There was another minor complication to consider, too. While he was already in awe of his mate, perhaps even loved her in his own way, she probably didn’t feel the same way about him. At least not yet.
Randon focused on Pageant, completely certain of her place in his life. She watched him as well. For the first time since meeting her, Randon noticed a profound difference in the detective. She was frightened.
“I haven’t slept,” she said, perhaps blaming her shaken state on her overworked status. “Sheriff, I’ll take a few hours and be back as soon as I can.”
He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “I’ll let you know if anything develops.”
Kurt stepped forward. “Sheriff McKinney, use us. We’re here. The Feds won’t be here anytime soon.”
They wouldn’t be there at all.
“They’ll arrive in the morning.”
The others exchanged knowing glances before Kurt said, “No, Sheriff. They won’t.”
“Do you fellas know something I don’t? If you do, one of you better start talking.”
“Kurt, tell him what you know.” Randon narrowed his eyes on Pageant, detecting her fatigue, harboring it as his own. “I’ll see Detective Keen home.”
“I don’t need—”
“Don’t argue with him, Detective.” The sheriff studied Randon as if he were memorizing everything about him. He then turned his attention to Pageant once more. “We have thirty-two dead citizens and a hospitalized deputy. I think it’s safe to assume we were ill prepared for whatever it is that has plagued this town.” He focused on Kurt. “If what you’re telling me is true and the Feds don’t show up here tomorrow then I’ll have no other choice but to deputize a few of you.”
Kurt grinned. “You hear that, Randon? The sheriff is ready to make an honest man out of me.”
Chapter Eight
As Kurt had suggested, the sheriff made an honest man out of him, more or less anyway. Randon possessed similar ideas for the woman beside him.
Pageant lived a couple of miles outside of town. Randon hadn’t watched his rearview or side mirrors as he’d driven her home. There was little need. He’d been followed by a quad pack, a group of four riders tailing him in a tight formation. All four trackers had mates of their own. They were steadfast in their commitment to their women and their club.
If anyone understood Randon’s growing angst, the guys behind him could relate to his explainable anxiety. A bachelor for thirty years, Randon used to be “that guy” who smirked at the others when their old ladies called them home. He’d never been one to envy the guys with mates. He’d always enjoyed his freedom. He glanced at Pageant. Now, he couldn’t imagine a life without his chosen one, without the woman who would soon be cradled against his chest and curled up in his arms.
Killing the engine, he surveyed the area while the others left their bikes and walked the grounds surrounding Pageant’s cottage-style home. Mac, one of the older guys, pecked on the glass and Randon rolled down the pump-style window. “Clear?”
“He’s been here.”
“What?” Pageant was suddenly alert. “How do you know?”
“It’s our job to know,” Mac said, acting annoyed.
Pageant looked as if she were ready to pound them both with a few dozen questions. Instead, she said, “Is it safe to go in?”
Randon waited for Mac’s response. He scoured the hills behind her house as if he expected the extortionist to show himself. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know, man. If she were my old lady, I’d get the hell out of here.”
“Your old…wait a minute.” Her gaze hopped between them. “You surely don’t think I belong to him. We just met.”
“I’m not paid to think, lady. I’m paid for fast action.” Mac pounded his fist against the top of the vehicle and backed away. “Get inside, man. Lock the doors. We’ve gotcha covered out here.”
“I appreciate it, brother,” Randon said.
“I know you do.” Mac joined the others already standing post in Pageant’s front yard.
“Let’s go.” Randon grabbed her hand and pulled her across the bench-style seat before she could protest. Still, he could’ve sworn he detected a muted, “but” in there somewhere.
Less than a minute later, they were inside the front hall in her quaint, sparsely decorated home. He couldn’t help but absorb the interior. It was homey and unique. Built-in bookshelves lined the short hallway leading to the kitchen. He followed her there and stopped short when she whipped around like she’d suddenly caught her second wind. “What have you told them?”
“Who?”
“The guys out there.”
“Why does it matter?”
She shrugged. “In the broad scheme of things, it doesn’t. We’re working on a big case and petty, insignificant details like what you might have said about me to your biker pals shouldn’t be important.”
“Exactly.”
“But they are.” She dropped her purse on the table and placed her hands on her hips. “Enlighten me.”
His gaze drifted up and down her uniform-clad body. At five foot seven, she wasn’t exactly short, but her curvy form next to his six-foot-three muscular frame looked small and fragile. And as much as he’d like to “enlighten” her, he had better ideas about how he’d like to pass the time.
“Why do you feel comfortable with me?” He couldn’t help but ask. Surely she wouldn’t have opened up her home to a complete stranger if she hadn’t felt some sort of connection.
“I’m not sure.”
“Do you entertain here often?” He glanced around the small breakfast nook and wondered how many men had woke up to a hot breakfast, perhaps even watched her with lust-ridden eyes as she’d whipped up some omelets or maybe flipped a few pancakes. When she didn’t respond, he added, “Let me rephrase.”
