Bewitch The Dark - Racing The Moon Part 3

In familiar years, she was yet young, at an actual mortal twenty-five years. Most familiars didn't master bridging until their second lifetime-yes, they had nine.

It wasn't as if she had opportunity to practice. Surely if she and a partner took things slow, allowing her to focus and get a handle on the ineffable force that opened her to demons, she might achieve control."I'm destined to die a lonely old kitty cat. At least in this lifetime."

Sighing, she perked her ears to listen. Back by the truck, Dean paced again. She could feel his urgency, the agonizing restraint of his desire, float through the air on a tangible wave of sensual musk.

Closing her eyes, she willed the rain to stop, to release him from the anxiety, and her from the awful dilemma she didn't want to face.

Was she scared of ending up with a fully s.h.i.+fted werewolf? Yes. A lot. She didn't want to get tossed around like a stuffed animal and likely mauled. Scribble that one under least preferable ways to die.

"I could give it a try." The voice sounded softly at her side.

Dean stood just behind her. The heat of his presence tickled down Sunday's spine, leaving an indelible tattoo in its wake. Yes, mark me. Make me yours as no other has.

"I could make a run for town. It's the wolf that doesn't do rain. But in this were-form, I can."

Were was the man. Wolf meant the animal that walked on four legs. And werewolf? Man and wolf combined.

"And what would you do in town? Molest some innocent woman?"

"I don't harm humans, Sunday."

"I didn't mean to imply you would. Sorry." But hearing him say it eased a wonder she hadn't known she had. "I just, well, I suppose it's better that you stay here, blue b.a.l.l.s or not, than risk the werewolf stalking Steele."

"That had occurred to me. I won't kill 'em, but I will freak them all out. And it's getting so close to midnight, I'd never have time to romance a woman into my arms."

"Romance? Is that what you're trying with me?"

"Hey, give a guy a little credit, the booty call is out of this area code tonight."

"Booty-so that's all I am to you?"

"I shouldn't have put it that way. h.e.l.l, Sunday, I don't claim to be a smooth operator. And I don't have roses or chocolates-"

"I don't need material things to be romanced. Just honesty. You've been very honest with me. I appreciate that."

"You have, too. Probably haven't been too many times you've wanted to reveal your condition to a potential lover. So...you can't control it?"

She nodded and rubbed her arms. "It's not a condition. It's simply who I am."

"I'm not afraid of demons."

Sunday smirked and cast him a look over her shoulder. "That desperate for s.e.x, eh?"

He lifted his shoulders and sighed.

"So what's it like for you with other guys? I mean, seems like your dating life-"

"Sucks the big one. Trust me, men don't come looking for another date after they've seen me climax.""Maybe it's not mortals you should be dating in the first place." He touched her back, but didn't do any more than that. Bless him.

She was strung high enough as it was.

"The taste of you is in my mouth. I need more."

"I want you, too, Dean. It's just not feasible. Don't take this personally, okay?"

"I'll try not to. Why don't you step over here and let me hold you? Want me to fish out your s.h.i.+rt for you?"

"I'm fine. I've a spare s.h.i.+rt in the office."

A step put her back against his chest. The man was hard and soft at the same time. Muscles of stone yet flesh of suede. Warm arms wrapped under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and held her possessively.

Could she mark him across the chest with the invisible tattoo he'd p.r.i.c.ked down her spine? Yes, let everyone know he was hers.

For now. A stranger stranded in her heart.

Sunday snuggled her cheek against his shoulder. This quiet contact felt good. And for the moment, unthreatening. "So your truck.

It's a cla.s.sic. You take good care of her, I can tell."

"The outside. But I obviously don't know what the h.e.l.l I'm doing when it comes to the mechanical stuff."

"You must have been racing the moon to get home, eh?"

"You know it. The werewolf is best only released on its own territory."

"You speak of that part of yourself as if it's another ent.i.ty."

"I don't remember what's gone on after I've been the werewolf. Makes it difficult to feel as if it's a part of me. Do you feel like the cat is you?"

"Always. Unlike you, I do remember while in cat shape. I don't s.h.i.+ft often though. I enjoy this human flesh too much."

"It is some fine flesh. Soft and smelling like gingerbread."

"Too bad wolves don't get along with felines."

"Yeah." He rested his chin on her shoulder. "Or so they say."

"You with a pack?"

"Nope. There's only one left in Minnesota, and Severo-an old werewolf with control issues-keeps a tight rein on that pack. I prefer freedom and quiet, and don't get into pack politics."

"Must be lonely though. I spend a lot of time by myself, and...sometimes I just want to belong, you know?"

"Understand completely. It's not easy being what we are in this world of humans. Rarely do we find someone who can relate to the utter separation from the majority. I know what it's like to be different."

Sunday canted her head back across his broad shoulder. "Yeah, different."

