Because that kind of woman would bore the pants off you, his subconscious taunted him.
“Where is it?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “In this apartment.”
“Fine,” he let out an exasperated breath. “Be that way.”
“I will. I am, in fact, that way.” She stood up. “So, I guess I’m going to unfold the sofa now. Why are you smiling?”
Jax laughed. “It doesn’t unfold.”
“But…it’s like a loveseat. It’s tiny. I can’t sleep on this!”
He shrugged. “Well, I’ve got this lovely hardwood floor…or my bed. My bed is very big, and very comfortable.”
“You don’t have a futon? A sleeping bag?” Her eyes widened.
“Nope.”
“You planned this.” She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.
“Of course. Why would I pass up the chance to get you into my bed?” He leaned back, smiling. Score one for Jax.
She sat down again, warily. “So you are saying that if I come sleep in the same bed with you, you’ll behave yourself?”
Jax burst into laughter. “Of course I’m not saying that. When did I say that?” He reached out and ran his thumb along the curve of her neck, up to her jaw.
“But you won’t behave either. You can’t keep your hands off me.” His voice was low and husky with desire.
“You arrogant son of a bitch!” He loved it when her eyes sparked like that. His cock was swelling in his pants again, aching for her.
“I’m arrogant for a reason. I’m told I’m pretty damn good.” She started to stand up, and he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into his lap. He let out a groan as her butt made contact with his cock, and tightened his arm around her waist.
“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want it too.” He stared at her, and she met his gaze challengingly, but didn’t say a word. She squirmed on his lap, trying to stand, but he held her in place easily, and she finally dropped her gaze and bit her lip, letting out a tiny whimper which set a raging fire racing through his nervous system.
“I might, potentially, find you sexually desirable,” she muttered finally. “But don’t let that go to your head. As you yourself pointed out, I’m a crazy woman.”
“That makes you even hotter.”
Suddenly, she looked up and looked him right in the eye. “I felt something strange the first time I saw you. And when I first looked you in the eye…”
Wow. She was going to talk about the elephant in the room.
“Yes. I felt it too. Unfortunately.” He looked up at her. “I’m not trying to be an asshole, Bobbi. It’s just – I’m not capable of having a normal relationship. I never have been. I’m moody, I’m temperamental, I’m a natural born loner, and I’ve never been able to fit in with any pack. If I met a decent woman, which you seem to be, the absolute best thing I could do for her would be to run far, far away.”
“Unfortunately, we’re stuck together for the course of this investigation,” she pointed out, shifting on his lap.
He let out a low strangled groan. Why did she have to keep doing that to him? “Yes, we are.”
“That feeling, was that…was it true what they say? The whole…fated mate thing? You can really tell immediately when you’ve met your fated mate?”
Jax looked at her, puzzled. “Weren’t your parents fated mates?”
A curtain slid down over her gaze. “I...My real parents died in a car accident when I was eight. And we’d moved to a part of the country where there aren’t many shifters, for my dad’s job, so I wasn’t ultimately raised by shifters. I’ve heard about the concept, but I never thought it applied to me. I didn’t even know if it was real.”
“Oh, it’s real all right. My parents were fated mates. Then my mother died, and my father went crazy.” The memory stabbed Jax in the heart, and he took a deep, painful breath. “That whole fated mate thing…it’s the worst thing in the world. It makes you weak. It makes you dependent on one person, and if you lose that person…it destroys you.”
Ugly memories of his father came flashing through his mind. When he was eight years old, his mother had died giving birth to Colt. His father had been a harsh, angry man even before she died, but that sent him over the edge. He’d descended into a vat of alcohol and self-pitying rage, and never climbed back out. Colt had been raised by relatives until he was five years old, because their father wanted nothing to do with him, and when Brick Mackenzie paid attention to his younger son at all, it was to beat and abuse him for the smallest infraction, real or imagined, and to let him know at every opportunity that he’d killed his own mother, and Brick wished he’d never been born.
