Feral Heat
Page 12

She rose on tiptoes, running fingers through his short hair, kissing him as though she couldn’t get enough. Jace felt his frenzy reply—need, mate, don’t let go.
Deni pushed away from him with a suddenness that robbed him of breath. Cold air filled in where she’d been, and Jace felt suddenly empty.
Deni was staring up at him, her chest rising with her agitation. “Sorry. I can’t control—”
Jace’s returning breath hurt him. “It’s not control I’m looking for.”
“I am.”
Because of her accident, she meant, her fear it was making her go feral. “I get that,” Jace said. He clasped her elbows. “But that’s over, Deni. You survived. I won’t let you lose it when you’re with me—I promise.”
She shuddered. “I just wish—”
“Wish what?” Jace drew her closer again, running his hands up her arms to cup her shoulders. “Tell me what you want.”
“To be normal again. A year ago, I would have snatched up someone like you, taken you somewhere private, and not come out until we were done enjoying ourselves.”
Jace grinned down at her. “Me too. With you, I mean.”
“But now.” Deni shuddered but she didn’t pull away. “I’m afraid to let myself go.”
“Yeah,” Jace said, his voice quieter. “Me too.” That’s why they’d sent Jace to Austin to liaise and test the Collar control problem. Jace was trustworthy, dependable. Could keep a secret. Could take pain and not go crazy from it. He didn’t need anyone to hold his hand, never had.
He liked to stay in control, be strong. But tonight . . .
“Come on,” Deni said. She laced her hand through his, tugging him along with her. “Best I get home.”
Jace’s heart still thrummed from the kiss—Deni’s taste, her scent, the warmth of her body imprinted on his. The feral being deep inside him growled in frustration, wanting out.
Keep it together. He was supposed to be helping Deni stay calm. But as Jace walked behind her, watching her hips sway while her hand was hot in his, he wondered which of them would prove to be the stronger.
* * *
Will and Jackson, Deni’s sons, were home. Deni’s heart lightened when she saw their pickup in the driveway and the lights glowing in the house. Home. Safety.
Jace’s scent like wild sage wrapped around her as she led him up onto the porch. Her idea that he could go sleep at Liam’s or Spike’s didn’t seem as good now. Deni didn’t like the thought of him saying good-bye and walking away.
“Sweet ride,” Jace said, gesturing at the motorcycle parked next to the pickup. “Yours?”
Deni nodded, her heart squeezing. “Ellison bought it for me after mine was totaled.” She glanced at it and turned resolutely away.
“And you haven’t ridden it,” Jace said. “Shame.”
“Isn’t it?” Deni jerked open the door to the house. She was not going to let Jace talk her into getting on the motorcycle tonight. She’d done well riding Liam’s bike home, but she still shook from it. Too much too soon.
Jace followed her inside without further word. Deni entered her haven, filled with the scents of her sons, her brother, and his mate. Soon her brother and mate would have their first cub, and more laughter would fill the house.
“Mom.”
Will, her youngest, already twenty-four, came to Deni as she entered the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her. She hugged him back, her beloved son. After a long time, Will lifted his head, looked her up and down, and asked, “What the hell happened to you?”
“Fight,” Deni said. “But I’m okay. I rode, Will. Liam’s bike—all the way from the fight club.”
Will’s eyes widened, but Jackson, two years older than Will, said, “And you were at the fight club why?” He came forward, greeting Deni by giving her a hug from the side. Will hadn’t moved.
Neither son acknowledged Jace standing quietly near the door. Will and Jackson were still technically cubs, though they were in their twenties—adults in human terms. They hadn’t gone through their Transitions yet. They were clinging to Deni as instinctively as they had when they’d been tiny, waiting for her to either tell them the strange Shifter was a friend, or for them to join together to attack him.
Deni also knew they scented Jace on her, and her on him, and known what they’d done. Before the accident, they’d have started teasing her. Now they waited, uncertain.
“This is Jace Warden,” she said. “He’s staying with us tonight.”
“Oh yeah?” Jackson finally eyed Jace, though he didn’t go so far as to pin him with a defiant stare. “Why’s that?”
“Dylan invited him out here,” Deni said. “But Dylan’s been arrested.”
As she’d guessed, the announcement made the boys put aside their nervousness and barrage her with questions, starting with What? Are you serious?
Jace helped Deni fill them in on the story. Once Will and Jackson were more relaxed with Jace, Deni went to her room, washed up, changed her clothes, then returned to the kitchen and started putting together sandwiches. Big ones. She was hungry.
The boys and Jace devoured everything she set down on the table. Deni watched her sons relax even more as Jace talked. He really did have the knack of putting everyone at ease.
The sight of him hulking at the table, shoveling down roast beef, ham, and turkey on three different kinds of bread while Will and Jackson hung on his words made Deni’s heart ache again. This is what she should have had with her mate and cubs—a family, laughing, talking, eating, sharing. Deni’s mate had died of illness long ago, robbing Deni of the life she’d wanted. Being shoveled into a Shiftertown had been even more bewildering. But they’d made it, she, Ellison, Jackson, and Will.
Here they were, and now Jace seemed to complete the picture.
“Seriously, Mom,” Will said, his mouth full. “Why did you go to the fight club? You know what happens . . .”
Deni reached across the table for the butter and slapped some onto her slab of bread. “Because I was tired of sitting at home huddled up in a shawl. Ronan and Elizabeth offered to give me a lift out to the fight club, and I took them up on it. I thought it would do me good to get out and have fun.”
“You could have gone to the bar,” Jackson said, frowning. “Safer.”