“You know I’m here if you need anything. I’ve got a bit of trouble with our website being hacked right now, but it should be fixed really soon, and I can come down to New Jersey if you need me.”
“Brass Cat got hacked?”
“It happens, apparently, or so they say. I’m getting the problem taken care of, so don’t worry about any of that. If you need me, I’ll be there.”
The sincerity in her voice choked him up, but he couldn’t handle seeing her after what he’d just learned about himself, about where he came from. The bear called him an idiot.
“I’ll be okay. Anyway, I’ve got to find a hotel room before it gets too late. I’ll call you soon.”
It was a dick move, getting off the phone with her like that when she’d been so sweet to him, even telling him she’d come all the way up to New Jersey to be with him. Memories of sitting in the back of the church at four different funerals, saying good-bye to Brian, Freddy, Joe, and Maya, tore into him. Anger that his mother had lost her chance to stay sober and build a new life for himself warred with shitty memories of growing up poor and neglected. He needed to shut down everything going on in the jumbled-up mess of his mind. If Shayla came to see him, she’d be seeing him at his worst. He couldn’t allow that.
Grant checked into a hotel that looked decent and locked himself in his room. He planned to raid the minibar shortly. His mother was gone. With what she’d revealed about his father, she’d taken his last hope of having a dad somewhere out there in the world, maybe a decent guy who might want to be found. He’d secretly held out this small, ridiculous hope that his mom’s anger at the guy, for whatever reason, had caused her to paint his father as a jerk. Instead, his father was a violent, career-ladder-climbing gang member who got off on roughing up women that he paid to screw. Also, his mother had screwed men for money, so she could purchase drugs. Grant’s DNA was fucked.
Nothing wrong with you, the bear tried to soothe him in a gentle growling voice. Grant scoffed. All right, fine, you’re a hardheaded motherfucker, but other than that, you’re pretty decent.
Thanks, bear. Grant promised himself Shayla would never know where he really came from. She’d never see him get out of control. No matter how much he wanted to put fingerprints on her ass and permanent teeth marks in her neck, he wouldn’t let that happen. Ever. He couldn’t bear to have her think of him as violent, the way his mother saw his father.
Not really the same thing. But was it close enough to the same thing? Confusion had Grant gripping the edge of the table and grinding his teeth. His head pounded a destructive metal-band rhythm, and he needed to do…something. Maybe hit something or tear apart everything around him.
Grant’s mother was gone. He could call the woman who had acted as his mother, and he could make the thirty-minute drive from the hospital to see her, but her son was dead, and Grant would be nothing but a reminder to her.
You don’t know that, the bear echoed in his mind.
Bullshit, bear. You don’t know anything about it.
The bear growled at him. I see your memories of her. Also, you’re a fucking idiot.
Maybe, but if I knock on her door and she wants to know why I couldn’t save Brian and why it had to be him and not me, I don’t think I can handle it. I can’t give up all my good memories of her and J. D.
The bear didn’t push him but stayed silent until demanding Grant shift in the woods behind the hotel. The bear tore up a bunch of tree trunks, let Grant take out his frustration by belting out horrific-sounding bear growls, and then ate an entire rabbit and part of a deer. Being in bear form felt good. It blunted some of his anger, and he would have stayed that way longer, but there were no marks to any of the large tree trunks at the mouth of the woods to indicate that those particular woods were in a shifter-friendly area. Grant hated getting re-dressed in public places. The bear thought it would be funny if a night photographer got a picture of Grant’s naked ass and put it on a porn site.
* * * *
A week after her strange phone conversation with her ex, Hunter, Shayla sat at her desk working with a rep from a computer firm she’d hired to fix a big, fat mess that seemed to be getting worse by the hour. If murder were legal, she’d chop Hunter and Baron into tiny little pieces and leave them to rot in a big black garbage bag until trash day. Grant was in New Jersey because his mother had suffered a heart attack and died shortly after. With that in mind, Shayla had filled him in on only the bare minimum of the hell being unleashed upon Brass Cat.
