Slow Burn (12 page)

Derrick licked his lips at the sight. “You do look
ravishing.”

Music continued to pound loudly. Funny, for a death metal
singer, the base and drumbeats in this club irritated her. She sighed. “What
are we supposed to do here? I don’t dance. Not like this, anyway.”

“Blend in.” He bent down low, ran his tongue along her jaw.
A shudder raced through her.

She smelled the feral scent of Derrick’s beast hovering
near, stalking the club scene. Good thing she wasn’t the only one who hated
being here.

Derrick didn’t look out of place, but he’d never be found
here either.

The tempo of the music switched up and thumping bass grooves
kicked in. Lyrics that made no sense assaulted Sonja’s ears.

A waiter came by with two glasses of champagne.

She snagged one.

The waiter looked a little nonplussed until she grinned at
him with that I’ll-kill-you look.

He scurried back to the bar.

She took a sip of the cool champagne. Exquisite, honey-like
flavors bubbled over her tongue.

Then a hand captured hers.

She looked over the rim of the glass to see Derrick’s wicked
grin. “Come on, let’s go find a table and order a bottle or two of this stuff.”

She nodded and downed the glass. Even with her inability to
get a complete grasp of her power, she still could handle quite a bit of
alcohol. It was a blessing some nights.

Derrick led her to a table and they took a seat. Strobe
lights flashed, a disco ball spun and reflected glittery images from the lights
shining around it. Low-level halogen lights lined the walls of the club while
red tablecloths tastefully draped over tables too small for elbowroom or even a
few drinks.

Another waiter walked by. Derrick raised his arm to snag the
man dressed in black. “Bottle of champagne. We’ll take the finest.”

He nodded and headed toward the bar.

Derrick looked back at Sonja and his scalding gaze returned
and started to burn into her skin. She couldn’t forget their earlier sessions,
both of them were wonderful, fulfilling. But he wore his heart on his sleeve
and it disoriented her.

Not because he’d thrown his love out for her, but because
someone honestly gave a shit about her. That scared her the most. Her life had
been built around magic and contained a great deal of death. She chose her
career because it allowed her to stay in the realm of death and make an impact.

But if she had a partner, what then?

She shuddered to think of the threats on his life.

Powerful, Derrick’s puma had resolve. There weren’t that
many pumas in Northern California. And she’d be surprised to find any here in
Miami.

She scanned the room, looking for other shifters. Several
hovered over a table in the far corner of the club. They had what looked like a
great view of the place.

Beady eyes, shifty auras, and suits customized to hide
handguns. Great.

Derrick took her hand and stroked her palm with his thumb.
The man in the corner looked familiar.

Sparks ignited between him and Sonja, distracting her.

“You smell anything unusual?”

He leaned into her, took a whiff, and shrugged. “Nothing but
your arousal.”

She smirked. “Seriously?”

He shook his head. “There’s too much perfume in the air.”

She motioned with her eyes toward the shifters. “What about
them?”

Derrick’s gaze trailed down the line of her body. Heat
flooded her cheeks and moisture pooled between her thighs. She hated wearing
the thin thong to cover her as it served once again to remind her of her
vulnerability. The thin fabric became soaked pretty quickly.

Derrick moved into her while keeping an eye on the shifters
she’d pointed out. “I smell gunpowder. If I had to guess, they’re packing, but
that’s typical around here.”

“Yeah.” She snorted. “Everyone in Miami is either a
gangbanger or from a drug cartel, right?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. First time here. I say we make
some friends.”

The bottle of champagne arrived then, as did two glasses, both
full. “On the house.” The waiter bowed and left the bottle on ice.

“That seems odd.” Derrick raised his glass, smelled it.

Just as Sonja brought the glass to her lips, Derrick shook
his head no. “Don’t.”

He grabbed her arm and slammed the glass to the table.

It shattered.

She scowled and glared at him. “What the fuck, man?”

He eyed the bastard in the corner, then met Sonja’s angry
glare. “It’s been drugged.”

Her eyes widened. His monotone voice would have made anyone
else afraid. She on the other hand, took shit from other males and gave it
right back in spades. “The entire bottle?”

He picked it up and took a sniff. “Nope. It seems clean.” He
took a sip directly from the bottle.

And she didn’t think he could be crude. At least someone
around here had some spirit. She gazed around at the others and noticed even
more fakeness: auras filled with suspicion, lies, deceit, slovenly lust, and
worse.

Derrick coughed “It’s clean. But…” He set the bottle down.
“I think we should make some new friends.”

