Shifters, Secrets & Surprises Page 17

  “Well. Allies are good, especially allies with deep roots. History is important, almost as important as intentions.”

  “I… agree.”

  Asiane snorted. “Stop mate-hunting, mother.”

  “Strength lies in numbers, and in the power of your extended kin. You should both be mate-hunting.”

  Asiane slanted a look at Rebekah. “You said you had some moves to show the girls? Come, we could all use a few minutes of fresh air. The backyard is secure.”

  * * *

  Family came first, but part of his duty in caring for his family was maintaining the health of his business. So he took a few moments to respond to email, reschedule the appointment he’d cancelled. The tone of the representative was increasingly testy these days – and deservedly so. With a project deadline coming soon, Daamin knew he was the one holding up progress.

  And then… the human woman in his home was Rebekah of Clan Conroy. Shifters sometimes used their Clan names in lieu of a family surname when introducing themselves. It wouldn’t be unusual for Rebekah to have picked up on that habit.

  But how many R. Conroy’s were there? Besides the R. Conroy staying in his living room, who spent the last several hours suppressing colorful language when describing the individual who kept cancelling meetings on her… as he’d been cancelling meetings with R. Conroy.

  Daamin didn’t quite know what to do with the newfound knowledge, so he decided to carry on as if he hadn’t learned anything, and allow events to unfold.

  Besides, there was also the other email, the one he’d been pretending wasn’t sitting in the top of his folder, bolded, waiting for his attention. With an unexpectedly heavy heart, he opened it, forcing himself to read through the brief lines.

  “We’ve reviewed your request and are happy to match you with a female from a suitable Den, meeting the requirements you specified. We feel the genetic diversity you bring to our Territory is especially beneficial, and look forward to similar requests from your Den mates as they come of age. We’ve attached the file of the female who has greed to the match. We assure you she is of good family, well-educated, healthy and capable of bearing cubs and is also hardy of character and capable of defending self and kin. Please notify us ASAP so arrangements may proceed forthwith.”

  Gritting his teeth, he sent a brief reply. “Please commence arrangements for after the Solstice holiday. I am pleased with your choice and look forward to making her acquaintance.”

  He didn’t even open her file. He didn’t care. No matter what she looked like, or how poor her temperament, he needed allies. And protector mates for his sisters. He would sacrifice himself to get a solid foothold in a local Clan to find them ideal males.

  As he shut down the laptop, thinking of the vibrant human female waiting for him in the living room, he realized the taste in his mouth was ashes.

  * * *

  Rebekah demonstrated a series of holds, showing the girls how to restrain a man no matter what size, take him down to the floor or slam him against a wall and use his attempts to escape against him, causing pain. They weren’t difficult, they were all about using leverage and learning the exact amounts of pressure to apply to cause anything from discomfort to excruciating pain. The grass was damp and slippery from the sprinkling of snow the prior evening, so she had to pay close attention to her balance. Even if she was the teacher and they the pupil – they were Bear. And she was human.

  The screen door squeaked open and banged shut just as Talia brought Rebekah down to the grass, twisting her arms in a way that made Rebekah wonder if she’d done something to offend the girl.

  “That looks… uncomfortable,” Daamin’s voice said from above her.

  “Talia appears to be retaining my instruction quite well,” Rebekah said into the grass.

  A snort and giggle later, and the twin released Rebekah, who pushed to her feet, subtly moving her shoulders and suppressing her wince. Everything felt intact, but one never knew with Bears.

  She turned, meeting Daamin’s eyes. He watched her, hands in his pockets, expression inscrutable. “I think I heard your cell go off,” he said. “Maybe it’s your client?”

  Rebekah headed inside, a hound scenting blood. She’d left the cell at her place on the table. Dishes were already cleared, disappointing her a bit. She’d kinda wanted to finish the meal. Muriel poked her head out of the kitchen.

  “Rebekah, I put your dinner in a container. A girl with your shape needs plenty of calories.”

  “She thinks you’re too skinny,” Asiane said, entering the house.

