Roping Savannah

by Jory Strong

  Kye retraced his steps to the stairwell. Torn. Tempted to return to the van. Afraid it would disappear—though he had no proof it had anything to do with the man he had killed. He tried to push his misgivings away in favor of the logic on which he was basing his actions. And yet by the time he had gotten to the lower level of the garage and the Council car, now outfitted with those tools he had found useful while serving the scientists as a bounty hunter, his resolve had faded in favor of an Earth motto that might well have been created by his cousin. It is easier to gain forgiveness than it is to get permission.

  He retrieved a small thin wire from the car and returned to the van, satisfaction, righteous justification rushing through him when he retrieved the slick, black vinyl case from underneath the van’s seat and opened it, the velvety outline inside proving it had housed a weapon.

  Kye took a few moments to search the rest of the vehicle. But other than the registration papers bearing some unknown corporation’s name, the van was spotless. He tucked the registration in his pocket and locked the doors behind him before once again retracing his steps, only to stiffen when he encountered the two Vice cops hovering near where his own transportation was parked.

  Creech, red-faced despite the cooling evening, leaned against a nearby car. Mastrin, the one who had called Kye a rent-a-cop, waited at the base of the stairs, jacket open, his hand on his firearm. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Holden’s pretty boy.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Savannah lay on her side facing Draigon, admiring the hard planes of his face, the aristocratic nose, the full masculine lips and the flow of hair that rippled across the pillows. God, he was gorgeous. Every bit as gorgeous as Kye. Every bit as addictive.

  Her fingers made lazy circles on his chest, moving closer to a hardened male nipple then retreating, her smile widening when he grumbled and grabbed her hand, covering his nipple with it, the brilliant green of his eyes visible from beneath lowered eyelashes.

  She tugged at her hand and he released it when she leaned in, pressing her mouth to his, tracing the seam of his lips with her tongue, coaxing him into opening for her. Into welcoming the kiss, the lazy exploration of tongue against tongue while her hand traveled lower, pausing to explore the taut muscles of his abdomen before moving on.

  He was already semi-hard, but his cock pulsed in greeting when her hand arrived, filled with blood when she curled her fingers around warm flesh, stroked. Up and down. Up and down until his hips were lifting off the bed, his tongue rubbing aggressively against hers, building toward a demand that she cede control to him and let him cover her body with his, a demand she wouldn’t be able to refuse—if she allowed it to go that far. With a husky laugh she ended the kiss. “Oh no, I’ve got something else planned.”

  Savannah rose to her knees and said, “Slide this way.” Anticipation rushing through her when he allowed her to position his body so she could kneel above him, could offer her breast as she tormented his nipple with her tongue and lips.

  She moaned when his mouth took her offering, her nipple tender from all the attention it had received. The feel of Draigon’s tongue and mouth making it seem as though a heated wire ran from her breast to her cunt. His suckling riding the thin edge between pain and pleasure. Each pull on her nipple making the muscles in her channel clench and release, each brush of his tongue making her clit pulse—all of it burning her from the inside out, coating her skin with a light sheen of sweat so that when he groaned and urged her lower, she didn’t resist.

  Draigon shuddered as Savannah’s lips teased their way toward his shaft. He had never thought to die of pleasure, but his bond-mate was killing him with her attention.

  He jerked when her soft mouth finally touched the head of his cock, cried out against the wet lips of her cunt when her tongue circled the tip of his penis, his own tongue thrusting into her slit then going to her clit, mimicking her strokes to his cock head, sucking the engorged knob when she took him into her mouth and did the same to him.

  Lust was a roar removing all thought, a rush that left no room for anything but sensation, for fierce desire that demanded everything. He drowned in her scented arousal, burned in her arms, gave himself completely up to Savannah even as he reveled in the way she gave herself so freely to passion, to him.

  * * * * *

  Kye forced his body to relax in the presence of the two Vice cops. He didn’t trust them. Didn’t like them. And yet he could not afford to antagonize them.

