“So, how’d it go?” Melinda asked.
“Guy in the mail room. Rome’s handling it. Rachel’s staying with me. Can one of you walk her over to my place in an hour? I need to get out.” Meaning he needed to run, and run hard.
“Of course.” Andreas leveled his eyes on his son. “I’ll take her.”
Remembering his outburst in the corral, Porter nodded, eyes downcast. Though the mating heat still fired his blood and made him dance on the thin edge of insanity, he knew he could trust his mate with his father. “Thank you.”
Once outside, he nearly lost his grip, feeling the jaguar flickering under his skin. He couldn’t shift yet. Too many guests, too many potential eyes that might glimpse something they wouldn’t understand in the dimming light. Finally reaching the backside of the barn, Porter stripped and let go, feeling the familiar snap, crackle, and pop that brought the pleasurable pain of the change.
The trees were plentiful behind the barn, but it was the reserve he longed for. A half mile in the forest, he came to a halt, growling at the black metal pad attached to the fence. It linked to a self-closing gate that would only open to an approved paw. A hand scan for cats. Damn security features.
Swiping a paw across the pad, he waited impatiently for the light to change from red to green. As soon as the gate rolled open enough, he slipped through. To the jaguar’s senses, the scents were stronger, lusher, the sights more vivid. With a menacing roar, he leapt forward and ran full out. He brushed past trees and shrubs, ignored the rustling animals that scurried away at his ground-eating flight. Paws pounded the hard earth, the sound like a second heartbeat that soothed his cat’s wild soul.
Sometime later he paused, panting, and looked up at the night sky. Gauging the time by the moon’s position in the early evening, he twitched his tail in anticipation and turned back.
As he approached his home, he saw his father at the open door. Andreas turned to watch a large, sleek cat bound up the steps.
“Safe and sound,” his father told him.
“Sorry. What did you...oh!”
Porter sauntered inside on all four paws, under the wide eyes of his startled mate. Only his ears twitched when his father departed, and then they were blessedly alone.
“Wow. Porter. At least, I’m assuming it’s you.” She took in a lungful of air through her nose, grinned. “You smell the same as you do when you’re in human form, only more...wild.” Without fear—and didn’t that please him on the most basic level?—she circled him. “You’re gorgeous. Even prettier than Santos.”
He opened his mouth, flashed his gleaming teeth, and let out a growl.
Rachel laughed. “I saw him in the trees this morning after we all came out of the cave. God. Was that only this morning?”
She sighed. Then frowned. She stopped in front of him and crossed her arms. “That reminds me. I hear Ria saw you naked.”
With his cat’s mind in the forefront, he saw no problem with that. She’d seen him after a shift. Shifters were naked after a shift. So what could Rachel possibly have an issue with?
“I know I can’t shift, but even if I could, I take it you’d be fine with Santos seeing me naked.”
Hell, no! And that’s exactly what his foul roar morphed into when he shifted from cat to man. “Hell, no! Then I’d have to rip his eyes out.”
“Lovely picture.” She adjusted her weight, stood with one hip out, looked him over. When she raised her eyes back to his, her brows were lifted as well. “Shifting arouses you?”
He looked down at himself, grinned. “No. You arouse me. Come here.”
She cocked her head, paused as if considering, and then lifted a finger. “Wait. I have a better idea. Stay there and don’t move.”
“Why?” Her smile was somehow serene and naughty at the same time and it made his dick bobble.
“Because you’ll like it. Now, look at the blank TV screen and don’t move.”
Wanting to gnash his teeth at the order, he dropped his chin, and then noticed he could vaguely make out her movements behind him via that blank screen. Though the image was distorted, he saw her rummage in her purse, and then slip out of her clothes.
Halleluiah!
But when she returned, she did so at his back. “Ready?”
The husky note in her voice both excited him, and made him very wary. “Yes.” But he was an alpha shifter. He could handle anything she dished out.
Suddenly her arms snaked from behind. One hand rested on his abdomen, the other, without any forewarning, wrapped around his jutting erection. A shudder rocked his body. “Tighter.”
Squeezing, she stroked him from root to tip. “Like that?”
“Yes.” A long hiss as her soft lips pressed along his back.
