Fighting the urge to shift, Bel grabbed frantically for her control exercises. She fumbled the pen, knocking it under a nearby table, and dived after it. Pressing her palms into the cool tiled floor, she focused on the physical sensations of her body. The brush of her hair against the nape of her neck, the way her tennis shoes pinched her bent toes, the painful dig of her underwired bra into the side of her breast. A chair scraped back, and the scents of eucalyptus and clean sweat filled her nose. She tilted her head, peering through her bangs into Troy’s warm green eyes. The dangerous threat he posed to the pack she’d sensed moments before had vanished. Loyalty, honor, and a fierce desire to live in peace among them all resonated from him.
“Everything okay, miss?” he asked with a smile that warmed her cheeks.
Waving her pen under his nose, she plastered a smile on her face. “Found it!”
Crawling back on her hands and knees, she brushed a crease from her skirt and tried to make sense of everything. Troy had the potential to destroy their pack or become one of its greatest assets. She needed to figure out which path he would take. And soon.
Chapter Three
His move to follow her beneath the table had been driven entirely by instinct. From the moment he’d laid eyes on the pretty blonde, he’d been mesmerized. She looked wholesome and cute in her trim uniform, from the candy-striped ankle socks to the sparkly barrettes in her hair. His wolf howled in his skull, the noise drowning out everything, including the thumping pulse of his heated blood. Like everyone else present, she was a wolf shifter, but she had an otherworldly air about her he found fascinating. The way her cornflower-blue eyes widened every time they rested on him sent his cock into overdrive. He wanted to lap her up, wanted to curl around her and soak up the sweetness he saw in her smile. Pushing to his feet, Troy slid quickly into the booth, grateful the single-breasted jacket of his lightweight suit covered the front of his body to the top of his thighs.
Derek stared at him in full alpha mode. The burn of power in his golden irises hit Troy and he lowered his head. He needed to get control, and fast. The man in front of him didn’t seem likely to miss much, and if he suspected Troy was interested in one of the females of his pack? He clenched his fist in his lap to hide a tremor of fear. He was acting like an amateur, giving the alpha the perfect excuse to remove him from the vicinity before they even opened discussions.
“We keep things simple here,” the alpha said, eyes flicking between Troy’s suit and his own much-more casual shirt and jeans. “I can recommend everything on the menu, though. Just make sure you leave room for a slice of key lime pie.”
Grasping onto the resumption of conversation with grateful hands, Troy plied his whole attention to the menu in front of him. Bel had moved away to clear a table on the other side of the diner, which helped him regain his focus. The menu choices might be simple, but the cooking smells drifting from the kitchen set his mouth watering.
“Simple sounds good,” he said, only realizing how true that was as he said the words. Having shrugged off his jacket, he rolled the sleeves of his white shirt to the elbow. After the chicanery of home, simple sounded fucking fantastic. The tension he’d carried for the past two weeks since his father’s assault eased, and his shoulders dropped a couple of inches. A soft squeak of tennis shoes on tile warned him of Bel’s approach.
“Are you ready?”
He watched the easy interaction between Derek and Bel, a familiarity and light teasing he didn’t think he’d ever shared with a woman. Troy took great pains to keep a distance between himself and the few partners he took to bed. Their interactions were mutually satisfying, but he chose carefully to ensure he didn’t share an intimacy with anyone who might get ideas about dating the son of their alpha on a regular basis. His loneliness mattered little in comparison to keeping them off Clark’s radar. He would not willingly place another weapon in his father’s sick armory. Suppressing a tinge of envy, he basked in the smile Bel turned upon him. Gentle, sweet, a little clumsy—everything about her appealed to him. His wolf perked up. If he gave his animal side its way, he’d be begging at her feet for a pat on the head. The little witch had him mesmerized.
“I’d like a cheeseburger and side salad please, Bel.” Her pen paused a heartbeat or two at his use of her name, giving him a surge of satisfaction. Whatever relationship she had with the alpha, this pretty little wolf liked him.
