Trust the Moon Page 2

  Dylan sat up, his fingers curling into her discarded shirt. Without thinking, he brought it up to his face and inhaled. She didn’t smell of soap or perfume. She smelled of the desert. His blood grew hotter as she pushed the jeans past her hips, exposing her curves an inch at a time.

  “We can just keep your stuff in the car.” Dylan stood and yanked his shirt over his head. “Nobody will bother it.”

  “Whatever you want.” She dumped her shoes onto her jeans and backed into the darkness. Her eyes glowed, sliding down his bare chest to the proof of his arousal. “I hope you’re fast.”

  “I’m fast enough. Don’t worry about me.” He casually tossed the bundle of clothes into the backseat. Getting naked in front of somebody else, even a very attractive woman, wasn’t exactly uncommon in his life. Nobody shifted with their clothes on, since it was easier to just strip down. He had nothing to be ashamed of, anyway. He didn’t blush when her gaze was drawn to his erection. Even if he wore pants, he wouldn’t be able to hide the effect she had on him. And he didn’t want to.

  He smiled at her one more time, and then willed his totem animal forward. His long arms turned into dark forelegs, his face disappearing to be replaced by a black snout. He tossed his head back and howled with all the pent-up energy he’d felt since the moon crested the distant hills. Dylan raced off without looking back. She would follow him, or she wouldn’t. Either way, the farther he got from the bonfire, the faster he wanted to run.

  The party disappeared. The desert stretched out in front of him, beckoning him closer, deeper, and the burn in his muscles as he cut a swath through the darkness warmed him as much as his thick pelt. He hadn’t bragged about his speed, but the distinct scent of a female wolf behind him said Gena hadn’t been exaggerating, either. His heart pounded. His nostrils flared.

  God, she smelled good.

  The desert was his home, but when he shifted into a wolf, it felt like more than that. He had long since explored every inch he could reach, alone, with friends and with his family. That was the best part of living in Delta, in his opinion. He ran with certainty, knowing exactly where he wanted to go. Occasionally, Dylan howled, calling to Gena, encouraging her to catch him.

  He raced until he was in sight of a knoll in the distance. There was a small stream on its far side, a welcome oasis at the height of day. With nighttime blanketing the earth, the water would mirror the moonlight and turn to glass until something shattered it. The urge for a midnight swim struck him, and nothing could shake him from that desire. Especially when he thought about how Gena would look when she rose from the still pool, water and silver light clinging to her skin. Gena might have had the same thought in mind—the rocks echoed with her high-pitched howl.

  By the time they reached the knoll, the night was their only companion. There were no sounds, except their paws against the desert sand, his heart hammering in his ears and the occasional howl. When Gena came up to his side, he saw her golden red coat for the first time, flaring like a pulse of light streaking through the shadows. She nipped playfully at him without breaking stride, and he responded with a short yelp.

  The scent of the fresh water cutting through the desert overwhelmed him. Dylan splashed into the stream, drops of water splashing around him, silver in the moonlight.

  Keeping her head low, Gena charged. She butted into his shoulder, knocking him to the side, and landed atop him in the shallows. His body was longer than hers, but water was the great equalizer. It made both of them clumsy, and their short barks sounded like laughter in the clear night.

  He nipped at her, but his teeth barely made it through her thick fur. The cold water splashing over his feet and tail invigorated him. But not as much as when she returned his bites, letting her teeth sink into his flesh until he growled. They rolled down the streambed together, until she had her paws flat on his chest. His body changed beneath her, returning to his human form. Playing in the water was fun, but now that she was on top of him, he wanted more.

  Gena didn’t seem to mind the shift. She bent her head and licked along his neck, slowly changing shape again until her pelt was gone and her graceful fingers caressed his skin. Dylan pushed his hand through her hair, his wet fingers winding through the thick tresses, and brought her mouth down to his. He didn’t know what to expect from her mouth, but it wasn’t the clash of teeth against his lips. He tightened his hold in her hair and wrestled with her for control, until he pushed his tongue past her lips to twine with hers. His cock nudged against her thigh, heavy with his desire.

