Pitch Perfect: Boys of Summer, Book 1 (32 page)

She smiled. “Yes, sir. I understand.”

October 30

Emmy switched off the TV and slung her leg over Tucker, straddling his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“So that’s that,” she said, seating herself on his knees.

“Seems to be.” He slid one arm around her while putting his empty beer bottle down on the coffee table, kissing her chin as he did.

“Back-to-back World Series Champions, the St. Louis Cardinals.”

He forced a smile and slid a hand up the back of her shirt. “I’d rather have heard, World Series Champions, the San Francisco Felons.”

She planted a kiss on his cheek, running her hands through his soft brown hair, which had grown longer over the course of the summer, giving her more to play with.

“American League Division Series champions isn’t bad,” she reminded him.

“It’s fourth place.”

Emmy smoothed his hair back off his forehead and placed light kisses on the tip of his nose and each corner of his mouth. “Next year, Tucker Lloyd.”

He flipped her onto her back, lying on top of her and arching his hips. The divine pressure of his hard-on rubbed against the seam of her pants, and she slipped her hand into the front of his waistband.

“How does it feel having your contract extended for three more years?” he asked her.

“Probably about as good as it feels knowing you’ll be stuck with me for the rest of your contract.” Barring any unforeseen issues, Tucker would be wearing Felons gray and orange until he retired from baseball.

“Oppressive, then?”

She slapped his arm playfully. “Not the word I was going for.”

“What would you have said?” He kissed her neck, then pulled her shirt up over her head, trailing his tongue along her collarbone.

“Perfect,” she whispered. “I’d say it was perfect.”

About the Author

Sierra Dean is a reformed historian. She was born and raised in the Canadian prairies and is allowed annual exit visas in order to continue her quest of steadily conquering the world one city at a time. Making the best of the cold Canadian winters, Sierra indulges in her less global interests: drinking too much tea and writing urban fantasy.

Ever since she was a young girl she has loved the idea of the supernatural coexisting with the mundane. As an adult, however, the idea evolved from the notion of fairies in flower beds, to imagining that the rugged-looking guy at the garage might secretly be a werewolf. She has used her overactive imagination to create her own version of the world, where vampire, werewolves, fairies, gods and monsters all walk among us, and she’ll continue to travel as much as possible until she finds it for real.

Sierra can be reached all over the place, as she’s a little addicted to social networking. Find her on:

Facebook:
www.facebook.com/sierradeanbooks

Website:
www.sierradean.com

E-mail:
[email protected]

Twitter:
@sierradean

Look for these titles by Sierra Dean

Now Available:

Secret McQueen

Something Secret This Way Comes

The Secret Guide to Dating Monsters

A Bloody Good Secret

Secret Santa

Deep Dark Secret

Keeping Secret

Grave Secret

A Low Down Dirty Shane

Coming Soon:

Secret McQueen

Secret Unleashed

Cold Hard Secret

A Secret to Die For

Some secrets are dangerous. This Secret is deadly.

Something Secret This Way Comes

© 2011 Sierra Dean

Secret McQueen, Book 1

For Secret McQueen, her life feels like the punch line for a terrible joke. Abandoned at birth by her werewolf mother, hired as a teen by the vampire council of New York City to kill rogues, Secret is a part of both worlds, but belongs to neither. At twenty-two, she has carved out as close to a normal life as a bounty hunter can.

When an enemy from her past returns with her death on his mind, she is forced to call on every ounce of her mixed heritage to save herself—and everyone else in the city she calls home. As if the fate of the world wasn’t enough to deal with, there’s Lucas Rain, King of the East Coast werewolves, who seems to believe he and Secret are fated to be together. Too bad Secret also feels a connection with Desmond, Lucas’s second-in-command…

Warning: This book contains a sarcastic, kick-ass bounty hunter; a metaphysical love triangle with two sexy werewolves; a demanding vampire council; and a spicy seasoning of sex and violence.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Something Secret This Way Comes:

“I really need to shower,” I admitted, taking a moment to recognize my clothing wasn’t the worst part of me. My cheeks and mouth were smeared with blood, and judging by how heavy my hair felt, it had begun to mat the curls together, which must have looked quite dramatic. My nails had bits of werewolf cheek embedded under them. Gross. I disappeared into my bedroom to fetch my robe, then returned to the living room, where Desmond remained motionless. “Make yourself at home. If you need to change, there are some sweats and T-shirts in the bottom drawer of my dresser that might fit you.” I pointed down the dark hallway. “Help yourself.”

Stumbling into the bathroom, I didn’t bother to close the door. I shucked off my soiled clothing and turned the water on as hot as I could, then climbed into the shower.

I stood under the scalding torrent until the water was no longer pink with blood. It felt like hours and a few layers of flesh later that I finally set foot on dry land again.

I couldn’t be bothered to dry my hair other than to towel off as much water as I could. My curls had always been fat and loose, not tight and frizzy, so I wasn’t worried about them getting too out of control.

Slipping on the lilac silk robe, I wondered why I had ever bought such a stupid thing. It clung to me everywhere water was still on my body.

After exiting the bathroom, a cool wall of air greeted me in the living room, but there was no sign of Desmond. My loveseat was vacant and the television remained off. I didn’t see him in the kitchen, either. I crossed the short distance to my bedroom and stood in the doorway.

