“You mean he wanted your life to be predictable. Not something where you flew by the seat of your pants like your big brother.”
“He was being practical.”
“No, Katy. He was scared.” Alek stood, his expression compassionate despite the sternness behind his words. “Following your gut or your emotions isn’t a bad thing. It’s just something he wasn’t comfortable doing and he pushed that belief off on you.”
Had he?
She’d always thought the way things had changed was more a case of growing up. Of accepting reality, and stowing away all her flighty ideas the way every other responsible person did.
And yet, looking back, Alek had never compromised on what he’d wanted. Not once. He’d had exceptional aptitude for the career he’d chosen in criminal justice, but he’d ditched it in favor of starting his own dojang and never once looked back—no matter how much her parents had taken him to task for what they’d deemed a foolish decision.
So, who was she? The woman who only weeks ago had been close enough to landing the coveted environmental internship she’d fought so hard to get? Or the passionate, deeply feeling woman she’d glimpsed in her dreams last night?
“What do you want, Katy? If you can figure that out, you’ll have a helluva better shot at navigating all the shit life throws at you—the good and the bad. More importantly, you’ll have a good time doing it. Which, if you ask me, beats taking everyone else’s marching orders hands down.”
She turned, drawn to the sketches mounted on the wall, those closest to the window lifting in a subtle flutter on the night’s soft breeze. One by one, she studied them. Such detail. And the subjects ranged from people to symbols she didn’t stand a prayer of recognizing.
Over six hours she’d spent in this room, but not once had she taken the time to appreciate Priest’s talent. To explore and learn more about the man who’d kept her captivated even at a distance.
All because of guilt.
Because she’d dared to feel and explore something that didn’t fit neatly in the realm of logic. Worse, she’d done it in the wake of her parents’ death, setting aside what her conscience deemed was right in favor of what she wanted.
Outside the window, the live music from the pub swelled as new patrons made their way in or out, then died once more. Although, the throbbing bass was still there. Muted, but persistent. Rather like the pulse growing inside her.
She faced her brother and took a deep breath, the muscles in her torso trembling as if it had been years since they’d had such room to do so. “Was Priest busy with a client when you came up?”
The grin that split her brother’s face was pure mischief. All male and one-hundred percent locked on the direction her thoughts had taken. “Gonna jump in the deep end, huh?”
Jump wasn’t exactly the word she’d have used. More like swan dive or bungee jump. “I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”
Alek chuckled and rubbed the back of his hand against his chin. “Yeah, not sure that’s gonna matter with Priest. Once you say go, my guess is you won’t need to steer anymore.” He jerked his head toward the hallway and the stairs that led down to the shop. “Come on.”
“But if he’s busy with a client, I don’t want to bother him.”
“Who gives a shit? Live a little.” He wrapped one arm around her, hugged her tight to his side in the grizzly bear way he’d used since they were little and led her to the door. “Besides, watching you two circle each other last night was funny as hell. I’m looking forward to an encore.”
Chapter Nineteen
A funny thing about curveballs and life—any time a man thought he’d hit his daily quota and imagined shit couldn’t go any more sideways he was pretty much guaranteed of at least earning one more.
Priest’s theory proved true the second his mate ventured out of the cave she’d created of his office. For all of a second, he spied the same soft hope and curiosity she’d looked at him with this morning. Then she clocked the busty blonde perched in front of him—or more importantly the way the blonde thrust her barely covered tits out while he finished up the bandage on her chest—and Kateri’s softness morphed to lethal fury.
Hard not to blame her. If he’d walked in and found Kateri this close to a man, he’d have slaughtered first and asked questions later. But dealing with people like the woman in front of him was part of the job. A very unpleasant part he’d have happily pawned off on Tate if his ward hadn’t already been two hours into a full sleeve when the blonde had sauntered in with a wad of cash.
Priest rolled away, tossed the adhesive to the table and peeled off his gloves. “All done. Follow your aftercare instructions and call the main number if you have any problems.”
“Don’t you have a personal number I could call?”
Kateri’s cheeks flamed red-hot and her gaze narrowed with an intent that said she was ready to gut the woman.
Yep. Definitely a job that would’ve been better for Tate to handle. Honest to God, Priest couldn’t decide if he owed Alek for getting Kateri back downstairs, or if he wanted to kick fate in the balls for its shitty timing. “Afraid not.”
Alek chuckled and settled on the black leather couch with a prime view of the show playing out in front of him. Just for that, Priest had half a mind to bloody the fucker when they sparred tomorrow. And there would absolutely be sparring tomorrow. Especially, if Kateri’s jealous spurt ended up playing against Priest instead of for him.
Standing, he braced his hands on his hips and gave the blonde a look he hoped quashed any last hopes. “Any questions?”
The blonde glanced over her shoulder at Kateri, finally cluing in to the death glare aimed her way. “Um, I guess not.”
“Good call. Get dressed.” He jerked his head in Alek’s direction. “The goofy lughead over there will walk you to your car.”
Not waiting for a reply, he stalked toward Kateri, taking his gaze off her only long enough to say to Alek, “You good to stay with Tate?”
