Chasing The Moon (4 page)

Beautiful and brilliant and passionate. He reached out and slid his hands up and down her arms, a light stroke designed to sooth.

“Are you so angry because you actually care about what happens to me?” he asked softly.

She snorted and tried to step away, but he held her shoulders. Tugging her closer, he watched as her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip, a nervous gesture that drove him insane. When she was close enough, he leaned in and nipped at the spot her tongue had traced. As much as he savored her taste, it was the quickening in her pulse that he responded to most—the knowledge that despite her objections, her body was his. He would find a way to convince the rest of her. Later.

Chapter Three

Way to resist him, Summer
, she thought sarcastically. Things were going much too fast. The past twenty-four hours—less actually—was one long roller coaster ride. She was off balance, out of control, and she hated it. She’d gone from successfully avoiding Jackson to capture. Though it went far beyond the garden variety kidnapping when he created the mate bond. The sexual chemistry was nearly overwhelming, but she expected it. The emotional pull and intellectual curiosity threw her for a loop.

Those were byproducts of the bond, right? God, she hoped so, or she was in real trouble.

Spying the box containing Tinnie’s journals in the corner, she silently cursed her cousin. Tara had held the key—the spell that could break a mate bond—and destroyed it. With her limited casting abilities, Summer knew she wouldn’t be able to recreate it. Maybe the journals would have another way.

It wasn’t until she tried to turn to begin that search that she realized Jackson still held her. While she’d been lost in thought, his arms slid around her waist. When she looked up, he was watching her with an amused expression.

“So much for the uncontrollable passions of a mate bond.”

His joking tone rekindled her irritation, and she pushed against his waist to break free. He winced and let her go when one of her hands brushed against his recent wound. She paced the room, sensing him studying her with all of the intensity of his wolf nature. The small coin talisman he wore threw a haze across her witch senses, but a new set of senses was awakening. In all her years of studying werewolves, she hadn’t realized how strong the psychic connection was between a mated pair. It was probably enhanced by her natural abilities.

The problem was that with the talisman between them, she couldn’t pick apart what she was feeling. For instance, the constant challenges awakened a marrow-deep anger in her she hadn’t known she was capable of. That was a surprise and it scared her. Was she picking up Jackson’s anger or was it her own?

She stopped pacing and stood in front of the window, taking in the winter landscape. These mountains had always spoken to her, and she felt a rush in her blood that seemed to whisper
home
. The house sat atop a mountain. With the trees around it bare, the vast panorama of the Great Smoky Mountains spread before her. She could see for miles. Peaks and valleys, roads, and a speck of a village off in the distance, a winding river, green pines, and always the white mist that gave the range its name.

She was drawn to the view over and over; the peacefulness outside so at odds with the storm that raged within her.

It did such a good job of settling her nerves that she didn’t even flinch when Jackson came up behind her and set his hands on her shoulders. Draping her long hair over one shoulder, he started a gentle kneading on stiff muscles. She let her head fall forward and moaned softly. His fingers were magic, instinctively giving just the right amount of dig into the sore areas of her upper back and brushing gently, teasingly over the column of her neck. Her body, which had been in a low level state of arousal since they entered the office, flared into life.

He knew it, too. One hand dipped down the front of the shirt to feather over her nipple. It pebbled into a painful point at his touch and, while the dampness between her legs grew, she faced her dilemma head on.

She knew a dozen werewolves and their mates and, without fail, they shared the same beginning.

Were sees woman, were claims woman without the slightest thought or consideration for what she wants.

Usually it worked out, but she’d seen some very bad matches. Matches that were obviously Fate’s idea of a big cosmic joke. A little getting to know you time beforehand might have prevented those disasters.

Hey, you never know, right? One thing she’d discovered in her research was that a werewolf could bond with any woman, despite what their mythology told them. There was no magic formula.

What if Jackson had screwed up? What if they were a terrible match and he’d doomed them to her grandparents’ fate? Her body tensed up again at the thought.

