Runt of the Litter (Halfbreed Chronicles Book 1)

by Hemlock, Isabelle

  This whole time, by holding my hand, she made her decision obvious, even when her father couldn’t get it. Even when I don’t really one hundred percent believe it either. She’s protecting me from the uncertainty and it genuinely warms my heart towards her, to think I’m worthy of her in any way shape or form.

  “Daddy, come on inside and let them say goodnight to one another,” I see Savannah stand near the door, and before her father turns around, she gives both me and Riley a little nod, as if she can handle him for a little while. The man huffs, and after a moment’s hesitation, relents and heads inside - though he slams the door so hard, that I think he might have shattered a panel. I’m not entirely shaken, not as much as I should be at least, but I’m also not keen on kissing her goodnight ten feet away from her father, who is surely watching us from a window.

  Still, Riley looks at me, seemingly apologetic, but I’m quick to reassure her, “He’s as gentle as a puppy I’m sure, all bark, no bite, right?.”

  “He shouldn’t have been so rude to you,” her eyes look downright sad, and I want to do whatever I can to make her feel better.

  “Eh, honestly, I can handle it. My brothers like to tease me incessantly, I’m okay with a couple of names slung my way.”

  Riley steps a little closer, but I try not to encourage any affection between us. Still a little too aware of eyes being on us, though it’s getting increasingly hard to deny her, when she looks almost pleadingly at me, “Avery, he shouldn’t have treated you like that, nobody should.” Her eyes narrow a little, and there’s a touch of something there. Not quite anger, or jealousy, but - possessiveness? I’m not used to the gaze, and I’m not sure how to respond to it, “Maybe I should talk to these brothers of yours if they tease you again.”

  Just what I need, a werewolf wreaking havoc on my brothers. I’ll never hear the end of it, “No, it’s okay - promise.”

  Riley looks at me, seemingly questioning if I’m being forthcoming or not, but I give nothing away. Not because I don’t want to bare my soul to her, but because I just don’t feel like getting it into it with an audience. She must sense my tension, because suddenly, without much warning, she lunges forward and kisses me so hard, that I can’t help but wrap my arms around her to brace myself. Any thought I had about my brothers, or her family possibly watching, melts away easily. All I can suddenly think of is keeping her body flush with mine.

  It couldn’t be that hard to lift her up, wrap her long legs around my waist, and carry her to my bike. We’d be on the road before anyone catches us, and maybe if I go fast enough the wind would wipe away the scent just enough for us to make a clean enough exit.

  Dammit, all I ever seem to think about with this woman is how to get her pinned under me. This is ridiculous, I need to pause, take a breath, something, anything.

  I break it off, and even push myself back a little. Hoping that a little distance will make it easier. But when I hear her whine for more, it takes every bit of resolve I have, not to pounce on her after all, “Riley, wait.”

  She grumbles something, a protest I’m sure, but I’m resolute. Maybe she’s thinking I don’t want to be around her anymore. That her father managed to scare me off after all. But I won’t let her linger on those thoughts for long, “Spend tomorrow with me, please.”

  Her face perks up a little, and she skips - skips! - towards me, wrapping her arms around my neck, which (almost naturally) makes me rest my hands on her waist. Riley nods her head, “Meet me for breakfast at the diner on Baker street then. About eight?”

  I raise my chin, “You don’t need some sleep after the night we had?”

  She cocks an eyebrow, as if she’s almost trying to catch me in a bind, “You think I need to catch up on my beauty sleep?”

  I smirk, because she’s teasing me, “Don’t pretend you don’t know you’re stunning.”

  There’s the slightest tint to her cheeks. She’s an amazing woman - soon to be my woman - but her actually blushing at me, makes me want to whisper all sorts of things into her ear, as we roll around in bed. Even now, I can feel us slightly swaying, as if there’s already such an ease between us - and to think, this is only the first day, “I’ll meet you at the diner at seven, if it means I get an extra hour with you.”

  She presses forward, eager to kiss me one last time, and though I try to hold back, I’m secretly thrilled that she seems to find it so difficult to say goodnight to me. When she breaks the kiss this time, I feel her slipping her hands from my neck, down to my hands, giving them one last squeeze, before she reluctantly separates from me, to head inside.

  I want to follow her - I want to find a way to pick her up and taker her home with me, but I need to take a breath. I need to figure out what I’m doing next. What I’m doing tomorrow. But I wait till the door is closed, before I finally move, and climb onto the bike. I had told Lou I would bring it back an hour ago, so I feel like he’s going to chew my ass out for being late.

  But nothing, not even an angry burly man waiting for me at home, is going to wipe the smile off my face.

  Chapter. 10 – Riley

  As soon as I close my front door, I hear both my Dad, and Savannah rushing to me. I kinda wish I had a moment to decompress, lean against the door, and smile at everything that’s happened tonight - but my Dad is standing right in front of me, and I look up at him, daring him to say something. He doesn’t disappoint, “You’re not seeing him again, Riley.”