“You mean the other shifters at that table?”

He nodded. “Yeah. You ready?”

The expression on his face showed concern. Sonja was glad
for it, she didn’t like being here, but this was apparently a necessity. She
took the bottle from him and stood. “Let’s go.”

Leading the way to the other shifters, she walked in her
heels with the confidence of a woman who knew what she wanted. Derrick’s gaze
never left the swish of her ass except when it traveled up the line of her back
and burned heat into exposed flesh.

She didn’t mind being ogled by him. In fact, with him so
close, it helped her keep her head on straight while the crowd’s emotions
swarmed around her.

Derrick kept his hand on the rise of her ass, spreading his
fingers apart possessively.

She had trouble keeping her mind focused when he was close
and it had nothing to do with what he projected.

When they got within ten feet, two armed goons stood and
blocked their path. “Excuse me, but we’re not a party table.”

Derrick tensed behind her. She swore she heard his fangs
lengthen. “Too bad we didn’t request your care for our private audience.” She
let out a little of her magic and it floated in her voice.

The eyes of both goons glazed over.

“Move.” She spoke the one word in a low growl.

Just like that, the two men moved and gave her a view of the
three men and one woman sitting at the table. “We brought drinks. Do we get to
sit now?”

The man in the center had a square face with cropped gray
hair. Steel-blue eyes narrowed. He pressed thick fingers together and squared his
shoulders. “And who are you that you can invade private space?”

“Just some friends, that’s all.” She pulled out a chair and
flipped it around with one hand. Slamming the champagne bottle against the
table loud enough for the sound to ricochet off the other shifter’s ears, she
glared back at the old man in front of her.

Hostility poured off him in waves.

Derrick’s hand on her shoulder helped calm her against the
steady flow of hatred coming her way. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything
about our drinks being drugged, would you?”

His lip twitched.

Derrick bent low. “If you do, I suggest you talk. If not, it
could get ugly. I may feel the need to expose you here.”

The Russian held up his hands. “I’m a bit confused. I don’t
know what you’re talking about. I am simple businessman.” He spoke with a curt
tone and heavy Russian accent.

“Dirty bear.” Derrick’s arm flew past Sonja so fast she
almost missed it. “I’m not amused. I happen to know exactly how much your
pathetic little empire is worth. And if you’d like me to start telling everyone
here who you are so they can take aim at you…” He let the words trail off.

From the corner of her eye, Sonja saw the angry scowl
Derrick wore. Emotionally, he’d managed to keep himself in check though she
picked up strong protectiveness, rather than abject hatred.

Derrick yanked the man over the table. His eyes widened and
fear poured off him in waves. His lips trembled. “You.”

The two men by his side reached into their jackets.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Sonja let more magic,
with the strong urge for compliance, slip into the air.

The two relaxed their hands and sat back down. “How?” The
man on her right with jet-black hair and a tiny ponytail had Latin features. He
seemed stunned while his partner definitely looked confused. He kept glancing
in different directions; searching for the reason that he put his gun down.

Sonja made sure to keep that same flow of power in her
voice. She reached down into her well, imagined it bottomless, and continued
pulling in a steady stream. To guard against the bear shifter’s shock, she put
up magical defenses around Derrick and her, though most likely he wouldn’t need
them. The aura of vitriolic hatred coming from the bear would wreak havoc with
her later. For now, she would deal. “Let’s just say I have a gift for
persuasion. Now answer my friend here.”

“You don’t know who you’re messing with.”

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a goddamn. I understand
you’re the reason I nearly died. I don’t like nearly dying. I don’t like the
idea of death at all but I’m willing to execute it if it’ll get me my desired
goals. So, start talking to my friend.” She balled her fists, punched the man
in the gut.

Derrick squeezed his neck just a little harder.

The old man in front of her started choking.

Derrick let him go. “I am much faster than all three of you.
Remember that.”

“You’re…” The old man coughed. “I thought you were dead.”

Derrick only nodded. He took a seat beside Sonja and put his
hand on her thigh beneath the table. “Retired.” Derrick glared. “Now talk.”

The old man held a hand up for the two flanking him to
remain seated. He straightened his dark blue suit coat and rolled his
shoulders. “I have a lot of connections around here. I heard there’s a big
bounty on your head…and his. Someone slipped me a tip, told me what to do, and
gave me a little pass when inspectors seized a shipment of ours. That is all I
will say here.”

