Adamant Spirits, page 68
Deft fingers reached for the button on my pants, and it was mere seconds before his hand plunged inside to grasp me firmly, stroking me in the dark of the alleyway. This was dangerous—there were laws against such things, places that were and were not safe to perform such acts—but I couldn’t be bothered to stop him, desperate as I was for his touch after all these long months wondering and wishing. I groaned into his mouth and Jon pulled away, his haunted eyes burning through me.
He was on his knees before I had time to speak, to think, his mouth coming around my cock and making me hiss out a breath. I thrust into him, my hand falling to his hair, tangling there and pulling hard. Jon’s growl rumbled against my skin, his hand working me as he sucked at me with inexperienced lips. He was intuitive though, and it seemed like no time at all before he had learned to swirl his tongue around my tip, to stroke me faster when I pulled his hair harder. My heart pounded as I fell into the sweet ecstasy of his mouth, focusing entirely on where he sucked me dry.
“Jon, I’m…hell, I’m going to…”
He didn’t drag away, didn’t run. Instead, he sucked harder, stroked faster, and when I looked down at him he was watching me with a wolfish stare, those soft grey eyes more like hard steel.
I came hard in a series of thrusts, my voice echoing weakly in the darkness of the alley, and Jon watched me and drank from me. He answered my cries with a moan, as if he had just gotten a sample of something utterly delicious, and that sound was enough to make my knees buckle.
He stood slowly, ducking his head to swipe the back of his hand across his lips. My eyes fluttered as I tried to process what had just happened, Jon behaving as if we had done nothing more than conduct a casual conversation between friends.
“Good night, Edward,” he muttered.
And then he was striding away, back onto the streets of Mayfair with his hands in his coat pockets. I watched in stunned silence until he turned the corner, then buttoned my trousers again in haste to walk the opposite direction back to my flat.
So this would be the way of things, then.
With this, I could be satisfied.
Bearly Hanging On
Heat Level: ☕︎☕︎☕︎☕︎
Honey Phillips
USA Today bestselling author Honey Phillips writes steamy science fiction stories about hot alien warriors (and shifters!) and the human women they can’t resist, including Blind Date with an Alien. From abductions to invasions, the ride might be rough, but the end always satisfies.
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This story is a prequel to a future paranormal romance series.
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One
“Can I go now?” Sara asked, her body practically quivering with excitement. “I can do the silver in the morning.”
“What’s the rush?” Alice asked, hiding her smile. She liked her young waitress, even if the girl could be a bit scatterbrained sometimes.
“Bobby promised to take me to that new roadhouse over in Buncombe County tonight, the Silver Moon.”
An immediate protest hovered on Alice’s tongue, but she knew better than to voice her doubts. Bobby was new in town, working part-time at Wally’s garage. He was good-looking enough, and the few times he’d been in the diner he’d been polite, but something about him made her skin crawl. But even though Alice didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him, Sara thought she was in love and wouldn’t appreciate her concern. Instead, she settled for a more practical objection.
“That’s over an hour away. You won’t even get there ‘til gone eleven.”
Sara shrugged, already reaching for her Hello Kitty purse. “They’re having some kinda summer sol… sol something party.”
“Summer solstice?”
“That’s it! And Bobby says it doesn’t start until midnight. See ya!”
Alice shook her head as she watched the girl dance off. Had she ever had that much energy? When she was Sara’s age, she’d been working two jobs to put Alan through medical school. And now, twenty years later, all she wanted after a long shift at the diner was a hot bath, a good book, and a glass of wine.
With a tired sigh, she sat down at the kitchen counter and started rolling the silverware in paper napkins. Just as she finished, she heard the tinkle of the bell over the front door.
Dammit. Sara must have forgotten to lock the door when she left. The tourists who flooded their small mountain town during the summer season wouldn’t hesitate to barge in, even if the lights were off.
She pushed herself upright, ignoring her aching feet. The swinging door that concealed the kitchen gave its usual squeaky protest as she stepped into the darkened dining room.
“Sorry. We’re closed…” The words died on her tongue.
The biggest man she had ever seen stood just inside the front door. A stained T-shirt stretched over acres of muscles, revealing corded forearms. Ripped, faded jeans—the kind that came from use, not fashion—clung to tree trunk thighs as he stalked towards her.
For just a second, his eyes seemed to reflect an amber glow. Damn. Now she was so tired she was hallucinating.
Masking her nerves with the ease of long practice, she moved behind the old-fashioned manual cash register. Her hand closed over the reassuring handle of the solid wooden bat she kept beneath the counter.
“I’m sorry, sir. We’re closed.” Thank goodness her voice didn’t shake.
He didn’t respond, leaning against the other side of the counter as he studied her. He was even bigger up close, towering over her by more than a foot, and her pulse sped up—but it wasn’t from fear.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?”
His voice was low, gravelly—as if he smoked two packs of cigarettes and drank a bottle of whiskey every night—but it rumbled across her skin like a caress. Her nipples actually tightened beneath her faded pink waitress uniform.