  He scowls, and I chuckle, “You can’t stop this, Daddy.”

  Savannah places a careful hand on his tricep, and I can see it flinching at the intrusion, but somehow he doesn’t jerk away from her. She glances at me for just a moment, before looking up at our father, “She could have done a lot worse, Dad.”

  Not a ringing endorsement for Avery, but I’ll let it slide if it means I can crawl into bed in the next five minutes. He grumbles his reply, “She could have done better.” Ugh, I don’t want to argue Avery’s merits - simply because sadly, I only can speak of how he makes me feel: sexy, and important. And how gentle each touch has been with me so far. It’s such an unfamiliar feeling, that all I want to do is go to sleep, so I can hurry the morning along, and snuggle with him in the corner booth at the diner. But no, I can’t speak on his merits as a person, or mate, just yet. So I need to just move this conversation a long, before he tries to dig any deeper, “I’m heading to bed, I’ll see you all -”

  My Dad shoots me a look, he’s pushing against my alpha-like personality, and I feel the need to bare my neck and submit. But then I think of what it’d mean to let my Dad control what happens next. He’s got werewolves coming in sometime next week, and he’s praying that I’ll mate with one of them - he doesn’t get, that Avery is it for me. I know it, Avery will soon know it, and my Dad needs to accept it. So I try again, “I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

  Savannah, who never let go of him, pulls him backwards a little with her, and I go off to the side, hurrying myself along the dining room, then the kitchen, then to my room down the hall. I shut it before either of them tries to talk to me more. It’s quite the damper on such a wonderful evening, but as I settle into the bed, my thoughts instantly go to Avery: his blonde hair, his almond shaped blue eyes, his fingers on my skin, the way he cupped my breast in that alley . . . I pull the cover up to my chin, and rub my legs together so tightly, that I can feel the wetness between my legs.

  I wish he was here.

  The Next Morning

  Even though it’s only eight hours later, by the time I sit in the diner the next day, it’s all I can do but cling to the vinyl cushion underneath me, to prevent myself from jumping into his arms, as soon as he walks through the door. Avery looks down to the right first, before turning his face to the other side, and almost instantly catches me sitting in the last possible booth, right beside the large window. I didn’t think he could get any cuter, but he looks more relaxed this morning. Instead of slacks, he’s wearing jeans. The light blue button up is rolled up to his arms, sho
wing off the lean muscle coating them. He’s wearing converse sneakers, and his gelled blonde hair from last night, is washed and tied back in a small bun. Here I thought he might be a bit of a stick in the mud, but as he walks to me, I’m starting to think he’s a closet nerd, who isn’t bothering to hide himself anymore - at least not with me.

  “Sleep well?”

  My legs clench together again, wanting to get lost in that voice. I bite my bottom lip, and answer honestly, “Not at all.”

  He looks a little surprised, and smirks, “Why not? Your Dad didn’t keep you all night trying to convince you not to come this morning, did he?”

  I shake my head, “No, I - I just missed you.”

  I don’t know why I feel so equally comfortable, and vulnerable all at the same time with him. Just last night, I was tongue wrestling with the guy, and this morning, with his beautiful eyes staring down at me, I want to roll myself into a ball, and crawl into his lap. I’m brazen, but reserved. I’m horny, but all I want to do is talk to him and learn everything I can. I don’t want small talk, I want the nitty gritty of who he is as a person. What scares him? What makes him get up in the morning? Does he have any sort of faith? Does he want a family? Does he want me - longterm?

  He glides into the seat across from me, and reaches his hand over the table. I instantly take it, and let out a deep relieved sigh, when he says he missed me, too.

  We’re interrupted when a waitress comes over to take our order, but we just ask for hot chocolate, seeing as we both kind of feel like talking, and for now food would just get in the way. When she taps her pencil against the pad, I get the sense she’s grateful that she’s not being bombarded with orders, since the day has barely begun for most people. In fact, most of the diner is empty, just a few stragglers coming off a night shift, and seeking some warm food before crawling back into bed.

  I wish I was crawling into bed with Avery.

  Suddenly, I feel his fingers grazing over mine. The soft fingertips, circling my knuckles, and I look up at him, feeling the slight flush coating my usual pale skin (well, pale for Georgia), “Part of me wants to sit here all day, and learn every little thing about you . . . “

  He smirks a little, and tilts his head back at me, “And the other part?”

  I lean in, just enough to lower my voice, in case the waitress manages to sneak up on me while I’m distracted, “The other part of me wants to rip your clothes off right now.”

  It’s his turn to blush, and he pulls his hands back away from me, dropping them into his lap. I want to argue that that’s the opposite of what I intended, that I want us touching each other in any way I can get - but then I realize he’s fighting the urge, too, because he’s rubbing his hands against his knees. As if he’s trying to distract himself. I really like the idea of being able to have this sort of effect on him, and I reach under the table, to take his hands right back, “Do you want me to?”

