Palm Haven Shifters: Complete Five-Part Series Page 14
He broke the kiss and Ashley heard herself whimper in protest. Since when did she whimper? Callan’s forehead pressed against hers and they locked eyes.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked, clearly struggling to hold back long enough to be a gentleman.
Ashley rolled her eyes and smirked, flattening her palms on his chest and giving him a good shove back towards the bed.
“If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t be here. Now.” He fell backwards with the push of one of her fingers to his shoulder and she started to unbutton his plaid shirt. One button at a time. She drank in his sculpted muscles, the fine dusting of dark hair over his chest and abdomen. Her eyes followed her fingers as they raked over his stomach, finding resistance at the waistband of his jeans. “Why don’t you stop trying to be such a nice guy and just fuck me?”
He growled. Like actually growled, and gripped her hips with bruising force as he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her senseless again.
“My pleasure.”
Ashley’s magic pinged restlessly inside of her as Callan’s rough hands trailed over her sides, inching her shirt over her head, making her shiver in delight with every brush of his calloused palms. The cool air kissed her skin, but it wasn’t enough. She still felt stifled in her clothes.
In moments, she’d unclasped her bra and Callan took one heavy breast in his hand, kneading her sensitive flesh, twirling her nipple between expert fingers. She moaned and he leaned forward, capturing the other nipple with his mouth.
Her head fell back with another hungry moan. It was too much. So much. But not enough. Her magic urged her forward.
Ashley’s hips moved of their own accord, writhing and grinding against Callan’s impressive hardness. She needed to feel his hot steel flesh against her, but stopping this delicious friction long enough to undress him seemed impossible.
Callan unfastened her jeans and thrust his hand under the denim, stroking her through the thin cotton of her panties. They were already damp with her need and his fingers did nothing to quench that thirst. If anything it made her more parched.
She ground her hips against his fingers, desperate for release, desperate to find that completion that had eluded her for so long. Her pleasure spiraled tighter and tighter, her magic coiling deep in her womb in anticipation.
Ashley rode his hands, the dual sensations of the heel of his palm against her clit and the bulge in his pants pressing against her in all the right ways had Ashley gasping, panting.
“Oh god,” she moaned as his mouth found her nipple again. She’d never had anyone make her come with her pants still on. Something about it was so naughty and illicit that it made her feel like a rebel — a bad girl like Monica.
One of Callan’s fingers slipped under the cotton and found her entrance, slick with desire, clenching around nothing in desperation.
Ashley bit her lip, her eyes rolling backwards as she planted her hands on Callan’s chest and rode his finger for everything she was worth. Her hips moved quickly, her breaths coming in short labored gasps. Another finger slipped inside of her and they curled forward.
“Oh, fuck!” She cried, her body going rigid as the immensity of her orgasm crashed through her. Magic exploded within her like a geyser going off, filling every last cell of her being with humming power.
And yet, looking at Callan and the hungry look in his eyes, Ashley knew she wanted more.
His fingers still twitched inside her, carrying her through the aftershocks of her pleasure. She wasted no time in wiggling out of her jeans and stripping him of his.
Ashley had to admire the proud jut of his erection tenting his boxers. He was big, and she found herself licking her lips in anticipation.
Get ahold of yourself, she chided.
Callan gripped her hips and flipped her over, spreading her knees apart as he trailed kissed up her inner thigh. His hands followed, lighting the fire in her anew.
“Mmm, I could watch you come a hundred times,” he growled, his hot breath tickling the damp fabric stretched over her sex.
Ashley moaned and wriggled underneath him. She needed his touch. His tongue. His…
Her train of thought stopped as Callan brushed over a spot on her inner thigh with his thumb again and again.
“This is an interesting tattoo,” he rumbled, kissing up her leg, his sandpaper jaw making her shiver with anticipation.
But Ashley stilled: what did he mean interesting? Her tattoo was the Eye of Providence, one of the symbols of the Coven. Nearly all witches carried one or more of the symbols on them at all times — it was a way to channel and control their magic. Did he recognize it?
Suddenly, Ashley came to her senses. She had no idea who this man was or what — if anything — he knew about her or her sisters.
She wriggled free of his clutches and her heart clenched guiltily at the bewildered expression he wore.
“I… have to go,” she murmured, reaching for her clothes.
His hand circled her wrist, stopping her. “Wait, what? Did I say something wrong?” His golden eyes shimmered with confusion and hurt. Ashley’s eyes traveled down his body to his still-erect cock and felt another pang of guilt.
This had been a huge mistake.
“No… you were wonderful it’s… me,” she said lamely. “I… don’t do this. I can’t. I’m sorry.” She hopped into her jeans once more, praying silently that she hadn’t outed herself as a witch by trying to have sex with a stranger. Normally it wouldn’t phase her much, but she’d never had anyone comment on it. It made her uneasy.
Callan’s grip on her wrist loosened and his eyes flashed with something… predatory? Possessive? Had she jumped to conclusions assuming he was human?
