Bound by Moonlight (25 page)

“At least they accept me for what I am. Why shouldn’t I want that, Charlotte? Why shouldn’t I expect that from those I love?”

She spat, “I accept you for what you are, Savoie. I’m your mate. I wear your mark.”

He shook his head. “It means nothing. That ties me to you—not the other way around. You’re not bound by my rules or to me.”

“Not bound to you?” She glared up at him through the haze of her tears. “What about what
I
want?”

“Tell me.”

“I want you. I want you to chase after me and claim me. I want you to fight for what we have. I want you to say fuck our differences, and take me right here on the ground in your beast form until we both howl at the moon.”

When he said nothing, she added more quietly, “What do
you
want?”

A hint of a smile. “You’ve pretty much covered it,
sha
.”

Relief poured out in a soft laugh. “Come here to me, baby.”

He dropped down over her, straddling her hips, hands splayed on either side of her shoulders as she reached up for him, lacing her fingers behind his head. She lifted up to meet his mouth, gripping hard when he started to rear back at the reminder of where Alain Babineau had been. She wouldn’t let him go, kissing him fiercely, licking his lips, his chin, his cheeks, then rubbing her face against his.

“I want the only scent on me to be yours.”

With a lusty growl he pressed her into the loamy earth, mouth devouring, hands impatient as he tore through the gauzy bits of sequin and ribbon. She arched into his palms, and cried out as he feasted roughly from her unusually sensitive breasts. She had his sweatshirt and pants shucked from him like she was peeling a crawfish and dinnertime was long overdue.

As her lips and hands moved hungrily over him, an eerie heat began to rise, heightened as they touched, prickling along the surface of their skin like static electricity. Arousing, hot, feeding their urgency for the other like a battery charger. So their bond meant nothing? she thought wildly. He was so gloriously mistaken.

She clutched at his dark head as his hands slid over her tight skirt, caressing her hips, the slight mound of her sex through the supple leather. When her legs began shifting restlessly, he reached under it to coax her silky panties off. She was making incoherent sounds of encouragement by the time he pushed up the skirt and wedged her thighs wide open.

The flicker of his tongue sent her hurdling over the edge. His insistent mouth kept her at that urgent pinnacle, at the junction of pleasure and an intensity so sharp it was almost pain. Making her writhe and finally beg for him to stop so she could breathe.

He raised over her on all fours as she sprawled on the ground, panting, shivering, mad for him.

She stroked his face, his shoulders greedily, and smiled. “Now,” she purred, “let me have
you.
Show me, Max. Show me all that you are.”

His eyes began to change, the cool jade heating to
molten gold. Beneath her hands she could feel his bone structure strengthening, angling into bold, more lupine contours. Her touch adored him, because it was Max. As she felt him shifting, that strange energy played havoc with her senses. Through the lusty heat, in a hazy sort of double exposure, she saw the features she loved beneath the beast he’d become. She laughed in amazement, the sound filled with dizzying joy and a relieved abandonment as she gave herself to him.

Because of the bond they shared, everything was different and new. Desperately exciting, richly dimensional. Touch, scent, even the sound of his hurried breathing, were all erotically textured.

Overwhelmed by the colors and layered images, she closed her eyes to simply feel. Trembling at the long strokes of his tongue over her skin, quivering as he nipped at her with sharp teeth, never fearing he’d harm her. His huge hands made rough circles over breasts, hips, and thighs, his nails scratching lightly, causing dangerous thrills of sensation.

She said his name, a low, awed whisper. Or at least she thought she did. She was completely out of touch with her surroundings, floating in that timeless, dreamlike state where only Max existed. Max, her lover. Max, her mate.

She didn’t resist as he rolled her over and hiked her hips up high. The need to be one with him was an intoxicating drug, making her rock back against him, rubbing, moaning in instinctive female heat.

