Curves for Shifters

by Zoey Thames

  Jackson only leaned back in his seat and sipped his martini. Aaron wanted a stiff drink himself. Alcohol always helped calm the wolf inside, and wolves were not thrilled to be flying through the air at six hundred miles an hour.

  Aaron pressed ahead, despite the other man’s silence. “What the hell are you thinking? She’s only a woman trying to do her job.”

  “She’s a human, and she’s seen things she shouldn’t have.” Jackson paused, narrowing his eyes. His nostrils flared slightly. “You stink of pheromones.” His lips twisted into a smirk. “No wonder you want me to apologize to her. You can’t have me, so any port in a storm, correct? Or should I say, any hole for your cock?”

  Aaron’s mind didn’t have time to think before he lunged at the other man and yanked him to his feet. The drink went flying, spilling over the leather. He pulled Jackson close, intending to tell him exactly where he could stuff his crude words and all his suspicions. But even as the growl escaped his lips, Jackson was shifting his weight, dropping, turning, and throwing Aaron through the air in a martial arts move that he barely had time to register.

  He crashed onto the mahogany table bolted to the plane. He slid across it and tumbled off, hitting the floor with a thump. He sprang back to his feet, growling low, his alpha-power flaring to life. Jackson had all the fighting skill Aaron expected from a mixed martial artist. But that wouldn’t stop him from kicking the other man’s ass to teach him some manners. Had he really just kissed this man, wanting to hold him, to fuck him, only an hour ago?

  “Don’t touch the threads,” Jackson said casually, brushing out the wrinkles Aaron’s hands had left in his suit.

  Aaron cracked his knuckles as he stalked toward the other man. “Your mama clearly didn’t teach you any manners. But I think I’m more than up to the task—”

  “Is everything okay out there?” Michelle’s voice called from behind him. He turned to see the door open a crack and one of her pretty brown eyes staring at him.

  He managed to swallow his anger at Jackson and flash her a wide smile. “Nothing to worry about, Michelle. We were only…negotiating.”

  Jackson snorted and favored him with a sour smile. But the look he turned to Michelle was dark. “You should make yourself scarce, human, unless you want to be locked in the bathroom.”

  She shut the door quickly. Aaron heard her footsteps retreating deeper into the room. He wheeled on Jackson.

  “When did you turn into such a prick?” he demanded. “The Jackson I knew would never treat anyone that way. Human, shifter, rich, poor. That Jackson was a gentleman.”

  Something flashed in the other man’s eyes for a moment—pain or doubt—but it was immediately replaced by anger.

  “She is a spy. Maybe she’s even been hired by you to blackmail me into accepting your terms.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. It won’t work.”

  “You are paranoid and you aren’t even making sense. Nobody hired her for blackmail. I hired her for limo driving. Nobody cares that we shared a kiss. Hell, Jackson, the whole world knew we were involved once. And by ‘involved,’ I mean—” He almost said “in love” but caught himself at the last second. “—fucking each other. It isn’t a surprise. It’s also not a surprise that you want your two-bit security company to work on the East Coast.”

  “People have made me paranoid. But you’re the one who is thinking with his dick here. She could go to Wall Street with whatever she learned here tonight, manipulate the price of our stock. Harm our companies with rumors.”

  Aaron only shook his head. His voice sounded sad, even to his own ears. “You used to be a better man.”

  Jackson settled back on his chair and frowned at the spilled martini. “I’m happy to disappoint you. And get used to the feeling. When the council rules my way, I’ll take a huge chunk of the East Coast business. But I hope you can take comfort in how polite you were to the little human we kidnapped. Because that’s all you’ll have when I’m done.”

  He had to use every bit of self-control not to attack Jackson again. Damn, the man was arrogant and infuriating. “So you’re determined to go through with this insanity? Dragging the council out over a business dispute?”

  “It is a formal challenge. Two alphas. Only one can win.” He nodded darkly at the closed bedroom door. “But you have my permission to see the lady home.”

