by PJ Schnyder
Control back, he entered her again, hard and fast.
“Ah!”
He froze, waiting for her ragged breathing to steady, ready to stop if she asked. But she wrapped her legs around him, running her heel along the back of his thigh in an unspoken request.
God, it felt so good to be inside her. He found a rhythm in time with the tiny mews of pleasure escaping her throat. He reared up over her, grasping a full breast with one hand, using the other to pull her hips to him in an even closer fit. She tightened around him in response and he almost lost it again.
Slowing, he pulled out again, kissing his way down her body, determined to bring her with him when he came. He wanted to give her every pleasure he knew how to give, one right after the other, to show her how good it could be. When he looked down at her, her expression remained clear, composed.
He wanted her wild.
He pressed his fingers against her clit, stimulating her with firm, circular strokes. She threw back her head in response, back arching, hands fisting the bedcovers. “I want you to come for me, sweetness.”
She didn’t answer, not with words, but the sounds she made were enough. He increased the pressure, the friction, until she whimpered. He couldn’t stay away any longer, not after watching her writhe under his touch. She was close. Climbing between her legs, he entered her so fast they both called out.
He stroked in and out of her once, twice, and then flipped her legs over his arms. This time, he didn’t wait for her to coax him. He thrust into her fast and hard, feeling her convulse under him, rising to her orgasm. Her hands grasped at his sweat-slicked back, fingers curling.
“Yeah…” Close, so close.
“Yes! Please!” she answered, her face buried in his shoulder. Her fingers dug into him, her entire body convulsing.
Her inner muscles milked him, pushing him over the edge. One more thrust and he came inside her in a hot rush of pleasure.
Chapter Four
“How long has it been since you’ve been held?”
Nestled in the curve of his arms, her head pillowed against his biceps, Kaitlyn looked up into Rygard’s sleepy face. Relaxed and sated, his gaze still simmered with desire. Had she ever felt so wanted before?
“Years.” Simple answer. Even then, she didn’t dare tell him she’d never been held like this. No one had ever lain with her, wrapped in a cocoon of intimacy. Not Katzer, not anyone. She could stay right there, snuggled against Rygard’s chest, listening to his strong, steady heartbeat until she fell asleep.
And she’d never trusted anyone to watch over her sleep. Not even her captain.
He sighed against her hair, one hand gently brushing a strand away from her cheek. “Why so long, so alone?”
His expression shifted, suddenly vulnerable. She saw it in the twist of his lips and the set of his jaw. It seemed as if the next words she spoke would shatter him.
He was a soldier, had to be hardened to have made officer. Too old to be commissioned straight out of the Academy, he would have worked his way up through the enlisted ranks instead. He’d have seen his share of what combat could do to a person.
A discreet alarm chimed, somewhere in the direction of his discarded uniform.
He heaved another sigh. “I have to report back in.”
She sat up, the sheet clutched to her chest. She didn’t know what to say.
Still naked, he stood, a wicked grin playing across his lips. “Going to remember what you see?”
An answering smile pulled at her mouth. Unable to do anything else, she watched him, all sculpted and deliciously built. Definitely worth remembering, and she had a photographic memory.
His cock began to swell as she continued her heated study. He shook his head and stepped into his uniform, jerking it up his legs to his waist, careful to tuck himself into his pants. “I have to go.”
She nodded.
Fighting some inner temper, he shoved his arms into the sleeves and yanked the uniform around his sculpted chest. Looking at her, his eyes softened. “I don’t do this.”
“This?” She whispered the question. She knew, but didn’t at the same time.
“This.” He stepped toward her, leaning forward and taking a soft kiss. When he drew back, he rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip, his forefinger under her chin. “This is temporary.”
It sucked to hear, but she wasn’t stupid. Without words again, she focused on fastening his uniform into place, hiding all of his fantastically scrumptious physique.
