Undone By Destiny Page 4

  Surreptitiously consulting the tags in Desi’s shredded clothing, he managed to find a few things in her size—the important items brand new, heaped in a straw basket on top of a circular rack. He dropped the ruined clothes into a convenient trash can, before worrying that the inquisitive teenager running the consignment store might fish them out. He could envision the interested girl speculating that he’d stolen a woman and torn her clothes off. And done Lord knew what else to her. His actions were was as close to kidnapping in the modern shifter world as anything else, so he supposed it wasn’t farfetched thinking.

  “Twenty-seven ninety-five.” The girl studied the clothing and then him. “You got any shoes to go with this stuff?”

  Desi’s shoes probably weren’t going to match the stuff, and he gloomily shook his head.

  “What size she wear?”

  “No clue.” That pretty much summed him up.

  “There’s some new flip flops in a bin over there. Small, medium and large. Extra-large.”

  He poked through the contents of the container and conjured up another vision of his mate’s feet. Long and slender. He picked out a size large in a shocking shade of pink with little stars dotted over the straps and chose an extra-large pair in yellow with a butterfly embellishment.

  “Best take a medium in the green, so as you don’t offend her,” Miss Practical Upsell said, and he snatched them too. Frogs? “Only two-ninety-five.”

  They smelled strongly of rubber and plastic as she tucked them into a separate bag, and he passed over his credit card.

  “Cash only, mister.”

  He offered fifty bucks and while she was making change, plucked a wire hanger from the rack closest to him. “How much for this?”

  “What you gonna do with it?”

  “I locked keys in a car.”

  Her cute features scrunched up in thought. “Jimmy at the garage could help. Where you living?”

  Right. Pull up to the cabin with Jimmy from the garage right behind him, and exacerbate the total fuck up that was his current situation. The visual made his eye twitch. He stuck the hanger back. “I’m good.”

  “Nah. It’s on the house.” She gestured at the rack and he snagged the makeshift jimmy back with a nod of appreciation.

  Tossing the sack in with the groceries, he drove back to the cabin, wondering if she was awake. It was getting late and maybe he could put a meal together. The thought of taking care of his mate warmed his belly.

  As he was transferring the bags to the porch, his cell buzzed. Jett. Fuck, he should have called. “Sorry, Alpha. We’re at the cabin.”

  A chuckle filled his ear. “My mother couldn’t reach Desi. But I figured she was with you and you were making progress.”

  Good thing someone had faith in him. “It’s done. Almost.”

  “You’ve claimed her.” Was that hostility in his Alpha’s voice?

  “She’s mine,” he said, careful to keep any note of defensiveness from his voice.

  Jett sighed gustily. “My little sister. I’m fucking ambivalent, Tahl, I don’t mind saying, despite giving you my blessing. But hey, man. Welcome to the family, officially.”

  “Thanks. I think.”

  His Alpha laughed again. “I mean it, Tahl. I’ll pass the word. Take your time coming home.”

  No way was he sharing his predicament. He’d make this right. “I’ll let Desi know her—our—family was asking.”

  She was still sleeping, in much the same position as he’d left her in. Setting the sack filled with her new clothes on the dresser, he perched beside her for a few minutes, breathing in her scent, listening to her steady, long breaths. Her classic features were beautiful in repose, and so relaxed. He doubted that he would see that particular visage for some time. Regretfully, he shoved to his feet and went to the kitchen.

  He’d cobbled together a fairly impressive meal, comprised of a loaded salad, potatoes au gratin—albeit out of a box—and had marinated two fine steaks when he heard her stirring. The “homemade” cherry crumble had been a last minute addition from the grocer’s shelf to go with the gourmet vanilla ice cream. He knew Desi’s favorite foods, and a full belly wouldn’t be amiss.

  As badly as he wanted to go to her, he throttled back and waited for her to come to him. Water ran in the back of the cabin while he set the table, and a few minutes later, she hesitantly stepped through the doorway. His gut suddenly roiling, Tahl drank in the view. A threadbare robe swathed her slenderness and trailed to her ankles, probably something Jett had left behind.