  They could kill him with their primitive weapons if he allowed them such an opportunity. Or they could delay his return to Savannah with a trip to the police station if he let them goad him into saying or doing something they could charge him with. Kye decided to ignore them, to try to get to the car without confrontation.

  Mastrin and Creech closed ranks, blocking his path. “Where’s your girlfriend?” the heavily jowled Creech asked.

  Kye shrugged and lied. “I do not know where she is at the moment.”

  Creech sneered. “Maybe she’s holed up in a hotel room somewhere and the other pretty-boy we heard she’d hooked up with is holed up in her.”

  Kye stiffened, his entire body screaming with outrage, with the desire to rip the policeman in front of him into pieces for speaking of Savannah in such an insulting manner. Only his training, his time serving the Council, stayed him from yielding to emotion. The sight of both Mastrin and Creech tensing, as though hoping he would attack and give them reason to arrest or kill him, providing additional reason for Kye to refrain from violence. But it didn’t cool the anger coursing through him.

  Mastrin took up where his partner had left off. Smiling, an oily expression that didn’t reach his eyes. “Every redhead I’ve ever been with has been a hellion in the sack. But I’ve never had to call in reinforcements.”

  Kye considered his options. He would not turn his back on either of the men, and he suspected they would continue to block his path if he tried to move around them. He did not want to kill them, nor did he think threats to report their conduct would work to his advantage. That left only conversation and the passage of time as weapons.

  “If you have finished amusing yourselves at my expense, perhaps you will tell me why you are here,” Kye said as the sound of a car entering the parking garage traveled to where they were standing.

  Creech shifted his stance, looking over his shoulder to where beams of light were striking the wall. Mastrin said, “Good question. And we could ask the same of you.” The policeman’s eyes dropped to the case in Kye’s hand, his eyes narrowing. “What’s inside?”

  “Nothing. It is empty.”

  Mastrin’s body tightened, his stance becoming more aggressive. “Then you won’t mind opening it and letting us see for ourselves.”

  “You have a warrant?” Kye asked, grateful he had prepared well for his work on Earth.

  “We can take you downtown,” Creech threatened.

  “If you choose to do so, I cannot stop you.”

  Frustration flashed across Creech’s face. He and Mastrin exchanged glances, a silent message passing between them before Creech said, “Look, we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot here. We don’t have a problem with you. But we do have one with your girlfriend. She’s messing up an investigation we’ve got going. Even today, when she’s supposed to be on vacation, suddenly every time we turn around, she’s been there, asking questions, making people nervous. We just want her to lay off before she screws things up completely and gets caught in the crossfire. ’Cause right now we don’t know how far what we’re investigating goes. We don’t know how desperate the perps are going to get, and whether or not they’ll shoot first and ask questions later. You see what I’m getting at? Tell her we’ll overlook the outing today and won’t make a big deal of it if she’ll just remember she’s supposed to be on vacation.”

  Mastrin nodded and added, “Look, she’s hot. If she wasn’t such a pain in the ass, I’d consider asking her out myself. So why not make this a win-win for all of
us. Maybe you can keep her in bed for couple of days, keep her safe and enjoy doing it. I mean, geez, a guy could spend an entire day just admiring her tits—” He broke off when Kye tensed. “Okay, okay. Hey, no hard feelings.” His gaze dropped to the case against Kye’s leg. “That have anything to do with Ricky Nowak’s place getting trashed?”

  “No,” Kye said, his tone matching the two men’s, as though there were indeed no hard feelings. “Savannah spoke the truth. The apartment was ransacked when we arrived and we touched nothing.”

  Creech exhaled, a loud huff of air. “Okay then, we’re done here.”

  * * * * *

  Savannah woke, immediately alert though she couldn’t remember dozing off after showering and returning to bed. An engine rumbled in the distance, the sound of it carrying on thin night air, speeding the beat of her heart. But when she started to scramble for clothing and her gun, Draigon laughed, momentarily tightening his arm and holding her back to his chest. “It is only Kye,” he said, his voice so certain she didn’t question him, and yet, how could he be so sure?

