Prowl (Pride Riders Book 3) (4 page)

BOOK: Prowl (Pride Riders Book 3)
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She tried to smother the grin that threatened to lift the corners of her mouth. “If you can get my ass on that nasty asphalt and you would be doing something.”

“I’m telling you, you’re going to want to join me, no matter where it happens. I got the good shit.” He raised his arm and opened his hand. A little bear-shaped bottle lay in the center of his palm. Gold liquid filled the plastic container. “I saw how disappointed you were when you had to leave the bottles behind at the gas station.”

Her mouth watered. She took a few steps forward, and the honey badger quieted in her mind. She reached to snatch the container from his grasp. He captured her wrist and tugged her into the room, slamming the door behind them. Aristotle shoved her up against the wall and pinned her with his body.

He nuzzled her throat, and goose bumps rose along her skin. “Sugar, you’re wearing too many clothes.”

She looked down. He flexed his hand and stiletto-sharp claws protruded from his fingertips. He caught her T-shirt at the hem and sliced upward, cutting through the material. The two jagged flaps fell at her sides. Aristotle skimmed his knuckles down her skin and her stomach quivered with a need she never felt before.

He placed his arm above their heads on the wall and leaned in. He dropped his head and buried his face between her breasts, inhaling deeply. “You smell so damn good, like fresh warm honey buns.” Aristotle raised his hand and with the flick of a claw, her bra cups joined the halves of her top, hanging limply to the side. He angled his head and sucked an erect nipple between his lips.

Moist warmth leached through her areola. Bane’s knees buckled. She would have slid down to the floor if he hadn’t held her up with his body. Her beast cooed in satisfaction.
Damn traitor.

Aristotle released her taut nipple and lifted his head. “I wonder how much sweeter you’ll be with this.” He eased his arm between them and twisted the top off the bottle. The yellow lid dropped to the floor. He tipped the container.

The rough lip of the bottle scraped her skin as he slid it across her chest. The slow-moving amber liquid flowed down her breasts, coating them in syrupy stickiness. He reared back and stared at her body before smiling so wide the sincerity lit up his eyes. Aristotle reminded her of the children in her tribe who’d discovered a new toy. His joy was infectious.

Bane exhaled. Instead of questioning their attraction, she would enjoy the few hours they had together. When it was over, she would disappear.

She dragged her finger through the honey and sucked the gooey fluid from the tip. Sweetness exploded in her mouth; the hint of wildflower added a distinct flavor to her favorite substance.

He moved lower. Bane watched as he dipped two digits into the bottle, and set it down on the carpet before smearing honey across her belly.

He straightened, looked over his shoulder, then back at her. Without a word, he yanked her against him, covering his clothes with the liquid. Aristotle scooped her up and stalked to the bed, dropping her. Faded nubby fabric made her palms itch as she pushed up and rested on her elbows. He stood at the foot of the bed, reached behind him and jerked the T-shirt over his head, tossing it on the bed.

She studied the tattoo she’d only caught a glimpse of.
Shifter Nation
dominated his right pectoral, outlined by tribal markings that flowed down around his ribcage and up across his shoulder. It was the only image that marred his body. She followed his hands as he flicked the button on his pants. Carefully, he unzipped and shoved them over lean hips and down his thighs. Freed, his cock bobbed and thumped his stomach. Bane licked her lips, and then spread her legs.

Aristotle stepped out of his jeans and crawled up on the bed. The soft mattress gave way under his weight. He inched closer and his biceps tightened as he locked his arms. Strands of his hair stuck together where honey had rubbed on his hair from his shirt. She met his gaze. His cheetah stared back at her, dark pupils dominated by light caramel irises. He rolled his head on his neck and growled. His eyes returned to normal.

“Guess I’m not the only one with beast issues.” She joked to ease the tension building within.

He shook his head and gripped her pants leg, yanking them off. She was pulled off her arms and her back hit the mattress. His tacky palms stuck to her skin as he skimmed his hands up her calves. Aristotle dipped and pressed his lips to her knees. He raised her leg and swirled his tongue along the inside of her thigh, slowly making his way up her body. Her clit throbbed and she squeezed her legs in an effort to close them. He blocked her efforts with his torso.

