by Mel Teshco
The man nodded, putting on a brave face and speaking almost casually as he undressed quicker than a man with his injuries should. “You know, my dad will kill you. Your woman too.”
Blake’s lip curled. “So your father is in charge of hunting me down?” he asked. At the other man’s nod, Blake stated simply and decisively, “He can try to take me down, but killing my woman isn’t even an option.”
Blake grabbed the jeans and dragged them on. “Tell me, how does it feel to have a father with no honor, no principles? A father who undoubtedly couldn’t care less that I spared his son’s life and all his men.”
The man wheezed in pain as he tugged off his button-down shirt. When he looked up, shame burned behind his young eyes. “Nothing matters more to him than killing all the shape-shifters. He won’t stop until you’re dead—or he is.”
A growl rumbled low in Blake’s throat, the sound more animal than human. “So be it.” Minutes later he swung a denim leg over the Ducati, offering Alexia a hand to help her keep balance as she mounted behind him.
He swiveled a little in the seat, focusing on the man still sprawled on the ground in his underwear. “Your kind can shoot at me all you want. But shooting at an innocent woman? A human? You’ve crossed the line.”
The man averted his eyes. “I do what has to be done.”
“Tell your father to meet me—alone—at club Shrine. Nine o’clock tonight.” He fired up the Ducati’s engine, then tossed out one final instruction, “And tell him to use a white cane so I can recognize him.”
Chapter Four
Coming back to the city with her father’s name still in tatters and the bad guys still after them and wanting to kill them, Alexia realized it was like coming full circle and everything had yet to be resolved. A slipknot that had pulled inexorably tighter.
She expected Blake to pull over at some stage and find the tracker on their bike and dispose of it, before he rented another shabby and nondescript apartment or motel room. Instead he booked them into a luxury hotel with stunning views of the ocean and ornate chandeliers sparkling on the ceilings.
The parking attendant had been bemused but not opposed to Blake’s request that he ride the Ducati to the other side of the city to another parking lot, where cruddy old motels lined every street. Of course the generous tip had been nice encouragement.
Alexia was only glad that having the bike miles away from them, and the tracker still attached, would keep them safe, even for a little while.
Her boots echoed along the marble corridor leading past the hotel’s exclusive designer shops and toward the glass elevators. “I didn’t anticipate five-star accommodation.” Her eyes skated down her bloodied and ripped flannel that sat oddly askew over her leather jacket.
He shrugged, and even in his too-tight khaki shirt and too-short jeans, the movement was all eloquence. “Believe me, I can afford it. Besides, even without the trace on your bike, my enemies are likely aware now that I’ve been hiding out in cheap dives. I’m betting this will be one of the last places the bastards will look for a while.”
They stilled at the glass doors and Blake lifted his hand to snare her chin, his rough hand sending goose bumps down her spine. “And I wanted to indulge you. Treat you as a woman should be treated.”
Her mouth dried, her pulse tripping. “You’ve already treated me exactly how a woman would want to be treated.”
At the hunger in his look her belly cramped with yearning, her eyelids fluttering closed. Her lips parted and warmth heated her veins as sexual tension vibrated between them, hanging heavy in the air. She opened her eyes when the elevator doors pinged and slid apart. He dropped his hand to take hold of hers, before all but pulling her inside with him. He jabbed the button for the top floor’s penthouse suite, then turned to her, stark need in his stare.
They moved together as one. His head swooped, his lips slanting across hers. She opened her mouth on a sigh, losing herself in his mastery as he thrust his tongue inside. Heat sparked in her belly, then spread in a tsunami of need through her body until her pussy was all slick and moist.
His hands cupped her ass and he snagged her against his erection. “I want you so bad,” he bit out in a groan.
She ground against him, desperate to have him inside her, filling her, fucking her. “I want you too,” she whispered hoarsely.
