Hidden Moon (Hot Moon Rising #4) (11 page)

“Do you need to write another poem?” she teased. “What is it already?”

“Nothing much.” He looked down at his shoes. “I just…I love you, Shelley.”

A tremor rippled through her arms, locking him closer. Those were the best words

she’d heard all day. Knowing how hard it had been for him to say them made them more

precious. They still rocked to an unheard beat, in the perfect unison only mates could

achieve.

She pressed her cheek against his. “Oh, Alan. You know how I feel about you, too.”

“Don’t. I don’t deserve it.” He shook his head, making the tied ends of his bandana

bounce. “I’m a violent freak.”

“No, you’re not,” she said, glaring into his eyes while she gripped his hands. “Don’t

ever say that again.”

“Why, angel? Why?” He brushed her chin with his index finger. “Why do you keep

believing in me when nobody else does? When I don’t even believe in myself?”

“Because you have two men inside.” She poked a finger to his breastbone. “You only

see the bad one, but I see the tender boy who writes beautiful poems.”

His eyes softened, widening to two dark pools of fire, which threatened to swallow her

up.

“But I’m so hard and you’re so soft,” he argued. “What do you see in me?”

“You’re soft, too, on the inside,” she said, wondering where the words came from as

she said them. “Maybe you’re hard on the outside because you’re so soft inside.”

He pressed his rigid pelvis against her. “Soft? Are you sure?”

“Be serious.” She sighed as her core melted, needing him inside her more than her

lungs needed oxygen. “You’re like…a hidden moon. Everyone else sees the clouds, but I

see the light behind them.”

His mouth twisted up in a half-grin. “You’ve got me all figured out, huh?”

As they swayed in silence, his liquid gaze caressed her face and drifted over her

collarbones, strong and hot as a physical touch. The skin under her confining panties

swelled and heated up. As they moved, the slinky fabric of the dress teased her, making

her crave his touch.

“Any other particular reason you invited me here?” she asked.

“Yeah, one more.”

Her breath caught as he ran a finger down the bodice opening of her dress. Because

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she hadn’t worn a bra, her stiff nipples stretched the fabric. But, damn him, he wouldn’t

touch them. Instead, his teasing strokes stayed near the opening, studying the curves of

her breasts from the sides and bottoms.

He shot her a serious look. “Are you aware you have the most perfect breasts in the

universe?”

She laughed, but desire quickly dissolved her humor. While staring into his eyes, she

slid two fingers up his cheek and hooked them under the bandana, lifting it off.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” he said, shooting her a wicked little smile.

She tossed it to the floor. “Why not?”

In reply, he pressed a strong palm to her buttocks and squeezed. She must have

turned into an orange because hot juices dripped into her panties as a result. Next, he

pressed a scalding hot kiss to the tender spot where her neck met her shoulder. Her

fingers curled around the back of his collar as he sucked and licked the tender skin.

Her heels wobbled in the carpet as he worked his mouth in a slow, lazy path up her

neck, across her cheek, and finally to her parted lips. Every inch or so, he stopped to

press hot, moist kisses to her skin with his deliciously full lips. Sometimes he sucked a

little. Other times, he swiped with the tip of his tongue.

“Alan.” The word spilled out of her mouth as a half-plea, half-demand.

“Come on.” He grasped her hand and led her to the couch. “The last reason I invited

you here was to make sweet love to you.”

“You mean you didn’t enjoy banging me on the counter at the diner?”

“Hell, yeah, I enjoyed it,” he said, shooting her his sexy, boyish smile. “But that was

just hot sex. My first time, too.”

Her eyebrows shot up. She was his first? His only? She wished she could say the same

about him. If she hadn’t played games in high school, they’d probably be married by

now instead of parting.

“You sure seemed to know what you were doing,” she said.

“I guess I learned a few things from watching the adult channel on cable.” He brushed

back a lock of her hair. “The point is you deserve better. Lie down.”