  Aaron took his own seat across from his former lover, knowing there was nothing left to say. He stared out the window at the clear night sky as the plane raced its way toward Chicago. In a few hours or so this would be over, one way or another.

  So why did he feel like he had already lost?

  * * *

  An hour or so later, the private jet touched down on an auxiliary runway at O’Hare, away from the rush and bustle of the main terminal. A case of the nerves hit Michelle again as the plane slowly taxied along the tarmac. Her heart began beating hard, thudding in her chest like a drum. Her mouth was dry, and she suddenly felt too cold. She folded her arms across her chest, hiding her hands under the armpits of her uniform jacket to warm them. It was a trick she’d used in elementary school when she was waiting for the bus. It kept her hands warm and stopped anyone from seeing them tremble.

  When Aaron Duvall knocked and entered the stateroom, he didn’t seem fooled for an instant by her attempt to act calm. The expression on his face was sympathetic, his eyes kind, but that only made her feel more flustered. She had to resist the urge to scamper to a mirror and check how she looked. Was her hair a disaster? The seat of her uniform slacks all wrinkled? Uniform tie askew? It wasn’t fair that a man so handsome and imposing should make a lady feel all out of sorts. She almost held it against him.

  Almost.

  “How are you doing, Michelle?” he asked, his gaze direct and so focused on her that it was easy to believe how she felt at the moment really mattered to him. A skill like that must get the women to drop their panties fast, she warned herself. Heaven knew she felt like going to her knees in front of him right now, unzipping that fly, and seeing what he was hiding behind those three-thousand dollar slacks. Would he be wearing some fancy, imported silk underwear? Or going commando—?

  He touched her shoulder gently as concern furrowed his brow. “Are you okay?”

  She jerked herself out of her distracting fantasy. “Of course, Mr. Duvall.” She was perfectly fine. Every other day she was kidnapped by two blazing-hot billionaire werewolves and stowed on a private luxury jet. By now it was practically boring.

  A smirk curved his mouth. “Please. Call me Aaron, remember?”

  “I bet you say that to all the women you abduct.” The words shot out of her mouth before her mind could reel them back. Oh shit. That was not how a Mirage employee talked to a client.

  Of course, her job description mentioned nothing of kidnappings either.

  Aaron stared at her for one long moment before throwing his head back and laughing. The sound was loud in the jet, but very heart-lifting. It was a happy sound. A sound she found herself taking comfort in.

  “I love your mouth,” he said. The words actually made her blush. Her. As if she were some kind of innocent maid. Then he gently took her folded arms and drew her hands out of where they hid, clamped beneath her armpits. He shifted his touch to her hands themselves, clasping them in both of his large, powerful hands. His skin was so warm it sent a shudder of delight through her.

  She wanted those hands on her skin…everywhere. She wanted him touching her, all over.

  God, what had gotten in to her tonight? It was as if she’d gone into heat or something. Yeah, it had been awhile since she’d been laid. Since that douche nozzle Sebastian had cheated on her and then fired her, in fact. But her internal teakettle shouldn’t be whistling this hard.

  But it was. It sure as hell was.

  “Don’t be nervous,” Aaron said, his expression growing serious. “Remember what I said. I’ll be there to protect you. Trust me.”

  When someone said “trust me,” common sense
said to do the exact opposite. But right now she found herself trusting him. She nodded, biting her lip. It was hard to think with him touching her hands.

  Jackson pushed open the door. His cold blue eyes narrowed as he looked at her hands enveloped in Aaron’s hands. His mouth tightened. “If you two are finished with your comedy routine,” he said, his words like ice chips, “we have a limo waiting for us.” He turned and left.

  “Someone has their knickers in a twist,” Aaron said to her, winking. She bit her cheek to stop from laughing.

  “I heard that,” Jackson snapped. “Werewolf hearing, you imbecile.”

  Aaron’s grin widened and he whispered the words, “Jealous twisted knickers.”

  This time she couldn’t help her laughter.

