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Authors: R. J. Blain

Tags: #Fiction, #Urban Fantasy

Beneath a Blood Moon (18 page)

BOOK: Beneath a Blood Moon
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I was also aware of Sanders as a steady warmth, and when he kissed my neck where he had bitten me, I forgot about everything other than him.

I would’ve been happy simply nestling against Sanders all day, but my hunger woke and turned malicious, eating away at my stomach until my wolf’s demand for meat overwhelmed my desire to enjoy my mate’s company. I meant to nip him awake, but in my need for food, I bit harder than I meant to, startling a cry out of him.

My stomach gurgled its demand for sustenance. Laughing, Sanders rolled away from me. “I’ll feed you,” he promised.

“What time is it?” I mumbled, crawling to the edge of the bed in search of the bathrobe I had stolen from Wendy the night before. I spotted it in the hallway near the door.

All things considered, I was grateful it hadn’t stayed in the sitting room.

“One. We have enough time to get something to eat before your class. Do you need anything from your apartment?”

“Yeah, my clothes,” I grumbled. “I’m going to have to go home naked.”

“Like hell you’re going home naked,” he growled, prowling across the room to fetch my bathrobe. Instead of tossing it to me as I expected, he brought it to me and, with a smile, helped me into it.

It took a few brushes of his hand for me to catch onto his ulterior motives, which I answered with a kiss.

“Food, class, dinner after class, perhaps a nice date, and then we’ll enjoy each other some more,” he murmured, pressing his mouth to the side of my throat. “You’re lovely.”

“I’m not good at dating,” I confessed.

“Practice makes perfect,” he countered. “We can skip the date and go straight to enjoying each other’s company, if you’d prefer.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Whatever you want. Maybe we’ll steal Desmond’s credit card in retaliation for last night. You can distract him by being so pretty. I’ll grab his wallet. We’ll make a run for it and go spend all of his money having fun. We could hit the casinos, watch a few shows, or just run away together. I’m game.” Laughing, he hopped to his feet, grabbed hold of my hands, and pulled me upright. “Take a bath if you’d like. I’ll put on real clothes and find you something to wear from the shops downstairs. Then I’ll take you somewhere nice for lunch before the Desmonds return and bother us.”

I was sore and achy, which made the decision easy to make. “It’d be a nicer bath if you were with me,” I replied, grinning at him.

“There will be plenty of time for us to share baths,” he promised. His smile was radiant. “I won’t be long.”

It surprised me how much it bothered me when he left the suite despite knowing he would return. The sense of dismay I had felt earlier in the morning intensified, and there was a new undertone that bothered my wolf. Puzzled, I shook my head and decided to ignore the feelings.

It was probably my imagination.

While I waited for the tub to fill, I investigated the television mounted on the bathroom wall. I turned on the news, setting the remote out of harm’s way. Restlessness drove me out of the tub within ten minutes. Disgusted at myself, I toweled dry and paced the suite wrapped up in the bathrobe.

A phone rang, and curious, I hunted down the sound to the office adjacent to the sitting room. After hesitating, I answered, “Hello?”

There was an intake of breath on the other end of the line. “Ah, hello. I’m looking for Matthew. Is he there? I didn’t dial the wrong number, did I?” The speaker was a male, and my wolf was intrigued by how flustered he sounded.

I decided to treat the caller like I would if I were answering the phone at the club. “Mr. Sanders is currently unavailable. May I take a message?”

I grabbed the pad of paper and a pen, uncapping it in preparation to write. There was a long pause.

“Do you know where he is? He’s not answering his cell phone. It’s important.”

“Mr. Desmond has his cell,” I replied. “He should be back in a little while if you want to call back. May I ask who is speaking?”

“Why does Desmond have his phone?”

“That is something you will have to take up with Mr. Desmond, sir,” I replied, shifting my weight from foot to foot, wondering how I could put an end to the call without sounding rude. “Would you like to leave a message?”

“Who are you and what are you doing in Matthew’s room?” the caller demanded.

I swallowed back my whine, drawing a deep breath to steady myself. “I’m Sara. Mr. Desmond invited me.”

I didn’t have any idea how I was suppose to address Sanders. Was I supposed to call him my mate? Normal people didn’t do that. How was I supposed to address him? The sound of someone at the front door relieved me so much I dropped the phone and darted out of the office. Sanders frowned. He was carrying two bags, which he set aside. Deep lines stretched across his brow.

“There’s some guy on the phone,” I babbled, pointing in the direction of the accursed device.

Sanders paused long enough to kiss my cheek. “I’ll take care of it, baby. Everything okay?”

I relaxed, forcing a smile for him. “He seems a bit irritable. I don’t think he thinks I’m supposed to be here.”

He wrapped his arm around my waist and tugged me into the office with him. Grabbing the phone, he held it to his ear and answered, “Sanders.”

My mate grinned. “Hey, Joseph. What’s up?”

When Sanders laughed, my unease melted away, and I leaned against him. “I hate phones,” I confessed in a mutter.

