Beneath the Skin (de La Vega Cats)

by Lauren Dane

  She nodded, her gaze glassy as she stared out over the garden. “I was in a coma for a week.”

  For a shifter to be out that long meant she’d been so close to death her system shut down to continue to operate at the most minimal level until her body could heal.

  “As for the rest? The silver filings they used in the open wounds in my shoulder fucked up my muscles. Some of the damage is permanent. At first I couldn’t even use my right arm. I’ve been going to physical therapy. I’ve gotten a great deal of my strength back, but if I’m lucky I’ll be at eighty percent. I used to rock climb. They don’t advise it now. And my coordination has been affected as well.”

  “Can you fly anymore?”

  “A lot of flying these days is really done with computers and autopilot. So I can do that, easily. And I’m told I can fly smaller aircraft and helicopters again once I get the okay from my PT. I don’t know about the other stuff, the speed of response and all that jazz.”

  He heaved a sigh. “Christ. I’m sorry. Not sorry you can fly still. Because that’s a good thing.”

  “Hopefully anyway.”

  “If anyone can do it, you can.”

  “We’ll see. I have about eighty percent of an engineering degree. I’ve been toying with going back.”

  “Do you want to be an engineer?”

  She laughed. “Not really.”

  “Do you want to fly again?”

  “I love to fly.”

  “What’s stopping you? If you can fly helicopters and smaller planes, that is.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes you do.”

  “I wish we could get drunk.”

  Surprised, he laughed. “Renee has this potion she makes. It started as a way to put Weres under for surgery. But it’s really moonshine. I didn’t make that up, my brother Galen calls it hooch.”

  “Maybe later.” She sighed and he kissed the top of her head.

  “I hear sex is also a good relaxer and mood enhancer.”

  She laughed and he let some of his tension go. “That so?”

  “It’s what I hear.” He paused a while. “You favor your left side sometimes. Is that weakness or are you in pain?”

  She shifted, looking down at her hands. “Both. The doctors don’t really have a lot of experience with the lasting effects of silver poisoning. But it’s a possibility that the chronic pain will be permanent.”

  He pushed to stand, needing the room to stalk a little. His cat was so very close, his control so very thin.

  “But that day, the day I got shot, you lugged me to your apartment.”

  “I’m not totally weak. I’m still a shifter.”

  He loved the way she jutted her chin out. Defiant.

  “I’m getting better. Three weeks ago I could barely stand. I couldn’t use my right hand at all. I had to go to physical therapy three times a week. Now I’m down to once a week. I’m so much stronger than I was.”

  “Your grandmother is proud of you. And she’s right, you shouldn’t feel guilty about what other people have done. This attack wasn’t your fault.”

  “Be that as it may, she has no right to share that with a whole room of strangers. No one needs to know unless I decide to tell them. It changes how people look at you. I don’t have time for that.”

  He understood. In ways he’d never be able to put into words. Understood what it meant to always look strong in the presence of others. Especially other cats.

  “She’s an elder. And your grandmother. As far as I can see she’s not shy either.”

  That made her laugh.

  Chapter Eight

  When they got back to his car, after she’d been talked to by what seemed like a thousand people and her mother had apologized for her grandmother, and she’d told her mother it wasn’t necessary, Gibson had asked her to hold on a moment because he had to speak with Dario about something.

  Once he’d moved off, her father approached. “I’m sorry. She loves you, you know. She wanted everyone there to understand how amazing you are.”

  Mia nodded. “Don’t apologize for her. She’ll only be mad at you if she finds out. It’s who she is. I get it. She didn’t mean to hurt me. I know.”

  He hugged her. “I’m proud of you. We’re all proud of you. This was supposed to be your night.”

  She laughed then. “Dad, it’s all right. I promise. She can’t be anyone other than who she is. And now it’s not a secret and that’s all right too, I suppose. Anyway, it was a nice dinner and I’m full and glad things appear to be on the mend between us and the de La Vegas.”

  “What’s Gibson to you then?”

  “What?”

  “Honey, are you really going to play that game with your father? Don’t waste my time. I watched him all night. He comforted you and you responded. He shielded you every time you two stood near each other.”

  “It’s nothing serious. He’s investigating... Oh hell, I don’t know.” She snorted. “Really I don’t. But it’s not an engagement. He’s not a jerk. I’m not a jerk. We enjoy each other’s company.”

  “If I thought he was a jerk, I’d have never come here tonight. But don’t fool yourself into thinking the way you two are is anything less than the seeds of imprinting. And if you go that route, you’d better understand what it is to be with a male like him. You grew up with laid-back men. Gibson is not laid-back. He’s an alpha.”

  Boy did she know that.

  “I’m not imprinting. I can have a relationship with another cat without it being imprinting.”

  Jaguar shifters didn’t mate for life in the same way wolves did. There was no one true mate binding of DNA. But what they did was imprint. Their cats settled in, got the scent of the other, marked their territory. And once a cat did that, once the human allowed it and let themselves imprint on the other person and that other cat with them, it was forever. Forever in the same way the wolves had.

