“She was primed and ready to go,” he told her again. “But then she started asking me about the cigarettes. The cigarettes that Ivan gets are dipped or stuffed with some kind of special tobacco. I don’t know but it has the weirdest effect on us. Can’t remember shit if you smoke too much. So the girl was asking me about them. Ivan disappeared, and she wouldn’t shut up about it so I shut her up.”
“I think you still got some of that smoke in you.” She shook her head.
“Nope, she tried to dig in my pockets looking for the one I hadn’t finished yet. I told her plenty of times not to do that and the last time, my teeth came out. Sliced into her throat. My claws came out, jabbed her in the ribs. Tore her inside out,” he replied matter-of-factly.
“There was certainly a woman inside out, but there ain’t a drop of her blood on you or in this apartment anywhere. I would smell it!” Raven sighed. “Maybe Alan and the others are right about you. You’re just dreaming it, or maybe it was Ivan who did it. You think that’s why there’s no blood or any scent of that woman on you?”
“I don’t know.” He tried to shrug. When he realized she still had him pinned, he gazed up at her and then down to her short shorts. “Umm, if you’re not going to let me make you cum, and you’re not going to do anything while you’re up there straddling my cock, how about you get off me?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” Raven said. “It’s certainly something about you, Conan. You’ve got me more distracted than I’ve ever been.”
She got off him and sat beside him in his room that reminded her of home.
“Well, I'm glad you loosened up a bit. Certainly better than cranberry soda right?” He laughed a bit standing up. But as soon as he stood he sat back down.
“Yeah, you're definitely out of it. This conversation isn't going anywhere. I'm tired and you're still loopy. How about a shower?” she offered.
“You going to join me?”
“I’ll help you get in but a cold shower will do you and me a whole lot of good. I’d much rather talk to you sober or something like it. Because this right here,” she motioned to the space between them, “doesn’t work for me and what doesn’t work for me usually ends in a way the other person doesn’t agree with.”
“Fine, I’ll take a shower and you have to get in with me if you want me to answer all your questions.” He grinned seductively.
Images of them in the throes of passion, splashing under the water of his shower, enticed her and scared her all at once. She wondered what having a mate would be like. Conan was the nail that cracked through her hardened demeanor. He was beginning to reveal a piece of her she never wanted to admit was there. But in that moment, she had a job to do. And that job was to get to the bottom of what was going on with the Barstow pack.
Conan sauntered toward the hidden door, leaning his forearm against the wall while he fumbled with the handle. Raven walked over to help him out, only to have him bend down toward her shoulder. Sniffing her hair and palming her ass, he pushed Raven against the wall. “You smell fantastic. I could lick you from head to toe right now. Will you let me?”
“I’ll let you do whatever you want to me when you’re sober and can remember that I’m not one of your party favors. I’m not primed and ready to go, Conan. Come on,” she said, finally getting the door open. With a soft growl, Conan followed her into his closet through to the bedroom.
“I need a drink,” Conan mumbled.
“Nope! No!” Raven protested, pulling him closer to the bed. “We’re taking a shower together, remember?”
“You’re lying to me.” He sang with a smile.
“You’re still out of it,” she said, fighting his grabby hands on their way to the bathroom.
The water was ice cold, so cold it made Raven’s chest tighten as she inhaled the mist.
“I’m not getting in that,” Conan told her, with a wry gaze.
“You’re going to have to in order for us to have a real conversation about what happened tonight. Please don’t make me put you in here. I’m an Enforcer and I don’t want to use that strength to destroy your bathroom,” she warned.
“You’re stronger than me?” Conan asked, cocking his head to the side.
“I was bred to be,” she answered, with confidence. “Plus, my training allows my smaller size to be an advantage. I'm stronger than the majority of our brethren.”
“You don’t have to brag, but I just might put you to the test because I’m not getting in that cold ass water. Let’s go back to my cave. That hot tub is far more enchanting than that.” He scowled.
“Come on! Conan, go!” Raven commanded.
