Chapter Twenty-nine
As a large, calloused hand snatched one of her nachos, Emberlyn frowned at Ripper. ‘You’re still hungry?’ The dude had just demolished a large platter of chicken wings.
Dunking the nacho into her cheesy dip, he replied, ‘Nope.’
‘Then why . . .’ Emberlyn trailed off with a sigh as he held it up to her mouth. Werewolves and their need to feed those under their care. ‘You don’t have to go this far to ensure I eat.’ She bit into the nacho.
‘I know that.’ He dunked what was left of the nacho into the dip and then offered it to her. ‘Humor me.’
She chewed on it, inwardly rolling her eyes.
Satisfaction leaked into his gaze – it was easy to see even in the bar’s dim lighting because he sat so damn close, his thigh pressed against hers beneath the table, his arm slung over the back of her chair in a gesture both protective and possessive.
Occasionally, the hand attached to that arm played with her hair or doodled circles on her shoulder.
‘I said bye-bye to my personal space the moment I agreed to “serious”, didn’t I?’
Mirth warmed his eyes. ‘Pretty much, yeah.’ The reply was utterly unapologetic.
Honestly, she wasn’t that bothered by it. Having him swallow up her space this way made her hormones giddy and tipsy. They were all but throwing themselves at him.
A delicious sexual awareness steamed the air, humming with the promise he’d earlier made: ‘When we go back to your place, I’m going to eat your pussy until you beg me to stop. You think you won’t beg. Wrong. You’ll be so wrecked by then you’ll do whatever I want.’
She was honestly curious as to whether he was right. It wouldn’t embarrass her to beg – her pride wasn’t so fragile. And ‘wrecked’ sounded somewhat intriguing.
Hearing a familiar feminine laugh, she looked to where Paisley and Crew were going hell for leather on the dance floor. They both had some serious moves.
Not far from the clan’s brewery restaurant, the bar was very old-timey, comfortable and invitingly lively. The décor was neutral and warm, and wooden veneer paneling adorned the bar’s walls. The upbeat vibe appealed to her magick, and little motes of it dusted her skin.
There were no dress codes or fancy drinks. A wide selection of beers were served, as well as hearty foods. Classic cocktails, various liqueurs and even coffee were also offered.
She and Ripper had picked a circular table that had a good view of the stage, where the live band played. Consisting of werewolves from all three clans, they were pretty good.
The music didn’t override the rest of the noise – the place was far too crowded for that. As such, there was a whole lot of chatter, laughter, clinking of glasses, sizzling of hot food and the cheers or disappointed groans coming from the pool table.
The patrons tonight were all werewolves, and most were from Ripper’s clan. Those not sitting around were amusing themselves using the dartboard, pool table or gambling machines, while others danced to the live music.
Emberlyn had done enough dancing for the evening. Ripper hadn’t at any point joined her on the dance floor. But he’d watched her like a hawk from their table, a dangerous heat flooding his gaze.
Feeling the velvet rasp of his tongue against her throat, she asked, ‘What are you doing?’
‘Your magick is dusting your skin, and I like the taste of it,’ he rumbled. ‘It’s sweet and warm with a distinct tang. Makes me . . . hungry.’
Her belly clenched at the sexual undertone to his words.
‘Maybe don’t lick me too much in public.
I’d rather not get wet in a room full of people who have an enhanced sense of smell.
’ She carefully picked up her beer, conscious of how it had become slippery from condensation.
It was her third drink of the night and, at this point, she was almost as tipsy as her hormones.
Ripper seemed to have a hollow leg. He’d downed beers, a whisky and two tequila shots. Yet, he seemed sober as a judge.
His lips grazed her ear. ‘I never would have guessed you’d order beer.’
‘Why?’
‘You’re all class and elegance. I figured you would have ordered cocktails.’
‘It’s fun to keep you on your toes.’ She tipped back her bottle, and the cool liquid went down easy. No sooner had she set her beer back on the damp coaster than he held yet another nacho to her mouth. ‘Thank you.’ She ate it, the tastes of salt and cheese bursting on her tongue.
The arm hooked over her chair stiffened, so she wasn’t surprised to see that some wolves were on their way over. People occasionally stopped by their table to say hello to their Alpha. Ripper handled it graciously, but she sensed he’d prefer if they were left alone.
As Kerr and Logan boldly took the seats opposite, she nabbed a napkin from the dispenser and wiped her wet hand.
‘Hey,’ Kerr greeted with a chin lift.
Ripper gave him a flat stare. ‘What do you want?’
