Avet, Danica - Ain't No Bull [The Veil 4] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Danica Avet

  * * * *

  Izzy helped Grant clean the kitchen even though it wasn’t her usual habit. Back at home, the men cleaned everything while the women trained and protected. She just couldn’t resist the chance to chat with him and find out more about him.

  “I have twelve sisters,” he said as he scrubbed a pan. “I’m actually the youngest of our herd, so they all think they own me. Their mothers, too.”

  That explained so much. “What about your mom? Is she this protective of her other children?”

  “I’m her only child. She was one of the first swans in the harem, but it took her a long time to conceive.” He let the water out of the sink and set to scrubbing it with a single-mindedness Izzy found amazing. Who knew cleaning sinks could be so interesting? “Dad hadn’t bonded with any of the others in the harem until I was conceived. After I transitioned, my stepmoms all moved away to join other herds since Dad couldn’t mate with them anymore. So now, the family is all Mom has since her friends left.”

  Izzy mused over Grant’s words. Bella had every right to be protective of her child. Great, now she felt like shit and she’d have to apologize to the heifer. She snorted.

  “How many swans does your dad have in his harem?” She knew they kept harems, she knew Grant would, and for some reason that really pissed her off.

  He paused to scratch the side of his nose. “He had five including Ma, but like I said she’s the only one left. He said he didn’t need more than that.” He shrugged and went back to scrubbing the sink. “My sisters and mom have been trying to get me to start my own harem for the last thirty years, but I wasn’t ready for that.”

  Shit, he was speaking in past tense. Izzy carefully stepped away and put the dishes in the cabinet. She didn’t want to think of him romancing some heifer, and she sure as shit didn’t want him imaging her as part of his herd. Amazons did not share well. At all. She wiped a hand over her face and shook her head. What was she thinking? He was driving her insane.

  “I think I’ll go unpack while you finish up,” she said, giving him a quick, empty smile. She needed to get away from him for a little while. Maybe she’d trek around the property some, see if there had been any attempts to get into Grant’s house. Sure, he was a security expert, but she was better.

  “Isola,” he called before she made it to the bedroom. Turning, she saw him leaning against the sink, arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t plan on having a harem.” He gave her a slow, sexy smile that made her nipples harden. “You’re more than enough woman for me, babe.”

  Chapter Ten

  Grant kept his smile in place as Isola stumbled into the guest room. Once the door closed, his smile fell and he closed his eyes, willing his hard-on to go away. Fuck, had she really asked him how minotaurs mate and bond?

  His cock leapt beneath his zipper. Yup, she had. He’d almost charged her then, had seen the fear of his reaction in her eyes, which had been the only thing stopping him. There was one very small, very important detail he’d left out, but it was his ace in the hole and if she knew about it, she’d run for the hills.

  He was almost positive she held the other half of his ring. Otherwise he wouldn’t feel this intense connection to her. Mentally rubbing his hands, he smiled.

  Someone knocked on the door, dragging him away from thoughts of what he wanted to do to Isola and how often.

  Ricky stood on his porch looking as frisky as a colt. Damned bear. Grant felt as though he’d gone a few hundred rounds with a badger.

  “I see our little missy hasn’t been making things easy on you.”

  Grant smiled without humor. “If you only knew,” he sighed, flopping into his easy chair. “She’s like a boulder going downhill: I don’t which direction she’s going in until she hits me.”

  Ricky chuckled. “I wanted to drop your truck off,” he said tossing the keys at Grant’s head. “The Bailey twins were about to take it for a spin when I came across them.” He turned to go. “Oh, and you might want to brace yourself, ’cause Aunt Bella called your sisters and the rest of the old harem to let them know about Isola. Oh, and she told your dad, too.” He laughed loudly. “Talk to you later, cuz.”

  Grant stared at his empty doorway, feeling panic creeping in. This wasn’t good. Oh, shit, this was worse than not good. This was a fucking disaster.