He laughed softly. “No girl’s ever dressed me before.” A pause, then his voice changed, saturated with emotion. “Are you trying to keep me?”
She risked a quick glance up through her lashes to his face, then dragged her gaze back to his uniform. She wanted what she saw there far too much, and neither of them could afford it. “I didn’t know that was even allowed.”
He stepped away, awkward silence hanging in the air. His attention fell on the small comp from Boggle. Idly, probably for something to do with his hands, he picked it up and activated it. She moved to take it from him, but held back. She didn’t have anything to hide.
“More tech.” His voice returned to a light, airy tone. Then he started to read the display.
Brows drew together and his mouth thinned to a strained line. The muscles across his shoulders and in his neck tensed, hardened. He didn’t simply pull away, light years of distance opened up between them.
He waved the comp at her. “You had a background check run on me?”
She shook her head, hair tumbling loose around her shoulders. “A friend sent it to me with the jammer. He must have thought I should know.”
“Doubt it. You must have had a great time bagging this stud.”
“Look.” Not sure the background check rated this much anger, she watched him warily. “I don’t do this either.”
“Oh, c’mon. A merc, looking the way you do? A ‘friend’ sends you packages by personal messenger with a background check on your guy for the night? You’ve obviously got your choice of ‘friends.’ Maybe I’m just the new flavor.”
She almost laughed in his face. “What is your malfunction?”
Suspicious because Boggle sent her a package. Seriously?
That look crossed Rygard’s face again, open and bleeding. “A sweet face like yours, too innocent to believe. You’re the perfect trap.” Then the expression hardened. “I got news for you, I don’t have the cred to make this worth your while, and with your performance, I wouldn’t pay for a repeat.”
The bolt of pain piercing her chest caught her by surprise. He made her feel cheap, something less. The memory of a collar sat around her neck, a phantom weight. She dropped her gaze to the bedsheets, giving way to another being’s dominance for the first time since her mutation. Not even rape had broken her the way his words had. Fumbling for her duffel at the side of the bed, she yanked a silken sleep shirt over her head, unable to bear the exposure any longer.
“Maybe I should send one of the other guys from the bar to keep you company for the rest of the night.”
Jackass.
She opened her mouth to retort.
The entryway exploded. Literally.
Anything she would have said blanked as she dove for her weapons harness. Rygard beat her to it, tossing it to her as he grabbed his own. Not bothering to put his on, he freed his gun and crouched ready to fire, his body firmly between her and whatever would come through the door.
“Murderer.” A deep voice, not human, snarled through the smoke. A tail lashed into view and withdrew, the owner using the wall as cover. The scent of felines billowed into the room.
A heartbeat passed, then two.
“I haven’t killed anybody in at least three months.” Kaitlyn freed every blade she had, laying them within easy reach on the bed and floor, keeping her big combat knife beside her. “You?”
Rygard’s silence was eloquent.
“So we’re guessing they’re here for you, then.” Fantastic. She’
d have to remember to look over Boggle’s intel a little closer.
“They?” Rygard grunted as he used one hand to yank down the dresser unit for cover. He couldn’t pick apart the different scents entering the room.
As far as she was concerned, he’d have to take her word for it because there wasn’t time to explain. “Three, incoming.”
A strange huffing cough issued from around the corner. It wasn’t because of the clearing smoke. Only jaguars made the sound, confirming her read of what headed toward them. This wouldn’t be a conventional fight.
She grabbed her combat knife and took the handle in her teeth. She’d need it.
“Down.” The word came clear through her clenched teeth, her voice dropping deep, already changing. Rygard responded, turning to put his back to the dresser. His eyes widened.
She shifted.
One second stretched into an eternity as every nerve in her body blazed. Her body reabsorbed bones and reformed them, muscle tissue twisting and reshaping, tendons detaching and reattaching in new configurations. Her face stretched forward into a muzzle, jaw dislocating and lengthening to make room for fangs. Her hands curled in agony, becoming paws with razor-sharp claws. What had taken weeks of agony the first time the virus mutated her now lasted a mere second as she forced her shift from girl to panther—the pain concentrated into undiluted hell.
