The condom went lax in her fingers as Porter took advantage of her position, kissing and tasting the soft flesh of her back with single-minded purpose. There was one specific spot an inch below her neck, at the top of her shoulder blade that, when he flattened his tongue in a slow lick, she jumped and shivered, feeling an electric spark arrow straight down her back.
“What have I found here?” Male delight rang out at the discovery. When he did it again, her eyes crossed and her body spasmed as sharp pleasure zipped alongside her spine to explode in a mini quake between her legs.
“Your death if you don’t stop.” She tried to jam her elbow in his rib, but he trapped her in a fierce hug, snatching at the condom she held aloft.
Laughing, he kissed her again, right on her snarling mouth. “I like you.”
Gazing up into dark brown eyes encircled with a ring of greenish-yellow, she had a feeling that sentiment came from the jaguar rather than the man. But she didn’t have time to dwell on that possibility as, seconds later, he lifted her leg. Spoon fashion as they were, she felt his cock rub through her swollen folds from behind, a new and tantalizing experience that had her breath catching in her throat. He shifted, angling his hips, and thrust slowly into her sex.
A soft sound, part moan, part whimper, echoed in her ears. Tiny muscles clenched around his erection in eager acceptance. Hips bucking back to meet his every thrust, he stretched her, filled her, tunneling through sensitive tissue in a manner sure to drive her insane.
Tilting her body, he latched onto one silky breast with his mouth, his hips never ceasing rhythm as he drove in her again and again. Alternately, he flicked her pebbled nipple with his tongue, then suckled the creamy mound, honing her desire to razor sharpness.
“That’s feels good. So good.” She wanted him to know how much pleasure he was giving her. To know he was as vital to her as air. Air she couldn’t get enough of. Her breath came in ragged bellows. She clamped around him so hard she didn’t know how he could move, much less thrust into her with mind-hazing friction.
“Ah, fuck. Yes. Mi amada.” His voice was unsteady, his breath molten and serrated. The edge of his teeth grazed her neck and she trembled, poised on the precipice. “That’s it, baby. Squeeze my cock. Feel me filling you. Loving you.”
Greedy lust burned brighter, raking talons of ravenous need through every pore. Rachel became a creature of carnal instinct. Feeling her orgasm approaching, she strained for more, pushing back, impaling herself on his rigid cock, forcing him impossibly deeper.
Her hand fisted, opened, skimmed down her belly. Stopped. Fisted again.
“Do it.” A growling command. “Touch yourself. Stroke that pretty pink clit for me.”
Porter’s mouth was at her shoulder, licking and nipping the tender flesh. His eyes were glued down the length of her body, as if relishing the upcoming show. Wanting it, wanting him to watch, she slid her hand between her legs, opened her soaking folds with two fingers and thrummed the super-sensitive turgid nub. Yes! That was exactly what she needed.
“So fucking hot.” The dark whisper wasn’t even close to human, and when the two sharp points of his fangs pierced her flesh, Rachel knew his jaguar was in control.
And she lost all control.
The orgasm burst through in a crashing wave of violent pleasure, tearing a rough cry from her throat. She shuddered, shattered like spun glass, and was swept helplessly under by the intoxicating tide.
Porter was only seconds behind her, his coarse oath and sudden stiffness telling her without words he’d found his own release.
Breathing deep, Rachel lay still, savoring the afterglow of great sex, still cocooned in Porter’s embrace. A low sound, a quiet vibration, had her frowning. When she pinpointed the origin, she was stunned at first, and then thrilled beyond belief. Porter was purring.
That knowledge, that she could make him feel as content as he did her, had her snuggling closer. All too soon he would need to get up and take care of the condom, but right now they remained joined in the most intimate of fashions, and she planned to milk this moment for all it was worth.
“I think we should ask Trevor how he found out about the Orchards.”
When Porter didn’t respond right away, she craned her neck around to see him the best she could. His lips were pressed into a thin line.
“What?” It wasn’t an untoward suggestion.
“Talking about another man while I’m still inside you is hardly flattering.”
Oopsie. “Sorry. I’m sorry. It just popped in my head.”
“Really unflattering.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, Porter. You’re magnificent. So talented and strong. I’ve never had such powerful orgasms. You’ve ruined me for all men.”
He shifted, eased from her body and then slapped her on the butt.
“Ow!”
Crawling over her, he stood, glaring down at her prone form. “That’s right. And you’d better not forget it.”
When he left the room she rolled her eyes. It wasn’t as if she were fantasizing about another man. Questioning Trevor was logical, especially after what she’d found out last night. It wasn’t her fault she never got around to telling Porter when she’d gone out to see him.
Sitting up, she reached for her clothes, donning her bra and top in a jiffy. A glance at the DVD player in the entertainment center showed it was edging past dinner.
Gingerly she rose to her feet, keeping most of her weight on her left leg. It was as she slipped into her skirt that Porter returned. He didn’t appear any more pleased to find her clothed the moment his back was turned as he had yesterday.
“So?”
He folded his arms over his chest, emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders, the muscles that roped his impressive abs. “If that’s supposed to be in reference to speaking with Daniels, forget it. We don’t want to tip him off.”
