Authors: Cindy Spencer Pape
“It’s a full moon, remember?” His voice was guttural, more growl than speech. He slunk back down the stairs to sit on a keg along the wall farthest from Fee. The rising moon was exerting a pull nearly as strong as the lust he was fighting. The warring impulses practically tore his body and soul apart, but he wanted her so badly, he doubted he could force himself to turn. His body wanted to be in human form to take her. Realizing he was crushing the steel shelving, he loosened his grip, consciously forcing his hands to relax. He couldn’t even look at her, but he could feel her soften, hear her tennis shoes padding on the concrete floor as she stepped up behind him and laid her hand on his shoulder.
“Greg, what’s wrong?” Confusion and possibly hurt mingled in her scent, pushing away the fear. “If you need to change, I won’t mind. Believe me. I’ve become very familiar with the concept of a body that’s out of one’s control.”
“How long have you been human, Fee?” Maybe conversation would distract him from the pull of the moon, and the pain of his erection. Maybe, but not bloody likely.
“Three and a half months.” He could almost see her head droop, her shoulders sag. “It’s been—very strange.”
He barked out a laugh. “I’ll bet.”
The distinct tang of arousal had slowly been seeping into her scent as her nervousness abated. “I’ve been feeling things…things I’ve never felt in almost a hundred years as an elf. Things I’m not really sure I understand.” She shifted her legs, squeezing them together.
Unfortunately, Greg did understand. She was feeling a natural human urge…the need to propagate the species. Lucky him, to get to explain the birds and the bees to a horny, hundred-year-old hottie, when he was hard enough to pole vault on his dick.
Her hand on his shoulder burned like a silver bullet. He couldn’t help it; he turned and took her into his arms. He wasn’t even sure who kissed whom, it simply happened. One minute they were standing there and the next minute they were on the freshly mopped, wooden floor with their mouths fused together and his hands clamped onto her sleek little ass.
Her kiss was hotter and headier than anything he’d ever felt. Hotter than his first time with a woman, headier than running beneath the moon on a clear winter night. Her hands were up under his shirt, stroking the skin of his back, while her long, long legs twined around his. It took every bit of self-control he could muster to pull his lips off hers, but he managed, levering up off her body to roll to the side.
“That’s why I need to get us out.” He panted, throwing one arm across his face to block the glare of the industrial overhead lights.
He heard her move, could sense she was sitting up, gazing down at him. “But why is that a problem? Neither of us has a mate, we are both obviously consenting adults. I’d like to explore this. Sex never…appealed to me much as an elf. Now, when I’m near you, my body becomes overheated, sensitive, even swollen in spots. It’s as though I’ll go mad if I don’t touch you.”
Gods, she was trying to kill him. Any second now, the front of his jeans was simply going to burst. He rolled over, face down on the cold wooden floor, and took a deep breath. Crossing his arms to prop up his chin, he looked at her, read the confusion and hurt at his seeming rejection. Her lips were puffy from his kiss, and her long hair was tousled, falling in a ragged ponytail over one shoulder. She’d never looked sexier.
“They should have given you a crash course in human biology before they made you one,” he growled. “What you’re feeling isn’t personal, it’s pure hormones.”
“Explain.” There it was again, the princess mode. Good. That might help him keep his distance.
He was a guy and didn’t want to talk about this.
Here goes nothing.
“I don’t know if elves have periods, but I’m guessing that you have since you’ve been human.”
“Of course.” She flushed, obviously embarrassed.
“And I’d bet the club that your last one started about two weeks ago.”
This time her eyes widened in surprise. “How did you know?”
He didn’t bother telling her he’d scented it at the time. Women hated that for some reason. Instead, he gave her a slightly modified version. “Because twenty-eight days is the average human cycle, and you’re obviously right in the middle of that. I can smell the fact that you’re ovulating. Fertile. Your body wants to have sex, because it’s the right time of the month for you to get pregnant.” And his body wanted more than anything to be the one to knock her up. Damn it, now was
not
a good time for his alpha-wolf biological clock to kick in.
Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped. “Pregnant? Really? You believe that’s possible?”
Oh shit.
Instead of horrified, her expression looked downright hopeful. Greg felt like a giant anvil labeled Fate had dropped from the ceiling onto his head.
“This is not a good idea, princess. Remember things like bitchy elf queens, werewolf assassins and evil demons? Bad guys trying to burn down the bar? Besides, the cross-species thing never works out.” As soon as that popped out of his mouth, he wanted to bang his head against the floor. It was about the dumbest thing he’d ever said.
“It seems to be working for Meagan and Alaric, as well as for Jase and George, Aidan and Elise.”
