Honey,I Shrunk the Werewolf Page 11
Her father. After all these years of wondering, praying and then finally accepting he was gone—he was here. At first she’d been unable to believe the wolf she’d seen tonight was her dad. He was worse than a former shadow of himself; in such bad shape, in fact, she’d had to touch him. Smell him up close in order to be convinced. But once she was close enough, Ella knew the scent she’d picked up, the one that had eluded her since the night she’d gone looking for Crosby, had been her father’s.
“I can’t believe I didn’t know he was my father, Crosby. What kind of werewolf am I? How could I have missed it?”
Crosby’s response was tender. “It was pretty hard to define, honey. And I had a tip to go on. So I was looking for him specifically. If I hadn’t already had a suspicion he was in the mix, I might have missed his scent, too, with all the other smells involved. Don’t beat yourself up about it, okay?”
Warmth and gratitude raced through her veins. It would be all right. Somehow, she just knew it would. And it was because of Crosby. “I love you.” So hard. So much.
“After what just happened up in here, I should hope so.” He chuckled against the top of her head and gestured to the rumpled sheets.
Regret for the time they’d lost, remorse for her angry judgments and the cruel words she’d spewed, ate her from the inside out. “I wish I had known, Crosby. I’m sorry. I’ll say it every day of our lives together if you want me to—even if you did let the pack come between us and our marriage.”
He flipped them to their sides and spooned her, running his hand along her ribs. “I couldn’t tell you we thought that fuck had your father, honey.”
He was right. So right. After the pack found out Franklin had purchased the wolves illegally, they’d also discovered at least two of the alleged wolves were shifters, forced to stay in were-form in order to hide.
Her father was one of them. He’d been caught during a rescue effort twelve years ago and had been stuck ever since in order to stay hidden. When Crosby had gone to Marina’s house that night, he’d actually scented her father, and it was probably what pushed him into a shift.
“I would have kept my mouth shut.”
He growled in her ear, the purr making her shiver. “Hah. We both know that’s crap, honey. Know what the first thing you would’ve done was if you’d found out? Found a way to stick your nose in where it didn’t belong just like you did tonight. Jesus, Ella. You could have been killed. That fuck Franklin is crazy. We knew he’d stop at almost nothing to sell those wolves. We also had to find out where he had them hidden—we just couldn’t figure it out until I did by mistake. You in the middle of that, with the possibility your father was amongst those full-bloods, would have been disastrous.”
Her eyes filled with tears again but she wiped them away. “IknowIknowIknow. I’m sorry. How was I supposed to know he was harboring werewolves? It’s like claiming Lola has white tigers and Penn and Teller in her attic. I just had to figure out what that smell was.”
Tugging at her nipple, Crosby admonished even as his hands loved her. “You weren’t just tracking that smell. You were fishing for info on Marina Preston.”
Okay. Guilty. She squirmed up against him, feeling totally guilt-free about being naked with him for the first time since his accident. “But after all the months of subterfuge and late nights, and close-mouthed bullshit, not to mention the happy-go-lucky amnesiac you were, I needed to know what was going on. Each day got harder and harder when I knew if you finally remembered, we’d be right back to a very bad place. I just wanted to get it over with so I didn’t have to keep torturing myself.”
“Morton told me you agreed to be my nurse so the pack would grant you a divorce. Is that true?”
Ella took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t let what happened go. I thought maybe a fresh start would help me forget.”
His grip tightened on her when he slid his hand to her waist. His words were hushed and solemn. “The pressure of the whole mess was killing me. Add in the fact that Marina took to me like a duck to water, and I was doing almost nothing but holding her hand the entire way while we made this deal, and trying to figure out what Franklin was up to, stressed me out to the point where keeping my mouth shut was the only way to keep you out of danger. I think we both know if I kept explaining away all those late nights, and I added Marina to the mix, you would have come looking.”
Her sigh was dreamy and light when his fingers caressed the outside of her thigh. “I sort of did.”
This time, Crosby chuckled. “Like I could forget? It was me who came home and found every last thing I owned outside on the front lawn, wasn’t it?”
She kissed her way along his forearm, willing her lips to heal the wounds she’d inflicted. “I’m sorry. Swear I’ll buy you more clubs. You were trying to save my father. You found my father, Crosby. Nothing, absolutely nothing can ever make up for the stress I caused you because you were looking after me.”
Lifting her chin, he turned her head to face him. “I think there are some things that might come close.”
Ella flipped back over, nose-to-nose, kissed his lips soundly and smiled, filled with relief and love—more love than she could ever express. “Anything. Absolutely anything.”
Crosby wiggled his eyebrows. “Ménage?”
“Fuck you.”
He laughed, deep and hearty. “That’ll work too.”
Without another word, Ella slid along Crosby’s chest, trailing her tongue across his abdomen, finding the ridges of each of his hard abs along the way until she reached the head of his cock.
He drove his hands into her hair, cradling her head close to his skin and hissing when she finally drew his cock into her mouth, engulfing him deeply. She swirled her tongue over each vein, licked at the heat he emanated, smiled to herself when he wrapped a thigh around her back and arched into her with a forceful press upward. His hot moan filled her with pride, his hard hands drove her insane when he dragged her away from his cock and pulled her back to the top of the bed.
Rolling, she was back on her side again and pulled forcefully back against his length. He wound her hair in his hand and tugged it so her back bowed, forcing her ass to settle at his cock.