  There was security everywhere after they landed. Lots of big men in suits, all appearing imposing and dangerous. She felt some of them looking her way. It was a challenge to keep her chin up and her nervousness at bay, but she did it. If any of them were wondering who the human chauffeur was and exactly what she was doing accompanying two powerful, rich men, they kept their opinions to themselves. And that’s where those opinions should stay, she thought with a nod.

  One of the crew lowered the plane’s clamshell-style door and extended the stairs. The three of them made their way down the stairs, Jackson in the lead, Aaron behind her. Then they all stopped and stared at the black stretch limo that waited for them nearby. A woman chauffeur, blond, curvy, pretty, stood at attention with the passenger compartment door open for them. Michelle didn’t know her, but from her uniform, she was another Mirage employee. She felt an immediate sense of camaraderie.

  It was also going to be weird being the one driven around tonight. She’d never ridden in the back of a limo before, strange as that might seem. She’d cleaned it out plenty of times and she’d routinely done set up on the champagne and snacks in the passenger compartment. But ridden in back? That was for paying customers.

  Still, the problem was simple to see. There was only one limo. Which meant they would all have to ride together. Awkward.

  Jackson’s frown darkened his face. He stormed over to the chauffeur. “I’m Jackson Smith. I was told there would be a limo waiting for me.” His eyes narrowed. “Me alone.”

  The blond chauffeur smiled. Her voice was sweet. “I’m sorry, sir. This is the limo that the High Council sent for you. Their instructions were specific. Only one car was to be sent.”

  Michelle had to admire the woman’s poise as she and Aaron made their way over and remained a little ways behind Jackson. She did notice the other chauffeur’s gaze lingering on each of the men, which sparked a brief flash of jealousy…well, jealousy about her ogling Aaron, anyway. The woman could have Jackson to herself if she could stomach the alpha-Dom attitude and all that glowering.

  Then the other woman met her gaze and her smile widened. She nodded at Michelle, and the personal warmth coming off her was unmistakable. “I’m Sara from Mirage Confidential. I’ll be your driver tonight.”

  Michelle felt a little silly for being jealous. It wasn’t as if she had any claim to either of these men. Aside from the fact that they’d technically kidnapped her. She wasn’t ready to let that one go yet, twenty grand or no.

  “Pleased to meet you, Sara,” Aaron said. “Don’t let Mr. Smith bother you. He’d probably prefer to ride on the roof rather than with me.”

  Jackson turned on Aaron, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Is this thing with the limo another one of your pathetic schemes?”

  “Hey, you know more about it than I do,” Aaron replied, raising his hands defensively. “You were the one who offered the challenge. Feel free to ride behind us in the security SUVs. They don’t have champagne, though.” He glanced at Michelle and smiled. “Or such charming company, for that matter.”

  “You are so very amusing,” Jackson replied, his tone dripping with acid.

  “You used to think so.” This time, Aaron’s words sounded wistful. They even struck her as a bit sad.

  There was a heavy silence between the two men as they stared at each other. Then Jackson turned to the other chauffeur. “I suppose this will be acceptable. Thank you.” He climbed gracefully into the back of the limo.

  Aaron swept his hand toward the open door for her. “After you, my lady.”

  Michelle’s cheeks heated. She must have looked like a stop sign, her face was so red. “Thank you, but I just need a moment…”

  “Of course.” Aaron gave Michelle’s hand a gentle squeeze and nodded to the blonde chauffeur before climbing into the back of the limo himself.

  Michelle hesitated a moment longer. Sara, still holding the door open, mimed a relieved gesture of wiping the sweat off her brow. That made Michelle cough to hold back a burst of laughter. They shared a silent moment, two Mirage girls who had to deal with the rich, famous, and powerful. She had wanted to check in with the other driver, see if everything was okay back in New York. But before she could speak, the blond woman nodded and gave her a thumbs-up. Then she grinned and jerked her head toward the open door of the limo, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

  Michelle couldn’t help it. She waggled her eyebrows right back before she climbed inside. There had certainly been more than the usual allowance of suggestive eyebrow-waggles tonight. She suppressed another giggle.

