CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Later that afternoon, I'm laughing with Regan in the kitchen, a glass bowl in my hand filled with chocolate chip cookie dough when I feel someone watching me.
I don't even have to turn to know it's Dayne.
My laughter dies away at the sight of him standing propped up in the doorway, arms folded over his chest, and an inscrutable look on his face.
It takes superhuman effort to stop myself from sighing at the way his biceps are bulging under his gray t-shirt.
He was gone when I woke around midday, feeling deliciously sore between my legs and craving the feel of him inside me again.
Not that I would ever tell him that.
But I can see the memory of what happened in the bathroom and our bed in his eyes, and I feel a flush blooming over my cheeks.
Just as he looks poised to speak, a phone starts ringing, interrupting whatever strange moment we were just having.
"I want three of those," he says, pointing his chin at the bowl in my hand, "and a glass of milk in my office the second they come out of the oven."
Since there's a sheet of cookies cooling on the stove, a batch Regan made to show me how it's done, I start to offer those.
"No. The ones you're making. In my office. As soon as they come out."
He turns and walks away, and I stare at the back of his head, my hands tightening around the bowl.
If I were to throw the heavy glass bowl hard enough, I doubt he'd have time to get out of the way of it in time before it knocked some manners into him.
Then it hits me how silent the few members of the pack sitting at the dining table, and who are fast becoming my friends, have gone.
I turn to find Jenna and Marshal have stopped whispering to each other and are staring at me, Marshal with a trace of a smile on his lips.
Regan just looks worried, as if she suspects what I'm thinking.
Forcing a smile on my face, I loosen my tight grip around the bowl and bend to grab a cookie sheet from the cupboard beneath the kitchen island I'm standing in front of.
It's more to hide the snarl on my face I don't want them to see than anything else, before smoothing it away as I rise and start scooping balls onto the cookie sheet.
"You okay, Talis?" Regan asks softly.
"Sure." I slam down another spoonful of dough. "Fine."
"It's just that-"
"Wearing an apron. The floral one. Regan can get it for you," Dayne calls out from his office.
I glance up in time to catch him poking his head out of his office door with a phone pressed against his ear before the door slams shut.
My wolf growls so loud in response to wearing a floral apron, panic has me jerking my head to the dining table to make sure I didn't accidentally growl out loud.
But instead, I find my packmates eying the counter in front of me warily, and I don't understand why until I lower my gaze to the cookie sheet.
To call them balls would be me being generous.
The mess I've made doesn't come even close to resembling the perfectly formed tray of dough balls Regan showed me earlier.
No, my cookie sheet is a disaster, and that's putting it mildly. Hell, half didn't even make it onto the tray.
I stare at the mess I've made, and then I turn to grab another cookie sheet.
Better to just start over, and it'll give me a little more time to calm down before I have to face Dayne in his office. Because if I go in right now, with the way I'm feeling, I'm just as likely to make him wear the milk and grind the cookies into his eyes.
Or probably kill him.
It depends how floral the apron is, and if it has frills because I'm having serious doubts about a floral apron not having at least some frills.
At the sound of Regan softly clearing her throat, I look up.
In her hands is the apron Dayne must have been talking about. The one he's demanded I wear to deliver him freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and milk.
I know then that the ten minutes it'll take the cookies to be ready is nowhere near long enough. Not even close.
Death. Death is the only thing good enough for Dayne Blackshaw.
Shoving his office door open with one hand while I carefully balance the plate of cookies and glass of milk in the other, I pause just inside the room.
In the center of the room, Dayne glances up at me from where he's sat at the large dark wood-stained desk, set in front of windows showing the leaf-strewn clearing at the back of the house.
Dayne, leaning back in a brown leather office chair, his cell phone pressed to his ear and his boots balanced on the edge of the desk, never takes his eyes off me as he motions me to close the door and come closer.
Swinging around, I'm just in time to see several heads disappear behind the kitchen door. My supposed friends not wanting to miss even a second of my humiliation.
