Milan’s arm drew her closer to him as he took his time to answer. Even if she wore her high-heeled sandals, he still towered over her, and she loved the feeling.
“The usual,” he finally answered.
“Did she cheat on you?”
“She did.” After a moment, he added, “I was about to marry her.”
“That must have hurt.”
He nodded. “She cheated on me with my cousin, who was like a brother to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s in the past,” he said, his hand caressing her arm. “What about you? Why did you call a dating agency in the first place? I mean, you are as beautiful and sexy as they come and more. I’m not complaining. I’m having the best weekend of my life out of it, but still, I wonder.”
“My last serious relationship ended badly. I fell for a manipulative bastard’s lies, and he also turned violent when I started calling him out on his bullshit.” Celeste never talked about her dark past. Pitiful looks usually followed. Sometimes even thinly-veiled accusatory questions. If Royce was as bad as she said, why had she remained with him for so long?
“Did he hurt you?” Milan asked, stopping them in the middle of the path. The silvery rays of the moon illuminated the lake and highlighted Milan’s rugged profile.
“It’s in the past,” she repeated his words from a moment earlier.
As usually happened when she talked about Royce, her fingers went to the scar on her wrist. She regretted the gesture immediately because Milan’s eyes followed her every movement. When she lowered her arm, he grabbed her hand and raised it to his face. The moment he saw the ridged mark on her skin, his gaze became heated. Only this time, it wasn’t passion that burnt in his expressive eyes but rage.
His calloused hand cupped her wrist. “I’ll come to Dallas and kill him.” His voice was low and pained.
For a moment, his visceral reaction took Celeste aback.
Besides Julia, nobody had taken her side when she split up with Royce. Even when she went to the police sporting a black eye, asking for a restraining order, the cop who took her statement persuaded her to let things go because nobody would ever believe her.
A narcissistic sadist, Royce rubbed elbows with an exalted crowd, and he had warned her not to bother going to the police. “You know I’m good friends with Dallas PD,” he had told her when she finally ran away from him, bruised and battered. Naively, she thought she would find help if she finally spoke up. She had been wrong.
Milan dipped his head and kissed her, erasing with his lips the dark thoughts lurking beneath the surface. In Milan’s arms, Celeste felt desirable and sexy, sentiments she had thought she would never experience again.
They kissed all the way to Milan’s cottage, and by the time he burst the door open with his hip, Celeste could only think of the moment he would be inside her. Nothing else mattered any longer, only here and now, and this man.
Kurosawa’s barks echoed from somewhere in the cottage. Milan shut the door with a kick and proceeded to turn Celeste around and pin her to the wall, his large body pressed against her back. His knees opened her legs wide while his hands went to work under her dress. Grabbing her panties, he shoved them to the side, his thick finger stroking her folds before entering her. She squirmed against him, eager to be filled by the hardness straining against his jeans. Her hand went behind her, her fingers unbuttoning his pants and freeing him to her touch.
“Celeste,” Milan groaned when she grabbed him in her tight hold. His free hand reached around and found her breast. “So soft,” he murmured in his low tenor that was by itself a powerful aphrodisiac. His fingers skimmed the fabric of her sundress, driving her crazy before he pinched her nipple hard.
Liquid pleasure pooled between her legs. He continued the onslaught on her senses, biting, licking, caressing her body until she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Please,” Celeste begged, arching her back and pushing her rump against him. “I need you now.”
He pried her hand away from his hardness and plunged inside her in one single shove that flattened her against the wall. His hand around her waist cushioned her body and his arm took the brunt of their frenzied lovemaking as he relentlessly drove into her. The framed pictures she had noticed in passing rattled loudly against the wall at each of Milan’s thrust. One of the frames was dislodged from its hook and fell, crashing to the floor.
Pleasure built rapidly inside Celeste, and when his fingers traveled down between her legs and started stroking her nub, she came hard, triggering Milan’s release. As if he had held off his gratification, he thrust a few more times before exploding inside her.
