Page 21

Stacy

I open my eyes. Ugh . It feels like my head weighs ten times more than it should.

“Ow,” I mutter and roll off the bed to go to the bathroom so I can put my mouth under the tap. I turn it on and drink. And drink and drink and drink. Yes. Yum.

I feel something warm press against my hip. Greyson’s hand. He taps two pills out of a headache pill bottle onto the counter beside me. I scoop them up and eat them, guzzling more delicious water.

After turning the tap off, still holding my head, I stagger back to the bed and collapse on it.

I feel the warm, fluffy cloud of a bed that smells like the pine and caramel scent of Greyson depress as he sits beside me.

“What time is it?” I ask.

“Eight.”

“But it’s so dark.”

“PM, Blossom. You passed out well before dinner time.”

“It’s still the same day?”

His low laughter is my answer.

“I think there’s an army of little men with hammers inside my brain, Grey.”

He caresses my face, and it feels nice. His scent surrounding me feels even nicer.

“Might wanna shift, too, make those pills work faster.”

“I don’t think I have the energy,” I grumble.

“Grab another nap and let those pain pills work. I’ll make us some food when you’re ready.” He kisses me and pulls the blanket over me, so I sink into the warmth.

“Grey?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you stay with me a minute?”

“Got no plans to go anywhere anytime soon, sweetheart.”

I feel his warmth wrap me up tighter and warmer, so I sink into it feeling like the headache is already abating. I smile, feeling snug, warm, and gooey because I managed to ask him for something. I worked up that nerve and he gave me what I requested. He’s pretty amazing. And I can’t believe how my luck has changed.

Fate.

I push away the fears that plague me and try to just enjoy how it feels, knowing to my marrow that even if it’s ripped away, at least I’ll have the memory of how this feels. I know I’ll revisit it over and over, forever.

***

I wake to Grey’s eyes on me in the dark. He’s on his side, his head propped on his palm. His elbow is balanced on the pillow beside me.

“Headache gone?” he asks, tracing my hairline from my forehead to my earlobe with his fingertip.

He’s so damn handsome.

I nod. “D-did you stay the whole time?”

“Almost. Come here,” he orders gruffly, rolling to his back.

I blink twice and raise myself up onto one elbow. “Come there?” I inquire, seeing that he’s nude. Nude and erect.

Oh, my stars .

He crooks his finger, so I roll over onto my knees and scoot closer.

What a muscular, perfect body. He’s tall, his chest is extraordinary, as is every inch of him.

His eyes are liquid mercury as he reaches for me and plants me on top of himself, my knees on either side of his hips. He repositions my hips and now I can feel his erection press between my legs, though my clothes are in the way.

“Kiss your husband, Stacy,” he orders.

Goosebumps flare on every inch of my body as I lean forward and press my lips to his. His tongue dips between my lips as his fingers tangle into the length of my hair and sudden wetness surges between my thighs as a reaction to his touch. His scent. His voice.

The power this man has over my body is still so surprising.

“Take your clothes off and show me what’s all mine,” he requests gruffly. “Only mine from here on out.”

His . Yes, I like that I’m all his. Only his. It washes through me as I grab the hem of my top and pull it up and over my head while he helps by shimmying the high-waisted yoga pants down below my hips.

I stumble, trying to balance on one knee to make room for the pants to come off, but it’s not going to work so I have to roll off him. I land on my feet and peel them the rest of the way down. Stumbling and nearly tripping to get them all the way off.

“Look how sexy I am,” I quip, embarrassment heating my cheeks.

“Get back here,” he demands, not seeming amused.

And as I get back on top of him, he grasps my underwear at both hips and shreds them before tossing them.

This makes me gasp. While I’m reacting in what feels like slow motion, he’s pulling my head down and plunging his tongue into my mouth, his free hand tightening on my butt while he commands, “Guide my cock inside.”

This is… exciting. This bossiness. The carnal look in his eyes.

