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  I nodded, remembering what he had told me about empaths all over the world, and how many of them dedicated their lives to killing “impure” beings.

  “So you basically just have to fight to survive.” Suddenly, the pizza wanted to get its revenge. I didn’t feel to good.

  “Hey, I didn’t mean to scare you.” There was something soft in his voice, and he picked up my hand to his face, pressing his lips against them and closing his eyes for a moment as he kissed it. “But this is what I brought you into. This is why I hate myself.”

  “It’s okay,” I reassured him, even though I had no idea if I’d regret it later. But just seeing him, touching him, made me want to be a part of everything he was a part of, to be in his world and never be out of it.

  “I love you, and this is what I want.”

  “Even if Fun Aim is a super star band?” he said, and though I knew he was trying to joke, I could see a tinge of jealousy in his eyes.

  “Yeah, even if they have millions of dollars and fans. I don’t care.” I scooted even closer to him, so that our sides were pressed up against one another, the warmth from his body transferring over to mine.

  “But seriously,” he said, his tone not changing. “I mean, you did have a thing with Aamir, and you ran off with him and everything…I mean, I tied you to me. I feel like in a way, I forced you to choose me. And that’s not right.”

  The sun at this point was nearly completely submerged in the sea. I rested my head onto Trent’s shoulder, and pulled my arms around his torso, hugging his hard body tight.

  “I’ve always wanted to be with you. And…I mean, I’m not really comfortable talking about Aamir, but yeah, we did have something. But anything I’ve had with any other guy, even Jason…it was because I couldn’t have you. I was just trying to have what I thought you could never give me. Can you blame me?”

  He stayed quiet for a minute. “No, I can’t,” he said finally. “I mean, I get it. I just feel so guilty that I put you through so much.”

  “Yeah well, you kind of had a secret worth keeping,” I pointed out. He pulled his body away from mine, so that he could look down into my face. I nearly lost my breath at the sight of his handsome face, his gunmetal eyes staring down into mine.

  “No more secrets. Anything I feel, I’m going to tell you from now on, I promise,” he said.

  I suddenly felt strange, like him saying that bound me to do the same. I got a flash of the necklace in my mind, but immediately pushed it back. I wondered if I should tell him that I still had a piece of Aamir. But part of me felt like he wouldn’t understand.

  “Okay,” I said, deciding to end the noise in my head by pressing my lips against his. He seemed surprised, but his lips quickly melted into the kiss, and his strong hands moved down my back, folding into the dip of my waist.

  I eagerly brought my hands up into his dark, soft hair and knotted my fingers behind his head, forcing our kiss to be deeper, wetter.

  He pulled away after several wonderful minutes of making out and chuckled. “Maybe we should go somewhere a little more private?”

  I looked over my shoulder to see that the guy and his son had already left, and there was no one on the beach but us.

  “We’re alone!” I teased.

  “Still, you know I’m not a big PDA person.” He looked around back over his shoulder.

  “You could have fooled me with Lola…”

  “Yeah well, she would freak out if I didn’t. I mean, if you’re into that fine—”

  “No,” I laughed, “It’s not my thing either. Why don’t we go beneath the Crab Shack?” I suggested, pointing to the old building on its own little dock above the sand.

  “Alright,” Trent agreed. “Only because the breeze is so nice. Then we should go to your place and finish what we started. He winked suggestively. I watched his gaze go southward to my protruding cleavage and I nudged him.

  “Hey, don’t get fresh with me!”

  We laughed and he picked up the pizza and I picked up the towel, and we ran up the beach, playfully kicking sand in each other’s direction until we reached the quiet, dark haven beneath the crab shack.

  Before I could even get the blanket down on the sand, Trent was on top of me, wrestling me for a kiss. I laughed and he cut my giggles off with a heart-stopping kiss, long and hard, rendering me breathless.

