by Carys Weldon
Hood’s gaze jerked over to mine. His fingers, I saw in my peripheral vision, dug into Giselle’s waist. Amber scooped up both the bouquets and passed Giselle hers.
She asked, “Where to now?”
“Look. Maybe I should take off. Go see a few friends.” I apologized in my own way. “Give you newlyweds some time alone, without my stupid thoughts intruding on everything.”
Frank said, “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea.” He looked at Hood, though. It was whatever the man wanted.
He surprised us, though, by turning to Giselle and asking her, “What shall it be, sweetheart?”
The bitch had a death wish. For all of us. That’s all I can say. Sweet as you please, melt in your mouth, she said, “It’s a wedding party. What fun is it if it’s just you and me?”
None of us breathed. At least, not until Hood moved. And that took a minute. He is a master of self-control. I could learn a lot from him. He took his time, then smiled slowly at her, and planted a kiss on her lips. “You’re absolutely right, of course.”
Frank said, “How about I arrange for a car, then. We can cruise the strip.”
“I’ll go with you.” Amber jumped at the chance to get the hell out of Dodge, and away from me, I guess.
“What do you want? Me to go or stay?” I looked Hood in the eye. My instinct was to chase after Amber. But I didn’t want to turn my back on Hood.
Giselle took the choice out of our hands. “Stay.”
And that, of course, pissed Hood off. He didn’t say anything, though. Just tightened his lips again. But she didn’t leave it at that. She turned to Hood, pouting up at him and said, “Why don’t you go make sure they get the right kind of wine. I don’t want to mix my drinks, or end up throwing up.”
Now, it would have been reasonable for either of them to ask me to see to that. Or to assume that Frank, as efficient as he is, or Amber, would think of that. Giselle’s taste in liquor seemed pretty set. Over dinner, she’d discussed preferences. Not that I’d really paid all that much attention. But she was pushing him. Forcing him to leave her and I alone for some reason.
And if he’d stayed, it would have shown an insecurity on his part. Some weakness or doubt. And Hood is nothing if not about appearances. Real smoothly, he said, “Sure.”
I watched him walk away. We waited in silence together. She turned to me, then, and teetered on her heels. I caught her and let her use me for a leaning post. Firmly, she said, “I do not want him to go near Amber ever again.”
I searched her eyes. There was desperation there. And I have to say, I had to love her for it. She was so in love with Hood that she felt pain to her core being over the thought of him cheating on her.
“Amber doesn’t really want to sleep with him. She told me so herself.”
“You have to stake a claim. Insist he keep his hands off.”
I held down a laugh. “Right. I’ll tell your husband to keep his hands off of a woman that gives him carte blanche.” I growled, “Why don’t you tell him to keep his dick in his pants. It’s not like you aren’t woman enough to entertain him.”
Her teeth ground together. Her eyes glittered. They watered. She started to shake. And she rolled into my arms. And I thought, oh, shit.
I held her up. I circled her with my bulk. And I cuddled her head to my chest. All the while, I looked around like a desperate man, thinking, I don’t want Hood--or Amber--to find us like this.
Giselle read my mind. She shuddered, sniffed, but couldn’t get control of herself. I heard myself crooning, “There, there,” to her, and stroking her hair.
She told me, her face still buried, “Barklay understood, you know. He...he helped me.”
“What? Helped you what?” I kind’ve pulled her head back, so I could look at her face.
Her whole body was pinned, and melted to mine. Not that I really noticed at the moment. But I’m sure it looked like we fell into each other’s arms the minute that Hood turned his back.
“I need protection, M--Mark.”
“From who?”
“Hood.”
“You just married him.”
With a thumb, I wiped a tear off her cheek. “Only because he made me.”
That had me frowning down at her. “You didn’t want to marry him?”
“No. I mean...”
Before she could explain, we felt his presence. Call it a prickling awareness. Our heads jerked in unison in his direction. We had no idea how much he’d heard. But, judging from the distance, he’d been close enough--if tuned in--to hear her say no to my question.