She cut her gaze to him. “Anything else?” God damn it, the knowing glint in her eyes slayed him.
Take me, use me, cut my heart out with a dull spoon. “Not right now, maybe later.”
His burger was cooked to perfection, still a little pink in the center and melt-in-the-mouth juicy. Troy closed his eyes in brief appreciation as he savored the meal. When was the last time he’d sat in the presence of an alpha and been able to enjoy his food? Derek carried the leadership of his pack with easy confidence. He didn’t give the impression he required the bowing and scraping deference so many required, his father included. The talk between them shifted from sports, to the latest television series that seemed to have gripped most of the nation. When it moved to state politics, the alpha paid closer attention, asking pointed questions to mine Troy’s local knowledge. They talked around the purpose of his visit, avoiding anything shifter-related, but one thing was clear—Derek and his pack had put down roots and looked set to stay. Damn.
Regret washed through him. Here was an alpha he would follow given half a chance. Every passing moment widened the gulf between the pack he’d been raised in and the tight-knit group who had settled in Moonlight. Over the course of their meal, the various shifters in the room dropped past their table and shared a few words with the alpha. He welcomed them all with equal enthusiasm regardless of their level of dominance. It didn’t escape Troy’s notice they all gravitated toward Bel as well. Her sunny smile never wavered. The skin at the back of his neck itched with the need to have her pet him the way she touched her pack mates. Each person left her presence in a bright mood, even the hulking guy at the counter who cast an evil eye toward Troy every couple of minutes. The pressurized atmosphere in the room lifted in increments until a collective sigh echoed around the room. The wolves around him were no longer on highest alert. Even the alpha appeared inclined to give him a chance. He didn’t know how she’d done it, but Bel had given him a foot in the door. He could move around these people, get to know them a little. They would be suspicious, of course, but he doubted they’d slam doors in his face.
“If you’re going to stick around for a few days, I need you to stay in town. We have a guest cottage you can use.” Derek slid his plate to the side and rested his folded arms on the table in front of him. His body language must have been a prearranged cue because the two men from the counter moved immediately to the side of the booth. The bigger of the two glowered at him. The thick, white scar bisecting his dark beard pulled tight in time with the muscle tic in his jaw.
Derek pushed to his feet. “Kirk and Rand will escort you to your hotel to gather your things. I’ll also require you to hand over your electronic devices.”
Troy nodded once; he’d expected nothing less. Lifting his folded jacket from the seat next to him, he pulled his car keys from the pocket and placed them on the table. The big man scooped them up, handing them off to a third man clad in gray overalls, who ghosted over.
“Thanks, Knox,” the alpha murmured.
“No problem.” He flashed a quick grin toward Troy. “I’ll take care of your baby, don’t worry.”
Troy cast a worried look after the departing man, and Kirk clapped him on the shoulder. “Knox is cool. He runs the local garage here in Moonlight. You’ll get your car back in one piece.” The big man gave him an evil grin. “Or mostly one piece.”
***
Soft rain pattered on the overhanging roof. Troy sank into the padded wicker chair on the back porch of the single-story cottage, a cold beer sweating in his hand. The rain thickened the hot air further, making it hard to brea
th. Moisture already darkened the waistband of the sweat shorts he’d pulled on after his shower. He’d eschewed a T-shirt, unable to face anything else confining his skin. Kirk and Rand had been respectful in their treatment, but his wolf chafed hard over the violation of his personal property. They’d searched his bags, confiscating his phone, laptop, even his e-reader. They’d dropped him at the cottage an hour before, leaving explicit instructions for him not to leave without the escort who would show him around the town in the morning.
The rear of the building faced a wooded area, and he doubted anyone who saw him would be concerned at his state of dress. Nudity was accepted among shifters. The thick tree line tempted him. A run would settle both man and wolf enough he might be able to snatch a few hours’ sleep. He raised the beer to his lips, draining half the contents. Running in another pack’s territory without an explicit invitation would be a serious violation. Regardless of how uncomfortable his wolf might be, Troy did not want to risk pissing off the Moonlight alpha. There had to be a way to play both sides of this terrible situation and find a way out for him and Quinn. There has to be.
