Blue Moon Brides: The Complete Series (64 page)

“You’re my mate. That makes you the female Alpha.”

And…sucker punch. She sucked in a honeysuckle-scented breath. “Instant hierarchy? Riley doesn’t want to rock-paper-scissors me for the job?”

He reached out a hand and she turned her cheek away. Letting him touch her right now was a bad idea. She’d cave. “Riley would kick your ass if she thought it was in the best interest of her Pack or if you ever made the mistake of threatening Dag. She’s in a hard spot right now. Dag is a Breaux. She’s a Jones. Somehow, she has to figure out how to balance the two.”

He slammed his hand into the wooden post and petals drifted down around them. He sure didn’t look happy.

“What’s wrong with being a Jones? Do you have a Montague and Capulet thing going on here that I should know about?”

“Cruz is the Alpha of the Jones pack.”

The sensation was like finding herself in an elevator when it dropped two floors—or twenty. Her stomach sank like a rock before hope jerked it right back up. “He can’t be a werewolf.”

“Why not?” Luc leaned in, sealing his thighs to hers. He’d wrinkle her.

“He’s the sheriff.”

Right. Her logic sounded stupid as soon as she said it. Obviously, werewolves had infiltrated law enforcement. Hell, maybe the state governor or the president was a werewolf. Apparently, it was a possibility. Luc slid a hand around the back of her neck, warm, rough fingers stroking over sensitive skin. Anchoring her in this crazy, dizzy world.

“He’s a werewolf.” She tried the words out loud. Just to hear how crazy they sounded.

“Uh-huh. You’re in the minority here.”

“Can you make me a werewolf?” Because that was a big
hell, no
on her part.

Luc smiled, rubbing his thumb in a lazy circle over the base of her neck. “Not an option. We’re born, not bitten, although I’m happy to prove my point.”

And didn’t that trigger the mother of all flashbacks? Luc biting. His teeth nipping at sensitive skin. She squirmed. So help her, she wriggled against the damned pergola because it was that or rub up against him.

She was ten kinds of stupid to be standing here with him. He was a werewolf who ran a territory in the Louisiana bayou. She was a law-abiding lawyer with an excellent practice in Baton Rouge. It was no Romeo and Juliet story, but it wasn’t going to work either.

“I should leave,” she said.

His face gave nothing away. “Is that really why you came here? To tell me you weren’t interested in pursuing our relationship?”

“You bet.” She glared at him, even though the inconsistency was obvious.

“Because I’m not thinkin’ you want me to
leave
.”

~*~

Luc turned and stalked away deeper into the garden. For the things he wanted to do to his mate, privacy was the best bet. He had no problem touching and kissing her in front of the others, but he was betting she’d be shy about that. For now, he’d deep-six his desire to show Cruz Jones exactly what the other male couldn’t have. And yet there’d been that spark of interest in Gianna’s eyes…she might not object to touching the other Alpha.

Damn it.

Was that really who she wanted? Had he already lost her?

She followed him, like he’d hoped she would. His wolf herded her, getting her to himself. Riley had chosen to have her reception on the grounds of an old plantation. The original house was closed up now, peacefully falling into ruins, but the gardens were lush and rampant, overgrown and bursting with color and glimpses of the bayou through the Spanish moss overgrowing the trees. The place had been here almost as long as he had, which made it older than shit. A veritable antique.

There.

He picked his spot—some kind of garden shed or former outbuilding—and had her up against the wall in a heartbeat. She made that squeak he liked so much, her mouth hanging open as she tried to figure out which way to tell him off first. While she lined up her words, she tried to punch a hole in his foot with her heel. Wrapping his palm around her knee, he tugged gently up and stripped her shoe off. Tossed it over his shoulder just to make a point and then went for the other foot.

“Play nice,” he growled.

“You play by the fucking rules,” she countered. But she sounded breathy and he inhaled. He smelled sweet female cream. She might be mad at him—but she was also aroused. And all he needed was one
yes
.

He held her caged against the wall. “I don’ let go.”

She gave him The Look. The one that made him want to rumple her from head to foot, concentrating on all his favorite bits in between. “This isn’t about what you want. This is about what
I
want.”

Was she comparing him to Cruz? The other man cleaned up good and he played at being civilized. Underneath the good-looking exterior, though, the man was all wolf. Was that what his little mate truly wanted?

“And what
do
you wan’?”

“To be free of
you
.” She slapped a palm against his chest, clearly not intimidated by his size or by their isolation.

“Too late for that, but I’ll make you a deal. Stay with me here in the bayou. Give me a week. Seven nights.”

“To do what?”

“To change your mind. To give
us
a chance.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” She eyed him suspiciously. Negotiating might have been easier if the Blue Moon had handed him a less intelligent mate. It wouldn’t have been as much fun though.

“Seven days. Seven nights. You let me do whatever I wan’.”

“I’m not playing sex slave games.”

There were so many other ways to give up control. He didn’t need her to call him
master
, not when he liked the sound of his name on her lips. He also didn’t need collars or whips or chains. Those were fun toys for some people, but he liked his sex straight up.

“I don’ wan’ to hurt or humiliate you.”

She looked at him. His face. His shoulders. His hands. His
dick
. He had no idea what proof she expected to find in any of those places, but she nodded like everything was settled.

“Seven nights,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll give you the nights. The days are off-limits.”

“Why?” Yeah, well, he had no problem with sex any hour of the day. He wanted her in his arms right now and he was starting to care a whole lot less about their public venue.