He sat on the end of my bed, shirtless, wearing a pair of old, baggy black sweats that had been left by the only man I’d dated long enough for him to leave things behind. Several fresh cuts marred Desmond’s chest, all of which were in the process of healing into pink scars. They would be gone by morning. His head was in his hands, and when he looked up I could see the weariness and frustration in his eyes. I assumed he was worried about Lucas until he spoke.

“I don’t know what we would have done if something had happened to you tonight.”

Again with this
we
business. It was the second time he’d said it tonight.

I got defensive, thinking he was being overbearing. “But you don’t even
like
me. You can’t stand to
look
at me. You don’t think—” My temper was bubbling, but he was shaking his head.

“Lucas knew the minute he met me that when he became king of the pack it would be with me as his second. He knew it when we were only children. Because of his certainty, his family took me and my brother in, treated us like their own sons, and raised us to understand that kind of life in a way our own parents could not.”

I could think of only one response. “Dominick’s your brother?” It was difficult to reconcile the idea of short, blond Dominick being related to dark, olive-skinned Desmond. Not to mention their different demeanors.

He nodded and continued. “The reason Lucas knew I would be so important to him is that he and I share a variation of the same soul-bond you two share.”

Puzzle pieces began to fall into place, forming the answer to my most lingering question. I sat on the bed next to him, suddenly feeling rather queasy.

“So, what you’re saying is… I mean the thing Genevieve said at the club…?”

“About the double bond.”

“Yes. I take it she wasn’t referring to the bonds between me and Lucas and you and Lucas.”

He shook his head again. “No. She meant between you and Lucas, and you—”

“With you.” I’d suspected as much from what Genevieve had insinuated, but it was different to hear it right from the wolf’s mouth.

He looked at me, but I was staring at the empty armchair by the door. “I know how weird this must be for you,” he said, his voice sounding weary. “I didn’t believe it myself until the elevator earlier tonight. I could taste you so clearly it made my head spin.”

I took a deep, shaking breath. “Me too.” I was beginning to feel tired, and I knew it wasn’t just from the fight. Sunrise couldn’t be too far off and I would need to sleep soon, but I still had so many questions. “Is this normal?”

“We always knew it was possible. It’s rare for kings to be soul-bonded to their seconds, but when it does happen it creates a powerful structure for leadership. We can read each other very well. But, with that, we knew the connection could either negate the possibility of Lucas being soul-bonded to a future queen, or it would mean that I might be connected to her as well. There isn’t a science to soul-bonds. We honestly didn’t know what would happen.”

“So what is this, then?” I gestured from myself to him. “We’re some sort of weird soul threesome? I mean, to be honest, I wasn’t totally willing to accept that I was
destined
to be with Lucas, and now you’re telling me I’m destined to be with both of you? Is that how this works?” Anger tainted the words, but I couldn’t help it.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“All I know is since meeting you I can’t stop thinking about you. And my best friend, my king, believes you’re meant to be his queen. Normally you’d be with the one you felt bonded to. But you admitted you can taste us both, which means neither bond is stronger.”

“Why didn’t I taste you before tonight?”

“We wondered about that yesterday. We figured you were only connected to him, so we didn’t question it. My best guess is because he’s king, his influence over you was stronger. You’d never experienced the soul-bond before, so the first taste you got was from the most alpha wolf among us. It wasn’t until you’d been away from him longer than a few minutes you were able to connect with me.”

Sounded like a lot of guessing and not a lot of real answers.

“Did you know?”

“What?”

“Could you sense me yesterday?”

He was silent, his gaze looking at the wall next to my head. “Yes.”

This frustrated me more. They both knew about what was happening, but had chosen to leave me out of the loop, making me feel stupid and unprepared. I stood and turned my irritation on him.

“I haven’t
dated
in two years, and suddenly I’m
meant to be
with not one but two werewolves I’ve only known for a couple of days.” I threw my hands up in the air in frustration. “If I hadn’t tasted you both, if it didn’t feel like electricity went through me when either of you touch me, I’d think this whole thing was
bullshit
.” I put a lot of emphasis on the last word and directed it right at him, then dropped myself into the armchair.

“I didn’t want to believe it either.”

I sighed with a little more drama than necessary. “I fail to see how this is a negative for
you
,” I snapped, then immediately regretted it.

Desmond snatched his bloody shirt off the floor and threw it at me none too gently. “Do you know whose blood is on that shirt?” I wasn’t sure if he wanted a reply or not, so I smelled it. My heart sank.

“Mine.” His was on it as well, but I knew that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. I let the shirt drop back to the floor.

“Yeah, yours.” He stood, picking it up and tossing it back across the room. With him this close to me, his anger rising, all the hairs on my arms prickled and a peculiar tingling danced across my skin.

“Desmond…” I remembered what happened the last time I had this feeling in such close proximity to someone I was soul-bonded to.

“I thought you were going to die. When that wolf got her nails into you and you went limp…”

So it had been a she-wolf who had attacked me.

“I was playing dead.” I had to stifle a nervous laugh when I heard the words out loud. Desmond wasn’t smiling at all, his hands shaking, and in one fast motion he grabbed me by the shoulders and yanked me out of the chair with such force my head spun.

“You asked me what the negative is for me? When you went limp, I saw every chance I had for happiness die with you. I could stand ten feet away from you for the rest of my life and nothing, not sex or money or power, could match how that feels. Do you
get
that?” He gave me a shake for emphasis.