Bane pushed off with her feet to scurry back. He held her in place and settled between her thighs. Aristotle sat back and rested on his calves. Releasing her leg, he bent forward and lapped at her honey-streaked stomach, circling her belly button with his tongue. Her muscles quivered under his ministrations.

He needed to be lower. Right then, she wanted his mouth on her pussy. He moved down nipping at her hip, and then he splayed his hands at the junction where her legs met her pelvis and held her down. The warmth of his palms bled into her skin. A deep rumble escaped through her lips and echoed through the room. Her badger was getting impatient.

Aristotle kissed the top of her mound and brushed his lips against the trimmed hair covering her slit. She tried to bend her legs and he tightened his hold. His chin brushed her clit and waves of pleasure ebbed through her nether regions. She angled her hips up and he traced her labia with his tongue. Cream flowed over her folds. He wrapped his tongue around her clitoris and she bowed off the bed. She fisted his hair, one hand on each side of his head, holding his head in place.

Ari scraped his teeth over the tiny bundle of nerves and she flexed her pelvis up, grinding against his mouth. Pressure built in her core. He slid his hand between them and eased a finger into her channel; then he added a second digit and crooked it.

“Oh shit!” Bane cried out.

He thrust deeper, faster. Her slit pulsed. She shut her eyes tightly as spots in a myriad of colors danced behind her lids. Currents sizzled along the nerves in her legs, coalescing in the small of her back. She released his head and reached for the headboard behind her. Her beast reared up in her mind. Claws curved from her nail beds, puncturing the plywood. Creaks accompanied her moans.

She opened her eyes and glanced down her body. Aristotle looked up at her. Downy fur coated his face His cheetah was gaining control. He rumbled and the sound vibrated through her body, making her toes curl. She bared her teeth in response.

Aristotle bit down gently on her clitoris. The headboard tore away from the wall as she ripped her talons free. Tension exploded, surging through her body and flooding her senses with a gratifying blissfulness. Her vision tunneled until Aristotle’s face was the only thing she saw. Bane yelled out. No sound reached her ears and she was cast adrift into nothingness.

“Sugar,” his voice floated to her. “We are nowhere near done.”

Aristotle flipped her over onto her stomach. Her limbs sprawled out, refusing to obey her commands. The honey badger clawed at her mind, urging her back to consciousness. Coming up on her knees, his rod thumped her ass. Arousal, twined with adrenaline, flowed through her veins. She pushed back. He gripped her hips, his nails digging into her soft skin. He drove his dick into her passage, filling her. The bedspread bunched around her fists as she clasped handfuls of the cover and dragged it to her.

He grasped her shoulders. She hung her head, panting. Her channel pulsed around his rod and she swiveled her hips, bumping back to his rhythm. Springs in the mattress squeaked with every thrust. Despite the coolness of the room, sweat coated her skin.

Aristotle leaned forward, plunging his shaft into her with jackhammer quickness. His weight bore down on her. She snapped her head back into the crook of his neck. A short burst of bellows fell past her lips. His grunts added bass to the music of their coupling.

In her mind, the honey badger lowered its head, exposing the back of its neck and she mimicked the movements. Aristotle opened his mouth and scraped his teeth along the side of her throat. Anticipation stiffened her spine. He bit down, breaking the skin, and her body trembled as desire paired with delight rode the upsurge of her orgasm. She stood on the precipice of gratification and willingly fell into its chasm.

Bane collapsed and Aristotle dropped with her, twisting to the side. When she was able to focus, she turned her head to stare at him. He caressed the wound on her neck with a thoughtful smile lifting half his mouth.

“I understand what my brothers were going through.” He met her gaze and grumbled. “When you meet them, don’t tell them I said that.”

She lay there several moments, simply breathing, then moved to rise and immediately stopped. Her arms shook from the soreness. “Your secret is safe with me. I need a shower.” She knew what she’d done, but didn’t want to think about it. Caught up in passion, she’d offered Aristotle her submission. If he would run her down before, she knew now he would never let her go.