Of course it was. “Besides, you might not be human forever, remember? Then what?” When she was back to being a more-or-less immortal Fae, what would she want with a hairy wolf like him?
“Then I’ll probably never have a child.” She chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip. “The Fae are not particularly fertile. And as an elf I was always considered, well, frigid.”
His laugh came out as a howl, and he was impressed that she didn’t even blink. “Frigid? You? Oh, princess, even before Queen Llyris changed you, you were one hot little number. Remember the hallway in Aidan’s mansion? I sure haven’t forgotten that it was you who practically jumped my bones.” He’d kissed her mostly to rile her, to crack her ice-queen façade, and it had worked beyond his wildest dreams. They’d damn near had sex in Aidan’s hallway.
“You’re right.” The little wrinkle was back between her brows, and Greg had to resist the urge to reach out and smooth it with a kiss. “It must be you. I’ve never reacted like that to anyone else.”
Possessive instincts he hadn’t known he had reared up at that comment, along with an urge to tell a few truths of his own. He settled for admitting to a fraction of what he felt. “Yeah well, you flip some new switches on me, too. That’s why we need to get out, now.”
“Because you don’t want to have sex with me?”
He rolled to his back, pointed to the tent in the front of his pants. “Does that look like I’m not interested?”
She stared, licking her lips, and the bulge grew even bigger, more painful. He scented her musk as she became hotter, wetter, and he knew he was fighting a losing battle. After bolting to his feet, he dashed up the stairs and slammed into the door with his shoulder over and over again, leaving dents in the steel, but failing to budge the latch. Finally, he slumped down onto the top step in defeat. “You’re going to have to lock me in the walk-in.”
Fee rolled her eyes. “Not a chance.”
“Fianna, this is your last warning. It’s a full moon, you’re in heat, and my control is slipping. If you don’t stop me somehow, you could be pregnant before morning.”
She tipped her head as if she were measuring her thoughts carefully. “And that would make you angry? You do not wish to be a father?” She edged toward the bottom step and lifted her face.
Of course he did. It was a desire that was hard-wired into him, part of the evolutionary job description for the alpha male of a pack, even such a small one. And he knew, abstractly, that one of these days, he was going to have to honor his responsibilities and take a mate. But not like this. “This is not a decision I want to make with my hormones, or with yours. Besides, when I do have children, I’d like to be married to their mother.”
That stopped her in her tracks. “Oh. I hadn’t thought of marriage.”
He barked a laugh. “No kidding. You haven’t thought, period. There’s a lot more to having kids than the process of making them. I can’t exactly see you changing diapers, driving carpool or cheering at soccer games.”
“I suppose not.” She moved back and slumped down onto a keg, her expression strained, even hurt, which was very bad for his resistance. He needed her to remain cool and distant. “In this world I wouldn’t have servants for such things, but I’ve noticed so much more closeness between parent and child here. It’s enviable. Besides, I could learn, couldn’t I? To drive, and…everything. I’m certain I could love a child. Or am I too self-absorbed even for that?”
He couldn’t bear the self-recrimination in her tone. Walking slowly down the stairs he shook his head. “Taking a bullet meant for Dina pretty much proved you’re not. I have no doubt of your ability to love, especially a child.” He’d never forget the sight of her lying on the floor, nearly dying from a gunshot meant to kill Aidan’s daughter. If Elise hadn’t been such a powerful healer, Fee wouldn’t have survived. The bitch who’d shot her had been lucky it was Lana who’d slit her throat. Greg wouldn’t have killed her nearly as quickly or cleanly.
When he reached Fee, he cupped her chin in his hand. “I’m sorry for implying otherwise. I don’t think either of us is ready for that step yet.” Not to mention that wolves mated for life, and he wasn’t sure Fee would understand that.
His body, though, had other ideas. Before he even noticed it, he’d sat down beside her and his wandering hands were up under her shirt again, finding all the soft curves and warm hollows. Judging by the way she melted against him, she enjoyed what he was doing as much as he liked doing it. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and inhaled her scent, before he caught himself and wrenched himself away, back to the other side of the space.
“So why can’t we have sex? I know there are ways to prevent conception. Even the Fae have condoms now.”
Greg winced and scrubbed at his face with his hands. “One thing we don’t have down here is any sort of birth control, so giving in to our instincts would be a really bad idea.” Why the hell hadn’t Lana or Meagan talked her into getting pills or something? For that matter, why didn’t he have condoms in his pocket or stashed in the restroom?
Idiot.
“I understand.” She moved over to stand in front of him. “I’m not very experienced at this sort of thing, but aren’t there…other ways we can give each other relief, without risking a child?”