She panted.
In this form, thought processes tended to be simpler, more focused as she let the cat instincts move to the fore.
Time jumped forward again. Her opponent came leaping through smoke, over the dresser and Rygard. She met him head-on. Midair, she planted her forelegs against the inside of his shoulders. The jaguar was bigger than her. He had broader shoulders with a heavier head and stronger jaws. She had speed and a combat knife clenched in her teeth. When they parted from the first clash, she left the jaguar’s shoulder laid open to the bone.
The big cat hesitated.
Kaitlyn didn’t.
She slashed the jaguar again then dropped the knife as she slammed into him shoulder to shoulder. Twisting to avoid his slashing hind paws, she went for the hold. She had him, a kill grip directly behind the skull.
Her favorite hold. She could crush a man’s skull from that angle with her jaws. She might not be able to crush the jaguar’s, but he’d still be dead.
“Arteq, ganna kei al!”
Kaitlyn guessed the shout included a name. Rygard turned his back on them, pointing his gun at the entryway and the speaker. To give the man credit, he hadn’t frozen at seeing the woman he recently bedded turn into a big black cat. She’d have been inclined to give him credit for his combat reactions, but he’d been an ass earlier and they weren’t out of this yet.
Forget it. His cred was in the red. He’d brought the damn predators to her door.
“Who are you?” Okay. She’d give Rygard points for making the question very, very intimidating.
“We come on Blood Hunt.” The voice spoke Standard, but didn’t sound human. She twitched an ear, the taste of the jaguar’s blood in her mouth. Blood tasted good.
“Explain.” Rygard still managed scary just fine.
A feline growl and a tail lashed into view again. “Murderer. You and your men came into our pride lands, shot our kindred, stole their young. You will all pay.”
Shit.
Blood on her tongue and skin under her teeth, she slid closer to cat.
They came here for a reason. She wasn’t a part of it. Her opponent no longer a danger. Not dead, but not conscious. She would give him back. They should go away.
Dragging the jaguar between her forelegs, she moved past Rygard, around the dresser and into the open. Dropping her burden short of the entryway, she backed away cautiously.
Rygard knelt at her back.
“Arteq!” A humanoid crouched over the jaguar. The musk identified it as male. Feline, but not. Snarling, the strange male pointed a weapon at her.
She bared her teeth and hissed.
“Don’t!” Rygard snapped. He issued a warning shot from his gun, short of jaguar and humanoid.
An answering shot came from the entryway, hitting the dresser directly between Kaitlyn and Rygard.
Kaitlyn streaked around the dresser for cover, curling next to Rygard. Growling, she forced her shift back.
“Hold.” A new voice spoke, with a quality Kaitlyn recognized even as she panted through the changes. So dominant, every word held power.
Alpha.
She gritted her teeth, every muscle ripping and tearing, melding back into the human her. It took effort to finish her change instead of halting midshift in response to the command.
“L’akesha, ah shu deya. We bear no ill toward the female.”
Wasn’t that just dandy?
“They might let you go,” Rygard murmured, his weapon trained on the intruders.
She wouldn’t leave Rygard. Outnumbered, to the man and to the species, he didn’t have a chance. Besides, how slow could station security be? No way a hotel like this didn’t have alarms.
God damn it! The jammer.
And her fault the cavalry wasn’t going to arrive in time to save either of them.
“The female, have her come to us. We will question her and let her pass unharmed.”
“Why question her?” Rygard called out.
“She is not what she seems.”
She snagged her uniform, struggling into it as they talked. She glared at Rygard. “What is it with all of you deciding I’m some sort of deceptive tramp?”
He winced.
“She bested Arteq, kindred.”
Temper boiled up inside. “Hell, I gave him back.”
