Marriage Claws Page 13

  She looked to be in her late teens, but in this family that probably wasn’t any indication of anything. I offered my hand. “Hi, Anna. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Anna’s pale brows creased, her bright smile faltering as she glanced down at my hand. She shook her head. “What’re you doing? We’re sisters. Or soon will be. That’s not how sisters greet each other.”

  I had about half a second for my brain to unscramble her meaning and work out what she planned to do. FYI, half a second wasn’t nearly long enough.

  Before I could even brace myself, the young girl launched her body at me, slamming into my chest and sending us both sailing backwards onto the grass. I landed with a huff, the air exploding out of me with Anna’s solid body landing on top of me. For a skinny teenager, the kid was startlingly heavy. My head slammed back, and for a second stars and little blue Tweety birds circled inside my brain.

  Jack’s sister laughed hysterically, rolling off me after a second or two. “I’m so sorry. I’m not used to how frail humans are. You looked stronger.”

  “She is strong,” Jack said, reaching a hand down to me after he’d gotten his giggling sister on her feet. He pulled me up, catching me at his side. “You didn’t give her much warning.”

  “You’re right. I’m really sorry, Kate,” Anna said, her laughter trailing off. “I hope I didn’t hurt you. Are you alright?”

  I nodded. “I’m good.”

  “Really? Wanna try it again? I’ll give you a second to get ready this time.”

  “NO!” Jack, Frank, Meredith and I all said at once.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Anna was a third wheel for the rest of the evening . . . and I loved it. I’d never had a sister. I’d barely had a brother—after Mom died, George was more like a son. It was fun having Anna pester Jack and me, being an adorable pain in the ass however she could.

  Jack was wonderful with her. The perfect big brother, patient and yet a little mean—picking on her when she deserved it, then bolstering her confidence like only a big brother could. The love between them was palpable, and for a moment I forgot that I was supposed to be pretending. I just . . . enjoyed being part of the family.

  “Thank you,” Jack said once we were back in our room. His parents had given us Jack’s old bedroom suite. After all we were mates. Married or not, of course we’d share a bed. Right? Riiight. Damn.

  “For what?” I yelled from the bathroom. I slipped my nightgown over my head and then realized I’d forgotten my robe. I stared in the mirror, weighing the sex appeal of my jersey-style Snoopy nightgown. Gray with quarter-length green sleeves, the hem stretching down to my knees and only barely hugging my body—I’d be lucky if Jack remembered I was a female inside the thing. I shrugged, resigned to an early evening, and padded out to the bedroom.

  “For being so great with my sister,” he said. His back was to me, standing in front of the little loveseat of the suite’s sitting area.

  He was in his PJs too—at least the bottom half. Oddly enough, I was okay with that. His shoulders stretched for miles, muscles rolling and flexing under his smooth skin as he folded the slacks of his suit. “Sorry I didn’t tell you about her. I think a part of me was hoping she somehow wouldn’t be involved in all of this.”

  He stepped around the couch to the wooden butler that already held his jacket, and carefully slipped the slacks onto the lower bar. He straightened the jacket when he’d finished with the slacks, smoothing the shoulders so it rested perfectly, not a crease or stray hair in sight.

  “I figured it was something like that. She’s a great kid,” I said, heading for the bed—because the man was crazy if he thought I was sleeping on the tiny couch. “How old is she?”

  “Twenty two,” he said turning.

  I yanked back the thick covers and crawled into the huge oversized king bed. My shoulders drooped. “Twenty-two? She barely looks sixteen. Speaking of looking freakishly young, how old are your parents, because I think I might have more wrinkles than your mother.”

  “What are you wearing?” He looked bothered, not angry really, but definitely irritated.

  I glanced down at the big Snoopy dancing across my chest. “Hey. Back off, Joan Rivers. Believe it or not, this is my good nightgown.” At least I’d remembered to pack my weekend undies—the ones that still had all the elastic intact.

  “What sort of grown woman wears Snoopy nightgowns?”

  “The kind of woman who values comfort and a good night’s sleep.” I raised my chin. “And has outstanding taste in cartoon characters. Obviously.”

