by Jianne Carlo
Her vaginal muscles clamped his dick.
“Move.” She reached up to score his shoulder.
His toes flexed into the mattress. He pounded into her fisting pussy. His stones reared up to ram his scrotum. The climax roared through him. Scorching heat blazed his entire groin, and he jetted into her.
Rapid-fire bursts emptied blood from brain to cock. An excruciating shudder racked him from scalp to heels.
It could’ve been moments or hours before his gray matter began recognizing the most basic of realities. His erratic, gulped inhales roared in the quiet of the room. Gradually oxygen made it to his burning lungs, and his glazed eyes ceased blurring.
Joe blinked.
Panic hit him.
He had never lost it like this.
Praying he hadn’t hurt her, Joe glanced down and let out a long breath. Her eyes were closed, but she wore the sultriest grin he’d ever seen. “Susie. Look at me, babe.”
She shook her head but peeked with one eye. “No energy.”
Wearing a smile so wide his skin ached, he rolled over and took her with him. “Straddle me. Don’t want out yet.”
Movements clumsy and fitful, she heaved a sigh and complied.
He kissed her forehead, cupped an ass cheek in each hand, and kneaded gently.
“Joe?”
“Hmmm.” He liked the feel of her firm bottom.
“Why’d you do that?”
“Be specific, gypsy. Lose it? Pound you like a caveman?”
“You know exactly what I mean.” She rose up on her forearms and glared at him.
He raised a brow and waited.
“Make me be explicit.”
“Didn’t you like it?”
“You know I did.” She punched his shoulder.
“Because you secretly wanted to but needed to be pushed into it. Part of my alpha duties. To anticipate your wants and uncover your secret fantasies.” He caressed her cheek, traced a finger around a delicate ear whorl, and tickled the lobe. “One day I’m going to make you climax when I nibble here.”
“What if you guess wrong about a fantasy?”
He smoothed away her frown and met her worried gaze. “Then we won’t do it. For the record though, I won’t ever be wrong.”
She crossed her eyes. “And to think I thought ballroom dancing would somehow make you less of an arrogant alpha.”
The faint rumbling of Tate’s pickup obscured the playful chirping of the birds in the backyard. He glanced at the clock and tweaked her nose. “Tate and Gray are almost here. Barb asked me to do a reading, and I want to go through it a couple of times before we leave. We have to be at Barb and Kieran’s in three hours.”
Her lids fell. “How could I’ve forgotten? It doesn’t seem right. Us doing what we did, not when the funeral’s today.”
Catching her chin, he forced her to meet his stare, and stifled a curse when a tear leaked from one eye. “Life goes on, Susie. Making love to you reaffirmed that for me. Trust me, Barb and Kieran would understand we needed the comfort of each other.”
Another tear fell. “I’m not sure how much of a help I’ll be today. The only two other funerals I attended, I bawled the whole time.”
He squeezed her tight. “Bawl as much as you want. Just promise to stick close to me.”
She blinked furiously and swiped at the moistness on her cheeks. “Deal. Oh wait. I don’t have anything suitable to wear. The suit’s too colorful, and my shoes aren’t appropriate. You practice your reading while I shower, and then I’ll get Gray to run me to Walmart.”
“No—”
She slapped a hand over his mouth and squinted. “Hold the alpha. We’ll be late otherwise. Gray’s my brother and an alpha. You think he’d let anything happen to me?”
He studied her. Captured her wrist. “I don’t like it one iota, but there’s no other choice. I can’t let Kieran and Barb down.”
She scrambled off him. “Go.”
Joe traced her muscled flanks as she walked to the bathroom. He counted off all the reasons he shouldn’t be worried. One—her aroma had lost all trace of the flint, which preceded her visions. Two—it wasn’t even seven thirty. Walmart was a five-minute drive away, and the supercenter would be virtually empty. Three—the entire trip to Walmart and back shouldn’t take more than forty-five minutes at most. Four—he’d send both Tate and Gray with her. Five—what better protection than two alpha wolves, one of them trained as a deadly assassin?
