Ronan waited. He was a frightening sight out here in the dark, looming like a giant, his Collar gleaming in the moonlight.
“Here’s my deal,” Julio said. “You, Shifter, come out to the fight club out east of here tomorrow night and fight my champion. Spike knows where it is. My champion’s a good fighter, but I’ve seen you, and I think you’d have a chance against him. You win, I leave you and your lady alone forever. You testify at my trial, do whatever you want. If my champion wins then you agree to not to testify, get out of town, and leave me the hell alone. Got it?”
Elizabeth longed to shout at him, to lambaste him for coming here and expecting her to cut a deal, when he’d been the one who’d shoved a pistol into her face and tried to take away everything she had. What should she do, apologize for not being a helpless victim? She clamped her lips closed, struggling against the words.
Ronan’s Collar sparked again. “Not interested,” he said.
He started walking, directly at Julio. Julio sidestepped, and Ronan pulled Elizabeth along past him. Nate and Spike closed in.
“You’re going to want to take my deal,” Julio called, voice edged with desperation. “Don’t walk away from me so fast . . . Rachel.”
Elizabeth knew she shouldn’t stop, shouldn’t react. She should ignore him, have every inch of her body language say, Who’s Rachel?
But she froze, one foot in the act of striding, while fear hit her so hard she wanted to be sick. She sensed Ronan slow beside her, felt his curiosity, his caution.
“Rachel Sullivan,” Julio went on, glee in his voice. “You have a juvey record longer than mine. Yeah, I can see what’s in old files. My brother got into bed with a hacker—literally, she’s screwing him. Mouthy bitch, but she knows her stuff. You got mixed up with a very, very bad dude, didn’t you? I bet he’d love to have Pablo call him and tell him he knows where Rachel Sullivan is.”
Ronan’s growls rose as he spun around, his Collar throwing out sparks like lightning. Nate and Spike flanked him.
Julio backed away, but he didn’t run. “Kill me now, and an email gets sent to his phone in the morning. If you agree, and I make it home before the message is timed to send, I’ll erase it. You say no, or you kill me . . . well, there will be no one to push the delete key. Then you have to deal with him.”
Elizabeth finally spoke. “I take it your brother doesn’t know about this little deal?”
“Pablo told me to take care of my problems on my own. So I’m taking care of them. But my brother and his hacker chick know all about you and your sister. The foster homes, your arrests for pick-pocketing and shoplifting and your little scams, you avoiding jail by the skin of your teeth.”
“I never went down for armed robbery,” Elizabeth said, voice tight.
“You would have, eventually. You were a desperate little chiquita.”
“You aren’t desperate,” Elizabeth snapped.
“I told you. I did it for fun. Well, Shifter? You gonna show up and fight? Or let your puta’s ex find her and let her know how pissed he is at her for leaving him? Probably he’ll show you too.”
“No, Ronan,” Elizabeth said. “Don’t bargain with him.”
Ronan’s voice cut over hers. “Get the hell out of here, you little shit, before I let Spike rip you apart.”
“Take my offer, Bear,” Julio said, stepping backward toward the darkness. “Take it or that email goes.”
“Fine. Spike.”
Spike rushed him. Julio turned and ran, satisfactorily fast, but he called back, “See you tomorrow night!”
He melted into the darkness, a kid well versed in getting away as quickly as he could. Spike loped after him and Nate followed.
Ronan watched them go, remaining planted until he was well out of sight. He took Elizabeth’s hand again. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
Elizabeth ripped herself out of his grasp. “Don’t you dare say let’s go home like nothing’s wrong.”
“Let’s go home and talk about it, inside,” Ronan said emphatically.
“Yes, all right.” She was shaking. Hearing her real name come out of Julio’s mouth had made bile rise in her throat. “You can’t seriously mean you’ll do what he wants.”
“I don’t,” Ronan said. He leaned to her. “Now, let’s go home.”
Elizabeth held it together long enough to ride behind Ronan through the streets of Shiftertown to his house tucked beneath spreading trees. Ronan drove around to the back of the house and shut off the bike. No lights glowed in the house and they didn’t have outdoor lights to illuminate the back—Shifters saw well in the dark.