She refused to worry Grant and add to everything he must be going through by telling him that Brass Cat’s whole website had been hacked, their phone system was screwed up, and they’d somehow lost about twenty clients. Some claimed they had been threatened with the ruination of their own companies if they continued using Brass Cat’s services, while some new clients cited false data showing Brass Cat performing poorly in the advertising world. Shayla was close to the end of her rope, and probably the only thing keeping her from snapping was the monumental effort of performing damage control.
Since her bank account had been hacked, she’d sold off a lot of her jewelry to pay for her immediate expenses, such as the tech company working double-time to secure her website and ensure none of the financial data was hacked. She’d also reported the whole issue to the Great Oaks police department who didn’t seem that concerned about her problem. “That kind of stuff happens with bank accounts more often than you’d think,” the officer had informed her. He’d given her paperwork to fill out and instructed her to take up the rest of the issue with her bank.
The officer’s halfhearted promise to look into the problem didn’t reassure her that progress would happen quickly. He had seemed young, possibly too young to be interested in crimes that didn’t involve blood and dead bodies. She had wanted to yell at the officer that the longer it took to look into things, the longer Hunter had to screw with her life. Then she realized the best chance she had of fixing things was to take away Hunter’s greatest power. His computers skills were great? Fine, she’d find someone with even better skills, and they’d build security measures Hunter couldn’t hack, ones that would catch him hacking into where he didn’t belong. If he hit again, she’d hit back harder.
For the moment, the question of how to keep her existing clients from leaving weighed heavy on her mind. Hunter had apparently found the names of several of her clients through social media and other digital mentions and used the information to terrorize them and badmouth her. Brass Cat’s reputation could forever be damaged if she didn’t work quickly. To add to the misery, Brass Cat was now being audited. The replacement being trained to one day completely take over Grant’s position in the company had agreed to stay late and make sure all financial paperwork was in proper order before the accounting firm Shayla filed her business taxes with did the final check. Still, the replacement wasn’t Grant.
The fight to fix Hunter’s mess meant Shay needed to use whatever resources she had available and that implied calling in favors, promising favors, selling her jewelry at a cash-for-gold shop, and taking some of the designer clothes and handbags to a consignment store. She had some money in a trust fund, but that was a last resort. An only-in-the-event-of-a-disaster kind of thing. The situation wasn’t at absolute-disaster level yet. She couldn’t access her bank and credit cards at the moment anyway, so until she got that fixed, her only available cash flow came from selling her things.
Hunter had caused the whole mess; she absolutely knew it. Shayla didn’t feel sorry for poor delusional Hunter anymore. Baron had stirred the pot with her nonsense, and she’d gotten Hunter involved, so it wasn’t just the inconvenience of Baron’s pestering and the horrifying memories dredged up in a traumatic interview. No, her whole company was at stake. Shayla had a meeting for her former workaholics group scheduled for that night. Ironic that she would have to miss the meeting because she had too much work to do.
Chapter Ten
His first day back in Great Oaks
since his mother’s funeral sucked, and though Grant wanted to see Shayla so badly it fucking hurt, he needed to get his head back together first. So he spent the whole morning getting caught up at G. Mitchell Financial Solutions, then headed to Brass Cat that afternoon and locked himself in his office to go over financial records. In the few days he’d been gone, the shit had hit the fan at Brass Cat, though Shayla had texted him everything was under control. Grant didn’t like being lied to.
Sydney had texted him that Detective Jackson, a mountain lion shifter, was now investigating Hunter Knowles as the possible hacker. The first officer Shayla had spoken to hadn’t seemed too interested in investigating anything in much of a hurry. Another fact that Shayla hadn’t shared with him. Sydney had been filling him in about the whole ordeal since she still did some freelance graphic design work for Shayla. Did Shayla not want to burden him, or did she not want him by her side in a crisis?
