Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
The second he locked the door behind us, Ronan was on me, and I was on him, and damn, if it wasn’t exactly what we both needed.
My back hit the wall of the stairwell leading up to his apartment. He’d already stripped off his shirt, my jeans and panties, and was kicking off his own jeans.
He was on me before we hit the landing, and I stripped off my top and bra as he thrust into me, wanting nothing between us, wanting to feel every heated inch of his skin against mine.
The first time was fast.
The second time, we almost made it to the bed.
The third time was late into the night, after we’d both dozed a while.
I awakened to him telling me he loved me, that he loved us, that he’d explain everything tomorrow and to please, please trust him, because I was his world, the guiding light at the end of the dark tunnel that was his life, and he needed me so much he could barely breathe when we were apart.
I rolled into his embrace and told him he was everything, my world and universe and whatever was bigger than a universe, with hands and lips and hips. Gentle rocks, soft cries, and heat.
So much heat.
The next morning, I showered in his spa bathroom then met him at the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from the living area where a wall of floor-to-ceiling, tinted windows showed a view of the street.
They were spelled not to reveal the inside from the outside for security purposes, a spell the old La Paloma coven had performed, and Margaux and Bronwyn had renewed at Ronan’s request after the original coven fell apart.
Most of Ronan’s apartment was painted in calming shades of gray, from charcoal to dove, which made a soothing backdrop for the vibrancy of the art he hung on walls and set on tables and in bookshelves.
I loved the look, and I intended to bring some of it into the house at Siete Saguaros so he felt like it was his place, too.
“Did you use one of the new lavender shower steamers?” he asked as he poured me a mug of coffee. “A customer of mine makes them.”
“Yes, and I loved it.” I leaned over the counter to kiss him before taking the mug. “I really need the name of your contractor. Someday, when I’m independently wealthy, I’m going to hire them to make my bathroom look like yours.”
He grinned. “We can talk about that.”
“I need that shower, Ronan. That tub, too. Also, the gas fireplace. I know you prefer wood, but I’m kind of loving the complete lack of mess.” I stirred cream into my coffee. “The contractor wasn’t Beavis Green, was it? I don’t think I could hire that guy.”
“You know his name is actually Brock Greer, right?” Ronan brought his mug around the bar and sat on the stool next to me.
“Whatever. He didn’t put in your bathroom, did he?”
“No. I made it a point not to hire anyone from the pack. Not for my private rooms. I used a human firm here in town. I’ll get you their card once you’ve achieved independent wealth.” He cocked a brow at me. “Or you could let me pay for it.”
“Nope.”
“As a gift?”
“Nope.”
“A birthday-Christmas-anniversary gift?” He shot me one of those grins I loved to kiss off his face.
“Anniversary? We don’t have one of those, do we?” I thought it over. “I guess we could honor the first night I made you whimper when I licked a slow trail from your throat down to the tip of your—”
His mouth covered mine. He ended the long, delicious kiss with, “If you start talking like that, I’m going to be forced to throw you over my shoulder, take you back to bed, and see if I can’t make you whimper. Again. And then we won’t have time to talk.”
I couldn’t keep myself from smiling. “I’m so tempted. But I do have to work this morning. Sucks to be responsible.”
We both laughed a little. It wasn’t the easy kind we were used to, but it was nice. He settled onto his seat. “Speaking of work, I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you with Floyd’s office.”
“You probably thought I was just going to peek in the files, not take the place apart. Honestly, even I didn’t know I was going to go this far. Mason, either. He stuck around until Sunday morning but hasn’t been back since.”
“You’ve been working there without pack protection?” Ronan set his mug on the counter with a snap and leapt to his feet.
“It’s okay. Mason said he had someone watching.” I waited until his eyes went back to normal. “Fennel was there, too. Also, not sure you noticed, but I can kind of take care of myself. Nothing bad has happened since the SUV tried to run the boys and me off the road.”
“What?” He punctuated the words with a growl.
I told him about it.
“Where the hell was Hartman?”
“Home. Turns out, the wolf thought he was supposed to watch the park, not me. It wasn’t malicious or … Uh, are you okay? I don’t like the look of that vein in your forehead. Maybe we should talk about this later when your wolf isn’t so close to the surface.”
“Fine.” He cursed, rolled his shoulders back, did some slow breathing. “You could tell my wolf was trying to take over?”
“Your eyes didn’t glow and you didn’t turn furry, but I think most people—most paranormals, anyway—would be able to tell from your voice that you weren’t yourself.”