He had two magnum bottles in his hands. I remember looking down at the white-knuckled grip. It wasn’t that I was afraid of him. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Held his wife up while we waited. Comforted her for whatever she was crying about. But I sure felt guilty. Maybe it was guilty for knowing he’d made her marry him.
I read accusation, and disappointment, in his expression. Her body went rigid. I went to set her on her feet, away from me, but her fingers clung to my shirt, and she swayed back into me. Looking from him, to her, I asked, “What are you playing at, Giselle?” It was a whisper.
She lipped, “Help me. Please.”
I tried to read her mind, but it was blank. Amazingly, totally, blank.
Hood joined us. He didn’t say anything for a minute or two, and when he did, it was, “Thanks for holding her up.”
To Giselle, he said, “You’ve had too much, you know.”
It seemed incongruous, with him standing there, holding those two magnums. She pulled herself out of my arms, smoothed her hands down her sides, drawing attentions to her curves. We both watched as she got control of herself. Tugging on the upper part of her gloves, making sure she was straight and in order, she said, “It’s my wedding night. Who would blame me for getting drunk?”
For marrying you.
He flinched as if he’d been slapped. I thought I’d change the subject. I said, “You know, I really gotta say this...”
Hood turned on me, waiting, watching my body language, gauging my honesty.
I swallowed heavily. “Amber’s gotten under my skin. I don’t know why, either.”
“Is that so?” It came out as a drawl, no amusement attached. We endured some silence before he supposed, “Maybe it’s because she’s a good fuck.”
Giselle’s face was averted. She watched the direction that Amber and Frank had gone. She didn’t move a twitch when he said it. I felt sorry for her. I wondered how Bark had helped her deal with Hood. Or how anyone could help her, now that she was, for all intents and purposes, his property now. She rolled her shoulders and I guessed that she’d read my thoughts. Hood stood a little taller, too, as if the thought empowered him. Like he needed more empowerment.
I said, “She’s a total bitch.” I grinned. “I like that in a woman. Don’t know why.”
He asked, “You ever do straights?” Human women that didn’t shift.
That got a noncommittal shrug out of me.
“Bastets?”
I glanced over at him. Felt a little...microscoped. I didn’t answer him. And, in that, he had his answer.
He told me, “Your brother had a thing for cats.”
Was he trying to pick a fight? I didn’t say anything to that, either. I stared off, like Giselle, wondering what the hell was taking Frank so long.
Hood pushed me. “He started a fucking war.”
Now, I had an urge to roar at him. That wasn’t my fault. I had nothing to do with it. I was not my brother’s keeper. But that isn’t how garou shit works. I was my brother’s keeper. And I’d done a damn lousy job of it. And Hood wanted me to know that he thought so, I guess.
“Yes, well,” I said, “I guess it’s my job to clean up the mess. Isn’t it?”
“That’s what you’re good for.”
“I have people on it, too, you know.” I looked over at him. “We will get to the bottom of this. But you’ve hit it on the head, I think. It goes back to the cats.
”
Giselle flicked her hair over her shoulder. “There they are.” When they got close enough, she told them, “I thought you got lost.”
I thought it was my imagination, at the time. I smelled cat. My nose went up and looked around, in a full circle. Suspiciously, I narrowed in on Amber, and asked, “Where did you get off to?”
Chapter Twelve
“Where the hell do you think?” Amber was not in the mood, I guess, to answer my questions. She cold-shouldered me and said to Hood, “We were looking for a red stretch limo. with a sunroof. Something to compliment the bride.”
“How did that work out?” Hood handed the bottles, one to Frank and the other to me, and took a hold of Giselle’s elbow, propelling her forward, moving our whole party toward the door.
Frank said, “It’s waiting, of course.”
“Secure driver?”
Frank surprised me, then, with a teeth click of irritation. He rounded on Hood and asked, “What do you take me for, an amateur?”
