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Shrew & Company Books 1-3

Page 24

by Holley Trent


  So, the truth, then.

  “Yes!” she yelled, encouraging him with yet another clench of her sex.

  “Yes what, querida?” His breath tickled the sensitive skin of her neck he exposed, holding her hair to the side. He kissed her from shoulder to jaw, making her legs go to jelly as his hand found her clit.

  “I—I miss you when you leave,” she confessed, and it felt wonderful—so freeing saying it out loud. Something she’d never said to any man before, because she never had missed them. When they walked out of the door, her thoughts were usually, “See you sucka.” Even the ones that’d been pretty decent love-makers, she couldn’t wait for them to pick up their pants and get out. They’d just been a means to an end. No emotional connection whatsoever, because her emotions hadn’t been a gift she felt them worthy of receiving.

  And that was the funny part. Women had always been the ones accused of giving up emotions so freely, but that had never been the case with Sarah. She was always at even keel unless some powerful experience forced her to react. Like being in the Marines and getting shot at. Or working undercover and witnessing the abuse of children. Or now, having a man who seemed to intrinsically understand her without her having to explain anything. If that wasn’t a partnership meant to be, she didn’t know what was.

  His worked his deft fingers over the knots of first one belt, then the other, and he freed her hands, kissing her wrists as circulation returned to her fingers.

  “What are you doing? Are we going to…finish?”

  He nudged the shirt from her eyes, laid kisses up her arms, tenderly, and paused at one shoulder to say, “I wanted you to see my face.” He took her lips next, teasing them open with the tip of his tongue and moaning when she let him in.

  She felt something akin to whiplash at his sudden mood shift—ferocious to tender—and didn’t try to understand it.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist, welcoming his cock’s return to her sex, but his forehead was furrowed.

  Eyes serious.

  “I didn’t think you would, really,” he said.

  “Huh?”

  He didn’t respond. When he slid his cock in this time, he was slow. Careful. “You sound like you actually mean it.”

  Is he kidding me?

  She didn’t respond out loud, though, just drew him closer and laced her fingers through his loose hair. The eye contact at that short span was intense, but he didn’t look away, so neither did she. Their gazes remained locked until she tipped her chin up for a kiss, and his eyelids fell closed when their lips touched.

  When she came, her body quaking and primal grunts escaping her throat, he whispered, “¿Me amas?” and she answered, “Yes,” without thinking, because it required no thought. She did love him. Every unrefined bit of him.

  Then he finished, leaving his cock in her until it was spent, groaning through clenched teeth, and he didn’t say it back.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The punch seemed to come from nowhere. It landed squarely on his jaw and knocked him back on his ass. For her to be such a small woman, Sarah’s fist packed a wallop.

  Felipe rubbed his sore jaw, fairly certain she’d loosened the roots of several of his teeth, and narrowed his eyes at her. “What the hell was that for?”

  Her only response was a snarl. She shook out her hand and stood, nudging his feet away from the pile of clothes her blue jeans rested on, and picked them up.

  She dressed quickly, mumbling to herself all the while, and using some words that didn’t exist in Felipe’s English glossary.

  Or maybe it wasn’t English. Maybe she’d picked up some choice words from Tamara.

  She strapped her holster back on and sheathed her knife before picking up the walkie-talkie. Pushing the button, she spoke in a dry tone, “Road to base, how are you? Over.”

  Tamara, back at the house, responded, “Base to road, we’re A-okay. Astrid and Dana are on the way down the driveway now. They’re going to check on our little outpost. Over.”

  Sarah stuffed the walkie-talkie into her pocket and eased closer to the treehouse’s trap door, pointedly putting her back to him.

  Slowly, he stood as much as he could in the small room, still reeling a bit from the blow, and shook out his underwear.

  His head hadn’t had an impact like that since he was seventeen and missed the trapeze. The practice net hadn’t been laced tightly enough and he’d hit the cement floor as if there’d been no net there at all. He and Fabian were both a bit more durable than most because of their wind-walker compositions, but every now and then, some things just hurt.

