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Just One Taste Part 25

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"Just shut up. I'm not talking. We're just gonna do this my way." He grabbed her and gave her a hard, possessive kiss. When she melted into his arms, he pushed her away. "See?"

"I thought you said you never hurt women," she said, her voice shaking.

"I don't. You're not a woman. I'm not a man. We'll do it in your night garden, only I guess it's a day garden now, right?"

Oh, G.o.d. He was so angry. Lyra tried to remember the words she used with Flynn. Her thoughts had been so jumbled. She didn't want to fall in love. But she was very much afraid everything was out of her control now.

She put her hand on his arm. The same crackle of electricity pa.s.sed between them. "Stop this, Ben. This isn't who you are."



"How do you know who I am? You only met me yesterday," he parroted back to her.

"You're a good guy. I know that."

"Maybe I'm tired of being good. Maybe I'm tired of bottling up everything. It's been ten freakin' years. I'm on vacation." He held her hand tightly as they walked down the slope toward the barn. The white-painted gate was already open.

"Somebody must be in there," Lyra said. She hoped so. Maybe company would bring Ben to his senses.

"Nope. I planned ahead, babe. No point in wasting time with keys. After your little heart-to-heart talk with your brother this morning, I came down here to think. I could still smell you in the gra.s.s."

He pushed her ahead of him on the path. When they came to the center circle, his hands drew her hips to his groin. She s.h.i.+vered as she felt his c.o.c.k press up against the back of her shorts.

"Tell me you don't want this," he growled.

Lyra sagged in defeat. With trembling hands she pulled her s.h.i.+rt over her head, losing the scarf on the way. Her hair tumbled to her shoulders in a riot of curls.

He breathed in the sweet coconut smell of her shampoo and nipped the back of her neck, far more gently than he had last night. Instinctively, she knew what he wanted. He was going to take her like he had as an animal under the stars in his human form under the June-bright sky. He worked at the b.u.t.tons and zipper of her shorts, taking her underpants down with them.

She stepped out of her clothes and kicked them away. Gra.s.s stains were a b.i.t.c.h to get out, she thought wildly, almost giggling. She fell to her hands and knees and presented herself to her mate.

She could hear the ragged intake of his breath, the rumple of clothes as he got rid of them. With absolutely no foreplay, he speared into her hot, moist center and grunted.

Holy G.o.d. She was tight. He was huge. She never wanted to move. But an urge more powerful than either of them took control, and he began his relentless thrusts.

He palmed a breast in each hand, pinching her nipples to hard little peaks. She gasped, whispering his name. When she pushed back against him, something dark s.h.i.+fted within. He didn't hold back. Blackness washed over them.

She knew any second his torturing fingers would turn to claws and pierce her tender flesh. The size of his c.o.c.k would stretch her beyond bearing. If she didn't try to s.h.i.+ft now, he'd kill her without meaning to. If she was unsuccessful at making the change, she was not meant to be his, and he'd kill her anyway.

And if she did s.h.i.+ft, there was no turning back. She would belong to him for the time they had on earth.

She had forgotten to tell him that little fact yesterday. Or today. The ritual words were all well and good for ordinary play, but when you met your true partner, they were unnecessary. In fact, you could not stop yourself from s.h.i.+fting with your destined mate. The trick was to do it together.

Lyra knew Ben's control was hanging by a thread. Yesterday she had said timing was everything. It had never been more true. As his lips grazed a shoulder, she felt the unmistakable bite of a panther coming. Closing her eyes, she whispered a prayer.

The agonized cries scattered the birds from the trees and shattered the peace of the sunny June afternoon. It was soon followed by another, harsher yowl. In a circle of green, two gleaming animals, one dark, one fair, lay still as death.

Chapter 6.

Her blood filled his mouth. He could drink it for days on end. It was rich, sweet, the most ambrosial flavor he'd ever encountered. He rammed a blunt nose to her shoulder to nudge her, but she slept on. Holding her down with his ma.s.sive black paw, his rough tongue worked the blood out of her fur and into his mouth.

