She lowered her head, her gaze avoiding mine.
“Winifred, look at me.” My tone was more biting than I wanted, but she complied. I rolled my hips again and her little gasp had my cock twitching for more of her sweet sounds.
“Where did you think you were going?”
The top of her cheeks and ears burned bright red. She bit her lip.
“Winifred.”
“I don’t want to … hurt you.” She sniffed, and I could see the sheen of tears.
“Trust me, Winifred. You can’t. Finish what you started.”
The only reasoning I could come up with as to why she would think she could hurt me was her weight. If she was concerned about that, I needed to reassure her that there was nothing wrong with her. She was a gorgeous female who should be proud of her body. I certainly was.
A defiant look brightened her eyes. She lifted herself, gripping my cock between her soft fingers. She aligned our bodies, and achingly slow she slid her body onto mine. Her eyelids fluttered, and my tiger growled with satisfaction.
I thrust upward when at times she moved too slowly. She curved over me, her erect nipples brushing my skin. It made me want to move harder, faster, bring her the release I knew she desired. But, more than that, her hair fell to one side of her neck. The other lay bare for me.
How I wanted her flesh between my teeth. How I wanted to bite down and truly claim what was mine. My mouth watered at the idea. Winifred’s sweet flesh was centimeters away when I regained control of my animal and his hasty movements. She didn’t know what it would mean, and I didn’t want to scare her. Not now. If she ran away from me, she would be putting herself into more danger, and I wouldn’t allow it.
She screamed in pleasure, her walls clamped tightly around me as she came, and I chided myself for coming so close to losing control. I would have marked her as mine without her permission. My tiger couldn’t be trusted with her. I needed to get rid of the threat against her and continue our courtship. I couldn’t be hasty in my decision.
My tiger responded with a loud roar in protest in my mind.
He wasn’t logical; he was driven by instincts. I had a lot on the line.
And yet …
Winifred came out of the shower now, her hair wet, skin pink from the hot spray and with a contented smile. “You promised me a fight.”
Her words caught me off guard.
“You were going to make me smile, start up a fight.”
“I am not going to fight you over nothing, Winifred.”
“Sure you will.”
“I will not.”
“You are.” She laughed. The sound seeped into my skin like a soothing balm. There was something magical about the way her eyes lit up, and her shoulders shook with giggles long after she stopped vocalizing her laughter. Such a lovely creature.
“I need to head back to the city soon, Winifred.”
Her lips tightened, her nostrils flaring once. She went from happy to angry in seconds. Was she scared to be alone in a strange place?
“How long are you leaving me here?”
“For however long it takes.”
“You’re going to maroon me?” She pulled on her pants, her hair curtaining her face.
“I’m not marooning you. I’m trying to protect you,” I snapped.
Winifred grabbed her shirt and stomped into the bathroom. A muted noise sounded from the back of her throat in disgust and she slammed the door. I heard her quiet sobs and padded over to the bathroom door. Her fear wafted out.
“Winifred …”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
She opened the door a crack. Her eyes were puffy and a little red. I pushed the door open and cupped her cheek, the silky skin smooth against my rough palm. She was too soft for me. Too delicate. I didn’t deserve such a mate.
“Tell me.”
“I’m scared. Terrified.” The sight of tears typically sent me running in the opposite direction, but instead I pulled her close. She fit seamlessly in the circle of my arms, and I held on tight.
I waited for her to go on. She would speak when she was ready to, and I didn’t want to push her. She shook. I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing on keeping my tiger back. He gutted me, trying to get to her to soothe her, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t understand what I was doing was the best for her. She sniffled, rubbing her forehead on my pecs.
“This is all so new. We were moving so fast before. Everything coming at me at once. I just had to roll with the punches, but it started to settle in this morning. With you gone, I won’t have anyone to ask questions about my animal. Or what it means to be a shifter. Or …”
Her breathing turned short and sporadic. Winifred started to hiccup, trying to get more air in. I rubbed my hand over her back while the other arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her close. Her broken sobs slowed, her shoulders loosened in my hold. She let out a long breath.
“This is so very overwhelming, and now you are going to go hunt men for me. And you are calling me your mate. And last night—and this morning—was mind-blowing. I don’t think I have ever had better sex in my entire life. It was like … wow.” Winifred took a step back and stared hard at the wall behind me while talking about our night together.
My tiger rumbled when she mentioned that I was the best she ever had. Partly from pride, but mostly anger at the thought of her being with others.
I was no saint, but it didn’t stop my animal from thinking of all the other men who had touched her—and wanting to rip their heads from their shoulders. I took a deep, calming breath, letting it go. She wasn’t with those men anymore, and she was mine.
“We have some time before I leave. Ask your questions.” I grabbed her hand and brought it to my mouth, inhaling her sweet scent of caramel and salt. My lips caressed the skin, her pupils dilated, and for a second I thought I saw her animal shining through before it disappeared again. A split second her animal awakened. I hoped it would wait for me to return to fully emerge so she wouldn’t have to go through her first shift alone.