Ashley shook her head. She was being ridiculous and paranoid. Even as guilt gnawed at her, she knew she needed to go home and plan her course of action for circumventing the Coven. She’d done what she set out to: her magic was full to bursting at this point and though sex did sound appealing, she knew she didn’t expressly need it anymore.
As she reached the door, his voice rang out behind her, soft and plaintive.
“Wait…”
Her hand dropped from the doorknob and she turned.
Chapter 6
CALLAN
For a moment, time stood still. Ashley’s hand hovered over the door knob and those wild green eyes made him suck in a breath. He didn’t know what he wanted to say, but he had to say something.
“You don’t have to be in such a hurry,” he said softly, taking a timid step toward her as if she were a startled doe. He didn’t want to spook her and he felt that any sudden movements would send her darting off into the night and out of his life.
The bear roared at that idea. They couldn’t let her go. Not now. Not after they found her and came so close to having her.
“I…” her gaze fell to the floor and her cheeks colored. “I’m really sorry. I never should have come here.”
He took another step towards her, testing the ground before he moved as if it were thin ice prone to breaking at any moment.
“We don’t have to…” He shifted himself in his pants, zipping them up as he did. “I just… want to get to know you.”
Something flickered in her eyes and for a moment, Callan thought he’d convinced her to stay.
She took a deep breath and shook her head. “You really don’t.” Her hand closed on the door knob once more and Callan’s bear reared up in protest. He couldn’t let her go. Not like this. Not when the bear wanted to claim her as a mate. Not when he was only just beginning to realize how wonderful and complete her presence made him feel.
Surely, it couldn’t end like this.
In a last ditch effort to save this train wreck, he took another step forward, barely an inch separating them now. He felt Ashley’s breath hitch in her chest and knew she was as torn about her decision as he was about letting her leave.
“At least give me your number,” he tried, one of his hands moving to her hip i
nstinctively.
Ashley’s eyes darted to that hand and Callan held his breath, waiting for her to shove it aside.
She didn’t.
Instead, she drew her bottom lip between her teeth and nibbled on it thoughtfully. “I…” Her eyes met his and he saw the same curiosity reflected there that he felt himself. The wondering what this was. The barest hope that it could be as good as he thought. That the potential between them was a force to be reckoned with. He saw the glimmer of intrigue there and thought maybe… just maybe, there was still hope.
Finally, she agreed and scribbled her number on a scrap piece of paper before flitting away into the night and out of his life.
She didn’t even give him a chance to offer to walk her to her car.
He stared at that scrap of paper, admiring the swooping lines of her writing. Was it too soon to call her? She’d only just walked out the door but already her absence weighed on him like an elephant on his chest.
Callan didn’t have time to consider the thought for more than a split-second; as he reached for his phone, it lit up with a call.
Ashley? His bear reared up with excitement, thinking she’d had second thoughts about leaving.
But no. She didn’t have his number. It was Reed, his best friend.
Callan’s grip on the phone tightened. Maybe he could just crush it if he tried hard enough. But then how would he call Ashley?
“What?” He growled into the phone as he answered.
“Emergency Ursa meeting,” Reed said without fanfare.
Callan’s eyes drifted toward the red LEDs of his alarm clock. It was awfully late for a meeting.
“At nearly midnight? Must be some emergency,” Callan said, fishing for information.
Reed grumbled something unintelligible before saying “Busters in twenty.”
Buster’s Billiards and Brew was a shady little dive bar smack in the middle of Ursa territory. Bear-owned and run, the place generally only catered to shifters and the older clan members liked to have a central meeting place for emergency gatherings like this one.
Callan parked his rusted SUV in the back under a flickering streetlight and walked around to the front of the tiny free-standing building. Neon signs advertising various beers cluttered the grimy windows and as he opened the door a wall of smoke greeted him.
There weren’t many places left in town where one could smoke and drink at the same time, and he’d found himself in two such places in one night. Too bad he wouldn’t be taking Ashley home with him after this one, though.
His heavy steel-toed boots stuck to the concrete floor as he walked past the front bar into the back room. He wondered if the floor here had ever been mopped and then decided that was a little too gross for even him to consider. People tended to expel all manner of bodily fluids when intoxicated. Surely even a bear wouldn’t let that kind of filth pile up.
The door to the back room swung open on silent hinges and Callan took the seat next to Reed with a silent nod of his head.
“Some serious shit,” Reed muttered, not making eye contact with Callan.
Callan’s eyebrows rose of their own accord. “Yeah? What kind of serious shit?”
“Hi boys,” a cheerful feminine voice cut off Reed’s reply.
“Hi Alyssa,” they said in unison.
She batted her eyelashes at them and slid onto Reed’s lap, hooking an arm around his shoulders. “Can I get y’all something to drink? Lawrence isn’t quite ready to start the meeting.”
Callan watched as his best friend’s hand slid over the brunette’s ass, giving her a rough squeeze. Alyssa was cute; he had to admit that. Her hair was cut above her shoulders, short and bouncy just like her. Her body wasn’t too bad either, but she certainly wasn’t Ashley.
“I can think of something you could give me,” Reed growled into her ear. Callan rolled his eyes as Alyssa’s giggle punctuated the air. She smacked him on the shoulder playfully.
