by Kate Rudolph
He pressed his lips to the flesh of her thigh, taking the first taste of her that he’d dreamt of for years. He was fully a man now, more experienced than he’d been eight years ago. But she was still the best thing that he had ever tasted. And he hadn’t even gotten to the best part.
He licked against the pulse in her leg, feeling her heart speed up as he made his way closer and closer to her center. And when his lips found home, she gasped, her legs clenching around him as her pelvis arched up. Mac took his time, savoring her wetness, delving his tongue deep into her folds.
Her fingers once more found their way to his hair where she held him against her sex.
Mac could have feasted on her for an eternity. He felt her come apart for him twice and wanted to give her more. But the insistent pulse in his own trousers couldn’t wait much longer. He didn’t want to spend in his jeans when Gemma was laid out in front of him.
He shucked off his trousers and towered over her. She looked up at him with lust-addled eyes, drinking in his form.
If she kept looking at him like that, Mac would do anything she asked.
She moved back, giving him room to join her on the bed. Mac kissed her again, his lips urgent against hers. Her fingers took his cock in hand, delicate against the straining length. Mac groaned. Had anything ever felt so good? He couldn’t remember, he didn’t care.
There was nothing except the two of them and the insistent pleasure that bound them.
Gemma guided him to her entrance and as he slid inside her, Mac fought the frantic urge to claim her as his mate. Not yet, he knew. If he tried, she would reject him. And he could not live with that.
He bit the claim back, focusing instead on her every reaction. The hitch in her breath as he slid against a particularly sensitive spot, her eyes dilating in pleasure, the harsh gasps that heralded her orgasm followed quickly by the shuddering of her cunt around his cock.
They were in perfect sync, their motions mirrors for each other. Gemma urged him faster and Mac sped up, bucking inside her.
He was so close, only his need to see her come one more time kept him from spilling inside her. But when she arched her neck back and cried out, Mac exploded. Pleasure blinded him, his vision going pure white for a moment while a harsh yell tore from his chest.
He heaved over her, more sated than he could remember and yearning already for more.
Mac lay down beside her and pulled Gemma close, his arms a vise around her. Gemma snuggled in and Mac closed his eyes, content for the first time in ages.
Chapter Six
Gemma couldn’t remember the last time she woke with a smile. Mac had an arm draped possessively across her and his hand rested almost negligently on her breast. She knew that if she kissed him they could spend the rest of the morning in a delightful tangle of limbs.
But it was time for business.
With all of the care that she would take to diffuse a bomb, Gemma lifted up Mac’s arm and rolled off the bed, landing on her feet with a clap of skin against the hardwood.
“Ten points for the dismount, but I’ll need to deduct a half point for the flip.” Mac applauded.
Gemma was insanely proud of herself for not reaching for the blanket to cover her nakedness, despite the fact that she was twenty-eight years old and had grown accustomed to her curves. The hunger in Mac’s eyes didn’t hurt.
“I was trying to let you sleep,” she said.
“No use sleeping if the best part of the bed is going to abandon me,” he whined with a smile.
Gemma felt her own lips pulling up. “If you’re like this after one night, how are you going to behave after a month?” She’d meant it as a joke, but it hung out between them and they both grew serious.
Mac reached for her hand and kissed her palm. “I suppose we’ll wait and see.”
Gemma watched him kiss her and only pulled back when he attempted to suck on one of her fingers. “Come along, lover boy. We have work to do.”
They both got dressed, but Gemma beat Mac to the kitchen table where she set up her computer and pulled up information on ways into London from Europe.
When Mac joined her, his hair was still wet and he made sure she’d taken a look at his naked chest before pulling his shirt on. “Is there any news?” He asked.
Gemma shook her head. “Earliest Lee will call is tonight. I’m attempting to figure out how Rebecca is most likely to enter the city. Probably a car, most likely stolen, and she’ll be operating under a fake name until Nigel gives her safe haven.”
“If that happens we’re screwed.”
Gemma agreed. It was one thing to grab a fugitive from another man’s territory and another to make him break a vow of safety. “Then we’ll make sure that we find her before she gets to Nigel.”
They worked through the day, scouring boat schedules and mapping routes into London. Gemma put a call into an old contact who could tap into several broad CCTV networks and had him look out for any women matching Rebecca Patrick’s picture.
The only interruption in their work was when Mac went to pick up food for lunch. They decided by unspoken agreement that he would not be cooking any more meals in the flat, they wouldn’t risk burning the place down.
By nine that night Gemma knew she could give a detailed account of every road leading into and out of London, but she was still no closer to knowing where Rebecca was or when she would enter the city. The crease in Mac’s brow suggested that he felt the same way.
He pushed back from the table and was about to speak before the ringing of her mobile cut him off.
Gemma answered with a clipped, “I’m here.”
“After your performance last night, I’d hardly expect you to sound so tense,” Lee practically purred.
“You didn’t call to flirt.”
“No, I didn’t.” His tone shifted, now all business. “One of my boys had eyes on your girl an hour ago. He’s keeping her entertained if you want to perform the extraction.”
“Give me the address.”
When Lee gave her all of the pertinent information, she turned to Mac. “She’s here. Shall we go collect her?”
