CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Alex and Bree didn’t get back to the cul-de-sac until after 9pm. Once his parents heard what happened, they’d rushed over to Vinnie’s, intent on checking on Bree. It hadn’t surprised Alex that his mother had cooked dinner for everyone—it was her way of taking care of people. He suspected she did begrudge cooking for Vinnie, though.

Tate had taken Calvin home hours before that. Vinnie had questioned him several times, but the cat’s story never changed. He didn’t add anything new, and he didn’t agree to allow Bree to “help” him either.

Sitting beside Alex at the dinner table, Bree hadn’t spoken much and had often looked lost in her own thoughts, but no one had called her on it. They’d given her emotional space while also rallying around her, reminding her that she wasn’t alone.

Alex had tried to convince her to stay in his apartment for the night, but Bree refused, stating that no one would scare her out of her own home. And so Alex would stay there with her as he usually did. There wasn’t a sliver of a chance that he was leaving her alone.

As she and Alex approached her house, an enforcer stepped out of the shadows. “Bree, Alex. I need to do a walkthrough of the house before you go inside—Tate’s orders.”

Bree pulled her keys out of her jacket pocket and tossed them to the male, who then slipped inside. Mere minutes later, he returned and verified that the house was empty.

“Thank you,” said Bree, taking her keys back from the enforcer. He nodded and melted into the shadows.

Alex followed her into the house and closed the door. “You head upstairs.” Because she looked like she was ready to drop. “I’ll make sure everything’s locked up.”

He half-expected her to argue. Instead, she simply trudged up the stairs. It worried him, but it also demonstrated a trust that warmed him. It was no little thing for someone like Bree to trust that another person would ensure her territory was secure.

He walked around the house, checking that the windows and doors were locked. The necklaces had been removed from the kitchen counter, just as Vinnie had assured him.

Alex walked into her bedroom, frowning as he saw her sitting on the edge of the bed staring into space. He crouched between her spread thighs and rubbed her calves. “Come back to me.”

“I’m here.” It was a flat whisper.

“No, you’re not. You’re a million miles away. I know it’s easier said than done but shove all the shit that’s going on to the back of your mind, or you’re never gonna sleep.” He brushed his mouth over hers. “Come back to me.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, the dazed look had disappeared from her eyes.

“That’s my girl.” Determined to distract her and make her forget everything for just a little while, he got to his knees and flicked open the top button of her blouse. “I’ve been wanting to do that since you first fastened it this morning.”

Her stomach clenching, Bree watched as he opened the next button. And the next. And the next, his gaze intent on each bit of skin he revealed.

There was no urgency in his manner. No sense that his control was fraying. He clearly had no intention of rushing this. And she knew she was going to get “slow and gentle” tonight. Knew he probably thought it would be the best way to help her wind down. But he was wrong. She wanted fast, hard, and rough. She didn’t voice that, though, because he’d be less likely to give it to her, the teasing bastard.

He slipped her blouse over her shoulders and down her arms and then pressed a kiss to a mark he’d left on her shoulder. “Like seeing my brands on you.” He swept his fingertips over the trail of freckles on her chest. “The first time I saw these freckles, I wondered just how far down they went.” Nuzzling her neck, he released the front clasp on her bra. “Looks like someone dusted your chest and tits with cinnamon. I like cinnamon.” He brushed the bra cups aside and let her breasts spill out onto his palms. “I like these better.”

She arched into his hands and took a shaky breath. “Kiss me.”

Instead, he traced her lower lip with the tip of his tongue. “Never had a mouth that tasted so sweet.” He squeezed her breasts just right, causing a moan to slip out of her. “Your pussy … now that tastes even sweeter. I can smell it getting wet for me.”

“Alex—” Her lips parted on a gasp as he pinched her nipple, and then his tongue boldly sank into her mouth. He kissed her. Kissed her so hard and deep that it stole her breath, muddied her thoughts, and sent her libido into hyperdrive.

Her composure just flitted away. She gripped his head as she kissed him back. Every explicit stroke of his tongue dragged her deeper and deeper into a place of pure sensation.

He hummed as he broke the kiss with a light nip to her lip. “I’d know that taste anywhere.” He swooped down and drew one nipple into his mouth. He sucked hard. Her pussy clenched, feeling far too empty; far too hot and needy.

She moaned and arched into him as he lavished attention on her breasts. His tongue licked and flicked. His teeth scraped and bit. His hands stroked and squeezed. She felt every touch deep in her core.

Damp heat spilled from her aching pussy. Her body was desperate for his. Desperate for the pure bliss it knew he could deliver. The anticipation was honestly painful.