  That included Sarah’s punch. She had a punch like a battering ram and he had no idea what he’d done to be on the receiving end of it.

  He stepped into the new-to-him jeans Patrick had handed down to him and knocked the dust off his shirt. “Querida—”

  “Go fuck yourself.”

  He scoffed. “I’ve done enough of that in my lifetime.” When he pressed his body against her back and put his arms around her slumped form, she jumped, as if from fright, but didn’t duck out.

  “I’m only fucking you from now on.”

  She sucked her teeth. “Classy.”

  “Why pretend to be something I’m not? What did I do to upset you?”

  She scanned the trees through the small window in front of her, and the shiny black glint of the Shrew SUV flashed briefly through the dense woods. The ladies were on the way down.

  Sarah moved, as if preparing to go unhinge the gate, but he held her tight. “You’ve got a moment. Answer me.”

  Her jaw ground and her fingers tightened on the trap door’s edge. “Why do you care?”

  “I didn’t think you were the kind of woman to play games, querida.”

  “Who’s playing games?” Now she turned, but with his arms there, the most she could do was wedge her soft, feminine front against his hard one—and boy, was he still hard. It was hard not to be when standing so close to her. No woman had ever had that sort of effect on him. It was downright maddening the way his body responded to even a heated glance from her. He was lucky Fabian hadn’t made a move on her. Fabian had probably been too distracted by Felipe’s disappearance to think about it, and Sarah was definitely Fabian’s type. He liked them feisty.

  She wouldn’t meet his stare. “Let me go. I need to lift the gate.”

  He couldn’t argue that, because the truck was slowing to a stop, and Dana probably wondered why the Shrew wasn’t at her post. He didn’t want Dana to have to get out, so he backed up.

  Sarah descended through the opening in the floor.

  He crawled to the window to watch the exchange, but instead of seeing his Shrew lifting the heavy barrier, he saw the flash of her white shirt as she ducked behind a large pine with her gun drawn.

  It took him a moment to locate the source of her agitation, but in studying the SUV a couple of moments, he saw something shift beneath the vehicle’s driver’s-side running board. Something not-quite-human, and Sarah had evidently spotted it first.

  Dana put her window down, already gripping her gun in her right hand, although she couldn’t have seen what Sarah had. It was explicit trust, and Felipe knew from watching the women work over the past couple of months that this was why the Shrews were so damned good at what they did. It was the same reason he and Fabian were successful and why they were able to perform increasingly complicated, death defying stunts that took peoples’ breath away.

  Trust.

  Not one to be left out, Felipe phased to invisible and descended the ladder. As the half-shifted Were-bear pulled himself from beneath the truck, Felipe carefully jumped onto the hood.

  He perched next on the roof, watching the young beast scramble to his feet.

  The Bear snarled at Dana’s open door and turned to run.

  Unfortunately for the Bear, Sarah was already there.

  “I’ve got silver in this gun,” she said.

  Felipe didn’t know if that was truth or lie, bu
t her expression was saying Try me, motherfucker. If Felipe had been that young Bear, he wouldn’t try. He wouldn’t try any of the Shrews.

  He tried to rub his jaw in memory of what his Shrew had just done to it, but his jaw wasn’t there. Neither was his hand, for that matter. His brain couldn’t help but to register appendages that technically didn’t exist at the moment.

  The Were-bear roared again, now forcing himself to his full beast form, which actually wasn’t much bigger his man form. In fact, he wasn’t much bigger than a Great Dane standing on two legs.

  Still, the Shrews seemed to be set on exercising caution.

  “No one’s going to hurt you, stupid,” Dana said, walking closer with her gun poised and ready. “We don’t hurt people unless we have to.”

  Felipe didn’t exactly agree with that sentiment given recent events, but that was personal between him and Sarah.

  He looked at her, and as if she knew he was thinking of her, she looked toward the treehouse, obviously not seeing him. She furrowed her forehead, marking her confusion, but there was nothing he could do for it. He knew that in a way, he was compromising her concentration, but it was too late to fill her in on the game plan. If they ever worked together again in the future, they’d have to devise some sort of signal…just like him and Fabian.

