Chapter 10

10

LARKIN

M y legs were jelly the rest of the day. Rhodes smirked the whole time he helped me get my pants back on, his fingers ‘accidentally’ brushing places that had my nerve endings waking up all over again.

I had reached for him, wanting to return the favor, but he shot me down with a quick kiss, telling me there was no rush.

Which was good since I was pretty sure my knees wouldn’t have supported my weight for what I intended to do.

We hung out in the garage again. Rhodes worked on his motorcycle while I handed him random tools. The only difference now was when he stood up to walk around me, I usually got a kiss out of it.

That, and I finally had my best friend back.

It felt like old times, chatting and joking, an oldies rock station playing from the radio on the workbench.

I watched the muscles in his arm strain as he tightened a bolt. I could watch him do this all freaking day.

“Were you serious about being a janitor?” I asked, finally asking the question that had been bugging me since our chat in the snow days earlier. “I mean, I know you don’t want to go to college, but is that what you’re going to do the rest of your life?” I tried my best to hide the disappointment in my tone.

Career day had always been fun at school. I loved imagining what I could be in the future, but Rhodes had always taken it as a joke, laughing off the future whenever it was brought up.

One year he said he wanted to raise llamas, the next year he wanted to be a full time lifeguard. Every year it got sillier and more ridiculous, always earning a laugh from kids in our class and even the teachers. But Rhodes never committed to anything.

He pressed his mouth together, grunting as he kept tightening. “Mr. Forbes asked me to come work at the garage. I might apprentice there this summer. He’s getting older, so maybe I would run that one day? I don’t know. It would be kind of cool to have my own garage.”

“That would be awesome,” I agreed quickly. I could see him doing that. He had some stupidly natural gift with engines and motors; he understood them. I had seen how excited he got when working on a new project, spending hours online to read up about styles and trim and a whole lot of other stuff I was completely oblivious to. “But you know you could always take classes, too. Get a business degree to go with it?”

He gave me a look. “I know. If I want to, I can go to the community college in Nelson.”

I kept smiling. Kept nodding. “Right.”

He set the wrench down, giving me his full attention. “Lark, I told you—college and I aren’t the best fit.”

“Unless you’re screwing copious amounts of sorority girls?” I snarked, remembering what he said the day before.

“I didn’t know you were joining a sorority,” he replied instantly, flashing me a warm grin.

Damn, he was good.

He stood up, coming over and kissing me again, his mouth firm on mine. “You’re the only girl I plan on screwing.”

“Good answer,” I whispered, trying to control the flock of birds that took flight in my stomach.

Still grinning, he headed to the work bench and pulled out another tool before heading back to the bike.

“But it could be fun,” I said slowly. “Remy and Skye, you and me? We could all stay together. Katy said Maren is thinking about coming down here for college, too.”

When the Blackwater pack started attending Washington State Eastern University several decades back, they still kept their distance from the normals on campus. The pack had bought a couple of smaller houses on the fringes of the college town for students to use. Over the years they had become unofficial dorms for the pack to use at school.

As if on cue, my phone went off, alerting me to a new text message.

SKYE: I think I hate snow.

I laughed down at my phone.

“What?” Rhodes asked.

I waved the phone. “Skye. She hates snow.”

LARKIN: Why?

SKYE: I haven’t seen Remy in over 24 hours. Also, it’s freaking cold. We didn’t have snow in the south.

LARKIN: You could always shift and go to his house…

SKYE: I would, but there’s been some power outages and stuff happening. He’s been helping his dad and the Council.

LARKIN : Ah, yes. The life of the Alpha’s mate.

SKYE: ... so I need to get used to it?

LARKIN: Probably

SKYE: What about you? I can always shift and come over to hang out.

I glanced at Rhodes. As much as I wanted to hang out with my best girl, I loved the alone time with my best boy.

SKYE: U still there?

LARKIN: I’m hanging out with Rhodes

SKYE: Reeeeeeeally? How’s that going?

I bit my lip, wanting to tell her everything and wanting to tell her nothing.

Right now Rhodes and I existed in a perfect bubble.

LARKIN: Really good.

SKYE: Like REALLY good? Or really good?

LARKIN: REALLY REALLY

SKYE: You better call me with all of the details later!

LARKIN: I will. Promise.