The elevator stilled, its doors sliding open. They pulled apart, gasping for breath. Sensor lights lit up the apartment just outside the doors, glowing sedately. So normal and yet she felt anything but. Every cell, every atom pulsed with raging need and want.
Blake slammed the emergency stop button so the elevator wouldn’t move, and then dragged her back into his arms, his mouth devouring hers. He moved her back a couple of steps, until the glass wall pressed against her spine.
“Elevator sex?” she gasped.
“To start off with,” he growled, before dropping to his knees to thrust off her boots. Her leather pants were next, followed as quickly by her lacy panties. Cool air caressed her bared pussy and thighs as he looked up, his eyes glowing. “My turn to taste.”
He placed his big hands at the tops of her thighs before he spread her wide, using his thumbs to peel the folds of her labia apart to expose the hard nub of her clit. The first flick of his tongue sent darts of electricity through the tight bundle of nerve endings and caused her eyelids to flicker shut. At the second and third lick, her head fell back and she bit her tongue, shuddering with pleasure.
It would have been bearable if the licking hadn’t been relentless and each stroke of his tongue that little bit harder. She opened her eyes and looked down. Oh god. Seeing his dark head between her thighs was beyond stimulating. But it was only when he looked up and caught her stare, then pulled her labia wider still before deliberately giving her one long lash of his tongue that she was pushed a whisper away from orgasm.
“Holy fuck,” she whispered hoarsely, barely able to stand with her thighs all unsteady and her knees weak.
His attention was once again consumed by her cunt that no doubt glistened with her juices. With an almost feral growl, Blake leaned forward, his mouth covering her plump little clit. When he deftly suckled, her whole body went rigid. Breath whooshed from her lungs and she was propelled right over the edge, crying out his name as she convulsed, her fingers digging into his scalp.
And like a cat lapping milk, he stayed at her, drinking from her until he seemed satisfied he’d taken her all.
In one fluid motion he moved onto his feet and lifted her into his arms, trapping her between the glass elevator walls and his taut body. She smiled, sighing luxuriously, seductively as she draped her legs around his hips and looked up.
His stare narrowed and glittered. His breath, with its faintly musky, erotic aroma of pussy, feathered her hair. He freed his cock from the restriction of his jeans and let loose with a low, carnal growl.
She shivered but was totally hot for him. This was just what she craved. Hard, fast and animalistic.
The head of his cock pushed between her slick folds. She whimpered, writhing to get closer, to gain him access. But he displayed incredible self-control when he teased her further, rotating his hips so that his cock skated across her sensitized clit, her cunt lips.
She gritted her teeth. A protest formed, and then dissolved into a shocked gasp as he thrust forward and rammed the full length of his cock inside her, right to the hilt.
He paused, waiting for her muscles to fully adjust. “Are you okay?”
“Just fuck me,” she demanded.
He groaned at her words, his jaw clenching tight with the obvious effort to stop himself spilling deep inside her. He pulled out ever so slowly, dragging his cock almost free, before driving back inside, setting a rhythmic motion that left her panting and restless, pushed oh so close to yet another toe-curling climax.
She gave herself up to the incredible sensations building so quickly within, a need that tossed away everything but the passion of that moment.<
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“I can’t hold back much longer,” he rasped.
She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into taut, solid muscle. Her pussy contracted, her breath hissed. “Blake!” And then she was shattering around him, her inner muscles squeezing and releasing the length of his cock, pushing him into instant climax.
He roared, the sound guttural, primitive, his seed pulsing and warm.
Her head fell back and she gasped for air, her pulse jumping. She looked down and caught his stare. She swallowed. “We didn’t use protection and I don’t have my pills.”
He nodded, lifting a hand to gently stroke along her jaw. “I know.” His eyes glittered. “I’m sorry…I’ve never been this selfish and out-of-control.”
“Me neither.”
“Whatever happens, I’ll take care of you.”
“I’ve already said I don’t expect—”
“I do. And I want. More than want. Okay?”
