by Jayce Carter
He broke the kiss enough to move around the counter, the food forgotten. He’d make her eat afterward, after fulfilling the other need that danced in her eyes. He reached down, cupping her ass before lifting her.
The automatic wrapping of her thighs around his waist was his reward. The tightness of them, the way she slid her arms around his shoulders—it all had a possessive growl rumbling from his chest.
“Stockroom,” he demanded.
Claire nodded to the door behind them, though she took his lips in a desperate kiss again as soon as she’d done it. She slipped her tongue past his lips, delving into his mouth as if she could devour him.
Damn it. How had he thought he might not want to go through this again? He kicked the door to her stockroom shut behind them, the clatter when it slammed distant as he set her ass on a pallet. A grunt from her said he’d done it hard, but the civility he wore had grown thin.
He pulled her forward until she perched on the edge of the boxes, until her clothed cunt pressed tight against his straining erection. The growl that rattled from his chest increased at the friction and pressure.
“Can I have you?” He asked it against her lips, ready to drop to his knees and beg her. He wanted to feel her wrapped around him, to slide deep into her.
Her body tensed, a clearer no than her voice.
He grappled his own need, the wants that plagued him and demanded he have her.
“Okay,” she whispered, but he knew better.
Joshua shook his head as he tightened and released his fingers on her hips. “No. You’re not ready.”
She opened her mouth, and he could see the denial on her lips. She wanted to tell him she was because she wanted to be ready. He knew what it was about, though. Without her heat rushing through her, without that mindless lust, she wasn’t ready for sex.
Fine. He could enjoy her body without it.
He silenced her by nipping her bottom lip. “You’re not ready, sweetheart. I’ve got another idea though. Trust me?”
Even though she wasn’t ready to let him fuck her, the look in her eyes said she still believed he wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want. That gave him the strength to leash his own demands.
He unhooked her pants, taking them down along with her underwear when she lifted her ass. As soon as the clothing slid down, he got a whiff of her arousal.
He’d never tire of that smell.
Joshua pulled her to her feet, then bent her over it. He stroked a warm hand down her clothed back and grasped her ass in a tight grip. “Do you have any idea how good you look like this?” He released her, then landed a slap to her ass just to watch it shake.
She tossed a glare over her shoulder, but the sparkle there defied her denials.
Joshua only gave her a smirk before undoing his own pants. “Relax, sweetheart. I won’t fuck you.”
She took a deep breath before resting her forearms on the crate, and the trust required to turn away stole his breath.
He swore she’d never regret that trust.
Joshua wrapped a hand around his dick and stroked it, savoring the tightness of his palm, the moment he stared at…my mate? He tested the name, not on his lips yet but in his mind. Can I see her as my mate? Can I say that title again?
He let himself think about it, to see her as that in the safety of his own thoughts. He shifted forward, running his cock along her cunt without pressing, then fit it between her thighs. “Press those thighs together tight, sweetheart,” he demanded. “I’d normally need lube to do this, but you’re so wet, you’re dripping.” He waited after he said it, tested how she’d react.
Some women loved some light humiliation, some hated it.
A gasp, the tightening of her thighs then another rush of scent that said she enjoyed his words. His lips tipped up at that. Good. He loved words, loved taking apart his partner with his voice as much as with his hands and his dick.
With her thighs surrounding his eager length, nestled up against her mound so it pressed against her swollen clit, Joshua grasped her hips and rocked forward.
She let out the sweetest moan, hips angling for better contact.
“Good girl,” he praised as he slid into the tight space between her thighs slowly. “See? I told you I could take care of you even without fucking you. You’re so soft, so wet. When you’re ready, I’ll do this again, push you forward over something and fuck you. I’ll kick those feet of yours apart wide and slide into you. Will you be wet for me?”
She moaned wordlessly, her forehead against her folded arms.
Joshua paused, holding her rounded hips still so she couldn’t seek any pleasure on her own. “I want to hear your voice. I want to hear you say it. When I do that, when I fuck you, will you be wet for me? Say it, sweetheart.”
Her head turned so her cheek rested against surface of the boxes, her eyes shut tight. “Yes, damn it.”
“Yes what? You’ll get nothing until you tell me.”
“Yes, I’ll be wet for you.”
The filthy words from her, how foreign they sounded stumbling from her sweet lips, made his shaft kick in response, pre-cum escaping. Fuck, he might not last long if she talked like that.
He rewarded her by thrusting against her, lowering himself to ensure he ground hard against her waiting clit. Her hips shoved back at the same time, and the sight, the sensation, made him want to slide into her cunt.
But…her trust meant more than that, and he’d said he wouldn’t. Even though he knew damned well he could fuck her, and she’d enjoy it, it would erode some of the ground they’d worked so hard to gain.
So instead, he contented himself with her luscious body, with the softness around her hips, with the warmth and tightness of her thighs, with the way her pussy dripped and let him glide against her.