Groaning, Jackson stopped his ministrations and rested his chin on top of her head. “How long is the silent treatment going to last? I can’t start to make this better if you won’t talk to me, Summer.” She bit back a laugh. He was worried about her refusing to talk to him? He didn’t want her for conversation in the first place. She spun around to tell him as much but the words stuck in her throat. To judge by the look on his face, he was dead serious.
Great. How do I deal with this?

She shook her head. “I’m not. I’m just used to working things through on my own, and you have to admit there’s a lot to deal with here.”

“Well get un-used to it,” he said gruffly. “You aren’t alone anymore.” She felt a curious wrenching in her heart at his words. The long buried sorrow at being left alone, orphaned as a young teenager, arose. She spared a moment for it, closing her eyes against the painful memory of her parents’ deaths and the dysfunctional adolescence in her grandmother’s house. Jackson’s hands were on her again, his warmth stealing into her soul like a thief in the night.

“What is it, baby?” he asked softly.

Forcing a small smile, she shrugged, unconsciously leaning closer to him. “Old memories. Nothing important.”

She leaned her forehead against his chest, amazed at how hot his naked torso was despite the cool room. Her hands crept up the smooth expanse of his back, and she heard a hitch in his breathing.

Suddenly the last thing in the world she wanted was to talk. Turning her head to the side, she found his nipple with her tongue, circling it lightly before flicking over the hard nub.

He groaned. “If you’re trying to distract me, it’s working.” Her laugh sounded low and husky to her ears. Sexy. Sultry. Words she’d never used to describe herself. As confused as she was about the future—their future—she was surprised he brought it out in her. But the major benefit in the situation was apparently the revival of her dormant sex life. It was a start.

“A little distraction is exactly what we need,” she whispered.

She continued exploring his body with her tongue, swirling it over both his nipples before inching downward. Dropping to her knees and edging lower, she licked old scars and new, outlined the hard ridges of his abdomen, circled his belly button.

She caught and held her breath when her fingers paused over the snap of his jeans. Was she going this far? Looking up, she watched his face and knew she was. His jaw was hard, his light blue eyes glowing down at her. Breath fast and shallow, he made no demands. Maybe that would come later, if this odd new relationship changed to one of trust. For now, his gaze seemed to say he’d take whatever she offered. It was as if he was trying to give her back some of the choice he’d stolen.

Summer popped the snap open and eased the zipper down. She slid his jeans down to the floor, and he kicked them off. Breathing out a sigh of admiration, she let her gaze wander up his legs. He was well muscled, but lean and now completely naked. In the rush earlier, he’d skipped underwear. She had a new appreciation for going commando.

Leaning forward, she inhaled his musky, male scent. Darting her tongue out before she could chicken out, she licked him from sac to head, swirling her tongue over the slit that wept there. He moaned. A long low sound that made her core tingle and her pussy cream.

She fought back a squeal of triumph. Why hadn’t she ever tried this before? The still functioning part of her brain whispered that it was the bond, but she shoved it away. She’d deal with that later. Right now she only wanted to enjoy this newfound feeling of sex appeal.

Wrapping her hand around the base, she eased her lips over the head of his penis. His hips jerked once, but he held himself still. Her estimation of him rose, and she set about exploring his contours. Sucking on the head like a lollipop, she let her hand slide up and down his length. Her grip grew harder and faster as she discovered a comfortable rhythm. He growled low in his throat, and she released the suction, afraid it was too much. Did she hurt him? Peeking up at him, she decided not. His eyes were squeezed shut, jaw clenched. Pulling his cock farther into her mouth, she bobbed her head up and down its length. He stretched her mouth, and she was afraid she would reach her own limits before he came. Abruptly the decision was out of her control. He pulled away, making a popping sound as he exited her mouth, and then jerked her to her feet.

The woman was going to kill him. The last thing he expected from Summer Lambert today was a blowjob, but there was she was on her knees, mouth wrapped around him, and about to rock his world.

As much as Jackson welcomed her enthusiasm, he had to make sure she understood this was a reciprocal relationship. Even if it did, in fact, kill him.

