Disciplining the Beast: Taming the Beast, Book 5 (4 page)

“What?”

“Hey, you’re the one who screwed up. Don’t expect us to work miracles.”

“I was simply following orders.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Move it.”

He backed away, cut the corner too quickly, and passed through the wall.

Heather and MJ jumped apart, their tops undone, hair disheveled.

He wanted to scream. “Does no one work here?”

MJ grinned. “Not unless we have to. Wanna stick around and watch us, maybe participate?”

Heather slapped MJ’s arm. Just as quickly, she sucked in a breath. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have hit you, but I don’t want anyone with us except Daemon. You know that. Still, I was out of line. Please forgive me. I really didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn’t. Come here.” MJ grabbed the back of Heather’s neck and tugged her close.

They locked lips again.

Rafael slogged to the break room. Sprawled in a chair was the guy who’d kissed Heather earlier. All muscle, he looked well over six feet, had sun-kissed skin and dark brown hair long enough to skim his shoulders. Crumbs clung to his bristly upper lip. Chocolate smears dirtied his mouth. Strewn across the table were Hostess cupcakes, Milky Ways, Milk Duds, and several bulging sacks from McDonalds.

He shoved a whole cupcake into his mouth and swallowed without chewing. “You’re new.”

Rafael had never felt as old as he did now. He sank into a chair.

“Taking your break? I’m Daemon by the way. Used to be a satyr until I ditched my hooves for feet. They’re ugly as hell, my feet, not my former hooves. Becca used Eric’s as the prototype. What can I say, least they work. The best part of me is my cock. Heather makes me cover it when the pizza guy delivers. She doesn’t want him to feel bad because he’s not as hung as I am.”

Rafael covered his eyes with his hand.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to show my stuff to you. Wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings either.”

He groaned.

Cellophane crinkled. Paper ripped. Daemon belched. “Want a cupcake? I don’t usually share, but I only have two minutes to eat the rest of my snack before I’m back on the clock. Don’t know if I can finish that quickly. Here.”

He slid a cupcake to Rafael.

Heather popped in. “Daemon, no.”

He froze. “What? I didn’t belch. Okay, I did once, but it didn’t bother him. He was okay as soon as I promised not to show him my rod. I did good, right?”

“Perfect. Except for this.” She put the cupcake back on Daemon’s side. “No sharing with him. Not after what he did to Wynona.”

Rafael held up his hands. “I didn’t do anything I wasn’t supposed to.”

Daemon pushed a Quarter Pounder into his mouth, swallowed, and stifled a belch. His nostrils flared. “What happened? Did Stefin put you up to something? He’s had some damn cool ideas about the reaper. Shooting her off in a rocket. Digging to the center of the earth, dropping her in, and building a skyscraper over the hole. Blindfolding and then shanghaiing her to the far corners of the universe without a map so she can never find her way back.”

“Stop it.” Heather smacked his shoulder. “Please.” She stroked the spot she’d hit. “Rafael kissed her.”

“Get out. You’re a brave man. Some might say crazy, considering.”

Rafael bristled. “Because she’s a reaper?”

“Isn’t that enough?”

“Maybe you people should be nicer to her. In fact, as her parole officer, I’m insisting on it.”

“Nicer, like kissing her as you did?” Daemon’s cheeks puffed out. He slapped his hand over his mouth. “Sorry, but even the thought makes me want to hurl. Hanging out with MJ is bad enough, but a reaper too?” He shuddered.

Rafael frowned at Heather. “You’re the good one here. Tell him to be nice to Wynona.”

“I’d like to, really.”

“Then do it.”

She sucked her lower lip. “How nice?”

Poor girl was as clueless as the others here. “Verbally nice, not physically. No need to kiss or touch, ever.”

If any guy was going to enjoy Wynona, it’d be him, long, hard, and thoroughly.

The room whirled. He gripped the table and lowered his face.

