Amber…Now that was a female she despised. The healer had been a big, fat pain in the padded ass since she arrived. The amount of times she had “coincidentally” turned up wherever Shaya and Nick were was truly unreal. Of course she always made a point of hugging him or touching him in some way, touching him with a familiarity that was way too intimate.
Then there were the times she turned up at Nick’s motor home—oh yeah, Shaya had noticed and watched carefully from her window. He never let Amber inside, always kept her on the doorstep as they briefly chatted. Whenever Shaya had asked Nick about it later, he’d told her that Amber liked to keep him updated on what was happening with Roni, but she got the feeling there was more to it.
Amber wasn’t mean to Shaya. No, she was something much worse—sickly sweet and friendly, and if Shaya hadn’t seen the occasional flash of jealousy and contempt in Amber’s eyes, she might have bought the act. Shaya would have preferred bitchiness, because then she could have said a few choice words to the female and insisted that she stay away from Nick. But while Amber was being friendly, Shaya would simply look unreasonable, mean, and even irrational if she began mouthing off at the healer…and maybe that was why Amber did it. This way, she got to be around Nick more.
When Paisley returned to the reception desk to answer the phone, Kent said, “Well, if you’re set on going on this date, you can at least tell me about him.”
“His name’s Simon. He’s a web designer.”
“Sounds boring.”
“All you’ve heard is his name and occupation.”
“Exactly. Already he sounds boring. Now, if he was a tall, ash-blond alpha male with an inner wolf—”
“Kent,” she groaned.
“Fine. So where are you going on this date?”
“We’re going to the Moroccan restaurant near your place.”
One of his brows lifted. “Oooh, maybe I’ll pop in then.”
“No. You’ll grill him like he’s being interrogated for a murder charge.”
“Yes, for your own good. For all you know, he could be a murderer. An ax murderer, even. There could be bodies hidden under his patio.”
She growled, “You’re a pain in my ass.”
He continued to be a pain in her ass all day—dedicated it to poking fun at a guy he hadn’t even met, calling him dull and wimpy as well as possibly homicidal. But she still made him give her a ride to the restaurant after work. She had changed clothes in the salon, ready for her date. Of course Kent wished her luck, despite his disapproval, but as he drove away from the restaurant, there was a strange glint in his eyes that she hadn’t liked—guilt, maybe?
Shrugging off the matter, she entered the restaurant to find that Simon was already there. He had politeness down to a tee—helping her remove her coat, pulling out her chair, letting her order first. Yes, this could work.
Nick was watching TV with Bruce when his cell phone rang. Derren. “Yup?”
“We have a situation. And you’re not going to like it.”
Instantly Nick was on his feet. There hadn’t been any panic in Derren’s tone, but there was anger there. “What is it?”
“I followed Shaya to make sure she got to Kent’s place safely, like you asked.” There was a short pause. “On the upside, none of the Nazi’s guys or the extremists are on her tail.”
“The downside?”
After another pause, Derren sighed. “She didn’t go to Kent’s place. She’s at a restaurant. According to Kent here—who had apparently noticed me following him and came straight to my SUV in the parking lot to ask me to call you—she’s on a date.”
“A date?” Nick bit out. Son of a bitch.
Again Shaya had to resist the urge to fiddle with her new violet-black skirt. It had been one of those love-at-first-sight purchases. She loved how the outer edges, running from her hips to just over mid-thigh, looked to be laced up—as if just a tug would have the whole thing on the floor. She also loved the feel of the black silk underskirt against her skin. Shame it hadn’t had some kind of warning label to alert her to the fact that whenever she sat down it was going to creep up her thighs.
She smiled at Simon as he poured more wine into her glass. The guy had been okay so far. The date, as a whole, had been okay so far too. Therein lay the problem: it was “okay.” There was no sexual tension, though he had given her compliments that indicated he would happily take over for her vibrator. There was no teasing between them or banter. He seemed to be too nervous to joke.