He smiled, his eyes low, shaking his head. “No.”
“You’re really going to make me show you that I’m stronger than you, aren’t you?”
Conan shrugged, backing out of the bathroom slowly. Raven didn’t let him get far, taking a few quick steps, she was face to face with him, gripping him by the boxers. He eyed her, testing her, and while she hated to be baited, she refused to back down.
He went to grab her but her hands were faster than he anticipated as she threw her arms up inside his grasp, knocking him away. Her palms pressed flat against his chest, shoving him back onto the bed.
“I’m on the bed and not in that cold shower.” He shrugged.
Raven’s eye glimmered as she went into Enforcer mode. She’d taken down larger men than Conan but she’d never tested his wolf before. This was going to be interesting as she crouched down in front of him. The swipe of her tongue over her lips made them glisten in the soft light.
“Oh, that’s not going to get me in that shower, but I’ll take it if you’re giving i-”
Raven knew exactly where Conan’s head was at. Laughing to herself, she eased herself around his thighs and before he had a chance to realize what she was doing, she scooped his legs into her arms. Anchoring her heels against the floor, she pulled hard and dragged Conan off the bed. With a mild yelp and a thud, he landed on the floor. With surprise bursting through his eyes, he flexed the muscles in his legs, wrapped his ankles around her core and pulled her down on top of him.
“You are strong.” He leered. “But I like it better when we’re like this.”
Raven planted her hands on the floor and pushed up, only to be held in place by Conan’s grip around her waist.
“You’re going to have to do a bit more than that to get out of this grip. I am not getting in that shower.” He chuckled.
Raven took matters even further as she moved one hand from the floor to his crotch. Conan bit his bottom lip and his eyes rolled back as her fingers wrapped around his cock. Hardening immediately, he hissed. “That’s not fair.”
“Oh, yeah? Why not?” she asked, as she began to rub his burgeoning erection through the boxers.
“Because you wouldn’t let me do that to you.” He smirked.
“I will, if you let me put you in the shower.” She grinned back at him. “Don’t distract me. We still have a lot to talk about.”
“We can talk about whatever you want as long as you keep that hand exactly where it is,” he implored her.
Raven rubbed his erection a little harder before releasing him completely from his boxers. Her eyes never left his as she moved her fingertips over the head. Conan released his grip around her waist, slightly thrusting his hips toward her.
“I can do this all night, but what I won't do is touch this with any other part of my body until we finish talking about the girl. I'm going to go and come back when you're sober,” Raven told him, immediately pulling her hand off him and pushing herself up to her feet. She left her shorts exactly as they were, showing the soft imprint of her pussy. Turning around, she let him see her perky backside, peeking out just enough from the bottom of the leather. She turned back to face him, adjusted her clothes and cleavage, tossed her blonde hair behind her. “Make no mistake about this Conan...if I find out that you are indeed responsible for what's going on out there, I will do my job without prejudice. I d
on't care how hot you are or how big your cock is.”
She walked away from him, toward the door just in time to hear him mutter, “Shit, now I need to take that damn cold shower.”
Chapter Six
Raven’s heart thumped against her chest as she pressed herself against the wall outside Conan’s door. She couldn’t believe how much she was letting this situation get out of hand. Her emotions were all over the place. Her sex drive was through the roof. If Conan weren’t the reason she’d come to The Barstow, then she’d gladly give herself to him…over and over again.
“Hey, what are you doing out here?” Michy asked, getting off the elevator.
“Just heading in actually, and I found Conan. You can call Devon and the others. No need to keep scouring the city looking for him,” she told her.
“And?”
Raven shook her head. “If he did anything to anyone, there wasn’t any evidence of that anywhere on him or in his condo.”
“So no blood?” Michy asked, with half excitement in her voice. “No random strands of hair or flesh. Did he smell like the girl?”
“No. If he did, I would have certainly done my job and been out of here. I do have a question though. He’s still out of it. Those cigarettes we smoked, that’s different than my regular pack. What’s in them?” she asked Michy.
