by ML Guida
A faded and threadbare yellow bedspread was on a double bed. Beneath the smudged dirt, the walls used to be a pale yellow. The television set actually had an old digital converter box. A sink and faucet were against one wall. Unraveling lace curtains hung from the windows.
“Can’t afford much with just getting out of prison.” He shut the door and wiped his hands on his pants.
She sat on the bed. “This place is fine. As long as you’re here.”
He joined her and gently pushed her down on the lumpy bed.
She gasped and panted, trying to breathe. “Griff, what…what if they would have thrown that molotov cocktail when I was in the car?” She burst into tears.
He gathered her in his arms and held her close. “That’s not going to happen. I promise.”
She laid her head on his chest, listening to his beating heart and steady breaths. He rubbed her back and stroked her hair. The terror eased inside her and she could breathe, but she inhaled the stench of rubber and oil. Her hair and clothes were saturated with it.
She looked up at him, at his golden eyes, his lips. “I don’t want to think about tonight.”
“Meaning?”
“I need to get this smell off me.” She got off this bed.
“You want to take a shower?” He got up on his elbows and tilted his head. “The bathroom’s right through there.”
She walked toward the bathroom and glanced over her shoulder. “Will you wash my back?”
He grinned and jumped off the bed. “Absolutely.” He followed her into the bathroom, which wasn’t much better the bedroom.
A white shower curtain hung loosely on a rod. Some rings were missing. The toilet and sink looked like they lost a fight with the rust god.
He looked sheepish. “I know it doesn’t look clean, but it is.”
“It’s fine.” She yanked her shirt off and tossed it on the floor. She went to pull her bra strap down, but stopped. “Wait. Last time we did this, I never saw all of you.” She tilted her head. “You first.”
He lifted her chin. “I’ll deny you nothing.” His husky voice sent chills down her back, and she held in her breath in anticipation.
He dropped his hand and slowly tore off his shirt, revealing a rack of six pack abs and the most delicious pecs. A tattoo of a bald eagle covered one of his pecks and hid the areola.
She gasped and desire flickered through her. She couldn’t resist and put her hands on those rock-hard muscles, brushing one thumb over his hidden nipple.
He sucked in his breath and put a hand over hers.
She looked up into his mesmerizing tiger eyes that made her curl her toes. “I didn’t realize you had a tattoo. Any special meaning?”
“Freedom.”
She parted her lips and he playfully bit her lower lip. Her tummy quivered. She put her fingers on the rim of his jeans and unbuttoned them. He lost his teasing grin and hunger flashed in his eyes.
His smoldering gaze froze her heart, but somewhere inside her belly, a boldness was born. She licked his eagle, drawing a circle around his nipple with her tongue. He smelled and tasted of spice and everything nice, blocking out the stench of fire.
“God, you’re killing me.” His strained voice made her bolder.
He was breathing hard and tilted his head back. Every smooth muscle was tense. Her recklessness knew no bounds. She kissed, licked, and sucked his flesh.
“Mmmm, yummy salty tiger.” Her soft voice was smooth and sultry, but her beating heart was bumpy and brisk.
He stroked her head and his panting grew more intense.
She edged her tongue down his abs, stopping only to explore his belly button. She planted kisses down to his sexy v, and yanked his jeans down. His cock popped out, totally erect and huge, his arousal bucking up against his belly.
Her breath caught in her throat and she jumped back. “Oh, my.”
“I don’t wear underwear.”
Right now everything in her life had gone to shit. She needed control, to forget her poor car, the threat on her life, and his hard flesh was the perfect solution. Greedy for the taste of him, she kissed the tip of his cock and cupped his balls.
He hissed. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He clenched his teeth. “Take me in your sweet mouth.”
Her throat dried up and fear rooted in her gut at stretching her mouth around his huge cock. She’d choke for sure, but she opened her mouth and took half of him inside. He was rough and rigid and slick. She rolled her tongue over his flesh and rocked her head back and forth. He followed her pattern, moving his hips. She clung to his thighs, sucking him hard.
