by A. C. Arthur
“I don’t scent anything or anyone.” It was an admission, one she wasn’t sure why she’d made. She’d come back to DC to take control of her life, but lately she’d been doing and saying a lot of things she wasn’t quite sure of.
“Why is that?”
The interior of the truck had developed a chill, and Caprise shivered. She hated being cold; it made her feel isolated, alone, vulnerable, as she had been all those years ago in the Gungi. In her mind there was a slight debate on whether or not she should answer him, then finally she figured what the hell. “Because I’m a human.”
She saw him hit a button on his dashboard and watched as a garage door opened. He drove inside and she was treated to a bright-ass light bouncing off stark white walls. There were six parking spots, each one of them already filled with a car or truck. One was even occupied by a motorcycle. At any rate there weren’t any available spots. No matter, X put the truck in park and hit another button.
Caprise jolted slightly as the truck began a downward descent. They were sinking into the floor. She looked around curiously as they were lowered into a darker space. When they were once again on level ground he drove the truck another few feet then parked in a corner near a wall with an elevator and a door. She wondered which one they’d be using.
When X got out he took his sweet time coming back to open her door. The minute he did, she jumped out, taking in big gulps of air.
“I don’t like confinement,” she told him.
He shrugged. “Most cats don’t.”
It was instinct to reply, “I’m not a cat.”
“You are what you are, Caprise. Words won’t change that.”
He didn’t even look at her as he slapped his palm against the elevator button.
“I’m a human,” she said when they stepped into the elevator.
“And a jaguar.”
She was about to open her mouth to argue but figured it was futile to argue with X. He wasn’t the type to yell at a female but he did step in front of her, grabbing her by the back of her head. He was quick, his lips taking hers swiftly, his tongue stroking hers with a heat that licked and relit the fire inside her. Hungrily he kissed her, his teeth nipping her lips, tongue rubbing greedily over those spots. She would have tried to pull away but there was no mistaking the fierce grip he had on her head. Besides, the duel was enticing. She pulled his bottom lip into her mouth, sucked on it wantonly, and was rewarded by his other hand moving to grab her ass.
Caprise took a step, backing him to the wall this time and pressing her body against his. If X wanted to play the sex game he was going to have to learn that she was a top-notch opponent.
Chapter 6
Every bit of lust that had been pent up inside her since she’d returned to DC came pouring out of Caprise tonight. She felt almost desperate for more the moment he touched her. It would have been demoralizing if she thought for one second X was interested in anything more than sex from her. But this was it and it was basic. Basic was safe. Safe, Caprise could definitely handle.
The elevator stopped. In the distance she heard a dinging sound, and the door opened. X grabbed her by the wrists and all but pulled her down the hall. Arousal punctuated his every step, from the way he moved his legs to accommodate the erection she’d felt pressed heavily against his thigh, to the deep rise and fall of his breathing as he tried to keep a lock on things until they were behind closed doors.
Caprise could not deny the characteristics of her own arousal. For instance, she knew for a fact her nipples were hard enough they might actually cut through the fabric of the shirt she wore. She wasn’t even going to think about how instantly her juices had begun to flow upon that succulent elevator kiss—but walking down this hallway so quickly produced a cool breeze that was heaven to the heat between her legs.
He had a keycard to open the door, which she thought was kind of strange since this was clearly an apartment or condo building, not a hotel. Then again, it was even more out of the ordinary to pull into a garage then sink through the floor to another hidden garage.
X was an FBI agent, so who knew what type of gadgets he had. Still, it made her feel like what they were doing or where they were going was some incognito spy nonsense.
X entered the apartment first, then pulled her in behind him. It was dark, but Caprise could see him just fine. She even saw the frown that marred his face when his cell phone rang.
“Is that your girlfriend? Should I leave?” she asked in a teasing tone.
He did not have a girlfriend—at least that’s what Ary had told her. She’d acted as if that was the last bit of information she’d wanted to receive, but truth be told there’d been a small pinch of relief when her sister-in-law had made the announcement.
There was no answer from him, just a frown; then he was clicking off his phone. He reached up an arm and touched an almost imperceptible pad on the wall behind him. The room became illuminated.
Caprise turned around instantly, curiosity overriding her questions about his phone call. This was his home. She didn’t know exactly how she knew this, just had a feeling—a feeling that was weirdly reaching out to her. Walking away from him slowly, her feet slapped against glossy hardwood floors. The walls all around her were white, sickening white like a hospital or insane asylum. There was a sofa, a love seat, a coffee table, a flat-screen television on the center wall above a fireplace that looked as if it had never been lit, and four framed pictures on the wall. That was it.
She shivered involuntarily but resisted folding her arms over her chest. That was her protective stance but here, standing in the center of X’s living room, Caprise doubted she needed protection. The brooding shifter across the room from her would protect her from any harm. He’d feel obligated to, considering it was technically his job. It was useless, however, since Caprise was perfectly capable of protecting herself. She’d been doing so for years. As far as protecting herself from him went, Caprise knew exactly what she was doing.