So he forced himself to pull away from her and got her on her feet.
Now what, genius?
He grunted. Like he didn’t know what to do with a willing woman? Picking her up, he set her on the edge of his desk and went to work on the buttons of his old shirt. Fingers shaking, it was slow work.
The hell
with this
. Taking the bottom edges in each hand, he ripped upward. The buttons popped, flying through the air, and her husky laugh teased his senses. His wolf howled for release; it wanted the woman now.

Dropping his gaze, he took in her pose. Sitting on the desk, knees spread wide with the shirt hanging open and exposing her hard nipples, hands braced flat behind her, she was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He leaned forward. With one hand splayed across her back, the other found her pussy warm and wet. Sighing with relief, he stepped forward and guided his cock to her entrance. With one sure stroke, she was wrapped around him, hot and pulsing.

He gritted his teeth and forced himself to be still. He wouldn’t last long. Reaching between them, he found her clit and circled over it with his thumb. It swelled under his gentle touch, and he increased the pressure. Gasping, she moved against him and dropped her head back. He sucked in a breath at the scene. Her spine was arched, pushing her breasts up. Looking down, he watched his dick slide in and out of her, his thumb moving across her clitoris. Leaning forward, he drew one of her nipples into his mouth and sucked, adding a not so gentle bite. And then she cried out, and her cunt tightened and loosened in steady rhythm around him, pulsing with her orgasm.

Driven by the primitive needs of his species, he rammed through her shudders, determined to take her as only he could. He could force her to the peak of orgasm over and over again, as any good mate should. He could hold her there or release her. He could test both their limits in unimaginable ways.

He was driven to do so.

Slowing his thrusts, he released her breast and trailed a line of kisses up her chest, along the line of her collarbone and back to the hollow between her shoulder and neck. He sucked the delicate skin there between his teeth, riding the edge between pain and pleasure. Her breaths began to come in pants again, as he built her body back up to the high. Increasing the bite in increments, he listening to the signs of her body. The rising heart rate, the panting breath, the liquid warmth growing slicker around his cock.

His little seductress liked pain it seemed. She whimpered when he moved on, nibbling his way up her neck to her chin, around her lips, before roughly claiming her mouth. As his tongue delved into her, demanding she give him everything, he slammed his cock back into her, and she quaked in his arms.

He drove her again and again, harder and harder, until she begged him to come, claimed she couldn’t possibly take anymore. When she clung to him weakly, he finally gave into his own need to climax and roared with the release. He soaked in the bliss of the moment—a well-satisfied mate, and himself in a place beyond replete.

When his pulse and breathing were back under control, he tightened his arms around her, holding her close. Then he felt the wetness on his chest and realized she was crying. Self doubt and recrimination threatened to overwhelm him. Had he pushed too far too fast? Would she hate him after all?

Leaning back, he took her chin in his palm and forced her to meet his gaze.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She struggled against him, but he held her still. After that, there was no way she could continue to push him away, was there? Her eyes glittered darkly, anger in their depths when he didn’t let her go. His jaw hardened in resolved and, wrapping her legs around his waist, he stood and walked through the bedroom. Opening the bathroom door, he let her slide down his body before turning to the water taps.

The tub was more than large enough for two, and he adjusted the water and jets to bathe them both. Straightening, he gestured for her to get in. She glared at him a moment before shrugging and stepping over the side. Sitting down, she leaned her back against the ledge and sighed. He got in and sat on the opposite side.

“The silent treatment again?” he asked.

She cracked open one eye and studied him. “What should I talk about?” She closed her eye, and he stretched his legs out on the outside of hers and pulled her feet into his lap, gently rubbing the arches. Some of the tension eased from her torso before he spoke again.

“Tell me about your grandparents.”

She grunted, but kept her relaxed posture. “A match
not
made in heaven.” He rolled his eyes. Who said women talked a lot? “That’s not very helpful.” A grin appeared briefly on her face. “He saw her, he claimed her. She resented the hell out of it and they made each other miserable. It was not a pretty relationship.”