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Her Panther: An Urban Fantasy Romance (Silver Shifter Book 4)

Page 11

by Katherine Bogle


  “To a job well done,” Cash said, toasting again.

  “And a peaceful future,” Jett said.

  “To having time to spend at home relaxing,” Owen said, holding up his beer.

  “And maybe some little additions to our family,” Maximus said with a smile, his eyes locked on mine.

  I took a gulp of beer and wiped my mouth. “Bring it on.”

  The End

  Thank you for reading the Silver Shifter series! We’re so happy you could join us on this adventure with Ari and her mates!

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  Looking for your next RH read?

  Read on for a short excerpt of Alexa’s Chasing Her Cats (a dark RH) and Katherine’s Demon’s Game Novella (a paranormal RH).

  Demon’s Game

  A Paranormal Reverse Harem Novella

  * * *

  Katherine Bogle

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  PREVIEW

  * * *

  (Series Coming Soon)

  Chapter One

  If this guy touches me one more time, I’m going to fucking lose it.

  My fingers tapped impatiently against the sleek wooden surface of the bar as I stared down the lecherous fool sitting across from me. He wasn’t the first to hit on me tonight—not by a long shot. Working at a bar in downtown New York City wasn’t an easy gig, but it was helping me pay my way through school.

  Now if only this guy would order his drink and get out of my space, I could go back to stressing about my final project.

  “Clarrera,” the drunkard slurred. He hadn’t been able to say my name right for three drinks now, and if he didn’t get his hand off my wrist, he was going to wind up losing his front teeth. Then he’d really have trouble pronouncing my name.

  “It’s Clara,” I said, forcing a pleasant ‘I-want-to-keep-my-job’ smile. “What can I get for you, sir?”

  For the third time in as many minutes, I tried to pull my hand back. And again, his sweaty fingers tightened on my wrist. I winced. His grip was starting to hurt. I was definitely going to have bruises in the morning.

  The drunkard leaned in close, pulling me as close as I could get while still having my feet on the ground. His hot, whiskey-heavy breath bathed my cheeks, and turned my stomach. No, no, no! This was way too close. Way too fucking close!

  “What’s a pretty girl like you doing behind the bar?” the man asked. He stared pointedly at my cleavage, which due to the awkward position he’d forced me into, strained against my black work-shirt. “You should have a sugar daddy taking care of you.” He chuckled and grinned so wide he flashed yellow teeth. “Why don’t you let daddy take care of you?”

  I shivered. “Sir, I have a job to do. If you’d release me, I can get you another whiskey.”

  He frowned; probably irritated that I was ignoring everything he said. “Clarrera, come here—”

  “Clara!”

  My heart skipped and my tensed body finally relaxed a fraction. I’d never been so happy to hear Eli’s singsong voice in my life. My favorite co-worker appeared at the door to the back, a brilliant smile on her gorgeous, tan face. Eli beamed at the drunkard pulling me halfway across the bar. His eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open. Eli had that affect on men.

  While he remained in a stupor, I took my chance to extract myself from his hold. Once I was free, I backed up until my ass hit the display against the wall, sending rows of wine glasses rattling.

  “Oh, you’re with a customer!” Eli gasped with fake surprise. Her cherry lips popped into a small ‘o’. “So sorry, sir! I’ll let you finish with Clara-dear.” Again, she flashed a smile that could light up the whole room.

  The drunkard still hadn’t recovered, though his eyes were definitely roaming down Eli’s curving body. Even in a polo, slacks and a matching black apron, Eli could still stop traffic. Maybe it had something to do with her flaming red hair.

  A sliver of jealousy twisted in my gut. I could only dream of having curves like Eli. My slight figure, straight black hair and grey eyes were boring in comparison to the fiery vixen.

  “It’s no problem,” the drunkard finally managed.

  I took a deep breath to gather myself before pouring the man a whiskey. As soon as my obligation was fulfilled, I excused myself.

  Eli raised an eyebrow at my approach, and I quickly pulled her toward the back door. We’d worked together long enough for Eli to know when I needed a minute.

  “You good?” Eli whispered. She took my hand and squeezed firmly. Though she had an innocent, flirtatious vibe only moments ago, the rage in her blue eyes spoke danger. If that man had hurt me, Eli was about to go all ‘hell hath no fury’ on his ass.

  I forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.”

  Eli let go of my hand. “Anytime. You know I’ve got your back.”

  “I know.”

  Eli glanced over my shoulder as she pushed open the swinging door to the back room with her ass. “Enrique, can you handle the bar for a few?” she called inside.

  An answering grunt confirmed our fellow bartender would cover for us.

  Eli flashed a cheeky smile as she grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the break room. The smell of pizza sauce and burnt dough filled my nostrils. Enrique must have blown up another pizza pocket in the microwave.

  I bit my tongue on a groan. Guess who was going to have to clean that up? Definitely not Enrique.

  Once we were inside the break room, Eli threw herself down on the worn brown sofa, laying her arms over the top of the cushions. “What’s up, girl? I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

  I sat down on the armchair closest to the door and ran a hand through my long black hair, tucking it behind my ear. “I’ve been busy with school. My final project is due next week.”

