Nightshift

by Kate Douglas

  “I know.” She sighed and dropped her arms. This was definitely not how she’d planned for the night to go. And standing around to listen to more of his brother’s sexual antics wouldn’t get things back on track. Spinning on her heel, she started down the path toward her small bungalow. He’d follow her. He was far too tenacious not to.

  His boots crunched on the gravel as he fell into step beside her. Years of working together and decades of being friends made the silence between them companionable. Or as companionable as it could be when the fox inside her reared its animalistic head to demand she touch and take. Her breathing sped, drawing that intoxicating male scent into her lungs. Her skin prickled with the body heat he gave off. She wanted more. She’d wanted more since she was barely old enough to be interested in boys, but the three years between their ages had been insurmountable then. That, and the fact that her father wouldn’t have stood for her consorting with a prince. He was out of her league, and no one had ever let her forget it. But for one night, she’d break the rules. She had to see what it was like. Just this once.

  The warm glow of her porch light came into view, and Max followed her up to the wide veranda. Before she reached the door, he wrapped his long fingers around her bicep and pulled her around to face him. He waved his free hand between them, his expression uncharacteristically earnest. “All bullshit aside, Kira, you can talk to me about this. We’re friends and I’m here if you need me.”

  “I do need you.” The words were out of her mouth before she could call them back. She watched his golden eyes widen with startled confusion, but it was too late now. Some relentless tension that had wound tighter and tighter for years snapped within her.

  Finally.

  She reached out, planted her hands on his chest, and shoved. He stumbled back until he sprawled in a big wicker chair on her porch. She came down on top of him, straddling his thighs. Stiffening beneath her, his mouth fell open in utter shock. She flashed a grin, shoved her fingers in his silky hair, and hauled his face up until there was only a hairsbreadth distance between their lips. “You have no idea how much I need you, Max. You. Not Elan. Never Elan. Try to keep up, okay?”

  Then she kissed him.

  Finally, finally. Oh, Lord. Finally.

  He groaned, his hands clamping down on her hips. She wasn’t sure if it was to hold her close or to keep her from moving closer, but she didn’t care. Sliding her tongue between his lips, she let the flavor of him fill her mouth. God, he tasted good. A helpless moan wrenched up from inside her. So long. She’d waited so long to touch him, taste him. Her fingers splayed over his muscular chest, slipping down until she could circle one of his nipples through his shirt. It tightened for her, and she hummed in appreciation against his lips.

  A choking sound came from him. He jerked her forward until her sex came into full, hot contact with his. A few layers of cloth separated her from exactly what she wanted. She whimpered at the steely length of him pressing against her. Her hips bucked, and she twisted to get even nearer. His tongue shoved into her mouth and his claws shredded her skirt.

  Time seemed to leap forward so fast it left her mind spinning, and the only thing to hold on to was Max. His claws scraped up the outside of her thighs, almost painful, but not quite. Goose bumps exploded over her skin, and her nipples hardened with the intensity of her arousal. Her tongue dueled with his, their movements rough, nipping at each other’s lips with their fangs, each struggling for control of the kiss.

  He made quick work of her panties, slicing through the silk before flicking her clit with the tip of one deadly talon. She bit his lower lip hard, her body jolting in response. Her pussy drenched in a hot rush, her hips driving forward in a carnal rhythm that was as natural as breathing. His claws retracted and his long fingers glided between her slick lips to tease her entrance.

  But he didn’t penetrate her. He just coaxed more moisture out of her until she snarled against his lips. The tension within her twisted tighter, pushing her past bearing. Her pussy fisted on nothing, once, twice. Pulling his bottom lip between her teeth, she nipped his flesh with her fangs. Shivers raced through her, and her skin felt aflame. Even his almost gentle touch was enough to have her teetering on the edge. She could feel orgasm shimmering just beyond her grasp.

  She broke the kiss and threw her head back. He used the opportunity to suck her nipple into his hot mouth, biting her through her clothing. Her hands fisted in his hair, holding him closer. “Max! Max, I need ...”