She'd always been the different one. The one humans stepped a wide path around, even not knowing what she was, but somehow sensing it. She didn't mind being a familiar-she'd known nothing else-but sometimes she wanted to be accepted for what she was, and not have to hide.Dean's hands moved to caress her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and she allowed the easy, lingering strokes. It felt terrific to be touched by a man- one who was not afraid of her danger.

A man who presented his own, equal danger.

Maybe the risk would be worth it for the earth-shattering s.e.x she knew they could have. Even now, as he ma.s.saged her nipples, her s.e.x grew hot and moist. She squeezed her thighs together, sending a s.h.i.+mmer of sensation through her system.

Dean's hot tongue traced the side of her neck, gliding along the jugular. Now, vampires she did not tolerate, and she would quickly stake a s.e.xy night brooder, with little regret.

"You thinking about vampires?" he asked, his mouth still at her neck.

She chuckled. "Hate 'em."

"Me, too. Glad to know we share the same priorities." He nipped at her vein. Hugging her, he lifted her feet from the ground briefly. "d.a.m.n, I can't not touch you."

She turned and pressed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s just under his stone-hard pectorals. The sound of his sucked-in breath bolstered her confidence. They could do this. She wasn't about to let the opportunity slip through her fingers. "Maybe foreplay would be enough?"

"I don't think so."

"Then what if I get you off? That would work."

"And deny your own climax? Uh-uh, no way. This man doesn't work that way. I want you shuddering and moaning, Sunday, nothing less."

"But it's the only way."

"Actually..." He stepped back, releasing her hand and the dimples at the same time. "I have an idea."

Sunday flinched at the sound of the shotgun chambering a bullet into the barrel. Dean stood proudly, holding the sawed-off he'd retrieved from the cab of his truck.

"You really do suck in the romance department. Is that supposed to be s.e.xy?" she wondered aloud.

"h.e.l.l, no. It's for killing demons."

"A rifle will only p.i.s.s most demons off."

"Yeah, but it'll blow off body parts long enough for you to get your act together and reverse the bridging. Yes?"

He was on the right path. She needed time in order to focus and reverse the bridging-and a witch to control the demon. She'd never tried it on her own. But maybe it would work. Anything was possible.

The man certainly did want s.e.x. And so did she.

She crooked a finger at him, and he followed her silent command to approach. Dean's mouth fit over her breast and he lifted her with one hand. Wrapping her legs around his back, she let loose a s.h.i.+very murmur as he carried her to sit on the truck's hood.

The shotgun barrel banged her elbow. Sunday grabbed the gun and set it aside on the hood. "Guns and s.e.x don't mix for me, big boy. Keep it close, but don't think it's some kind of toy that'll get me off."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He kissed her hard along her neck.

No soft, tickling kisses from this man. The intensity of his quest captured her in the rush, the excitement, the need to move forward faster. Everything was high-octane and furious. Exactly how she liked her cars.

"You said there was a bed up the stairs?"

"A wobbly cot. But there's a wool blanket we could toss in the back of the truck bed."

"I like the way you think. Don't move. I'll be right back."

Six.

Rain still mercilessly clattered the steel roof. Navigating the garage in the darkness was instinctive. Dean found the extra room. A sharp pine odor erased Sunday's s.e.xy-sweet scent from his sinuses. A tree-shaped air freshener hung from the pull chain below the bare lightbulb. An army-issue folding cot supported by six narrow wooden legs stood in the corner. A shove made it wobble.

"This thing is only good for careful s.e.x." He grabbed the blanket. "I like my s.e.x a bit more dangerous."

And the woman waiting downstairs was about as dangerous as they came He jumped over the top-floor banister to the garage floor, landing with a deft squat.

"Show-off," Sunday said. He tossed her the blanket. "Let me put this down."

She'd let down the truck gate, and leaned over to spread the blanket across the steel bed. Dean grasped her hips and eased his erection against her fine a.s.s. She didn't have much of a booty, but the curvy hips were just right.

"We going to play this my way?" she asked.

He lifted her onto the truck bed. She slid up to pull him in for a deep kiss. Man, she could put him to his knees with this kiss.

There was something about a woman who did exactly as she pleased that fired all his wors.h.i.+p reflexes.

"What way is that?"

"We satisfy you first, and worry about me later."

"I don't like that idea, because I want you to take your pleasure, too."

She slipped a finger down behind the waistband of his jeans, and skimmed his erection. Now that was a knee-wors.h.i.+pping- worthy move. "You won't be able to deny me pleasure, wolf boy. But I like the idea of holding back my climax as long as possible. Because once I come, then the party is so over, I promise you that."

"All right then. Deal." He grimaced.

A familiar spark snapped through his limbs. It had nothing to do with l.u.s.t. Dean clutched his gut.

"Dean? What's wrong? h.e.l.l, your beard is really getting thick. What time is it?"

"Close to midnight, for sure."

"Hang on. There's a clock in the office."She slipped from the truck bed and scampered off.

"No, Sunday!" He gripped the wool blanket and gritted his teeth.