  Rebekah snorted, typing a message on her cell. “Skinny shaming now, are we?”

  Muriel sniffed. “My food – it will make a proper female of you.”

  She didn’t doubt it. “Ha! Done avoiding me, huh? I guess my last message must have worked. Sometimes you just can’t be nice.”

  “No, indeed,” Daamin said, voice silky smooth as he joined his sister. “The girls will continue to practice for a few more minutes. Rebekah, don’t allow us to hold you past your time. I know you have commitments.”

  The brushoff might have bothered her, but she didn’t think he meant it like that, they were far too eager for her help in contacting potential allies, and he was absolutely right – she needed to get back to her hotel and get some work done.

  “Yeah. Business waits on no woman.”

  “I’ll take you to your hotel.”

  She met eyes the rich color of the carob powder Aunt Norelle had tried to fob off on her once. Eyes she could sink into, especially when they looked at her as if…

  “Thanks,” she said, cutting off the thought. “I’ll grab my dinner.” Rebekah grinned. “Can’t let food go to waste.”

  * * *

  The ride to the hotel was mostly quiet. She ignored an occasional sidelong glance, the line of her body acutely aware of his presence a few inches away. Well – not that a body could be aware of anything. But sometimes it felt as if her body had a mind of its own.

  Desires of its own, despite her better judgment.

  Desires that had her asking him up for a drink before sending him on his way. And trying to sound all casual like it was just some coffee between new friends, an after dinner bit of socializing.

  He regarded her for a moment, gaze steady. “Alright, Rebekah. I’ll come up for a… drink.”

  It wasn’t like this was the first time she’d sweet-talked a man into no strings attached sex – and it wasn’t like Daamin was unwilling. She just had to brush against his arm to feel the tension in the hard bicep. The third time she ‘brushed’ against him in the elevator, he grabbed her upper arm, pulling her against his chest and staring down at her with the calm, knowing eyes of a male who’d been onto the game all along – and probably thought he was the one in charge, anyway.

  “Rebekah, did you really want coffee when we get to your room?”

  She frowned up at him. He wasn’t that much taller than her, but the self-contained assurance in his movements made him seem taller. More… dominant. But not in an asshole way.

  “Of course I want coffee. There are certain social niceties-”

  “You don’t look like a female who cares about social niceties.”

  She considered him. Well, when she’d been a teenager he would have been right. A sullen, rebellious to any kind of authority teenager. But she had mostly grown out of that, assured enough of her own personal power and autonomy that she didn’t need to be rebellious any more. At least not for the sake of rebellion.

  “There’s more to me than my looks.”

  He smiled, the dimples slowly deepening. “The looks are very pleasing, though.”

  She sighed, pleased, but rolled her eyes. Males were so superficial, but they almost couldn’t help themselves. Still, it was nice to feel appreciated.

  Rebekah led him through the blue carpeted hallway, running fingers along the textured wallpaper because she enjoyed the tactile contact. Slid the keycard into the small bedroom and walked in,
Daamin at her heels.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” she said, dropping her purse on the counter and moving to the fridge. She always booked hotels with kitchens because she was a late night snacker and preferred her snacks be actual food rather than chips. Liam had spoiled her, she supposed.

  “I have white wine.”

  She turned and he was right there, plucking the small bottles from her hands. “I don’t need wine to want you,” he said.

  “You can’t say things like that to me,” she said, unresisting when he took her hand and pulled her towards the sleek grey couch.

  “Why not?”

  “Because it makes me-” want things. Believe things that weren’t possible.

  He pulled her down onto his lap, a finger rubbing her bottom lip. “Makes you vulnerable? I am the one who has been lured.” He lowered his head, pressing a kiss against her neck as he swept her hair to one side. “Seduced.”

  Rebekah shivered, body clenching as his teeth nibble at her skin. “Who is seducing whom?”