He blinked. The sun was nearly blinding, the sky electric blue. He should close his eyes, but he had to keep vigil over his mate. She was his absolutely. He knew it deep within his racing heart. He wasn't quite sure how he had gone from Ben to who he really was, but he was glad. There would be no more nonsense from her now.

He rolled on his back in the gra.s.s, wrinkling and rubbing the folds of his skin, then stood on all fours and shook. Little blades of gra.s.s fell like a dusting of green snow, landing on her pale brown nose. Gingerly, he licked them off.

She purred in her sleep, her dark lips curled over her powerful teeth. She had given almost as good as she'd gotten, he thought. She was a fighter. Good. He liked that. But he also liked knowing that he would always win.

"Oh, Jesus."

He looked up and saw Flynn and Rachel, peering over the fence. He growled and flicked his tail.

"Rachel, meet my future brother-in-law, Ben Cooper."

"Are you sure?" she whispered, alarmed.

"Oh, yeah. You don't s.h.i.+ft outdoors in the daytime unless the cops are after you or you get mated for life. In fact, I'm a little fuzzy on how they're going to be able to s.h.i.+ft back in time for dinner. How'd you like to help me tonight? I've got a feeling these two will be of no use at all."

The panther roared in irritation, but Flynn just laughed. "You don't scare me, buddy. Don't worry, I'll bring some turkey to the honeymoon suite. Bet you're pretty hungry right now, aren't you?"

Ben wanted to charge the fence, but instead he raised his head and sniffed. Turning to Lyra, he saw her golden eyes open and glowing. She rolled from her side, rose her hindquarters up in the air and lifted her tail. He was not a stupid animal, and knew an invitation when he saw one.

"Really TMI," muttered Flynn. "Let's go make some gravy."

Every inch of her was in pain. Even the ends of her hair hurt. Her tongue was swollen, her eyeb.a.l.l.s dry. Sometime in the night she had pushed Ben off her and stumbled to the bathroom to remove her contact lenses. Even half-blind, she could see she was a wreck. She was sunburned everywhere. She was as fond of nude sunbathing as the next girl, but she'd always used plenty of sunblock.

And the scratches. She needed a case of Neosporin and about a million bandages. Her super-human healing ability seemed to have deserted her.

All because of the d.a.m.n daylight. n.o.body with any sense s.h.i.+fted outside in the daylight. Only an ignorant jerky jock out to prove a point would be so criminally stupid to force her to decide that she could choose to die or be stuck with him forever at two o'clock in the afternoon.

And get boiled like a lobster to boot.

He told he read books, knew stuff from the Internet, but he didn't know s.h.i.+t. She should have warned him. But would he have listened? He'd been furious, and she couldn't even remember exactly what she'd said to p.i.s.s him off.

Okay, fine, she was his life mate-she'd pretty much figured that out in the linen room yesterday morning. It had disturbed her, scared her; she didn't think she was ready to give up her freedom. But she knew it was inevitable. He could have done it properly last night if he'd only waited until the sun went down.

She squinted her eyes, trying to focus on his face. He was asleep. Smiling. She wanted to hold a pillow down on him for about four hours, but she didn't have the energy.

And the very worst thing? He looked like he just came back from Cabo. He was deliciously dark all over.

Lyra reached for her gla.s.ses and almost screamed when they touched the bridge of her nose. She took them off. She needed to take a cold bath. Some cooling Noxzema, although she hated the smell of it. Her mother had slathered her in it when she was little. She wondered what her mother would say when Lyra told her she had to get married. She put one foot on the floor.

"Where are you going?" His voice was gravelly.

d.a.m.n it. She didn't want him to see her like this. And she didn't want to talk.

"To take a bath."

"Umm, that sounds like fun." He reached for her and she shrieked. "Jesus, what's wrong?" He rubbed his sleep-sandy eyes and looked at her more closely. "Holy s.h.i.+t, you look like you're on fire."

"I am! I was out in the sun naked all day yesterday, remember? I suppose you're going to tell me you didn't know most s.h.i.+fters can't deal with sunlight very well."

