Wicked Cravings (The Phoenix Pack 2)

“Ooh yeah, we so should. But wait, I don’t have a permit. You?”

“No. Damn. We’ll get one tomorrow, and then we’ll assassinate His Alpha-ness.” She and Jaime shook hands and nodded.

A random thought suddenly popped into Jaime’s head. “Why do you think spiders travel alone? It has to be pretty lonely. Really lonely. I’m lonely.” Shaya’s head whipped around to face her. “What? Why? No, you can’t be lonely. That’s not allowed.”

“There’s just this big gulf between Dante and me. But it’s fine. It’s totally fine.”

“It’s not fine.”

“No, it’s not. I should tell him that. Gimme my phone.” She held out her hand, but it flopped onto her chest.

“You know, I think he really cares for you.”

Jaime gasped, feeling suddenly optimistic. “You do?”

“It’s practically tattooed on his forehead. Ooh—let’s get a tattoo.”

“Yeah!” Jaime rolled onto her side. “We totally should. Let’s do it tomorrow.”

“Totally. Definitely. What’re you getting? I’m thinking of getting ‘Nick Axton Is a Fuck-Ass’

right across my forehead.”

Jaime pursed her lips as she considered it. “I like it. It’s different. It has an edge to it.”

“I know, right?”

Patting the ground to her left, Jaime frowned. Gazing around and finding no sign of what she was looking for, her frown deepened. “Did you hide my drinks?” Shaya shook her head. “No, why?”

“I came out with, like, eight, and they’re gone.”

“You sure you didn’t drink them all?”

“I can’t have, or I’d be drunk, wouldn’t I?”

“Oh yeah, I never thought of it like that.”

Suddenly four heads were peering down at them, smiling in amusement, but only one held Jaime’s attention. “Hey, Popeye, how’s it going?”

“Popeye,” chuckled Shaya with a pig-like snort. Tao, Trick, and Marcus chuckled, too.

“What you doing down there, baby?” Dante asked, smiling. She was absolutely wasted. Seeing the eight empty bottles at her feet, he could guess why.

“We’re just talking,” replied Jaime. “You’ve heard of talking, right? It’s what people do on the phone. Well, those who answer it.”

Dante winced. Yeah, he deserved that. “I’m sorry, I am. I just had a lot of paperwork, and I was trying to get through it quickly so I could get back to you.”

“Aw, that’s so nice,” whispered Shaya, sounding close to tears.

He squatted down and stroked Jaime’s hair. “Come on, baby, let me take you inside.”

“Dude, you can’t.” Panic was in her voice.

“Why not?”

“We’re supposed to be getting drunk.”

“Well, I think you’ve both accomplished that. Come on, don’t make me go to bed alone. I’ve missed you.”

Shaya looked at Jaime. “Aw, he’s good, isn’t he?”

“His mouth is talented in more ways than one. I recall nearly passing out once.” Both girls went into a giggling fit.

Shaking his head and smiling, Dante picked her up and cradled her against him. Surrounded by her scent, he suddenly felt much more at ease, and the tension that had been riding him all day began to leave his body. Only she had the ability to calm and settle him like that. “Come on. Maybe you can tell me what possessed you to get wasted.”

“That was why I called you,” she mumbled against his T-shirt as he carried her. “I wanted to tell you.”

“Tell me what, baby?”

“Ben’s dead.”

“Ben? Who’s Ben?”

“The dog at the sanctuary. I used to sit in his cage with him.” His eyes fell closed as guilt jabbed him. “Ah, baby, I’m sorry.” He recalled how tenderly she’d stroked the dog, how she’d looked at him with such affection. Christ. Dante didn’t think he’d ever felt this much like shit in his life. There he’d been, with his head buried in his work, deliberately ignoring her attempts to contact him, and all this time she’d really needed him.

Sure, it was his job to take care of the pack, but Jaime was pack, too. He’d been thinking of her as the distracting girlfriend, forgetting that she was also among those who needed him. He’d let down the one person he would never wish to let down, the one person who didn’t deserve it.