She nodded, and he looked satisfied with that. For now. She disentangled her legs and they stepped apart. She slipped her panties back on and carried her boots and pants in one hand as he snagged her other hand in his and led her inside the hotel room, their tread whispering across the deep-gray Berber carpet.
“You must be hungry.” His voice came out husky, an aftereffect of their passion.
Yes, but not for food just yet.
He picked up the receiver of the direct-dial phone and punched in some numbers.
“Reception? Yes, I’d like a bottle of your best champagne, a platter of strawberries and half a dozen dishes of your chef’s recommendation sent up to the penthouse suite. I’d also like a selection of ladies evening gowns, shoes and underwear…” his eyes gleamed with carnal knowledge as he rattled off her dress and shoe size with unerring accuracy.
Jealousy licked a dangerous flame deep inside her belly. Just how much practice at that did he have?
“And a couple of men’s suits, shirts and size-twelve footwear. Also, could you organize to deliver—”
She tuned out as he rattled off a few more apparent essentials, trying hard not to listen in, not to feed the insane envy that pulled her heart every which way.
What was wrong with her? She’d wanted nothing from Blake other than proof, but even that didn’t seem so important anymore. Not now that she knew what gaining that proof could do to a shape-shifter…to Blake
Her father would understand the reasons why she couldn’t prove his claims, why she couldn’t give him back the high esteem and admiration his name had once carried. He’d only ever wanted her to be happy, and that was her dilemma. Somewhere along the way her feelings for Blake had superseded everything else, despite her views on long-term relationships and her desire to protect her heart.
Blake hung up, a satisfied smile curving his sexy lips. “I think a shower is in order, hmm?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, instead he swept her right back into his arms and carried her through to the massive white bathroom with gold taps. One of her boots clattered onto the floor. She frowned up at him. “Do you do this often?
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Jealous, my sweet?”
Her heart warmed at the endearment even as she glared at his too-accurate assumption. “What sort of an answer is that?”
He placed her on her feet. “What kind of question is that?”
She dropped her pants and other boot to the tiled floor as he leaned into the gleaming white stall and flipped the tap lever. The shower pulsed into life, steam thickening the air. Unbuttoning his too-small khaki shirt, he shrugged it off before divesting himself of the badly fitting jeans. Her throat dried. If a male could be called beautiful, Blake was it.
Sleek and hot masculine perfection.
“Allow me.” He stepped toward her, his fingers making short work of the flannel buttons before he pushed the shirt from her shoulders, and followed right after with her jacket and singlet.
Her breasts hardened under his gaze. But he didn’t touch. Instead he crouched and slowly peeled off her scrap of sheer, cream-lace panties.
Her breath caught at his molten look. The air expelled from her lungs on a sigh when he straightened, then he caught her up against him once more before stepping inside the large shower cubicle. A sheer curtain of wet heat drummed over them, around them, cleansing and soothing.
Blake turned her around so that her spine was aligned to his chest, his belly and his rock-hard cock. It had to be his big cat gene that saw him ready again so soon. The vision of a wild life documentary, which had showed a pair of big cats repeatedly mating, filled her mind. She closed her eyes, squirming against him, greedy for him again.
His throaty voice murmured in her ear, “Since you asked, I’ve had many, many lovers. Too many to recollect.” He used a cloth and tenderly swiped away the smear of dried blood on her brow. “But none like you. Not ever.”
The cloth hit the floor with a squelchy thud. He bent, kissing and suckling the side of her throat while he lifted his big hands to cup her breasts, using his thumbs to circle her quickly hardening nipples. When she pressed her head against his chest and looked up, he leaned over, his lips covering hers in a slow, back-to-front kiss that quickly heated her already-warmed blood.
She moaned into his mouth, and suddenly she didn’t much care about all his other lovers. He would be much older than she, it stood to reason he’d had sex with lots of other women. And what did it matter anyway? History had shown that she wouldn’t keep Blake around forever. Despite his obvious interest in her, it wouldn’t last.
