by Layla Nash
"Oh my God, don't talk to me." Maybe I would never stop blushing. I might never be able to look them in the face.
Atticus's lumpy, swollen expression darkened. "Is the car ready?"
"Yeah." Edgar sounded almost normal, though his voice wobbled as he went on. "We brought the SUV. Plenty of room in the back seat. You know. In case you need to — stretch out."
"I hate you both," Atticus muttered as his brothers started to giggle — a ludicrous sound to come from grown damn men and lions to boot. He dragged me against his side and limped out of the room, and I hid my face against his shoulder.
Whistles and applause and a few catcalls greeted us in the crowded hall, most members of the Council and their packs lining up to tease Atticus and congratulate me. Apparently when Logan and Edgar retrieved the buckets, they made it clear why they needed cold water. I wanted to sink right through the floor but Atticus leaned on me more than anyone could see — if I fell, he would fall. And I couldn't let him suffer that embarrassment.
He growled and snarled at people to shut up and leave me alone, and threatened them with dire consequences if they looked at me sideways. It was a bold move, to threaten the men and women who held his life in their hands only minutes before. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and helped me into the SUV, waiting until I was safely inside before crawling in after me.
He sat rigidly until the door closed, and then he collapsed back. Carter, in the driver's seat, looked back with a worried look. "You okay, Att?"
"Just drive." Sweat broke out on his forehead and Atticus groaned. He fell sideways on the bench seat until his head rested in my lap, and I stroked his cheeks. His face relaxed and he reached up to touch my arm, his eyes still closed. His lips moved but nothing came out.
I bent closer, murmuring, "Say it again, baby."
"I'm so proud of you," he said.
My forehead bumped against his and I struggled to keep from crying. Stupid, happy tears threatened, but I didn't want to drown him. Once the floodgates opened, I might never stop. Maybe Edgar was right and the adrenaline played havoc with everything. Or maybe I was just really, really happy.
I pressed my lips to his. "I'm proud of you, too."
He smiled, then his face relaxed and he slept. But a purr rumbled in his chest, and the leopard was happy to match.
Twenty-three
He sat bolt upright and groaned. Everything hurt. Scars pulled across his chest as Atticus moved, and he patted himself down. The wolfsbane had faded, since everything scarred over, but the deep bruises across his torso remained. Atticus looked around the dim room before his attention settled on Sophia, curled tight to his side. She stirred, palm stroking across his stomach. "What's wrong?"
Atticus grimaced as he lay back. "Everything hurts."
Sophia blinked, looking all kinds of sleepy with her hair sticking up in odd chunks as she yawned and patted his arm. "Roll over."
He complied. He wouldn't admit it to her, but the pain didn't wake him. The nightmare of being unable to shift woke him. Feeling his lion's presence but unable to change his form to free the beast sent shivers through him that even Sophia's warmth couldn't dismiss.
Of course, her ass balanced on his as she straddled him and pressed the heels of her hands into his shoulders went a long way to distracting him. Her knees dug in near his hips and he groaned again as his cock hardened. Her hips rocked on his ass and he reached back to squeeze her thigh. He didn't give a shit about the massage.
The whisper of fabric almost distracted him from the heat radiating from her center, but then her magic fingers returned to working his neck and shoulders and he exhaled. A purr rattled to life in his chest. She laughed and leaned low over his back, the warm, giving flesh of her bare breasts pressing against him. "You like that?"
He grunted, unable to form a coherent thought with her scent tangling around his brain and the soft skin of her thighs trapping his. Sophia ran her fingers into his hair, apparently content to sprawl across his back, and tested her teeth against his shoulder. "I'm sure a man in your condition should save his strength. Since you haven't rested enough to teach me a lesson, hm?"
Atticus rolled her under him, grabbing her hips. She lay back, a hint of a smile teasing him as she braced her hands on his chest. He grumbled and dipped his head to tease her nipples with his tongue. She moaned, thighs falling open, and he settled closer into the cradle of her hips. To think he'd almost lost her.
