Bad Blood Panther (Bad Blood Shifters Book 4)

by Anastasia Wilde

  He moved his head and kissed her, right where her neck met her shoulder.

  She shivered slightly.

  That made him smile.

  She pulled back, though, putting a tiny space between them, running her hands over his pecs, smoothing his bicep with her palm.

  She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  “You’re thinking, Jennycat. Tell me what you’re thinking.” Jennycat. He used to call her that sometimes, even before he knew she was a panther. It just seemed to fit. She’d liked it then. He wondered if she still did.

  “I do that,” she said. “The thinking thing. You always said I did it too much.”

  “I said a lot of shit.” He ran his fingers through her hair again. “Still do. But maybe you should just be yourself right now, and tell me what the thoughts are, instead of worrying about shit I said when I was somebody completely different.”

  She bit her lips. He could tell she was trying to be brave again, to look him in the eye, but she couldn’t.

  “I’m wondering,” she said. “If you still want me to be your mate. Or if you hate me, like you said.”

  Xander stroked her shoulder, trying to sort out what was going on inside him so he could give her a real answer.

  The silence stretched out.

  “You don’t,” she said, moving away from him. “Want me, I mean. You still don’t feel that way about me, even if your panther does.”

  He caught her gently, before she could go too far.

  “Don’t give up so fast,” he said. Her body went still.

  “Look,” he said. “I don’t know what a mating bond feels like. I clearly didn’t know what love felt like, or I wouldn’t have thought I had it with Cindi.”

  She gave a little snort.

  Right. Idiot.

  “My brain is still unspooling, with all the shit that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. All I can do is tell you what I feel right now.”

  He drew a line with his fingers, all the way along her arm, down her hip, and back again.

  “When I hold you, when I touch you like this, I feel good. Crazy good. When you’re sad or upset, I feel kind of…desperate inside. Like I have to fix it right now. When I think about you leaving, I feel like I’m going to fucking panic.”

  He grazed his fingertips over her cheek.

  “And I want to kiss you. Like, I want to make out with you forever and ever, all afternoon, and not even fuck because I just want to taste your lips and feel you all wrapped around me. Except I do want to fuck, because, you know, wow over there against the wall, and I keep thinking it would probably be even better if we did it again when we weren’t two minutes away from killing each other. Though that was pretty hot.”

  She gave a tiny smile, but she was still unhappy. He could feel it. His stomach clenched.

  “It’s not enough for you, is it?” he said. “Because of…the way you feel about me.” Because she loved him. Why had he never realized she loved him?

  “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I wish…”

  She wished he loved her. Maybe he did. He wanted to love her, he realized. He wanted what he felt to be that.

  “I always knew I’d suck at being a mate,” he said. “Even though my cat wanted one so bad.” He wanted one so bad. “The other guys are all sweet and fuzzy and romantic with their mates, and I’m not any of those things. But I can try. Maybe I’ll get better at it. If you stay. Maybe there are still some good things about me. The other girls see the good things in their mates, and they don’t seem to mind the fucked-up things. Maybe you can find some good in me.”

  He looked down, and was surprised to see tears in her eyes.

  “There are good things in you, Xander Fierro,” she said, touching his face gently. “You’ll see. And I’m going to show you all of them.”

  She was staying. His eyes burned. Fuck. He was going to lose it.

  He shifted position, moving over her, his elbows on either side of her. Her breasts were soft under his chest, and she smelled of sweat and arousal and of him, and he was suddenly struck with a pain so sweet it pierced his chest wide open.

  He dipped his head, brushing his lips across her scarred cheek. “I don’t hate you anymore,” he said. “And I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

  Her arms came around him, pulling him close, and she cupped his face with her hand. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

  The tears spilled over, and he buried his face in her hair. “I’m sorry too,” he said. “For hurting you.” For not falling in love with you when I should have.

  She opened her thighs, inviting him inside her once more.