  “I didn’t hear a phone ring.” In fact now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen either Kye or Draigon use a cell phone and her own was recharging on the kitchen counter.

  Draigon closed his eyes briefly, burying his face in Savannah’s neck, nuzzling her soft skin, kissing her, cursing himself for forgetting how smart she was even as he tried to distract her from her line of thinking. Relief pouring into him when she laughed, when she turned in his arms and arched, exposing the length of her neck, her breasts, bare, tempting, so lush that they never failed to draw Draigon’s attention to them.

  He kissed his way down her throat, not bothering to tease her with a slow approach but going directly to a well-loved nipple, latching on and suckling, feasting, swallowing her whimpers of pleasure, finding them as filling as their children would one day find her milk.

  He hadn’t intended to take her. To have Kye walk in on them while they were intimate, and yet something primitive filled Draigon, demanding he stake his claim in the way of beasts, not men.

  With a growl he rose above her, used his strength to hold her so his mouth could remain at her breast even as he impaled her with a quick hard thrust, fucked in and out of her in a way that had her sobbing in pleasure.

  He knew the moment Kye entered the cabin. Could feel the Vesti’s wild mix of emotion along with his own. And it fed the need to dominate Savannah, to claim her until she was screaming in orgasm and fiery seed was burning through his cock, his release so violent he collapsed on the bed next to her, weak beyond all imagining. Too weak even to think, to protest, to do anything but watch as Kye’s body covered Savannah’s, as the Vesti’s cock shoved into the place his own had just been.

  Savannah wrapped her legs around Kye’s waist, her body signaling that it needed him as desperately as she’d needed Draigon only a moment ago. “You guys have turned me into a nympho,” she said with a laugh, and the red haze left Kye’s mind. Reason returning, acceptance. The primitive roar of his ancestors dulling with the feel of her sheath, with her husky words. He had not liked seeing Draigon covering Savannah, fucking her. But it was impossible to stay angry in her presence. To think of anything but mating with her.

  By the stars, even though she’d been taken repeatedly, her cunt was a fist around his cock, milking him of all that he had to offer. “Savannah,” he whispered, holding her more tightly as he plunged in and out of her, his mouth going to hers, hungrily swallowing her sighs and moans, the intensity of both emotion and physical sensation leaving no room for gentleness, no time to linger. There was only a wild, rough rush to completeness. To ecstasy. To being one with her. A release that left him shaky, his muscles lax, his heart thundering in his head.

  Kye shivered when she ran her fingernails down his back and over his buttocks, grunted when she nipped at his chin, laughed when she murmured, “You’d better get off me, Batman. As much as I’d like to make a meal out of you, I need something a little more wholesome.” She punctuated the statement by nibbling at his mouth. “And unless the great sex is making me hallucinate, I smell Chinese food. Did you bring some back with you?”

  He rolled over, taking her with him so she sprawled out along the length of his body. “Yes.” This time it was his turn to make her shiver as he scraped his nails along her back and over her buttocks. “I wanted to make sure you were well fed for the night ahead,” Kye said, his cock stirring. A desire foreign to his nature invading his thoughts along with images of taking her again in front of Draigon. Of demonstrating his claim to her in front of another male. And on the heel of that need came thoughts of cooperation. Of taking her together in a true sharing.

  Kye kissed her, hugging her to him before resting his hands lightly on her sides. “You’ll have to get up on your own. I have no ability to push you away from me.”

  Savannah laughed and dipped her head, brushing her lips against his before rolling to the side and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to grab a shower first.”

  She showered quickly, donning a black g-string and one of the shirts she’d gotten for Kye, a green that matched his eyes, and hers, and now Draigon’s as well. For some reason the thought of them all having that trait in common made her smile. She grinned. Hell, who was she kidding? They made her smile. And it was more than great sex, more than just having her favorite fantasy play out in the bedroom, and against the side of the truck, and on the kitchen table, and… Savannah snickered. The list could go on forever with Kye and Draigon serving as inspiration.

