by Scott, Talyn
To his credit, Jayce didn’t make a face at that. “Where’s Renee’s room?”
“She’ll crap on everything in there.” Tatum argued, but he strode down the hall, determined.
Jayce could easily scent Renee’s room, but he had to keep up the deception in front of Tatum. “This must be it.” He chuckled. “I see a few felines on the bed.” With a gentle toss, he pushed Sugar Baby inside the door with a low growl of warning.” She plopped down and immediately slept.
“She growled at you.” Tatum shook her head.
Jayce hid his grin. Tatum could be confused about who growled at whom, for now. “Let’s have a little chat.” He led her to a couch covered in cat fur.
Jayce turned around and stared down at Tatum. Without a word, he grabbed her elbow and pulled her back against his chest.
Chapter 5
Try as he might, Jayce hated cats. He would never harm one, as he respected all animals and contributed financially to worthy causes to protect them. However, sitting in a house full of them and their fur made him want to snarl. Not to mention, he was not leaving his future mate in such an inhabitable dwelling and dangerous neighborhood.
“Tatum, I can’t leave you here.” He started and watched her bristle.
Rubbing her hands down her face, she blanched and picked cat hair out of her mascara. “And why not?” she blinked a couple of times to clear her vision.
He looked disgusted, “You just had to pick fur out of your eyes, and you have the nerve to question my motives?”
“I admit to being embarrassed, but I never invited you in. You barged in, just as you’ve always tried to do. Besides, this is not even my house, and I’m leaving tomorrow night. Thanks for catching Sugar Baby,” even though you allowed her to escape. “I’m going to bed.”
“It’s nine thirty,” he countered.
“I told you that I was tired, and I have to pack.” She was also hungry. On cue, her stomach grandly protested.
He heard it. Even if he were not a Were, he still could not have missed that. “You didn’t eat at the reception.”
“No.”
“Because of me,” he gathered.
“Maybe,” she shrugged.
Not only his etiquette, but also his beast called to provide for her. “I stand by my earlier declaration; you're not staying here. In fact, you’re not leaving tomorrow.” With that, he followed her scent trail, lifted himself off the hair-laden sofa, and headed towards the room that she had slept. After locating her suitcase, his nose led him to everything that belonged to her, and he shoved in the remaining items. He did not care if they were folded, cleaned, dirtied, or if bottles were spilled in his recklessness. No, it wouldn’t matter, because she wouldn’t be wearing or using any of it any longer. It was a pretense that she could have her stuff as she left. He would replace everything and then some. The chintzy fabrics and discount store cosmetics would be a thing of the past, just as Troy Hillman was.
“What… are you doing?” She gasped and held on to the doorframe. Her knees were buckling at his audacity.
“Something I should have done years ago.” He gripped the suitcase handle and put his shoulder into her middle. With one easy scoop, he hoisted her - caveman style, as he walked out of the house. Mentally, he locked the doors, windows and released the bedroom door. The animals needed to have a free range. As she struggled and screamed on his shoulder, he realized, even in this neighborhood, someone might call the authorities. With great reluctance, his mind entered hers and put her to sleep.
Jayce was not concerned with his limo driver, as he was a pack member. “Take us to the Sanibel property.”
“Of course, Sire.”
Jayce phoned Renee, “Hello, little sister.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“A secret, for now,” he teased light-heartedly.
“You’re a cryptic weirdo, but I like the cash,” she laughed.
“Tatum is staying with me, tonight.” No need telling her that she would never leave.
“Why isn’t Tatum calling me?” Nervousness laced her voice.
“Because, she didn’t feel as she needed to call you at all, considering that she is past thirty, and you are not her Mother.” That should do it.
She huffed. “That’s not what I meant. I just wanted to know that she was okay. Her business is still her business.”
“Exactly, since she wasn’t going to be responsible and call you, I did it for her. Simply, out of respect for you,” he winced at the blatant lie.
“Goodnight.”
“Later,” he snapped his phone shut and snuggled Tatum against his chest. He was tempted to mark her while she slept, but didn’t. Fighting the urge, he leaned back against the leather and thought about his future. In his mind, he saw a happy Tatum and a house full of kids. In addition, was a rebellious Tatum that would fight him tooth and nail. Fortunately, the wolf inside of him liked that…a lot.
“You did what?” Bren was snapping like an alligator. As an Alpha, Bren should not have questioned Jayce. As his best friend, he did question him.
“She’s with me at the Sanibel property. In fact, she’s in the middle of my bed.” Jayce was reluctant to say that she was still asleep, with a little help from his beast. “I’ll send the limo for you.”
“I don’t need a fucking limo with the way that I’m feeling right now. I need to change and take a run. If you mark her…so help me, Alpha or not, I’ll kill you.”
“Not taking kindly to your threats, my man.”
“A promise,” he threatened again.
“Relax, I haven’t marked her,” Jayce laughed at the answering dial tone. Glancing at his watch and outside at the clear weather, he figured Bren would be approaching in half the time a drive would take, approximately ten minutes.