  Eli rolled her eyes. “It’s always work with you. Do you ever take a break?”

  My lips pressed into a firm line. We’d had this conversation many times before. “I’ll take a break once I’m done the semester. I have to be on my A-game, or I’ll fail this project and have to retake the entire year.”

  Eli leaned her head back against the couch and groaned. “Clara, you know I love you, but you have to learn to chill out. Being high strung is only going to raise your blood pressure.”

  I bit my lip. “Like I said, once the semester is over—”

  “Are you off tomorrow?” Eli sat forward, leaning her elbows on her knees.

  I blinked in surprise at the sudden change in topic. “Yes…” I replied slowly. I didn’t like where this was going.

  “Great!” Eli bounced off the couch and grabbed her gold clutch from her locker. When she sat back down, she held out three black envelopes with golden script on the front. “You’re going to take these off my hands then.”

  I looked between Eli’s face and the cards. Eli pushed them forward, waving them around until I plucked them from her hands. “What are they?”

  “Three invitations to an ultra exclusive party outside the city.” Eli grinned wickedly and wiggled her eyebrows meaningfully. “I work tomorrow, so I can’t make it. I want you to have them. Use them. Invite two of your girlfriends along and make a night of it.” She leaned back against the couch and crossed one leg over the other, looking far too pleased with herself.

  “Eli, you know I can’t. I have to work on my project.” I turned over the invitations in hand. I knew Eli meant well. She always did. But Eli was a free spirit. She didn’t understand commitments or work ethic. I sighed and set the invitations in my lap. I pulled one of the cards from its envelope. The invitation was beautiful, the same matte black as the outside with a crisp golden border. I scanned the invite for the location, but I didn’t recognize the address.

  “Clary,” Eli said, using her nickname for me to try and sway me. “Please? I don’t want these to go to waste. You’ll have all day to work on your project, and then you can take a town car to the party. It’s already paid for.”<
br />
  I chewed on my lip. “I don’t know. I really wanted to hunker down tomorrow.”

  I’d been working on my final project for weeks—or at least I’d been trying to. I still haven’t come up with a final design for the pretend start up company I’m supposed to be creating a media packet for. If I didn’t finish the logo design soon, I wouldn’t have time to complete the rest of the material required.

  “It’s one night.” Eli raised her eyebrows as she leaned forward and took my hands. “You’ll be back to work by Saturday morning. You’ll have loads of time to finish before your shift on Saturday night.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. Though Eli had asked if I worked tomorrow night, she’d already known—especially if she knew I worked Saturday. Still, it did sound like fun. The invitation said to dress to impress. There was an open bar and free food. What more could I ask for?

  “Fine,” I said.

  Eli’s eyes went wide. “You’ll go?”

  “I will. But you have to promise me you’ll lay off after this. No bugging me to chill out until after finals.” I glared at the petite woman.

  Eli held up her hands in a defensive gesture. “Of course! No more nagging, I swear!” She motioned a cross over her heart, and grinned from ear to ear. “I’m so excited for you!”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes. She just thought I was going to get laid. That was another one of her issues when it came to my social life. If I wasn’t getting any, then I wasn’t really living—at least according to Eli.

  “Call your friends! I’ll head back out there.” She hooked a thumb at the door and stood, adjusting her shirt and slacks.

  “Thanks, Eli,” I said, driving as much sarcasm into those two words as I could.

  Eli snickered all the way back into the bar. Only when the swinging door outside closed did I relax.

  My co-worker was right about one thing. I could use a break. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d done something besides work, or go to school… and work some more. Damn, was my life really that dull?

  * * *

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  Chasing Her Cats

  A Dark Reverse Harem PNR

  * * *

  Alexa B. James

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  PREVIEW

  Chapter One

  Itzel

  Princess, Ocelot Nation

  From my position behind the dense shrubbery, I eased my head up just enough to take stock of the enemy. Ducking down quickly, I flattened my back against the prickly bushes and waited, blood thudding in my ears, the darkness ominously quiet around me. When no shots came, my eyes swept back and forth along the line of crouched warriors. “Ready?” I whispered, slotting the ammunition into my blowgun.

  My team followed suit. When all guns were loaded, I waved my arm to signal them to move out, and they scrambled from seated positions to crouched and ready for action.

  “Charge!” I screamed, leaping to my feet and clearing the shrubs in a single bound. Battle cries rose up around us as my team barreled onto the field, and the enemy scrambled to avoid being shot. I blew the dart from my gun, swerved to miss an opponent, and kept running. I had to find another hiding spot to reload, or I’d be vulnerable to attack.

  “Itzel, you devil,” Tadeu cried, leaping after me. His fingers snagged at the ends of my black hair, but I wrenched free, ignoring the sting in my scalp. I leapt over another hedge only to hear footsteps heavy in pursuit.

