Steel Heart

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Steel Heart Page 3

by R. J. Blain


  Releasing him, I replied, “I’m game to try. I need a proper nibbling session.”

  “You get five, I get five, and we’ll use the rest of the minutes to take a nap. I don’t know about you, but if those assholes don’t give me a break soon, I’m going to sleep during a meeting soon.”

  Damn. He’d looked tired, but I hadn’t expected him to be that tired. Rather than nibble, I kissed his cheek. “Hang in there just a little longer, tiger. I’ll hide you under my bed tonight, and I’ll pick a fight with my pesky agents to make sure they look somewhere else for you. Then I’ll nibble on you, and we’ll barricade the bedroom door, then we’ll both catch up on sleep.”

  “Other men might be upset over being rescued by a woman, but I accept your most generous offer of salvation and a chance to get some sleep.”

  With only five minutes to work with, I’d have to upgrade from nibbles to nips to mark my territory. I started on his throat, which always captured his undivided attention. As always, he tilted his head to give me easy access. Rather than adhere to my usual routine, I aimed for my favorite spot, where his shoulder and his neck met, not quite grazing his collar bone. Had I nibbled rather than nipped, he would’ve relaxed under my touch. Anatoly yelped, and with a snarl, he retaliated, snapping his teeth at my throat. We rolled off the couch, and I landed on my back with him sprawled on top of me. While I fended him off with a hand on his jaw, I offered him one of my fingers, which he seized with his teeth.

  “You are an entity of pure evil.” He evaluated our position, which put him on top and in general control of the situation. With anyone else, I would’ve already been struggling to escape. Instead, I relaxed, tapping his mouth with my finger, which he nipped again. “You test my patience, Jesse.”

  “When haven’t I tested your patience?”

  “Good question. I’ll think about it. As punishment for such terrible treatment of my person, I’m claiming the rest of your minutes and adding them to my minutes. My turn to nibble, and you only have yourself to blame.”

  Something about his tone challenged me, and I bit his arm right above his wrist, hard enough he bled. Anatoly yelped again, and I bit down harder.

  Mine, mine, mine. Then, to make it clear I would always emerge the victor, I gave the bite mark a defiant lick. Ever since I’d begun shifting, the taste of blood had grown on me, and something about Anatoly’s blood appeased the predator within as nothing else did.

  Fortunately for him, the wound would close within a few minutes and leave little evidence I’d gotten a hold of him with my teeth. The scent of blood would tip my agents off one of us had bled on something, but they’d likely assume I’d clawed him.

  Again.

  I had many bad habits, but Anatoly kept driving me crazy. Worse, he encouraged it. Then, as he had no sense of self-preservation, he encouraged me when I landed a good hit and made him bleed.

  I gave the spot a kiss to make it all better, as my tiger whined when he didn’t receive affection. Then I licked him again to erase the evidence he’d bled from my bite.

  “I deserved that,” Anatoly growled. Pulling his chin free of my hold, he struck, pinning my wrists to the floor and using his leg to immobilize my lower body. He rested his weight on me, smirked, and kissed the tip of my nose. “You’re wearing my blood like lipstick, and I like that.”

  “You’re demented.”

  “It’s such a nice shade on you. But don’t be wasteful. You wanted my blood that bad, so at least clean up after yourself.”

  I licked my lips, well aware he enjoyed when I did such a thing. I didn’t understand it, but he liked it, and while tigers couldn’t purr, his chest rumbled from his sensual growl. “Better?”

  “Much. Now, what am I going to do with you? I have at least seven minutes to enjoy.”

  “Well, I seem to have somehow gotten pinned. I suppose that means you can do whatever you want with me.”

  I had pleasant memories of my first time with a man, and I’d gotten lucky, landing one who’d been both aggressive yet considerate, and he’d done with me much as I did with Anatoly. Being coaxed into losing my inhibitions had made the whole night worth my while—and his, too.

  I wanted the same for Anatoly, although I’d guessed long ago men had an easier time of it than women.

  When he finally let go and gave in, I’d be ready to teach him what I liked and discover what he liked along the way.