I put my phone back in my pocket.

“How’s Skywalker?” he asked, glancing up with a grin.

“Good. Hating the snow. Missing Remy.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know how they do it.”

I leaned forward, head cocked to the side. “Do what?”

“The whole mate bond,” he said, exhaling loudly. “I don’t know how Remy can handle not being with her all the time. I mean, I hated being away from you when I was taking a shower so—”

“Really?” I asked curiously, my body warming.

His hot gaze landed firmly on me. “Really.” Then he gave a small shrug. “It’s probably why he asked her to move in with him when we get back to school.”

That caught my attention. Skye hadn’t mentioned that. “He did?”

Rhodes nodded. “She isn’t sure if she’s ready for the move-in stage yet, but the offer is on the table.”

“Where would you go?” I asked curiously.

“Hand me a screwdriver?” he asked, reaching a hand out. He waited until I handed it to him before continuing. “I could go to the dorms, but Remy said he wanted me to stay. There’s plenty of room. We’ll see.”

“It would be weird not rooming with her,” I murmured, toying with the end of my braid. “I mean, I’ve only known her a few months, but Skye is... she’s one of my best friends. It’s like having a sister.”

“You guys wouldn’t need to share a room this semester anyway,” he reminded me, tossing the screwdriver aside. “There’s going to be plenty of rooms.”

I scooped it up and put it back in the tool box. “Because of the packs that left?”

He nodded, wiping his dirty hands on a rag. “Gabe said that half the packs have pulled out of the school charter. They’re starting their own school, probably in Canada or Michigan. Around the lakes.”

“No more Trace,” I whispered, relief filling every part of me.

His face tightened with anger, his eyes going flat and hard. “Unfortunately that means I’ll have to drive to New York to kick his ass.”

“Skye seems like she’s doing okay,” I said slowly. When I thought of how close she had come to dying, it still made me sick. I hated that I had been sitting in class when she and Rhodes were attacked.

“Skye isn’t the only one he hurt,” Rhodes said coldly, tossing the rag down with more force than necessary.

“I’m okay, too,” I told him gently.

Except for the nightmares.

In my nightmares, Skye didn’t interrupt him. In my nightmares, he never stopped.

Shuddering, I stood up and wrapped my arms around myself.

Rhodes swore under his breath, coming over and pulling me into his embrace, his arms banding around me like steel.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there,” he whispered, emotion choking his tone.

My arms went around his waist, taking comfort in the shelter he offered. “It’s over. And Trace lost. Now he can’t hurt any of us anymore.”

“Remy said Skye still has nightmares about what happened to her before,” Rhodes said quietly, his lips moving against my hair as he spoke.

I hated the lingering bits of trauma from what Trace had done. Logically I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, but the shame and self-doubt was still there in the dark moments.

But it was harder to feel those moments around Rhodes.

I pulled away from him, and he let me go. His dark eyes watched me walk across the room.

“I have nightmares sometimes, too,” I admitted hoarsely. “It helps knowing I won’t have to see him again.”

He was practically vibrating with rage, but he was swallowing it down for me.

“I’m here for whatever you need, baby,” he vowed gently. “If you ever want to talk, or need something, I’m here. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him before.”

I walked slowly back to him. “I know. And having you here helps.” I sighed as his arms surrounded me again. “I’ve missed being able to talk to you.”

He kissed my forehead, and I tipped my head back, offering my mouth to him.

He didn’t hesitate to kiss me fully, his lips hungrily moving over mine until my knees started going back to their gelatinous state.

I knew his hands were smeared with grease and dirt, and probably ruining my clothes, but I didn’t really care as his fingers dug into my hips, pulling me as close as our clothes would allow.

The song on the radio changed, something with a deeper bass and heavier tone that had me rolling my hips against his. I gasped when he fisted my braid, yanking my head to the side to attack my neck. His teeth scraped down my skin as he backed me up until my butt hit the workbench ledge.

His hands tightened and he moved to lift me up, but I pulled back, stepping around him so his back was to the work bench.

“Wait,” I panted, a hand pressed to his chest.

His eyes glittered, but he did as I asked. His chest heaved as I stepped back and licked my lips.

“Can I...” I exhaled slowly, pulling myself together. “Can I touch you?”

He visibly swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nodded slowly.