“Yeah, baby. Suck it.” He held onto her shoulders, digging into her flesh. He threaded his fingers in her hair.
She fingered his smooth balls and increased her pace.
He arched his back and made a sound that was half shock, half pleasure, all because of her. He spilled his salty seed into her mouth that triggered pleasurable sensations gushing through her. She’d sucked men’s cocks before, but this was different.
Everything was different with Griff––his touch, his taste, his scent.
She was drawn more and more to him, like a bee to a flower.
She’d always thought she wanted a shifter, to be like Cora, to have a steamrolling love, but this was more than the bond between a man and a woman. She’d had no idea how intense, how powerful, how intimidating mating would be.
And it terrified her.
His breathing returned to normal. He stroked her head, sending chills down her back. “I thought…I thought you wanted to take a shower.”
She wiped her mouth. “I do.” She unclasped her bra and shed her jeans, tossing them into the corner.
She turned on the shower. He put his hands on her arms. “My turn,” he whispered in her ear, his hair caressing her flesh, making her shiver.
Steam filled the bathroom. He pulled the shower curtain back. “After you, my dear.”
She lifted a leg into the bathtub. Warm water pelted on her sweltering body, washing away the film of smoke that had permeated her skin. Griff was beside her, his hands sliding down her curves, his lips on hers. He rolled his hot mouth and wicked tongue over the side of her face and down to her throat.
“Let me wash you.” His raspy voice promised things to come and her legs shook. The skin across her chest tightened and nipples budded into blush berries.
Water plastered his hair to his head and shoulders, droplets gushing down his taut muscles, reminding her of a god rising from the ocean.
She managed to get the words out. “Yes, please.”
He picked up a bar of soap and lathered his large hands. He put his hands on her breasts, soaking them, his thumbs teasing her taut nipples. Rivers of sensations flowed downward to her pulsing core and her thighs trembled.
His hands moved the suds down pass her stomach to her pussy. He slid a finger along her folds. Earthly joy flooded through her limbs and torso, turning her blood to liquid fire. She titled her head back and cried out. His mouth was latched to one breast, sucking her hard while his other hand was busy stroking and fingering her pussy. She melted forward, her fingers twirling in his wet hair, and he became more insistent with sucking her, his beard chaffing her skin, until she was withering and making small whimpering gasps.
He inserted his finger into her pussy and his thumb caressed her clit, building a pressure that drove her mad. “You’re so tight.”
“Take me.” Her low voice was trembled with excitement.
“Not yet. Not yet.”
“Griff, please.” She widened her stance to accommodate his size.
He laughed, then pressed kisses down her quivering body.
She drowned with waves of icy and cold anticipation and didn’t know how much longer she could stand.
He was suddenly on his knees and instead of his finger, it was his tongue that speared her, swirling inside her. She cried out and clawed her fingers into his thick mane. A blazing orgasm built inside her like a
wildfire, burning everything in its fiery path. Her lungs gasped for breath and her heart threatened to shatter.
“Griff.” She could only muster a whisper.
Griff could taste her readiness, the slickness of her building orgasm, but he wasn’t done yet. He wanted her to forget about the horrors of tonight and only think of him.
But she had turned the tables on him.
He’d never expected her to pleasure him first.
Not a convicted felon.
But there hadn’t been a bit of hesitation. Her soft little tongue and sweet mouth had reduced him to a panting beast.
He ran his hands up her trembling soapy thighs and stood. She clasped his cock at the base, stopping him from thrusting into her wet pussy. He pressed forward and groaned. His cock was embedded in her fist. She squeezed her fingers and held him there.
He frowned. “What are you doing?”
Mischief flashed into her passionate eyes. “Torturing you.” She rubbed herself over his engorged head until he was dizzy with desire and he bucked his own hips.
