Shadow Lovers

by Jenny Penn

  “Yeah, sweetheart, you have the tightest fucking cunt I’ve ever taken for a ride,” he assured her, earning himself a giggle and a smile that only spurred Ryder on.

  He lavished Cookie with such outrageous compliments, twisting her moans into laughs, even as he drove those moans to a fever pitch. Finally she broke beneath the strain and began to beg and plead with him to make her come.

  Ryder was trying.

  The sweat built up between his shoulder blades as he strained to finish Cookie off, but it wasn’t until the beast rose up with his own inescapable release and sank its fangs deep into her shoulder that Cookie finally imploded with a scream.

  * * * *

  Down on the street below, Khal paused in his pacing as his ears twitched. He could have sworn that a woman had just screamed, but he wasn’t sure. Having super sensitive hearing helped in the wilds of the woods, but in the jungle of the city, with all of its many varied noises, the special gift was more of a hindrance than a help.

  So was Ryder.

  “This is taking too long.” Khal came to a stop with that declaration and pinned Travis with a foul look. “What the hell is he up to?”

  Travis didn’t answer. He just broke into a slow smile. Khal knew just what that meant. It meant he was a complete and total fucking idiot…and they needed a new coin.

  “Ah, son of a bitch!”

  Spitting that at Ryder’s captains, he ignored their snickers as he turned to storm across the street. He’d be damned if he’d just stand around while Ryder took their mate for a test ride. That wasn’t the deal. The deal had been about biting.

  Not fucking.

  Khal wasn’t sure what he was planning on doing besides putting an end to Ryder’s fun, but he didn’t get the opportunity to even do that. By the time he reached the door to their mate’s apartment complex, Ryder came whistling through it. There wasn’t any denying the smell that followed him.

  The man smelled like pussy.

  “Son of a bitch!” Khal roared, his fingers curling into fists that ached to be sent flying toward Ryder’s smug smile.

  “What?” He blinked all innocently at Khal, as if he didn’t have a clue as to what had Khal riled.

  “You know what!” Khal snapped back. “Don’t bother giving me those big doe eyes. I know what you did, and that wasn’t the deal.”

  “Like you’d have done differently?” Ryder snorted up a laugh. “Please.”

  Khal couldn’t argue that point, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed. “It still isn’t right.”

  Ryder rolled his eyes at that and took a step up to plant a kiss on Khal’s lips that had him stumbling back in shock at the very feel of the other man’s tongue. That just wasn’t done. Especially not in front of his captains.

  “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

  “Giving you a taste of what you missed out on,” Ryder taunted before strutting on by and leaving Khal simmering in his dust.

  Khal couldn’t deny the son of a bitch had tasted good, but now it was time for him to bleed a little. Khal smiled, enjoying that thought as he narrowed his gaze on Ryder.

  Chapter 4

  Cookie started, sitting straight up in her bed as if somebody had thrown a bucket of ice water over her. That’s exactly what she felt like, too. The cold dawning realization that something was wrong consumed her, leaving her momentarily unable to figure out just what was wrong. The truth hit her like a ton of a bricks the moment she moved, though.

  She’d had sex...with the tattooed hottie from the sewers!

  Assailed by the sudden rush of memories, Cookie crumpled back onto the bed as she groaned, grimacing at the throbbing ache echoing out of both her cunt and her shoulder. One was painful. The other needy. Whoever her tattooed dream lover was, he’d been good. Real good. The best she’d ever actually had, and what the hell did that say about her? Cookie didn’t know, but she did know she was going to find her mystery lover…that is, right after she left town.

  Cringing with that sour reminder, Cookie realized that she didn’t have the time to find her tattooed man and ask just what the hell was going on. She’d committed a very serious crime last night, and now was not the time to linger. It was time to flee.

  With that thought motivating her, Cookie reached for her nightgown and rolled off the bed. The moment her feet hit the ground, her legs threatened to give out. They were wobbly, the ache between them reminding her with every step just how hard she’d been ridden. Her mystery lover had been big and rough and better than good.

