The Tomcats Tame the Domme [The Shifters of Catamount, Texas 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Josie Hunter

  “Maybe you deserve my homemade salsa too,” she whispered.

  “Rosie, I’ll take anything you want to feed me.”

  “Really?” She gave him a sultry look, her dark eyes hooded and mysterious. “Anything?”

  “Damn, woman.”

  She slipped her hand into his, wrapping slender fingers around his. “I might have something for you tonight. A second dessert perhaps?”

  Robb laughed. “How fast can you run?”

  “Ah, Tomcat. We mambas never run. You should know from experience we’re far too cool for that. And hasn’t Bobby told you as much?” She gave him a slow, sexy wink. “But we don’t have far to go.”

  She tugged on his hand, and he knew then he’d follow her to the ends of the earth.

  The quiet of Main Street seemed almost unnatural after the delightful screams and excited babble he’d heard on the amusement promenade. A few shifter couples—mostly cats— strolled along the shadowy sidewalks, holding hands and glancing into shop windows, enjoying the tranquility and the warm blanket of moist air hovering over the town. Several men walked in the direction of Clandestine, talking quietly among themselves. When they reached the entrance, they rang the bell tucked near the door. Robb recognized Scott Bennington, an owl-shifter big into bondage, which was very unusual for a bird of prey. Scott was the son of the old-timer who’d been running the dart game at the festival, though luckily, even though Scott was nearing forty, he seemed to be holding up a lot better than his old man. He still had a full tuft of brown hair on his head. His sharp eyes continually panned the darkness, though Robb had no clue what he was searching for.

  When Clandestine’s doorman stepped outside to greet the guests at the door, he spoke quietly to Scott and his friends then moved aside to allow them to enter the club. As he and Rosa strolled closer, Robb nodded to Redwolf. Robb had no trouble recognizing the shifter in the shadowy pool of darkness because the man’s deep russet hair flowed over his shoulders, and in a wolf-shifter, that color was a standout. His size alone, though, would have given him away. Red was a virtual giant. When the owl-shifter and his buddies had disappeared through the door, the big man let the door slide closed. Then Robb saw a spark of amber flicker near the entrance as Red lit a cigarette.

  “Nice night,” Red said as they neared. He lifted his chin in greeting. “Jackson.” He nodded to Rosa. “Ms. Santos, always a pleasure.”

  “Same here, Red.”

  Robb caught the slight lift of her red lips as she smiled at Clandestine’s doorman, and the sultry tone of her voice licked along the edge of Robb’s awareness, reminding him of why he’d chosen to pursue this woman—her charm, her elegance, the power of her sex appeal all mixed together in an undeniably seductive package. The sound of her voice reinforced exactly why he was determined to make this woman his, and he marveled that three small words could affect his body so much. His cock lurched inside his dress pants wanting her body, and instinctually, he sniffed, hoping for even a slight whiff of her sex to prove she was as interested in him as he was in her.

  His eyes nearly rolled back in his head when he smelled the scent of her pussy. It slammed into him like a Texas bull.

  Redwolf gave him a thumbs-up as Robb nearly dropped to his knees.

  “I saw that,” Rosa said.

  “Damn,” Red said, “she’s got keen eyes. Better keep an eye on her, Jackson.”

  Robb glanced at Rosa and gave her a smile. “That, my friend, is not going to be a problem.”

  Her tongue peeked out, skimming her perfect white teeth, and then she licked her lips. Too late he realized his mistake. She was scenting him, and there was no doubt the smell of his pre-cum had reached her.

  “Turnabout’s fair play,” she said softly, her gaze dropping below his belt.

  He heard Redwolf’s hearty laughter behind them as they continued up the street toward the dance studio.

  “No secrets in this town,” Robb muttered.

  “Oh,” Rosa said with a laugh, giving him a sidelong glance, “I can think of one.”

