Bobcat (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 2)

by Candace Blevins

  And this was when I realized how head-over-heels I’d fallen for Tess. Cats aren’t monogamous, so why wasn’t I interested in the sexy werewolf looking like sex personified on the stage? I analyzed the skill of the lighting guy, and admired Enigma’s athleticism and talent, but my dick wasn’t hard.

  Fuck. Me.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Tess

  Something was different when Bobcat returned. He showered, climbed into bed with me, and held me, but it was as if I might break. No, that wasn’t it. I couldn’t put a finger on it, couldn’t figure out what’d changed. I was certain something had, though.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Go back to sleep.”

  My eyes flew open. Everything wasn’t okay? I forced myself to remain still, though every instinct wanted to sit up and interrogate him. “What happened?”

  “Happened?”

  “I asked if everything was okay and you told me to go back to sleep. What isn’t okay?”

  He blew out a breath. “I don’t know, and I’m not figuring it out at five in the morning. Sleep, Tessa.”

  I pulled out of his arms and sat up. “Not possible. Something’s changed. What?”

  He rolled to his back and put his arm over his eyes. Blocking me out.

  “If we’re temporary, it doesn’t matter. I’m tired, and I was looking forward to sleeping with you in my arms, but if that isn’t going to happen I can move to another bedroom.”

  If? Was he thinking we might be something other than temporary? I shook my head and went to the bathroom. We had the heat set on fifty-five. Shifters sleep hot, and we had zero humans in the house. The stone tile in the bathroom was colder than the hardwood in the bedroom. I stared at it while I peed. Was it granite? Limestone? I had no idea. Hell, it might be ceramic, for all I knew.

  I walked back to the bed and stood beside it. Looking down. I had questions, but he clearly wasn’t up to talking about this. Cats are odd. Hard-headed. The world has to operate on their time. I knew this going in.

  “You’re less annoying than most cats,” I told him. I’d intended to say he was proving that wrong this morning, but I stopped myself. I needed to wait until he was ready to talk.

  Or until I got frustrated with his silence and decided to walk away, but I wasn’t there yet, so I climbed into bed and let him hold me while I drifted back to sleep.

  Bobcat

  The cat woke me, and I stayed still until I could figure out why. I smelled Tess beside me, and Aaron and Mac outside the door. Not right outside it, but down the hall. I hated not knowing if the sun was up. Had I been asleep five minutes or five hours? I didn’t know.

  Footsteps approached the door and someone knocked. The dragon. I slid away from Tess, stepped into my jeans, and went to the door.

  “What’s up?”

  “Mad Dog’s on the phone for you. Encrypted.”

  Ah. Church. They weren’t supposed to be voting on anything that affected me, and Mad Dog had told me to stay put this morning. I made my way up the steps, accepted the phone from one of the other guards they’d brought in, and made my way to a soundproof room on that level.

  “I’m clear,” I told the image of Mad Dog on the screen.

  “Kitty had some problems last night. Called Squatch. Sounds like she’s going to be living with him in the near future. He wanted you to have a heads up, since you’ve taken an interest in seeing to her safety.”

  “They got a thing?”

  “Looks like.”

  “Okay. He and I will need to have a talk about workplace policy, but between a wolf and a tiger...” I shrugged. “One’s monogamous and the other isn’t. They’re going to have to figure that shit out.”

  “Give me a heads up and let me deal with any problems.”

  Right. Squatch was third in command, basically. He floated between businesses. I was his manager but not really his boss. Having Mad Dog deal with issues simplified things.

  “Will do. Thanks.”

  “When we bring it up at church, I’ll tell them you’re good with it so long as it doesn’t create problems. How’s the fine counsellor doing?”

  I grinned. “Fine.”

  When I hung up with him, I called Slick. I’d proxied my votes and I didn’t foresee any problems, but wanted to check in anyway. They’re an hour ahead of us, so it was even later there.

  “Yo. How’s Birmingham?”

  “I’ve been in a hole for a few days, so it’s been nice. Denned up for the winter. How’s Chatt town? Anything I need to know about church?”

  “Status quo. No surprises. I understand Drake’s with you?”

  “Yeah. Not sure he wants people to know.”

  “Don’t think they do.”

  “Girls okay?”

  “Yeah. We all miss you, but we’re good.”

  “I’m planning to be there for church next week. See you then.”

  Yes. I was going home. Back to Chattanooga. What had I been thinking? No way should I push things with Tess. She wasn’t moving to Chattanooga and I wasn’t staying here. This was temporary.

  She was awake and watching the local news from bed when I went back down. How was it noon already?

  “Sorry. I had a brainfart last night,” I told her. “My only excuse is that I was tired.”

  Her gazed landed on me, heavy and a little angry. She muted the television.

  “What was the brainfart about, exactly?”

  I shrugged and sat in an upholstered armchair. “It’s a little like the memory of a dream, now. We had a new girl debut last night. I’ve seen her practice, but last night, with the lights and everything, she’s really, really good. Acrobatic and strong and sexy. I was just watching her as, I don’t know, like a critic, judging the good and bad from an artistic standpoint. My dick wasn’t hard. I think I put too much weight on that. Attributed it to you.”