“Mine,” Milan said, turning her in his arms. He kissed her deeply, murmuring her name. His hands caressed her slowly, soothing her body that thrummed in time with his strong heartbeats.
Celeste’s wolf sang her mating call to the moon. She panted, trying to remain upright, but only Milan’s hold prevented her from collapsing into a heap on the floor.
He chuckled against her throat. The innocent tickle awakened her senses once again, leading her mind toward a different path. An image formed behind her heavy eyelids. Milan biting hard into her shoulder, marking her as she marked him. Forever mates.
The urge to arch her throat was hard to resist, but she managed to keep still.
“You’re a force of nature,” he said.
“What?” she asked, her voice low and dreamy even to her ears.
“I don’t think this cottage is going to survive hurricane Celeste,” he said, leaning away to regale her with a beautiful smile she would remember forever. His eyes lowered to the shards of broken glass littering the floor.
After all that had passed between them, Celeste still blushed at the sight of the broken frame.
Milan tipped her chin up with his fingers. “I don’t care if we destroy Pioneer Lodge.”
Celeste feared her heart would be the thing destroyed when all was said and done, and she was back in Texas. Leaning in, she brushed his lips, pouring into her breathless kiss all the emotions she couldn’t express.
17
Milan caressed Celeste’s curves, memorizing the feel of her, the tantalizing scent of their lovemaking, the way she looked, sleepy and sated, purring under his touch. They had eventually made it to the couch after another round of mind-blowing sex against the wall.
“What’s back in Dallas?” he asked.
Celeste tensed, her beautiful body going rigid as she retreated from him. “My life,” she said. “A job at a law firm. My best friend, Julia.” She turned, her soft breasts inviting him to play with them. When he did just that, her reaction was immediate. She stretched for him, raising her toned arms over her head. “What’s in Angel’s Pass for you?”
Milan realized that in the sexual frenzy that had swept them, they hadn’t taken the time to get to know each other. “I live in Seattle, and this is the first time in a long while that I’ve visited Angel’s Pass.”
“How come?”
“The woman who cheated on me and my cousin live here. In fact, he is the new alpha.” It was a novelty, this being able to talk about his past without feeling any pain.
Celeste languidly moved against his strokes, opening her legs for him. “Is your pack in Seattle?”
“No, it’s here.” He dipped his head to lavish her belly and thigh with sensual licks.
Making a low, throaty sound, Celeste arched her bottom to meet his tongue. “I don’t understand,” she said, in a choked whisper. “You are an alpha—”
“It’s complicated.” Milan kissed her apex before raising his head. “Danton, the previous alpha, was my father’s brother. He was also my cousin Malcolm’s uncle. Both my parents and Malcolm’s were killed by renegades. When Uncle Danton later died without heirs, he left my cousin and me competing for the title. We decided to lead the pack together—”
“That’s unusual,” Celeste commented, moving into his embrace when he opened his arms for her.
“It would’ve been truly revolutionary.”
Milan couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yes, we were full of shit then, thinking we could change the world.” A bittersweet ache filled his heart. “When I found my ex-fiancée riding Malcolm, in my bedroom, it was either rip him to pieces or move on.”
If he closed his eyes, the scene would replay for him. How many times had he drowned the memory in a bottle? Too many to count, but finally, the sordid details no longer made his stomach turn. He only felt pity for his cousin.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Celeste raised her chin to brush his mouth.
“I don’t deny I could’ve done without all the drama and heartache, but I am who I am because of that, and I’m stronger for it.” Milan had always felt that way, but at the moment, he also realized that maybe, just maybe, things truly happened for a reason.
Without adding anything else, Celeste hugged him tight, her lips trailing kisses over his eyes, nose, jaw, chin, throat. The tenderness of her gesture touched Milan. They made love again, slow and soft this time until they dozed off on the couch that was too small for the two of them.