The vision that popped into his head of her kneeling between his legs almost did the job for him. His dick pulsed, abrading itself against the front of his jeans. It took two tries before he could get a word out past his constricted throat. “Fianna, you don’t have to do that.”
She laid both hands on his shoulders and gazed up at him, her eyes darkened to the color of a windswept sea. “I want to. If this is the only way I can have you, I don’t want to miss out on it.”
“Oh, princess, this won’t be the end of anything. Just the beginning.” He knew a turning point when he came to one. Forget his qualms about dating an employee, about her being in his custody and under his protection. If they took this step, he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep from continuing their relationship until they were both tired of one another. Once they were out of there, once she was past the peak of her cycle, he fully intended to keep her in his bed until neither of them could walk.
He stood to kiss her, finally letting the reins off his desire. His arms around her waist crushed her against his chest as he plundered her mouth. She was so slender and delicate he was wary of hurting her, but she gripped his shoulders with a willowy strength that let him know she could hold her own. Her tongue tangled with his and she rubbed her breasts against his chest. Driven by the full moon and his alpha nature to exert his dominance, he thrust his tongue all the way into her mouth, back and forth in a raw imitation of what he’d rather be doing.
Fee moaned and sucked on his tongue.
Greg damn near came in his pants.
Fianna couldn’t believe this was finally happening.
Well, sort of happening at least. Greg stood to pull her into his arms. She slid her hands down Greg’s broad shoulders to his belt, hoping her nerves weren’t showing. Having never attempted anything like this, she was horribly afraid of doing something wrong.
“That’s it, princess, just like that.” His breath was warm against her ear as she fumbled with the buckle. “Though this might be more fun if you took your shirt off.” He pulled up the hem of her T-shirt and she obediently lifted her arms. In one smooth motion, he tugged off her top, along with the lacy bra she wore beneath it. Inhaling sharply, he pulled back and studied her, a feral smile on his darkly handsome face. “Ah, Fee, you’re breathtaking.”
“I’m too small.” Her hands flew up to cover her barely there breasts. Even for a Fae, she was a little on the flat side. Compared to humans and werewolves, she was positively deficient.
“No.” He pulled her hands away and ran a row of kisses along her collarbone. “Don’t compare yourself to anyone else. You’re just right for you. Delicate and dainty, with silky skin and pretty pink nipples, all scrunched up, all for me.”
Fianna looked down. Sure enough, the small nubbins had flushed a dark rose and tightened into firm beads. This was what he did to her, this and the damp ache between her thighs. As she watched, Greg bent his dark head and kissed first one and then the other. Sensation streaked through her, right to her core.
“Oh.” Her knees wobbled and she grabbed his waist for support.
A low rumble emerged from his throat. “Damn, woman, the things I want to do to you are illegal in most states.”
“Really?” Humans had laws about sex? Greg’s lips latched on to her nipple and she lost all track of rational thought.
Nothing had ever felt like this. The closest she’d ever come had been when he’d kissed her before, but now, with his lips on her bare skin, everything was intensified. His shoulder-length hair brushed against her belly as he sucked. He eased back down to a sitting position without pausing in his attentions, drawing her close between his spread legs. His erection, thicker than she’d imagined possible, pressed against her thigh. Instincts she hadn’t even known she possessed had her shifting to straddle his thigh. She lowered herself, so she could get even closer to that hardness.
When Greg switched breasts to suckle the other, she moaned his name and tangled her hands in his hair. Low in her belly, the pressure began to tighten into a knot and she arched into him, wanting more.
He supported her easily with one arm behind her bowed back. With his other hand, he unsnapped and unzipped her jeans before sliding his fingers inside her stretch-lace boy shorts. He slid the tips through her wet folds before rubbing gently against her clitoris. That simply, Fianna’s world exploded. Sparks of light flashed behind her eyelids, which had fluttered shut. Tingles radiated from her womb all the way to her fingers and toes. The strangled cry she heard surely couldn’t have come from her, but the gasping, ragged breathing did. All she could do was hold on to Greg’s shoulders as he gentled his fingers and lips, easing her down from her climax.
“Beautiful,” he murmured against her breastbone a few moments later. “Damn, woman, I can’t wait to see what it’s like to actually be inside you when you come like that.”
“I’ve never…” She gulped and swallowed hard. “I didn’t know that could happen.”
He straightened, pulling her into an upright position so he could gaze into her eyes. “Fianna, you can’t possibly mean you’re a virgin?” His dark brown eyes searched her face.