Her partners never did.
She ignored the painful ache in her chest and pushed aside the creeping, inexorable feelings of adoration, of love…
She couldn’t think on that, not now. Probably not ever.
She’d enjoy him and their time together while she could.
Blake pulled his mouth from hers before he stepped back. Then, clasping his engorged shaft, he guided it between the crevice of her butt cheeks until the head of his cock nudged her pussy lips.
Oh, Blake. I need you.
With the water pummeling her body, she released a desperate mewl that was as much emotional as physical. She bent over, offering herself to him. A willing sacrifice to a pagan god.
“Alexia,” he rasped hoarsely, before he pushed deep inside her, every long, hard inch making her moan.
He paused, breath hissing, his big hands clasping her hips to anchor her in place. Then he began to rock back and forth, his balls slapping against her butt and his cock sliding in and out of her wet cunt until she was gasping for breath but wanting so much more.
That was when it hit her. She was never going to get enough of Blake.
The realization shattered right along with her body as she climaxed, almost sobbing with the exquisiteness that took over her so soon after her last orgasm. Blake pushed into her hard, once, twice, before he too came, his cock exploding deep and his breath rushing from his lips.
Sometime later, passion still lingering as they slid into the complimentary white hotel robes, a knock sounded at the door. Blake pressed a hard, possessive kiss onto her mouth before he moved to the door. Opening it with the security chain still attached, he gave a nod, and then pulled the chain free, ushering in the shop assistant from the boutique in the foyer.
Despite telling herself she wasn’t interested in the designer finery hanging on the portable racks, Alexia couldn’t help but admire the array of styles and colors.
“What takes your fancy?” Blake asked.
She stepped forward and flicked through the hangers on the rail, stopping at an off the shoulder, yellow chiffon dress that flared out from the waist.
“That one is lovely,” agreed the young shop assistant, looking every inch a pencil-thin model straight off the catwalk.
Blake flipped another frock off its hanger. “And we’ll take this one too.”
“Oh, great choice,” the assistant agreed. “That style and color will suit her perfectly.”
Alexia’s eyes widened. The long, slinky flame-red dress was cut to the thigh at the front, the plunging neckline that was layered in ruffles, drawing the eye.
As Alexia snagged a handful of lacy thongs, the assistant retrieved two pairs of stilettos from the shoe racks beneath, the little gems along the straps winking under the lights.
Blake selected a dark-gray suit and crisp white dress shirt, along with shoes and a swirling-patterned red and gray tie.
Another knock sounded. Blake repeated the careful procedure of before, and then opened the door to room service dining. “Ah, great timing,” he murmured to the waiter who pushed his cart inside.
The smiling shop assistant left with her wheeled clothes rack, the waiter following soon after.
Once they were alone again, Alexia’s skin goose bumped under Blake’s burning stare. She gestured weakly toward the food. “That looks delicious.”
“Delicious, yes,” Blake murmured, his eyes not on the food. “It’s a warm night, would you prefer to eat out on the balcony?”
Outside, where darkness might shadow at least some of her true feelings from him? For now at least, her love for him was a discovery that was still too raw, too new and wild for her to share. “Okay, yes. Sure,” she managed to utter.
A few minutes later they were seated under the stars, a squat candle burning faintly on the table and a vista of glowing city lights spread out before them.
Blake speared a moist piece of barramundi from one of the plates and proffered her the morsel. She took it, subliminally aware the food was superb, but barely tasting it.
Anxieties for the danger he was about to put himself in continued to play at the back of her mind. She chewed and swallowed. “Aren’t you worried about snipers, someone attacking you out here?”
He cracked apart some lobster. “Honestly, no. These men aren’t organized crime. They’re individuals who’ll come after me the old-fashioned way.” His broad shoulders lifted, and even in the weak candlelight his honey-gold collarbone gleamed beneath the white robe. “At least for now. Besides, they’ll be busy chasing a phantom trail for a while yet.”
