by Tami Lund
Yet she had butterflies in her stomach in anticipation of seeing him again. She knew she shouldn’t be so excited. Besides the reason she was doing it, getting involved with a man she likened to the mafia was a bad idea. If The Prick was half as scary as he implied, then Josh had to be as well. How else could he stay in control when someone like The Prick wanted his position? The man had said he’d killed people, more than a dozen times. She was inclined to believe him. Did that mean Josh had killed, too?
She didn’t want to know.
Taking a deep breath, Rachel pressed a hand to her quivering abdomen and walked toward the hotel’s front entrance. She had never entered through this door before, not even when she'd interviewed for the housekeeper position. The building was located on one of the main streets in downtown Detroit, perfectly situated between the convention centers and the sports arenas, with national corporations filling all the space in between. It stayed busy seven days a week, which was exactly what a hotel ownership group wanted.
The structure, with its smooth, stone exterior and huge, arched windows, held a place of honor on the National Registry of Historic Places. Colorful flowers poured from pots lining the entrance. A valet and a doorman stood at the ready, and both gave her appreciative looks as they scrambled to grab the door so she could walk inside.
It was a Tuesday, and since she worked weekends at the hotel, she didn’t recognize most of the employees she came across as she made her way through the opulent crystal-draped lobby. That was good, because she did not need any of them connecting her to their general manager. Not that she really expected anyone to notice her. She tended to keep to herself, and for the most part, her co-workers were content to ignore her.
She had considered calling instead of paying a visit in person. It would have been easier. But it would have been easier for him to blow her off, too, and her healthy fear of The Prick had been enough justification to don the pretty sage green dress, fix her hair, and burn her lunch hour to show up and hopefully not give Josh a choice but to see her again.
She stepped up to the mahogany counter separating her from the front desk clerk, who eyed her as if she didn’t belong. If she only knew.
“May I speak to Josh Tigre, please?”
The dark-haired lady behind the counter affected a surprised look, probably because Rachel had asked for the general manager by name. “Do you have an appointment?”
She spared half a moment to consider lying, and then shook her head. “If you tell him Rachel is here, I think he’ll see me.” I hope.
The surprised look shifted to disdain. “Rachel, you say?”
She nodded. The clerk’s gaze swept over her person and she pursed her lips. Rachel suspected she was trying to figure out how to turn down her request, but then she finally nodded once, said, “Just a moment,” and disappeared through a door that Rachel knew led to the administrative offices. She clutched at the counter and blew out a breath, trying to pull her nerves under control. She should have come after work—when she could have had a quick cocktail first—but she had no idea how late he stayed at the office, so she’d chosen to come during her lunch break instead. Now she waited nervously to see if her ploy would pay off.
*
“Excuse me?” Josh said when Amber from the front desk popped into his office and announced he had a visitor waiting in the lobby.
“She said her name was Rachel. That you would see her. Oh, and she’s human.” Amber said the word with such disdain she might have been talking about a particularly nasty bug.
Rachel.
“Human? Does she have red hair?” Is she gorgeous? With long legs and a fresh-faced look that belies the sexy vixen underneath?
She had never been far from his thoughts since he’d left her apartment and returned back to his life as a pack master. No less than a hundred times a day, he considered jumping into his vehicle and heading to her apartment to try to talk her into letting him share her bed again. Just one more night. Or two. Or, hell, how about indefinitely?
But he’d stayed away. He’d taken Matt’s advice, had thrown himself into his role as pack master, had chosen his pack over his damn libido.
And now she was here—he was certain it was her. Who else would show up at his hotel and state he would see her just by providing her name? The woman had more confidence than he did, that’s for sure. No contact for over a week, and she showed up and fully expected him to see her.
And he sure as hell would. He wanted to. Needed to.
“Yes,” Amber said with a contemptuous sniff.
Josh was out of his chair, walking around the desk, and had his hand on the doorjamb before he caught himself. Taking a deep breath and hoping his eyes weren’t glowing, he stepped to the side and nodded at the front desk clerk.
“Would you mind escorting her back here to my office, please?” Greeting her in the lobby, in front of the prying eyes of the desk clerks and the doorman, not to mention the cameras positioned everywhere, was not a good idea. What if he lost control and grabbed her and kissed her? Shifter packs were notorious rumormongers. It was bad enough he had instructed Amber to bring her to his office. But he had to see her. If she’d made the effort to come to the hotel and ask for him...
He attempted to convince himself that something was wrong, and that’s why she had sought him out. But he was lying to himself. He wanted her to have come because she wanted to see him again. Because he sure as hell wanted to see her.
The question was in Amber’s eyes as she left his office, and it was still there when she returned with the gorgeous redhead trailing in her wake, but Josh couldn’t be bothered to try to appease her. All he saw was Rachel. That fiery red hair, a gentle wave draped over her shoulder. Her heart-shaped face, the shiny pink gloss on her lips. Her thin neck, the expanse of lightly tanned skin above the V-neck of her pale green dress. The teasing bit of cleavage exposed by that neckline. The beautiful long legs beyond the hemline that fell to just above her knees. He clenched his hands and dismissed Amber, instructing her to close the door behind her.
