Dire Wolf Mates - Chapter 84: Chapter 84

Dinner. We are having dinner. Sure, I can do this. I can sit through dinner with my fated mate and pretend to be a normal for the night.
If he said it to himself enough times, maybe the urge to drag her to the floor and taste every inch of her would go away. His Wolf snarled, seeming to roll his eyes at him.
Yeah. Sure. Moron.
Phoenix waged war with his carnal desires as he guided the sexy female to an outdoor table inside an enclosed section of sidewalk just a few streets down from their hotel. The place claimed authentic Mexican cuisine, boasting fresh seafood and local ingredients.
Even better, they didn’t have to waste time going back to change. Tracey had a pretty, soft-looking blouse she’d pulled out of her bag and threw on over her bathing suit. It went with the sarong she had wrapped around her waist. The whole ensemble was hell on his nerves, with little sheer strips revealing tantalizing glimpses of skin—like it was playing peekaboo with him.
Grrrr.
She looked gorgeous with her golden hair flowing in the breeze, and those creamy jade eyes of hers staring up at him all full of secrets and laughter. She was an enigma. A mysterious little beauty, and he could not wait to get to know her better. After their rocky start, and those tempting kisses that left him wanting more, having dinner should be a piece of cake.
Famous. Last. Words.
Phoenix’s Dire Wolf was determined to claim the female tonight, and it was all he could do to talk the beast down. But it was all coming together so quickly. The delicious scent of her arousal told him she was interested, but she was a normal. A somewhat shy and sheltered normal at that. She would not understand what being fated mates to each other meant.
No. He had to slow it down. It was difficult, though. Being with her was just so easy. She might be shy about her appeal, but she was downright bawdy with her humor and stories. Phoenix loved it.
He’d never been big on conversation, trusting computers more easily than people. But Tracey was different. She was exciting and alluring. He hadn’t broached the subject of relationships yet. He was enjoying himself too much for reality to set in.
“Can I take your order?” the server asked, and Tracey turned a brilliant smile at the man that had Phoenix wanting to claw the fucker’s eyes out.
Easy.
He hardly caught what she’d ordered, but knew from the amount of time it took, it was not nearly enough.
“For you, sir?”
“Can you double what she asked for? Great. Then add twenty chipotle wings, well done. An order of your famous “trash can” nachos with habanero mango salsa. Fresh guacamole. Oh, and six birria tacos, please.”
“Um, yes, sir. Anything to drink?” the server asked.
Phoenix really loved a good tequila when he was enjoying Mexican cuisine. He looked at Tracey, catching her staring at him wide-eyed.
“Wanna split a pitcher of mango margaritas with me?”
“I shouldn’t,” she replied. “But that sounds wonderful.”
“Excellent,” the server replied and hurried off to put their order in.
A few minutes later, he came back with a frosty pitcher of mango margs, a couple of waters, and some appetizers. Phoenix grinned, and served Tracey before himself, laughing when she appeared stunned at the amount of food he’d ordered.
“Did you invite like six other people to dinner with us?”
“No, are you fat shaming me?” he teased.
“Hardly,” Tracey replied, taking a guacamole filled tortilla chip right out of his hand and another from his dish.
“This is so good, but you need to try it this way,” she told him, smiling vibrantly, and damn, if this woman didn’t light up like a star when she was happy.
Phoenix loved watching her. She was full of surprises and hidden depth. She lifted a spoon, proceeding to do about the most amazing thing he had ever seen. While chewing the chip she’d stolen from him, she prepared another with just a smidge of guacamole and mango habanero salsa before leaning over and offering it to him.
“This is the perfect chip,” she whispered, eyes wide, as if she only realized the intimacy of what she was doing.
Hell if he was going to let her balk now. Phoenix took the proffered bite, nibbling her fingertips gently and moaning appreciatively. She was right. Perfect bite, indeed.
That little offering of hers sealed it. This sexy normal was definitely his mate. Phoenix could not remember the last time he’d shared food with anyone. But here he was, in public, taking nibbles from her hand like a puppy with its new master.
Grrrr.
The Wolf didn’t necessarily like the comparison, but that was too fucking bad. Even his beast recognized her as his. He could have crowed, he was so dang happy. For too long, Phoenix had thought he was broken. He figured he was too rough for a woman, a nomadic creature like him. Then Derrick made them put down roots, and he’d been at sea.
“Ooh, try this,” Tracey interrupted his thoughts, snagging the chip he’d almost gotten all the way to his mouth and adding some shredded jalapenos and lime juice with some Mexican table cream on top.
Phoenix opened like a good boy, loving the fact that she was feeding him and talking animatedly. Last time Weylin tried to snag a chip from his plate, Phoenix had wrestled the bastard to the ground, and they’d bled all over the kitchen floor at the Pack house.
His inner beast was territorial about food. But his Wolf didn’t seem to mind Tracey taking from his plate. Not at all.
“Everything tastes so good,” she moaned around a mouth full of shrimp ceviche.
Fucking hell.
The woman was downright noisy when she ate. Moaning in delight over the tasty goodies. Brock’s mate, Ariella, was notorious for her eating noises, but damn, Tracey could sure give the Lioness a run for her money.
“Here you go,” the server returned, interrupting Phoenix’s train of thought.
