Just One Taste (22 page)

S
lick with sweat
, Ben finally rolled off Lyra and lay on his back on the cool speckled linoleum. He knew he couldn’t stand up yet. Maybe he’d never stand again. Maybe he’d stay in the linen room forever, taking the occasional drink from the laundry hose, fucking Lyra until he didn’t want to anymore.

Frankly, he couldn’t envision that day. He was obsessed.

He wanted her. As a woman. As a cat. Both incarnations had obliterated any previous sexual experiences he’d ever had. He didn’t want her to leave his side.

So of course she stood up, wobbling a bit.

“That was awesome, but I’ve got to get back to work.” She bent over to grab her sweatshirt and he had to close his eyes before he reached up to touch her sweet round butt and they started all over again. She stepped into her pants, thongless. Her streaky hair was every which way and she pulled a hair band off her wrist to confine it.

The washers had stopped spinning and she was shoving towels into industrial-sized dryers. He continued to lie on the floor as if he were wasted. He supposed he was. Drunk on sex.

“I’m sorry about your underwear,” he said lamely.

She grinned down at him. “I’ll add it to your bill.”

“I paid in advance.”

“Ah, everyone does, but there are always additional charges. Long-distance phone calls. Sweatshirts. Boat rentals. In your case, Victoria’s Secret women’s underwear. Flynn will think you’re some kind of freak when he goes over the accounts.”

Ben raised himself up on one elbow.“You wouldn’t.”

“I might if you don’t get up and go away.”

“I’ll see you after lunch?”

“Yes. But we are just going to
talk
after lunch. No more of this.” She waved her hand in the air.

“Bliss? Perfection?” He stood up and put his arms around her.
Enchantment
.

“Whatever. Now, really, I have stuff to do. Go have fun. Ride a bike. Find the Boys from Boston.”

“What I find some girls instead?”

“You are free to do whatever you want,” she said lightly. She had quite the poker face.

“I don’t think you mean that. If you did, you wouldn’t be pushing me out of here.”

Lyra smiled. “You’re impossible.” She looked at her watch. “Shit.”

Ben saw the dismay on her face. He really was turning into a problem for her. “Okay, okay.” He kissed the top of her head and walked out the door.

L
yra slumped
up against the dryer. By Mafdet, how was she going to live through two weeks of this? And even worse, if he moved on to someone else, how would she live through that?

When she finally composed herself, she put old socks on each hand and she whizzed through her dusting duties. She had learned to keep clutter in the inn to a minimum. The architectural detail of the house was really enough stimulation for most eyes anyway. Her grandmother’s knick-knacks were boxed up in the attic, but most of the vases were in use, filled with Lyra’s flower arrangements. Since it was still early in the year, she’d splurged on the mainland and bought a lot of the blooms rather than cut from the gardens. Keeping the gardens intact was all part of setting the sensual mood of the night.

She decided she didn’t need to do much more with the floors than vacuum the dining room, which inevitably had crumbs underfoot. While she was in there, she’d lay the table for tonight.

The French doors were open, so she could see Flynn putting out small Saran Wrapped platters nestled in a rectangular container of ice for lunch.

“How many?” she called out the window.

“Down to four. Your guy, my girl, Tom and David, who never made it down to breakfast. I made up box lunches for everybody else.” He stepped into the room. “You’ve got to vacuum.”

“I know, I know. I’m going to.”

“A little behind on the schedule today, eh, sis?”

“I was unavoidably detained.”

“Is that what you kids are calling it these days?”

“Don’t be a wiseass.” Suddenly she collapsed into a dining chair. “I think I’m in trouble, Flynn.”

“Aren’t you on the pill?”

“Oh, why am I bothering to talk to you?”

“Because you love me.” He pulled another chair closer. “What’s up?”

“That’s it exactly. He won’t leave me alone.” She retied a sneaker lace. “I don’t
want
him to leave me alone,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Do you think he’s The One?”

