by Josie Hunter
“Oh, Dylan…I saw your arms, but…”
“It’s in the past, Steph.”
Her gaze continued to sweep across every inch of his skin, and each moment of silence sent a spear of anxiety through him.
“Do you want to leave?” He placed her on the ground. “I know how it looks.”
She kept her eyes locked on his chest, but finally, she lifted her face. “What?”
“Do you want me to take you back to your car?”
She tilted her face, and before he knew what she was doing, she’d bent and her shorts were sliding down her pale legs. She unhooked her bra and dropped it to the floor and then shimmied out of a pair of white cotton bikinis before she touched the waistband of his shorts.
“Unless you’re kicking me out, I’m staying.” She gave him a saucy smile and tugged on his shorts. “Can I get rid of these now?”
He nodded, and within a mere second, he stood naked in front of her. She dropped to her knees and ran her hands up his legs to cup his ass. His cock stood at attention, bobbing toward her, the head red and swollen and aching to be touched. Then she leaned forward and took it into her mouth, bathing his cock in liquid warmth and gripping it in tight suction. His head fell back, and he groaned.
He raked his fingers through her hair, the soft strands gliding through his fingers, the small bones beneath reminding him just how tiny and precious she was. His Stephanie, the woman who had held his heart for over four years, even though most of those days had been spent far, far away from her.
She worked his cock exactly as he remembered it, fucking it in a rhythm that matched the beating of his heart. She pulled away then yanked him toward her, her fingers digging into his ass and her mouth enveloping him in warm, wet bliss. The veins in his dick pulsed as more blood pooled in the tissues, and his balls tightened, aching with the need to release. She ran her little finger up between his ass cheeks, and he squeezed his eyes in anticipation. When she inserted the tip of her finger into his anus and pushed slowly and gently, he held his breath.
His throbbing cock reached the back of her throat at the same time her finger slid over his prostate. He tightened his hands on her head and lunged forward, his dick exploding and bathing her throat in a flood of cum. She swallowed convulsively, devouring each drop, and his hips continued to lurch as his body quaked beneath her hands. When she’d milked him dry and he felt like an empty husk, she pulled away and sat back on her heels. Her breasts rose and fell as she gave a great sigh, and then she wiped a finger over her lips. He fell back against the sink cabinet and stared down at her.
Stephanie took off her glasses and tossed them behind her to land on her shirt. She gave him a very coy smile.
“Now that we’ve got the hellos out of the way, and you know I’m not going to back out of the room in horror, can we get back to doing what we do best?”
He pulled in a deep breath, watching as she rose and stepped into the shower.
“Come on, Dylan. You know what I want.”
* * * *
Heart pounding and breathing unsteadily, Stephanie let the warm water slide over her hot, naked flesh as she waited for his response. She might have pushed him too far too fast. From the first moment, she’d known he was raw and hurt, probably emotionally unstable and vulnerable after everything he’d been through. But all she wanted was his cock in her aching pussy, her hands held tightly in his as he brutally pounded into her. All she wanted was the old Dylan, the one who took what he wanted but gave her everything she wanted in return.
His cock grew longer, bigger, thicker with each moment she watched him.
She’d thought she’d put all that in the past, that sex anytime in the future would be tamer, more sane. But the old Stephanie was back with a vengeance. All it had taken was his scent, the glitter in his green eyes, the smell of his wolf. She wanted to be his prey. She wanted a bit of pain, something that would make her feel whole and perfect and loved again. She—
He lunged toward her, and she gave a startled squeak as he fell against her, pushing her against the warm tiles and covering her smaller body with his very large one. She lifted her face just as his mouth descended and plundered her lips in a savage kiss, his hands grabbing hers and lifting them high above her head. Her wrists were encased tightly in one hand while his other grabbed her ass, yanking her hard and squeezing her skin in a vise grip.
“Open your legs.”
She did as he demanded, her pussy flooding with moisture, a flash of desire spearing through her body, her clit hard and pulsing, aching to be touched. He shoved his leg between hers, and she tilted her hips toward him, grinding her clit against his thigh. She rocked, riding his thigh, increasing the pressure until she felt her orgasm winding through her pelvis, throbbing and aching as her clit grew hotter and harder, vibrating with anticipation.
He bit her lip, and she yelped against his mouth, her rabbit trembling with both intense pleasure and flutters of pain.
Her head fell back as his mouth latched onto the skin of her neck, sucking and nipping hard, his tongue licking at her flesh between bites. He lifted her and took a nipple into his mouth, biting it gently then sucking it deep into his mouth. She wanted desperately to touch him, but her wrists were still held tight, and she bucked for a moment trying to get free.
“Stop,” he whispered against her ear.
She stilled instantly, and he continued to suck her breast, the pressure and suction creating spirals of pleasure through her body, all of them flowing downward to her throbbing pussy to tease and tickle, to throb and pulse.
He peered down at her, his eyes dark green crystalline emeralds, his skin shimmering with streams of water in the dim light. “What do you want, Steph?”