He splayed a hand on her stomach and gently pushed. “Lie back.”

That order vibrated with enough dominance to make her cat shiver just a little. Tossing aside the bra and blouse, Bree did as he asked. Still on his knees, he removed her shoes and then whipped off her slacks and panties.

His warm thumbs parted her folds, and the cool air fluttered over her flesh. “Slick already.” Gripping her hips, he dragged her pussy close to his face and buried his tongue deep.

Bree fisted the bedsheets as that clever tongue swirled and pumped—first slow, then fast. Occasionally he’d stop to lick at her slit or suckle on her clit, but then he’d drive his tongue back into her pussy.

The friction built inside her until her thighs began to tremor and her pussy started to tighten. Feeling her orgasm rushing toward her, she sucked in a breath. “Oh, God.” She bucked. Arched. Groaned. Shook. And then she came.

Breathing hard, she melted into the mattress, a puddle of warm goo.

Rising to stand at the foot of the bed, he licked his lips. “Love watching you come. Need to record it so I can see it whenever I want.”

Like she would ever let that happen. He tugged off his tee and, damn, she almost drooled. So much sleek, roped muscle. So many badass tattoos. And, Jesus, those abs were just fucking perfection.

He dragged his fingertips over her skin, as if he was refamiliarizing himself with every line, dip, and curve. Her nerve-endings were so unbelievably hypersensitive that every touch seemed to sear her flesh. She fairly trembled with the crushing, unrelenting need to have him thrusting deep inside her. “Alex, now.”

Alex might have bristled at the order if it hadn’t come out sounding more like a plea. He wanted her this way. Wanted her desperate and frantic and so swept away by sensation that her mind was free of worries and questions.

He took a mental snapshot of her lying there with her hair fanned around her head, her nipples taut, her pussy slick, her skin flushed. Beautiful. He’d been craving her all day. Craving the feel of her skin, the hot clasp of her inner muscles, and fuck the taste of her … there was nothing else like it.

He snapped open his fly and shoved down his jeans. His gut clenched as her dazed eyes locked on his cock. He fisted himself and lazily pumped, teasing them both. “Now I’m going to fuck you. You get to choose what position. Do it fast.”

For a single moment, she froze. Then, as fluid as a cat, she rolled onto her stomach and got to her hands and knees.

Alex hummed. “Good choice.” He knelt behind her on the mattress and smoothed his hands up her back. She arched into him like a kitten, but the moan that came out of her was a pure feminine demand that rung with impatience.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair. “You hungry for my cock?”

“Yes,” she bit out.

“Then you’ll get it.”

Bree winced at the slight bite of pain as the thick head of his cock pushed into her. “Not slow, Alex, I—” The hand holding her hair snatched her head back as he surged into her with such shocking force that she cursed.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” He reared back, slow and smooth. Then he roughly surged deep, burying himself to the hilt inside her.

“Yes.” Feeling unbearably full while his long, fat cock throbbed against her inner walls, Bree closed her eyes. “Fuck me.” Instead, he released her hair and pressed down on her upper back. She dropped to her elbows and rested one side of her face on the mattress.

He rumbled a sound of approval and gripped her shoulders. “Such a good girl.”

Bree was about to firmly state that she was far freaking from it, but then he began brutally hammering into her pussy, driving so deep it hurt in the best way. She threw her hips back to meet each thrust, loving the feel of his cock slicing through her over and over.

The room was filled with moans, growls, grunts, and the sound of flesh slapping wet flesh. Her pussy was so super-sensitive that she could already feel her orgasm slowly creeping up on her. The slightest touch to her clit would throw her over.

“Love being in you.” Alex ground his teeth as her inner muscles rippled, and more liquid heat bathed his dick. He loved watching himself sink inside her. Loved that view of her perfect little ass—an ass he owned, just as he owned every other delectable inch of her.

He growled as her pussy tightened and superheated around him. “You’re close, aren’t you? Good. I want you to come hard for me.” He snaked one hand around her body and found her clit. She went wild beneath him. Her pussy became tighter and tighter and tighter.

He sank his teeth into the back of her shoulder. She damn well detonated; screaming, bucking, clawing the sheets. Snarling, Alex pounded into her harder as her pussy clamped down like a vice and swept him under. White-hot pleasure tore through him, fast and fierce, making his eyes go blind. He exploded inside her, his cock throbbing and pulsing.

For a few moments, he collapsed on top of her, utterly replete. Sated. Content. Loathed to leave her body, he nonetheless gently pulled out of her and flopped onto his back. His mouth dry as a bone, he lay there, his chest heaving with every ragged breath. She lay on her stomach beside him, her eyes closed, her body shuddering with little aftershocks.