  “Mhmm.” Anatoly adjusted his hold on my left arm, sliding his hand to my elbow. Then, much like a snake tired of being poked with a stick, he sank his teeth into my upper arm. Rather than the blunt, human teeth I expected, the sharp stab of a feline’s fangs tore into my skin. I smelled blood, and like I had done to him, he licked me until the wound closed.

  “I deserved that,” I concede with a smile.

  Life as a shifter suited me, especially as I healed much faster than I had before I’d fully embraced my life as a Siberian. Before I could figure out how to escape him, Anatoly relaxed against me, nuzzling my throat. To keep from crushing me, he rolled over and dragged me with him, situating us so my back rested against his chest.

  “There,” he announced, and he trailed kisses from my shoulder to my cheek. “Maybe they’ll forget we’re here.”

  “Unlikely.”

  “It’s worth a try. Maybe they won’t notice us on the floor.”

  “It’s worth a try,” I agreed, snuggling closer to him. “If they didn’t want us taking a nap, they wouldn’t have given us twenty whole minutes.”

  “Exactly. And I meant what I said. I’m hiding under your bed tonight, and we’re going to escape in the maze so we can both get our fair share of nibbling rather than a few nips.” Anatoly paused. “I guess those weren’t really nips, were they?”

  “If you don’t tell, I won’t, but next time, you better watch your throat, or you’ll have to wear a scarf. And if you try to hide it, I’m going to tattoo my claim on your damned forehead.”

  Anatoly dragged his teeth along the side of my throat. “Remember that, Jesse. I’ll mark you from shoulder to jaw, and not even a scarf will hide you’re mine.”

  “I’m tattooing a collar around your throat if you even think about shredding that much of my neck, Silverston.”

  His laughter rumbled in his chest. “I’ll buy the ink, the needles, and the cream to make it permanent.”

  Tigers. I’d been warned, but I hadn’t listened.

  We liked it rough, and Anatoly played for keeps.

  So did I.

  “I keep a kit under the bed, and I’ve got the ink the same color as your skin. I’ll collar you tonight if you keep running your mouth, you damned tiger.”

  In reality, we’d be dozing or amusing ourselves in other ways, but I’d tattoo another mark on him as soon as he was unconscious and I wasn’t—and left unsupervised for the time it’d take to leave my mark. I’d need a lot of the proper sedative to keep him blissfully unaware of me scraping him with my needles to leave my mark on his flesh. Again.

  He gifted me with another gentle kiss to my throat. “It’s a date. I’ll do my best to run my mouth sufficiently to earn such a collar—or nibble you into submission. Either will work.”

  Pleased I’d be able to steal time with him one way or another, I closed my eyes and basked in his warmth.

  The low rumble of Anatoly’s growl woke me, and I tensed, preparing to put an end to whatever had disturbed him. He pinned me close, and when I bared my teeth to join him in growling, I got a mouthful of my comforter. Startled, I spit it out.

  It occurred to me the damned tiger was likely protesting someone coming to force us to attend his damned meeting. I resented the interruption to my rest, and I rolled over, wiggling in Anatoly’s arms until I nestled my chin against his shoulder. “I don’t want to get up,” I whined.

  “We figured that out after your agents fruitlessly tried to get either one of you to wake up,” my aunt announced. “They came in and found you two in a rather comatose state. So comatose
, in fact, I summoned Cleo and Henry to figure out what was wrong with you two.”

  Well, shit. The pesky Secret Service agents must have gotten worried and gone to my aunt at a loss of how to deal with me or my damned tiger.

  Hell, I didn’t know how to deal with me or my damned tiger.

  Anatoly quieted, but he didn’t ease his hold on me. “We’re not dead.”

  “I see that. Feel better?”

  “No. I was enjoying my nap, and Jesse’s tired, too. Go away and leave us alone.”

  “I’m not going to go away, and I’m certainly not going to leave you alone.” When my aunt took that tone of voice, it’d be easier to raise Washington from its watery grave than it’d be changing her mind. Fighting her would unleash mayhem, and I debated how best to annoy her for disturbing my nap. Before I could come up with a plan, she said, “Henry laughed when he had a look at you, and he left without a word, leaving Cleo to figure out what was wrong with you two. Cleo was so shocked Henry just up and left without a care in the world he stared at the door for a solid five minutes before gathering his wits. I can’t say I blame him, as Henry takes his mystic duties seriously.”