Her pulse throbbed all the way down to her toes as she kicked off her sandals and lay

on her back on the big, velveteen sofa. He pulled up the skirt of her dress, but she was

too lost in his kiss to pay attention. The sound of rustling clothes and fast, soft breaths

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surrounded them. He whispered her name while he parted her thighs with warm

fingers. Tangling in her panties. Pulling them down, too.

She unbuttoned his shirt, reaching inside to explore the hot planes of his chest along

the way.

“What if your father wakes up?” she asked when she reached the last button.

“He won’t.” All the same, he tugged the red-white-and-blue afghan from the back of

the couch and covered them with it.

When he unzipped his fly, her nerves were so taut it sounded like cannon fire in the

quiet room. Her slit wept, needing her mate’s body and soul. Too eager to wait, she

guided him inside, leaving behind a layer of his silky wetness on her fingertips. While he

kissed her with exquisite gentleness, she stroked his bare scalp. It was smooth and

surprisingly soft. While he eased into her depths, he groaned softly into her mouth.

“Alan,” she half-whispered, half-moaned. While the couch embraced her from

behind, she gripped his shoulders and embraced him with her thighs, giving him

everything—her eager body, her fast-beating heart, and her future.

So precious. So brief. The best moments of her life. If only she could lock them into a

box like a pair of earrings and enjoy them later, after he was gone.

His mouth pulled away from hers, leaving her lips cold. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m thinking about tomorrow. I really don’t like that word.”

He toyed with her bottom lip and pressed a kiss onto it while he slid deep. “Tomorrow

doesn’t exist tonight.”

She arched her back, inviting him even farther into her core and squeezing him like a

possessive mate.

He winced. “Damn, Shelley. Keep doing that and I’m going come.”

“Alan?”

“Uh-huh?” He whistled out a slow breath as she locked her legs around him and dug

her heels into his taut buttocks.

“The mating bond,” she said, panting. “This time. Please.”

He slid his hands under her buttocks, still stroking slowly enough to make her lose

her mind.

“You know I want to, but I can’t,” he whispered.

She swallowed. “I won’t ask you to stay. I promise.”

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“I’m sorry, Shelley.” He closed his eyes and dropped his head. “It wouldn’t be right.”

Why did he have to be so honorable? But he still brought his generous mouth to her

neck, tasting and probing with his tongue, as if he also wondered what it would be like to

consummate their bond. She squirmed under him, her juices soaking his hard flesh, and

probably the couch cushion beneath her.

He reared back, displaying his sexy bare chest. She slid her palms over it—his hot

sweat, muscles, and ribs—while he rotated his hips, hugging her from the inside out and

setting off sensations so intense they nearly paralyzed her.
My mate
, the wolf in her

declared.

When he gazed at her, he told her with his eyes he was about to come. After dropping

her hands from his chest, she dug her nails into the base of his spine, driving him into

her—harder, deeper, faster. So hard his torso dropped, crushing her chest. The sudden

movement made her abdomen clench. Feeling so ripped apart she didn’t know if she was

alive or dead, she screamed into his shoulder.

He dragged in a huge breath that ended on her name as his seed exploded inside her.

Each aftershock of his set off one in her and vice versa as their bodies echoed each other.

She roved her hands over him while they rested, their hearts thudding in unison.

Memorizing the curve of his skull here and the slope of his shoulder there. Most of all,

his deep-brown chocolate eyes as he gazed at her and caressed an exposed breast.

When he finally spoke, his voice sounded hoarse. “Love hurts, doesn’t it?”

She traced the outline of his ear, forcing back the heavy wall of heat building behind

her eyes. “Yes, it does, Alan, but in a good way. At least with us.”

While the spell of their incredible lovemaking slowly evaporated around them, the

wolf in her tuned into her surroundings. She peeped over the back of the couch, hoping

she wouldn’t find his father standing there watching.

A slight breeze wafted in from the window overlooking the orange grove. The wolf in

her sniffed.

“Do you smell smoke?”

“Hmm?” Alan yawned and stretched as he sat up. “Yeah, I wonder—”

Straightening her dress, she scrambled off the couch and rushed toward the window.

