Nervously fumbling with ledger sheets, she asked, “Are you all right, Jagger?”
Stroking his chin, he watched her thoughtfully. For the last six and a half hours, they’d torn the financial statements apart. They were searching for discrepancies, errors Melinda had assured him he would find when she’d first detained him. Now they were approaching the seven o’clock hour, and she wanted to shift their focus and discuss expansion plans.
“You’re stalling me, Melinda. We’ve been over the financials. Our accounting reports are accurate. Not one discrepancy materialized. Not even misappropriated funds for a pack of chewing gum.”
“It never hurts to double-check those with access to your money, Jagger,” she pointed out with unwavering determination. “I’m as pleased as you are to discover we don’t have a problem.” She clasped her hands under her chin. “And I only mentioned the upcoming construction because I thought you were anxious to begin production for Rise to Power: Search for Pride. Who knew this show was only a mere fantasy?”
“It isn’t a fantasy,” Jagger bit out. Ariela had a dream. He and Ariela wanted their guests to marvel at the genius behind Ariela’s upcoming entertainment venue. They wanted Las Vegas tourists to enjoy an entertaining show, but they had a motive behind the forthcoming venture, too. They would use the new venue to find others like them, shifters who would ultimately help them form a new pride full of like minds and similar bodies.
Thinking of Ariela made him uneasy for a moment. She hadn’t called him. During a lioness-shifter’s season, they could be very demanding on their mate. Fuck. If he hadn’t heard from her, that could only mean one thing.
He walked over to the sitting area and retrieved his phone from the coffee table. Noticing a sour expression settling on Melinda’s face, he wasn’t surprised to find his cell had been turned off.
“Did you change my phone settings?” The accusation flew from his lips almost as quickly as he stalked her.
“Why would I do something so childish, Jagger?”she asked, acting appalled by his suggestion.
Waiting for the phone to power up, he glared at his attractive assistant. He’d like to think Melinda hadn’t used her clout with the company to keep him tied up, but he knew better.
Melinda wasn’t above keeping him at the office for hours on end. She’d done so in the past, but her previous attempts had never bothered him—or Ariela for that matter.
In the past, he’d often texted Ariela and asked her to join them. During her last mating season, he’d made frequent excuses to run upstairs for a forgotten file, a task that often led to a desperate quickie.
Dialing Ariela, he listened to the continual ringing. Alarmed when she didn’t answer, he returned to the table, gathered a few documents and shoved them in his briefcase. “I need to go. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“We should take care of this tonight, Jagger,” Melinda said, her fingers drifting down the opening of her shirt. Caressing the contour of one of her breasts, she rested her fingers in between her mounds, drawing unavoidable attention to her cleavage.
As his panic grew so did his own urges, the need to mate breaking down his defenses. Damn if he didn’t feel human as he watched Melinda’s seductive gaze hold him to a challenge.
He forced himself to look away from temptation and reminded himself of the beautiful woman he had waiting for him at home. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“One of these days, you’ll stop running from me, Jagger. For both our sakes, I hope I’m not involved with another man by then.”
Pausing at the door, Jagger faced her one last time. “For my sake, I hope you are.”
* * * *
Ariela was livid. Jagger had promised he’d hurry home. Since it was almost eight o’clock, she was pretty sure that if he’d rushed, someone had deliberately put up a solid barrier he couldn’t easily cross.
Melinda.
With that thought, she grumbled to herself about the whore Jagger refused to fire. What he saw in Melinda professionally, Ariela could understand. She was indeed brilliant, but she was also a self-serving woman with one obsession, an unattainable goal. She would stop at nothing to see Jagger and Ariela torn apart.
Melinda had a slim chance with Jagger, and Ariela wasn’t overly concerned. Even as kids, Jagger and Ariela couldn’t stand to be away from one another for longer than a day. It wasn’t until they were older that they admitted the fact, but Ariela still recalled the overwhelming surge of loneliness she faced whenever Jagger played hooky from school or went MIA for a day of sulking.
Ariela had actually been the one to stray after they’d professed their love and began a committed relationship. After discovering that her girlfriends in college found her completely prudish because of her virgin status, she’d ventured off to find her womanhood—and damn near gave it away to the first willing bedbound participant she could find.
A smile still spread across her lips when she thought of Jagger rescuing her from a fraternity boy’s clutches. He’d been enraged, mad enough to kill when he’d pounced inside the frat boy’s room and snatched Ariela away from the young lad—right as the unsuspecting fellow had reached for his strand of condoms, a large assortment he’d assured her they’d put to good use during the course of one night.
Giggling to herself, she couldn’t help but revisit the evening when her life changed. She gripped the thick tube-style railing encircling their patio and let her fantasies have her. Looking out over the canyon, she wondered which rock had been theirs, the spot where Jagger had taken her virginity and ravished her body so completely that she’d never contemplated giving herself to another…until now.
An overwhelming sadness washed over her as she swayed back and forth, fighting the growing need, the insatiable desire to fuck. Jagger had no idea how much pain she endured during her season.
