Layla Nash - A Valentine's Chase (City Shifters: the Pride) (8 page)

R
afe tried
to distract Meadow from the attack and the still body of the wolf in the parking lot, while continuing to search for new threats and the rest of his pack. In a matter of minutes, two cars rolled up and Ruby got out. She took in the scene, started giving orders, and waved for Rafe to take off. She understood. She knew. If it had been Carter shaken up in the car, she would have gotten him to safety first and let Rafe take care of the clean up. So Rafe squeezed Meadow's hand and pulled away from the bookstore.

She still trembled and periodically took deep, shaky breaths that sounded like a struggle. He searched for a safe topic, not wanting to remind her of the attacks or anything dangerous, and finally glanced at her to measure her response. "When did you learn to read palms?"

Meadow hugged herself, staring out the window, and for a moment, Rafe feared she'd gone completely into shock. Most people didn't deal well with being attacked by a wild animal, or really with being attacked at all. Most of the humans in the city would never face something that truly wanted to kill them. He debated driving to the shifter hospital instead of her apartment, to make sure she would be okay, but Meadow took another one of those scary deep breaths and turned a little in the seat to face him. "In college."

"Oh?" He wished she would just start talking, and keep talking, not just because he wanted to distract her but because he loved the sound of her voice. Loved the feeling of driving her somewhere, with her safe and warm in his car. "Why palms?"

"I was always good at guessing stuff about people," she said, a tiny frown between her eyebrows giving her a puzzled look. "It worked better when I could touch them. I know how to read tarot, but I'm much better with palms. I didn't think much of it, honestly, until Smith told me..."

She trailed off as Rafe stopped at a light, waiting for traffic to clear. "Smith told you what?"

"What I am." Meadow rubbed her eyes and started shivering again. "It's a lot to take in."

"I'm sure it is." Rafe double-checked the intersection, even with a green light, to verify they were safe before he accelerated again. No use taking stupid risks with his mate next to him. "Was Smith able to explain everything to you? About what you are, what you can do, what the rest of us are?"

"Sort of," she said. Meadow adjusted where the cane leaned on the seat next to her, her long fingers sliding along the intricate carvings. "I'm a muse, I guess. I don't know if he told you that?"

"He didn't." Rafe's head cocked to the side as the wolf tried to puzzle through what the fuck a muse was. Wolves didn't understand that, and Rafe didn't really get it, either. So he took a deep breath and tried to remember Meadow had been shoved into the deep end of shifter politics and a surreal-reality. "Those sorts of things are your secret to tell, Meadow. You own who and what you are, so if you want to tell me more, I'd love to hear it. And if you want to keep it to yourself, that's your decision as well."

She studied him, her body shifting slightly so she faced him still more, and her arm rested on the console — close enough to touch. "Thank you. I don't think I'm ready to talk about that."

"Understood." He was disappointed, sure, but he stood by what he'd said. No use in badgering her to tell him everything, not when the relationship between them was so fragile and uncertain. Rafe frowned as he stopped at another light. "Do you have groceries at home or should we pick some up?"

"Smith sent me home with food," she said, and laughed under her breath. "Typical. But there's plenty there to make whatever. Spaghetti or grilled chicken or soup."

"Any preference?"

She drew her good leg up onto the seat in front of her as he drove through and turned toward her neighborhood. "Spaghetti sounds pretty good, come to think of it. Unless..."

Rafe looked at her. "Unless what?"

"Is garlic a problem? I mean, can you eat it, or does it make you sick?" Her nose wrinkled as Meadow looked at him, a hint of anxiety in her eyes. "I know that's vampires, but I thought..."

He wanted to kiss her so badly he nearly stopped the car in the middle of the street. Rafe maintained a somber expression, though, and nodded. "Well, there are some side-effects."

"Really?" Meadow's eyes got bigger and her hand caught his wrist. "Like what?"

"Well." Rafe parked the car in front of her apartment block, already dissatisfied with where she lived. The Chases knew a good realtor; as soon as Rafe got the issues sorted out with BadCreek's random attacks, he would start searching for a better apartment, for both of them. Together. He cleared his throat as he undid his seatbelt and then reached to assist with hers, which left them nose-to-nose. And lips-to-lips, practically. He hesitated and she leaned in, hazel eyes unblinking. Rafe murmured, "Bad breath, to start," and he pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. "Eventually, solitude and loneliness. Living in a cave because no one can stand the smell of —"

"Oh, cut it out." She smacked his shoulder but laughed, a hint of a flush in her cheeks as she fumbled with the door and the cane and her cast. "That's not funny."

