by Eliza Gayle
“No coming unless I give you permission, Chey. You know the rules.” For his own sanity, he took two steps away from her. The pain in his head warred with the pain in his body. The cat abhorred being caged and reminded Malcolm of that fact every chance it got. In the face of its mate it was even worse.
“I’m going to get dressed.” He disappeared into the other room and then into the closet. His arms and legs trembled with the force of denial he didn’t have the strength for. He needed to fuck her so bad he thought he’d die from it. But the man in him refused. Not until she begged.
He grabbed a pair of faded jeans and quickly slid them up his legs over the briefs he’d worn to sleep in. He searched through the drawer for a clean T-shirt when she stuck her head inside. Again, everything about her surged through him. He took shallow breaths in and out of his mouth, avoiding her scent. If he got even a hint more of arousal they’d both be done. It became imperative that he get her out of his house and as far away from him as possible. He’d leave here tonight.
“You’re still mean as ever, Malcolm, you know that.”
Shocked, he turned and caught her gaze. “How the—”
She held up her hand and showed him the tiny knife. “You didn’t really think I’d come in here unprepared did you?”
Crafty. He liked it. “You can go back and tell my brother whatever it is, I’m not interested. I’m not a part of the clan anymore and I’m not interested in their bullshit.” A sudden, dark thought struck panic in his heart and he turned to face her.
“Nothing has happened to Kane or Lucas right?” He eyed her warily, concern clouding his judgment.
She shook her head. “They’re both healthy, but serious trouble is on the horizon. Lucas is still gone and Kane may be on his way out now too.”
He held up his hand to stop her. “No, don’t tell me. I really don’t care. Their politics is none of my business.”
“Your brother asked me to find you and bring you home, and you think that’s none of your business?” He heard the shock and annoyance coming from her clear as day but he didn’t—no, he couldn’t care. Too much time and trouble had passed between them all, and in his condition he had no choice but to let go of the past. It was the only way he’d keep what little of his sanity he still possessed.
He shoved the drawer closed and stomped his way from the closet. For every step he took in her direction, she took one step back. The lack of fear in her gaze challenged him, made the animal stand up and take notice. She hesitated in front of his bed and images of her spread out and tied to the four posts invaded his thoughts. She had the perfect body for a little bondage play. He could imagine that pale skin of hers pinking up quite nicely after a thorough flogging from him. Would she scream for mercy from his darkest desires or embrace them with her own?
Damn.
On a groan, he shoved the images of her beautiful skin from his mind and turned to walk out the door. He’d noticed the oh-so-subtle change in her breathing as he’d watched her move toward the bed. Her eyes had dilated. He no longer needed his sense of smell to acknowledge her arousal.
“You need to get out now before it’s too late,” he warned on a harsh growl. His teeth elongated and dug into the corners of his mouth. The animal fought for freedom, and if Malcolm could release him he would. Consequences be damned. As it was, with the cougar partially trapped, Malcolm had a few precious seconds of control left to save them both.
“Malcolm, please.”
If he took what he wanted it would be against her will. Mating heat was one thing, really wanting him another. He was a bastard but he wasn’t ready to go that far…yet. She’d made her desires to not be mated to him crystal clear. Her sudden appearance did nothing to wash away the years of hate he’d harbored right alongside the need. That it was mostly hate for himself mattered little at the moment.
“If you don’t get out of my house right this minute, you’ll find yourself backed against the wall with my dick buried inside that sweet smelling pussy before you can even think to pull that knife again. Is that what you want?”
Her eyes grew wide an instant before she backed out of the room and hustled to the other side of the house. Unable to resist, he stalked after her.
At the front door of his home, she twisted the locks loose and wrenched it open. Malcolm held his breath for the relief her disappearance would give him when she suddenly turned back.
“Your family should be more important than your anger with me. Kane needs you. There are lives at stake.”
A sound resembling a laugh and a snarl emitted from his throat. “You can tell Kane you found me and that I refused his request. He’ll still pay you, sweetheart.”
“It isn’t always about the money.”
“Sure it is, darling. Don’t be naïve. Now get the fuck out. Whatever Kane’s problems are, they’re no longer my concern. That ended the moment they escorted me off clan property.”
Fury darkened her features when he motioned her out, a look that did nothing to dampen the arousal beating at his insides. From his experience, anger often led to some of the hottest and most violent sex two people could share. And he could well imagine her giving him a run for his money in a fight. She had to leave now before he lost what little control he still managed to maintain.
“I won’t leave. I have my orders, and one way or another you will go back with me.”
In a lightning fast move, Malcolm grabbed Chey and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against his body. The sudden move gave her no chance to protest. His mouth slanted across hers and his tongue plunged between her parted lips as she tensed against him. He’d planned a hard, demanding kiss to frighten her, but with the first taste of her hot little mouth, he didn’t want a quick sample. Malcolm slid his tongue against hers, savoring her unique flavor that unfolded into his mouth one layer at a time. When her body softened in his arms, relaxing against his chest, he deepened the kiss.
