Sexual Healing [Impulse 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Zara Chase

  Impulse 6

  Sexual Healing

  Caitlyn Eton witnesses her boss’s murder. Terrified that she’ll be next, she runs for her life and finds herself drawn to Impulse, Florida. Unable to breathe the thin air, she’s discovered unconscious and close to death by alpha cheetahs Jared Carlton and Bryce Dalton, who save her life.

  Convinced that Caitlyn’s the human mate they’ve been desperately seeking, the guys must first figure out who’s sent her to Impulse and why. Rogue bears are desperate to get their paws on Impulse to benefit from its unique qualities. Jared, at the point of losing his powers and strength for want of a mate, must contemplate a fight to the death with the leading rogue bear if he’s to save the woman he loves and the Impulse community as a whole.

  Caitlyn could restore his powers by mating with him, but Jared would never ask her to make that sacrifice…

  Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Shape-shifter

  Length: 47,875 words

  SEXUAL HEALING

  Impulse 6

  Zara Chase

  MENAGE EVERLASTING

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

  SEXUAL HEALING

  Copyright © 2013 by Zara Chase

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-936-3

  First E-book Publication: May 2013

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

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  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  SEXUAL HEALING

  Impulse 6

  ZARA CHASE

  Copyright © 2013

  Chapter One

  “Thanks, do come again soon.”

  Caitlyn waved the last of the restaurant’s customers away, closed the door behind them and gratefully leaned her aching back against it.

  “I thought they’d never go.” She kicked off one flat pump and rubbed her cramped toes against her opposite calf, sighing when feeling slowly returned to them. “Why do people linger for so long?”

  Tony Angelo looked up from counting the night’s takings and winked. “You make them too welcome, cara mia.”

  Caitlyn tried not to wince. She hated having to be nice to the creep. She hated it even more when her boss tried to flirt with her or spouted Italian endearments in an effort to impress her. He was about as Italian as she was a size two, and Caitlyn suspected the closest he’d ever gotten to Italy was Venice Beach. She wondered what he’d say if he knew she’d spent two years as an au pair in Florence and that her Italian was better than his.

  She was immune to Tony’s noxious form of charm—with good reason—but the customers fell for it wholesale. It amused her in a masochistic sort of way. This was West Palm Beach, the land of the rich and powerful. But it seemed being rich didn’t equate to having full-on bullshit detectors. The old ladies Tony sweet-talked lapped up the attention and kept coming back for more.

  “All part of the service,” Caitlyn said wearily.

  Tony looked up from his calculator with an expression of…well, calculation. Damn, she could have phrased that better. He was too arrogant to suppose any woman could hold out against him for long and would interpret her remark as deliberate encouragement. He’d put the move on Caitlyn the moment she’d applied for a waitress job in his pseudo-Italian restaurant two long weeks ago and seemed genuinely perplexed by his lack of progress. It was pathetic.

  “Come and sit down, put your feet up, and have a drink. You’ve earned it.”

  It was then that Caitlyn noticed they were completely alone. How had that happened? Where was the other waitress? Oh yes, she’d had to leave early, Caitlyn remembered now, but the kitchen staff ought to be around still. A feeling of unease trickled down her spine. Had Tony found out who she really was and why she was here? Had he sent everyone home without her realizing it while she’d been chatting with those last customers? Shit, she was in trouble and had no idea what to do.

  “Just give me a moment.”

  Caitlyn was wary, but the thought of Mia strengthened her resolve. Tony was in a mellow mood, and she was probably inventing trouble where none existed. This was the opportunity she’d been striving to create, and she couldn’t afford to let it pass. She already knew he enjoyed boasting. Perhaps, if she encouraged him to talk, he’d let something slip—some clue as to what had happened to Mia. Better yet, she might finally get past the permanently locked door to his private apartment—the only place where she was likely to find any clues—but at what price? Caitlyn could take care of herself but wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep up the pretense, or avoid having her cover blown by someone she knew, so it was now or never.

  “I…er, need to use the bathroom.”

  “You don’t need to make yourself beautiful for me. It’s impossible to improve on perfection.”

  Christ, did he really just say that? Caitlyn wanted to gag. Instead she headed toward the ladies’ restroom, thinking the guy really was a grade-A jerk. The restaurant was eerily quiet, no sound other than Tony’s calculator and his muttered oaths when the totals didn’t meet with his expectations. He’d
even turned off the god-awful taped Muzak that flooded the restaurant during opening hours. He told the clients that it reminded him of the “old country,” and the suckers fell for it every time.