She’d never wanted anything as much as the feel of his hands, his breath, his mouth on her skin. She’d never yearned for anything as feverishly as that first
probe of him between her spread thighs. That relentless pressure searing, spreading, invading. She encouraged him to fill her, backing into him until he seemed to touch the door to her womb. And she began to move, building those brilliant shivers of delight that went on and on. Tears filled her eyes in sheer wonder.

Vaguely she could feel him plunging, faster, harder, making harsh, rough snatches of sounds like snarls, until finally, with one massive shudder, he let go in a tide so strong it swept her under. And as it roared in her ears, she thought she heard him howl.

The steadiness of his breathing eased her back into awareness. She opened her eyes to see stars overhead, to feel the silky rush of warm water all around her. When she gave a start, strong arms tightened about her.

“Shhh. It’s all right. You’re with me.”

She tried to sit up, but her muscles were ridiculously relaxed and wouldn’t support her. She became aware of Max’s sleek nudity beneath her, and realized they were soaking together in the big claw-footed tub.

Max nuzzled her neck. “We were all dirty and sweaty. I thought this might be nice for you to wake up to.”

She sighed and sank into him while her thoughts slowly gathered. “How’d we get here?”

“I carried you.”

Her eyes snapped open. “Is Babineau still here?”

A slight testiness crept into his tone. “He wouldn’t leave without you. I told him we had a spat, that you twisted your ankle and fainted.”

“Fainted? Hmmph.”

“It was the best I could come up with, considering you were unconscious and we were half dressed.”

“Oh. Nice story.”

A pause, then a quiet, “Are you all right?”

She made a satisfied sound and snuggled into him. “That was quite a ride.”

His lips touched her brow. “Thank you for taking it with me.”

“Anytime, my king.”

“Do you mean that, Charlotte?”

She twisted so she could look up into his eyes. Her fingertips brushed over his cheek as she whispered, “I meant every word, and more.”

He caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. She felt his smile against it and said, “I want to come home to you. Unless you think it would be too crowded.” She regretted the tense codicil the moment it escaped her.

He continued to hold her hand, but his stare grew guarded. “We can discuss it when your case is over. While we’re enjoying Sex on the Beach somewhere warm and sandy.”

“Okay.” She sighed her disappointment. Not quite the declaration she’d wanted, but maybe more than she deserved. “I need to get out before I slide down the drain.”

They dried off quickly, not looking at each other. Cee Cee found her underwear, skirt, and one shoe.

“Can I borrow a shirt?”

If he noticed the strain in her voice, he didn’t react to it. “Take anything you like.”

She wanted to take back the last three weeks.

She shrugged on a black tee shirt that hung almost to the hem of her skirt, and, with her back to him, said, “It was just once. We’d been on a really tough case, long hours and some pretty intense gunplay. It started with drinks at Newton’s with the team, then ended up at my apartment with a case of longnecks. We were drunker than skunks and just glad to be alive, which had us thinking, Why the hell not?”

“You don’t need to tell me this,
cher
, “he said quietly.

“Yes, I do. In fairness to you and what we have together.”

“Then tell me.”

A lot of sloppy kissing and clumsy groping ended up with half their clothes off and his impatient hands on her skin, seeking entry to places her mind slammed shut in panic. And plans for an uninhibited bout of sex suddenly became something altogether different. He hadn’t noticed when her movements went from grasping to objecting. She’d been on the edge of a scream when that desperate right hook stopped him. After his awkward exit, she’d lain there for the rest of the night, paralyzed with shame and dread.

They’d never spoken of it for fear that it would jeopardize their working relationship. And she never would have admitted to it until it threatened hers and Max’s.

“And that disaster was my most successful sexcapade until you.”

He drew her, slowly, against him and whispered softly, “You have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m sorry. I should have believed you. Something about this bond
between us gets me so territorial when I even think about someone else near you. I can’t seem to control it; I can’t think straight around it. It’s there under the surface all the time, making me crazy.” He sighed deeply. “I’ve never had anything, Charlotte, and now I have so much, it overwhelms me. The most amazing female for my mate, a clan and all those dependent upon Jimmy now looking to me to lead, a brother expecting me to show him the way.”