“I take you for a Wolf.”
Meaning...a relative of mine, and Bark’s. The statement pissed us both off. And riffled Giselle’s feathers, too. Guess she really cared about Bark, and his reputation.
Hood took obvious pleasure in the reactions around him. And that had me contemplating his comment later. Dissecting it. Maybe he hadn’t aimed it so much at me and Frank, but at his pretty new bride. They were definitely a study in cat and mouse. I wasn’t sure who was which, though.
It was left for Amber to pick up the slack in conversation, to rattle off some commentary on, well, just about anything and everything we saw. She’s the one who insisted the wedding couple sit up top. And she’s the one who popped up and down, filling glasses. And tugging on legs. Cutting jokes.
She mesmerized me. Radiance in action. Even Frank and Hood loosened up after awhile. And I found myself stretched out on a seat, legs spread, thinking nasty thoughts about what was under her dress. And plotting a dozen ways to get under there to see.
And yeah, I didn’t bother to block thoughts. And nobody told me to shut the fuck up, aloud or otherwise.
Frank took a call and had the driver take him to drop him off. News to me, he had business to attend to. I didn’t care. I was glad to get rid of my conscience. To be left alone with Amber.
It never occurred to me that we drove for hours. Not until later. We must’ve buzzed the whole city more than once. Although the windows were down, I never looked out. I was buzzing myself by the time we got back to the Palace.
It was kind of funny...how long we rode around and Amber and I just stared at each other, thinking dirty thoughts, ignoring the couple up top--except for when she thought to see if they needed refills.
I’d disposed of my tie, and unbuttoned my shirt a few notches. And took off my jacket. As we pulled up in the valet area, I guess I dragged myself from my stupor to say, “You look real pretty in that dress.”
She looked down at it, and smoothed her fingers over the netting. It made her look young, and appealing. Very appealing.
The door opened. Hood dropped down into the car as I heaved myself out. I heard Giselle giggle, sigh, and I reached in, grabbing Amber’s hand, pulling her free. She hopped past me and Giselle came next. Hood passed her to me, actually. If I’d thought Giselle was drunk before, it was nothing like the three sheets she’d picked up in our sailing trip. Her knees buckled.
I laughed, “Stand up, ya little lightweight.”
She giggled.
Hood climbed out. The ride and tips had been pre-arranged. He scooped his bride up in his arms and commanded, “Get the door.”
But the uniformed man already had it, so I put a hand to Amber’s back and guided her after the newlyweds. Hood’s pretty amazing, as a study in manhood, I think. He didn’t break a sweat carrying her through an immense lobby. And he didn’t seem to notice the half a million stares they garnered. He had eyes only for Giselle. I don’t know how he knew which direction to go, or how he kept from tripping.
I hit the elevator button, and held the door for him, coming and going. And I opened the room once we got there. He didn’t waste any time taking her to a room. I’m guessing he figured he better get the consummation thing done before she passed out completely. I noticed that he chose door number three. None of the rooms we’d been in before.
Not that it mattered. Someone had come in while we were gone, and tidied things up. Amber flounced onto a sofa, kicked off her shoes and laid her head back. I dropped into a chair opposite her. Half drowsy-eyed, I contemplated how pretty she looked. I was beyond thinking about sex--just wanting to cuddle.
She looked like she was gonna pass out right there. Until she pointed her toe in the air and admired her nail polish. It made me grin.
But she popped up with an, “Oh, shit!” and pounced me, landing on her knees between my legs.
In a second, she had my pants unzipped and my cock out, demanding, “Get hard.”
I had been as flaccid and relaxed as a ton of alcohol can do to you. It had been a long day and we were winding down. But her intensity had me sitting up--though she pushed me back and went down on me. Believe it or not, I protested.
And Hood’s door opened with a banging slam against the opposing wall. My head came up. Both of them actually, as she sucked and he thundered into the room. Stomped, growling, “Amber!”
She...mewed.