  His eyes shot to the guest room. If Isola responded to the rest of his family the way she had his mother, there would probably be a slaughter. He shuddered. He needed to keep her away from them until he could convince her he wasn’t as crazy as they were.

  He forcibly calmed his racing heart. They wouldn’t come over this very instant. No, they’d wait and make him think everything was fine. Then when he least expected it, they’d spring on him like four-legged ninjas. Grant scraped his hand through his hair. He’d have to up the timetable on seducing Isola.

  Gods, when he’d told her about minotaur mating, he’d seen the heat in her eyes. She might not want to be his mate, but her body wanted him almost as much as he wanted hers. It was his job to make her lust burn like a living flame. His mouth crooked up in a sly smile. He could do it. He’d been building his repertoire of skills for over a hundred years. He’d find whatever her weakness was and exploit it shamelessly.

  Stacking his hands behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling. His nostrils quivered. The scent of roses came from the direction of the window directly across from the recliner. His smile widened with wicked intent. He would make her regret telling that lie about taking a vow of chastity.

  * * * *

  Izzy saw the damned bull smiling at the ceiling. She’d slipped out of the guest room and snuck outside. She could have been halfway to Eustis by now, but she’d wanted to catch the bull in an unguarded moment.

  He was unguarded, all right, she thought as her mouth watered. Sitting in his recliner with his knees spread wide, she had an unfettered view of his crotch. And it was worth staring at, Izzy admitted as she pressed her thighs together. The man was thinking of something naughty because he had a hard-on that could shame a redwood.

  She watched as one of his hands left the back of his head and stroked down his wide chest. Izzy whimpered. She wanted to use her hands on him, then her mouth, taking the same pattern down his torso over the light covering of chest hair and that sexy arrow pointing right to the prize.

  Grant unzipped his jeans and there it was...the biggest, mouthwatering cock Izzy had ever seen in her one hundred fifty-something years. Her knees buckled and she had to grab the window ledge to keep from falling.

  Was he about to jerk off? Right there in the living room? Where some innocent Amazon could wander out and see? Her body flooded with heat. He was, oh gods, he was!

  She watched, mesmerized, as his big hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing slightly. The blue denim framed his erection like a present that had just been opened and was waiting for a little appreciation. She had plenty of that. His shaft was so thick, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to wrap her hand around him. The bulbous head was plump and wide. Veins ran the impressive length, making her tongue tingle with the need to trace each one. Her breathing quickened.

  Izzy was riveted as he stroked up once, a soft moan escaping his mouth. His face was still upturned, so she felt safe watching him pleasure himself. And boy, did he! Slowly at first, he stroked up and down in long, smooth motions until a bead of cum glistened at the tip of his cock. She licked her lips, imaging his taste would be salty, wild, and clean. Her fingers clenched on the wood of the window ledge, her fingernails scraping deep grooves into it.

  She saw Grant’s chest was moving faster now as he struggled to get air in his lungs even while his hand pumped more rapidly. Even through the glass she could hear his ragged breathing and the soft clicking as his hand moved up and down the sleek column of flesh. Izzy’s inner muscles clenched with want, soaking her panties through. She didn’t care. This was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen since, well, since Grant had come out of his bedroom w
ith just those jeans on.

  Suddenly, his hips arched off the chair, his body bowed out. “Isola,” he groaned as he came, thick, ropey strands of his seed spilling over his hand and stomach.

  He was beautiful, his skin damp from his exertions, the evidence of his lust coating him. He gave his gorgeous, still half-erect cock two last pumps before giving a loud, shuddering sigh.

  Izzy’s hand was on the window sash, ready to throw it open. She was going to take that man regardless of what was good for her. Her body was screaming for him, creaming for him, too, now that she thought about it. She was going to ride that bull until—

  His head lifted off the back of the chair, his eyes finding hers immediately. The smoldering satisfaction in his face had her inner muscles fluttering in a phantom orgasm. Shit. She felt like a gazelle in the sights of a lion. Grant’s tongue swept out, wetting his lips and Izzy repeated the action without conscious effort. Then, he smiled and winked.

