A Very Dangerous Dress

A Very Dangerous Dress
GINGER

I stared back at Lincoln, my jaw going tight when I saw how closely he was seated next to the Timberwolf female.

No…it’s her chair that is visibly unaligned and aggravatingly close to his.

“Ginger,” cooed Alpha Rafael and I tore my gaze from Lincoln’s to meet the Thunder Wolf Alpha’s eyes. He was smiling back at me, shaking his head in amazement as he perused my features in much the same way he did when we met out by the parking lot. “I should have realized who you were the very second I met you,” he stated apologetically, stepping away from the dining table to present himself more privately and away from his hosts. When he spoke next his voice was low, just a breath above a whisper. “To be honest…I think part of me did recognize you. But without confirmation, I was afraid I’d sound crazy if I shared what I believed. The very moment you told me that Giselle was the returned daughter, I suspected who you were.” He shook his head and I fought the burn of tears as I absorbed his words. “Good Goddess, you are the splitting image of your mother.”

I swiped at my eyes, not wanting to cry when I was supposed to be settling old scores, but unable to keep at least one tear from escaping.

“Those are words I never thought I’d hear,” I replied quietly, fanning myself once I’d gotten my emotions under control.

He grinned. “You realize that I’m your uncle, right?”

I nodded, my eyes threatening to tear up once more. “Yes…I-”

“Ginger,” Lincoln’s voice sounded, ripe with irritation. “I ordered the kitchen to hold the progression until all guests were present. All guests meaning…you.”

The bite in his voice wasn’t lost on me, but I ignored him, hoping to piss him off even more. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t his anger that I ignited, it was Zelda’s. “Well, what did you expect, Lincoln? This is Ginger we’re talking about. Disobedient, disrespectful, ungrateful Ginger. But by all means, invite her to dine and spoil my supper.”

My entire body stiffened and my eyes heated, blood rushing through my body so quickly that it forced a gasp from my lips and my throat bubbled with pain. Suddenly I was feeling pretty ridiculous, standing here in this dress like I was a welcomed participant.

“Hey,” Rafael murmured softly, his fingers finding my chin and lifting so that he could meet my eyes. His face was stern, his dark brown gaze pulsing with a swirl of scarlet light as he surveyed my reaction to Zelda’s words. He whispered quietly, “Do not let that hag weaken your spirit. Do not give her or anything she says your attention. Not now, not ever. Understand?” I nodded and he smiled warmly. “You are not alone anymore. Don’t forget it.”

His words lit something in me, warming me from the inside out and making me feel seen for once. “I won’t,” I replied softly. 

Rafael frowned, stepping closer and dipping his lips toward my ear. “We’ll talk more after dinner. In private. I have many…questions about your time here that will need answering. As well as another matter of importance that we’ll need to discuss before we head home.”

Home?

Wait a minute…what?

He just said 'we' but…who is this we? We as in he and his companion? Or we as in he, his companion, and…me?
His insinuation that we would be heading home threatened to become a ball of excitement in my chest, but before I could so much as utter a word in the affirmative, he turned around and took his seat between Giselle and another member of his pack.

“Ginger…” Lincoln’s tone was the chill before a winter storm and the look that he gave me promised to deliver me to the heart of it. 

He was still standing, as was Alpha Mario, but as he made to pull out the chair to his right, Alpha Mario sat down, finally looking away from me. 

With a firm lift of my chin, I stepped forward, my steps careful as I rounded the table on the opposite side from Zelda and headed straight for Lincoln with an intentionally pronounced swing of my hips. 

Lincoln’s eyes swept down my frame languidly and I was forced to hide my smile when his irises spiraled with an intense heat, their focus locking on the plunging vee of my dress and remaining there even after I sat down. I could feel his gaze like fingertips tracing my skin and when he released a dark chuckle, his hands sliding over my bare shoulders as he urged my chair forward and closer to the table, I knew my tardiness was forgiven.

Lincoln’s hands clenched around the back of my chair, the spike of his knuckles grazing the naked flesh of my back as he leaned in close to my ear and whispered, “That is a very dangerous dress, Strawberry. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

I sucked in a slow, deep breath, turning my head away from him as he drew his chair closer to mine and then retook his seat. My eyes clashed with another moss green gaze. One I hadn’t had the displeasure of studying for three long years.

Alpha Mario flashed me a momentary smile, his eyes lingering almost wistfully in my direction and capturing my undivided attention for a touch longer than I would have preferred. It was difficult to regard this man and hate him as much as I’d grown to. Despite the death of my bunny slippers and every disappointing, slipperless year that followed. Why? Because he looked too much like Lincoln. So much that it was almost cruel. Of course, Alpha Mario wasn’t nearly as strapped with muscle, nor was he quite as tall or bear een one swirl of ink upon his skin. He didn’t have dimples either, but the hair and the eyes…they were almost identical to Lincoln's and I was suddenly finding it hard to look away.

The feel of a hand clamping over the top of my left thigh is what finally did it, causing me to almost lurch in Lincoln’s direction as I overcame the startling aggression of his touch. Setting my sights on Lincoln's profile with the fire of my gaze, I willed him to heed my ire and remove his unwelcomed palm from my leg.

Naturally, Lincoln’s wasn't on my metaphysical level, so assaulting him with my mind powers did not do one bit of good. 

But even though he wasn’t looking at me - his attention on Rafael and his companion as the pair of them bathered on about how much of the Thunder Wolf territory they'd rebuilt - I knew he could feel me glaring at him, so when I slipped my hand under the table to claw at his fingers, he flashed a dimpled smile that I knew was meant for me. Tightening his grip, his long tattooed fingers stretched toward the apex of my thighs, where they descended to scandalously trace the outline of my swiftly moistening slit.

Goddessdamn him.

Why did I have to picture the tattoos?