by JF Holland
Feeling her mother’s eyes on her she smiled removing her hand from her shoulder.
“Mum, you okay?” Lana asked placing her hand over her mother’s as she took the seat beside her - Helena moving to Lara’s other side and sitting down.
“I’m fine, I’m just confused that’s all.”
“What are you confused about?” Helena asked.
“They’re not what I expected.”
“They are not Adrian and Davion - I did tell you Lara.”
“I know that, I do, it’s just…”
“Hard to let go of prejudice,” Helena offered and Lara nodded. “I know that too because I was the same.”
“You were?”
“Yes, I was wary also, but saying that you only have to be around them a short time to realise they are not the same.”
“I’m trying Helena, I am – but I need time. I’m not ready to trust them just yet.”
“I know you are trying, and they understand,” Helena told her with a kind smile.
“Ladies, drinks are ready,” Sam said, placing cups before them before taking a seat besides Helena. She released her hold on Lara’s hand and rested her head on his shoulder. Sam placed his arm around her, brushing his mouth over her hair. “You okay baby?”
“I’m good. So much happier now that I have most of my family back.”
“That’s good, I only ever want your happiness,” he said kissing her hair again before picking up his drink.
Lara watched them over her cup, confusion showing at his open show of affection and words.
Balin rushed into his room, berating his traitorous dick as he tried to tame it into his jeans. Bastard had a mind of its own and it wasn’t too bright - constantly drawing attention to itself when Lana was near - waving its happiness around without his consent.
Throwing on a t-shirt and pulling his socks on, he ran his hand through his hair to bring it into order as he slipped his feet into his trainers.
Jaden and Maya were in the kitchen when he finally got back down the stairs, Jaden grinned over at him as he sat with his arm around Maya.
Smug bastard, he thought as he moved over to grab another quick coffee.
“Are you and your brother not getting along?” he heard the husky query in his head and looked up meeting Lana’s enquiring green gaze.
“Let’s just say that my brother’s nocturnal activities are keeping me awake,” he told her as he added two heaped spoons of sugar and milk to his coffee and stirred. Putting the spoon in the sink he took a mouthful, swallowing with a sigh as he leaned against the sink watching her frown - obviously not grasping his meaning. “He’s screwing her nine ways to Sunday, and they aren’t exactly quiet about it,” he informed her, hiding a grin behind his cup as she blushed. “You’re shy?” he asked incredulously.
“No, I just wasn’t expecting you to be so brutally honest,” she replied.
“You don’t lie to a mate, so don’t ask me a question unless you want an answer,” he told her taking another swallow of his drink, savouring the caffeine hit from the aromatic nectar he cradled.
“Do their activities bother you?”
“Yes and no. I’m happy for him, he loves Maya, but as they keep me awake and I’m not getting any it bothers me,” he shrugged as she looked away from him, turning to answer something her mother asked her.
“I need to get going shortly, otherwise I’ll miss my rehearsal as the bar is open in the afternoons.”
“Have you ever ridden a bike?” Balin asked her while washing his cup and putting it on the draining board.
“A pushbike?” Lana asked turning back to him and he laughed.
“No, a motorbike.”
“Why a motorbike and not a car?” Lana asked.
“Because it’s the closest we can get to the freedom of running without risking discovery. Plus, cats don’t enjoy being enclosed inside a car, they’re like a carry box on wheels,” he added with a shudder.
“Okay, no I’ve not…”
“Is it safe?” her mother asked.
“They all have motorbikes Lara and know how to ride them – I’ve been on Sam’s a few times. She’ll be fine, Balin will keep her safe.”
“I often go out with Jaden on his,” Maya told her.
Mouth pinched, Lara looked to Balin.
“Bring her back in one piece or I’ll hunt you down.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he quipped, heading towards the door that led to the garage.
“Oh and remember your promise.”