  “I figured it out after I looked. I was just gobsmacked he actually left,” the donkey said with laughter in his voice. “When the cause of concern is exhaustion and there’s nothing actually wrong, it makes sense, Madam President. Henry’s got a good feel for Anatoly, and Jesse’s obvious. She was conked out so hard I bet they heard her snoring in Atlanta. Now, that snore is cause for concern, but we’ll take care of it once she’s not worn out. You have a pair of Siberians dancing around each other and no time for them to spend together. That’s exhausting for a pair, Madam President. She’s been climbing the walls, and the First Gentleman has even said he was worried about Anatoly’s temper.”

  “Tell me in simple terms so I don’t have to fret about these two.”

  “It’s separation anxiety. In Jesse’s case, she’s spent her entire life working, and she’s not handling the lack of a serious job well. Anatoly’s used to work, and he still has his work, but he’s tying himself in knots because she’s anxious she’s not working. Short form for dense grizzly bears: let them catch up on sleep. Once they’re rested, send them into the meeting together, then send them out on a job.”

  “The Hope Diamond—“

  Cleo snorted. “That stone has a mind of its own and likes Jesse. Nobody can steal it, and it’s going to defend itself as it sees fit. Until it changes its mind, that’s that. Locking her up in the palace isn’t going to help anything. Anatoly needs to stretch his legs and get his roaming in, too. I know she’s your niece, and I know you like the damned tiger, but caging them isn’t going to help. They’re so on edge the damned cats were fighting before they settled down for a nap, and they both managed to land some hits. It’s just some bruising at this point, but you’ve got a pair of powder kegs set to blow, and they won’t need a combustion zone when they finally explode. Let them sleep it off, then try again tomorrow, but give them both meaningful work to do.”

  “What he said,” I announced before snuggling closer to Anatoly and closing my eyes. “Shh, you’re noisy.”

  “Could you at least make it to a bed before doing that? You about gave Randal a heart attack when he found you two passed out on the floor with a faint scent of blood in the air. He’d thought someone had gotten into the room and done something to you.”

  Ah. That explained my aunt’s reaction. “I had to put the damned Siberian in his place again.”

  Randal sighed. “While I should have guessed, could you both roar next time you’re doing that so I know you’re just being Siberians as usual?”

  Huh. We had been rather quiet during our scuffle.

  “I was too tired to roar,” I replied. “I didn’t mean to worry you. We were too tired to scuffle long, too. I’m sorry.”

  “Yet you did it anyway, one of you drew blood, and then you decided it was nap time.” Randal heaved another sigh. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s none of my business how you two want to beat each other when you’re given a few minutes alone, but could you try to limit the actual bloodshed? I swear, I’m going to need therapy. No matter how often I’m told Siberians are aggressive with each other, I lose a few years off my life when I come in here and smell blood because you two were clawing at each other again.”

  Anatoly cuddled closer to me. “She gets feisty when I want to hold her close. One of these days, I might tame her, but I do so enjoy her fight. I also have to be satisfying prey for her when she wants to enter my space. It is a ritual. I’ve got her nicely tamed for the moment, and if you’d stop talking and leave us alone, she might go back to sleep.”

  I really would.

  “Damned tigers,” Cleo muttered.

  The donkey had been hanging out too much with Anatoly’s mystic, and I grinned, aware he couldn’t see my expression. “Where’s Todd and Gentry?”

  “They’re getting yelled at by the First Gentlemen for their failure to contain a pair of tigers. By that, I mean you two,” Cleo replied. “They were in here, but Todd started acting weird, then he started laughing, and he left and said we should just leave you two alone.”

  I needed to thank Todd for having some sense. “And Gentry?”

  “He got recruited to wake Anatoly. He roared in your tiger’s ear and barely got a grunt. At that point, he started acting weird, too, and left to go talk to Todd. I should go give them both a check. Everyone’s acting weird.”

