The Werewolf Cowboy (Moonbound Book 1) (7 page)

A
llan woke
on the floor of the closet, smelling Reyna all around him. He forced his eyes to open and reached for her, worrying for a second that she wouldn’t be there, and his arm would come back with empty space again.

But she was there. Solid and naked and…awake.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Her laugh made her body shake against him and he felt the wood floor under his shoulder, cold and unforgiving. He pulled her against him and sniffed her hair, the side of her neck.

“It can’t still be morning,” he grumbled. “I clearly didn’t sleep long enough.”

“Do you always sleep after sex?” She pressed her ass into his groin. “Because that will be an easy way to win fights for the rest of our hundred years.”

Allan chewed the inside of his cheek and let that sink in. A hundred years. He forced out a laugh. “I’m not sure I’ve done it enough to know.”

Reyna turned in his arms and wrapped one leg around his waist, pressing her center into him, making him hard again. “Well, you don’t suck at it, so you have to have some experience.”

She locked her lips onto his and shifted her weight so her wetness slicked against him. Allan reached down to guide his erection and groaned when it slid home.

Reyna met his eyes and held his gaze as he fucked her. It ignited something deep inside him, and he rolled over, anchoring his hands on either side of her head and driving into her. She wrapped her legs around him, laced her arms around his back, and clung to him.

The call of his wolf propelled him. He knew she was his, and he was hers. Her moans beneath him only fuelled his determination.

A snort behind him stopped him cold and when he opened his eyes, a sliver of light cut through the dark closet. Allan froze, but Reyna dug her nails into his back, begging for more.

“Well, it looks like you two worked things out,” came the eerily calm voice of Reyna’s cousin, Aria.

Allan glanced up, through the coats, to see her wry smile.

“Ignore her,” Reyna ordered, her nails causing little slices of pain to ground him. He still couldn’t move, but the electric pulse of desire didn’t dampen. “I’m almost there.”

“Reyna…” He tried to protest, but she slid a finger along his jaw and brought his attention back to her.

“Come on, cowboy…I’m almost…” she locked her legs, shifted to one side, and flipped him onto his back, “there.” She reached up and secured her hands in the coats for leverage, her tits bouncing as she rode him.

Aria grabbed a coat from over Reyna’s head. “Sure. Don’t mind me.”

“Shut up, Aria.” She moaned and bit her lip. “Don’t make me do all the work here, baby.”

Allan took the hint and slipped his hand down to find her clit. In only a few strokes, she had her mouth open, tongue licking around one side of her lips.

Another coat came out in Aria’s hands and it happened to have been one that Reyna was holding. She wasn’t clear-headed enough to release it and she kept moaning and grinding into Allan’s finger.

His body clenched and desire coiled low in his belly. The shiver of an orgasm shook Reyna’s body and she tugged at the coat that was dragging her backward.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chanted, riding him and holding the black leather coat, which Aria was still trying to pry out of her fingers.

Allan drove his hips up in rhythm with hers, feeling the tightening and releasing as he came. His blood pulsed and one thought claimed him as she writhed on his cock.
Mine
.

And then,
Hers.

She smiled and opened her eyes, releasing the coat at the same time. Reyna rested her hands on his chest and leaned over, her hair curtaining around them both and blocking out the closet, and Aria, and all of it.

There was only Reyna.

“Don’t fall asleep again,” she said. “I have plans for you.”

Another coat hovered overhead and disappeared, and Allan realized the light was still flooding in from behind Reyna.

Reyna hissed over her shoulder, “Stop it, Aria.”

“We’re supposed to be leaving.” Her voice hovered somewhere overhead, with the coats she was removing. Who knew how much she’d seen or heard. Reyna obviously didn’t care, and Allan still couldn’t see much around the dark shroud of his mate’s unfettered hair.

“Who said?” Reyna asked.

“Your father. I didn’t ask questions.” Aria took another coat. “But I’m sure he’ll send someone looking for you, so whatever you need to do to work out your shit, you’d better get it done. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

The sound of the door closing brought more darkness into the closet. Allan could just barely make out her silhouette hovering above him, until his eyes adjusted to the dark, and he could see all of her again.