“You okay?” he asked. “I was pretty rough.”

“If it had been too much, I would have said so.” Her lids lifted, revealing slumberous eyes. “Thank you. For earlier. Helping me when I almost checked out with shock.”

“You wouldn’t have checked out. You always have your shit together. I admire it. A lot of people would have cried or raged, but you didn’t. Just like you don’t rage about what a bitch fate has been to you by lumping you with Paxton.”

“My dad drummed it into me daily that finding your true mate didn’t equate to happiness; that it wasn’t the be all and end all. He was right. There are so many imprinted couples around us, including Mila and Dominic. They’re solid and ridiculously happy.”

They were. It was almost nauseating. “My maternal grandparents imprinted on each other. It was an arranged mating, which doesn’t always work out well. But they have a tight, albeit highly dysfunctional, relationship.”

“My own grandmother believed imprint bonds are more special than true mate bonds, because it means your partner chose you. There’s no fate at work. The decision isn’t taken from your hands. That person wanted you enough that you mean more to them than anything else—even their true mate.”

“Yeah, that’s special,” Alex agreed.

“You know, Riley once told me that although ravens believe in destiny, they don’t believe that a shifter’s fate always lies with their true mate; they believe that if a shifter finds someone they love, their fate may lie with them. That rings true for me. I don’t believe my destiny ever lay with Paxton. I never felt that way.”

Curling his arm around her, Alex drew her closer. “Good. Because you’re not his, and he can’t have you.” He pressed a long kiss to her mouth. “Now get some sleep. It won’t be long before I wake you up to take you again.”

“No complaints here.”

“For the hundredth and final time, you’re not giving me money for groceries.” Bree slammed her locker door to punctuate her words.

“Baby girl, I eat more of your food than you do,” said Alex. “I have breakfast at your home every morning, and I eat dinner there every night. I snack like it’s my job, and I intend to continue to do so. It ain’t cheap to keep a wolverine fed.”

“And you’re still not paying for groceries.”

“Yes, I am—deal with it.”

“Don’t tell me to deal with it. It is my house, my kitchen, my food—”

“Which I’ll have paid for. Jesus, Bree, I’m not suggesting I pay to have your damn kitchen remodeled. We’re talking groceries here.” He gave his head a little shake. “Why are we fighting?”

“We’re not fighting. We’re arguing.”

“How is that different?”

“My claws are sheathed, and you’re not bleeding. But that can change fast.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re hot when you’re mad.”

“Don’t try to change the subject.” Taking in a calming breath, she raised both hands. “Okay, on a scale of 1 to 10, how important is this to you?”

“A gazillion.”

She sighed impatiently. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He gave her a hard kiss. “Glad we got that sorted.”

“We didn’t get anything sorted, we—”

“I have to go to the mechanic’s shop,” he said, referring to another of the pride businesses that he co-owned with Vinnie. “I won’t be long. If you need me, call.” And then he just swanned out of the break room.

Bree clenched her fists. The guy was a pain in her ass.

Wanting to use the bathroom before her lunch break was officially over, she headed to the restroom and did her business. Washing her hands afterward, she sighed at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Lines of strain were etched deep into her face. But then, that was no surprise, considering she had several questions bouncing around her head like pinballs.

Had it been Calvin who left the necklaces? Had he—or whoever the intruder was—broken into her home before? Would she arrive home later to find that someone had trespassed again and left her yet more “gifts?”

No one should have to feel unsafe in their own home. But knowing that some fucker had so easily snuck past her guards and security like that … the whole thing made her house feel tainted in some way. So, yeah, her cat was monumentally pissed. Like all shifters, the feline was pathologically territorial.

Having dried her hands with paper towels, Bree walked out of the restroom and headed to the showroom floor. She’d no sooner took up her usual position behind the counter when the bell above the door jingled. She looked up. And silently cursed a blue streak as Bernadette, Ruben, and Moira strode inside.

There was nothing confrontational about their body language, which was probably the only reason that Greg didn’t refuse them entrance. But the enforcer’s eyes were sharp on the trio, and she knew he’d throw them out if they gave him the slightest reason.

Alex stayed at the store most days while she worked, and it seemed awful convenient that they’d turned up while he was absent. She wondered if the Cages had watched and waited for an opportunity to talk to her without him present.

“Well, hell,” muttered Elle as she slipped behind the counter and moved to stand behind Bree in a gesture of support. James and Valentina didn’t move from their positions near his desk, but their eyes stayed on the newcomers as they crossed to the counter.

Bernadette looked at Bree with a tremulous but serene smile on her face. “You believe now, don’t you? I told Paxton was alive, but you wouldn’t listen.”