  His thick hands moved up my sides slowly, creeping up inch by inch as his hot tongue probed deeper. I lost myself in his kiss, and was thrilled by his fingers resting just beneath my bust, over my ribs. He moved his hands over my breasts, cupping them in his firm, masculine hands, and I moaned, lost in his tender yet strong touch.

  He moved his mouth down my neck and towards my collar bone. But I wasn’t content, just letting him kiss me as I combed my hands through his hair. I wanted some power of my own. So I pushed his chest and he responded, moving back as I pushed him further onto the sand, bringing my body over his.

  I could tell from the smirk on his face that he liked it, liked me wanting to control him. I kissed him slowly at first, teasing him with kisses that went from his mouth, to his cheek and then down his neck, nibbling him occasionally, just hard enough to make him exhale sharply.

  I brought my hands to his waist, snaking his shirt upwards, pressing my fingers against his warm, radiating flesh. I broke away from kissing his neck to pull his shirt up over his head, and then moved my palms over his pecs, moaning slightly as I kissed the small patch of chest hair between them, moving my lips down to the ridge between his abs.

  He moved his hands through my hair, and I brought my fingers to his waist, greedily undoing his button and betraying my earlier, sultry and in control disposition.

  I brought his pants down slowly, just enough to reveal a slight bulge through his boxers. I pushed two fingers over it, rolling them downwards until my fingers were stopped, caught in the metal zipper.

  “What if someone finds us?” I whispered. Trent sat up and wrapped his arms around me, kissing me on the lips. His bulge pressed against the front of my pelvis, and I shuddered, just imagining his powerful member pulsing through me.

  “I guess we’ll have to be very, very quiet then,” he said, and though I could only see part of his face thanks to the trickle of light coming through the boards from the streetlights, I could tell he was grinning mischievously. I kissed him again, desperate for his taste, and he snaked a finger down the front of my dress, pushing the fabric up over my thigh and pressing against my eager nub of joy. I suppressed a moan and let him know I was enjoying it by dropping my mouth into an “O.” I titled my head back and just let myself enjoy the sensation for a few moments, the hot, greedy lava pulsing through every inch of my body.

  I could hear his breathing getting heavier, and his bulge grew harder against me, the only thing keeping him from entering me was our underwear. I opened my eyes and took in the hungry look on his face, suddenly hungry for a bit of him myself. I brought my right hand down to his crotch and rubbed the hardness beneath his cotton boxers, faster and faster, until I was sure that the friction was doing its job, because a low, gruff noise escaped his lips.

  “We have to be quiet,” I whispered, in love with our dirty game. Trent pressed his finger harder against me, moving it in faster circles, obviously trying to bring me to a breaking point. I bit my lip, desperately trying to fight back.

  I moved my hand under his elastic waistline and freed the tip of his massive, velvety rod. I touch his smooth skin and I could feel him sinking into my touch. I moved my cupped fingers over his tip, and he bucked his hips upwards a little bit, pressing his cock through my hand and sending me bouncing, ever so slightly, up in the air.

  Then he did it again, and again, bouncing me on his lap as we touched each other, mimicking the thrusts of heavenly love-making. I could feel the urge and desperation burst through my core, making my fingers shake slightly as I stroked his manhood faster and faster. I moaned, the hot touch of his fingers causing a beating pulse to grow louder
within me, gripping my muscles and tensing them, causing them to scream silently with pleasure.

  “I’m going to come,” I whispered, and that news must have really turned Trent on, because he groaned a little, moving his hands faster until I burst, squealing as quietly as I could as my muscles exploded with tension and then release, an eruption of pleasure and bliss.

  I huffed for a moment, trying to catch my breath, and Trent kissed me lovingly on the side of my face. I moved off of him, giving myself space so that I could bring his joystick into my eager mouth. He exhaled sharply, and I knew he was almost there.

  I moved gently at first, and then quickly, relishing in the movement of his hardness against my slick mouth, the muscles inside of me still pounding with residual pleasure. He came, gripping my hair and filling my mouth with a warm, sweet and slightly acrid cum. Just feeling him explode inside of me, several times over, sent shivers down my spine. I pulled away and swallowed, surprised by how painless that was. I had managed to avoid swallowing cum my whole life, but I realized for the first time that I might actually kind of like it.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  “Why?” I asked, quickly moving my hands over my mouth in case I had anything on my face. To my relief, I didn’t.

