Chapter 9
Darcy had been through enough tonight, and Jack was anxious to have her all to himself, in his room, in his bed, taking care of her for the rest of the night.
He wished she hadn’t had to go out for the wolfsbane, but she was the most logical person to go find it, and in the meantime, he wanted to think of something immediate, something special, that he could do for her.
He’d never had someone to take care of, so ideas didn’t come quickly.
Any of the women he’d been with before Darcy had been short-lived, emotionally detached, incredibly frustrating screwing sessions that never ended in much satisfaction.
He’d never had a girlfriend or a longtime repeat lover, even.
Just a handful of unfulfilling liaisons that hadn’t amounted to anything memorable.
But after the night she’d had, the fear she’d experienced, and her loving acceptance of him in all his forms, he wanted to do something special for her.
He also wanted to have sex with her. Badly.
He swallowed hard, remembering the vibrations that had ripped through his body as Julien and Lela bound themselves.
He’d heard about the sweet, hot connection that bound couples felt at Gathering bindings, but he’d never experienced the phenomenon for himself.
And Darcy’s face. Her heavy eyes and flushed cheeks, so hot for him, the smell of her body dripping wet for him.
He sighed. Slow down, Jack. He felt like, after everything, he needed to earn his time with her tonight.
First, he showered his dirty body, scrubbing the forest away.
He cut the overgrowth of his hair and shaved his beard down to shadow and stubble, then put on a pair of flannel pants that hung down around his hips.
He had no candles—he could see in the dark, so they served no practical purpose—but his bedroom had a fireplace, so he built a fire.
When he heard his car in the driveway, he started running a hot bath for her, then sat down on his bed and waited.
Nervously. Like a teenager who’d asked a pretty girl to the prom and was hoping to get lucky afterward.
He looked around the room, his heart racing with anticipation.
A knock on the door. His heart leaped, and he took a deep breath, turning the knob only to be disappointed by Julien’s face peeking around the door sheepishly.
He was naked and dirty and looked immensely satisfied.
Jack’s nose curled up from smells wafting off Julien and Lela’s sated bodies, his expression curdling.
“Fiche ton camp, Julien.” Piss off! Jack growled at his little brother. He was in no mood to deal with Julien, or Lela, for that matter. In fact, Lela would do well to place herself as far away from Jack as possible.
“J’ai pas de pantalon,” Julien hissed, flicking his eyes to his groin.
“For chrissakes,” mumbled Jack, walking over to his bureau to grab some jeans and throwing them at his brother.
“Tomorrow, we’ll, um…straighten up the, uh—” Julien pointed his finger at the ceiling.
“Fine. Just get out of here, please.”
“Um, can Lela borrow some clothes? From Darcy?”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Julien shrugged.
“Where is Lela, my darling, psychotic little sister?”
Julien moved to his left and a naked Lela peered at Jack from around Julien’s shoulder, her face a mixture of sexual satisfaction and contrition.
“I’m good and pissed off at you right now, petite soeur.”
“Je comprends,” she murmured, casting her eyes down. “Je suis désolée, Jacques.”
“Your apology doesn’t mean a whole lot to me right now, Lela.” He trudged to the bathroom and took his bathrobe off the back of the bathroom door. He handed it to Julien humorlessly. “I’m not asking Darcy for anything. This is the best I can do for her.”
Julien handed the robe to Lela, and she shrugged it on over her shoulders, keeping her eyes downcast. Julien pulled her to his side protectively before looking back at Jack. “She said she was sorry.”
“She tried to kill my mate. Why don’t I try to kill yours, and you can see how you feel?”
“Okay, Jacques. You made your point.” They backed away from Jack’s bedroom and headed to the stairs. Jack assumed they’d be sharing the pullout loveseat in the studio above the garage where Julien had been staying. Good. He didn’t even want them in the house tonight.
He plopped back down on his bed, trying to find his previous enthusiasm.
The fates were kind because right then his door opened, and Darcy peeked her head in, her lips tilting up into a smile as she found his face, and every thought of Julien and Lela flew out of his head.
She slid around the door, closing it behind her, then ran to the bed without a word, maneuvering herself onto his lap, straddling him, her knees resting by his sides on the bed.
His hands immediately reached for her hips as she ran her hands through his hair, looking at his face with such tenderness that his breath caught in his throat.