“Engraved on my psyche,” he informed her, holding the door open for Lana to proceed him outside, so they could head to the garage next door. He kept his black Suzuki GSXR-750 there, along with Sam’s Harley Fat-Boy and Jaden’s Harley Forty-Eight. They used this garage as Maya still had her old Volkswagen Beetle Classic in the other one, a yellow Herbie car. Not that she used it often - as Jaden took her everywhere she wanted to go on his bike. If they needed to stock up on food, he’d take her on the bike and then have the shopping delivered due to his aversion of being stuck inside a car.
Chapter Nine
B alin was in hell. He’d driven Lana here on the back of his bike, her body wrapped snuggly around his own while the engine vibrated beneath them – amping up the tension. The heat of her had emanated through their clothing as her thighs cocooned his, while her evocative scent infiltrated his nostrils. She smelt of sex, sin and comfort all rolled into one and had drove both him and his cat crazy being so close and unable to touch.
Now here he sat before the stage - hard as fucking steel as he watched her contort that gorgeous flexible body of hers as she rehearsed. Shuffling in his seat, Balin tried to find a comfortable position - and a little relief - as he mumbled under his breath.
Obviously, he was being punished as he sat there trying not to stare at her or think about the different ways he’d like to take her.
“Hey my man, are you back to rehearse too?”
Balin turned, brow puckering as he stared in confusion at the tall dragon shifter behind him.
“Ronald?”
“That would be me, owner, security and compare of this little establishment. I take it you’re her mate?” he said, chin lifting towards the stage.
“Yes, although she’d not best pleased about it,” Balin admitted sheepishly. Ronald laughed and patted his shoulder, his own shaking with mirth.
“They never are my man, they never are; especially not when they witness their mate getting personal with another female.”
“Yeah,” Balin winced at the reprimand and sighed running a hand over the back of his neck in discomfort. Then his eyes slit and his mouth opened and closed without speaking.
“I can see your brain working overtime so I’ll put you out of her misery. Lana there is a good girl, she’s a hard worker and she does not encourage the patrons of the establishment. She dances because she loves to dance, it’s that simple for her. So, do yourself a favour, make it up to her, get back in her good graces – and lose the chip on your shoulder. A true mate does not cheat, there would be no point,” he shrugged. Then without another work he straightened and headed off across the club, moving behind the bar as he began to check stock.
Lana moved around the stage, practicing which steps she needed to tighten up for her routine. She’d done her stretches first to loosen up, although she’d never had a problem with strains as she’d always been supple.
Today she wore a leotard, as she wasn’t comfortable wearing so little during rehearsals, the costume bikinis were only worn for performances. Plus, she always felt different about being so out in the open with so little on during the daylight hours - no spotlight to hide behind. She tried to ignore Balin as he sat watching her from a table right before the stage. Although him being there probably put a little more swing in her hips as she twisted.
She could feel his eyes on her as she bent and stretched, her body moving sinuously to the bass pumping out of the speakers. Today she was running through a diffe
rent routine, trying to perfect the steps, twists and turns. Choreography was one of her greatest loves. She enjoyed the thrill of trying to bring the music to life - to tell the story of the of the words through movement. She’d chosen a rock song with a heavy beat that spoke of love and loss - a slightly different take on her usual choice.
She could see Balin talking to the dragon shifter who owned and ran ‘Karma,’ out of the corner of her eye. Ronald had been a rock for her, helping her out of a tight corner when she’d been scared and hiding. He’d protected her and offered her a place to stay, even offering her a room in his own home. She’d not felt right about taking him up on it, but had accepted the room at the back of the club; behind the dressing rooms. He’d even had a bed placed in there for her and with it having its own bathroom and allowing her access to the kitchen off the bar area for cooking facilities, she’d not had it bad for a couple of weeks. Although she had missed her own home and having her own things around her – especially her garden where she spent a lot of time amongst the greenery, flowers and shrubs she’d grown herself.
She watched Ronald walk away and head behind the bar, which meant Balin once again focused on her - his eyes heating as she twisted and turned before him. She thought of her home, the one she’d hopefully be able to return to once this mess was over. Maybe once the threat to them had been removed her mother would even move in with her, taking the spare room.