The desire to stay here with her was strong, but then I thought of the men that had come to her apartment. I thought of the man Lucas had put in the ground for me because I was taking care of her. No. First, I would kill the men who dared to think of taking my mate and selling her, thereupon I would come back to her. She was safe out here. No one knew about this place. She is safe.
I led her to the kitchen and settled her at the table before whipping up breakfast. I wasn’t much of a cook. My parents hadn’t taught me basic life skills like cooking, laundry, things of the mundane. We had people for that. Another reason I had chosen this career—it paid for the lifestyle I was accustomed to. But, Winifred … I wanted to cook for her. I wanted to take care of her.
She watched me stumble around the kitchen assembling food. Winifred’s chair scraped against the wood as she stood up. She grabbed my hands, directing them to the eggs, and instructed me through breaking an egg. Soon we worked together to make scrambled eggs.
While we cooked, we remained silent. Our bodies spoke for us. She would brush against my arm when reaching over me, mischief in her eyes. I would return a long reach from behind, the length of my body pressing against her back. She shivered with delight as I pressed feather-light kisses to her neck.
Winifred stirred the eggs. She glanced up and grinned, humming and dancing to a song that didn’t exist. Her body moved in tight twists and shakes, taunting me.
I stepped forward holding her hips and nipping at the back of her neck. She leaned backward, her curvy backside grinding against my groin, where evidence of my readiness awaited her. Her desire flooded my nose, making my dick twitch. She rubbed herself against me, causing my mind to go hazy.
My lips dragged over the back of her neck. She sighed, leaning heavily backward. I bit her, not enough to break the skin, over the top vertebrae. She let out a desperate moan, clutching the counter to hold herself up.
I pulled i
n her scent. Intermingled was a smoky, distasteful odor.
Chapter 11
Winifred
“The eggs!” I pulled from Quentin’s delightful strokes. The man had way too much control over my body. With a simple touch, I became starved for more. There was no controlling my absolute desire to keep going, to return to the bedroom and let him do so much more. When his teeth scraped my skin, it was a tease. I wanted so much more, but didn’t understand why. I had never liked the idea of such rough play in the bedroom before. But for him to bite me? A warmth filled me from head to toe just thinking about it.
The eggs had burnt to a crisp and couldn’t be saved. We decided to make batter for pancakes. It was sweet that he had tried to make breakfast for me, but he had no idea what he was doing in the kitchen. It was endearing to watch him try though.
When I whisked the batter, some of it splashed onto his expensive shirt. Quentin growled, just a manly sort of sound, but it spiked something inside me. I wanted to hear it again.
I flicked the whisk so more batter flew at him. Stifling a smile, I turned back to what I had been doing. “Winifred.”
“Hmm …”
“You did that on purpose.”
I fluttered my lashes at him. “Who, me? I would never.”
“Winifred.”
“Quentin.” I placed my hand on my hip. I had mocked his tone. His head dipped down a little, his lips pressed tight.
I still held of bowl pancake batter. When his lip lifted in a mock snarl, I threw the batter in his face with a small “Eep.”
His back straightened, batter dripping from his hair. He blinked. I swallowed hard.
My feet took off while my brain still tried to catch up.
“Winifred,” he roared.
Laughter bubbled from my gut, and I had made it outside and halfway around the house before I heard his feet crashing on the ground behind me. I quickly ran out of breath between my laughter and my running. And he continued to chase.
An urge to keep going, to make him catch me was too much to ignore. We had arrived at night and the darkness had shadowed the beautiful scenery around us. The trees grew high up into the sky, the ground green and covered in plant life.
I slipped around the house, pressing my back against the cabin trying to catch my breath. Peeking around the corner, I jumped.
Quentin stood there with drying pancake batter in his hair and on his face like wet freckles. He breathed hard and I couldn’t tell what he had been thinking. Gathering my courage, I moved forward.
I wiped away one of his pancake-freckles and brought the finger to my mouth. His eyes never left mine, but his hands fisted tightly and his nostrils flared. My stomach bottomed out in an excited, wonderful way. My hands shook a little with the adrenaline pouring into my body.
My mate had caught me.
Why did that excite me so much?
I didn’t care why. But what was he going to do now?
Moving too fast for me to follow, Quentin hoisted me over his shoulder. I huffed and slapped his butt to try to get him to let me down, but he responded with a slap of his own. My muscles clenched as desire flooded me. Well, that was new.
Quentin took me to the bathroom and undressed me. Next he turned the water on and undressed himself. I had ruined his shirt with my playfulness and I regretted my decision. It was obvious that clothes were important to him. I pressed my hand over his heart and I looked up at him.
“I’m sorry.”
He cocked his head a little. “About what?”
“Ruining your shirt.”
“Don’t be. It’s just a shirt.”
Once Quentin freed himself from his clothes, he helped me step over the lip of the bath and followed me in. He positioned me under the warm spray and pulled out a washcloth and soap.
“Do you mind if I wash you?”
That did funny things to my heart. My stomach tightened. I nodded. He was unbelievably gentle as he brought the soapy washcloth over my body. His arousal was apparent, but he did nothing about it, just focused on cleaning every inch of my oversensitive skin. Once he finished with me, I did my best to switch us around. He had to help and I followed his lead. Watching the pancake batter run off his hair made my lips twitch again. I had wanted to be playful with him. He hadn’t seemed to hate the idea of chasing me, not with his actions once he caught me. He always seemed too uptight. I wanted to loosen him up a bit.