He used a wet wipe to clean his sticky groin and listened. Heard the slight air bump before the shower pull snapped into place, and tugged on a pair of sweats when she started humming. He hurried out of the bedroom, but not before he recognized the tune. “Dance With Me.” Mellow choice. He would’ve figured Susie for a rock-and-roll woman.
Joe stepped onto the porch as Tate cleared the steps and closed the door behind him. Tate’s expression warned him. A true shifter, his startling slate eyes always took on a yellow tint when he resisted his wolf form.
“You picked up the boy’s scent.”
“Yeah. We traced the bus route. He got off a good ten stops before yours. A block away from Dreaming Ground. Ran out of time what with the funeral, but your future brother-in-law’s a damned good tracker. I left Gray chasing the kid down, but you know it’s gonna be hard in that part of town.”
Hallie, being a four-college town, harbored the devil in the form of a ten-block swath even the cops avoided. You could purchase any drug in Dreaming Ground, which was situated in the old part of Hallie. With its narrow alleys and run-down, high-rise buildings reminiscent of the project-style slums of Harlem and Chicago, tracking the kid meant scouring every floor of over twenty such structures. Add to that the density of the apartments within each building and he figured it would take a minimum of a solid twenty-four hours. Unless they got lucky.
“Nothing we can do to speed things up until after the funeral. Let’s keep this to ourselves. Kieran can’t know until we have something solid. He’d go panther otherwise.” Joe dragged a hand through his hair. “I need you to take Susie to Walmart to get clothes for the funeral. If you sense even a hint of change in her scent, call me immediately and get her back here forcibly if you must. I’ll start out the second you contact me.”
“Why can’t you go?”
“Barb asked me to do a reading today, and I haven’t had the time to go through it.” Since Tate knew Joe suffered from a reading disorder, he didn’t have to add anything else.
“You going to memorize it?” Tate folded his arms. “Kieran doesn’t know about this, does he? You know Barb wouldn’t think less of you if you explain—”
“Not going there. This is what Barb wants. This is what she gets. Just watch my mate like a hawk. I haven’t told anyone about what you and Gray found, and I want to keep it that way until after the funeral. What’s the word from the cops?”
“Taunton is the lead on the case. We lucked out.”
Finally.
Detective Taunton, Tate’s cousin, had never believed Joe guilty of kidnapping Ritchie Henderson and had, at severe risk to his career, secretly aided Kieran and Tate in their efforts to free him.
“Taunton ordered a complete silence until the forensics are in. That should buy us two days. Did you call O’Reilly?”
“Sent him a text and got a positive response. He’ll speak with Chief Vinters. Bob Weber will be out of the loop for now.”
“You know Weber and Vinters have a regular weekly poker game. Both of them will be gunning for you if the crapola hits the fan. And Weber’s up for reelection this year; he’ll jump on any sensational crime.”
The minute the attorney general heard of the gruesome find, he’d be throwing a wide suspicion net, which would include Joe. The man hated Joe with a passion. Because Joe, and not Weber’s son Grant, had been Coach Tommy’s first pick as the Ruffians’ quarterback.
“Susie’s out of the shower.” Joe pulled open the door, and the two men entered the house. “Don’t let her
dawdle. And no, I haven’t told her about my reading issue.”
He dreaded that revelation.
* * * *
“With all that’s happened, I forgot to mention I resigned on Monday.” Joe shot Tate an over the shoulder glance.
Tate didn’t even blink.
The bastard somehow knew. “How’d you find out?”
“I was there when the commander got your text. Saw it and stumbled right into that blasted trap.”
“No, you don’t. I’m not taking any blame for your clumsiness. When are you due to deploy again?” Joe risked a quick peek at Susie. Crap. The grip she had on that black purse could shred the leather. He reached over and gave her hand a quick squeeze.
She turned to him with a sad excuse for a smile, shook her head, and returned to staring out of the window.
“Handed in my papers too. Figured hunting down mass murderers wouldn’t be half the fun without your sorry ass.”
Damn good thing they had arrived. Joe braked and whipped around to find Tate wearing a sardonic grin, white canines longer and pointier than any regular human’s.