“You’d have to ask Ivan that.” She shrugged. “Trade secret, maybe? I’m not too sure, to be honest. But even if they’re regular, you see what they do to regular humans, can you imagine what they’re doing to us?”
“I’m in no mood to be preached to. I don’t care what anyone thinks. I do what I want whenever I want, and if I want to inhale the sweet aroma of success in that way, then that’s what I’ll do. What I am in the mood for is a bit of adventure,” Raven said, with a twinkle in her eye.
“An adventure?” Michy’s face twisted in confusion.
“Yes, an adventure. Show me where Ivan lives,” Raven demanded.
Michy’s confusion changed to apprehension. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want to make things harder for Conan, or anyone who uses his services in our club.”
“Is Alan aware of what Ivan is doing in his club?”
“I don’t know, you’d have to ask him that,” she replied defensively.
Raven knew that tone. It happened whenever pack members realized she was, and always would be, an Enforcer. She liked Michy. In a different life, she would like nothing more than for them to actually be friends, but she’d wasted enough time partying and adapting to the pack. It was time to work.
“Take me to him,” Raven told her definitively.
“To who? Alan?” she gazed toward his condo door.
“No, to Ivan. I have some questions about his product. I don’t like how they made me feel and I’ve smoked before. Never got those results. Take me to him now,” she insisted.
“But, it’s late,” Michy told her.
“Does it look like I care? Listen, you can help me or you can try to deflect and get me on a different path. It won’t work. As a matter of fact, it’ll waste my time and I despise having my time wasted. The faster I figure out what’s going on the faster I’ll be out of everyone’s hair and you should want that. If I find Ivan on my own, you won’t have as much to report back to Shana and Alan with,” she reasoned.
Michy’s defiance deflated, and in agreement. “Fine. Do you want to change first, or are you going to stay in that?”
Raven took a quick glance down at her clothes and headed to Michy's place to change.
Wearing her own clothes, combat kink, as the majority in the Barstow liked to call it, she felt comfortable as they rode in a cab to the other side of town. The building they arrived at mimicked the one they’d just left. It was eerie, sending a chill down Raven’s spine.
“This…looks…familiar,” she mumbled as her eyes darted both ways, up and down the sidewalk.
“It should,” Michy replied. “Ivan wants to be a Barstow so bad, it’s pathetic.”
Raven hadn't any idea how true that statement was until they walked toward the front entrance of the building. A simple slate stone with a shimmering black placard, read: THE GRANT.
Shaking her head, she watched as Michy walked up to the double doors and pushed a button. A tall, slender man opened the door. He was dressed in a three-piece suit wearing coattails. A raised eyebrow greeted them as he stepped outside, blocking them from coming in. Raven inhaled deep, his wolf was old, not a threat to her, or anyone else for that matter.
“Martine the Enforcer here on behalf of the Council,” Raven announced authoritatively. She let her fangs protrude just enough to show the old man that she’d change and do some damage if need be.
“Here to see whom?” he asked with a long, deep tone.
“Ivan,” Michy answered, placing her hand on Raven’s wrist to calm her down. “She just needs to ask him a few questions about a member of our pack. She’ll be quick.”
Raven eyed Michy wearily. She didn’t like when people spoke for her. It wasn’t necessary, but being that this was an unfamiliar city, her disadvantage was apparent. Her nerves were steady as steel as she waited for the slender man in coattails to make up his mind. Just as she began to figure out ways to disarm and remove him from his post, he stepped aside and opened the door wide for them to enter.
The inside of the building was almost a replica of The Barstow. From its soft red hues to the similarly styled furniture, it made Raven pay close attention to everything going on around her. The only difference between The Grant and The Barstow…no humans. The Grant was strictly occupied by their kind. There weren't any other species present and her senses weren't nearly as overwhelmed as when she first entered The Barstow.
The gentleman, who let them into the building, escorted them toward a private elevator, which took Raven and Michy up to the penthouse suite. There weren’t several spaces, only one. The doors opened into the condo that had a very similar view of the cityscape as Alan’s.
