by N. M. Howell
He met my comment with a raised brow and an inquisitive nod.
“Well, I'm quite relieved. I don't think I could possibly handle another woman fawning over my work just to get into my good graces.” He smiled sweetly. “I know the guy who owns this place. It's why my party is being hosted here. He actually gave me this watch.”
Our eye-lock finally broke when he looked down at his wrist, shook it with a look of fondness, and then readjusted it to a more comfortable setting.
“I would have felt bad appearing without wearing it, but it's not typically my style. It's sort of flashy, no?” He held it up for me to look over.
Bravely, and against all inner intuition, I reached across the table to outline the edge of the watch with my finger. I tapped the glass with my nail.
“You could have fed an entire world with this watch.” I shrugged. “But morality first: don't offend anyone. Right?”
Zack met my gaze again with a teasing smile before saying, “You are no ordinary LA woman, are you? You care more about what's out there than what's in here. What's your name?”
“Skylar Jones. I'm a screenwriter.”
He shook my hand.
“It's lovely to meet you, Skylar Jones.”
Oh ya, my name sounded much better coming out of his mouth.
I giggled, against my better judgment, and held his gaze this time, feeling much more confident than when he'd sat down.
“The world needs change, Mr. Rider. I think that change has to start in big places like Hollywood. Don't you think so?” I wanted to challenge his way of thinking to see if he was more intelligent than his flashy suit.
“Please, call me Zack. And I think that's a noble cause. I completely agree. People are so preoccupied with image and they could use an awakening.”
He placed his hand gently over mine as we continued to chatter on about the status of Hollywood and currently existing inequalities. I explained my situation with my screenwriting and how I felt that no one was taking me seriously as an artist. He apologized, saying that many executive producers who were shifters simply weren't interested in changing the status quo. Their focus was on the money that could be shoveled in and the potential groupies that it would bring.
“Everything is about sex and money, and how to market that to the rest of the world so it becomes normal.” I couldn't break away from his eyes. I was being sucked in further with every bit of our conversation.
“Indeed. If we invested more into our female compatriots, we could see such a bigger shift in public thinking. Compassion, harmony, civility, and acceptance would be ingrained instead of greed and body shame.” His intelligence was surprising.
“I don't get it.” I shook my head and laughed. “You're so culturally aware and informed. How is it you seem so...so…?”
“Aloof? Dull?”
I nodded, almost embarrassed to admit that earlier I'd considered him a spoiled brat.
“Yes...I'm sorry. I don't mean to imply you're not educated. You just don't act like you agree with these things.” I curled my fingers around his hand that was still resting over mine.
“You don't have to be sorry for your opinion. You just have to be sorry that you were wrong.” He teased.
As I gaped at him, my eyes wide, he threw his head back in an uncontrollable yet surprisingly charming laugh and squeezed my hand.
I instinctively swatted his hand away.
“Oh, darling! I hadn't meant to offend.”
“Sorry – habit,” I said sheepishly.
His wolf-life eyes were sparkling from across the table as if the unexpected chemistry igniting between us was inspiring his wildness to shine through. I hadn't noticed how much closer we had been sitting, that the entire club was basically watching us whether they made it known or not. I briefly glanced around. A group of girls was beginning to gather near the table. They weren't blatantly surrounding us, and they grew uncomfortably close. Zack noticed the shift in my energy.
“Would you like to escape the inevitable carnage that is about to ensue if we continue sitting here, enjoying each other's company?”
I paused and then responded, “Uh. Yeah, sure.”
We rose from our seats to be met by a ferocious crowd who tried piling around Zack in an attempt to get his attention. I felt like an anchovy being shoved around until I felt Zack tug my arm in a different direction. We dodged between dancing drunk bodies and found our way to the back door where I caught Maya ogling us in shock, eyes wider than saucers and mouth hanging agape. I shrugged and waved, unsure of how to respond. I hoped she wasn't upset that I was leaving without her. The bouncer smuggled us out the back door and into a hidden alley so we could avoid the crowds and nosy paparazzi that were waiting for us out front. Victorious, we ran hand-in-hand down the wet alley towards his car that was parked conveniently a few blocks down. Once we were snug in our seats, Zack sped us off into the dark night, his contagious laughter filling the air behind us.
