Bad Moon Rising (2 page)

A second set of headlights flashing through the room divided his attention. He had made only one phone call.

“Stop!” he barked at Meg, as she reached for the door handle. In a few quick strides he positioned himself between her and the door, while she looked up at him with startled eyes. He nudged her away.

“Go over there with Tara. Let me see who this is.”

He waited until she was across the room before easing the door open in time to see Darius sending Randall off. Opening it wider, he moved aside for Darius and retreated to Tara’s side.

“Darius!” Meg squealed and rushed across the room. Trey watched, jealousy eating at him as the big man, one of the very few he counted as a friend, swept his mate up in a fierce clasp. He wondered what it would take to get Tara to greet him like that. Even as an observer, the kiss was searing, and he looked away.

Automatically his gaze sought her out, also watching the lovers and gaping in disbelief at her relative. Amusement broke jealousy’s grip.

Her gaze snapped to him, and he enjoyed the flush that rushed over her skin. He started to reach for her when he heard Darius’s humor filled voice behind him.

“Trey, I seem to remember you saying you weren’t going to lose your head when it happened to you.”

He shot Darius a cautioning look and a slight head shake. Tara was still in the dark about what they were, and her role in his life. It was obvious Darius took the hint when his eyebrow arched in disapproval.

Trey ignored him. He was used to going his own way.

Reaching for Tara’s keys, he asked, “Are you ready to go?”

“What are you doing?” Obviously irritated, she looked between his face and her keys in his hand.

She held her palm out. “Give those back. Please.”

Sighing, he laced their fingers together. “I’m taking you home. Get 10

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over it.”

He wondered if he could get away with taking her to the house a mile down the road that he’d just bought, but one look at her drawn face convinced him not to try. She may have felt something between them, but she obviously wasn’t happy with it.

“Meg will vouch for me. I’m perfectly safe,” he said, trying to look innocent.

“Sure you are,” she said, a grin tugging the corners of her lips when Meg nodded. Theatrically she sighed, moved out of his grasp, and picked up her bag.

“Let’s go then. I have to be at work at three, and the night ain’t getting any younger.”

* * * * *

The car ride was disturbingly silent. Her SUV had never felt so closed in before, as it did with the big man seated next to her. She had started to give him directions when they left Meg’s, but his curt, “I know where you live,” had shut her up.

It surprised her that she wasn’t creeped out that he knew. Instead she was curious and, okay, seriously turned on. How had she ended up with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome himself, Trey Williams, the mysterious private investigator who recently bought old man MacCallister’s company?

Meg said he was ok. And a witch would know, right?

Still, it was surreal. First the man started hanging out in her bakery, his cool blue gaze silently taking in every graceless misstep she took. He made her nervous, left her tongue‐tied and feeling awkward. Could she help it if he was the personification of masculine perfection? Given half the chance, she was sure that tall lean body would be addicting. He could be her new chocolate. Well, if he was interested, that is. And apparently he wasn’t. Didn’t life suck? Then, to be horribly unfair, he started to haunt her dreams. Incredibly hot, erotic dreams that left her in unfulfilled agony for hours after she woke. Now, faced with the real thing right next to her, 11

Bad Moon Rising: Lunar Mates Book 2

she was surprised she wasn’t panting in need. Her panties had grown uncomfortably wet. How did he do this to her?

Maybe assuming he wasn’t interested was a bit erroneous though.

Sneaking a look at him, she noticed his jaw clenched hard and his white knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Was he angry or taken by some other emotion?

She’d stopped trying to read him by his third visit to the bakery.

This was the most response she had ever seen from him. Always he was calm, often cold, polite but distant, and he never really smiled. She’d like to see him smile, wondered if it lightened the remote look in his eyes.

She’d like to see that careful control slip.

“I should probably ask why you know where I live,” she finally said, the silence making her rash. “It’s kind of weird, you know? And I definitely shouldn’t have agreed to let you drive me home. That can’t be safe.”