As soon as she left, he strode across the room and invaded Rachel’s space, pressing her against the wall next to the door and rubbing himself against her like a damn cat.
“Tell me this is why you’re here,” he demanded as he dipped his head and nipped at her neck.
She laughed, sounding a little breathless, and wrapped her arms around his waist. “And here, I thought you might not see me.”
“I want to see you. All of you. I don’t suppose you’re into quickies in an office setting?”
He stroked down her side to her hip and then smoothed his hand up to cup her breast. She arched into his touch. He felt as though his world had been off-balance for the past week, and suddenly it was righting itself. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recognized this was not good, not safe, not the way a pack master should think. But hot damn, he couldn’t give a fuck. Not with Rachel’s body melded to his, her reactions matching his in their intensity. She wanted him, just like he wanted her, and that was all that mattered at the moment.
She laughed again. Her laugh was so damn hot. Everything about her was hot.
“I’m on my lunch break, so I don’t have much time, but...”
He cupped her face and kissed her, hard, demanding, his lips slanting over hers, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, insisting she let him have what he wanted. She raised her arms and clutched at his hair, matching him, every desperate move for every desperate move. He might very well have taken her right then and there, had his phone not vibrated.
He pulled away just enough to slip the phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. It was a text message from Matt.
I can see you.
“Shit.” He stepped away and glanced at the giant picture window behind his desk. Matt leaned against a marble column in the courtyard, arms and ankles crossed, a smirk on his face.
Rachel laughed again, a nervous sound, as she smoothed the front of her dress and licked
her lips. “Oops.”
“Yeah, you can say that again. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, uh...”
“That’s a shame, because I thoroughly enjoyed it. Although I wouldn’t mind doing it in a more private setting.”
He could swear his body was singing, a rousing cheer. Yes!
“I could come by your place after work tonight.”
“I like that idea. I could cook dinner.”
“Or I could bring takeout.”
With another throaty laugh, she said, “Even better.”
Why the hell wasn’t she a shifter? Christ, the woman was perfect. Everything about her was perfect. Except her DNA.
He typed a text into his phone and then shoved it into his pocket. “Matt’s going to escort you out, if that’s okay. I—ah—have a meeting I need to prepare for.” It was a lie, and he could tell she didn’t buy it, but she nodded anyway. “I’ll be there by six,” he promised, just before a knock on the door indicated Matt had gotten and obeyed his text.
He wanted to touch her again, but he resisted. It was easier knowing he would see her in a few short hours. He pulled open the door and Matt stepped into the office.
“Matt Tigre, Rachel, er...”
“Whitaker,” she supplied, and she offered her hand to shake. Matt grinned like the womanizing bastard he was and accepted her handshake, holding her hand long enough that Josh felt obligated to grab his arm and squeeze, hard. Matt released her and shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks.
“Pleasure to meet you, Rachel.” His gaze cut to Josh and then shifted back to Rachel. “Really. It is.”
The slight furrowing of her brow told Josh she knew there was more to Matt’s words than he was letting on. Smart and sexy, all in one gorgeous, delectable package. He couldn’t wait to get to her place later that evening.
“Matt, will you see Rachel out, please? Without giving her your number in the process?”
Rachel giggled and clapped a hand over her mouth, while Matt rolled his eyes. “You know you and I have different tastes, boss.”
Josh wanted to cringe at his snide use of the word boss, the reminder of his role in life, but he kept the look on his face passive. “Thanks for coming by, Rachel. I’ll see you later.”
“Definitely,” she replied, and he watched her swinging ass until Matt guided her out the door and around the corner, toward the lobby. Then he sagged into his chair and forced himself not to follow them. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Matt; it was that he wanted to take Rachel back to her place now, and spend the rest of the day naked, alone with her, the rest of the world be damned.
If only his life could be so simple.
*
Rachel made it home with forty minutes to spare before Josh was due to arrive. She quickly ran the vacuum through the small space, dusted the few horizontal surfaces in the living room and her bedroom, wiped down the sink in the bathroom. She didn’t know why the hell she felt compelled to clean, other than the knowledge that he was used to far nicer surroundings than her tiny apartment, and since she couldn’t change anything else, she could at least keep it spotless.
When the knock on the door came, she touched up the gloss on her lips and practically ran to answer it. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she pulled open the door and stepped to the side so Josh could walk in.
“Hello, beautiful,” he said, and leaned down to kiss her as if it was the most natural thing in the world to greet her in that way. Of course, the way he’d greeted her when she paid him a visit at the hotel had been far hotter and more demanding, but this, this felt... real. Like a couple.
Back up, Rachel. Sure, you’re getting to spend quality horizontal time with a hot hunk o’ flesh, but this isn’t a relationship, and it never will be.
She told her inner voice to shut the hell up and offered Josh a brilliant smile.
“I brought lasagna and wine. Oh, and salad, in case you like that stuff. I’m not much of a vegetable person myself.”