  She avoided his gaze, staring around the living area. Speaking in a near whisper, she said, “I was looking for my clothes.”

  “I … uh, tossed them. They weren’t wearable.”

  “Right.”

  “I left you some new things in the bedroom.”

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  He’d become used to the aloof Desi over the past while, a studied indifference she affected around him. He remembered flirtatious, fiery Desi, someone he was certain still existed under the cold armor. The one who’d cared about him, and not in a sisterly way. But this was uncertain Desi, and he didn’t care for it. He moved around the table and pulled her close, feeling her tremble.

  Against her hair, he said, “Are you all right?”

  She stiffened and pulled away. Okay, wrong thing to say. “I’m fine. As fine as being thrust into a brand new stage of my life without being consulted can be fine.”

  “Our life, baby.” He might not always choose the right words, but he recognized the need for clarity. It was probably not the time to remind her he’d tried to convince her earlier.

  With a miserable glance, she went to the sink and turned the water on. Filling a glass, she sipped at it, keeping her back to him. He knew she was crying and faltered. Tears unmanned him. He grabbed the steaks and put them on the grill, giving her time to compose herself. He’d gladly soothe her but knew she didn’t want him near at the moment.

  “A few minutes and the meat will be done.”

  “Sure.” She set the glass down and faced him. Aside from a slight reddening of her lower lids, she appeared remarkably composed.

  “Why don’t you take a seat?” After what they’d recently shared, he sounded ridiculously formal.

  “Thanks.” Apparently, her previous, bitter statement had reduced her to singular responses.

  “We need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  His temper stirred, warring with his effort to make amends. He forked the meat onto a cutting board to let it rest so it would bleed satisfactorily on their plates instead and set it in the middle of the table. Taking the potatoes from the oven, he carefully lowered them to a space equidistant between them, and then went to get the salad from the fridge. “You want dressing? Ranch or Blue Cheese?”

  “Blue Cheese. Thanks.” Progress.

  As he took his place, she shifted uneasily in her chair, and he scented faint arousal. “Eat, Desi. I’ll bet you haven’t had anything much today.” He managed not to say that she’d need the energy, not wanting to be the one to bleed on the table, as she picked up her steak knife.

  They ate in silence for a few minutes, wordlessly spooning potatoes onto their plates and sharing out the salad. The meat was properly cooked, and consuming the repast kept their attention before he tried again. “Jett called. Maybe you want to speak to him yourself. Or your mom. Maybe River.”

  “And tell them what? Jett gave you the keys to this cabin. You think I don’t know what that means? And River doesn’t need a reminder of how a mating isn’t supposed to play out.”

  “I’m sorry.” He suspected that would be his go-to expression for the next, say, fifty years or more. “Jett will tell them. And your mom.”

  “Great.” She pushed her plate away, wiping her mouth on a paper towel instead of a napkin. Sue him, he’d done pretty well remembering to buy even them.

  “Desiree… It’s done. Except for the actual claiming.”

  Her
hand lifted instantly to her neck, her slender fingers searching. “Why didn’t you get it over with?”

  On a deep breath, he said. “Because I want it to mean something to you, other than another necessary part of our connection.”

  “Well, good luck with that.” She caught her breath and pressed a fist against her belly. She doubled over it and whimpered.

  “Desi—”

  “Stop it!” She pushed up from the table, her chair toppling over and the china rocking with the vehemence of her actions. “Just make this go away, this insane need I have, that you caused. Fix it.”

  At a loss, he stood and reached out, but she batted his hand aside, turning on her heel to flee toward the bedroom. He followed, catching up with her as she gained the doorway. Catching her arm, he spun her around and shook her gently. “Look at me.”

  “I don’t want to look at you. I haven’t wanted to look at you in years. But you just couldn’t give it a rest.” She sobbed and collapsed against him and he bore her heated weight into the bedroom and tumbled her onto the mattress.