She had to give him credit where it was due, however—he was doing a fantastic job at not staring at her breasts, despite that her top showed off her cleavage. Whenever his eyes did drift down to them, a blush would stain his cheeks and he would instantly look away. As she gazed at him now and took everything into account that she had learned about him, she realized something: He was exactly the librarian-type of guy Paisley had described as perfect for her.
But this was what Shaya wanted, wasn’t it? Someone sensitive whom she could rely on not to hurt her the way she had already been hurt enough times before. Yes, he was missing the dominant streak that her submissive nature craved, but sometimes people had to compromise. So he would never take control and make her wet with just a look the way a certain alpha wolf could, but so what? Anyway, for all she knew, Simon could be a real Casanova in the bedroom. He could. Given the chance, there could be real passion between the two of them. They could be explosive.
Or she could be living in a fantasy world.
Maybe she was just one of those women destined to go through life traveling from one bad relationship to another. If that was the case, maybe sticking to flings would be better—no emotions, no strings, no rules, no pressure. It was just something based around the primitive need for sex. But a lifetime of that seemed sort of…cold. Shaya wanted warm. No, she wanted hot.
Looking at Simon again, she acknowledged that there wasn’t going to be anything hot between them. But there could be warmth. If that was all she could have, maybe she should accept that, maybe—
The sounds of chairs being moved and the feeling of being crowded stole her from her thoughts. Then all of a sudden there were three other people seated at their table, and the one practically fused to her side had braced his arm over the back of her chair and fisted a hand in her hair in a shifter gesture of ownership. Well shit.
“Hello, Shay,” rumbled Nick, though he didn’t look at her. He only had eyes for the nervous male opposite him. Despite the dark emotions circulating through Nick, his voice was surprisingly even. He couldn’t believe that she’d done this. He’d thought he was making progress, thought she was coming to accept his part in her life. And he’d hoped to God that meant she’d soon let him in—even if it was only slightly. He was fine with letting things move at her pace, despite how much it was killing him not to claim her. But he wasn’t fine with her dating other guys. And if she’d thought differently, she didn’t know him at all.
Shaya chanced a look at Nick’s flawless face, and it verified what his stiff posture hinted at. He was boiling with anger. As he met her gaze, his eyes warned her not to challenge him. Her wolf shrank away—not out of fear, but because she had no intention of taking any blame here; her wolf hadn’t liked being around the other male and had done nothing but growl at him. Both Derren and Kent were lazed in their seats with their arms folded over their chests, glaring at Simon like he had tried to assault her or something.
“Um…is, um, everything o-okay?” asked Simon nervously.
Feeling overwhelmed by Nick and the dark energy spilling from him, Shaya tried to shift away from him, but he growled and clamped his hand around the nape of her neck. When she stilled, he gently massaged her nape, almost as if he was rewarding her. Her wolf relaxed slightly at his touch.
“Why don’t you introduce us, Shay,” said Nick.
She cleared her throat. “Guys, this is Simon. Simon, this is Kent, Derren, and Nick.” Picking up her wine glass, she took a long, comforting gulp.
“Nice to meet you all.” Simon’s eyes danced from her to Nick repeatedly, obviously noticing Nick’s proprietary behavior.
“What do you do for a living, Simon?” asked Nick casually, needing to know every detail about this person, needing to create a profile in his head so he could figure out what the fuck it was that made Shaya want him over her mate. Her mate.
“I, well, I’m a web designer,” replied Simon. Shaya thought he was most likely wondering why Nick’s tone was that of a job interviewer.
“A web designer? Really? I bet that’s exciting.” He ran his hand through Shaya’s hair, because although he was infuriated with her, she was literally the only thing that could ever keep him calm in a situation where his control was being so severely tested. If he didn’t calm down, the human was dead. “Have you always been a web designer?”
“Well, I used to be a librarian when I—”
All conversation halted as Shaya almost choked on her drink. Librarian? No, the universe couldn’t want to play that much of a joke on her, surely. Nick patted and rubbed her upper back.