  Those thoughts weren’t helping.

  What did help was the gruesome sight of the bite on her shoulder when she stepped into the bathroom and caught her reflection in the vanity mirror. That damn stray dog must have bitten her. And where was that damn stray dog? The answer to that question was obvious. He was gone. Maybe her mystery lover had let him out.

  Maybe her mystery lover had been his owner!

  That thought had her going still as she considered the statistical likelihood that the tattooed man had trained his dog to open doors and let him into unsuspecting women’s apartments so he could give them a taste of paradise and then leave them wanting more… No, that was definitely not rational, but rushing to her cell phone and hitting redial wasn’t irrational.

  What was weird, though, was the message she got not a second later as a series of familiar bells chimed in a sequence Cookie recognized immediately. Still, she stayed on the line to hear the voice tell her what she’d already guess.

  “I’m sorry. The number you’ve dialed is no longer in service.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Cookie snapped, chucking her phone across the apartment in agitated pique.

  This was bad. Really bad.

  Maybe the tattooed man was an undercover cop…who made a habit of breaking into his marks’ apartments and seducing them while they slept? That made no sense, but however it sounded, Cookie needed to get moving, and she needed to get moving before her thoughts became even more ridiculous.

  Galvanized by both fear and a sudden overwhelming sense that she was being watched, Cookie rushed through her shower. She dressed and packed in just the same hurry and then cursed all the time it took to dismantle the computers and get everything broken down.

  Thankfully, Marvin was on schedule. They met up just as they were supposed to, without even meeting face-to-face. Cookie parked her car and took off, passing Marvin without a glance and knowing he’d take care of everything she’d left in the old rusted bucket of bolts.

  He’d left her a bike with the cash she needed to get the hell out of town. That’s just where Cookie aimed the front wheel. On the way, she stopped by an emergency clinic to get a rabies shot. They told her to come back for her next round, but she’d have to get it elsewhere because she was leaving.

  The last stop on her good-bye tour was an old storage facility that she’d hacked into months ago. Cookie had set herself up with a long-term unit where she’d stored her motorcycle and the camping gear she’d need as she cut across the country.

  For the next several months, the open road would be her home, the sky her blanket at night, her thoughts her own. That was the life she was looking forward to getting back to, but Cookie knew as she sped off down the highway there was only one thing she was really racing toward.

  Her mystery lover.

  He wasn’t going to remain a mystery. For the next nine hours, her mind churned, unable to let go of the mystery of what had happened last night. Mysteries and puzzles were her addictions, and this time, it was personal. Personal enough for Cookie to risk making camp near a cluster of cabins that evening.

  She’d managed to make it far out of town and up into the mountains. It was a spot Cookie knew well, having spent most of her youth in the Silver Grove Mountains. They formed a ring around a lake that was heated through the whole year by thermal jets buried deep in its floor. Those jets rumbled and grumbled, unleashing a roar that sent a heated spray of water spiraling straight up into th
e air.

  That was how Boomer Lake had earned its name.

  People came from all around to hear it boom, making tourism the number one economy for the area. That meant there were hotels, motels, and vacation rentals, and more than enough free Wi-Fi floating around that Cookie didn’t have to hack into anything. All she had to do was pull off the road onto one of the dirt tracks that cut through the forest. Taking it nice and slow, she rolled her bike right into one of her favorite camping spots near the local lodge.

  By then the sun had disappeared over the edge of the mountain peaks, making a fire Cookie’s first priority. It didn’t take her long to get one going in the ring of sand and stone already laid out for campers. Dinner followed, consisting of a can of tomato soup and a pack of cookies for dessert. After all of that, she was feeling nice and relaxed and more philosophical about the previous evening.

