Damien’s Dilemma

by Cohen, Julie K.

  “If you say so.”

  With a rather loud thump, he set a glass of water in front of her. “I don’t like being called a liar.”

  “Then don’t lie.”

  He wanted to let out a growl, but she was right. He hadn’t exactly told her the truth. She let it drop, thankfully. She read him almost as well as Hayden, but she pushed harder, and sometimes it wasn’t wise to push an alpha. Not that he’d ever hurt her, but what if he lost control around her? Without a blood-bond to ground his wolf, to fully bind him to Tess, his wolf could fail to recognize her.

  “I can’t believe you’re going to have pancakes at this hour. It’s eleven pm.”

  The griddle sizzled as he poured six ladles worth of batter. He took out a second plate for her, but she waved him off as she drank her water. She was utterly gorgeous sitting there, with his t-shirt slipping off her shoulder. He liked having her in his clothing, as it reinforced his scent on her, though he’d like having her naked in his bed even better.

  Luscious red lips molded to the side of her glass. Two swallows and she had him hard, his imagination running wild. The angst he felt from within could not be contained by merely pushing his wolf down. His wolf wouldn’t give up, not until he found another way to exert control, if not over him, then over her.

  Damien had been staring at her mouth when he heard her breath quicken. The outline of her nipples, hard and ready to be sucked, pressed through the thin shirt. He stepped forward and let his finger glide over one breast. Her eyes remained on his as his finger circled the hard peak.

  “Your pancakes…”

  “I could make something else for you to eat if you prefer.”

  “Eat whatever you like.”

  Her words went straight to his cock. “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  He shoved the dishes aside, hearing them crash to the floor, as he lifted her up onto the table and pushed her legs apart. Her eyes flared at the same time he scented her pussy, wet and waiting for him. He lowered his head between her legs.

  “Damien!”

  “One taste.” How luxurious she would taste on his tongue! “One small taste.”

  Her thighs trapped his head like a vice.

  “You’re only turning me on, Sweetness.”

  “Go eat your pancakes.”

  “This is better.”

  “I’m not on the menu!”

  He kissed the inside of one thigh, and she opened her legs just a tad. “Oh, you are, or you wouldn’t be sitting on my table spread like a Thanksgiving Day feast. And I plan on eating my fill.”

  He kissed another spot, toward that sweet-smelling juncture. Her legs opened a little bit more, releasing a fresh plume of her fragrance into the air. He licked along her inner thigh. With each lick, he felt another small shudder travel through her body.

  “Your pancakes will burn,” she said with a voice that was dark, sensual, and needy.

  “Tell me what you want, Tess.” Another lick, this one so close to her folds he heard her breath hitch. “I’ll make it good for you.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “And yet my head is still between your legs.”

  “Then move it. Before I hit it with something.”

  Her tone gained a challenge that excited him. Her eyes darted about, seeking anything with which she could hit him. Apparently, no one had ever taught her not to take her eyes off her opponent during a challenge.

  He reached forward with his tongue, and in one long stroke, he licked her sweet folds from bottom to top. His little shifter with the lost wolf really was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.

  “Oh, that’s good,” she said, her balance shifting as she leaned back, opening herself to him further. He ran his tongue through her folds, slower this time, allowing himself to savor her essence as her fingers dug into his hair, pulling his face into her most intimate area.

  As his tongue dragged through her slick folds, deeper than before, searching for that special spot, she started grinding her pussy against his face. Sheer bliss.

  “Can’t believe we’re doing this,” she said, breathless. Her fingers dug into his scalp, staking her own claim on him, as she parted her legs further, giving him better access to her pretty pink pussy.

  He drew her nub between his lips, enjoying her every moan. He was having too much fun with her, and his wolf had finally quieted. Her panting grew faster, and her legs opened really wide, inviting him to take his fill, at last. As his tongue worked around her clit, and her moans increased, he slid a finger into her entrance.

  “Oh, God.”