“I’m so sorry about Ben, baby,” he said again once they were in their room. Sitting her on the edge of the bed, he tugged off her shoes. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. It was shitty of me not to answer the phone or call you back.”

“Why didn’t you? Don’t you want me anymore? Am I boring you now? Wait! Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”

Guilt stabbed him again. He’d made her doubt him, had made her question her own self-worth.

God, he really was a bastard. “You could never bore me, and yes, I definitely want you. I’ll always want you.”

“Prove it,” she dared, lying back.

“Oh no. Not right now. You’re wasted, and you need to sleep it off.” Not that he wasn’t absolutely desperate to have her.

“No, I don’t. I need you inside me.” She needed to know he still wanted her. Needed to feel secure in his desire for her again. But he shook his head as he neatly positioned her shoes on the shoe rack. Freak.

“I’ll prove it to you in the morning.”

It was sweet that he really thought she was so easily put off.

In a swift, fluid movement that Dante hadn’t seen coming, Jaime bolted upright, dropped to her knees in front of him, and unbuttoned his fly. “Whoa, baby, no.”

“No? Huh. Your body’s saying yes.” She licked the head of his hard, ready-to-go c*ck and blew on it.

Dante shuddered and bit back a groan. She hadn’t sucked him off yet, and he knew why: dominant females only did o*al s*x on their own terms. This, unfortunately, didn’t count. “No, Jaime, you’re drunk.”

“Objection, I’m tipsy.” She gave his c*ck a long lick from base to tip and smiled when it twitched against her lips.

He couldn’t let her do this, he couldn’t. It would be taking advantage of her while she was in this state. But, God, it would feel incredible, wouldn’t it? Those lips would feel amazing around his—

Tapping into his infamous self-control, he backed away. “Not tonight.” The little witch followed him. He backed up again. She followed him again, this time reaching out and grabbing his cock—not so tight it hurt, but tight enough that it made him hesitate in trying to back away from her again.

“Stay, Popeye.”

He ground his teeth as she began working her soft hand up and down his length with a firm, sure grip. Forcing himself to ignore the pleasure and attempt to reason with her, he placed his hand over hers to still her movements. “Not tonight, not while you’re wasted.” As if he hadn’t spoken, she let her tongue flick out to circle the head of his cock. “Fuck.”

“Well we could f**k, but you don’t want to. So I’m thinking I’ll just give you a bl*w j*b instead.”

His eyes drifted shut as she licked him again, and he was so tempted to let the pleasure sweep him under. No. He drew in a deep breath to help clear his head, but instead was assaulted by the sweet scent of her arousal. That really didn’t help. Then she licked the slit, sweeping up the precome there. “Son of a bitch, Jaime, stop.” She didn’t. She took the head into her mouth and sucked hard, wrenching another loud groan from him. The heat of her mouth was unbelievable, but he couldn’t let her do this. He yanked on her hair, tugging her head back. “I said stop.” She looked up to see his lips set into a hard line and a burning resolve in his eyes—both of which told her not to disobey him. Snort. He should know her better than that by now. “I want to taste you.”

He groaned. What guy wouldn’t want to hear those words? And hearing them in that carnal voice while she was on her knees in front of him…It was his fantasy come to life, and he wanted it so badly. “If you still want to do it in the morning, I’m definitely game. But not right now. If I let you do it, you’ll be pissed with me when the alcohol’s out of your system.” He felt her go lax as her grip on him loosened, and she nodded. “Good girl.”

He released her hair and was about slip his hand under her arm to pull her to her feet when she surprised him by shooting forward and clamping those plush lips around his c*ck again. “Shit!

Jaime…Jaime, I’m not a saint.” She sucked so hard her cheeks hollowed as her head bopped up and down on him. “Jaime…” The witch sucked harder while at the same time massaging his balls with one hand. He shuddered when the head hit the back of her throat as she sucked him deeper. Worse, she grazed him lightly with her teeth just before he felt her throat contracting around him. Fuck it. He slid one hand to the back of her head and tangled it in her hair. “Harder. Oh yeah, baby, that’s it. God, that feels so good.”

