Satisfying Extortion [The Extortionists 2] (Siren Publishing LoveEdge)

by Natalie Acres

  She backed away then and sashayed ahead of him. He watched the gentle sway of her hips until she disappeared and then turned to the photographs, noticing immediately there were…Gulp.

  Kurt came to a dead stop.

  Apparently sensing something wasn’t quite right, Suzette peered around the kitchen wall. “What is it?”

  He gaped at the stair-stepped children. All of them must’ve been under the age of nine. “Where did all these rugrats come from?”

  She struck a pose by sliding her arm up the doorframe. “You’re looking at the rug.”

  * * * *

  Kurt had been positively tongue-tied when he’d discovered she had four children, but when she entered the dining room to announce she’d put a casserole in the oven, he wasn’t just tongue-tied. He was awestruck.

  She’d showered soon after they’d arrived there and before she’d whipped up dinner. As he’d stood guard, looking out over the lawn, he’d resented the fact that he couldn’t go upstairs with his mate. He’d been too paranoid, too concerned for her safety.

  If the extortionist came to her home, he wanted to see him coming.

  Just like he saw Suzette coming for him then.

  Suzette didn’t look like a mother of four. She looked like his sexy and sensual mate, the woman who was meant for him, the woman he would soon share with two other mates as well. As he considered the possibility of sharing her, he slowly came to terms with the reasons why she’d been chosen for them. They were trackers with responsibilities to their pack and country. With three mates, Suzette would never be left alone.

  “You’re thinking too hard over there.”

  “My thinking isn’t the problem,” he promised her.

  “Tell me.” Her damp hair fell like ringlets over her shoulders and her lips curved in a knowing smile as she cocked her head and shot him a teasing wink. He stared at the crease down the middle of her shirt. The casually opened button-down top was enough to make him rigid upon sighting.

  He moistened his lips as he watched her from across the room, afraid to move, afraid if he went to her then, he wouldn’t approach her as a man. He’d unleash that rabid beast living inside him, the wolf that hadn’t given him a moment’s peace since his arrival there in Satisfying.

  “Are you just going to stand there now? After all this talk? After all the interesting promises, the illicit comments?” She slowly caressed her breasts, dipping her hand between her cleavage and then sliding downward. She paused at her bellybutton and whispered, “Now what, Kurt? What’s next?”

  Kurt nearly released his zipper and lost his jeans when she slid curved fingers over the swell of her breast. Her eyes glistened with a woman’s lust, a woman who had just enough knowledge to make her dangerous, but not quite enough to make her the kind of seductress she wanted him to believe she could be.

  He took a seat at her dining room table. Unable to take his eyes off her then, he gripped the chair’s arms and splayed his legs. This was her show, her idea. If she wanted to tempt the devil out of a man, he wouldn’t stop her. Who was he to interrupt the show when she’d obviously set the perfect stage with full intentions of gaining admiration from her lone audience?

  Suzette sauntered forward. She stopped at the other end of the table, making him all too aware of the long stretch of wood separating them. “You’re just full of surprises. Aren’t you?”

  “How’s that?” Kurt’s face tensed. His jeans pinched the ever-loving hell out of his balls as his cock stretched the length of his denim, butting up against the material with prodding need. He was uncomfortable but tolerating the physical discomfort.

  He could sweat it for a minute because he wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what to do next. Suzette shot him a sultry smile and crooked her finger back and forth.

  Then again, maybe the little vixen was a little more experienced than he’d first assumed.

  “No way. You want it?” He tossed his head back to indicate she should pursue him. “Come and get it, darlin’.”

  She planted her palms on the table and as soon as she hauled her body forward, that shirt of hers fanned open, showcasing her high breasts and hard nipples.

  “Hell have mercy.” Guttural longing fell from his lips like a gavel striking the table. Still, he somehow remained seated, gripping the furniture in an effort to stay where he was and let her come to him. “You gonna put on a show for me, honey?”

