. “Because Cheryl wouldn’t let me.” She cringed. “Though, I never actually asked her.”
“You can’t join until you are eighteen. At eighteen you are an adult. So why didn’t you go then?”
“You sure you are a teacher and not a therapist?”
“They are almost the same thing, if you get into details.” He resumed the rubbing of her feet. She couldn’t lean back any more since she had thrown the pillow at him, so she pulled her feet away and flipped around so her head was where her feet had been. She felt Mason tense, but soon enough he started running his hands through her hair. She shivered at his touch.
“Because I had a duty to the clan.” That was the easiest way to put it. “Not just to Cheryl.”
“The clan is your family.”
“Yes.”
“But now, what is stopping you? Isn’t Cheryl out of the picture?” His hands moved around to the base of her neck, pressing up into the tension along the top of her backbone. Where had he learned to do that? She had had worse massages for the cost of a limb. Mal purred.
“Now, I am alpha.”
“And what does that mean.”
Emma had closed her eyes, and she opened them to look up at him. He was hunched over her, leaning forward to get better leverage for his hands. So, when she looked up, her eyes found his lips before the green of his eyes. She suddenly didn’t want to talk about being alpha anymore… but she made herself lock his gaze.
“It means, even with Cheryl gone, I am really no freer than I was before.” Then, almost to try and prove to herself otherwise, she reached up and pulled Mason’s mouth down to hers.
His body reacted immediately, like he hadn’t stopped being ready since their moment in the kitchen before dinner caught fire. There was a confidence about him in the way he touched her, caressed her body, tasted her lips. She hadn’t expected it from the intermittently snarky, hot nerd that had walked into her bakery what felt like ages ago.
He pulled back from the kiss, tracing his hands along her shoulders and across her collarbone until fingers disappeared under the neck of her tank. She hadn’t put her bra back on after they shifted for dinner. She had only put the shirt on as a formality, since he was such a damn prude about being naked.
She knew that her nipples were pushing out against the fabric, and as his fingers ran over them, a tingling sensation flashed through her entire body. She reached up, running her hands down his arms and then pulling him forward until he took the hint.
He shifted sideways for a better angle and then devoured her breast with his mouth. Teeth pulled at her nipples, switching back and forth between them as his hand tickled her ribs and then her stomach. The skin along the edge of her pants. She sucked in a breath, creating a gap between the waist band and her stomach, and his hand slipped in. The pants tightened around him as she breathed out, but his fingers had found their target, skillfully running the length of her in confinement.
Her breath caught as he bit a little too hard on her nipple and at the same time pulled his finger back over her sweet spot. Pleasure exploded through her entire body. Her back arched of its own volition. Fingers scraped against the fabric of the couch cushions, desperate for purchase, any way to keep her body from taking flight.
When she couldn’t take anymore, her hand shot to his, forcing him to stay his movements. Which he did, mostly. Once she released, he ran one finger quickly across her, and her heart near exploded. He did that twice more before she physically pulled his hand out of her pants.
He looked down at her, green eyes glowing with heat and need. He kissed her again, their faces perpendicular to each other. She tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth and then pulled her face to the side. She rolled over, so she was on her hands and knees and pushed his shoulders back until he rested against the arm of the couch. As his legs unfolded, she straddled him between his knees and waist, crossing her arms to pull her shirt over her head.
His eyes forgot where her face was, and the corner of her mouth quirked up. She leaned forward to unbutton his pants, which had tightened impressively. That drew his attention. He reached up to pull her shirt off and then unsnapped his own pants button, which Emma was still struggling with. She traded him and pulled off her own pants. She hated the getting undressed part. It wouldn’t be an issue if they were already naked. But it didn’t matter. Her hands found his penis, hard and erect. As soon as she touched him, he groaned a long release, different tones accentuated with each stroking movement. She wasn’t oblivious to the effect her body had on men.
Crawling forward, Emma lowered her hips to Mason until he was against her. She pulled herself forward over him to wet his shaft with her own excitement. Then she lowered herself onto him, his manhood filling her tightly and in perfect tension. Rocking slowly back and forth, she stretched forward until her lips found his. She pecked a quick kiss and then licked her lips. She ran her tongue once over his and then bit down on his lower lip. Not too hard, she didn’t want to draw blood, but she needed him to know she was there. As if there could have been any question.
He thrust into her, timing his movements to hers so they moved as one, each up meeting her down, forcing himself deeper into her. She walked her hands up his chest until she was sitting erect on top of him, riding his thrusts like a cowgirl. His hands ran up and down her thighs, pulling her hips down. She wished she had thought to drag him to the bedroom, frustrated by the constraints of the couch, but unwilling to separate herself from him.
