“Alec’s told me some of it.” It was hard to think about what that had been, though. The graceful curve of her neck bore a tiny bruise. A mark.
His mark.
His hands shook as he curled them around the counter and jerked his gaze away from her. His voice was strained when he spoke again. “I know the basics.”
“Then the first thing you should know is that I’m not in danger. It sounds ridiculous, since we’re having to hide my twin sister away, but it’s true. I’m the Alpha’s heir. No one is going to touch me.”
Alec had told him same thing, but it didn’t ease the tense worry. “I can hear that intellectually, but I’m not sure how to convince my instincts.”
“I don’t know if you can.” Nick leaned against the counter. “You missed breakfast?”
“Yeah. I could pick something up for us, if you want. Or cook, if you don’t mind me messing around in your kitchen.”
“God, no. Mess around all you want.” She pulled open the refrigerator and gestured inside. “I’d help, but there’s not a lot of stuff I can make without setting off the smoke detectors.”
Cooking was something he could do, though it seemed somewhat less than heroic. Unless people are hungry. He crossed the kitchen to peek in the fridge. “My mother was a chef, you know. I’m a pretty decent cook.”
“I didn’t know that.” Nick eyed him over the fridge door. “Is it rude if I make you fix me breakfast while I take a shower and pack some things for Michelle? You can absolutely tell me if it is.”
“No, it’s polite to give me something useful to do. I really need to help out, Nick.”
She grinned at him. “Then the waffle maker is on the counter. I’ll be upstairs. Yell if you need anything.”
Nick proved to have a well-stocked kitchen for someone who claimed to be unable to cook. Derek used the familiar ritual of mixing batter as a way to quiet his mind, fighting against the part of him that wanted to follow the sound of the water. Nick was upstairs, in the shower. Wet and naked…
The handle of the wooden spoon in his hand creaked dangerously, and he released it with a muffled curse. Three hours of fitful sleep and a screaming match with his cousin, and he still couldn’t keep his mind out of his pants. Nick’s scent surrounded him, embarrassingly enticing and more than a little arousing. Not even the smell of cooking waffles could erase the subtle hints of jasmine and musk he associated with Nick.
It didn’t take her long to come back downstairs. She wore a flowing black and white patterned skirt and a black tank top, and her hair hung in wet tendrils around her shoulders. “I didn’t want you to have to wait. We can pack after breakfast.”
A drop of water fell from her hair and rolled down her throat, tracing over the mark of his teeth. Blood pounded in his ears and he told himself to look away.
Begged himself to look away.
She reached past him and took two mugs from a shelf. They hit the counter with a clatter, and he noticed for the first time the slight trembling of her hands. “The waffles look—I mean, everything—” Her words cut off with a frustrated moan, and she swayed toward him. “You’re killing me.”
“I’m killing us both.” He barely recognized his own voice. The words sounded low, harsh. Barely human. “Fuck, Nick, you have too much to worry about to deal with me—”
“Shh. I think…” She pressed her face to his chest and slid her hands around his waist. “If we keep fighting it, we’ll both be useless, Derek.” She tugged his shirt free and pressed a shaking hand to his bare skin.
He had the presence of mind to yank the cord to the waffle iron out of the wall socket before he grabbed her around the waist. She was so tiny, and once he’d used one hand to knock the bowl—and the rest of the batter—into the sink, there was plenty of counter space. His mouth found hers as he dropped her onto the tile, so far beyond desperate he couldn’t help but groan.
She kissed him with almost bruising force, breaking away only to pull his shirt over his head. “I need you so much,” she whispered against his mouth. “I can’t think about anything but you touching me.”
“Christ, Nick.” He got his hands under her shirt and coaxed it up, impossibly aroused by the smooth skin of her back under his fingers.
She dragged the black cotton over her head with an impatient noise, baring her body to the waist. “Tell me.”
The things he wanted to do didn’t feel very human. His hands shook as he slid them up to cup her breasts. “You need to tell me how to slow down, because I want to drag you to the floor and make a Discovery Channel feature.”
Heat flared in her eyes, and she framed his face with her hands. “I don’t know how. That’s what I meant last night. I’ve never—” She moaned and tilted her head back, offering him the pale curve of her throat. “Not like this, Derek. Not like you.”
He got one hand under her skirt as he licked the spot over her pulse. His knuckles brushed damp fabric and the last shred of sanity fled when he realized she was every bit as aroused as he was.
He got them to the floor, but he couldn’t remember how. He shoved her skirt up above her hips and dragged at the expensive little panties, succeeding only in getting them to her knees before he had to touch her.
She bucked up with a low cry, her bare feet sliding on the polished tile. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he stroked his fingers through her wet folds, and she rocked into his touch and watched him with glazed eyes. “More. I want you.”
He wanted to make her come, to do something smooth or sexy or exhibiting the tiniest bit of self-control. Instead he urged her over and tore at her underwear until it ripped away in his hand. The bare line of her spine beckoned, and he licked the back of her shoulder as he moved above her. “Tell me I can.”
“Yes.” She sighed the word as she reached up and tangled her fingers in his hair. “Anything you want.”
It was too fast, and he was supposed to care. There were probably other things he should be thinking about too, aside from how quickly he could get her onto her knees and how good it would feel to be inside her.
And then he was inside her, and he’d been wrong because it was so much better than anything he could have imagined. Nick cried out and threw her head back against his shoulder, already shuddering around his cock. She murmured to him, hoarse, whispered nonsense, but still he knew she meant for him to move, to drive her on. To make her scream.
He got a hand around her and slid it down until he encountered slick heat, the sensation enough to make him moan. His thrusts came too fast, too hard, but he couldn’t stop. Not when she writhed beneath him, whimpering and moving back to meet each advance. He rubbed his fingers over her clit and found he remembered one word. “Nick. Nick.”
Her entire body jerked and shook. Her head crashed into his chin, but he barely felt it. Instead, he focused on her voice, trembling and needy and finally screaming his name as she came.
Derek couldn’t stop himself from biting the back of her shoulder as the clenching heat of her body dragged him over the edge. He came with a roar, drowning out the sound of her voice.
She shivered under him, her back tight against his chest, and finally exhaled with a low curse. “Not crappy. Amazing.”
He wasn’t entirely sure he could speak, but he tried anyway. “Crazy out of control and still sort of awesome.”
Nick groaned quietly. “Come on, Derek. I feel really good. Don’t hurt my feelings with ‘sort of’.”
“Sort of,” he repeated as he shifted to his side, heedless of the cool tile floor. He rolled onto his back and pulled Nick on top of him. “You only came once.”