  His cock was impossibly hard and throbbing from her sweet little whimpers, but he wasn’t moving from this position, not with how much she squirmed against him. His Tess needed to enjoy herself for a bit and stop worrying about who she was or where she belonged. He knew those answers, and in time, she’d know them, too.

  “Damien!” she shouted as her walls fluttered and squeezed his finger. He couldn’t help his grin as she arched her back to ride the orgasm. When her body relaxed, she laid on the table completely flat and still open to him. “I can’t believe you just did that, on your table of all places.”

  “I told you I was hungry.”

  “For pancakes!”

  “I found something better to eat.” He grinned.

  She swatted his shoulder.

  “Keep doing that, and I’ll have more than my finger inside you.”

  She bit her lip, and with a naughty look in her eyes, she poked his shoulder.

  “Is that a challenge?”

  “Maybe,” Tess said, watching Damien closely, as if she wasn’t sure what he’d do.

  “Never challenge an alpha,” he said as he set her back on her feet, spun her around and bent her over the table. He tossed the shirt above her hips so her bare ass was sticking up.

  With one swipe of his foot, he parted her legs and gripped her hips. Using one hand, he unzipped and freed himself from the confining pants. He slid his cock along her folds. She was so wet and ready for him.

  “We can’t,” she said, all breathless and sexy.

  He nuzzled the back of her neck as his cock lightly pressed against her entrance. “I need to be inside you.” His hips rocked slightly, pushing the tip of his cock into her. So fucking wet…

  “Oh, God. So good!”

  “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll see stars, Sweetness.”

  “Condom,” she said, panting.

  Damien eased in another inch, but then she wiggled away, sliding to the side before pushing her ass back against him, forcing him away.

  “Condom, Damien!”

  Fuck, he didn’t have any condoms in his jeans. They were in his nightstand. “Stay right there,” he said, pulling away. God, he loved the sight of her bare bottom prone and waiting for him with her juices sliding down her thigh.

  With his jeans open and his cock hanging out, Damien bounded up the stairs, taking them three at a time. He was tearing through his nightstand looking for those damned condoms when he heard a loud thump and crashing of plates in the kitchen. He leapt back down the steps so fast his hands nearly landed on the hot griddle when he slammed into the counter.

  Tess was sitting on the floor, beneath the table, her legs pulled up against her chest, huddling like a frightened child.

  “You’re fine,” Damien soothed as he pulled her shaking body into his arms. His nostrils flared at the coppery smell of blood, her blood. On the floor, he spotted blood on one of the broken plates. His fingers on her lower back came away slick.

  “What happened?”

  She buried her face in his chest. “I thought he was back. I thought I heard…” She shook her head but stayed plastered to him. “I dove under the table. I guess I knocked the plates off.” She peeled herself away from him to view the mess on the floor. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about the plates. Or Ian.” He stroked her hair, trying to calm himself as well as her. “He’s dead and you�
��re here with me.”

  When she calmed enough that she no longer shook, he turned her around to face the table. Immediately, her shoulders tensed, and her spine stiffened. She was scared of him. Hell. “I’m just checking your back. You’re bleeding,” he said as he slowly lifted the shirt.

  “Don’t look!” With one swift motion, she shoved him away, turned around and pulled the shirt down with such force she didn’t realize that she was stretching the fabric and exposing a fair amount of her breasts at the top. “I don’t want you seeing them.”

  Them? Her scars. “I’ve already seen them.”

  When Pryce had cleaned her up and treated her, Damien had seen every horrid mark the bastards had left on her. He stepped forward, intending to hold her again, but she shook her head, still fisting the shirt.

  He ran the back of his fingers across her cheek. Wide, green eyes watched him, hesitant and full of angst. Damien let his hand drop to his side, and tried waggling his brows. Tess always seemed to like when he flirted with her.

  “How about this? We both keep our shirts on and remove our pants.”

  The faintest hint of a smile appeared on her lovely face. “You’re unbelievable, Damien.”

  He grinned. “Is that a yes or a no?”