Her hips rotated, her nails digging into the pallet. Good. He wanted her out of her mind with desperation. But, since he’d not gotten to fuck her, since that part of him still roared to possess her, he pushed just a bit. He couldn’t get inside her, so he wanted something else. He needed something else.
“Tell me you want me,” he demanded of her. “Tell me you’re mine.”
He expected resistance. He expected coaxing to be needed, to pull the words from her.
Instead, on a voice so soft it could have been a purr, Claire whispered, “I’m yours,” before reaching back and digging her sharp little nails into his hip. “And you’re mine, too.”
That did it. He couldn’t have hoped to hold off after that. He fucked harder between her thighs like he could get inside her snug body with just that. When he neared his release, he pulled from that tightness, using a hand on her back to keep her bent forward, flushed and dripping cunt on display. He stroked his cock, spreading her wetness over his shaft until he came, aiming so he spilled across her folds.
That claim eased him, marking her, knowing she’d carry his scent. Even so, it wasn’t enough, not quite, not when she rested there a panting, shaking, disheveled mess.
So he kept the hand on her back and ran his fingers over her flooded entrance. He gathered his cum on his fingers, then pushed it into her. “You might not be ready for my cock, but this should hold you over,” he whispered into her ear, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck before fucking her with his thick fingers.
She came apart on his fingers, so fast he knew she’d been on the line already. She arched up, but his hand kept her flat, kept her still as he forced her orgasm to last, as he wrung each aftershock from her until she whined softly and shivered, unable to do anything else.
Finally, he pulled his drenched fingers from her, bringing them to his lips to lick clean.
Yeah, maybe he could think of her as his mate. This was a life that might just be worth having.
Chapter Twelve
The shop grew cold and empty after Joshua had left. He’d ensured she’d eaten, had his own food then offered a kiss and left her be.
Returning to her work and her routine confused her.
In fact, when Joshua had shown, she’d expected him to yell, to tell her she shouldn’t work there alone. She’d prepared for him to tear apart her life as alphas had seemed to do.
Instead, he’d fed her, listened to her, then bent her over and pleasured her until she was breathless and couldn’t move. Then, he’d left her to work. What was she supposed to think about that?
Even without knowing what she’d gotten herself involved in, they’d given her space. It was what she’d needed, a glimpse of the life she could have with them. It wouldn’t be her locked in a house all day alone, only paid attention to when played with. No, this was normal.
Nice.
And their numbers, programmed into her phone, gave her a lifeline. She could call them. She could pull her phone out if she didn’t feel well, and Kaidan would come. He’d pull her into a hug and run his fingers through her hair. Joshua would show, offer that charming smile and make her laugh.
And Bryce? Well, he’d tear apart anything that frightened her. Perhaps that was what frightened her the most about him.
The bell above the door rang, and she turned, expecting Kaidan, perhaps Bryce. Her lips had already pulled into a smile, ready to sigh that they’d showed with some flimsy excuse to see her.
Instead, a man she didn’t recognize stood in the doorway.
Her smile shifted into the casual one she gave to customers. “How can I help you?”
He stepped into the shop, a matching smile over his lips. The smile reminded her of Joshua’s, too wide and too friendly to entirely disarm her. “I was looking for a book for my sister.”
“Well, you’ve come to a good place. I can order anything I don’t have, assuming you don’t need it right away.” Guilt clawed at her for a moment. By the time the order came in, she wouldn’t be there, would she? She’d have already run.
Who would take care of ensuring his sister got her book? Who would check in on Ms. Cutwalter down the street, who insisted on watering her roses despite being ninety-two and unsteady on her feet?
The man came closer, hands in his pockets. “Romance, I think. You know, the whole millionaire secret baby novels.”
Claire brushed her hands over her pants before walking to one of the shelves. As she neared him, her steps faltered. One whiff told her. Alpha.
No matter how much progress she’d made, that scent was enough to cause her feet to stumble, for her chest to tightened and sweat to break out on her forehead.
He caught her arm when she did, releasing her the moment she’d regained her footing. “Careful.”
Claire moved away from him, not caring for his touch.
His scent upset her on some deeper level. It grated against her instincts, made her want to pull away. She’d felt it in the room with Kieran as well, had assumed it was because he was a monster, but it had happened again.
Was it her bond with the men? She couldn’t deny she’d felt a connection to them, but was this the start of a real bond? Was her body rejecting other alphas who weren’t hers?
Claire shook away the thought and reached for a book from the shelf.
Something set off alarm bells about his scent. Something about it made her uneasy, something beyond just the scent of an alpha. It was wrong. She knew the scent from somewhere, but couldn’t place it.
Maybe that was just her reaction to him because of her bond?
She took a small novel off the shelf, a bodice-ripper romance that should please any lover of such stories. She held the book out for him.
The alpha took the novel and flipped it over, gaze skimming the description. “Does this really work for women?” He huffed a soft laugh then continued in a deep voice, reading from the back. “‘Jenn doesn’t have time for a mate, or so she thinks before she meets her sexy, dangerous neighbor, Topher. Leave it to an alpha to show her the error of her ways.’” He lifted his gaze to hers. “Is that really what women want?”
