Quest (Shifter Island Book 4) (4 page)

“I shouldn’t,” he said, and he moved to stand up.

Allison grasped his hand and pulled him back down. Her grip was so firm that he had to surrender, and this time the distance between them was smaller. “Don’t go,” she said, looking straight into his eyes. “It’s—it’s really good to see you again. I don’t want you to go.”

You’re the one who left,
he thought.

But, true to her words, she didn’t seem as though she wanted to leave now. Her scent was changing, he realized: becoming richer, more enticing.

She wanted to mate with him.

For what seemed like a very long time, they sat on the step looking at each other, holding each other by the hand. After a while, Luca began to rub her palm with his thumb, a simple gesture that she had always enjoyed. She still seemed to enjoy it, because she smiled and made a soft sound deep in her throat, and began to breathe more slowly and deeply.

“I thought I might not find you,” he confessed. “My brother said I might not find you. But I had to try.”

“I’m glad you did,” she whispered.

Before he could respond to that, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, and grabbed a handful of his shirt so she could hold on. That, too, was familiar, something she had done almost every time they kissed.

He was eager to give her what she wanted—and the wolf certainly was—but those other humans were still around. Years ago, they had kissed passionately out on this street more than a few times, but they’d been younger then. More impetuous.

He returned the kiss as eagerly as he dared, thinking he would lean away after a few seconds.

But Allison wouldn’t let go.

“Come back with me,” she said in what was almost a groan. “To my hotel room. I want to be with you. I want you in my bed, like we used to be. Just us, right now. Will you come?”

Would he?

“Yes,” he said.

Inside him, the wolf howled and danced with joy.

Allison had barely closed the hotel room door when Luca began to strip off his clothes.

Afraid that the maid would show up for some reason—to bring extra towels, turn down the bed, get rid of that awful lemony bleach smell somehow—she reached for the deadbolt knob and had barely turned it when Luca pulled her away and back into his arms.

“Let me just—” she started.

He was already carrying her toward the bed.

She couldn’t find it in her to protest. They’d all but run back to the hotel—the best part of a mile, she guessed—and she was a little winded. At the same time, she was desperate to have him pull her clothes off too and relieve that gaping emptiness inside her, that need for something she hadn’t been able to name that she’d been feeling almost all day.

Not just sex; she needed him to… well.

Fill her
soul
.

He set her down carefully, gently, in the middle of the bed, then took a step back. For a moment he just stood there gazing at her, drinking in the sight of her, and she couldn’t help but do the same.

He’d always been tall, well-muscled, perfectly built. In fact, Julie, who’d caught a glimpse of him naked early one morning, had said, “He’s got the most god-like ass I’ve ever seen.” And he was still all of that—but he looked a little taller than Allison remembered, a little more sure of himself.

He was fully erect and ready, and smiling.

She realized, suddenly, that he wanted her to admire him. To be appreciative of what he was offering her.

Men
, she thought with amusement.

She took hold of the hem of her shirt to pull it over her head, but he was beside her on the bed before she could do that.

“Let me,” he murmured.

He gathered handfuls of the shirt and, bit by bit, eased it up her body and off. Then he laid her down, slipped off her shoes, and teasingly wiggled her jeans down over her hips.

Really, it wasn’t taking all that long, but the wait was agonizing. How he could stand it, she had no idea.

When she was lying there in her bra and panties, he sat back again for another long look. She thought about grabbing him and pulling him down on top of her, but the look on his face was so full of awe and wonder that she couldn’t find it in her to interrupt him.

She’d caught him like that a couple of times, back at the apartment in the middle of the night—sitting there looking at her as if he thought she was something truly fantastic, a dream come to life. At the time, she’d thought it was a little silly.

Now…

Now, it was exactly what she needed.

She pushed herself up to sit beside him and gently caressed his shoulders, his arms, his neck.

“You said no,” he whispered.

He sounded sad. Where had that come from, she wondered? In the middle of all this, he was going to stop and mourn the fact that they’d broken up four years ago? Instead of putting to good use that cock he was so proud of?

“Luca…”

“Will you say no this time too?”