“Please do.” She stood her ground. “Because that’s none of your business.”
“I disagree.” He took a step forward. Then another. And then one more. “It’s my business now, Pageant.”
Her lips parted, but only a whimper escaped them. Her eyes softened and her tight facial muscles relaxed. “I don’t.”
“You don’t?” He released a deep breath, thankful he wouldn’t need to take names, ask for numbers, and kick of few asses. He didn’t want anyone to touch what belonged to him. He didn’t want her to have a past with other men. If she had one, she’d better damn well hide it because if he ran across a man who had touched what belonged only to him, he couldn’t be responsible for his actions.
“I don’t entertain men.” She forced a smile. “There’s a reason for that.”
“You work a lot.”
“You got it.” She clucked. “And I’m a lesbian, but I’m sure you already figured that one out on your own.”
He was unmoved. “Lesbian, are you?” Her scent was driving him mad. He stepped into her, looped his arms around her middle and pulled her against him.
“Where do you think I learned how to kiss so well? Men don’t take the time to kiss a woman like they should.”
“Then you’ve been kissing the wrong men.” He framed her face and stared into her eyes before he delivered one of many kisses to follow. He slipped his tongue through the seam of her lips and fluttered it across hers. When their mouths parted, he trailed another few kisses to her ear where he whispered, “And I’ll kick a woman’s ass as quickly as I will a man’s when it comes to you.”
“But—”
He placed his fingers over her lips. “Just go with it, Pageant. Believe it. Own it. Soon everything will make sense.”
She locked her arms around his neck and whimpered as he lifted her to him. His cock thrummed in his slacks. His rigid length pulsed with agonizing sensations as he sat her on the counter, certain if he placed some physical distance between them the mating call wouldn’t be so fierce, nearly impossible to deny.
“So how does a man go about seducing a woman who is only interested in women?” He
kissed a trail to her ear and breathed softly at her lobe, nicking and tugging at the flesh until he was more aroused than the moment before.
“Keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll consider breaking my code.”
“Your code?”
“To only sleep with women.”
He didn’t care if she slept with a damn teddy bear. “I’m starting to believe there’s something to this lesbian thing.”
“Would you like to hear the truth?”
His cock jumped. If she thought girl-on-girl action would turn him off, she missed the part where he rode with a motorcycle gang. He’d been to rallies where he’d seen plenty and he thought it was hot as hell. “If you’re trying to steer me in another direction, you’re taking the wrong approach. I like watching women—with each other or other men.”
She grimaced. “I had a bad relationship and swore off all men.”
“You had.” He liked the sound of that, too. “Past tense still in play, I guess?”
“Yes. After a bad breakup and few possible options in this town, I decided I’d probably have more in common with women so I…” She fidgeted.
“You…slept with a woman?”
“No,” she replied, looking defeated. “I tried. It was disastrous.”
“Wait a minute.” He chuckled. “You’re serious?”
“Absolutely.”
“Did you like her or—” He didn’t know how to feel about that because he’d never kicked a woman’s ass and he was already pumping so much obsessive testosterone he’d convinced himself he’d have to brawl a man or two to win his woman’s favor. So much for the ass-stomping.
“I’m pretty sure it was the ‘or’ if you know what I mean.”
“Bi-curious?”
She laughed. “Not really.”
So she’d definitely had a humdinger of a relationship and swore off men, just like she’d said. He scratched his forehead. “Do you want to talk about this now?”
“Not really.”
“Good.” He was relieved. This was starting to feel weird.
She gently swayed her hips back and forth and watched him. “You giving up on me, wolf?”
Completely taken aback, he jerked. “Wolf?” How did he respond now? Prior to arriving at her home, he’d thought about how he’d explain his abilities. He’d meant to spend a great deal of time reassuring her while stressing how important she was to him and the pack, to his entire brotherhood.
“I know what you are. I know what you think I am to you. That’s why I told you that story.” She wagged her finger at him. “You should’ve seen your face. If I had to guess, your packmaster hasn’t exactly gone over how to consummate a relationship with someone who isn’t—for the lack of a politically correct phrase—interested in fucking a male.”
He stroked his lip with his thumb, considering why she’d wanted to play games. The answer was simple enough.
Pageant was scared. She knew what he was. She understood what she would soon mean to him and what they’d mean to one another. The diversion was a means to postpone the inevitable.
“It won’t hurt, Pageant.”
“I’m not worried about pain.” Her blue eyes glistened like large raindrops. “I’m worried about the other part.”
“What part is that?” He held her closer, preventing that teasing sway.
“I’ve always prided myself on being a strong, independent woman. I take care of myself, but in your presence, I just want to…” she paused, looked at the ceiling and shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say here.”
He cupped the side of her face and stared into those entrancing eyes. “You don’t have to say anything at all.”
“But I do.” She gripped his forearm with both hands. “I want things from you that I shouldn’t want. I need to give you a part of myself that I’ve never given to another.”