“I don’t know…if I can do this gently.” His voice was husky and strained and every muscle had turned rigid. Sweat leaked down his temples and his hands shook.
She smiled like a tempting nymph. “Who said I wanted it to be gentle?”
He was done.
He brushed her hand away and spread those luscious thighs wider. He lifted her and squared her over his cock in the same swift motion that caused him to thrust as deeply as the penetration would allow. Lara gasped and clung to his arms. He staggered with the intensity, nearly undone by the ferocity of indescribable feelings flowing through him. Feelings only a mate could ignite.
She locked her legs around his hips and held his buttocks. Control was fading from him. He crammed her against the shower wall. The water pelting against his back had turned cold, but when he flicked his hips, she moaned and moved hers. Slow at first, but then their rhythm reached a frenzied pace, turning the water to steam. His heart was beating so fast he thought it would explode. He needed her, needed to claim her.
But forcing her wasn’t an option.
She screamed out his name and rocked her hips, her nipples rubbing against his chest. His own building orgasm was a rush of sizzling sensations that pumped through his sweltering body like rays of sunlight blinding him when he came. He slammed his hands against the wall on either side of her head.
His breath was harsh and rash. He closed his eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“I seem to be having some kind of an effect on you.” Her voice was as breathless as his.
He pushed the hair off her damp cheek. “It’s because you’re my mate. No woman has ever brought out this much intensity inside me.”
Her eyes widened and she pressed her hands on his pecks. “Cora told me about the…” Her voice faded.
“About the mating process?”
She nodded.
“So, you know it means I take you both ways. Vaginally and anally. Once done, it can’t be undone.” He watched her face for the tiniest sign of what she was feeling. If there was even a hint that this could work…
Her brows crinkled and she flashed her gaze downward as if she couldn’t look at him.
Not a good sign.
She wrapped her arms around his back and her laid her head on his chest. “I’m not ready. Not yet. Not until this thing is over.”
But even if this ordeal ended, would she consent to be his mate?
After all, he was an ex-convict, and she was an attorney.
Not wanting an answer right now, he cradled her shivering body against his. “Then, let’s end it.”
“I’m tired.”
“Bed it is.” He lifted her out of the shower and quickly dried her off with the pitiful thin white rag that posed as a bath towel.
She reached for another one. “I can dry you off.”
He shook his head. “No, you need rest.” He carried her to the bed and she slid underneath the covers that wouldn’t do much in keeping her warm. She needed body warmth.
He quickly returned to the bathroom and dried off. He did a run through the dreary motel room to make sure every window was secure. He peeked out the blinds, but no one was outside. The street light shone onto the parking lot. The cars and trucks appeared to be empty.
But it meant nothing.
They were possibly being watched. Danger was creeping toward them, and he wasn’t sure how to stop it. He shut the blinds and crawled into bed. Lara snuggled closer and he wrapped his arm around her sighing body. Every nerve of his was on alert. Adrenaline beat down the weariness weighing on him. Sleep wasn’t an option. His mate was in danger.
And it was his job to protect her.
Chapter 9
Lara woke up naked to a cold bed and dirty walls. She jerked upright and her yellow thread blanket fell down. Cold air rushed over her breast and she shivered.
Her clothes were neatly folded on a chair and her purse was on top of them.
Oh, shit. She looked wildly around the room, clinging to the blanket. “Griff?” Her voice trembled and ended in a fevered pitch.
No answer.
She grappled for breath. She jumped out of bed and the covers fell to the wayside.
He left her. How could he leave her alone in this place?
She knocked her purse off. She struggled to pull on her jeans with her trembling hands. They still smelled of smoke. The horrible night came crashing down on her like a heavy rain storm.
Solid footsteps walked outside, then they stopped right outside the door. Her lungs and heart were paralyzed. She stopped dressing.
Someone turned the doorknob. A slow scream crawled up her throat. She lifted up the rickety chair, her bra and shirt falling onto the frayed carpet.