  “Calm down, fluffy,” Dana said, now close enough for the Bear to take a swipe at her if he so desired.

  He didn’t. He just growled some more, cowering.

  “What do you want?” Sarah asked, now moving in close, and Felipe didn’t like it.

  He yelled, “Get back!” but had no voice box at the moment. He was just air.

  Fuck, woman, be careful.

  And who was he to decide how she should do her job? She’d been doing it competently for a long time before he came along. He just had to trust she, Dana, and now Astrid who created the third point of a triangle around the Bear, knew what they were doing.

  He honed in on a track of red on the Were-bear’s back. Blood mixed with matted hair and gravel. He’d probably grown tired of hanging onto the axle and dipped against the road for part of the ride, scraping his back. If his flesh looked that gnarly in his Bear form, it had to look like hamburger in his man form.

  Slowly, the Bear shifted back into his human shape, shaking, and his shoulders drooping as he breathed through his mouth.

  His pain was obvious, and Felipe almost felt sorry for him.

  “No one’s going to hurt you, fluffy,” Dana said, taking another step closer. “But this is private property. You shouldn’t be here.”

  Sarah lowered her gun slightly and eased in close, as did Astrid.

  “What’s your name, kid?” Sarah asked.

  And Felipe saw then that it was true. He was a child. The Were-bear couldn’t have been much more than fifteen—sixteen at the oldest—and standing there nude in front of three badass vixens with guns, he’d likely be scarred for life.

  Felipe phased back into his solid form, and sighed.

  Sarah rolled her eyes upon spotting him, but didn’t give him away.

  “Chauncey,” the kid said, now covering his manhood, such that it was, with his hands.

  Astrid backed off and turned to the vehicle, yipping when her sighted tracked to Felipe perched on the top like a gargoyle. “Fucker,” she mumbled loud enough for him to hear before pulling open the back door. After a moment, she reappeared carrying a woven blanket. She tossed it at the kid, but he let it fall to his feet.

  Dana laughed. “You’ll have to excuse us if we choose not to turn our backs,” she said. “We’ve seen it all before, fluffy, and all of us like our flesh to be well over the age of consent. You can spare one hand to cover your junk while you pick up the blanket.”

  Chauncey’s gaze darted from Dana to Sarah, who nodded at him.

  He bent slowly, keeping his head up as he blindly patted the ground at his feet.

  After he’d gotten the blanket wrapped around his body, he looked at each woman in turn again before finally settling his gaze on Sarah.

  Felipe hopped down.

  The kid jumped as with fright, and took a step closer to Sarah. “They made me come. I didn’t want to come.”

  “Who made you come?” she asked.

  “Gene. He’s…the Bear leader. Sent me as a punishment.”

  “Punishment for what?”

  “That…that when y’all took our Bears, you took good Bears, and not me instead. Ain’t got no use for me. They’re just keepin’ me around out of the goodness of their hearts, anyway.”

  “Goodness?” Dana asked, incredulity apparent in her voice.

  Chauncey shrugged. “Ain’t good for nothing. Can’t work. Can’t contribute no way, but whenever kids like me end up in the foster homes, they gotta get us out or folks’ll find out.”

  “Gotcha.” Dana bobbed her head toward the SUV’s back passenger door, and without another word, Astrid pulled it open.

  “Where are you from, kid?” Astrid asked as Chauncey walked over, dragging the tails of the blanket behind him.

  “’Round Boone.”

  “How’d you get in a foster home all the way down here?”

  “Ran away.”

  “Oh.” She closed the door on him and joined the other Shrews, and Felipe, in the cluster.

  Dana sighed and said in a rushed whisper, “What did that little twerp think that kid would be able to do for him? He sure as shit can’t fight. He’s the sorriest Bear I’ve ever seen, and that’s counting Gene. What’s Gene, Sarah? Five-one?”

  “If that.”