  Her fragile smile bloomed into a grin. “I’m not wearing any pants, as you already know.” She raised her chin and squared her shoulders. “Besides, you came down here to eat.”

  “Oh, I love when you invite me to eat,” he said, hoisting her back onto the table and pushing her legs apart as he sank to his knees.

  “Damien!” she squealed as he kissed the inside of her thighs. “This is how we got started in the first place!”

  “Practice makes perfect.”

  The doorbell rang, and he made the same rookie mistake she had made earlier. He turned from her, giving her the chance to escape. She swung her leg over him, jumped off the table, slipped out of the kitchen, and raced up the steps. His little shifter learned fast.

  Now there was a frantic pounding at the door. Whoever it was, better have a good reason for interrupting his late-night snack, not to mention his pancakes.

  He fastened his pants and opened the door.

  * * *

  TESS

  Tess ran for her room and locked the door. Not that she was afraid of Damien, more like she was afraid of what she had already let him do to her. She hadn’t seen that coming, but she should have. It wasn’t her fault she hadn’t been given panties or that many female shifters didn’t bother with underwear. But still, to walk around Damien’s house in an oversized t-shirt, and no pants… For some reason she let her guard down around him, and he always found a way of undressing her. Not that she minded exactly. It’s just that he knew how to play her so well, and she didn’t know how to reciprocate. Sooner or later he’d realize that, and he’d get bored with her.

  She sighed. She was making excuses. There was no denying Damien was fun and sexy as sin, but there was that whole issue of whether she should even be here, given how his pack felt about her. She had only returned with him because she didn’t know how to survive on her own, at least not without cash. Only four hours gone, and she had ended up filthy, cold and in an alley with a bunch of downtrodden men. Her circumstances had declined so rapidly she was starting to think she couldn’t do anything right.

  Damien, God, he’d made her feel safe, wanted and loved, and it didn’t make any sense. She had nothing to offer the pack. Blade was a scout, Hayden a strong shifter ready and able to take over if anything ever happened to Damien. She couldn’t even make pancakes or blood-bond him, and Damien didn’t want to see the truth. She was a shifter who couldn’t shift. She was essentially human. She winced. Human.

  A knock at her door made her jump. “Tess?”

  “Go to sleep, Damien. Or better yet, go eat your pancakes since there’s nothing up here for you to eat.”

  Silence.

  “Damien?”

  “I burned the pancakes.”

  He sounded like a little kid who had really been looking forward to those pancakes. Or maybe he was hoping she’d come out and rescue him with an alternative he could sink his teeth… tongue… into. God, she was getting wet all over again, just thinking about it.

  “I can smell your pussy, Tess,” he said through the door. His voice was deep, playful, and highly aroused.

  She threw a shoe at the door. “Go away.”

  “Are you sure? If you let me in, I promise I’ll be good.”

  Oh, he’d be good at whatever he planned to do to her. That was the problem. “Go to sleep.”

  “I will, eventually. But I’m too wound up. I need a run or something physical to burn off some energy.”

  Her nipples were rock hard and pushing against a t-shirt that carried his scent. It really wasn’t fair. “Then go for a run.”

  “I won’t leave you alone again.”

  She heard the guilt in his voice. He blamed himself for what Ian had done earlier. Tess unlocked the door and held it open an inch.

  He was standing there, soft-gray eyes begging her to let him in. The mirth in his voice had been replaced by a need for more. Refusing him was hard, really hard.

  “Who was at the door?”

  “Frank. One of the kids wandered out of camp, and he was coming to get my help to search. Blade showed up a minute later to say the little girl had been found. She returned home on her own and is already in bed. I guess that’s one wolf who’s not going to be satisfied with life here and will end up living in a city.”

  “Like me.”

  “It’s not the same as living with a pack.”

  “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been without one. Except for my time in the cage.”

  She closed her eyes, trying to remember her dad’s face full of concern and disappointment when she snuck in late or Lily’s thanks when Tess covered for her. Even the way William spoke of finding lone shifters, bringing lone wolves into the pack, wasn’t a bad idea. Her alpha had his flaws, they all did, but they had been her family, her pack.