He slid down her body, kissing and nipping down to her stomach. Sophia sighed and moved her hips in a sensual roll, inviting him in, and Atticus dipped his finger into her slick folds. He eased the moisture up to circle the hard pearl at the top of her slit, and she went rigid. Atticus breathed against her skin and she jumped, thrashing on the sheets as he continued his slow torment. She tasted amazing, like life itself, and her scent intoxicated him.
His fingers gripped her butt and lifted her so he could lick the full length of her sex. Sophia panted and arched her back, and called out his name.
Atticus smiled and rubbed his stubbled jaw against her thigh until she twitched, legs closing around him. She gripped his hair to draw him closer but he only tasted her again, taking her clit in his teeth to bite very gently before he drew it between his lips. She came off the bed with a howl, spasms rippling through her, and Atticus held her hips to the bed with one hand as he plunged two fingers into her wet warmth. Her body convulsed as he continued sucking on her raised nub, curving his fingers to tap against the magic spot until she cried out and thrashed again.
He backed off as she came down from the climax, panting with her arms and legs akimbo — open and available for his plundering. Atticus smiled as he crawled up her body, dragging himself against her skin until he smelled like her and she smelled like him and sweat coated them both. He nuzzled behind her ear. "Ready?"
She nodded. Wrapped her legs around his waist and lifted herself to meet him. Atticus sank into her with a groan, the tight grip of her body so intense he nearly exploded after a single stroke. Sophia arched and her breasts crushed against his chest. He held her close, his arm sliding around her back to keep her right where he wanted as he moved faster.
Sophia moaned and linked her arms around his neck, fingers desperate and tugging at his hair. "Atticus."
He loved the way she said his name, all breathy and needy and wanton. He grumbled and tightened his grip on her shoulder as he pushed up to get better leverage. He grabbed her knee to draw her leg up and out, letting him shove deeper into her body until she gasped and froze and her muscles contracted around him. Atticus gritted his teeth and pushed through, kept up a driving rhythm until the slap of their flesh and his rough panting filled the room. Sophia's head tossed on the pillow and her nails left long rents in his back as she begged him, cursed him, said she loved him. He found a better angle and drove into her over and over again, merciless until she went rigid and her pussy clamped down on him. Atticus kissed her quickly, panted, "Look at me," and stared into her beautiful, amazing, blue-gold eyes as she convulsed and pushed him over the edge.
He cursed, seizing on top of her as his hips jerked and he poured himself into her. Sophia trembled as he slowed, still thrusting and grinding down at her, and she set her teeth against his shoulder. Atticus slammed his hips to hers as she bit, and every last ounce of his climax poured out of him. He cursed and bit her shoulder, right near the neck, and was rewarded with a howl of lust. Atticus chuckled, licking the bite, then fell to his side as the pain of the past day caught up with him.
Sophia lay boneless next to him, an arm across her eyes, and Atticus watched her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. He could watch her for hours. The soft rise and fall of her breasts was almost enough to stir him, but at least one of the cuts on his back tested the scar too much. He leaned to kiss her deeply, until their tongues tangled and her fingers twined in his hair, but retreated too soon. "I'll teach you a lesson in another hour, babe. I need to rest."
She smiled
, already dozing, and patted his stomach. "Sure you will."
He laughed and drew her into the curve of his body. The urge to sleep nearly overwhelmed him as he inhaled from her hair. "I have all the time in the world to put you in your place, sadistic leopard."
"Storm over mountains," she murmured, not even bothering to open her eyes.
"What?"
"Storm over mountains," she said. "That was what the first shifu called me. Said I fought like a storm coming over the mountains — one minute the sky was clear, and the next minute, you're dead." She yawned. "Silly lion, chasing a storm."
"Bet your ass." He pulled her closer and half-under him so he could sprawl across her and know she was safe. He lay on his stomach and slapped her hip just to make sure she took him seriously. "Which I will get to in an hour or less. So brace yourself."
