Runt of the Litter (Halfbreed Chronicles Book 1) (5 page)

He doesn’t fight me when I lead him out of the alley by
his hand.  The temperature is dipping, but the heat between us is keeping
me warm - and the temperature within me is only rising.  Feeling his hard
body against mine had the exact outcome I had been dreaming about ever since I
was told about “mating”.  Yes, I want to mount him, but the ache is almost
deeper than that.  The intensity of wanting to protect him, hold him,
caress him, study him, learn every little detail about his life, is what makes
it different than anything I’ve ever felt before.  This morning we were
strangers, and tonight we’re lovers.

I can’t imagine him wanting to hold back after the way he
kissed me, and touched me, but then again, I’ve always been told that as soon
as mates find one another, they disappear for at least a week or two and mark
one another in every way possible, so the pack knows they’re taken.  But
Avery seems more cautious, and careful, and frankly, even a little unsure.
 Someone is bound to argue that maybe we aren’t mates after all, but I
feel it in the very core of my being.  My only desire is to have him
believe it, too.

It takes everything in me to just pause long enough to ask
where his ride is, and with his own hazy eyes, he looks into mine, and I know
we both feel it.  That the only reason we aren’t acting on
this,
is because of the location.  And I’m doing
everything I can to get us out of here.  His hand tightens around mine,
and if it weren’t for him biting the bottom of his lip, I would think he was
about to kiss me again
, “Riley - “

He sounds so pleading, that whatever he asks I’ll do it.
 

“ - I’ll give you a
ride home, but I think I should go back to my place.”

I don’t even know how to react to his words, words that
feel stifling and make me feel like the wind has been knocked out of my lungs.
 Is it really that different for
halfbreeds
?
 Is this why purebloods and
halfbreeds
don’t
mix?  
Not because they don’t want to, but because the
intensity and love a pureblood feels, isn’t the same for a
halfbreed
?
 Was I wrong for thinking he wanted me?  He must be sensing my worry,
and pulling his hand from mine, puts both of them on my flushed cheeks,
“No, please - don’t look so sad.”

I want to tell him I wouldn’t be sad if it wasn’t for his
cold reaction to my wanting him all to myself tonight, but almost like a child,
I lean into his touch, desperate for whatever little bit of attention he’s
willing to give me,
“Avery, I don’t
understand.  I thought you wanted me, too.”  

He doesn’t waste a moment, diving in, and crashing into my
mouth.  It’s the same intensity like in the alleyway, and I can feel him
groaning into my open mouth, which merely shoots a round of pleasure straight
down to my center.  My body is more than willing already, and I push right
back into him, pressing my body against his, feeling the sparks of energy
crashing between us.  But once my hands close around his neck, he starts
to slow down, and allows the once passionate kiss to taper off into something I
never expected my mate to do with me - be gentle.

I never knew how much I would crave that gentleness until
him, and as he kisses my lips one last time, I open my eyes, and see the sliver
of ice blue that covers his iris for just a second.  It’s his wolf looking
at mine, and whatever doubt I had about how he feels melts away.  I still
don’t know why he’s fighting this, or maybe he just doesn’t understand what’s
going on himself.  But I don’t need to question his
feelings,
they are evident in the way he looks at me,
“Are you scared?”

He doesn’t hesitate,
“Terrified.”

“I don’t really
know how this works, or could ever work.  I know I have this ache to be
near you already, and the thought of us going home together, sounds downright
heavenly.  But I’m just not sure how this would play out in the morning,
and frankly I’m not a one night man
kinda
guy.”

He doesn’t seem to realize how much this turns me on.
 Though any other werewolf should have been able to smell my desire by
now.  I wonder if I’m mistaking his age - he did say he had a college
degree - but maybe he graduated early?  Is he not even eighteen yet?
 Has he not come into his abilities?  
“Avery - are you underage?”

He looks a little miffed, like thinking he’s younger than
he looks is somehow a bad thing.  Then I remember how he reacted when I
chuckled at his name, and he is shorter than the other werewolves.  Is he
a little sensitive to how he looks?  Has he been teased?  I feel
anger at anybody who would hurt him, and I certainly won’t let him think I’m
trying to do the same
, “I just meant,
have you not come into your abilities yet?”