  He shook his head as though his eyes were stuck. “Never mind. Forget it.” Jack scanned the room before he finally remembered what he’d been doing and grabbed his shoes from the floor. “My parents are in their sixties.”

  “So the thing about werewolves aging slower than humans is true.”

  “Obviously,” he said, his tone curt. He tossed the shoes to the bottom of the wooden butler, one totally missing the little shelf made special for them. “Anything else?”

  “How old are you?”

  He turned, yanking his pajama top from the back of the couch where he’d left it. “I’ll turn forty this year. Does it matter?”

  “No. I guess not. But I’m kinda young for you aren’t I?”

  “Yes. You are,” Jack said, shoving his hands into the black sleeves. “Is that all?”

  “One more thing,” I said, feeling a little agitated myself. “You have a thing against all cartoon dogs? Or does this one just remind you of an old girlfriend or something?”

  “What?” He started buttoning his PJ top but it was lining up wrong. “What are you talking about? And what the hell’s wrong with these buttons? They’re all misaligned. Why would someone sew the buttons in the wrong spots?”

  Good Lord, the man was going to pop a gasket. I shoved the covers back and slipped out of bed, padding across the hardwood floor to him. I smacked his hands away and started undoing his handy work. “So . . . buttons, huh? A common weakness for werewolves, or is it just you?”

  “No. It’s you.” Faster than I could track, Jack latched his hands on my arms and pulled me toward him, lifting me to my toes. “What are you doing to me? I can’t think straight around you, not after today, after you charmed everyone, after you charmed me, and now . . . now you’re wearing that ridiculous nightgown.”

  My breath caught, mouth gaping open. I was nearly level with his piercing green eyes, the look of unbridled hunger glistening in their depths. My body warmed in answer, my mouth dry. “But it’s . . . it’s just Snoopy.”

  “Exactly. Why can’t you be like every other woman I’ve ever known?” he asked. “Why can’t you be predictable . . . boring . . . forgettable?”

  My chest pinched. “You want to forget me?”

  “Yes, damn it.” He shook me—not hard, and just once. “I want to forget about you. I want you out of my head for at least two damn seconds . . .” He pulled me to his chest, his gaze dropping to my lips. “Before it’s too late and I forget why I ever wanted this to end.”

  He fit his mouth to mine, stealing my breath and emptying my brain. Suddenly I didn’t care about anything, my heart skipping faster, the feel of his kiss warming straight to my core.

  My hands slipped around his neck on reflex, my mouth opening to the stroke of his tongue. He let me go only to scoop me up again, his powerful arms wrapping around my waist, holding me tight to his body, lifting me so I couldn’t feel the floor. The world fell away.

  Jack pushed us backwards and when we stopped I was standing next to the bed. He broke the kiss reaching down to grab the hem of my nightgown and pull it up and off my head in one quick move. I gasped, instinct drawing my arms to my chest, blinking up at him.

  Desire filled his eyes and he took my wrists, opening my arms, his gaze traveling over my naked chest, to my panties. His smile turned carnal—wicked. “So you do have plenty of lacy stuff.”

  His voice was low and rough and my body
awakened to the need thickening his tone. He shifted forward and I put my hands on his chest, his skin hot and smooth and solid. He waited, allowing me to enjoy the arousing feel of his muscled chest, pushing the edges of his top off his shoulders, letting it slip down his arms to the floor.

  Jack advanced on me again, but I stopped him, my palm flat between his pecs.

  “Wait. I get the feeling you’re way too used to taking the driver’s seat,” I said sounding more in control than I felt. “It’s time you let someone else behind the wheel.”

  He frowned, his breath catching in his chest as I grabbed his arms and switched places with him. Suddenly it was me sliding my hands down his body, my fingers feeling over the narrow bones of his hips, catching the band of his pajama bottoms. I shoved them down his legs, fast, leaving them in a pile around his feet.

  I pushed him back against the bed. The mattress caught him mid-thigh and he dropped, leaning back as I crawled on top of him.

