by Celia Kyle
Stella didn’t have a chance to laugh again. Not when Cole’s lips captured hers once more, his tongue doing that tappy-twisty thing that made her moan. He delved deeper into her mouth, lapping at her lips and arousing her with each stroke. She burned for him, core hot and aching, anxious to be filled.
She absorbed his essence into her very cells, the long, drugging kisses stealing her ability to think. He was fierce in his possession, and she was just as fierce when meeting his passion.
Cole moaned, body trembling and breath wheezing in and out of his lungs in heavy pants. He adjusted his position and leaned away from her. Was he trying to break the kiss?
She slowed their building hunger, gradually ending the meeting of their mouths so she could ease away from him—check on his condition. Then she cursed her own selfish ass. She’d launched herself at an injured guy. Sure, he was a shifter and healed faster than humans, but he was still injured. And she’d tried to climb him like a tree.
“Cole…” she murmured, grabbing his hands when he went to pull her close once more. “We need to stop.”
“Hell yeah you do,” Grant grumbled, and she whipped her head around to glare at him. The wolf just sat there in his office chair, rubbing his jaw after Cole’s punch and grinning even though he had to be in pain. “I like porn as much as the next guy, but that doesn’t mean I want to watch you two go at it.”
“Mother Fu…” Cole growled, moving to edge past Stella, his fist clenched and arm stretching out toward the werewolf.
“Hey, calm down.” Stella stepped into his path, forming a physical barrier between Cole and Grant. She stroked his chest, palm resting over his heart. The rapid thud of his heartbeat pulsed against her palm. She traced small circles on his shirt, petting and stroking him in an attempt to ease his anger. “Grant is just being an ass. No reason to get mad.”
“She’s right,” Grant said, but he must have just taken a bite of something because it came out as, “Sh…ite.” Though his next words were clear. The guy must have swallowed. “I’m just being a dick to be a dick.”
Cole growled, the vibrating rumble sliding through her, and Stella sighed. They acted like children when they were around each other. Except these grown kids didn’t have the “good” part of children. She got the fighting, grumbling, whining, and growling with none of the smiles and playing well with others.
No wonder Birch always had a glare on his face when he spoke with the team.
Cole wavered, body swaying from side to side the tiniest bit, and she grasped his biceps to keep him steady.
“Hey, let’s get you back to bed. You just woke up after being seriously injured. You should still be resting. Not…” Getting mauled by a jaguar shifter in heat.
He shook his head once, and then again, hair falling into his eyes. “I’m…” He reached for the strands and missed. “Fine.”
“Uh-huh.” She suppressed the urge to snort. Barely. “Humor me, then. Seeing you like that.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to ever experience that again.”
Something in her tone had to have gotten to him. Cole lowered his attention from Grant and stared at her—his gaze intent. Blue eyes turned amber, the tiger peering out from behind Cole’s human half. He cupped her cheek, calloused palm rough against her sensitive skin. “I’ll be fine even if I’m not right now.”
“And you won’t get better unless you let your body heal.” She stepped back and grasped his hand, tugging while she urged him to follow. “So, I vote that you get back into bed.”
“With you.” Cole’s lips twitched, and she had to admit that the idea had merit.
“With me? I dunno…”
“Yes,” he hissed, the drawn-out sound completely feline in nature.
“Maybe.” She grinned and winked, continuing to back away and toward his bedroom.
“Yes.” A growl filled his voice that time.
“Maybe.” Stella grinned even wider, enjoying annoying Cole’s tiger.
His next response was a pure snarl from his beast, the animal furious at her teasing. He sped up and she darted away, a tinkling laugh escaping her lips as she rushed into his bedroom. The room smelled like him…and her. They’d shared the space for a full day, him unconscious while she simply stared at his unmoving body. Their combined scent now permeated the space, claiming it as theirs. At least temporarily. Who knew what’d happen once Walters had been handled.
