Mood music chanted loudly from the stereo in the kitchen. He winced. He didn’t mind listening to Reya’s music most of the time. Even most of her mood stuff he could enjoy with flutes, strings and the occasional Native American chants. But he had yet to figure out what the hell this was. Every song sounded the same, a constant hum broken only by those little finger symbol things. Sounded like yoga music to him. Far Eastern, maybe Indian.
He leaned against the doorway and just watched her. Twilight darkened and pressed against the windows of the kitchen looking out over the range, the rabbit bushes and sagebrush shadowing the land. He watched as Reya cursed and grabbed a spatula flipping whatever smoked from the skillet on the stove. Her dark hair lay in a sleek long braid down her back. He followed the line with his eyes, noted the way her tight fitting aqua shirt stretched over her breasts and torso, the way her dark jeans molded her ass.
Lo blew out a breath at the fist of lust that hit him straight in the gut.
“What are we having?” he asked.
She whirled, frowning, but he caught a flicker of something in her face…shock? Surprise? Fear? For a moment, their gazes locked and he felt it, an emotion wrapped in smoke, too elusive to catch, wisp between them.
“Reya?” He took two steps towards her.
She shook her head and looked back to the stove, cursed again and picked the pan up, dropping it into the sink and turning the water on, squeezing soap into the sizzling skillet.
“Forget it,” she muttered.
Lo stood behind her at the sink, the acrid smell of burnt grease and whatever she’d been cooking filling the air.
“What was it supposed to be?”
“Squash. I wanted to try a new breadcrumb squash recipe.”
Reya could cook, spaghetti, anything on the grill. But her new creations were often…too interesting to put into words.
“Did I forget something?” he asked instead.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re cooking something different. I must have forgotten something special.”
She shook her head and turned, smiling at him. “No, nothing. I’ve just been feeling…” She wrinkled her slightly turned up nose. He smoothed the creases between her brows.
“Feeling what?” he asked, softly.
Her dark eyes dropped from his and she shrugged. “I don’t know. Like something is just waiting…” Again she trailed off.
“Waiting?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. I haven’t been sleeping well. I want to do something different with the shop this fall and want to sign several new artists and get the current list to create new pieces. I’m just stressed, that’s all.”
He studied her for a moment more, trying to read her thoughts but got nothing. Since they’d grown closer, she was easier for him to read most of the time.
She was blocking him.
Lo leaned back against the counter, watched as she bent over to rummage in the freezer and pull out a frozen pizza. “Pizza it is.”
Reining in his anger at her blocking him, he fought to keep his voice as calm as before. “Why don’t we just order in?” He grabbed the cordless and ordered a large vegetarian pizza. “There. Done. Put that one back.”
“I could have popped this one in the oven.”
“Haven’t you burned enough this evening?”
Her dark eyes narrowed at him, even as one corner of her mouth kicked up. “Screw you.”
“It’s my fondest hope.”
When her back was to him, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. Her ass was nestled against his groin, her breasts just above his arm.
“Are you going to tell me what’s really bothering you, Reya?” he whispered in her ear before kissing her just there where her neck joined her shoulder.
She shivered. “I told you.”
“Guess we’ll have to do this the hard way. But that’s all right. I like a challenge.” He turned her around, shut the freezer door with his boot, and backed her against it.
“Pizza will be here soon.”
He smiled, leaned closer and said, “Not for a bit. They’re behind and apologize, but it’ll probably be at least forty minutes before they get out here.”
Her eyes dropped to his mouth. “Oh.”
He leaned in and kissed her, gently at first, then more demandingly. Her arms started to come up, but he grabbed her hands and held them to her side.
“My way,” he whispered.
He turned her and walked her in front of him to the bedroom, then on into the bathroom.
“I should—“ she started.
“Undress,” he finished. “Now.”
For a moment she stared at him, and then pulled her shirt off. Today she wore an aqua bra, as her jeans slid down the long line of her thigh, he noticed she also wore a matching lace thong.
He closed his eyes and breathed deep, smelled the scent that was only her—reminding him of dessert rain off the mountains. Her arousal was heavy on the air, promising the storm to come. When he opened his eyes, she eased back.
“Don’t.”
She stopped.
“Do you know where I just came from Reya?” he asked, as he reached into the shower and flicked on the water, jerking two towels out and tossing them onto the vanity.
Her eyes didn’t look away from him, she didn’t try to cover herself, but he could feel her blocking him and that pissed him off. No matter what the hell else had happened or hadn’t between them, he could always find her, always sense her, always—trying hard enough—read her.
Screw waiting until this weekend.
Lo all but ripped his clothes off and gripped her elbow as they got into the shower, the hot spray and warm mist surrounding them.