Raven took a deep breath as three women approached them. Each one had hair, blacker than night, dripping down below their waists. Their faces, mannerisms, all held an aura very reminiscent of Shana. When Ivan emerged, he wore satin pants letting them hang ever so delicately off his body. If his cock were completely flaccid, Raven was certain they would fall down.
“Good evening, morning, dawn? What is it? What time is it?” Ivan asked and yawned, running his fingers through his platinum blonde locks.
“Does it matter?” Raven countered.
“I guess it doesn’t, Miss Martine the Enforcer. How may I be of assistance?” he asked her.
“I need to know what you put in those cigarettes,” she insisted.
Ivan twirled his finger in the hair of one woman, while he turned to another and stuck his tongue in her mouth and his hand in her panties. He stroked her lips subtly, smoothly, making Michy turn away in disgust while Raven simply looked on with a raised, unimpressed, eyebrow. She wasn’t envious. She wasn’t moved. She didn’t feel anything toward the brazen display of attempted seduction.
“I hear you've got quite the grip. I saw that much as well. I'm sure Conan would be pleased to know you've sought me out.” Ivan walked over toward a bookcase, pulling something off it. It was square, the size of a necklace box, but thinner. He flicked it open to reveal a fully stocked case of cigarettes. “You see here? This is what you smoked. This is what you want I presume. I sell them for a hundred dollars a pop. Gets the party going, you know?”
“I know. I don’t want to buy one, Ivan. I want and need you to tell me what’s in that so I know what kind of effect it will have on my body.”
“Seems like it did your body good.” He ran his tongue over his teeth. “You and Conan sure enjoyed yourselves. But I can't give you the information you're looking for. Think of these as a prototype of sorts. They're in their market testing stage. I can't just give up all my secrets, you know.”
Ivan’s lack of cooperation wasn’t
merely angering Raven, it was endangering his life. Her frustration with him grew and she refused to be dismissed.
“You have about two minutes to give me the answers I’m looking for, Ivan. I’m under direct authority from the Council to treat this situation with the dire urgency it deserves. If you do not want to help me, then I will extract the information from you. I can promise you will not enjoy any bit of that,” she warned.
Michy spoke up, “Ivan just tell her how you make the damn things.”
“Oh, right, so you can scurry back to Alan and have him cut me out of the largest segment of my consumer base? Not gonna happen, sweetheart.” He hissed at her. “It's bad enough he's got the nerve to market those clubs as a place for a myriad of species to mingle. Do you know how much of an elitist he is when it comes to members of his pack? Brown wolves only. Why aren't you threatening him, Miss Martine the Enforcer?”
“Because Alan Barstow is not my assignment,” she replied sharply. “Now, you can take me into another room and tell me what’s in those things, or we can do this the hard way. The hard way is far more preferable to me, anyhow.”
“But doesn't it bother you? The mingling of species? Humans, wolves, bears, any shifter willing to pay their entrance fee? Don't you find it demeaning and exploitative to use our kind, our brethren, as some sort of gimmick to make a dollar?”
“Oh, you're one to talk? What do you think you're doing by selling those cigarettes? A hundred dollars a pop? Seriously? You believe that's not exploiting our kind, our brethren, in any way? Stop being difficult and just tell me what I want to know!” she demanded with ferocity in her voice.
Raven's clenched fist signaled the women, the Shana-lookalikes, to disappear and for Michy to step out of her way as she was in her direct path toward Ivan. He sensed the tension rising, and began to quiver. But he wanted to give the appearance he was braver than he actually was.
Keeping his resolve, he stood there with his hands on his hips. It was a failed attempt to mock Alan’s fairer eccentricity. He rolled his eyes. “How about we meet in the middle? You pay me for the cig and you get to dissect it yourself? You can filter out the tobacco and decipher the ingredients on your own.”
The Wolf's Temptation (Alpha Wolves of Myre Falls Book 2) Page 4