  Caitlyn lingered in the bathroom, preparing herself mentally for this obviously staged one-to-one, anxious yet determined. She was smarter than Tony, and she was a woman on a mission. She could do this. She…hell, what was that?

  Shouting? Breaking glass?

  Without stopping to think, Caitlyn rushed from the bathroom back into the main body of the restaurant. What she saw there made her stop dead in her tracks, rendered temporarily motionless with shock. Then survival instincts kicked in and she ducked behind a serving station, her heart beating at double its normal rate. Looking absolutely petrified, Tony stood behind the bar, pleading with a thug pointing a gun directly at his torso.

  Shit, this was bad!

  Don’t shoot him. Not until he tells me what he’s done with Mia. Then he’s all yours.

  The gunman briefly glanced in her direction, almost as though he could hear her thoughts or her frantically pounding heart. She was pretty sure he hadn’t seen or heard her above the sound of Tony’s pleading voice. Caitlyn reminded herself that she was wearing flat shoes with soft soles that made no noise on the tiled floor, and she hadn’t given herself away by letting the door to the bathroom slam.

  No, the thug couldn’t know she was there. Reassured, she poked her head out and tried to get a better look at him. She couldn’t see his face very well because he was wearing a padded jacket and had the collar pulled up around his ears, but just his size was enough to scare her shitless. The man was huge, but she could see that his bulk was made up of muscle rather than fat and if he did see her she’d never outrun him before he got a shot off. The hand holding the gun was rock firm, she noticed, quailing. This guy was the real deal.

  “Last chance,” the gunman said. “Tell me what I need to know while you’ve still got the breath left to do it.”

  “Look, I did what you asked. She’s here.” Tony spread his hands, which were shaking, and sweat trickled down his face. “We had a deal. I’ve done my part.”

  “Then I don’t need you anymore, asshole. Bye, bye.”

  Caitlyn smothered a gasp as the gunman waved the gloved fingers of his spare hand at Tony and pulled the trigger with the other. Caitlyn held her breath, waiting for the sound of an explosion that didn’t come. Ah, she thought, he’s either fired a blank, the gun had a silencer attached, or he changed his mind. Unable to look away, Caitlyn noticed the look of surprise on Tony’s face and saw the gush of blood spreading across his white shirt as he slowly crumpled to the floor. She knew then that the only heart that had undergone a change was Tony’s.

  A permanent change.

  The gunman turned her way again, just for a moment, before casually leaving the restaurant. Even if she hadn’t just seen him shoot a man in cold blood, the expression in his emotionless eyes—eyes that reminded her of a dead fish—would have been enough to cause pure terror to trickle down her spine. Someone who could shoot another human being without so much as a stab of conscience was evil personified.

  Caitlyn would never forget those eyes.

  * * * *

  Jared knew half an hour into the session that Stella wouldn’t hack it in Impulse.

  “It’s not that I don’t care about Ryan,” she said, referring to the beta tiger who desperately wanted her to become his mate. “I do. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, but I’m not sure I can give up everything I have in the world outside of Impulse. That’s what I’d have to do, isn’t it?”

  “What do you have that’s so important to you there?”

  Stella tilted her pretty head to one side. “Well, I don’t have any close family to worry about.”

  Jared already knew that. If she had, she wouldn’t have gotten this far. None of the Impulse shifters could risk mating with a human who had family ties. Those families always got curious about their loved-one’s circumstances in the end and started asking awkward questions. If that happened, Impulse’s secret would come out, and the alphas had a duty to ensure that never happened.

  “But I do have a job that I enjoy.”

  “What do you do, Stella?”

  “I’m a fashion designer,” she said, pride in her voice.

  “We have a booming fashion industry here in Impulse. All the tourists want to take something back to prove they’ve survived our thin air. I’m sure Irena at Feline Fashions would welcome a helping hand.”

  “What, design tacky T-shirts for the tourists, do you mean?” She wrinkled her perky little nose. “I’m better than that.”

  Her scathing response reinforced Jared’s initial impression. She wouldn’t be staying. Even if she decided to give it a go, Jared would advise the council against allowing it. Most humans, including this one, didn’t seem to understand that they took the no-divorce policy seriously here in Impulse. If the woman got fed up her memory would be cleared and she could walk, but the life of the shifter she left behind would be trashed. Unless he had sex with her regularly he’d lose his powers and wouldn’t be able to shift—the equivalent of a living death for any shifter.