  Damn, he’d given her a bit of leverage when he’d confessed about his relationship with Cougar. Even though he knew she was joking, the idea of the alpha finding out shot a spike of concern through him. He had no idea what Tyler might do, but he didn’t relish finding that out. Shifters putting themselves into dangerous situations created almost impossible-to-contemplate scenarios in which all of their secrets could be revealed. Extreme stress, duress, and torture could turn the most resolute shifter into his animal counterpart, resulting in something the shifter community in general remained adamantly opposed to—exposure. True, many types of shifters made excellent soldiers because of their stamina, strength, and general fearlessness, but with those abilities came the double-edged sword of risking everyone’s security.

  Nope. Tyler would not be pleased.

  Robb paused and turned slightly. “And that secret…” He gave her one of his pseudo-stern looks, the kind he usually gave to Bobby when he wanted to clarify a point. “That one follows us to the grave.”

  “Sí, Tomcat,” she said seriously, putting her hand on the swell of her breast. “Cross my heart. We will take it to the grave.” She tilted her head and gave him a smile.

  Another spike of concern shot through him, though this one felt different. Talking about graves seemed dangerous. Menacing. Downright ominous. He’d started to reach for her, though he wasn’t sure why, when she said lightly, “Hopefully that will not be soon.”

  The sound of her laughter broke whatever omen had gripped him in its talons.

  She gestured to the right. “We’re here.”

  They stood in front of Catamount Dance Company, near a narrow entrance tucked at the side. The bright red door gleamed in the glow of the streetlamp, which revealed a bright brass doorknocker, a mail slot, and a small window with a gauzy curtain.

  “Home sweet home,” Rosa said softly. “Would you like to come up?”

  “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”

  She withdrew a key from her small black clutch, inserted it into two separate locks, and then pushed open the door. The small foyer immediately brightened as a light clicked on and shone from the top of the staircase. She’d taken the first step when the sound of classical music filled the small space. Rosa flipped open her purse and withdrew her phone.

  “It’s probably Carly. We have plans tomorrow.” She hit a button then put her hand over the phone. “Why don’t you go on up and open some wine? I’ll just be a second.”

  He nodded and started climbing the stairs.

  “Hola, chica! Isn’t it kind of late—”

  Her words ended abruptly on a gasp. Robb glanced down from the landing. Rosa looked to be holding her breath, but then, as he moved down one stair, she released it.

  “Sí…hello.”

  She looked to be breathing now so he took the last few stairs and stepped into her apartment to give her some privacy. He was met with a charming open-air apartment decorated in white and beige with soft ocean-colored accents. Her overstuffed sofa and armchair had been covered in thick, quilted slipcovers, and throw pillows in various shades of teal, turquoise, and green had been tossed on both. The dark hardwood floors gleamed, and the few pieces of furniture beyond accessory tables—a desk, china cabinet, and small dining table—were all a bleached-blond wood. A gleaming golden and teal crystal chandelier hung over the table, and soft light came from matching sconces on the walls. Gauzy teal curtains, held back by crystal ties, draped the entire front glass wall of the apartment.

  The room had a bright, airy, romantic feel, like a daydream at the beach. It seemed the exact opposite of his sultry serpent-shifter, and he found it very endearing. He felt like he’d entered her private sanctuary, a place she kept to herself. He also felt as though he had taken a step back in time.

  The plasma TV and all-in-one iMac were the only concessions to the modern world in her living space until he pushed open the swinging door into th
e kitchen. There he was met with a clash of the past and future. Gleaming, high-tech appliances vied for space with pieces of old-world charm and splashes of her Hispanic heritage. Rows of pottery and colorful dishes filled her open-faced cabinets, and ceramic figures of animals lined shelves beneath a row of windows. He saw a snake, a collection of cougars, and even one that looked to be a mongoose. It seemed Rosa had her own personal pride menagerie.

  He grabbed a bottle of wine, a couple glasses, and a corkscrew. After he’d placed them on the table, he headed back to the stairwell. He stepped down to the landing because he could still hear Rosa’s voice coming from below, but the tone had changed. And it was certain now she wasn’t happy with the caller.

  “No. You don’t understand. I don’t want—”

  She closed her eyes, chewed on her lower lip, and then leaned back against the wall. She looked pale in the light of the foyer. He was ready to barrel down the stairs to find out what had happened when she spoke again.

  “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea at all.”