Heather touched his shoulder lightly. “You okay?”

No. The effects from his and Wynona’s kiss had returned with full force. Her glorious touch, the way she’d sagged against him. Not because she had to. She hadn’t seemed able to help herself.

He’d lost control as easily. Part of his reaction was naked lust, but the greater portion was a longing to be close, connect, lose himself within her stunning heat, her incomparable fragrance.

Too bad all that cool stuff belonged to a rebel reaper. Worse, his charge. He’d had no right to overstep his bounds with her. He should have made her ass off-limits, ignored her precious nipples poking his chest, and kept their French kissing to a minimum. No more than a couple minutes tops. What had he been thinking?

Heels clicked in the hall. He looked over. Becca stopped in the doorway.

Daemon shoveled food into his mouth with both hands. “I’ll be through in a sec.”

“No rush. But would you mind finishing at Heather’s desk? I’d like to have a word with Rafael alone.”

Great. Now, Becca would come down on him when the hugging and kissing had been her idea.

Heather and Daemon cleared out quickly.

Steeling himself, Rafael waited for the worst.

Becca closed the door and sat next to him. “I heard what happened. How could you? I mean, you’re supposed to be one of the good guys. You and I talked. I practically begged you to understand the situation. So how could you?”

“How is this my fault? You told me to hug and kiss her, which I did, just as you said.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I told you to kiss her cheek, not shove your tongue halfway down her throat.”

Seriously? He didn’t recall the cheek part, just the kissing.

She snapped her fingers close to his face.

He leaned back. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get rid of your lewd grin.”

He’d been smiling?

Becca scowled. “When did I tell you to hurt Wynona’s feelings by saying the only reason you kissed her was because I told you to?”

“Never. But in my defense, she did ask.”

“You couldn’t finesse your answer a little?”

“I was caught up in the moment.”

“Yeah, I heard. You guys were spinning like a top with her legs around you and your hands on her butt.”

Heat rushed to his face. “She would have fallen if I hadn’t held on to her. She could have gotten hurt.”

“She
was
hurt. By you.” Becca poked his chest. “Now she’s not talking to any of us, especially me. She thinks I set this up so you could make a fool of her.”

“What? No. I’d never. I like her.” Too damn much. Hadn’t he proved that with his outrageous kiss?

Becca stood. “You have a funny way of showing your feelings for a woman. For the next few days, keep your distance. I’ll have Zoe provide you with a report of what Wynona does during her shifts. You’re not to approach her in any way, shape, or form. I don’t care what your orders are from on high. This is my turf, and you’ll abide by my rules while you’re here.” She backed way. “I have enough trouble running this place without you adding to my problems or making one of my friends feel bad.”

“Sorry.”

“Save your apologies for Wynona, if she ever talks to you again.”

Chapter Four

During the following weeks, she was a stone-cold reaper and got icier with each passing day. Screw being nice and having friends. To hell with hugs and kisses. Wynona had lived without that stuff for eons. She’d manage to get through her time here no matter what anyone did.

Suddenly, the staff members were born-again sweethearts, no longer diving into treatment rooms to avoid her as they had in the past. Locks weren’t thrown, gazes weren’t averted. If they smiled any harder, their damn faces would crack.

She ignored them and kept her peace, waiting for the day when she could reap at will without anyone, especially Rafael, haunting her every move.

He didn’t speak to or dare touch her. However, he was always nearby, in the halls, by Becca’s office, in the reception area and the break room. No matter how hard Wynona resisted, she kept catching his celestial scent. A whiff of pure wonder mingled with sheer bliss and utter male.

Each time she smelled him, her legs wobbled. One time, she had to sag against the wall to keep on her feet, but she pulled herself together and moved on, glad he’d made himself scarce. The few times she caught glimpses of him, she hurried away and drove his image from her mind. That long, dark hair, exquisite eyes, full mouth, bristly cheeks, broad shoulders, sculpted abs, the precious bulge between his powerful thighs.

