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Searching for Home (Wolves of West Valley Book 2) by Sarah J. Stone (17)

Chapter Nineteen

 

She still wasn’t out of the hospital by the time dinner rolled around the next day.

Sierra kissed her mother goodbye around two in the evening, after spending the night and morning there, and went home for a much-needed shower. It felt vindicating to be able to handle her mother being the hospital and also handle cleaning and managing the home. She was capable of it; she knew it.

Cheese and pasta sauce freckled the kitchen counters as she prepared a quick lasagna. It was her mother’s favorite. She’d always bragged that it was the dish that she’d made for Sierra’s father that made him propose. Making it, hands deep in the noodles and meat and sauce, let her heart feel closer to her mother.

She wanted to be the perfect daughter.

Even if her mother had no idea who she was anymore.

A quick cleanup of the kitchen, a quick double check of herself, and Sierra was ready when Anthony knocked on her apartment’s door.

“Hey,” she greeted him, kissing his lips softly.

“You look amazing,” he replied, handing her a bottle of wine. It was a moderately priced red, and the idea of him picking it out amused her.

“Just wait until you taste my cooking,” she teased, leading him through the apartment to the kitchen.

“Is your mother in?” he asked.

Her heart dropped to her stomach, and she tried to hide the pain of it.

“She’s not,” she started slowly, trying to figure out how to word it without making herself look like a monster. “She’s in the hospital right now,” she admitted, ducking her head in acknowledgement of how bad it looked.

“Wait, what?”

“She had a seizure last night. I stayed with her in the hospital overnight,” Sierra said.

“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry,” he swept her into a firm hug, and it managed to surprise a few tears out of her eyes. “You should have told me. We don’t have to do this,” he explained.

“No, no, you’re a welcome distraction,” a sob ripped from her throat as she said this, her conscience dirtied by the words.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently, rocking back and forth slightly as he held her. It was enough to calm some of her tears, and it put her at enough ease to remember the lasagna that was ready to come out of the oven.

“Let me get this really quick,” she said, wiping her tears away before she donned the oven gloves and pulled out the pan. It was perfectly browned and smelled like a dream.

“You didn’t have to do all of this,” he said, his voice was kind, and she knew that he meant it.

“I wanted to,” Sierra answered. The oven groaned as she shut it and turned it off. “It lets me feel at least a little normal about everything that’s been going on,” she added. He was still a wolfman.

She was still falling for him.

She’d have to let him go.

Either way, it wasn’t going to work with him.

Anthony cut a couple slices of the lasagna out, almost obliterating his chunk in the process, and plated them on the table. Sierra grabbed a couple beers and forks, and sat with him.

If it were just this, it would be perfect. If neither of them had any outside problems, it would have beautiful and perfect. He’s kind, intelligent, gorgeous. She’d be lucky to keep him with her. They could run off into the sunset and never have to worry.

It wasn’t like that, though.

She had her mother to care for until she couldn’t. After that, she’d leave town, but she knew he wouldn’t go with her. He’d stay behind, become part of this dying town, and she’d be alone again.

Why not just nip it in the bud?

Why let him get attached to her?

Sierra sipped her beer slowly, losing her appetite for the food.

He didn’t ask what was bothering her. He didn’t seem to need to, and it was comfortable.

She hated it.

She hated finding everything about him perfect, even as she was trying to convince herself to break it off with him.

Even if he agreed to run off with her, then what?

He was a wolf at times, an actual wild animal, and she was supposed to just look past that?

Anthony was an incredible man, perfect for her in every way, but she knew nothing about the wolf.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know anything about it.

Dinner wound down, and she led him to the couch, turning on the evening news. Nothing much was going on – an attic fire from a teen trying to hide a smoking problem, the area needing more rain, the usual. She watched anyway, and Anthony wrapped his arm around her, letting her snuggle up against him.

She started finding herself just staring through the TV, lost in her own thoughts.

She was so lucky to know him and to get a chance to spend time with him.

Yeah, it was all luck and coincidence that she’d found out about his secret and they got to meet and become close, but she cherished that. Everything that led to them meeting was a blessing in her life, even if she’d have to tell him goodbye.

Sierra’s chest hurt at the thought, and she turned to look at him.

Anthony was watching her, and their eyes met in an immediate spark.

Without thinking of anything, she kissed him. It wasn’t a goodbye or a promise. It was just a kiss.