He’d said it as a question, but he’d put a healthy amount of demand behind it. Enough so that Alek’s attention only volleyed between Kateri and Priest once before understanding materialized behind his eyes and he cleared his throat. “Yeah. Sure.”
He turned his sights on Kateri and closed in.
She matched it with a few steps backward, the furrow between her brows digging deeper. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I’m not thinking.” He kept going, the display case where Jade housed all her charms and piercing supplies leaving Kateri nowhere else to retreat. He snaked one arm around her hips, yanked her against him and cupped the back of her head none too gently. “I’m doing.”
And then he took.
Consumed her mouth as man, cat and darkness commanded.
Not surprisingly, she moaned into his mouth and sunk her nails into his shoulders. Whether it was a primal female instinct to mark him in front of another woman, or sheer fury at how close an intruder had come to her mate, he hadn’t a clue, but his T-shirt was likely the only thing that kept her from drawing blood.
He didn’t care. He’d take whatever she dished out if it meant wiping away whatever ugliness had settled in her head. If it grounded her in the truth that was them.
Her mouth opened on a protest and he thrust his tongue inside.
The sweet trace of chocolate, coffee and a spice he’d swear was spurred from her anger greeted him. Only when her muscles uncoiled beneath him and she slid her hands to the back of his neck, did he ease the kiss, assuring her with every languid nip and lick exactly who he wanted.
Murmured voices sounded in the background, followed by the bell’s jingle over the main entrance and the heavy clunk of the door falling shut.
Then silence, broken only by the muted buzz of Tate’s iron behind closed doors and the escalating breaths between him and his mate. He broke
the kiss and ran his nose alongside hers. “Talk to me.”
Her nails dug into his skin and the sweetest growl slipped past her lips. “I didn’t like her touching you.”
Her touching him. Not him touching her. A minor distinction, but a promising one. “You’ve watched me working on other women.”
She pulled back enough to meet his eyes and snapped, “On their ankle and their back. And neither one of them looked like they were about to throw themselves at you.”
Damn, but she was beautiful. Furious and afraid, but fully embracing her emotions and absolutely gorgeous doing it. “It’s never sexual for me, Kateri. Especially, not with a stranger and some random, clichéd tattoo off the internet.” He tightened his grip on the back of her head and held her steady, his voice dropping for the rest of his words. “But I guarantee you, when I mark you it will be very sexual. The magic, the ink, the pain and my touch...by the time I’m done, you’ll beg me to take you every way a man can take a woman. And make no mistake, mihara. I’ll take you up on every one of them.”
She swallowed, and the way her eyes dilated gave a decent hunch at the images her mind had conjured to accompany his statement.
“Now,” he said before she could claw herself up from her stupor, “we’re going to get on my bike, and you’ll get the time it takes between here and home to figure out if you want more space, or if you’re going to put us both out of our misery and take what you need.”
He pulled away and snagged her wrist in a firm grip, eager to get her alone and away from the reminder of what she’d seen.
“I don’t need the ride home to know what I want.”
Her bold words stopped him cold before he’d gotten a full stride toward the door, and the warning hum that had hit him only minutes before his brother had wrecked their clan with his dark magic danced along every inch of his skin. Only this time there was something different to it. A lightness similar to walking out into the sun after being in the dark. Nothing like the weighted dread he’d felt that day.
He turned, met her fathomless stare and braced for the worst.
“If there was any uncertainty before, it turned crystal clear when I came down here and saw that woman close to you.” She stepped forward, closing what distance he’d created, threading her fingers with his and squeezing tight. “I’m done with waiting. I want what’s mine.”
Chapter Twenty
Whoever penned the expression tugged the tiger’s tail had obviously never tugged a panther’s. If they had, the latter would have been the ultimate adage for pushing the limits of bravery, because Katy had done exactly that. In fact, the way Priest had stared down at her in the seconds following her confession, she’d halfway expected him to shove her against the wall and take her right then and there.
Instead, his frown had shifted to a devilish smirk, and his whole demeanor had taken on the languorous movements of a predator who’d just been presented with its favorite dessert and was intent on savoring every succulent bite.
And oh, how he’d savored. Rather than take her right to his bike, he’d taken them on a detour along Main Street, neither of them speaking except when he stopped and insisted they indulge in ice cream. But what he didn’t share with words, he shared with touch and heated looks that made her heart race and her breath hitch.
Even the eventual ride on his bike had been a seduction. As if he knew that each drawn-out second as they neared his home ramped her desire that much higher. By the time he pulled into his drive, killed the engine and walked her to the door, she’d have willingly taken him on the front lawn if he’d asked.
Now here she was, in lockstep beside him taking one step after the other, his open bedroom door across the catwalk a gateway she was both terrified and thrilled to cross. Twenty-four hours since she’d followed this same path. Where yesterday she’d been a riotous mess, muddled by so many conflicting thoughts and feelings it was impossible to tell one from the other, today there was stillness. A certainty she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt before.
But Priest was hers.