3.
Ocean waves crashing over the sound of a light breeze was the perfect greeting upon exiting Zack's lush, silver Porsche. I carefully removed my Jimmy Choo's, the same pair I'd worn earlier in the day, and tossed them onto the seat along with my clutch. I was ready for my feet to meet the sand. It had been far too long since I'd seen the ocean. I don't even remember the last time I was down here, despite living so close. Zack removed his shoes as well and placed them on the floor of the driver's side, tucking the laces carefully so they wouldn't get ruined. I admired the way he handled them - like they were glass dolls that he didn't want to break. After he shut the door, he regarded me with a playful look.
“Somebody is eager, I see.” He smiled and extended a tan hand, the empty space between us electrified with mystery and exhilaration. I took his hand.
“It's funny. I live nearby, yet I hardly come down to the beach. It's one of my favorite places to be.”
Zack responded with a kind laugh and said, “I'm glad I could be the one to bring you out here.” His gaze never left my eyes when he spoke to me. I found it hard to look away.
I inhaled deeply as we wandered across the sand to a darkened pier a couple hundred yards from where we parked. It hadn't dawned on me that I might not be safe out here with Zack. In fact, I never once questioned his intentions with me – I just automatically assumed my company was satisfactory, but now I was starting to doubt everything. I paused.
“Zack?”
“Yes, Skylar?”
“Uh. I'm..." I didn't know how to say it without sounding like an idiot.
"You can tell me anything," he said as he squeezed my hand.
"...afraid.” Yeah, I did sound like an idiot.
“Afraid of what?”
“You.”
I expected him to be upset or disappointed, perhaps even angry, but the features in his face only softened further as his eyebrows drew together. He took both of my hands in his and looked deep into my eyes. This wasn't the same gaze from the club. This was much more intense than that initial captivating glance. His eyes opened. His pupils blossomed and expanded, and the blue surrounding them swirled into a paler shade. Suddenly, I found myself inside a riptide, his eyes pulling me deeper and deeper into their vast and expansive waters.
“Skylar Jones, I would never harm you – I absolutely promise you with every fiber of my being. If you no longer feel safe, we can return to the car, and I'll drive you home. I will not be angry at all.”
His explanation was surprising. Why was he being so kind to me? I was of no real significance in the world of Hollywood, and I certainly hadn't made any huge impressions on anyone lately. So, what about me was keeping Zack Rider interested? As if he could hear my thoughts, he went on:
“I'll admit that it's been torturous to keep my hands off you the entire evening, but I will not press forward unless you give me permission to do so. I don't want to alarm you, but wolf shifters like myself mate for life, and our encounter is no coincidence. I believe we were meant to meet.”
/>
The breeze picked up as he went silent and I followed its path up towards the moon that was glittering down upon the sand around us. Another wave crashed nearby. My eyes traced our footprints up to where we were standing, and I raised my eyes to meet his once more.
“I'm not sure I understand,” I managed to say.
He simply watched me silently, peering deeper into my eyes. I hadn't felt this way about anyone in a long time. Ever, really. And I had no way of justifying this to myself. I had strict rules about what I let happen on first dates, and that was usually just sex. This... this felt like more. I couldn't explain it, but there was something about this man that just totally and completely consumed me.
"I believe we were meant to meet," he repeated, almost in a whisper.
My chest nearly exploded as realization crashed down on me. He thinks I'm his mate. That can't possibly be right. He's Zack Rider, and I'm... well, I'm the farthest thing from the women men like him typically date. Let alone mate with. I could feel my heart beating so loudly, and by the way he watched me, I knew he could hear it, too.