  He slid into her, feeling her warm and sweet like wild honey. That huge wave of emotion built inside him again, threatening to carry him away, and for the first time, he let it. He moved in her, letting it all go, and she accepted it, facing it with him. He let it take its own time, a slow build, until finally the emotion and sensation merged them into one.

  And she was there, holding him, clenching and shuddering and drawing him in, accepting everything he was and everything he had been or would be. Her mouth found his and he could breathe again.

  They rode out the last of the wave together, shaking.

  Mates.

  He didn’t know how he was going to pull this off, but he had to. He and his cat had found their one and only mate, and there was no way they could ever let her go. It would end them both.

  Chapter 13

  Mates.

  She was Xander’s mate.

  To Jenny, it still felt strange and surreal, whether she was going to work and learning the ropes at the Bearcat Construction office, or sitting around the firepit at night with the crew, barbecuing and drinking and listening to Sloan play the guitar, or sleeping in Xander’s arms after wild, hungry sex.

  The crew was beginning to accept her. Lissa and Caitlyn included her in a girls’ chick flick marathon, and Jasmin and Brody let her join in when they taught Xander and Lissa cage fighting techniques. Especially ways to defeat an opponent that you didn’t want to kill.

  Which Xander kept saying was stupid, because he supposedly wanted to kill everything. But as the days went on, it seemed like maybe he didn’t. Like maybe his cat was settling, and he wasn’t so angry and unhappy anymore.

  Jenny tried to make him happy. She wanted to be a good mate, although with Xander it was sometimes hard to know what he really felt or wanted. He still had trouble being serious, a lot of the time, and took refuge in his “don’t give a fuck” attitude. Especially when his emotions were running high.

  The feelings between them were so powerful, and there was so much history standing between them.

  And Jenny still hadn’t told him about Brandon.

  She’d talked to Anthea on their regularly scheduled days, sneaking off by herself to make the calls. Brandon was fine; he missed Jenny, but he seemed happy. Every time she hung up, she felt overwhelmed with guilt—guilt over leaving Brandon; guilt for not telling Xander about him.

  It hasn’t even been a week, she told herself. She’d tell him soon. They just needed to solidify their bond, and get used to being together.

  In the meantime, Xander had decided being a good mate meant wooing Jenny by dreaming up imaginative dates. Jenny loved that so much she could hardly stand it. She’d never had anyone pay so much attention to her, or want to know everything she liked and figure out how to give it to her.

  One day, he bought giant bubble kits and took her to blow soap bubbles in the middle of a field of wildflowers.

  The next night, he drove her out to an overlook in his truck so they could lie on the hood and watch the stars, like they used to. Only this time, he set up candles on the toolbox in the truck bed, and danced with her to sappy country oldies on the radio before making sweet, passionate love to her under the full moon.

  Tonight, he’d bought a huge tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream and about a bazillion women’s magazines, so he could
supposedly learn all there was to know about her by making her do all the cheesy magazine quizzes while they binged on ice cream in bed.

  “Come on. This is an important step in our evolution as a couple,” he said, when she groaned and tried to shove the pile of airbrushed cover models away. “The magazines all say so.”

  “Nooo,” she protested. “I can feel the oppression of patriarchal expectations of feminine beauty crushing me from here. Make them go awaaaay…”

  “Fuck the patriarchy. You’re gorgeous,” Xander said. That made her feel better. Especially since she was probably going to get fat from all this ice cream.

  “Here’s a good one.” He opened the tub of ice cream and handed her a spoon, then returned to the magazine. “‘What your nail polish color reveals about the inner you.’”

  “I’m not wearing nail polish,” Jenny said. “I never do. What does that say about the inner me?”

  “That it’s either very mysterious, or nonexistent,” Xander said. He reached over and diverted her spoon to his mouth, stealing her bite of ice cream. “Here, wait.” He dug another magazine out of the pile and flipped through it to a nail polish ad. “Pick a color.”