Being audited was a surprise but probably also part of Hunter’s attempt to get Shayla to admit to being whatever he thought she was. Maybe Hunter needed a visit from a bear with sharp teeth and sharper claws. He growled, and it took a few deep breaths before his claws would retract. He should probably have concrete evidence before tearing into the guy.
I’ll make him confess, the bear promised.
Pounding Hunter into the ground was a satisfying image to picture, but Grant had work to do, so he forced himself to concentrate on the numbers in front of him, double-checking what his replacement, Tessa, had already double-checked, before the CPA checked everything again. Running numbers helped distract him from the crazy shit going through his mind. All the important documentation seemed to be in order, so an impending visit from the IRS wouldn’t be bad, just a time suck.
Whether Shayla was a regular or hiding a secret ability in the same way Grant kept his shifter abilities a secret, he didn’t care. He loved her and he knew with certainty that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill Hunter if he came near Shay. Grant also knew it was too soon to tell Shayla how he felt about her or to reassure her that Hunter would die a painful death if he ever hurt her. Thinking of Grant as a murderous, violent man might not be too reassuring for Shayla. She was probably better off without him, especially if she wanted kids, because no goddamn way did he want to pass on his DNA. He had no idea how to be a father either.
J. D. acted like a father to you. Greg and Aiden are your brothers.
J. D. was a good example. But is it enough? Greg initiated me. Greg and Aiden are not my brothers.
Greg saved your life. He took on your initiation and claimed you as family. They love you even though you’re a dick to them.
Enough, bear!
A knock on his office door had him wanting to yell “fuck off,” but he limited himself to a terse “What?”
SHAYLA WALKED INTO Grant’s office with a carryout box of crab cakes and fruit salad from the Greenhouse Effect. Rumor was, he hadn’t come out of the office since he’d been there and that he’d basically growled or fussed at anyone who came in with a question. He had barely texted her over the past week, and all their conversations had been brief. Hearing from her staff that his jerky behavior extended to everyone he came in contact with reassured her a little that he hadn’t gone to Jersey and changed his mind about dating her. He’d retreated, though, and that worried her.
“Hey,” she greeted him softly. The grief in his eyes gutted her, made her want to cry for him, but she offered him dinner instead. “Take a break,” she urged him. “Maybe call it a night. All the paperwork will be here tomorrow.”
He gave her a half smile. “Hi, baby doll. Thanks for dinner. I’ll be finished double-checking everything in another hour or so. I’ll lock up.”
She wouldn’t be a pest and force him to talk. Sometimes words weren’t the most important part of a conversation. She set the carryout box on his desk and laid her hand against his cheek. Softly, she kissed him, hoping that carried the message.
He looked up at her. “Baby doll, I missed you. I…” He pulled her onto his lap and engulfed her in his warm embrace. She had no desire to move.
“I missed you too. Things were so crazy around here. Still are, but you were on my mind a lot. I was worried about you. I wanted to see you for a minute and give you a hug and—”
He interrupted her with a kiss. His fingers dug into the flesh of her ass, and he pulled her closer. She liked it when he lost his mind and the control he sought so hard to maintain over himself slipped. A shudder ran through her body as his hold got tighter on her ass and his tongue owned hers. Grant pulled away, cursing, and looked at her. His full lips, dark eyes, and stark expression made Shayla gasp. Her pussy was wet with desire and begging for him to fill her. She pleaded with her body to cool off, that they were in the wrong place for her to get so hot, but it wouldn’t listen.
Grant laid one hand on his desk. “Do you wanna know the first fantasy I had after you had this desk delivered to my office?”
“Tell me.” Her words came out breathless.
“I’m gonna show you.” He stood her up from his lap and locked his office door. Anticipation had her heart racing. Grant put all his papers in a drawer, pushed his computer to the side, and then…
“Oh!” she exclaimed as he lifted her up on top of his desk.
“Lie back for me.”
“What for?” she asked with a totally fake innocent blink of her eyes.
“I’m gonna lick your sweet pussy until you beg me not to stop.” His deep voice was a rumble against her ear.