He sighs, and pulls back a little.  I won’t let him
go though, not until he forces me, too.  In a way, I hold him steady, not
allowing him to slink back into whatever bad thoughts are swirling to the
forefront,
“No, and I don’t think I’ll
get any.  I’m starting to doubt if I’m not just human after all.”

I can’t help it, I laugh out loud, and he looks back at
me, more confused than anything else,
“What’s
so funny?”

I let my arm come back just enough to cup his
jawline
.  I wish I could just rub it a little, and
make him purr under my grasp.  Focus Riley, come on,
“I smell your wolf.  I can even see your wolf sometimes.
 You’re not human baby.  Not by a long shot.”

I don’t think he knows what to do with that information.
 In some ways he looks relieved, in some ways, unsure, and I try to think
of anything that could help him with whatever internal battle he’s got going
on.  I’ve never been a super fan of the Council, but in this case, they
might be able to help him out,
“Avery,
what about asking for the blood test.  They do it on all the newborns, why
not have them give it to you?  That way you know for sure.”

It’s such a simple plan, I’m surprised he hadn’t thought
of it himself earlier.  Finally, I see that beautiful smile of his again,
as he leans back into me.  If I get rewarded like this, every time I come
up with an idea, I’ll have to start reading a hell of lot more.  

Maybe I’ve just been too close to the situation to really
see the almost simple solution to the questions I have: why I didn’t come into
my abilities at eighteen like my brothers, why I’m so different than them.
 Why my wolf seems to be so suppressed.  I’ve only known Riley for
two hours, and already I want to get on my knees, thank her, and worship her
(and her body).  Even now, she’s making it easy for me to feel her body
against mine.  Too easy to for me to get lost in her tender touches, and
deep kisses.  Ugh, I need to back away, and do this
one
day
at a time.  A huge part of me wants her in every way possible,
and I already feel like I would be willing to do whatever it takes to have her
- but then again, I feel incomparable, and unworthy.  And have no idea how
this could work.

I need answers as to what I am from the Council, before I
look towards trying to make a future with her.  

Even though my body begs me not to, I peel myself away and
hear her whine a little, before I lock my gaze with hers again,
“Riley, I’m sorry - I got carried away
again.”

She grins,
“Carry
me anywhere, anytime babe.”

Though I can tell she wants to lean right back into me,
she’s willing to settle for that ride home she wanted earlier.  Maybe she
doesn’t want to me feel like I don’t have any say in what happens next?
 But Riley won’t release me completely.  She keeps my fingers tangled
with hers, as I lead the way to my ride - a piece of junk bike that my brothers
put together just enough to make it functional (but not pretty).  I’d be
ashamed, but Riley doesn’t even bat an eye about it.  She climbs on the
back, holding her bouquet, and looking as gorgeous as ever.  I don’t
deserve her, I’m sure of it.  But if she really wants me, I’m not fighting
it either.

Climbing in front of her, she wraps her arm around my
waist, and my cock twitches against my slacks, desperately hoping to reach her
hand.  I’m trying not to move, in case I somehow accidentally make her
hand travel lower.  Though maybe that’s not such a bad idea . . .
“I live about three miles outside of town,
hope that’s okay.”

I only nod my head, as I roar the bike to life, and she
leans her head against my back.  I wonder if this is what it would feel
like to hold her in bed?  
To have her body close to
mine.
 I try not to think about it anymore, push the desire back a
little.  

For some reason, she wants me too, but all this romance is
giving me whiplash, and I don’t want to make myself vulnerable until I know
what her intentions are long term.  I’m not sure if my heart could take
it, if she just wanted sex.  I mean, I want that, too.  But I also
want to know what her favorite movies are, or which books she likes to read.
 Does she eat fruit for breakfast?  Does she bite her lip when she
gets nervous?  Does she enjoy (or cringe) at family reunions?  

I want to fuck her, but I also want to know what makes her
tick, what makes Riley,
Riley
.
 I want to understand what makes me want to get lost in her so easily,
that every wall I built up - always on the defense, always ready to fight for
the scraps of life - is now willing to crumble under her gaze.  It has to
be more than just sexual attraction, right?

“Right up here,
hun
.  Make a left, then another on the dirt road.”