“How can he be? I only met him yesterday, and he’s not at all—”

She broke off. She was
not
going to tell her little brother she’d taken Ben’s shifter virginity. She’d always thought she’d fall for some older, smoother sort of male, not someone who’d played a kid’s game up until two years ago. Someone who was teaching kids to play that same game today. It seemed unserious, somehow. She shook her head.

“Gah. I’m a snob. I’m just a glorified maid anyway.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Ben. He’s a
baseball player
.”

“Technically, not any more. But so what?”

“I don’t know. I can’t think. He makes it impossible for me to think.”

Flynn smiled. “Sounds like love to me.”

“No, no. He’s not what I want at all. He’s a
teacher
, for God’s sake. A kid with kids. It’s just lust, but oh. My. God.”

“You’re breaking the TMI rule.” Flynn stood up. “When you can make some sense, come find me in the kitchen. I’ve got to make the remoulade sauce.”

Lyra reluctantly got up and plugged in the vacuum cleaner. The whine drove Ben right off the porch and across the lawn.

L
yra took
another quick shower before lunch. This time no one came in and drove her insane with the best sex she’d ever had in her life. At this rate she’d turn into a prune from cleaning Ben’s spoor from her body.

The day had warmed up, so she put on a pair of white shorts and a hot pink T-shirt. She tied her hair up with a pink-and-white checked scarf and slipped into pink flip-flops. She looked cute.

She looked cute for Ben.

Lunch was on the quiet side with just the six of them. Lyra did overhear Tom and David discuss the possibility of swapping sisters, which struck her as just a little gross. Lyra knew she was finicky. For sure once she was done with Ben, she would not want to have anything physical to do with any of the male guests beyond shaking their hand good-bye. But if Flynn and Rachel remained a couple, she’d have to overcome her aversion and pitch in. Ben Cooper didn’t have any idea how much logistical trouble he’d caused her.

Speaking of Ben, he didn’t have much to say as they all sat on the wicker chairs on the porch and ate. Possibly he was as exhausted as she was. Maybe they’d both be better off taking a nap this afternoon. Separately, of course. But once she’d dispensed with the clean-up, she found him waiting on the porch for her.

“What would you like to do this afternoon?” she asked brightly.

“I believe you placed conditions on our time,” he said without a smile. “I don’t accept them.”

Lyra felt a flare of annoyance. She had been more than cooperative this morning, much to her organizational peril. She was not obligated to obey him in the daytime.

“I won’t be much good for tonight if you insist on ravishing me,” she tried to joke.

“You’ll manage,” he said gruffly.

“Ben, what’s wrong with you?”

He raised a dark eyebrow. “It’s just lust, right? Just fucking. I want it. I’ve paid for it.”

Lyra felt her blush rise from her chest to her cheeks. “Don’t be so insulting! I’m not a—a whore.”

“I heard you with your brother, babe. I know you’re as hot for me as I am for you. Sorry I’m not richer or more sophisticated. Just consider this afternoon as slumming.”

“You don’t understand! I didn’t mean—”

“Just shut up. I’m
not
talking. We’re just gonna do this my way.” He grabbed her and gave her a hard, possessive kiss. When she melted into his arms, he pushed her away. “See?”

“I thought you said you never hurt women,” she said, her voice shaking.

“I don’t. You’re not a woman. I’m not a man. We’ll do it in your night garden, only I guess it’s a day garden now, right?”

Oh, God. He was so angry. Lyra tried to remember the words she used with Flynn. Her thoughts had been so jumbled. She didn’t want to fall in love. But she was very much afraid everything was out of her control now.

She put her hand on his arm. The same crackle of electricity passed between them. “Stop this, Ben. This isn’t who you are.”

“How do you know who I am? You only met me yesterday,” he parroted back to her.

“You’re a good guy. I
know
that.”