Wood creaked to his left, and Troy stilled, lowering his feet down from the porch railing. The heavy shadow of the overhang would conceal his presence. Rand had made a point of telling him he shared the home to the right with his mate but hadn’t mentioned the occupant of the cottage on the opposite side. A pale reflection caught his eye, moonlight shining on light hair. The slender figure moving toward the woods paused and glanced in his direction. Bel.
He was out of his chair before realizing he’d moved; the thick railing around the porch was all that prevented him from striding across the open space toward her. Rain pattered against his skin, mixing with the sheen of sweat coating his chest. If she had turned away, kept moving without acknowledging him, he might not have acted. But he’d never know. Instead, she raised a hand to her throat, drawing his eye to the delicate line of her arm, the expanse of bare skin above the low neckline of her simple dress.
Bending his knees, Troy leaped onto the railing, balancing on his toes in a crouch. She turned her head, glanced toward the woods then back in his direction. The last vestiges of the mask of civility he wore slipped away, and he bared his teeth in a feral grin. Do it, he urged silently.
As though she heard his voiceless plea, Bel spun on her heel and made a break for the trees. Growling low in his throat, he sprang from the railing, hitting the ground at full speed. The clouds overhead burst open, turning the gentle patter of rain into a raging torrent, soaking him to the skin in moments. His feet slipped and slid in the long grass underfoot, but he didn’t slow his pace. Diving between a pair of thick trunks, he ducked beneath long curtains of Spanish moss and passed instantly into full darkness. The tangled canopy overhead masked the worst of the rain. Twigs snapped, warning her of his approach, marking her own desperate flight through the woods. Her scent hung thick in the humid air, a blanket of sunshine and sweetbriar.
A twisted root caught his ankle, sending him sprawling forward. Tucking his shoulder, he rolled with the motion, gaining his footing moments later at the base of a small incline. He stood in the bottom of a natural hollow, a clearing in the trees. Bel was less than twenty feet away, clutching the skirt of her dress high as she scrambled up the other side of the hollow.
“Stop,” he growled, forcing every ounce of command he possessed into the word.
She froze, one foot on the crest of the slope. He stalked across the clearing, watching her shoulders heave as she tried to catch her breath. He knew how she felt. Between the thick summer air and the lust coursing through his veins, he might never breathe normally again. The muscles in her calf twitched where her toes braced for purchase on the incline. He’d never spent much time considering the graceful shape of the back of a woman’s leg before. The curve of muscle narrowing to taper into the rigidity of an Achilles tendon, the pregnant swell of a smooth heel, the arch of her elegant instep.
Pausing at the base of the slight hill, he reached for her leg, traced the lean muscle of her calf. He slid his hand higher, watching it disappear beneath the damp hem of her dress. A soft gasp escaped her lips. Bending his head, he nibbled along the defined edge of her calf muscle, burying his lips into the dimple at the back of her knee.
“Troy!” His name on her lips sounded both a blessing and a curse. Keeping his hand clamped around the back of her thigh, he pushed himself up the slope, forcing her forward until they both stood fully on flat ground. The twisted trunk of a huge oak blocked their path a few feet in front of them.
“Brace your hands on the tree,” he murmured, releasing his grip on her slick skin. She stepped forward, moving without hesitation, which pleased him no end. He closed the small distance between them, leaving bare inches between her back and the front of his body. His cock strained beneath the soft jersey material of his shorts, eager to brush against the ripeness of her ass. He jerked her dress up in a swift motion, making her gasp again as he pulled it over her head and down her arms. He twisted the wet cotton, tangling it around her wrists, effectively binding her hands together where they rested against the rough bark of the tree. Its thick branches, and the cloud-covered skies, left him reliant on his wolf-enhanced eyesight. Her silhouette tapered from her strong shoulders into a trim waist, flowing out at the lush curve of her hips. It reminded him of Nikolas’s cello. The delicate instrument looked ludicrous in his brother’s huge grip, and yet he could coax the most beautiful music from its strings.