Emma arched back, her climax teetering on the edge as he moved inside her, each thrust tickling that spot so deep in her it might as well be mythical. Shit, he was amazing. She let out a moan of pleasure, broken by the catches of her breath each time he hit that spot. Seriously. She looked down to him, expecting to see his eyes closed, but finding his gaze set sharply on hers, a smile on his lips. He knew what he was doing to her.
She needed off the damn couch. “Floor. Gods, Mason. Take me on the fucking floor.”
She didn’t have to ask twice.
Without losing a beat, he spun with her on top of him until his feet were off the edge of the couch. She straddled his lap and his erection somehow pressed even deeper into her. Her subsequent moan rose in pitch to a squeal of ecstasy. This shit shouldn’t be legal. But he didn’t keep her there. Wrapping one arm around her neck, he pulled her mouth to his, invading her with his tongue, sweet and strong and intoxicating. He pulled on her lip with is teeth, and she didn’t even try to hold back the sounds of pleasure as sensation rippled through her, and she thought she might come right there, floor or no.
He teased her, reading her body language like a master artisan. He pulled back just in time, and she vocalized her frustr
ation, nipping at his ear as he lowered her to the ground. Then he was on top of her, his erection sliding back into her with enough force to moved her several inches on the floor. The carpet burned on her back, and it only added to the pleasure. Now, his eyes were closed, lips parted in excitement, brows furrowed as he tried to hold back his own release. He was ready. And she was almost there.
She pulled her legs back with her hands, knees drawn almost to her chest as he rammed his erection into her. Deeper and deeper, the friction of their coupling pleasuring her clit simultaneously. Pressure built in her head as she held her breath, the ache of held back release bordering nuclear. He thrust again and shuddered, and she felt his release inside of her, hot and full and perfect and—gods she was coming too. Her back arched up, her body’s natural bucking restrained by her grip on her legs, intensifying the orgasm to a level she couldn’t contain. She cried out as he continued to thrust, until she had nothing left.
She released her legs, sprawling out on the floor beneath him, and he dropped down on top of her, peppering her with kisses before he rolled off to the side. They lay next to each other, breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling.
“That was…” She couldn’t even voice what that was. “Gods.”
“Mmm.” Mason turned onto his side, pulling Emma in to him. They wound their legs together, and he traced a finger up and down her shoulder. “You’re incredible, Emma.”
She smiled. “You aren’t so bad yourself.”
25
They did, eventually, make it to the bedroom. After Mason insisted they run back to town for a burger. Now, his soft snores punctuated the stillness of the night.
Emma stared at the ceiling. They had stayed up almost to midnight, talking, kissing, touching. Part of her wanted to roll her eyes at the juvenile nature of it all, but the other part sent her heart reeling faster at the memory of his lips on her neck, his hands on her skin. The way laying against him was kind of like snuggling with a furry… bear.
She rolled onto her side, so she could look at him. They were, mercifully, naked. He looked strange without his glasses, though not any less attractive. And even with his eyes closed, she could still picture the green of his eyes that was just—she didn’t know what it was. But they turned her on.
He choked on a snore and sputtered a breath. Emma sucked in a laugh, not wanting to wake him. Mason would do that on his own if he kept it up. As it was, he rolled over onto his back, hand patting the bed until he found Emma’s arm. He let out a contented hum, smacked his lips, and started snoring again.
She had never slept with a man who snored before. If someone had asked her, she would have sworn up and down it would drive her crazy. With Mason, it was more… comforting. Which was weird. Emma sighed and rolled back over. Mason stirred as her arm pulled away from his touch, and she snaked her own hand back as she settled, letting her fingers fall on top of his.
What she had said to him earlier kept echoing around her mind: I can’t decide if I have made the right decision about my life. That was what kept her awake, not Mason’s snoring. Emma had surprised herself with the admission. Now, it wouldn’t leave her alone. How could she know if she had made the right decision? It hadn’t even been a week since all this had started. Since she had become alpha. How was it something she had been planning for ages didn’t seem real once it had happened?
And Jordan had been right. Emma hadn’t been doing her job. She hadn’t been back to the clan house since the showdown with Cheryl. They had all been there. They saw what happened. What was there to say about it?
Maybe it wasn’t what she needed to say, but what she needed to do. She was their leader, and she had to show them that she was going to protect them and manage the clan affairs and keep them safe and…whatever else needed to be done. If she didn’t, she would be the one challenged out.
Somehow, the idea didn’t put her as on edge as it should have. If a clan loved their alpha, they could thrive for generations. If discord wasn’t handled, a clan could go through challenge after challenge, drawing lines between family and friends, creating enemies. If things got bad enough, people might split off and start their own clans. Which could lead to clan wars.
Emma rolled her eyes. It sounded like a damn movie. In fact, she was pretty sure movies had been made about just that.