  Her satisfied groan vibrated through both of them. Any doubts he might have had that she wanted this as much as he did vanished. He didn’t know who she was, whether she was somebody’s cousin or friend who’d bummed along for free beer, but he no longer cared. Here, under the moonlight, they were just two people hungry for each other’s bodies, fitting together in every way possible. His extra inches on her tall frame aligned them perfectly. All she had to do was spread her legs, wind her feet behind his calves in the shallow water, and there he was, nestled in her folds.

  Gena rubbed up and down his cock, the ebb and flow of the stream mirroring her motions. When he loosened his hold in her hair, she immediately sought out other areas to bite and kiss—his jaw, his chin, his neck. His mouth watered. He wanted his own taste.

  Dylan’s hand moved from her hip, his fingers trailing up her spine, and then back down her body. Rocks pressed into his back at odd, uncomfortable places, but he didn’t care about that. Not when her skin was so smooth, and her nipples hard points against his chest. He dipped his hand between her thighs, fingertips searching out her heated flesh. She continued to slide against him, spreading her juices over his shaft, making his head spin.

  He pushed two fingers into her tight channel, knuckles curling to seek out her G-spot. Her walls clenched around him and she yelped, her whole body tensing with anticipation.

  “God, Gena. You’re so hot.”

  And getting hotter by the second the more he explored her body. She squeezed around his fingers, but as much as he wanted to replace them with his cock, Dylan wasn’t ready for that. He wanted to savor this. He had a shitload of presents waiting for him back at the bonfire, but he had a sneaking suspicion getting this time with Gena was going to be his favorite gift. There was something wild about her, something so primal he couldn’t look away. Not even when Gena peeled their chests apart, keeping her arms close to her body so her breasts thrust closer to his mouth.

  “Lucky for me you decided to have your party out here instead of in town,” she breathed.

  Dylan lifted his head from the rushing water and closed his lips around her hard nipple. He held the flesh between his teeth and flicked his tongue, his balls aching each time she moaned. Her pussy tightened around his fingers, and all he could think about was feeling her tight channel embracing his cock. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so on edge, so ready to lose himself in a girl. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled his fingers from her.

  “Lucky for me too.” He licked over the curve of her breast, then sought out her mouth again.

  Gena seemed to sink into his kisses. He felt like he was drowning in the raging fire their bodies created. They moved their lower halves together, his withdrawing, hers lifting, until she caught the tip of his erection with her opening and slowly lowered herself along his shaft. The first few inches made both of them moan. She was even tighter than he’d anticipated, hotter than her skin attested. By the time her clit ground into the coarse hair at the base of his cock, they were both trembling, clinging to the other for balance.

  “Oh my God…” Dylan gasped. “I can’t believe how good…”

  The words died in his throat as soon as she shifted her angle, and his fingers tightened reflexively. It wasn’t that he didn’t mean what he said—he did—but he couldn’t talk when she flexed around him. She dropped her head, letting the tips of her hair brush across his face. It tickled, but even that couldn’t distract fr
om the pleasure rolling through him. He lifted her forward, forcing inches of his cock out of her channel. She resisted, slamming back down, squeezing his shaft. Was it a question of dominance? A battle of wills? He didn’t want to fight her, but he lifted her again, working against her resistance. Between the two of them, they established a pattern of long and slow alternating with hard and fast strokes.

  It only took seconds to realize that she wasn’t holding anything back from him. Shifters were naturally stronger than normal humans, but he was used to the girls his age doing everything possible to control that strength, to restrain it. The fact that she didn’t just made him want her more. He didn’t have to check himself, either. He countered her struggles for dominance with his own force. He dug into her soft flesh, held her as close as he wanted, moved as hard as he cared to.