Jaime smiled triumphantly around his cock. She had him. She’d splintered his self-control, which meant that he still wanted her as badly as he had before. Rewardingly, she danced her tongue along his shaft, enjoying bringing him this pleasure that she knew he’d wanted for a while.

“That’s it.” Keeping his grip on the back of her head, he fed her more of him. “Suck me deep, Jaime. Take as much of me as you can.”

She could tell by the sound of his voice that he wasn’t expecting her to take all that much of him. But there was something he didn’t know about her, and it made her smile inwardly.

As Dante watched her swallow his entire length—something that no one had ever done before

—he almost came right then. No gag reflex. “Shit, baby.” He drank in the sight she made, knowing it was burned into his memory. “You look so damn gorgeous down there with my c*ck in your mouth.” Her eyes briefly darted up to his. “Are you mine, Jaime?”

It wasn’t a question, Jaime knew. Flicking a look at his face again, she saw the warning in his eyes to give him the answer he wanted. Knowing he would lose all control if she didn’t even slightly object, she simply nodded. He growled his approval, wrapped her hair around both his fists, and began f**king her mouth.

“Suck harder, Jaime. Make me come.” The combination of her obedience and the feeling of her claws dragging down his thighs pushed him over the edge. Growling her name, he came hard in her mouth, brushing the back of his hand down the column of her throat to ensure she swallowed it all.

For him, it was another way to mark her as his. He might not be able to claim her as his mate, but he could sure as hell mark her in as many ways as he could.

He was ready to return the favor when she suddenly flung herself on the bed in a starfish position, and he’d swear she was asleep before her head even hit the pillow. Crazy bitch.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Mom screaming. Black wolf. Blood. Growls. Black wolf. Dad shifting. Teeth. More wolves. Claws.

Mom screaming. Black wolf. Dad roaring. Claws. Black wolf. Blood. Teeth. More wolves. Dad roaring. Blood. Blood. Blood.

“Jaime, wake up, baby.”

Black wolf. Blood. Growls. Mom screaming. Black wolf. Teeth. Claws. Blood.

“Wake up.”

Mom screaming. Claws. Black wolf. Blood. Blood. Black wolf. Blood. Blood. Blood.

“Jaime, now!”

With a loud gasp, Jaime vaulted upright in the bed. Her panting quickly became a loud cry of pain as her wolf fought with everything she had to escape her cage and deal with the threat that she didn’t understand was long gone. Jaime instinctively creased over with the pain, curling her arms around her stomach to help ease the spasms. Her wolf persisted in trying to escape her confines, leaping at the walls, clawing at them, and body-slamming them as she howled in anxiety. Breathing and thinking through the familiar agony, Jaime fought to keep control, to prevent the change.

“Come here, baby, come here.” Dante curved his body around her. His wolf was frantic with the need to do something, to cancel out her pain. Snaking a hand around her throat, Dante whispered into her ear, “It’s okay, it’s okay.” But he sensed no response from her wolf. “Calm down,” he ordered, pouring authority into the words. That seemed to get her wolf’s attention, as a rebellious growl trickled out of Jaime. Good. If her wolf was focused on him, she was focused on the present as opposed to the past. “Stop.”

“I’m going to be sick,” warned Jaime as her wolf became distracted enough that she resisted fighting to surface. Leaping out of Dante’s hold, she dashed to the en-suite bathroom and vomited repeatedly into the toilet until there was nothing left. The entire time, Dante held her hair out of the way and stroked her back.

“She fought a lot harder than that time at the bar.”

Jaime simply nodded, breathing heavily.

“But you kept control, baby. You still fought off her efforts to shift.”

“Only just.”

He understood now why she so feared what her wolf might do if she took over. He’d sensed her wolf’s fear and anxiety, her need to defend and protect and to eliminate the threat she believed was there. If she had surfaced in that state, she would have attacked him or anyone else near for sure.

“You certain you still want to keep me here?”

It was a rhetorical question, he knew. She genuinely thought he’d fear her wolf now. He gripped her chin. “You’re not going anywhere.”