* * *

Derrick pulled a card from his pocket and tossed it across
the table. “Call me when you can tell me more. We’ll be in touch. Mark my
words, I will find you and prove what the rumors say about me.” He stood,
sliding his hand up Sonja’s thigh, belly, and over a shoulder. “Let’s go,
honey.”

Sonja grabbed the bottle, took a swig from it, and stood
beside Derrick. She eyed him carefully.

He kept his guard up, but made sure to let only the safe
emotions through, the protectiveness, the concern for her well-being, and just
enough danger to let the others know he meant business. So far, she hadn’t
reacted to any of his mess, not now or earlier. Good.

Lowering his hand to the small of her back, he rested his
thumb and index finger across the top of her round ass. A finger trailed
lightly over the thin material covering her ass while pressing into her crack.

She faked a giggle and glared at him. Then she took another
swig from the champagne bottle.

He sighed and led them away, well aware that she needed to
walk in front of him so she could keep the angry emotions off her.

They found another empty table in the back of the club.

The music had switched beats again. Derrick watched her jaw
tick, saw her nervously hold the bottle of champagne. She brought it to her
mouth, took another huge swig, and set it on the table.

A moment passed and she reached for the bottle again.

“No.” He stopped her. His hand covered hers, dwarfing her.

She looked into his eyes and it all became clear. This
wasn’t another death threat, someone put out a mob hit on her. Not like she was
new to these things, but the seriousness of it was beginning to finally sink
in. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”

She nodded. “Yeah. I need to get clean.”

He hardened at the prospect of helping her rid her body of
toxicity even as his mind knew she really needed to be held.

“Come on. Let’s go back to Max’s. He bought me a burner and
that’s the number on the card. I’m sure within six hours we’ll get a phone
call.”

She nodded and they made their way out of the club.

Chapter Seven

The second they made it through the doors of Max’s large
loft, Sonja slipped out of the dress and headed toward the shower.

She left the heels, dress, and panties in a pile on the
floor in such a hurry that Derrick wondered how much she had taken in from the
crowd. Of course, it could have been the fear of being poisoned. She said she
was used to this but he had to wonder just how used to threats on one’s life a
person got.

He knew. There were spooks that still haunted his dreams
even after he’d reassured himself that they’d been eliminated. Just because
shifters were stronger in many arenas than humans didn’t make them immune to
mental anguish.

Of course, that incident in another land—the one where he
almost got Max killed while slaughtering numerous innocents at the behest of
his leaders— still made him shriek at night sometimes, too. He had to keep
those memories from Sonja if he was to protect her. He couldn’t be a good guard
if he got emotionally involved, but that point had passed already. Spies were
trained to be detached, but Derrick was never cut out for espionage. He went in
after their parents died for distraction and to follow in Max’s footsteps.

He slowed himself down, took several deep breaths, and
undressed before following her into the bathroom. As soon as he hit the
doorway, he felt the sizzle of power like an electric spark between them. It
felt black and wrong.

The crowd had grown after they entered the club, and by the
time they got to the bear shifter and his entourage, he guessed she had been
feeling pretty off kilter. Sonja’s shields were weak. He didn’t know that until
now, but he suspected it had something to do with her ability to draw in the
energy of the audience and scrub it clean.

Damn woman was infuriating. He got it, he understood. She
healed; he hunted.

Right now, he’d use the one thing guaranteed to distract
her, cleanse her.

He stepped through the threshold and saw blackness sparking
before his eyes. The sight before him, Sonja in the shower, water running while
hands scrubbed her body, drew his attention back to the raging erection between
his thighs.

He took a few deep breaths and padded past the sink into the
large glass stall. His mouth went dry at the sight of her figure through the
steam.

And her sobs were audible.

He opened the door to find her naked, dripping, those
blood-red curls clinging to her luscious body. Without thought, he stepped
through the entrance and into the hot spray of water to envelop her in his
arms.

She didn’t resist. Sonja practically molded herself to him,
crying harder, sobbing into his chest. “I can’t do this!” She sniffled. “I fucking
can’t do this! It was too much! All those fake people with their bullshit, and
then that bear threatening me on someone else’s behalf. It’s just…”

He pressed his fingers against her lips and met her gaze.
Staring into her blue eyes, he noted for the first time how they changed and
became silver tinted. “So beautiful,” he whispered against her head while
cradling her. “You did it though. You’re a survivor. You’re strong, Sonja. Look
at me.” He pushed her against the wall, tilted her chin upward so she met his
eyes again. Tears washed down her cheeks and made his heart ache but he wasn’t
about to let her see that. Not when she needed him to be her rock. “You’re a
fighter. You’re fierce. Beat this, baby. Understand?”