  “And?”

  “That’s it. It felt like some big realization. Now? I’m not sure why. You aren’t going to move to Chattanooga, and I won’t be here forever. We enjoy each other while I’m here, or as long as we both want to. Whichever lasts longer.”

  “You want me to submit.”

  “Yes. The cat’s good with what amounts to raping you every time, but I’m getting a little tired of reminding myself it’s consensual non-consent. So, yeah, at some point soon, I hope you’ll invite me in and take an active role. Sex between partners.”

  She tilted her head. Considering. Sometimes you can see the lawyer looking out, just like sometimes you can see the mongoose.

  “What if there’s a compromise?”

  My inner cat wanted to hiss at her, but I soothed him and tried to remind him sometimes you get your prey with patience. He paced inside me, but I didn’t push him down. Instead, I straightened my legs and leaned back in the chair. “I’m listening.”

  “What if I pretend I’m a cowgirl and ride you? No power exchange. Just me riding you. I’m sure we’ll move from position to position because we always do, so it won’t be me on top for the entire session, but…” The attorney seemed to falter, and the woman searched for the right words. “I don’t think I can lie on my back and spread my legs in invitation to start. Part of me wants to apologize for that, but I can’t. This is who I am.”

  The cat was even less happy than before, and I stopped to analyze why. He’d been fine with the pretend-rapes. More than fine with them, so why was he being bitchy now?

  Because he didn’t want us to get our heart broken. He understood human relationships enough to realize that if she couldn’t submit to sex without having to pretend she was being raped, something was fundamentally wrong. This was more than just a kink.

  But if this was just temporary, what did it matter?

  I shook my head. “Maybe, but not now. I’m starving, and nothing good happens when a bobcat’s hungry. I want an omelet, bacon, fried potatoes, and maybe a steak or two on the side. Sound good to you?”

  “Yes. I vote we have breakfa
st and then get ready. Tonight’s when my vampire doppelganger goes to my house, and I’m going to want to be in the control room watching.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” I stood and went to the kitchen — and assumed she’d follow.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Tess

  What the fuck was that? Had he just turned me down, or was he truly starving? It hadn’t come off as a lie, but the RTMC brothers can all lie without smelling rotten. It’s disturbing.

  I’d worn shorts and a t-shirt to bed, so I only brushed my hair and teeth before joining Bobcat in the kitchen. And yes, he frequently destroyed the clothing I wore to bed, but that just made the sex better. So, I kept wearing it.

  He was cutting potatoes when I entered the kitchen, and I got eggs out and began breaking them into a bowl. He smelled of conflict, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up again without being awkward.

  Plus, I wasn’t keen on our guards hearing our private shit.

  “Since we aren’t talking personal shit, maybe we can talk shop? When can our girls start going next door more often again?”

  “If you were like normal pimps, I’d tell you to run your least valuable girl as a test case, knowing you may lose her for a while if she has to do time, but I already know Mad Dog won’t do it, and I don’t think you will, either.”

  I scented his anger, but didn’t see it, and the smell went away so fast, I almost wondered if I’d imagined it. He was too good at hiding his emotions.

  “No. We won’t. The girls are ours. Unless someone proves unfaithful, we won’t turn our back on them.”

  “And if one of your dancers proved unfaithful?”

  “She wouldn’t be allowed back in the building.”

  “You wouldn’t beat her up?”

  “Can’t say how the vote might go, depending on a hundred variables, but she’d have to royally fuck up for it to even come to a vote.”

  In my experience, they were more likely to belt a woman and beat the shit out of a man, but I’d heard substantiated rumors of a bear shifter woman taking a helluva beating for ratting out a brother she’d been screwing, so that wasn’t a hard-and-fast rule. But that wasn’t what I was asking.

  “If the club voted to do it, would you, personally, do it?”

  “I’m not the Sergeant-at-Arms, nor am I an enforcer.”

  “You didn’t answer the question.”

  “I gave you the only answer I intend to give.” Each word was clipped, and I scented aggravation. Perfect.

  “Did you turn me down or were you really that hungry?”

  “Don’t play your lawyer tricks on me — push my buttons and then ask a loaded question.” He turned and glared at me. “Said I was hungry. You startin’ to doubt my word?”

  “The cat’s aggravated.”

  He blew out a breath. “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Why?” He turned back to the potatoes, cut the last one, and slid them off the cutting board into the frying pan where he’d already heated lard. My stomach grumbled.

  “For being such a girl? I’m not sure how to put it, and maybe I shouldn’t have brought this up out here. We’ll talk about it later. In answer to your question, three ADAs walked off the job in the past ten days. The DA is understaffed and can barely keep up with the shit other people are piling on her — she doesn’t have the resources to go after anything else. If you have no reason to believe you’re being watched more than usual, it’s probably safe to talk about a new procedure. It’s really too bad you don’t have an underground tunnel joining the two buildings.”

  “True, but that isn’t likely to happen. The hotel has a basement but the club doesn’t. There’s a level of privacy one expects when one rents a hotel room. A raid into one is legally the same as a raid into a home, which is why our hotel in Chattanooga works, and it’s why we’ve been mostly safe using the hotel beside Blaze. The club here doesn’t have that kind of protection, so the city and county isn’t at as much risk of a lawsuit as they are by raiding hotel rooms.”