I slam the door shut and stalk over to Dayne wearing the most ridiculous pink, orange, and cream frilly apron with a full skirt that I've ever seen in my life. I can't begin to understand where Dayne got a hold of it, or why he even has it in the first place.
All I know is that it looks like it belongs on some fifties sitcom where women did nothing but bake, pop out kids, and kiss their husbands goodbye before they left for work.
Dumping the plate and the glass on the desk, I purposely ignore the coaster because who gives a shit about the condition of his wood desk when he has me in this ridiculous apron?
Not me, that's who.
I turn to leave now that I've done what he wanted, only to stop when he thumps his feet off the table and points at his lap.
I stare at him, not getting what he wants since he doesn't speak a word, just continues to listen to the man on the phone.
From what my shifter ears pick up, nothing the man is saying is in any way interesting to me. Just an accountant, I guess, since he's waffling on about liquidizing some accounts.
When I continue to stand over him, Dayne reaches out and snags my wrist before tugging me hard until I fall into his lap.
Yelping in surprise, I'm struggling to figure out what the hell is going on when Dayne leans back a little in his seat, one hand spanning my waist, and opens his mouth.
It doesn't take me long to figure out what he wants.
Me to feed him, apparently.
My wolf snarls, and charges at the cage I've locked her in.
Hastily, I turn to the plate to hide my eyes from Dayne, making it look like I'm eager to do what he wants.
Which means I'm now committed to going through with this ridiculous housewife fantasy Dayne's cooked up for me.
Picking up a still-warm cookie, I let out a breath before I turn back around, mentally warning my wolf to stay quiet since an alpha wolf like Dayne will eat her for breakfast.
Still, it's no easy task to break off a piece of the cookie and place it gently into Dayne's mouth when everything inside me wants nothing more than to ram it down his throat.
Although he gazes down at me with bland indifference, not a hint of emotion crossing his face, something warns me he knows exactly what I want to do, and he finds it fucking hilarious.
Without warning, his mouth snaps shut, and I yank my hand back in time before his teeth close around my fingers, glaring at him until he raises an eyebrow at me.
Right. Submissive, my brain shrieks, glaring at alphas is not what we do. Ever.
Tearing my gaze away, I lower my eyes and as he chews, I take advantage of the opportunity to rein myself in by examining the office Dayne spends most of his time in. A room I haven't seen until now.
Dayne's office is as masculine as he is. The dark-stained desk is perfectly in keeping with the dark trims, window frame, and heavy bookcase.
In front of a fireplace is a large super soft white sheepskin rug I know is going to be the softest thing I've ever touched. The wolf in me craves nothing more than for me to strip and roll around on its plushness.
Beneath me, Dayne shifts, and turning to face him, I blink in surprise at the piece of cookie approaching my mouth.
I stare at it and then lift my gaze to his face. But when the cookie bumps against my bottom lip, I open my mouth and let him feed me.
He's not in a hurry to move his fingers away after he's slipped the cookie in my mouth as I was, even after I've finished chewing and swallowed.
His fingers brush against my bottom lip, and instinctively my tongue darts out, touching the tip of his finger. I find myself thinking about tasting more than his finger, and the idea of it has me feeling warm all over.
Not for the first time do I wonder how Dayne is able to trigger my arousal with so little effort.
"What about the land?" His sudden question startles me, and I peek up at his face, finding his gaze on my lips, but he's frowning. "There's more you haven't discovered. Get investigators on it if you must. I don't care how much it costs."
Right. The accountant.
I listen for a little while longer as the guy goes on about other property and investments in Canada before I tune out, my gaze drifting to the open laptop on the desk.
It's a photograph of a gorgeous log cabin set in the forests which looks vaguely familiar, and that's about as much as I have time to think before Dayne is leaning forward and snapping the lid of the laptop shut, cutting off my view.
Rude.
I turn to find his eyes on the plate on the desk and take the hint. So, snatching up another piece of cookie, I place it in his mouth.
Except this time, I don't move quick enough.
His mouth closes around a finger in a stinging bite, which makes me jump. But then he's drawing the digit into his mouth, forming a tight seal around my finger as he sucks.
