by Brenna Lyons
“And how do you know I mean to stay?” he asked suspiciously.
Thank you, Tim. I owe you a beer for this one. “I’m not my father’s best electronic tracker for my pretty face. I’m not that shabby at foot tracking, either.” Though, the pretty face does occasionally help with that.
Devon withdrew his hand, and Michelle pasted on a smile to hide the sense of loss coursing through her.
“Are you?” he asked.
“I am. I trained specifically for it in college. I’ve always wanted to go into the family business, and this was my way in. I’m afraid I’ve made myself rather indispensable, though.”
He ranged his gaze over her, and she gasped in surprise at the hunger in his expression. Yes. That was the look she wanted to see again.
“A woman of many talents,” he noted.
Michelle shivered at the possible hidden meaning in that. “Some say so,” she countered smoothly.
His smile disappeared. “I should—”
She grasped his arm as he started to turn. A fine tremor raced under her fingertips.
“I really should leave,” he managed, though he made no move to do so.
“And if I offered to let you stay?”
He turned back, a fierce determination burning in his eyes that stole her breath. “If you do that, I will be forced to ask your father to give me leave to pursue you in any way you prove agreeable.”
She forced a breath, wetting her upper lip. “I think I’d like that,” she managed. She’d certainly be willing to help Devon enjoy his vacation properly, though she didn’t want a permanent relationship.
He stared at her, perhaps shocked by her blunt acceptance. Or was he calculating how best to approach her father to take her up on it?
“Is that so?” James asked, breaking the moment.
Devon winced, turning to him, probably planning to offer an apology for speaking out of turn.
“Of course it is,” she answered before he could speak. “I’m sure you’re going to ignore my autonomy, since Devon is a Warrior, so why don’t we just settle this now?”
Devon shot her a look of disbelief, then looked back to James, seemingly waiting for an explosion.
Her father’s smile widened. “You want to pursue her?” he asked.
“By your leave alone,” Devon replied hastily. “My intentions are honorable.”
“Mine aren’t,” she warned. There was no sense letting either of them think she was in the market to be some Warrior’s mate.
Devon half-turned to her, his expression assessing.
James chuckled. “Do you still want to pursue her?”
“Oh, yes.” The hint of challenge was in his eyes.
Michelle raised an eyebrow in acceptance of that challenge. She’d never lost before, and she wasn’t about to lose now.
“And if she refuses to mate, Devon?”
He seemed to consider that, clearing his throat, darkening. “If she refuses me, I must accept it.”
“Very well. Since you seek a permanent arrangement, you have my leave to act as young lovers will.” He paused. “Syth help you. You’re going to need it.”
Devon bowed his head in thanks, casting her another hungry look. Her father went back into his office and closed the door.
Time to put this game in motion. “Well, I do have to go into town,” she informed him. “We could meet—”
“I’ll come with you. I imagine we have a lot to talk about.”
“Yes. Perhaps we do.” A lot to talk about if he thinks he can order me around.
* * * *
Devon knew it was coming, whatever ultimatum was brewing in Michelle’s pretty brain. They would understand each other perfectly before he was done.
“So, you accepted my suit,” he prodded her.
Michelle pulled off the side of the mountain road and into a small grove of fruit trees, putting the truck in park. She turned to him, her expression starkly serious. “Let’s get one thing straight, Devon. I’m not the mating kind.”
“Mmmm hmmm,” he murmured, smiling as her nipples came to points for him.
“I don’t want to be sealed. I don’t want to be the mother of your sons. I want a hot time in bed, and you keep giving me looks that...”
He unclasped her seatbelt and lifted her, turning Michelle astride his lap.
“Promise that,” she gasped.
His half-erect length came to full attention, and he pressed her to it, rocking his hips to grind it against her. Her eyes closed in ecstasy and she rode him, groaning softly.
Devon pulled her head toward him, tangling his fingers in her golden tresses and taking full advantage of her parted lips. Her mouth was frantic against his, her tongue sliding along his while their bodies ground in mimic of what he’d soon have. Her nipple was already hard and ready when he tweaked it. Michelle jumped in response, then pressed harder against him. Gods, but the woman was hot!
Her hands pulled at his shirt, and Devon switched the engine off. The urge to take her on the grass outside the door was insistent, but that would be giving Michelle what she wanted. Devon had no intention of that.
He eased her hands away, dimly noting that she’d unbuttoned half of his shirt. Good. If she wanted him badly enough, he might just leave Armen range with a mate.
Michelle tried to pull back, but he clasped her head to his, swallowing her groan of protest. She sighed, moving against his thrusts.
The game was sweet torture, all the more so when her climax neared. She pulled at his clothes, alternately fought her climax and pursued it, and even escaped his kiss to plead with him. Devon nearly laughed at that, but it was more important that he make his point first.
Then the moment crashed over them. She stiffened, then eased into his chest with a ragged cry. Her scent was sweet and pungent, an assault on his aching body.
“Devon, I—”
“You want more?” he interrupted her.
“You know I do.”
He brushed his lips over her forehead. “It’s not fun, is it?”
Her brow furrowed. “What isn’t?”