She shrugged. “Seven nights to get you out of my system, but I keep the daylight hours because I’ve got a life too.”

The exact meaning of her words eluded him, but the gist hurt. He was sex on the side. Their mating was a roadblock and the chemistry between them was something to use up. Fine. She could try. He wouldn’t let her walk away from him that easily and seven nights with her were seven nights more than he’d ever had before.

“Deal.”

She stared at him and he was pretty certain those were a whole lot of nerves he saw in her eyes. Good. His Gianna was too used to being in control. He’d keep her off-balance, sneak under her guard and get close before she knew it.

“Okay,” she said and then made the mistake of trying to duck under his arm. Catching her was simple. All he had to do was lean in, pin her between the goddamned pergola and his body. Her eyes widened as she got the message pressing against the front of his pants.

“You’re not going anywhere. Not yet.”

“You want to have sex
now
?” He loved the way she jumped straight to the end game. The way she said whatever she had on her mind. She didn’t pull her punches or play coy. She was more of a
fuck me harder
girl than
kiss me
coy.

“That wasn’t a
no
.” He couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face.

“Not here.” Gianna slapped her hands against Luc’s shoulders, her nails biting hard into his cotton T-shirt. Marking him as
hers
with each red crescent she carved in him. The small brand wasn’t enough. Not for him. He wanted to tattoo her on his skin, wear her close every minute of his goddamned day.

Hell. She’d gotten
under
his skin just fine—why not let her mark up the outside some too?

“Don’ challenge me,
shug
.” The public nature of the place made her nervous, but beneath the nerves he scented arousal. She loved these games they played together, craved the darker thrill of exposure. His Gianna played by the rules—all of the rules. Rules were something he understood all too well. As Pack Alpha, he kept his Pack’s laws and he kept his wolves safe. He’d fought for them, watched out for them until it threatened to suck him down whole.

And he wouldn’t trade a fucking moment of his time with the Pack any more than he’d give up this woman.

“You hold this for me,
oui
?” He fisted her skirt. The stiff cotton was one of those girly colors that had so many names. Pink worked for him.  The fabric cotton had been ironed into precise creases. Gianna was always so careful not to wrinkle—he was helping her out really. Not that
she
would see it that way. He hid his grin against her thigh.

Her panties, though…

“That’s downright pretty.” Her panties were pink to match her dress and the mesh panels were so sheer he could see her skin through it and the little mole above her hipbone he loved so much. And—added bonus—the patch of flowers embroidered over the crotch hid his favorite place. He ran a knuckle gently over the center and she pushed into his hand.

“The bra matches.” Her words were pure challenge.

“I’ll be findin’ that out for myself,” he growled.

She pushed away from him. “I don’t have to have this.”

She damned well did, if it was the only thing she’d take from him. He had a primitive urge to mark her as
his
that her interest in Cruz only stoked. He wasn’t letting her go without a fight and now he had her here on his turf. Cruz might fight him for a shot at Gianna, but Cruz wasn’t the Alpha here. He ran his own territory back in Port Leon.

He rubbed his thumb over her clit. “Come for me,” he ordered and she glared at him. Too bad for her. She’d let him in her panties and then she’d challenged him.

“Seven nights.” She made a show of looking around. “It sure looks like afternoon to me.”

“Sue me. I’m cheatin’,” he snarled. He worked his fingers into the mesh. She was wet as hell, so she liked their games just fine. He ran his thumb down her slick crease. Then his finger. Did it again because he loved the way her lashes drifted down and she chewed on her lower lip as she tried to hold back those sexy little whimpers.

One quick, hard tug and her panties hit the ground.

“More,” he demanded, working his fingers into her pussy. She pushed up to meet him with a groan, stepping out of her panties and hooking a leg around his waist. He took her on a hell of a ride, touching and rotating, working his fingers into her in deep, luscious circles until she was panting and riding the edge. One hard squeeze of her clit and she spasmed, coming against his fingers in fierce ripples. Eyes squeezed shut, face pressed against his shoulder, her nails digging permanent gouges into his flesh. She was fucking gorgeous.

“Just wait until it’s dark,” he promised, giving her ear a short nip as she relaxed into his hold.

She gave him a look he couldn’t interpret and walked away, her ridiculous little heels sinking into the ground. She didn’t look back.

Nope. His little mate got the hell out of there, but he bet she’d be checking the time when she got back to the reception and her phone. Tucking her panties into his pocket, he strolled after her.

He could show her a hell of a lot in seven nights.

~*~

Gianna came strolling across the lawn toward him. She walked sweetly casual, her hips doing a little roll-and-sway that made him want to chase her down and kiss her. Her pink dress clung to her breasts and her ass. She was a magnificent woman, beautiful as hell inside and out, but she was rumpled. Messed up more than a little. The fabric below her waist sported sharp creases like someone had crushed her skirt beneath his fingers and there was no missing the grass stain on her back when she turned to greet someone.

He was almost certain she wasn’t wearing panties anymore.

The closer she got, the more Cruz smelled Luc on her. Not the male’s seed, but something more pervasive, like he’d touched her skin, pressed his own against her over and over.
Shit
. The other Alpha had staked his claim on her in the most primitive way possible. He thought about that while he waited for her to come to him. He still wanted her. This wasn’t about the sex. Gianna was a beautiful woman, but he could find that with someone else if he looked. Gianna herself was the prize, the reason to play this game. He had a bad feeling she was unique, his one and only, and he was betting she’d just come all over his competition’s tongue.