Stella stood beside the bed, watching Cole approach and noticing all the little things about him. Like the way his step still had a small hitch and how stiff he held his upper body. He wrapped an arm around his front, hand squeezing his side, and she frowned.
“You’re still hurting a lot, aren’t you?”
He shrugged and then winced. “I’ll recover. How long have I been out? What happened to the op?”
She didn’t reply at first, just focused on caring for him. Once he was close enough, she grabbed his hand and braced him as he sat on the edge of the bed. He groaned as he let the mattress take his weight and then moaned as he moved to lie on his back.
She reached across him, fingers fisting the edge of his quilt before she tugged to draw them over his body. Only to have her progress stopped by Cole—his large hand wrapped around her much smaller wrist.
“Stella?”
“Why don’t I leave you alone to rest and we can talk about it later?”
He gave her a bland expression and quirked one eyebrow. “Why don’t you get into bed with me and talk?”
“Later.”
He shook his head. “Now.”
“But…”
Cole changed his grasp, fingers no longer holding her captive but simply cradling her hand. He stroked her palm with his thumb, tracing tiny, soothing circles. “I think this past weekend’s events on that island proved that anything can happen at any time.” He shrugged. “There might not be a later.”
Stella’s throat closed up tight, cutting off any chance for her to breathe. Her eyes burned, tears pooling and blurring her vision. She sniffled and wiped her face with her free hand, brushing the first hint of tears aside.
“Fine,” she rasped, failing at her attempt to grumble at the big idiot. She tugged on his hold, but he refused to release her. “Let me go and I’ll get in on the other side.”
“Nope. You’ll try to escape.” He shook his head, and this time it was him who pulled. Pulled her on top of his stretched-out body. He rolled to his right, Stella falling from atop him to land on the mattress.
“Cole!” she squeaked. “I could hurt you.”
“You? Really?” Cole snorted while he rolled his eyes. He propped himself on his elbow, wincing with the movement, and she suppressed the need to ask if he was okay. “Sure, my body aches and I wouldn’t mind a lazy nap in the sun, but I’m not about to break.”
Stella’s cat purred at the idea of lying across the sunny porch with Cole in nothing but their fur. Spots and stripes tangled together, warmed by the sun’s rays. She breathed deep, pulling his scent into her lungs, and released the air with a satisfying purr. It was so good to have him with her—awake and on his way to being healthy.
“And now that you know I won’t break, you can give me a recap.”
She closed her eyes and groaned. He just wouldn’t give up.
“You shouldn’t make sounds like that. It gives my cat ideas.” Those words delivered with his husky whisper had her nearly coming right then and there. She managed to suppress her whine, but she couldn’t do a thing about the shudder that racked her body.
“That wasn’t meant to be sexy,” she murmured.
“Everything about you is sexy.” She could hear the grin in his voice and refused to open her eyes. It’d take only one look from him and she’d be putty in his hands.
With a shake of her head, she let her mind drift back to the other night, the events that had brought them to this cabin with Grant leading the way.
“I caught up to you outside Building A. You’d been stabbed with a poison
ed knife and, at some point, shot.” Cole grunted, and she wasn’t sure what that meant. She just continued. “We ran through the forest, but your injuries were too much. I tried to get you to shift, but when you wouldn’t, I sort of…” She nibbled her lower lip and met his gaze. “I’m really sorry, but I pulled you through your shift.”
Cole grunted again. Earlier he was all about talking her around to agreeing with him, and now he wouldn’t say a word? What the hell?
“We got to the wall around the restricted section, and Pike and Declan were there to help get you over the barrier. Then we made it to the beach. They took you away with Ethan at that point, so I’m not sure what they did on the SHOC yacht. I hitched a ride with Grant, Birch, Hartley, and Walters.”
Cole stiffened, eyes blazing with his cat’s amber color, while a pale peppering of fur coated his cheeks. “You met Hartley? We have Walters?”
“Yes…and no.” A combination of unease and anger slithered through her blood. She still wasn’t sure what it was about he that set her cat on edge, but there was something about that snake. “Hartley brought Walters in, but while Grant was showing me to my room, he escaped. Someone set off a bomb in engineering, and they assume he leapt over the side of the boat.”