  She glanced up the stairs and met his eyes. Her eyes were round, filled with something he couldn’t even fathom. Who the hell was on the phone? Robb had a sudden desire to put his hands around the caller’s throat and choke them senseless for putting that look on her face. If he’d thought she looked green and queasy on the pirate ship, this call had pushed her right into downright sick.

  “Rosie, is everything—”

  She waved her hand at him and turned her back. Dismissal. Or embarrassment. Whatever it was, he wasn’t happy with it. He stepped down another two steps.

  “No, I can’t possibly, not after Juan, not after… No, she left for a reason, and I have no desire to hear your side of that… I said no!”

  That did it. Robb practically jumped down the staircase. When he reached her, he grabbed the phone from her hand. Rosa didn’t fight him. When the phone left her hand, she slumped onto the bottom step and put her head in her hands.

  “All right, you son of a bitch,” he growled into the phone. “I’m telling you now, I’m not fucking happy with this damn phone call. Who the hell is this?”

  He punched the button for speakerphone.

  The voice on the other end of the phone—a cultured voice draped in a Hispanic accent—very softly said, “My name is Esteban Santos.” Robb’s stomach twisted, and he glanced toward Rosa just as she looked up. His gut kicked him even harder when he saw tears falling from her eyes. Whoever this was, he was family, but someone Rosa had no desire to see. The situation must have been bad, and yet, the voice continued making it worse. “I’m Rosa’s father.”

  The bottom seemed to drop out of his world, so he couldn’t imagine how Rosa was feeling.

  “Rosa’s father,” he repeated. That made no sense. Wasn’t Rosa an orphan? Lucia had practically raised the girl when Rosa’s mother died. If she’d had a father all these years…

  “Rosa, is it true?” He held the phone up, staring at it. “Is this your father?”

  She bit into her luscious lip as she nodded imperceptibly.

  “May I speak to my daughter again please?”

  Rosa shook her head violently. “I don’t want to talk to him,” she whispered.

  “But if he’s your father…”

  She held up her hands, and in that moment, she looked like a vulnerable, frightened girl, unable to face her worst fear.

  “Rosa, mi querida, if you will only listen.”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  “Sir,” Santos said, “whoever is on the other end of this call, may I have your name, señor?” His question hung in the air. All Robb wanted to do was crunch the phone beneath his shoe and make this cool, suave stranger—this absentee father—vanish into thin air. That look on Rosa’s face made talking to the man almost impossible. He didn’t know what had happened between them, or why Rosa seemed so adamant about keeping him out of her life, but none of that mattered. If Rosa felt that way, Robb was on her side.

  Robb knew anything he said would be too much information, but there was no harm in a name. He needed the man to know Rosa had a champion if need be.

  “Jackson. My name is Robb Jackson. And Rosa doesn’t want to talk to you, Señor Santos.”

  “Understandable,” the man said quite calmly. “We have had little contact in our lives, but it is imperative I speak with her. On a matter of personal urgency.”

  Rosa scrubbed her hands over her face, still shaking her head. A single tear ran down her slender cheek, and Robb’s heart nearly broke.

  “Out of the question,” Robb said.

  The voice became firmer, even more controlled if possible, and Robb felt the bite behind the words. “I hardly believe that is your decision to make, Señor Jackson.”

  Rosa pressed her lips together.

  “And I’m not making it, Señor Santos. Your daughter has her own mind, and she’s using it right now to make her own decisions.”

  When the man spoke next, Robb heard a bit of petulance. “If she understood my problem, if she’d only speak with me…”

  Rosa leapt to her feet. “I told you no!” she shouted into the phone. “I don’t care what your problems are.”

  “Rosa, mi hija, you’re holding me responsible for Juan’s failings, and—”

  “He was your son! He was your failure!”

  “But my poor boy always had problems.”

  “Problems?” She laughed bitterly, raking her hair back from her face. “He was a psychopath.”

  “Oh, so jaded. What did that woman do to you, mi hija?”

  “Leave my mother out of this and don’t call me that,” she growled. “I have never been your daughter.”

  “You were taken from me, mi querida niña. You will always be my daughter,” he said softly. “And I will always love you.”

