Desert Blood (The Wolves of Twin Moon Ranch Book 2) (8 page)

He lowered his mug to the floor and came over silently to kneel behind her on the mat. He eased into contact, keeping his hands light on her waist. Her skin captured the essence of sunrise: pastel-soft and warm. Her body supple, contoured just right for his frame. His heart skipped when she resumed the routine, making him part of her. As she leaned left and held the stretch, he ran a finger down the inside of her outstretched arm, holding his breath the whole time. Like a bird stretching its wings, she swept upward. He was beneath those wings now, marveling at their grace. His hands went back to her ribs, light, loose, not wanting to interfere with her flight. Stretch, slide, up; he echoed each of her moves then added his own.

A kiss on the shoulder, a brush of her breast. Heather continued her routine, quivering now. He cupped her breasts, feeling them lean and lift as she went through the moves. He could smell her desire, taste her pleasure. It was dizzying, knowing what he could make her feel, knowing the power she wielded over him at the same time. He licked a finger and worked her nipples until they were hard and high, visibly straining for more. His chest was against her back now, ears tuned to her breath. They were slow, steady breaths that he would have copied if he weren’t afraid to let out a groan. So he worked his lips against a smooth shoulder instead. There. He’d forsake oxygen for the next few minutes and breathe in Heather instead.

She settled into a seated position, the soles of her feet meeting as her knees dropped apart. For all her tension last night, she was now sage and serene. He settled behind her, cradling her between his legs. A thrill went through him when she leaned back and pushed her knees wider, inviting him to explore. His fingers slid slowly, gradually, past her curls and into her folds. That might have been pushing the boundaries of yoga, but damned if he could hold back. Not when he reached her wet, welcoming pussy. Not when she leaned back, begging him for more. As he teased her inner thighs, Heather’s steady breaths wavered. Cody closed his eyes. He didn’t need to see to find the bud of her clit, didn’t need to hear to pick up her inner cry of delight at the contact.

Jesus, what made this so different from every other time he’d pleasured a woman? Was it that fact that the pleasure was shared, an even split? That every sharp breath she took was matched by a tremble of his own? That had to be it. This was making love, not a quick, hard fuck.

His inner wolf growled as if the word
fuck
had suddenly offended his sensibility.

And the wolf was right. The minute emotion got added to the equation—because hell, it was impossible to keep his heart locked away—
fuck
no longer applied. Not to his mate.

She was perfect. They were perfect. The morning was perfect—but damn, it was already slipping away. How to maintain this languid pace, even as the sun rose, and his cock with it? How to preserve the serenity of the moment? His fingers circled her cunt, coaxing it wide. He wanted to drive into her right away, lose himself in her sweet tunnel. But for her, he’d force himself to go slow, to explore deeper. He’d coax another dozen sighs and moans out of her before letting himself go, even if his cock was about to explode.

Together, they danced along the edge of all-out desire, inventing a whole new series of moves. All of it unspoken, uncued, the two of them perfectly in tune. She leaned back, far back, dripping slowly from his lap onto a puddle on the mat. He rolled onto her without breaking contact, and paused, cock straining at her entrance, savoring the glory of the moment.

He mimicked the easy pace of her yoga moves, sliding into her gradually and relishing every inch of her slick heat. A pleasure so new, so intense, it hurt. He retreated, slower than slow, then dipped back in. In, in, in. God, he was so in. Heart and soul on the line, and there was nothing he could do but hang on for the ride. Somehow, though, he stopped long enough to stop, duck inside, and grab a condom in record time. Then he slid back into position and picked up where he left off.

Slow and delicious quickly became deep and delicious, then deep and hard as Heather urged him to fill her, again and again. Her legs wrapped tightly around him, her breath ragged. He gloried in watching her come, once, twice, until the sun was slanting over the fence, hurrying them along. Only then did he give in to the urge, hammering home with the power he’d been holding back all morning. She was utterly open to him, arms overhead, neck exposed. Her pulse throbbed at the juncture of shoulder and neck. There—right there! He could claim his mate and solve everything with one bite! He could—

No. If he claimed her now, she’d be little more than a slave to him for the rest of her life. He would have to hold on for the day when she gave herself willingly to his bite. Cody locked his teeth behind his lips and channeled the urge to his hips instead, penetrating again and again. Heather matched his rhythm, locking down hard on his cock, half-lost in sensual delirium. Higher and higher they flew, until he slammed over a peak and spilled his passion into her with a cry. Panting, hearts thumping, they eventually dropped back, nuzzling.

