4. Reese
“ T hanks for your help, Reese.” Tyler gestures to the new glass panel I spent the past few hours installing. The sun beats through the glass, creating a tepid state of humidity in the spacious greenhouse.
We’ve spent the past six months repairing and recovering from that motherfucker, Chris’, attack. Wren’s ex-boyfriend turned out to be an obsessive stalker who followed her here. He vandalized our greenhouse and burned our crops in hopes of winning Wren back.
Not sure what kind of backward logic that is, but Kiernan and I took care of him.
We didn’t kill him, we just scared him a little bit.
I chuckle to myself, remembering how the asshole pissed himself at the sight of two full-grown grizzly bears, spittle flying from our canines as we roared in his face.
Pushing through the greenhouse front door, I’m so lost in thought that I don’t notice the wisp of a woman until it’s too late.
Her slim, petite body bounces off my muscular chest, her eyes pinching shut on impact. Light-blonde hair swirls around us as she goes flying backward.
Without thinking, my hands clasp around her waist, steadying her. Lightning zings up my arms at the contact.
What the fuck?
Then it hits me, her rich floral scent. The same scent I smelled this morning while enjoying my coffee. Fresh gardenia hangs in my lungs as I breathe her in.
Mine.
A whine in my head alerts me to my grizzly bear’s presence. The fucker’s been dormant for a while, sleeping most of the time unless I pull him out for a run. Suddenly, he’s on his feet, pacing as this woman’s earthy scent hits my nose.
This woman is my mate.
“I’m so sorry,” she squeaks, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. She peers up at me with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. The brilliant color nearly stopping my heart. Although, something about the color is vaguely familiar, itching at the back of my mind, but I can’t place it.
She’s short, the top of her head barely reaching my chest. I’m a big motherfucker, at six-foot-seven, built like a brick-house—or so I’ve been told all my life.
Her neck cranes as she looks up at me, mischief sparkling in those blue eyes.
I muster my best smile, but the expression is foreign on my face. The muscles around my mouth, not used to tipping up in that position, the skin stretches taut with disuse. Preferring to keep mostly to myself, even within my own pack, I guess my smile is out of practice.
“Didn’t see you there, Angel,” I grunt, voice rougher than I intended. The nickname rolls off my tongue before I can stop it.
A slight shiver rushes down her spine, making me realize I still have her tiny waist gripped in my massive mitts. The heat of her body spreads up my arms, causing my heart to pump faster.
Blinking rapidly, her eyes flit around my face before her delicate brows furrow. Then they shoot up on her forehead at the same time her jaw drops open. Plump lips pursing into a perfect O.
“Ho-ly shit! You’re Reese Moore,” she squeals.
Aw, fuck.
My face shutters into a blank expression. I hate when I’m recognized for my past. I especially hate that my mate quite possibly already knows my tainted history.
“Reese Moore, as in TekNet Reese Moore,” she says, clapping her hands and bouncing on her toes.
Releasing her waist, I take a step back, immediately missing the warmth of her body next to mine, the softness of her pale flesh under my fingertips.
My bear whines again, urging me to touch our mate. Not now, I bark in my mind.
“You’re one of the most famous tech gurus, or were until you disappeared eight years ago,” she rambles on, like I don’t know my own damn life story.
Twirling the end of her long, braided hair around her slender fingers, she stares up at me, eyes twinkling, waiting for me to speak.
“Yes,” I huff, scrubbing a hand down my face. The vein in my forehead begins to throb. So my mate is a fucking fangirl .
It dawns on me then that I’ve never seen this girl before. And Cypress Valley is kind of off the beaten path; we don’t get random visitors.
“Who the fuck are you?” I grit out.
“Okay, rude,” she says, taking a step away from me, crossing her arms over her chest. I can’t help but notice the way the movement pushes her small tits up higher, the creamy swells straining the neckline of her cropped tank top. My mouth waters and my cock twitches in my jeans.
“Hey, Reese!” Wren’s sweet voice comes from behind me. “Have you seen Sydney? She was—”
“Hey, sis.” The woman in front of me shoots a glare my way before waving pleasantly at Wren.
“There you are!” Wren comes to stand next to the mystery woman, hooking their arms together. Twin sets of blue eyes stare up at me.
Fuck! The woman in front of me is none other than Sydney Fields, my friend’s little sister—
And my mate.
“Reese.” Wren’s voice interrupts my spiraling thoughts. “This is my little sister, Sydney. She’s here for the next month.”
Wren gives me a sunny smile, totally oblivious to the fact that her sister is mine. Not yours. Bile builds in my throat.
She can’t be yours. She’s too young and full of life to deal with your grumpy ass.
“Did you know Reese is famous?” Sydney chimes in. I groan under my breath. “He invented, like, the biggest social media platform ever.” She turns to face me. “What the heck are you doing here, anyway?” Those liquid blue eyes trail up and down my body, heat licking at my skin.