I stepped forward, resting my hand against his stomach. I felt the muscles under my hands spasm. His gaze was hooded as he watched me, quietly letting me slip my hand under his shirt.

He flinched when my hand touched his skin. I could feel the electricity between us pulsing and pulling. A tangible tether connected us as I slid my hand down, unbuttoning his jeans.

I kept my eyes locked on his the entire time. I saw every emotion there as I pushed the zipper down and slipped my hand under the band of his boxers. My hand brushed the hard length of him, and he hissed through his teeth, his eyes sliding shut.

I pulled my hand back, grinning. “Ah, ah,” I chided. “Eyes on me.”

His eyes flew open, burning as he stared at me. His hands clenched around the edge of the work bench, and I heard the wood groan and crack under the force of his grip.

I slipped my hand back inside his boxers, slowly tracing the length of him. When I ran a finger along the vein that pulsed on the underside of his erection, his mouth fell open with a ragged breath.

I repeated the action, smiling when his breath caught again.

My fingers swirled around the soft tip of him, feeling the slight moisture there. I collected it on my finger and removed my hands from his pants, licking the salty wetness from the tip of my finger.

A low growl rumbled out of his chest, his eyes dark and starving as he watched me.

More wood splintered under his hold.

I knew he was seconds from grabbing me and hauling me onto the bench. And as much as I wanted his hands, his mouth, between my legs again, I was still curious.

I kept my eyes on his as I slid to my knees in front of him.

“Larkin.” He choked on my name as I started tugging his jeans and then boxers down.

His length sprang free, and I tried to hide the shock on my face at the sheer size of him.

His cock was long and thick, weeping at the tip. My mouth watered for another taste of the salty tang I had on my tongue seconds earlier.

Gripping the base of him, I slowly licked around his cock. I kept my eyes on him, watching to see what he liked.

He really seemed to love it when I lifted a hand to test the weight of his balls in my palm. He definitely loved me licking the vein running underneath his cock. But he swore violently when I sucked the tip of him into my mouth, my tongue teasing the slit I discovered.

The iron grip he had on the workbench eased and his hand reached out to touch my head. The touch was gentle at first, but he fisted my braid again when I sucked more of him into my mouth, angling me where he wanted.

“Jesus,” he whispered, his head falling back in ecstasy as I eased more of him into my mouth. His hips moved in small, shallow thrusts against my mouth. By the strain in his face, I could tell he was holding himself back as much as he could. Each pass, each bob of my head, I gained ground until I felt him touch the back of my throat.

I swallowed around him, almost jumping when he groaned loudly.

“ Fuck , Larkin,” he hissed, chest heaving. His head fell down, his eyes barely focused. “That... Fuck .”

Assuming that was a good thing, I did it again. Then again.

The fourth time, he pulled on my braid hard, trying to pull me off of him.

“Lark, I’m gonna-”

Smirking to myself, I let him slide all the way out until my lips ringed just the tip of him. I sucked hard, quickly pulling the length of him back into my mouth and swallowing around him once more.

With a ragged cry, his hips jerked and I felt him pulsing in my mouth. I kept swallowing his release until he sagged against the bench, the hand gripping my hair relaxing.

I swirled my tongue around him one last time before letting him go and leaning back on my heels to look up at him.

Rhodes was still breathing hard, his chin on his chest, dark hair falling over his face as he caught his breath.

“Was that... okay?” I asked softly, not sure I had done that exactly right. I had gone with my gut... and maybe tried to imitate what I had read in a couple romance novels.

His eyes snapped open and he grabbed me, lifting me up and kissing me roughly, desperately.

Now I was the one gasping when he pulled back.

“That was fucking perfect,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “Do I want to know where you learned to do that?”

Ducking my head into his chest I laughed. “You were definitely the first.”

His arms closed around me. “And I better be the only.”

“If you insist,” I whispered against him.

I pulled away so he could get dressed and started cracking up when I caught a glimpse of his shirt again.

Rhodes paused in the midst of pulling his jeans up, arching a brow as he looked at me. “Baby, laughter isn’t something a guy likes to hear when his pants are around his ankles.”

I pointed at him. “Rhodes. Your shirt.”

The t-shirt he wore that still said “No Pants Are The Best Pants”.

He smirked and pulled his jeans on.

I definitely loved that shirt.