  “Is that what you want?” She tilted her head to the side and her hip seemingly swung to the left at the same time.

  “We’re both adults here. I think you know what I want.”

  “So all you want is a show?”

  He chuckled. “Give me the show first and I’ll treat you right when the time comes.” Kurt had enjoyed his share of brassy broads. He’d gone to bed with a few of them, too, but he wouldn’t have pegged Suzette for the kind of woman who flaunted her body in front of a new potential lover, a man she’d yet to take to bed.

  A new lover destined to be her mate.

  He bit back the surge of ownership threatening to break down his defenses. Instead of rising from his chair, he held fast to the wooden frame, trying to steady the wolf threatening to rear its cocky head, the one that still tried to deny a woman like Suzette, or any woman for that matter, had the ability to tame him, owned the right to make him loyal to one woman for the rest of his days.

  “Dance for me,” he said, barely aware of the music in the background. He would see her dance, watch her every move, but he’d never remember a word of the song. Maybe a better man would memorize the lyrics, perhaps even later recall a verse. But Kurt wasn’t the better man.

  He noticed her open shirt again.

  Ah yes. He was a man who now had a close and personal relationship with immeasurable lust.

  She stopped crawling and licked her lips. Her fingers trailed between her breasts then rolled around one extended nipple.

  “God bless, woman. Are you going to slide on down this way or do I need to come over there and show you how to set those hips in motion?”

  “Now that sounds like a real plan.”

  Chapter Nine

  He was going to play her like a fiddle and she was ready and willing to hand him the bow. Kurt Dandridge wasn’t an ordinary man. She’d known it since the day they’d met. It had been a brief introduction. Her then husband—her children’s father—had been fighting for his life, but she’d still noticed Kurt and admired that unique raw quality of true masculine hunger.

  At that time in her life she hadn’t thought that he had looked at her specifically with need or lust in his eyes. Instead, he’d looked at the world with mysterious wonder, raw and passionate longing.

  Kurt was an eager man, a shifter who undoubtedly wanted revenge with a wolf living inside him, an animal just spiteful enough to look at the outside world with enough scrutiny to question anyone and everyone who stepped in his way to prevent him from taking what he wanted. At that time, he’d clearly wanted to stop a killer.

  He was there to put the bullet in a murderer’s skull.

  His passion had been remarkable, just as it was extraordinary now. He’d kill for those he loved. And when he wasn’t chasing the devil or trying to capture the extortionist or anyone else who threatened to destroy them, he’d love his woman like there was no tomorrow and nothing to stand in their way today.

  Kurt had easily slipped into the small town of Pleasant and made friends in their community. Later the residents of Pleasant had discovered putting down the extortionist wouldn’t be as simple as firing a gun or swinging any other significant weapon. The extortionist was a supernatural, an entity they couldn’t fight like an ordinary enemy.

  And Kurt wasn’t a man a woman could handle like any other man.

  His eyes held fire as she crawled across the smooth tabletop surface. She took one painstakingly inch at a time, certain her knees would be raw by the time she reached him.

  The lust in his eyes drove her motivation. Her hips swayed
to the music as she traveled to the other end of the table. As if she’d rehearsed this seduction a thousand times in her mind, she thrust one arm in front of her and flattened her hand on the table before hauling her body closer to her finish line—Kurt.

  His expression was priceless, hardcore yearning lived in his eyes, in the tight definition of his boxed jaw. A few times he released this carnal noise, a masculine sound too wrought with need, too thick with male hunger.

  “Stop.” His voice was deep, raspy.

  She wasn’t about to stop. She kept her pace. One arm out in front, then the slow drag of her body as she pushed her hips up and back, pursuing him. She might as well have been swimming toward him, nice and easy, taking her own sweet time with slow, manipulated strokes.

  As if he had every intention of scolding her then, his gaze darkened. Thick lids lingered over his pupils and the shaded circles underneath his eyes appeared grey.