As soon as Jax was old enough, he’d stepped in to defend his little brother, which just infuriated his father even more. There were many nights when Jax had fallen asleep bleeding, bruised, with his shifter powers slowly knitting his broken bones back together, after absorbing the brunt of his father’s rage. When he was 18 he’d moved out and taken his brother with him, leaving his pack who’d never lifted a paw to help because they were terrified of Brick.
And all because of love. All because his father couldn’t live without his fated mate.
“So we both have messed up pasts and want nothing to do with real love or a relationship,” Bobbi said, jerking him back to the present. “You know what? Good. That means we both want the same thing. Screw the fact that we’re fated mates. When this is over, we’ll go our separate ways and just…deal with it.”
Jax should have felt relieved at the thought of Bobbi leaving forever, but instead he felt a chasm of emptiness opening up inside him, yawning wide in the spot where his granite heart should be.
What choice do I have? I’ll do it, he told himself dully. I will leave when this investigation is over.
Suddenly, Bobbi had wriggled again, and now she was straddling him, pressed up against him. Her soft breasts were mashed into his chest, and the hard little buds of her nipples revealed her desire.
“You know what’s the best way to drown your sorrows and forget about the past?” she said, and leaned forward. She brushed her soft lips up against his, and lightning bolts of lust zapped through him.
“What?” He wrapped his arms around her, one arm on her waist, the other cupping her butt cheek.
“Sex. Mindless, kinky, no holds-barred sex.”
That was exactly the answer he’d been hoping for.
Chapter Nine
She was in a bed, and her head was way too foggy. She had no idea what time it was, or where she was, for several long, fuzzy moments.
Bobbi sat up, slowly getting her bearings. The room spun in slow, lazy circles and then settled down. Jax’s bedroom. Big picture of a Harley Davidson motorcycle, painted in neon colors, facing her. Black curtains, drawn, shade pulled down. A big wall clock adorned with deer antlers; Jax liked to hunt.
She looked around the room.…it was empty. No Jax.
She climbed out of bed and walked into the living room. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the kitchen. He wasn’t in the bathroom.
He was gone, and it was 9 a.m. She never, ever slept that late. Every day, without fail, her body jerked her awake at 5 to 6 a.m. and didn’t let her go back to sleep.
And she hadn’t drunk any alcohol last night, so there was only one reason that she’d have overslept and woken up with a fuzzy head.
Jax had brought her a bottle of water last night, during a break between one of their marathon lovemaking sessions. It had several slices of lemon floating in it. At the time, she’d thought it was just a thoughtful touch on his part.
Now she realized that the lemon was probably meant to disguise the taste of whatever Mickey Finn he’d slipped her.
That could only mean one thing.
She ran over to her suitcase and quickly felt around the tiny hidden compartment where she’d hidden the USB stick the night before.
Gone.
That son of a bitch. That bastard. She did
n’t know if she should be even more furious that he’d waited to drug her until after they’d had sex half a dozen times instead of drugging her as soon as she refused to give him the USB stick – or if she should be flattered.
That jerk. That douchebag. She was glad as hell that she hadn’t told him about Aurora last night. Now she knew never to reveal her full hand to him.
That asshole. That manipulative scumsucking pig. And what was even more infuriating was, that was totally the kind of move she should have pulled on him, first – but that bastard had beaten her to the punch.
Furious, she searched through her jacket for her cell phone – only to find the cell phone was gone, replaced with a note. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry, your phone is safe with me. I loved last night. Are you up for a repeat?”
So he was doing everything that he could to slow her down.
She kicked over his kitchen table, sending the plates set on it flying, and then ripped down his bookcase, scattering books everywhere. She picked up a vase and hurled it against the wall, where it exploded into pieces.
That fucking bastard! He was really, really good.
She ripped off her clothes, shifted into coyote form and attacked the couch, slashing cushions and tearing the leather from the frame. Stuffing rained down like snow. Howls of rage ripped from her throat.