Rachel mirrored his stance. “Trevor is not my stalker.”
Now his eyes went hot. “You don’t know that.”
“Uh. Yeah. I do.”
“Just because you like the guy doesn’t mean he’s not an asshole.”
Ugh! “Would you hush a minute? I know he isn’t because on the day of the break-in, he was at a book fair in Portland, Oregon.”
That didn’t even make him falter. “Just because he told you so doesn’t mean it’s true.”
This time she rolled her eyes in full view of his irritated gaze. “There’s a website devoted to the fair, complete with author and vendor listings and conference times. He, along with two other hotel and restaurant reviewers, was scheduled to speak on Sunday at two o’clock. The picture on the website clearly shows all three present and accounted for.”
He frowned. She could almost see the wheels turning in his head, that is if she could keep her eyes from drifting down to appreciate the sight of him standing there, buck naked. “Why didn’t you tell me this yesterday?”
“Because the first I heard about it was last night. I came outside to tell you after I verified it online. But, well.” She coughed. “It slipped my mind.”
By the look in his eyes, Porter was remembering exactly how it could have slipped her mind, especially since he’d had her plastered against a barn, her legs around his waist. And though he’d rocked her world only minutes ago, he appeared game to do so again.
“Anyway.” She held up a hand to forestall any potential and seductive approach, because she knew if he touched her, she’d burst into flames.
Thanks to the mating heat. Dammit. She had to finagle a way to bring that up. But not yet.
“Melinda said Trevor booked a room Thursday. I want to know how he found out about the Orchards and why the last-minute reservation.”
His head cocked to the side as he considered. “You think he might know som
ething?”
“I don’t see what asking would hurt.” Her shoulders lifted. “At this point I’m ready to try anything, Porter. I can’t stay here indefinitely. I do have a home, work, to get back to.”
Something else that didn’t please him in the least. “You’re a writer. You can do that anywhere.” He moved past her and reached for his jeans. “Have laptop, will travel.”
Since his back was to her, she raised both fisted hands and shook them in the air. Her voice, however, was as smooth as the finest wine. “I’m not made of money. I can’t afford to pay for my apartment, my utilities, and not live there.”
The muscles in his biceps rippled and he turned his head sideways, not looking directly at her. He seemed almost—unsure?
“Have you ever thought of moving? Away, I mean. To a different state.”
Struggling to keep her pulse steady was an effort in futility. This was it! “It would have to be a pretty compelling reason.”
“For love?”
Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. “That’s, ah, a pretty compelling reason.” Breathing heavily through her mouth, she pushed him where she needed to go. “As long as it really is love and not misconstrued lust. Which, during the mating heat, could be possible.”
Finally he turned, shirt bunched in his hands, and watched her through eyes so piercing they reached into her soul. “You figured it out.”
“Actually, no.” Her lips twisted in a sheepish smile. “I can be a little dense at times. Gwen told me. She thought I already knew.”
A tight nod. “How do you feel about it?”
Confused. Happy. Scared. Elated. She puffed out her cheeks. “I don’t know. It’s all so very sudden.” And wasn’t that about the dumbest thing she could have said?
Porter pulled on his shirt. “I understand.” He sat on the couch where they’d just had wild, debauched sex and casually tugged on his socks, his boots. “I just.” He paused, glanced up at her. “I want to be with you, Rachel.”
Mouth drier than dirt, she whispered, “I want to be with you, too.”
He nodded again, stared at the floor for several moments. “All right. Good. That’s very good.” Heaving out a breath, he looked back up. “I’ll do some checking, see if I can find some horse property around Asheville. I don’t know how far out we’ll have to live, but hopefully not too far from your family.”
Shocked to her core, she goggled. “You’d move to North Carolina? Seriously? Just like that?”
Face creasing into puzzled lines, Porter rose to his feet. “Of course.” He prowled over, cupped her face in his wide palms and kissed her. “I’m in love with you. I’d go anywhere to be with you.”
Goo. Melting into a pile of goo. She tumbled completely, irrevocably and all the way in love.
On the coffee table, his cell phone rang. A wry smile flirted over his lips. “Sounds like the dinner bell. Just think about it. Okay?”
Stunned at his selflessness, Rachel’s head bobbed a few times before she managed to say, “I can do that.”
Chapter Twenty
The phone call wasn’t the dinner bell. Rand Hensen had arrived.
“Did you really have to bite me? Again?”
Porter glanced down at Rachel, eyes zeroing in on the mark she’d covered up with makeup. Both marks, actually, as the one on the other side of her neck hadn’t completely healed yet. Not that it mattered.
“Yes. I really did. “ Because any shifter would be able to see past the concealer and know in an instant to whom Rachel belonged. “You’re mine.”
While that knowledge soothed his beast, as did the skin-to-skin contact via their linked fingers, the blatant attempt to hide his brand chapped his hide. Especially after telling her he was in love with her. Talk about an ego bust.
Then, while he’d waited impatiently, she’d done more. Her silky hair was twisted in some updo, exposing her vulnerable neck in a way that made him want to snarl. More makeup adorned her face. Tiny drop earrings swung from her lobes. She’d also changed into another one of those body skimming pants and a short-sleeved top.