“You live alone with hardly any furnishings. It’s cold in here.” She was making simple statements, acknowledging the facts as she saw them. X looked at her as if she were giving him the time of day and he’d already checked his watch. “I don’t like the cold.”
“Then I’ll keep you warm,” he replied immediately coming to stand in front of her.
“What if I say no this time?” she asked, wondering what he was thinking. He looked closed off, as if his body was here but his thoughts might actually be someplace else.
“Then you’ll sleep on the couch and continue to be cold.”
He didn’t shrug, but the implication that he didn’t care either way was ripe in the air. So was something else in the air, she thought.
Caprise moved away from X again, exploring his personal space with him not so much as uttering a word. Through an archway was his dining area, a long rectangular space with floor-to-ceiling windows making up one side, more white walls on the other. There was a table about six feet long, marble-topped with thick legs and six chairs to match. There was nothing else.
She peeped into the kitchen and almost smiled at the repetition of design. White walls, stainless-steel appliances, dark granite countertops that matched the dining room table, on the floor large slate-gray tiles instead of glossed wood. His bedroom—that’s what had been reaching out to her, she figured, as there was still a tugging in her gut.
He wasn’t behind her when she turned, which was only a minor surprise. Usually a good host gave a new guest a tour of his home, or at the very least followed the guest while they made her own impromptu tour. X did neither. Caprise was not shocked.
There were two bedrooms, one she knew instinctively was not his because the door was wide open. Inside there was exercise equipment and another large flat-screen television. In one corner was a U-shaped desk with two desktop computers; one laptop was closed on the end of the desk. The bathroom was huge, decorated in the same slate tile from the kitchen, its shower in the center of the room in a circular shape with
glass doors and an overhead showerhead. All around was the color gray: towels, walls, the tub, the toilet, like some higher being had deemed this place a perpetually cloudy day.
In the hall once again she touched a hand to the closed door, knowing this was his personal space. A whiff of dominance assailed her and she looked to the left, where X stood at the end of the hallway, hands fisted at his sides, legs spread partially, chest and head held high. He was daring her and giving her permission all at the same time. She didn’t falter, but opened the door and stepped inside.
Here the monotony of the decor was broken. His bed was huge. Then again, it would have to be to accommodate him comfortably. Four thick posters held up the king-size mattresses to a bed that had to be at least a couple of feet off the floor. It looked as heavy as his truck, she thought as she moved closer. There was a huge armoire in the corner closest to the door. All the furniture in here appeared heavy and ornate, like something out of a time warp. It was dark cherrywood and had intricate designs carved inside. The floor was bare and so were the walls, but in this room, amazingly, Caprise was not cold.
“As you can see there’s space for two,” he said in a gruff tone from his spot in the doorway.
She’d known he was there, had felt his presence close, overshadowing.
“Do two often sleep here?” She was asking about the girlfriend thing again and berated herself for it. She already knew the answer, or at least she thought she did. Furthermore, it didn’t really matter. Or it shouldn’t matter.
“No female has been here before” was his answer just before there was a knock at the door.
It was a low knock, she knew, but she heard it and so did X.
“Get comfortable,” he told her before leaving her alone.
“Yes sir,” she mocked him when he was gone.
Touching one of the bedposts, she thought with a bit of smugness, No female has been here before. Why did that please her?
Caprise was not into fairy tales. She didn’t want any type of happily ever after, with any man or shifter. Not anymore. That was the trouble with first relationships, they had a tendency to leave everlasting scars. She resisted the urge to touch the physical scar left over from said relationship, letting her mind ripple over the mental ones before shaking her head clear of it all.
She climbed onto the bed and was sitting in its center with her legs crossed when X returned.
* * *
Innocent, that’s how she looked sitting on his big bed, with her slim frame and wild hair hanging past her shoulders. The shirt she wore was huge and hung on her like a curtain. Long luxurious legs were folded together and tucked neatly. Yeah, she looked like a high school kid instead of the alluring stripper he now knew her to be.
“Seth brought your things from the club,” he said, putting her purse and the bag with her clothes and shoes in it near one of the dressers on the opposite side of the room.
“He sucks as a guard, you know,” she told him when she’d scrambled off the bed to grab her purse. “You shouldn’t have been allowed to get near that stage or me, for that matter.”
“I’m his supervisor,” he told her. He moved to his dresser, taking his cell phone from his pocket and putting it along with his keys on the surface. “And you should have stayed at Havenway.”
X had thought the same thing about Seth earlier, but after seeing the shifter already near his vehicle he realized Seth had known he was there all along. And maybe the shifter was doing just as he’d said: giving them space. Although X had no idea why Seth would think that was necessary.
“I can go back now if you’d let me out of this gray cell you’ve created for yourself.”
He turned to her then. “You think my house is a cell?”
She was reading something on her phone, her brow furrowed, and for an instant, just a quick second, X scented her fear. In the next moment it was gone; she’d squared her shoulders, put the phone on the dresser closest to her, and flipped her hair over one shoulder.
“You’re kidding, right?” She shook her head. “No, you don’t kid, nor do you laugh. Okay, yes, this is a cell. It’s cold and impersonal and clearly designed to keep people out.”