"c.r.a.p. I did know. I forgot. It's not as if I planned it. It just happened." He got a goofy grin on his face. "You're my life mate."

"Whoop-de-do," she said irritably. "I knew that yesterday morning."

"Well, why did you trash me to your brother then?" he asked, climbing out of bed.

His erection looked like it was a foot long, even without her gla.s.ses. "Put that thing away. I'll die if you touch me."

He pulled the top sheet off the bed and wrapped it around his hips. Now he looked like some d.a.m.n Roman G.o.d come to life.

"Why?" he repeated quietly.

"I was nervous. You play baseball!"

"You make it sound like I've got herpes. And I'm done. I'm just a poor teacher now. Is that the problem?"

He was angry again. Lyra sighed. "No, it's not the problem. My parents are teachers. G.o.d bless anybody who has the patience to work with kids. I know I certainly couldn't. And I can't work, period. Even the soles of my feet are sunburned." She burst into tears.

Ben crawled over the bed to her.

"Don't touch me!"

"Oh, babe," he said sadly. "I'm so sorry." He kissed the air above her shoulder.

He went into the bathroom and began to fill the tub with tepid water for her. She sniffed and hiccupped. Maybe she'd feel better soon. s.h.i.+fters were known for their recuperative powers. Ben said he'd healed up fast after his surgeries, even if he hadn't gotten his fastball back.

He came back and sat on the bed. "You look cute in gla.s.ses."

"I look like h.e.l.l on fire."

"Well, you are a bit red," he teased.

"You're going to have to go downstairs and tell Flynn I'm having a near death experience. Maybe I'll be better by lunchtime."

"Sure. Tell you what. I'll go online and see if I can find any remedies for sunburned s.h.i.+fters. How's that?"

"Google away," she said, grim. "It'll cost you extra for the Internet connection."

"You mean I'm not going to get a discount shacking up with the innkeeper?"

Lyra threw a pillow at him. She didn't miss.

By noontime, Lyra was indeed feeling well enough to come downstairs and have three gla.s.ses of sweetened ice tea and a leftover bran m.u.f.fin from breakfast. She was looking more toasted than burnt. She sat gingerly on a kitchen stool and watched her brother layer strips of turkey, ham, cheese and hard-boiled eggs into an enormous gla.s.s bowl already filled with two kinds of lettuce.

"What do you think, Lyra? Chef's salad. Black olives and roasted peppers. Cherry tomatoes. Homemade dressing. Think they'll figure out it's all leftovers?"

"Who cares? It's only lunch."

"Sacrilege! Get out of my kitchen this instant."

"I would if I could move fast. How'd the morning go?"

"Easy peasy. Rachel's been great. When you leave, I think I'll ask her to chuck her job and stay. She can paint here. She's really sweet."

Lyra put the gla.s.s down with a thunk. "Leave? I'm not leaving."

"Mr. Baseball may have something to say about that. He's your lord and master now."

"Like h.e.l.l!" Lyra's face now felt almost as red as before.

"Hey, Lyra, I didn't write the rules. You know as well as I do you're his now."

"Maybe he doesn't know that."

"Trust me. The guy may be a newbie-yeah, I know all about it. We had a little chat this morning, bro to bro. But he's well-versed in the lore. Except for the s.h.i.+fting in the sun part," Flynn chuckled. Lyra thought Flynn was very foolish to tick her off in the presence of so many sharp knives. But then, he was a male. They thought they were impervious.

d.a.m.n them all.

"I only have to obey him at night."

"You looked like daylight wasn't much of a problem yesterday, kiddo. I had to wash my eyes. Look," he said, wiping his hands on a black-and- red striped dishtowel, "I know you value your independence, but things have changed. If you want, I can buy out your share of the inn. That might take a couple of years. You know our financial situation better than I do. I'd rather keep you as a partner, even if you're living in a Connecticut boarding school. I'm sure we could come to some kind of equitable share of the profits. You could spend part of the summer here. He gets the whole thing off, right? I'll put you both to work. And when you guys have kids, you can come up on the family weeks and help organize their activities."

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About Just One Taste Part 25 novel

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