  Jenny glanced at it. “They’re all hideous.”

  Xander rolled his eyes. “Close your eyes and pick one, then.”

  “How’s a random color choice going to reveal the inner me?”

  “No more ice cream until you do it.”

  Jenny closed her eyes and pointed.

  Xander returned to his quiz. “Purple…purple…here it is: You are a smart, beautiful and sassy woman...”

  “I like it so far,” Jenny said.

  “…who loves getting your boyfriend naked and letting him spank you. You also love oral sex and getting fucked really slow…”

  “It does not say that!” Jenny grabbed for the magazine, but Xander pulled it away.

  “Yes it does, but I’m not showing you because you’re rude. Here. I’ll find another quiz.”

  Jenny shook her head, watching him flip through his ridiculous pile of magazines. He could be so goofy, and somehow it made her feel all mushy inside.

  “These quizzes suck,” Xander announced. “I’m creating my own. The Fierro Personality Test.”

  He left her to eat ice cream and read fashion articles while he wrote questions in a tiny notebook. “Okay, got it,” he said. “This is very scientific.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “What’s your favorite color?”

  “Teal.”

  “Is that even a color?”

  “Of course it is. It’s like, blue-green.”

  “Why didn’t you just say that, then?”

  Jenny sighed. “You are such a guy.”

  “You love that about me. Okay, what’s your favorite sex toy?”

  She blushed all the way down to her toes. “I don’t have any sex toys!”

  “Don’t worry.” He patted her legs. “I’ll get you some.”

  “You will not.” Geez. She couldn’t imagine anything more embarrassing.

  “Moving on,” he said. “What’s your favorite Xander Fierro body part?” He took a bite of ice cream. “Besides the wangerdoodle, of course.”

  “So, we’re taking it for granted the wangerdoodle is the first favorite?”

  “How could you not love my wangerdoodle?”

  “I like this spot right here.” She leaned over and nibbled the place on his neck just below his ear that always made him crazy.

  “Umm,” he said. “Maybe we should talk again about your relationship with the wangerdoodle? Because it woke up and it’s looking for love.”

  “Not in the middle of a quiz,” she said innocently, settling back against her pillows. “This is an important step in our evolution as a couple, remember?”

  “Grr.” He returned to his notebook. “Favorite sexual position?”

  “Do you ever think about anything but sex?”

  “Not since I stopped wanting to kill stuff all the time. Come on. Favorite position.”

  She pouted. “I don’t want to pick.”

  “Why not?”

  “What if I pick one and then we don’t do the others anymore?”

  He leaned over and gave her a kiss, licking ice cream off her lip. Mmm. She definitely was getting more interested in furthering her relationship with the wangerdoodle.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “If you want, I’ll make a list of positions and we can rotate through them, so we don’t forget any. Want to know what my favorite is?”

  Jenny rolled her eyes. “It’s that weird Kama Sutra one, isn’t it? Where you were standing up and my head was down by your ankle?”

  Xander grinned wickedly. “Nope. That was really funny, though. Your face got all red and I thought your head was going to explode.” He licked his spoon. “My favorite’s missionary.”

  That was unexpected. “It is?”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing. You just seem like…well, like that would be kind of tame and boring for you.”

  He shook his head. “Uh-uh. Firstly, because tame and boring and sex with you don’t even belong in the same sentence. And secondly, I like it because I can feel all your skin, and the way your boobs smush just right against my chest, and you wrap yourself all around me so it’s like being one of those pig-in-a-blanket thingies, except it’s me wrapped up in Jenny pastry. And I can make out with you while we’re doing it, and watch your eyes get all drunk and happy-looking.”

  He reached over and took her spoon out of her hand, stealing another bite of ice cream. “Not that I don’t like wild and fun sex, too. Like, sometime I’d like to see you dress up as a slutty saloon girl with a corset and garters and fishnets and no panties, and bend over so I could fuck you from behind while I’m wearing nothing but leather chaps and a cowboy hat.”