X frowned, hated that her assessment sounded damn close to the truth. “And you were named psychotherapist when?”
She shrugged. “Just an observation. So look, I’m tired. I need a shower, then I plan to sleep. How long do you plan to hold me captive this time?”
He hadn’t held her captive before. Sure, he’d locked her into a room at Rome’s house, but that was for her own safety. X could say that keeping her here tonight was for the same reason. Rogues had been to Athena’s before. X knew this for a fact, because Sabar’s savior drug was being sold there. Diamond, the stripper he’d met a few weeks ago and who’d subsequently been killed, had worked at Athena’s. She’d recognized the drug with the mysterious symbol on its package. Yet tonight, of all nights, they’d come straight to Caprise’s dressing room. Why?
That was a good enough reason to keep her here, in his house, in his bed. But if he were totally honest he’d admit that this was where he’d wanted her for quite some time. Fate had just played into his hand. Since she’d been back Caprise had become his one weakness. Sure, he’d denied that fact for the first few weeks of her return, but X wasn’t in the habit of hiding from the truth. He wasn’t in the habit of hiding at all. In fact, he hated like hell that he couldn’t go back to Athena’s and kick some Rogue ass. But for tonight he’d have to leave that to the guards.
“Take your shower then you can sleep in here.”
“You don’t like to answer questions, do you?” she said with a tilt to her head as if she were actually studying him.
He folded his arms over his chest, not trying to avoid the hardening of his dick at the sight of her long bare legs and nipples poking through the cotton of that shirt. However, he was definitely trying to keep her busy little mind off him. Because it was one thing to want Caprise in his bed, another to want her in his life. Especially that part of his life he didn’t even want to claim himself.
“You ask too many,” he snapped.
Her gaze dropped, rested on his crotch, and X felt an extra burst of arousal. She was tempting him, daring him to cross that room and fuck her again. And he could do it. He wanted desperately to do it. But he didn’t.
“Get your shower and get some sleep.”
When he was walking past her to leave the room she stopped him.
“You don’t scare me, Xavier. Your big badass routine doesn’t scare me,” she told him.
As thoughts of what he wanted to do to her played like a movie trailer in his head, X could only sigh. “It should.”
Chapter 7
I KNOW WHAT YOU DID AND I KNOW WHERE YOU ARE. SEE YOU SOON.
X frowned as he read the text message that had just come through on Caprise’s phone. Because it was his nature, he picked up his own cell and punched in the number the text came from. He also emailed it to himself with a note to do a trace first thing in the morning.
The sound of water still running in the shower gave him an extra few minutes. And while X knew it was probably one of the biggest breaches a man could inflict on a woman, he looked through her purse. Among the variety of female things she also had a small handgun and a tube of Mace. As if she knew she needed to protect herself. But from whom? The person who was sending her this text, most likely.
Suddenly he wanted to know who this person was, what he or she was to Caprise, and what she’d done that they knew about. And X wanted to know right now. Putting down both phones, he left the bedroom and entered the bathroom. She hadn’t shut the door all the way, part of her I’m-not-afraid-of-you stance, he figured. So X pushed his way inside.
Through the lightly steamed glass he could see her silhouette. His body tightened. She lathered the soap in her hands then rubbed those hands up and down her arms. Her long nimble fingers scraped up her neck. She held her head back and let her hands cross her
shoulders. When they came down to cover her breasts, X’s breath hitched. She was gorgeous, there was no other accurate way to describe her—even though that seemed kind of cliché.
He took a step closer, his fingers moving quickly to undo his pants. Cursing because his boots were still on, X bent quickly to untie them and kick them off. When he stood again she was facing him, her luminescent eyes staring at him through the glass. Slowly he pulled his shirt over his head, pushed his pants down, and stepped out of them.
She stepped under the showerhead then and let the water sluice over her body, rinsing the soap suds away. Knowledge that he was watching her was alive in her gaze, the fact only making X hunger more. Every inch of his body was taut with need, his dick jutting outward as if it were reaching specifically for her.
When she switched off the water X reached for the door handle. He opened it and she stepped out, coming to stand so close her nipples brushed over his chest, his dick slapping against her stomach. His hands went immediately to her neck, his thumbs rubbing along the line of her jaw.
“You’re such a tease,” he whispered.
She touched a still-wet finger to his bottom lip, rubbing along its contoured edge. “And you can’t resist me” was her soft retort.
Her body was a wanton sex machine, just humming with desire. If he put his hands between her legs at this very moment he’d bet everything he owned that her plump folds would be wet and waiting for him. He could lay her on this floor right now and fuck her brains out and she wouldn’t do a thing to stop him.
Yet her eyes, even alight with her feline heritage, said something just a little contradictory. She was studying him, watching everything he did, hearing every word he said with extra-sensitive ears, dissecting this entire situation with a formula only she was familiar with. What did she want from him? Was this all she expected? He hoped so, because it was all he had to give. Questions assailed him as her finger traced his top lip. He extended his tongue to lick the pad of her finger, and she smiled.