Cursed, p.5
Cursed, page 5
I hesitated. Could it be possible? Had I waited this long for no reason besides my own fear? My heart stopped. “All the way?”
“Mmhmm. All the way.” He gathered me in his arms again and leaned down to kiss me.
“But, I thought…”
Tristan kept his hands on me, but drew his mouth away. “I’m glad Wick practiced restraint, for more than the obvious reason, but I’m not him. I have a couple hundred years of control on him. It’s you I’m worried about. What’s to stop you from gnawing on my neck halfway through? I can’t promise to behave if you do that. No Were’s control is that good.”
Tristan probably had no qualms with me biting him. I snorted. “I chain down and contain a beast. You and your hundreds of years as a control freak have nothing on me.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about.” The corners of his mouth tipped up.
“Then…why…” I bit my lip and looked away. Why had he held back? Why hadn’t he pushed for more? He was an Alpha and used to getting what he wanted, used to taking what he wanted.
Then again, if he had pushed, I probably wouldn’t want him the way I did.
Tristan ran his finger along my jaw, gently pushing my chin back to centre so I faced him. His sapphire gaze bore into mine; intense, shining, overwhelming. “I wasn’t waiting until you were ready to bond, Andy. I waited for you to be ready to go farther, period. You have a past. A dark one. I respect that. We can stop whenever you want to.”
“But…” Alphas weren’t exactly the epitome of self-restraint or patience, but Tristan, and Wick for that matter, had greatly changed my perception of what it meant to be truly dominant. It didn’t always result in domineering or controlling behaviour, or pushing someone they cared for well past their point of comfort.
“I might be hundreds of years old, and certainly not without experience, but even I know our mating isn’t going to fix everything here.” He tapped my forehead.
“Or here.” He tapped my chest, right over my heart. “I’ll help you anyway I can, but that kind of healing has to come from within. Pressing you for more physically wouldn’t have helped either of us. And as for the actual bonding, we have plenty of time for that, too. I want you to be sure, really sure, before we consider that.”
His hands ran down my arms, his fingers softly entwined with my own. The subtle contact reassuring. I wanted to jump on him, stick to him like a limpet and never let go. Yet, I also yearned to continue at a slow pace, to let time and Tristan lead me as I healed from my past. I didn’t want to rush the relationship we continued to build, but I also wanted the physical stuff. I wasn’t a saint. Every nerve ending in my skin screamed for more.
With a gentle tug, Tristan walked backward and pulled me into the bedroom after him. My mountain lion purred—the sound vibrated through my body and settled deep in my core. Tristan’s chest rumbled in answer, and my knees grew weak.
Tristan’s white teeth flashed, but I stood mesmerized by the intense blue of his gaze. Heat spread across my body as his arms moved to my waist and shoulders to draw me in, snug up against his body.
Warm lips met mine. They pressed harder and when I opened my mouth, Tristan slipped his devilish tongue in. I could kiss this man forever. He could rob me of oxygen, and I’d still keep going, I’d still crave his kiss, and the taste of his skin. Right now, though, I wanted more. I pulled his body to mine, and deepened the kiss. Tristan growled, and snagged my hair tight in his grip. His strong arms crushed me to his hard chest. His body hummed with his leopard’s purr, rumbling against my breasts. My mountain lion vibrated, pushing her energy against my skin to get closer to Tristan.
With my head dizzy and my heart pounding, Tristan freed his hands, grabbed the top he despised so much, and ripped it apart. My skinny jeans followed shortly after. Were strength had advantages. Although I might miss my favourite shirt tomorrow.
My hands drifted to his waist, eager to return the favour. Tristan gently pushed them away and shook his head. Feline yellow flashed across his gaze, his leopard riding him. He wanted to lead.
Oh, hell. Who was I kidding? I wanted him to lead, too. I sighed and let my arms fall to my side.
His head ducked down and with a flick of his fingers, my bra popped off to expose my breasts to his mouth. They grew heavy and burned for more. My body throbbed with need, enjoying his torment, but wanting all of him. My mountain lion’s purr strengthened until my whole body vibrated in unison to the ache between my legs.