“You’re so bad,” she said, a twinkle of mischief in her chestnut eyes.
“You love it,” Reed husked back.
Eh, let them have each other. Shifters had crazy active sex drives and without a mate, they tended to be awfully promiscuous. He couldn’t keep track of all the women Reed bedded, but he was sure Alyssa was already among their ranks. Apparently she was gunning for a repeat performance.
He couldn’t think about anyone other than Ashley. Those curves. Those eyes. The soft whimpering moans she made as she came apart around his fingers. He was already half-hard just thinking about it. Maybe he’d call her after the meeting. Or was that still too soon?
Yesterday didn’t seem soon enough and he hadn’t even known her then. What the hell was wrong with him?
Lawrence, their leader — an older man with silvering hair and a beard down to his chest — walked in and a hush fell over the gathered bears.
“What’s with the emergency meeting?” Shouted Cherry from the front row. Cherry was a larger woman — big-boned some would say — with a permanent look of steely suspicion in her hazel eyes and a perpetual frown etched into the lines of her face.
“Why don’t you let the man take five steps before you start hounding him?” Reed called back.
Alyssa skittered off of his lap, finding her own seat a few rows back, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire, Callan assumed.
“You got something to say to me, boy?” Cherry challenged, standing from her seat, barely any taller standing than she was sitting. That didn’t stop any of the larger bears from cowing under her scrutiny. Cherry was old-school. No nonsense. She wouldn’t hesitate to go to blows over a verbal disagreement and Reed knew that as well as any of them. Why the hell was he provoking her?
“I think I just did,” he countered.
Callan cleared his throat and sent a measured look at his best friend. No need to poke the bear — literally.
“I’ll teach you a lesson about respecting your elders, boy,” Cherry growled, the hairs on her arm standing on end as her bear bristled beneath the surface.
“Any time,” Reed sneered.
“That’s enough,” Lawrence said, taking his place at the head of the room. He didn’t have to shout. He spoke softly enough, but no one challenged him. He was their leader, after all.
Cherry huffed and sat in her seat once more, her arms crossed and her foot shaking impatiently. She was itching for a brawl and Reed was stupid enough to fall for it.
“The reason I’ve called this meeting is because there has been some disturbing new information brought to my attention. Many of you felt the wave of magical power a few nights ago—”
Murmurs rose up around the room as bears shared stories amongst each other, each more outlandish and exaggerated than the next.
“I know we were unsure of the origin of this magic, but we now know it was the Coven’s doing.”
“Witches?” Alyssa asked, her eyes wide with fear.
“What do they want?” Marcel, another bear a few years older than Callan, called out.
Lawrence let the questions die down naturally before continuing, “The witches are our natural enemies and they’ve declared war. That was a spell to destroy all shifters. Clearly it failed, but they’ve shown their hand and we cannot let it go unanswered.”
Callan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He’d never really liked all of this us vs. them mentality the clan had against other supernaturals.
He was the only one with any reservations about the warmongering, though, it appeared. Everyone else roared with outrage, declaring the demise of the Coven.
Lawrence held up a hand to silence everyone again and the room quietly seethed collectively.
“The tigers have allied themselves with the witches—”
“We should ally with the wolves!” Marcel offered from the back row.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Reed spat in his direction.
Cherry didn’t look happy about it, but she agreed, “Wolves are untrustworthy and power-hungry.”
“Not to mention aggressive to a fault,” Reed added.
Marcel shrank away from the fight, realizing he was outnumbered.
Though the bears were the strongest of the three shifter types in Palm Haven, they lacked the numbers of the wolves or the financial resources of the tigers. They were ill-equipped to launch an offensive and Lawrence persuaded the clan that their best bet was to remain vigilant and keep a strong defensive perimeter around their territory.
“Under no circumstances should a witch be trusted,” he said.
Callan’s heart skidded to a stop as he remembered the tattoo on Ashley’s inner thigh. He wasn’t positive, but he was pretty sure that it was a symbol of the Coven. Was she simply a fan of their work? An admirer of the occult?
He remembered the way she reacted to him noticing the small triangle containing a single eye. It was similar to the symbol on the back of a dollar bill, but apparently there were Coven members in America’s history as far back as you could go. Maybe she was a history buff?
But the way his bear responded to her… The way she made his heart soar and his soul light. The way her touch sent sparks of electricity along his skin… Maybe she was a witch.
If that was the case, he knew there was no hope for them being together, though he didn’t know how he’d ever stay away.
Chapter 7
ASHLEY
Ashley didn’t manage to get much sleep that night. She tossed and turned, her bothersome magic ping-ponging restlessly through her system. Searching. Seeking. Reaching out to… him. Callan.
She could curse herself for walking out on him like she had, but maybe it was for the best. The way he made her feel, the way her magic responded to him… Distractions were dangerous, especially when the leader of the Coven was gunning for her. No matter how much she wanted to track him down and have her way with him — for real this time — Ashley knew it wasn’t the wisest course of action.
At least her brief tryst with Callan wasn’t all for naught. Her magic was at full force. Maybe even stronger than usual. She couldn’t argue with those kinds of results.