He pressed her against the stone tiles of his shower, the color of canyon walls. “I was with The Council. I’ve been given an ultimatum, wife.” He bit the last word out, leaned closer and let his beast, his werecat tease to the edge, call to hers. “Since our claiming has never run the normal course, they want a declaration from us both, or they break our bond. And they want it by the next full moon.” He kissed her hard, not wanting to hurt her, but too angry to care. She’d played her games for too damn long. “I won’t let you go, Reya,” he growled. His hands slid over her wet body, molding her torso, her ribcage, her hipbones. The muscles of her belly contracted at his movements. “You will declare before The Council that you are, always have been, and always will be mine.” His fingers trailed circles on her breasts, now dripping with water, her hair slicked to her head.
He raised his gaze and saw the anger in hers. “Lo,” she whispered.
“No more excuses, Reya. No more postponements. Dena told me on the way out, I should give you a choice….woo you.” He flicked a nipple with his nail, her breath shuddering out. He leaned closer, pressing harder, his mouth nipping at her chin. “But I’m not in the mood to woo. Not in the mood to seduce.”
Her head whipped up, and though there was just a hint of anger, he also saw relief in the depths of her eyes just before she closed them.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded against her chest. He held her breast in his hand, teasing with his tongue before pulling the center into his mouth, laving, licking, torturing.
Her sigh moaned in the stall. Still he caressed with his hands and mouth, moving from one breast to the other. He played his hands up and down her sides. Easing down her, he hooked her left leg over his right shoulder opening her to him completely. She brought her hands up to cover herself. He grabbed her wrists.
“Don’t hide anything from me, Reya.” He grazed his thumb over her from her pubic bone, down her center, to her ass. “Not one. Damn. Thing.”
Her eyes locked with his and as if he’d run into a steel wall, he felt her shields.
“Damn you,” he muttered. Her wrists strained in his. He looked from her flesh, up her body into her eyes. He ran his fingers over her heated flesh again.
Reya shuddered looking down into his eyes
. Her heart slammed in her chest, her pulse pounding hot through her body.
His eyes, always dark, were leonine, the pupils wide, the irises all but black gold. His beast was so close to the surface, she could feel it batting and playing at hers, teasing, taunting, waiting.
Still watching her eyes, he leaned in and softly blew across her exposed clit. His eyes never wavered as he closed the distance and licked her from bottom to top and down again.
Chills danced over her skin. Tension coiled tightly with her, pooling at the base of her spine, spreading to her gut, wetting her arousal.
As if he had all the time in the world, he licked, teased, stroked and kept her on the brink of insanity.
“You are mine, Reya.” He twirled his tongue around the bundle of nerves that begged for his attention. One long finger pierced her. “You are mine to protect, to avenge, to comfort. Now tell me what’s wrong.”
Then tension coiled tighter inside her. Tighter. His finger stilled.
“Tell me, baby,” he whispered.
She opened her mouth, a dark image long buried spiked through her mind.
…You are mine, Precious…
Pain coursed through her and she screamed.
Reya startled, shoving the blackness away.
When she looked down, Lo’s eyes were narrowed to slits. Anger tightened the long contours of his face, pulled the skin across his high, wide cheek bones. The stubble of beard he’d had for the last week, made him look lethal.
As if he’d need it.
“What the hell was that?” he asked, softly.
Keeping her gaze on him, her eyes filled with tears. There were some things she could never tell him. Never. Some powers were too strong even for Lorenzo to defeat.
Her fingers speared into his hair. “Your mine to protect as well.”
The finger within her moved and she leaned against the tiles, moaning. His mouth and hands were merciless. Finally, finally the brink stood just out of reach.
His hands and mouth left her. Standing, his skin, chest, stomach and thighs brushing hers, he looked into her eyes.
“We’ll finish this later.” He moved her aside and reached for the shampoo.
Bastard.
She reached for him, wrapping her fingers around his length. He stilled, sucked in a breath just as he squeezed creamy shampoo into his hand. “We will?”
His eyes, still angry were answer enough. “Yeah, we will.”
He quickly washed off, turned her and slathered soap across her skin and shampoo over her hair. She let him, concentrating on keeping her shields in place. Between wondering if she were pregnant, the worry at the back of her mind that something was wrong, and the old nightmare images, there were too many things she wanted to work out herself before talking about them. Everyone deserved some privacy, damn it.
Of course, Lo would never see it that way. She could feel him trying to read her, feel his power pushing against hers. Water sprayed in her face, slicked down her body as he washed her off. Not speaking, his features still hard, he rubbed the towel over her, drying her off. He then wrapped it around himself and motioned her back to the bedroom.
“I need my robe,” she said.
Staring into her eyes, he shook his head. “Get on the bed, Reya.”
Anger bit through her. Though she knew she’d pushed him enough in the last months, he was normally more patient, calmer over her pushing him away than she’d ever have given him credit for.
Looked like that had changed. He knew something was wrong, sensed it.
Without a word, she walked to the bedroom, and felt him behind her. At the bed, she climbed up and lay down, waiting.
He leaned against the bathroom doorway. His arms were crossed over his chest. He was just under six feet of corded muscle, his biceps bulging slightly, his chest and abdomen tight, yet not overly so. He was lithe and predatory. His eyes were still narrowed on hers, his wet hair hung over his forehead, past his harsh slash of brows, grazing the tops of his shoulders. The white towel hung low on his hips, a scar slashing across one hip bone, another across his chest.