  Her head bent, hiding her face from him. The sharp bite at his nipple drove him upwards, slamming deeper into her quivering channel than he had previously gone. Gena cried out, a sound that echoed into his flesh as he lost himself in a new, possessive rhythm.

  Dylan buried one hand in her hair and pressed the other against the small of her back. She continued to nibble at his chest, occasionally biting hard enough to make him respond with the same groans that came from her. Cool water splashed around them, splattering across his arms and legs. Though she continued to push him, he dominated the tempo while his mouth and teeth landed on her smooth, pale skin. He wanted her to wear his marks. He wanted her to remember this night with as much shuddering satisfaction as he would.

  Gena clung to Dylan’s shoulders, not even protesting when he abruptly flipped their positions. It allowed him to scoop his hands beneath her ass and drive into her with even more force, force that pulled a scream from her throat, an explosion of heat beneath his palms, a riot of tremors throughout her body.

  His core body temperature rose until he thought he saw heat waves shimmering in the air. She thrashed beneath him, water splashing around them, painting his back, his neck, even the top of his head. She clutched him as she rushed towards her orgasm, writhing so hard she created a curtain of water. Her climax was almost powerful enough to send him over the edge, but he resisted the swell of pleasure. He couldn’t let this end too quickly. If he did, she would slip away from him.

  He fucked her faster, harder, thrusting in and out of her slick channel at his preferred tempo—she didn’t fight him now. But she did claw at his chest, until he tipped his head back and slammed into her one final time.

  The sound that escaped his throat wasn’t as full bodied as a howl, but it was close. His cock jumped and twitched inside her, filling her with warmth even as the water covered them. He pressed his mouth to hers, but as soon as she tensed, he pulled himself back into something softer, almost tender.

  Her arms wrapped around him. She traced the scratches she’d left on his back, marks he regretted would likely be gone by morning. His muscles trembled, and his body thrust gently in reflex, but still, he continued to kiss her, unwilling to abandon her hot, succulent mouth a second before he had to.

  Her mouth tipped into a smile when he finally gasped for breath. Her dewy skin called to him to taste, but when he tried to kiss her again, she turned her head to press her lips below his ear. “Happy birthday,” she murmured.

  “Thank you.” He didn’t want to—he really didn’t want to—but he eased out of her and sat back on his heels, letting the water wash around his legs. “I think I could spend all night looking at you. Except you’re probably cold in this water.”

  She spread her arm out to her side and half-floated in the shallows. “No, I’m fine just like this. Don’t you want to come home with me?”

  “I think we should get back before they send out the search party.”

  Her smile changed into a grimace. “It’s your party. Aren’t you allowed to have a little fun if you want it?”

  “It’s my party. That’s kind of why I need to be there. Otherwise, it’s just a party.”

  The water splashed as Gena rolled away, stepping out of the stream to stretch her arms up to the sky. The mouthwatering swell of her ass made him want to reach out and pull her back, but the picture she presented was too perfect to disrupt. He had never seen anyone who looked so completely at home under the moon. Nobody in Delta even came close to matching her.

  “Well, thanks for keeping me company. You were exactly what I needed.”

  Dylan frowned. “You’re not coming back with me?”

  “It’s not my party.” She shot him a smile as she began to wring some of the water out of her hair. “I’m just the crasher.”

  “You’re not a crasher if I invite you. Besides, your clothes are still in my car.”

  “Keep ’em. Or leave ’em there for me to pick up later. They’re just clothes.”

  “Oh. Okay. If you’re sure.” He wished he could split himself into two people. He wanted to follow her deeper into the desert, find out what else she could show him, what else she would do to him. But his friends had actually gone to a lot of work to throw him a party, and he didn’t want to disappear on them for the entire night.

  Dylan pushed himself to his feet and closed the space between them. She didn’t try to step out of his reach. He tilted his head, and her lips were soft and pliant beneath him.

  Gena looped her arm around his neck again, her body rubbing against his in wicked, wicked ways. “Sure you have to go back?” she said, nibbling on his lower lip. “We could run for hours. Just you and me. Have the whole night to ourselves.”