“I haven’t been little since before I hit my first growth spurt,” she said tartly, ignoring the unexpected reaction. “And I was never pretty.”
“Now who told you that, darlin’?”
He leaned forward, into the light coming through the kitchen door, and she finally got a good look at him. Dark hair threaded with silver needed a good cut, he obviously hadn’t shaved for a while, and he would never have been called handsome—but he possessed a sheer, rugged masculinity that called to some long-forgotten part of her. A ripple of excitement trickled down her spine and settled low in her belly.
His eyes seemed to spark amber again as his nostrils flared. “Mmm. You smell as sweet as you look.”
She snorted. She knew she smelled like cooking grease and the harsh industrial cleaner they used in the kitchen.
“Now I know you’re lying. And I already told you, we’re closed. You need to—” She suddenly realized the dark stain on his shirt was spreading. “Oh my God, you’re bleeding!”
“It’s nothing,” he said dismissively, but he finally took his eyes off her and looked around. “I need a phone.”
“You need a hospital. I’ll call an ambulance.”
She had her hand on the phone next to the register when he put his hand over hers. Huge, with scarred knuckles and worn calluses, but infinitely gentle as it covered her fingers.
“No, darlin’. There’s someone else I need to call.”
His big body loomed over her, so close she could feel the heat radiating from it and catch a wild, musky scent that made her want to lean into him. How had he come around the counter so fast?
For once, words deserted her. She mutely handed him the phone. He took it, but didn’t move away. She’d have to wiggle past him to get free, and the thought of rubbing up against that big, hard body made her insides quiver.
Lord, now I’m acting like a stupid teenager, she thought ruefully. But even with that knowledge, she couldn’t force herself to move.
He glanced down at her, almost as if he could read her thoughts, and one corner of his mouth tilted up in a half-smile. His finger brushed a strand of her hair, and she suddenly remembered that she’d already taken it down.
Cheeks heating, she fumbled in her apron pocket for a clip to tie back the unruly cloud of silvery blonde hair that was the bane of her existence. When she snuck another look at him, he was frowning at the phone. Apparently, no one was answering his call.
“Fuck,” he muttered, slamming the phone down.
She distinctly heard it crack, and the sound broke through her unusual silence.
“Be careful with that! I can’t afford a new one.” Or much of anything else really. Running a small town diner meant she always felt like she was on the verge of bankruptcy.
“Sorry, darlin’.”
Despite the apology, his thoughts were clearly elsewhere, his fingers tapping on the counter.
“And my name is not darlin’,” she snapped.
That got his attention. He looked down at her, then leaned a fraction closer. Close enough that she could feel his hard body actually brushing against hers. Lord, it felt every bit as good as she’d imagined.
“It should be,” he murmured in her ear, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. “What do you want me to call you?”
“Alice. My name is Alice.”
“Alice,” he repeated, and the sound of her name in that deep, rumbling voice made her nipples harden to aching points.
He growled—growled?—and took another step closer, trapping her between his body and the counter. She had thought he felt good brushing against her, but it was nothing compared to the full impact of that firm body pressed against her softer curves.
She had just come to the shocking realization that the hard ridge lodged against her stomach was a massive erection when her hand brushed against his shoulder and she felt the wetness of his bloody shirt
“Dammit, you need to go to the hospital.”
“Can’t do that, darlin’. I mean, Alice.”
“Why not?” She peered at him suspiciously. “Are you in some kind of trouble with the law?”
Somehow, in the past few minutes, she’d completely forgotten that she was alone with a very large, and possibly dangerous, man. Why wasn’t she afraid of him?
“Nothin’ like that.” He grinned. “Maybe I just don’t want to leave you.”
She snorted again, trying to ignore her pleasure at his words, and made up her mind.
“All right then… What’s your name?”
“My name is Jonah, but you can call me whatever you want.”
Those dark eyes laughed at her, and she shook her head.
“You might want to rethink that offer. Now go on through to the kitchen. I’ll take a look at the wound.”
“You?”
“Yeah. My husband was a doctor.” Did he just growl again? She frowned up at him. “I picked up a thing or two before he went his merry way.”
“He’s an ex-husband?” His voice was even deeper now.
“Thankfully.”
“Good. Then I won’t have to eliminate him.”
He surprised a laugh out of her.
“Gave up on that idea myself as well. Now go on through. I’ll just lock the door.”
“I’ll do it,” he said firmly, heading for the front door. “You shouldn’t have left it open.”
“I don’t usually. But I think Sara forgot on her way out. She was all excited about some new roadhouse.”
Even in the dim light, she could see his shoulders tense as he turned the lock. “Roadhouse?”
“Over in Buncombe County. We’re a dry county, but they can serve liquor there. Have you heard of it?”
Once again his eyes seemed to glow as he turned back towards her. “Yeah. I’ve heard of it.”
“Your eyes,” she whispered.
