Wild Engagement_A Dark Pines Pride Bonus Story Read online

  Chapter Ten

  She gave Nick a shy smile.

  He smiled back. “You are so fucking beautiful, do you know that?”

  “I feel beautiful with you,” she said.

  So sweet—her personality and her scent. He pressed his mouth against her panty-covered mound. He inhaled, pulling in the taste and scent of her. Then a long, slow lick against the lace.

  She shook, so he grabbed her hips to hold her still.

  He wanted her to feel him everywhere, and he wanted to mark her with his scent, with his love, with his teeth. He wanted the entire world to know she was his. But for now, he contented himself with tasting her.

  Pressing a finger along the edge of her panties, he murmured against the lace, “You’re gonna taste so good.”

  “Oh, Nick,” Becca moaned, and the throaty sound went straight to his cock.

  When he shoved the edge of her panties to the side, he smiled when he saw that she was bare. “My woman’s full of surprises, isn’t she?” he said with a dark chuckle.

  “How do you know I’m yours?” she asked, breathless.

  “When you’re moaning my name, that’s my first clue.” He eased one of his fingers inside her and licked along her folds.

  “Nick!” she cried.

  “Yeah, just like that.” He reached down to work his cock out of his jeans, stroking his hand up and down its length. He couldn’t help himself; she made him that horny. Licking and sucking her, he put a second finger inside of her. Pleased with the new intensity to her moaning, he fingered her pussy until she clenched her thighs around him.

  She panted, “I’m gonna—I’m gonna—”

  “Go for it, baby,” he said. “Let yourself go. Come on my face and my fingers.”

  Her walls spasmed around his fingers and she cried out his name again, a long, high wail that made him want to come right then and there. She smelled sexy, she tasted sexy, and she sounded sexy. And the way she looked, all flushed and shaking—well, that was damn sexy, too. And now he wanted to feel her, with all of him.

  Picking her up, he carried her to the living room—awkwardly, with his jeans halfway down his legs—and set her on the couch. He pulled a newly-purchased condom out of his wallet and put it on. She’d told him it wasn’t a bootie call, but yeah, he’d been a hopeful asshole before he came over here, wondering if things would go beyond kissing this time. He sat on the edge of the couch and pulled her onto his lap so she straddled him. She leaned forward and kissed him, and he sucked her tongue into his mouth while he kneaded her ass. He could feel her wiggling closer to his cock, her entrance a hot, tight place rubbing against him.

  Grabbing her hips, he jerked her closer until she was poised right over his length, and then he pulled her down, impaling her on his cock.

  “Mmm, Becca,” he murmured, kissing his way down her throat and to her breasts, which were right there, the perfect height for his mouth.

  He tugged one nipple between his lips and she gasped and rocked up and down on his dick. That felt fucking good, so he did the same with her other nipple, and she did it again.

  “You gonna come again, beautiful?” he asked, before returning to her breasts.

  “Yeah,” she said.

  “Good.” He reached between them and rubbed his finger over her clit, which was slippery with her arousal.

  “Oh,” she said, moving up and down on him even faster.

  It wouldn’t be long before she came again, if the way her pussy was squeezing him was any indication. He pressed more sucking kisses to her nipples while keeping his hand on her clit, and suddenly she cried out and shook. He held her tight, enjoying the way she continued to move over him even while she was coming. Before she could get too sensitive, he pumped hard, just a few more times, before crushing her to his chest and emptying inside of her. “Becca,” he said as he came. “Becca.”

  They sat locked like that for several minutes, before Becca whispered, “Bed. And you’re staying over.”

  “Yeah?” he asked.

  “Mm-hmm. Upstairs.”

  Nick chuckled and picked her up, kicking his jeans and boxer briefs off the rest of the way so he was naked. Cradling her to his chest, he walked upstairs. “Which room?”

  “Go right. Then past the little sitting room there.”

  “Damn, your house is huge.”