  She gasped loudly, her head jerking back so fast she felt a sharp sting in her neck. The bastard had known she was outside the window! Her face went up in flames, or at least that’s what it felt like as she spun around. That bastard!

  She stalked away from the house, the heat from her lust and embarrassment leaving her comfortable in the freezing temperatures. That sneaky, horned bastard, she thought as she stomped to her car. He’d put on a show for her. She slammed the door and turned the engine over.

  The door opened and Grant looked out at her, his jeans still unbuttoned though he had fastened the zipper again. His blue eyes were heavy and sensuous, his cheeks flushed from his climax. Izzy stared at him through the windshield, not sure how she felt at this moment.

  Throwing the SUV in reverse, she tore off of his property like the hounds of hell were on her heels. As she squealed onto the road, she vowed to buy a camera in town because if he did that again, she wanted to be able to watch it any time she wanted to when she got back home. Shivering at the memory, a smile played around her lips. The minotaur was better than Skinemax.

  * * * *

  Izzy had passed through Eustis the night before, but it hadn’t made much of an impression. Glancing around as she drove to the bar she’d seen the previous night, she nodded to herself. It still didn’t make much of an impression. She would guess it was mostly Veilerians living in the area. So yeah, boring.

  It appeared to be a one-road town with all the businesses clumped together as though afraid of what was outside the city limits. Considering they had shifters, killer nymphs, and one badass Amazon in the area, the townspeople should be afraid. There was a small bank right next to the police station, which Izzy made sure not to stare at. That damn bear was there. She just knew it.

  Shuddering, she looked at the opposite side of the street. A diner, grocery store, and barber shop all shared one side of the road. The bar was on its own at the edge of town. The black sheep of the business district, no doubt. Although she hadn’t seen a church in the area, she figured there were probably some who didn’t approve of the townspeople imbibing.

  Thank the gods, it was open. Hopping out with all the exuberance of a kid on the last day of school, Izzy skipped into the bar and stopped dead in her tracks.

  Shifters were packed wall-to-wall. She recognized a few of them as wolves, a few others as mountain lions, but it was the biggest ones in the crowd she was leery of looking at. Izzy had always believed that shifters moved like their animal half. Wolves were silent and tended to lope a bit. The cat breeds slinked all graceful-like. The bears though, the bears should have moved like lumbering beasts, but they never did. Instead, they were quieter than the wolves and more graceful than the cats. In spite of their massive size in human or bear form, they managed to be sleek and deadly.

  All conversations stopped as heads turned to view the newcomer. Animal eyes gleamed at her in the dimness of the bar, raising the hair on the back of her neck. Self-preservation told her to walk out of the bar without taking her eyes off the crowd, but self-preservation was another one of those traits her tribe was trying to teach her. Luckily, none of her sisters were with her, so they couldn’t kick her ass for what she was about to do.

  Bracing her feet shoulder-width apart, she tucked her thumbs into her pants pockets with a grin. “Well now, no one told me Eustis had a petting zoo!”

  * * * *

  Grant sat at his desk checking over expense reports, or at least trying to. His mind kept conjuring the scent of Isola’s lust, which led his cock to demanding an immediate repeat of the morning’s activities, this time with her in attendance. Considering he’d jerked off twice more since Isola’s disappearance, he should’ve been well-sated for several hours, but no. Not him. The little Amazon’s scent was like an aphrodisiac. If he could bottle it, he’d never have to work again. Viagra would be obsolete.

  He wasn’t sure where she’d gone, but since none of his family had called him, he was certain she was just fine.

  The phone rang and a tingle of foreboding raced over his skin. He eyed the offending appliance. He didn’t want to pick it up.

  What had she done this time?

  The strident ring sounded again and with a heavy sigh, he answered.

  “Strickland.”

  Loud, raucous noise blasted at him. He recognized the howl of a few of the local werewolves, as well as the roars of the werelions. Oh gods, he thought.

  “Grant,” Ricky shouted over the noise. “You might want to come by Duffy’s.”