Rather than answer, she unfastened her bra and tossed it aside, then guided his hands to her breasts.

He hesitated at first. Then something seemed to shift inside him, and he growled softly. An actual growl, a sound that made her grin because it sounded both playful and incredibly serious.

He took firm hold of her, squeezing, rubbing, pinching her nipples between his fingers.

The heat that had begun to build in her core the moment she saw him outside her old house had grown exponentially, becoming more and more demanding, almost as if it had an actual voice. She couldn’t wait for him to move on from her breasts; breathing in little gasps, she leaned in and captured his mouth with her own, grabbing his hair and the back of his neck so he couldn’t get away.

He didn’t even try; instead, he plunged in to deepen the kiss, stroking her tongue and lips with the tip of his tongue as he moved his hands around to her backside. Somehow, without breaking the kiss, he got her panties off and laid her down on the bed again.

That odd sadness was completely gone.

He tipped his head back a little and inhaled deeply—took in more air than she thought his lungs could possibly hold. His eyes were half-closed, and there was simple, sweet delight in his expression.

In a room that smelled like bleach.

The thought made Allison giggle a little. One of Luca’s eyebrows twitched at the sound, and he growled again. She recognized the tone of it this time: he intended to play, to attack her like a puppy, rolling and tumbling, all loose limbs and lips and teeth that never bit too hard. With that growl rumbling in his chest, he spread her legs apart and dipped his head so he could lap at the soft folds of her sex.

Again and again, his licking both gentle and determined. Then his tongue dipped in deep for a taste, and a bolt of pleasure shot up through her core.

Oh, God, yes…

It was as if they’d never been apart. He knew exactly what to do, how much pressure to apply, what rhythm she liked best. That tongue of his was pure magic, and with each stroke he brought her closer and closer to her peak.

Then he leaned back and sat up.

“Luca, noooo,” she groaned, trying to grab him to pull him back down.

But sometimes, trying to move him was like trying to move two tons of rock. He remained solidly in place, a smile playing across his lips, using his hands to fend her off—but only for a minute. Then he moved close again and began to explore her sex with his fingers—first one, then two of them thrust up inside her while he rubbed her clit with his thumb.

“Is that better?” he asked softly.

“You’re a bad man,” she muttered. “Mean. Don’t
stop
.”

The two fingers plunged deeper.

Her breath was coming in little gulps. He’d always been so very, very good at this: sure of himself, hesitant only when he understood that she needed to wait for a moment for whatever reason. Now, he didn’t hesitate. His thrusting became more rapid, more forceful, his goal very clear.

Distantly, she could hear the sound of a TV.
Thin walls,
she thought fleetingly, but it didn’t matter that people might be able to hear her. Guided by Luca’s very capable hands, she went soaring up to the edge and over, clutching at him, gripping his fingers inside her as she climaxed.

For a minute, her vision swam.

That too was familiar; there’d been a lot of times with him when she’d lost track of where she was, when she was aware only that she was with him. She let herself relax into the sensation: the heat of his body, the pressure of his hand, the sound of his voice as he crooned close to her ear. It was almost a song, melodic and ancient, something that spoke to the deepest part of her.

When her breathing had evened out and she could focus again, she reached up to cup his cheek in her hand.

“Your turn?” she suggested.

His cheek twitched a little. “I would very much like a turn.”

He began to move onto his knees, maneuvering himself into position. Then he paused again, and a shadow crossed his face.

“This room smells like poison,” he said.

“It’s bathroom cleanser.”

He pressed his nose to her belly, and she could hear him inhaling deeply, feel the tickle of his breath on her skin. “That’s better,” he murmured, and he moved from there to her throat, the valley between her breasts, her armpits, her sex, taking a deep breath in each spot, his grin growing more and more satisfied. His tongue had made its own gentle exploration, a tiny taste of each bit of her skin.

Then, finally, he knelt between her legs. He grasped himself for a moment, long fingers wrapped around his cock.

“Don’t tease,” she whispered. “Not now. I need you.”

