15. Italian, With Spice
Italian, With Spice
Jake is standing on my doorstep, holding wine and flowers and looking gorgeous with his golden-brown hair falling over his forehead.
Although he has retinal and bio-lock access, he pressed the alarm.
I drink him in, dressed in his usual t-shirt and jeans that do nothing to hide his muscled body. He looks hesitant and unsure as he waits, but also as if he wants to devour me.
At my smile, he lifts me against him, holding both flowers and wine in one hand. His mouth is hot and insistent as he kicks the door shut behind him.
In seconds, my arms and legs were wrapped around him as he blindly places the flowers and wine on the hallway table before backing me against a wall.
This part has never been a problem for us.
Every couple has their ups and downs. I guess I took it for granted that until now, arguments over movies and pizza, eating out or staying in, have been the extent of ours.
His lips are insistent as his tongue wraps around mine.
The scrape of his canines sends lightning zigzagging through my veins.
I love being pinned by him, of feeling small against his tall, muscled frame.
Groaning into his mouth, my hands in his hair hold him in place as he growls with approval.
He’s so hard against me, I want to drown in him.
He pulls away, his hands under my ass, eyes going feral and predatory in the way I love, sending heat shooting down my spine right to my core.
Jake scents the air. ‘Is that pasta I smell?’
‘Marinara sauce,’ I choke out, trying to pull his mouth back to me. I want his teeth and tongue and lips against mine. I’m throbbing with the need to have him inside me.
Food can wait. Talking can wait. Maybe I’m trying to delay discussing how he acted at Vincent Rodriguez’s house. Maybe I don’t want him to ask me how I feel about Micah when I don’t know myself. Maybe I’m a coward.
Jake smirks at me, stepping back from the wall as I slide down his hard body.
‘Are you hungry?’ I know I sound incredulous.
How can he think about food when we haven’t been alone for days?
I want him to take me against this wall, right now.
I want to rip his t-shirt off and drag my hands over every inch of hard muscle, every plane of his body.
I want to feel him stretch me unbearably until I come around his cock. And he wants pasta.
‘Oh, I’m hungry,’ his smile widens, hazel eyes glowing, green ringed with molten amber. ‘But food can wait.’
‘Thank God,’ I say, my voice shaking with need. I already know it won’t take much to tip me over the edge.
‘Wall or bed?’ The primal need in his voice matches my own, a growl against the skin of my neck. He leans forward and runs his sharp canines along my throat as I grip his t-shirt and shudder.
‘Bed,’ I manage to get out. We should do this right. At least the second time, after this desperate need is sated, we can go slower.
He lifts me again easily, using his supernatural speed to have me laid out on my bed in between breaths. Perks of dating a Werewolf.
‘Clothes off. Now.’ I almost choke out the words, desperate to watch him strip, exposing every glorious inch of his body just for me. But my own clothing is suddenly too tight, chafing at my sensitized skin.
Before I can get my t-shirt over my head, he’s leaning over me with a purely predatory gleam. With a snap, my bra is in pieces, then he pulls my jeans and thong off in one move.
This time, he doesn’t give me a chance to protest before he’s dragging me down the bed, kneeling on the floor, and hooking my legs over his shoulders.
‘Eyes on me.’ It’s a growl, and my body lights up like the Fourth of July as he bends his head, keeping his gaze pinned to mine.
The feral look in his eyes, the hint of dangerous predator buried beneath his skin, almost sends me straight over the cliff as much as his wicked mouth and tongue do.
He doesn’t let up until my thighs are shaking around his head, and I can’t stand any more. Then I’m being flipped onto my stomach, hips in the air, head down as he sheaths himself to the hilt inside me. For a moment, I can’t breathe at the stretch and burn of him as he lets me adjust.
‘Jake.’ One word, a whimper of need as I pulse around him, tremors of my climax still echoing through me.
It’s hard and fast, a relentless rhythm as he pounds into me over and over, spiraling me higher.
Far too soon, I’m screaming his name as release barrels through me again, the edges of my vision going black.
Jake raises my hips higher, holding me in place as he spills into me, his primal growl echoing through the house.
I lay my head on his chest as he holds me against him, our heartbeats slowing, breathing evening out.