“Everything…all of it.”
“In time,” he said. “What do you want at this moment?”
“I want you to fuck me,” she said on a moan. “Please. Now. Do it.”
He lifted his head, and his brow rose. “Now, little rabbit? Did I just hear you say now?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Are you giving me orders?” A dark hungry look flickered in his eyes. His wolf was dangerously close to the surface, prowling at the edge of his conscious mind. She could feel the animal ready to pounce, ready to savage. The muscles of her pussy convulsed.
“No,” she said softly. “No orders.”
“That’s my good girl.” He tightened his hand on her wrists, and she gasped, her nipples tightening. “Now what was it you wanted again?”
She lifted her hips, the muscles of her ass clenching in his hand. She rubbed her pussy against his hot, wet body.
“Fuck me, Dylan. Please. I want you to fuck me.”
His lips curled slowly into a smile. “Oh, I’m going to fuck you, little rabbit. I’m going to fuck you silly. I might even eat you alive.” He nipped at her breast. “But on my terms.”
His terms. Oh, how she’d missed that.
He tightened his hands on her wrists, and the tension brought a delicious pain and anticipation. She stared up into his eyes, and without warning, without a word, he rammed his cock into her. Her body lifted with the power of his thrust, his cock sliding deeper into her slick pussy. Her muscles embraced his, clenching with desire and need, holding on to the thing she’d missed in the last few years, the thing that made her whole.
He began to move then, pounding into her pussy, his cock big and hard and wet with her juices, sliding in and out and touching her G-spot with each thrust. Trapped between the warm, slippery tiles behind her and his big, hard body, Stephanie had no choice but to surrender to the sensations flooding through her. She tensed when the orgasm slammed through her, twisting and spiraling and wreaking havoc like a freight train out of control. Then, after waves of endless pleasure, all the tension in her body dissolved and a warm, wonderful feeling of lethargy surrounded her in peace.
She finally knew what she’d been missing the last few years—her inner peace had returned along with her lover.
* * * *
Another night in fucking paradise.
Medea strolled the boardwalk, her gaze roaming over the denizens of Catamount, her body humming with the need to kill something, anything.
Midnight had come and gone, but the party area of Catamount still bristled with energy. Music of all types flowed from the open doorways and mingled on the boardwalk, rock clashing with reggae and country vying for dominance against jazz. Shifters and humans alike stumbled in and out of the riverside bars, and groups of young people blocked walkways, laughing, dancing, and drinking from beer bottles and plastic cups. Those a bit more sober wandered in and out of restaurants and shops as though they had all the time in the world to indulge their petty needs and desires. The ambience of the whole town sickened her, everyone living and playing happily together, as though the two species—human and shifters—had coexisted in harmony since the dawn of time. If humans only knew how often their lives hinged in the balance, they would go back to their caves, huddle together, and ward off the things lurking in the dark.
A girl can dream.
A couple, mindless of the merriment around them, strolled arm-in-arm toward her on the boardwalk. It was not the couple she wanted. She’d hoped the kayak adventure was the beginning of their evening, but somehow they’d vanished after their little river voyage. This couple was…nauseatingly sweet. The cute little woman huddled close to her hunky man, staring up in adoration as they shared secrets. He, in turn, stared at her enchanted and in love, oblivious to everything around him but her. She might as well have been Helen of Troy. Medea knew Helen had been nothing but a bitchy swan-shifter who used men. Give one of those tedious white swans a bit of power, and it went directly to her head. This woman, however, was not a swan. She was…
Medea sniffed.
Fuck. She’s just a canary.
Medea almost laughed, but that laughter died when she got a scent of the man. Wolf-shifter.
She smiled at the couple to test their awareness. They continued to give goo-goo eyes to each other, and the rhythm of Medea’s heartbeat escalated. She paused for a moment to allow them some distance, leaning against the railing and staring into the dark water of the river below. She drained the last of the warm margarita in her plastic cup, tossed it into the trash bin, and then began to follow her prey.
* * * *
After they’d made love several times, and hours later, Dylan asked her to stay the night, and as tempting as the offer was, Stephanie declined. He walked her back through a quiet park to the parking lot. He gave her a perfect kiss in a splash of perfect moonlight, and then Stephanie settled into her SUV. She gave him a final wave before she headed back to her small Cape Cod house and her real life.
The blissful sensation drifting through her body indicated the old Stephanie had returned with a vengeance, and now that it had become a reality—not just the terrible possibility—she realized how much she’d missed the physical connection she’d had with him, how her happiness had fed from his, and how a few moments in his presence could turn a bad day into a good one.
And she so wanted another good day.
She dumped her bag on the foyer table, locked up, and headed up the stairs, looking forward to some blissful sex-induced sleep before she had to meet Rusty at the office bright and early for a training session.
When she reached the top of the stairs, Stephanie saw her mother come out of Laura’s bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Stephanie panicked, searching blankly for the time. After midnight? Why was her mother up after midnight?
