Claiming the Moon (9 page)

The iron smell of blood filled the room.

“Baby, answer me.”

Ellen managed a nod and tried to stand up.

“Just sit for a minute,” he ordered as his hands roamed over her body. Checking for injuries, she realized.

“Who are they?” she asked when she got her voice back.

He helped her stand up, keeping an arm around her waist to steady her. Looking up, he met the leader’s gaze. Julian, she remembered him being called.

“Humans,” Clint answered. She looked beyond him to the body lying on the floor. “Rogue hunters.”

“And that one?” she asked, not quite able to hide the tremor in her voice, in her hands.

His arm tightened around her waist, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Adrenalin. I know an excellent way to work it off.”

His voice held the unmistakable timbre of lust, and she was surprised to feel an answering call in her blood.

“Later,” she replied softly. She wanted nothing more than to go upstairs with him, but she needed answers first. Needed to know how she’d become Robert’s target. Needed to know why.

He moved behind her, both arms around her waist, standing guard over her. Holding her safe. They watched as the black clad soldiers lifted the body off the floor and carried him out. She was surprised that two of the four were female. How had she missed that?

Julian remained behind for a moment. He met her gaze, and she saw regret and longing in his. “You look like your mother.”

“You knew my mother?” she asked, shocked. If her mother had lived, she would have turned fifty this year. Julian looked to be a few years younger.

He nodded. “She was one of us until she hooked up with Brant.”

Which begged the question. “Who
are
y’all?”

He grinned. “Think of us as the human branch of the Hunters, except it’s not just wolves we go after if necessary.”

She scowled. Why hadn’t her mother told her about this? “I should have known,” she muttered.

He sobered. Shook his head. “No. We’re more secret than you are. Robert…was an aberration. I don’t know how he got through our screening process.” His eyes hardened into flinty black rocks. “It won’t happen again.”

He nodded at the others in the room before turning to follow his people. “Gentlemen. Ellen. If you ever need anything, call.”

“How exactly am I supposed to do that?” Search Google for Julian and hope he came up?

“They know how,” he said, indicating Anthony and Clint. Then he was gone, moving with stealthy speed out the door. It shut with a soft click.

“Would someone please tell me what the hell just happened?”

Chapter Eight

“Later,” Clint said before anyone could speak. Swinging her up into his arms, he carried her upstairs and down the hall to their room. The door slammed shut behind them, and he set her gently to her feet.

She saw the worry and fear in his eyes, and lifted her hand to stroke the side of his face. “I’m okay, honey.”

He nodded and started removing her clothes. “Need to see that for myself.”

Since his fingers stroked every inch of skin he uncovered, setting her on fire, making her burn, she didn’t protest. He brushed a kiss over the mark he’d left on her neck, and her shudders increased, this time from a surge of lust, not adrenalin.

Too slow. He was going too damned slow. She unsnapped her jeans and shoved them off. Moving closer, she rubbed her body against his. She had to grab his shoulders and hang on when he inserted one jean-clad leg between hers and rubbed it against her damp sex. She felt breakable, like she would shatter when she came, would splinter if she didn’t.

“Clint!”

His mouth swept down to meet hers. Hard and bruising while he rocked her to orgasm on his leg. Then he was tearing away and yanking his jeans off. She stared at him, at the hard evidence of his desire for her. He picked her up, shoving into her before she could reach for him. He moved, and each step shifted the angle of his cock inside her.

She was groaning by the time her back hit the door, and then he was pounding into her. Wild. Out of control. And she was screaming her pleasure, crying out her release right before him. The intensity of the orgasm made her see spots, or maybe the spots were from squeezing her eyes shut so tightly.

Clint carried her to the bed and lay down beside her. They were both gasping. She didn’t think she’d ever catch her breath again.

“It’s getting more intense,” she said when she could speak again. “The attraction, I mean. I might not survive it.”

His expression was almost soft as he rolled to his side, propped up on one elbow over her, and kissed her lightly. Tenderly. “You’ll survive. I think it’s because I fought it for so long. It should simmer down some in time.”