If possible, his jaw seemed to get harder. She began to think he wasn’t going to answer when he glanced over. She felt him studying her profile in the dark, but he turned back to the road before she looked over.

“You’re safe with me. I trust getting in a car with a strange man isn’t something you do all the time.”

Trying to lighten the mood, she quipped, “Yeah, well, what’s strange?”

Arriving in her driveway, he turned off the car and looked at her through narrowed eyes. In her fantasies she was often the focus of those eyes, but filled with lust. This look was pure angry predator, and she unconsciously shrank back against the door. Certain she had crossed some invisible line in the sand, she reached with a slight tremor for the door handle.

“I need my keys,” she croaked out, heart in her throat.

In a slow deliberate motion he reached for them, not taking his eyes off of her. “I’ll see you in. We need to talk.”

Talking is just about the last thing I want to do with you
. Amazing.

Even a little afraid of his mood, she was horny. Maybe more than before she opened her big mouth. His anger turned her on?

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Sick, Tara. Sick and twisted.

At the door she held her hand out, but he guided her out of the way and opened it, crowding in behind her to swing it closed. Switching on the little lamp on the entry table, she turned around to face him, her mouth suddenly dry. She wasn’t thinking clearly or at all maybe, lust fogged her brain and she had let a man, one she knew instinctively was dangerous, into her home.
What the hell am I thinking?

“Well, thanks for seeing me in,” she said. “I have a very early morning tomorrow, so we should probably talk later.”

Taking a deep breath, she mentally prepared herself to kick him out, but when she opened her mouth again, he was there. Snaking one arm around her waist and using the other to cup the back of her neck, he bent over her, his mouth catching the breath she exhaled.

She gasped at the rough invasion of his tongue, the sharp nip of his teeth against her lip. He stepped away, but she twisted her hands in his shirt and stood on her toes. Growling softly, he picked her up and deepened the kiss briefly before setting her down. He leaned his forehead against hers, breath coming in ragged pants.

“I’m staying tonight,” he said gruffly. “Where am I sleeping?”

Fantasy Man staying the night? She tried to blink away the sudden vision of him wrapped, definitely naked, around her.

“Don’t think about it. Go with your instinct,” he said in a low voice, firm fingers lifting her chin, forcing her to meet his heated gaze.

Answering heat curled through her body and stepping into his embrace, she didn’t think.

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“Bedroom?” he asked. And she led him down the hall.

Once inside, he shut the door and leaned against it. “Take your clothes off,” he ordered softly.

With trepidation, she reached for the edges of her T‐shirt and pulled. Clutching it in her hand, she searched his face for signs of what he was feeling. Was that tenseness lust? Disappointment? She had never inspired great passion in the men in her life. She was too thin, narrow hipped, with small breasts and no butt. None of those attributes they seemed obsessed with.

“Keep going,” he encouraged in a raspy voice.

Dropping the shirt, she reached for the fly on her jeans and quickly stripped them off. Next came her bra and panties and she stood before him, bare and tense. She raised her chin. Fuck him, if he didn’t like what he saw. She turned to the bed and pulled the duvet down. She heard the rustle of his clothes and felt him move.

He stood behind her, his body pressed to hers, and dipped his head to her neck. Her blood began a slow simmer. With light bites, he worked his way up the length of her throat, turning her when he reached her chin.

He claimed her lips, his hungry tongue delving into her mouth, overwhelming her. With a gentle push, he had her sprawled on the bed.

He studied her long enough to make her worry. More than a minute, less than five. If she wasn’t so caught up in it, she would have found it interesting that she wanted him so much, yet was so afraid of his 14

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reaction. Would he ever speak?

He came down on top of her, nestled between her legs.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, taking her face in his hands, and then she quit thinking altogether.

He kissed his way down her neck, pausing at her collarbone, continued to trail kisses to her breasts. At first, he visited each with reverence, as if paying homage, then concentrated on her nipples. He bit, he laved, he sucked. She was in heaven.