She lifted her knees, spreading them apart to give him more room, and in a movement so swift she almost didn’t see it, he was inside her, filling her to the brim. They both gasped with the pleasure of it, a sound that turned to long gasps and groans, loud enough that the people in the neighboring rooms certainly heard them.

Let them listen,
Allison thought.
Let them wish they had this.

He dipped his head to kiss her again, his tongue matching the rhythm of his cock as he plunged deep inside her, deeper than she thought it was possible for him to go. Her hands moved up and down his back, caressing his shoulders and the dip just above his buttocks as her tongue danced with his.

So good. So, so good.

How in the world had she ever said goodbye to this? To him?

As if he had heard that, he whispered, “We belong together.”

She couldn’t find it in her to disagree. Certainly, not now.

The sound of the TV had stopped. Her neighbors, whoever they were, had gone out to dinner, she supposed—which reminded her that she had promised to have dinner with Julie and the bridesmaids.

She had to be catastrophically late for that now. They’d be wondering about her, maybe a little worried.

There was a clock on the bedside table, but she couldn’t see it.

And it was hard to care. About dinner, about Julie, about any part of real life. The only thing that seemed important was staying here with Luca, wrapped in the warmth of his arms.

“You’re concerned about something,” he said.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I was supposed to have dinner with Julie. My old roommate? Do you remember her?”

“Yes. I do.”

“She’s getting married.”

Luca responded to that only with a small huff of an exhale. When he didn’t say anything, Allison turned her head to look at him. He seemed distracted; he was looking up at the ceiling, and the part of his face she could see seemed contorted into a frown.

“Now
you’re
concerned about something,” she said.

“No.”

Grinning, she ran a finger along his hipbone, a spot she knew was ticklish. He flinched a little, as she’d known he would; then he trapped her hand in his own.

“Not concerned,” he said. “My brother—he was married a few days ago. I’m—” He hesitated. “Envious.”

“Really?”

“I am the older brother. I expected to be first.”

Allison moved onto her side and propped her head up on her hand. “That’s almost what Julie said this afternoon. She said she’d always thought I’d be first to get married. That you and I would…”

The rumble of a badly tuned engine out in the parking lot drew her attention to the window—to the daylight, to the outside world. All she could see was the corner of the low office building at the far end of the lot: a faux brick façade and a lot of windows. Because it was so similar to half the other office buildings in the world, it reminded her of home, of her job, of the ugly, blocky downtown building that housed RhodesJanis. Ugly on the outside, but inside…

Her small office was cozy. Full of plants and wood. She’d hung pair of big, colorful abstract paintings on the wall.

And her bedroom window at home had a view of trees, a wide cluster of them.

Luca was watching her, waiting to see what she’d say. What point she wanted to make.

Once she decided what that was.

No…

Had he come here because he was jealous of his brother, and he’d decided to convince her to marry him because he hadn’t found anyone else?

Part of her was deeply, truly glad he hadn’t found someone else. But the old questions still remained: could she commit to staying with him if it meant spending the rest of her life on an island that had no electricity? That offered no opportunity to work other than farming?

She’d said no to that four years ago—and for heaven’s sake, the answer was still no. No matter how much her body was begging her not to let him go, not to make the same mistake all over again.

What she could see through the window certainly was the cold light of day.

“This room will kill you,” Luca said quietly. “It stinks of poison. You shouldn’t sleep in a place like this.”

“It’s convenient.”

Without saying anything more, he got up off the bed and stood beside it. She thought he might gather up his clothes, get dressed and leave, but he didn’t seem to have the spirit to do even that little. His eyebrows were drawn together, and for a moment she had the sense that he was arguing bitterly with someone she couldn’t see.

Four years ago, she’d cared deeply for this man. Deciding to turn him down had been the hardest thing she’d ever done, and she thought it might well still hold that title. The grief she’d felt after she’d walked away began to well up inside her again, and she wished she were impetuous enough to tell him yes, this time she’d agree to go with him. That what they had between them was more important than any job, any sort of real-world responsibility.

“Don’t be angry,” she said, and sat up cross-legged in the middle of the bed. “It’s—we should talk, all right?”