Amazingly enough, it was a new experience for him, and so fucking erotic, seeing only those slender hands vising around his cock, not only from his perspective, but from the dark mirror. His hips instinctively rolled into her touch, eyes fluttering as blood rushed from his head to thicken his erection even more.
Tiny teeth scraped the skin on his back as she continued to boldly stroke his length, making him shiver at the rough play. Her thumb moved over the engorged head, pausing at the bead of moisture at the tip. Rubbing the pad of her finger through it, she proceeded to draw lazy circles around the slit, making his eyes roll into the back of his head.
Before he was even close to done, she let him go, and then moved around him, following, down to her knees, the pillow she dropped at his feet.
She was naked but for the black-rimmed glasses on her face.
“Rachel.” He groaned out her name like it was the most succulent of treats. Part of him wanted to caution her about her sore knees. The other part, actually the majority of him, was slapping mental chains on his innate need to tend.
With unwavering attention, Porter watched, transfixed, as Rachel opened her mouth and licked the crown of his dick. His whole body jerked. Murmuring in appreciation, she once again circled the slit, this time with the tip of her tongue. Tasting him. Wet, damp darts that had his thighs clenching, his blood smoldering. Then she flattened her tongue and rubbed the sensitive spot just under the plump edge.
Huffing out a breath, he laid one hand gently on her head, his body vibrating with anticipation as her lips widened and slowly drew around his aching flesh.
“Aahhh. That’s it, sweetheart. Take me in.”
She enveloped his erection with one hand at the base, stroking up and down his hard length in time with her mouth. The other clutched his thigh, warning him to remain still. His jaw locked tight. It was difficult, so damn difficult, not to plunge deep, seat himself as far as she could take him.
With his free hand, he pushed her hair back and watched, mesmerized by those lushly parted lips sliding over the hard length of his cock, her self-proclaimed librarian spectacles perched on her nose.
The sight aroused him to madness, and the way she was milking his cock felt so damn good.
With quick flicks, her tongue danced and twirled around him with every retreating glide. Then she would rasp her teeth over his throbbing flesh with every return.
Harsh growls of pleasure ripped from his throat. “So fucking hot. I love the way you suck me with your pretty mouth.”
Then she did something different. Tucking her lips over her teeth, she tightened around him, increasing the friction made by her glistening lips. Now she worked his cock with a different kind of pressure, one that spun the sexual tension clawing at him higher. The sweet suction of her mouth was heavenly torture, creating red-hot streaks of lust to scorch his overtaxed body. Sweat slickened his back and he started to tremble. When his balls tightened in agonized pleasure, he knew he was going to explode.
“Only warning, Rach.” His body was so taut, on the cusp of orgasm, that his to
ne was as rough and jagged as gravel. “Stop now or I’m going to come in that gorgeous mouth of yours.”
But she only clamped eager lips around him impossibly tighter, sucking him infinitely harder. Watching her, watching the stretch of her lips as she accommodated his cock, he couldn’t miss the glint, the shift of her eyes—hot and aroused and wickedly pleased—as she peered up at him through those lenses.
That was it for him.
The tension coiled in his balls sprung free and, with his head back in a roar that echoed in the room, he came, emptying himself in his mate’s welcoming heat.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rachel woke to the second most wonderful smell in the world.
Coffee.
Her eyes flew open as memories of last night spilled through the haze of morning mind. Blinking, she deduced quite quickly that she was completely alone. Sitting up, she tossed back the sheet and swung her legs over the side of the bed before she realized all her clothes were in the other room. Déjà vu, anyone?
The difference this time from just a few days ago was the bond that held them together. Though still in its infancy, their relationship had forged mightily. It was a little scary, but Rachel was accepting Porter as her mate, and as such, her future would be one with him in it.
She was also going to accept Porter’s clothing as her own. Opening drawers, she found a pile of the Orchards’s embroidered dark tees and shrugged one on. Then she padded barefoot into the kitchen. From there she made herself further at home by filling a glass with ice and pouring coffee over it. The refrigerator had no creamer, but she took out the gallon of whole milk and dumped in a liberal splash. And then another for good measure.
It was as she was taking her second drink that Porter walked through the front door. “You’re up.” A warm smile lit his face. Then a quirked brow ruined it. “Iced coffee?”
She bared her teeth. “You haven’t seen me first thing in the morning. Be warned. No one gets between me and my coffee. That includes insults of any kind.”