  “But Gene fights dirty. He likes his knives and isn’t afraid to get bigger Bears to do his dirty work. This kid shouldn’t even be with this group. He must be a born-Bear and not turned, else they wouldn’t have a choice but to protect him. No one would intentionally turn a child like that.”

  “That’s all well and good,” Astrid said, sounding a bit annoyed, “but the fact of the matter is this kid managed to sneak onto the property unseen. How long has he been watching us? What does he know? And what did he come here to do?”

  “You’re right,” Dana said acquiescently. “Thanks for getting us back on topic.”

  She turned to Sarah. “He seems comfortable with you, oh silver-tongued goddess.”

  Sarah raised an eyebrow. “What are you suggesting?”

  “He’s a Bear and sure as shit smells like one. Take him to the farm and let him run off some energy around the house—to cover up our scents from the past few weeks’ coming and going. Get the Visas some hot food for a change, and when you’re done with that, maybe find out what the fuck the kid was doing out here.” Dana slipped her cell phone out of her pocket and tapped in a number.

  “Hey, dirty cat. Change of plans. Can you pick Astrid and me up at the gate? It’s a long walk, baby. Bring Tamara down with you. I gotta send Sarah out and need to put a body in the treehouse.”

  Sarah was already striding toward the open driver’s side door of the SUV. Before she could close it, Felipe grabbed the handle and wedged himself into the gap.

  She rolled her eyes. “What?”

  “Are you seriously going to drive with him in the car unaccompanied? You’re more careful than that.” Felipe cut a hostile gaze through the crack between the seat and door, and Chauncey withered beneath it.

  “He’s not going to bother me, are you Chauncey?” Sarah asked.

  Chauncey shook his head hard and fast, and his eyes went comically wide.

  Sarah pulled her seatbelt across her body and raised an eyebrow at Felipe. “I think he knows he’s safer with us than with the Bears. Pretty sure Gene did him a favor.”

  No one had asked Chauncey, but now he was nodding, just as rapidly as he’d been shaking.

  “Going to get him some lunch and tend to our guests. Please move away from the door. Tamara’s coming. Don’t want to keep her waiting at the gate. You don’t really want to give her another reason not to like you, would you?”

  Hell
no, he didn’t. He moved away from the door, and she slammed it shut so fast, she nearly caught the tail of his shirt in it. He still had no idea what he’d done to alter her mood so drastically.

  Tamara hopped down from Patrick’s truck and jogged toward them as Astrid and Dana gave up their posts. Before Tamara could treat him to a choice selection of her favorite curses, Felipe pulled open the back door and climbed up.

  “Mueve,” he said in a growl, and whether or not Chauncey could translate it, he didn’t know, but the kid scooted all the way to the far door and pressed his side against it.

  “What are you doing?” Sarah asked, scowling at him via the rearview mirror just like she had when they’d first met.

  They really had to stop communicating that way.

  “Don’t mind me. I’m just keeping the young man company while you drive.”

  “Don’t bother him.”

  Bother him?

  What had gotten into her? He didn’t respond, just fastened his seatbelt and tried to make himself as comfortable as he could crammed behind Sarah’s seat. He was pretty sure she had motored it back about six inches just to make him that much more miserable.

  Once they were on the road with the turnoff to the cabin path well behind them, he said, “When I was gone this last time, I picked up a lead. Do you care?”

  She seemed intent on making him wait a long while before answering. “Do I care about Fabian? Yes.”

  “Why do you make it sound like we’re interchangeable?”

  “You said it, not me.”

  He ground his teeth. She had to be intentionally pushing his buttons, trying to get a rise out of him. Hadn’t she just said back in the tree stand that she loved him? A woman who loved him wouldn’t suddenly be so capricious. So mercurial.

  It’d felt amazing that she’d admitted it.

  He’d wanted to take her away from all this shit and close them off from everything else in the world for a while. Just him and her. Maybe take her to Spain and try to snatch some of the vestiges of his roots, if there were any left. Maybe find his mother’s people in France, whom probably didn’t even know she was dead after all these years. Felipe had been too young to understand as a child, but now, he was able to piece together some of those whispered conversations his elderly aunt had on the phone.

 

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