  Shit! I kept running, swerving down a narrow, shadowy lane. It lay abandoned to the night, like everywhere else in the kingdom. No one else dared break the king’s weeknight curfew. Only the faint glow of paint on the toes of my shoes provided illumination. I darted through the streets where I’d played as a child, my footsteps echoing behind me as I ran. Pausing at the end of an alley, I flattened my back against the wall, my heart pounding with exertion.

  I slid my feet from my shoes, meaning to pick them up and sneak on silently. But a pursuer’s footfalls alerted me he was near, so I abandoned my shoes and darted out into the empty street. I streaked across, digging into my pocket for the keys I’d nicked from my father’s chambers before heading out that afternoon. I doubted he’d missed them—or me—that day.

  Keeping my blowgun in one hand, I shoved the circular key into the indentation on the arena’s door. The door gave way with a groan, and I flinched at the sound. Without checking for a pursuer, I slipped into the inky blackness within. Feeling my way with my bare feet, I sidestepped along the wall until I found the tunnel that led onto the arena floor. I heard the door scrape behind me, followed by loud whispers.

  Shit. There were several of them.

  I darted forward, praying a janitor hadn’t left a bucket or other random item in the tunnel. Hard-packed dirt greeted my feet as I reached the main floor, and a grin spread across my face. The quiet patter of my footsteps on the ground echoed off the high ceilings, but I couldn’t afford to stop now. I ran at breakneck speed across the floor, counting on the echo to throw them off.

  I ran smack into a pile of hay. Bundles topples in front of me, and I went sprawling on top of them, rolling to the floor on the other side.

  Heart slamming, I scrambled around into a defensive position. Lying in wait, I raised my blowgun to my mouth and inserted a paint-dart. I was ready.

  A footstep sounded somewhere in the arena, the soft padding almost inaudible. I tensed, straining my eyes against the darkness, my ears against the silence ringing inside them. Not another sound.

  Where were they?

  Suddenly, the rustle of hay sounded just behind me. Before I could twist around, strong hands grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to the floor. I struggled, fighting to stay silent as he pressed my face into the straw.

  “Gotcha,” a rough voice murmured in my ear.

  “Tadeu,” I growled, bucking under him. “Took you long enough.”

  He crushed his body onto mine, pinning me with his weight. “Itzi,” he purred. “Game’s up, Princess.”

  “I thought you’d never catch me.”

  “But I did,” he said, his calloused fingers sliding under the edge of my shirt, skimming along the band of my shorts. “Are you my prize?”

  “You wish,” I said, my breath quickening as his hand slid under me, pressing against the front of my shorts. I could feel his hard length pressing against my ass as I struggled.

  “Why not?” he asked. “How long are you going to make me wait?”

  “We’re in an arena with at least one other player,” I said. “Not now.”

  “I’m starting to think you share your father’s opinion of me,” he growled, his fingers biting into my mound.

  “I don’t,” I shot back. I squirmed against his fingers, but they only worked my shorts further into me. “How could you think that?”

  “Maybe a stable hand isn’t worthy of Her Grace’s cherry,” he said, slipping a skillful finger under my shorts, tapping my clit through the layer of silk beneath.

  “Of course you are,” I said. “And don’t call me that.”

  “Why not? You are a princess, aren’t you?”

  I snorted. “Try telling my father that.”

  “I don’t have to,” he said. “He reminded me just the other day.”

  “What?” I asked, finally twisting my body free and rolling over to face him.

  “He’s noticed that we still spend time together,” Tadeu said bitterly. “He told me we should have outgrown these games, and I shouldn’t indulge you.” He slithered onto me, pressing a thigh between mine. “And that if I had too much time on my hands, he’d send me elsewhere, where someone could keep me better occupied.”

  “No,” I said, gripping the corded muscles of his arms. Tadeu was my childhood best friend, my first kiss, my first and only love. As soon as my sister took the thro
ne, I was going to convince her to let us marry. Father had laughed at me when I’d asked, but I’d been only a child then. I hadn’t dared ask once I’d been of marriageable age. Father would never allow such a disparate match, even for a human daughter like me. My sister, however, could be persuaded.

  Tadeu slipped his fingers under the edge of my shorts again, this time beneath my damp panties. “What’s it going to be, Itzi? Are you going to give it up at last, or am I going to have to dream of your tight pussy while I fuck a stable maid against the barn wall again tonight?”

  “Poor tragic Tadeu,” I said. “At least you get fulfillment every night.”

  “I can fill you full every night,” he said, sliding his finger into me.

  I gasped and arched up, stifling a cry when I saw a paint splatter glowing like stars on another player. I bit down on my lip, holding in a moan of pleasure as Tadeu’s finger pumped into my wetness faster and faster. I squeezed my knees together, increasing the pressure on my clit. He pulsed his finger inside me, and a tiny whimper escaped my throat. Seconds later, a paint dart burst on my chest.

  With a cry, I released Tadeu’s hand. He chuckled and drew away, flicking on a flashlight. His accomplice, Josue, stood grinning a few paces back.

  “You cheater,” I cried, punching Tadeu furiously in one solid pectoral. “You just got me going so I wouldn’t run while your partner snuck up on me.”

 

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