"Please say something," he said to me, wrapping his hands around mine.
"I know this will sound ridiculous," I whispered to him, as he pulled me closer towards him, "but I have never felt this way before. I don't really know what to do."
“Nor do I,” he laughed. His warm, boyish laugh loosened my nerves a little bit. He pulled me in close, and I leaned into his chest, thankful for the excuse not to speak for a moment.
He kissed the top of my head, a sweet and comforting gesture.
“I want to spend time with you. Here. And I want to keep spending time with you,” I whispered into his broad chest, taking in the smell of his expensive cologne.
I couldn't see, but I could feel him smiling. I noticed that as I stood pressed up against him, I could sense so much of what he was feeling. Was that a shifter thing?
“That is by no means a promise to be your mate,” I added quickly. “But I'm positive I don't want tonight to end.”
He traced my arms with his fingers and didn't stop until his palms were gently cradling my face.
Someone once told me that shifters can't choose their mates, they have no control over who it is or when it happens. For many shifters, it's not an issue because they take on many mates over their lifetime. Wolves are unique, in that they mate for life - no exceptions. I never believed that story about shifters, thinking it was their excuse to take who they wanted, when they wanted. Now, however, I knew it to be true. I could feel it, somehow. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.
“Skylar,” he whispered. “Do not fear me. I will take care of you.”
Without hesitation, I leaned into his lips as a signal of agreement. I hardly knew what my own emotions were telling me, but I felt no bad energy. He didn't seem manipulative. He wasn't trying to pull some typical suave moves like most Hollywood shifters. He was just holding me under the moonlight with the cold sand pressing against our bare feet. The particles of our skin melted into the surrounding wind, and we became one with the sand, the ocean, the sky, the moon, and even the cars zooming across the highway in the distance. I felt their tires rattling the ground with their electric vibrations. This sort of energy could shatter the earth, but we sustained it between our lips as they continued to play.
“Let's walk further. I love the view from this pier.” He nodded towards the wooden structure just a hundred feet ahead. I agreed, gently tracing the veins in his hands as we walked. What a strange night this was turning out to be.
Our footsteps echoed underneath the pier as we made our way to the end, way out from where the water broke upon the shore. Long, rolling waves crashed in the distance as the wind whipped salty bits of water against our exposed skin. Water lapped at the posts holding the pier, and I looked down through the darkness to watch it shimmer under the light of the moon. I shivered. Zack removed his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders and then returned his arm to my waist. The warmth was comforting, so I leaned into his body and rested my head against his chest. I finally recognized his cologne to be Armani, a robust scent that filled my nostrils and stirred the emotions sitting at the bottom of my stomach. My sense of smell was getting better – interesting. I nuzzled his neck with my nose which elicited a soft moan that was barely audible above the sound of the wind, the waves, and the warring of my heart against my brain.
Zack's fingers found my neck and traced circles up to my ears while his lips gently decorated my throat, a motion that immediately caused my knees to buckle. He caught me and laughed.
“I didn't know I could do that.”
I laughed. There was nothing else I could do. He was perfect. This was perfect.
Instead of pulling me back up, he lowered me carefully to the ground and positioned himself between my legs with one hand on my hip and the other cradling my head. His lips trailed down my throat to my chest where they paused as his eyes asked for permission to continue. I nodded yes and moaned into the breeze, as he bit down on the fabric of my dress and tore open the front buttons with a slight jerk of his head. He slowly kissed my skin as he worked his way down my chest until he reached the mounds of my breasts. With clever hands, he nimbly unclasped my bra as if he'd done it a thousand times before. I tried not to think about that.
His tongue plunged beneath my dress to my nipples where he deliberately devoured each one as if tasting something sweet for the first time. His hands smoothed my straps off my shoulders as he playfully sucked and bit at my soft flesh, moaning adorably with delight. I carefully unbuttoned his shirt, doing my best to steady my arms from the pleasure I was feeling. I trailed my nails across his broad chest as he lifted the hem of my dress to massage my legs, working his hands up my thigh as I moaned into his neck.