  This? His telepathic voice was an intimate, throaty rasp. His thumb flicked over her clit, his other fingers shoved deep inside her.

  It was more than enough to send her screaming over the edge. Her body froze, every muscle inside her clenching tight, and then her hips jerked frantically as wave after wave of climax exploded through her.

  He released her nipple and leaned back in the chair to watch her ride out her orgasm on his thrusting fingers. The cool sea breeze on her wet flesh made her shiver. A small smile tilted up the corners of his kiss-swollen mouth. Last shudders rippled through her body before she slumped against him, gasping for breath.

  Lust flushed his face, drew the flesh taut across his sharp cheekbones. “I want you.”

  She dropped her forehead to his, stroking her fingers down his biceps. There was no way she was stopping. She had to know what it was like. “Yes. Hurry.”

  Something hot and feral flashed in his gaze at her words. His fangs bared when he smiled. She grinned back, grabbed the bottom of his shirt, and wrenched it out of the waistband of his pants. He lifted his arms to allow her to yank the garment over his head. Then her hands were on his naked chest.

  A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he let her touch him all she wanted. Claws scoring into the arms of the chair, his grip went white-knuckled as she petted his flesh. He choked when she pinched his small, brown nipples. His golden gaze burned into her while he panted. A quick burst of power filled her, and her heart hammered as renewed passion ratcheted up inside her.

  She skimmed her fingertips down the sculpted planes of his torso. Well-defined pecs led to the ridges of his abs. His stomach sucked in when she circled his navel, and a chuckle burst out of him.

  “Ticklish? Really?” Devilish delight filled her and she wiggled her fingers threateningly just over his skin.

  He snorted. “Really. Quit teasing, Kira. I’m dying here. I need you.”

  Those words from his mouth made her insides seize in shock. Her breath caught and she swallowed hard. Something sweet bloomed in her chest, and she crushed it, locked it tight into the deepest corner of her soul. No. This was physical need, nothing more. She didn’t want more. He was way out of her league.

  Letting the air out of her lungs, she reached for his belt. Jerking the leather from the buckle, she opened it and his fly in rapid succession. She was taking this insanity for a spin before it wore off and reality returned. It would sooner or later.

  He shoved his hips up to meet her touch when she reached into his pants. He groaned, his chest bellowing with each rough breath. Please, Kira.

  The soft skin over his hard shaft was irresistible. She stroked her fingers down the underside of his cock, pulling him free of his pants. Wrapping her hand around his dick, she pumped him fast and leaned forward to suck his earlobe into her mouth.

  The sounds he made in response to her touch sent wetness pulsing into her sex. His big body jolted when she bit down on his ear, and a snarl ripped loose from his throat. She could all but hear the last tethers on his control snapping.

  He let go of the chair and grabbed her hips, yanking her forward until their sexes aligned. She pushed down as he shoved upward, and they both groaned as he filled her to the limit.

  Oh, God. If she hadn’t been so damp, it might have hurt. He was so large. She clamped her hands on his shoulders, her pussy flexing around his cock as she worked to accommodate his girth. He rocked himself against her, and the angle was perfect.

  Rolling her hips with each movement
he made, she increased her pleasure. His rich scent was all she could smell, his bare skin on hers was all she could feel, his low groans and the creak of the chair beneath them were all she could hear. Everything within her focused on this moment. With him.

  His palm pressed to the middle of her back, arching her until he could suck on her nipple again. The fabric of her clothes frustrated her, but not enough to stop in order to get rid of the offending garments. Her hips rose and fell, her pussy stretched by his long cock. This was what she wanted, what she needed. Everything else was irrelevant.

  Sinking his teeth into her soft flesh made her cry out in stunned ecstasy. Their movements became less fluid, more frantic. The drive to orgasm took over and they thrust and ground their bodies together in that one unstoppable urge.

  Kira, I—

  Anything he said was lost in the implosion that rocked her body. Her walls clenched tight on his cock, milking the length of him as she came harder than she ever had in her life. The intensity of it shook her, and every thrust of his dick inside her sent her spinning into oblivion once more. When it was over, her mind was blank and her body limp. She collapsed against his chest, and he cradled her close, the tenderness as shattering as everything else they’d done together that night.