  In that moment, she owned him. He was all but curved around her body and he probably suspected as much.

  “You want me.” She needed to hear him say it. She longed to hear him tell her exactly what was on his mind.

  He held up his hand then and cocked his head with a sudden jolt. “Shh.” Obviously startled, he leapt from his chair and went to the window.

  So much for whispered passionate sentiments.

  “What is it?” She trembled as a cool breeze filled the room. “Kurt?”

  “Suzette. Get dressed.” He peered behind the dated curtains hanging in her living room.

  “What do you mean get dressed?”

  “I mean, put your damned clothes on, honey. He’s here!”

  “And you think it will matter if my body is covered?” She jumped from the table and scooped up her clothes, aware of too much jiggle in her chest as she slid the material over her hips and fastened the button at her side.

  Kurt’s heated gaze swept over her once more as he took long strides across the room and grabbed her by the hand. “Let’s hope he doesn’t have a thing for unfashionable clothes.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m afraid he’s more interested in the woman hiding under these godforsaken garments.” He squeezed her hand. “And that’s where he and I are gonna have a real problem.”

  * * * *

  “Damn it!” Randon lowered the binoculars and handed them off to Pageant. “He didn’t do it.”

  “What do you mean he didn’t do it?” Blaine asked.

  “You’re privy to enough pack information. Figure it out.” Randon wasn’t a smartass by trade, but lately he’d been short on patience.

  “He didn’t mate with her,” Pageant informed Blaine, tucking the field glasses in the case.

  “You mean you were actually spying on them?” Blaine wrinkled his nose. “I thought you were covering their asses, not watching for the chance to see them grinding and fucking.”

  “I could’ve done without that image,” Randon said, bracketing Pageant around the waist and keeping her close. They’d been in this sort of situation before. The last thing Randon needed was a separation point. If they weren’t adjoined at the hip, the extortionist would look for his chance and take any slight opening they gave him.

  “I should’ve made you stay at home where you belong.”

  Blaine’s mouth fell open in obvious surprise.

  “Don’t even,” Randon said, shaking his finger at Blaine and turning to address the MC. “This is it guys. Remember to ride in a loose formation but keep your brothers in front of you in view and don’t lose those behind you.”

  A few of them pounded fists. Others slapped him on the back in passing. Blaine tried to return the gestures but the big guys more or less ignored him. Randon couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for Blaine then. Before the extortionist, he’d been an admired sheriff. He’d taken care of his county and his town. He’d been respected.

  Now, he couldn’t do much of anything without the help of the Bold and Free riders.

  Pageant looked at Blaine with compassion. “Sheriff, I mean Blaine…I hate to admit this, but I don’t know that much about Suzette. What would you consider her greatest strengths?”

  When Blaine didn’t immediately respond, Randon said, “We need to know what her greatest attributes are.”

  “Why?”

  They’d been over this a hundred and one times. “The extortionists tend to go after something of value to them. What does she have that he’d want?”

  “You mean outside of a great rack?” Blaine blushed.

  Randon’s expression likely mirrored Pageant’s. How the hell would he know what her tits looked like?

  Thankful Blaez and Marcus were tracking at the moment, Randon didn’t ask. Instead, he watched as Blaine nervously ran his hand through his short hair. “I don’t know her well enough to tell you what her talents are, Randon. Bart and I were friends back in the day, back before he was attacked.”

  “But you knew she had great tits,” Pageant pointed out.

  Blaine sniffed. His face was beet red then. He stuttered and stammered all over the place before he said, “Hell, half the men in Pleasant would tell you the same thing. When she was eighteen or nineteen, some kid with a hard dick and an absent mind took pictures of her and posted them all over town. Poor girl almost didn’t get over it. She was as shy and backward as…”

  “Wait a minute.” Randon felt his throat constrict. His head spun. His blood raced through his veins. His need to shift was upon him as the fury took hold.

  “Randon, hang on,” Pageant said, undoubtedly aware of what was happening.

