He cocked his head at her. “Need a ride?” he shouted, his mirth at her situation evident even over the engine noise.
She took a second to admire the size of him; tall, wide, and sexy in his riding gear. But, she was already spoken for. Kind of. Mitchell would eventually come to his senses and realize they were meant for each other. Hopefully before all the eggs in her ovaries expired.
“Thanks, but I don’t want to leave the present behind. I’m going to a baby shower.”
“What a coincidence, so am I. The present’s not a problem. I’ve got great balance. I’ll hold it if you hold onto me.”
Another guest for Naomi’s party, which meant he was a shifter, just like her. The smell of exhaust made her unable to sniff what species he belonged to. Not that it mattered-she already had a man, sort of, once he stopped acting like a stubborn ass.
Unsure of how her rescuer would manage to drive and hold onto the gift at the same time, she hesitated, however, not spotting any other signs of life, she didn’t really have a choice. It seemed like his offer was the only way she’d get to the party fashionably late.
“Fine, I accept. But if you drop it, I’ll have to hurt you,” she warned.
“Promise?” This time, she definitely couldn’t mistake the humor.
“Pig.” She didn’t say it with heat, though, and he laughed, a rumbly sound that tickled over her and made her inner wolf wake with a start to peer with interest at the stranger.
Strolling over to his bike while holding the gift, she let him take the package from her then eyed the small wedge of seat behind him.
“Are you sure I’ll fit?” She owned panties with more crotch room than that thing.
“Just hold on tight, baby, and I’ll do the rest.”
His words sent a blush to her cheeks, especially since he said them in a sultry tone that rendered his meaning quite clear. She just wished she could see his face to see if he joked or not. At five-foot-two and packing some curves, she wasn’t the type to have guys hit on her out of the blue, not until they’d had a few beers anyways.
Actually, on second thought, better I don’t see his face. He’s probably butt ugly, and besides, I’m almost taken.
Bracing one hand on his shoulder, she managed to swing one leg over to plop herself on the sliver of seat, wedging it between her thighs. Its pressing hardness along with the vibrating thrum of the engine between her legs made for some interesting sensations.
The driver’s free hand grasped hers and pulled it around his torso, tugging her into his body. “Hold me tight, baby, and I’ll take us where we need to go.”
Screw the shower, going to heaven came to mind as her body reacted to his proximity. Wrapping her arms around him, she fought an urge to let her hands stroke up and down his chest. Even clad in leather, she could tell he owned a hard, muscled physique. Words, for once, failed her, which would have cracked her BFF up. But what shocked Francine most was her wolf’s reaction. Her inner canine wanted to sniff the stranger up and down and follow it up with a lick. Usually that type of reaction only happened when she thought of Mitchell.
“Ready?” he prompted.
Nodding, she held on for dear life as he gunned the bike and they shot off, his one arm held out holding the gift while the other did the rest. It occurred to Francine to wonder how he intended to drive one handed, but he seemed to be managing fine, so she decided to keep her mouth shut lest she distract him. Besides, she preferred to concentrate on how she felt plastered against him. A small part of her winced that she cheated of a sort on Mitchell, the man who wouldn’t claim her even though she knew he was her fated mate. But another part of her, the same part that made her give Tommy Keller her virginity at her grade twelve prom out of spite, wanted her to squeeze closer and drop her hands to see if his thighs felt as muscled as they looked.
I’m such a skank, she thought. A horny one, who after the Tommy incident, vowed to stay away from men until Mitchell came to his senses, a vow she broke within a month when she heard about his newest girlfriend. Jealous-and pissed he kept fighting fate-she went to a bar to get drunk and bang some guy whose name she usually couldn’t recall the next day.
However her days of sleeping around to quell her irritation and heartache were things of the past now. She’d turned over a new leaf. As of nine months ago, she no longer did that. No sirree, once she saw Naomi, the biggest bitch she knew-God, she loved that girl-find her mates-the skank lucked out and got two-she just knew her time was about to come. She didn’t want the scent of another man clinging to her when it did. Although, she wouldn’t have minded seeing a jealous Mitchell. Actually, just seeing Mitchell, who avoided her like she suffered from the plague since they were kids, would have proven an improvement. Currently, the only thing she ever saw of Mitchell was his ass as it went flying out the door to escape her. The chicken.
It hadn’t always been that way. He tolerated her well enough as his kid sister’s best friend, but that all changed when they got to their teens. She’d kept waiting for him to make his move. He didn’t, so she had, sometimes with a little too much enthusiasm and force. He rebuffed her, over and over. She’d grown to hate his oft repeated, “But I think of you as a sister.” Jerk, like his sister ever tried to give him tongue.
So, despite how wet Mr. Hot-In-Leather made her, she wouldn’t do anything about it, because she just knew if Mitchell would let himself stay in a room with her for longer than thirty seconds, he’d finally realize she’d grown up. And then he’d claim her so they could live happily ever after, before she went postal and killed his furry ass.
Mitchell kept peering out the bay window. He thought he’d managed to do so unobtrusively until the cuff that caught him upside of the head.
Turning, he glared at his very pregnant baby sister who smirked at him. “Aww, aren’t you so cute acting all eager-beaver like. Don’t worry, big brother. Francine will be here soon.”
“What makes you think I’m watching for her?” It annoyed him that his sister knew whom he searched for, but for the wrong reason. Yes, he kept an eye out for Francine, but only because he needed a head-start to escape.
“Oh, please. You do this every time you know she’s coming over. Hell, the last time, you almost took Mom out in your hurry to dive out the back door. Talk about pathetic. Just give in already. The whole family knows you two are meant for each other. So stop acting like such a pussy. Why not act like the dog you are and claim her?”
“That’s rich coming from, Mrs. I-wanna-marry-a-human,” he mocked in a high-pitched voice. That earned him a scowl and a whack in the arm.
“And look what happened to me. Bitch slapped with two men instead of one.”
“Wait, do you think if I keep holding out, then fate will give me two or three women?” He leered, and then ducked as she swung again. Chuckling, he quite enjoyed his sister’s annoyed red face.
All too soon, her face smoothed into a calm mask, one he knew better than to trust. “From what I hear, Francine is worth two women in bed. Betcha she’d have you begging for mercy and walking funny if you gave her a chance.”
Mitchell spoke through gritted teeth. “Would you stop saying shit like that? Francine is like a sister to me. The idea of doing anything with her is just gross.”
“Blah, blah, blah. You know, I believed that whole sister line you fed us ten years ago when you guys were still kids, but seriously, Mitchell. You haven’t seen or talked to her in at least the last five or six years. She’s changed, so how can you still claim that?”