Haze of Heat

by Jennifer Dellerman

  That knowledge was so provocative, so sexually stimulating that her body trembled with renewed hunger, even as the tip of his cock nudged the soaking entrance of her body.

  Mistaking her reaction, Porter froze, then leaned in close, pressing light kisses over her cheek and temple. “You okay?”

  The question came from a throat too rough and thick to be totally human, yet the concern was most assuredly real. The sound was shockingly arousing, her body falling prey once again to vicious need. Though her juices flooded his cock in invitation, he remained stubbornly still.

  She wrapped her arms around his torso and ran them over the defined muscles on his back. “I’d be better if you were inside me.”

  His large body shuddered. “You shouldn’t say such things,” he gritted out against her neck, giving the hot flesh a nipping reprimand before his tongue came out to soothe the small hurt. At the same time he breached her body, his cock a slow and careful glide past tiny muscles that clenched around the sensual penetration. “You’ll make me lose control before I’m ready.”

  The way his thick shaft stretched her made her gasp and arch beneath him. “Oh. But it’s okay to make me lose control before I’m ready?”

  He withdrew slightly, pushed in deeper. His lips were at her jaw, kissing and nuzzling. “I want to watch you lose control again and again. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  He thrust again, harder, deeper, filling her with his heavy erection, building the lust higher, stronger and hotter than anything she’d ever felt before. She raised her knees, set her heels on his ass, and urged him to go faster, her sex clamping like a vise around him.

  A snarl left his lips, and then he began to move, driving harder into her welcoming flesh, his hips pistoning, his mouth back on hers, tongue thrusting and taking as he took her body.

  The pressure low in her belly widened and grew until she felt overwhelmed by the need to grasp what was just out of her reach. With her own moan of desperation, she tilted her hips so his cock rasped right over the rough patch of her g-spot. She ripped her mouth from his, dragged in air on a hoarse gasp.

  He angled his body slightly, creating an even better friction over sensitive tissue. His fingers slipped between their sweating bodies, past the short patch of curls, to stroke her clit. Lips widened over her breast, his tongue pressing a pebbled nipple to the roof of his mouth to suckle and taste. She strained around him as he touched her everywhere, creating a firestorm that had her heart hammering, her breath faltering, her body—

  Stiffening as she came, shuddering as pleasure exploded. Her toes curled, her fingers clenched his thick hair in a death grip.

  Porter growled, his jaw like granite against her temple as he continued to thrust. Her body rocked with aftershocks, or maybe mini-orgasms, but the haze of lust was finally starting to clear from her eyes so that she was able to watch and feel, transfixed, as Porter’s muscles went taut above her. His cock jerked as his own orgasm took him over. Head back, his mouth parted as a deep rumble reverberated from his chest. The strong cords in his neck stood out in sharp relief, and she felt her teeth ache with the urge to bite down on them.

  How...odd.

  After several moments passed and his thundering heart mellowed, Porter raised his head and brushed the side of her nose with his. Then he kissed her with a gentleness that made her eyes smart. She squeezed them shut, conflicted. She’d expected him, an experienced charmer and lady killer, to roll away once he’d gotten what he wanted. Instead, this powerful shifter was drowning her in tenderness. As if she mattered to him.

  And maybe you do, a voice whispered in her head.

  If only she were that lucky.

  And dammit, when did she become so neurotic? It was sex. Fabulous sex, to be sure, but why was she getting all emotional over a little post-coital affection? Let. It. Go.

  He broke their kiss and looked deep in her eyes, his cock still lodged in her moist sex. His mouth opened, then shut. Then he smiled, a glowing grin that lit his eyes. “I’m speechless.”

  Just go with the flow, she warned herself. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”

  “Oh, it very much is.” Another kiss, hard and brief. “And as much as I hate to do this, I have to go take care of something.” He carefully separated their sticky bodies, damp from passion, and rose from the bed. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  Unconcerned at his nudity, Porter walked toward an open door that led to a bathroom. A flash of heat swept through Rachel at the utterly masculine strength of his backside. Then the door shut and she snapped out of the carnal trance. Annoyed at the both of them, she scowled and searched for her clothes.