He begged to differ. But he only went around the car to give her a hand, carrying her bag and a small leather-bound book she held, and offered his arm for her to lean on. "You're right, living like a hermit is not at all —"

"You're terrible," she said under her breath, but when he caught her in his peripheral vision, she still smiled. "Just for that, I should make you carry me up the stairs."

Rafe didn't hesitate. Didn't even think before the wolf part of his brain moved and he scooped her up. Meadow yelped and his entire fucking side went numb where the cane brushed him, and for a second he considered dropping her, just for self-preservation. But he knew she'd never forgive him. That would always haunt them, and might give her the wrong impression — the idea that she was anything but perfect. So he pretended that he didn't have pins and needles shooting through his entire left side, from his shoulder to his hip, and managed to keep his voice calm as she tried to strangle him in terror. "You don't even have to ask, babe."

Her laugh escaped, breathless, but terror lurked in her eyes as she shook her head. "You can put me down. I was only joking. Because, you know, it's not —"

"Helping you could never be anything but a pleasure and a gift," he said, and started toward the door. He sure as hell wasn't going to watch her struggle up the stairs. Rafe squeezed her tight to his chest, loving the soft give of her curves in his arms. "Besides, it's been a long day and your leg must be killing you. I'm happy to carry you wherever you want to go."

"You're crazy." She held her breath as he trotted up the stairs, as if she didn't believe he'd make it up the two flights without needing to pause or set her down, and when he finally set her back on her feet, right outside her door, Meadow gave him a sideways look. "Seriously. You're crazy. What are you on, steroids?"

"Crazy about you, maybe." Rafe winked and followed her into the kitchen. She snorted and waved a hand, as if to dismiss him, and Rafe folded his arms over his chest. He'd had enough of the casual way she undermined her own worth, her own lovability. When Meadow limped past him to retrieve a large pot from the cupboard, he caught her face in his hands and held her in front of him. "Hold on a sec. Listen to me for a moment, Meadow, and then you're going to go put your foot up and I'm going to make you dinner."

Her eyebrows rose and she started to look nervous. "Yeah?"

"You're perfect." The wolf wanted to growl and pace as she made another disbelieving sound and looked away. His thumbs stroked her cheeks until Meadow looked at him, and tears made her hazel eyes more green. Rafe leaned his forehead against hers, so she would hear every syllable and every breath. "You are everything I always wanted and never thought I deserved. You're amazing and funny and smart and tough and kind. You're perfect. Don't put yourself down. Please. It hurts me to hear you treat yourself like that. You deserve to be taken care of and pampered and loved. Got it?"

A few tears spilled down her cheeks and across his hands, and he couldn't take it. He kissed her again, tasting the salt from her grief as well as the minty lip gloss she used. Meadow didn't pull away but she didn't kiss him back, so Rafe retreated after a moment. The wolf settled a little, though he didn't like their mate's unhappiness. "Okay?"

Meadow took a shaky breath, then abruptly leaned against him, buried her face against his chest, and linked her arms around him. Rafe hugged her back, squeezed her tightly, and waited. Her breathing, uneven and jerky, betrayed there were more than a few tears waiting to escape. Rafe rested his chin on top of her head and inhaled her, content to hold her as she cried and struggled to really hear what he'd said. He didn't know her history, but from the things she'd said, he gathered there weren't many times when she had the opportunity to build confidence in herself and her talents.

It seemed like just a blink before she straightened, dragging herself away even though her hands rested against his sides, and she gave him a watery look. "I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from."

Rafe kissed the end of her nose. "Don't apologize. Feel like talking about it?"

She didn't answer right away, and instead shuffled to the other side of the galley kitchen while Rafe filled the pot with water and set it on the stove. When he turned back, Meadow had a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other. She took a shaky breath as she started to uncork the bottle. "I might need some of this to give me courage."

Rafe chuckled. "I know what you mean."

He puttered around the kitchen, making the sauce and even a few pieces of garlic bread, and was almost halfway done by the time she spoke. Meadow started and stopped twice, her entire face red as she played with a stray coin on the table. She adjusted where she propped up her cast and then started for the third time. "Everyone thought I was crazy, when I was little. Well, and all the way through college, too. Boys didn't want to be seen with me, girls didn't want to be my friend. My parents committed me to a mental health facility when I was in middle school, because they thought I was hallucinating and maybe schizophrenic or bipolar or something they couldn't really define. And I thought something was wrong with me, too — I mean, fairies and pixies and gnomes didn't actually exist, and yet I had a whole phalanx of them running around in my backyard. But no one else could see or hear them, and they seemed so real..."