  Randon took deep breaths, aware of his lungs filling with the warm night air and desperate to tame his inner animal. “Fellas! Hold up!”

  “What is it?” Blaine sounded frantic. He gripped Randon’s shoulder. “Talk to us, Randon. What’s up? What are you thinking?”

  “The extortionist isn’t a he. It’s a female.” Randon clung to Pageant then, desperate to keep her right beside him as he hurried to the lineup of men boarding their bikes. “Wait right here a second.” He tugged his phone free of his pocket. “We’ve approached this all wrong. We’re up against a female.”

  “How do you know?” Marcus appeared from out of nowhere. Bare-chested, he’d obviously just returned to his human form. He stuffed his arms in his shirt. Marked concern furrowed his brow. “Well?”

  “Did you pick up anything?” Randon asked, ignoring his first question.

  “Blaez is on to something.” Marcus approached Sting and Root, two bikers from the Missouri charter. “Can you two meet Blaez behind the Seafood Grill and Tackle?”

  “On our way, bud,” Sting said, swinging his leg over his bike.

  Marcus turned his attention to Randon. “Why do you think this extortionist is a woman? That doesn’t make sense.”

  Marcus was a little stubborn in his mindset. Once he thought something was one way, he rarely saw it another.

  Randon hurriedly found Kurt’s number in his phone and held the small device to his ear. “Pick up, damn it. Pick up!” He shook his head when Kurt didn’t answer. How had he missed this! He shot Pageant a sideways glance. And why in mercy shame had he allowed Pageant to come there with him?

  “This extortionist is a woman and she’s taking physical attributes she thinks a woman will want.”

  “But that goes against what you’ve said about them taking women’s bodies in the past so they could come back and find self-pleasure more enjoyable.”

  Sting looked at Randon as if he planned to add meaningful information to the conversation. Instead, he shrugged and said, “There’s one in every crowd.” Then, he twirled his finger in the air and barked at Root. “Let’s go, bud!”

  Sting was right. There was always one in every crowd. Generally, Sting was the one, but since some little hot number had been yanking his chain, he’d chilled out.

  “I think you’re right. We’re dealing with a female. A male wouldn’t have left the police station as quickly as the ext
ortionist departed when it realized Blaez and Suzette were—”

  “Exactly,” Randon interrupted her. “The jealousy and rage were enough to drive it crazy.”

  “Or maybe her feelings were hurt,” Blaine suggested.

  Root and Sting’s bikes roared away in the distance and Marcus grabbed the field glasses. “Who’s down there with them? I don’t see anyone.”

  “They’re hiding,” Randon told him, pacing.

  “Think about this, Randon,” Marcus said, tucking the binoculars back in the case and cocking his head. “On second thought, just listen.” He glanced at Blaine and then refocused on Randon. “We were out there fighting off this thing while you and Pageant were hiding and Blaez and Suzette were—”

  “I think we know what Blaez and Suzette were doing,” Bart bit out, entering the clearing after a short stint in town. He’d gone to grab a bite to eat but Randon immediately suspected he had missed the meal and opted to spy on his former wife instead.

  “Anyway,” Marcus drawled. “The fact is, this thing fought like a male.”

  Pageant rolled her eyes. “But it makes more sense that we’re dealing with a female. When Blaez and Suzette were in the closet, what happened?”

  Marcus nodded at Blaine. “Go on. You tell ‘em. You were the one who was closest to them.”

  “It’s hard to explain. The images we all saw became more profound and definitely distinct. The facial features were sculpted with high cheeks and full lips.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Rage,” Bart spoke up again. “The damn thing was furious.”

  “I think a female would be far more dangerous. Not only would she be jealous, but she might be more cunning. The males obviously approach with vengeance driving them. They let their fury guide them. With the females, it might be different. Their jealousy could dictate how they handle certain situations.”

  “How would she be jealous?” Marcus asked, maybe coming around to accepting their current theory.