  A sense of unreality flooded her and she closed her eyes tight. Oh, God. It had been so good. Everything she’d ever fantasized about and more.

  What the hell had she done?

  2

  What the hell had he done?

  It had been so good. Everything he’d ever fantasized about and more.

  Thank God the wedding had gone off without a hitch, and Kira was in charge of security, because Max couldn’t get his head in the game to save his life, let alone anyone else’s. It was perhaps the only time he’d been grateful that his position as the king’s brother took him away from his duties in the King’s Guard.

  Guests swirled around him, laughing and dancing. A small orchestra played, and he offered a reflexive smile to a passing diplomat. She was attractive, a woman he would normally have pursued for an evening of pleasure, but tonight he didn’t give her a second glance. His gaze was drawn like a magnet to Kira. He swallowed hard. He’d imagined being with her for so long, but he’d never dreamed it would actually happen. Until last night, he’d thought Kira wanted Elan, not him. Not Max.

  Sure, he’d flirted, he’d fantasized. Kira was beautiful, intelligent, and dangerous. Irresistible temptation. But he’d thought he was the only one tempted. They’d known each other their entire lives, and their relationship was as much rivalry as friendship. Even as children, he’d loved to make her react. He’d tug on her pigtails and she’d kick his shins.

  It was Elan she got along with, Elan she’d come back to the island for. Not Max.

  And last night had shattered everything he thought he knew about them. It scared him more than anything had in years. Not since the last woman he’d—

  No. He slammed the door on that memory. Even the thought of comparing Kira to—

  Stop. He shut down all emotion the way he had to any time he worked, buried it deep where it couldn’t touch him. If sickness pooled in his belly, curdling into something painful enough to bring him to his knees, he ignored it.

  He dragged in a deep breath, his heightened wolf senses filtering through the explosion of scents in the room. Humans, Between, perfume, sweat, sex, food, flowers. Taking it all in, he let his gaze rove the crowd, looking for problems. That was what he did, what he was. His job.

  You’re not on duty, little brother. Try to relax. Elan’s hand clapped down on his shoulder, his mental voice holding only the mildest of rebukes.

  I’m always on duty.

  This is Kira’s job tonight.

  He knew, and it wasn’t that he didn’t trust her and his handpicked people to do their jobs, but the extra risk of these kinds of events made him antsy that he couldn’t be the one running things. Usually. When he could focus for more than two seconds on something other than the mind-blowing lay he’d had the night before. He shrugged his brother’s hand away and shook his head. You hate these kinds of shindigs, too.

  It’s my wedding. I’m making an exception.

  Congratulations, Elan. You deserve every good thing that comes your way. And I’m not just saying that to practice for the toast later.

  Shut up, Max! Elan’s laughter rippled over the crowd, and bone-deep contentment radiated from the older man. Max refused to acknowledge the stab of envy that ripped through him. Elan and Rhiannon deserved their happiness—they’d had a rough road getting to it. Max had had his chance at that kind of happiness a long time before, and he’d blown it. There were no second shots for people who’d screwed up as badly as he had.

  Still, his gaze went automatically to Kira, his hand tightening on the champagne flute in his hand.

  She was beautiful. That was all he could think as he watched her move around the room with that controlled efficiency of hers.

  Just looking at her turned him on.

  Kira moved closer to his new sister-in-law, leaning in to hear what Rhiannon had to say. After a moment, both women burst into laughter. Most people’s gazes would have been drawn to Rhiannon, with her brilliant red-gold hair and rippling, infectious giggle, but Max couldn’t take his eyes off Kira. She was like contained fire, her bright eyes dancing in amusement, her dark auburn hair catching the light overhead when her head tilted back in a throaty chuckle.

  He smiled and didn’t look away even when Elan nudged his arm to get his attention. His brother’s gaze followed his and he snorted. “They make quite the picture, don’t they?”