  “Well, because, I should have warned you. It isn’t nice of me to…you know, come in your mouth.” I could tell it was hard for him to say that last part, so I leaned in and pecked him on the mouth, grateful for his thoughtful concern.

  “Don’t worry, I liked it,” I murmured seductively as I pulled away. Then I couldn’t help but laugh at my own behavior. It was just that every second around him turned me on, and I could hardly believe how long I had gone without being in touch with this side of myself.

  “Really?” he sounded surprised, but like he kind of liked it. “Still, we shouldn’t have done that without getting tested.” Before I could respond, though, I heard a noise above our heads. It sounded like someone was walking on the wooden deck over us.

  I grabbed Trent’s hand, fighting back a laugh as I imagined it was probably just some kids tagging up the walls of the old building. But Trent went rigid beside me, and I sensed strong dread and suspicion coming off of him. It was weird, how it felt, hot and uncomfortable.

  Then it came to me. The distinct aura of something non-human, someone wolf-like. I clamped a hand to my mouth, holding back my gasp. But I heard a voice speak, distinctly feminine, that did not belong to whoever we were sensing. There were several more steps coming from another direction, above us but more to the left. There was, at the very least, two people there.

  Trent jerked his head behind us, indicating towards the incline of sand that met with a concrete wall. The ground was elevated, and had the potential to make eaves-dropping easier. While I was afraid of making noise and being caught, I nodded.

  As we climbed up the sand people continued to move around the deck, and the slight breeze brought a rustle through the palm trees that made enough noise to cover any sounds our treading feet would make.

  I was confused, because if we could sense a werewolf, wouldn’t we be sensed? I imagined at the very least, Trent would be. But when I looked to him, he betrayed no emotion. He was poised and listening intently.

  ‘Trent,’ I thought, working my hardest to relay the message over to his mind. ‘Why can’t the werewolf sense us?’ I asked.

  He looked at me for a second. ‘I don’t know. Maybe he or she can but is just letting us eaves-drop.’

  The thought sent chills through my spine. Then someone spoke again. It was the same voice from before—and it struck me with familiarity.

  “So, you’re sure you want to complete this? We need to bound you to her tonight. I’m tired of all this indecision,” she said. Her voice sounded snappy, as if impatient. I searched my mind desperately to figure out where I had heard that voice before. Was it a collective thing? Was I drawing on the pack’s experience so that I could recognize a potential threat?

  “Yes,” the wolf-voice, also distinctly feminine, said. I suddenly had a flash in my mind, coming over from Trent. It was an image of Lola. I shook my head, completely unconvinced.

  ‘We should be able to sense her, right?’

  ‘We should…but it sounds just like her.’

  The steps above us moved towards the shack and further away from us. I heard someone mumble something, someone new and, it seemed, male, and a loud noise, like that of an old, creaky door swinging open.

  The door slammed shut and the voices quieted. I could feel that the werewolf presence had moved into the shack, so I naturally assumed all the others had moved in with her.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ Trent looked at me and I nodded. ‘I want to talk to Mac and Nick about this.’

  I would have normally expected Trent, who can be impetuous and impulsive, to want to check things out, but for some reason his instinct to inform the pack didn’t struck me as odd. It was like I could feel it too, this drive to inform, to protect. I could feel the bond tightening inside of me, and if I listened, if I became attuned to it, it was telling me what to do—to tell the pack.

  Trent took my hand and started walking up towards the parking lot, but I pulled him back down for a second.

  ‘Let’s pick up the stuff. I don’t want there to be evidence we were here.’

  He nodded, and we scurried down the small sand dune to pick up the blanket and pizza box before sneaking out from under the dock and up towards the old wooden staircase in the tall palmetto grass that led up to the parking lot.