“I’m not a possession, Porter. I’m my own woman.”
He paused at the base of the stairs, pulled her close so they pressed chest to thigh. Her sharp inhalation at the sudden move, coupled with the soft fit of her body against his, stirred his blood. “You can be your own woman all you want. Doesn’t mean you’re not my woman.”
One slim brow arched. “How very generous of you.”
Her scathing tone had him fighting a smile. “I’m a generous guy.”
“You’re also sadly mistaken if you think that kind of attitude is going to fly with me.”
Delighted with her, he grinned and kissed the disdain from her lips. “Only a little. But I do love how easily riled you get.”
She huffed. “Porter, this is serious.”
“I don’t disagree. That you belong to me is as serious as my love for you. As is the fact that I belong to you as well.” When she softened in his arms, he kissed her again. Gently. A tender manifestation of his conviction. “But what’s life without a little fun?”
“Dutiful.” An instant response that tickled him, especially as it was accompanied by a hint of frivolity in her emerald eyes.
“Boring.” He threaded their fingers once again and headed down the hall toward the living room, swinging their joined hands in carefree pleasure. “However, I do know when to be serious.”
“Without being arrogant?”
“Of course.” As they neared the front of the house, he erased every external sign of amusement. “See?” He pointed to his expression with his free hand. “Serious face.”
Rachel only rolled her eyes to the ceiling and he had to squelch the desire to chuckle. Just because he could be serious didn’t mean he couldn’t find and appreciate the amusement in just about any given situation.
As they approached the living room, Porter spied Santos, holding up the wall next to the arched entry, arms folded, eyes hard and vigilant. His eldest brother didn’t acknowledge them, keeping his unblinking attention on those who waited in the room.
Now that one was serious man. Though he’d thankfully loosened up some since mating Ria.
All joking was shoved aside as they stepped fully into the room. In less than a second, Porter sized up the newcomers. The male leopard shifter sitting on the couch was Rand Hensen, an ordinary-looking man in his mid-fifties with dark blond hair, a medium build, light skin, and brown eyes. One ankle rested on the knee of his tan slacks while the knee of his raised leg abutted the knee of the woman sitting beside him.
Relaxed in that carefree way confident women have, the sleek and well-dressed woman was his mate. Her skin was the color of creamed coffee and flawless. Dark hair crowned a face sculpted to chiseled perfection and was scraped back in a style that left tight curls to riot about her head like a halo.
The stunning whiskey color of her eyes and her skin tone matched those of the impressive male leopard standing in front of the fireplace on the other side of the room—far enough away so he wouldn’t be encumbered should a brawl break out, yet close enough to protect his alpha pair.
It wasn’t only his massive build or the cool intelligence in those clear eyes that had Porter’s senses on high alert; it was the energy contained in that muscled frame. Whoever this male was, he was more powerful than the alpha of the Greenleaf Pack. And, no doubt, the reason for Santos’s unwavering stare.
“Ah. There she is.” This from his mom, who sat across from Rand and his mate in an overstuffed chair, his dad hitched, deceptively at ease, on the armrest. Deceptively because Dad had placed himself between his mate and the shifter that stood at attention.
Seeing her in one of her many outfits that screamed feminine elegance, all tidy and neat, her movements pure grace, s
lapped him upside the head. What a kick in the ass it was to realize Rachel was a lot like his mother.
“Here we are.” He let go of Rachel’s hand and angled slightly in front of her. Too bad if she considered the position overbearing. It was a protective stance instinctual to the heart of the jaguar and the soul of the man. The feel of her fingers curling into his belt loop only eased the tension in his muscles a fraction. Because this outsider alpha had insulted his mate.
“Porter, this is Rand Hensen, the alpha of the Greenleaf Pack. His mate, Natalie, and his second, Shaw. My son Porter and, of course, Rachel.” His mother could be faced with a bloodthirsty mob of raving zombies and still she would follow proper etiquette. At least until they crossed some inherent line known only to her. If they were in her home, she would treat them as guests.
Porter wasn’t feeling as accommodating. “So what brings you to the Orchards? Had second thoughts on how you treated Rachel?” He had no compunction at displaying his contempt. Any alpha that rejected assistance—hell, any person, for that matter—to someone in need was on his piece of shit list.
Clearly Porter’s lack of finesse shocked everyone in the room. Though amusement flickered for a nanosecond in Shaw’s eyes.
Melinda coughed into her hand. “Yes, well. Porter’s usually much more charming than this.”
“Porter isn’t feeling charming right now.” Yeah, he was worked up enough he was talking about himself in third person. “He wants to know why the alpha of the Greenleaf Pack, who denied Rachel protection unless she did something completely asinine, is now in the midst of my pack. To see if she’s having second thoughts? Because I’ll tell you right now, she’s not going anywhere with you.”
Rand’s lips pressed into a thin line. “That would be her decision to make.” A not-so-subtle knee knock from his mate had his nostrils flaring, which in turn had his eyes morph from hot anger to surprise. “Evidently I’m too late.”
Haze of Heat Page 19