  The phone clicked and he was left listening to the dial tone. He shut it off and closed his eyes. She was at Duffy’s, the only bar in a thirty-mile radius of Eustis. Surely she hadn’t caused that much trouble, he thought as he threw on a T-shirt. She was a Veilerian, she knew the taboos, knew the rules. An image of Isola’s mischievous smile and the daredevil glint in her eyes had him cursing and shoving his feet into boots. She was going to cause a riot.

  * * * *

  By the time he got to the bar, Grant’s blood pressure was nearing critical levels. His brain was a jumble of likely and unlikely scenarios, and each one left his body in a cold, clammy sweat. He didn’t want Isola to alienate any of his neighbors since she’d be living here soon. At least, he hoped she would be. If she pissed enough people off, they might be run out of Eustis by a mob.

  He could hear the shouts before he even shut the engine off. With a furiously pounding heart and a dry mouth, he crossed the lot at a dead run. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. Sure, most of the people inside were people he’d known his entire life, but he wouldn’t let a single one of them lay a hand on Isola.

  Fear held him in its tight grip as he pulled the heavy steel door open and stepped inside the murky bar. The scents of at least four other shifter races filled his nose. Beneath that layer of scent was a sweet, musky rose. Isola was somewhere in here, he knew, but finding her by sight was nearly impossible.

  He’d never seen Duffy’s so busy, even when the Dog Ball League played. Had someone called in reinforcements when she walked in the door? Everyone knew Amazons were a little crazy and bloodthirsty. It wasn’t improbable. He peered over the heads of friends, searching, but couldn’t see her anywhere.

  Ricky stood in the corner, his great height affording him a view of the entire room and he waved Grant over. Pushing through the shifters, Grant muttered greetings and hurried along before anyone could draw him into a deeper conversation. Eustis was small enough that everyone knew everyone and felt they had the right to nose into each other’s business.

  “Where is she?” Grant asked without preamble as he came abreast of his cousin.

  The bear had a smile on his face that left an uneasy feeling in Grant’s gut. That was the same smile Ricky had worn the day he’d dared Grant to kiss one of old man Hollister’s daughters. Grant still had the teeth marks on his ass from that stupid stunt.

  “You’re just in time, cuz,” Ricky drawled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I didn’t know if you’d get here before the seats were all taken
.” He kicked a stool towards Grant who sat down with a grunt.

  “What the hell are you talking about? Where’s Isola?”

  His eyes strained to see across the bar, trying to delve through the throngs of people, but he didn’t see her anywhere. The main room of the bar was completely open, allowing the patrons space to shift if they needed it. Today that wasn’t the case. The shifters were packed shoulder to shoulder with more still pouring through the door.

  “What’s going on?” he shouted as the crowd suddenly roared.

  Following the turned heads, he saw one of the local werelions saunter out of the back of the bar. He thought her name was Lisa Ford, but wasn’t sure. He tended to steer clear of her since she had a reputation for brawling with anything that moved. Grant considered himself more of a lover than a fighter, and Lisa was the type of female who fought with everyone she met. Sort of like Isola.

  His heart stuttered and his eyes widened with sudden realization. “Shit!” He jumped off the stool. Now he recognized the anticipation hovering in the air. The crowd was waiting for a fight.

  Ricky’s baseball mitt of a hand grabbed Grant’s shoulder, pushing him back on his stool like a mother with a cub. “Now, you just sit here and watch the show,” the bear said easily. “The rules have already been established and both girls agreed to it. So just sit back and enjoy.”

  “Lisa fights dirty!”

  “And you think your little Amazon doesn’t?” Ricky shot back with a chuckle. “Grant, she walked in here like she owned the bar and started talking shit. She was aching for a fight, so Lisa’s gonna give it to her.”

  Just then Isola entered the main room which immediately erupted into boos and hisses. She’d shed her T-shirt and jeans, strutting out in a pair of leather pants and a leather halter top. Her hair lay in a single thick braid that swayed against her back as she entered the fighting ring.