  Her obvious arousal shut down any additional conversation and he strove to ignore her outburst. She was obviously hurting and the fact she’d gutted him didn’t dampen his desire for her. Stick prick, no conscience and all that.

  Shoving the skirt of her robe up around her waist, he made himself take the time to lavish tender kisses on her smooth belly. It was far from a hardship to taste the faint salt of her skin and follow the enticing aroma of her need to her apex. With Desiree moaning and writhing beneath his ministrations, Tahl explored her swollen folds with his tongue. He slid his hands beneath her full buttocks to lift her higher for his touch, feasting on the tender tissue slick with her cream.

  When her hands finally found his head, fingers working through his hair, he gave her the orgasm she’d been begging for, her touch soothing his beleaguered wolf. Tahl the man was gratified to hear her scream his name, and he lunged up and over her, one hand scrabbling with his fly to release his howling cock.

  Grasping his shaft, he fit in against her pulsing opening and carefully inched inside, aided by her slippery lubrication. She whimpered, but her thighs fell wider and lifted to close around his hips, drawing him deeper. He set his hands on either side of her shoulders, staring into her beautiful face, but her eyes remained closed against him. He lowered to kiss her, but she rolled her head from side to side, panting frantically.

  Probably, it was better that way—that he couldn’t see into her soul. At least not until the despair he sensed wouldn’t be written for anyone to read. Even someone as dense as him. His wolf drove him onward, though he lagged, and he began to thrust with increasingly vigorous strokes.

  As she’d done earlier, Desiree met him, her body moving instinctively to increase the friction and their pleasure. His orgasm warned, gathering at the base of his spine.

  “Bite me. Please.” Her desperate plea registered through his narrowing senses. “Give me a child.”

  Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he held his release off. Blind need drove him, like his wolf, and he granted her wish. Her tender flesh scored easily beneath his canines, and the instant connection, fuelled by the tangy taste of her blood, shoved him over the cliff of climax.

  Desiree screamed, her throat working against the raw sensations before she came again, squeezing his cock tighter than a vise. With a shudder, he collapsed, using the last of his coherence to ease to the side and spare her his entire weight.

  As the room came back into focus, he realized he hadn’t taken the time to strip down, his wolf mourning the lack of skin to skin contact.

  “Baby?” He raised up on one elbow and studied her face. She was asleep again, drained by the intensity of their sex.

  The angry mark on her neck glowed, even in the dim light, and while his wolf reveled at the sight, Tahl uneasily intuited that the evidence of his claim could spell the beginning of the end. He desperately hoped that Desiree wouldn’t pervert their connection, but knew he had to be prepared for that possibility.

  Leaving her to whatever dreams she was immersed in, he rolled off the bed, tucking his sated cock away. He’d deal with the dishes and put away the food, then fetch his go-bag, see if he could get her purse from her car. Shoulders slumped with exhaustion, he made his way to the kitchen. He’d created this mess—all of it—and it was up to him to clean it up.

  Chapter Four

  Desiree shoved a tendril of hair from her eyes after she pried them open, and then sorted out where she was. The preceding events from the last twenty-four hours slammed into her with enough force to steal her breath. She couldn’t shield against them, her head throbbing before the onslaught. Her body echoed and underscored her new reality, her heat like a residual flame, but without the mindless, driving and desperate need that had stolen her control.

  Accepting what was done, was done, she parceled up the more debilitating emotions and focused on the practical. Regardless of what some other people thought, she had an analytical brain and the time spent huddled and waiting on the couch hadn’t been wasted, even distracted as she’d been by that insane arousal. Her lips twisted when her fingertips drifted over the healing bite on her neck. At least that was over. Tahl had assuaged her need—thoroughly—and his claim was complete. Conception could occur during first claiming, so if she was lucky…

  “You’re awake.” His quiet observation made her start and automatically yank the sheet up to her chin. Not that he hadn’t seen every inch of her. Her face flushed at the recollection of stripping for him, begging…

  “I’ll get up.”

  “I’m making coffee. Take your time.”