Sophia opened her eyes and for a moment the leopard stared at him, then the gold faded back to pale hazel and she chuckled. A purr started in her chest and vibrated through her, electrifying as his lion noticed and matched the rumble. Sophia bit her lower lip as she looked up at him. "Promise?"
He groaned as his cock immediately hardened and pressed against her hip, and Sophia laughed. Atticus sighed and pinned her down, nudging her thighs apart with his knee so he could move over her once more. "All right, girl. I told you not to tease the lion."
She caught his face in her hands and kissed him hungrily. She took his earlobe in her teeth and drew on it until Atticus growled, his grip rougher as he flipped her on her stomach. Sophia sighed and murmured, arching her back to push her ass back at him, and said, "Like I said, we need to work on your stamina."
"Ding ding," was all he could manage in answer, and she laughed.
As much as he loved the musical sound of her laugh, he loved the moans and sighs she made more. Atticus set about discovering every last breathy little pleased noise she could make. They had a lot of catching up to do.
Epilogue
Three days passed before Atticus let me out of his room, and then only because Natalia banged on the door and demanded proof of life. Apparently he took the promise to mark me very seriously. I came more in those three days than I had in my entire life. From the way Atticus watched me, we would have stayed in his bed another couple of weeks if he could have managed it. I didn't mind at all.
But I still had to work on control, so I went back to meditating and doing yoga with Carter. After the first couple of times when I crawled out of bed at six and Atticus tried to wheedle me back, he got up and went with me. Atticus wouldn't admit it, but the meditation helped him as well. A general calm settled over him, and the lion peered out at me less and less. Even Carter noticed a difference when he offered gentle suggestions to his youngest brother. Atticus listened.
The first time we walked to breakfast from yoga and Atticus heaved a sigh and said, "It feels so damn peaceful," I cried. Peaceful. Exactly what I wanted for his lion and my leopard.
He just kissed me and wiped the tears away, laughing at me as he asked what the problem was. I couldn't explain, not really, and so Atticus did what he did best — threw me over his shoulder, carried me back to his room, and made love to me until a different kind of peace grounded us.
That was a full week ago, and now Logan finally felt comfortable letting me out of the house and into the city.
I smoothed my hands over the borrowed skirt, nervous I looked like an imposter in the expensive clothes. Atticus caught my hand and squeezed it as he led the way into an office building downtown, all glass and chrome, and took the elevator up a long damn way. The leopard wasn't sure she liked it, but when we grew restless, Atticus grumbled and pressed me up against the wall of the elevator and kissed me until every other thought fled.
So I was a little dazed as we stepped into the private investigator's office. Atticus greeted the receptionist and handed her a business card with something extra scribbled on it. "Edgar sent us to see Mr. Smith."
She smiled and said, "He's expecting you," as she led the way through a long hallway to one of the back offices.
I frowned as I peered into some of the other offices; all were occupied by people who looked like lawyers and bankers and corporate wonks, not investigators. Atticus tugged on my hand as I slowed and winked as he pulled me against his side. In the back office, a tall man rose from behind his desk to shake Atticus's hand. "Mr. Chase. Very nice to meet you."
"Mr. Smith. Thank you for seeing us. This is my friend, Sophia."
The older man smiled, briefly shaking my fingers with his, and gestured at the chairs in front of his desk. "Please." And then he waited, watching me with a bemused head-tilt.
The chair creaked under Atticus's weight. "Sophia is looking for her family. She's run into a dead-end and there doesn't seem to be a logical place to turn next. So we need some additional help."
"There are very few dead-ends in this world," Smith said to me, then uncapped a pen and made a few notes on a pad of paper. "I don't make promises, Ms. Sophia, but I am generally an optimist about these things. Let's start at the beginning."
And then they both watched me. So I cleared my throat and opened the accordion file of paperwork I'd amassed over the last several years. "I don't remember anything before twelve or thirteen. My first memory is at this orphanage."