Every time my hands moved to act, to help accelerate this exquisite torture, Tristan chuckled and gently deflected my attempts. Not my turn. Not yet.
His hands grazed my body, caressing in smooth circles across my skin, making my nerves sing. As if he could hear the song, he revisited every sensitive spot that sent my pulse racing and made my breathing shallow.
I tensed, waiting for nightmares from my past to flare up like a bad case of indigestion and ruin the mood, but the horrid images never came. In Tristan’s arms, safety accompanied the growing sense of belonging and the warmth in my chest. I relaxed in his embrace.
My hands drifted to his waist again to grip his hips. He let me push him back a little. I fumbled with the zipper of his jeans, but managed to yank his pants down far enough for him to step out of them without taking his mouth off me. My greedy hands moved to his shirt next, and I pulled it over his head. His skin tasted like mojitos as I ran my tongue along the contours of his body.
More. Need more. The thought so intense, it burned my skin. My mouth travelled along Tristan’s sweet skin.
He grunted and responded by throwing me backward onto the bed. Before I could move, Tristan’s lips were on me again, this time lower. He ripped my underwear off and tossed them to the side.
“I’ve waited forever to taste you.” His head bent low and his hot mouth clamped onto me, taking away my breath and any comment I could form. I should’ve felt exposed, vulnerable, and I did, but in a good way. No memories of the past haunted my mind as Tristan’s tongue explored and stirred an inferno inside me. Heat raced through my veins, flushing my skin in wave upon wave of pleasure.
Tristan’s sapphire gaze met mine as I stared down the length of my body. My hands curled into his dark hair.
A tidal wave built inside me, but before the wave broke, Tristan stopped.
“No,” I gasped.
He grinned and kissed his way down my inner thigh before nipping the sensitive skin on the inside of my knee. Hyper aware, my whole body jumped in response.
Tristan stood by the foot of the bed, naked and hard, and looked down at me. His defined muscles tense and ready, his dark hair mussed, his gaze speckled with leopard yellow. The absence of his body and hands created a rush of cold air. I shivered as goosebumps pebbled along my skin.
“Beautiful,” Tristan murmured.
Did he mean for me to hear him? Probably not. But his words warmed my skin from the inside out. He’d seen me naked plenty of times, and as a Were and Shifter respectively, Tristan and I were used to flaunting our birthday suits, but the bare desire burning in his gaze, called to me and my mountain lion. She continued to purr and push her energy forward.
Tristan paused and studied me, waiting. Waiting for what? Confirmation? Approval?
Pure contentment bubbled up, and I smiled.
Tristan’s shoulders relaxed. He found his jeans and took a condom out of the front pocket. Supes didn’t have to worry about diseases, but we did have to worry about pregnancy. Given my hesitation to complete the mate bond, the pitter-patter of little paws was definitely not on the table in the foreseeable future.
Quickly ripping the package open, Tristan rolled the condom on and then his mouth and hands were on me again. Hot lips moved over my skin as he crawled on top of me, winding his way back until his mouth met mine to delve into another heady kiss. His naked body ground against mine, an incinerator of heat, hard and hot. His erection pressed into my stomach, and his knee wedged between my thighs to nudge them apart.
I gripped his hips, and pulled him closer. My nails elongated and dug in. Tristan growled against my mouth, before returning to take my breath away with his kiss. My feras yowled and screeched indecipherable threats if we dared to stop now. Tristan shifted slightly to slip his body between my legs.
An indescribable tenderness built within my mind and chest, something so fragile, yet strong and potent, the very idea of it expanded my chest as if my heart inflated with something other than blood.
Tristan left no room for worry or fear. The heat of him sent all thoughts, all concerns, all logic from my mind and heart, leaving only Tristan, and the indescribable, overwhelming tenderness in my chest.
His hips flexed, and he pushed into me.
He paused, and his gaze sought mine. Infinitesimal shards of sapphire gems, streaked with leopard yellow to reveal the animal simmering beneath the surface, met my gaze with a need so intense it vibrated my body, my heart, my very being down the cellular level.
Yes, yes, and yes.
My mountain lion purred in agreement.