“You ever been married?” asked Nick.
“Married? Oh no, never.”
“Got any kids?”
“No.”
Seeing that Simon’s expression was begging for an explanation as to why he was being questioned, Shaya went to end this whole thing. “Nick, I—” She gasped as he bit her earlobe punishingly.
Nick continued, still smiling at Simon. “What word would you use to describe yourself?”
“What word would you use to describe yourself?” she snapped at Nick.
He met her gaze. “Pissed.”
The sound of Simon clearing his throat nervously had them returning their focus to him. His smile was anxious. “Um…you two seem…close.” It was obvious to Shaya that he was dying to just ask Nick outright why he was behaving so possessively with her, probably worried he had unknowingly gone out on a date with another guy’s girlfriend. But Nick really had that school principal “don’t speak unless spoken to” vibe going on at the moment.
“Yes, we’re close.” Nick punctuated that with a nip to her neck.
The second Shaya’s head whipped around to glare at him, his eyes cautioned her not to fight him. The stubborn part of her wanted to, but the glint of betrayal in his gaze halted her. As his eyes turned wolf for a split second, Shaya saw that his wolf was just as angry with her. And rightly so, she accepted with an inward sigh. Her own wolf was angry with her, in fact. This was one more date to add to those she’d been on back in California after he’d found and failed to claim her—more betrayal, from his point of view.
“How about you tell me how you two met.”
Simon shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Um, we met this morning in the salon when Shaya cut my…”
The rest of Simon’s words were lost as a sharp pain lanced through Nick’s head. Great. Another headache was coming on. Not that it was particularly a shock, given his current stressful state. He needed to get out of this place now. He sure as shit wasn’t going to leave Shaya behind. “Well, it’s been great talking to you, Simon. Baby, say bye to Simon.”
Not sure if it was a good idea for them to be alone together right now, Shaya cautiously began, “Nick—” But he wasn’t listening. He cupped her elbow, gently pulling her to her feet as he rose to his. His eyes were locked on her like a predator watching its prey that it suspected was about to flee…which wasn’t far from the truth.
A part of her was thrilled about the effect this had had on him—it showed that he cared, that he considered her to be as important to him as she needed to feel that she was, that it wasn’t just all a “mine” thing and there was more to his actions than a sense of ownership. But a part of her was nervous as hell. Not that she thought he would harm her. No, never that. Still, the guy could be unnerving at the best of the times. Now, it was bad.
With his hand caging her wrist, he guided her at a brisk pace out of the restaurant and into the Mercedes. Bracing herself for a typical dominant male explosion, Shaya clicked on her belt and waited. But that explosion didn’t come. Nick calmly started the engine and calmly drove out of the parking lot. Then he calmly drove along the main road en route to her home. And she quickly discovered that the silence was much worse than a rage.
She kept expecting him to begin yelling any second, but he didn’t. He remained silent the entire journey. Pulling up outside her house, he was out of the car before she could say a word, and then he was opening the passenger door for her. But he didn’t look at her. Fine. If he wanted to brood, she’d leave him to brood.
She stomped up the driveway and unlocked her front door, intent on letting him stew. But then she changed her mind. Twirling sharply, she growled. “Why did you drag me out of there if you’re going to give me the silent treatment? If you’ve got something to say, say it. If you want to yell at me, do it.”
“Go inside. We’ll talk tomorrow. I’m not arguing with you in the middle of the street, and I’m definitely not doing it when we’ve got an audience.” The Nazi’s wolves were parked on the opposite side of the road, and the humans were about five car spaces away from the motor home.
“So come over here then.” It was a dare, and she wasn’t sure where the hell it had come from. No alpha would ignore a dare, and it seemed that her alpha—yes, her alpha—was no different.
Despite that Nick badly needed his pills, he ignored the pain and slowly began to cover the distance between him and Shaya. He half-expected her to run inside and shut the door, but she didn’t react in any way—didn’t cower, didn’t lower her eyes, didn’t fidget or back away. Instead, she remained where she stood in the doorway with her head held high, shoulders straight, and maintaining eye contact. Good girl.
