Badger to the Bone

by Shelly Laurenston

  “What’s wrong?” she finally asked.

  “Did you know your sister put several knives in here?”

  “That was me. In case we’re ever held hostage. I figure if they need to keep us alive, they’ll probably let one of us use the first-aid kit.”

  Zé was about to ask why she would plan for such an event. Why she would even think like that.

  Then he remembered how he’d met her . . .

  Zé dug under the tactical knives—there were three—and pulled out some bandages, alcohol swabs, and a cold pack for the swelling. He placed them on the kitchen table next to Max’s leg and moved so he stood right in front of her. Using his forefinger, he lifted her chin so he could examine the wounds on her face. But she was staring at him in that way again.

  “You’ve gotta stop,” he said, attempting to avoid her gaze.

  “Stop what?”

  “Looking at me that way. I’m trying to take care of you here.”

  She placed her hands on his hips and pulled him closer, spreading her knees so he could press up against the table. And her.

  “Now you’re torturing me?” he asked.

  “Don’t mean to.”

  “Liar.”

  Her hands slid under his T-shirt, dragging her fingers against the skin.

  “You want me to stop?”

  “I want you to get better.”

  She frowned in confusion. “Huh?”

  “You were beaten by your own cousin tonight. Remember?”

  “That was, like, an hour ago.”

  The sentence was so ridiculous Zé could do nothing but laugh. But then Max pulled him closer and lifted her face to his.

  He knew they should wait another day or two. More time for her to recover.

  Max wasn’t waiting, though.

  * * *

  Max appreciated that Zé was trying to give her some time. And, if she were anyone else, she’d probably need it.

  It wasn’t what she wanted, though. She was tired of waiting. She was tired of being interrupted. So she did the only thing she could think of.

  She grabbed his dick.

  It was through his jeans but she knew that wouldn’t matter. And she was right. He was already hard. So her hand on his dick made him groan; his eyes closed, head dropping forward.

  “This isn’t fair,” he growled.

  “I never promised I’d be fair,” she replied, tightening her grip. “I don’t want fair, Zé. I want you. Now. Fuck me.”

  His hands cupped her neck and his lips were on hers. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and it moved in such a way that she could only think about him going down on her.

  She unzipped his jeans and was about to push them off his hips when he suddenly pulled back. “Wait, wait—”

  “You have got to be kidding me!”

  “It’s just . . .”

  He seemed to be struggling for words and she was in no mood to help him. But he slid his hand under her ass and lifted her off the table. “Not in the kitchen,” he mumbled. “Your sister will kill us both.”

  He had a point. Charlie could be a little OCD about her kitchen, and she did her baking on that table.

  Zé didn’t try to take Max upstairs, though. He just dropped her ass on the dining room table and went to work pulling down her jeans. She had pushed his jeans down by his knees but held him back a few more seconds while she reached down to get a condom out of her back pocket. When Zé saw it, one brow went up.

  “What?” she asked, tearing it open. “I have knives in my first-aid kid and guns taped under the kitchen table. Are you really surprised I have condoms at the ready?”

  He agreed with a nod and she slipped the condom over his cock.

  Zé slid his hands under her ass and pulled her forward, letting her legs rest on his forearms. With one thrust he was buried inside her and Max let out a surprised bark.

  “Too much?” he growled, his green eyes now gold.

  “Are you kidding?” She gripped his shoulders. “Just loving the fit.”

  She spread her legs wider to give herself more room and let him take over, doing nothing but holding onto his shoulders or arms, and letting him fuck her.

  It felt so good and he was so deep, her toes began to curl in her sneakers.

  Then she saw that he was watching her. Those gold eyes locked on her like she was some prey he’d seen running through the jungle. She leered back, wanting to challenge him.

  “You’ve gotta stop doing that,” he told her. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to shoot my load right this second.”

  “Do it,” she ordered. “I’ve got more condoms upstairs and we’ve got all night.” To make her point, she tightened her muscles around him and he swore under his breath. “Come on,” she urged. “Come on. I can take it. I can take anything.”

  That dragged him over the edge and he was coming hard, his hands still gripping her ass. She could feel the tips of his claws resting just beneath his skin, ready to be unleashed.

  He thrust again and again, until he finally stopped. He placed his hands on the table and leaned down a bit, sweat dripping off him.

  “Too much for you?” she asked, leering at him.

  He didn’t say anything, just yanked her off the table and carried her up the stairs. He was still buried inside her when he took her into the room she pointed out. Her room at the end of the hall. He dropped her on the bed then and turned away to remove the used condom and take off his clothes.

  “More condoms over there,” she said, pointing to the drawer next to her bed. But he didn’t go for them yet, choosing instead to take off her sneakers and jeans while she slipped off the holstered knives around her chest. But as he tossed her jeans away, he stopped and studied the holsters she also had tied around both calves. They held four of her knives. He took those off, too, and then crouched in front of her, yanking her close. Before she could say anything—like suggesting that maybe he get her a wet washcloth to wipe up a bit—he had his head buried against her pussy and his lips around her clit. He tugged and licked at it, burying two of his fingers inside her.