“Maybe I’m tired of being good. Maybe I’m tired of bottling up everything. It’s been ten freakin’ years. I’m on vacation.” He held her hand tightly as they walked down the slope toward the barn. The white-painted gate was already open.

“Somebody must be in there,” Lyra said. She hoped so. Maybe company would bring Ben to his senses.

“Nope. I planned ahead, babe. No point in wasting time with keys. After your little heart-to-heart talk with your brother this morning, I came down here to think. I could still smell you in the grass.”

He pushed her ahead of him on the path. When they came to the center circle, his hands drew her hips to his groin. She shivered as she felt his cock press up against the back of her shorts.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he growled.

Lyra sagged in defeat. With trembling hands she pulled her shirt over her head, losing the scarf on the way. Her hair tumbled to her shoulders in a riot of curls.

He breathed in the sweet coconut smell of her shampoo and nipped the back of her neck, far more gently than he had last night. Instinctively, she knew what he wanted. He was going to take her like he had as an animal under the stars in his human form under the June-bright sky. He worked at the buttons and zipper of her shorts, taking her underpants down with them.

She stepped out of her clothes and kicked them away. Grass stains were a bitch to get out, she thought wildly, almost giggling. She fell to her hands and knees and presented herself to her mate.

She could hear the ragged intake of his breath, the rumple of clothes as he got rid of them. With absolutely no foreplay, he speared into her hot, moist center and grunted.

Holy God. She was tight. He was huge. She never wanted to move. But an urge more powerful than either of them took control, and he began his relentless thrusts.

He palmed a breast in each hand, pinching her nipples to hard little peaks. She gasped, whispering his name. When she pushed back against him, something dark shifted within. He didn’t hold back. Blackness washed over them.

She knew any second his torturing fingers would turn to claws and pierce her tender flesh. The size of his cock would stretch her beyond bearing. If she didn’t try to shift now, he’d kill her without meaning to. If she was unsuccessful at making the change, she was not meant to be his, and he’d kill her anyway.

And if she did shift, there was no turning back. She would belong to him for the time they had on earth.

She had forgotten to tell him that little fact yesterday. Or today. The ritual words were all well and good for ordinary play, but when you met your true partner, they were unnecessary. In fact, you could not stop yourself from shifting with your destined mate. The trick was to do it together.

Lyra knew Ben’s control was hanging by a thread. Yesterday she had said timing was everything. It had never been more true. As his lips grazed a shoulder, she felt the unmistakable bite of a panther coming. Closing her eyes, she whispered a prayer.

The agonized cries scattered the birds from the trees and shattered the peace of the sunny June afternoon. It was soon followed by another, harsher yowl. In a circle of green, two gleaming animals, one dark, one fair, lay still as death.

H
er blood filled his mouth
. He could drink it for days on end. It was rich, sweet, the most ambrosial flavor he’d ever encountered. He rammed a blunt nose to her shoulder to nudge her, but she slept on. Holding her down with his massive black paw, his rough tongue worked the blood out of her fur and into his mouth.

He blinked. The sun was nearly blinding, the sky electric blue. He should close his eyes, but he had to keep vigil over his mate. She was his absolutely. He knew it deep within his racing heart. He wasn’t quite sure how he had gone from Ben to who he really was, but he was glad. There would be no more nonsense from her now.

He rolled on his back in the grass, wrinkling and rubbing the folds of his skin, then stood on all fours and shook. Little blades of grass fell like a dusting of green snow, landing on her pale brown nose. Gingerly, he licked them off.

She purred in her sleep, her dark lips curled over her powerful teeth. She had given almost as good as she’d gotten, he thought. She was a fighter. Good. He liked that. But he also liked knowing that he would always win.

“Oh, Jesus.”

He looked up and saw Flynn and Rachel, peering over the fence. He growled and flicked his tail.

“Rachel, meet my future brother-in-law, Ben Cooper.”

“Are you sure?” she whispered, alarmed.