Again, that seemingly insurmountable power filled the
bathroom nearly choking the life out of him. Derrick had to steady himself
against the wall and find that tranquil center in his mind before she forced
him to pass out.

She nodded, sobbed again, and hugged him. Soft breasts
crushed against his chest and added to the building fire in his loins, but her
warm tears stung him. He ran his hands over her ass, up her back, smoothing her
hair and moving it out of the way.

She twitched, knees trembling. The energy remained heavy
around them, but at least he could breathe now.

He held her close and inhaled her scent through the bleak
energy clinging to her. She possessed more strength than she gave herself
credit for, and that only added to his respect for her. Calming his mind, he
whispered into her ear, “You knew this would happen, didn’t you?”

She shook her head against his chest, murmured, “Yes.”

Amazed at her prowess, he could only reflect on what he
would have done in the same situation. He didn’t know if he could handle her
world. For fuck’s sake, other men and beasts had surely done worse than he had.
He’d seen the military dossiers on his enemies; they stuck around to finish the
job when he bolted.

Still, his heart surged with pride at her ability to move
forward despite the odds. “You still went with it?”

She pressed her hands against his chest and stepped back. “I
had no choice. These guys aren’t going to stop until I either do what they want
or I’m dead. And I can’t let that happen.”

He pulled her back into the folds of his body, damned if he’d
let someone ever harm her or those she cared about. “Neither can I.”

She gasped, then murmured her thanks into his skin, the
vibrations sending chills up his spine despite the heat of the shower beating
down on them both. With a shaking hand, she brushed strands of his dark hair
back from his face.

Her touch hardened him and made his nerves very aware of the
swell of her ass and luscious curve of her breasts. He bent down and kissed
her. Their lips met. The taste of champagne along with the soft, wet feel of
her skin against the head of his cock excited him further.

Sonja stepped closer now and the head of his cock bumped her
mound. Shorter than him by a good foot, her feisty attitude more than made up
for her lack of height. Awareness of his passion for her made her scent change
again and the bathroom filled with the scent of steamy feminine arousal.

Her soaked red hair looked even darker in the fluorescent
light of Max’s bathroom and contrasted against her pale skin. Plump lips
brushed lightly over his, her pink tongue darted out over his bottom lip.

He smelled her, the freshness, rain, and power. A wave of
magic brushed over his skin and raised hairs on his inner puma’s fur.

Hungrily, she kissed him, nipped his bottom lip, and trailed
her tongue down his neck.

He shuddered against her, balls and cock straining in agony.
He wanted inside her. He needed her heat.

Yet she needed from him first and that mattered more.

If he didn’t give, she’d run the risk of being off balance.
So Derrick pulled his mouth from hers and scraped his teeth against her neck.

She moaned against him, pressing her body to his.

His hands circled her hips; fingertips massaged the crest of
her ass. Then he pulled her cheeks apart and continued kneading her soft flesh.
“You’re so perfectly curved,” he murmured against her.

Her mouth found his nipple, took it between her lips.

Derrick stiffened, sucking in a breath and gripping her
round ass tighter.

She groaned. The smell of her drifted toward his nose along
with the steam-filled perfume of woman’s shampoo, the underlying scent of
sweat, and her musky sex. He could inhale her fragrance for days and still it
wouldn’t be enough.

Heart pumping faster against his chest, he pulled her lips
from his nipple.

She relented, though she suckled and scraped her teeth over
the now-hard nub. “I have teeth too, puma.” Her breath slowed, her voice dipped
and became husky.

“I know.” He lifted her up with both hands and braced her
against the wall. She wrapped her legs around him and trapped him at the head
of her heat. “I’d like very much…” Her eyes still drooped in sadness and a
swell of emotions swirling around. “…to fuck you now.”

The twinkle in her gaze and her approving nod gave him all
the reassurance he needed. He couldn’t pull power from her but he could give
her release. Through sexual stimulation, she could get lost in herself.

That was the idea, anyway.

Sonja squirmed against him, rubbing her lower half against
his, tempting him, taunting him.

He had to make her wait; the release would be so much
sweeter if he did.

Derrick lowered his head to her mouth, took in her tongue,
and sucked it, stroked it with his, then explored her mouth, slanting his lips
slightly for a different fit.

She tasted sweet, salty, and female. Even her magic had an
underlying aroma, though the other things attached to her dulled it.

Derrick pulled back from the kiss, held her beneath her ass,
and impaled her.