“Shut up, sweetness.” Rygard said it quietly, for her.
“She is called Sweetness?” Obviously, they had hearing on par with hers.
Silence. She shrugged at Rygard. Collecting her knives, she began plotting the best way to get to the nightstand and deactivate the jammer.
“We hold fire. You hold fire. We will face each other and speak.”
Not a request, but better than a shoot-out in the close quarters of the room again. Exchanging looks with Rygard, she nodded. They stood, slowly, ready to take cover and strike back if it turned out to be a ruse.
Two alien males stood at the entryway, in the open. They were large. The first stood taller than Rygard but rangier. The second, the dominant, every bit as heavily built, loomed even taller. He filled the space around him with the sheer force of his presence.
Behind them, the jaguar lay still, its chest rising and falling as it panted.
The dominant inhaled slowly, scenting the air.
When he spoke, he directed his words to Rygard. “Your scent is one of the trails we hunt. Blood hunt.”
He didn’t answer.
The alien’s topaz stare fastened on her, the force of it slamming into her as tangible as any physical blow. Still her gaze didn’t falter under the weight. “You are…new.”
“Yes.” She didn’t bother to hide the real growl in her voice. The sound couldn’t come from a human woman.
“He is your mate?” The question hung in the air.
“No.”
A pause. She smelled the embarrassment off Rygard, which meant they could too. Served him right.
But damn, she wouldn’t leave him hanging on his own.
“He is my companion, for tonight.” It killed her to say it, made her feel even more like a slut. “And he was about to leave.”
Rygard’s jaw clenched.
The smaller one sneered. “A female chooses?”
A clawed hand lashed out and the lesser male bled from his nose.
“A dominant female is a rarity, cherished among our kind.” The alpha’s focus shifted to Rygard. “A male, dominant enough to match her, is respected.”
Well now, wasn’t that interesting?
“Why? Out of respect for the female, we will not kill you without understanding. I will ask you why, human.”
&nb
sp; More questions and thankfully, not in regards to bedding her. She changed weight to the other foot, intent on the secondary male. He stood with shoulders hunched, spine slumped. She could take him. He bared his teeth at her but his scent, acrid and pungent, gave him away. He feared her.
Rygard surprised her by answering, rolling his shoulders. “We didn’t know. Me and my men, we didn’t know.” He looked to her, then to the alien. He had no trouble meeting the other male’s gaze. “We were on a reconnaissance mission on your planet. Commanding officer issued new orders to pick up a package on the return to the landing shuttle. It’s happened the last couple of missions in the sector. Anyone disobeying orders ended up with shit assignments, the kind that get you killed. The adult cats were already dead when I arrived. I only collected the package.”
“Cubs,” the secondary male screeched. “You stole kindred cubs!”
The air sharpened with the bitterness of Rygard’s shame, his guilt.
He teetered on the edge of action, a step away from doing something stupid.
“We’ll get them back for you.” All eyes turned to her. She looked at Rygard. “We can. They’re alive.”
They’d taken the cubs alive for a reason. A huge black market existed for pets. She should know, she’d been one. There must be one on station. Her lip curled at the thought, red haze edging her vision.
She turned to the dominant male. “If we return the cubs, he and his go free. They were following orders.”
“And this commanding officer?” The male sounded intrigued, but Kaitlyn wasn’t fooled. Raging fury waited, banked in those eyes, his scent sharp with anger. The strength of his dominance pushed at her—invisible, intangible but very real.
Kaitlyn shrugged. “I don’t know him.”
And it would be the man’s death proclamation.
The alien’s gaze bored into her. Stubborn, she met him, fighting the urge to look down. She’d done it once today. She wouldn’t give another idiot male the advantage.
She’d feel guilty about the CO’s death, probably. But saving Rygard’s ass, and his men, had a more generous helping of her concern. She understood the trials of obligation in following the orders of a rotten commander.