“It’s time it got back to being us three,” Tate said.
They held each other’s gaze.
Joe nodded. “We’ll talk after.”
After the funeral. After they helped Kieran with his vengeance.
Both their emotions ran high, Joe realized.
Tate never lost control of his form under regular circumstances, regular meaning combat and stalking. That his canines had lengthened meant he was struggling for control.
But Tate and Joe both owed Kieran their lives, and the three men considered themselves blooded brothers. While neither Joe nor Tate could communicate mentally with Kieran, both sensed the intense energy radiated by Kieran’s fury.
Already some of Kieran’s angry despair seeped into Joe’s pores. The kind of rage Kieran suppressed could only be resolved by him killing in panther form. Kieran would be on a hair trigger until he shifted and began hunting his son’s killer.
Susie unbuckled her seat belt. “I didn’t realize you’re a mercenary too.”
“Was. Yeah. Joe needed to get out of Hallie and so did I. It was either the military or private soldiering. Long story. Tell you the whole entire thing, including all the details Joe’d prefer I left out, if you sit on my lap during the telling.” Tate winked at Susie.
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t fool me any, Tate Gunn. And I don’t for a minute believe that’s your real name, by the way. You’re a puppy dog. You just need regular scratching and a sound flea and tick bath every so often.”
Tate’s jaw sagged.
A stealth bomber thunder shook the car.
Susie just about jumped into Joe’s lap.
He wrapped his arm around her back. “It’s okay. It’s Kieran. He’s in panther form in the woods somewhere.”
“It’s killing him, the waiting.” Tate bit out the words.
“That means Barb’s alone. Because Kieran wouldn’t risk that with her parents around. Tate, go get him. Susie and I’ll get inside pronto. Barb shouldn’t be left alone.”
Joe hustled them out of the car and to the front door.
Susie touched his shoulder. “Who knows about you and Tate and Kieran? Just so I don’t mess up.”
“Barb. Kieran’s parents. You. Gray. Small loop.” He flicked her nose. “Ready?”
She nodded.
Her throat worked and he yearned to comfort her, but priorities were in order. Joe knocked.
Barb, paler than chalk, opened the door. Auburn hair scraped back, brows almost invisible, lips twitching, she shook her head.
Joe didn’t hesitate. He gathered her into his arms. “Cry, babe. Cry. Petey deserves a shitload of tears.”
Barb straightened. She tipped back her head and met his gaze. “Kieran’s losing it. You and Tate need to corral him.”
“I sent Tate after him. Tate’s better at stuff like that.” Joe ached at the torment in her brown eyes.
“I know.” She took a deep breath and moved out of his embrace. “You must be Susie. Kieran told me about you. I am so happy for you and Joe.”
Susie weaved her fingers together. “I don’t know what to say or do. Anything. Anything at all that will help. Just tell me.”
Barb tried for a smile, but Joe knew her brilliant beam and that was simply a baring of teeth.
“Susie knows about me, Barb. And Kieran and Tate. You don’t have to hide anything from her.” Joe knew what worried Barb, her mother and father. To have to keep a secret while in dire grief wouldn’t be easy.
Barb glanced at him, and she understood his unsaid words. She turned and grasped both of Susie’s hands. “Then, there is something you can do. Jump in if I blab something I shouldn’t. Joe told you about Petey’s condition?”
“No. I didn’t. I figured that wasn’t my place.” Joe clamped his hands on Susie’s shoulders and kneaded. “Should we maybe close the door before saying any more?”
Barb shook her head. “I’m not thinking straight. Of course, and let’s go sit in the living room.”
He closed the door.
Susie and Barb walked ahead of him through the arched foyer and down the four steps into the sunken, cozy room Kieran had designed for his wife. Barb tugged Susie down next to her on a brown leather couch.
Joe slumped into one of the opposite arm chairs.