Still, in real life, there were real consequences. Emma thought she could deal with some shit, but for some reason, she couldn’t wrap her head around being alpha. The thing was, she knew she wouldn’t be alone either. She had her brothers—well, Brett, since Joe had been kicked out—and Jordan. They would do everything they could to help her not make a complete fool of herself.
Something told her she was already doing that. She rolled her head to the side. She also had Mason. A freaking porcupine. Emma didn’t even want to think about the number of relatives who had rolled over in their graves when she had sex with him for the first time… A porcupine. And a grizzly bear.
Her brother was in love with a padfoot, and she still almost laughed out loud at the idea. At least Mason wasn’t a house cat. Emma sighed and closed her eyes. They were finally starting to feel heavy, and she was glad she didn’t have to get up early. Her only obligation was to spend the afternoon at Troutdale Springs. Two residents had birthdays, and even though she had already made a special treat for Susan, she would do it again tomorrow. Because that was what Emma did. She volunteered. Brightened peoples’ days. Helped people in need. Of all the decisions in her life, she knew that one, at least, was the right one.
* * *
The ringer blasted in Emma’s ear and she shot up, lightheaded in her sleep haze. Who in the—?
She pawed at the side table for the phone, her coordination sluggish.
Mason shifted beside her.
Dammit. Her finger found the green answer button and she pressed it before she picked the phone up, just to get it to shut up. Then she swung her legs over the side of the bed and lifted the phone to her ear. “‘lo?” Her voice cracked, thick with sleep.
“Emma, it’s Chuck.”
Her senses snapped back into place like a rubber band. “Hey, Chuck. What’s going on?”
Mason’s hand slid down her back in question.
Great. He was awake.
“Sorry to wake you. Zander was just brought into the station. The Sisterhood is involved. We need you down here.”
Shit. “Okay. I can be there in half an hour. Can you tell me what happened?”
“It’ll be easier if you just come down here.” He hung up the phone without so much as a goodbye.
“Is everything okay?” Mason stroked the bare skin of her back.
“The kid I was telling you about got picked up.” Emma’s heart raced. “The Sisterhood’s involved. I need to get to the station.”
“Is there anything I can do?” He sat up behind her, but Emma bent over, digging around in the dark for her pants.
“No. You should go back to sleep. You have work tomorrow. And the field trip. I’ll be fine.” She found her bra and pulled it onto her shoulders. She started fiddling with the clasp in the back.
Mason stopped her hands. “Let me.”
“Thanks.” Emma shoved her phone into her back pocket and grabbed the hooded sweater off the pile of clean laundry. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“Let me know I you need anything.”
The drive to the station was fast. She stepped into the Troutdale Police Department and went directly to Tuck’s office in the back, through the maze of other desks. There weren’t a lot of police on duty at this hour, but, then again, Troutdale wasn’t exactly huge.
Tuck looked up when she walked through the door. He was silver-haired and sexy. Not that Emma really thought about him like that, but the man was attractive. “Glad you could get here so quick.”
“Why are we here and not at Red Star.” Which was the paranormal version of the police department.
“They’re… a little busy.” He shook his head
and waved her off. “Chuck’s in the back with Zander. You know the way?”
She nodded. “Is he okay?”
Tuck shrugged. “He fell off the wagon hard. That’s never good with addicts.”
The way he said that wasn’t in a judgmental kind of way. It was just acceptance.
She could respect the hell out of that man.
Chuck stood just outside one of the cells.
Emma went to stand next to him.
Inside, Zander lay on the cot, sweaty and muttering to himself. He was coming down from whatever he’d been on and it didn’t look good.
“What happened?” Chuck didn’t mince words.
“I don’t know.” And she didn’t. She could offer to help the kid, but he had to come to her. “He called me. Didn’t say much. Said he was doing okay.”
“He’s not.”
“I see that.”
“Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?”
She really hadn’t. “No.”
He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Because you didn’t see anything or because you were distracted?”
She took in a deep breath and released it, vying for patience. “Yes.”
His eyebrows rose and turned toward her. “You’re alpha now.”
She took a step back. “I know.” And she did.
“You have responsibilities, like taking care of this young man. You volunteered.”
“I know and as soon as I got the call, I tried to help him.”
Chuck quirked his lips to the side. “This type of thing happens. What I’m concerned with is the other bear clan.”
What about them? The Elliots had an alpha now, so they should be moving out.
Chuck bowed his head. “The Hatfields are looking for a way in.”
“The Hatfields?” He must have misspoken because… they didn’t really exist, did they?
Chuck gave her a dry look. “They set Zander up and with the precision they used, I’m willing to bet they had help.”
A dark dread washed over her. “Cheryl.”
“That would be my guess.”