Although my gasp is full of sharp surprise, it's not my only reaction to the warm pressure. I feel myself getting wet as my gaze remains locked on Dayne's mouth.
Not that long ago he nearly brought me to climax playing with my breasts.
When he nods at his desk, I tug my hand free before grabbing for the glass of milk with a shaking hand, relieved to have something to distract myself from thoughts of Dayne making me orgasm from sucking on my fingers.
On and on it goes, me feeding him, him feeding pieces of cookie to me, making sure to draw my finger into his mouth until I'm shifting restlessly in his lap. And going by the bulge I feel growing beneath me, I'm not the only one this is having an effect on.
Finally, with the plate and glass empty, I rise. Only Dayne's hand on my wrist stops me. But before I can ask him what he wants, he places my hand over the large bulge straining his pants.
My breath catches in my throat at the heat I feel coming off him, even through his jeans. And when his hand moves away, I dart a quick peek at his face and find him resting back in his seat, eyes on me.
Although he gives the impression of waiting patiently, there's a tension around his mouth and the corner of his eyes, which tells me more emotions are stirring beneath the surface of his calm than he wants to reveal.
Returning my gaze to his pants, gently I stroke my hand over him until the need to touch him without his jeans being in the way becomes an urge I can no longer ignore. I unbutton Dayne's pants and carefully draw the zip down.
I'm well and truly stunned at how quiet my wolf is since she was so furious before, and I'm still wearing this ridiculous apron which I'm convinced would only look good in an open fire. But she's quiet now, as if she's as curious about Dayne as I am.
He's so large, I struggle to believe he fits inside me. The bulbous tip glistens with a clear liquid, and I brush my finger over him before raising my hand to my mouth. I touch my tongue to it, desperate to know what he tastes like.
"That isn't acceptable."
My eyes fly to Dayne's face. And although he sounds annoyed, he has his gaze fixed on my mouth and his eyes are burning with a heat I can practically feel.
It's not hard for me to figure out where he wants me to put my mouth. But with the taste of him in my mouth; salty, musky, earthy, I'm feeling ravenous.
I drop to my knees, shifting closer to him when he widens his legs.
When he's made space for me, I lean forward to press my lips to the crown of his erection, lapping at him hungrily.
Beneath me he stills, and I feel the lightest brush of his fingers in my hair.
Since I've never done anything like this before, I'm going into it blind, but I try not to let it distract me as lowering my mouth over him, I take as much of his length in my mouth as I can.
There's a low hiss from above me, and not taking my mouth away, I raise my head and meet his gaze as I work my mouth up and down his shaft.
I love the way he's staring down at me. As if I've stunned him into silence, and he can't believe I'm doing this and doesn't want me to stop. And there's a slight tremor I feel in the grip he has on the back of my head. I love that too.
So, I don't stop.
I glide up and down, lapping at the tip of him when more of the salty liquid splashes on my tongue before I'm sliding back down as far as I can go, learning by the tightening of his hand in my hair what I'm doing right.
"I have to go," Dayne snaps, and just like that he's thumping the phone on the desk above me. At the same time, there's a knock on the office door.
"Dayne?" It's Luka.
"What?" Dayne's voice is harsher than usual, but since he always sounds like he's growling, it's not all that noticeable.
I suck harder, trying to make him lose control, and at his sudden gasping breath, I know I've come close and smile around him.
"He's here," Luka calls out.
I lose myself in trying to draw more of Dayne's release from him, and I lift a hand to the base of him, lightly squeezing and rolling him in my hand as I continue to suck with growing confidence.
Dayne plunges both hands in my hair and he holds me still, my mouth buried deep around his cock, almost but not quite choking.
"Come in."
What?
I try to pull back as someone shoves the door open, but I don't get far with Dayne's tight grip locking me to him.
Then I do something I should've done the second I heard the knock on the office door, something I should have been paying attention to if I hadn't been so concerned with bringing Dayne to orgasm with my mouth alone.
I use my nose.
Fisher. It's Luka and Fisher at the office door.
I glare up at Dayne, my mouth still full of him, and he meets my gaze steadily.