“Good morning,” Heather breathed into his ear, looking more serene than he’d ever seen her. He wanted to give her lots of good mornings, one after another all the way to the end of his life.

A pang hit him amidst the joy of the moment. This was Monday, not Sunday morning, and they were out of time. But that was the least of it. Heather wasn’t a wolf. She was human. And he was the alpha’s son, a man expected—no, required—to find a suitable mate. A shifter female of high standing. Nothing else would do.

He wound his arms around Heather and tucked her head under his chin. Destined mates? Or destined for heartbreak? Cody shielded his face from the encroaching sunlight. Soon, the day—and reality—would be upon them.

For better or worse.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A hint of strawberry teased at Cody’s lips as he drove home. He tucked them in, savoring the reminder of his first night with Heather. If she hadn’t had to go to school, he could have stayed there all day. But there was work to be done, a case to crack.

He detoured to check in with Kyle, who carefully refrained from any comment as to where his houseguest might have spent the night, and then drove to the ranch on the pretense of reporting to Ty. What Cody really wanted was to be near Heather. And what he needed to ask Ty had nothing to do with the case.

Cody parked and pretended to sniff the healthy ranch air on the short walk to Ty’s place. He honed in on Heather’s scent, coming from the schoolhouse. The edgy feeling he’d had since parting with her dissipated. She was close. She was safe.

Mine!
his wolf added.

Ours,
the man agreed with an inner nod.

He turned the corner of his brother’s house and skidded to a halt. Ty was there, all right, leaning back in a patio chair, his face lathered with shaving cream. Lana was bent over him, sliding a straight-edged razor along his jaw, their legs practically intertwined. Judging by the heated sparks between them, this close shave would end very close, indeed.

“Uh, Ty?” Cody ventured as something behind his ribs twinged at the sight. He’d never once in his life been jealous of Ty—not the power, not the responsibility. But this—this sweet serenity, this stamp of forever—it almost hurt to see. If Cody didn’t know better, he’d have sworn his brother was purring. Until, of course, Ty growled.

“One of these days—” Ty started.

“Don’t move.” Lana whipped the razor away and clamped a hand around her mate’s chin. “Hi, Cody.”

He could see his brother’s Adam’s apple bob then settle. Behind the lather on his tanned face, the color rose.
One of these days, Cody, I am truly going to kill you.

Cody gave an exaggerated sigh.
Give me a time when the two of you aren’t going at each other.

Give me a time when we get any privacy
, Ty shot back.

For a minute, the only sound was the slow scrape of the razor on Ty’s skin, the distant buzz of a bee.

“Where’s my favorite niece?” Cody tried.

Lana smiled. “Feeding horses with my grandmother.” She tipped Ty’s head to the side and started on his neck, a definite gleam in her eye.

What do you want, Cody?
Ty growled.

Heather.
The first thing that popped into his mind. Good thing he didn’t let it slip far enough out for his brother to catch.

“Advice,” he said.

His brother’s eyes slid over to him, studying. Lana took another long scrape before pulling back to look at Ty, then Cody. She wiped the razor clean and slipped wordlessly into the house.

Ty wiped the shaving cream off his lip. “You have two minutes.”

Cody pulled a chair over and straddled it backward. He took a deep breath. “How did you know that Lana was…that you and she were…you know…” Ty arched an eyebrow. “Mates.”

When Ty leaned in and sniffed, the furrow between his eyebrows deepened. Cody had put considerable effort into masking Heather’s scent, but his brother’s nose was too good. “You know she’s off-limits,” Ty said through clenched teeth. “You know you can’t.”

“So was Lana,” Cody blurted. “Didn’t stop you.” He immediately pulled back, expecting an outburst, like the time he’d made a joke about Ty’s phantom—the hint of a mate that haunted his brother for years before he finally found Lana. That joke had earned him the fiercest beating of his life, including a torn ear. He still carried that scar. Had he deserved it? Absolutely. Because now, for the first time, Cody understood what had Ty wound so tight.