“Mates,” he whispered, feeling this overwhelming urge to claim her right then. In the past, he’d lived by the motto of “cheap talk gives a girl time to walk” but now, this was different. He didn’t just want Pageant’s body, he wanted to look into her eyes as he fucked her and know with absolute certainty that she belonged to him. He longed to feel her pussy gripping him as he nicked her skin and took the wolf’s bite, embedded werewolf fangs in her neck and made her one of them.
“It’s more than becoming your mate, Randon. I need to please you.” She took a deep breath. “I should be terrified. I’ve never wanted to please anyone in my life.”
His body temperature spiked. His pulse raced. “What if I told you, I’m already pleased?”
She blushed. “But—”
“I’m drawn to you.” He moistened his lips and dipped his head for another kiss. “I’m already obsessed with you.” He kissed her passionately, his tongue sweeping over hers in a slow, set rhythm. When their lips parted, he added, “I want to take care of you, Pageant.”
“That’s just it. I don’t want you to just take care of me. I want you to dominate me.” She blew out a hard breath. “Is that the craziest thing you’ve ever heard?”
Now his damn cock was dancing the cha-cha and twitching like crazy.
“Does that surprise you?”
“Yes.” Had she detected his need? “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a submissive.”
“But isn’t that what you want?”
“I want you. If you’ll submit to me, all the better, but it’s not a condition or terms of a contract that we have to sign between us.”
She lowered her eyes and bowed her head. “Teach me how to be yours, Randon. I know it’s late. I understand what we face tomorrow, but teach me the basics. I want to learn.”
Because of what they faced tomorrow, he not only wanted to teach her, he needed to educate her. He stood there admiring her, hard as bone and horny as hell.
“You don’t believe me?” She kept her head down.
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“For a human, you know a lot about mates and the pack.”
“I’ve always had an interest in packs.”
“You’ve been drawn to wolf-shifters?” He slipped his forefinger under her chin and tilted her head up, forcing her to look at him.
“As a rookie, I worked with the Miami PD. I was assigned to unsolved cases where supernatural criminals were the suspects. Later I took a job with the drug task force and spent some time working with blood junkies. This was before vampires were widely acknowledged so there was a lot of red tape.”
“I’m sure. And no pun intended.” The thought of her working with vampires bothered him. He wondered if her previous involvement with bloodsuckers had somehow lured the extortionist. Even though the extortionists were different than traditional vampires, they still shared common characteristics. “So did you always work in the supernatural division?”
“Primarily, yes. It was an interesting time in the field. It was before vampires had sanctioned communities and right after shifters earned the right to vote.”
“I never quite understood that. We should’ve been able to vote all along.”
“Politicians disagreed. They opposed the amended voting policies because shifters represented a bigger threat than vampires. They’re—you’re—viewed as agile creatures. Day or night, you’re mentally alert. You move with great ease and flexibility, and as a whole you’re viewed as intelligent people.”
“Keep talking, honey. You’re impressing this wolf.”
“Wolf-shifters will eventually take the coveted seats in politics. Keeping your rights to a minimum postponed the inevitable.” She paused. “I’m boring you.”
“Not at all.”
“In any event, I was always drawn to wolf-shifters and crimes pertaining to them.”
“How were you drawn to them?” Possession, true obsession, reared its ugly head.
“I always knew I belonged to the wolves.”
“Not wolves, honey, me.” His rigid cock pumped with more excitement as
a whirlwind of exquisite sensations whipped through his shaft and thrummed in his balls. He lifted her and bracketed her legs around his waist. With the swollen head of his cock pressing against his slacks, he rubbed against her center as he walked to the small bedroom, right off the kitchen.
Once there, he gently lowered her to the bed and leaned over her. Placing one hand at her head, he ran the other one down the front of his shirt, freeing the buttons. Watching her as she watched him was incredibly sensual, but when she started undressing, too, he was a real goner.
She exhibited extreme confidence as she stripped her shirt over her head and reached behind her back to unhook her bra. Seconds after she freed those voluptuous breasts, she shifted her hips, kicked off her shoes, and lifted her bottom long enough to shuck her slacks.
Gasping when her bosom jiggled right beneath his lips, he stalled long enough to consider the loving techniques he couldn’t wait to teach her. He wanted to train her for his bed, but more than that, he needed her to view him as her dominant partner, a trusted mate. And unfortunately, time wasn’t on their side.
Randon understood what they faced in the coming hours. Dealing with the day ahead would be worse than coping with a rabid demon, and in order to deal with the devil, he had to properly school his woman, the submissive mate he’d undoubtedly placed in the direct line of unfathomable danger.
Chapter Nine
Maybe he’d intended to take things slow. Perhaps she’d meant to let him lead. Whatever their previous goals, the foreplay began the very minute she gave him a feral look.
Randon assaulted her month with a ravenous kiss, looping his tongue around hers and drawing her closer. He locked his arms around her body and held her steady, loving everything about the way she moved.
Pleasant Extortion [The Extortionists 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) Page 4