I handed the pieces of paper across the desk for him to examine, make notes, and ask follow up questions, and as I talked, a weight lifted off my heart. It was my story, sure, and I'd talked about it with investigators before, but never so clearly in the light of day. Never to someone who looked so... competent. It felt almost more like a job interview.
And Atticus, next to me, just listened. When I choked up, he held my hand and gave me a handkerchief, but I plowed on through the entire file. The investigator frowned in thought as he studied the tattered birth certificate. "You've been very thorough, Ms. Sophia, which is commendable. But there are certainly some gaps where I think we can make progress. There's one important question, though."
I braced myself.
His white eyebrows arched over crystal blue eyes, the pupil oddly elongated, and he leaned back in his chair. "Do you really want to know the truth, Sophia? Are you prepared to really hear that your parents dropped you off or abandoned you or never wanted you? Are you prepared to hear the absolute worst situation?"
I hesitated, attention glued to the mess of papers spread across his desk. My entire life, or what I'd been able to construct of it, fit in a single accordion file. But the leopard yawned and stretched and didn't seem terribly concerned. We already had a family. Whatever he told us was in the past. So I cleared my throat as I gripped the arms of the chair. "Yes. I am."
"Okay." He made another note on his paper, then eyed me shrewdly. "You're a lion as well, or another type of feline?"
I froze, jaw slack, and looked at Atticus. He nodded. "It's okay," he said and I flushed.
"Snow leopard," I said.
Smith blinked. "Very unique. That will help." He made a few more notes, then nodded and rose from behind his desk. "I'll get started and call you in a week with the updates."
Atticus shook his hand. "Thank you."
As Smith shook my hand, he squeezed very gently, as if wanting to be careful of me. "For what it's worth, Ms. Sophia, in my entire career of tracking people down, I've only had one case where shifter parents voluntarily gave up their child. I am hopeful we will find good news."
"Thank you," I managed to whisper, holding on to my composure with my fingernails.
I couldn't have said how I made it out of the building or into the car for all the money in the world. It seemed like I blinked and then we were back in the sedan, driving through the city. Atticus held my hand as he drove, and I watched the streets flash by. Maybe I would get answers. I didn't need them anymore. I had a family, and like Eloise said, the one I found and made was more important than the one I'd left. All I needed in the world was Atticus.
The next day I was back at work, though someon
e stayed with me through each class. Eloise lasted fifteen minutes into an hour-long cardio kickboxing class, then she sat in the corner and gave me dirty looks for the rest of the afternoon. Atticus joined me for the self-defense classes. I nearly cried as my students burst into tears to welcome me back, exclaiming about how concerned they'd been, and I wondered if I had more in common with them than I thought. By the third night, everyone grew accustomed to giant Atticus being the guinea pig, though the first night he got some raised eyebrows.
He waited good-naturedly, his hands around my throat, as I explained a combination to break the grip and get away. I looked at him and nodded. "Okay, babe."
His grip tightened but not too much, and I stomped on his instep, landed a punch in his side, and grabbed his hand to free my throat. He sighed and stood back, rubbing where I'd hit him, and I patted his shoulder. A few women asked questions and then paired up to practice. Atticus checked his phone, then leaned over to kiss my cheek. "The investigator found something. Can we meet him after class?"
"Of course." My heart seized up and I couldn't breathe. He found something.
Atticus grumbled and his arm slid around my stomach as I turned away, and he drew me back to hold against his chest. His chin rested on the top of my head as he rubbed my back. "It's okay. Good or bad, we'll be fine."
I closed my eyes briefly and squeezed him back, then pulled free of the hug. I froze as I caught the entire class watching, grinning, and I laughed. "Okay, so I take it we're done. Have a good night. I'll see you guys on Friday."
They teased me and even poked fun at Atticus, but I couldn't muster the good humor to hang around too long. I pulled on a jacket so we could go straight to the investigator's office, which was only a few blocks from the gym. Atticus held my hand as we walked.