  “I guess,” she said. “I mean, I know it is, but I try not to think about it anymore.”

  He saw a door partway open at the end of the hall. “That one yours?” he asked.

  “Yep.” She snuggled closer to his chest.

  He carried her inside and helped her climb into bed. Her room smelled like her, with faint traces of sandalwood. It was Nick’s own personal version of paradise.

  He saw a bathroom off to one side, and stepped in for a second to dispose of the condom. Then he climbed into bed next to Becca. “How come you try not to think about your house anymore?”

  “Because I’m lazy. I want to sell it and get a smaller place, but I’ve just never been able to do it.”

  “Why do you want a smaller place?” he asked. “I was looking around when I came over. You’ve got gorgeous views and tons of property out here, no nosy neighbors...”

  “It’s too big for one person, that’s all.”

  Her voice was brisk. Final. He decided to let it go. Instead, he pulled her closer, spooning her so he could press his nose against the back of her neck. She fit against him like she was born to be there.

  “I gotta tell you something,” Nick whispered.

  “What is it?”

  “Downstairs, in your living room with you,” he said, “that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

  He didn’t expect her to agree—after all, she’d been married before. So when she said, “Same here,” and his shifter senses told him she was telling the truth, he fell asleep, holding her and smiling.

  NICK HAD ENDURED SOME pretty low moments in his life. Pain, back in his old pack ruled by a crooked alpha. Discouragement, when he hadn’t been able to find Hayley for so long. Depression, when he’d belonged to the shifters-only MMA circuit. He’d made dumb-ass mistakes, and painful mistakes, and suffered accordingly.

  So it was pretty fucking hard to believe that right now, curled within his embrace, was a woman so pure and perfect for him. Becca.

  She moved in his arms, snuggling closer to rest her cheek against his chest.

  Never before had he felt so fucking responsible and important. He mattered. He fucking mattered. His chest felt like it was swelling to five times its size.

  He could face his demons and fight, or he could be afraid for the rest of his life. In being afraid, he’d lose this intelligent, beautiful, funny woman. Nope, not a chance. He’d fight.

  No running. He’d figure his shit out so he could be good enough for her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Becca had spent the past two days in her house, and as long as Nick kept showing up after work in the afternoons, she’d be content to never leave again. She knew this phase of a relationship—the “honeymoon phase”—and damn, she loved it. Discovering new things they had in common, having sex all the time, joking and laughing, teasing, cooking together...staying the night.

  Nick had spent both Tuesday and Wednesday nights with her. It felt like so long since she’d had a man in her bed, holding her while she slept. How had she ever thought she was happy, even content, without that?

  “Because millions of women the world over do not need a man, and neither do I,” Becca admitted to herself. “But dammit, I want him.”

  And that would have to be good enough reasoning. She didn’t want to over-think this new relationship or over-analyze it. She just wanted to enjoy it, and enjoy Nick.

  He’d texted her after finishing up the odd jobs he was doing for Hayley and Marius. Is there anything I can pick up at the store?

  She wrote back, If you see a handsome guy, about your height, with brown eyes and a cock that I worship,
just make sure he gets here. I ordered a new dress and it came today, and I have something I want to give him.

  Nick: Can’t text, I’m speeding over.

  She laughed and did a little spin in front of the mirror. Her light blue sundress flared out, making her feel curvy and sexy.

  When the doorbell rang a few minutes later, she was already downstairs, waiting. She opened the door and giggled at the expression on Nick’s face.

  “You look fucking hot,” he said, standing before her in his dirty jeans and smudged t-shirt.

  “You look like a fantasy handyman in one of those cheesy pornos,” she said.

  “So you have some experience watching those pornos, huh?”

  She felt her cheeks get hot with a blush. “Maybe.”

  His eyes darkened to a richer shade of brown and he gave her a slow smile. “Such a sexy little freak. Come here and let me check out the inside of that dress.”