  The poor donkey likely had no idea what to make of me on the floor in my bathrobe practically wearing Anatoly. “Tigers are warm, Cleo. That’s the only defense I need.”

  “And considering how shit you are at regulating your body temperature when you’re tired and stressed, you likely got into a fight because you were cold and couldn’t figure out how to ask him to hold you. You can just ask him to hold you, Jesse. He’s not going to say no. In fact, the instant he finds out you’re cold, he’s going to get a blanket, wrap you in it, and hold you as long as you want.”

  I considered that. “Is he right, Anatoly?”

  “Our way is more entertaining, but he’s right. If you’re cold, I’ll do just that, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll piss you off until you start chasing me so you warm up that way. But I’d probably go get the blanket first.”

  Anatoly remained as shameless as always. No, even more shameless, as he’d stayed in a protective mode ever since Fort Lauderdale.

  To my dismay, I’d grown used to having someone hovering to the point where I disliked being alone.

  Too much had changed in too little time.

  Hmm. “If we keep sleeping on the floor, we’re going to be sore.” I stretched a leg to discover I’d already crossed that threshold. Something creaked and popped. “Too late.”

  “Bed or bath?” Anatoly asked.

  I wanted both, with him. “Eviction of the others first, then I will decide.”

  The tiger released me, sat up, and unleashed his loudest roar.

  “That’s hardly intimidating,” my aunt replied. “Really, Anatoly. It’s not like you’re the only species here who can roar. I’m not going to run just from you roaring. You didn’t even rattle my agents’ nerves with that one. Are you sure you’re quality enough of a Siberian for my niece?”

  At Anatoly’s growl, I smacked him in the gut hard enough he wheezed. “Leave, or I’ll beat the tiger so bad he can’t attend meetings for a week.” I poked my head out from beneath my comforter, locked eyes with the grizzly, and hissed.

  “I’m not sure if that’s a punishment or a reward,” my aunt admitted. “But if you’re hissy enough you’re thinking about making a run at me, I see all hope for the tiger is lost. I’ll notify the council they’re short a Siberian until tomorrow morning. Leave him in suitable condition for the meeting, and be prepared to attend yourself. If you two are going to suffer from separation anxiety of all things, that’s an easy enough problem to solve. Really, I’m goi
ng to have to have a talk with your mother about this. Separation anxiety, Jesse?”

  Even I recognized my aunt’s case of severe disappointment. “I like my property where I can easily find and access him.”

  My aunt blinked, and then she narrowed her eyes. “Are you toying with me, little girl?”

  “This is my tiger. I caught him. Get your own tiger if you want one. This one is mine.”

  “And that would be the hyperactive overprotective tendencies of a tigress on display. Madam President, if I may point something out?”

  “What?”

  “One, her agents scented blood, but nobody found any on either of the overprotective tigers. This implies the blood was somehow removed. Upon investigation, his scent was only fresh in this room.”

  While I had expected the lot of them to go overboard, they’d done a sniff test of my suite?

  Anatoly sighed.

  “I’m aware. Continue,” my aunt ordered, her tone implying she’d reached her limit.

  “Neither one of them had gone to the pool or the bathroom. Judging from the scent markers, Jesse was only in her bedroom long enough to put on her robe. So, they were probably taking bites of each other and enjoying a fresh treat of tasty tiger.”

  “For fuck’s sake!” My aunt drew in a breath and roared. “You two are idiots, aren’t you?”

  Yes, we were. Instead of answering her, I glared. She glared back.

  “Madam President, please. She’s probably trying to tell you to get the fuck out of her hair so she can resume resting, as she’s unable to rest without her tiger around. They’ve been blocked from sharing a home, and at absolute most, they only get a passing nip at each other and limited brawls the few times he’s out of meetings. Siberians take their time courting, and they’ve been nipping at each other for weeks. They probably got overenthusiastic about their nipping before they passed out. That would also explain why the others left while laughing. I’m just slow and dense because I’m used to a damned stallion who would mount a damned tree stump if it got flirty with him.”

  “I’m so telling Todd you think he’d assault a dead tree,” I announced.

 

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