He shrugged as he reached her, and she could see they were brown, a dark delicious chocolate brown, once more. “It’s a genetic thing. Runs in my family.”
“You don’t say? Well, come on. I’ll play doctor.”
Two
Jonah watched in fascination as Alice’s cheeks turned pink when she realized what she’d said. But she lifted her chin and marched off to the kitchen, the skirt of her old fashioned pink diner uniform swishing around her round little ass, surprisingly lush for a woman with such a slender build. Tall for a human female, with long, graceful hands and feet.
Mate, his bear growled, but he did his best to ignore him. The wolves liked to go on about fated mates, but he’d never put much stock in it. Especially since he’d reached his mid-forties without the slightest urge to find one. But this woman…
As soon as he’d caught a hint of her scent, his bear had stirred. And then he’d seen her face, big grey eyes cool and observant. She wasn’t in the first blush of youth, but it only added to the character underlying that pretty face.
Not pretty? He had to force back another growl. Stupid human men.
Especially the one who’d been fool enough to let her go, even if it was going to make Jonah’s life much easier.
“Sit in that chair and take off your shirt,” she ordered.
She’s a bossy little thing, he thought, hiding his smile. He didn’t mind a woman who knew her own mind.
He grabbed the neck of his shirt and yanked it over his head just as she turned around.
“Oh my.”
It was barely a whisper, but his keen hearing picked it up. Her eyes traveled across his shoulders and down the ridges of his abs. The obvious appreciation on her face made his shoulders go back. He knew he was in good shape. He’d spent almost twenty years as a lumberjack before his wood sculptures earned enough to make a living—and his shifter heritage didn’t hurt.
Her gaze dropped between his thighs and he saw her eyes widen. The rampant erection that had sprung to life as soon as he felt her sweet body against his still hadn’t subsided.
Ready to mate, his bear insisted as her eyes lingered there.
Not yet. She doesn’t know.
Doesn’t matter. She’s ours.
He was half-inclined to agree, but the problem that had brought him here had to be resolved first. He wouldn’t dream of exposing his mate to danger.
His bear reluctantly agreed, subsiding with a disgruntled huff.
“That part of me is working fine, darlin’.”
She jumped, and her gaze flew back to his face as her cheeks turned an even darker pink. Would they turn the same color when she came? His cock grew even stiffer at the thought.
“Umm, right. Sit down, please.”
He silently obeyed.
“I was just checking for other injuries,” she added with a defiant little sniff.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I think I prefer darlin’ to ma’am,” she muttered, as she started wiping the blood from his wounds. “What on earth happened to you?”
“Knife fight,” he said casually. “And I was completely innocent. Just passing through.”
The second part was true enough. He’d known he was in wolf territory, but most shifters didn’t have a problem with other shifters passing through their territory so long as they didn’t start trouble. But the fucking wolves he’d encountered at the roadhouse had no intention of letting him go so easily. They’d just underestimated him and only sent two wolves after him.
“So you aren’t from around here?” she asked.
“I live up in Tennessee. I usually just head through the mountains to visit a… friend in South Carolina, but a rockslide closed the main road. Figured I’d come this way instead. Glad I did now.”
He smiled at her, but she avoided his eyes.
“Is that who you were trying to call? Your friend?”
Her voice sounded odd, and he darted a glance at her face as she concentrated on his wounds. Why had she tensed up? He replayed his words in his head and winced. Oh.
“Yes. I didn’t want him to worry.”
He had guessed correctly. Her shoulders relaxed, and his bear grunted with satisfaction. Jealous mate.
“That’s odd,” she muttered.
“What is?”
“Despite all the blood, the wounds aren’t that bad.”
Because his bear’s healing powers had already kicked in, but he didn’t think she was ready to hear that yet.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” she continued, her voice puzzled. “They’re almost like claw marks, but there’s nothing around here big enough to do that.”
As if in response to her words, a howl sounded from outside the building, rapidly followed by another. Fuck. The persistent bastards had come after him.
Alice shivered, tilting her head to listen.
“That’s strange. Coyotes don’t usually make it this far into town.”
He knew it wasn’t a coyote howl, but he didn’t bother to correct her. Gently moving her hands aside, he rose to his feet and walked silently down the narrow passageway to the rear door. An alley ran behind the buildings that fronted Main Street, with a compact loading area directly behind the diner. As he peered through the small window in the door, three shifters started down the alley, their heads up and their eyes alert.
He wasn’t particularly fond of most wolves, but he couldn’t argue with their senses. There was no way they wouldn’t be able to scent his presence. As if his thoughts had triggered it, one of them suddenly swung his head around to focus on the back of the diner. Fuck. He had to protect his mate - which meant he had to get them away from her.
Alice padded up behind him, an inquisitive look on her face.
“What’s—”
He put a hand gently over her mouth and tugged her back down the passageway.
“Trouble,” he whispered softly.
Her beautiful eyes were wide and indignant above his hand, with just a hint of fear. He wanted to reassure her, but there wasn’t time.