“Being unfulfilled. That’s what release is like for me.”
“Release is—” she started to argue.
“Experiencing a climax and wanting more. At least it is for Warriors who are ready to settle down. Let’s get this straight, Michelle. It seems your father gave his leave, because I want more than release. Neither he nor I are comfortable with the idea of you sampling a little Warrior cock with no return.”
She pushed away, settling on her knees beside him, seemingly livid. “How dare you! How do you know what my father—”
“Warriors understand each other well enough.”
“So, you’re saying you won’t fuck me unless I agree to marry you?” she challenged.
“I’m saying I won’t fuck you at all. Your father gave me permission to pursue you as my mate.”
“He gave us permission to act as young lovers will,” she shot back.
“A woman I pick up for release isn’t a lover, Michelle. A lover is someone you want more with. Unless I have a reasonable expectation that you’ll consider being my mate, you’ll remain as unfulfilled as I am. Oh, I’ll give you orgasms, mind-blowing orgasms, but to get what we both want... Both of us have a shot at it or neither does.”
Michelle crossed her arms over her chest, her face crimson and her jaw tight in fury.
“I’ve given you enough to consider. I’ll see myself back to the manor and my car while you finish your errands. Have a nice day, Michelle.”
He didn’t give her time to argue. Devon slid out of the truck and strolled away, savoring the taste of Michelle in his mouth and the sun touching his chest in the vee of his half-opened shirt.
* * * *
“That son of a bitch,” she growled for the tenth time in the last hour. Four of them had been uttered before she’d regained enough composure to start driving again.
He’d rattled her horribly. There was no deny
ing it. So far, Michelle had left her keys behind at two stores and left her credit card behind at a third.
“He is going to pay for this,” she vowed. All of the Warriors learned that quickly enough. After the examples she’d made of Tim and Tyler, few had been stupid enough to try her again.
But that had been the typical male bullshit, their belief that they had the right to order her around, despite her autonomy. This was different. Her retaliation would have to fit the challenge.
For a moment, Michelle considered simply refusing him. It would serve him right if she called a halt now, coming out on top, one orgasm up on him. One...tremendous orgasm...
A smile curved her lips. Michelle pulled a three-point turn and headed back to town, a new plan in mind. Devon would pay. He wanted to leave her in agony? Two could play that game.
Chapter Thirteen
Devon opened the door to his hotel room, raising an eyebrow at the sight of Michelle. The little vixen was stretched out on his bed in the most alluring sky blue lace teddy he’d ever seen. He strode inside, locking the door behind him, trying to ignore the insistent ache of his now-erect cock.
“Cyber tracker?” he asked.
She smiled. “You did use a credit card to pay the bill. I told you I was the best.”
“I won’t deny that I’m surprised to see you here.”
“You doubted my abilities?”
“No. I doubt your willingness.”
“Well, my intentions still aren’t pure, if that’s what you mean.”
He nodded. “Thought so.”
“I guess you’ll just have to convince me.” Her smile widened.
“It’s against the rules of sanction to convince you to willingness. You know that.”
Michelle stretched her back, and Devon shifted toward her, noting that he could see the darkened tips of her breasts through the lace...the faint outline of her pubic curls, even the darker patch where her juices had wet the fabric between her thighs. The temperature in the room seemed to kick up ten degrees.
Her voice was dripping in invitation. “Oh, I’m more than willing, Devon. You just have to convince me to be your mate. You intend to do that anyway.”
He nodded, his mouth watering.
“You made promises this afternoon,” she hinted, stroking her fingers in little circles over her mound.
“I most certainly did.” Devon stripped off his jacket, weapons belt, boots, socks, and shirts, then headed to the bed.
“Hmmm. Is your control that uncertain?” she mused.
He faltered, one knee raised over the bed. “What?” She was questioning his control, while she was dressed this way and in his bed, inviting him to take release with her?
Michelle stared at his jeans. “Afraid you’ll give in and fuck me?” she teased.
Devon ground his teeth at her base description of what he wanted. “I fuck blade chasers,” he corrected her.
Her eyes flashed in anger, and she turned away.
His anger faded into confusion. What the hell had he said to cause this response? “Michelle?”
She slid from the bed, reaching for a trench coat. “I’m hardly going to waste my time with you, if that’s what you’re—”
He made it to her in a single stride, taking her shoulders in his hands. Michelle tried to shake him off, but he pulled her closer.
“Let go of me,” she ordered.
“Cool your jets.”
She glared at him.
“Tyler taught me that one. Did I use it wrong?”
“Let go of me.” Her voice was low in warning.
He ignored her. “You think I’m planning to take release with blade chasers while I pursue you, don’t you?”
She stopped struggling and stared at him.
“I’m not.”
“Then what are...” She faltered.
“You aren’t a blade chaser, Michelle. If I give in, I’ll still be making love to you. Remember that.”
* * * *
Michelle stared at him, struggling for clarity. The wild urge to walk away assaulted her, then was silenced by her need...and her need for revenge for that afternoon. He hadn’t paid for that. And yet, she couldn’t shake this confusion.