  Max fell back against the bed. Although she hadn’t come when he had, her clit was still extremely sensitive and just the feel of his mouth on her had her legs trembling. Her groan turned into a hiss and her back arched as she came against his mouth.

  When she came down, she realized he was still going. Not only that but he’d bent her legs at the knees, and pinned them to the bed with both arms.

  She growled and grabbed his hair, not sure whether to push him away or pull him closer.

  He kept going, though, using his tongue and mouth on her clit. Moving between sucking and flicking.

  Max thrashed against him, desperate to come again.

  She loved how forceful he was being. Challenging her like she challenged him.

  “I . . . I can’t . . . I . . .”

  She exploded again. Her cries filled the room and she tried to close her legs.

  But he still didn’t let her go.

  “No,” she begged this time. “No. I can’t. Not again.”

  This time, he just sucked her clit. Sucking and sucking, pinning her tight to the bed, not giving her any chance to get away. To fight. When she came that third time, she called him every name in the book and tore the sheets beneath her with her claws.

  * * *

  When he made her come that third time, Zé released her so he could grab a condom from the dresser. He put it on and grabbed her ankles as she lay limply on the bed. He flipped her over and, instead of making her get to her knees, he put a pillow under her hips and entered her from behind.

  “God,” he groaned into her hair. “You’re so wet.”

  He took his time this go-round. Moving his hips this way, then that. Seeing which move seemed to work for her. Which one she seemed to enjoy more. Then something happened.

  Zé thought he’d have all the time in the world this time. Thought she’d be out of it for a good twenty
minutes or so. But her energy came back hard and she pulled her knees up so that she was curled tight with her ass up high.

  Max tightened her muscles around his cock, making him crazy. It was like she’d trained for this shit. He’d never felt anything so intense and so amazing at the same time.

  “Faster,” she urged. “Harder. As hard as you want.”

  She was driving him nuts again and already he was ready to blow. Way quicker than what he’d wanted because she was putting up a fight. He loved it.

  He slid his hands under her T-shirt and bra, which she still had on even after removing her holstered weapons. He gripped her breasts, teased her nipples. On a whim, he nibbled at her ear and the back of her neck.

  She responded to that last move immediately; her hands grabbed his, her hips slamming back against him. He bit the back of her neck harder and she cried out. Her muscles clamped down on his cock again as she came and this time he came with her. Both of them groaning and sweating into her shredded sheets.

  When they were done, Zé rolled away from her and she dropped facedown onto the bed. They stayed like that for a while, the sound of their panting the only thing they heard . . . until they realized they weren’t the only ones panting.

  Zé sat up and Max looked over her shoulder.

  “Out!” she ordered the three dogs standing in the open doorway, and they took off running.

  She laughed. “Perverts.”

  * * *

  Max grabbed some of the leftover Chinese food and a couple of beers, bringing them back to her room. They ate in silence but watched each other the entire time. When they finished, Zé picked up all the trash and took it downstairs. Max went to the bathroom, grabbed a clean washcloth, and ran it under the water.

  When Zé walked in, Max crouched in front of him, using the cloth to carefully wipe his dick. Then she tossed it away and replaced it with her mouth, sucking him in deep until he hit the back of her throat.

  His fingers slid into her hair and he massaged her scalp as she did the same to his cock. She didn’t rush it, taking her time to lean back until only the head remained in her mouth, and then going deep again. She hummed a few times, too.

  Zé dug his fingers in deep, curling her hair into his fist. She thought he was about to come, but he pulled her off him and brought her up. His kiss was rough and demanding, slamming her into the bathroom wall. His hands explored the rest of her, tugging her nipples, slipping into her pussy, playing with her ass.

  Eventually, he turned her around and forced her over the sink. He opened the medicine chest above her head and found the condoms. Then he was inside her again. Fucking her again.

  She was beginning to worry she’d never get enough of his cock. It felt so good.

  He used two fingers to grab her clit, tugging and twisting until she came again. But he wasn’t done, so neither was she. He continued to play while he continued to fuck and Max could do nothing but come, too.

  * * *

  The sun was just coming up when he found her on top of him, taking her time to slowly fuck him. She had his hands pressed against her breasts, her head thrown back as she enjoyed herself.

  He loved the way she moved. Her hips writhing, pressing down on him. All the while she squeezed him with her pussy, making him insane.

  “You feel so good inside me,” she said, smiling down at him.

  Gripping her waist, he leaned up, catching one nipple in his mouth. He tugged it, got it wet, blew on it, sucked it. Anything to make her squirm. Then did the same to the other one.

  When they finally came, it was mostly with hoarse groaning. It was all they could manage at this point.

  As Max lay on top of him, nearly falling asleep again, Charlie’s voice boomed from below, “You two better not have been fucking in my kitchen!”

  Zé chuckled. “Told you it was a good idea to move out of her kitchen.”

  “Yes, yes. The cat’s always right. Now close the bedroom door before the dogs come back.”

  chapter TWENTY-FIVE

  “I want you bastards to stay out of my room!”