  Cats could get married without imprinting. Many did. But Gibson de La Vega wasn’t the type of male who’d settle down without being imprinted. His cat wouldn’t submit to anyone else who wasn’t his forever. It was an important reminder of who she was dallying with. But she couldn’t lie and pretend the idea of imprinting wasn’t important to her as well. Her parents were imprinted. She wanted that connection with someone.

  But for the time being, they were just enjoying each other. And that was that.

  “You can fool yourself, baby girl. But you can’t fool your daddy.” He kissed her forehead, and she rubbed her cheek along his jawline as she hugged him.

  “Go on home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Her grandmother stalked right up and put her hands on her hips. “I am not sorry these other cats know what an impressive woman you are.”

  She held back a smile, nodding. “Grandma, I love you. I understand why you did it. But that was what happened to me. It was my story to tell. Or not.”

  “I never want you to feel guilty for anyone else’s crimes. I know what it is to feel that sort of estrangement. You don’t deserve that. To be alone and misunderstood. I won’t have it.”

  She was going to make Mia cry, damn it.

  Mia hugged her grandmother before Lettie went back to the car where her father waited.

  Gibson approached moments later. “Everything all right?”

  She took a deep breath. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

  “Good. I think you should come over to my place.”

  She allowed that smile at last. “Yeah? Are you going to sully me?”

  “At least twice and I don’t want to do it in your brother’s bed.”

  She laughed and let him open her door. “Let’s go, then.”

  She liked to watch the city roll by out her window as he drove. He was a man of few
words. There was quiet between them, but it wasn’t strained. She didn’t feel the need to fill it with chatter, or to feel as if he didn’t care. He just didn’t speak unless it was very important.

  And it gave her a chance to think about what her father had said. Because Gibson had shielded her. He’d stroked a hand up and down her back when she’d been alarmed. He’d sat with her, arm around her shoulder as she poured out the horror of that day back in Los Angeles. It was...well, she...it made her a little tingly.

  He was big and bad and totally in charge, but he didn’t take over. That was a plus. And he was an adult, which meant, contrary to what her father said, he could have this thing with her and not imprint or be bossy or whatever. Neither of them were strangers to having a relationship, though she got the feeling his long-term relationships were all with his family and not romantic ones. But there was no reason for it to be anything more than some great times in bed and getting to know each other.

  She turned her head to look at him. His face intent as he drove. In profile he was even more impressive than straight on. His features were so strong, so handsome and slightly feral. There was no mistaking that this was one hundred percent male. He wore a tie and his hair back, and he looked damned fine. But you could shine up the outside and it did not change the fact that he was a brawler. A predator who would bust heads to protect his own.

  It made her smile.

  He hit the garage door opener, and out of the dark, two cats seemed to melt into existence. His place was well guarded, she knew. The cats averted their eyes when he got out, and she waited for him to open her side. He spoke to them briefly, and they melted into the darkness again as he made his way to her door.

  He’d been so sweet to her that evening, and she knew it made him happy to do things like open her door and pull out her chair so she let him. Usually.

  He smiled as she took his hand and got down. It was not as easy in four-and-a-half-inch heels as it was in her sneakers or boots, and the damned SUV was so high up she needed his help to get down anyway. But then he grabbed her around her waist and she slid down his body until her mouth was at his to take a kiss. He took a slow, meandering taste of her as he backed her against the car.

  All she could do was sigh and hold on as his mouth was on hers. He kissed with the same intensity he did everything else. A nip of her lip, a quick flutter of his tongue against hers, he used his lips, teeth and tongue to render her witless and full of his taste.

  When he finally eased her to her feet, she had to gulp in some air before she could put her thoughts and muscles together enough to walk with him into his house.

  His house had been a surprise the first time she’d been there the night she’d been shot and had cleaned the glass from his shoulder. It was masculine with clean lines—that wasn’t so unusual. That fit him quite well. But the reading nook he’d built into the bay window in his bedroom had been an unexpected delight. Books were everywhere, shelves lined his walls. Big, overstuffed chairs presented lots of opportunities to sit and read the day away. Though she figured he probably didn’t get as much of that kind of time as he’d like.

  There was a sense of home and comfort there he’d built and was proud of.

  “You should keep the shoes on.” He led her up the stairs toward his bedroom.

  “Should I?”

  “I have to tell you it’s a recurring fantasy of mine to fuck you while you’re in heels. Well, since I saw you in them and now I can’t stop thinking of it. It’s been in my head all night long.”

  She tossed her bag on the small bench at the foot of his rather ridiculously large bed. “I think I can be about some wish fulfillment.” She undid her hair, which she’d had up in a loose bun and then unbuttoned the front of her blouse.

  He stepped close and bent his head to her chest, his lips brushing over the swell of her right breast. “You smell damned good. Makes me hungry.” He licked over the skin and goose bumps rose. “You know how much I like to eat you up.”

  She swallowed, hard, still not used to how sexy he was when he said stuff like that. He was in charge of his sexuality. He told her what he liked, what he wanted and that was unbelievably hot. Especially when he didn’t say much outside the bedroom.