She’d known it the second she’d laid eyes on the blonde offering herself to Priest and had nearly launched herself across the room in a frenzied rage. How she’d managed not to do exactly that was still a mystery she couldn’t unravel, but there was no way she was letting what she wanted slip through her fingers.
Not this time.
Reaching the bedroom door, he guided her through ahead of him. Her gaze landed on the bed and the full impact of what she’d agreed to reverberated clear to her bones. This was it. Full intimacy with a man who wouldn’t balk in his dominance. Who’d demand her submission and not stop until she gave it.
Moving in behind her, he turned her to face him then gently framed her face. “Breathe, mihara.” As he had at the shop, he stole her kiss before she could speak, taking full advantage of her surprise and slicking his tongue past her lips.
It was exactly what she’d needed. As if his lips and tongue gliding wet and warm against her own had the power to unplug every thought save those tied to sensation.
She sighed, tilted her head back for more of his addictive taste and pressed closer to his heat. Savored the slab of warm, hard muscle beneath his T-shirt and the way her heavy breasts gave way to his strength. She wanted more. Wanted to feel his heat without their clothes between them. The rasp of her straining nipples against his bare flesh.
But he only kissed her, lazily drawing her deeper and deeper and taking his sweet, frustrating time.
She moaned and rubbed herself against him, tilting her neck to give him better access as he blazed a drugging trail with his mouth along her jawline. It was beautiful. Relaxed and unhurried, but so far from what she’d expected her thoughts slipped out without censor. “Why are you being so tender?”
His lips curved against her skin and he nipped the spot right where her neck and shoulders met. He licked the same spot and chuckled, the warmth of his breath teasing the wet path he’d left behind. “This isn’t tender, kitten.” Slowly, he lifted his head and began working free the hasty braid she’d fashioned for their ride home. “This is me keeping a choke hold on my beast and the darkness so I don’t throw you down and fuck you until all you know in this world is the feel of my cock inside you.”
Holy hell.
Her body mirrored the thought with a tremor she couldn’t have hidden if she’d tried.
And he felt it, tightening the arm he kept around her waist as he lazily combed his fingers higher and higher, studying her every response. “You like that.” Not a question, but an observation spoken aloud.
Still, she answered, the admission on her lips fascinatingly erotic. “Yes.”
He hummed at that, the approving tone of the low rumble stroking her much the way she’d petted his cat. “That’s good. Because sooner or later, I won’t be able to hold it back, and the darkness is going to get its turn.” He speared his fingers in her hair and fisted the thick strands, giving her just a taste of what he’d promised. “Until that happens, I plan to build you up and make sure you’re ready for it.”
Ready for it? She was already strung so tight she could likely power half the electricity needed for his house. Worse, she didn’t have a clue how to manage it all. Only knew that the growing current needed an outlet. A place to unleash and purge the burgeoning surplus before it consumed her entirely. “Priest—”
He captured her protest with another kiss, the press of his mouth more insistent than the last. A vow and an order all rolled up into one. When he finally pulled away again, it was only enough to murmur against her lips. “Now, you’re going to stay right here and do exactly what I tell you.”
He shifted as though to move away, but she dug fingertips into his broad shoulders, practically clawing to keep him in place. “I don’t like the way that sounds.”
“You may not like the way it sounds, but you’ll like how i
t feels.” He pried her hands free and eased back, a salacious grin on his face that said whatever came next would either break her, or send her into a whole different stratosphere.
He ambled to the oversized club chair near the bed. Compared to the rest of his manly furnishings, the subtle gold damask design had seemed slightly out of place when she’d first seen it. Though, watching him settle in it now, splaying his big body on the deep cushions and resting his head against the raised, yet slightly reclined back, it made perfect sense. A chair meant for a king...or a high priest. “Take off your clothes.”
It was the last thing she’d expected. A blunt order with zero give that whipped her thinking brain to life and urged her to run. But her body rebelled and stayed locked in place, her thighs quivering in anticipation. Beneath her ribbed tank, her nipples strained harder against the cotton, eager for his gaze. And since she’d pushed the limits of her courage and gone sans bra this morning, they’d jetted right to feature presentation.
She smoothed her hands across the jeans covering her hips, her palms damp where her mouth could barely muster any moisture at all. At the back of her mind, the question Alek had posed whispered and nudged her to jump.
What do you want, Katy?
She wanted this. Right here. Right now. Nothing but pleasure and what felt good. Curling her fingers around the hem of her tank, she sucked in a bracing breath and peeled it up and over her head.
The room’s cool air rushed to greet her, sinfully caressing her skin and making her breasts grow taut and heavy. Priest’s pendant hung heavy at the hollow of her throat, the weight somehow accenting just how much she’d bared.
Priest rubbed his hands along the chair’s thick armrest and gripped the edge, his covetous gaze locked on her breasts. Despite his outward appearance of control, his voice was deep. Almost broken. “More.”
She’d done that. Drawn a confident and powerful man to the edge. Made his voice crack with the same desire that pulsed at her core. The effect was staggering. Intoxicating and strangely addictive.
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