She was truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Woman
. And she was all woman. But she was also all wolf.

He ran his hands up her sides and pulled her down on top of him, taking her lips and sliding his tongue between them. She responded with the cutest purring sound of delight he’d ever heard.

His smile was automatic, and he felt around for the blanket he’d tried to use earlier that morning.

“What are you looking for?” she asked, nuzzling into his neck.

“That blanket.”

“I don’t think you ever found it.” He could hear the smile behind her words.

“Well, it would make a nice barrier against this cold floor.” He kept feeling around on the floor, but there was nothing. “I don’t know what you have planned for later.”

“I’ll give you two guesses,” she said, tracing something on his chest. “And they’ll both be right.” She kissed where her finger had been.

“I don’t think I need to guess.” He smoothed his hand down her hair. He loved the silky feel of it, like a wolf pelt, covering her. He hadn’t known just how much he would love having a wolf mate until he had one.

“My father obviously has other plans. But he can be reasoned with.”

Allan smirked and sunk his fingers into her hair. “I have a feeling you could get just about anything you wanted. From anyone.”

A touch of the somber entered her voice. “I wasn’t sure with you, though. I really thought I’d get you with the thing in your office.”

“Clearly a mistake. I have a rep to protect.”

Her hand scoured over his chest. “And then, with the barn. I figured maybe you were the kind who needed a little…guidance.”

“As a rule, I do not like to be tied up.” He pitched his voice down. “I prefer to do the tying.”

Her frostbite eyes bored into him, open and honest and curious, not taking his bait. She rested her chin on her hand.

“But the homemaker thing. That was a stretch for me.”

“The fact that you even tried.” Emotion caught in his throat. “That stuff with Laurel…” He shook his head. “It wasn’t about the pie or the cowgirl look, or any of that.”

A somber look reflected back to him in her gaze. “What was it about?”

He rested his head on the floor and emotion tickled at his nostrils. “It’s stupid.”

“Allan.” She ran her finger along his jaw. “We’re mates. I need to know.”

He took a deep breath and touched her skin. “Since the first curse, we have been bound to the moon as a reminder that we were made to protect humans. When I heard the legend, when I was a kid, I just knew, that’s what I was supposed to do.”

“Protect humans,” she said, still stroking him.

“Yes. I need to be a wolf in the human world, like we’re supposed to be. Not hiding away, not separated, but a part of them.” He closed his eyes and looked away, shame creeping up the back of his throat and threatening to choke him. “I couldn’t imagine that life with a wolf mate.”

Her finger continued its rhythm and suddenly, her mouth covered his. She spread his lips and her tongue met his and toyed with him. She snuggled against his neck and curled up into his body.

“You are a good man, Allan VonBrandt. A good sheriff, and a good wolf.” Her hand moved to his chest and continued to stroke him.

“You will make me better.” He opened his eyes to the semi-dark and stilled her hand with his. “I know you will.”

He sat up, dragging her to straddle him, and scooted backwards across the floor so his back was against the wall of the closet.

They were behind the coats and almost out of sight, and as much as Aria’s presence had surprisingly not taken away his desire for Reyna, he didn’t want to be on display. He wanted to hide somewhere for days and never let anyone else but him ever see her naked body, ever again. He drew her into his body and kissed her until neither could breathe.

He could feel her reaching for the coats for leverage again and hanging there, ready to pull herself up onto him. Just when he didn’t think he could get hard again, he felt the shiver running down the length of his dick.

When they came up for air, Reyna’s wily smile was waiting for him, and he could only guess at what she was planning behind those big, beautiful eyes of hers.

“We’re stubborn people, so if we’re going to be mates, we’ll both have to make sacrifices.” She raised both eyebrows innocently. “I’ll make my home here. You’ll be more involved with your pack.”

“Oh, I will, will I?” He matched her look with his own. “And why is that?”

She pressed his arms back against the wall and pinned him hard against it. She kissed him, nipping playfully at his bottom lip. The click of metal around his wrist brought his consciousness to high alert. Then, another click and his wrists suddenly had tension between them

“Once an enforcer…” Reyna trailed off, keeping his arms against the wall. Her breasts grazed against his chest and he could feel her nipples hardening against him.