Other lioness-shifters took several mates because one breeding partner couldn’t keep up the pace. A few of those who didn’t have several partners had attentive mates, males willing to drop everything and stay home with their women until their breeding term passed. Some, however, suffered alone. Their significant others often left them to fend for themselves during their season, something she couldn’t accuse Jagger of doing. Until now.
She paced back and forth, angry at herself for the mix of emotions wreaking havoc on her body and mind. Jagger often assured her. He would be the kind of mate she could depend upon, in good times and in bad—or naughty, which happened to be the case.
“Where the hell are you, Jagger!” she screamed at the dust and wind, noting a blinking light moving across the desert below her.
At first, her heart skipped a beat and she hustled to the other side of the patio. Disappointed to find the lone headlight making its way across the deserted path, she cursed under her breath. The least Jagger could’ve done was tried to call. Then she wouldn’t be pacing like a discontented lioness on the prowl.
“Prowl, hell,” she grumbled, snatching her phone from the glass tabletop. She flopped down in a lounge chair and propped her knee against the cast iron. The first thing she noticed was a missed call. One missed call, with an emphasis on one.
Apparently Melinda had been keeping her mate busy, with meetings and God only knew what else. She could almost picture Jagger with his back against the wall, vehemently striking out with his claws sharpening on Melinda’s razor sharp tongue.
Ariela shuddered with the imagery. What was wrong with her, anyway? She’d had a quite enjoyable day, all things considered.
She’d relaxed by the pool, stroked herself with a new vibrator until she was convinced she’d put her mating call to sleep, cooked a pot of homemade chili, called Jagger for a few minutes of enjoyable phone sex and finally assembled her sex swing. After lunch, she’d tried on a few sexy outfits and modeled them for herself. Falling in love with a little black dress, she later fantasized about Jagger taking her out on the town and fucking her
in the middle of a crowded dance floor.
She’d been so hot and bothered, she’d ended up in the swimming pool once more, where she’d given new meaning to water-play. And that was where she’d spent the majority of her day.
Thank God they didn’t have neighbors. She’d been thoroughly aroused all afternoon into the early evening. Now with the spring chill in the air, she was frantic with desire as a flood of heat left her gyrating against the chair, rubbing her clit against the rough metal seat underneath her. True discomfort settled between her legs.
Punching in Jagger’s number, she listened to his voice as her call was routed to his voicemail. She had the option of leaving a message or speaking to someone from his answering service.
“Old school,” she grumbled, irritated because she shouldn’t have to go through his damned answering service if she wanted to speak with him.
Oh, he would soon pay for this. When he came home, he would find out why an intelligent lion didn’t leave his lioness alone. He’d soon discover the mating season wasn’t just a minor inconvenience. The breeding frenzy presented its share of challenges for both parties, not just the female. She had no intentions of sitting home alone. Jagger had said he’d return soon. He didn’t hold up his end of the deal, so she wasn’t bound by his warning.
When he came home he would pitch a fit, but he could roar all he wanted. She wouldn’t be around to listen.
Chapter Three
Stretching her feline legs, Ariela ran across the desert. Every muscle in her body tightened as she loped toward the glorious rock formation. Her strides quickened. Her paws struck out at the hard ground. The sandy wind blew in her face, prickling her cat form in a sensitizing caress.
Ariela stopped for a minute to savor the whispering sensation tickling her ears. The breeze ruffled her coat and she shook off her sixth sense, the one warning of looming danger.
Hearing a coyote’s call, Ariela balked at the thought of dangerous creatures roaming the desert late at night. She should’ve been frightened as the wild sounds around her seemingly moved closer, but instead she was utterly and completely mesmerized by their vocal expressions of discontentment.
Feeling as if she had several pairs of eyes following her, she opened her mouth to speak, only to be reminded of her catlike call, one that gave her a little reassurance. As a human-lioness shifter, she topped the food chain, trumped only by a massive male lion, a fact she should’ve considered but hadn’t until she felt as if she were being stalked.
Whipping around to greet her aggressor, she came face to face with quite possibly the most beautiful lion in any kingdom, including the Red Rock Canyon, where Jagger had always reigned supreme. In that moment, she became prey to an assertive predator, one who held her spellbound as he circled her.
Entranced by his effect on her, she knew in an instant what problems the lion represented. She sensed the likeness. He was a human-lion shifter. Without a doubt, he too realized she was the same.
Sniffing her tail, he nudged her with his nose and assumed a posturing position. Was he pursuing her?
Without question.
The worst possible outcome was seconds from transpiring.
She had two options. She could give in to his advances. They could fuck like animals and she could betray the only man she’d ever loved, or she could shift and hope for the best. The latter wasn’t without its dangers. She risked sudden death if the lion refused to shift in front of her.
The beast closed the distance between them, looping around her quicker than before. She could smell his arousal and his scent drove her own need. Her tail swished around in a vile manner and she cursed her body and her season, wishing she had remained at home instead of searching out trouble, practically calling upon danger by its first and middle name—male lion.
Her carnal instincts tricked her judgment and wrecked her soul. She wanted to mate with this beautiful creature, let him slide in behind her and fuck her senseless in their animal state and then do the same in their shifted forms.
