Ahhhh. Life was good.
“So,” Shen said to Stevie, turning his head toward her, “want to go inside and—”
He stopped talking because he wasn’t talking to Stevie’s face. He was talking to her ass.
With her body between the two seats, she was leaning over so she could reach the back.
“What the hell are you doing?” Shen demanded. “Why am I talking to your ass?”
“I’m trying to get my backpack.”
“You could have just gotten out of the car, opened the backseat door, and pulled it out that way.”
“You and your logic! This seemed like a good idea at the time. It’s just the bag is stuck under the seat and . . . got it!”
She began to shimmy her ass back into the front, dragging her ridiculously oversized bag with her.
“Here—oooooh!” She cringed as her stupid bag sideswiped his head. “Oh, gosh, Shen. I’m so sorry.”
“Why do you hate me?” he asked, rubbing his temple.
“I don’t hate you!” she laughed. “It was an accident. Let me see your head.”
“It’s fine,” he grumbled, reaching for the door. “Let’s just go inside.”
Shen got out of the car. He waited until Stevie had lugged her bag from the vehicle before engaging the locks and alarm, and then together they returned to the house. He put in the passcode to shut off the home’s alarm. He secured the door, put on the alarm for the windows and doors but not for the inside of the house, so they could move around freely without accidentally bringing in the local cops.
Yawning and stretching, he tossed his jacket onto the nearest chair. Then he removed his holstered weapon, checked to make sure the safety was still on, and put it on the coffee table.
“You want some ice cream?” he asked. “I think the delivery guys brought flavors other than crunchy mango bamboo.”
Not hearing a response, Shen looked over his shoulder, but Stevie wasn’t behind him.
“Stevie?” he called out.
Thinking she’d already gone to bed—but wanting to check so he wouldn’t worry—he started toward the stairs but stopped when something scrambled up his back.
Shen froze. “Stevie?”
He heard a purr and that’s when she stretched herself over his shoulder; her legs resting against his back, her arms and torso free-hanging against his chest.
“What are you doing?”
“Throwing myself at you.”
“Is that what this is?”
“I’ve found that for a woman to throw herself at a man, all she really has to do is get naked.”
And that she was. Naked. Not a stitch on. Not even socks.
Sadly, Shen couldn’t even argue with her logic. Naked was usually the best way to get a man’s attention unless he had a specific kink.
“Stevie—” he began, but she’d started using her hands to knead a spot way too close to his groin and Shen jerked. A random, abrupt movement that sent Stevie head over ass off his back and onto the floor.
Before he could even reach to help her up, she was back on her feet.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “You startled me.”
* * *
Stevie pushed her hair off her face and shook off the embarrassment of falling flat on her ass in front of the guy she was so into. She’d admit that Shen was taking a lot more work than she was used to. Of course, most of the guys she’d been with were scientists who were more acquainted with their hand than a woman who was hot for them. Shen, however, was probably used to way hotter girls coming on to him. Rap artists and supermodels. The kind of girls Stevie didn’t have a chance against except in a battle of intelligence.
But Stevie wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. She knew what she wanted and she knew Shen liked her. So she’d give it one more shot.
“Look,” she began, reaching back with one hand to brush something off her rear, “I like you.” She brushed her butt again. “A lot. And if you’re interested—what is on my ass?” she screeched, trying to look over her shoulder to see what was touching her.
Shen took hold of her upper arm and held her in place as he leaned over and removed whatever she’d picked up when she’d hit the floor.
He held it up for her. “Bamboo leaf.”
“Oh.”
“They’re kind of all over the floor because of my eating. The cleaning staff will take care of it. But if you’d feel better, we can start cleaning tonight. Get all this stuff off the floor and—”
That was it. She didn’t want to hear anything else about cleaning the floor, and she was tired of the mocking smirk on his face. She was going to take one more shot at this.
Stevie grabbed Shen’s black T-shirt, twisted her hand in it, and yanked him down so that when she went up on her toes, she could reach his mouth.
She kissed him, hard, using her tongue to part his lips.
Now, if this didn’t work, if he still showed no interest, then fine. She’d move on and forget about . . . forget about . . . something. What had she been thinking about? Because she really couldn’t remember now that Shen was kissing her back.
Any doubts she’d had about his level of interest were washed away. Especially when he buried his hands in her hair and turned her head so he had better access to her mouth.
His tongue moved around hers; toying, teasing. Her body immediately responded. Her nipples getting hard. Her pussy getting wet. Just from one kiss.
The promise of that kiss alone had her lowering her hand to his crotch, her fingers searching out the zipper of his jeans. But he stopped her, pulled her hand away.
She was about to get angry. If he mentioned how young she was again, she was going to lose it!
“You threw yourself at me,” he said, moving around her. “That means I make the rules.”
“I’ve never heard that before.”
He stood behind her now, both her wrists caught in one of his big hands.
Shen leaned down and moved her hair off her ear so he could press his mouth against it and whisper, “That’s ’cause I just made it up.”