I looked down at her head...in horror. Had she just mewed like a cat? Honestly, I tried to back up in that chair.
Hood growled her name again, commanding her to come to him. I know that’s what it was. I went to push her off of me, by putting hands to her shoulders. But I felt her teeth on my cock and I thought, as she had said a minute before, Oh, shit!
My hands went up in the air, like I was being held up. I said, “Hey!”
Marching right over to us, Hood put his hands on his hips. He had nothing on but his pants, and they were low-slung. His physique, totally, is hard muscle. Deep contours. He watched what she was doing, pissed.
And I tried not to let my eyes roll up in my head, but damn if she wasn’t sucking me hard and deep. I felt like a pawn on the losing side of a bad game of chess--about to be kicked off the board. Hood reached down and grabbed Amber by the hair. She didn’t take her mouth off of me, so that was a stretch complete with teeth.
Again, I said, “Hey!”
Her mouth popped off of me. She flashed him a laser stare and said venomously, “I’m a little busy.”
“She passed out.”
She hissed, “What do you want me to do about it?”
It was evident. He wanted to relieve himself in Amber’s charms. The minute it really hit me, I felt a gut reaction. It wasn’t because I was half through an incredible blow job, either. I’m telling you, when I fell for Amber, she completely wrapped herself around me, and my manhood.
Their wills clashed. I could see him...winning the battle. I saw her shrink a little beneath his gaze. He wasn’t going to ask. It was a given.
And, horrified, I watched it play out. Now, remember, they had a long standing understanding. I’d only met her that morning. He was my...superior. And I had never considered fighting an alpha, ever.
But my fingers, still on Amber’s shoulders, dug in. Hers, on my knees, dug back. I think she willed me to say something, to stop it right there. And, surely, Giselle’s teary eyed beg from earlier came to my mind. I closed my eyes on it, and them, and tried to center myself.
This was not my business. I had plenty of my own. Too many worries.
She got up.
I opened my eyes and watched as he pulled her into his arms and held her. I don’t know what I expected. Him to fuck her quick right there in front of me? That’s standard wolf behavior. Or him to be rough? We got into that sometimes.
But minutes of holding her...I know I wasn’t expecting that. I didn’t want to move. Though, I really wanted to be anywhere else in the world.
You can call me crazy, but I
felt Hood’s desperation. I knew my mind, my senses were playing tricks on me. I’d felt that more than once from him. And it centered on Giselle, every time.
Amber eased some space between them and cradled his face in her hands. She kissed him. She kissed him.
Turn the knife in my belly. Hit me with a rock. I don’t care if he’s the fucking world leader of Lobos International or not. I hated watching it.
He told her, “I just need to get off. That’s all.”
I put my cock back in my pants and stood up. “You and me both,” I said. Then I suggested, “Why don’t you do like the rest of us...and do your laundry by hand sometimes. It’s a whole lot less harmful.”
“What do you care who I fuck?”
I should’ve backed down. Any other day of my life, I would have. But maybe I was looking for a fight. I don’t know. Bulk wise, I had him. And I was Gaia-damned quick, I knew that. But he was legendary.
Amber put a hand out, stop style. “Don’t, Mark. You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t.” She had that right. “You told me you don’t want to be with him. So, don’t be with him.”
“Is that true?” Hood’s gaze, like a dart, went right through Amber, I think.
She said, “You know how I feel about it.”
“I thought we agreed. Sex is sex.”
“That was before.” She tossed her head.
“Before...?” Hood tipped his head, sparing a sideways glance at me.
“I met Mark.” Amber actually stuttered, “And, a-a-and...you got married.”
“You heard Giselle.” His voice dropped to a guttural level. “Fidelity means nothing to her. She’s a whore, for Gaia’s sake.”
That, apparently, pissed Amber off. “She’s your whore, Hood. She does your bidding. Every last bit of it.”
“Wrong. She does her own thing. Always has, always will.”
Amber pulled herself out of his grasp. “You’re blind. And deaf, too.”