  I knew all this, of course, but I didn’t point it out to him. He was obviously trying to come to a point. I made a guess as to his point. “So setting up rooms at the back of Blaze would keep the foot traffic down but is a horrible idea.”

  He nodded. “Right. The other solution is to increase the foot traffic. If we get rid of the Blaze parking lot, and the club pays the hotel for a section of their lot, we’ll have a lot more people walking back and forth.”

  The idea had merit. “Why would you close the club’s parking lot?”

  “It’s off to the side, on its own lot. The club doesn’t have the manpower to open up another business right now, but once they do, another laundromat could be doable, or maybe even an expansion of Blaze. The numbers guys would have to look at the best use of that lot.”

  “If you opened a restaurant next door, with the kitchen on the Blaze side, you could repurpose the kitchen in Blaze and have someone walk the orders over from next door.”

  He turned and grinned. “See, you have the idea. It doesn’t help for right now, but it’s a nice thought for the future.” He shrugged. “I don’t have a short-term solution.”

  “I haven’t asked for monogamy from you.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “You haven’t asked it of me, either.”

  “Nope.”

  Suddenly, I missed Scout. He never makes demands. Well, other than feeding him, and letting him in and out at his whim. Still, he’s just always there for me. No demands. No expectations.

  “What do you need me to cut for the omelets?” I asked.

  “I got it. I’m just gonna do mushrooms and onions and cheese. You want anything else in yours?”

  “No. I’ll cut the ’shrooms and onions.”

  “If you can handle the bacon, I’ll do the cutting.”

  I grabbed three pounds of bacon from the fridge, the biggest frying pan, and got started on the island range. The kitchen down here kicked ass.

  “You were sad.”

  He didn’t ask it as a question — more of a statement, but I understood he wanted me to tell him why.

  “I miss Scout.”

  “He’d be miserable down here. I mean, he’d like it at first, being with you, but we can’t let him out. It might give away the fact you’re staying here.”

  “I know. I’m not saying I want to bring him here. He’s fine with Velvet. I just miss him.”

  Between the two of us, we fixed one of the best breakfasts I’ve ever eaten. Bobcat made killer omelets with just the right blend of cheeses and then he crumbled bacon over them, and with the steaks on the side — it felt like life doesn’t get any better than this.

  And then I had to consider why I felt that way, because it was more than the food. It was Bobcat. The camaraderie. Sure, we were a little awkward, but that didn’t matter. I liked having him around.

  I liked having him around so much, the fact he was returning to Chattanooga eventually was both a source of stress and a reason not to be uptight. The stress? Because I’d miss him when he was gone. On the other hand, since I knew he was leaving, I didn’t have to stress over how to get rid of him once I tired of having him around.

  Because eventually, you always tire of having them around.

  “This is nice,” I told him. “I enjoy spending time with you, even when we’ve been around each other so much. Can we try not to let the human parts of us screw this up?”

  He chewed his bite. Swallowed. Took a drink of his beer. I was having orange juice.

  Finally, he said, “It isn’t complicated with our animals, usually. It either works or it doesn’t. There are no lies because there are no words. No need for subterfuge.”

  I nodded. He was making a point so I didn’t interrupt.

  “Humans complicate things. You’re right. The truth, though, and you may not want to hear it, but the truth is that the man is going to tire of having to rape you every time we have sex. I’ll be fine with it eig
ht out of every ten times, and you riding me will work at some point, but I need you to submit. I honestly don’t know what happens if you can’t. I’m not giving you an ultimatum — I’m just lettin’ you know where I am.”

  His words were a little like a punch to the gut. Was I being selfish? Maybe. I needed to think about it. I changed the subject. “Where did you learn to cook? These omelets are incredible.”

  “Here and there. I don’t have a huge repertoire, but I’ve perfected a short list of recipes.”

  I chuckled. “Repertoire. Not a word you expect to hear from a biker, and I think maybe that’s one of things that attracts me. You’re smart. You were brought in to run a business, complete management with no one to show you the ropes, because the old general manager is dead. You’re rough. You don’t give a shit about society’s rules for the most part, and yet you use words like repertoire to describe the short catalog of recipes you’ve perfected.”

  His eyes narrowed. “And one of the reasons I like you is because you haven’t seemed to want to change me. You seem fine with the biker, despite the fact you’re an uppity lawyer.”

  “Uppity?”

  “Okay, maybe that isn’t the right word. Arrogant without being condescending. You’re good at your job. Confident. Well spoken. Well dressed. It works for you.” He sighed. “I guess my point was to not start with the condescending shit. Like I’m okay even though I’m a biker because I happen to be smart. That’s kind of like saying the rest of my brothers aren’t okay.”

  “And you’re fiercely loyal to them, so I apologize if that’s the way it came off.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Tess

  I was allowed to sit in the spa’s auxiliary control room that evening, and the first thing I noted was how much the woman who got out of my car looked like me. She wore a wig, and she copied my mannerisms. She was good.