  He nods his head a little, before finally looking back at me, “I’m just - I’m pretty nervous about loosing control with you. I’m not used to not being in control.” He starts looking down, then over, “Well actually that’s not true. More like, I’m constantly trying to be in control.”

  I chuckle, and Avery doesn’t seem to be sure why, so I explain quickly, so he’s not lingering with any self doubt, “Hey, if you want to control anything, how about we book ourselves a room two blocks over, and I’ll let you pick which article of clothing I’ll remove first for you.”

  I shouldn’t be so bold. Everything that I know about males, is that they like to be in control, and admire the meek little women who doesn’t seem to know left from right. Not everyone is like that, sure, but Avery seems so far apart from any stereotype, that I feel utterly comfortable leading here. Besides, something tells me that if I let him take the lead, we’ll be moving at a snail’s pace. And I want to hurry up and wrap my legs around his waist pronto.

  He hasn’t said anything, but I catch the twitch in his jawline. The one where he bites the inside of his cheek, in order to stop himself from saying anything. But his racing heart is giving it away. The way his cheeks blush, the way his breath seems to quicken. He wants to.

  “Here ya go. Y’all enjoy it - stay warm,” the waitress puts the two cups between us, seemingly unaware of how close we were to leaving and heading out. I practically want to curse under my breath, because I’m certain I was about to have the man actually agree to a hotel room any moment now. She whips out the check, and leaves as quickly as she came.

  Avery and I just look at each other. Then laugh.

  “Or maybe we can just drink out hot chocolate for now?,” he says it so affirmatively, that I barely catch the question in the tone. He’d like to just sit here with me for now, and if that’s what he truly wants, then I’ll stay put. But before this day is over, I’m pinning this man underneath me.

  Chapter. 11 – Avery

  I keep telling myself that this is the right way to go about things. Talk to one another first, and focus on the details, and then fuck like bunny rabbits in heat. I wonder what position we’d try first. Would I be able to suck on those perfect tits a little, while my cock disappears inside of her? It’s the same damn thoughts that kept me awake all night - imagining her moaning my name, underneath me. I woke up practically humping my bed, but even though it should have been easy just to rub it out before heading to the diner; I instead, somehow, felt guilty about it. Actually guilty to use my hand for some relief, when I guess my body has decided that only she should be able to give me that from now on.

  I hope she’s okay with me deciding that she’s the only relief I’ll ever have again, because otherwise I’m going to have a serious case of blue balls.

  When she suggested she’d take off any clothes I’d tell her in a hotel room, it took everything in me not to carry her over my shoulder, down the street, grunting at anybody who would inquire just what the hell was going on.

  But now we’re sipping on hot chocolate, and I’m praying that this hard on I can’t seem to get down, will ease up enough so I can at least pay attention to what she’s saying. I must not be doing a good enough job though, because she catches me staring at her chest, and presses them against the table, so they threaten to spill out over the top of her shirt. My mouth instantly salivates, and all I want to do is slip my tongue across the pink buds underneath the fabric.

  My eyes shoot up to hers, and she looks as equally flushed as I am. I must look like a hound dog, ready to carry her off at any moment, but she doesn’t back away from me, so the least I can do is be honest with her, “Should I be frank?”

  She smiles, and nods her head, “Please do.”

  “I actually had every intention of just sitting here with you - spend the day getting to know you better, figure out what the heck is going on between us. But now, all I can think about is your offer, and I don’t know if I’ll make for a good conversationalist anymore.” She must have misunderstood, and think I’m leaving, because she instantly reaches out for me, and wraps her hands around my wrists. A human set of handcuffs, that warm me up instantly.

  She doesn’t say anything, just looks at me, then bites her bottom lip.

  I want to bite that lip, too - though I don’t know where that idea came from . . . “Riley, I’m not going anywhere. I wasn’t trying to bail. I’m saying, that I - “

  I don’t know how to be forward, or suave, or even say it out loud. Part of me is embarrassed, and even shy to admit how much I want this, too. But as her grip tightens around me a little, I finally look back at her, “I’d like to take you up on that offer.” And just in case I come across as a total perv, I quickly add the excuse, “In order to think straight again.”

  She grins from ear to ear, showing off those pearly whites of hers, “I want that, too.”

  I think she’s scared I’ll change my mind, because she’s practically dragging me out the booth. I reach into my right pocket, grab some change, and drop it for the hot chocolate, before she’s prac
tically yanking me out of the diner.

  I’ve never needed a hotel room before, so I have no idea where we’re going. Luckily, Lou wasn’t around last night to tear into me much, and since he had his own late night, he didn’t seem to mind me taking the bike out again this morning (since he wasn’t awake, for me to ask). We take the bike, instead of walking, but it’s only two blocks away and we’re there within minutes. I’m so nervous, that it gives me just enough time to convince myself this is too fast, that maybe I’m pushing her into this a little.