Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
F iona
The creak of brakes wakes me. I blink and raise my head and realize that the warm surface cradling my head is Declan’s shoulder. Shit, did I drool on him? I pat the fabric, looking for damp patches, and my touch shakes him awake as well.
“Wha-?” He looks up.
“We’re here.” Parker sounds exhausted, but he insisted on driving through the night, all the way to Tucson. After Lucius and Selene left, Declan and I hitched up the trailer to the truck. Allison called all the deer into the trailer and lulled them into a calm, drowsy state.
The first thing I do is turn my head to check on the trailer, but it’s gone. “Where are the deer?”
“Dropped them off an hour ago,” Parker says. “Selene had people waiting to take care of them, and it was easy.”
“Geez. I slept through all that?”
Declan brushes my hair back from my face. “Ya must have been tired from the fight.” He rests his hand on my nape. I’d never let anyone else touch me there, and it feels amazing.
“I guess.” I stretch my arms in front of me. There’s not much room back here, crammed next to Declan. In the front seat, Allison’s cozied up to Laurie, fast asleep. He carefully opens the passenger side door and slips out, turning to scoop her into his arms. She doesn’t stir.
Turning into a dove also must have also worn her out. It’s not like we shift and fight vampires regularly.
Laurie carries Allison up the walkway to a single-story stucco home. The place is cuter than I’d expected, neatly landscaped with stone and cacti.
“Is this where you live?” I ask.
“Yes,” Parker answers slowly. “Except…”
Declan slides out of the truck cab and props his hands on his hips. “Who decorated?”
There are twinkly white lights edging the roof and door. In the dawn-prelight, the whole place has a cheery glow.
“G-g-guys?” Laurie calls. He’s at the door, still holding Allison. We scramble up the path to help him. Declan unlocks the door and holds it open, so Laurie can carry Allison in.
“You’ve got mail.” I point to the big red envelope taped above the doorbell.
Parker grabs it and rips it open. “To Allison, Declan, Fiona, Laurie and Parker. May your solstice be merry and bright. Love, Selene and Lucius.”
“Awww, they gave us a holiday card,” I say and sniff the paper. It smells like Selene.
Declan steps inside and makes a shocked noise.
“What the hell is happening?” Parker says.
“What?” The house is bright and airy and smells a little like fresh paint. There’s an espresso-brown leather couch and two matching recliner chairs. Someone put a white mantel-style shelf on the wall and hung five stockings from it. There’s one for each of us, bearing our names. “This is nice.”
“Exactly,” Parker spins in a slow circle. “When we left, this place was a run-down wreck.”
“Well, someone’s cleaned.” There’s a scent of lemony polish, as well as freshly baked cookie scent–sugar and vanilla. I follow Declan into the kitchen and gasp in delight. The wooden cabinets are a bit old fashioned, but polished to a golden shine. The stove and fridge are vintage 1950s, but well preserved and a pristine white. A plate of sugar cookies sits on the big white table in the breakfast nook. The big bay window has a great view of the Catalina Mountains–and a big Christmas tree is on the patio.
“Is that the tree from the top of the bus?” I ask. It’s the same size and type of fir but looks totally transformed covered with white lights and golden ornaments. There are wrapped presents piled under it.
“Santa came,” Allison says. She strolls in, looking sleepy, with Laurie in tow. He and Parker and Declan all have their mouths open, jaws on the floor.
“With a little help from Selene and Mr. F. Look.” I pick up one of the cookies. It’s shaped and decorated as a raccoon, with red candy pearls for eyes. There’s a dove, an owl, and two canine-shaped ones, too. One of them is wearing a gray fedora. I pass them around.
“Merry Christmas to us.” I take a bite out of mine.
“Christmas or solstice?” Allison asks, her dark eyes twinkling.
“I dunno. Saturnalia? I don’t care as long as there are cookies. I’ll hit those presents, too, as soon as I get some shuteye.” I glance at Declan and decide to be blunt. “Do you mind if we stay here?”
He recovers quickly from the surprise and nods. “Of course. Stay as long as ya like.”
“Great. Where’s your bedroom?” I head past Allison and Laurie, through the door and down the hall. It takes a minute, but Declan scrambles after me, cussing as he bumps into Parker.
I smile to myself. Guess he can take a hint.
He follows me into the bedroom and shuts the door, shrugging off his leather jacket.
“Whoa.” Declan stares at the queen-sized bed covered in a crisp, white duvet.
“What?”
“Selene bought me a new bed.” He walks over and peels back the covers. The bedding looks new, too. Fluffy king-sized white pillows match the goose feather duvet.
I kick off my boots and unbutton my jeans. “It looks more comfortable than a treehouse floor, not that I minded.”
Declan shrugs out of his jacket. “Are ya goin’ to be my sexy Santa again?”
There’s a sweet tinge to his weird ass scent. I like it. I liked it the first time I scented it.
“No, I thought you could be Santa this time, and I could sit on your lap.” I bat my lashes at him in a ridiculous attempt at seduction.