The next morning, Milan woke with his stomach rumbling. He adjusted Celeste on the cushion, covering her with his quilt, and went to the kitchen to fix a sandwich. As he was opening the fridge, he heard a cell phone go off and followed the sound to Celeste’s purse. Forgotten on the floor at the entrance, the leather bag vibrated as the call kept ringing. Milan picked the sleek phone to silence it lest it awaken Celeste with the ruckus it was making.
By the time he grabbed the infernal device, the call from a private number went to voicemail, but Milan hadn’t been fast enough, and Celeste appeared at the mouth of the hallway. She wore the quilt around her, covering her body in a way that should’ve preserved her modesty but made him drool instead.
“I didn’t mean to pry. I only wanted to shut it off to let you sleep.” Milan walked toward her, phone in front of him.
She waved his concern away. “No worries.” Taking the phone, she took a glance at the screen. “Probably a scam.” She rose on her toes and kissed him sweetly. “Is there anything to eat?”
“I’m on it.” He took her in his arms and walked to the kitchen where he set her down on the wooden table. Discarding the notion to bury himself deep inside her yet again, he turned to the fridge and resumed his scavenger hunt. There were only enough fixings to make a sandwich for one. “We’ll have to go to town if we don’t want to starve,” he said, pointing at the almost empty shelves.
Celeste pouted. “I thought we were going to have sex nonstop for the rest of the day.”
“That was the plan, but we need to eat.” He nestled between her legs dangling from the edge of the table.
Opening the quilt, she scooted closer to him, invitingly opening her legs. He pressed against her, eliciting a long moan that satisfied his male ego more than words.
“You win,” he said, sheathing himself in her inviting warmth.
It was already afternoon when the hunger became impossible to ignore and they had to leave the cottage. Kurosawa went out to tend to his own needs and immediately ran back in to sleep before the fireplace where they had found him napping. Instead of walking, Milan insisted they take his Jeep because he wanted to be back as soon as possible to resume their sex marathon. As the hours passed, Celeste’s flight back to Dallas loomed closer and closer. Every touch, every kiss, every breath they took felt amplified. More vibrant, more intense, more pleasurable, and painful at the same time. In a few hours, the time spent at the cottage would become a memory.
“It’s Sunday afternoon,” he remembered, driving around the bend and entering the town proper. “The grocery store is closed. If we are lucky, Betty Lou will fix something for us.”
“Who’s Betty Lou?” Celeste asked, watching outside.
It hadn’t escaped his notice that she kept her eyes to the window, avoiding looking at him.
“Betty Lou is Red Elk’s owner, and although they have strict hours for lunch and dinner, she might make an exception for the pretty tourist.”
“Or maybe, she’ll make an exception for the handsome alpha,” Celeste said with a small laugh.
“Not even close.” Milan laughed. “Betty Lou is Angel’s Pass’s official grandmother. You’ll see.”
As he parked behind Red Elk, Milan saw Malcolm’s pickup circling around. As much as his anger toward his cousin had evaporated, he still didn’t look forward to another meeting with Malcolm, or Goddess forbid, with Jean. He walked to the passenger side to open Celeste’s half door, and she jumped into his arms with a joyous squeal.
He kissed her before letting her down. His stomach rumbled loud, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ve drained me dry.”
“That was the point.” She laughed too, squeezing his hand as they entered the restaurant and proceeded to the kitchen.
Betty Lou stood at the industrial stove with her back to them. Without looking behind, she said, “Is that Milan’s stinky scent I smell?” Her rich laugh echoed in the room. When she turned, a genuine smile lit her old, wrinkled face. She opened her arms. “Come here, brat. How long has it been since the last time you came to visit Betty Lou?”
“I was here yesterday,” he sheepishly said.
“I was told, and you didn’t think to call for me or move your city ass in here and greet me properly?” Betty Lou’s voice was as warm as he remembered.
It made his heart ache that he had let years go by before visiting the people who had been important to him once upon a time.
“I knew you were busy,” he said.