  Jackson spent most of the first part of their ride through Chicago on his cell phone, talking in a low voice. He was seated farthest from them, while Aaron sat next to her. She was very aware of his presence, sensitive to every time he moved, any moment he accidentally brushed against her. His body gave off heat that her body seemed to respond to on an instinctual level. Her desire simmered away, ready to flare up in an instant, despite her attempts to quench it.

  Sara drove with the privacy guard up, giving them space. Aaron offered Michelle some champagne—Dom Pérignon—and she gladly accepted. It was the first time she’d ever had any. The bubbles tickled her as she sipped.

  Aaron seemed to notice. His smile was conspiratorial. “The first time I had this, my wolf couldn’t stand it. Made me sneeze. I sneezed Dom all over my date.” He leaned back as if taking pride in a job well done. “While it wasn’t the sexiest moment of my life, it certainly was memorable.”

  She giggled. He did have a talent for making her feel at ease, and for that she was deeply grateful. But as at-ease as he made her feel, his incredible looks and his rock-hard body put her on edge with a constant, undeniable flame of craving and need. She kept glancing at his lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. To have those lips kissing along her skin. Down her throat. To her nipples. Lower. To her pussy. That tongue, teasing her, driving her out of her mind—

  Jackson ended his call and shoved his cell phone in a suit jacket pocket. He glared her way. “Well, it seems you check out after all.”

  His sudden words broke her little fantasy and jerked an involuntary gasp out of her. She shifted, rubbing her thighs together to take a little of the lustful edge off. She had to be careful. She’d heard werewolves could scent if you were turned on. But when she glanced at Aaron with her cheeks heating, she saw he was only focused on Jackson.

  “I told you as much,” Aaron replied. His voice thrummed with command, and she felt her body respond to that no-nonsense tone. In that moment he sounded every bit an alpha, every bit a man used to giving orders and having them obeyed.

  Jackson turned an impassive face his way. “Like I said, she checks out…for now.” He shifted his blue eyes to her, and she did her best not to squirm under the scrutiny. “But every spy has a good cover story.”

  She lifted her chin. “I wish I was a spy. Then I would karate-kick your ass for not believing I’m not a spy.”

  Both men stared at her. The silence in the car drew out awkwardly.

  Finally, a smile curved Jackson’s lips. “You realize that doesn’t really make a bit of sense.”

  The man had smiled. It was shocking. She didn’t think she’d seen that e
xpression on his face. Ever.

  “And yet it’s the straight truth,” she said, then hid behind a sip of champagne.

  Aaron touched her knee. Even through the black material of her uniform slacks, she felt his heat, and desire zinged all the way from her pussy to her brain, shooting fireworks off the entire time.

  “She has that fire,” Aaron said to Jackson, grinning.

  Jackson’s smile lingered. It was the first time he’d looked at her with anything other than suspicion and distrust. He nodded once. “With an attitude like that, she could even work security for me.”

  She didn’t know what to say, so she sipped more of her Dom. She’d have to be careful too. The stuff was so darn good it was dangerous. But then again, maybe she’d buy herself a bottle after she earned her twenty grand payoff for being kidnapped by rich and crazy werewolves.

  Five-star hotels. Luxury jets. Dom Pérignon. Twenty-grand. Two stunning men on her arm. Well, one stunning man and one stunning, suspicious jerk who looked like an angry Viking in a business suit.

  This night could not get any wilder.

  But about that, she was wrong.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Jackson clenched his fists, fighting the urge to shift. Fighting his inner wolf with every bit of strength he had in him.

  The Chicago city lights streamed past as the limo streaked toward the downtown lakefront building where his formal challenge would be heard and judged. He tried not to notice Aaron, although every nerve in his body seemed to jump any time the other man moved. He wished they could simply meet in the ring and battle it out like men. Simple. Primal. Direct. If he could only beat the man, he could finally get him out of his system.

  He could finally be at peace with the fact that his mate did not love him. Not enough to believe in him anyway.

  But that damn kiss…

  He gritted his teeth, pain wrenching through him, making him feel as if his insides were being crushed into a tiny ball. That kiss had drawn his wolf out. That kiss had claimed him.