But instead of growling, his brother’s near-snarl became a smile. An actual smile. “No, I guess it didn’t.” Then he shook his head and glowered again. “Heather is human, Cody.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Cody insisted.

“I’d say it does. Dad sure as hell will say it does.”

“Other wolves have mated with humans.”

“Other wolves, yes. But never one of us. Never.”

“So?”

“So?” Ty shot it back at him.

A cardinal swooped by, a splash of red in the desert landscape. Cody hung his head. If Heather were a wolf, it would be so easy. She’d know their ways, submit to his bite. They could build a life together, one day at a time.

“Stay away from her,” Ty said, his baritone grinding over bedrock. “Focus on the case.”

Cody threw up his hands. “I can’t stay away. I can’t not see her. It’s like…like the wind purposely carries her scent to me.” His shoulders slumped. He could imagine the lecture Ty was about to deliver.
Duty. Maturity. Responsibility.

Ty took a long time answering, though, studying Cody closely. “You actually mean it.” Wonder tinged his words.

“Of course I mean it!” All the frustration of the past years found release in those words. Damn it, what would it take for his brother to take him seriously? “I love her.”

Ty chewed on an answer then spit it out. “Might not be enough.”

That arrow penetrated Cody’s deepest fears. He let out a breath and took a long time finding another. How could he ever explain things to Heather? Could she live with the truth? Suddenly, his father didn’t seem like his biggest obstacle any more.

“Watch it,” Ty warned. “You break that chair, my mate will kill you.”

Cody looked at his hands, clenched white on the back of the frame. He let go with some effort. Wasn’t there something around here he could break, throw, or smash?

He could feel Ty’s eyes boring into him, looking for the truth. Then from the depths of that glower, a whisper emerged. “If you’re serious, I’ll back you up.”

Good thing he was sitting. His brother was actually offering support? Cody managed a nod, not sure whether his burden had just been eased or increased. “So what do I do?”

Ty shrugged, looking for Lana. Cody’s two minutes were up. “Do what you have to do.”

That was about as much as he’d get out of his brother. More than he expected, in any case. Cody stood and replaced the chair as Lana reappeared, shaving brush in hand.

“But Cody?” Ty’s voice halted his steps.

“Yeah?”

“If you’re not serious...you’re on your own,” Ty finished with a murderous look.

Now that was the brother he knew. As Cody scurried away, he saw Lana straddle Ty and get back to work. He gave them three minutes, tops, before they hit the sheets. If they even made it that far.

He gave himself three minutes to pull his act together and figure out what the hell to do next.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Miss Luth! Do you know where ghosts swim?”

Heather turned from the geography lesson on the blackboard to eleven grinning faces, all anticipating Timmy’s punchline.

“Lake Erie!” he said, sending them all into laughter.

Heather did her best to look stern, cutting him off before he could get on a roll. “Timmy, what did we say about appropriate times to make jokes?”

Timmy tried to look repentant, but it only gave him an endearing pixie effect.

“Right, everyone to learning stations,” Heather said, keeping her momentum. “You know where to go?”

A chorus of voices chirped
Yes
as Heather turned on a quiet Mozart fugue. She glanced at the clock; not long before lunch. “Remember, you can talk to your partner, but keep your voices low. Nothing louder than the music. Right, Timmy?” She gave him an extra sharp look.

“Right, Miss Luth!” he shouted, bouncing to the “Europe” station by the windows.

For all that Timmy tested her patience, he was a great kid. Funny, energetic, and sharp. Too bad he kept the latter hidden away while he played his favorite role: class clown. A pity she only had a few more weeks here; give her a school year and she’d bet she could help Timmy work up the confidence to just be himself.

Just like Cody. The man was ingrained in a role, yet so desperate to break free.

Most people grabbed the chance to reinvent themselves the minute they left home, just as she once had. The thing was, Cody had never really had that chance, not from what she could gather. Family was everything on the ranch, and the kids didn’t fly far from the nest. She wouldn’t have, either, if she’d grown up in such a utopian place.