Thank God he wasn’t done. Slowly trailing downward, he kissed his way to her belly. He tongued her navel, and fire shot to her pussy. Her hips arched up, trying to find his mouth, and he made his way lower. He sucked on her clit, and she felt the waves build and roll, and after what seemed an eternity of waiting for this one man, her orgasm rolled through her. The intensity left her weak and shaking; she had never felt anything like it.
So this is how it’s supposed to be!

He held onto his control by a very thin thread. His wolf demanded he plunge into her, claim her now and irrevocably, but a small sane part of him remembered that he wanted—
needed
—more than physical compliance.

Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful
. Her response was tentative and unaffected; when she came apart in his mouth he almost joined her. With her taste still on his tongue, he leaned up to kiss her again, fingers delving into her, preparing her for the invasion of his cock. So tight. He sucked in a hard breath, imagining her clamping around him.

His tongue imitated the rhythm his body demanded, plunging quickly in and out, and when he felt her begin to cling against his hand, he knew she was ready. Inch by slow inch he sank into her, wanting to savor the sensation. He gritted his teeth, holding completely still and riding out her second orgasm. When it was finished, he began to stroke a fast and furious rhythm for himself.

He’d never felt anything so intense. Sex was a means to an end, a tension relieving exercise. This was…he wasn’t sure. Almost too intense, he decided, not examining it too closely. It was enough to know he could have it over and over again. His orgasm didn’t build in the increments he 15

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was accustomed to. It overwhelmed him, striking all at once, leaving him spent and replete in her arms.

* * * * *

Glaring at the bleeping alarm with its bright red 2:30 staring back at her, Tara managed to hit the snooze button and fall back on the bed. Right into Trey.
Oh my
. She smiled, pleasure licking deliciously at her insides.

Not a dream after all.
Planning an unhurried study, she rolled over to find him propped on one elbow, watching her.

“Hey,” she said, heat thrumming through her.

That shouldn’t be possible. After the third time he woke her in the night, she should be uninterested. The tenderness between her thighs was certainly at odds with the lust in her blood. She couldn’t help the wince that went through her when his fingers gently fluttered over her pussy.

“You’re sore,” he said, eyes blazing.

And getting wetter by the second. A thrill went through her, knowing he couldn’t miss that little piece of news.

Instead of rolling over her, he stood and walked into her tiny bathroom. She heard him rummaging around the cabinet, and wondered for half a second what he was looking for before diving back under the covers. When he lifted the blankets to get back in bed, cool air bit at her skin and goose bumps rose along her body. She shivered when he rolled her easily onto her stomach and dribbled something on her back.

She yelped. “Hey, that’s cold!”

“Baby oil,” he grunted. “A backrub will help loosen up stiff muscles,” he whispered close to her ear.

He stretched out next to her, his body heat seeping into her skin.

The shivering subsided while his hands gently traced the contours of her back. “I’m sorry I was so…insatiable.”

“The best sex of my life, and you’re sorry?” she grumbled.

Irritated, she buried her nose in the pillow, enjoying the increasing pressure kneading sore muscles in her back. “Wouldn’t you know it?”

“Best sex of you life, huh?” he asked, fingers pushing, working out 16

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a knot. She heard a grin in his voice and her heart flipped. So much for getting him out of her system.

Relaxing, she closed her eyes with a lazy smile. “Yeah,” she answered.

She felt him shift his body over hers, pressing her into the bed. A delicious feeling of warmth and well‐being curled through her.

“So you won’t mind repeating it tonight,” he growled softly, nuzzling her neck, and sending tendrils of anticipation through her.

Opening her eyes, she slowly turned her head to look at him, her sleep‐ and lust‐fogged brain finally registering and instinctively withdrawing from this unaccustomed tableau. Bright blue eyes drilled into her with possession.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” she answered softly. One-night stands were supposed to end at one night, right? She couldn’t imagine getting used to him, getting used to the craving for him, and then him disappearing from her life.

The growl deepened, sending fear skittering along her nerves. If she didn’t know better, she’d look around for an animal. Make that a menacing animal.