“Now,” he tacks on.

The gruffness of his voice as he bosses me is sexy. Sexy, not scary. His aggression right now… it’s… erotic.

My face must betray my surprise because he says, “You wanted direction. You’re getting it. Maybe not every time, because sometimes I’ll be more than fine with you laying back and taking what I give you, but I’ll give you direction other times. Okay?”

I nod with enthusiasm and his intense gaze burns through my skin, his meaning penetrating at the same time as the memories of what I said a few hours ago wash over me. I feel my face heat up with embarrassment at my drunken admission. But Greyson’s expression is hotter, so I get down to the task I’ve been assigned and do what he’s told me to do.

I reach down and take his thick erection into my grip before guiding the tip to my slippery opening.

“Good girl,” he praises, and this makes me melt as I fill myself with the first few thick inches of him.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. Eagerly. Sitting on him, staring right into this alpha’s eyes while I ease down onto him.

Yes, I want his praise. I like it. A lot.

Apparently I’m taking too long because he takes over, driving his hips forward so he’s fully seated.

I hiss at the fullness, then luxuriate in it as the pinch transitions to something way better.

“Move a little, wife. Rock nice and slow for me.”

I rock my hips forward a few times, but it doesn’t take long before I can’t do much because his knot pops out, taking me from full to deliciously over-full. I whimper at the sensation of pleasure woven with discomfort and do my best to adjust so I can continue to follow his directions while his knot pulses inside me.

“Grab onto my shoulders for balance,” he orders.

I do, and just in time because the vibrations of his knot are rocking my body for me. I rock against the pulsing and it’s incredible. I’m quickly overtaken by sensation that’s a hundred per cent pleasure.

“Can’t go slow,” I whimper, and he doesn’t look like he minds, because he rasps, “So beautiful; you feel so fucking good,” and now a growling sound of pleasure rumbles forth from his chest, past his lips.

I take the sensual, vibration music as a command and twist to expose my neck, my entire body erupting in gooseflesh.

He knifes up and bites my mate mark, letting out another growl. This one is longer, coming from somewhere even deeper inside him, and having an even more massive effect on me – the detonation of all the best pleasure nerve endings in my body, all at once.

It feels like I hit new heights of sensation and I scream out immense ecstasy as he wraps his arms tight around me and pistons his hips over and over from beneath me.

As I flutter back down to Earth, he’s still not done vibrating inside me, filling me with his essence.

I flip my hair back to get it off my face and chest and he growls again, demanding, “Slow it down, wife. And eyes on your mate.”

Complying, I revel at the sight of the glowing silver, at the perfect view of him with his teeth embedded in his bottom lip, his muscles rippling as his hot hands skate up to cup my breasts, his thumbs caressing my pointed nipples.

I continue to sway and though my energy is depleting, my thigh and calf muscles burning, I rally because of how much he seems to be enjoying what I’m doing, and I want to please him. I want nothing more than to please him every day for the rest of my time breathing.

“When you’re ready, I want you to sink your teeth into my neck. You told me you wanted that; so do it. Mark me, Stacy. Let’s have that to look forward to, though, so not yet.”

I gulp down a swallow, nodding, but wondering if I can possibly summon the nerve without a direct command. If I had the nerve to talk about sex while imbibing, maybe I’d have the nerve to put my money where my mouth is with a few more of those drinks Bailey made for me.

“Making love to you is never boring, sweetheart. It gets boring for you, be sure to let me know, yeah? I’ll work extra hard to improve.”

Humor lights his gaze so I laugh a little. “It’s not remotely boring for me, Greyson. I just didn’t want to bore you .”

Making love. I like that. I like that a lot more than being told he likes mounting me. The shifters in my old pack could learn a thing or two hundred from Greyson Blackwood in terms of wooing a female.

“Glad to hear it. And you don’t. Believe that. Kiss your mate, woman,” he orders, sifting his fingers into my hair.

My mate.