She trailed off, expression wistful, and the wolf raged that she'd spent so much of her life doubting herself. Rafe concentrated on the sauce, not wanting to scare her away from the rest of what she had to say. Meadow poured herself more wine before going on. "They kept me there for a couple of months, trying out different medications that had horrible side effects and turned me into a zombie or made me shake or took all the color out of the world. I learned how to say what they wanted to hear, what they expected to hear. When I got out, I knew I couldn't go back there again. It was so sterile, so cold, and the people... They wanted to help but it was just a place to learn how to be like everyone else. It was terrifying. I still have nightmares about it, the white rooms and long halls and windows with bars on them. I felt caged and exposed at the same time, and after a couple of weeks, I could feel myself changing. I thought part of me died in there, like they crushed the best part of me and I would never get it back."

She shook her head, staring at something he couldn't see, and Rafe gouged a nail into his wrist to keep from speaking, from falling to his knees and apologizing on behalf of the world for all the things done to her.

"And then I saw you," Meadow said, so soft he almost missed it in the hiss of boiling water. "Then I saw you at the bar and it was like the best part of me came back to life. I didn't know how or why or who you were, but I felt... whole."

"You make me whole," he said, desperate to comfort her. He abandoned the pasta to its watery fate and faced her, caught her hand and squeezed it. She didn't look sad anymore, just a little confused. A little uncertain, maybe afraid. He understood that. Love could be scary as hell. "Meadow, I wish I'd found you sooner."

"You found me," she said, and gripped his hand in return. "That's what counts."

"I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you'll let me." Rafe eased to sit in the chair next to her, unwilling to release her hand for fear of losing that connection forever. "I swear, Meadow. I can't undo the past but we can make the future better together."

A hint of a smile touched her eyes and something in his chest eased. Meadow glanced at the stove. "You can start with dinner. Okay?"

"Done." He paused to kiss her again, still almost chaste, before returning to dinner with the single-minded determination that Ruby hated. He would feed his mate and she would stay with him and everything would be right in the world. Rafe stole glances at Meadow periodically but she seemed to be in her own world, frowning across the room and occasionally taking a deep breath. It didn't matter to him. He didn't know how to admit it, but he'd felt part of himself dying with each day that passed before he found her. And that part of him came alive when he caught her in the street outside the trendy bar and she told him to back off or he'd get a taser in his junk. Rafe smiled as he prepared a bowl of spaghetti for each of them.

Life would be exciting with a muse for a mate. The wolf still didn't really know what that meant, but they were both looking forward to finding out.

I
felt unbearably exposed again
after confessing how I felt about Rafe, and shyness overtook me as he brought over spaghetti, garlic bread, and the bottle of wine. I floundered for a safe conversational topic, but gave up and drank more wine to build up the courage to ask what I really wanted to know. "All that stuff about mates that you and Smith were arguing about — what does that mean?"

Rafe nodded, stirring his spaghetti as he pondered. "Well, it's complex and can end up a lot of different ways, to be honest. It means whatever we want it to mean, Meadow. I can say what I want to see happen. We've only known each other a short time, though, so I don't want to scare you."

"Scare me?" I laughed, studying him from beneath my eyelashes. "What would scare me?"

"The wolf thing, to start," he said. Rafe smiled and caught my hand, playing with my fingers. "And the mate thing, that I've been looking for you. If it were my choice, Meadow, we'd get married tomorrow. Tonight if we could swing it. And we would find a nice apartment or a house in a good part of the city, live together. Cook together." His grip tightened on my hand and his voice went all husky and low. "Do everything together."

I flushed at the implications. Living with him, sleeping with him, waking up with him every morning. I concentrated on where he held my hand, the broad fingers and myriad of small scars. "But what about the bar and your sister? The pack?"

"Ruby and Carter have their own place. And I'd still be alpha. I'd just be an alpha who didn't get woken up at three in the morning by bar fights and shitty college bands playing for free." He laughed and handed me another piece of garlic bread. "And the pack would be a lot happier, I'm sure, since I wouldn't be so pissed off at them all the time."