  “They’re gone, Damien. I can’t believe they’re all gone.”

  “We’re your pack now, Tess. If you’ll have us.”

  His voice was too personal. He wasn’t talking as an alpha offering a lone wolf a place in his pack. Sure, he liked having fun with her, but when it came down to it, he’d never want to be saddled with someone who couldn’t shift. A shifter who couldn’t shift was as weak as… as a human, the last person an alpha could blood-bond.

  “I need to get some sleep, Damien. Good night.”

  “Good night, Sweetness.”

  And there he had to go and call her “Sweetness,” again. The name made her melt. Then again, it probably wasn’t the name, but the shifter who used it.

  Chapter Nine

  DAMIEN

  Despite Tess’s outward calm, Damien sensed she was more than nervous. The past two weeks had been tough for her. She had learned of her pack’s massacre, but never truly grieved for her loss. Not once did he hear her cry. It was as if she was afraid of appearing vulnerable to him, or maybe to his pack. Always, she smiled and said “Hello,” but few gave her the courtesy of looking at her, let alone returning the greeting.

  He was ashamed of his shifters’ behavior, but he understood their fears. They saw her not only as an outsider, but as human. As alpha, all he could do was ask them to be civil. He certainly couldn’t make them trust her, but they trusted him to protect them. For now, it would have to do.

  Tess was lonely, though she would never admit it to him. Instead, she kept busy, trying to find her place in his pack. She’d been teaching herself to cook—an endeavor that made him smile and find creative ways of dumping the food she served him without her seeing it. Once or twice she ventured to the cookhouse to help out—only to get turned away. The cooks claimed they didn’t need her help. Damien had the urge to go down there and lecture them about manners, but that would not help Tess or his pack.

  When he
posted a guard at his house, for her protection, she began sneaking out one of the upper windows in back, climbing down a tree that abutted the house. Damien always found her in an obscure area, by a stream or in a cave. With her legs gracefully tucked under her, eyes closed, and arms set gently in her lap, she’d sit for long periods of time, as if she were meditating. He suspected she was trying to reach her wolf. He watched her from a distance, never revealing his presence. In the evenings, when they’d sit and talk, she never mentioned trying to shift, but she looked and sounded strong, healed. Was her wolf healed too?

  Her anxiety ramped up noticeably the day of the Running of the Moon. All day she cleaned his house, did laundry, and eventually ended up at the cookhouse cutting vegetables for lunch and then dinner. Apparently, she’d pushed her way in despite the cooks’ attempts to turn her away. Good for her! Even so, he felt as if she was avoiding him. After dinner, they strolled down the path toward the lake where the pack always began the run.

  “I should go back to your house,” she said, trying to pull her hand from his.

  He held firm. “This run is a basic right of every shifter.”

  “I haven’t been to a Running of the Moon since I was twelve.”

  “Seriously?”

  “A month after I learned to shift, we had our run, and a week after that we left North Carolina and settled in Apopka.”

  “I guess it would be hard explaining a few dozen wolves running through the suburbs, howling each full moon.

  “It’s just a tradition, anyway,” she said, shrugging. She was doing a lousy job of hiding her emotions.

  “Don’t make excuses and don’t psyche yourself out. Give yourself and your wolf a chance. Besides, it will be good for you.”

  “How so?”

  “It helps the pack bond. It will let the other shifters see you’re one of us.”

  Her face fell. Shit, he’d said the wrong thing again. She was right in that the Running of the Moon was basically a tradition and had no bearing on a shifter’s life, other than drawing the pack closer together. But true acceptance by his pack wouldn’t come until she proved herself as a shifter, and they both knew it. As far as he was concerned, she was part of his pack now. When he took over the pack six years ago, he’d decreed that every adult able to walk or crawl, would be present at the Running of the Moon. Only the children who couldn’t shift yet as well as those adults on babysitting or guard duty were excused.