Sensing my unspoken agreement, Tristan slid inside with deliciously slow pressure, hard and thick.
We sighed in unison. With his hips flush with mine, he paused again. His mouth twitched. He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and sank his weight on top of me.
“You’re stunning,” he said. His full lips met mine in a gentle kiss. With his arms holding me tight, he started to move.
And my world shattered.
7
The sun snuck through the gaps between the blinds and sill to caress my face. The room smelled of night blooming jasmine and japonicas. It also smelled of Tristan and me. A new smell. Earthy, and not unpleasant. Tristan’s arm draped across my midsection; a welcome weight and slight discomfort. His naked body pressed into the back of mine; slightly stuck with the remnants of sweat despite having cooled down. I could lie like this forever; bathing in Tristan’s heat with the dew of lovemaking clinging to my skin, the faint caress of soft sheets and the crisp smells and sounds of a calm day.
My phone chattered. I ignored it, rolled around in bed, and snuggled against Tristan so my face smushed into his neck. His honeysuckle scent engulfed my nose and I took in deep breaths, wanting to get back to the place of tranquility before technology rudely interrupted.
My phone chittered again. And again. And again. I groaned and flopped back in bed.
“Mrrmmph.” Tristan’s hand groped for me.
I reached over to the night stand and checked my screen. Five missed calls from Stan. Crap! Stan and Lafleur had told me the paperwork and red-tape would take at least a couple of weeks for approval. In the meantime, they’d only call me in as a consultant if something big came up.
I tapped in my password and hit Stan’s contact information. He picked up right away.
“Andy, finally,” he said. His voice sounded like it had been wrung through a cheese grater and then punched in the guts a few times.
“Sorry, late night,” I said. My heart swelled with the growing closeness to Tristan and the humming contentment of my body and feras. “What’s up?”
The silence on the other end droned on while I waited for Stan to make some snarky comment about my love life. It never came. Only the slight fuzzy sound of the connection. And then I heard it.
A sob.
“Stan?” I sat up in bed and pushed Tristan’s roaming hands away. The dendrites in my brain sent off a cacophony of warning sirens. “Stan, is everything okay?”
Tristan rolled onto his back. His eyes popped open under furrowed brows.
Another sob, this time louder, came through, followed by a sniff. “They…”
I waited, apprehension twisting my stomach into a knot. Tristan smoothed his hand down my leg and gave me a quick peck on the cheek before slipping out of bed. His footsteps padded against the laminate flooring as he made his way to the kitchen. He would’ve heard Stan’s voice. He knew something was up. He gave me space and privacy. The coffee maker started to gurgle in the kitchen, and I sent a mental thank you to Tristan.
“Stan, are you still there?” I asked after he’d been silent for what seemed like eons.
“They killed her,” he blurted out and then broke down into sobs.
“What?” I flung the sheet off and stood up. The cool morning air brushed over my naked skin and goosebumps pebbled on my arms and legs.
“My…my wife…Lor…she’s…Oh god!”
I stared at my phone, and my heart crunched in tune with the sounds of pain coming from the other end. His wife was dead? I’d never met Stan’s partner in crime, but I knew the veteran cop loved her unconditionally. His face always lit up when he spoke of her. Stan emitted another sob, and I wanted to reach through my cell phone and hug him.
“Where are you?” I asked.
Stan didn’t answer.
“Stan! Where are you?”
“The precinct,” he mumbled. “They left me in the staffroom. They won’t tell me anything that’s going on. No one will talk to me. Except…” He sniffed loudly into the receiver. “…except to say they’re sorry for my… Fuck!” He drew in a long breath through his nose. “I didn’t…I didn’t know who else to call.”
“Well, you called the right person. I’ll be right there, buddy. Just…just hold on, okay?”
Tristan! I mentally called out.
I caught it all. Go. I’ll lock the door on my way out, he replied.
Thank you, I replied. So much for a romantic breakfast in bed and another round of hide the sausage. Screw it. What a selfish thought. My plans were insignificant to Stan’s pain. Tristan understood. We’d have plenty of mornings together later.