  Once his head settled against the pillows his frown melted into a hungry line, his need too intense to allow for a smile. I straddled him, slipping my hand down between us, fondling the stiff readiness of his sex.

  Jack rocked his hips up to meet me, eyes closed, his head pushing back with a moan. Muscles between my thighs flexed, excitement slicking through me. I wanted this more than I should. I leaned forward, taking a kiss as he’d done to me more than once.

  His body stiffened beneath me, caught by surprise, unable to deny my demands. I stroked my tongue along his lips and pushed into his mouth, tasting him, taking what I wanted. Jack braced his hands on my hips, and I reached down, shifting them up, squeezing them to my breasts.

  Our eyes met, his so full of confusion you’d think this was his first time. I leaned into his hands, squeezed them again, encouraging him. He took the hint, massaging my breasts. The sensation jolted through me, zinging through every muscle and I caught my bottom lip between my teeth, biting back a moan.

  Finally, Jack smiled, his hips rocking up again, stroking his erection against me. I rocked back, the rippling feel of his body catching along the lace of my panties and reverberating through my sex, forcing me to do it again and again.

  “Take them off,” he said and I opened my eyes to stare down at him. “Take them off, or I will.”

  I blinked, my brain swimming up through the haze. It took a second, but finally I understood, pushing up to my knees, wiggling out of my panties. Awkwardly I shifted from one side to the other, yanking the lacy fabric off each foot.

  The moment they were off, Jack shifted, his hands grabbing my hips, his body already turning to pull me under him. I stiffened. Stopped him.

  “Hold up, cowboy. This is my rodeo.” With both hands on his shoulders, I drove him back against the pillow, settling on top of him again.

  “Kate, I was born to be an alpha, to be in charge,” he said, tense laughter in his voice. “This goes against my nature.”

  My fingers wrapped around the shaft of his sex and I stroked him from root to tip. “Not against your nature. Just against what you’re used to. You don’t have to lead right now. You just have to do as you’re told. Now, lay back and touch me again. The way I showed you.”

  A deep growl shook through his chest and I could feel it vibrating up through my body. But Jack pressed his head back against the pillow, his hands caressing up my ribs to my chest, his thumbs teasing the sides of my breasts.

  “Like this?” he asked.

  “Mmm . . . That’s right. Good boy.” My back arched, and his big hands enveloped me.

  “Jesus, Kate. What have you done to me?” He lifted up, taking one breast into his mouth, suckling it and then the other.

  Sensation tingled through my veins, my body hot and molten. I shifted, centering on top of him, and guided his hard, swollen sex inside me. Jack gasped, the most sensitive part of his body stroking against mine. My muscles clenched, his sex filling me, pleasure vibrating straight up my spine.

  I sucked a loud breath and sat back, hard, driving him deep. I wanted to stay in control, wanted to keep his obedience but my mind was suddenly ablaze, need pressing at the edges of my skin. I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted.

  His big hands latched onto my hips, lifting me a half inch before pressing me down on him. He rocked his hips up to meet me, thrusting deeper and sending a shockwave of pleasure rippling through me.

  Jack’s fingers pressed into my skin, denting my flesh, lifting me then drawing me down again. He did it again, faster. And again, faster still. His hips pressed up to meet me each time, the solid shaft of his sex stroking deeper and deeper.

  Sensation rippled through my muscles with each thrust, building a delicious pressure that promised even more. Within seconds the steady rhythm of our bodies grew frantic, my heart pumping the pleasure through my veins. I held my breath, ecstasy only a moment away. I could feel it coming, building . . . just a little longer, a little faster, a little deeper.

  “Kate, now. I—” Jack’s breaths were shallow through his nose, but he kept the rhythm, bringing me closer and closer to the edge of release. “I’m going to—”

  I cried out, the pressure suddenly exploding inside me, pleasure swamping over me. Jack’s thrusts became crazed, pumping in and out of me, driving my orgasm even as his own consumed him.

  When the last of our ecstasy and energy was spent, I collapsed on top of him, sliding off to his side. Jack kept an arm around me, holding me close as I rested my head on his chest.