  “Not gonna argue.”

  He popped the catch on her bra and pushed it and her blouse from her body.

  He kissed her chest and over her scars. That gentle touch so intimate tears sprang to her eyes. He’d done it before, yes, but now he knew the details of the story and he hadn’t shrunk away. He hadn’t been repulsed.

  Big hands cupped her breasts and then his fingers went to work, pinching and tugging her nipples until she moaned and grabbed the waist of his pants, yanking to get them open.

  “You’re very demanding and impatient.” He kissed up her neck to her ear to that spot he knew drove her insane. And it did, making her knees buckle.

  He nipped the spot, bringing a hiss to her lips as she struggled to push him back to finish getting his pants open.

  “You promised to sully me. You’re the Bringer, you’re supposed to keep your word. Get your dick out!”

  He laughed, picking her up and tossing her on his bed. She watched every move as he took off his shirt and tie.

  “Your body makes me sort of dizzy.”

  He paused, his hands on his pants, slowly unzipping. “Says the topless woman in my bed.” He finished, stepping from his pants.

  “You have no underpants on!” She laughed and then unzipped her skirt. “Me either.”

  He jumped to the bed, so graceful and full of power it left her breathless.

  “You’re so dirty. God, I love that. How you could be so totally filthy and yet look so sweet on the outside, it undoes me.”

  Mia pressed her face to his neck, licking the salt of his skin. “Take your hair down. I love it down.”

  He reached back one-handed to undo his hair while the other tossed the now-discarded skirt to the side.

  He hadn’t lied, she totally undid him. Her skin, the way she moved, the way she was so open and greedy about sex, her fearlessness, all of it made her into the total package and it drove him to his knees.

  She made him laugh in bed. It had been years since that had happened.

  He grunted when she grabbed his cock while she licked up his neck. Half a foot shorter than he was and she held her own, writhing against him as he slid a palm down her belly to find her pussy wet and inferno hot. She rolled her hips and urged him on with a whispered “more.”

  But then she scissored her legs and maneuvered up, getting him on his back as she straddled his body.

  “Were you on the wrestling team, baby?”

  Her smile was a mystery as she dipped down to capture his mouth, as she held him close, tugging on his dreads to get him where she wanted. Her taste was glory. Beauty and seduction. She nibbled his bottom lip.

  “I love your mouth. This lip here.” She licked over it as she scooted down a little. “So full and plump. Mmmm.” Down again as she kissed his throat and to each nipple. She licked and sucked, tugging on each ring until he growled at her for more. Again that smile of hers.

  She kissed over his belly. Over the de La Vega inked there, dipping her tongue into his navel, making him shiver a moment. She kissed his hip and the shallow, sensitive spot at the hollow of his hipbone. And then she grabbed his cock, angling it as she brought her gaze to his. “This.” She hummed her delight.

  Before he could say anything she licked across the head and around the crown before taking him into her mouth totally. She palmed his sac as she kept sucking, keeping it tight and very wet. Leaving her gaze on him.

  So. Fucking. Intimate. He wanted to look away. She got inside him and he wasn’t entirely comfortable with it. But his cat seemed to claw his guts at the very idea. His cat loved this boldness in a female, jus
t as much as the man loved the hell out of his cock in her mouth.

  He held his control in check, not wanting to gag her. She pulled off and licked her lips. “Let go.”

  He shook his head. “I’m fine. Don’t stop!”

  She shook her head right back. “I can feel your muscles trembling. What is it you want? Hm?” As she said it, she slid her fingertips back to stroke over his asshole and he groaned.

  “Hadn’t thought of that.” He nearly panted.

  “Then what?”

  “I want to fuck your mouth.”

  “So why don’t you?”

  She sucked him into her mouth again and her fingertips found his asshole once more, this time slick with lube she’d gathered from her pussy.

  The air came from him like a punch. So fucking good he didn’t want to stop so he rolled his hips, and she adjusted herself to take him in easier as he widened his thighs to give her better access.

  He couldn’t have stopped unless she’d ordered him to. And she most assuredly did not as he continued to stroke into that sweet mouth. And when a finger breached that first ring of muscle, the burn made him pause until it spread into a heat that was far more pleasure than pain.

  She worked, mouth in concert with the questing, inexorable invasion of his ass, and when she found his sweet spot and began to rub it, he nearly lost his mind and blew down her throat right then.

  So good, it was a challenge to make it another three minutes until he came with a snarl of her name.

  He lay there, struggling to get his breath back as the reason for it snuggled up into his side. Naked except for those sexy fucking heels.

  “Don’t go anywhere, you’re next.”

  She smiled, her mouth against his skin.

  “Now that my lips and teeth aren’t numb, come a little closer.”

  She levered up, leaning on his chest, and he lazily slid his fingertips down the line of her spine. So feminine, even as she could shoot and punch and curse with the best of them.

  “Why don’t you climb aboard?” He sent her a raised brow.

  She blushed and he turned to his side to kiss her better. “Why you blushing? Hm? Not that I’m complaining, your scent when you blush gets lush and sexy.”