“Or maybe only you could because you’re Alpha.”
I doubted it. I could pick up on a wolf close to shifting and sometimes I could feel strong emotions, the way I had after coming out of the soil two months ago, but the weird ESP thing they did just baffled me. Neither did I have the ability to discern speech from emotions the way they did.
“I’ll never truly be Alpha, Ronan. I’m not a wolf.”
“But you are.” He stared into my eyes, his own ringed with gold, and sadness sank into me like a wintry chill. “You’re Alpha.”
“And you hate that.” My voice trembled slightly, revealing the emotion I was trying to keep hidden.
“Is that why you didn’t want to be around me?
Why you keep making nasty little remarks like the one in Floyd’s office?
What was it you said? Easy to forget how sensitive wolf noses can be when you aren’t one. ”
“No.” He blinked, jerked back. “I didn’t intend—” He stopped himself, ran a hand through his hair. “It’s not what you think.”
“What I think is your wolf is having trouble with me being in charge,” I said then instantly shook my head. “No, that’s me trying not to be confrontational. It’s not your wolf that’s having the trouble, it’s you.”
A muscle pulsed in his cheek. “You act as if we’re two separate entities. Can you cordon off your witch from the rest of you? Your demon?”
I bit back an angry retort. He didn’t appear to be trying to insult me, and maybe if I hadn’t been hypersensitive to the demon side of me, I wouldn’t have taken it that way.
“No,” I replied tightly.
“Same with me. I use separate words to describe my wolf, but he is me and I am him. So, yes, we’re having a little trouble adjusting to you being Alpha.
I’d been planning how this would go for a long time,” he said, his voice softening.
“I’d slowly gather allies, make sure Rory was across the country where she’d be safe, and then I’d make my move. ”
“And I messed that up.” I slid off my stool so I could pace a little, breathe. His frustration was sucking all the air out of the room.
“I wouldn’t change it.” He turned on the stool, staring into my eyes as if willing me to understand. “If you hadn’t killed Floyd that night, he’d have killed you—or Rory, or someone else. You did everything right.”
“But your wolf…”
“He’s—we’re—pissed off about it, yeah. And also so damn proud of you.” His eyes glossed over and his breath caught. “We’re in love with you, Betty, but that doesn’t make it any less—”
“Shitty,” I said.
“Complicated, and yes, shitty. I’ve been an ass. Dealing with this badly. Making you feel bad for doing the right thing. I was wrong.”
“As you said, it’s complicated.”
“But it doesn’t excuse my behavior. I’ve been a jackass not to see how I was making the most important person in my life feel.” He slid off the stool and opened his arms. “I’m sorry.”
With zero hesitation, I walked straight into them, waited for them to close around me, and rested my cheek on his chest. “Good thing you’re a very lovable jackass, or you’d be in trouble.”
“What a compliment.” Laughter rumbled in his chest. “What I’m feeling … it’s not you, Betty. Not one bit of this is your fault.”
“I know. But it also is.”
He sighed, kissed the top of my head. Held me. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“You already apologized. Once was enough.”
When both his frustration and our coffee had cooled down, I leaned back in his arms and smiled up at him. I had an idea.
“That’s the face you make when you’re calculating.” He brushed his lips over my forehead. “Go ahead and lay it on me, Lennox. What’s the scheme?”
“It’s not a scheme.”
One auburn brow shot up. “Really.”
“It’s not even a bad idea, I promise. I’ve simply been thinking that it might benefit you to work off some of that wolfish vexation with physical activity.”
“Sounds good, but you said you had to be somewhere this morning.”
“I’m not talking about sex.” I thought that over. “Although, I reserve the right to revisit the subject later on. This is a different sort of physical activity.”
“Betty Lennox, are you trying to trick me into doing hard labor at the Siete Saguaros again? I know you’ve been wanting to rake up the gravel in the parking lot and fill in the potholes. I don’t mind. Shouldn’t take me more than a day to knock it out.”
“That’s not what I was talking about, but again, I reserve the right to revisit the subject later on.” I smiled sweetly up at him. “What I have planned is even more fun than gravel raking.”
“Oh no. What is it?”
“How’d you like to break some stuff? There are sledgehammers involved, if that sweetens the deal.”
He leaned close, clearly weighing his options, a lock of his auburn hair brushing my forehead as his gaze lingered on my lips. “Actually, it does. I’m in.”
We finished our coffee, cleaned the kitchen, and picked up breakfast burritos before heading to Pallás Place for Demolition Day.