Inhaling deeply, his werewolf memorized the scent of her body. Just as it did when they were teens, Tatum’s scent enveloped him and ingrained itself into his soul. He felt the pacing of his wolf, back and forth, in his head.
Again, settle down.
He heard the answer, a resounding growl that bounced inside his skull. His beast was tired of waiting for a mate, waiting for Tatum. He was too young to know what she was at the time, when he was a teenager. Unequivocally, she was the one: his soul mate, breed mate, and future queen of the pack. A werewolf by birth only had one chance at a mate. Sure, he could fuck anyone that he had wanted before he mated with her. He had. Problem was he could not breed with anyone but Tatum. Unfortunately, neither could Bren.
However, breeding was not the crux of it all. He was in love with her, and she wasn’t in love with him. If that weren’t enough, Bren was in love with her, too. Nature wasn’t cruel, since multiple mate relationships could work. These relationships had repeatedly proven successful over centuries. The problem was convincing Tatum. Since she didn’t even know about werewolves, how could he and Bren persuade her to devote the rest of her life to them both? To top it all off, they were both unarguably domineering.
Walking to the sliders, he sent a mental command for them to open against the Sanibel nightline. The ocean was rough, and the salt air, alongside the night-blooming jasmine, invaded the room. Of course, he still smelled the enticement of his mate a mere ten feet from him. It would not matter what filled the air, he would always be able to track her miles and miles away after he drank from her.
Claws hit the balcony, and Bren appeared before him. His wolf, much like Jayce’s was seething at the surface - ready to claim his mate. His eyes lit possessively on the gift that centered the bed: a beautiful woman with a hellcat of a personality.
“You said you were changing the plan.” Bren’s voice graveled. He was in mid-transformation. His beast glowed in a silver mist over his body, allowing a half man, half beast appearance. Much like the manifestation, he would have to take on the full moon to breed with a mate.
“You’re getting too far ahead of yourself.” Jayce motioned to Bren’s appearance.
Bren brought himself to human form. “So, what’s the plan?”
“First, put some clothes on.”
“You’ve seen me naked for years.” Bren rolled his eyes, flashed jeans, and a tight black t-shirt over his Adonis inspired torso.
“I don’t want to wake her when you’re in the nude. She’ll run screaming after she takes a look at it, or she’ll think we’re lovers.”
“That’s absurd…at least the ‘us as lovers' part since I’m not attracted to you.” Bren could not deny the monster hidden in his pants. He inhaled and moved towards the bed, towards her. “Think fast, I’m losing my battle with the beast.” Bren had fisted his hands, both sides, and was restraining his wolf against taking Tatum.
“You smell it.”
“Hell, is my nose broken? Sure, I smell it. She’s about a week away from being fertile.” With relish, he closed his eyes and flared his nostrils.
“That’s what I thought,” Jayce glanced upwards, as he studied the moon, “that puts her ovulation approximately on full moon.” He tightened his hands on the railing and steadied himself. “Let’s get started.”
“Let’s,” Bren’s blue eyes, much like Jayce’s, flared with possessiveness that was strictly reserved for immortals. No human could understand the depths of emotion that an immortal had for its prospective mate. It would be difficult to comprehend how the couples would stay together for centuries and still love and want, but it always worked, always happened. The feelings ran deep and strong. Beyond love, mates were compatible in everything and every way.
A basket materialized next to Bren.
Jayce studied it. “Is that the sex toy basket from the …wedding?”
“One of many,” Bren’s mouth curled in anticipation.
“We can’t spring that on her. She’s been held back sexually. Do you remember everything that I told you over the phone? She had a selfish husband and was tortured mentally as well as physically. If I ever get my hands on him….”
“Agreed, he’s dead.” It was a matter of fact statement, and Bren didn’t blink. “I’m not pulling all of this out, just a couple of things…starting with these.” A grin lit his lips. On the end of his finger, he swung pink fur-lined handcuffs.
Jayce returned the grin. “They look a little flimsy.”
“You think she’s that strong?”
“No, but she’ll be that angry. Our little hellcat has quite the temper and adrenalin increases strength.” Jayce turned with a crooked grin. “What about starting with a slow mind-altering seduction? Hide the handcuffs and the basket under the bed. I’ll meet you back on the balcony.” Jayce gathered Tatum into his arms and headed for the cushioned chaise lounge. They could use some time to rejuvenate under the moon, and they could gently break the news to Tatum, or so he hoped.
“Wake up sleepy head.” He placed a call to his house servant to prepare a meal. Tatum was hungry more than an hour ago. Jayce was her future mate; it was his responsibility to feed her.
Tatum brushed the hair from her face and glared at the night sky. “Where am I?”
“You must have slept hard if you don’t remember being brought here.” Okay, so he didn’t want to lie, but the truth would come later.