I've never seen a man undress so quickly. And I’m not sorry. His body is a thing of beauty, scarred, like mine, but cut with lean muscle. A dusting of dark hair covers his sculpted chest. He stalks forward, settles his hands on my waist, and picks me up. “Oh yeah?” He tosses me on the bed. “I’ll play Santa for you, lass. Tell me, sweet Fiona, have ya been a good girl or bad girl this year?”
I rise up on my knees and peel my shirt off over my head. “Oh, Santa, I’ve been a very bad girl.”
Declan growls and reaches for the waistband of my unbuttoned jeans. One tug, and they’re halfway down my thighs, along with my panties.
He gives my ass a slap. “What happens to bad girls?”
The place where he slapped stings in a hot, prickly, satisfying way. If anyone else had dared touch me that way, I would’ve chopped his head off. But with Declan, it feels like play. Like appreciation. Like excitement and heat and the spark of a match on flint.
“Bad girls get spanked,“ I tell him, lowering to my elbows with my ass high in the air.
Declan lets out an animal-like snarl of approval as he climbs onto the bed. His fingers burrow into my hair, and he massages the back of my head before closing them in a fist to hold me steady for my spanking. His hand claps down on my ass, right and left, warming it with steady strikes.
I’m panting, blood, rushing south, kicking into high gear. I want Declan like I’ve never wanted anyone–male or female–before.
“Fuck, yeah,” I growl at him.
He tightens his grip on my hair and tugs a little harder as he slides two fingers between my legs. I’m beyond wet, dripping for him. “Do you like that, my fierce Fiona? “
The word my infiltrates my senses, curling like tendrils of satisfaction in my chest.
“More,” I demand.
He spanks me harder, lighting my ass on fire in the most delicious way.
I turn to look over my shoulder. “Go ahead,” I tell him. My voice sounds froggy. Sultry.
Declan‘s eyes glow bright green. He shifts to kneel behind me, releasing my hair to hold my hip. The head of his cock nudges at my entrance, and he rubs it there, stroking over my clit, sending glorious shivers of pleasure up my spine.
“ Now , Declan!“ I’m getting desperate for satisfaction. I need him inside me. I need him to claim me. Wait… Claim me?
He pushes in, holding my hips steady.
I shudder in satisfaction. Yes. This is what I needed. So good.
As he moves inside me, something changes. A sense of belonging comes out for me. I belong with this man. I belong with this motley crew of misfits. I am damaged, but so are all of us.
My body responds to my realization, or maybe, my realization is a response to my body. I don’t know. All I know is that I’m flushed with heat, dizzy, and on the edge of Nirvana.
“That’s it, right there,” I encourage, about to come.
Declan slams in harder, grips my hips with the bruising force and bucks against me. I feel the head of his cock hitting deep inside me, branding me with his heat.
“Aw, feck, Fiona. I’m not going to last.” There’s anguish in his voice, along with the growl of his animal. I look over my shoulder again and see his canines gleaming, poised for a bite.
He wants to mark me.
And I want to be marked. Surprise of surprises!
He pumps in harder and faster, his loins slapping my tingling ass. “Fiona… Fiona!“ There’s alarm in his voice. He’s about to go over the edge. No–he’s about to mark me.
“Do it ,“ I snarl.
Declan slams in deep, and his teeth sink into my shoulder. I cry out in ecstasy, my own body erupting with pleasure. My muscles tighten and squeeze around his cock as my flesh receives his mark, his scent, this gift of all gifts.
A mate.
“Oh, feck, Fiona. I’m so sorry.” Declan extracts his teeth from my shoulder and licks the wound closed. “I didn’t mean to. I lost control. I’m sorry, lass. I should not have –“
“Declan,“ I cut through his apology. “Declan, it’s okay. I wanted it.” I roll over and look up at him. “Don’t think I’m not going to mark you right back,” I tell him, even though that’s not how it works. A female doesn’t leave her scent in a male, and raccoons don’t mark their mates that way, anyway.
But Declan’s face relaxes into a smile. “Are you sure? I’m pretty fecked up. Too fecked up to be a good mate.”
“So am I.” I twine my arms around his neck. “Wanna be fecked up together?”
“Hell, yes.”
Allison
“I need a shower,” I tell Laurie after Declan and Fiona disappear to their bedroom.
Yes, I’m considering it their bedroom already. I know Fiona well enough to be sure she’s all in with Declan. She wouldn't trust him, wouldn’t let him into her inner circle if he wasn’t her mate.
I’m also certain I’ve found mine.
“I-I’ll show you to the b-bathroom,” Laurie offers, personally escorting me down the hall.
Which works perfectly with my plan. When we get to the bathroom, I take his hand and pull him inside with me. “I don’t want to shower alone,” I tell him. It’s true, but not because I’m feeling needy. Or rather, I’m feeling needy in a purely sexual way.
I need to make sure Laurie knows that I am his.