  Staring after his tall form, she asked herself how he could look so composed. It wasn’t fair, none of it, as she’d told him, and she added another tick against him. She was a simmering, sticky wreck, this time her wolf seeking its mate, and he was fresh from a shower, sauntering around without a care in the world.

  At least she hadn’t lost her shit when he appeared. Enough of the drama. She knew this aloof side of her was pretty fragile, but it was the one she’d shown Tahl since he’d returned and would continue to show him. The outrage she’d expressed was counterproductive, and a volatile Desiree was a vulnerable Desiree. Not happening. She clambered from the bed and headed for the shower, taking advantage of the abatement of her heat to think harder about her future, ignoring the sad whimper from her heart.

  The needles of the fine spray from the showerhead prickled against her skin as she cleansed her body, saving her hair until last. The tenderness of the junction between her legs made her hiss with discomfort and worked a sly finger beneath the tight wrap she’d put on her feelings, to tug and unravel the bandage. Losing her virginity hadn’t been the most pleasurable experience, despite the numbing of her arousal, but she knew Tahl had done his best to make it good for her once he understood.

  Lathering her hair, she wrenched her mind away from considering how skilled he’d been, despite the hasty couplings required to dampen her agonizing need. In truth, all her body required was his seed to calm her, but he’d ensured she got hers—two stupendous orgasms, or was it three? With an exasperated huff, she rinsed and felt for the conditioner. She’d never forgive him. Never. No matter how talented he was, sexually. After all, he’d gained that knowledge by— Nope. Not going there.

  Toweling off, and then shrugging into the robe Jett had left behind on one of his visits, she approached the sack on the dresser. She plucked the garments out, one by one, and winced. It was no accident her mother owned a boutique, and Desi dressed accordingly. All the women in their family were clothes horses, and Desi, in particular, loved sumptuous fabrics and style. The short-sleeved, white blouse was sewn from some blend of fibers she’d never heard of—at least not in that combination—and the little, flirty, pink skirt was… Well, she didn’t have the words.

  “Wasn’t a lot of choices.” Jeez. You’d think he was part cat, although wolves could sneak up on the
ir prey too. Not that she was his prey, no matter what he thought. He closed the distance and said, “I brought you a coffee. White, two sugars. And your purse. It was in your car and I thought you might want your phone … and other stuff.”

  Sweet coffee was one of the few treats she allowed herself, and the fact he knew how she took it might have softened her—if she was in the mood to let him past her defenses. And at the moment she wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, phone or no phone. She gestured at the skirt and blouse. “Thanks. And the clothes are fine. It’s not like I’ll be wearing them for long.”

  Silence stretched, far too long as she heard the words like a distant echo. Color stained her cheeks. She could feel the blood rushing to her face, and Tahl grinned, though his eyes were wary. She stared him down. “I meant I’d be changing soon. Into my own clothes. At home.”

  “Get dressed. I’ll make some eggs.” Handing her the mug, he sauntered off, the picture of arrogance.

  She took a thoughtful sip of her coffee, pretending she hadn’t wanted to jump his bones, a flare of heat in her core making a liar out of her. Though she wasn’t as—desperate. Not at all. This felt more like the way she usually felt in his presence, though she took care to hide it from him and everyone else. Even herself. So maybe…

  When shifters conceived, their heat cycle eased almost immediately. The bite on her neck flared as if in sympathy with her hope and she closed her eyes. Please let it be true. She couldn’t keep her guard up around Tahl forever. And if she was pregnant that meant he alone had assuaged her need and there was no need to call upon any single males to assist. Small mercies, this current misguided connection being enough to bear. It was her pride hurting, nothing else, and she’d hang onto that premise and try to turn the situation to her advantage.

  Expecting a sports bra, maybe, and a pair of basic white panties, her breath caught when she shook some scraps of lingerie out of the sack. Pale blue with wisps of lace. After tearing off the tags, she stepped into the underwear, skimming them up her legs. They were as light as cobwebs, as was the matching bra, though it had unobtrusive banding to support breasts heavier than hers. Regardless, they didn’t begin to compare to the outfit on the bed.