Fuck me. Swallowing thickly, I shrug. “I was living in peace and quiet.”
“Wait, Reese, you’re famous?” Wren cuts in, ignoring my rudeness and trying to salvage the conversation. I, on the other hand, wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole, putting me out of my misery.
“Seems so,” I grunt, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin. “Listen, ladies, I’m late.” The lie tumbles out of me, spurred on by my need to get the fuck out of this situation. Not waiting for a response, I brush past them, all but jogging up the road to my cabin.
“ I ’m so fucked,” I groan into my empty cabin, kicking the door shut with my boot. My tongue feels too big for my mouth, like I might choke on the damn thing.
This pipsqueak of a woman is my mate? Her floral scent invaded my nostrils as she peppered me with questions about my past.
Her presence alone riled my bear like I haven’t experienced in years. The bastard is still worked up, growling and pacing, making my body ripple with pent up energy. My skin is too small for my tense muscles, like it might split in two at any second. I’m primed to explode.
To my knowledge, no one here knows about my ties to TekNet. Does she know why I was forced to resign from my position as CEO? How I lived in the wilderness for years after running from my old life?
I thought I could leave my past behind and start fresh in Cypress Valley. Sydney Fields just opened a can of worms that I’m not sure I have the strength to face.
A rumble vibrates through my body; my bear groans at the thought of not being with our mate.
She smells so good.
Gardenias . Spicy and zesty.
But she can’t be mine. She’s way too young and innocent for my jaded ass. Life hasn’t been kind to me. I don’t need to chain this angel here with me.
Balling my hands into fists, the heat of her body still radiates from my skin. Bounding up the stairs two at a time, I head to my bedroom. I rip my shirt off, tossing it on the bed.
Leaving a trail of clothing in my wake, I head for the shower, cranking the heat to full blast, not caring if the water scalds me to the point of pain.
I wanted so badly to throw her over my shoulder and bring her back to my cabin. Lock her in my bedroom and cement our bond. But that was before I knew who she was .
Stepping into the shower, the scalding water beats down over my body, doing nothing to relieve the tension in my muscles. My bear is already too worked up; he whimpers and whines, begging me to touch her, taste her, claim her.
Mine.
“No, you idiot. She’s not ours,” I reprimand, slamming my fists against the slick tiled walls of the shower, splinters forming around my balled up hands.
She’s Wren’s sister. Wren’s twenty-three-year-old sister. Shit, at thirty-five, I’m closer to forty than I am to her age. We’re at different stages in our lives.
She’s off limits.
My bear growls, his disagreement sending tremors surging through my body.
Plus, you heard her. She’s only here for a month. She’ll be gone in no time. I just have to resist the pull of her sweet scent and ethereal beauty until she leaves.
Great .
My cock clearly doesn’t get the message. It thickens between my thighs, pulling a groan from deep in my chest as the ache grows. Grazing my hand down the shaft, a shudder rolls through me.
“Yes,” I pant.
Visions of snowy-white hair and pale-blue eyes swim through my head. Fisting my knot, I squeeze until spots dance on my closed lids.
“Sydney,” I moan, steam from the shower swirling around me.
In my mind, my mate lowers to her knees, mischievous eyes peer up at me. Water droplets cling to her dark-blonde lashes. Soaked hair sticks to her heaving chest, dusty pink nipples peeking through the strands, begging to be touched. Licked. Sucked.
Wrapping one hand around my cock, I stroke myself languidly, not ready for the fantasy to end.
Sydney wraps both hands around my leaking cock, fingers barely meeting around my girth. “Yes, Angel.” The pet name slips out, but she looks like a fallen angel. Sleek white-blonde hair, pale skin, bright-blue eyes. Fuck, I bet she’s a hellion, though.
My free hand alternates between squeezing and twisting around my knot and tugging at my heavy sack.
Sydney leans forward, running the flat of her tongue across the head of my cock, lapping up the precome as it leaks from my slit.
“That’s it, Angel. Taste me.” My rough voice bounces off the tile walls, echoing around me.
Stroking faster, I pretend it’s her small, soft hands on me, not my callused ones.
Pleasure builds at the base of my spine, balls drawing tight to my body.
“Angel, I’m close. Don’t stop.” Desperation sings in my voice, and I let myself be overtaken by the fantasy.
Pinching my eyes shut, my hand flies up and down my cock, hips thrusting wildly. One last squeeze of my knot and I’m done for. A menacing roar ricochets off the shower walls as ropes of come splatter the gray tiles. I slowly stroke my softening shaft until the last drop of orgasm fades, washing down the drain.
Bracing my hand on the wall, I catch my breath. “Fuck, that can’t happen again,” I reprimand myself.
It’s only a month, just steer clear of Sydney and let her get back to her life. She doesn’t need you dragging her down.