He kissed her back, pulling her toward him as though his thoughts were on the same plane. Sierra wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing away all of her pain, and deepened the kiss.

Their lips slid warmly against each other, sharing the feelings neither of them would say out loud.

She might love him.

Might feel that deeply.

It was something she’d have to really pick apart and sift through to find the truth.

For that moment, though, it didn’t matter.

She wanted to kiss this beautiful boy, this fantastic person she was lucky enough to get to know.

He ran his thumb against her jaw tenderly as they kissed, and it sent chills through her entire body. Leaning back against the arm of the chair a seat away from her, Sierra let him lean over her,

The kiss grew in passion, and before she noticed what she was doing, she was pulling up the sides of his shirt to take it off of him. Anthony let her and then returned to kissing her into the couch. Sierra felt too hot, like she was burning up and losing space. She rolled her body up against his, her dress allowing her to move more easily.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, breaking their kiss for a moment.

It pulled her back to Earth and lit her passion more.

Grinding against him again, she tried to pull another reaction from him. He moaned, rolling his hips back against hers. Sierra’s breath caught in her throat as he pushed up the skirt of her dress, above her thighs and over her hips. The cold, electric air sent shivers down her body as she realized she was only hidden from him by underwear now.

Fuck it.

Moving her hips, she ground against him again, letting him get a clear view at what she was doing. Anthony’s lips crashed against hers again, and one of his hands – thick and warm fingers – slid between her legs, rubbing against her barely-clothed anatomy. Her underwear was thin, already wet from the excitement of making out with him, and she could feel almost every touch through it.

Sierra was gasping into the kiss before she could stop herself, begging for more.

“I need you,” she pleaded, her breath hitching hungrily.

Anthony didn’t say anything. He just kissed her, quickly unzipped his pants, and pulled them down with his underwear.

He wasn’t going to make her wait.

Sierra’s face flushed hot red as she felt him pull aside her underwear for easy access. He wasn’t even going to remove them! When he first pressed into her, she thought she was going to come from just the idea of it, how dirty and rough he was being.

It was what she needed; she’d been needing to get out of her own head.

Anthony seemed eager to help her do that.

He held her panties pulled to the side with one hand, stretching them in a way she was sure would ruin them, and then gripped her hip with his other hand as he began to build up a hungry speed. Sierra let out soft gasps that gave way to heavy moans.

“Anthony,” she breathed out his name like a prayer and let him build his speed in her. She wanted anything he could give, and it felt like he was giving her his all.

“Sierra,” he said her name back, and his voice made her whole body vibrate. He picked up his speed, causing the entire couch to rock, and Sierra crowed out his name louder.

“Oh, my god, Anthony,” she managed out, amazed by each and every movement he was doing. She was seeing entire galaxies unfold before her eyes, feeling every pleasurable sensation she’d ever had multiplied on top of each other. By the time she realized she was coming, it was too late to tell him, too late to say anything.

He was still going, and she wanted all of it.

Sierra pulled out of her orgasm the second it was over and started bucking back against him, holding her own underwear to the side so he could have both hands on her hips. His pace was punishing and hard, and she could feel her body building to a second orgasm.

“My clit,” she begged.

Anthony didn’t wait. He kissed her as he slid his fingers over her clit, rubbing it with her own fluids. It felt good at first – hell, any sensation near her clit felt like a godsend – but she quickly was becoming frustrated.

“The underwear’s in the way,” she groaned out.

Immediately, she felt a tug and heard a tear, and realized he’d ripped off her underwear right from her. She would have been furious if it wasn’t so god damned hot. His fingers, now freed, were able to run circles and patterns over her clit that had her hips vibrating. She hadn’t felt this good in her entire life, and it didn’t matter that it was all thanks to the passion of the moment.

“I want you to come for me,” he said roughly, before sucking a deep hickey into her neck.

“Ah…oh, my god,” she gasped out, almost coming on command. She could feel him also coming moments later, letting them ride out the high of it together.

Sierra’s lungs burned for air, and she gulped it in with gasps. Her body spasmed in areas that she didn’t know it could, and she loathed that it was over.

Anthony kissed her again. This time gently, tenderly. He took his time with her lips, pulling out of her as he kissed her. Sierra felt pampered, cherished, and she found her feelings for him growing.

The loudest feeling was still guilt.