He swapped out empty plates, and food they were finished with for new, full dishes with their entrees. Phoenix had doubled her order and added more to it. As if the man knew how much Phoenix enjoyed sharing with her, the server had set it all up on platters, bringing two empty plates for them to share.
The next hour went by unrushed, and the more she relaxed, the happier his Wolf was. She was perfect. He frowned, worrying over her reaction to his secret. Would she run? Fuck, he didn’t know if she could survive it. The more time he spent in her company, the more his Wolf bonded to her, and Tracey was quickly becoming hella important to his very survival.
Mine.
“I know you’re this big, beefy guy, but I can’t believe how much you eat,” Tracey said, laughing as Phoenix put away his eighth taco.
“I’m dainty as fuck,” he joked, offering her the last bite of his birria taco.
“I can’t, I’m stuffed.”
“Interesting word, beautiful,” he growled, winking to ensure she caught the innuendo.
“OMG. You did not just say that to me,” she replied, and snorted behind her hand. “OMG. I snorted! Real attractive.”
“I sure think so. Here, let’s order dessert next,” he whispered, taking her hand in his as the server cleared the dishes.
A few minutes later, the man returned with a tower of dessert nachos doused in cinnamon sugar, drizzled with chocolate sauce and caramel, and topped with sliced berries and vanilla bean ice cream.
“You’re trying to kill me,” she moaned, eyes huge as she stared at the delicious confection.
“Never. You are one hundred percent safe with me, beautiful. Now, it’s my turn to feed you,” he murmured, taking a chip and adding a bit of this and that from the plate.
He growled softly as Tracey opened her mouth, allowing him to place the dessert in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed it down with a satisfying hum that made his dick hard in his shorts.
The fact she trusted him to feed her was deeply rewarding to both him and his Dire Wolf. The beast inside longed to chase the bite of dessert with a deep, soulful kiss, but he didn’t think he could stop there. It would have to wait.
Patience is a virtue. Grrrr.
He wasn’t known for his patience. But being there with her was almost enough to fulfill him. She was so open and positively bubbling with sweetness and hidden depths.
“Do you like art?” Tracey asked.
“I do,” Phoenix replied with a warm smile. “Though I admit folk art is my favorite. I spent a couple of months in my youth just biking through South America. I visited ancient ruins, rainforests, cities, and quaint little villages where the local men and women wove the most amazing rugs and tapestries, ponchos, blankets, you name it. I keep one I got in Ecuador in my bedroll on my bike.”
“Really? That is amazing,” she replied, and he heard the truth in her voice.
Her eyes lit up as she spoke, and he wanted to keep that light there. He wanted to make her happy and excited, always. Wondered how she would glow for him once he got his hands on her. Would she be noisy like when she liked something she ate? Would she give him one of those heart-stopping smiles he coveted from her?
Oh, the things he was going to do to and for his sweet mate. What did she like? How would she taste? The questions were rolling through him like a freight train, and he had to fight for control as his baser instincts pushed to the forefront. He should have known better than to think he could take things slowly. The physical pull to his mate was undeniable.
Shit.
She was saying something, and he was gonna fuck himself up if he missed even a single word of it. Tracey was that special to him already. He never wanted to be absent for a moment of the time he spent with her.
“I’d love to go there,” she said, and her eyes took on a wistful glow as she spoke. “I’ve always wanted to travel. I mean, I went away with my family, but it was always stuffy hotels and scheduled trips to museums and things like that with groups or nannies.”
“I see. Well, was it all bad?”
She paused and seemed to consider the question. Curiosity piqued, Phoenix realized he was truly interested in her reply. He wanted to know more about her. No, he didn’t like her sadness, but he wanted to know everything.
The good. The bad. All of it. All of her.
He would take it inside, make it part of him, and learn how to please and care for her based on her past. Already, he made plans inside his head to take her on a trip to see the folk art of countries like Columbia, Peru, and Ecuador. Hell, he’d take her anywhere she wanted.
I’d do anything for her. Anything at all.
Mine.
“Not all of it, no. It was nice sometimes. My parents aren’t bad. We’re just different. I mean, I did kinda run away from home to come here.”
“You waited a little while to run away. How come?”
“Stupid. Scared. A combination of both maybe?”
Her soft derisive snort almost missed his sensitive ears, but he caught it and frowned as she sipped from her glass of water. They’d finished the pitcher of margaritas and switched to water halfway through the meal.
Other dates he’d been on with women usually ended with him having to do the ordering and choosing, but he liked this so much better. Tracey knew her own mind and her likes and dislikes. She ate and drank what she wanted with no pressure or leaving it up to him or anyone else.
She thought she was a coward, but he knew different. Tracey was a motherfucking superstar, kicking ass and taking names.
“I don’t believe that for a second. Weren’t you the badass stripping down to her skin on private property and jumping into shark-infested waters?”
“Ha! Yeah, right. Thank you for that though,” she replied and giggled.
“Nothing that isn’t true, beautiful.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t want to put a damper on our evening so, let’s just say I have never really gotten along with my mother. Besides, I am thirty years old. I don’t need permission to go to the beach if I want to.”
“I don’t suppose you do,” he returned.
“This was nice,” she said as he paid the bill at his insistence.
“It’s only day one, Tracey. I plan on showing you a lot more nights like this,” he promised.
She had no idea what she was in for, and Phoenix could not wait to show her.