“About two years ago, Petey was diagnosed with Menkes Disease. It’s a fatal condition unless it’s caught between six to eight weeks of birth.” Barb shuddered. “Because Petey is part panther, he didn’t develop the symptoms until much later than a normal child would have. Only Kieran’s parents, Joe, and Tate knew about Petey’s condition. I couldn’t tell my parents without having to explain why he hadn’t succumbed to the disease earlier. My parents don’t know about Kieran being a panther shifter.”
Susie appeared about to pass out. Her lips had gone white, and her scent had darkened. She licked her lips. “And there’s some way I can help by knowing this?”
“Yes. Since…since we found Petey, I can’t keep it together. I keep thinking aloud and not even knowing I’m doing it. The other day I muttered something about if only I had been panther too, maybe Petey would’ve had a nine lives’ chance while stacking the dishwasher with my mom. That was when she decided I needed sedatives.”
“Maybe a sedative or two would help?” Susie wore a puzzled frown; she clearly had no idea where Barb was going.
“Actually I haven’t taken any but plan to do so today. I’ve never had one before, and I don’t know how I’ll react. If I start to say anything that sounds like one of our secrets—will you jump in? I know that means you have to be glued to my side—”
“Done deal. That means you’ll have to pee when I need to. But I’m your gal.” A few wayward tears streamed down Susie’s cheeks, but she slashed at them and continued, “And don’t worry if I bawl. I will guard you like a hawk. There’ll be no mistakes on my watch.”
Joe wanted to whirl her around and around. Kiss her senseless. Shout his pride in her to the world, the galaxy, the entire universe. She did him proud, Susan Elizabeth White, soon to be Huroq.
Events moved hard and fast after that.
Both sets of parents arrived. Kieran and Tate showed up disheveled and worse for wear. But both headed straight to Kieran’s study and came back spruced into public presentability.
Joe had ordered a limo, and it arrived exactly thirty minutes before the closed-casket, nondenominational ceremony. The journey to the funeral home was accomplished in complete silence.
They all filed into their respective seats.
The pastor opened the proceedings.
Kieran’s father delivered the eulogy. The only dry eyes in the house after his moving speech were Kieran’s.
Joe let the tears stream unchecked. Susie nudged him. It was time for his reading.
He hated public speaking worse than he hated crying.
Joe trudged to
the podium.
Closing his eyes because he knew if his gaze met Barb’s or Kieran’s, he was done for, Joe said, “Barb asked me to do this reading. It’s a poem by W. H. Auden and is titled, ‘Funeral Blues.’ There have never been words more fitting.”
He took a deep breath then began to recite. “Stop all the clocks…”
His voice faltered when he heard the rustle of the mourners. Clenching his fists, he managed to croak out the rest of the verse, but had to swallow a few times after delivering the terrible line. “Scribbling in the sky the message: he is dead!”
The memory of Petey’s gap-toothed grin made his throat clog. He gritted his teeth and doggedly continued. “He was my north, my south, my east and west, my working week and Sunday rest.”
Barb sobbed aloud, a cry of anguish that sliced his heart in two, and he met her stare. Her cheeks were wet and glistening and she had bitten her lips raw, but she jerked her chin at him, demanding he continue.
“I thought love would last forever; I was wrong—”
His vocal chords refused to function and he just stood there holding Barb’s gaze for what seemed like an eternity.
All of a sudden Susie was right beside him. She grasped his hand with both of hers and squeezed.
Knowing he had to finish the whole poem for Barb’s sake, Joe concentrated on her and blocked out everyone else. “Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can come to any good.”
Chapter Ten
Ten hours of sleep should have resulted in Susie waking up energized and raring to go. Instead she awoke sluggish and sorrowful. Her cheek rested on Joe’s chest, and the familiar musky aroma of him comforted her. She blinked and stared at the soft black hairs dusting his rib cage. Unable to resist, she traced the chocolate flesh surrounding his nipple, making smaller and smaller circles until she fingered the flat, budded tip.
He brushed his lips against her forehead.
She looked up. Their gazes met.
Moisture beaded the fine lines bracketing his eyes. He had been crying silently. Her heart ached. She rubbed a fingertip over the slight dimple in his chin and said, “You did good yesterday.”