He was silent, then asked quietly, “How am I going to keep Oscar safe if they come for him again?”

“What if it’s not about Oscar, Max?”

His brows puckered. “What?”

“What if it’s about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“LaRoche thinks it’s what you inherited from your mother and father that makes you so different—that makes you their promised one.”

He laughed. “LaRoche believes in fairy tales. But the danger is real, no matter who’s the target. If I could have my way, you’d be locked behind these walls with nothing to keep you busy except attending to the two of us. Our own family.”

Puppies.

She stepped away. “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed,” she said in a tight voice. “I don’t have Tina’s domestic talents. I was raised stripping handguns, not separating eggs for soufflés. Our Home Sweet Home was so awful that it sent my mother into a bottle until she finally ran away. And though my father stayed, he found his own way to escape me. So you see, I’m a bad bet.”

“Charlotte, you’re my one sure thing. I’m not wrong about that.”

“Just something for you to think about, Max. Because there’s no guarantee I won’t let us both down.”

She bolted. Running from a pain and panic she couldn’t understand or suppress.

M
AX STOOD IN
the parlor, staring out at her dust cloud in the driveway.

A soft sound made him turn to see Tina Babineau in the doorway. She looked as miserable as he was trying not to feel.

“Alain was so very polite—like we were strangers to him. Oh, Max, what are we going to do if he doesn’t want us back?”

His answer came without conscious decision. “You’ll stay here, of course.”

C
EE
C
EE STARED
down at the packet of pills in her hand and listened to Dr. Judy explain the use and risks of birth control. Something she’d never had to consider before.

“What if there’s a chance I might be pregnant?”

“Your labs all came back clear.” Farraday’s eyes narrowed. “Have you been stupid and had unprotected sex since you were tested?”

If she only knew. Not only stupidly unprotected, but outside her own species. “Let’s say I had.”

“Taking birth control could irreparably harm the fetus or cause spontaneous abortion. If there’s a possibility, I’d suggest you wait a few weeks then get tested again. Or I could prescribe a morning-after pill, then there would be no worries.”

Killing anything she and Max might have created between them.

“I’ll wait,” she whispered.

“And try practicing a little self-control. You’re not a ragingly hormonal fifteen-year-old, you know.”

But as Cee Cee walked toward the front door instead of the back, where she usually entered, she felt like one—as confused, scared, and alone as the young girls seated in the lobby. She could hear LaRoche’s
voice telling her the only way to pass on the pure genetic Shifter code was for a male to mate in his natural form. Had Max given her DNA that would make whatever they might have created into some kind of hybrid oddity?

She could see again the poignant longing in Max’s face when he’d told her he wanted what Alain Babineau had. The pain in his eyes when she’d revealed she could never give him a child.

What if she could now give him those things? A child to bind their love into a permanent commitment? A quiver of longing tightened low in her belly. The possibility thrilled and terrified her. Because she knew that wanting and having the dream of family were worlds apart.

She was so steeped in her dismal brooding, she almost walked right through the crowded waiting area without noticing. The reflection of the pale neon glow in the barred front windows caught her attention, and she turned to stare.

Half the wall was covered by a huge saltwater aquarium.

“H
OW ARE THINGS
going tonight, Al?”

Alain Babineau smiled amiably at his pseudo-employer. “Good, Mr. Blutafino. No trouble. Good door take, nice crowd.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Walk with me.”

Babineau fell in step with him as he made his nightly pass through the club. “Mr. Blutafino, there is one thing.”

“Manny. Call me Manny.”

“Manny. Some of the girls are skittish about this ‘Tides That Bind’ crazy. They’re saying he has something to do with the club, and it’s stirring up a lot of nervousness. A couple of our headliners are even talking about quitting.”

“Who’s spreading that horseshit around? I want them canned. Now. That’s all I need—some hysterical stripper taking out a good customer who just happens to like bondage.”

“Maybe they’d feel better if they thought we were taking it seriously. You know, looking out for their best interests.”