  “Who does he think he is? Telling me not to move, dragging me here, ordering me not to go anywhere…” Trying to recall where her shorts might have landed, she leaned over the foot of the bed, found them on the floor, partially hiding his shirt. She paused, picked everything up, considered. She didn’t want to be naked when he came back. It wasn’t that she felt vulnerable naked, necessarily. She just didn’t want Porter to think she was the clinging type. Hanging on when she was no longer wanted.

  Not that she knew he would think that, but given his looks and personality, he’d probably come across more than a few women who weren’t ready to let him go.

  Ack! And she was doing it again. His past was the past and let the damn thing die a miserable death. She had him right now and she was going to have an extremely enjoyable right now. It wasn’t the mating heat, only extremely hot physical attraction, which was a good thing. Right?

  Snarling at herself, Rachel leapt from the bed at the sound of a flushing toilet and stalked out of the room, talking all the clothes with her. She found another bathroom and made use of it, along with a washcloth to rinse off the dried sweat. A shower would be best, but her skin still smelled like Porter and she wasn’t ready yet to lose that small connection, as dumb as that might seem. But again, she wasn’t going to analyze it. She was just going to go with it.

  Dressed in her panties and shorts, his shirt covering her torso because her bra and top were in some office somewhere, she opened the bathroom door to find Porter leaning on the wall across the hall.

  At least he was no longer naked. Shame, really. Ahem. Though wearing only jeans did little to make her feel any less googly-eyed. No. Those were fixed on the hard plane of his smooth chest, then lower to drink in those luscious muscles carved into his abs. Abs she hadn’t taken the time to know and touch.

  And taste and lick.

  Though he had no hair on his chest, a smattering started just under his navel and narrowed down past his waist. And she knew all too well what lay under those jeans.

  “Rach.” Her eyes jumped to his face.

  “Yes?” She refused to feel guilty for staring. If he hadn’t wanted that, then he should have dressed. Completely. In a brown sack enshrouding him from head to toe.

  “Going somewhere?” His face was deceptively blank.

  “Hmm.” She walked past him, looking for and locating the office two doors down. “I need to get back to work.” Slipping her arms through the sleeves of his shirt, she put on her bra, stripped the tee off, and donned her own.

  His hand encircled her wrist before she could reclaim her hair-clip and she glanced up at him in surprise.

  “So, what? I was just some temporary amusement? A screw with the stable boy?” His tone was so brittle it threatened to shatter and take her out in the process.

  Immense shock had her mouth falling to the floor. “What?”

  Fury flared in those dark eyes. “An adventure. Something to make your life more interesting. That’s what you said you wanted, right? Well? Was I interesting enough for you?”

  Wait. What? He was—insecure? Him? Porter Felix? The gorgeous charmer? The walking sex pot? Insecure? About her?

&
nbsp; After all her own insecurities, the irony caused her to do the utmost relationally incorrect thing imaginable. She started to laugh. A little snicker first, and then it all came spurting out in great belly-shaking waves.

  “You think this is funny?” His thick grumble was all indignant male, and it made her laugh until tears streamed from her eyes.

  She was shaking her head, choking out words past the maniacal giggles and fell onto the chair in front of the desk. “No. Want. To. I. Cling. Type.”

  His brows beetled as he tried to make sense of her rambling. “You didn’t want me to think you were the clinging type?”

  Gasping for air, Rachel gave him a thumbs up.

  “That’s why you were leaving?”

  She nodded, managed to say, “You left me...last night.”

  “I thought it better to leave,” he said in a reasonable tone, “than you caught in a private and compromising situation with me.”

  Breathing through her mouth, she settled her eyes on him. “So you weren’t embarrassed to be seen with me?”