Yes, he’s mine.

I lower to do so, but my body gives out on me at the same time as emotions well up so big inside me that a flood of emotion bursts from me. Tears, sobs, the whole shebang. But Greyson starts purring immediately as he turns me to my side and wraps both arms around me. I burrow into his chest, pressing my lips there.

He doesn’t ask me why I’m crying. I think it’s because he feels it – feels this immense connection between us. It’s a bond with depth and strength that I could never have fathomed. And I feel from him that he’s in this moment with me, feeling the same thing.

Oh my stars… I might already love this man. I never imagined romantic love to become a part of my fabric, my very core, but as I lie here connected to him physically as well as emotionally, fear slams in and grips me in a stranglehold. Because my brother could and will absolutely try to ruin this for me.

“No,” Greyson says firmly, “What you know of me so far, do you not see that I’ll protect you with everything I have, everything I… fucking … am?”

I squeeze him tighter, both loving and being embarrassed by how he can read me so well. I want to believe. I really, really do.

“You’ll see,” he vows, tipping my chin up and pressing his mouth to mine while his other hand sifts into my hair.

After a few minutes of it, I dare to ask, “Did you speak to Wyatt on the phone?”

“Left him a voicemail message.”

I swallow before a slow exhale.

“Forget Wyatt for now.”

I wish I could.

“Hungry?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He playfully slaps my bottom and moves us to an upright position.

“Let’s go tackle that snack plate you started on.”

***

While we’re at the kitchen island, snacking on the stuff I’d put out with the addition of leftover roasted chicken and some leftover pasta, he asks, “So, Bailey your new partner in crime?”

I smile. “She wanted to loosen me up and make me more comfortable. I like her a lot. She’s really nice. Sent over a bunch of clothes, too, which is good since I don’t have much, and you ripped one of my few pairs of undies.” I flash a smile.

“Got your suitcase from the motel,” he says without humor. “Sent it to one of our trackers to memorize the scents of your brother and the betas who were here.”

I blink in surprise. And I feel a little embarrassed. And a little concerned. I had left some money hidden where I hoped Jimmy wouldn’t find it. I also had some inexpensive gifts tucked away for some of them at home. Nail polish and lipsticks for the girls. A Halloween book by a local author and some butterfly hair clips for little Halla who loves spooky stories. Comic books for my sixteen-year-old cousin, Lucas.

Lucas will mourn Jimmy, his older brother. This makes me sad. Not because Jimmy is a great loss to the pack. Jimmy was driven by nothing but greed and baser urges. Rare to see an ounce of kindness or empathy in him. But I’m sad because of how Lukey will feel. One of Jimmy’s few redeeming qualities was that he was protective over his little brother. But he wasn’t the best example and I constantly worried about that, trying delicately to remind Lucas that he doesn’t have to follow in his brother’s footsteps.

There’s also the rest of the herb mixture I hid, too, under the liner of the suitcase. I bite my lip, my thoughts again flitting to Malachi. I wonder, not for the first time, what transpired between him and my brother after I left to come here. Wyatt obviously started pulling him into the inner circle by the fact he sent him here with Jimmy.

“Eat up, fuel up. We’ll go for a run if you want,” Greyson says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I survey the food that’s taking up most of the large kitchen island. I’m not usually such a glutton. Then again, I’m not accustomed to having so much food available and I have to admit, I’m a little worried about some of it spoiling before we get a chance to eat it. Letting food go to waste is probably considered an even bigger sin than gluttony in Silver Hills.

It must have been the alcohol. And Bailey who egged me on.

“I wonder how Bailey is feeling,” I say.

She told me she wasn’t much of a drinker and felt the booze as fast as I did.

“My sister may have gotten herself even drunker than you. At least you didn’t puke on me,” Greyson quips.

“She puked on you?”

“On Jase when he was drivin’ her home.”

My eyes widen. I sniff the air. “He’s not here anymore. New scents.” One scent is a scent I smelled before.