  Keane looked up from his breakfast to see his baby brother stomping around the kitchen with his backpack over his shoulder.

  “I don’t like when you guys are in my stuff!”

  “What are you talking about?” Shay asked.

  “You know what I’m talking about. You all know what I’m talking about!” He pointed an accusing finger at them. “It’s not my fault what’s going on with Natalie. And I told you she’d be back! So stop blaming me! I’ve got enough happening in my life right now!”

  Then their baby brother stormed out of the house, heading to one of his science or math summer classes in preparation for college, Keane guessed.

  “What the fuck was that about?” Finn asked.

  “I’m not sure going to college right now is in his best interest,” Shay said, devouring his oatmeal. “Maybe he should take one of those gap-year things.”

  “Fuck that,” Keane snarled. “He’s going to college. And if either one of you mentions ‘gap year’ to him, I’ll break your legs.”

  “Can I just say”—Finn rapped his knuckles against the table—“it’s always a delight being around you, big brother.”

  * * *

  Charlie handed over a plate of muffins to Zé and smirked when he thanked her and went out the back door humming. She hadn’t seen him that relaxed since he’d arrived.

  Her sister was still upstairs asleep, which was also a change. Usually Max was coming in the back door, covered in honey and bee stings. For her not to spend the night raiding local hives was definitely something new.

  Stevie had opted to spend the night in the city at the Jean-Louis Parker home so that she and Oriana could get up early and get right to work on their ballet. Shen stayed with her, of course. Kyle, however, had returned at daybreak and gone right into the garage to work, which was where he was at that very moment. If he’d had fun at his party, he didn’t really show it. The kid seemed a little young to be this stressed out, but Stevie hadn’t been much better when she was eighteen.

  Of course, it was because of Stevie that Charlie felt the need to keep an eye on Kyle. She knew how hard child prodigies were on themselves. These were driven, determined children, who wanted nothing more than to do their work and be brilliant at it all the time. Bumps in the road weren’t easy for them. A small bump could sideline them for days, months, even years. A large bump could put them out of commission forever. Unlike Max, who had been rolling with all sorts of drama hitting her life, Stevie didn’t simply roll with her problems. Sometimes she made what Charlie called a “panic-run,” meaning she charged through some problems without even bothering to look up because she was so determined to put them behind her. But sometimes, and these were the times that really worried Charlie, Stevie would get depressed. So depressed that Charlie was nothing but relieved when her baby sister checked herself into a mental health recovery center.

  Not wanting Kyle to suffer that kind of depression—few people were as aware of their mental health as Stevie, including Charlie herself—Charlie made sure the kid ate regularly, got exercise, took some time off from his work, and found some friends his own age. Well, she hadn’t managed that last one. Kyle was a lot to take. Regular kids didn’t want anything to do with him. Charlie was sure that her seventeen-year-old self would have stuck his head in one of the school toilets and flushed. Still, there had to be kids he could hang with. Kids who got him, even if they weren’t necessarily geniuses themselves. She just had to find them.

  Until then, though, she could continue to watch out for the ego-driven little bastard she’d come to like so much.

  “Morning,” Max said as she entered the kitchen. She’d showered and put on clothes but she was still half-asleep from what Charlie could tell. She poured herself a large mug of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table.

  “Want a muffin?”

  Max gestured to the dough Charlie was working. “What ar
e you making?”

  “Quick-rise cinnamon buns.”

  “I’ll wait for one of those.”

  “Cool. How’s your arm?”

  “Fine. My knife wounds always heal faster than my gunshot wounds. Do you find that?”

  “I try not to get shot too often.”

  “Bitch.”

  “Did you have a good time last night?”

  Max’s head dropped. “Okay, I told this to Nelle and apparently, I’m going to have to tell you: we’re not doing this.”

  “Not doing what?”

  “Talking about me and Zé.”

  “Awww. You’re shy about your love.”

  “Oh, get a grip.”

  Charlie began to sing, “Max has got a boyfriend. Max has got a boyfriend. He’s in a tree-ee, eatin’ mu-u-u-fins.”

  “Seriously?”

  * * *

  Max didn’t appreciate her sister’s laughter when the coffee hadn’t kicked in yet.

  “Are you done?” she demanded when the laughter-snorting began.

  “Yes. I’m done. Sorry about that. I had a moment.”

  Max ran her thumb along the rim of her coffee mug and asked something she’d just been thinking about. “What should I do about Mairi?”

  “I thought you didn’t want to do anything.”

  “I started thinking—”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “—she’ll probably try to get to me by hurting you and Stevie. Especially after what we talked about last night. I really fucked with her head.”

  “Like mother, like daughter?”

  “Something like that.”

  “We can try to lure her to us.”

  “Think that’ll work?”

  “Maybe.”

  “She did tell me she was going after Dad. That she had Uncle Will’s blessing to do it.”

  Charlie was silent for a few moments.

  “What?” Max asked.

  “I’m trying to think about how I can use that to our advantage.”

  Max sat up in her chair. “But what about Dad?”

  The sisters stared at each other until they both exploded into laughter.

  “You are too funny,” Charlie said when they finally stopped laughing.