She expected excitement from Mac, or at least relief. Instead, he looked weary. “That seems quick.”
Gemma crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “Do you think he’s lying? Lee is too afraid of me to lie.”
“That was more than two years ago.” Mac ran a hand through his hair before lacing his fingers and placing his hands on the table. “I don’t doubt you, but it’s been less than twenty-four hours. How did he find her?”
“The longer we sit her, the more opportunity she has to get away. Lee has hundreds of people throughout the city, if he put his resources to task he could have easily found her.” But Gemma could see that Mac didn’t believe that. “Once I asked him to find a man who had stolen from Constantine. I had him on my doorstep three hours later. This after the entire city could not find him for more than a week.”
“I’m concerned that we may be walking into a trap. But you’re the one that knows Lee. You tell me. Will he betray you?”
Gemma stood up, she wouldn’t lie to Mac about the odds. “Sixty/forty in our favor. So shall we go?”
Mac nodded, “Let’s.”
Mac was once again in the passenger seat of the car while Gemma drove them. It took nearly an hour to reach their destination, all the while the buildings became more and more decrepit. They passed between residential areas and warehouse districts before ending in an abandoned lot surrounded by crumbling warehouses that had been built in the last century.
Gemma put the car in park and turned to him. “Make that forty/sixty,” she said. “This doesn’t look like the type of place Rebecca Patrick would choose to frequent.”
Mac agreed. The only people he’d seen in the last ten minutes were the homeless who crowded into a few of the hollowed out buildings. Even they had disappeared over the last several blocks. Now the streets were deserted but for Mac and Gemma.
&
nbsp; “We can just drive back to the flat,” Mac offered.
Gemma steeled her spine and shook her head. “No, if Rebecca’s in there this could be our only chance to retrieve her. And if Lee isn’t betraying us he’ll never work with me again.”
“Because you trust your instincts?”
She looked over and it was all Mac could do to keep from smiling at the look on her face. “No,” she said. “You and I both know that there are rules for dealing with his type.”
Though part of him wanted to make a crack at exactly what type Lee was, Mac held back. He reached over and grabbed Gemma’s hand, squeezing it in his own. “Then let’s go in there and get her.”
Gemma exited the car without another word. Mac followed close behind, keeping his eyes peeled for any attack. After more than five minutes, he started to think that Lee had lied to them, but he hadn’t betrayed them.
They explored the old warehouse. It was huge, could easily fit more than a football pitch, and from the looks of it, completely empty. A few old boxes and palettes were placed haphazardly around the floor, but Mac could see from one door clear across to the other and there was absolutely nothing to see.
But Gemma seemed to know something that he didn’t. She walked along the side of the wall, ducking past a huge rusted hole to avoid being seen by the outside. He didn’t see the door that she opened until she disappeared into the wall. Despite the decrepit condition, the hinges were nearly silent.
Perhaps this warehouse wasn’t as seldom used as it seemed.
A naked bulb hung from the ceiling, but Gemma walked past the light switch and Mac followed her lead. If anyone was at the end of this hall, they didn’t need to advertise their arrival. But the hall was so dark that Mac could barely see, even with his enhanced shifter vision.
He could faintly hear sounds from the end of the hallway. If Rebecca was in this building, that had to be where she was.
Gemma froze in the middle of the hallway and Mac bumped into her before stopping. Without a word, she turned and pushed him back, forcing him back the way they came at a sprint. It wasn’t until they were out in the warehouse that she started chanting, “Run, run, run.”
Mac ran. They crossed through the abandoned warehouse and almost made it to the door when he heard pounding footsteps behind him. Gemma spun around, slamming into him and dragging him to the ground as a huge black wolf vaulted over right where he had been standing.
Mac felt the shift rip through him, fingers turning to claws, his mouth to a snout filled with sharp teeth. Fur sprouted as he hunched forward, howling out in the pain caused by the rapid speed of his change.
The black wolf aimed for Gemma, trying to attack her. Mac pounced, ripping into him and pulling him back from her. He had no thought other than to protect Gemma. His teeth were in the wolf’s throat and he tore, blood spurting from the wound. The wolf went limp and Mac tossed it aside with a whip of his head.
Gemma stood back up and Mac saw that the wolf hadn’t come alone. Three more men stood in the hallway at quite a distance away. He bared his teeth, growling, daring them to challenge him and his woman.
The men charged them, one shifting mid-stride to become a huge gray wolf equal in size to Mac. The other two stayed human and loomed toward Gemma. Mac wanted to help her, but the wolf was too quick, digging into his leg with its paws and tearing a healthy swath of fur from Mac’s flank.
It was a fight of teeth and claws. This time Mac had no element of surprise and this wolf was a skilled fighter. They tussled, growling and barking, each able to wound but neither able to kill.
The fight took them across the floor and Mac slammed into a wall where he saw a dilapidated flight of metal stairs that looked about ready to disintegrate into a pile of rust and metal shards. Regardless, he bounded up, leading the other wolf away from where Gemma and the other two men fought.
He spared a second to look at her, but his worry was unfounded, she had knives in each hand and clearly knew how to use him.