And still she felt him pushing against her.
“Why won’t you claim before The Council to be mine?”
She didn’t answer.
“If you, if I, were anyone else, all it would take would be me claiming you. That would be the end of it. But The Council knows you, Reya, they know me, they know our history.” He pushed away from the doorway, his steps mirroring his feline therianthrope. Slow. Steady. Stalking.
Reya stayed quiet. What he spoke was the truth.
“They want a confirmation or denial, and I’ll be damned before you ever give them a denial,” he quietly growled. He stopped at the edge of the bed and his power punched her straight in the gut, pooling and coiling lower.
One corner of his mouth tilted, but his eyes remained angry.
His lids lowered. “Turn over.”
Reya licked her lips. Shit. “Uh—Lo, I don’t think—“
“Turn over, Reya, don’t make me ask again.”
For one moment, she stared at him. Yet she complied. The down comforter was soft beneath her cooling skin. What would he do if she did make him ask again?
He chuckled. Then whispered warm in her ear. “Do you really want to find out?”
Did she?
Rising up on her elbows, she started to answer but the doorbell interrupted.
Still he only stared at her. The doorbell rang again.
“Do. Not. Move.” He turned, grabbed his wallet from the bathroom and strode from the room.
She heard the rumble of his voice as he spoke, heard the door slam, heard the pizza box thud in the kitchen.
Apparently her mate had decided to play his alpha role. Sometimes he could be a royal pain in the ass, but damn if she didn’t love him. And damn if she wasn’t turned on.
Two could play this game.
She sat up, kneeling on the bed, then curled over, laying her cheek on her stacked hands.
Reya felt him, before she heard him. “I told you not to move. But this…”
Chapter Three
Lorenzo froze in the doorway, at the site before him. Reya lay on his bed, not lay exactly. Her long, willowy body curled and waiting for him, all of her open and ready.
Damn. He breathed deep and smelled her arousal on the air.
His dick twitched and rose more insistently against the towel. He’d leave it on for now. Taking another deep breath, he strode to the bed and swatted her ass. Once, twice.
“This I could get used to, Reya.” He smoothed his hands over her ass, then up her back, before trailing a finger back down again.
The thought she was trying to distract him crossed his mind and maybe she was. But before this night was over, he would remind her who he was, who she was to him.
“God you’re beautiful.” He ran his hand down her back again, leaned in and kissed her nape, felt her shudder under him, even before his hands reached around and sought her breasts.
Her nipples, already pebbled seemed to seek out his fingers. He smiled, tweaked, caressed and breathed deep.
“I’ll make you beg tonight, Ree,” he told her, pressing against her, still playing his fingers across her nipples. Her back rose against his chest with her inhalation. Lo grazed his hand over her soft stomach, twirled across her belly button, then walked his fingers lower…and lower, stopping at her pubic bone. “But I will not give you want you want until you’re honest with me, until you tell me what’s bothering you.” He raked his fingers across her clit, pulling a moan from deep in her throat before he sank one finger deep.
She was so wet and hot.
Damn.
He stroked her with his hands, felt her shudder, loved the way she tried to arch against him, pressed back into him. She moaned again.
“What’s wrong, Reya?” He licked a line on her shoulder, up her neck, to behind her ear.
She turned her face, her open mouth kiss as hot and wet as her slit. L
ust whip-lashed him, roared through his blood. But love, the need to know, the need to control, held him.
He stilled his hands. “Who’s your mate?”
She tried to arch into his hand, but his other on her hip kept her still.
“Who is your mate, Reya?” he growled.
He strummed her clit.
“Y-you.”
Lo stopped, spread her hair over her other shoulder and trailed his tongue over the nape of her neck. Goosebumps prickled her skin.
“Who?”
“You.”
He wrapped her long wet strands, around and around his hand. “And as your mate, I have control over you, don’t I?”
He thrust his finger into her wet sheath, then withdrew it, only to sink it deeper. “Don’t I?”
She whimpered and nodded.
“Why are you afraid?”
He felt it, the sharp talonned beast of fear sinking through her shields and straight into him.
He froze.
She tried to pull away from him, but he didn’t let her. Instead he moved closer, shifted, so that the towel fell from his hips and his shaft nestled against her naked flesh.
“Lo, please,” she whispered.
What the hell had her so scared?
But then he felt her heat, her wetness on him and he strained for control. He played her again, stroked her back to writhing against him, wet and ready and so damn hot. “You’ll tell me, Reya.”
He unwound his hand from her hair, gripped her hips and played at the edge of her opening. She shuddered, moaned and shifted.
“Lorenzo!”
He inched in, then pulled out, inched in just a bit more, then withdrew. “Do you want me?”
She growled, pissed.
He might have smiled, but he’d felt her fear.
“Tell me,” he whispered, gently as he slid back inside her. His hands glided up her ribcage, drew circles on the soft sides of her breasts.
“I—I…”
Shifter Fated Mates: Boxed Set Page 18