  Savannah left the bathroom and found Kye and Draigon had already set the table. She paused at the kitchen counter only long enough to use the cell in order to check her voice mail at the station for messages. Her gaze going to a rifle case and auto registration, assuming they belonged to Kye and wondering at the name on the paperwork, Wray Investments, before concentrating on weeding through the few messages in the hopes The Ferret had called. He hadn’t. Savannah set the phone back on the counter and joined Kye and Draigon at the table. They loaded their plates, silent for the first few minutes as they ate.

  She ought to feel completely wiped out by all the sex, along with traipsing around Reno asking about The Ferret and the girls, plus the fight with the Guzman brothers—not that she’d seen a hell of a lot of action in it. But instead of being exhausted, Savannah felt an absolute, soul-satisfying contentedness that radiated outward and seemed to soak into every cell. As corny as it sounded, as crazy as it sounded, now that Kye and Draigon were on the scene she felt as though she’d found her place in the scheme of the things. Which wasn’t a logical conclusion given she was hiding out in a cabin and wasn’t much closer to getting back to her regularly scheduled rounds as a cop.

  A small worry crept in at the thought of her job. About the reality waiting for her after this mess was behind her. Her conversation with Krista coming back to haunt her.

  So what’s holding you back? Are you afraid it’d get back to your principal and you’d get canned on a morals clause?

  Yeah, something like that.

  Savannah studied Kye for a moment then shifted her gaze to Draigon. They weren’t just here for the party. They were here for the long haul. She felt it. She believed it. Everything they’d said and done backed it up. This wasn’t casual for them. They were playing for keeps.

  Kye’s willingness to share her when it wasn’t something he’d done before was part of the proof. Draigon’s serious nature, the rigid exterior he allowed her to peel away, exposing his vulnerability, was another piece of evidence. She’d bet her favorite horse that Draigon didn’t let many people see the man she’d seen in the truck when their make-out session had ended abruptly, the man who’d laughed at himself until tears streaked down his face.

  Savannah sighed and looked down. Picked up an egg roll and swirled it in hot mustard. If they suggested living together, how long would it take before it became obvious to everyone that they weren’t just roommates? An
d what would that mean to her chances of not only making detective but staying a cop?

  Fair or unfair, cops were held to a higher standard. The department might not fire her over living with two guys who were also her lovers, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be encouraged to quit. There were plenty of jobs on the force she had no interest in doing. Jobs that would make turning in her badge a distinct possibility.

  She sighed, remembering a conversation she’d had with some of her female cousins about how much they’d be willing to give up for a good man—the perfect man—if such a creature existed. Savannah took a bite of the egg roll, once again studying Kye and Draigon. How much would she be willing to give up in order to be with both of them?

  Kye reached over and smoothed the skin between her eyebrows. “What are you thinking about? What worries you?”

  Savannah tried to shrug the future aside. “Just thinking about Krista.” Which was somewhat true. Thoughts of Krista had led her to thinking about the potential career problems that lay ahead because of Draigon and Kye.

  Kye smiled and it instantly lightened Savannah’s mood. “There is no need to worry about your friend. She is safe and well cared for. Draigon can attest to this fact. He witnessed Krista’s arrival as he was leaving to come here.”

  “Krista’s arrival where?” Savannah asked, her attention shifting to Draigon and catching Kye’s wince out of the corner of her eye.

  Draigon touched the smooth skin on the back of Savannah’s hand, moving upward, wrapping his fingers around her wrist, wishing it was the band he had created for the binding ceremony touching her instead of his own flesh. “Our home…city, Savannah. A place Kye and I hope to take you. A place where your friend has already found happiness with Adan, who has been a friend of mine since childhood, and with Lyan who is Kye’s cousin.”

  “Happy and soon to be pregnant, given my cousin’s nature and Adan’s,” Kye said. “She will be lucky if they allow her to put on clothing or leave the living quarters.”