Nothing seemed clear anymore. Her anger, for instance. What did it matter to her if he screwed a blade chaser?
Michelle tried to convince herself that she’d never get him to give in and have sex with her if he was releasing it with another woman. She reasoned that he wouldn’t be suffering as she was if he did. She argued that it balked the idea of a level playing field.
None of those reasons stood up to scrutiny for long. She was jealous.
And I shouldn’t be. Devon is a Warrior, a natural-born male slut.
Until they print.
But, she didn’t want to consider that possibility.
Devon released her shoulders, holding her gaze. The unmistakable sound of a zipper made her gasp. He went still, his eyes questioning her. She nodded, and he stripped away his jeans and boxers.
Michelle panned her eyes over him, hungry in a way that the other men she’d slept with had never caused.
It was a solemn truth of Warrior-born or Warrior-raised daughters that they went to extremes. They craved Warriors or men who resembled Warriors in every way...or they craved men who couldn’t be mistaken for Warriors in a pitch-black room. There was no middle ground, no slight dark men and no Vikings.
Her twin, Melissa, had gone the way of marrying a very human man. At five feet ten, with strawberry-blond hair and green eyes, Mack couldn’t be further from a Warrior if he tried. Despite the scars he bore from the beast he’d stood up to in defense of Melissa, he was no Warrior and had no desire to play at being one.
Michelle had always favored tall, dark men. She’d masturbated to visions of visiting Warriors for years.
And now I get to indulge myself. She tossed her coat on top of the dresser.
Devon took the hint. He sealed his mouth to hers, taking the lead as he had in the truck. She wanted to complain about that, to turn the tables on him, but what he was doing felt too good to stop. His hands were everywhere, cupping her to his body, arousing her with practiced ease. He lowered Michelle to the bed, covering her with his body.
She pressed to his cock, gasping as he broke off the kiss, his eyes closed in pleasure. Devon fingered the lace straps over her shoulders.
“Yes,” she urged him on. “Remove it.”
He smiled wickedly. “Not this time.”
Devon moved abruptly, rolling to one side and sliding down. In the time it took her to raise her head to question him, he’d started his seduction.
His mouth was hot and insistent against her breasts, the softness of his tongue at odds with the rough knit of lace. She groaned, fisting her hands in his hair. His fingers stroked at her clit, using the damp cloth to rocket her toward climax.
It took him only minutes to send her over. Michelle screamed in pleasure, gasping out a plea for him to stop when he continued pushing her on.
His head came up, a wicked smile curving his lips. “I promised to make you climax again and again, but—”
Her face heated. “I can take anything you can dish out,” she attested, knowing it was a lie even as she uttered the words.
“I’m not done with you yet, Michelle.” His hand retreated, leaving her drawing in ragged breaths.
She watched in disbelief as Devon sucked in his fingers, then released them and licked his lips, his gaze traveling down her body, making his meaning clear. The man was going to kill her this way.
But, what a way to go! She reached for the shoulder strap, intent on aiding him in his quest to taste her.
Devon pulled her hand away, smiling. “I like the teddy. Leave it on.”
Her temper flared. “I like a man’s tongue inside me.”
He rose to his knees, spreading her legs around him. “I like a woman who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to demand it.”
“But?” Her e
yes settled on his rigid cock, and her frustration spiked. Of course, he didn’t want to take the teddy off. It was a physical barrier between them.
He chuckled. “There’s a nice feature to this type of lace, Michelle.”
“What?” What the hell was he talking about?
Devon slid two fingers between the lace crotch and her aching flesh, stroking his knuckles up and down her seam.
“Don’t you dare,” she warned him. The outfit had cost her forty dollars, and while she knew that her father wouldn’t bat an eye at the waste of that much money, her mother had imparted enough frugal lessons to her daughters to make her avoid such destruction.
He yanked the material to one side; Michelle winced, mentally preparing herself for the sound of ripping fabric that never came.
She arched up as his tongue dipped inside her, screaming harshly. This went beyond good; it outstripped every fantasy of a Warrior she’d ever had.
Devon eased back, his breathing buffeting her sensitive tissues. “Lace stretches, Michelle. At least, it does if it has a Lycra base.”
The other outfits she’d purchased coursed through her mind. Most of them included lace panels. Michelle prayed they were the same type of lace.
Her musing was cut short when he went back to his play, his mouth doing glorious things that made thinking impossible. Everything came down to pure sensation, touches and sound, snips of color and smells so powerful they triggered the illusion of taste.
Michelle shattered, her hands tightening on his shoulders as his groan set off aftershocks. Her head spun, and her muscles were heavy in exhaustion.
Devon smoothed the lace over her, shushing her softly when she jerked away from the added sensation. He lay down next to her, stroking his fingertips over her stomach.
She shivered, gasping out a plea for him to stop. Her body was little more than live nerves, raw, powerful, painful even in pleasure.
“Enough for tonight?” he asked.
“Yes.” Michelle felt her face darken in response to his mocking smile.
Devon started to draw the sheets and blankets over them.
That brought the world into focus for her. Sharing his bed wasn’t in the cards.