Ronan lifted off his helmet and hung it on the bike, and did the same with Elizabeth’s. Before she could move toward the house, he put large hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.
“Tell me the guy’s name.”
“Not if you mean you’ll go after him. He’s too dangerous, Ronan. If you think Pablo Marquez is dangerous, he’s small potatoes compared to this man.”
“I know he’s dangerous, and I know Marquez is too. I told Julio I’d agree to the fight so he wouldn’t send the damn email. Julio’s a brat, but he can hurt you just by being stupid. Tell me his name. We need to know.”
“What is wrong with you?” Elizabeth’s voice rose, and she didn’t care. “You Shifters think you’re unstoppable. Well, you’re not. You wear Collars, for God’s sake. You have to live in Shiftertowns, you’re treated like second-class citizens. What makes you think you can go after a huge drug lord and survive when the cops, the FBI, and even other gangs can’t make a dent?”
“Because Shifters don’t give a rat’s ass about Collars and Shiftertowns and idiotic human rules!” Ronan shouted back. “The humans feel so good that they’ve restricted us and controlled us, don’t they? So safe, because the beasts are in the cage. Meanwhile, if you hadn’t noticed, we do whatever the hell we want.”
Yes, Elizabeth had noticed that. She remembered the courtroom, where the judge, prosecutor, and bailiff had been nervous and ill at ease, while Liam and Ronan hadn’t been worried at all. They’d been in control, and they’d known it. Ronan, also, nonchalantly escorted Elizabeth to her store every morning, blatantly disregarding his restriction to remain in Shiftertown. He took precautions not to be caught, but he went.
“I still don’t want you fighting whoever Julio’s coerced into working for him,” Elizabeth said.
The glint in Ronan’s eye was maddening. “Why not? It might be fun.”
“Ronan.”
“You let me worry about the fight, and you let me worry about this drug lord. Now, who is he?”
“Damn it, Ronan, if you go up against him, he’ll kill you. He won’t wait to talk. He’ll kill you and all your Shifter friends. I’m not kidding.”
“I’m not kidding, either. Why do you think Pablo Marquez has left you alone all week? Because Dylan and Sean went and had a little talk with him. Marquez is making plans to shut down his business here and open up somewhere else.”
“I never heard that.”
“Of course you didn’t. The Morrisseys, they do their shit, and they shut up about it. I didn’t tell you, because I liked seeing you not worry about him. Now I want to make sure you never have to worry about this other guy—whose name you’re about to give me.”
Elizabeth pressed her hands together. She didn’t know what to do, and her indecision and fear made her eyes blur with tears.
Ronan softened his touch. “Sweetheart,” he said in the tender tone she’d come to love. He drew her against him. “Don’t be scared. I take care of you now. That’s what it means to be mate-claimed.”
“But I could lose you.” Her voice broke. “I finally found something good, and I’ll lose you!”
Ronan cuddled her close. “Lizzie-girl,” he said, lips brushing her hair. “Shh.”
They stood together in the night breeze that cooled the humid air, rocking together. The pain that laced Elizabeth’s heart made more tears spill to wet the bl
ack T-shirt stretched over Ronan’s chest. She’d had so few good things in her life, so few good people, that everything in her cried, Don’t let go.
She wiped tears from her eyes as she rose on her tiptoes and kissed him.
Ronan’s mouth was a warm place in the night, tasting of heat and spice. Elizabeth clung to him as he kissed her back, his tongue stroking hers with gentle possession.
This man had become, even in such a short time, a rock in her life. To have someone take him away from her—no!
Ronan warmed her back with his big hands, his touch soothing. “We should get inside,” he said. “Not the house. Rebecca’s upstairs taking care of Olaf, and your sister and Cherie are talking like crazy in your room. Shifter hearing. And scent,” he said, by way of explanation as to how he knew this. “Besides, my room’s always a mess.”
He gave her a little shamefaced smile as he said this last, which made Elizabeth kiss him again. He gestured toward the Den, and she nodded. Ronan took her hand and led her there.
CHAPTER 13
The Den was empty, dark, and quiet. Ronan turned on a lamp and closed the shades against the night.