‘To win your heart,’ he mocked. ‘What do you think I want? I came to say hey.’
‘Which you’ve done twice tonight already, so . . .’ Ripper waved them both away.
Logan smirked. ‘I’d give you shit for wanting to have Emberlyn all to yourself, but I totally get it. You serious you’d never share her?’
‘Yes,’ Ripper stated.
His brother sighed. ‘That’s a damn shame.’
‘No, it ain’t.’
Knowing that Logan was only poking at Ripper for fun, Emberlyn balled up the damp napkin and tossed it Logan’s way. ‘Stop taunting your brother.’
‘But it lifts my mood,’ Logan quipped.
Kerr grinned at him. ‘He’d share her with me.’ His attention moved back to Ripper. ‘Wouldn’t you?’
‘No,’ Ripper stated.
Kerr’s lips parted in mock hurt. ‘I thought we were best friends. Sharing is caring.’
His brows drawn tight together, Ripper looked from one male to the other as he said, ‘Fuck off, both of you.’
They only chuckled.
There was a screech of wood against wood as a burly guy stumbled into the neighboring table and made it skid along the floor. Bottles tipped over and a burger hit the floor with a splat, but the people sitting there only laughed good naturedly.
Sighing, Logan stood. ‘We’d better get some coffee down him so he sobers up some.’
Nodding his agreement, Kerr pushed out of his chair and followed Logan to the slurring, staggering male wolf.
Ripper’s tension eased, but not quite enough for Emberlyn’s liking.
The truth was that a fine line of tension had been humming through him all evening, and she couldn’t ascertain the source of it.
Initially, she’d assumed that he was just annoyed over Crew and Paisley accompanying them on their date.
She had thought his tension might therefore disappear after some time chilling at the bar, but she’d been wrong.
Emberlyn gently poked his side. ‘What’s wrong?’
His gaze snapped to hers. ‘Nothing at all.’
‘Then explain why you’re wound tight, and don’t blame it on how many people keep interrupting our date.’
He looked away, a subtle sigh easing out of him. ‘I planned to tell you tomorrow so it didn’t shit on our evening.’
‘Much as I appreciate the sentiment behind that plan, I’m not down with it. I’d rather know now.’ Otherwise it would only play on her mind, and he wouldn’t be able to properly relax.
He angled his body slightly toward hers, saying nothing for long moments. ‘I had a visit from the Reeds earlier.’
Emberlyn felt herself go rigid. ‘The Reeds? What did they want?’
He hesitated a beat. ‘For me to let you go.’
Annoyance made her jaw clench. ‘They actually asked that of you?’
He gave a sharp nod, his own irritation clear in his hard expression. ‘They still consider you to be Michael’s mate. They believe that you still love him; that you’d reclaim him if he came back. And they don’t acknowledge that I have any rights to you.’
‘They seriously said that?’ Ballsy. It wasn’t a wise idea to try to come between an Alpha wolf and anything he considered his.
To take it a step further and imply he had no claim to what he felt he owned?
She wouldn’t advise it, and there wasn’t much that Emberlyn would shy away from doing. ‘What did you say?’
‘In so many words . . . I told them that they can believe whatever they like, but the reality is that you’re mine now, not his.’
Good answer.
The hand that had been tossed over her shoulder shifted to palm her nape.
‘They may not let it drop – in their mind, they’re doing this for their son.
They won’t pay me a second visit, though.
They’ll try their luck with you. If that happens, you call me.
You could handle it on your own, I get that.
But you don’t have to, baby.’ He nuzzled her face.
‘You don’t gotta do anything alone anymore – you have me now. ’
Swallowing hard, she fisted the bottom of his tee.
‘Fine. But you have to call me if they try again to convince you to let me go. I’m not upset that you didn’t do it this time – you had no idea when they turned up at your house that they would ask that of you.
But now you do. So if they do it again, you call me.
And if they try it with me, I’ll call you. Deal?’
He touched the tip of his nose to hers in that way he sometimes did. ‘Deal,’ he said, hesitant. ‘But I won’t lie – I’d rather take care of this shit myself so you don’t have to.’
‘Why should you get to have all the fun?’
Humor flickered in his gaze, but it gradually faded as his expression shifted into something more serious. ‘What would you do if Michael came back?’
Emberlyn leaned back slightly. ‘You don’t think I’d do as his parents said and go reclaim him, do you?’
‘Not at all. But I wondered if you’d want to be there for him while he recovered, because I know you unnecessarily feel partly responsible for him losing control and turning Rabid.’