‘I am partial to the wall. But there are benefits to a bed.’ I hook my leg over his and stretch against him.
He laughs and tips my face up so he can kiss me. He looks younger, lighter. I feel a release of the pressure and tension we’ve both been feeling these past few days.
‘I missed you.’ I raise myself onto my elbow to stare down at him. Every part of his body makes my mouth dry out, and my thoughts scatter. I run my hand over his chest, reveling in his strength and smooth, hard muscle.
‘If you keep doing that, my beautiful Eve, we’ll never get to eat.’ He looks content as he watches me, one arm casually slung behind his head.
‘Oh fuck, my sauce,’ I sit up, pushing my hair off my face.
‘If it’s ruined, we’ll just get pizza.’ It’s a low drawl, but he pulls himself up beside me, stretching lazily. I watch his muscles ripple with appreciation.
‘Yes, but I also don’t want my house to burn down.’ I scramble off the bed, grab his t-shirt, and throw it on.
‘I guess that’s a no to round two.’ His laughter follows me down the stairs as I rush through my living area into the kitchen.
Jake is behind me in seconds, wearing low-slung track pants he keeps here that do amazing things for his legs and keep his abs on display.
I stir the sauce and take it off the heat while I boil water and throw some pasta into a pot. Jake snags a bag of salad from the fridge and tips it into a bowl.
‘Tim and I went to see Evan’s mom this afternoon,’ I tell him, savoring the flavor of the wine he’s poured. We’re sitting at my breakfast bar, steaming, fragrant plates in front of us.
Jake has his mouth full of pasta and sauce as I twirl some around my fork and lift it. There isn’t much I can cook, but my marinara sauce is pretty damn good.
‘Why did you do that? I told you I took care of it.’ He looks at me as if I’ve done something wrong, and I have no idea why. I feel off-balance with him again.
‘Because it’s my job,’ I say evenly, annoyance warring with confusion at his reaction. ‘We had to ask her some questions and search his room.’
‘I am the Alpha, and he is part of my Pack.’ Jake’s face is stubbornly set, food forgotten.
My fork clatters onto my plate. He hasn’t bothered to ask me if we found anything.
‘We found a link between Evan and Jason. Illegal supps,’ I tell him, my stomach hollowing out. So much for sex making every right between us. He’s acting as if I’ve stepped in his territory. As if I’ve undermined his authority.
Anger ripples across his face. I know him well enough to understand that he thinks it reflects badly on him. On his control over his subordinates. On the Pack.
‘It’s a lead to follow.’ I refuse to placate him. He’s being ridiculous. Incredulity and outright anger are warring for first place as I stare him down. Clench my fists, I straighten my spine.
‘You should leave it to me. It’s too dangerous.’ I can see anger mixed with fear simmering in his hazel eyes.
He can’t be serious. What does he think my job is?
‘Right. And I should do what? Sit on my ass and wait for you to catch a rogue Vampire serial killer? How do you plan to do that?’ I can’t help the sarcasm that loads my voice. I’m sure my eyes are sparking emerald fire at him. My appetite is a distant memory.
‘It’s safer if you let me search.’ I can hear him making an effort to sound reasonable as he lifts his hand toward where I’m turned to face him on my bar stool.
‘I’m not doing it on my own,’ I snap, incredulous, leaning away from him. This is not at all how I expected my evening to go.
‘And I suppose you think Micah would do a better job than me?’ Jake says, deadly soft. His face is a tight mask, eyes glowing with preternatural light.
‘Micah is none of your damn business. But yes, because he’s a Vampire!’ I’m almost yelling now, and I hate it. But what the actual fuck?
‘I don’t want you anywhere near that bloodsucker,’ Jake growls, leaning toward me, his eyes darkening dangerously, going full-on Wolf.
And then his claws punch out into my countertop for the second time in a week.
He tips back his head and howls as if he can’t stop himself, and my heart skips a beat. Raw energy is pouring off him in waves.
I would be afraid, but I am far too angry. He’s undermining my job, my life. And he’s jealous? I haven’t done anything to encourage Micah. I don’t even know how he feels about me.