  “Of course not!” His sigh was long and low and he moved to crouch in front of her, taking her hand in his and laying them, joined, on her knees. “I like you, Rachel. A lot. I even came back early because I missed seeing you, and no,” he added at her look of disbelief, “those aren’t just pretty words. It’s the truth. Being with you is a privilege, not an embarrassment. Why on earth would you think otherwise?”

  Her heart tumbled, falling just a little in love at that moment. “Put it down to misjudgment.” She tried a hesitant smile.

  He kissed her, soft and sweet. “No more misjudgments, okay?” At her nod he added, “And this is when you tell me you like me too. So much. In fact, you’re fascinated with me. Adore me. Can’t stand to be away—”

  She shoved her forehead against his. “Idiot.”

  His grin was as bright as the sun and as wide as the endless sky. “Hopeful idiot.”

  When the phone rang behind her, she jolted upright.

  Porter groaned. “Now what?” He reached for and checked the readout. “What’s up?”

  Rachel could hear Melinda’s anxious voice over the line. “Is Rachel with you?”

  His eyes shot to Rachel’s questioning ones. “Yes.”

  A slight pause, then, “Good. Both of you need to come to my office. There’s a package here for her.”

  “Why do you sound worried, Mom?”

  The whoosh of heavy air. “It’s addressed to Evangeline Sterling.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  When Rachel and Porter stepped into the open office door, her eyes landed on an oblong cardboard container on top of the desk. She didn’t have to be near it to know who it was from. Not if it was addressed to her fictional heroine.

  “It came via UPS about thirty minutes ago along with some other packages for the house,” Melinda explained, displeasure hardening her mouth into a firm line.

  “Did you recognize the delivery guy?” Porter asked, glowering at the package.

  “It was George,” Melinda confirmed. “When Annie saw whom it was addressed to, she immediately contacted me.”

  Rome entered the office at that moment, shutting the door behind him. As he strode past Rachel and Porter, he paused, his dark eyes about as warm as an iceberg. He inhaled slowly, switching his flat gaze from Porter to Rachel and back again.

  Rachel couldn’t even drum up a silent curse, realizing instantly that the older shifter was scenting sex on the air. Then again, it wasn’t any of his business if she and Porter wanted to wrestle around naked all day long. They were both single adults, and right now there was something more important to worry about.

  Porter evidently thought the same because he deliberately placed himself in front of Rachel, blocking her from Rome’s sight. “Problem?”

  It was a gritty snarl straight from the throat of his beast. Rather than be irritated at the overt display of protection, Rachel felt a warm glow in her belly. Laying her hands on his back, she went to her tiptoes and peered over Porter’s shoulder.

  “Nope.” Rome inclined his head slightly at his younger brother before fixing his eyes on Rachel. “It was shipped directly from a UPS Store in New York.” His tone was that of a leader, solid and commanding. “A quick, cash transaction. Cops are going to check video surveillance, but I doubt that will help. If this guy wore a plumber’s outfit to get into your apartment, chances are he disguised or hid his features from the store cameras.”

  A dead end. Moving to Porter’s side, she stared once again at the innocuous box. “How did he find me?” She looked first at Melinda, then Rome, then Porter. “I haven’t paid for anything and you said all my belongings were clean.”

  A muscle ticked in Porter’s jaw. “I don’t know, but when I find him I’m going to rip him apart.”

  Which did nothing to make her feel safe and cozy at the moment.

  “You going to open it?” Unlike Porter, Rome was all cool control.

  Rachel shook her head and wrapped her arms around her body. So cold now from the inside out, she shivered. “No.”

  “Then you won’t mind if I do.” Instead of reaching for a pair of scissors, Rome raised his right hand, and a single claw popped free.

  Rachel jolted in surprise, and Porter was immediately at her back, his hands on her shoulders. “You okay?”

  She didn’t know what she was. Dumbstruck, maybe? “I didn’t know you could do that.”