Fortunately for her, she didn’t trust anybody and operated on the assumption that her phone could be stolen or hacked at any time. She had a photographic memory, so she didn’t need to keep a contact list, and the Enforcers had installed a special program on the phone which completely wiped clean all information after every phone call.
She shifted back to human form and got dressed faster than ever before, pulling on jeans, a t-shirt and a pair of low heeled boots in less than a minute. Then she quickly stuffed all of her clothes in her suitcase, slung it over her shoulder, and stomped off to find the nearest cell phone store.
Minutes later, she was dialing a number on her new, pre-paid cell phone.
“Pixie,” she said. Pixie, who apparently was not an early morning riser, mumbled incoherently into the phone.
“Wake the hell up,” she said. “We’ve got work to do.”
* * *
“Nice place,” Pixie said admiringly. It had only taken three cups of coffee, five cookies, an omelette, a stack of pancakes, and a cappuccino to get her awake and coherent. It was 10:30 in the morning, and Bobbi had been boiling with anger for the last hour and a half.
“Remember. We’re not here to steal. We’re here on a job. Professionals concentrate on the job at hand, and do not let themselves get distracted.”
“What about skank-ass hoodrats, like me?”
“Them either, if they want to get paid.”
They were in the wealthy section of Playa Linda, an oceanfront neighborhood of spotless sidewalks and sprawling, oversized mansions plopped onto acres of manicured lawn.
At the moment, they were standing in front of a building that looked like a stack of glass and steel cubes, a postmodernist structure that gleamed in the mid-morning sun.
They’d driven there in the rental car that the Enforcer’s Council had provided for Bobbi. They were sparing no expense on this investigation.
Bobbi and Pixie marched up the long paved walkway to the front door and Bobbi leaned on the doorbell with her thumb, not letting up until she heard footsteps pounding towards her.
The man who opened the door was stunningly handsome, with jet black hair and golden eyes. Panther, by the smell of him.
He wore a beautiful bespoke blue silk suit and shoes that appeared to be of buttery soft Italian leather, with silver buckles on them. He flashed Bobbi and Pixie a dazzling smile, a smile that would have melted the panties right off of lesser mortals. His teeth were blindingly white.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” his voice was low, rich and sexy. He purred more than spoke.
“Fuck off,” Bobbi informed him pleasantly. “I know for a fact that Jax is in your house. I want to speak to him. Right. Fucking. Now.”
“Don’t get on her bad side,” Pixie added helpfully. “You haven’t seen her when she’s pissed off. She’ll kick your ass.”
“Oh?” he quirked an amused eyebrow. “And what will you do?”
“Cheer her on,” Pixie said, smirking. “Maybe take some cell phone pictures and post them on Instagram.”
He sighed and turned to Bobbi. “So, you’re Jax’s Enforcer friend, Ms. Simpson. And you must be the thief. Pixie, is it?”
“Ooooh, he knows who I am!” Pixie lit up. “I’ve got a reputation!”
“I have a lot to teach you,” Bobbi said, shaking her head. “Like the fact that you do not want a reputation. You want to be invisible.”
Kenneth stood in the doorway for a moment, looking as if he were debating, until Bobbi let out a low warning growl.
Yes, he was a big guy and a panther could take a coyote, but when Bobbi was angry, she had the crazy eyes. She gave off the, “I will fight you until one of us is dead, and I will take chunks of flesh with me,” vibe. And she meant every bit of it. It was enough to make bigger, tougher shifters back down because they could easily sense the damage she’d inflict on them, even if they won.
He shook his head at her, and stepped out of the way. “I’m Kenneth Chamberlin, by the way. Pleased to meet you. Come on in,” he said, and led her down a very long hallway, to the right, down some more hallways, up some stairs…
Bobbi saw Pixie’s eyes shuttling from side to side, taking in all the priceless objects, the paintings, the vases on columns, the statuettes on shelves, and she shook her head at her in warning.
“I’m watching you,” the panther said, as if he had eyes in the back of his head “It won’t help,” Pixie said cheerfully. Bobbi nodded in silent agreement. When it came to theft, Pixie had mad skills. She would most definitely be leaving the house with something that didn’t belong to her.