  He slid the jacket from her shoulders, baring her arms in the business tank top. Rebekah shifted on his lap, straddling him, and strong hands gripped her waist, running up and down her rib cage as loamy eyes lightened to an umber burn. Between her thighs, even covered by the layer of denim, she felt his hardness. Not that she needed to feel it. The pressure of his hands, the brightness of his eyes and the way his mouth latched onto her neck a second time, nips intensifying into tiny bites…

  Rebekah buried hands in his hair. “Don’t bite me,” she warned. “Not with Bear teeth.”

  “Fangs,” he said against her neck. “Kiss me then. Distract me from thinking thoughts I shouldn’t be thinking.”

  She distracted him real quick, worried about those thoughts. But then worry evaporated because all she could think of was how she wanted more of his hands, now underneath her tank and cupping her breasts. Wanted them all over her naked body. Her hips ground against him.

  “I don’t need foreplay,” she said, voice harsh. “I just want you inside me.”

  Daamin rose, Rebekah’s legs wrapping around his waist as he walked them to the bed. He paused long enough to kick off shoes and then peeled the clothing from her body, the slow steadiness of his personality gone. In front of her stood a male intent on devouring. When she was bare, legs splayed open before him, he did pause, running a finger along her slit, dipping it into her channel. Rebekah hissed, hips arching.

  “No teasing,” she said.

  He unbuttoned his shirt, discarding pants and then was before her, deep golden brown skin silk taut over lean muscles, dark hair a delicious spatter across chest and arms, the line of it trailing down to a thick nest at his groin. Rebekah licked her lips, sat up and wrapped her hand around his length. He inhaled sharply, head lolling back as his eyes closed. Hot, thick in her hand, pulsing with life and energy. His eyes opened.

  “Now who is teasing?”

  Not her. Rebekah flipped over onto her knees, knowing what she wanted. Him buried deep inside, the angle so sharp pain blended in pleasure.

  Looking over her shoulder at a male gone still with desire, she said, “Take me. No teasing allowed.”

  Hands locked around her hips. Rebekah spread her legs even wider, arching the small of her back as his cock nudged her entrance.

  “Hard,” she said. “Fast. No mercy.”

  A hand buried in her hair. “I’m a Bear. I could hurt you.”

  “I enjoy the pain.”

  A sudden sting on her buttocks, a sharp ache as he pushed inside her, no preliminaries, just a male following instructions.

  Rebekah gasped, breath gone for a moment. A broken, throaty laugh escaped her lips as he withdrew, then pounded inside her again, the stroke accompanied by another stinging slap.

  “Oh, fuck. Yes, again.”

  She moaned, the force of his body slamming into hers exquisite. He played with her, long sweet strokes followed by staccato, nearly harsh strokes, the head of his cock angled perfectly against her inner spot. He controlled her hips effortlessly, squeezing as she tried to shift, bringing her right back to him.

  Then he leaned over her, hands sliding around her front to accost her breasts, plucking at the nipples and twisting. Not gentle.

  “That’s for disobeying me twice,” he said. He ground inside her, rhythm punishing. Mocking her endurance as her arms began to tremble from the fatigue of drawn-out pleasure.

  Rebekah gritted her teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing her cry out. “Not yours,” she said.

  “Really?” His voice mocked her. Teeth in her neck, not quite breaking skin. Cock in her body, fingers squeezing her breasts. “It feels like you’re mine. It feels like you’re trying not to scream my name.”

  She couldn’t respond, couldn’t contradict the ragged vow in his voice. Her orgasm crested, pussy clenching tight in waves of sensation.

  “Good,” Daamin said, voice dark. Satisfied. “Now it’s my turn.”

  He fucked her for several more strokes, Rebekah whimpering when it almost reached the point where her knees wanted to collapse. She couldn’t remember when she’d been used so well, given so much pleasure and with so little effort.

  A hoarse cry over her and hot seed filled her body. He emptied himself in her body, breathing harsh. Slid out with a groan, juices crawling down her thighs. A kiss on her buttocks, the soft caress of his hand as if to thank her.