  Maybe it had all been a hallucination, a product of a drug she might have taken in her youth and ended up getting stored in her fat, which might have melted last night and released the potent effect of the drug back into her system. Cookie had lost a few pounds over the past few weeks. She’d heard about people relapsing as they lost weight because their drug of choice had gotten stored in their fat cells. She didn’t believe it, but she’d heard about it.

  Drugs, though, didn’t explain the bite mark on her shoulder. Instinctively, Cookie’s hand lifted to massage the ache that lingered there, even as the injury healed with amazing speed. That morning the doc at the clinic had assumed the bite was several weeks old. Two hours back, when she’d stopped for gas and a pee, she’d noticed that the bruising had all but disappeared, the incisions fully closed.

  It didn’t make any sense, but nothing did…unless, of course, she could still be tripping. If she was, then she might as well go take a dip in the lake’s heated waters. That sounded like a heavenly idea, sober or not.

  Forgetting about all her other concerns, Cookie dug out a towel and a bar of soap from the bag she’d packed that morning. Then she headed for a secluded cove she knew well. It was well hidden thanks to the tree line that swooped outward, almost connecting to form a perfect teardrop pool complete with a sandy beach.

  Cookie dropped her towel on the low-hanging limb of an oak and shed her clothes to go running down into the warm, welcoming waters.

  * * * *

  “What is she doing?” Khal whispered as he watched Cookie from the shadows.

  “I believe humans call it skinny-dipping.”

  Khal shot Ryder a dirty look for that snotty response. “I can see that.”

  “Then why’d you ask?” Ryder shot back, a smirk pulling on the edge of his lips that all but dared Khal to take a shot.

  As if he needed another excuse. The two of them had torn into each other in the alley, and all to no avail. Ryder was still a dick, and Khal was still stuck with him.

  Turning away from the sight of the man he couldn’t kill no matter how much he wanted to, Khal focused back on the woman he planned on loving forever. Forever started tonight.

  He’d thought that was going to be Mayla. She was Cookie now, but some things about her hadn’t changed Back three hundred years ago, she’d loved bathing in the lake’s heated waters just as much as he’d loved spying on her. Khal knew it wasn’t right, but there was something about the woman that made him not care. She was going to be his anyway.

  “She sure does look good wet and naked, doesn’t she?” Khal whispered that thought aloud as he tilted his head to watch the water glistening when it beaded and rolled down the silken strands of her dark hair, making the ends curl and cling to the graceful arch of her spine.

  Khal’s gaze dipped farther as he sighed with disappointment. The water came up to her waist, hiding the lush, plump ass that he so wanted to take for a ride. He wasn’t the only one.

  “Downright fuckable,” Ryder agreed, sounding more than wishful as he eyed Cookie hungrily. He studied her for a second before casting a lecherous look in Khal’s direction. “So? Why aren’t you fucking her?”

  “It’s called savoring the moment,” Khal shot back with full annoyance. He really wished the other man would just disappear, but Ryder didn’t do him the favor.

  “It’s called wasting time.” Slipping off the rock he’d been perched on, Ryder straightened with a stretch that had more than just his muscles budging at the seams of his clothing.

  “That’s just the kind of rushed and crass attitude I’d expect from a slut,” Khal grumbled with disgust.

  Everybody knew Ryder’s and his pack’s reputation. It didn’t matter if they were the richest pack around. They hadn’t earned any respect with all that cash.

  “Don’t worry.” Ryder smirked. “I’m willing to teach you what you don’t know.”

  “There isn’t anything you could teach me.”

  “Wanna bet?”

  No. Khal really didn’t. His silence said as much, which drew a chuckle from Ryder as he shook his head.

  “You’re too much, man, and I’m not going to wait all night for you to make your move.”

  “You’ll wait as long as I want to take,” Khal snarled, stepping back up to block Ryder’s path to remind him of one simple fact. “It’s my turn.”

