Kelly Lucille - Keeping Her

“Don’t say it unless you mean it.” His voice came out a tight growl in his throat.

“I mean it.” He swooped, taking her lips and stopping whatever else she might have said. She melted into him.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

He nuzzled into her neck and licked the bite he’d put there. His voice was a deep rumble. “Then enough of this for the foreseeable future horse shit. This is forever.” He grabbed his cock and led it to her wet pussy.

“That is so romantic Demon.” She said and lost her voice when he pushed his way into her aching channel.

He grunted what could have been an affirmative answer. Neither of them wanted to talk for a while.

“What do you mean you don’t want me to go?” When Clytie and Demon had finally left the bed she felt a connection with him that she had never had with any other. Now she stood in front of three strangers telling her everything she thought she knew was wrong.

“Damn it baby. This is for your own good.” Demons gravely voice was just this side of desperate.

“You don’t want me with you at your mother’s funeral and it’s for my own good?” Clytie crossed her arms and cocked her hip. “Why?”

“Why?”

“Why is it for my own good?”

“It just is.” He said his voice turning belligerent. “I don’t want you there. Do I have to have a reason?”

Mac shook his head and Ben winced. Looking at the way her eyes flared and her lips thinned Demon knew he would be lucky to escape with his balls. When she did speak, it was in a soft cold tone that sent shivers up the spine. So angry she dripped icicles from every word.

“You say it’s dangerous to go, but you won’t tell me why. Fine. It’s your mother’s funeral; you don’t want me with you. Fine. Hurtful but fine. Talk to me like I’m a dog begging for a treat. Not. Fine.” The last words were expressed with a definite bite. Without another word, she turned and left the room.

“God Damn it!” The panic Demon suffered watching Clytie’s back as she walked away was nearly as gut wrenching as the news about his mother.

Both Mac and Ben looked at him like he was the stupidest man alive and he suspected they were right. “Fuck!”

He caught up to Clytie in their bedroom. He took one look at her face and pulled her struggling into his chest. “I’m sorry baby. The thought of you at the mercy of my family makes me crazy.”

That stopped her struggles. Instead, she looked up at him with wet and confused green eyes. “What are you afraid of?” Whatever she saw in his eyes must have reassured her because she hugged him, her soft cheek tucked up against his fast beating heart. “Talk to me.”

“They’ll try to hurt you.”

“Your family?”

“Yes.”

She thought about that for a long time just staying soft in his arms. “Are you saying they will physically attack me?”

“I don’t know. But I won’t take the chance.”

She blew out a long breath. “All right. I can accept that. But Demon the next time just tell me the truth. The ‘me Tarzan, you Jane’ approach only works in the movies, and occasionally in bed. I won’t stay were I’m treated like anything less than a full partner.”

“Then you’ll be here when I get back?” His voice, edging on timid, sounded absurd coming from Demon.

“I’ll be here. Just make sure you come home in one piece.”

“I’ll be back in time for your show tomorrow.”

“Good. Because otherwise I might forget all the really good reasons I put up with you and find somebody else.” His growl was long and ended with a snap of teeth, which made her laugh. The laughter turned into a squeak when she found herself hauled over his shoulders.

“Tarzan huh? I think I can do better than that.”

“Demon.” She shrieked between laughs. “Put me down.” Instead, his hand found the curve of her delicious ass and squeezed making her body jackknife up with a gasp. She was bouncing on the bed before the door even closed.

“Do you suppose he would want us to remind him about the flight?” Ben asked from the hall where they had been watching the drama.

“Would you?” Mac asked dryly.

“I’ll call and let the others know we’re running late.”

“Deliverance country. Lovely.” Ben looked around the graveyard deep in the Ozarks and felt the cat in him reacting to the unmistakable smell of hillbilly dog. “Why do I get the feeling we should have brought more guns.”

“Because we are currently surrounded by a good fifty shape shifting wolves who would like to eat us?”

“That might be it.”

Mac looked at Demon. “I can see why you don’t visit.”

Demon grunted, he had spoken little on the trip over. There were many things he would rather be doing, namely Clytie. Instead, he was here in his own personal hell. He didn’t want Clytie anywhere near his old pack, but he didn’t like her in another state. She needed to be where he could protect her.

“Relax.” Mac kept his eyes on the wolf shifters trying to stare them down from across the mound of fresh dirt. Only the Taboo of fighting at a graveside kept them on their side of the grave. “Eli and Logan are watching your little bird. No one can get to her. You’d be better off concentrating on your hick relatives. They don’t appear happy to see you.”

“On the other hand,” Ben said, smiling at the angry crowd salivating for blood across from them. “They look real happy to see us.” At his smirk, several wolves growled and showed an impressive lack of dental work and sharp teeth.

“Ben.” Mac warned in a bored voice aware the wolves across from them heard every word. “Don’t tease the animals.”

Before Ben could respond with something even more inflammatory the crowd of wolf shifters parted and Demon caught his first sight of the Alpha after fifteen years. Gregory Bidel, Alpha of the Bone Crusher Clan. He felt his hackles rise and his wolf instinct to fight nearly overwhelmed his control.

“You have no business here outcast. You or your pack of degenerates.”

“Even Outcasts are welcome at family funerals. It’s shifter law.”

The man who he’d once called father took a threatening step forward. “You have no family here.”

A little grayer, the Alpha hadn’t changes in 20 years, except to get harder and meaner in appearance. Demon realized he looked down on him now, by about a foot. For some reason he had pictured the Alpha a bigger man. Now Demon was both taller and broader across the shoulders, though the Alpha was thicker everywhere else. Looking from the rage filled grey eyes of the Alpha to the rest of the pack, about fifty in all with the females hidden towards the back with the few cubs, he was ambivalent. Ben was right; they looked like a pack of illiterate hillbillies. For years, he had wondered what it would be like to be this mans natural son, a welcome member of the pack. Now he could only be grateful to have escaped such a life.

“Where’s Clancy?” He should have been at his father’s side, but the Alpha stood alone, his pack keeping a respectful distance.

“That’s our business and none of yours.” One of the men closest to the Alpha spoke up, smirking a challenge across the sacred ground until the Alpha glared at him for speaking out of turn. He dropped his head immediately and bared his neck.

Glancing around Demon felt his wolfs unease, quite a few faces seemed to be missing, Clancy not least of all. He should have been here. Even if she was not his biological mother, he was a Beta and an enforcer. When the Alphas mate dies, everyone goes to the funeral. Demon opened that door inside himself and stretched out with his wolf senses. No one here was powerful enough to be any of the upper echelon. Besides the Alpha, every powerful wolf of the Bone crusher clan was missing from the funeral.