  He handed the spoon back. “But missionary’s my most favorite.”

  As they were lying in bed after finishing the ice cream and trying out several positions on Xander’s list, he said, “I almost forgot. Don’t make any plans for next Sunday.”

  She bit his pec gently, then licked the spot. “Damn,” she said. “I had a date with Chris Hemsworth that day. Should I postpone it?”

  Xander growled. “Yes. Forever. No fucking of the movie stars. Don’t make me get strict with you.”

  “Mmm,” she said, making a circle around his nipple with her tongue. “Jealous?”

  “No, because his sexiness is as nothing, compared to mine. His dick is but a small twig, next to my mighty redwood. He probably farts when women go down on him. He—”

  “Okay, eeuw,” she said. “No more fart images. I’ll cancel Chris. What’s up?”

  “A seriously big surprise,” he said. “You’re going to love it. In fact, it’s so amazingly big I’m sending you away with the girls so I can set it up.”

  “Really?” Now her kitty curiosity was burning. “Give me a hint.”

  “No.”

  “What if I massage your back?”

  “No.”

  “What if I massage your redwood?”

  “Mmm… Noo…mmmaybe…oh. Ffuck…”

  Chapter 14

  On Sunday, Xander really did make Jenny leave the territory with Lissa and Caitlyn. “What am I supposed to do all morning?” she asked plaintively, as they stood at the head of the path by the main clearing.

  “I don’t know,” he said blankly. “Girl stuff. Eat brunch. Go shopping. Buy clothes. Get your nails done. Something. I have to get your surprise ready.”

  “But I want to know what it is,” she said, attempting to pout adorably.

  Xander narrowed his eyes. “No. And no sneaking back and peeking,” he added. He tried to sound stern, but ruined it by leaning in and smooching on her neck. “You’ll ruin it. And tell Caitlyn no fly-bys, either. I’m watching the airspace.”

  Damn. That had been her next choice.

  “Can’t I even have a little hint?”

 
“Not even if you stroke my redwood,” he said. “I have a will of iron.”

  “Bad mate,” she muttered. “You’re supposed to turn to moosh in my hands and give me everything I want.”

  “The surprise is something you always wanted,” he said. “You told me once when you were drunk.”

  She gaped at him. “You’re getting me something I said I wanted when I was drunk?”

  “You’re going to love it,” he said. “Now get the fuck out of here. Sloan and I have to make a run to the home reno store.”

  “I said I wanted home renovations when I was drunk? I don’t think so. Anyway, if you need supplies, why don’t you just steal stuff from one of Tank’s projects, like you usually do?”

  “I love that you know me so well,” he said, kissing her nose. “It makes me all squishy inside. Am I going to have to tie you up and dump you in the back of Tank’s truck so Lissa can drive you away? Because I will.”

  “If you tie me up, I’m sure you can think of better things to do with me than have someone drive me away.”

  Xander tipped his head back and groaned to the sky. “Woman, you are going to ruin me. Now I have a boner, and I’m probably going to still have it when I get to the home renovation store, because I’m not going to be able to get that image out of my perverted imagination.”

  Jenny just smiled at him. “Poor Xander.”

  “Wicked,” he said, pulling her behind the trunk of a large tree and pressing against her, making slow circles with his tongue right in the hollow of her throat. He slid his hand under her shirt and cupped her breast, running his thumb over the nipple. “I love wicked panthers. I might have to do the boingo with you right here, before I send you off with Lissa.”

  Jenny moaned.

  “Or not.” He pulled her shirt down, straightening it. “See you later, sexy. Think of me and my boner while you’re gone.”

  He strolled off, smirking.

  Evil. Evil, sexy mate. She was aching with wanting. She hoped this surprise involved lots of wild nakedness. If it didn’t, she was going to have to change the plan.