Panther's Claim (Bitten Point #2) (10 page)

S
o
, exactly how was a guy supposed to comport himself when meeting a girl’s parents for the first time, shirtless, still smelling of smoke—oh, and let’s not forget the musky scent of pussy on his fingers and lips.

Given a certain father glared at him—and he meant glare with pointed daggers, laser beams, and maybe a few bullets—and stood well over seven feet, Daryl was less than keen to get too close.

He could probably crush my head with those hands.

Or swing us by the tail
, agreed his feline.

With good reason in either case, seeing as how he’d totally gone to third base with his daughter.

Since Daryl planned to live to a ripe age—with all his body parts intact—he did what any self-respecting guy would do. He managed a gruff, “Excuse me, folks, I really gotta pee,” and took off running. He also took the straightest path, and that involved vaulting over the couch so as to not get too close to Cyn’s daddy, and dove into the bathroom.

Safety. Ha ha!
He’d made it. He shut the door to the facilities and leaned against it.

A rabid bear didn’t come charging through. Things were, while not yet looking up, at least not getting worse.

Could things get any worse?

He’d bitten Cyn. Had the most erotic moment in his life. Ran into her father. Seen one possible future, and it was crushing. Literally.

Exactly what direction should he take to stay out of trouble?

Did a safe path even exist?

Since when did he care about safety? This feline lived on the edge. Danger and adventure were practically his middle name. No, seriously, he craved adventure, given his job as a construction worker wasn’t all that exciting, but it was great for keeping him tanned.

Can’t tan if I’m six feet under.
And before anyone went calling him a pussy, the guy towered at least seven freaking feet! Add in he was Cyn’s dad, and Daryl was screwed without lube.

“Shit.” Realizing he’d said it out loud, he leaned over and turned on the tap. With the rushing sound of water covering his actions, he muttered a few more choice curse words.

What were her parents doing here? How the hell had they gotten into his place? Should he hide in here until they left? That seemed pretty chicken, even if he was fifty percent sure Cyn’s father would try and kill him.

You also forgot the part where you abandoned Cyn.

It’s her parents.

Even worse.

Fine. He’d have to go back out and save Cyn, but he couldn’t go out smelling like he did. Having experience with mornings where he hit the snooze button one too many times, he was well experienced when it came to quick bathing. He stripped and jumped into a shower that started out cool since he didn’t wait for it to heat. The bar of soap lathered his skin, leaving it fresh smelling—a shame, he rather enjoyed wearing Cyn’s scent on his skin. Maybe he’d rub against her later.

Lick her again.

Great idea.

She is our mate.

Bang
. He wondered if anyone heard him rap his forehead off the tile wall. It was hard to war with a lifetime of casual affairs to a ridiculous certainty she belonged to him.

Mine.

Help.

He pretended he didn’t whimper that word as he rinsed. The towel hanging on a hook provided a handy dry, but he couldn’t go out wearing it. Given his washer and dryer were in the bathroom, hidden behind folding doors, he managed to find some clean clothes. Wrinkled, but who cared? At least he smelled more presentable, not that Cynthia seemed pleased that he’d washed away the evidence of their dalliance.

As he stepped from the bathroom, wisps of steam misting about him, she tossed him a tight-lipped look.
The look
. A look that men all over the world feared.

His mother used that look on him as a child. It still worked, but wow, was it even more frightening on Cyn’s face.

“Feeling better?” she snapped as she crossed her arms over her chest. She also cocked her head, sending her untamed hair flying. So much hair. He loved it. Wanted to grab it and pull it and…

Um. Yeah. Not exactly the right time to be thinking about that. Big head, stand down. Little head, use some of that brain matter before he was doubly murdered, probably by Cyn first.

He made an attempt to alleviate the tension. “I feel much better, thank you.”

“Awesome, because Daddy has some questions for you.”

“He does?” Because it looked more like her daddy had an ass whooping waiting for him.

“I’m sure you won’t mind telling him how we hooked up and what we’ve been doing.” He caught the barb she sent his way and could have kissed the smirk teasing her lips. “My turn to strip out of these clothes and get clean,” Cyn announced as she skirted her parents for the bathroom. As she brushed past Daryl, she murmured, “Hope you have a few lives left, darlin’.”