“Oh, yeah. You don’t shift outdoors in the daytime unless the cops are after you or you get mated for life. In fact, I’m a little fuzzy on how they’re going to be able to shift back in time for dinner. How’d you like to help me tonight? I’ve got a feeling these two will be of no use at all.”

The panther roared in irritation, but Flynn just laughed. “You don’t scare me, buddy. Don’t worry, I’ll bring some turkey to the honeymoon suite. Bet you’re pretty hungry right now, aren’t you?”

Ben wanted to charge the fence, but instead he raised his head and sniffed. Turning to Lyra, he saw her golden eyes open and glowing. She rolled from her side, rose her hindquarters up in the air and lifted her tail. He was not a stupid animal, and knew an invitation when he saw one.

“Really TMI,” muttered Flynn. “Let’s go make some gravy.”

E
very inch
of her was in pain. Even the ends of her hair hurt. Her tongue was swollen, her eyeballs dry. Sometime in the night she had pushed Ben off her and stumbled to the bathroom to remove her contact lenses. Even half-blind, she could see she was a wreck. She was sunburned
everywhere
.
She was as fond of nude sunbathing as the next girl, but she’d always used plenty of sunblock.

And the scratches. She needed a case of Neosporin and about a million bandages. Her super-human healing ability seemed to have deserted her.

All because of the damn daylight. Nobody with any sense shifted outside in the daylight. Only an ignorant jerky jock out to prove a point would be so criminally stupid to force her to decide that she could choose to die or be stuck with him forever at two o’clock in the afternoon.

And get boiled like a lobster to boot.

He told he read books, knew stuff from the Internet, but he didn’t know shit. She should have warned him. But would he have listened? He’d been furious, and she couldn’t even remember exactly what she’d said to piss him off.

Okay, fine, she was his life mate—she’d pretty much figured that out in the linen room yesterday morning. It had disturbed her, scared her; she didn’t think she was ready to give up her freedom. But she knew it was inevitable. He could have done it properly last night if he’d only waited until the sun went down.

She squinted her eyes, trying to focus on his face. He was asleep. Smiling. She wanted to hold a pillow down on him for about four hours, but she didn’t have the energy.

And the very worst thing? He looked like he just came back from Cabo. He was deliciously dark all over.

Lyra reached for her glasses and almost screamed when they touched the bridge of her nose. She took them off. She needed to take a cold bath. Some cooling Noxzema, although she hated the smell of it. Her mother had slathered her in it when she was little. She wondered what her mother would say when Lyra told her she had to get married. She put one foot on the floor.

“Where are you going?” His voice was gravelly.

Damn it. She didn’t want him to see her like this. And she didn’t want to talk.

“To take a bath.”

“Umm, that sounds like fun.” He reached for her and she shrieked. “Jesus, what’s wrong?” He rubbed his sleep-sandy eyes and looked at her more closely. “Holy shit, you look like you’re on fire.”

“I am! I was out in the sun naked all day yesterday, remember? I suppose you’re going to tell me you didn’t know most shifters can’t deal with sunlight very well.”

“Crap. I did know. I forgot. It’s not as if I planned it. It just happened.” He got a goofy grin on his face. “You’re my life mate.”

“Whoop-de-do,” she said irritably. “I knew that yesterday morning.”

“Well, why did you trash me to your brother then?” he asked, climbing out of bed.

His erection looked like it was a foot long, even without her glasses. “Put that thing away. I’ll die if you touch me.”

He pulled the top sheet off the bed and wrapped it around his hips. Now he looked like some damn Roman god come to life.

“Why?” he repeated quietly.

“I was nervous. You play
baseball
!”

“You make it sound like I’ve got herpes. And I’m done. I’m just a poor teacher now. Is that the problem?”

He was angry again. Lyra sighed. “No, it’s not the problem. My parents are teachers. God bless anybody who has the patience to work with kids. I know I certainly couldn’t. And I can’t work, period. Even the soles of my feet are sunburned.” She burst into tears.

