Chapter 10
Stinger
It feels like heaven walking Ava home, her tiny body snuggled against me. But the journey is over far too soon, and before I know it, we’re in front of her front door, and she’s fumbling in her purse for her key.
“Let me.” I try to take it from her.
“No, I’ve got it,” she says with a hint of irritability. She’s tired, is all. She swings the door open and slips through. I go to follow her, but suddenly it’s closing in my face. When I put my hand up to stop it, her eyes widen.
“Thanks for everything today, Stinger,” she says in a firm tone.
My wolf lets off a whimper of hurt. Just in time, I trap the sound behind my teeth.
“I’d never hurt you, Ava. Don’t you know that?”
Her chest rises and falls. “I-I do. I’m just kind of overwhelmed.” She closes her eyes for a moment and grips the edge of the door so tight her fingertips go white.
I think she’s going to shut it, but then she swings it open wide. “You want to come in for a minute?”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I bound through, and close the door behind me.
“What are you doing?” she asks, as I fiddle with the latches and bolts.
“Just checking it’s nice and secure for you,” I reply.
She laughs. “It’s like Fort Knox in here. Elinor made sure of that.”
“She did a good job.” I admire Elinor’s handiwork. Three different bolts, a five-prong lock, and a deadlock.
“She says it’s enough to keep the beasts out. Well, most of them.” Ava raises an eyebrow at me, and I can tell she’s joking.
“I’m gonna make you some tea,” I tell her. “Warm you up.”
She blinks. “That’d be nice.”
I go to the kitchen, fill up the kettle and flick it on.
“The mugs are in the cupboard on the left,” she says, but I’m already reaching for it. I’ve watched her making tea a bunch of times. Sitting at her kitchen table, hands wrapped around the mug, staring wistfully through the window. I’ve always longed to know what she was thinking about.
“What flavor?”
She smiles. “Peppermint.”
I grab the appropriate teabag and drop it in the mug.
“I’ll give you a tour of the apartment while it’s brewing,” she says, and my heart leaps. She wants to show me her private space. Think she’s softening toward me a little.
“Kitchen.” She waves her arms playfully. I’m not real domesticated, but I comment on a couple of things that catch my eye, and I can tell she’s pleased. I compliment the table lamp, which has a shade that looks like a big, floppy flower.
“I chose that,” she says with a quick smile.
She shows me the living room, then the bathroom. She points to a door that’s cracked open. “Elinor’s room. But we’re not going in there.” She hesitates in front of the final closed door. Her bedroom, of course. My heart pounds in anticipation.
“What’s in there?” I ask innocently.
“My… room,” she mutters.
My breath catches. The fact she’s hesitating means she’s thinking the same thing that I am.
She’s imagining us wrapped around each other in that double bed.
It’s a narrow one, barely enough space for two.
I’ll have to sleep with her snuggled tight in my arms all night. Sounds just about perfect to me.
“Got something you don’t want me to see?”
“No.”
“Well then.”
She gives a little frustrated sigh and swings the door open.
The sweet scent that rushes out fills my veins with longing.
I already know she smells extra sweet when she’s sleeping.
Like the first snowdrops of the season. The bed is made up neatly with a pale pink coverlet, and all kinds of feminine stuff is decorating the windows.
Feathers and dream catchers, et cetera. It’s a far cry from my rig, and I wonder again if she hated it in there.
If she still regrets losing her virginity in such a dump.
Next time we mate, I’m gonna make the room perfect for her, I promise myself. Full of all the soft, feminine things she wants. I’ll cover the bed in rose petals, fill up the bath with some pretty-smelling bubble bath.
“Comfy bed?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s comfy,” she says, but she can’t meet my eyes and her cheeks warm.
“Okay, tour complete.” She turns businesslike and marches us out of the bedroom. I follow her, disappointed. I’d been hoping to seduce her, right then and there. She hovers in the hallway.
“I’ll cook for you,” I say, before she thinks about telling me to leave.
She blinks. “You can cook?”
Kinda. “I’m good with pasta and sauce and stuff.” Pasta and meat and sauce is literally the only thing I can cook.
“I think I’ve got some takeout from Sinner’s in the fridge. Just needs reheating.”
She wanders into the kitchen and I follow.
I pull a chair out. “You sit right here and relax, and I’ll cook.”
“Okay,” she says. She trusts me to know what’s best for her. I like that.
I pull out some take-out boxes from the fridge. It all smells appetizing.
“Meredith, the owner’s mom, does all the cooking. She’s real good,” Ava comments.