Troy licked his lips. He wanted to pluck and stroke Bel the same way until her voice sobbed and soared to a tune entirely of his making. He pressed his thumb between her shoulder blades, dragging it in one slow, firm motion down her spine until it rested at the very top of the seam of her ass. She arched her spine, pushing back into the digit, inviting him to slide lower. The bloom of arousal added a spicy tang to her sweet, natural fragrance. Resisting the urge to drop to his knees and bury his face between her legs, he raised his other hand, shifting both until he cupped her hips. He pulled her lower body backward, nudging her ankles farther apart until she bent over, her back at a thirty-degree angle to the trunk, head lowered between her shoulders. He traced the ebb and flow of her shape, gliding over her delicate curves, feeling her skin shiver beneath his fingers. Spreading his hands wide, he curled them around her rib cage, pausing when they brushed the underside of her firm breasts.
He stepped between her legs, letting her feel the weight of him against her back, nudging his rigid cock against her ass. The heat radiating from her skin scorched him through the material of his shorts, sending a hiss of breath between his clenched teeth. “Beautiful.” He groaned against her ear. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Bel.” He caught the top of her shoulder between his teeth and bit down, loving the eager sob she made in response.
Duty dug its vicious claws into him, raking his guts, forcing the haze of his lust to recede. They shouldn’t be doing this. Touching her risked everything. The wrath of her alpha. The fury of his father if Derek sent him away before his mission had even started. The threat to Quinn if he failed to find a way to get them both out of the clutches of the Brighton pack. Bel must feel it, too, must know letting an almost stranger touch her could pose a danger to herself and her pack.
“Tell me no, Bel,” he begged against the damp hair clinging to the nape of her neck. “Tell me this is madness, and somehow I’ll find the strength to turn and walk away.”
“I can’t,” she said, voice full of regret and longing. “I don’t care about what’s right and what’s wrong. I just need you to keep touching me.” Her hips rocked back, notching his cloth-covered erection in the vee at the top of her thighs. He snarled, shifting his hands until they cupped her breasts, capturing the hard peaks of her nipples between his fingers. Pinching the tender flesh, he twisted and tugged, unable to find the gentleness she deserved in the red blaze of lust engulfing him. His wolf rose, driving his need higher, and his humanity fell away. The calm reason
able man he presented to the world vanished, replaced by a being of the basest instincts and wants.
Chapter Four
Sanity, reason, control. They were all strangers to her as Bel writhed and gasped beneath his fierce touch. Every pinch, every stroke sent waves of heat coursing through her body, arrowing to the center of her being. She could taste his lust for her on her tongue, ripe, heady, the rich wash of eucalyptus sending her head spinning. No one had touched her like this, not even Derek. Always so careful of her omega nature, her previous lovers had petted and coaxed, but never demanded. Troy demanded everything. Touched her like he wanted to own her, break her down to a molecular level, and build her again into a creature of pure need. She wanted it, too. More than anything.
Thrusting her hips back, she ground against the rigid heat of his cock, needing it. Needing him to fill her to overflowing and beyond. Blood rose to the surface of her skin. She could hear the incessant beat of rain on the canopy overhead. Wished she could feel it on her heated flesh. Something, anything to lessen the burn.
He twisted her nipples again, a sharp pinch, followed immediately by a softer stroke. The contrast drove her wild, and she thought she could come from the touch of his hands on her breasts alone. Who knew she would love this? Who even suspected a dark desire lurked within her soul, a need, a pulse so violent she wanted to throw back her head and scream to the heavens.
He knew.
Desperate mewls filled the air, choking from her own throat. “Troy. Please. Now. Need you.” The ability to form a coherent sentence deserted her.
The wolf within rose. Stretching, luxuriating in the demanding touch of this man, this stranger, this mate?
Hunger Moon Page 3