I made a thoughtful noise and turned back to my spaghetti. It tasted delicious, and I could have eaten the entire mess of it. I was already looking forward to the leftovers for lunch the next day. "So why would that scare me?"

"Because we've known each other two days and I would have married you the first night. And..." He hesitated and my heart sank. He couldn't be all good news. I braced for the other shoe to drop and stomp all over my dreams. Rafe rubbed his forehead and leaned back in his chair. "Ruby can be tough to deal with, and there's a degree of responsibility that comes with being an alpha's mate."

"Ruby? She seemed nice."

"Carter being around has helped smooth off some of her rougher edges, but she's as much an alpha as I am. Sometimes more of one. She's always going to be the female alpha of the pack, and for a long time, we were concerned that that would cause friction with my mate."

I reached for my wine glass and laughed, shaking my head. "I don't know anything about wolf packs, so she can stay the alpha as long as she wants."

His eyebrows rose and he leaned forward across the table, his gaze intense. I froze, flushing, and when he didn't speak, I held my hands up. "What? Why are you staring at me?"

"It sounded like you're in. Like you'll be my mate and join the pack."

The impact of what I'd said sunk in, but I didn't deny it. I didn't back away from it or claim it was a slip. I looked at him and imagined the life he'd described, struck by how close it was to the vision I'd had when I read his palm. Almost perfection. So I nodded, my heart in my throat. "Yeah. I think I am. And I will. I want to give it a shot."

A smile spread across his face like warm honey, and he caught my face, dragging me to him for a kiss. Even with the garlic and onion and spaghetti sauce, it was the most passionate kiss I'd ever had. I could have drowned in him. Rafe grumbled and pulled me into his lap, stroking my throat. "Tomorrow we start looking for an apartment."

The apartment whirled around me in a dizzying circle, the warmth and happiness almost overwhelming, and I leaned against him as I closed my eyes. "Can we watch a movie or something first?"

"Best idea I've heard all day." Rafe's lips drifted across my forehead and down my temple, and his palm rested low on my stomach until I wanted to squirm against him. "I'll put away dinner while you get settled."

I hobbled over to the old but comfortable couch, my heart racing as I searched for the remote and something to watch. He cooked
and
he cleaned up. Forget about shifters and fae and muses — he was the most unusual thing I'd met in my entire life. Unpredictable, unexpected, and altogether amazing. By the time I picked out a generic comedy and floundered over where to sit on the couch, Rafe finished cleaning up and joined me. He flopped onto the couch next to me and put his feet up on the coffee table, then drew me close to his side. I concentrated on breathing as he made that contented noise again and his arm settled around me. The steady rise and fall of his breathing calmed me immediately, and his body heat warmed me through as he tucked a blanket around us. Rafe sighed and leaned in enough to kiss my forehead. "Perfect."

I didn't care about the movie as my head rested on his shoulder and my eyes drifted closed. I touched his leg under the blanket and Rafe smiled, his arm tightening. "I thought you wanted to take things slow."

"Making out on the couch is slow," I said, biting my lip as I looked up at him. "Slow enough."

He laughed and his hand slid into my hair, drawing me close until his mouth found mine. His lips were soft and gentle but a little demanding, in control. I sighed and opened to him, invited him in, until he consumed me. Heat and fire and the soft insistence of his tongue lit me from inside, desire coiling low in my stomach until I pressed against him and rethought the whole 'taking it slow' thing. He tugged at the waist of my jeans as I sprawled next to him on the couch, and Rafe kissed the sensitive spot behind my ear as his arm slid around me. His hand eased under my jeans, under the thin cotton panties, and drifted against my slit.

I jumped, every inch of me on fire with need, and I resisted the urge to tear off my clothes and push him to the floor. I'd spent so long avoiding anything that made me feel strong emotions that I almost came just from the gentle pressure of his fingertip, tracing slow circles around my clit. I wanted him. He represented all the big things in life, the risks that were scary as hell but could pay off big-time. I tried to control my breathing as I gripped his wrist, wanting to encourage him to go faster or deeper or anything. My cheeks burned and I couldn't look at him.

Rafe grumbled and then dragged me into his lap, my butt snuggled against his groin until I could feel the hard press of his erection against my ass. My head fell back against his shoulder as I sprawled across him, and Rafe's hand moved further under my jeans. I moaned as he pressed a finger deep into me, easing out and back in again in a gentle rhythm. My hips moved to meet him and I held his wrist tighter. Rafe's other hand slid over my stomach and up to my breast, squeezing it over my shirt and bra, but it was enough that I tensed. He kissed the side of my neck. "What do you want, Meadow?"