  “Yeah. All my friends are there. But maybe we could do this another night?”

  “Sorry.” Gena disengaged from his body, and though she offered him a rueful smile, he still felt the absence of her heat. “Hanging around civvies isn’t exactly my thing.”

  “A loner, huh?” He tried to smile, but the thought made him a little sad. He wanted to know her. He wanted to spend time with her. “That’s too bad.”

  Dylan didn’t think the conversation had anywhere else to go, so he let his features morph back into the wolf. He jumped out of the stream, pausing on the bank long enough to shake the water from his fur. He couldn’t look away from her.

  He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it sure as hell wasn’t Gena striding across the few steps between them. Crouching at his side, she buried her face in the back of his neck and simply breathed. Her fingers dug into his fur, nails scratching across the skin beneath, and the soft press of her breast against his side reminded him all over again how good she had felt. She held him like she didn’t want him to go. Maybe she didn’t. But then she was whispering thanks against his skin, standing up and moving away, shifting and taking to the air.

  Her wings whispered through the night. The silhouette she left against the sky was as elegant as the one belonging to the woman who’d writhed beneath him.

  Chapter Two

  Dylan sat perched on the roof of his house, his knees pulled up close to his chest, his eyes narrowed as he contemplated the moon. He clutched a pair of jeans in his fingers—her jeans—letting them dangle casually over the edge. If he waited one more night, the moon would be gone completely, leaving him only cold starlight to guide him as he sought her out. It would probably be easier to sneak up to her home, or her lair, or wherever she was living, in the dark. On the other hand, he didn’t think she would run far if she did notice him.

  And he didn’t want to wait another night.

  Gena Pelletier. It hadn’t been hard for Dylan to find out. Several people saw her at the party—a few even saw them leave together and witnessed his solitary return—and they were happy enough to volunteer her family name. Samson Watts added that Gena had been living in the desert, on her own, for twelve years. Or so he had heard. Samson Watts wasn’t exactly the most trustworthy source, so Dylan attempted to call his father and find out what he knew. Only Cory Peterson had been serious about his vacation to Hawaii, and Dylan hadn’t been able to get a hold of his parents at all. Dylan only
hoped that if they were out scuba diving, they were actually using scuba gear and not darting through the crystal blue water as little fish.

  He wanted his father to verify that Gena had really been living in the wild for twelve years because the thought startled Dylan. Was she living like an animal out there? Had she gone completely feral? And if so, what had prompted her to find him? Loneliness?

  Loneliness was as likely as any other explanation. Even a feral shifter would have need for human contact every now and then. Which meant that if she got lonely again, and if she wanted to see him again, she was more than capable of seeking him out. He did not need to go to her. But he wanted to go to her. And the warnings he had heard—she was wild, her family had been crazy, she couldn’t be trusted—only made him hungry for her. Just the thought of her vibrant hair was enough to make his cock twitch. Though the scratches were gone, he still had bites and bruises from their fucking, and every time he brushed against the tender skin, his cock hardened completely.

  Knowing how easily he could find her increased the temptation to unbearable levels.

  Below him, Delta began to darken, lights clicking off one by one. It was a deceptive darkness, though. The shifters in town who felt more comfortable as nocturnal animals would begin to filter out of their homes soon, slinking along the soft dirt, or soaring through the warm, summer air. If he wanted to leave undetected, he would have to leave sooner rather than later. A lesson he learned at an early age. The first time he snuck out of the house he was ten, and he thought he was being quite clever. He moved with stealth, stayed in the shadows, and finally galloped down the street on four paws, ears flat on his head, tongue lolling. Only to run into his second-grade teacher and her family. Who, in turn, were going to meet up with the high-school track coach and his buddies. They kept an eye on him until his parents showed up to claim him. Of course, neither Cory nor Irene Peterson believed in punishing their children for shifting, but they did make sure he wasn’t to leave the house without their permission.