The second almost cost him, but he dove forward to avoid the gray wolf’s swipe. They were on a walkway several meters above the ground and with each jump and step the metal wobbled. If the wolf didn’t kill him, the fall might.
They grappled for position. One moment Mac had the wolf pinned, the next they were tumbling apart as part of the walkway gave way under them, steel crashing to the floor with a deafening sound. Unfortunately for Mac, he was now separated from the stairs by a large gap and a looming wolf. Though once the gray wolf saw he was trapped, he turned around and bounded back towards the stairs, ready to make the fight three on one against Gemma.
Mac backed up as much as he could and sprinted, jumping the gap and landing soundly on the other side. But his sudden weight was enough to displace the rest of the walkway and it started to pull away from the building. Mac swiped at the gray wolf from behind and bounded ahead of him, trying to clear the stairs before everything crashed down.
He was hit by falling debris as he made it to the floor, but the other wolf wasn’t so lucky. Mac heard an anguished yelp before the wolf was covered and sliced by the falling metal.
Mac limped back to Gemma. She clearly needed no help from him. The two other werewolves were dead at her feet and she cleaned her knives as she watched him approach.
“You were right,” she said. “It was a trap.”
Mac watched her through his wolf’s eyes. She held herself tightly, but her hands trembled. Despite the pain and injury, he shifted back to his human form, now a naked and bleeding man before her. But that didn’t matter, not to either of them. He pulled her close, careful to avoid her knives and kissed the crook of her neck. “We’re okay, Gem.”
She sheathed her knives and returned his embrace, silent and shaking.
After a long moment, she pulled back, her expression grave. “Thanks. I wasn’t expecting this.”
Whether that was the entire reason for her reaction or not, Mac didn’t press. “Then we need to come up with a new strategy to find Rebecca and get the hell out of here.”
She grabbed his hand and led him back to the car where they found some ratty old joggers for him to pull on in the boot. And for every glance he saw Gemma throw his way, Mac had to clench his thigh and think of the hardest maths problems that he knew. This wasn’t the time for seduction.
By the time they got back to the flat, whatever adrenaline had flooded their systems was long gone and they were both on the edge of exhaustion. It was Mac’s only excuse for why he didn’t notice that the bedroom door was open when it had been closed when they left. He only noticed when he saw the light on in the other room.
By then it was too late. He felt the blow to his skull a second before there was a prick in his shoulder and everything went black.
Chapter Seven
They were in a cell at Nigel’s estate. Gemma had been locked up here before and the smell hadn’t changed. Her eyes were covered and her hands bound. Mac was somewhere to the left of her and there were no guards around.
Nigel wasn’t that dumb.
If there were no guards, there was a good reason for it. Gemma couldn’t worry about that yet. She was a little sore but uninjured, but she didn’t know Mac’s state.
She was sitting on a cold stone floor and what little movement she could manage wasn’t promising. The stone beneath her and the wall behind her were solid and smooth, if another solution didn’t present itself, she would need to bite through the ropes binding her. It wouldn’t be pleasant.
Gemma pulled the blindfold down so it hung around her neck and let out a sigh of relief when it gave with no resistance. She opened her eyes and let them adjust to the surprisingly bright light of their cell. This cellar had no windows and she didn’t know how far below the ground they were, but the naked bulb in the middle of the room made it as bright as the noonday sun.
Mac was still out, slumped to the side, his hands bound and eyes covered just as hers had been. Gemma crawled across the floor and knelt beside him, rem
oving his blindfold and checking him for injuries. She couldn’t see any vicious wounds on his naked torso. He’d more or less healed from the earlier fight. But the slight bruising on his collarbone relieved her.
It meant that they hadn’t been out for more than a few hours.
As Gemma’s bound hands traced Mac’s cheekbone, his breathing changed. He held himself still and his eyes remained closed, but Gemma knew that he was awake.
“It’s me,” she said. “I can’t scent any guards.”
In the bright light, his eyes were almost honey colored when he opened them. His pupils contracted, shrinking to pinpricks. Sweat dotted his brow and he struggled against his bonds. They were tied so tightly that it did nothing except frustrate him.
“How long?” he asked.
There were a dozen ways to answer the question, but Gemma simply shrugged. “Not too long, I think. But I’m sure we’re at Nigel’s estate in one of the cellars.”
He paled, “Fuck.” His head fell back to rest against the wall and he let out a long breath.
Gemma cradled his bound hands in her own. It wasn’t comfortable, but just knowing that Mac was with her was keeping her from going crazy. She sat next to him and leaned in close, their bodies pressed side by side. “About six years ago there was a boarded up staircase at the other end of the hall. The stairs were rickety as shit, but there was a window two flights up. If I were Nigel, I would have bricked it up ages ago.”
Mac turned toward her, his cheek brushing against the top of her head. “You’ve been here before.”
“Yes.” Though it hadn’t been a question, she answered anyway. “I’ll tell you the whole story once we’re safe.” And they would get out of there. Gemma wasn’t going to let Nigel destroy them again.
“How about Tahiti?” asked Mac.
Gemma shot him a puzzled look, “What’s in Tahiti?”