  The moment we got back to the pick-up truck, the rain began to pour down, and I could do little but sit and stare out the front of the windshield, the streetlights blending into a wash of green, yellows, and reds before me as the questions reeled through my mind. I looked over to Trent and could see that for him, it was the same.

  Chapter Five

  The next few days was like a wash of emotion and anxiety. We had only spent thirty minutes or so with Nick explaining what had happened. He listened, but I couldn’t help but feel like it was little more than a bunch of hemming and hawing. He had no more of an idea of what was going on than we did. He did say, though, that I was under house arrest. I mean, those weren’t his words exactly. He said something more to the effect of, “it would be best if you left the house as little as possible. For your own safety.”

  So even though Dan had called me and offered me the job, I had to ask that we postpone my first shift for another week, having no idea if I could actually work then or not by Nick’s vague standards. I was really lucky that my barista skills were on point, or else I’d be shit out of luck.

  Or rather, Trent would be shit out of luck. Because I was doing all of this crap for him. And he wasn’t even around. In those three days I hadn’t seen him for more than a collective twenty minutes. He wouldn’t tell me exactly what they were up to, but I gathered that finding Lola was one of their top priorities, because they feared we were under attack as a pack.

  We. Crap. I couldn’t even think about them now without acknowledging that I was a part of the pack.

  I was lounging around the apartment, reading a new series I had heard about online (just after setting up a gynecological appointment—I did feel a little guilty about my carelessness) three days after the night at the beach when Sierra came barging in. I hadn’t seen her in three days either, and I did my best not to think of the possibility that she was sleeping over at my mother’s house. I had been avoiding my mother’s calls, pretending I was super busy, just to avoid confronting the reality of it.

  “Hey,” she said with a smile, and I looked up at her from my reclined position on the couch. I lowered my book and forced a smile back.

  “Hey.”

  “They tell me at work you can’t start until next week because of family issues…so what the hell does that mean?” she asked, pushing my legs over so she could sit beside me on the sofa. I could tell she wasn’t teasing for once.

  “Well…I guess
we haven’t really talked about…stuff.” I tried to fight my urge to be vague, but I couldn’t help it. It was weird, talking about werewolves and demons with someone who wasn’t in the pack.

  “Yeah,” Sierra turned away for a moment. “Stuff.”

  “Okay, okay. I know I’ve been weird lately, I just have no idea what Nick told you, or really anything that’s going on with your life,” I admitted, sitting up and pulling my knees to my chest. “I feel like so much has gone on lately that I don’t even know where to begin.”

  “Same here,” Sierra replied, biting her bottom lip and turning her gaze back towards me.

  “So…what do you know?” I asked, forcing myself to look her straight in the eye.

  “I know that they’re werewolves and Nick’s like…well, he says he’s a demon, but he’s a good one or something, and you’re Trent’s mate,” she laughed nervously at the last bit. I forced a weak smile, but when she saw I wasn’t laughing back, I could see a lump push down her throat. Clearly, I confirmed her fears.

  “And that’s all?” I asked, my mouth and throat feeling dry.

  “Well…basically. And that Aamir is part of some weird group that doesn’t like werewolves.”

  “Yeah. I mean, that pretty much covers it.” It felt weird, talking about it so casually like we were talking about the weather. “I’m going to make some coffee, want any?”

  “Nah,” she said, “but I’ll join you in the kitchen for an energy drink.”

  I laughed a little, genuinely amused by Sierra’s gross addiction. “Alright, let’s settle this weirdness over caffeine.”

  She chuckled in return. “The preferred methods of masochistic baristas.” She followed me into the tiny kitchen, and I as I set up the coffee maker with a filter and ground coffee beans, she rummaged in the fridge for a Red Bull. I knew her method by now even though I pretended to care less—touch every can before deciding which was the coldest.

  I flipped the red switch on the coffee machine just as she popped the tab to her energy drink, taking a quick swig of the pungent, acidic liquid before smiling my way.