Allan caught his breath when she slipped down his body, trailing kisses all the way. He froze, handcuffed, against the wall, and wordlessly tried to regain his composure as she took his sensitive cock into her mouth.

“I think we can work something out,” he said, gasping as she swallowed him. The haze of the dark and the wet and the feel of her, the smell of her, the surprise of her.

He never wanted another woman, and as soon as he could get his wits about him, he was going to bond her and mate her and never let her go. Just as soon as he could think again.

Allan slid down the wall when she had finished with him, and laid out on the floor with her snuggling in beside him. He couldn’t form any more words, and she had drained every ounce of energy from his body.

With the certainty that she’d be there when he opened his eyes, Allan let himself drift off to sleep, claiming the only hope he had in getting the stamina back to show her just how much love he had for her.

Thankfully, he had another hundred years of surprise and certainty ahead of him once they bonded, and he would spend every one with Reyna at his side. Mated.

A
llan pulled
the wrought-iron gate closed behind him and settled his breathing. He hadn’t seen Francis Dubois since the summit in Somewhere and he wasn’t looking forward to having to explain to his future father-in-law why he and Reyna had disappeared for an entire week.

The sex. He didn’t want to have to explain all the sex.

Reyna’s hand slid into his and squeezed him back into reality. She smiled up at the big French Quarter mansion with its rounded arches and blue shutters, two-story wrap-around decks and laced curtains. “Welcome to the St. Charles house.”

“Right.” Allan pulled his lips to one side in a wry smile. “It’s just the St. Charles house.”

Reyna shrugged. “Your brother’s house is nothing to turn up your nose at, either. You should be used to it.”

A shiver of fear caught Allan by the throat. His brother was the alpha. Of course Aaron had a big house. He was responsible for housing whoever of the pack couldn’t or didn’t live on their own.

But Allan had a modest mid-century modern one-story in the middle of his very quaint small town. It was nothing compared to what Reyna had grown up with.

“I’m not turning my nose anywhere,” he said with a huff. “It’s just. You’re cavalier with the… Yeah. And the…”

“It’s just a house.” Reyna pressed at his hand again. “My family has been in New Orleans since before the Revolutionary War.”

He nodded as she pulled him through the big double doors, foyer, and several rooms, then into a stone-laid courtyard with more windows and shutters and square footage than even Allan had expected.

“You could house the US Army here, y’know.” Allan looked up at the second floor, where door after door seemed to indicate a bunch of bedrooms. “Plus, it goes on and on probably around the whole city block.”

Reyna pulled him to a stop and turned him to face her. “It’s just a house, Allan. My entire family lives here.” She gestured around the big, open courtyard. “My father’s parents and their siblings and their children. Every Dubois wolf.”

“I know. It’s just…” He turned to take in more of the luxury around him. “When you see it in person. Y’know.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re being a dork.”

He pushed at her stomach. “Let’s go get your suitcases. I have to be back at the office tonight.”

Reyna turned and walked across the courtyard, the heels of her boots clicking on the stone. Allan admired the way her ass bounced when her hips moved and snapped himself to attention when he realized she meant for him to follow.

They stopped in front of a set of French doors covered from inside with lace curtains and Reyna held out her hand. “My father is in here.”

Allan shook his head. “I was hoping to see your bedroom.”

“Yeah, but you need to see my father.” She ran one finger down his chest and smirked. “There will be plenty of time to see my bedroom.”

He pressed air between tight lips and swallowed. “Your dad has a bond with you.”

“Of course he does.”

“He’s going to see these.” Allan touched his wrist without a thought. “He’s going to know about the sex.”

Reyna pressed her lips to his and the sweet taste of her mouth made him groan with desire. It had only been a week, and he still couldn’t get enough of her.

“He already knows about the sex.” She pushed his chest and Allan took a step back toward the door unwillingly.

“How does he—” Allan shook his head. “You told him?”

“Aria did.” A sour note crept into Reyna’s tone. “Probably about thirty seconds after she caught us in the closet.”

He reached for her, but she was already on her way up the stairs. “You still haven’t talked to her?”

Reyna paused, one foot trailing behind her on a step. “She won’t return my calls.”

