Dare to Believe (24 page)

Authors: Dana Marie Bell

Tags: #Paranormal Romance, #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Contemporary

BOOK: Dare to Believe

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She nodded, dry mouthed. “Look, this is a ridiculous way to talk. I should let you in, but I…”

“No.” The sudden harshness of his voice made her take a step back from the glass. “Don’t let me in if you have any doubts in your mind, because once you invite me in, I’m going to make love to you. It is the first thing I will do. We will not have dinner or a glass of wine first. We will not chit chat or watch a movie.

You let me in this door and I’m taking you. Understand that.”

Scared of him once again and scared of her own reactions to him, Helena took another step back and hugged herself. “Why are you like this?”

If looks could melt glass… “You were on the stoop with me. Answer yourself.”

Helena paced back and forth in front of the sliding glass door, chanting her inner mantra,
Dang, oh
dang, oh dang
.

Since the first moment she’d laid eyes on him, she’d wanted him, and that was the truth of the matter.

He didn’t hide his desire, he was clear in his intentions. That was the difference between them. He told the truth while she waffled and flirted and lied and called the cops when things got too intense. So who wasn’t playing fair?

Let him in
.

He’d probably talk to her though the door all night, but she didn’t know if she could do it. She couldn’t think. Hell, she could barely stand. Either she had to take him up on his offer or go lock herself in the closet.

She’d been thinking of him as caught on the deck, behind glass, but she was the one who was trapped.

He had all the world behind him.

I’m tired of being afraid.

Faustin leaned against the door while he waited for her answer, head down, palms flat against the glass as if he was thinking about pushing the door off its tracks. “I need you,” he said, almost too low to be heard.

Her breath caught in her throat. Frightened, she wrapped her arms around herself. That gentle pressure made her breasts ache and tingle. Her skin was oversensitive, stimulated by the soft knit of her sweater dress. She’d never been so aroused. Part of it was knowing a man wanted her that much. Another part was knowing that she’d have to risk her life to find out if her instincts were right. The instincts that told her to open the door.

Trust yourself.

He’s a public radio fan, for crap’s sake.

Do it.

Is Emma ready for a bite?

The Wallflower

A
Hunting Love
story

Halle Puma Series, Book 1

Emma Carter has been in love with Max Cannon since high school, but he barely knew she existed.

Now she runs her own unique curio shop, and she’s finally come out her shell and into her own.

When Max returns to his small home town to take up his duties as the Halle Pride’s Alpha, he finds that shy little Emma has grown up. That small spark of something he’d always felt around the teenager has blossomed into something more—his mate!

Taking her “out for a bite” ensures that the luscious Emma will be permanently his.

But Max’s ex has plans of her own. Plans that don’t include Emma being around to interfere. To keep her Alpha, Emma must prove to the Pride that she has what it takes to be Max’s mate.

Warning: This title contains explicit sex, graphic language, loads of giggles and a hot, blond Alpha
male.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
The Wallflower:

Emma realized Max had stopped moving. Looking up at him, she found him staring down at her with a quizzical look. “Well?”

Emma blushed. She’d been rubbernecking in Max’s house, trying to take in everything at once. “It’s incredible.”

He smiled with satisfaction. “If there’s anything you want to change, you’ll have to let me know.”

Gently he placed her on the quilt. “This is now as much your house as mine.”

Emma’s mouth fell open as he toed off his shoes and socks. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Max began unbuttoning his shirt, diverting her attention from his whole “
Mi casa es su casa
” attitude.

“I was in Simon’s shop when you called about the Madonna, you know.”

“Oh. Really?” she replied absently. She could barely speak as Max unveiled the finest chest it had ever been her privilege to see. It was lightly sprinkled with light brown hairs, trailing down his stomach to point directly into his pants. Dark brown nipples peeped out from the hair, tempting her into some very sinful thoughts.

“Yes, I was. And you know what?”

Emma didn’t know her own name; Max was unbuttoning his jeans. “Um, nope.”

“You live up to your voice,” Max purred as he slipped his jeans down his legs.

“Urgh,” Emma choked, “naked.” She could feel her eyes bugging out of her head. Max went commando. A sinful buffet of man-flesh was laid out before her in one single sweep of his hands. She didn’t know whether to sigh or to sob.

“Yes, I am.” Max laughed huskily. “Now it’s your turn.”

Emma bit her lip, a sudden attack of shyness nearly paralyzing her. Max didn’t know it yet, but he’d be her first, and from the look on his face she’d better tell him soon.

“Max?” Emma sat there, her hands clenched in her lap, her gaze riveted to his cock. The thing looked huge, all veined and red, and pointed straight at her. A small drop of liquid seeped from the slit. It twitched a salute to her rapt attention.

“Yes, Emma?”

Her gaze lifted to his; unknown to her, they’d turned pure, molten gold. “You remember the talk of other men?”