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing, honey. At least nothing to worry about. Laura’s just been agitated tonight. She keeps shifting.”
A soft howl drifted through the closed door followed by the rapid click click click of nails as a small body moved across the hardwood floor then bounced against the door. Before Stephanie could even touch the knob, it rattled, and a tiny voice said, “Mama?”
Stephanie slowly opened the door for fear of hitting her daughter, and as soon as the door opened, a naked Laura barreled through, clutching Stephanie around the legs. She scooped her daughter up and cuddled her close.
“What’s the matter, sweetie? Bad dreams?”
Laura’s head shook against Stephanie’s shoulder. “I like wolfie.”
“I know you do,” Stephanie said. “Being wolfie is fun.”
“And nice,” Laura murmured.
“I think she means safe,” Stephanie’s mother said. “She doesn’t have to think.”
Stephanie pulled back a bit, trying to see Laura’s face. “What’s bothering you, baby? Did something happen?”
Laura shook her head, but a tear tracked down her cheek, breaking Stephanie’s heart.
“Mom?” She glanced at her mother, filled with questions.
Her mother sighed. “It started earlier this evening. We went to the park down the street. Laura was watching several of the kids playing with their…dads.”
“Oh.” Stephanie felt heartsick. She cupped the back of Laura’s head and snuggled her deeper into her neck.
“Where my daddy?” Laura murmured, her warm breath tickling Stephanie’s skin. She lifted her head and cupped her small hands around Stephanie’s face. “Please, Mama? Where my daddy?”
These questions had been so much easier to answer before. They’d come every so often, easily fended off by saying her daddy lived far, far away, but that was before Laura had realized that most kids in Catamount had fathers who lived close. There were very few single parents in Catamount. In fact, most children had three or four parents. Since Laura had begun talking more, the questions had come more often, and they’d been far easier to handle before Stephanie knew the truth. Now anything she said would be a lie.
Just a few more months…weeks…days…
She carried Laura back to her room, got her back in her pajamas, and laid her in the bed, sitting at the edge. She brushed her daughter’s hair back from her face.
“You don’t like being with me and Gramma?”
Laura nodded. “I like it.” Her face scrunched up as she thought. “But wolfie…is sad.”
“It sounds like Laura is sad, too,” Stephanie said. “Are you sad, baby?”
“Not all the days.”
“But you are today.”
Laura nodded.
Stephanie smiled. “Anything I can do to make you happy?”
Laura stared at her, her eyes bright with tears. “One thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Get my daddy.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Stephanie said. “Maybe I can find your daddy. Maybe he’ll—”
Laura bolted upright. “Come visit our house?”
“Maybe he will.” She pushed Laura back down and pulled the covers back up. “But you have to do something for me.”
“What, Mama?”
“You know what I need,” Stephanie said with a smile. “I can’t sleep without it.”
“No, no,” Laura said, shaking her head and giving a tiny giggle.
Then, very quickly and very gently, she began to tickle Laura, starting at her tummy and working her way up to her neck until Laura began to wiggle and giggle, her face blossoming into a happy expression filled with a beautiful smile.
“There’s my happy little girl,” Stephanie said. She kissed Laura’s cheeks then her forehead. “I meant what I said. I’ll do my best, honey.”
“I know, Mama.”
Now all she had to do was tell Dylan the truth. As hard as it might be, she had to do it for her daughter.
* * * *
The wide eyes in the pale face stared through the overhead branches into the night sky, and the strands of longish brown hair floated whimsically in the small ripples that swept against the muddy shore. Medea hunkered down and wiped some wet, stringy hair away then peeled the dripping shirt away from the man’s chest. No markings.
“I hate wasting my fucking time.”
After she tucked her phone back into her pocket, Medea nudged the body at the edge of the riverbank with the toe of her black boot, flipping it over with a swift kick. The body landed in deeper water with a splash, sending waves out toward the center.
She lifted the little canary in her hands. The little woman had shifted once she’d seen things going south, but of course, by then, Medea had already snapped the wolf’s neck. It had been a fairly easy task to grab the bird and snap hers as well.
She gazed down at the still creature and let her fingers slide along the soft yellow feathers.
“Wrong place, wrong time, wrong boyfriend, sweetie. And I really hate yellow.”
Medea tossed the dead bird into the river and watched it float for a moment before she turned and headed back toward the boardwalk.
Chapter 11
Stephanie took several small steps backward, studying Rusty for any hint of movement. He might look an inflatable air dancer dressed in a black martial arts uniform, but the man was lethal in his ability to jump in and out of a danger zone without any fear of reprisal from his assailant. He held the staff loosely in his hands, but Stephanie knew that casual stance meant very little. Any moment now he’d strike, and when his staff hit hers, she knew the sting of the vibration would knock her socks—
Crack.
“Damn it!”
She jerked backward. Pain shot up her arm like a swarm of pissed-off wasps. She shook her arm then tightened her hands on the wooden bō, keeping her eyes locked on Rusty. His stare never wavered.