“Finn and Sean. Jase was gonna come back but something came up.”

My expression drops.

Greyson frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“I… d-didn’t get a chance to offer Jase anything to eat or drink,” I fib. “He spent all that time out there looking after me and I didn’t offer him anything. Maybe we should offer them some-”

Greyson cuts me off aggressively, “No bullshit. Not ever, Stace. Yeah?”

I jerk back.

“That’s not it. What is it?” he asks.

Shaking my head, I stammer, “I… uh… nothing, just...”

He straightens up and drops the fork full of spiral pasta that’s in his hand, with anger emanating from his eyes, so I speak fast while feeling like my heart is going to gallop straight out of my chest.

“It’s just… I heard a few of them out there last night and the one called Finnegan doesn’t have a very high opinion of me. I can hardly blame him after my transgressions against your pack. Pay no attention to me, I’ll just–”

The stool makes a screeching noise as Greyson pushes off and prowls out of the kitchen.

Uh oh.

“Grey…” I try but he ignores me and keeps going, so I follow down the hall and down the few steps to the front door. I stay in the doorway and watch him point his finger in the face of that Finnegan guy.

My hand covers my mouth as I listen.

“Hear me and do not expect me to repeat it. If we have to visit this again, it won’t go well for you.”

“What’s the matter, Grey?” the guy asks, losing the color in his face.

A third guy walks up the driveway as this is going on. Another alpha who came into the diner, who I poisoned.

Greyson continues, aggression rolling off him, “You say another negative thing about my mate either in her presence or if I happen to get wind of it, you’ll be spitting out your goddamn teeth, you get me?”

“Sorry, Grey. I meant no harm. Just shooting the shit out here and–”

Greyson growls. And this isn’t a sexual sounding growl. It’s a terrifying one, one that results in Finnegan showing Greyson his neck.

The beta standing near him looks at his feet.

Finally, body language I’m familiar with. But I can’t help but feel awful about causing Greyson to get angry again. And this won’t help my cause with the people in his pack, will it?

Now I’ve gone and snitched.

The other alpha’s eyes slide over me and so I back away before I can see his appraisal form as an expression on his face because it’ll show what he thinks of me, and I can well imagine. I sprinkled that herb into whipped cream that I put on top of his coconut cream pie in the diner. I put just a pinch. Way less than I was supposed to. But I know he got sick from it. If he doesn’t recognize me, he’ll have heard by now about it.

I’m backing up quickly as Greyson returns, slamming the door.

“Stop,” he commands.

I freeze in the entryway.

He quickly has me in his arms, index finger tipping my chin up, so I have no choice but to look into his angry eyes. “First, never bullshit me. About anything. Hear me?”

I nod. My chin is trembling.

“Second,” he goes on, “people need to get to know you. They get that chance, they won’t only not say negative shit, they also won’t even fuckin’ think it. Okay?”

I’m shaky as I reply, “He’s gonna think that not only should you reject me, also that I’m a snitch.”

Greyson’s eyes roll. “Get that out of your head.”

“The other alpha guy is one of the guys I poisoned. I’m sure he’s not happy about having to keep me safe either.”

“Gus isn’t keeping you safe. I’m keepin’ you safe.” Greyson thumps his chest with his fist. “Me. Not them. They’re my backup so I don’t have to keep my eyes and ears focused on the perimeter of the house when I wanna be focusin’ on you. They’re here to help make my life a little easier while we have our honeymooning time together, which I don’t like because my instinct tells me to rip the throats out of any male that gets within sniffing distance of you, but thankfully I can see past my urges and accept some backup since it benefits me to be able to focus on you rather than security 24/7. Let’s go.” He tags my hand and we return to the kitchen.

I’ve lost my appetite.

He, of course, tries to reassure me but I’m not only unconvinced that his people will all love me in no time, forgetting my sins, but I’m also a little quaky, still, because I absolutely hate making him angry.