  He stroked my hair along the side of my head, my eyes growing heavy with the rise and fall of his breaths.

  “What are the odds?” he said, his voice rumbling in my ear through his chest.

  “Hmm?” So sleepy. The edges of my brain dimmed.

  “The woman I hire to act as my soon to be ex-wife turns out might have been my perfect . . .”

  His words garbled together, the lights in my brain going dark. I felt the press of a kiss on my head, and I could have sworn I heard him whisper, “Guess we’ll never know.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Kate?” I turned at the sound of my name and met the smiling face of a really good-looking guy. “Kate Affetto? You’re Jack’s fiancée, right?”

  I nodded, straightening in my wooden lawn chair. “That’s right. I’m sorry. This is still kind of new to me. You’re one of his pack mates?”

  It was the first moment I’d had to rest all day. Another truth I’d discovered about werewolves was their boundless energy. Even though I’d passed out last night after our bedroom exercise, I was already exhausted again by late afternoon.

  There were a million things to do and Jack seemed to be up for all of them: boating, water skiing, volleyball, and hikes through the woods. Half the family arrived back at Jack’s parents’ house at the crack of dawn only to park their cars and take a shuttle bus into town for shopping.

  Not surprisingly that was the one activity that appealed to me as well. Though Jack decided it would be more fun if we biked the four miles into the sleepy little town of Haven Bay, New York. There were no malls, or chain restaurants in Haven Bay, but there were plenty of family-run shops and a little two-screen movie house, plus some of the best seafood joints in the country. So said their beautifully hand-painted signs.

  There were bed and breakfasts galore and tour boats to any or all of the thousand islands that dotted the massive lake. Stories ran wild about the long history of the town, and more often than not, those stories involved tales about the mystical wolves that roamed the forests and protected the people of Haven Bay.

  By the time we rode back to the house it was after six and the pack was already gathering for another lavish buffet dinner in the huge white tents, under the soft glow of candlelight.

  “Have you eaten?” the hottie stranger asked.

  “No. But Jack . . .” I turned to locate my fiancé and found him deep in conversation with a tall, golden-haired temptress. The woman had curves like an hourglass wrapped in a body-hugging red dres
s. Her legs stretched to her eyeballs, and her fire engine red heels just screamed do me.

  “I should be jealous, right?” the guy asked, and I turned straight in my chair, forcing a smile.

  I swallowed a hiccup of bile then cleared my throat. “I’m sorry. What?”

  “That’s my fiancé,” he said. “The woman your future husband seems to have captivated.”

  A small weight lifted from the pit of my stomach. “Your fiancé? You two are engaged. What did you say your name was?”

  “I didn’t.” He took the chair across from me—Jack’s seat—with the warm fire ablaze in the stone fire pit in front of us. He offered some cheese and crackers from his plate. I shook my head.

  “This is a little awkward,” I said. “Who are you?”

  He was a big guy, taller than Jack by a few inches and at least fifteen pounds heavier. Normally a suit looks odd on a guy his size, like an overstuffed sausage. But enough money and the right tailor could fix any problem.

  His butterscotch hair was long over his ears, wavy down to the top of his suit collar. He’d parted it down the middle, flashing a hint of pale blond roots at the center. He glanced away, as though trying to temper his smile. When he looked back his happy brown eyes met mine. “I’m Marcus.”

  I stiffened. Marcus. The same Marcus who would fight Frank, would fight Jack, for the right to be alpha? Marcus’s smile grew wider.

  “I see you’ve heard of me.” He laughed. “I can just imagine what they must’ve told you.”

  “Can you?” I wasn’t feeling very social suddenly.

  His dark eyes swung up to me, brows high. “I know what I’d tell my fiancé if she knew nothing about my people and our culture. I’d want her to see things my way, even if I had to leave out a few details.”

  “Lucky for me, Jack’s not like that,” I said. “He’s got no reason to leave out any details.”

  Marcus nodded. “Fair enough.” He spotted one of the catering company’s wait staff carrying a tray of champagne glasses, and waved him over. Marcus handed one to me and took one for himself.