She tensed and pushed at his chest. “No. I do not remember coming here, and I definitely do not remember cuddling next to you on this chaise. Back off.”
“Relax.”
She had to laugh. “That word has been overused by the male population.” She scrunched her brow in thought. “You threw me over your shoulder like a Neanderthal and brought me here.” She punched his chest, hard, and tried to stand.
He was not having it. “Unless you need your buns warmed, no hitting. I don’t punch you, and you don’t punch me, agreed?”
She was exasperated and ignored the buns warmed comment. “How did I fall asleep?”
“You drank too much at the reception.”
“I don’t drink.”
“You must have,” he shrugged.
She was not placated. “Where are we?”
“We’re at my estate on Sanibel Island. I thought you would enjoy it a lot better than that crap-hole your sister calls a residence.” The moonlight shimmered through his blond hair and cast a shadowed relief onto his face.
He was gorgeous. Tatum could stare at him for hours and not be bored. But then again, so could many other women. He should know; he had been with them all. She swallowed hard and was unnerved, confused and soaked in all the wrong places. How had he accomplished it? Just like the years before, he could get her hot and wet simply by his proximity. “So,” she gestured with her hand, “one of your many love nests.”
“I’ve haven't brought a woman here for sex.” Little did she know that he wouldn't have brought her into a home where he had taken another female; in fact, sexual escapades were not allowed on his properties. He would never taint them before he brought his mate home.
Everything was hers and hers alone. Without another word, he cupped her cheek and brought his lips to hers.
His kiss was possessive, knowing, and consuming. Like a punch to her core, he steam rolled her body with a simple caress. That’s how it started. Until her body began to melt. It had been so long. So much time had passed since she had wanted to kiss someone. So many years had flown since she had wanted to kiss Jayce. Yeah, with no hesitation, she gave it all back. The kiss, the caress, the warmth and…did she just moan? She was a wanton stranger, a slut that had no shame. Following the footsteps of those that have gone before her, she traveled across the slippery slope of Jayce Jordan. She was melting, creaming, dizzying and moaning onto his body. Damn, but wasn’t he skillful with his hands?
He savored her. Her kiss was better than he imagined, and he had fantasized about it almost daily for more than a decade. Never thinking it would be this easy to seduce her, he reached for her breast. Their breaths mingled, sweet and hot, as he lowered his head and placed his mouth over her covered, beaded nipple. More than a mouthful and a handful - he had large hands. Jayce was incredibly pleased, because he loved full breasts. He didn’t care for the fake ones that stood straight up when he had a woman flat on her back, no they wouldn’t do. He wanted real breasts, natural, large breasts, the ones that slid to the sides when a woman lied down. The ones that bounced heavy from side to side and drooped when he stared at them and caused them to swell. His mate had these. He scented none of that silicone nonsense and palmed the heaviness in his hand.
Perfect.
It was time to explore.
His mouth was hot. Tatum sucked in a breath of bewilderment. How far would she allow him to go? She had so many things to worry about, although, now, none of them came to mind. She was too confused, too horny. She clutched the silky strands that covered his head, always wanted to touch them. He inched his way back up to her chest and sucked on the sensitive tendon of her shoulder, where the crease met the neck. All the while, his hand never left her breast, and the other one came out to play. Lightly flicking both nipples with his thumbs, he whispered against her mouth. “You are unbearably beautiful. I need you. I’ve needed you desperately. Don’t say no.e="C Never say no to me, please.” It was a desperate plea. Even though she didn’t believe the sincerity in it, she still considered it. Why shouldn’t she enjoy a one-night stand? She had been with only one man in her life: Troy Hillman, dickhead extraordinaire. Although, monogamy was commendable and necessary in marriage or a committed relationship, Troy had lied, cheated, and stolen everything from her from the beginning of their relationship, before any marriage started. Now she wasn’t married or in a relationship.
With not so much reluctance, she could use Jayce. Not because she believed that people should be used, no, not at all. He used others, and it wouldn’t matter to him in the morning since he was using her as well. This was his thing, his existence. In the aftermath, when they faced each other, they would be on the same page. They would be two people that got together for the night and made love, well lust. In all hopes,
she would have an orgasm, since she desperately needed one.
Her need pummeled her shyness. The shyness was overrated, and need won. “Fuck me, Jayce.”
He slowed, “What?”
“I’m not repeating it.” She shook her head, placed both hands on the sides of his face and delivered a kiss that would have drowned a sailor. Moving her palms across the front of his chest, she memorized every hard plane. Muscles were in abundance as Jayce dedicated many hours to the care of his body. She would do anything to have him in her now, anything. “Hurry,” she pleaded.
Sure, his werewolf wanted him to hurry; however, one thing gnawed at him. She had said, ‘fuck me’. Why did that bother him? He had said that to women, women had said that to him, but they did not matter. Tatum did. He kept his ministrations on her breasts and gazed over at Bren. He was in the shadows behind a potted palm with a look of concern that etched his face. It bothered him, too.