She’s leading me to her home, and I don’t know what awaits
me there.  I plan on leaving, not even stepping off my bike, afraid that
whatever little control I still have, will be lost by her pleading to join her
in her room.  I’ll give in, and then I’ll sink into her so easily that
it’ll make both our heads spin . . . I grip the handle a little tighter,
fighting the urge to tell her what is swirling around my head.  The last
thing I need is her permission right
now,
it’d be too
easy to agree with her, without figuring out where we stand first.

I know reasonably it makes sense to talk first, then fuck,
but my cock has never been this hard in my life.  And I swear, when we
lean a little over, turning onto the dirt road, I feel her hand just ever so
gently swipe across the bulge of my pants.  It takes all my reserve not to
let us tumble off the damn bike, and pull her under me, making her feel just
what she was reaching for.  

But just when I think I can’t take it anymore, we reach
our destination, and a huge, older man stands on his front porch, quickly
approaching us,
“Riley Connolly, where
the fuck have you been?  Savannah came home two hours ago -
“
 His
intense eyes flash my way, before he looks back at her,
“And who the Hell is this?!”

Well there goes my erection.

Obviously this is her father, I can tell by the familiar
smell, and the
nose which
is straight and almost
angular, like hers.  She’s got his hair, too.  But I’m not calling
him a raven Goddess anytime soon.  Riley pulls herself away from me, and
though I feel like a whine might emit from deep down inside of me from the
absence of her touch, I repress it.  I get the sense that if her father
realizes how I’m feeling, he might actually growl at me.

I’ve never met a male werewolf before (or at least not
that I was aware of).  He’s massive, easily as big as Lou, and maybe even
another inch or two taller.  And though he might be a
middle
aged
man, his muscles easily strain the t-shirt he’s wearing.
 There’s no play for dominance here, because we both know there’s no
point.  He’d win, hands down.

He glares at me, but I don’t realize why until I feel
Riley’s hand take mine.  His mouth twitches just enough to make me think
he’s holding back his contempt at the sight, though he doesn’t stay quiet for
long,
“Who is this Riley?”

“His name is Avery
Gallagher,”
she leans into me just a little,
“And he’s my mate.”

I feel like both her father, and me, give her this mutual
double take.  If I questioned her motives before, now I know them for
certain.  I would love to puff out my chest in male pride for somehow
having a girl like her, give me such serious contention for her heart, but with
her father’s glare back to me, I try to loose the smirk before he spots it.
 He gazes at me, from top to bottom, and back up again, shakes his head,
and looks back to Riley,
“I don’t see it
- nor do I smell it, you aren’t mated.”

I’m willing to agree, but Riley won’t hear of it, she
takes a half step forward, but clings to my hand all the same,
“He’s mine, Daddy.”
He seems confused, I
am
confused, and
then he steps closer too.  With his chin in the air a little, he’s taking
a deep whiff, and I realize it’s to catch my scent - and I guess hers on me.
 I’m sure with how we were making out, there’s some of her on me, but it’s
faint, and he seems dissatisfied with whatever smell he’s picking up on me.
 He scrunches his nose, then lowers his face to mine, eyes wide,
“You’re not a werewolf.”
No
shit
,
is what I’d like to reply with,
but I fight the urge to say it out loud.  Instead, I mumble a quick,
“No, Sir.”  
And then he takes
another whiff, trying to place me, and figure me out.  I don’t know why,
but the fact that he’s doing this, makes me think he’s sizing me up for
something.  A fight?  Whether I’m worthy to be a mate to his
daughter?

He looks confused, them mutters about how I don’t
smell
quite human, that there’s a wolf
smell to me, but I’m not a werewolf . . . I’m genuinely surprised how well this
family can smell, but Riley interjects, practically rolling her eyes,
“He’s a
halfbreed
Dad, a
halfbreed
!”
 

Finally, his once wide eyes narrow on mine, and I feel
like I should be running . . . but Riley’s grip on my hand is so firm, that I’d
be dragging her behind me.  It’s then that I realize why she’s been
holding onto me.  At first I thought it was some sort of defiant,
rebellious act against her father.  But as he stomps closer to us, I
realize he isn’t laying it on me like I figured he’d would.  And the
reason he isn’t physically removing me from his driveway, is because somewhere
deep down, even though he doesn’t respect me - he respects his daughter’s
choice.  Her declaration that I’m her mate, even though he doesn’t smell
it on us, much less understand, makes it impossible for him to lay a finger on
me.  He won’t touch me, because it’s one of their most absolute rules.
 Mates aren’t to be messed with.