He growled low in his throat and crawled onto the bed.

“Eep,” she whispered, lying down as he prowled up her body.

“You were saying?” he whispered huskily as he settled his naked body between her thighs. He brushed against her cheek with his lips, a caress so soft she barely felt it. It sent a shiver down her spine.

Those same lips continued their incredible journey, trailing down the side of her neck to settle on the bite he’d given her outside the restaurant. Goose bumps raced up and down her arms as he moved his hips in a sinuous motion, brushing his naked cock against her mound.

“Um, there weren’t,” she squeaked, unconsciously arching up into his body as he scrapped his teeth along his mark.

“Weren’t what?” he muttered, one hand moving up to start sliding her camisole up her stomach. He paused long enough to caress her there, trailing fire in his wake.

“Any other men.”

His hand stopped.

His mouth stopped.

His hips stopped. She was really sad when his hips stopped.

“You’re a virgin?” His voice sounded oddly strangled.

“It’s not a crime to be one, you know. I’m not the Oldest Living Virgin, or anything. It’s not like I’m in the Guinness Book of World Records,” she babbled. “Besides, I’ve done other things…oh!” His hands had started moving again, with a swiftness that startled her. Her camisole was toast as he ripped it literally from her body, his claws barely scrapping her skin, sending shivers of need once again down her spine.

Claws?

Emma had barely registered the fact that Max had used his
claws
to ruin her favorite shirt when he started working on her jeans. “No! Bad kitty!” She slapped him on the top of his head, determined to save at least some of her wardrobe.

He lifted his head, his eyes golden and burning, a rumbling sound emanating from his throat as he pinned her hands above her head. Emma thought about struggling, but something about the way he looked had her lying passively. “You’re a virgin.”

Emma blinked, unsure how to respond. “Duh.”

Max stared down at her, his eyes narrowing as he studied her features as if seeing her for the very first time. “No man has ever touched you.”

She thought about telling him about the make-out sessions her one and only boyfriend had talked her into, the oral sex they’d indulged in a few times, but decided that discretion was the better part of valor.

Jimmy was a nice guy, and deserved to live. “Again. Duh.”

“No man will ever touch you again.”

Emma studied granite-like features above her. “Even you?” The growl deepened. She sighed, inexplicably happy to hear that sound. “Okay.” She rolled her eyes. “Duh.” She grinned. “By the way, Lion-O, that was my favorite shirt.”

He looked down. “Damn, Emma.”

“What?” She looked down, expecting to see something odd, like very dried alfredo sauce decorating one boob or something. Instead she saw the pale pink lace bra she’d put on that morning, the one that was completely see-through. It helped give her confidence to feel the sexy lingerie against her skin, so much so she’d replaced all of her old undies with the lacy stuff.

From the look, and feel, of things, Max definitely approved.

Max switched her wrists into one hand. The other trailed down her body to her jeans, undoing the snap and zipper with ease. “Lift your ass, Emma,” he commanded. She obeyed without thinking, shifting so he could ease her jeans down her legs.

He hissed out a breath at the sight of the pale pink lace panties that matched the bra. Underneath, she was hairless. “A full Brazilian,” he sighed.

“Uh-huh.”

He moved his hand and began petting her over her panties, cupping her intimately. “Mine,” he sighed.

His golden eyes bored into hers, a silent command in them. “Keep your hands where they are.”

“Why?” Emma complied as Max moved his hand slowly from her wrists, trailing down her arm to the side of her breast.

“Because I’m not ready for you to touch me yet. I want this first time to be yours.”

“I’d rather it was ours.” She gasped as his hand gently embraced her breast. His thumb strummed gently over her nipple, causing it to peak under the pink bra.

“Trust me, Curana. The pleasure will be ours.” Slowly, oh so slowly, Max lowered his head. His tongue snaked out and licked over her nipple through the lace, watching her reactions as she gasped softly.

“I’m going to get you naked now, Emma.” He lifted his head from her breast. “Leave your hands where they are. Remember, Emma.”

Max gently pulled the cups of her bra down, resting her breasts on the lowered cups until they looked like an offering laid out on pink lace. He bent and suckled one nipple into his mouth, stroking it with his tongue until she writhed against him, panting and moaning in need. He switched to the other nipple, suckling and nipping with such force it was nearly painful. Emma panted, damn near coming from the sensation.

He pulled away from her. “Uh-uh, little Emma,” he purred. “No coming unless I’m in you, remember?”

She groaned as he moved down her body. His hands went to her lacy panties, thumbs hooking under the band. With slow deliberation he pulled them from her body, slowly exposing her to his hot gaze. “You were right, Emma, to stop me before.” He looked up with a grin that made her moan. “I’d forgotten how much fun it is to play with my food.”

And with that, Max began a sensuous torture that had her writhing with need.