She was fine with that, especially when his free hand slowly made its way down her stomach and slid between her thighs. He pressed two fingers inside her, moving them around, finding a spot deep inside that he pressed.
Stevie started to move against his hand, but he pulled out, gliding his fingers to her clit. He took his time circling, stroking, and brushing around and across.
Her knees went weak, but Shen’s arm tightened so that she was trapped against him, unable to fall, his other hand still gripping her wrists.
As his fingers moved, his tongue did the same against her ear. Stroking the outside, teasing the inside.
Stevie pressed out her chest, but he ignored her breasts completely, which was making her nuts. She wanted his mouth on them. Or his hands. Something!
Sweat began to bead on her skin. And she could hear herself purring. Her hips were moving, trying to follow his fingers wherever they went as long as they kept stroking her clit or fucking her pussy. She didn’t care.
Shen walked forward and she didn’t even have to do anything. At this point, her feet weren’t even on the floor; they were pressed against his lower legs, her toes rubbing against the denim.
Her entire body was rubbing against him.
She felt him going down.
“Bend your knees,” he ordered gently and she did, assuming he was going to stop so he could get a blow job. She understood, though. She could feel his cock through his jeans and it was hard and ready. And, from what she’d felt . . . huge. She liked huge. Max had once called her a “size queen.”
Stevie didn’t know they were in front of one of the armchairs until Shen pushed her face down on the seat. He moved his hand away from her crotch, but only for a moment. A few seconds later, his fingers reentered her from behind, using the change in position to stroke her a little harder.
He released her wrists and brought his now-free hand back to the front of
her pussy. He wet two fingers inside her and then dragged them back to her clit. He began circling and circling, while still taking her from behind.
Stevie pressed her cheek against the leather chair and let Shen work her body anyway he wanted to at the moment. Because it all felt amazing. Even though he wasn’t touching her nipples, they were against the seat. Every time Shen pushed her forward, the grain of the leather rubbed against them, exciting her even more.
Then Shen licked his way up her spine and that first orgasm took her by complete surprise. She gasped hard, her legs shaking, her hips writhing.
She came, but it was quick. A shock to her system.
Shen didn’t stop. He was too busy working her with his hands and licking her back. She felt his fangs brush against her human skin, and that set off a second wave. Another orgasm about to crash down on her. About to take her over. She couldn’t stop it. Even if she’d wanted to—and she didn’t. Because Shen wouldn’t stop. He just kept going and going until Stevie cried out into the leather cushion. Her hands reaching out and grabbing the arms of the chair, gripping them so tight she was sure she’d have to replace the whole thing. But it was the only thing grounding her, tethering her to this world as the second orgasm broke her down, left her panting and shaking.
Shen finally pulled his hands away, and she felt his absence when he moved.
She didn’t even care. She should. She should call him back and return the favor, but at the moment she could only kneel in front of the chair, the rest of her limp against the cushion, and attempt to get her breath back.
She had no idea how long Shen was gone and, as she began to shake off the sex daze she’d been caught in, she wondered if he’d left her.
Her rational brain, which was buried deep at the moment, was trying to tell her that probably hadn’t happened; but her irrational brain was just hoping they weren’t done. And if he’d left . . . they would be.
Some time passed and Stevie placed her hands on the cushion so she could push herself up. She’d find out where he’d gone and deal with it.
But just as she’d levered her upper body off the couch, a hand wrapped around her ankle and yanked her down to the floor before she was unceremoniously flipped over.
Shen was kneeling in front of her. He was completely naked now except for the condom on his engorged cock and the scowl on his face.
To Stevie’s own surprise, she wasn’t frightened by that scowl. She recognized it. This was not anger or annoyance, it was focus. She’d seen similar expressions on her fellow scientists when they were trying to fix a problem.
With his hands gripping her waist, he yanked her close and angled her hips up. He entered her without a word. And he was as big as she’d thought. He filled her completely and she briefly wondered, Could he tickle my tonsils with that thing?
More than willing to find out, Stevie slapped her hands on his shoulders, wrapped her legs around his waist, and left the rest up to him.
* * *
It was the wild panda in him. It was out of control. A fear he’d had as soon as he’d met Stevie for the first time in the Queens house living room.
The wild panda in him had wanted to grab her ankles, lift her off the floor, and have her suck his cock for an hour or so until he was completely drained. His wild panda side was like all wild pandas. Horny, demanding, and insatiable. That’s why he kept that part of himself hidden except from other pandas. A full-human could never handle that. And most of the other shifter breeds just got freaked out. They, like everyone, expected giant pandas to be cute and docile. And, if Shen had grown up in a zoo, he probably would have been.
He hadn’t grown up in a zoo, though. And Stevie MacKilligan had thrown herself at him. Naked and demanding. She’d even purred. Purred!
What was he supposed to do with purring other than fuck it? Fuck it hard. Fuck it long. Fuck it forever!
Then she made it worse. When he’d shoved his cock inside her without even the most basic, “You up for this?” she didn’t start pulling away or telling him to wait or asking him to be nice. Nope. She’d just buried her fingers deep into his shoulders and growled at him. Growled.