God, she couldn’t believe her mother was back, she’d never thought to see her again.
The flames were crackling, the house full of smoke. Her head hurt, her shoulder ached and her throat felt raw as she coughed tying to take a full breath.
“Lana, let it go, it’s over,” came Balin’s concerned rumble in her head, pushing the memories away. She looked up as she bent forward, twisting to the side. Her arm raised to grab the pole as their eyes connected and she broke away from the memory, although the screams of her mother echoed in her head and the acrid scent of the smoke was still fresh in her nostrils. She could see concern showing in his eyes, but also the heat as he watched her hungrily. Dropping her lashes, she bent backwards, her left leg hooking the pole before she swung herself up and around it.
“Do you like what you see cat boy?” she whispered huskily inside his head as she dropped backwards, her breast lifting as her hair fell, sweeping the stage.
“Hmm, maybe,” Balin mumbled back telepathically, shuffling in his seat.
“Liar, your conscience is showing,” Lana smirked as she pushed up again and stood. Letting go of the pole she turned, eyes lowering and mouth kicking up as she eyed the bulge pushing against his zipper.
“You are such a tease,” Balin grumbled, hand lowering to his groin as he tried to rearrange himself and get comfortable.
“You have no idea,” Lana grinned mischievously as she held a finger out to him and motioned him over.
“What are you doing?” Balin hissed, as he stood, helpless to not do her bidding.
“I want to replace the memories with something else, help me,” she purred in his head making the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rise also.
“I made a promise to your mother Lana,” he groaned aloud grinding his teeth as his feet took him a step close.
“Then I’ll find someone who will help me,” she shrugged, turning her back and sauntering into the dressing room.
“Like hell you will,” Balin growled as he took the stage in a leap and took off after her.
What the hell, he’d been good, had kept his distance and given her time to get use to the idea of their pairing. He’d also kept his bloody promise to her mother and kept his hands to himself – and how does she reward him for his patience? She threatens him with going to find someone else to do what he’s desperate to do himself. Well not on his watch. “You are mine and no one touches what is mine,” he ground out as he caught up, grabbing her arm as she sashayed past the dressing area.
“Then make the memories go away,” she hissed, turning and jumping into his arms.
Balin caught Lana as she jumped and wrapped her legs around him. He held her to him, hands gripping her waist so she didn’t fall as he kept moving. She pressed open mouth kisses along his neck as her fingers ran through his hair; scraping his scalp. Groaning as she bit down on his shoulder, then hissing and nearly tripping as her tongue lapped at the sting. Quickening his pace, he made his way past the dressing area and into the backroom where Lana had been using the living space until recently.
Dropping a knee to the bed, he lowered her, coming down on top of her, her legs still wrapped around him. The bed moving beneath their weight, bounced her up, pushing her against him and he hissed as she tightened her thighs, rubbing over him.
“Someone might see,” he said trying to pull back, but she linked her hands behind his neck staying him.
“No one’s here apart from Ronald and he never comes back here as it’s where the dancers change.”
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Balin asked her croakily, clearing his throat as he pulled back slightly to watch her face.
“You hopefully. Now quit stalling and get stripping,” Lana whispered tugging herself up, using her arms around his neck as leverage as she bit his earlobe.
Balin gave in, he was fighting a losing battle. Yes, he’d promised her mother, but I mean, come on, he wasn’t made of stone.
“Stop thinking and get naked,” Lana purred. Then pushing him upwards she ran her hands under his t-shirt - tracing the indentation of muscle in his stomach before moving up to his chest. She ran her fingertips and nails over his pectorals, her mouth following as she whispered in his mind.
“Balin please, I need to quieten the memories, help me.”