“Ah ah—” Betty Lou cocked her head to the side and gave him a raised eyebrow. She looked over his shoulder at Celeste and said, “It wasn’t me who was busy yesterday, I dare say.”
Milan turned sideways to include Celeste in the conversation. “Betty Lou, I’d like you to meet Celeste. Celeste, this is the famous Betty Lou I told you about.”
At his last comment, Betty Lou’s expression softened, and she turned toward Celeste, offering her embrace to her as well. To his surprise, Celeste didn’t hesitate but hugged Betty Lou as if they were longtime friends.
“So, you are the pretty Texan all the town is talking about. I can see why our Milan would come back to Angel’s Pass for you,” Betty Lou said.
Milan frowned, but before he could ask what Betty Lou meant with her comment, Celeste said, “We just met.”
“Meant to be, you mean,” Betty Lou murmured with bright eyes before changing topic. “So, I guess you didn’t come here just to say hi. Do you want me to fix something to eat?”
Milan winked. “Yes, please.”
“Go ahead and sit wherever you want. I’ll have a meal ready for you in no time.” Betty Lou pointed her finger at the door.
Milan and Celeste filed out like school children and picked the table closest to the kitchen. As he walked around the table after having helped Celeste into her seat, Milan caught the sight of the tail of a pickup truck. The color and make looked similar to Malcolm’s, but it could’ve been someone else’s.
Celeste smiled to him, and Milan forgot all about his cousin and his truck.
18
Celeste patted her belly. “Betty Lou, this was the best chicken fried steak I’ve ever had. And the gravy—” She made an appreciative sound that made the motherly cook beam proudly while Milan gave her an intense stare.
“That was as good as I remember,” Milan said, turning his gaze to Betty Lou. “I’ve missed your cooking terribly.”
“Of course you did. What do they know in Seattle about comfort food? All those damn hipsters are pescatarian, vegetarian, vegan, and whatever else.” Betty Lou’s nose crinkled in distaste.
Milan reached for his jeans pocket, but Betty Lou stopped him with an imperious wave of her hand.
“Let me pay you,” Mil
an said.
Betty Lou shook her head emphatically. “If you want to repay me, you can help me haul the beer cases from the cellar. Luke, the new guy I hired a few weeks ago, broke his arm playing football, and the cases are piling up down there.”
Pushing his chair back, Milan stood. “Of course.” Turning to Celeste, he added, “Give me five minutes.”
“Sure.” Celeste eyed the restroom sign and grabbed her purse for a quick pit stop.
As she was washing her hands at the copper basin, her cell phone rang. It was Julia.
“Hi,” Celeste said.
“You are still alive.” Julia liked to be dramatic, but in truth, Celeste had completely forgotten about her friend.
“I met him,” she said to silence her friend.
Julia’s happy squeal was so loud, Celeste removed the cell phone from her ear and put her on speaker.
“How is he?” Julia asked, but before Celeste could answer, she kept talking. “Is he handsome? Is he from there? Is he a mountain man? Is he big? How is he in bed? I bet he’s a beast in the sack. You did have sex, right? Tell me you had sex! If you didn’t have sex with him, there’s something wrong with you.”
Celeste laughed. “Slow down.”
“Tell me everything and don’t leave anything out. Is he big?”
Celeste leaned her hip against the edge of the vanity. “I don’t have much time now. I’m at a restaurant with Milan—”
“His name is Milan?”
“Yes, and he’s handsome and tall, and everything nice you can think about a man, but you’ll have to wait to hear more when I’m back home.” As she said it, a cold hand grabbed Celeste’s heart and squeezed. It didn’t feel right to move on to a future that didn’t include Milan.
“Okay, fine. We’ll talk later but only because I’m your best friend and I understand that you need to get laid more than you need to talk to me.” Julia’s giggle was contagious. “He’s big, isn’t he?”
Paranormal Dating Agency: Her Dream Alpha (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Angel's Pass Wolves Book 1) Page 7