  Rebekah crawled forward until she could drape herself over a fat pillow and collapsed. “A nerd in the streets and a beast in the sheets,” she muttered in the pillow.

  Weight settled next to her, the feel of his gaze on the back of her neck. “Are you a cuddler?”

  Bears. Rebekah sighed, lifting her head and he smiled at her, fangs still a little too sharp for her liking, but happy. Him, not the fangs. Daamin positioned their bodies until they were spooning, the shifter post coital need for touch evident in how he draped both an arm and leg over her.

  “Shifters,” she said.

  He nipped her jaw. “I resent the nerd comment.”

  Chapter Eight

  She fell asleep on him. Pride swelled in Daamin’s chest. Only a well satisfied female, and one who felt safe in his protection, would fall asleep so easily. After a while he left her in the bed, decision made, and sent a quick email to the Mother’s Council.

  He didn’t need their arranged bride. He had the perfect one waiting for him in the bed.

  * * *

  The harpsichord woke her before the sun drug itself out of bed. A light under the bathroom door and the sound of a shower told her where Daamin was. The stickiness between her sore thighs told her she’d soon be joining him. After she took care of the messages on her phone.

  Rebekah tapped on the notification, a text from Gwenafar. Read the terse two sentence instruction and her pleasant mood dissolved.

  Your intended mate reneged. You need to come home so we can salvage the situation. He was perfect for you.- Gwenafar

  Rebekah replied, a grim stone of acceptance settling low in her belly.

  Does it matter? Find another one.

  She didn’t have to wait long for a reply.

  No. Come home today, we’ll strategize. I mean it. This one was a perfect match. I won’t be so easily brushed aside. It’s an insult.- Gwenafar

  And that was the real issue. The male had accepted, and then summarily rejected Gwenafar’s relation. Though Rebekah was certain Grams thought the match was perfect, if she said so. Grams wasn’t a liar. Glancing at the bathroom door as the water shut off, Rebekah knew she’d either have to scramble to sneak out, which she didn’t have enough time to do, or get Daamin to leave long enough for her to pack up and vamoose.

  She bent over the counter, hand pressed into her stomach as a ripping pain tore through her. She wasn’t sure if it was physical, or the anguish of leaving. Anguish she had no business feeling. Just because he seemed perfect didn’t mean he was. After all, two days of acquaintance was
n’t nearly enough rope to hand a man in order to hang himself. Most of them could maintain good behavior for at least three days.

  “Are you ill?” Daamin asked, voice sharp when the door opened suddenly.

  Rebekah straightened. “Just some cramps.” She tried to smile. “Probably premenstrual.”

  He froze in the act of drying his hair. Another towel was slung loosely around his hips, a cute sign of modesty. Daamin cleared his throat. “Are you on birth control?”

  “Yes.” She’d dug out her old, unopened pack of pills from last year’s prescription just last week when she’d decided it was time to get some groove back.

  He let out a breath. “Good. You would make a good mother, Rebekah. But… I cannot have cubs outside of a mating.”

  She nodded, not offended by the quiet words. She didn’t know why he thought she would make a good mother, but she was definitely off the mating market.

  “You hungry?” she asked. “There’s a diner down the street that does Belgian waffles.”

  He approached, lowering his head to place a sweet morning kiss on her lips. “That is a female’s way of telling a male to go hunt her breakfast.”

  Rebekah smiled, though with every word and light touch her mood darkened. “Yeah. With strawberries.”

  “Coming right up, habibti.”

  He pulled on his clothing and left the room a few minutes later, Rebekah puttering around as if she was about to take a shower. She let herself take a five-minute shower because she didn’t want to go home with the scent of another male on her skin, and because she needed to make herself wait long enough to ensure he’d cleared the immediate area.

  After a quick dry and throwing on jeans and a cable sweater, she threw her things in her bag and left the room, penning a quick note for him at the front desk. She didn’t want him to feel disrespected, just understand she was trying to make the break clean and that she would honor her word and try her best to send allies his way.

  But it would be impossible to see him again.