Okay, so she had to work on making him history.

As far as the staff was concerned, she drew them more easily than a corpse attracts flies. Whenever she was with a client, there always seemed to be an audience, watching closely, cheering her on.

Waiting for her to fuck up?

She guessed Zoe or Stefin reported her every move to Rafael.

Maybe it was time to give her PO something shocking to hear or read. After holding back for too long, Wynona was ready to cut loose tonight.

She marched to the reception area. Lights flickered, dogs howled, wind rattled windows.

Heather flinched, but her grin didn’t waver. “Thanks for taking this client.”

Wynona turned to the guy. A reaper. What else? His dark suit was perfect for a funeral director, his complexion pastier than the Pillsbury Doughboy’s, features appropriately skeletal, hair colorless and lank.

He took in her leather bodysuit, cut low on top and snug everywhere else. With her four-inch heels, she towered over him.

He stared at her boobs. One deep breath and those suckers would pop out.

“Hey there.” She stepped closer, hips swaying. “I’m Wynona.” She slapped her hand on the back of his neck and tugged him into her. “What’s your name?”

Heather choked and coughed.

His gaze darted to Heather and then back. “Ah…”

“Take your time.” Wynona stroked his onyx tie. “We can get acquainted in your treatment room.”

With her arm firmly around his waist, she moseyed down the hall, her hip bumping his ribs.

He cleared his throat. “You’re a friendly one, aren’t you?”

“Are you complaining?”

He ogled her breasts. The mounds bounced merrily with her steps. “Will mortal babes be like this with me after I go through the program?”

Only if he had massive plastic surgery and came out looking like Rafael. Fat chance of that. Becca would probably have to call her mom, a celebrated witch from a respected coven, and get a cosmic potion from her. Not that this dude’s new appearance would change anything. He’d still be a reaper. “You do understand, with mortals you can look but not touch, unless you’re claiming them forever.”

“Totally. But it would be nice to have them running after me for a change rather than chasing them while they shriek, sob, and pray for me to go away. Does shit for my ego.”

She understood where he was coming from and yanked him closer. “I’ll do my best to see that you’re not only utterly satisfied, but deliriously so.”

“Wow, this is some service.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet, but I swear you will.”

Stefin, Taro, Anatol, and Zoe looked over. They huddled in front of her treatment room, clearly tonight’s audience. So be it. She’d put on a real show for them. Once Rafael learned the particulars, he might sprout some gray hairs.

Let him feel like a loser for a change. Dismissed. Unwanted. Forgotten.

Zoe bared her teeth, her attempt at a smile. Taro and Anatol slapped on their friendliest faces. The stuttering flames in their eyes told the truth. They still feared or disliked her. Stefin arched one eyebrow and glared.

Zoe drove her spike heel into his foot.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head. Once he’d recovered, he offered a pained smile.

Wynona steered the reaper to the doorway and cupped his scrawny ass, making certain everyone saw what she did. “This way, hon.” She directed him into the room and squeezed his butt.

He shot to his toes. “Damn, that feels good. Can you give me something to make mortal women do that?”

“Sorry, no. They can’t touch you either unless they have a death wish. But I can help you relax.”

“I’m horny, not uptight.”

“You will be once the program starts. Let’s nip those nasty feelings in the bud.” She spun him around and hauled him close, their thighs touching. “No tongue, understand?”

“What?”

“Quiet.” She claimed his mouth.

He jerked, parting his lips.

She clenched her teeth and pinched the skin on his ribs, twisting hard. He moaned, clamped his mouth shut and played dead, the same as a virginal bride.

Praise the Lord. He wasn’t the world’s worst kisser, but no freaking way was he Rafael. His mouth had commanded, lips embraced, tongue conquered and satisfied.

Damn him. Tears burned her eyes. She squeezed her lids tighter and hardened her feelings. Rebels didn’t bawl like little girls with broken hearts. They got through the worst crap and did more than survive. They thrived.

