Chapter 25
JARED
The Following Day
I stop beside the two vehicles parked a mile up the old dirt road and wave.
One vehicle has two Arcana Falls pack members in it. I don’t know them, but they both wave.
The other has Cicely’s father. He gives me a kill-stare and doesn’t wave. He didn’t wave when I left yesterday, either.
I roll my window, hoping to clear the air. “Sir…”
“Got nothin’ to say to you,” he replies, gesturing for me to drive on.
“I–”
He cuts me off. “Go to her. She’s been frettin’ since you left.”
Yeah, I’m feeling it.
I move along, catching her strengthening scent. I’ve had a sense of her emotions for the last few miles of my drive back and it doesn’t feel good. In fact, now it feels like something’s off.
I open the door to the Airstream and she’s sitting on the couch. She drops her phone and tries to level me with daggers from her gaze, but immediately, her expression drops and she dissolves into tears, covering her face with her hands.
I set down my phone, wallet, keys, and the muzzle along with the flower bouquet, the box of chocolates, and the bottle of bourbon and rush to her.
“Hey…” I squat in front of her.
She shoves me with both hands, and I nearly lose my balance.
“Twenty-seven hours!” she chokes out.
“Twenty-”
“Why didn’t you phone me?” She shoves me again, harder, and I land on my ass before she puts her hand to her chest and begins hyperventilating.
I scoop her up, sit down where she was sitting, and cradle her close.
She’s pissed off and she’s hurting. The crushing pain coming from her hurts so much.
“Do you feel better?” she asks, brokenly.
“A little, yeah.”
“Glad one of us does!”
“Cicely…”
“You’re lucky you brought me booze, flowers, and chocolate or you’d have a black eye right now.”
“Babe…” Interesting that she listed the booze first.
She pushes off my lap, stomps to the table and opens the bottle of whisky before taking a swig.
A woman built for me. Absolutely.
I explain, “I let it out at the edge of a national forest and when I woke up man again, I had to hike eight hours in the nude to get back to where my truck was. And it was cold and raining and–”
“And yet when you got back to the truck and your phone, you didn’t pick it up to tell me you were on your way home. You asked for my number; did you put it in your phone?”
“I did.”
“That means you could’ve called me how many hours ago?”
“Three.”
“That also means you didn’t concern yourself until you got here with how I’m doing.”
Shit. I figured if something was wrong I’d have missed calls, texts, or voicemails, but I’m not dumb enough to point this out.
I also don’t point out that I stopped to get her booze, flowers, and chocolate.
As well as to buy myself two rotisserie chickens, which I devoured with my bare hands while driving back.
I wore the muzzle before I shifted, to be sure it couldn’t kill anything, and I was beyond ravenous before I had to hike eight hours out of the bush.
That chicken barely put a dent in my hunger.
I say, “Just wanted to get back fast. I’ll call next time.”
“The minute you can.”
“The minute I can, guaranteed,” I say.
“You’d better.” She peels her shirt off and throws it. The bra comes off next.
I grin.
But she’s not smiling. In fact, I think my grin is pissing her off even more. She drops the shorts she’s wearing and kicks them off. They hit me.
I take a step closer to her, ready for this reunion.
She flicks her hair back, informing, “I’m going for my run now. Put those flowers in water and make us some dinner, yeah? I’ll be hungry when I get back.”
She leaves.
Yeah, leaves. Leaves me with my mouth open in shock.
26
CICELY
When I’m back, my mouth is watering. And for more than just the delicious-smelling food he’s cooking at the tailgate of the Airstream on a little grill.
He’s freshly showered and shaved, dressed in just a pair of basketball shorts, a baseball cap on his head, his fantastic chest and arms on display.
I smell steak. I see foil-wrapped potatoes.
I resist the urge to go straight to him and instead I walk past to go inside the camper and head for the shower, noticing the two foil wrapped dishes on the table as well as the fact that the table is set with plates, cutlery, and the flowers he brought me, which sit in a tall travel mug in the middle of the table. I can’t help but crack a smile.
After I shower, I decide to put a little effort in.
I swipe on some black mascara and red lipstick, flip my head and quickly blast my hair with my blow dryer, just enough so it’s no longer sopping wet and is left with some beachy waves.
I pull on a red lace one-piece teddy before I put on one of my denim skirts and a cute, frilly blouse.
I hear him come in and smell the food, so I join him.
He’s put the potatoes and steaks on our plates already and is peeling the foil off the two dishes while drinking me in with hunger in his eyes.