He didn’t try anything romantic like carrying Elizabeth to the bed this time. He simply kissed her while he slid his hands under the hem of her cropped top and lifted it off over her head.
She wore a tiny black bra underneath, a strip of satin and lace above which her breasts swelled. She closed her eyes as Ronan drew his fingertip along her butterfly tattoo, bared in its entirety now. It had tasted fine the other night. Ronan lowered his head to taste it again.
Elizabeth made a little noise of pleasure, and her fingers came up to furrow his hair. She smelled good, the cinnamon scent overlaid with her own musk. He tasted perspiration and her as he glided his tongue over the smooth line of her tattoo.
Elizabeth slid her hands down his back and tugged at his T-shirt. Ronan obliged her by pulling off the shirt and tossing it away. He was rewarded by Elizabeth running her hands down his torso, fingers finding his flat nipples among wiry hair.
“You have to be the largest man I’ve ever seen,” she said.
“Kodiaks get big.” Ronan slid his hands to her waist. “You, though, are tiny.”
She laughed softly. “Oh, please, I’ve never been called tiny in my life.”
“You are to me. And yet . . .” He moved his hands beneath her breasts. “You have curves a man could lose himself in.”
“You aren’t bad yourself.” Elizabeth skimmed her hands down to his buttocks, which were still cupped by his jeans. She usually liked to hook her fingers through his belt loops, but this time, she slid them into his back pockets.
“I could grow to like this,” Ronan said. “But I’m getting a little frenzied.”
“The frenzy again?”
Ronan snaked his thumbs under the elastic of her bra, finding a soft cushion of woman beneath. “A Shifter’s curse, the mating frenzy. When it comes upon us, we’ll do anything to hole up with our mates and not come out until it’s over. For days. Or weeks.”
“Good.”
Ronan warmed. “Good?”
“Means you’ll be too busy to go to that stupid fight club.”
“Maybe.” Ronan’s blood was hot with need, his skin starting to bead with sweat. Elizabeth was lovely, and soft, and damn sexy in that bra. Choosing between lying with her for a week or fighting a smelly Shifter wasn’t difficult. Ronan ran his fingers around to the back of her bra and fumbled with the hooks. “I’m not good at this.”
Her smile made her eyes soft. “Don’t tell me you’re inexperienced.”
“I’ve never been with a human woman, no.” Ronan finally worked the two catches free. “I think I’ve been missing out.”
Elizabeth took her hands from Ronan’s pockets and slid the bra straps from her shoulders. Her breasts came into view, round and full, tips dusky. She had another tattoo, he discovered, a tiny one just below her left nipple—a perfectly formed little fairy with finely penned wings. He lowered his head and kissed it.
Elizabeth’s intake of breath made him warmer still, and he licked where he’d kissed.
“That hurt when I got it done,” Elizabeth said in a near-whisper. “I thought I was crazy. The lady who did it for me, though, she was a real artist.”
“I like it,” Ronan said into her skin. He moved his mouth upward and caught her areola with his tongue.
Elizabeth stood perfectly still, sensations pouring through her as his mouth did its dance. Her body was open and hot, the space between her legs relaxed and wanting him.
She unhooked his belt and pulled it open then popped the button of his jeans. Ronan came up, his eyes holding the same longing she felt. He quickly pulled off his boots then unzipped and got rid of the jeans, pulling his underwear down with them.
Elizabeth had seen him naked before, but this time was different. Before, he’d been shifting, a warrior, protecting her. Now he was a man, bared to take her to bed.
She ran her hands down his chest, over his flat abdomen, and stopped when she reached the hardness of him. Elizabeth became needier still as she closed her hands around it.
“So the rumors are true,” she said. “About the extra inches.”
“Every single one of them, sweetheart.”
She wanted to laugh. “You’re full of yourself.”
“No, you are full of myself.”
“Shithead.”
Elizabeth rose on her tiptoes, still holding on, and kissed his mouth. Ronan made a noise of enjoyment as she squeezed him, and his answering kiss took her breath away.