“No.” Would he think less of her for that admission? She knew her face must be scarlet with embarrassment. “One of my cousin’s friends approached me when I was younger, and I was curious enough to try. It was painful and messy and nothing at all like what we did.”
“The man was an idiot.”
“He told me I was frigid.”
“Then he was a liar
and
an idiot.” He kissed the tip of her nose.
“But I didn’t…I’ve never done
that
before, at least not with another person in the room.”
“You’ve never come from being petted? Or never at all, with a man?” He kissed her cheeks and then her lips, so she couldn’t answer right away.
“With anyone but myself. Lana took me to this shop and told me to buy a…”
“Vibrator?” he supplied.
Fianna nodded. “That’s the only way I’ve ever had an orgasm.” She’d read about sex and fantasized about it. Since being exiled to the mortal realm, she’d discovered a fondness for romance novels, especially the really steamy ones. Sitting on Greg’s lap, still in her jeans, though, was the closest she’d ever come to the kind of passion in the books. “And it was nothing like that.”
Greg moaned and licked her throat. “When you used that vibrator, were you thinking about anyone in particular?”
“You.” Of course. Even in her imagination, no one had ever excited her the way he did.
“One of these days, I’m going to watch,” he warned her. “For now, though…”
He lifted her off his lap and stood, holding her upright beside him as he grabbed a pile of white linen off a shelf behind him and laid it on the floor, unfolding it to reveal a sturdy tablecloth. “Dressing up the club was one of Lana’s experiments that didn’t work. It’s not much of a bed, princess, but it’s the best I can do.” He toed off his sneakers and shrugged out of his T-shirt. His chest was amazing—broad, sculpted and covered with a soft mat of dark hair. “Will you join me?” He reached for the button fly of his jeans.
Fianna nodded and stepped away, amazed that her legs would hold her. When she tucked her thumbs into the waistband of her jeans, though, he shook his head. “No. If we’re both naked, there’s no way I’ll be able to keep myself from taking you.”
She willed away the pang of hurt that zipped through her, even though she knew he was right. As much as she wanted to have children someday, it would be irresponsible to leap into parenthood based on nothing more than desire. She tried to convince herself that his determination to be cautious wasn’t a rejection of her.
He reached over and refastened the snap and zipper. “Later, Fee. I promise.”
With a nod, she placed her hands on his denims instead. “Show me what to do, Greg.” She kissed down the center of his chest, following a line of hair that bisected his rippling abdominals.
“Whatever feels good, princess.”
His jeans weren’t easy to open with his erection straining so strongly against the buttons, but she managed to get them undone. He eased out of his stretchy boxer-briefs while she pushed his pants down to his ankles. Greg kicked the denim aside and stood before her, his desire plain to see in the thick flesh that jutted proudly from a nest of dark hair. Fianna licked her lips, which had suddenly gone dry. How was she supposed to do this?
“Come here.” He knelt on the tablecloth and took her hands, pulling her down beside him. “We’ll start with this.” As he kissed her deeply, he eased down to lie on his side, drawing her with him.
This, she understood. Kissing Greg was the most natural thing in the world, and she barely even noticed when her hands started cruising over his taut muscle and tunneling through the hair on his chest. Her tongue ran across the edges of his teeth, which were surely a little sharper than they’d been before.
“Lower, princess.” Though his voice was little more than a guttural snarl, she wasn’t afraid. He took one of her hands in his and guided it down his belly even as he reclaimed her lips with his.
When her hand reached the solid length of him, she closed her fist around his shaft, or tried. Her fingers, which were long by human standards, didn’t quite meet. She smoothed them along the velvety skin that contrasted so drastically with the rigidity beneath. Greg was thicker than her one previous lover, and yet he had caused her pain. Perhaps it was better this way, though her body refused to believe it. Even after the strongest orgasm of her life, she wanted more. She wanted Greg. All of him.
For now though, she was thrilled with the idea of exploration. She played with him, learning his textures and shape until he groaned and covered her hand with his own. “Like this.”
He showed her what he liked and she followed his lead while she nuzzled her face into his chest. Greg kept one hand in her hair, holding her against him and clenched the other in the tablecloth.
She’d read enough to know a few things. Intending to take him in her mouth, she pulled her lips from his and started to kiss her way down his chest. To her surprise, he pulled her back and took her mouth again. “Later. I’m so close now…”
Moments later his spine arched up off the floor and he came, in long gushes of thick fluid that streaked his chest and hers. She flicked out her tongue and tasted a drop that had landed near her chin, fascinated by the salty, bitter taste.
“Thank you.” His voice in her hair was thick and gruff. “We should get dressed now, before I run out of willpower, princess.”