  HOURS LATER, BECCA’S new sundress lay forgotten on the living room floor and she wore nothing but her panties and Nick’s shirt. It smelled like him, which made her feel wonderful.

  Seeing him shirtless, in only a pair of pants, reminded her of the night she’d hit him with her car.

  “So what gives?” she asked, pointing to his shoulder. “Do you have a bionic arm or something?”

  “What?” he asked, laughing.

  “I hit you with my car. I had to be going, what, thirty-five at least, right?”

  “Nah,” he said, “I don’t think you were going over twenty-five. It just glanced off of me.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember. She couldn’t picture him at all—what she pictured was a dog. “It’s so strange,” she said. “I don’t remember seeing you there. I saw a dog.”

  He went still. After a pause, he said, “You’re thinking too hard.”

  But his gaze was going down and to the side of her.

  Becca sat up straighter. He was lying to her. She knew the signs—she’d studied body language to help become a more effective attorney. And the way he went still and paused, as well as the way he looked off to the left, had all her alarm bells ringing.

  “Nick,” she said slowly, “why are you lying to me?”

  “What? I’m not,” he said.

  Now his eye contact was too direct.

  “You are. I can tell.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing.” She stepped forward, and he was forced to step back.

  He held his arms up defensively, but no. Just no. Becca had been around enough scum in the courtroom to know she didn’t want a dishonest man. She’d seen what Dickbag Cory had done to Summer. This shit would never fly with her, and as much as she felt her heart breaking, she wasn’t going to stay with a guy who couldn’t tell her the truth.

  “Please,” she said, pointing to the door, “just go. I can’t do this right now. I can’t do this ever.”

  He opened the door and stepped outside, but he kept his hand on the frame. “Becca—”

  “No. I need honesty and I don’t want to have to fight for it.” She could barely see, her eyes were so full of tears, but her traitorous body sensed the moment Nick was out of reach, and she closed the door, confident that he was gone.

  Then, still wearing his t-shirt and his scent, she sat down in front of the door and sobbed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Nick woke up in the Chevrolet Spark, scrunched into the front seat and feeling like absolute shit. He hadn’t been able to make himself drive home from Becca’s street last night, so he’d parked on a deserted logging access road not far from her place.

  Why had he lied to Becca? It hadn’t felt like the right time to tell her. No, that wasn’t it, not if he was honest with himself. He knew she could handle the truth of his nature, the truth of his wolf. She even had a ready-made support system with her best friend being mated to a shifter. So it wasn’t that.

  It was fear. Once again, he’d let fear keep him from doing the right thing. Being honest, telling her everything—his heart was at risk.

  He wanted to create a doppelganger of himself just so he could punch himself. What a fucking idiot he was.

  He couldn’t bear the thought of being without her. Which was part of the reason he had a giant crick in his neck, from sleeping in a stupid, fluorescent green car the size of a firefly.

  When he’d first arrived at the Seattle bus station, there’d been a weirdo standing outside, yammering about how everyone should buy his mason jars of health juice. “Health juice!” he’d shouted in his gravelly voice. “Pure and perfect, just as nature intended! Protects your brain from government invasion!” The health juice had looked like piss and smelled just about as appetizing. If Nick couldn’t get Becca back, he was going to end up like that guy, guzzling away a dream of a better life.

  He had to get her back. Step one, though, was resolving his shitty mistakes from before he’d met her.

  Picking his phone up from where it rested on the passenger seat, he looked at the time. Seven-thirty a.m. So, nine-thirty in Wisconsin. Late enough to call—he didn’t want to risk pissing Christian off even more by waking him up early.

  Nick found the number in his call log and dialed.

  “What,” Christian demanded.

  “It’s Nick,” he said. “I can give it back to you. Just wanted to say—”

  “Too late, asshole.” The call ended.

  Nick stared at his phone screen. That was it? How could he fix things if Christian wouldn’t talk? He tried calling again, but the phone rang and rang. It didn’t even go to voicemail.