“Sounds delicious.” She led him into the kitchen. When she leaned against the counter and reached up to pull plates out of the cabinet, he stepped up behind her, rubbing against her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling her hair. He was hard as a rock. Already. For her.
“Are you starving?” he asked, his hands smoothing down her thighs and bunching her skirt.
“N-no. Why?”
“I am. But not for food.”
“Oh.”
He turned her around, cupped her face and kissed her as desperately as he had when they’d been in his office. “Now we don’t have to stop,” he mumbled against her lips.
“Thank God.”
He chuckled and reached down to snag her skirt, slipping his hand under the hem and then running it back up her leg until he cupped her ass. She wore a lime green thong, had deliberately chosen it in the hopes he’d get to see it tonight.
“So damn hot,” he said, still kissing her, his fingers sliding under the string of her barely-there undergarment. She groaned when his digit brushed over her swollen, overheated sex.
“It’s been too long.” She pressed against his hand and he obliged her by slipping two fingers inside her and slowly pumping while she flexed her hips, trying to push him to do it faster.
“You’re right.” Just like their first time, some sort of internal switch flipped on, and he became almost desperate as he jerked his wallet out of his pants and pulled out a condom. He unbuckled his belt and shoved his pants down his thighs, quickly sheathing himself before grabbing her legs and lifting her onto the counter. He didn’t even pull off the thong; he simply moved it to the side and pressed into her. Rachel groaned and clutched at him, holding on as if for dear life. He hit all the right spots as he worked his way deeper and deeper, and she arched, feeling her orgasm well with amazing speed.
“I’m so glad you came over,” she said, grabbing his face and kissing him urgently.
“I’m so glad you showed up today and reminded me of what I’ve been missing,” he responded as he continued to rock against her, pushing her until she let out a shriek and exploded with a powerful climax. He pumped a few more times, his movements becoming more and more jerky, until he stiffened and chased her over the edge.
They remained in that position, him clutching her hips, her arms wrapped around his neck, breathing heavily and without speaking, for long minutes. Finally, he gently extracted himself and walked over to dispose of the condom in the trashcan.
“Now I think my brain will start working again. And I’m officially starved.”
Rachel chuckled. “Me, too.”
They ate dinner curled up together on the couch, watching a movie on her laptop, using her neighbor’s unprotected wireless Internet.
“If I bought you a television, would you accept it?” he asked when the movie was over.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t. Which is partially why I want to.”
“I wouldn’t get much use out of it, since I can’t afford to pay for cable.”
“I’ll pay for that, too.”
She canted her head and studied his features. He seemed sincere, but then again, most guys who gave her stuff were.
She thought about her past relationships, what they’d meant—and what they hadn’t. What she’d gained from her dalliances had been inconsequential items that meant nothing in the grand scheme of life. Now, she was deliberately sleeping with Josh in order to preserve her own life, and unless she was mistaken, she was pretty certain she could talk him into much more than just a new television and cable.
And it was the very last thing she wanted to do.
She hated that this thing she had going on with Josh was not natural, instead had been contrived by a man with his own agenda. She didn’t want it to be like that. But she had no choice. As much as she hated to admit it, when The Prick said he owned her, he really did. Unless she wanted to take the chance that he was bluffing about killing her. Unfortunately, she wanted to
live too badly to play those odds.
“You don’t have to. I don’t expect anything out of this,” she said, stroking her finger over his bicep. “Well, that’s a lie. I do have one expectation.”
He chuckled and pulled her legs, sliding down until she lay on the couch on her back. “I’m glad to hear you have that expectation, because I fully intend to give it to you. As often as you want it. And as far as the TV, it’s no sweat. I’m kinda thinking I’m going to be spending a lot of time here, and I’d like to catch the game once in a while. When we’re not, you know, seeing to your other expectation.”
He made her task so damn easy. She hid her guilt behind a smile, forcing it away under the anticipation of another outrageously satisfying round of sex.
“In that case, I suppose I can accept your offer. So long as I get first dibs on your time.”
“Always.”
*
Josh spent the night, this time in her bed instead of on the couch. It was a double bed, with a lumpy mattress she said was probably twenty years old. It should have been a miserable night, given what he was used to, but he hardly noticed because Rachel was in his arms. Hell, they could have slept on a pile of rocks in the forest and he wouldn’t have cared, so long as he was with her. Of course, he was an animal by nature, and sleeping in a forest was something he’d done more than once in his life, but that was entirely beside the point.
The desperation he felt each time he saw her concerned him, although not enough to stay away. Shifters were obsessive by nature, so it wasn’t surprising he would feel the way he did whenever he saw her or thought about her. Granted, he’d never felt half this urgency with any other female in his life, not to mention she was human, which meant technically she should be off-limits. Okay, maybe not off-limits, but he shouldn’t think of her in terms of a relationship. In terms of mating.
Not that he was, not really. Although when she’d turned toward the counter and stretched up to reach for the knob to pull open the cabinet, he hadn’t been able to resist stepping up behind her and pressing his dick against her ass. It was perfectly natural that he would feel the temptation to take her that way. Every shifter felt that way. His body’s way of ensuring their species didn’t die out.