His lips twitched. “Understood. Would you care to have a seat, my lady?”
She let him lead her to the kitchen table. She took a seat and another gulp of caffeine, feeling it course through her veins and spark some life into her brain cells. “Were you out taking care of the horses?”
“I was.” He leaned back in a chair, watching her, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Let me know when you’re awake and I’ll tell you what Rome found out.”
Like being dumped with ice water, she went from foggy to full-on wakefulness in a nanosecond. “I’m awake.”
“Thought you’d be. You know Rome’s been in touch with the detectives on your case ever since you arrived.” Porter was all business. “He called them last night with the information you gleaned from Daniels.”
“And they’ll take what he says seriously because he used to be ATF, right?”
Porter nodded, not bothering to ask where she’d heard it from. Melinda loved to talk about her sons. “That little tidbit does speed things right along. The cops were able to tag Larry Pisley last night at his home. He was packed for a trip. Had a ticket to Panama City.”
Rachel shuddered. “He really was coming here.”
“Well, now he won’t be going anywhere for a very long time. The cops figured they could hold him until Monday, what with it being the weekend and all, but when he started explaining that you and he were both secret agents, working covertly for the U.S. government to solve unsolvable crimes, that hold became permanent.”
Her jaw dropped. “Are you telling me he’s totally whacked? For real?”
“As twisted as a pretzel.” He leaned forward, dark eyes blazing. “They’ll put him in a loony bin, probably douse him with meds and lock the key. He won’t be able to contact you ever again.”
No matter what Porter had promised, she’d always had a smidgen of fear that her stalker would somehow get to her and she’d be too petrified to react. She might be stronger than human, but that didn’t make her any less susceptible to fear. Knowing it was over made her slump on the table in relief. “Wow.”
Porter watched her for several silent moments. “That’s all you got? Just ‘wow’?”
“Well, what else is there to say? Except, well, thanks.”
Obviously astonished, his voice was an octave higher than normal when he blurted, “How about ‘that’s wonderful’ or ‘I love you so much, Porter’? Or even ‘you’re the man’.”
His ego really was a fragile thing. Poor baby. She’d just have to make it up to him. With her head propped on one hand, she used a single finger of her other hand to scoot her iced coffee forward an inch. “I called my mom last night.”
His face slid into mutinous lines. “You said. I hope she knows you won’t be coming home alone.”
“Hmm.” Rachel slid her drink another inch across the table. “I did tell her about you.”
When she didn’t continue, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Aaaand?”
“And she said she’s always wanted a second home in Florida.”
At his visible confusion she added, “And she said to block out the B&B for the week of January nineteenth because we’ll be celebrating my grandparents’ sixtieth wedding anniversary here.”
The glass moved several more inches until it sat directly in front of Porter. He looked down at it, then back to her. “So what are you saying? Exactly. Use small words and be very, very clear.”
She stared up into his guardedly hopeful eyes. “I’m saying that no one comes between me and my coffee, except the man I love.” His mouth moved, but he didn’t make a sound. “That you would leave your family, your home, sacrifice what you told me you wanted with all your heart just to be with me, well.” Her voice thickened. “That just blew me away.”
“Tell me.” His voice was urgent, his tone a husky rasp that blanketed her with need.
“I’ve never known anyone like you, Porter, and I would be an idiot not to love you.”
He grinned now, brighter than the morning sun streaming through the windows. Leaning over the table as well, he picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. “And we both know who’s the idiot around here.”
“I can deal with your idiotic moments,” she corrected, “as long as you never stop loving me.”
Rising, he helped her to her feet and kissed her with such tenderness, such passion, she fell in love all over again. “Never, amada. Te amaré para siempre. I will love you forever.”
THE END
Copyright Information
A Ravenous Romance® Original Publication
www.ravenousromance.com
Copyright © 2013 by Jennifer Dellerman
Ravenous Romance®
100 Cummings Center
Suite 123A
Beverly, MA 01915
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.
ISBN-13: 978-1-60777-566-9
This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
About the Author
Jennifer Dellerman is the author of several stories in a variety of genres including erotic and suspenseful romance and thrillers. At any time you can find her devouring just about anything in written form or weaving the fantasies dancing gleefully through her imagination.
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