  If Christian wouldn’t let him make amends, maybe it meant Christian didn’t care anymore.

  Either that, or Christian was still coming to get him. In which case, Nick was fucked.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Becca didn’t like feeling needy. She never had. Even with Grant, she’d maintained a proper distance. Happy to see him, always enjoyed spending time with him. But if one of them had a business trip or they had to separate for a few days, it wasn’t the end of the world.

  She’d kicked Nick out of her house two days ago, and it felt like the fucking end of the world.

  Her phone buzzed with another text. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to block Nick’s texts and calls, but every time he sent one, a fresh stab of pain went to her heart.

  “I hate this,” she muttered, scrubbing the mac-n-cheese remains off of a pot. Yeah, it had been a boxed mac-n-cheese day. And she’d made it for breakfast. So what—no one was around to judge her. Sometimes a little artificial cheese and dairy was just the thing to work through boy trouble.

  Her mac-n-cheese-induced conclusion: Maybe she was going to lose Nick. Fine, she barely knew the guy.

  Okay, that was a lie. Her heart hurt like a thousand fashion models were stomping on it while wearing their highest heels.

  It was so much safer and easier to push people away. Becca had just done it with Nick, although, for his really weird dishonesty, he deserved it. But there was one person who didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. One person Becca had been distancing herself from since last October.

  Summer.

  Becca could lose Nick, but she wasn’t going to lose Summer. Before she could overthink it, she dialed Summer’s phone number.

  Summer picked up immediately. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “It’s so good to hear your voice,” Becca said.

  “You too, friend,” Summer said, her voice warm. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah...no. I miss you. I sent Nick away, and it got me thinking...” She trailed off. This conversation felt too heavy for the phone.

  “You sound like you need a cupcake, cupcake,” Summer said.

  Becca sighed. “Yeah, but if I make them, I’ll just eat them all.”

  “There’s that new place, haven’t you seen it?”

  “No...” Becca had been too busy with work to notice much going on in Huntwood the past few weeks. Most
of that time had been spent getting Summer’s money back from her douchey ex.

  “It’s near the diner. Meet me there? Fifteen minutes?” Summer sounded like she was holding her breath, like she thought Becca would say no.

  It made Becca’s heart hurt even more. She’d been blowing off Summer in the worst way, the past few months. In a rush, Becca said, “I’ll be there.”

  THE TINY CUPCAKE SHOP held only three tables and a total of eight chairs. Three men sat at one of the tables, but it looked like they were getting ready to leave. Becca took in the bright pink and purple decor, from the striped wallpaper to the art on the walls. Standing in here was like standing on the inside of a cupcake.

  The door opened behind her and she turned around.

  “What do you think of this place?” Summer asked.

  “It’s very...sweet,” Becca said.

  Summer snorted. “I know, right? But at least they have good taste in art.”

  Summer pointed to one of the framed pieces on the wall, and Becca felt her eyes widen as she recognized the whimsical colors and shapes. “That’s one of your collages!”

  “Yeah,” Summer said, her voice proud. “Anyway, let’s grab some cupcakes and sit down.”

  Becca chose a red velvet cupcake, and Summer picked something called “chocolate, chocolate, and more chocolate.” They sat down with coffee and their cupcakes and faced each other. Becca felt shy—she wasn’t sure where to start. She picked at her cupcake.

  “Okay,” Summer said, “you know you don’t have to say a word. But...I’m going to wonder until you do.”

  Becca couldn’t help her laugh, but she sobered instantly. “He’s lying to me. It’s killing me to ignore his calls and texts, but he straight up lied. And you know I can tell.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Summer said.

  “I just don’t get it. All I wanted to know was how he wasn’t hurt. I hit him with my car. I was driving. He said I was only going twenty-five miles an hour. I think I was going forty—at minimum, thirty-five. He was bleeding. Then later, not even a scratch. I mean, I got naked with him, and there’s not even a scar.”