Not able to stand another second of this, Shen stayed on his knees and took a tight—probably painful—hold of Stevie’s hips. Holding her in place, he plowed into her, loving how her pussy gripped him. How it pulsated around him. And every time he entered her again, her grip tightened. Not on his shoulders, on his cock. Her pussy gripped his cock tight each time he pushed in, making Shen crazier than he already was.
He hadn’t thought that was possible!
Did she know what she was doing to him? Did she care?
Too bad he couldn’t be bothered to find out.
Then again, he wasn’t really that worried. The harder he fucked her, the more she held onto him. She pulled her fingers away from his shoulders and moved her hands to his back. She gripped him tight again and he was just thankful that, unlike some cats, she didn’t unleash her claws. He loved his spine and would hate for it to be split into pieces, even if it was during the best sex of his life.
And it really was the best sex. Not just because of the way Stevie’s hips moved—she had this little swirl thing going on that was driving him insane—or the way her legs tightly held onto his hips or the hiss she let out every once in a while. All that was great, but it wasn’t just that. It was her. It was all her.
Shen placed one hand flat against her back so he could keep her pressed against his chest as he turned on his knees away from the chair. It was in his way.
Still buried deep, he put Stevie on the floor, placed his hands on either side of her head, and raised himself up a bit. Then he just took her. He fucked her hard and long, loving every second of it. He placed his hands so she didn’t slide across the hardwood floor, keeping her trapped by his body. But, again, she didn’t seem to mind. Her hands gripped his sides and she raised her legs higher, spread them wider. Her back arched and he went deeper inside her.
He soon realized he had to come. But Stevie was nowhere near. Thinking she might need her clit stimulated to get there, he pulled one of her hands off his body. He brought the hand up and took her middle finger into his mouth, sucking it for a few seconds, getting it good and wet. Then he pushed her hand between their bodies, pressing the middle finger down on her clit. He couldn’t tell her what to do. He wasn’t a chatty guy when he was fucking. Thankfully, she understood without words, and began to massage her clit while he continued to brutally bulldoze into her.
The muscles gripping his cock began to tighten around him even more, and he knew she was close. He held on until her back arched and her legs shook. And as she beautifully came, he watched her. Watched her writhe and moan and desperately gasp right beneath him before he finally let himself go. Before he finally had what he wanted.
He threw back his head, suddenly realizing he was sweating and had sent droplets of that sweat across his sister’s nice hardwood floor. But he didn’t care.
He was too exhausted to care about anything.
He gave one last gasp and dropped on top of poor Stevie. Not even caring he was probably smothering her.
But he felt her wiggle her way out from under him and crawl onto his back. She stretched out, asleep seconds before he was. The last thing he remembered was her purring against his upper back and kneading her fingers against his shoulders.
chapter SIXTEEN
They sat on the floor, Shen’s back against the base of the chair, Stevie on his lap.
She’d been heading to the couch when he’d gently steered her back to the floor. She got it, though. He didn’t want her naked ass on his sister’s furniture. Totally understandable.
Smiling, she snuggled in closer and closed her eyes. She started to drift off to sleep again until she heard the first crunch. Then another. Then another.
Opening her eyes, Stevie leaned back a bit. Shen held out the bamboo stalk he’d been eating.
“Want some?” he asked.
“You really don’t get sick of that stuff?”
“Nope. I started teething on it when I was still a baby. I can’t imagine my life without it.”
“Okay.” She snuggled back in. “You can keep eating.”
So he did, holding stalks in one hand and cupping her shoulder with the other, keeping her tight against him.
What she never thought would be true, though, was that after a few minutes . . . the crunching was the most calming thing she’d ever heard. Because not only was it continuous, it was consistent . . . and soothing. So goddamn soothing. Because it never changed. He’d use his fangs to rip off part of the sheath of the stalk, then bite into the stalk . . . chew . . . chew . . . bite . . . chew . . . chew . . . rip off sheath.
It should have made her crazy. And she kept waiting for that to happen. Eventually, though, she simply fell asleep again.
* * *
From her spot on a hangar roof a good distance away, she saw that they had arrived. It was originally believed they would all arrive the day of the event, but then it was discovered they were already in the air and heading this way.
And now that they’d arrived, she could see that there were a lot of them. All male. All armed. Shorter than the Americans, but that didn’t mean anything. For shifters, height and weight didn’t always have much significance.
Dee-Ann continued taking pictures on the digital camera until the entire group disappeared inside the hangar closest to the landing strips.
When the last male was inside, she tucked the camera into her bag and quickly climbed over the hangar roof. Once she was back on the ground, she took off running, past the few workmen still around. As soon as she was across the street, she jumped into the waiting black sports car and closed the door behind her.
“Go.”
Malone pulled away from the curb and onto the street. She careened around the slower moving vehicles and nearly ran down a late-shift worker.
Then, with a dramatic spin of tires and a turn that would make a lesser man vomit, they landed in a safe spot near closed businesses.
Malone turned off the headlights and looked over at Dee-Ann, grinning.
In a Badger Way Page 21