Shit just got ridiculously complicated.

Aristotle watched her for a long time before sitting up. Briefly, a thoughtful look crossed his features. “Sugar, you have the best ideas.” He rose out of the bed. “Give me a minute,” he said as he padded behind a narrow door. Beyond the thin barrier, running water could be heard.

He reappeared in the doorway. “Sex in the shower is on my bucket list.”

Chapter Four

 

Myra signed the room service bill and held the door open for the waiter, closing it soundly behind him as he spun around. She sat down at the table and lifted the top from the dish. Mouthwatering aromas reached her nose and her stomach growled. Porterhouse steak, rare, and half a dozen scrambled eggs covered the plate. Goddess, how she loved the gluttony in America. She gripped the knife and cut into the meat. Bloody juices seeped from the beef.

Classical music broke the quiet in the room. She lifted her head to stare at the cell on the end table, and then back at her breakfast. Anytime a call came so early in the morning, it couldn’t be a good thing. She exhaled. If another one of Ellory’s men fucked up their carefully planned assimilation of El’s Pride, she would castrate the asshole and make her mate see the error of his ways in keeping such weak Pride mates. A flourish of dramatic drums changed the ringtone. She shoved her chair back and marched to the phone.

A quick check of the screen and she sucked in a breath. Well, this was a surprise.

“Colonel, you’re calling me. What an interesting turn of events,” she purred. She and Malachai had business dealings that went back years; he was one of the few humans that knew shifters existed and wielded that knowledge like a weapon, using her kindred to cut down his enemies and build an empire.

Myra chuckled. The human was useful, but crazy. If he’d been a part of her clan, she would have slit his throat in his sleep.

“A freelancer hasn’t checked in and before I dispatch a team to collect her, I thought I would call you first.” Malachai’s deep voice poured through the phone.

“We haven’t had any dealings in some time, love.” She’d heard the rumors. He’d crossed the wrong pack. A war was sure to break out between them and she wanted no part of it. Tribes were watching carefully to see what the outcome would be. Ultimately, if she had to choose, she would side with the wolf pack. If the jackass revealed to the world that shifters existed, there would be consequences.

“I contracted a mission to a certain honey badger. She was supposed to update me on her progress and I haven’t heard from her. Perhaps you remember her; she was your protégé at one time. Her name is Blaireau.” A deadly edge colored his voice. “

Myra wiped a palm down her face. She’d warned that badger before they parted ways to stay away from certain individuals. Next to her, Blaireau was the best thief out there. The girl was gifted with featherlight fingers. Blaireau could lift anything and be miles away before their mark had even realized they’d been robbed.

“She’s a professional, I taught her myself. If she hasn’t contacted you, no doubt there is a valid reason.” She’d taught the honey badger everything she knew. Until their slight disagreement, that girl was like the daughter she’d never had.

“I was hoping for a better answer than that,” Malachai rumbled. “I was calling you out of respect, given your years of service to me…”

Myra pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it incredulously. She’d never worked for the Colonel. Their business had always been mutual collaborations.

Malachai was still speaking when she lifted the phone to her ear again. “…I strongly suggest you find her and have a chat with her before I am forced to look for her myself. If I have to chase the honey badger down, I give you my word she will not survive the meeting.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist. You obviously have never dealt with her species before.” Myra snorted. “As a general rule, they truly give less than a damn, and will take on animals much larger than themselves. If you go after her, it might be you who is surprised. If she is willing to fight a snake or lion, how easy would a human be to kill, mmm?”

“Put the word out, jaguar. Get to her before I do, or there will be one less animal in the world to put down,” Malachai uttered quietly. “Consider this a courtesy call. There won’t be another one. Now say thank you, Colonel.”

“Fuck you, Malachai. Blaireau getting hurt is the least of my concerns. She can take care of herself. It’s you who should be worried. Since you decided to call and impart me with your
human
wisdom, allow me to educate you in the ways of the beasts. We are watching. You have no clue about the chaos surrounding you. If you make one wrong move, you will never see who is coming for you.”