Roaming my hands over his wet body excited me all over again. This was different. For once, I could take care of him. I made sure to pay close attention to his face, wiping away every last pancake-batter freckle. Once we finished rinsing, he helped me out of the shower. I had never been so openly naked with a man before. I had always been worried if they saw too much they would run. He did the opposite.
Quentin patted me dry, and I returned the favor. We dressed each other without saying anything. His hand brushed against my breast, and I bit back a moan. My stomach grazed his alert member. I wore my tight, black jeans and an old rock band T-shirt. He dressed in well-made, fitted jeans, and another crisp white button-up. Covering up his body should be a crime.
The shirt pulled tight over his broad shoulders and curved over his toned biceps. My hands followed the line of his collarbone to his shoulders and down his arms. He let me touch, never moving. I peeked back up at him.
My head swam with questions. A big part of me, one that felt like it wanted to take over, wanted him to claim me. I didn’t understand what it meant, but I wanted to be his. Really be his. A distant call in the back of my head agreed. My animal. Wherever she hid in my mind wanted it, too.
“I still have a lot of questions.”
“We will have time when I get back. I’d rather answer them now, but I have to eliminate the threat against you. Can you feel your animal at all?” Quentin asked.
“In a sense.”
“I can feel my tiger, ruling me, demanding me to avenge you. To ensure your safety. I can’t rest until I do. You will understand when she comes out.” He trailed his finger from the base of my ear to the edge of my jaw. My stomach flipped, my eyelids becoming heavy.
“I promise we will finish this when I return, Winifred.”
A few minutes later I heard the front door shut and the lock click behind him. Icy fear crawled up my spine. I tried to shake the feeling, but it persisted. I think I was in greater danger here without him than in the city.
Chapter 12
Quentin
The ride back to the city was depressingly silent. I kept looking over to the passenger seat. I had missed her terrible sing-alongs with the radio. I scoffed at the idea. Me, miss something? It was laughable. The things I desired had always been superficial. It was what I knew. Now I missed something no amount of money could buy.
Checking the rearview mirror for the tenth time since pulling away, as if I could see the cabin I left behind, and I shook my head. I wasn’t some desperate male who pined after the idea of finding their mate. I had been planning on mating a woman of breed. And now I found myself becoming attached to a latent, without even knowing her animal. I shook my head.
I had a job to do.
This wasn’t just a revenge mission. These shifters couldn’t be allowed to steal our own kind and sell them. It went against the laws we had in place. It was the worst sort of betrayal. I had done some bad things in my life, despicable things, but I would never sell one of our own as a prize. There were too many different ways we could be used. For sport, for a zoo, for slaves. No, that was a line that should never be crossed.
It took more than a couple of hours to get back into the city, and when I did arrive, I took the scenic route back to my penthouse. I had no idea the status of the investigation or whether these men knew who they were dealing with yet. I had been on radio silence since going out to the cabin with Winifred. We couldn’t risk being tracked by any electronic devices. It also meant I wouldn’t be able to contact Winifred.
I arrived at my penthouse and grabbed
my phone. The place was undisturbed, but then again I hadn’t thought it would be. The building provided excellent security, and my door had a dead bolt. Along with a regular lock, I had a security pad and a camera set up on the outside.
The others had called me paranoid. Anyone who knew about us would never come after our stuff, but I refused to believe we were untouchable. The three of us had made a name for ourselves as a team. As a package deal, we had been very expensive. Not many people had the money to spend on all of us, but when we teamed up, there was very little we couldn’t accomplish.
I had met Dominic years before when the idiot had gotten himself into a position he couldn’t escape. At the time, I had been taking simple, business mercenary jobs. I would go into a business and destroy it from the inside out. That routine had been considerably less bloody than alternatives and kept the buyers’ hands pretty clean. Most of the times they could sweep in and pick up the scraps left over when the business fell, which meant they could grow their business even more.
Dominic had been hired to assassinate a top ranking business CEO. He had been my target as well, a rare hit contract for me, but I moved too slowly for my contractor so he hired Dominic as well. Dominic had been trapped inside the building and lost control over his shift. I helped him out of the building without asking any questions. He told me he owed me one for saving his ass, but he wasn’t too happy about it.
I called on him a year later when I was working another case, this time with the help of Lucas. Lucas did a mixture of mercenary jobs: assassinations, kidnappings, business corruptions. He and Dominic hit it off straightaway. They fought like an old married couple, and I think for the first time in Dominic’s life, he actually had a friend. That job had gone sour and a rivalry business had called in their own reinforcements. That day we three mercenaries lived up to our name. We fought for the right price, but backed out when the price went too steep.
I grabbed my phone and searched my contacts. I didn’t have many, so I tapped Lucas’s alias. It rang about four times before I hung up and tried his other number. That one rang twice before he finally answered.
Hired: Mercenary Shifters (Mercenaries for Hire Book 2) Page 6