He roared in agitation, nudged her with his nose and then threw his head back and bellowed once more. She stilled then and fully expected him to mount her. She flipped her tail once again as if to invite the impalement.
He whipped around and came to her head, staring into her eyes as if he were trying to gauge her responses. Perhaps he was wondering how she could carry the scent of another yet seem willing to take a strange male right there in the wild.
She shook off her need and remembered her love for Jagger. In Jagger’s eyes, betrayal would be a feat worse than death, so she voted upon her only option. She shifted.
The lion shifter wasted no time then. To her surprise, he transitioned, too. She watched in amazement as a muscular man full of confidence, and apparently a few expectations, left his lion’s form as if he’d been called upon to follow her lead.
Built like a fucking machine, the man was incredibly perfect. He straightened his back and shot her a sexy lopsided smile, one meant to disarm her. In fact he left her quivering in his presence.
The shifter looked as if he belonged on the pages of a magazine. He had great skin, beautiful green eyes, a cleft chin, square jaw, and full lips. His Roman nose was all the more noticeable when he tilted his head back and sniffed wildly at the air, an act that left her ogling him all the more.
To make matters worse, the whole package below the neck was the very definition of a guaranteed good time. Chiseled abs led to a stout member—long and thick, with a moistened hooded head—situated between two rock-solid thighs.
For a minute, she lost her place. Her head spun and she felt a little woozy. Ariela reached out to him in an effort to gain her balance and he quickly caught her by the arm. Unexplainable pain gnawed at her gut. Her fingers tingled. Arousal licked at her pussy lips. The sensations were so strong, she felt as if she’d been kissed intimately and stroked by a most talented tongue.
“I had a feeling you’d shift,” he said, moistening his delectable mouth. “Not a smart move out here in the middle of the desert. Don’t you know what the lions will do to you if they find you in heat?”
He watched her watch him, acting as if her presence there disgusted him on some level. Then, he caressed her body with a seemingly appreciative gaze. He casually fondled his dick, pumping his erection up and down, as if toying with his cock was the most natural occurrence in the world. For shifters, it wasn’t that unusual. During a mating bout, it was quite common for females to let their sexuality guide them. If a male picked up their scent, he typically acted out, too.
“It isn’t safe out here.”
Ariela forced her gaze down, too aware of his movement. She focused on how he pumped his cock with careful precision. Her ragged breaths indicated her interest, and he took a firmer hold of his cock, acting as if he planned to stand there and perform all night long.
“Do you speak?”
Ariela jolted to attention then. She covered her bare breasts by folding her arms over her chest. “Can you stop that, please?”
“If I shift again.” He told her what they both knew. Her scent would drive him mad in either form, particularly now that he’d seen her in the flesh.
“Don’t be crass.” She rubbed her lips together and imagined herself positioned in front of him. Picturing his cock at her lips, she fantasized about him teasing her, promising all sorts of illicit fucking, good old-fashioned carnal loving.
He relaxed his grip and his cock stood at attention, aimed right at her. His grin widened. The son-of-a-bitch was enjoying the hell out of her gaping, which could only mean one thing. He thought she was an easy score. Considering her mating season, he was right to assume as much. Most lioness-shifters in heat would’ve taken a crouched position as soon as a worthy partner had shown interest.
If she had believed in psychological theory and nature over nurture, she and Mr. Sex-Lion should’ve been thrashing around like sexual beasts by then.
“We bot
h know what your scent will do to me. I could kill you, and you don’t look like you’re out here because you have a death wish.”
“Why would you kill me?”
He dragged his thumb around the shape of his mouth, acting as if he were in deep thought. “You’re in heat, and the scent doesn’t change even when you’re in your human form. It’s why you’re in danger here.” He looked to the hills and, oddly enough, the very trail she’d taken when she’d come to the desert.
“Have you been following me?”
“Yes,” he replied, stroking his cock again. This time, he quickly established a rhythm.
“Please stop. You’re making me uncomfortable.” She nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Where is your mate?” The question resounded like a demanding inquisition. His eyes were heavily laden with lust. His pumping had turned brash and deliberate.
Good God, the average man would’ve already shot a load!
“I asked you a question. Where is your mate, woman?” He gritted his teeth and a drop of his transparent excitement rimmed the tip of his cock.
“How do you know I have a mate?”she asked, forcing herself to look away when she noticed the emergence of the barb, a significant sign he’d soon find his release.
“I know more about you than you know about yourself, Ariela. Now where is Jagger?”
Suddenly on guard, she was terribly frightened then. He spoke her name with such a passionate voice, but her reason for alarm was more than just her name on his lips. He knew her mate’s name, too.
“Ariela?” He released his penis and curved his arm around her waist, pulling her against his solid body.
“Let me go,” she whispered.
“You want me.” His eyes flickered with the statement. “And I want you, Ariela.”
“I have a ma…mate.”
“I know,” he said roughly. “But it won’t stop you from taking me, too.”
“I have a mate,” she said again, feeling his length mashed against her mound, and hating herself for loving the feel of him against her.
Power Page 3