He did this on purpose. Made me aroused. Turned my attention to his cock, all so he could prove to Fisher and me that I'm his. And what better to do that than to have me sucking his dick right in front of Fisher?
Luckily for me, Dayne's desk is so big there's not a hope in hell of someone being able to spot me tucked under it from the doorway.
Unless Dayne were to tell them I was there, or they were a shifter.
One sniff and they'd not only know Dayne wasn't alone in his office, but also what they'd just walked into.
Briefly, I shut my eyes at the thought of Luka knowing I'm giving his alpha a blowjob.
"Dayne, you okay? Luka said you wanted to talk to me…" Fisher sounds confused to be at the house, and I guess that means his visit up here is a rare one.
"Just wanted to thank you and your dad for looking out for Talis."
I lift my head, but Dayne's hand in my hair stops me from going too far. It's just enough for me to breathe, but not enough to take my mouth away from him.
If I wasn't so terrified of what he'd do to me, I'd bite his fucking dick off.
"It's no big deal. She seemed a little lost. I wouldn't mind saying hi if she's around…" Fisher sounds like he's looking around, and I shut my eyes in shame.
God. If he knew where I was, or what I was doing…
"She's in the middle of something she can't walk away from right now. But not to worry, I'll be sure to let her know you stopped by." There's a smile in Dayne's voice he doesn't hide, even though it must leave Fisher confused about what he finds so funny.
I can't fucking believe this is happening. And with the way Dayne is holding me against him, he doesn't seem to be in a hurry to put an end to my shame.
Worst of all, he's still hard in my mouth.
I take a second to consider that.
He's still hard.
Which means he still wants this. So, to end this, I have to stop him from being hard. If I make him lose control… he'd have to send Fisher away, and then this humiliation can be over.
But I don't know the first thing about giving oral sex. Everything I've been doing has been through instinct alone.
Is instinct going to be enough to push Dayne over the edge?
Still, Dayne made me lose control in the bathroom. Surely, I can take what he did to my breasts, and do the same to him. It can't be all that different, can it?
Drawing in a deep breath, I hold it and swallow Dayne so deep, the end of his cock slides down my throat, and I feel him thrust against me. As if he can't quite help himself.
Lifting my head, I let him feel the very edge of my teeth before I plunge my head back down. Deeper this time, humming lightly when he's back in my throat.
He makes a strangled sound.
"You okay, man?" It's Fisher.
"Good," Dayne chokes out, "just need-"
I slide one hand to the base of his shaft, using both hand and mouth on him as I suck harder. The grip in my hair turns painful.
At the sound of his gasp and the feel of him throbbing, I smile around him.
"I'll see you out," Luka says, reminding me it isn't just Fisher there.
Even before the office door slams shut, Dayne's hands are moving my head up and down his cock with increasing desperation as he grunts.
He manages three hard, sharp thrusts into my mouth, and then his harsh groan fills the room and his hands are tight in my hair, back bowing as he jerks, and my mouth is suddenly full of the musky, rich taste of him.
I swallow everything he has to give me.
When the pressure in my hair eases, I rise and find him fighting for breath in his office chair.
Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I snatch up the plate and cup and storm out, dodging Dayne's attempt to grab me.
"Talis-"
"Too slow, alpha," I say, knowing he's going to need at least a minute, likely more to recover, going by the intensity of his shuddering release.
He won't be coming after me. Not yet, at least.
I slip out of the office.
And am confronted by the rest of the pack staring at me from the kitchen door.
"Did he like the milk and cookies?" Regan asks, looking and sounding far too innocent for me to believe she doesn't know what's just happened in the office.
"Yeah. I think he's gone down for a nap now."
Ignoring the splutter of choked laughter as I pass them, I try to look relaxed as if I'm not aware Dayne could appear behind me at any moment.
After dumping the plate and cup in the sink, I tear the apron off me, leaving me in my usual outfit of jeans and t-shirt, before I slip out of the back sliding doors and into the forests.
I need to breathe. And I need time to come down from this aroused state Dayne has left me in, and the forest is the perfect place to do both.