The anticipation became too much, and he tore his shirt off as I fumbled with his belt and zipper. His shirt disappeared into the distance with the breeze as he kicked off his pants. I lifted my torn dress over my head as I watched him undress. I shivered again, but not from the chill of the wind. His body was absolutely amazing, a fortress built from years of running and switching between forms. His tanned skin had traces of freckles, and only the smallest amount of hair trickled down below his belly button. I noticed a scar above his left nipple that ran from his shoulder blade down to the center of his chest. I traced it. I didn't want to break our moment and ask, even though I was curious. As he leaned down to kiss me, I tucked the thought away for later and became lost in his hot breath against my skin.
"Please, Skylar," he breathed into me. "Be mine. Oh please god, just be mine." He plunged his tongue deep into my mouth with desperation, yet his hands held restraint. He was waiting for me to answer and give him permission. For a man who was lying nearly naked on top of a girl on a public beach, he still managed to be a perfect gentleman. I would have given him points for that, but his chivalry was getting in the way of him being inside me, and I was ready to explode with physical starvation.
"Yes," I nearly shouted at him. "I'm yours. I'm all yours if you'll have me. Oh fuck me, please take me."
A loud moan escaped my lips as Zack one-handedly tore off my thong and spread my thighs, his thumbs tracing along my pink flesh, exposing the wet warmth that was aching to be touched. He gently pushed my chest back with his free hand until I lay down on the damp wood of the pier, as he lowered himself down between my legs and masterfully plunged his tongue deep inside me, bringing forth sensations I never thought I could experience. His tongue worked in and out and in circles, and he alternated back and forth between sucking on the outer folds of my flesh, and plunging deeper and deeper inside of me with his tongue. My legs began to spasm from the pleasure as he withdrew and nibbled curiously on my labia, his large fingers replacing his tongue inside my throbbing, wet cavity.
I laughed in delirium, never having experienced anything quite like this before. It felt as though my senses had been heightened. I wondered if that was a side effect of
mating with a shifter. I made a mental note to ask him later, although I questioned my mental capacity at this moment. Mating – what? No, what a ridiculous thought. I easily pushed it from my mind as I became utterly consumed with his physical presence.
His fingers inside of me slowed, and my breath returned to me. I reached down and grabbed his arm, pulling him back up to face me. Our eyes locked together, and as we peered so deeply into each other's souls, I knew then and there that no physical experience could ever rival the closeness we felt at that moment.
That didn't stop my desperate need to have him inside me, though. I moaned desperately, imploring him to take the next step. As if reading my mind, he reached down and pulled off his briefs in one elegant motion. His massive, thick member spilled out before me, standing erect up against his tight stomach. Fuck, he was perfect. Godly, even.
The animal inside of him slipped out briefly as I reached my hands down and grabbed hold of his penis in a tight grip with both hands. An inhuman growl rumbled from his chest, sending shivers throughout my entire being. I watched as the colors of his eyes changed back and forth between different shades of blue, the wolf inside of him staring back at me protectively. I knew right then and there that we were mated, and it felt absolutely and naturally perfect.
Before I could react, he shook his head, bringing himself back to his human reality, and he pinned my arms down with his as he moved his hips down to meet mine. He positioned himself just at my opening, pressing his member against my clit teasingly. I moaned and shivered again as he pressed himself firmly against me, still trapped beneath his grasp. My legs were shaking uncontrollably at this point, and I suddenly grew nervous. I had never actually had sex with a shifter before. Nor had I been with a man of his... size. He sensed my hesitation and eased back a little bit.
"What's wrong? What did I do? Are you okay?" He said quickly, pulling away.
"Nothing," I whispered to him. "Nothing at all. Please, oh god please go on."