She cupped the package between the reaper’s legs.

He gasped. So did someone else. Given the gravelly sound, it had to be Zoe. A flurry of whispers followed.

Good, Wynona had shocked them, including the reaper. He got over his surprise quickly and pushed his so-so stuff into her palm. Not because he liked her. He wanted to use her for relief then take off for more deserving babes, just like all guys.

Not this time or ever again.

She released him and stepped back. “On the table.”

“Whatever you say.” He undid his tie, pulled it from his collar and looked at her questioningly.

“What?”

“After I’m naked, did you want me to help you finish undressing?”

Her right boob hung free from when they’d kissed. She stuffed it inside the leather.

His mouth turned down. “Are you through relaxing me?”

“Damn straight.” Zoe snapped her fingers and gestured Stefin forward. “Your turn to take care of our client.”

Stefin stared. “You expect me to kiss him?”

The reaper skittered back.

Zoe sighed. “No, you don’t have to kiss him. Get him on the freaking table like you would any client.”

“Got it.” Stefin rolled his shoulders, unbuttoned his cuffs, folded them back, and made fists as big as hams.

The reaper pressed against the wall, and the little color he had drained from his face.

Zoe turned to Wynona and tried another smile. “You did an awesome job escorting the reaper here. Best I’ve ever seen. Right, guys?”

Taro pumped his fist and whistled through his teeth. Anatol applauded vigorously, Stefin grunted.

Zoe tapped her foot. “What was that?”

He wrenched the reaper from the wall, picked him up by his throat, and dropped him on the table. After smoothing down and buttoning his cuffs, Stefin gave Wynona a stiff smile. “You did great.”

“Oh, yeah?” She faced him. “You know what that means, at least according to Becca. Now you have to hug and kiss me. The rest of you guys too.” Wynona opened her arms. “Come to mama.”

No one moved.

Wisps of smoke rose from Zoe’s hair. She batted it away and exhaled noisily. “I hate to pull rank…”

“No prob.” Wynona got kittenish. “If you’d like to hug and kiss me first, I’m cool.”

The flames in Zoe’s eyes flashed. “Do you want Rafael to send you to Hell with no chance for parole?”

Wynona shook her head. “Who?”

Zoe frowned. “Your PO.”

“Who?”

“Look, I know he hurt your feelings.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t have any. I’m a reaper. We’re lower than radioactive sludge.” She turned to the client. “Right?”

He leaned away from Stefin. “I’d say we’re way below that.”

“Not to us.” Zoe edged closer to her. “We want to be your friend. You’re my sister. My family. Becca’s too, and everyone else here.”

Sounded nice. A regular fairytale…as in too good to be true. “I’d prefer coworkers who keep their distance and don’t put on a show because they think I’m too stupid to get it.” She pointed at the guys. “If any of you dares praise my work again, says anything nice or smiles even once more, I’ll make certain you regret it.”

Stefin chuckled. “How? It’s not like you can yank out our souls since we don’t have any.”

“I can rip off another part of you. One that will really hurt. Can’t I?”

Taro and Anatol covered their groins and stepped back, sober as pallbearers now.

Zoe shook her head.

“Why are you still here?” Wynona glared. “Shouldn’t you be racing to wherever Mr. Wonderful is to tell him about my behavior today? When you give him your oral or written report, make sure to mention my kiss with…uh…” She turned to the reaper. “What’s your name?”

“Olaf.”

Poor guy was hopeless. She focused on Zoe. “Make sure what’s-his-name knows about my time in here with Olaf, how nice I’m treating clients, and that after my shift, I’m going to be equally friendly while I party hearty at an area nightspot.”

Olaf tapped her shoulder.

She whirled around. “What. Is. It?”

He held his hands to his chest. “Do you mind if I come with you?”

“Free country.” She turned back to Zoe. “Did you get everything I said or would you like to use the computer in here to key in details?”