I threw open the window and shifted to my falcon form. The transformation would cleanse my body and soul and give me time to think during the ten minute flight to the precinct. Stan had arranged for a change of clothes and a lock box on the precinct’s roof after my meeting with Lafleur. No gallivanting around naked in front of the VPD. It meant telling Stan and Lafleur about my falcon form. After they got over it, they decided it was pretty cool. Now, I was thankful I dished my secret,
Holy crap! Stan’s wife. I screeched into the bright morning air. The poor man. What he must be going through right now.
Why’d he call me? Did it matter?
Not at all. But he had a whole brotherhood of police officers, male and female, to draw on. Why wasn’t someone there to support him?
By the time I’d landed on the precinct’s roof top, red hot anger raged inside my bird body on Stan’s behalf. I shifted quickly, threw on my stashed clothes—baggy VPD sweats and a matching long-sleeved shirt—and marched into the building.
Stan’s floor was empty, aside from the office clerk, manning the front desk. Officer Gallows had deep set Slavic features and large bags under his eyes. I’d met him a number of times, usually with him sitting behind a desk. When he looked up and took in my appearance, he didn’t look surprised. The creases around his eyes smoothed out, and he sighed. “Glad you’re here.”
“Where is everyone?” I barked.
The officer jumped in his seat. “Looking for Loretta’s killer.”
“Everyone?”
He nodded.
“Is that why Stan’s alone right now?”
He nodded, again. “He wanted to be alone. Yelled at us to leave him and find the killer. Told the therapist to go fuck himself. Everyone’s out trying to do something.”
“Oh.” My anger dissipated, and I mentally slapped myself for being such a jerk.
“No one knows what to do, so we’re doing everything we can to find out what happened. We’re…we’ve lost members of our force before. We all know it’s a risk of the job, but for the perp to take one of our family members…this shit’s fucked up. Everyone’s on edge, and we all want to find out who did this.”
I nodded, totally getting it. Stan wouldn’t let them comfort him, so they were out doing the one thing for him they knew they could do—police work.
“He still in the staffroom?”
The officer nodded. “Just Tony outside the door. Pops his head in every now and then to…you know…make sure Stan doesn’t hurt himself.”
Without speaking, I walked around the desk, through the secured area and made my way to the staffroom at the back of the building. A cop with a solemn expression and soft eyes, probably Tony, stood outside the staffroom. After a brief nod in his direction, I took a deep breath and pushed open the door. Stan sat at an empty table in a plastic fold out chair, elbows down and his hands cradling his head. He swayed back and forth in his seat, constantly pushing his face down to run his fingers through his sparse, but messy hair.
“Stan,” I said. My voice broke.
He froze and lifted his head. Blood shot eyes, stark white complexion, dried lips. The room stank of his misery; hot metal, stiff in the air as if an invisible weight compressed everything.
I swallowed.
Stan pushed back from the table to stand. Without a word, I walked over to him, and pulled him close for a hug. With his head bent into my neck, he cried. His shoulders shook. His whole body racked with sobs, and my shirt became damp as his tears soaked through the material.
I held him tightly and whispered “shhh” into his ear. But I didn’t tell him it would be okay. That was a lie. It wouldn’t be. He’d lost his life partner. His mate. Norms might not have mate bonds like some of the supernatural, but that didn’t mean their loss was any less significant. I’d seen Weres lose their mates. It wasn’t pretty. It looked, smelled, and felt exactly like this.
I rubbed his back and kept shushing into his hair.
“They killed her,” he whispered. “They killed her because of me.”
8
An icy chill vibrated up my spine as his words echoed in my head. “What do you mean?”
Stan pushed away from me, swiped his nose with his sleeve and looked at his feet. “The local news ran a story about KK and named me as the lead investigator. When I got off my shift, I went home to find her…” He squeezed his eyes shut. Then his shoulders straightened, his body tensed, and he opened his blood shot eyes to fix me with his intense gaze. Cop mode switched on. “No money or jewellery was taken and a vial of KK was found on the scene. Lab results aren’t back yet, but preliminary inspection… They don’t think KK was in Loretta’s system. Whoever shot her, did it to send me a message.”