She slid her finger over the screen and ended the call to his sputtering. Myra twisted around, peered at the table and sighed. What were a few more minutes? Her breakfast had probably already cooled.

She dialed the only number she had to reach Bane. A message center, the number immediately rang through to voicemail. “Precious, seems you have gotten into a bit of trouble, Malachai is looking for you. Word of advice; wherever you are hiding, stay there.” She ended the call.

“You ordered us breakfast.” Ellory’s voiced the obvious. Standing at the table, he cut up the piece of meat and popped it into his mouth. “Delicious.”

She set the cell down and ambled toward him. “I ordered
my
food. You were sleeping.”

“A vigorous night of lovemaking with you always wears me out.” He cut another strip of steak and raised it to his lips. “Your phone woke me. Have you not heard the term vibrate?” Ellory cocked a brow.

She stopped and stared at him.
Goddess save her from overbearing men
.

“I’m well aware of the expression, love. I may even have a few in my suitcase…” She dropped her gaze to his crotch, “…in case you have issues. As a backup, of course.” She continued toward him and brushed his fingers as she pulled the knife from his hand.

“Your little toys can’t compete with the real thing.” Ellory winked at her. “Who was on the phone?”

“A part of my past rearing its ugly head.” Ellory didn’t need to know more than that. What may have seemed strange to others worked out wonderfully for them and their secrets from each other were just that—theirs.

Ellory chewed slowly and swallowed. “Is it something I need to know about?”

She stared at her lion shifter, and thought about it. Malachai wouldn’t be calling her again. He would try to handle Bane on his own now. She chuckled at the idea of the Colonel cornered by the honey badger. Her mate’s brows came together and she raised her hand to caress the spot between his eyes. “It’s handled. Have you heard from the guys you sent after the tiger and the cheetah?”

“I didn’t send guys; I sent Leoane. She called two days ago to report the cats split up and she chose to follow the cheetah. I suspect they will meet up again at a later time. El is aware of my existence, and his guard is up now. They could have realized they were followed. I’ll decide how to handle the situation at her next check-in.”

Myra turned away and cut off the edge of the steak. She placed the knife down and picked up the piece of meat. Ellory opened his mouth and she slid the piece past his lips. “I have always loved your level head. But when it comes to your twin, you don’t think quite as clear. Any word on Zima?”

“I know exactly how I want to proceed when it comes to Eldridge. Some animals simply don’t understand my motivations.” He exhaled. “I have our techs in Africa searching for Zima.”

Myra narrowed her eyes. “Then what’s our next step? We can’t sit idly by waiting.”

“That has always been your problem, Myra; you have no patience.” He caressed her cheek before sitting down in the chair she vacated. “El loves those orphans he picked over the years. I had an idea during the last fiasco, but before I implement it, I wanted to get a report from a source I trust, which is why I sent Leoane. She is fresh to the situation”

“That tells me nothing.” Annoyance skidded through Myra. She knew Leoane…and Zima. Given the chance, she’d bet her nest egg Leoane would double-cross her mate just as Zima had.

“We take what my twin loves dearly; his people. We will begin systematically breaking down his support system until no one is left, starting with those closest to him.” Ellory forked up some eggs and stuffed them in his mouth.

“I haven’t been here long, but I do believe that hasn’t worked out the last two times you tried this.” She reached past him and picked up the glass of orange juice. “I’m basing that assumption on what you told me.”

He stopped with the utensil midair and peered up at her. “The first plan was sound, it was executed incorrectly, and because of that stupidity I made the mistake of believing I could handle things alone the second time. You’re here now, so with you and Leoane, I believe the odds are in my favor. The best way to ruin my brother is by working from the inside.”

“Possibly.” She took a sip of the beverage. Ellory was up to something, she could see it in his eyes.

“Which is why you, sweetheart, will be joining El’s tribe.” He took another bite of the meat.