  “Do what? Partially shift?” His thumbs rubbed long, massaging strokes into taut muscles.

  “Grandpa can’t.” Her eyes were glued to the way Rome meticulously sliced through the packing tape with that sharp talon. “Of course he’s the only one I’ve seen in his feline form, and that was a long time ago.”

  The soothing motion stopped. “What?”

  “You forget, I’m not part of a pack, Porter,” she reminded him. “I don’t see this kind of thing on a regular basis.”

  His lips pressed against her temple. “I would have thought with your feline curiosity, you would have sought out more of your kind.” A soft brush of his nose along the shell of her ear.

  A logical assumption, but not one she’d embarked on until she’d needed help, and been rebuffed. “I did. Only to be given an ultimatum from the pack that exiled my aunt as a traitor to her kind.”

  Fingers dug into her shoulders, making her wince. “Sorry.” The pressure eased into a kneading caress. “That alpha’s another asshole pissing me off. I hope you know neither he nor his pack represent the species. Cats might be dangerous and territorial, but we’re also protective. And very, very affectionate.” A gentle roll of his hips set his elongating affection over her bottom. Heat swirled in long, languid pulls, chasing the chill from her blood.

  “Strange.” Rome’s comment yanked her back from a slowly rising sexual haze and to the awareness that two other people were still in the room.

  Focus, she chided her wanton half, frowning at how easily Porter could quicken her libido. Shoving all naughty thoughts into a small compartment, she looked at the secondary sealed box Rome pulled from the packing peanuts.

  “Not really,” Melinda offered, her hands resting on the back of a visitor chair. Though she appeared relaxed, her fingers dug into the leather. “Extra protection to guard against leakage.”

  Sadness covered Rachel’s heart. She hated this. Hated that some creep could affect so many. And just as she did at the hotel when he’d found her there, she’d do again. She’d leave.

  To take her mind off that depressing decision, she asked Porter, “Can you do that?” That being the way Rome opened the second box in the same manner as the first.

  In answer, Porter draped his arms over her shoulders and opened his hands, palms down. Claws shot out from the tip of each finger. “
It’s all about control, baby.” The rough edge of his voice smoothed into a thickly suggestive drawl. His heat and scent surrounded her, a sensual cushion that had her sex tingling in desire.

  So much for the strength of that compartmental box. It had nothing on Porter’s ability to make her body dance to his tune. Added to that, her body knew his now, and it wanted to reach out and embrace him, and never let go.

  “Or in your case,” Melinda chimed in, “it’s all about showing off.”

  At that moment, Rome set a clear vase on top of the desk, drawing everyone’s attention. It held three roses; one red, one yellow, and one white. The sight made her want to scream in frustration. As if sensing her distress, Porter’s claws retreated and he soothed his hands down her arms.

  “You or me?” She jerked her gaze from the flowers to the plain white envelope dangling by the corner from Rome’s fingertips. As she had no desire to touch with a ten-foot pole anything sent by a fanatical loon, she indicated Rome should go ahead.

  From his back pocket he pulled out a pair of light-blue latex gloves, snapped them on, and flipped open the flap. Out came a nondescript card he opened.

  “My love, my life, my everything,” Rome read. “Our journey has been long, our trials fierce, but we have overcome the obstacles keeping us apart and soon, so very soon, my darling Evangeline, we will be together again. Forever.”

  Bile rose and Rachel thought she might throw up. “I’ll leave tonight.”

  “Fuck that,” Porter swore, anger honing his voice into a razor. One muscled arm circled her waist, the other crossed her upper chest, chaining her in place. His mouth came down on her shoulder and nipped sharply at the exposed flesh. “You’ll stay right here.”

  His actions were indisputably dominant, possessive. Unyielding. The straw that broke the camel’s back. Sick of men trying to steer her life—first Larry the stalker, then Rand the asshole alpha, and now Porter—Rachel’s temper erupted and spewed free before she could put a cap on it.