They followed Kenneth down yet another hallway and into a room that overlooked the bay. The room was a giant glass cube that protruded from the house. The walls were glass, providing a stunning view of the ocean. A cloudless sky of endless blue stretched out forever, and the blue-green water wrinkled and swelled. White triangles of sails bobbed serenely.
The furniture in the room was industrial themed, with gleaming steel and black leather. Jax was sitting at a desk with another wolf shifter, a handsome, leanly-muscled man with glasses, and the two of them were intently looking over the massive screen of a computer on a gleaming ebony desk.
A third man sat on a black leather sofa near Jax, a muscular blond with a sexy scruff of a beard. Lion shifter. Hot as hell. He looked as if he lived in the gym. Bobbi saw Pixie’s eyes flick over him appreciatively.
Jax glanced up, startled. “I thought I scented you coming down the hallway, but I told myself I must be crazy,” he said, shaking his head. “How did you find me?”
“I never give away my trade secrets. Especially to people I can’t trust. You actually drugged me and went through my things, you fucking lowlife?”
“Oh, come on. You can’t be angry. We agreed last night that neither one of us trusted each other.”
“Did you tell her about me?” Kenneth asked Jax.
“Not by name, no.”
“The odds of her guessing that you’d be with me, and at this particular house, are pretty slim. And she didn’t follow you here. So I’m going to guess that she planted a bug either on you, or your motorcycle, at some point.” Kenneth looked maddeningly amused. Jax merely looked disgruntled.
The shifter who’d been sitting next to him stood up and walked out of the room.
“I didn’t think she’d wake up this early,” Jax said to Kenneth. “I must not have put enough sedative in her drink.”
“Shifter metabolism, you asshole. Of course it wore off fast.” Bobbi glowered at him.
The worst part of all this was, she was still incredibly turned on by him. Seeing
him sitting there in his sweatshirt and jeans, dark haired and dark eyed, with that sexy curve of his upper lip…her whole body ached from last night, and yet she wanted to grab him and rip his clothes off with her teeth. Easy, girl, she mentally instructed her vagina. He’s nothing but trouble.
Jax raised an eyebrow. “I actually gave you less than the recommended dose, because I was concerned about overdoing it.”
“Am I supposed to give you credit for that, you son of a bitch?” she hissed.
“Well, I was hoping so, yes. And maybe some sexual favors later.” Then Jax ducked as she heaved a glass paperweight at her head and it bounced off the wall next to him, leaving a dent and then crashing to the floor and shattering. “Too soon?”
“Hey!” Kenneth protested. “No trashing the place. Save that for Jax’s house; he’s the one who screwed you over.”
“I already did. And I’m not done. Not by a long shot.” She saw Jax wince. Hopefully he was picturing the damage she’d done. She was sorry she hadn’t taken more time to rip up every last piece of furniture in his house, but she’d been in a hurry to track him down.
Unfortunately she probably wasn’t going to get the opportunity to throw down right here, with a panther and a lion and another wolf in the same room with Jax. She bristled with anger. There’d be time for payback later.
The shifter with glasses came back in the room. “It’s not on the motorcycle,” he said, waving a small handheld device. Bobbi squinted at it quizzically.
“It scans for bugs,” he told her. “My own design. Tyler Witlocke, pleased to meet you.” He turned to Jax and held the device up high, starting at the head and slowly sweeping downward.
Pixie was wandering around the room, picking things up from desks and shelves and putting them back down again. Letter openers, fountain pens, an ipod, scissors… Kenneth watched her through narrowed eyes, as did the lion.
“Seriously, my little street thief, give it up,” Kenneth said, looking bored. “You won’t have any luck here.”
Suddenly, so fast that Bobbi barely saw her move, a letter opener flew from Pixie’s hand to land in the wall right next to Jax’s head. It stuck there, quivering.
The Alpha Meets His Match Page 10
