Alpha's Moon: A special forces shifter romance Renee Rose (universal ebook reader .txt) 📖

The rest of the basket is filled with snacks and spa samples. There’s also a note from Jenn thanking me for being a part of her and Geoff’s special day. Plus a personalized calendar with pictures of Jenn and me and Geoff. Unfortunately Scott is in a lot of them. Ugh.

“I’ve never been to a wedding,” Deke rumbles. “Is this typical?”

“Unfortunately, yes. The average wedding cost is like thirty thousand.” Jenn and Geoff are definitely spending way more.

“Jesus. You gonna do this?” He waves a hand at the basket.

“Um, do what? Use the spa samples?”

“Get married. Spend thirty thousand on a wedding.”

“Ummmmm.” My brain shorts out. “I want to get married. One day. I want kids. And my dad will probably insist on a big fancy wedding for networking purposes.”

“Fuck your dad,” Deke says with such beautiful nonchalance I want to record him, so I can play it over and over again with a beat track. “Don't care about him. What do you want?”

Suddenly, I get this image of me and Deke standing on a mountain top, holding hands. I’m in a cute but simple white summer dress, and Deke’s in his usual attire. My girlfriends and Deke’s biker buddies stand behind us, clapping. Rafe’s the officiant, and after Deke and I kiss, we all head to picnic tables for barbecue. Simple. Casual. Beautiful. I feel it with such a strong sense of longing. And suddenly there are tears in my eyes because it’s all I want.

Eek—too clingy. Deke said he doesn’t do relationships. He’s going to be a fling for me. Just a fling.

“I’d prefer something more casual,” I whisper. “Outside. A few friends, maybe my mom. An officiant and a picnic afterwards. That’s it.” I summon my courage and ask, “What about you? What’s your dream wedding?”

“Never getting married,” he says, and my dreams die with a little sad trombone sound. “Not for me, babe.”

“Okay, gotcha.” I start packing up the basket stuff. This is not a date, I remind myself. But he did kiss me. Maybe he can be my bodyguard with benefits. Just for the weekend.

I pause with the champagne in hand and consider opening it, but it’s a little early for drinking. Don’t want to go to the reception tipsy.

“Sadie,” Deke murmurs.

“Yes?” I answer but don’t look at him.

“The dream with the white picket fence and kids, it's not for me.”

I frown because he sounds sad again. I’m about to ask why not when the phone by the bed rings. I reach over and grab it.

“Sadie! You're here!” the bride shrieks in my ear. There’s squealing in the background. Jenn must be with her other bridesmaids, hitting the champagne early.

“Just got in.” I sit on the bed.

“Come down!” Jenn says. “We’re in room 404.”

“Um…” I glance at Deke. The last thing I want to do is leave Deke and go party with the wedding crowd. I feel a little guilty about that—the wedding is the main reason I’m here. “I’m actually a little tired. See you at the reception?”

“Okay, fine. If you and Scott can’t drag yourselves away…” She giggles. Someone in the background shouts something I don't quite hear.

“See you,” I quickly make my goodbyes and hang up. Crap. I need to tell Jenn I’m not with Scott anymore. I guess it was too much to hope Scott would tell Geoff, and it’d get back to Jenn.

“Fuuuuudge,” I groan and sag backwards onto the bed with my hands covering my face. Is it too much to ask for everything to be called off, so I can stay in the room and seduce Deke? Climb over his walls and get to know him?

Get to know his dick, my ovaries prompt. “Arrrrrrghhhh.”

“Everything okay?” Deke asks.

“This stuff just stresses me out. I can handle twenty-eight squirming kindergarteners, but formal social affairs remind me too much of suffering through my dad’s cocktail parties as a kid. I’d so much rather stay holed up in this room with you.”

Deke’s eyes glint green. “Yeah?” He stalks toward me with a predatory softness to his tread. Okay, good. We might be on the same page, here.

Yes! Yes! My ovaries are in cheerleading outfits, waving pom poms.

“I might know a way to relieve your stress.” His voice is low and suggestive, but I can tell by the way he watches my face for my reaction, he’s testing. He’s not sure.

“I might be in need of your services.” I climb up on the bed on my knees and lift the champagne bottle up like a suggestion.

“Babe.” Suddenly I’m flat on my back, my wrists pinned beside my head. Deke takes the champagne bottle from my hand and sets it on the bedside table.

Deke! Deke! Get the D! My ovaries cheer.

“Here’s how things are going to go,” he tells me. His face hovers just inches from mine. I can smell his minty breath. “I’m going to strip you naked, tie you to the bed and lick your pussy until you scream. And after you’ve come all over my tongue about a dozen times, we’re going to go down to that party and do whatever it is we’re supposed to do. Sounds like a plan?”

I come.

Seriously. That’s all it takes. Deke’s dark promise makes my pussy clench, a ripple of pleasure running straight to my core.

My teeth actually chatter as I stutter out, “I like the plan.”

His smile is feral. “Good girl.”

Deke yanks my top off over my head. My breath shudders in, shock and excitement mingling together to turn me into a shivering, quivering ball of nerves.

“Deke…” I actually have nothing more to add to the sentence. I think I’m just saying his name as an honorific. Because he just elevated himself to sex god, and I’m not even naked yet.

Deke uses his middle fingers to hook under each bra strap and tug them down my shoulders. I shimmy my arms through the holes, then hold my breasts when he tugs the cups down. My nipples tingle, my breasts