“You’re so shy,” my mate replied, smiling at me. “Oh, sorry, Joe. I was talking to Sara. Yes, she’s supposed to be here. I’ll be bringing her home with me when I come back to Seattle. She’s the prettiest thing on two and four feet, and I can’t wait to introduce you two properly. I’ll fill you in later. I have to get her dressed so we can go get lunch. She has class in a few hours, and I don’t want to make her late.”

After hanging up, Sanders turned to me, slipping his hands into my bathrobe. “He’s our pack’s Second. He felt me bring you into the pack and wanted to know what’s going on. Once you’re safely to class, I’ll tell him all about you.”

“I thought you were supposed to be dressing me, not undressing me,” I replied, giving his t-shirt a playful tug. “I like shirts with buttons better. Gives me something to play with.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sanders made a show of checking his wrist for the time, and I giggled because he wasn’t wearing a watch. “Look at that, darling. We have some time before we have to go. Let’s make the most of it, shall we?”

I laughed and decided if I was late to class, I simply wouldn’t care. He was worth it.

Chapter Nine

I made it to class with ten minutes to spare and an empty stomach. My wolf regretted nothing, although I was aware of everyone staring at me as I walked to the back row. They were used to seeing me in heels and shorts with t-shirts or tank tops rather than a long, silky white dress.

I had no idea what Sanders had been thinking when he picked it, but he liked it a lot—so much so we missed breakfast and lunch. That part I hadn’t minded at all, though I was still amazed the dress had survived his attentions by the time we were finished.

In so many ways, it felt like a wedding dress, and it astonished me I didn’t mind in the slightest. When had my emotions become so strong? My wolf adored everything about Sanders, and her satisfaction drowned the worries a smart and sensible woman would have fixated on.

Normally, I kept to myself, but both of my neighbors scooted their chairs and desks closer to me.

“Someone has a date tonight,” the girl on my right whispered. “And here I thought you were hopeless.”

Torn between fury and embarrassment, I glared at her. “Maybe that would be the case if I came to class to find a date. If I wanted to waste that much money on a man, I’d hit the strip. At least that way I have a chance at the jackpot.”

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wished I could take them back. I heard more than a little of my wolf in my words, something I never would have said so boldly before she had come around. The girl’s brows rose, her smile faltered, and then she stared at me as though seeing me for the first time. I swallowed and prepared to apologize, but then she laughed.

“Good for you, sister. Find someone worth dressing up for, did you?”

There was nothing natural about how much of an effect Sanders had on me, but it was a small price to pay. My wolf wanted to return to his side and stake her claim on him
again
, which amused me.

Once class was over, I’d reassure my wolf I had the exact same thing in mind.

“I sure did,” I replied.

If my wolf had her way, I had a feeling I’d never wear any clothes when near our mate, and she’d endeavor to ensure Sanders shared the same state of nudity with me. Determined to stop blushing, I ground my teeth together, opened my notebook, and clicked my pen.

When the professor started talking and I couldn’t click my pen without earning a glare from him and half the class, I forced myself to take notes properly. My wolf didn’t make it easy on me. She hungered for the hunt, and her restlessness compounded my own.

After what felt like an eternity but was only a little over an hour, the class ended. I gathered my notes, shoved them into my bag, and headed for the door. When I had first come up with the plan, meeting Sanders at my apartment after giving him the spare key had seemed like a good idea.

I didn’t look forward to the long commute back to my apartment, and deciding I could afford to splurge on a cab, I headed across campus. The girl from my class ran to catch up with me.

“That’s a really pretty dress. Where did you get it?”

“It was a gift,” I replied, deciding there was no way I could hide the fact I had no idea where it came from or how much it had cost.

“Hot damn, someone likes you a lot, girl.”

Unable to help myself, I smiled. “I guess it’s a good thing I like him a lot, too.”

“Lucky. I just wanted to apologize to you. I was really rude earlier.”

“I’m sorry I lost my temper, too,” I replied. “No harm done.”

“I was just really surprised. You’re always so quiet, and you always dress so casually, so to see you wearing something like that…”

“Don’t worry, I don’t wear things like this, not normally. It’s a special occasion,” I lied, except it wasn’t really a lie. I had a feeling I’d never meet someone like Sanders ever again, and the more I thought about him, the more I wanted to learn about the man my wolf had claimed as ours. I grinned. “I need to catch a cab or I’m going to be late.”

The girl waved at me. “Take care. Enjoy your date.”

The cab ride across town cost me a small fortune, but considering it saved me more than an hour of bus hopping, it was well worth the investment. When I reached my apartment, I was early, and Desmond’s Mercedes wasn’t parked on the street.

Whistling a merry tune, I headed up the walkway.

A man dressed in a suit was knocking at my door. When he caught sight of me, he smiled. In one hand, he held a package and a clipboard. “Are you Miss Madison?” he asked, glancing down at the package.

“Yes,” I replied, dropping my bag at my feet. “I wasn’t expecting a delivery.”

The man smiled, tucked the box under his arm, and held out the clipboard. “Sign here,” he said, pointing at a line marked with a scribble. He held out a pen for me.

My fingers brushed his, and fire burned up my arm, so painful I jerked away from him. My breath caught in my throat, choking off my scream. When the scorching heat reached my head, I fell into darkness.

BOOK: Beneath a Blood Moon
2.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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