  Rosa choked back a sob. “Oh, no, that’s not possible, and I don’t believe you. Please…just go away.” She took a step backward, shaking visibly. “Just go away!” She lurched forward, stabbing at the phone with her finger. The call died.

  She stared at him for a moment, her eyes wild and dark and filled with something he couldn’t fathom. She grabbed his hand and dragged him up the stairs.

  And he let her.

  Chapter 5

  When they reached the top of the stairs, she herded him backward, her long, lithe body rubbing sensuously against his as she pushed him toward the sofa. She put her palms on his chest and shoved him. He sprawled on the white cushions, and she fell on top of him, her lips searching for his desperately. Her breath was hot against his skin, and her warm, wet mouth claimed his in a brutal kiss. She climbed up his body until she was straddling him, leaning over his body like a dark succubus, so beautiful and almost terrifying in her power.

  He felt her hands moving across his chest, and before he knew what she’d done, she yanked his shirt open. Buttons scattered into the air then skittered across the wooden floor. She leaned back then moved toward him again, pressing her nose against his lower belly then licking a trail up his stomach and chest, catching his scent and committing it to memory. He knew a female mamba-shifter’s patterns, and this was the first step to mating. She pressed her face into the hollow between his neck and shoulder and kissed a path up the side of his face, her hair slithering over his bare skin in tendrils of silk. Then she took his face in her hands. The dark cocoon of her hair fell around them as she stared into his eyes, her gaze filled with a deep emotion he couldn’t identify. Desire, agony, heartache, fury… All of it seemed to blend together in the depths of her brown eyes, burning him from the outside in.

  “We’re going to fuck, Tomcat. Do you have a problem with that?”

  Her words caused his dick to throb against his zipper.

  “No problem at all, Rosie.”

  She lifted up and yanked her sundress over her head. It landed as a cranberry pool when she tossed it to the floor. He stared at her glorious body, slender yet curvy, slim yet powerful, the muscles of her thi
ghs gripping his hips, her arms stretched above her head as she arched backward. Her breasts thrust outward, perfectly shaped, perfectly sized, their nipples dark rosy tips he wanted to hold between his lips and nip at with his teeth.

  No longer able to resist, he touched her jaw and let his finger slide down over her throat, across the crisp line of her collarbones and over the swell of her breast until he reached the nipple, achingly firm and ripe. He pinched it between his fingers, and she inhaled a deep breath then released it in a soft sigh. She lowered her arms and let her head roll on her shoulders, her hair sweeping behind her.

  He continued his exploration of her body, his finger caressing in a line down her flat stomach, her core strong and muscular from dancing and workouts. When he reached the bit of lace stretched over her pussy, he let his finger slide down between the lips to stroke her clit gently. She lifted up slightly to give him better access, and he slid his hand between her legs, finding out the scrap of lace was a thong when he felt the firm skin of her ass.

  Her smell—musky, heady, impossible to resist—enveloped him in an explosion of scents, filling his nostrils then his head with a need for more. The panther inside gave a dark rumbling purr as it prowled restlessly, wanting to sink into the heat of the woman, wanting to take, give, dominate, submit. His inner animal had never felt a need this intense for any woman, not even years before when Robb had fallen in love with another powerful serpent-shifter. This woman, this dark, seductive, and sexy creature under his hands, had him completely ensnared in a hypnotic spell. Rosa Santos. Her name alone made his cock harden painfully.

  He gripped her hips, lifted his head, and then pulled her toward him. She arched her back, leaning back to anchor herself against his thighs when he slipped his hands under her ass and lifted her pussy to his waiting mouth. He buried his face against her, breathing deeply and memorizing her scent, her feel, and her taste, when he slid his tongue over the thong then locked his lips on her lace-covered clit.

  Rosa moaned and shuddered each time he sucked on her clit. When her body began to vibrate, he sucked harder, gripping her ass tighter, pulling her more closely to him, inhaling the scent of pussy, of perfume, of Rosa’s delicate skin. He felt her clit swell under his lips, and the heat of her desire nearly burned him. She quivered, and her hands tightened on his thighs. With one last suck from him, she came apart, her entire body clenching and convulsing as she came. Her scent and moisture bathed his tongue.