This whole time, by holding my hand, she made her decision
obvious, even when her father couldn’t get it.  Even when I don’t really
one hundred percent believe it either.  She’s protecting me from the
uncertainty and it genuinely warms my heart towards her, to think I’m worthy of
her in any way shape or form.  

“Daddy, come on
inside and let them say goodnight to one another,”
I see Savannah stand
near the door, and before her father turns around, she gives both me and Riley
a little nod, as if she can handle him for a little while.  The man huffs,
and after a moment’s hesitation, relents and heads inside - though he slams the
door so hard, that I think he might have shattered a panel.  I’m not
entirely shaken, not as much as I should be at least, but I’m also not keen on
kissing her goodnight ten feet away from her father, who is surely watching us
from a window.  

Still, Riley looks at me, seemingly apologetic, but I’m
quick to reassure her,
“He’s as gentle
as a puppy I’m sure, all bark, no bite, right
?.
”

“He shouldn’t have
been so rude to you,”
her eyes look downright sad, and I want to do
whatever I can to make her feel better.

“Eh, honestly, I
can handle it.  My brothers like to tease me incessantly, I’m okay with a
couple of names slung my way.”

Riley steps a little closer, but I try not to encourage
any affection between us.  Still a little too aware of eyes being on us,
though it’s getting increasingly hard to deny her, when she looks almost
pleadingly at me,
“Avery, he shouldn’t
have treated you like that, nobody should.”
 Her eyes narrow a little,
and there’s a touch of something there.  Not quite anger, or jealousy, but
- possessiveness?  I’m not used to the gaze, and I’m not sure how to
respond to it,
“Maybe I should talk to
these brothers of yours if they tease you again.”

Just what I need, a werewolf wreaking
havoc on my brothers.
 I’ll never hear the end of it,
“No, it’s okay - promise.”

Riley looks at me, seemingly questioning if I’m being
forthcoming or not, but I give nothing away.  Not because I don’t want to
bare my soul to her, but because I just don’t feel like getting it into it with
an audience.  She must sense my tension, because suddenly, without much
warning, she lunges forward and kisses me so hard, that I can’t help but wrap
my arms around her to brace myself.  Any thought I had about my brothers,
or her family possibly watching, melts away easily.  All I can suddenly
think of is keeping her body flush with mine.  

It couldn’t be that hard to lift her up, wrap her long
legs around my waist, and carry her to my bike.  We’d be on the road
before anyone catches us, and maybe if I go fast enough the wind would wipe
away the scent just enough for us to make a clean enough exit.  

Dammit
, all I ever seem to think
about with this woman is how to get her pinned under me.  This is
ridiculous, I need to pause, take a breath, something, anything.  

I break it off, and even push myself back a little.
 Hoping that a little distance will make it easier.  But when I hear
her whine for more, it takes every bit of resolve I have, not to pounce on her
after all,
“Riley, wait.”

She grumbles something, a protest I’m sure, but I’m
resolute.  Maybe she’s thinking I don’t want to be around her anymore.
 
That her father managed to scare me off after all.
 But I won’t let her linger on those thoughts for long,
“Spend tomorrow with me, please.”

Her face perks up a little, and she skips - skips! -
towards
me, wrapping her arms around my neck, which (almost
naturally) makes me rest my hands on her waist.  Riley nods her
head,
“Meet me for
breakfast at the diner on Baker street then.  About eight?”

She cocks an eyebrow, as if she’s almost trying to catch
me in a bind,
“You think I need to catch
up on my beauty sleep?”

I smirk, because she’s teasing me,
“Don’t pretend you don’t know you’re stunning.”

There’s the slightest tint to her cheeks.  She’s an
amazing woman - soon to be my woman - but her actually blushing at me, makes me
want to whisper all sorts of things into her ear, as we roll around in bed.
 Even now, I can feel us slightly swaying, as if there’s already such an
ease between us - and to think, this is only the first day,
“I’ll meet you at the diner at seven, if it
means I get an extra hour with you.”