She groaned as water splashed on his chest, streamed down
her body.

With one hand on her ass and her back against the wall, he
thrust upwards, feeling the instantly tight-fisted heat that gripped him and
made him howl in response.

She smiled against his skin and nipped him again.

Derrick began thrusting into her, slowly at first. Her legs
tightened around him, driving him deeper.

He brought his mouth to her collarbone, sucked. Bit down
into her flesh. With a free hand, he spread her ass, ran a finger along her
crack, and pushed past her slickness.

She cried out, then clamped down harder on his cock.

Derrick drew back and thrust into her again, the delicious
friction spurring him closer to release.

She tightened her arm around his neck, brushed wet hair from
his face, and met his gaze.

He stared into her ocean-blue eyes, saw the silver sparkle,
and watched with interest as the emotional baggage faded from her.

“Good, you’re almost smiling.” He barely managed to get the
words out before she squeezed him again.

Her fingers tangled in his wet hair and pulled his head
back.

She bit into his neck. “I can be like the puma, too.” She
nipped again playfully.

Goddamn but the cat in him wanted to claim its mate. It knew
from no other how she belonged to him when Derrick the human only found himself
in this moment. While he rebalanced her, she pulled him from the wreckage of his
past. Her movements hardened him further, made his pulse race. Hell, the rhythm
of his thrusting had picked up.

He couldn’t find a way to slow down. He needed to, but she
kept rubbing her body against his. Her breasts, pillowed against his chest,
rubbed against him, driving him insane.

Spinning away from the wall, Derrick held Sonja and let the
spray hit his back. He kept himself inside her and fought the urge to bring her
to the floor and take her that way.

She wouldn’t get the savageness angle now, though the puma
in him demanded he mount her and bring her to submission.

Sonja would never be a submissive woman; the cat would have
to deal. He would grow used to it eventually, but her strength, her commitment,
and that damned feisty spirit he’d quickly grown to love would continue to buck
him.

Yet it didn’t mean he couldn’t try, couldn’t dominate her
here and now, just to reassure himself that he could satisfy every need of his
while giving her everything she would ever want.

It amazed him that he could still think clearly about her
needs, despite his wants.

Her legs squeezed his waist even harder now. Sonja’s fingers
locked behind his head. “What are you doing?”

He sealed his mouth over hers again in a kiss that seared
him when she responded. “Taking you out of here so I can have you beneath me.”

She didn’t want to leave him, didn’t want to be without him
inside her yet. “No,” she begged, her voice raspy with need. “In here. Please.”

He arched an eyebrow. His cock swelled inside her making her
feel so full and complete. She couldn’t fathom separation from him. Not when
she clung tightly to him and held on for dear life to the feelings that settled
around her. Things that comforted her, protected her, they came from Derrick.

As soon as they’d arrived back at Max’s, she needed to rid
herself of the disturbances in the club, all those dirty people, all the flack
following her around. She strolled over to the bear with Derrick behind her
because the poison attempt finally pushed her over the edge. She had to thank
the gods he wasn’t an overly dominating SOB.

She expected to shower alone, cry, and clear her mind. But
Derrick strode into the bathroom and stood before her, magnificently nude and
aroused.

Only they didn’t get to have sex that night. Damn shame, but
the crowd pulsed with all that negative shit and when she took it into her
being and cleansed it, she realized she’d absorbed too much for even the one
thing she planned on having happen since she spotted Derrick.

His pumping into her brought her back to reality, made
things work for her. Knots in her magic, her body, loosened with each stroke,
each thrust driving out the crap she’d picked up earlier.

His hips pressed him against her clit, driving tension
tighter in her belly.

Pressure spiraled in her lower abdomen. Every nerve in her
burned with animalistic need only Derrick could sate. Her skin tingled with
delicious anticipation and her mind raced at the sensations rocking her entire
being, swirling at the attentiveness of Derrick’s lovemaking.

His mouth caressed her shoulder, neck; lips caught her flesh
and suckled.

He thrust again, filling her and caressing her clit with the
gentle rocking of his hips.

She groaned against him, shuddered, and tightened her grip
on his frame. The emotional baggage slid off her body along with the slickness
of sweat.

“Fuck me, Derrick!” She begged, aware that she sounded less
like her death metal diva self and more like the husky siren that was
so
not her. She didn’t care. Derrick embraced all of her.

He’d seen her cry and he came to comfort her. He saw her
naked and came to slake the lust from both of them while helping her deal with
the raw emotions coursing through her.