In the distance, she spotted a reddish glow.

“My orange grove. Oh God, Alan! It’s on fire!”

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“I’ve got to go,” Shelley said over her shoulder as she raced toward the front door.

Alan grabbed her arm. “You’re not rushing into that fire.”

“My oranges,” she cried. “I’ve got to—”

“No.” Squeezing her squirming arm, he drew her closer. “First, I’m going to call the

pack. Make sure they know. Find someone to guard Dad. Then we’ll go.”

“That’ll take forever.” The ferocity in her usually gentle hazel eyes reminded him she

was a wolf. “The grove will be burned by then.”

He jerked his head toward the door. “I can’t leave him, and I’m not letting you head

into a fire by yourself.”

“I’m a farmer, for God’s sake, not helpless.” She dug short but sharp nails into his

forearm. “I’ll be careful.”

“No way. Fire kills and whoever set it may still be out there.”

He dragged her toward the phone and picked it up with his free hand. Luckily, Dad

had their Alpha on speed dial. The movement gave Shelley enough leverage to break free

of him.

“Shelley!” His raised voice echoed inside the room. “As your mate, I forbid you to

walk out that door without me.”

She gripped the doorknob and planted her other hand on her hip. “You’re not my

mate. You refused to bond, remember?”

Oh, yeah. Crap.

When Derek answered, Alan put the phone on speaker so Shelley could hear. His

tongue tripped over itself as he tried to explain everything.

“Do not let her go alone,” the Alpha said. “I’ll send someone over to guard your father.

Is the fire threatening the house?”

Alan glanced out the window, his heart thundering in his ears. “Unless a stray spark

blows over here, I don’t think so.”

“I’m going to get those old clothes from the truck and wet them down while we wait.”

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She opened the door. “I need to call Mom, too, and make sure she’s okay. I’ll be right

back. I promise.”

“Okay. I’m glad you obey your Alpha, at least.” He picked up his bandana off the floor

and tied it around his head again.

“I obey my mate, too,” she said. “I don’t need a bite to prove you’re mine.”

Warmth spread through his chest. Well, he did. With everything happening, he

couldn’t sink his teeth into her neck fast enough. While she handled the clothes they’d

wear, he hooked up the hose and wet down the roof as a precaution.

After Alan put on the wet clothes, Dad peered out of his bedroom. Frowning and

rumple-haired, he looked like a bear that had been pulled out of hibernation before

spring.

“I smell smoke,” he said, nose twitching. “What the hell is going on?”

“The orange grove is burning,” Shelley said, gripping the windowsill.

Alan swallowed, trying not to notice how hot she looked in a wet T-shirt with no bra.

Headlights swept across the driveway.

“That must be the guy Derek sent.” He glanced at his father. “He’s going to stay with

you until we return.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Don said. “I’m going with you.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Alan gripped his head, ready to pull his bandana off

again. “You’d only be in the way.”

Dad’s head drooped. “Thanks a lot.”

“Lock him up if you have to,” Alan told the guard when he walked in. “Keep him safe.”

He’d have his hands full protecting his mate. His gut twisted at the thought of leaving

his father alone even for a couple of hours. How could he leave him for good tomorrow?

He couldn’t face that day yet. Wasn’t even sure he could get through tonight.

Hand in hand, he and Shelley ran out the door.

“Let’s take my truck,” she said.

“I’ll drive.”

She shot him a brief grin as she slid into the passenger seat. “You’re awfully alpha.”

With his heart in his throat, he drove toward the flames. If he’d just arrived from

Virginia, the fire wouldn’t even faze him. Why should he care? He hadn’t even known

this place existed. Now, he cared enough to battle the flames himself.

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A siren split the air, and red flashing lights competed with the glow of the flames.

Alan pulled off on the shoulder to let the fire truck pass.

“Good. The firefighters from Palmetto are here.” Shelley grabbed the door handle.

“Stop the truck.”

“What do you plan to do? Fight the fire with your bare hands? Leave it to the