She choked, the acidic liquid burned as it rushed down her throat. Myra covered her mouth, coughing into her palm. Her eyes watered. “I’m a thief, dear, not a spy.” Her words were rough.

Ellory kept his gaze on her. The corners of his mouth turned down. “Do you want to be Alpha female…or not?”

****

Bane rubbed her cheek against the cool pillow and lifted one lid. She eyed the scarred nightstand and groaned as she turned onto her back. Beside her, Aristotle murmured incoherent words and twisted his head away from her. She stared up at the ceiling. Big brown spots dotted the plaster. Her muscles ached from the previous night’s activities. With a groan, she rose up on her elbows and studied her surroundings.

A beat-up, peeling dresser sat under a large mirror with chipped dark edges. Two chairs upholstered in faded blue material were next to a small lopsided table beneath the window. The air conditioning unit kicked on and the metal casing, along with everything near it, rattled. It was far from a five-star hotel, but she’d been in worse places.

Carefully, she rolled to the edge of the mattress and slid over it, landing on the carpet. The thin Berber was rough and clammy beneath her palm. She eased his keys off the nightstand before snatching up her jeans and his shirt, scuttling backward toward the door. She stuffed her clothing under her arm and wrapped her fingers around the knob. The hinges squeaked as she pulled the door free and stopped. Cool air whipped through the crack, chilling the side of her body. It was times like this that she missed her fur.

Jingling caught her attention and she glanced up. The door was hooked by a chain attached to the wall.
Fuck
, when had he attached the damn thing to the wall? She slid up the thin barrier and eased the latch free.

She glanced over at the bed. Aristotle lay on the pillow she’d vacated, staring at her. He lifted his head and rested his chin on his fist. “Going somewhere, sugar?”

“We’ve had our fun. It’s time to get back to reality.” Bane pulled her pants free and stuffed her legs in them. The rest of her clothing dropped to the floor.

“This is our life, sugar. You’re marked…by me. Your protection and well-being are now my main concern.” He sat up and rolled his shoulders. “Where are you going?”

“Business. I have an appointment with white sands and clear seas.” She cleared her throat. “Nothing to worry your geeky head about.”

“And your plan of sneaking out in my shirt without your shoes?” The corners of his mouth twitched. Aristotle leaned over and picked up her boots, tossing them to her. They landed at her feet with deep thumps.

She scrunched up her nose. “You ripped my tee. I would have picked up some footwear on the road.” She kicked them upright and pushed her feet into them. Bane bent and picked up his shirt, His keys tumbled to the floor.

“Plan on leaving me stranded, too?” He rose and stretched his arms above his head.

She watched the play of muscles in his torso and stomach. His biceps lengthened and bunched with his movements. Her gaze was drawn to his cock nestled in tight curls of dirty blond hair. His erection grew under her perusal. She licked her lips as images of their night together filled her mind. She recalled the way his mouth felt on her skin and the rough texture of his tongue as he lapped at her pussy. A tingle of awareness sent shivers down her spine. Her honey badger raised its head in her mind. She was supposed to be sneaking away, not contemplating pushing him back in bed and riding him into glory until they were both too tired to move.

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll be paying for another night in this shithole,” Aristotle growled.

“Like what?” She shook her head and decided to change the subject. “I was borrowing your bike. I would have left it where you would find it. Like at an airport parking lot.” He lowered his arms and continued staring at her, making her uncomfortable. “You owe me a motorcycle anyway.”

Aristotle rolled his head on his neck. “You were peering at me like you stared at that bottle of honey last night.” He nodded at the plastic container next to the wall. “As for Greta, nobody rides my girl unless they are on the bitch seat.”

His shirt bunched in places and made a
crackling
sound as she tugged at the seams. “You named your cycle Greta?” Her belly rumbled and she rubbed it. It occurred to her she hadn’t eaten in two days.

“Yeah, she’s been good to me. Jealous?” The corners of his mouth lifted in that crooked smile she was starting to enjoy seeing.

“Of a motorcycle? Not.” She pulled her shirt over her head and yanked the door completely open.

BOOK: Prowl (Pride Riders Book 3)
6.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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