Allan kept his hand out, wanting to touch her. He hated seeing her sad like this, but she was determined not to press Aria about it.
She’ll come around
, Reyna kept saying. Yet he could see how much it bothered her. He could hear the note of sadness in her voice, even still.

“You sure you want to pack by yourself?” he asked, dropping his hand.

“Go talk to my father.” Reyna picked up her pace on the stairs. “I promised him you’d stop by as soon as we got in.”

Allan touched his wrist again. The tattoos were there now, for God and everyone to see. They knew he’d mated her, and that he’d had sex with her. He didn’t like people knowing so much about his private business.

He wasn’t like these New Orleans wolves, who pranced around naked in the house and had sex out in the courtyard. While he could have given two shits about seeing some dude’s junk out in the open, he didn’t want people looking at Reyna like that. She was his to look at, and no one else’s.

They needed to get back to Somewhere, stat.

Okay, stop avoiding the inevitable
.

Allan raised his hand and knocked on the glass. He heard a big voice call from inside and he opened the doors.

“You can leave those open.” Francis gestured at Allan. “Come on in, son.”

“I’ll close them, if you don’t mind.”

The big alpha’s laugh had a resonance that surprised Allan. It was similar to the way his brother’s voice could ring inside Allan’s body at times. Like he could feel in his bones when his alpha wanted something to land. Now that he had bonded with Reyna, maybe this was also to be his connection with Francis.

“I need to speak with you, sir.” Allan pulled at the cuff of his long-sleeved flannel shirt. “About your daughter.”

“Yes.” Francis narrowed his eyes. “And you don’t have to hide those tattoos from me. Reyna told me already.”

Allan swallowed. Of course she did. It was just like her to pave the way, but not tell him. Like she enjoyed seeing him squirm.

Yeah, she did like that.

“Well, I just wanted to say, I’m not going to ask her to bond to Aaron.” He blurted out the thing he’d come to say, like it was a bunch of train cars falling off a cliff. “I don’t think it would be fair to you.”

The greying old alpha laughed again. This time, it just echoed off the hard surfaces, but Allan still felt a little fear rise up. He hadn’t realized just how patronizing his words sounded until he said them out loud.

“Not that I have control over her or something—”

Francis held up a hand, with a genial smile. “Son, and I call you son because that’s what you are, Reyna is a grown woman and you are a grown man. Your bond with her doesn’t stop her from being my daughter any more than my bond with her would stop her from being your wife.”

Allan caught his breath at that word.
Wife
. It had been on his mind. He had the ring in his glove compartment. But he hadn’t asked the question yet.

He looked at the ground with a small laugh. “You knew?”

“I’m an old man, my boy. I’ve had my bond. I know what you think when you meet your Fate.” A touch of regret laced the old alpha’s words and Allan kept silent out of reverence. Reyna hadn’t talked much about her mother, but Allan knew enough to see that they all still missed her, even twenty years later. The mate bond was a strong one.

“There isn’t a finite amount of love in the world.” Francis stepped out from behind his desk and came to stand in front of Allan. “When a wolf takes a mate, she doesn’t subtract love from her father or her alpha. She multiplies it.”

A tickle of emotion crept up Allan’s throat as Reyna’s father grabbed his shoulders. It hadn’t felt real until that moment, but this was his new life.

“I want to ask Reyna to marry me.” Jeez. This blurty thing. It was like he’d taken a truth serum or something.

“I know.”

“I feel like I need to ask your permission first.”

“And you have it.” Francis patted his shoulder. “I appreciate you asking. Not all packs have the same customs, but I do like to be able to give you my blessing.”

A strange electricity passed between them and Francis broke the contact after a long moment. Had the old man actually blessed him with some kind of magick? Allan’s hands clenched. It was like being welcomed into another family.

“I’m not sure when we’ll have the wedding,” he said. “But I think Reyna wants to get married here.”

“That would be wonderful.” Francis smiled and returned to his desk, sliding into his chair with a groan.

Allan walked to the French doors and put his hand on one of the knobs. “She’ll want to tell Aria herself.”

“Yes, she will.” Francis tapped a pen on the desk, his eyes up toward the ceiling, and released a long breath. “Those girls have been like sisters their whole lives and they have shared everything—even the loss of their mothers. It will take Aria some time to get used to the fact that she isn’t the most important person in Reyna’s life anymore.”