‘I got you off a murder charge,’ I say calmly, coldly, reigning in my anger. But I’m literally shaking. ‘Me. Because I am a detective. And I’m damn good at my job.’
He looks as if I punched him, and his head snaps back as if from a physical blow. I don’t understand why he’s so upset with me over this.
I open my mouth, but I have no words. I thought we would be calmly discussing the investigation. Instead, I think my boyfriend is about to lose control of his Werewolf side.
Jake throws himself out of his chair and backs away, claws out, canines lengthening. I can see the struggle on his face, in his tightly held frame. He’s shaking with raw, primal, animal instinct. He howls again, and his face ripples, chest heaving, his t-shirt straining against the muscles there.
I have never seen my boyfriend Change, and I know he doesn’t want me to see it happen.
For me to see him lose control, to become the part of himself he’s struggled to come to terms with.
Emotions and instincts are much harder to control in Wolf form.
Most Weres stay far away from humans when they Turn.
But apart from on a full moon, it’s always a choice.
Only newly Turned Weres have trouble controlling their baser instincts at other times.
Jake is an Alpha. His animal nature is always tightly reined in.
But for the first time tonight, I’m afraid.
Not that he will hurt me, but for what this means.
I can’t believe this is all about Micah.
Serial killers are murdering in our city, and instead of working together, he’s become fixated on my past relationship with a Vampire.
I slowly slide off my chair and walk toward him, needing to de-escalate the situation.
Jake is staring at the ceiling, eyes wild, breathing erratically as I step in front of him.
He looks down at me, and his Wolf eyes are unfocused as he growls again, low and predatory. It shivers down my spine as I force myself to stand my ground.
‘Jake. If you need to Turn, I can handle it,’ I say, forcing him to focus on my words and face.
He shakes his head. I place my hand on his chest slowly, feeling his heart beating out-of-control. He’s so hot, my fingers are almost scalded.
‘Tell me,’ he says, his voice almost unrecognizable as his human and Lycanthrope natures war for control. ‘Tell me you won’t see him again.’
‘This is a police investigation. There is a serial killer- two serial killers- out there. And you’re telling me not to use every resource available, because why?’ My eyes flicker between his, searching for answers.
His jaw has shifted, lengthened, limbs beginning to elongate. Pain is etched across his face, his breathing erratic from between clenched teeth.
I am absolutely not going to make him feel better about this. I refuse to bow to his ridiculous demands, to some throw-back Alpha dominance bullshit. There is far more at stake than his wounded ego. Besides, I’ve done nothing wrong.
‘Why did you have to go to him?’ His voice almost breaks, and I see vulnerability in his glowing hazel eyes as he wrestles for control of himself.
He means the money I borrowed for his bail. I’ve wounded his pride twice over. Going to a Vamp for help, and one whom I had feelings for.
Why did I go to Micah after seven years? I knew I would clear Jake of murder. He could have stayed in jail for a few more days.
I didn’t know how long it would take. The Pack needed him. I needed him.
All these things I told myself. And they’re true. But were they also excuses? I keep pushing down the feelings of unfinished business, the lack of closure between Micah and me. Has it always been there, waiting in the wings to take center stage again?
What a tangled web we weave…but who am I really deceiving?
My eyes are clouded, confused; my thoughts like hummingbirds flitting all over the place. Jake notices it through the haze of his internal wrestle, and I think I see devastation in his eyes that are now more Wolf than human.
‘Jake, I love you.’ I shake myself free of my internal dialogue. ‘There is nothing between Micah and me.’
Jake pushes me out of his way, and primal fear shoots through me as he towers over me, balanced on a knife-edge between human and Werewolf.
‘I wish I could believe you,’ his voice is like gravel, each word an effort to get past his Werewolf jaw.
Without warning, bones crack, his t-shirt splitting open as his back arches. Pain marks every line of his body. His hands claw the air as he bends backward, catching my face as I stumble out of the way.
Horror fills his eyes, and then he’s moving so fast he’s a blur. My front door slams open so hard the glass almost shatters.
A howl splits the night, and there’s nothing human in the sound. I sink to the floor, blood trickling down my cheek. Jake has his demons to face, and I have mine.