At a loss for words, she simply nodded and lay back against the cool wooden surface. Her eagerness, or maybe her nakedness, brought a smile to his sexy mouth. He sent her skirt and panties to the floor and pulled her closer to the edge of the desk. He knelt down and kissed her thighs before making his way up to her belly.
“Open yourself up for me,” he commanded. She cupped the blonde strip of fur at her mound that she kept waxed and trimmed to perfection, hiding herself from him. He made an impatient noise that sounded like a growl.
“You want to see?”
“I want to see you.”
She parted her legs farther, slid her fingers over her clit, and parted the slick, wet folds of her pussy to show him exactly where she wanted him.
“Beautiful.” He flicked his tongue across her nub, then sucked. “You taste like heaven and honey and everything I’ve ever wanted.” He licked her again before pressing his tongue inside her. Her hips jerked—she wanted more. Deeper. He gave her what she wanted, then replaced his tongue with his fingers and licked her clit, slow, then fast and hard. She grabbed fistfuls of his hair.
“You’d better not even think about stopping.”
She hoped everyone else in the building had left for the day—his clit-licking skills had her calling his name, and not quietly. She’d never been a screamer, but his kisses were such sweet torture she spiraled higher by the second into overwhelming ecstasy. Ecstasy no other man had ever been able to give her. Not even close. She lay still for a moment, with her hands under her head, letting her body and mind wander back to earth.
When she’d regained enough energy, Shayla sat up. “So did you ever picture me doing this in your office?” She hopped down from the desk and took him by the tie, leading him to the chair. She turned the chair to the side and pushed down on his shoulder. “Sit,” she ordered him. When he sat in the leather office chair, Shayla smiled. She sank to her knees and undid his belt. Grant caught her hand.
“Take off your shirt first. I want to see your whole body while your mouth is on my cock.”
Shayla slipped her shirt over her head and then pretended she was done.
“Bra too,” he demanded.
She grinned and undid the back fastener, slowly. While she was busy teasing him, Grant unbuttoned his pants and undid his fly for her to ease his pants and briefs to the floor.
She had planned to tease him, to lightly glide her hands up and down his length and work in the generous amount of
readiness dripping down his shaft, maybe give his heavy balls a few little licks until he insisted she suck him. She couldn’t do any of that, because she needed to taste him, right that very second. She swiped her tongue across the wide head of his cock, then took him into her mouth. His whole length was too big to fit, but she made sure she licked and sucked every part of his cock. Grant had a white-knuckle kind of grip on the arms of the chair. He always tried so hard to stay in control. One of these days she’d send him far over the edge, and she was so looking forward to it.
She used one hand to knead his balls while she slid her tongue around his hardened arousal. To drive him extra crazy, she wrapped her free hand around the base of his shaft and then sucked him while working her hand in time with her mouth. Her hair had fallen from her clip, and Shayla kept having to brush stubborn locks of it back. Grant stilled his body and pulled her hair back.
“I couldn’t see your face,” he explained. His words made her heart do weird things and pretty much vow itself to Grant.
She sucked him deeper into her mouth, and his cock got harder and bigger.
“Stop, baby. I’m gonna—” He shifted his body, trying to push her away. “You don’t have to…not here, if you don’t want…”
She knew she didn’t have to do anything, but she wanted what he needed to give her. She grabbed his hip with one hand and didn’t let up the pace.
“Shay, baby, your mouth feels so fucking good. I can’t hold out.”
On a shout, his hips jerked, and wave after wave of hot, salty cum pulsed into her mouth. She swallowed the creamy shot, then looked him straight in the eye to lick her lips.
He pulled her back into his lap and hugged her to him for a moment. When he traced a finger across her forehead, his blissed-out expression turned worried.
DARK CIRCLES SMUDGED Shayla’s beautiful eyes. She gave a little yawn and snuggled in closer to him. He tipped her chin to face him, and her expression wasn’t just tired. It was weary, worried. He needed to clear a few things up.
Stranger Creatures 2: Bear's Edge Page 10