Shrugging out of his jacket, Balin pulled his t-shirt over his head and threw both items onto the armchair placed bedside the bed. Pushing her back down, he took her mouth, lips locking, tongues twining as he ate from her. Every breath she exhaled he swallowed, drawing deep into his lungs before giving her back his own. Fanning the flames, feeding her lust with gentle, teasing nips, and deep drugging kisses
He couldn’t get enough, wanted to absorb her into himself, imprint her on his soul so she became a part of him, never one without the other. He’d dreamed of this for years and now finally he had his mate, a true partner, his own woman to keep and pleasure for hours. The only woman he’d ever fantasised over was finally here, with him, beneath him. Her soft, full lips giving and clinging, as her curvaceous body cushioned his own harder one. After all these lonely years, he now had someone he didn’t have to hide his true nature from - someone whom he wouldn’t hurt if he let go and allowed himself to get lost in the moment. Whether he was rough - or sweet and languid - she’d not only take it from him, but would relish his possession and in turn give it back.
With a hand keeping his weight off her, he used his other hand to hold her behind her neck to position her head where he wanted. Deepening the kiss, he thrust his tongue into her mouth, stroking the interior, tasting, becoming addicted to her. He rubbed his rock-solid aching flesh against her sex, trying to get relief. Then hissed as she gripped him tighter with her legs, grinding back as she held herself suspended, riding him through their clothing.
“Off, I need this off,” he mumbled against her mouth as his lips left hers, trailing down her chin and onto her neck, sucking and nibbling a path between her breast. Pushing himself up he fumbled, trying to get her top off, frustration evident when he couldn’t find an opening and an annoyed rumble left his chest.
“It’s a leotard, I just step into it, no fastening,” Lana told him, gasping as he extended a nail and ripped straight down the front. Impatiently, he pushed the material to one side and latched onto a distended nipple, biting and sucking the turgid flesh. Then pulling back he blew on the now darkened glistening tip – watching as it strained towards him like a flower opening to the sun. Rumbling his pleasure, he again lowered his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh, before sucking i
t back into the warm, wet interior of his mouth. Suckling strongly, then easing up and teasing the areola with licks before transferring to the other side - all the while rolling and pinching its twin between his index finger and thumb.
His other hand ran over her ribs as he fed from her breasts - drawing circles on the rippling flesh that danced to this touch. Moving lower, he dipped a finger into her naval as he released her nipple with a pop - his mouth lowering and following the trail of his hand. Playing her body like a fine-tuned piano as he pinched, licked and sucked her responsive flesh, tracing over the swirling script on her ribs with the tip of his tongue. Lana’s moans and sighs a reward for how well he played her body – a conductor orchestrating a symphony as he made her writhe - her hands tangling in his hair for purchase.
Balin reached the apex of her thighs and once again tugged at the material keeping him from the prize he sought. Roughly, he tore it out of his way - the efforts of his masterpiece now revealed - bare folds hiding the secrets to her desires. Parting them with his thumbs, he found her glistening, plum and inviting. Unable to resist the banquet on offer he dove straight in, ravenous, licking and sucking on her tender flesh. As he stabbed deep with his tongue her hips lifted to ride out the pleasure, but he stopped, instead taking the bead of nerves which peeked from its hood between his teeth and bit down. She tried to move away, tugging on his hair, but Balin chucked as he easily held her still and once again stabbed deep, collecting the nectar her body freely offered.
“Are you ready for me Lana,” he rumbled. The sound blowing his heated breath over her now sensitised flesh - the vibration of the octave tickling and making her shudder.
“Yes, now, in me now,” she groaned fisting his hair and trying to pull him up and over her.
Disentangling her hands, he pushed up, toeing off his shoes and socks before shuffling backwards to stand and remove his jeans. He’d no sooner opened and released himself, his jeans caught on his hips when she shot up, grabbed one of his hands and pulled him back down. She rolled him beneath her and slid over him, straddling his pelvis. Balin grinned at the move as he pulled her down and onto him, pushing his hips up and impaling her. Lana threw her head back on a moan, her hands resting on his chest for balance as she began to ride him.