With those reassuring words, she closed the door and left him alone with
the parents
. Dum-dum-dum. Did anyone else hear ominous music playing?

“You must be Daryl,” said the woman. Where her husband was big with a dark complexion, she was short and rotund with pale skin. She also had the wildest honey brown hair, totally at odds with her prim knee-length skirt and perfectly pressed blouse.

“I see where Cyn gets her smile and gorgeous hair from.”

A hand reached to pat it. “Thank you. It runs in my family. I prefer to keep it tamed, but Larry likes it like this.”

“He doesn’t care about your hair, Eleanor. He’s trying to kiss ass because he’s gotten our baby girl embroiled in something dangerous.”

“I have not. It just kind of keeps happening,” he added with a shrug.

“How did you meet?” Eleanor asked, her eyes bright with rapier interest.

Should he mention the whole kidnapping thing? Exactly how much did Cyn’s parents know about her current quest to find her friend?

“We met over drinks.”
And then went back to her motel room and slept together.
He didn’t mention that part mostly because that platonic evening with a hot woman would totally ruin his reputation as a bit of a ladies’ man.
Rowr
.

“Drinks, eh?” The stare narrowed.

Translation:
You thought you could get my daughter drunk and put the moves on my precious baby girl.

Was it too late to run for the window and the swamp?

His cat smacked him with a furry mental paw. He could handle this. “Cyn came to the bar looking for people who might have seen her friend. She recognized me from a photo. We talked about it. Once Cyn realized I had nothing to do with Aria’s disappearance, she agreed to let me help her.”

“And do you help all young naïve girls by having them come stay with you?” A dark brow arched, and teeth were bared.

Even if Cyn’s father stood with a leg in a walking cast, Daryl didn’t doubt the man could hurt him, hurt him badly, especially since Daryl couldn’t, out of respect to Cyn, hurt him back.

Fuck.

“Larry, stop teasing the poor boy. I’m sure he’s got nothing but honorable intentions toward our girl. Right?” Eleanor’s bright eyes pierced him.

“Um.” He knew what the right answer was. It was on the tip of his tongue. It showed on the marking on Cyn’s inner thigh. He just couldn’t say it aloud. Saying the words “Cyn is my mate” would irrevocably change things.

Yet didn’t things change the moment I touched her?

Before Daryl could blurt something that would probably see Larry’s granite fist meet his face, a phone rang. More like sang “Hotel California” by The Eagles.

Three sets of eyes went to the smartphone dancing on the counter, a cord dangling from its charging port. It was Cyn’s phone, left behind on their excursion today so it could charge its totally dead battery.

Should they answer it? The song seemed to taunt them to do something. But still, none of them moved.

Steam preceded a certain irate mocha hottie as she stalked from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. “Are none of you capable of answering?”

No, they weren’t, since a smiling face and the name Aria lit up the screen.

For a moment, Cyn’s face blanched, and then she recovered and snatched at her phone answering with a, “What the hell, Aria? Why haven’t you been answering? You scared the poop out of me.”

There was an avid listening audience as Cyn turned to lean against the counter, phone held out, the speakerphone activated. She didn’t need to put her fingers to her lips for them to know to keep quiet.

“Sorry, Thea. I’ve been roughing it the last few days. Communing with nature and all. You know how I love to sleep under the stars.”

Everything sounded fine so far to Daryl, yet for some reason, Cyn’s lips pursed. “Yeah, well, you had me worried. You usually call every day.”

“Shit happened. I was just calling to let you know I am fine.”

“Where are you now?” Cynthia still bore that crease on her forehead. The tension practically oozed from her.

“Here and there,” was Aria’s vague reply.

“Are you in Bitten Point?”

Even Daryl, who’d never met Aria, knew that the laugh she uttered was fake. “I’m long gone from that place. Just wandering the road.”

“Listen, why don’t we hook up? I took some time off from my practice. You know, the stress and all. Why don’t I join you? We can have a real Thelma and Louise adventure.”

“You can’t do that.” The most starkly said thing so far. “You should stay home. I’m busy. Real busy.”