  “Yeah, they really do.” Max took a deep draw of the expensive champagne.

  “You should do something about that yen you have for her, little brother.”

  For once in his life, Max remained silent.

  Elan waited a long beat, then shook his head. “Come on. I want to ask my wife to dance.”

  “You don’t need me for that.” The protest was more pro forma than anything else, because Max followed along obediently enough. Of course. He hadn’t spoken to Kira since that morning, when they’d woken up in her bed together. A new threat against the queen had come in and last-minute wedding details had sucked them both into their duties. He’d been at a run most of the day. It hadn’t stopped him from thinking about how Kira looked tousled from sleep, lips swollen from his kisses. He swallowed a curse as his cock reacted to the crystal-clear memory.

  “I’m more than ready to escape for the honeymoon, but you just can’t pry Rhiannon away from a party.” Elan maneuvered them through the crowd with the skill of a practiced politician.

  “A few more hours, some royal ceremonial fun, and you’ll be free.” Max pitched his voice low, knowing the crowd would drown out his voice even from the sensitive ears of a Between. “Then the sexfest can begin.”

  Max and Kira would also be along for the sexfest, serving as security for the royal couple. Isolated in a cabin for two weeks with a woman who’d gone up in flames in his arms. That thought made his cock harden to the point of pain. He was usually more than ready to get out after a one-night stand, but it was Kira. She was his friend, his colleague. Someone he respected. Someone who was already under his skin, which was somewhere he never let his lovers get. He’d learned that lesson the hard way.

  Shit.

  This was a complete disaster. What had he been thinking? What was she going to expect from him? With most women, he wouldn’t even have to wonder. With Kira, he didn’t have a clue. Like him, she wasn’t one to have long-lasting relationships, which was his only consolation. He hated the gut-grinding sensation that accompanied the thought that she was just using him for sex. That should have been the perfect solution. They’d had an itch to scratch; it was scratched. End of story.

  For the first time in damn near forever, that wasn’t enough. He wanted more. Just a little. He could handle that, couldn’t he? It wasn’t as if he could take back the night be
fore, so what could a few more nights hurt?

  He rolled his eyes at the justifications. He was in such deep shit.

  All he could do now was damage control.

  Elan whisked Rhiannon away for a waltz, leaving Max gawping at Kira in silence. The first thing that blurted out of his mouth made him wince. “This ends when the honeymoon is over.”

  “Fine.” Her chin lifted, her eyes flashing dangerously. “Everyone knows you’re the love ’em and leave ’em type, Delacourt. Did you really think I assumed it’d be different for me?”

  He tried to reel his tongue back in and clean up the usual mess his mouth made. “I just ... I wouldn’t ...”

  “Your Highness,” she said coolly, using the princely title he hated. His hackles rose, but before he could reply, she flapped her hand to encompass the royal military uniform he wore. “You couldn’t pay me to live in your pomp and ceremony world. I’ll take the servants’ entrance over the red carpet any day.”

  Well, it was good to see that some things never changed. He was still pulling her pigtails and she was still kicking his shins.

  “Jesus, Max.” Rhiannon peered out of the French doors off Elan’s office suite. A small army of men and women readied several helicopters for flight. “Is it really necessary to bring everyone in the Guard on the honeymoon?”

  “Yes.” The answer shot from both Kira’s and Max’s mouths at the same time. Max glanced over and met her eyes, knowing she was thinking about the recent threats against his brother’s and sister-in-law’s lives.

  “I already lost this argument.” Elan’s lips twitched in a wry smile, and he forked his fingers through his mane of gold hair. The disheveled locks made him look the part of the lion-shifter. The only lion-shifter among all the Between people, which was why he was king.

  Max could only be thankful he wasn’t the lion. He’d never craved that kind of power, much to his father’s disappointment. If his father had had his way, Max would have been as invested in politics as he had always been, as Elan had always been. That wasn’t Max and it never would be—it had taken finding a place for himself in the Marines, a place he finally flourished, to figure that out. Kira had once mocked him that the only things he took seriously were security and sex ... and maybe just security.