She lifted her thigh willingly, wrapping it around his calves, and when Crosby entered her, knowing she was his wife renewed her connection to him—sealed her fate.
She was Crosby’s, and he said as much as he drove into her passage, slick and swollen. “This,” he husked, slipping his hand between the lips of her wet pussy, “is mine. Never forget you’re mine, Ella. Never.”
“Never!” She gasped out the word, rocking against him, placing her hand over his, the hand that so expertly rubbed her clit.
They climaxed simultaneously, in the explosive chemistry they couldn’t help but create when they were together. Her orgasm was long and sweet, mingled with a completion she hadn’t felt in months, and as they rode it out, Ella clung to her mate.
His chest crashed against her back, hers hitched in jerky upward motions. Crosby gripped her shoulders and kept her tight against him. “Jesus.”
“Yeah. Him,” she said on a raspy chuckle, finally expressing a thought that had niggled at her since he’d saved her from Little. “So when did you get your memory back, mister?”
“The night before last.”
“And you didn’t tell me, why?”
“Because I couldn’t get away from you, Nurse Ratched. I had to have the proof in hand before I was going to tell you anything. I wanted to be sure Little was taken care of and your father was safe before I ever opened my mouth. Besides, our bed is really comfortable. My office couch? Not so much. No way in hell was I going back to sleeping on that piece of plywood before I at least got a word in edgewise in my defense.”
More remorse for time lost reared its ugly head, twisting her heart. “I missed you, Crosby Nash.”
He pulled out and rolled her over, his green eyes dark with emotion when they captured hers. H
e ran a tender hand down the side of her cheek. “I missed you, too, Mrs. Nash. Don’t ever do that again. It blew.”
“I hated every second,” she agreed, wrapping her arms around him, her hands caressing his broad back.
“Really? I had some seconds that weren’t so bad,” he teased against her lips, reaching over her head to grab his phone. His fingers flew over the keys in a text.
“Really? Maybe you might want to relive those seconds back at your office then?” she answered, sugary-sweet.
“It’s a pretty nice office.”
“Oh yeah? Do you think you could live there for the rest of your life?”
“Without you?”
“Well, why would I live at your office when I have satellite TV and a big sunken tub right here? Yeah, without me, Crosby Nash.”
“Oh. Then forget it, Ella Stills–Nash.”
“Good answer,” she cooed against his mouth, loving the freedom to indulge in his lips whenever she wanted from now on.
“The only answer.”
“Yeah,” she said on a deep sigh of satisfaction. “The only one.”
Her phone beeped and she groaned, arching her neck into the kisses he was trailing over her flesh.
“Maybe you should answer that, honey?”
She shook her head in an absolute no. “No. I just want to be in this bed with you.”
“But what if it’s important—maybe it’s about your dad.”
She was up in a shot, grabbing her phone and sliding it open. “No. Not my dad. It’s just a stupid tweet.”
“But maybe it’s an important tweet.”
Oh—he knew about Hairofthedog. Shit. “Look, let me explain Hairofthedog. I was just hoping to move forward because I was sure you were more interested in Barbie and her Dream House and Corvette. I was convinced the pack was making you stay with me, and I didn’t want that.”
Crosby smiled wide. “Look at the tweet, honey.”
“Are you going to yell? Because I’d deserve it.”
“Just look.”
She scrolled down to the message and paused, her breath caught in her throat.
Hairofthedog: @EllaBelle I love you, Ella.
And then it all came together in a rush of warmth settling deep in her heart. The tweets when she was at Marina’s and the confession that he was her Twitter-fair. She’d forgotten all about that after Franklin had clobbered her and the subsequent revelations. “You were Hairofthedog all this time? You?”
His grin was crooked. “Well, you wouldn’t talk to me, so I thought I’d talk to you. I found you on Twitter and started doing just that.”
“So that’s where you were for two weeks? With me?” she asked on a giggle. “Damn it, Crosby. I thought I’d been dumped again. Good thing you’ve got all that expert lovemaking on your side, or I’d clunk you on your head again. Not funny, mister.”
Hauling her over top of him, he nipped her jaw. “Know what’s funnier?”
“Can’t think of anything right now.”
“I was, in my amnesiac state, jealous of myself.”
Her head fell back and her guffaw was loud. “All that gushing I did about his tweets… Omigod. I can’t believe it was you.”
Crosby plucked the phone from her hand and chucked it to the end of the bed. “It will always be me, Ella. Always.”
Pulling him tightly to her, she bobbed her head before falling into his embrace. ”It’ll always be you, Crosby. Always,” she whispered back, putting all her heart and soul into her words.
And it was from that day on.
Crosby and Ella.
Always.
The End
About the Author
Dakota Cassidy lives for a good laugh in life and in her writing. In fact, she almost loves a good giggle as much as she loves hair products, and that’s saying something.
Her goals in life are simple, (like really simple): banish the color yellow forever; create world peace via hot rollers and Aqua Net; and finally, nab every tiara in the land by competing in the Miss USA, Miss Universe and Miss World pageants, then sweeping them in a stunning trifecta of much duct tape and Vaseline usage, all in just under one week. Oh, and write really fun books!
Dakota lives in Texas with her two sons, her mother, more cats and dogs than the local animal shelter, and she has a husband who puts the heroes in her books to shame.
Dakota welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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F.M.P. Society
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