“Busy doing what? Aria, is everything okay?”

The rustle of a hand covering the receiver was very noticeable, as was the sudden silence as the call was muted on Aria’s end.

It didn’t take a genius to decipher the agitation in Cyn as she twirled a wet strand of hair on a finger, as if her curls needed any help.

When Aria returned, it was abrupt. “I’m fine. Everything is fine. I’ve met a guy. A hot guy. He’s traveling with me. That’s why you can’t come. Maybe next time. Listen, I gotta go, Thea. I’ll try and call you in a few days, but if I don’t, don’t worry. I’m having the time of my life.”

“Then tell me where you are,” Cyn whispered. “Aria—”

Her friend cut her off with a rushed, “Bye.” Then the line went dead, and Cyn’s knees buckled.

She didn’t hit the floor. It took Daryl leaping and diving so he hit the floor first, but better he take the impact than Cyn. Injury averted, he squirmed to a seated position, holding her on his lap.

“Come on, Cyn. No need to freak. At least we know she’s alive.”

Obviously Aria had managed some kind of covert message because that was the only explanation for Cyn’s distress. “You don’t understand. That conversation, all of it was fake.”

Her father dropped to a knee, the one in the cast outstretched, and touched Cyn’s cheek with a ham-sized fist that was rough in texture yet gentle in its touch. “Baby girl. Don’t you worry about Aria. Daddy’s here, and we’ll make sure she’s safe.”

Eleanor sniffed. “Of course we will. The nerve of keeping her prisoner. Don’t they know she’s the second daughter of my heart?”

Cyn sniffled. “How will we find her?”

“First thing in the morning, we’ll go looking for where she stayed and her car.”

“She rides a motorcycle,” Cyn said.

“Whatever. Chet’s right. We should have been looking for where she was staying. Maybe then we’ll find a clue.”

“Sounds like a fine idea,” Eleanor exclaimed with a clap of her hand. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

Larry turned his head to address his wife. “What do you mean we’ll see them? Thea’s coming with us.”

“To stay where? Our hotel room only has one bed, silly bear.”

“So we rent another room.”

“The hotel is full,” said Eleanor through gritted teeth. She grabbed her husband’s arm. “We should go. Let these two rest. Here. Alone.”

Why did Daryl shiver when Eleanor winked at him?

Larry got to his feet and glowered down at his wife. “Go? We did not drive six hours for us to just leave our daughter with this—this—”

“We are leaving
now.
” Spoken with utmost steel at odds with the sweet smile Eleanor turned Daryl’s way. “We’ll see you two tomorrow morning.” Gripping her husband by the arm, they went out the door, leaving them alone but still able to hear Larry’s muttered, “I don’t like it.”

“I know, dear. Get over it. And hand me your phone. I need to post a status update.”

Still seated on his lap, Cyn groaned.

Daryl immediately turned his attention to her. “Honey, are you all right?” Had she hurt herself falling against his rock hard body? Fact, not much conceit.

“I’m fine, but not for long, and neither are you. You do realize that my mother is now announcing to the world that we’re sleeping together?”

“But we aren’t.” Yet, which was splitting hairs.

Cyn let out a very unladylike snort. “My mother doesn’t care about those kinds of details. She just found me with a guy, in his place, wearing his shirt, looking like we just fooled around in a firepit. You’re lucky she didn’t start measuring you for a tux.”

“So we’ll set her straight.”

“Good luck with that.”

Did Cyn have to giggle when she said it?

To change the subject, which was veering uncomfortably close to the thing he’d done that should not be named, he said, “We should talk about Aria’s call. Even I could tell the entire thing was bullshit.”

Widening her eyes, Cyn glanced at him. “You didn’t buy it either?”

“Not for a second.”

“Good because the whole thing was bogus. Aria hates camping, and I mean hates it with a passion. She is a girl who loves a soft mattress with cleans sheets. Also, if she were going to hook up with a guy, she would have told me. In today’s world, a girl can’t be too safe. There’s a lot of freaks and psychos out there, so the first rule of dating is to let someone else know who we’re seeing.”

“Did you tell anyone about me?” He could have slapped himself for asking because he’d just implied they were involved, which they were. But still. Fuck.