  * * * *

  Cookie floated in the lake along with the bar of soap she’d brought. It was probably melting away, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything right then. It was hard to work up any enthusiasm to worry over anything with the warm water rippling around her like a sensuous massage. It felt as though she could have just floated away into an endless abyss of comfort and darkness, as if the shadows themselves were reaching out to stroke tender caresses down her body.

  Then they were gone, snapped away by the rumbling growl of a predator who was ready to brawl. Jerking back up to her feet so that the water lapped gently against her hips, Cookie shook her head as the menacing sound echoed out of the shadows of the forest.

  Before her eyes a massive beast began to take shape. It stalked forward, straight out of a nightmare…only it looked like the stray from last night. In this light, though, the beast looked more like a wolf than an oversized dog.

  That didn’t make any sense at all. Cookie figured it didn’t really have to right then because, whatever it was, it was pissed and threatening. Worse it was eyeing her as if she was its next meal.

  It was time to flee.

  Only there was nowhere to run, but there was some place to swim. That thought had Cookie glancing back over her shoulder as she considered how far she’d have to swim to make it to safety. By the time she turned back to check on the wolf’s position, he’d already turned to snatch up the pile of her clothes.

  The large beast began to thrash them about in a less than reassuring motion. Before her rounded and shocked gaze, the wolf stepped down on the tattered edges of her clothes so that it could rip them into strips. That was definitely the signal to flee.

  The signal to stand there and to continue to gape came not a second later as a man built for long, hard rides, and moving with a grace that promised he knew how to keep rhythm, bolted out of the trees. He charged toward the wolf, yelling at it to get. Damned if it didn’t obey.

  Cookie was double damned because this stranger looked shockingly familiar. Bigger, broader, and a whole hell of a lot meaner looking, there was no denying that this man was related to her mystery lover. They had the same tattoos. The dark lines of the tribal designs curving and highlighting the thick, ripped cut of his muscles were almost identical to the man’s from the tunnel last night.

  More than that, Cookie could have sworn that those tattoos were moving, shifting, forming new designs as the man turned a glowing, feral gaze on her. It was in that moment that Cookie realized that she was in trouble. Serious trouble.

  Two nights, two dogs, two tattooed wet dreams strutting right into her life, it couldn’t all be a coincidence…but it could be a setup.

  That thought darkened Cookie’s mood as the man turned
around and locked his gaze on her breasts. She probably should thank him for rescuing her, but Cookie couldn’t escape the thought that this was all staged. She took that possibility very personally.

  “Do you mind!” Cookie crossed her arms over her breasts, breaking his stare.

  Cool, gray eyes darted up to meet her gaze, and she sensed his shock at the sharpness of her words. Cookie pressed that advantage, even as she sunk deeper into the water, ready to dive toward freedom at any second.

  “Go on! Get!” she hollered at him just as he’d hollered at the wolf, and damn if the man didn’t get.

  That was the most shocking thing of the day.

  * * * *

  Khal stormed through the forest, muttering to himself and simmering over the humiliation Cookie had just handed him. She’d shooed him off like a damn child. It wasn’t as if he had a choice in obeying. She was his mate. Her every wish was his command, and Ryder, that bastard, knew it.

  He’d no doubt known how his little joke was going to end—with Khal in Cookie’s shit house. He’d been set up, and to add insult to injury, he found the son of a bitch rolling around on the ground as he all but howled with laughter. Khal came sulking through the woods, his male ego already raw, and his annoyance with both his mate and the idiot he’d gotten stuck sharing her with was high.

  High enough that he didn’t hesitate to walk right up to Ryder and use the flat of his foot to shove the man face-first into the thick stalk of a gigantic pine. The blow didn’t land hard enough to shut the fool up, and, no doubt, Cookie could hear the racket he was making.

  Khal had to wonder what she thought of that. If she had any sense, she’d flee, but then she hadn’t shown much sense down by the shoreline. Cookie had wasted her time yelling at him when, by rights, she should have been swimming away in fear. The sheer audacity of a woman that small challenging a man his size made the desire boiling in his balls flame higher.