Claire took a step backward, trying to get away from his smell. “Fiction isn’t what people really want.”
“No? I thought that’s what it was, wish fulfillment.”
“No.” Claire moved toward the register. “Fiction is about seeing the world differently. It isn’t that women want to meet a sexy, dangerous alpha right now so much as wishing they lived in a world where people like that existed, where it was safe to want that.”
“You don’t think they exist?”
The question had her hesitating. She’d have said no weeks ago. She’d have sworn alphas like that didn’t exist, that they were a fantasy fed to her by society so she’d settle down with one.
Except, when she thought about her boys, when she thought about Kaidan, about Joshua, about Bryce, she wondered if they weren’t those fantasies. Didn’t they fit into that vision? Not perfect, maybe, but didn’t they have so many of the traits she’d been promised but never found?
That wasn’t something to tell a stranger, so instead Claire rang up the book. “Five dollars forty-five.”
He reached into his wallet and handed a credit card over. Randolph Harker. “Call me Randy.”
Claire slid the book into a bag, then handed it over to him. “Nice to meet you, Randy.”
“No name, even? Ouch. Come on, have some pity on me.”
She didn’t want to give him her name, but Claire reminded herself she was being foolish. How many alphas had she dealt with over the years? Don’t engage, but don’t turn it into a chase, either. Nothing they liked more than a challenge.
“I’m Claire.”
His smile tightened, turning fake and tense. After a moment, it resumed its previous warmth. “That’s not a common name. It suits you, though. Thanks for the help and the book. I’ll see you around.”
She couldn’t shake the unease that had crept into her as he nodded, then left. Even when she stood alone in the shop, his scent infecting her space, she couldn’t help the way she wanted to shudder.
It had to be the bond. Was she really bonded, now? Could she leave them? Could she turn around and walk out on her males, could she go to sleep each night without calling out to them?
Claire went about shutting down the shop, unwilling to dwell. She’d do what she had to because she was a survivor. She always had to be.
But…she’d allow herself the chance to enjoy whatever it was until then.
* * * *
Kaidan stood by the door of Claire’s house as she gathered her things. “I did my best.”
She packed another book, then a notepad into the case she’d pulled down from a closet. “I know, but you’re not a woman. You have no idea the things I need.”
He leaned against the door frame, smiling at the way she packed her things. He’d felt a bit like smiling since he received her text, since she’d reached out and asked him to drive her to pick up things from her house.
He hadn’t been sure she’d contact them, that she’d choose to return to their house. She could have easily chosen to return to her house, decided she needed space.
Space was difficult to give her, but they’d tried.
And it had worked, if her response meant a thing. Instead of running, instead of trying to pull away, she’d wanted to gather her belongings to make herself more comfortable with them.
“So what is it you need that I forgot?” He followed her into her bedroom.
“You forgot workout clothing. I can’t run in jeans, you know. You also forgot pajamas.”
“I thought you’d sleep naked.”
The flush on her cheeks said she’d heard him, even if she didn’t respond. “You know, you only brought usable underwear.”
“Usable? As opposed to unusable?”
Claire pulled open a drawer of her dresser. “We both know Joshua would have only packed lace thongs and lingerie.”
“Joshua is a pervert. I wanted to make sur
e you were comfortable, and I didn’t think lace thongs would make you comfortable. Of course, if you’re packing them now, does that mean you’re more comfortable?” His gaze caught on something red, silk and small enough his cock took notice.
She quickly put the items in her luggage. “I never said that.”
“You don’t need to. Why are you so uneasy about the connection we have? The idea you might enjoy sex, that you might actually want sex shames you. Why?”
She froze, then slid the dresser shut so slowly it creaked. “Because I’ve seen too many omegas who have been hurt. It’s unfair for me to have this, to enjoy this, when so many others have suffered, are suffering. I mean, I know how terrible sex can be, what it can be like. How can I possible enjoy it?”
“So because someone else starves, someone you can’t do anything about you, you should fast? Why should you be unhappy only because someone else might be unhappy? Does your abstinence and denial help them? No? Then why?”
She crouched to zip the bag closed. “I guess guilt? I don’t deserve to be happy.”
That had him frowning. She didn’t think much of herself, did she? Didn’t think she deserved happiness, didn’t think she deserved anything. He wanted to spread her out on the bed and worship every inch until she understood what he saw, what she was really worth. He wanted her to see the survivor she was, see the giving heart she had, her courage.
How she could miss it, he didn’t know. Even if he didn’t know all she’d done, it was clear she risked herself to help others. She faced off against them repeatedly. She had more strength than she knew.
Instead, her phone rang, shattering the moment. She reached into her back pocket and pulled the phone out. Her body stilled the way it did when something was wrong.
“What is it?” He straightened, instincts on alert.
Claire slipped the phone back into her pocket, then stood, face blank. “Just some unfortunate news. I’m going to go get the last couple things I need from the bathroom, okay? Then we’ll head off?”