“Wait, Hartley captured Walters?”
Stella nodded. “Not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle to be seen in his clothes, and he walked right up to the boat with Walters in cuffs.”
“Isn’t that convenient?” Cole drawled.
“I thought it was odd. Based on the looks I caught between Grant and Birch, they thought it was suspicious, too. They wouldn’t tell me anything, though.” And the lack of knowledge was killing her. “I mean, he seemed snakish, and Birch mentioned his big brother, but that was all. I felt dirty just looking at him, and Grant wouldn’t let him touch me when I went to crawl out of the boat.”
“Stella.” Cole’s tone was harsh, a commanding voice that demanded attention. “Promise me you’ll stay away from Hartley.”
“I will, but—”
“No.” His voice dropped to a deeper growl, more of his tiger emerging. “You don’t know what that family is capable of. SHOC does a lot of good for shifters, but that doesn’t mean we’re good people. Bad things for the right reasons, remember?” She nodded and he continued. “The director of SHOC, Quade, does whatever he needs to do to get things done. He has no heart.” He snorted. “I doubt he even has a soul. His younger brother, Hartley, is the same way. Hartley is constantly trying to get on his brother’s good side, but no part of Quade is good. They’re both dangerous. I don’t want you anywhere near them.”
“I think he let Walters go.”
He pressed a single finger to her lips. “Let it go. Stay away from him. For me. If you see either of them coming, turn around and walk in the opposite direction. I hate that you even shared the same air as Hartley. That family is heartless. Promise me. Promise me you’ll leave it be.”
Stella nodded, happy to make that promise. It wasn’t like she wanted to be around the guy. The look in his eyes, the way he stared at others…He scared the hell out of her. “I promise I won’t go near him.”
His face relaxed, relief easy to see now that the tension vanished. “Thank you.”
Silence descended for a moment, blanketing them in quiet. A quiet occasionally broken by the chirping of birds in the forest beyond the cabin’s yard and the rustling of leaves. Stella closed her eyes and bathed in the silence, the soft whoosh of their breaths joining nature’s symphony.
Cole ran his fingers through her hair, brushing the strands with his blunt digits, and she basked in his gentle attentions. His fingers drifted, tracing the line of her brow and the bridge of her nose, then the shape of her lips and along her jawline. He teased her neck, tickling her with the barely there touch, before going even farther south.
“You’re so beautiful. Do you know that?”
Every touch, every caress, brought her nerves to life, sparked a new sensitivity that sang through her blood. Her breath caught as he traced the neckline of her thin shirt, fingers not delving beneath the fabric, and yet he was so close. Her breasts ached, her nipples hard and begging to be touched, while her pussy heated with arousal.
He leaned over her, his bulk blocking out the sun peeking through the windows, and whispered, “Everything about you is gorgeous.”
Stella opened her mouth to say…something. She wasn’t sure what, exactly. She simply knew—knew—that being there with Cole was the right answer no matter the question. His scent, his body, his mind…It was all just so right.
Cole snared her lips in another of those drugging kisses, his mouth capturing hers in a single swoop. While he began fiercely, he quickly gentled, his tongue lingering as he gave her long, intoxicating kisses. Kisses that stoked the fires inside her, urging her desire to burn brighter and hotter.
They parted for a breath, and he changed his angle before swooping in once more. He reclaimed her mouth in a delicious, seeking exploration. Her jaguar purred as more and more of his natural flavors invaded her mouth. His heated sweetness filled her, while his musky scent wrapped around her.
Their tongues tangled and danced, urging their need to climb.
Cole was hard against her hip, his arousal unmistakable. His hard, thick length pulsed, and her fingers itched with the need to explore his cock.
To stroke him.
To tease him.
To please him. And ultimately herself.
The thought of taking him in her mouth drew a deep moan from Stella’s throat, and she was gratified when Cole returned the deep sound.