Ben crawled over the bed to her.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Oh, babe,” he said sadly. “I’m so sorry.” He kissed the air above her shoulder.

He went into the bathroom and began to fill the tub with tepid water for her. She sniffed and hiccupped. Maybe she’d feel better soon. Shifters were known for their recuperative powers. Ben said he’d healed up fast after his surgeries, even if he hadn’t gotten his fastball back.

He came back and sat on the bed. “You look cute in glasses.”

“I look like Hell on fire.”

“Well, you are a bit red,” he teased.

“You’re going to have to go downstairs and tell Flynn I’m having a near death experience. Maybe I’ll be better by lunchtime.”

“Sure. Tell you what. I’ll go online and see if I can find any remedies for sunburned shifters. How’s that?”

“Google away,” she said, grim. “It’ll cost you extra for the Internet connection.”

“You mean I’m not going to get a discount shacking up with the innkeeper?”

Lyra threw a pillow at him. She didn’t miss.

B
y noontime
, Lyra was indeed feeling well enough to come downstairs and have three glasses of sweetened ice tea and a leftover bran muffin from breakfast. She was looking more toasted than burnt. She sat gingerly on a kitchen stool and watched her brother layer strips of turkey, ham, cheese and hard-boiled eggs into an enormous glass bowl already filled with two kinds of lettuce.

“What do you think, Lyra? Chef’s salad. Black olives and roasted peppers. Cherry tomatoes. Homemade dressing. Think they’ll figure out it’s all leftovers?”

“Who cares? It’s only lunch.”

“Sacrilege! Get out of my kitchen this instant.”

“I would if I could move fast. How’d the morning go?”

“Easy peasy. Rachel’s been great. When you leave, I think I’ll ask her to chuck her job and stay. She can paint here. She’s really sweet.”

Lyra put the glass down with a thunk. “Leave? I’m not leaving.”

“Mr. Baseball may have something to say about that. He’s your lord and master now.”

“Like hell!” Lyra’s face now felt almost as red as before.

“Hey, Lyra, I didn’t write the rules. You know as well as I do you’re his now.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know that.”

“Trust me. The guy may be a newbie—yeah, I know all about it. We had a little chat this morning, bro to bro. But he’s well-versed in the lore. Except for the shifting in the sun part,” Flynn chuckled. Lyra thought Flynn was very foolish to tick her off in the presence of so many sharp knives. But then, he was a
male
. They thought they were impervious.

Damn them all.

“I only have to obey him at night.”

“You looked like daylight wasn’t much of a problem yesterday, kiddo. I had to wash my eyes. Look,” he said, wiping his hands on a black-and- red striped dishtowel, “I know you value your independence, but things have changed. If you want, I can buy out your share of the inn. That might take a couple of years. You know our financial situation better than I do. I’d rather keep you as a partner, even if you’re living in a Connecticut boarding school. I’m sure we could come to some kind of equitable share of the profits. You could spend part of the summer here. He gets the whole thing off, right? I’ll put you both to work. And when you guys have kids, you can come up on the family weeks and help organize their activities.”

Lyra thought her head was going to explode. “You have it all planned out then. Did you discuss this with Ben?”

“A little bit. And by the way, Mom called when you were in the tub. She talked to Ben on the phone and thinks you guys should get married the weekend after Columbus Day. The weather’s still great here, and all the paying customers will be gone. This place will make a kick-ass wedding reception site, and of course, I’ll do the catering.”

“Of course.” Lyra picked up her empty glass and threw it against the exposed brick wall, where it very satisfactorily shattered into a thousand pieces.

This was so much better than a pillow.

“What the hell was that all about?”

“Don’t the Greeks smash plates at weddings? And the Jews step on glasses? I’m just mixing up the traditions and practicing,” Lyra said, as she marched out of the kitchen.