“She a bear?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Ava says.
“Figures,” I say, emptying a meat casserole onto a plate and tossing it into the microwave. Microwaving I can do, too.
As I grab the plates and silverware, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. She’s watching me. My wolf can sense it. I wonder what she’s thinking when she takes in my big, clumsy body, filling her kitchen.
“Why do they call you, Stinger?” she asks. I glance at her over my shoulder, and her eyes are so full of curiosity, a smile tugs at the corners of my lips.
“What makes you think it wasn’t the name I was born with?” I demand.
She shrugs prettily, her hands wrapped around her mug of peppermint tea.
“I got stung when I was a kid,” I say.
Her mouth forms a surprised O.
“You’re probably thinking I did something to someone else, right?”
Her lips twist. “Maybe.”
“No, it was a bee. Stung me when I was a little pup, and I howled like a baby. But folks used to pull my chain, and say it was a brave bee to have stung me.”
Her lips part in a beautiful smile. “They should’ve called you Stung.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it?”
When I put two steaming plates on the table, Ava digs right in, with a quick, “Thanks, Stinger.”
She looks a little less spiky now, but she’s still wary of me. I sense the tautness in her body. And I hate it.
When we finish eating, I pull my chair around so it’s directly in front of her, and I pat my knee. “Come on.”
She frowns. “Come on, what?”
“Let me give you a foot rub.”
She blinks. “No, it’s okay.”
“Your feet are aching, aren’t they?”
“How did you know that?”
“From the way you’ve been walking.”
“But I haven’t been walking any different—” She breaks off and regards me suspiciously. “Wait, you know that because you’re a shifter?”
I shrug. I know these kinds of things aren’t obvious to humans. I tap my knee again.
With a little sigh, she raises her delicate feminine leg and places her foot on my thigh.
A hiss of pleasure escapes between my teeth.
Her feet, like the rest of her, are beautiful.
Small and perfectly formed. I close my hand around the little dainty thing, and start to stroke her arch with my thumbs.
At first, she’s even tenser than before, but soon she shuffles her ass forward in the chair and leans back so she’s in a comfier position. When I dart a glance at her face, I see her eyes are fluttering closed.
“Let me know if I’m doing okay?” I say.
“You’re doing amazing,” she says with a sigh, and the sound is so sexy, my cock turns as hard as a rock.
I long to press those little feet against my erection.
I’m not one of those freaky foot fetishists, but suddenly, the thought brings me close to blowing my load.
I sneak another glance at her. Her eyes are fully closed now, her head tipped back against the kitchen wall.
I want to slide my hands up her legs, a little bit at a time, then draw her onto my lap.
But, first things first. Now she’s warm, safe and has a full stomach, I need to get the truth out of her.
“You gonna tell me why someone was after you today?” I begin, keeping my voice soft.
Her eyes fly open and the pain in them makes me wish I didn’t have to ask the question. But I have to know. Have to know what I’m up against.
“Oh, it’s nothing. You said they wouldn’t come back.”
Before I can stop it, my wolf lets off a little growl. She gasps and jerks her feet away from me.
Damn. Now I’ve gone and scared her again.
“Ava, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to scare you, but I’m trying to protect you.”
Emotions pass across her face, too quick for me to figure out what they are. “I don’t need protecting.”
“Of course, you do. Just tell me what you need, Ava. I’ll take out anyone and everyone who wants to hurt you. I’ll do it. You know I will.”
She kind of flinches. Shit. I know that look. It’s the looks people give me when I’m being all over-the-top aggressive.
“Tell me why Vaughn kicked you out of the pack?” she demands. “Why he says you always let him down?”
I drop my head as shame takes hold of me again. I want to explain, but all that comes out of my mouth are growls and grunts.
She gives a long, drawn-out sigh. “I was raised in a screwed-up criminal family,” she says in a quiet voice. “Bikers, basically.”
My head jerks up. “No way.”
Her lips stretch into a grim smile. “Don’t seem like it, do I?”
My head is spinning. I shake it vigorously. “Not at all.”
“I’m not like them. I used to wonder if I’m my parents’ biological child.
I don’t even look like them. From a young age, I figured out what was going on with them, and I wanted no part of it—” She breaks off, her chest rising and falling.
“And then the law caught up with them. Turns out the Feds have been building a big case against them. I’d been dreaming about leaving for a long time, but that’s how I got my out.
My parents could hardly force me to stay, when it looks like they’re all going down for a long time. ”