The flames in Zoe’s eyes faded to pinpoints. Her hair stopped smoking. “Please don’t reap anyone. Don’t put yourself in unnecessary danger just because you’re still hurt.”

Wynona’s throat tightened. She wanted Zoe to hug her but wouldn’t ask. Weakness was for sissies or fools who enjoyed getting steamrolled by life, mortals, supernaturals, and hunky male angels. No way. For her, those days were over.

“I’m not promising anything.” She brushed past and stormed to her office.

* * * * *

Rafael rolled his forehead over the break room table, arms dangling by his sides. Zoe’s latest report had hit him harder than he’d expected. Anatol, Stefin, and Taro had added juicy details to what she’d written, making a bad situation worse. Thankfully, they’d stopped jabbering a few seconds ago and kept a silent watch on him now.

Daemon rubbed Rafael’s back, his touch clumsy and rough, but at least his hand wasn’t boiling hot like the demons’. “You doing okay?”

Like Heather, Rafael couldn’t lie. “No.”

“Maybe this is for the best. Reapers belong together. While Wynona and Olaf are out tonight, what can she do to him?”

Make him a man, put color in his sunken cheeks, stiffen his limp rod, and pull delighted screams from his shrunken chest when she should be doing those things to her PO. The guy who was supposed to call the shots with her.

Holy crap, how had things gotten to this point?

For weeks, Rafael had been a good soldier and steered clear, not saying a word about Zoe’s increasingly disturbing reports. How Wynona was suddenly taking her breaks on the balcony, which attracted howling mutts from miles away. When the breeze picked up, she wouldn’t budge from the spot until she’d generated hurricane-force winds. Once inside, she’d stroll down hallways on the lower floors, playing havoc with those patrons’ lights.

Since her in-your-face behavior hadn’t done any real harm, he’d resisted cracking down. At least she’d been professional with the clients, until tonight. When had the makeover program included fondling Olaf’s sagging ass, cupping his puny balls, welding her mouth to his thin lips, and practically inviting him to join her as she prowled the nightspots for other conquests.

Not souls. Oh, no. Tonight, she’d be on the lookout for reapers, vamps, or zombies who’d let her crawl all over their bods while she did the nasty to them.

An anguished moan poured from him.

“Feel good?” Daemon rubbed harder.

Pain slashed down Rafael’s back. He grabbed Daemon’s wrist. “You can stop. Thanks.” He sat up and sucked in air.

Taro, Stefin, and Anatol exchanged a glance.

Rafael panted at the lingering hurt. “What?”

“Wynona’s clearly losing control.” Stefin rested one arm on the table. “So why not give her enough rope to bury herself?”

“You mean hang herself?”

“Same difference. Let her run wild and get into all sorts of shit. Then waltz in, pick up the pieces, throw her in a dungeon, and move on to a new case. You might get a bad fairy the next time. I hear they’re way easier.”

Daemon snorted. “You haven’t met Heather’s adoptive parents. Rotten to the core.”

Rafael slumped in his chair. “I can’t give up on Wynona. I know I can save her. I have to. It’s my job.” The truth, sort of. He wanted to turn her around for reasons that had nothing to do with his position.

He glanced at the wall clock. Her shift had ended ten minutes ago. Without saying goodbye to anyone, she’d fled as if the place was on fire, Olaf close on her heels. “Where would she go tonight?”

Taro lifted his shoulders. “There are dozens of places in the area, maybe hundreds catering to supernaturals.”

“Try thousands.” Daemon peeled off the wrapper of a Milky Way. “You need to count clubs she could fly or teleport to.”

Rafael shook his head. “Not possible. She’s earthbound until she serves her full parole or I discharge her early for good behavior. When SACS learned about her rebel reaping, they took away her clearance and clipped her wings.”

The flames in Stefin’s eyes danced. “Ripped those things right out of her, huh?”