Chey opened to him a little more and he sank deeper than before. He teased her tongue with licks and scrapes of his teeth, his fingers pushing through the braid holding her hair to the back of her head. God help him, he couldn’t get enough. He craved. Ached. Needed it all.
His gut clenched at the dizzying sensations flooding through him. Her small hands traversed the planes of his chest and shoulders, and the desire for her stretched and grew inside him with every passing second. Darkness surrounded him. More. More.
He pulled her tighter into his embrace until the heat of her skin burned him as if no clothing existed between them. Whatever he’d thought he felt all those years ago was nothing compared to the desperation dominating his brain. The faint tremor underneath her skin fed the wild need for so much more. He was spiraling out of control.
When a small needy whimper sounded from her, his animal growled in response. The hunger for her erupted just below the surface as he struggled to remember what he’d been about to do before he kissed her. Sharp little claws from her hands busted through the thin fabric of his shirt and poked at his skin, an aggressive move that fueled the firestorm between them.
He savored her heat for a minute more before turning her body toward the door and forcing himself, in an act of sheer desperation and against his own will, to push her away and out the front door.
“Don’t forget to tell my brother I said thanks but no thanks for the tease too. Okay, babe?”
“Why you—”
With that, he shut the door in her face and slammed the locks home. He gulped in some deep breaths, rested his forehead against the cool wood and did his best to deal with a racing heart. Everything in him wanted to open that door and drag her back inside. To show her what the real him inside really needed from her: rough, raw and animalistic. His body raged with the desperation of it. The shaking began in his hands and quickly raced through his extremities. Pain cramped his muscles, forcing him to his knees. But it was the howling in his head that drove him mad. Fuck. He deserved a fucking saint award for this. No m
an in his right mind would be able to resist the perfection of Cheyenne Ross.
“You bastard.” The door did not muffle the sound of her voice or the anger rolling off her. But they would both be better off for this. At least she would. Five long years ago, he’d made his bed with her and now he suffered for it. Her arrival meant trouble for him with a capital T. If she didn’t heed his warning and get the hell out of this town they’d both be sorry.
He pushed away from the door, his arms hung by his sides as if weighted down by lead. As for his brother… Whatever the problem, Kane was on his own. The elders had known exactly what was happening to Malcolm and had shown indifference. He still remained banished indefinitely. He wasn’t about to return at their whim for another whipping or as a savior. They’d forced him to move on as best he could. Now they could too.
Chapter Two
Chey stared at the dark wood door in front of her, still shocked that moments ago she’d been embroiled in a kiss the likes of which she’d never experienced and the next she stood out here in the cool night air as he disappeared into the interior of his house. His scent remained strong. Whether from her clothes or the fact he remained by the door she couldn’t tell. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed in deeply. Why would he wait for her? Reject me once shame on you, reject me twice, shame on me. Wasn’t exactly how the old saying went but it sure felt appropriate.
He’d kissed her senseless and then slammed the door in her face. Other than the fact she still needed him to agree to return to clan land, she should be grateful. Except for the first time in a very long time she felt alive. Not the automaton she’d become over the last year. Guilt sliced through her hot and swift.
You bastard!
He didn’t care about her and she felt even less for him. If he thought a stupid kiss would scare her off he had another thing coming. Two could play at this game and she had plenty more tricks up her sleeve that did not involve his mouth, his hard muscled chest or the hard dick he’d been packing. Chey fingered the knife she’d holstered at her hip. Oh no. He didn’t get to walk away again without a backward glance. If he did, he’d find her knife buried in it.
She glanced at the position of the moon in the sky and determined she had at least three hours before the sun came up and she wasn’t about to spend that time prowling around outside his house. He’d gotten the best of her and she’d give him this round. But the fight had just gotten started. She wasn’t about to lose now, not even against odds like this.
Looking down at the gravel footpath that led to his front door, Chey took a few steps backward. For tonight, her choice would be to try and take him by force and risk something bad happening, like them rolling around naked and sweaty on his bed. He’d pulled her tight against him and her body had fit perfectly against every heavily-muscled plane. She hadn’t even bothered to fight him the slightest when he’d shoved his hand down her pants. Chey sighed at the memory.
Her sex still pulsed from that little taste of contact they’d shared. Never before or since had a man so thoroughly distracted her as to allow him to get the upper hand. Malcolm certainly presented himself as an intriguing opponent who offered her first real challenge in a very long time. She’d definitely keep at him even if it meant more time away from home.
Home… For a brief moment, she allowed the sadness to touch her as she jogged back to her car, knowing she shouldn’t, that no good would come from reliving the past this time any more than it had in the past three hundred and sixty days.
She hopped into the Jeep she’d left in the trees out of sight and far enough away not to be heard and turned the key in the ignition. The smooth rumble of the engine drowned out some of the pain but not enough, so she flipped on the stereo too. Focus Chey. Pull it back. You’re on a mission with no time for self-pity so snap out of it.