She pouted. “That would be a real shame.”

Laughing, he lay back down and pulled her over to straddle his waist, his fingers playing with her nipples. “True.”

With a moan, she arched her back, thrusting her breasts into his palms as her eyes slid closed. He didn’t give her what she wanted. Harder. Faster. Claiming. She opened her eyes and met his gaze.

“What’s wrong?”

“I could have lost you down there,” he said softly, and she knew he didn’t mean to the madman with a gun.

“I’m in love with a werewolf, honey. I know you aren’t entirely human.” She paused a moment. “But you need to forgive yourself. Don’t let this come between us.”

Leaning down, she left a trail of kisses up his chest, his neck, and whispered in his ear, “I’ve waited too long. The past can’t have you.”

Then his arms were around her, crushing her to him. “God, I love you.”

Epilogue

Clint didn’t know what the hell had possessed him to allow Ellen to come with him to the meeting, but he was glad to have her at his side. He stopped her before she could ring the bell, pulling her into his arms for a deep, soul-shattering kiss.

Her lips were a little puffy when he pulled back, her eyes with the glazed look she got when he stroked her into orgasm. “What was that for?” she asked.

“I love you.”

Her lips turned up that sexy grin that drove him crazy. “Hmm. I might require more proof.”

He growled in her ear, “Later. All the proof you need.”

Laughing, she pushed the doorbell. It was opened seconds later by Anthony, who stepped aside to let them enter.

“What’s wrong with you?” He looked frazzled and just generally pissed off.

“Her highness in there could drive a man to drink.” He added darkly, “Or murder.”

Clint cocked an eyebrow and followed Anthony into the office, where Gia Roberts, Julian’s tall and svelte second in command, leaned over his desk, palms braced wide, and whispered harshly. She shut up as soon as they entered and turned to glare at Anthony.

Julian heaved a put upon sigh and spoke to Clint. “Just once, I’d like to
not
be the guy in charge.” He stood and circled the desk, giving both Anthony and Gia a hard glare. “You two need to just get it over with.”

“What?”

He rolled his eyes. “Sex, Gia. Fuck him and get it out of your system. You’re not any good to anyone like this.”

Her face reflected her shock at his words, but when Clint looked at Anthony, he saw just the opposite. He wasn’t surprised by the suggestion at all. He was very, very interested. Clint hoped this wasn’t going to be a problem in this new joint werewolf/human venture. They’d agreed to a test. A small group of Hunters from both groups would pair up. Share information. Work together. Julian had decided to assign Gia to work with Anthony.

“That is the craziest idea you’ve had yet, Julian.”

Anthony moved up behind her, rested his palm on the back of her neck, and pulled her toward him. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. Clint’s superior hearing easily picked up the taunt.

“I don’t know about that. Unless you’re as cold in bed as out of it?”

She sucked in an outraged breath, wrenched free from his grip, and stomped out of the room.

“Nice going,” Clint said.

Anthony gave his signature, unperturbed shrug. “You know as well as I do, it doesn’t always start easy. Inevitable though. She’ll come around. Some things are written in stone.”

Clint pulled Ellen into the circle of his arms. Yes. Some things were meant to be, no matter how hard you fought them. Ellen was a surrender he’d treasure for the rest of his life.

The End

Author Bio

Loribelle is like the South she calls home. Hot and sultry. Languid and sexy. Magnolias and gardenias scent her silk-lined boudoir, and men and children alike bow to her magnificence…

Okay, maybe it isn’t quite that glamorous. She does have two smart and lovely daughters who give her a run for her money and a son that will one day be someone’s model of a romance hero. (She promises.) Her husband is a real life hero, and Loribelle just tries to keep up with the demands of military life. In between, she writes a book or two.

She’s had every job under the sun, but haven’t most writers? That Army military police, bookstore manager, waitress, wedding photographer, website designer experience has to come in useful sometimes. As they say in the South, it all washes out in the end.

She loves hearing from her readers and can be found at www.loribellehunt.com