Twice Shy

can't take that. Don't treat me like I'm a kid who can't handle reality.”

“And if I think you've dealt with enough evil in your life?” She smiled. “I came through it, didn't I? There isn't any avoiding it.”

“Don't ask me to pretend your life has been normal, Harper. I can't do it.” She sighed. “It's not like I'm bitching and moaning and whining about it, you know? If I can move on from it, why are you dwelling on it?” He pulled her to a stop at the picnic table, set her on the edge, and moved between her legs. She spread them to make a space for him, sliding her hands up his chest, and he felt his heart crack open a bit.

“Why?” he ruminated about it while he traced the freckles across her nose.

“You're mine. It pisses me off to know I couldn't keep you safe.”

“You didn't even know me,” she said softly, her voice soothing.

He shrugged. “Doesn't really matter, darlin'. It's how I feel.” He couldn't resist touching her anymore, and his hands slid up under that stupid turtleneck. Palms flat, fingers splayed as his hands slowly crept up. With each inch her eyes changed, growing hazy with lust. Her breath hitched when he finally reached her breasts and firmly palmed their weight.

“My brother…” she let the thought trail off.

“Sent him off with a pack member. He's getting the grand tour.” He nibbled her neck while pushing the top of her bra down to stroke her nipples. “Then dinner.

We won't see him for a while.”

He lifted her shirt and stared at the tantalizing flesh he'd left bared. Her skin pimpled in the cool air, her nipples growing into hard points that begged to be sucked. He leaned over and pulled one into his mouth, supporting her with one hand on her back.

He heard Mick approach, his scent heavy and aroused, his cock bulging in his jeans when Jonas looked down the length of the table to meet his gaze.

“We should take this inside,” Mick said.

“Mmmm.” He moaned before releasing her nipple with a pop. “Yes.” He swung her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, smiling at her startled giggle. And then she grabbed his ass. The little minx.

“I can walk.”

Her voice was husky, teasing, and very satisfied. He didn't let her down until he'd run up the stairs in the house and walked down the long hall to the bedroom.

There he dropped her on the bed. Laughing, she crawled to the edge and hopped down, giving him the sultriest look he'd ever seen. Oh shit, I’m in trouble.

He stood stock-still, afraid to move as she circled him, trailing one hand on his chest as she walked around his body. When she stopped in front of him, she tugged the hem of his shirt and glared until he cooperated, pulled it off, and tossed it aside.

Then she slid forward, her hands flat on his belly, and licked his nipple. Scraped her teeth over it. He lifted his hands to grab her, and she jumped back.

“No,” she said firmly. “It's my turn.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulled off her boots and socks, followed by the shirt. Her jeans. Until she was left only in bra and underwear. He remained rooted in place, gaze clashing with Mick's where he leaned lazily against the back wall. Mick, who didn't look at all surprised by the new brazenness of their mate.

Had they planned this? The demand for that answer was on the tip of his tongue, but suddenly she was in front of him again. Touching him. Exploring. The look on her face was so rapt he was afraid to breathe.

“I've always wondered,” she said in a breathy wisp of air, kissing her way down his body, “what a man's cock tastes like.”

She dropped to her knees. Then she unsnapped the button on his jeans and rested her fingers on his zipper. She looked up at him through thick eyelashes, gaze a little uncertain, but a lot turned on. Asking for permission. It was damned hard not to order her to unzip him, not to insist she take him in her mouth. It was the heat between them bringing her to this point. He couldn't believe she was really ready for it. His claws pierced his palms, and he forced them to retract.

“You don't have to, Harper,” he managed to croak out.

“But if I want to?” Her fingers gave a little tug. The zipper gave half an inch.

“If I belong to you, then don't you belong to me?” She tugged the zipper a bit, exposing the swollen head of his cock. She leaned forward and gave it a long lick.

“Yes,” he hissed.

Instead of taking him in her mouth, she looked up again. “Yes, you want in my mouth? Or yes, you belong to me too?”

She was killing him. She wanted to talk about the nature of mating now?

“Both,” he ground out between clenched teeth. And if it wasn't soon, he'd throttle her for teasing him later.

But she gave him that sultry smile again, carefully unzipped him the rest of the way, and with her hands starting on his hip bones, slowly pushed his jeans down. They caught at his knees, and as much as he wanted to kick them free, there was no fucking way he was moving.

Okay, Harper. Now what?

She had no idea what had come over her, but she liked it. She liked it a lot.

She especially liked looking up and seeing that bewildered, wild, and barely controlled look on Jonas's face. Everything going according to plan.

She'd realized on the walk to his house that the problem with Jonas was control. He had too much of it, and he used it to hide his emotions. Control saved him from having to tell Mick how much he loved him. Saved him from