“Surely not?”
He grunted as her hand tightened around his still-hard length. “Apparently so.”
“I still ache, too,” she admitted, releasing his cock to lay her hand on his damp, sticky chest. “But we should both be sated. I don’t understand this at all.”
“Me either.” He sat up and pulled away from her, the fingers of one hand lacing with hers when she came to her knees. “But it would still be a bad idea to give in to it.”
She tried not to wince visibly. “I understand.”
He snorted out a laugh. “Good, because I sure don’t. Now why don’t you go clean up first?” He jerked his head toward the lavatory. “I’ll take care of the tablecloth.”
Biting her lip, Fianna nodded and fled.
Fuck.
He was the biggest bastard alive.
Greg used the tablecloth to wipe his chest and stuffed it into a garbage bag. Even after an orgasm that had nearly blown his head off, he still wanted her more than his next meal. Damn, this was getting bad. For a moment there, his fangs had extended. His urge to mark her had gotten that strong. Nothing like this had ever happened to him, full moon or no.
When Fianna returned from the restroom, fully clothed and with her hair smoothed back into its ponytail, he gathered up his clothes and went inside, washing with ice-cold water, even though he knew it wouldn’t help. All they had available were hand towels, so it took a while to dry off. By the time he was dressed, he had his hormones more or less under control.
Or so he thought until he stepped back into the storeroom and the scent of sex hit him like a sledgehammer.
Fee sat on the floor in one corner, legs curled beneath her, her back propped against a shelf, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Even disheveled as she was, her clothes still wrinkled and covered in soot and cleaning products, she was stunning.
To be on the safe side, Greg sat on the kegs as far from her as he could get.
“I still wish you’d consider moving out of the building until Beowulf, or whoever is going after werewolves, is taken care of. So far it’s only werewolves being targeted this time around. You’d be safe somewhere else.”
“I still have to have a job, don’t I?” She shot him a pointed glance. “I don’t recall the queen rescinding the ‘menial labor’ portion of my sentence.”
“We’ll lie.” What did he care what some elven bitch wanted? “Meagan and Ric would claim you’re working as their housekeeper or something.”
She lifted one eyebrow. “And how am I supposed to earn a living? They already have a housekeeper.”
Greg felt a growl start low in his chest. “I’ll keep up your wages until it’s safe for you to come back.”
“And the other waitstaff, the cooks, the bartenders?” She studied her fingernails. “Are you going to send them away, too, just in case? How about the customers? Will you close the club to make sure they don’t accidentally get caught in the crossfire?”
“The others don’t live in the building.” And none of them was Fee. What the hell was he supposed to do?
Out of the blue, footsteps and voices above their heads caught Greg’s attention and he ran up to the locked door.
“What the fuck?” he muttered. It sounded like Desmond Sutton, a local mage who didn’t think much of werewolves and usually couldn’t be bothered to step foot in the club.
“Damn, this looks bad.” That voice belonged to Ric Thornhill, who yelled, “Anybody home? Is everyone all right?”
Greg pounded on the basement door and shouted, “In here.”
Moments later, the door flew open and Greg and Fianna joined Ric and Desmond in the thoroughly demolished kitchen.
“Holy shit.” Greg looked around in dismay. About the only thing he could say on the plus side was at least there hadn’t been another fire. This mess looked to have been made with baseball bats or sledgehammers. The stainless steel side-by-side refrigerator and the flat-top grill and fryer were probably salvageable, along with maybe half the pots and pans. The rest would have to go. “Well, the club might open later this week, but it will be with nothing but popcorn and peanuts for food.”
“There’s more.” Desmond, tall despite his half-Chinese heritage, and all lean, ropy muscle, absently used magic to sweep some broken glass off a counter and sat on the steel surface. “Yours isn’t the only place in town that’s been hit.”
“A bakery in Hamtramck has been completely wiped out.” Ric frowned. “The family lived above it. Even the kids were killed.”
“Fuck.” Greg sagged onto a stool by the prep counter, after first knocking debris off the old-fashioned way, with his hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fee do the same. “Fire?”
Des nodded. “You guys probably need to post watch 24/7. I’ve got some friends with a private security company that doesn’t ask any questions when weird shit happens.”
Greg almost smiled. “In other words, witches and wizards.” Des worked for an elite group of magic users called the
Wyndewin
League, who essentially policed other paranormals. The dude’s grudge against werewolves might have been either personal or professional, but he’d unbent some since Greg and George had helped rescue his niece from her sidhe kidnappers last month. Every so often, Greg found himself almost liking the human mage. He sure as hell respected him.