No more holding back. Ronan yanked open her jeans, the top button flying across the room. Before Elizabeth could move to assist, he had the jeans down, hands deftly removing her high-heeled half-boots at the same time. Next came her black satin panties that matched her bra, his large hands warming her legs.
Now she was bare, and so was he, standing body to body. He kissed her as he scooped her against him, lifted her, and carried her to the bed.
He stripped back the quilts, laying her on the sheets before he climbed into bed beside her. Elizabeth slid her hand again to his very erect shaft, knowing exactly what she wanted to do. She came up on her knees and coaxed him onto his back, then she straddled him, sitting back on his shins so she could keep rubbing him with her hand.
Ronan curled his arms behind his head, watching her with intense eyes while she stroked him. She could tell he was holding back, keeping himself from reaching for her, while waiting to see what she’d do.
“Lizzie-girl,” he said, voice raw. “You’re going to kill me.”
Elizabeth gave him a sly look. She leaned down and licked his navel, then let her tongue glide down, all the way down. She traveled the length of him and closed her mouth over his tip.
Not for long. Ronan growled, a sound that came from the depths of him. He dragged Elizabeth up and over onto her back, cradling her the whole time so she came down softly on the mattress. He parted her thighs with one large knee, and then he was over her, the strong shaft she’d stroked sliding into her.
Elizabeth arched her body, rising to meet him. He pushed inside smoothly, she so slick for him, that it was nothing but astonishing pleasure.
Ronan’s eyes flickered, becoming the lighter color Shifters’ eyes seemed to go when they wanted to change. But he didn’t shift. He filled her, his muscles moving as he kept his weight from crushing her, even now fearing to hurt her.
Elizabeth hooked one leg around him, gliding her foot up to his firm buttocks. Ronan kissed her as he loved her, hot, needy kisses. She tasted his loneliness and his longing, his hope that perhaps his loneliness was at an end.
At times in the past, when Elizabeth had lain with a man, she’d felt alone and disconnected, even in the middle of sex. With Ronan, she was connected, not just physically, but with a warmth that ran through her heart and through her blood.
She whispered his name, and he looked into her eyes, far gone in feeli
ng. Elizabeth’s body opened to his, and the same feeling came to her. They were whole, joined, like two streams of fire that ran together to become one.
And then Elizabeth’s thoughts dissolved into pure feeling. The intensity of them crashed over her, erasing fear, pain, isolation . . . everything gone. She was with Ronan, shielded from the world, from everything but this joy.
She rose to her climax on a wash of white-hot pleasure, hearing her voice ring out, Ronan’s joining it. They rippled together, Ronan riding her, his kisses hot and primal.
They loved for a long, long time, until manic heat slowed to loving warmth. They fell back to the bed, mouths meeting, hands moving, each taking and giving, until all was quiet, and they drowsed together on the rumpled sheets.
A long time later, Elizabeth pried open heavy eyes to see Ronan sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at something in his hand. No, he was tapping something, which glowed. Elizabeth rubbed her eyes and saw that he held a phone.
“You’re going through my pockets now?” she asked.
“This was on the floor.” Ronan moved his thumb to scroll through lists of phone numbers. “Must have fallen out when we were ripping off each other’s clothes. But this isn’t your phone.”
“I know that.” Elizabeth traced the arcs of the Celtic tattoo on his back. “It’s Julio Marquez’s.”
Ronan looked back and down at her, his eyes shining in the garish light from the phone. “And you have it, because . . .”
“I lifted it when we went by him in the parking lot. I thought it might be useful.” She lay down again, keeping her fingertips on Ronan’s back. “No, to be honest, I was being a pain in the ass. My way of spitting at him.”
“I think you’re right though—this will be useful,” Ronan said. “Very. Julio makes a lot of phone calls. Most recently to someone named . . . Casey.”
Elizabeth froze, her blood like ice. “Zach Casey,” she whispered.
Ronan turned all the way around, getting on the bed with her again. “The guy you ran away from?”
“I told you, Ronan. Please.” She closed her hand around his arm, feeling her fears pour over her. “Don’t go near him. I think I’d die if I lost you.”
BodyGuard (Butterscotch Martini Shots Book 2) Page 12