She thought of Malcolm and the energy that had fed between them. A phenomenon she’d only heard stories of and experienced once too many years ago to count. She no longer believed in a true bond mating, at least not for someone like her. If Malcolm was her mate then neither of them could have turned their back on the other. Something he’d clearly had no problem with and even she’d recovered after a few years. She’d moved on, started a new life, lost half of it again and now stood alone with desire burning between her legs and a job that had to be done.
Chey locked down those thoughts right alongside the pain and shoved it to the back for another day as she whipped a U-turn into the street. For now, she had some time to kill and a plan B to devise. Kane had warned her that Malcolm would give her a hard time, but he was counting on her to do what she did best and bring him home.
A serious storm brewed in their clan and threatened to spill over into other clans. The wolves had been keeping an eye on the floundering council of the were cougars and she feared they’d take action if it continued. Unfortunately, what lay between the cougars and the wolves were her kind, and everyone had grown restless and agitated. She hated to think what would happen if the Gunn brothers couldn’t get things back under control. Unfortunately, Kane, as well as others, hypothesized it would take the unity of all three to stop the out of control spiral. She had to get Malcolm to go back.
The latest mating between Kane and his outsider had started off a chain reaction of mistrust that left the lonely Guardian on dangerous ground with his own council. With no death enforcers to watch his back, she figured there was a good chance he would be taken out unless Malcolm stepped in. But he had his own issues it would seem. Of all the Gunn brothers, the darkest rumors swirled around him. In the last year, she’d heard everything from his penchant for kinky sex to anger that raged out of control when someone pushed him too hard. He’d definitely changed from the almost too loyal clan guardian she’d met on a mission five years ago. Her brain puzzled over the changes but couldn’t quite get a handle on them.
Chey shrugged. Malcolm’s personal issues were not her problem. He’d made sure of that. All that mattered now was returning him to Kane so they could stop whatever or whoever had started this convoluted mess.
The cold predawn air twisted through Chey’s hair as she turned a hard right into the Waffle House parking lot. She had to wait out Malcolm somewhere and this seemed as good a place as any. She needed to hurry up and get this job done so the knot in her stomach would ease and she could get away from the stirring of sexual need Malcolm had once again awakened in her.
Fuck! She couldn’t stop obsessing over it. A hard sigh pushed through her lips while she swung herself from the Jeep onto the hard packed gravel of the parking lot. Like it or not, things changed every single day, sometimes more than she liked.
The bell above the door clanged loudly when she pulled the front door open and hustled into the warm air inside. The few employees and patrons all turned in her direction and stared openly. The subtle scents of curiosity and wariness wafted under her nose as she broke eye contact with the lone cook and hurried toward the empty booth in the corner.
The waitress approached and handed her a menu, which she didn’t need. She already knew what she wanted and it wasn’t going to be on the menu of any greasy diner.
“Can I get you something to drink?” The weariness in the woman’s voice reminded Chey of the tough job she had in front of her. Malcolm would fight her every step of the way. It was up to her to find the method for keeping ahead of him.
“Coffee, black.”
The waitress nodded and walked off.
Chey tilted her hip and reached for the cell phone inside her pants pocket when a familiar scent slammed into her. Another Cougar was sitting in the diner with her and it wasn’t Malcolm.
She lifted her head and peered through her lashes as she scanned the room while pretending to check her messages on the phone. Only two other customers remained besides her. One sat on a stool at the counter and the other sat at a table at the opposite end of the building with his or possibly her back facing Chey’s direction.
Not one to wait and see, she qu
ickly rose to her feet and stalked to the other side of the diner to investigate. Sure enough, this time when she passed the man sitting at the counter, nausea roiled in her stomach at the stench coming from him. Cougar, sweat and fear. Not an attractive combination. How could she have missed him? Because she’d been too damned busy worrying about a dark haired man who wanted nothing to do with her instead of paying attention to her surroundings as usual. Not a good slip. Hunters had died for less.
A warning snarl pressed through her lips as the patron twisted on his stool.
“Take it easy, warrior. I’m only here to observe.”
“Observe what exactly?” She didn’t like the sound of this.
“Your mission.”
“You’re spying on me? Who the hell sent you? Kane? I swear, so help me, I am going to kick his ass.” Her fists clenched at her side as red-hot anger grabbed hold of her. She’d been certain enough time had passed that her actions wouldn’t be questioned or doubted. Apparently she’d been wrong.
“Whoa! Hold on. Just relax it’s not that big of a deal.”
“Not a big deal? Are you kidding me? I have never not completed a job I’ve been hired to do, and I sure as hell don’t need a babysitter. So you can tell Kane he can go to—”
“Whoaaa.” He held up his arms in mock surrender in a lame attempt to patronize her, which simply pissed her off more. She flexed the muscles of her forearms and her nails shifted and grew to claws. “Calm down, Cheyenne. We can’t have you doing anything stupid in a public restaurant, now can we?”
“Then I suggest you go back to Kane and tell him that he can go fuck himself if this is the way it’s going to be. I don’t need this shit.” She turned to head out the door and leave this shithole behind.