One dish holds fried mushrooms and caramelized onions.
The other holds a bowl of buttery green beans.
I reach into the fridge and pull out the bottle of the Quinn honey mead, saying, “I’d planned to save this special wine that Mason’s parents send to newly mated couples for when we knew we were good, but fuck it.
Today is a good day. You’re back here safely, you didn’t run away. ”
He frowns.
I add, “And since we don’t know what tomorrow will bring, tonight, we enjoy ourselves. I have to say, I’m glad you can cook.”
I set it down on the table and turn back to the cupboard to get some glasses.
He’s directly behind me, arms around my middle, mouth to my mate mark.
He kisses it and says, “Never planned to stay gone. Never even crossed my mind.”
“Good.”
“Sorry I didn’t call. Woke up and just wanted to get back to you. From now on, I’ll call right after.”
“From now on?” I query, turning around to face him.
He cups my jaw with one hand. “Gonna have to do that once a week at minimum. Gotta let it out once a week to run. Gotta have a safe place to lock down ahead of lunar events, too. That’s just how it is for me.
Best get used to it. Probably won’t be as long as this most times, but it’s been too long since it could run. Sorry, babe.”
“Okay,” I say.
He gives me another kiss on my neck. “But I’ll call the minute I can.”
“Maybe tomorrow they can measure you when you’re shifted, and we can put a tracking collar or ankle monitor. If I know where you are, I’ll feel better.”
“Whatever you need,” he says and kisses my mate mark again.
I take his jaw into both hands. “I missed you.”
He closes his eyes. I both watch and feel the emotion washing through him. He likes that.
“A lot,” I add. “It made me grumpy instead of welcoming you back. I’ll do better next time. As long as you fucking call me. Okay?”
He grabs his hat from his head and tosses it, then kisses me. Deep, passionately. He grabs my ass and hikes me up, ready to take me to bed. I sort of duck, so my head doesn’t hit the ceiling.
“That’ll have to wait, baby,” I advise. “I’m starving. And dinner smells really, really good.”
He growls out a little sound of frustration which fully saturates my undies.
“Eat fast, woman,” he demands, the tendons in his neck straining.
I laugh.
“I’m not jokin’.”
I laugh some more and hug him tight, which pretty much buries his face in my breasts.
“Eat your food, you wicked female,” he slaps my ass and sets me down.
I do a little shimmy with the first bite of melt-in-my-mouth meat and run my foot up his leg while moaning and nodding. Finally, he smiles.
I pour the mead for us both and yes, I drank that first bottle alone and enjoyed it immensely as I always do when consuming something the Quinns make; they’re very talented at wine and at hooch.
But this bottle? Drinking it with my fated mate here and now…
it tastes even better. And I have a feeling Skye won’t mind giving me a third bottle to celebrate when we find our way through our challenges.
***
Dinner was fantastic. Well, three quarters of it was, but we didn’t get to finish.
And that might have been not just because we’d spent a day apart, it might also have had something to do with the fact that my foot kept sliding up and down his leg until I started massaging his cock with my toes.
He hit his limit and went a little feral, declaring dinnertime was over and that it was time for dessert.
He grabbed his mask and my belt before tagging my hand and telling me I’d be up and over his shoulder if the roof in this trailer wasn’t so low.
“Fuck,” he says with reverence once he’s gotten me down to the one-piece red lace teddy. I feel very sexy in it, especially with this look on his face.
He loops a finger into one shoulder strap and slips it off me.
“Fuck me,” he says as he repeats the motion with the other strap before sitting on the edge of the bed in front of me.
He reaches out and cups me between the legs. His fingers move and now the snaps holding the crotch together release. He’s holding eye contact while he does this and it’s hot as fuck.
Now he’s sliding his finger inside me, crooking it and using his grip to bring me closer. The sensations make me gasp.
Sheesh, the look in my mate’s eyes is sizzling hot.
“Come here. On your back. Open wide for me, beautiful.”
I lay back and do as I’m told, giddiness flooding my veins like champagne bubbles.
His lips, tongue, and teeth work their way slowly, tortuously down to my breast. He suckles over the lace and releases my nipple far too soon for my liking. But he keeps moving south and now I’m arching in anticipation of where his mouth seems to be heading.
My legs are thrown over his broad shoulders and he spreads me open wide, assessing what’s between my legs for a long moment where he looks like he likes what he sees. I feel vulnerable and exposed; this feels very erotic. It feels right.