  Ryan wouldn’t like Jared’s decision because he seemed besotted with Stella, convinced he could overcome her concerns and make her happy. If he wasn’t prepared to toe the line, he could always leave Impulse and live with the woman in her world. She wouldn’t know what he was, not when she went back to reality, because they’d clear her head of all recollections of Impulse. Ryan would still be able to shift but would lose the longevity and sense of community he currently enjoyed in Impulse. Hopefully Ryan wouldn’t think it was worth the sacrifice, would stay put and continue his search for the right mate. He was a talented and valuable member of the colony, and he would be sorely missed if he decided not to stay.

  Even so, tired all the time nowadays, Jared felt a fresh bout of fatigue wash over him at the thought of the battle to come with the young shifter. Ryan reckoned he was in lurve, so there was no telling what he might do when Jared rang the death knell over his mating ambitions.

  Jared let Stella talk about herself for the full hour’s session, and she had no difficulty filling the allotted time. Few people did. As Impulse’s resident psychologist it was Jared’s responsibility to check out all potential human mates, just to make sure they really understood the sacrifices they would have to make if they wanted to be a shifter’s partner—and the benefits, if they decided the life was for them.

  “You’re so easy to talk to,” Stella said, batting her lashes at him. “It’s as though you really understand my conflict.”

  Shit, I hate it when I’m right. And Jared now knew he definitely was when it came to Stella. She was supposed to be head over heels in love with Ryan and yet she was flirting with Jared. Geez, he was desperate for a human mate himself, but no way would he settle for one as feckless as Stella. He’d lose his powers before he did something that reckless. Hell, he’d lose them anyway if his mate didn’t show up soon. He was getting weaker by the day, and it was getting harder and harder to disguise the fact.

  Jared heard Bryce, his fellow alpha cheetah, saying good-bye to a client who’d just enjoyed a full-body massage beneath Bryce’s skilled fingers. That was just what Jared could do with himself.

  “Time’s up, Stella,” he said, interrupting a monologue about her previous boyfriend, one whom she still seemed to be pretty attached to.

  “Oh, but I didn’t tell you about—”

  “Another time.”

  Jared guided her to the door and closed it behind her. He then took the stairs three at a time, just to prove to himself that he still had enough energy, and joined Bryce.

  “Hey, how did it go?” Bryce asked.

  Jared shook his head. “Ryan ain’t gonna like me.”

  “Shit!”

  “Yeah well, better that he finds out now.”

  Jared threw himself into a chair. Bryce, attuned
to his needs as always, moved behind him and dug his long fingers into the knotted muscles of Jared’s neck. Jared closed his eyes and let Bryce work his magic, already feeling the stresses of the morning draining out of him as Bryce set to work doing what he did best.

  “You care too much. That’s your problem,” Bryce said. “Take your shirt off, lay out on that couch and let me sort you out.”

  Jared flashed him a knowing smile. “And you know where that will lead.”

  “I sure as fuck hope so.”

  Laughing, Jared stripped off not just his shirt but all his clothes, and lay facedown on the couch. “Do your worst, big guy.”

  Anticipation rippled through Jared. A good massage was inherently sexual at the best of times. Delivered by Bryce it was nothing short of orgasmic. He was the best in the business, and Jared knew that when working on him, no holds were barred—not like they would be when Bryce was in professional mode. Bryce would allow himself to be visually aroused, to say nothing of the physical. The oxytocins they both released would create an intimate bond to further cement their close relationship, ultimately leading to enhanced satisfaction for them both.

  He also knew that Bryce, the mean fink, would torment him forever before they got down to business. Shit, he felt horny. Weak, but still horny. All the other alphas in Impulse had found human mates to enhance their shifter powers. Jared and Bryce hadn’t, and they were running out of time.

  Jared had noticed recently how quickly he tired when in cheetah form. That was unacceptable. Cheetahs were the fastest land animal in existence, but other felines in Impulse could now best them, although they tried hard not to let Jared and Bryce know it. Hell, Jared knew they were just playing nice, but he hated that it was necessary. It wasn’t so bad for Bryce. He was younger than Jared and still had most of his strength, which was why Bryce never lost an opportunity to dish out the free massages. In spite of everything, Jared managed to grin. That was about the only upside to the situation.