He would figure out the equinox. He couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t give her up. He promised Willow that he’d tell Darcy about the re-binding, but not now. Not right this minute. Right now, he just needed to be with her.
She bent her head and kissed the skin under his ear.
He counted quickly in his mind. Four weeks, five, six, seven…fifty days. Fifty days until the equinox.
He felt her breath, hot with hunger, and it made him shiver.
I still have time.
Her tongue darted out to flick the sensitive lobe.
Fifty days.
Fift—
Her teeth caught the lobe lightly and tugged as her hands trailed down his chest, slipping into the waistband of his soft, flannel pants, her cool fingers brushing the top of his rigid erection.
Ahhhhh.
Jack had insisted the bath was for her.
She had informed him that if he didn’t join her, she wasn’t taking a bath at all.
Hopping out of bed naked, she tugged his hand until he got up and followed her into the bathroom.
She touched the pre-filled water with her fingers and must have found it cool because she turned on the hot water and perched on the edge of the tub with her legs crossed gracefully, watching the steaming water fall.
And all the while, Jack watched her, leaning against the bathroom door with his arms crossed, wondering what she was feeling.
Even though they’d just made love, they’d barely spoken a word other than groaning one another’s names intermittently.
It worried him a little. After a lifetime of waiting and longing, he wanted to trust that despite what she’d seen tonight, she really wanted him, that she really belonged to him, that she wouldn’t decide to walk away, but it was hard.
She turned the faucet, and the water stopped. He watched as she stepped into the tub, sinking down beneath the hot water with a light sigh, easing back until she rested against the comfortably curved contours of the large tub. She looked up at him, and he watched as she spread her legs to a V.
He drew a sharp breath, looking at her face with raised eyebrows. “What next?”
“Come sit with me,” she said softly, raising the hand closest to him.
“Do you want to—”
She shook her head slowly. “Nope. We’re relaxing. We’ll do that again…soon.”
He stepped into the conventional, though oversized, tub, sitting down between her legs and leaning back against her breasts. The hot water lapped against his skin, and she raised her knees to his sides. He knew she was wide open behind him, and the thought made him harden reflexively.
“Darcy,” he groaned.
“Just be comfortable,” she suggested, her voice low and tired, but amused. “Relax.”
Relax with his naked mate behind him. Right.
He leaned back against her lightly, sinking down just a little until his head rested right above her breasts, and he felt her arms encircle him around his neck, her hands resting on his upper chest, over his heart. He took a deep breath and sighed, surprised that he was actually relaxing.
“This is nice,” he breathed, closing his eyes.
“Mm-hmm.”
He might have almost fallen asleep if she hadn’t spoken again.
“Why are you worried?” she asked.
Jack stiffened for a moment, wondering if Willow had broken her promise and said something to Darcy about the re-binding, but she continued, “I can feel it.”
He took the soap in his hands, then rubbed gently up and down her legs on either side of him, loving the smooth slickness of her skin under his fingers. “You saw me. Shifted.”
“Mm-hmm,” she breathed again, leaning forward to press her lips to his wet shoulder. “I saw you shifted.” She paused before speaking again. “Do you think I love you less now?”
“It must have been shocking.”
“It was,” she admitted, her lips still close to the skin of his shoulder, occasionally pressing against it, and he sensed it was an absent-minded gesture as she gathered her thoughts.
“Until I looked in your eyes. Your eyes. I saw you there, I heard you there…and then I couldn’t see anything but you, Jack.
You’re still you, whether you’re like this”—she rubbed her hands lightly over his chest from behind—“or like that. And I love you either way.” She kissed his shoulder again.
He reached up to clasp her hands tenderly, moving the left to his mouth and then the right, pressing his lips to the freckled backs for several moments before releasing them, returning them to his chest and covering her hands with his own.
“You’ve never pulled me inside before,” he said, wondering how she had figured it out.
“I didn’t like it,” she said after a few quiet moments. “I like it better when you do it. It felt strange. Too strange.”
“You’re just not used to it.” He sighed, squeezing her fingers, knowing that Dansmatête didn’t necessarily manifest itself identically in both mates. “It’s a good tool, though, to be able to find me if you need me.”
“I never intend to be further away from you than this,” she said softly, kissing his neck.