Allan turned the knob before it hit him what the old man was saying.
He was the most important person in Reyna’s life now
. Allan. Sheriff VonBrandt.

“She is still important to Reyna.”

Francis put the pen down and laced his fingers together. “When Aria finds her own mate, she’ll understand that. For now, I think Reyna will have to do her best to make her cousin feel like she’s important.”

Allan nodded. He wasn’t about to get in the middle of girl business. He didn’t know Aria well, but he was starting to know Reyna. She would figure it out.

“She’ll get to the bottom of it eventually. Reyna is nothing if not persistent,” Allan said, offhandedly, as he opened the door, and Francis let out a belly laugh.

“You have no idea, son.”

The smile that wrapped itself around Allan seemed to go all the way, deep, and light him up from every corner. He had a pretty good idea of just how persistent Reyna could be, and he would be glad every day of his life that she had never given up on him.

He only had a hundred years to show her just how grateful he was.

C
hapter
One

Las Vegas, Nevada

The low light in the dining room of
Amare
usually suited Marco DiSanti’s tastes—all the better to prowl in the semidark. Plus, shadows gave him panty-dropping cheekbones and made his eyes pop. Squinting through candlelight was tantamount to beer goggles, in Marco’s experience.

But tonight, something felt different. Itchy, like he’d forgotten he was wearing wool, or staticky, like he kept touching a light socket in the dry air. He couldn’t put his finger on it, and the half-dark made everyone seem sinister. Or romantic, if you were into that.

The farther he strolled into the dining room, the more electric his insides became. Someone was out there, and judging from the only other time he’d felt this way, he assumed it was another shifter.

His first instinct was to ignore the sensation, but even as wrapped up as he had been in preparing a special plate of
crudo
for one of the A-listers who frequented
Amare,
he could not block out the pull. He had done his best to tightly shave segments of fish and arrange them on the platter, but he had to turn the task over and wander out among the humans.

Partly out of curiosity, partly out of annoyance, Marco stalked between the heavy, naked oak tables and high-backed, tufted leather chairs. His employer liked him to schmooze with the ineffably wealthy clientele, but he had no patience for the old millionaires trying to impress their gold-digging dates, or the D-list celebrities maxing out credit cards in a desperate attempt to look relevant.

He felt like he was on a mission.

One of the waiters streamed past him, angling plates of elegantly arranged pasta nests onto one of the long tables. Marco made unfortunate eye contact with Troy, his floor manager, who pointed at the table as though it were Marco’s responsibility.

“Chef DiSanti,” said a pock-faced actor when Marco finally stopped. “A revelation, as usual.” The man pointed to his plate and Marco offered a bow. He put on the affected Italian accent everyone expected.

“
Grazie, grazie
,” he offered. “Thank you so much-a, Joe. You know I make-a de best only for you.”

The actor and his wife gushed over the food and Marco continued to bow and smile. Tourists. They lived for the show.

“You know, I’ve been to Italy many times, and you are the
real deal
, Marco.” The older man stood and shook his hand, but Marco already had his eyes on the next table, looking for the source of the itch.

“Yes, you must have Italy in your veins, my boy,” the blonde-wigged companion smiled up through impeccable teeth. “Because your food is unbelievable.”

Marco gave her a wiggle of the brows that sent a blush up underneath all her makeup. He was just about to kiss the woman’s hand when he spotted
her
.

The source of the itch.

Sitting in the very back, face hidden by a menu, her long, dark hair spilled over her shoulder and contrasted sharply with the white leather of the chair. So…the shifter was a woman?

He hadn’t met one of those before, unless you counted his long-estranged mother—which he didn’t. This should be interesting.

Marco pressed his lips quickly to the older woman’s hand, and begged away. Each table glanced up at him expectantly, as though he might stop and pay his attentions to them next, but he had found his mission.

One of the waiters stopped at the shifter’s table and the menu came down. Her eyes settled on him, over the top of the chair in front of her, and wrecked his insides, setting everything on fire.

He’d felt lust before—hell, he made people lust after him for a living—but this… He’d never felt this before.