“Now if you want to subject me to a lecture, do it.”
“I have no idea what to say. I’ve been patient, Shay. I’ve let things move at your pace even though it hurts on every level to hold back. And what do you do? Go on a date with a goofy web designer who blushes even more than you do. The only reason he’s still conscious is that Derren and Kent managed to calm me down to some extent before I got inside the restaurant. Why didn’t you tell me about your date? Had you planned to keep it from me altogether?”
“I was going to tell you afterward.”
“You know, Shaya, if you’d wanted to hurt me, you could have just stabbed me in the fucking chest and got it over with.”
Guilt nibbled even harder at Shaya as she heard the despondency in his voice. She also found that she didn’t like that he’d called her “Shaya.” She’d been getting used to him shortening her name, and she even kind of liked it. He abandoned you, remember, a voice inside her snapped. Yes, he had. But he had also apologized to her, had also been gentle with her, and had never once lost his patience with her no matter what she said or did. Even when she’d physically hurt him that first night, he’d never hurt her, never tried to intimidate her, and never tried to suppress her with his dominant vibes. More importantly, he hadn’t left her no matter what she’d done. “It wasn’t that I wanted to hurt you.”
“Oh, really?” His voice dripped with skepticism.
“Okay, maybe I wanted you to hurt a little. But I needed to know you weren’t going to abandon me again.”
“Ah, I see; well I’m so glad I passed your little test,” he said bitterly. At this point, his head was starting to pound so hard that the sound of his own voice hurt. “What you’re saying then is that, basically, everything I’ve done since I got here hasn’t made an ounce of difference to you.”
“That’s not what I meant. If you want the truth—”
“Oh yeah, I want the truth.”
“—it’s working. But don’t you get it? I never wanted it to work, but it has. I never wanted you to worm your way into my life, but you have. I never wanted to care if you left, but I do. I never wanted to dream about you, but I do, and then I wake up horny with no relief in sight.”
“You want relief?” Quiet, gruff words.
She tensed. Before she could even think to answer, he’d pushed her inside the house, kicked the door shut, and slammed her against the wall. Then his mouth was on hers and he was devouring her. There was nothing gentle or coaxing about the kiss. His mouth ravished hers, his tongue forcefully thrust into her mouth, and he kissed her like it was the last thing he would do before he died. It was deep, commanding, devastating. The force with which he took her mouth should have scared her, but instead she was on fire, and all she could do was kiss him back. He wouldn’t have settled for anything else.
Both his hands threaded into her hair, angling her head exactly how he wanted it. There was no denying that just then his lips and tongue completely owned her. It felt like a claiming, a promise, and a warning. Then he was sucking on her tongue while digging his hips into hers, crowding her with his body in a way that had her level of arousal spiking. As one hand splayed possessively over her stomach, the other suddenly yanked on her hair, forcing her head back and breaking the kiss. His face loomed over hers; his expression was fierce.
“I’m not going to fuck you.” As he spoke, he slid the hand on her stomach down to the hem of her skirt and bunched it up around her waist. “I’m not going to be some casual encounter. I want you to want me, your mate—not sex. But if you need relief that badly, I’ll give it to you.” He cupped her hard. Gasping, she reflexively snapped her legs together, effectively trapping his hand. He shook his head, his gaze chastising. “Open your legs.”
“What?” she squeaked at the very firm command, feeling off-balance by his sudden change of mood. He didn’t repeat himself, just raised an expectant brow at her. Gulping, Shaya slowly did as he’d asked.
He pushed two fingers past her panties and drove them into her. So hot and wet. “Mine, Shaya. Understand? You’re mine, and this pussy is mine. And if you ever again think about giving another guy what’s mine, I’ll kill him. I will. I’ll fucking tear him apart, and then I’ll spank your ass so goddamn hard, you won’t be able to sit down for a week.”