What did I want. It was a great question. All I wanted was to be normal. To be sane and normal. But more than that, I wanted him. I wanted all of him that I could get, for as long as I could manage. I wanted his magic fingers and strong arms and those amazing lips, and I wanted the hard cock that almost set my ass on fire. I ground back against him and squeezed his wrist, urging his hand to move deeper, faster. "I want you. I want you to make me come."

He growled, a savage, needy sound, and plunged three fingers into me. I arched and cried out, tightening around him. The ecstasy came in waves as he kept moving, kept driving me over the cliff over and over, until I sagged back against him and panted, wordless.

Rafe didn't move his hand from where it rested against me, and kissed my shoulder as a tremor ran through me. "You're amazing."

I closed my eyes and tried to touch his face, even though my arms didn't work really well. "Take me to bed."

"You're tired?" He started to remove his hand and I shivered, empty and cold without his warmth, and Rafe picked me up.

As he carried me toward my bedroom, I caught his face in my hands and whispered against his lips, "I want to see all of you. I want to feel all of you."

Rafe froze mid-stride, only half-way to the bed. His eyebrows rose and his eyes flashed gold for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"I'm tired of waiting." I kissed him as fiercely as I dared, demanding and hungry and needy. I even bit his lower lip and Rafe growled.

He covered the distance to my bed in one giant step, then sat me on the queen size mattress so he could see my face. "You're sure, Meadow?"

I pulled off my shirt and threw it toward the hamper, then reached for the hem of his sweater. "Yes."

Rafe chuckled and helped, kicking off his shoes and helping remove mine. He took his time dragging my pants off, careful of the cast, but I blinked and then he was naked, kneeling over me on the bed. I took a breath at the sight of him — all strapped muscle, rippling across his chest and abs, over an impressive cock. It stood out, straight and absolutely enormous, and for a moment I wondered whether it was actually a good idea. He must have seen it, the hesitation, because he started to retreat. "Maybe this isn't —"

I sat forward and seized his cock, wrapping my hand around it as I sucked in a breath; it felt heavy and hard in my grip as I stroked it, and Rafe cursed. I looked up at him as I lowered my mouth to lick the tip of his cock, and Rafe's jaw clenched and the muscles in his shoulders bulged. I took the head in my mouth, sucking gently as I stroked, and watched his face in fascination as his expression changed. He groaned and his hand rested on the back of my head, exerting a gentle pressure until I took more of him. I used my hands as well, since there was no way in hell I could take all of him in my mouth, and Rafe helped set an easy rhythm.

He tasted salty and musky, and slid against my lips and tongue in long strokes. I couldn't take it and reached down to touch myself, squirming with the need to feel more. Rafe growled and then captured my hands, pulling back until his cock popped out of my mouth. He nudged me to lay back, and I inhaled sharply as I watched his body lower toward mine. Rafe guided himself, stroking the heavy length against my slit over and over until I trembled and shivered and hovered on the verge of another orgasm.

The broad head pressed against me and I cried out, the pressure building as he thrust inch after inch into me. It didn't end, filling me until I thought I might tear open, until the walls of my channel stretched and shivered and clutched at him. My nails dragged long furrows down his back as Rafe slid home and stilled, his stomach pressed to mine as I squirmed and writhed under his weight. I moaned, pressing my hips up at him. I was so close. I just needed a little more.

He slowly withdrew, his eyes a blaze of gold as he watched my face. "Say my name."

"Rafe," I said, though it came out more of an indecent moan. I caught at his hair, tried to drag his mouth to mine. "Please."

He moved faster, forcefully, until the entire bed moved and the headboard smacked the wall in a steady beat that was a dead giveaway to the neighbors. I gave zero shits about what they thought and hung on to Rafe as he pushed up on his elbows for better leverage. He grabbed my thigh, tugged my leg up and out so he could tilt my hips and slam home deeper, harder. I writhed and called his name again and again as I fell off the cliff and every muscle in my body seized up. He pounded through it, pounded through me, and I could only grip his shoulders as he growled my name in return.

Mates. I kissed him in a daze as Rafe collapsed on top of me, his breathing harsh, and I waited for the tremors to subside. Every breath he drew sent more lightning through me, and I knew if he moved his legs I would come again. I stroked his hair and sighed. Absolutely perfect.