She wasn’t gratified by the next voice in the room. Grant. “Ew. Gag.”
Cole ripped his mouth from hers, a threatening rumble in his chest, while Stella simply slumped into the bed and closed her eyes.
How had she forgotten about the camera Grant had pointed out? When he’d first told her of the device, she’d been comforted by its presence. It meant Grant was always watching. Now she didn’t want Grant seeing a damn thing, but it was obvious he already had.
“Where is it?” Cole snarled. “Where’s the camera?”
Eyes still closed, she pointed at the back corner of the room and the small black camera that clung to the wall.
“Do you have my gun?”
She opened one eye. “Gun?”
“A gun, then? Doesn’t have to be mine.”
She opened the other eye and frowned at him. “You want a gun?”
“I doubt you’ve got an explosive device or two. Or do you?” He looked way too excited about that possibility.
She shook her head. “No. No guns or explosives.”
Cole grunted and rolled away from her. “Nothing for it, then.”
He didn’t even make it upright before the rapid thud of bare feet on wood reached their ears. Soon Grant stomped into the room, headed right for the camera. Reaching up, he grasped the small device and tugged so that it fell into his hand. Then they had his full attention, fierce glare in place while he stomped from the room. Stella nibbled on her lower lip, worried over the anger she’d seen in the wolf’s expression, but Cole just laughed and slumped beside her once again.
“Were you really going to shoot out his camera?”
He shrugged. “Or blow it up.”
Stella didn’t really have anything to say to that. She’d discovered that this SHOC team was a group of violent teens who somehow topped six feet and had been given very, very dangerous toys.
Cole gave the corner one last look before returning his focus to her. “Now, where were we?”
“We”—she placed her hand on his chest—“are going to rest.”
“But we could…”
“Rest.”
“Maybe after…”
“Re-st.” She made the word have two syllables instead of one.
He huffed out a long-suffering sigh and rolled to his back, eyes on the ceiling. He lifted his right arm and peered at her. “If I’m going to rest, s
o are you. Get over here.”
Stella had no problem following that order. No problem at all.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Cole took a sip of his coffee, the hot liquid warming him from the inside out. He savored the lightly sweetened bitter brew as it glided over his taste buds and down his throat. It was good to be alive. And not just because he had an excellent cup of coffee in hand.
It had something to do with one particular she-cat. The she-cat that’d spent the last two days in his bed without an inch of space between their bodies. The only way it could have been better was if they’d both been naked, but he’d take what he could get. At least until he talked her around to his kind of sweaty, passionate, mind-blowing thinking. He smiled at the thought of Stella without a stitch of clothing, begging him for more. Yeah, he liked that idea. A lot.
Cole topped off his cup with the nearby carafe and then padded across the kitchen to the opposite counter. He leaned back against the granite’s edge and turned his attention to the window. Or rather, the view beyond the window. From his new position, he was able to watch the morning sun rise above the pines. The rays sparkled on the lake’s still waters, as if glitter coated the placid surface.
A new day and he was alive and well. A man—shifter—couldn’t ask for more.
Except Cole could and would. Living through the op hadn’t been enough. Now he wanted even more. He just hadn’t quite figured out how to get that “more.” He had to come up with a plan eventually, right?
Eh, he’d get there. For the moment, he’d enjoy the view. And not just the sunrise, the swaying trees, or soothing lake, either. There was something else even more beautiful than anything that could be found in the wilds of nature—Stella. Stella on the dock that extended into the lake, barefoot, wearing nothing but a pair of tight shorts and a snug shirt and with her hair in a messy pile atop her head. There wasn’t a poised and polished thing about her in that moment. No makeup, no flat-ironed hair, and none of that Spanx crap.
Pure woman.
Damn, she was beautiful. His tiger agreed, the beast chuffing and purring. It liked the woman’s human shape, and it was anxious to run with her on four paws. It didn’t remember being present during their run to safety, and it was still pouting about missing out. The cat snarled, baring its fangs and telling him that tigers didn’t pout.