The door opened.
She swung the chair, yelling at the top of her lungs.
“Hey, hey, Lara. It’s me.”
Her arms shaking, she gasped for breath and dropped the chair. She put her clammy hand on her forehead. “What the hell are you doing?”
He raised his eyebrow and quickly closed the door shut. He held cups of coffee in each hand. “I thought you’d like some coffee.” He smiled. “But I have to admit, I like being greeted by a half-naked Amazon ready to bash my head in.”
She looked down at her heaving breasts, and heat rushed over her. “I thought…I thought…”
“You thought I left?”
She grabbed her bra, her hands still trembling.
He set the coffee down and gathered her in his arms.
“I’d never leave you.” He brushed his lips over hers. “You’re my mate.”
Not knowing how to answer, Lara took a long, shaky breath. “I guess I’m still freaked out from last night.”
“Sometimes I have that effect on women.”
She looked up into his teasing eyes and dazzling smile. She couldn’t help but laugh. She pressed the side of her head against his chest, listening to his beating heart and squeezed him hard. “Yes, you do.” More than he would ever know.
His warm fingers lightly caressed her back. Chills scurried down her spine.
“Do you want to go to Starbucks or would you rather stay here?” He lifted her chin and kissed her lips, his beard scratching her. His sexy voice chased away her silly fears.
Desire swelled inside her, blood pulsing down to her core. She tugged at his lips with her teeth. “I want to.” Her voice trailed off, but she was being hunted.
He rubbed her back. “You want to end this.”
She moved away and grabbed her purse. “Yes. I don’t want to live in fear anymore.”
He handed her a cup of hot black coffee. “Do you want this?”
She stood on her tippy toes and kissed him. “Yes, thank you.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s actually pretty good.”
“This place is a dump, but the owner makes a great coffee. After we retrieve the USB drive, what do you want to do next?”
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br /> “As much as I hate to do it, we need to go to my house.” Her tummy twisted into a tight pretzel. “It sucks that I feel unsafe in my own home.”
“You won’t have to anymore.” He sat next to her on the bed and squeezed her knee. “Because I’ll be there.”
“I know.” But she knew her voice was less then convincing. She wanted to believe him. He was only one man––a tiger––but the bastards were upping their game. What if there was a bomb in her house or what if someone was waiting inside?
They finished their coffee in silence then headed out to Griff’s motorcycle. She climbed on the back and clung to him. He was such a dominating force, but as he drove closer to Buckley and Hartley her chest constricted tighter and tighter. Her frayed nerves were overstretched and she had to force herself to breathe.
She tilted her head back, allowing the sun to warm her face. The sun’s rays glimmered off the yellow and red leaves in the trees in the quiet neighborhood. Houses along the streets were replaced with office buildings. Her heart quickened and missed a beat. Buckley and Hartley’s building rose over the other buildings. Darkness loomed ahead, dying to break out.
Stay calm. Don’t panic.
He pulled up to Starbucks and parked his bike. She took his hand and they walked into the café. Lara inhaled the comforting smells of coffee and spice. It was a busy Saturday with people sitting with their laptops, or groups crowding together over precious tables. There were hardly any tables available.
She led him toward the fifteen-people deep line. “We should order something so we don’t draw attention.”
“You know some of these people?”
“No. But that doesn’t mean they don’t know me.”
“True.” He quickly changed the subject to a more benign topic, so if anyone was listening, they were just a couple, talking about their upcoming trip to the mountains.
But Lara couldn’t stop shaking. She had to go into that bathroom alone. What if someone was in there waiting for her?
She quickly ordered a pumpkin spice latte and waited with Griff to get their coffees.
He leaned closer. “Relax. They won’t do anything here.”
She nodded, but wasn’t convinced. They grabbed their coffees and took a seat near the window. Lara sipped on her drink, scanning the people. No one seemed to be openly staring at them.