Bree sighed. Oh, Lord. “Bernadette—”

“Don’t say you think it’s Calvin who’s been doing these things,” the woman said. “You know he didn’t. You know he wouldn’t.” Her brows drew together. “You really threw away the half-heart necklace Paxton gave you?”

“He didn’t give it to me. You did.”

Bernadette shook her head. “It was a gift from Paxton. He wanted you to know that you’d always be in his thoughts. Why would you throw the gift away?”

“Maybe because she’s an ungrateful little bitch,” Moira muttered beneath her breath, earning her a harsh look from her father.

Ruben turned to Bree. “I know this has to be a confusing time for you. He’s been gone so long that you believed he was dead. I can understand if you’re angry that he’s stayed away all this time, but we hope you’ll forgive him for not staying in contact with you. We hope you’ll give him a chance to explain and abandon the idea of having a life without him. Alex will understand. Paxton’s his cousin; he won’t stand between him and his mate.”

Well, Bree suspected he was wrong there. “Sorry, I can’t do what you’re asking. Honestly, I’m not convinced that Paxton is back. But if he is, I hope he hasn’t come for me—he’ll be wasting his time. I want nothing to do with him. I never did.”

“You don’t mean that,” said Bernadette, her face falling.

“Yeah, I do,” Bree stated. “Be blind to the truth if you want, but your son was not normal. I would never have been safe with him. He didn’t care for me.”

“That’s not true!” Bernadette’s hands balled up into fists. “He always used to talk of how glad he was that he’d found his mate.”

“It sure didn’t seem that way when he told me he’d be better off if he killed me.”

There was a boom of shocked silence.

“He wouldn’t have said that.” Bernadette shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you want. But you won’t kid me into thinking that you didn’t see something wasn’t right with him. You’ve clung to the hope that he’d come back for me because you think I can fix him. You think that bonding with his true mate will make him better. That’s not how it works.”

“You owe him,” snarled Moira. “You got all the light, which left him with all the—”

“Do I look like someone filled with fucking light?” snapped Bree.

The front door swung open, and then … “Funny how none of you came here until I was preoccupied elsewhere,” said Alex, his voice deceptively casual.

Bree’s eyes flew to him. Ooh, he was not a happy bunny at all. She’d bet someone in the shop had texted him to let him know the Cages were there.

“You know,” Greg said to him, “I was just thinking the same thing. I was also about to suggest that they leave.”

“Paxton’s your cousin, Alex,” said Bernadette. “Your cousin. How could you date his mate? He needs her. You know he does.”

“She renounced her claim on him,” Alex reminded her. “She wants nothing to do with him—she told you that already.”

Bernadette’s nostrils flared. “You lost your true mate, you know how painful it is to be without them, and yet you’re willing to put Paxton through that?”

“Let me be clear: no amount of droning on and on about how hurt Paxton will be is going to make me give up Bree. This is all pointless. Just let it go.”

“Let it go? Just overlook that you’ve stolen my boy’s mate from him?”

“Stolen her? That’s how you honestly see it? He left her, he stayed away, he never contacted her. In sum, he gave her up. Really, it was the best—and only decent—thing he ever did for her. He didn’t want her, and she doesn’t want him.”

“He’s back now—”

“Maybe, but if he is back, he’s obviously not here to claim her, or he’d have tried to do it already. You can’t expect Bree to live her life alone just because she might have mated with your son if things had been different; if he’d been different.”

“There’s nothing wrong with him.”

“It’s guilt, isn’t it?” Alex tilted his head. “It’s guilt that makes you so determined to not see the bad in him. You know some people believe that the drugs you took when pregnant damaged him, and you’ve come to believe the same, haven’t you? You’ve taken on the blame for every bad thing he ever did. His choices are on him, Bernadette. You didn’t ruin his life. He did that all on his own.”

Ruben curled a hand around his mate’s arm. “We’re wasting our time here.”

Bernadette’s eyes danced from Bree to Alex. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re no longer my family. Neither of you exist for me now. But be warned, Alex—she betrayed my son, and she’ll betray you. Probably not before he makes you pay for this, though. He’ll be furious.” The Cages then breezed out of the store.

Sighing, Bree rubbed at her temples. “Well, that was fun.”

Elle rested a hand on her shoulder. “If it helps, your words got through this time. Bernadette does enjoy deluding herself, but she heard what you said. Really heard you.”

“I agree,” said Valentina, crossing to the counter. “They know you are serious. If they have any sense, they will let this go.”

But that was the thing, Bree thought. The Cages had never had any “sense” when it came to anything related to Paxton. None whatsoever.