I sense his fluster, but he doesn’t stutter or protest. He follows me in and closes the door, turning the lock behind him. His Adam’s apple bobs as he watches me peel off my clothing piece by piece.
When he doesn’t move to remove his, I do it for him, unbuttoning his oxford shirt and taking his glasses off his face.
He takes off his pants and boxers. He turns on the shower spray and reaches his hand in to feel the temperature.
“Have you ever had sex in the shower?” I ask.
“Oh.” He blinks his long lashes and shakes his head.
“Me, neither.“
He draws back the curtain and holds out a hand for me, helping me step into the tub and under the warm spray of water. It feels delicious.
“It’s my first time,” I tell him.
He steps in after me. “Your first time in the shower.”
“No, my first time–ever.“
Laurie goes still. At first, I think he’s going to get discombobulated, the way he does, but it’s the opposite. He suddenly seems very sure of himself. “The shower will be foreplay, then,” he tells me with total authority. “You should be on a bed for your first time.”
“OK, daddy,” I try out the kinky moniker to see how it feels on my lips.
I like it.
He must, too, because his eyes begin to gleam. He picks up the bar of soap and rolls it between his hands to suds them, then begins to soap me all over. His long, pale fingers are a beautiful contrast to my dark skin.
His touch is careful, reverent. Like I am a newly opened rose, and he’s fingering each petal. His hand slips over my belly and between my legs. He curls one finger there, sliding it over my slit, parting me.
I drop my head back, closing my eyes under the spray of water and surrendering the sweet sensation. The tremor of my legs. The quiver in my core. The heat emanating from every pore of my body.
Laurie cups the back of my neck and tilts my face up to his. His kiss is awkward at first, but then he seems to forget himself. His tongue thrusts into my mouth, his lips slant across mine, sliding and sucking.
He pushes me back against the cool tile, his long, thick member pressing against my belly. I wrap my hand around it and squeeze, tentatively at first, then gaining confidence when he groans with pleasure.
I stroke his cock as he works his fingers between my legs and kisses the hell out of me. I grow dizzy with need. I moan against his lips. The steam makes me light-headed. And then, suddenly, the water is off, I’m in his arms, and he’s carrying me out of the tub. He forgets to grab us towels, so I yank one from the towel rack as we pass by on our way to his bedroom.
He pushes the door open and carries me to a lovely bed that smells nothing like him.
“Is this new?” I ask. The bedding looks far more luxurious than I would think Laurie could afford.
“Yes. It must be a gift from Selene.” Laurie sets me down in the middle of the bed, parts my thighs and licks into me.
I arch, shocked by the pleasure. I was already on the edge, and it only takes a few swirls of his tongue before I come.
Laurie is relentless, though. He keeps teasing me with his tongue, working one, then two fingers inside me as he sucks and teases my clit. I orgasm again and again until I’m certain the walls will melt from the heat we’re producing.
Finally, Laurie gives me a break, offering me sips of water from a bottle near the bed. “I don’t have a condom,” he says.
I blink in confusion. Shifters don’t carry sexually transmitted diseases. Oh.
Oh.
Birth control.
I slide my palm over his chest, then yank his body down over mine. “Put an owlet in me,” I demand.
Feathers fly out in all directions. Laurie braces his weight on his arms and lowers his head for a ferocious kiss. As our tongues tangle, he eases into me.
I grip his ass and pull him in harder. If I’d known sex was this fun, I would’ve tried it long ago.
No, that’s a lie.
I’ve been waiting for Laurie. No one else would make it this perfect. This magical. This real.
I watch as Laurie’s eyes grow rounder, glowing bright. We’re moving together now. As one. Our bodies riding the same rhythm, climbing to the same summit. The pleasure builds and builds.
We peak at the same ecstatic moment.
I cry out with my release. Feathers fly everywhere–owl and dove both. Behind Laurie, I see the shimmer of his owl’s wings unfurled.
I sense the holographic display of my own wings spread beneath me on the bed.
Laurie shouts. His lips crash down on mine, and he rides out the orgasm until both of us are slowly moving together, our breaths mingling, our hearts open wide.
A burning sensation between my eyebrows tells me the mating is complete. I’m forever marked by an owl feather.
Laurie rolls us to our sides, facing each other. He touches the curve of my cheek with his fingertips. “You’re mine,” he says with wonder.
I smile at him. “Mates. Forever.”
“I thought I was too broken to mate.”
“Well,” I say, tracing his expressive eyebrows. “Sometimes you find someone with broken pieces that match yours.”
“Like a puzzle,” he muses.
“No, we’re whole on our own. But sometimes we forget that. And it takes someone to see it and remind us.”
“You are whole. And beautiful,” he tells me. “I can’t believe you want to be mine.”
“I am yours.” I touch the place between my brows that proves it.
He leans up on an elbow. “But do you want to be?”
Ridiculous owl. “Of course I want to be. Life is too short not to be with the one you love.”