Predator's Serenade

by Rosanna Leo

  What did one do with “no” anyway?

  “Stop it,” he warned himself. He grabbed the beer sitting next to him on the piano bench and wrenched off the cap. He took a swig and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Get back to work.”

  He placed his hands on the keys and tried a few more chords. The passage still didn’t sound right. Why was this so damn hard? “Get her out of your head! Stop thinking with your cock, you animal.”

  He decided to give up for the night, but stared at the piano for a moment. Then, unable to think of anything else, he allowed himself to picture Gioia again. As he indulged in remembering her, his fingers stroked the piano keys, and he pretended he was stroking her. He concentrated on the way she tried in vain to tuck her long curls behind her ear, and other notes began to fall into place for him. He remembered the searing heat of their kiss, and a new musical phrase formed in his head. A haunting melody was taking shape as he dwelled on the fine arch of her eyebrow. His gut stirred as he pictured the soft roundness of her breasts.

  Bewildered, he stared down at the piano keys that had been grieving him. Thinking of Gioia seemed to be helping him overcome his musical writer’s block. When he had forced her from his mind, the music wouldn’t flow. Once he permitted himself to think of her, the music poured out of him.

  “Well, what do you know? I do have a Muse,” he chuckled. “Better write it all down.”

  Perhaps he could convince the little owl to kiss him again, just to get his creative juices flowing. Then he could write some more of the blasted piece.

  With a laugh, he wondered if she’d allow him to screw her senseless so he could finish the whole damned thing.

  * * * *

  As Gunnar grunted in his sleep, Gioia’s eyes popped open. She’d been on the verge of finally falling asleep but was too attuned to her son’s sleeping patterns. Even at home, when they were in different parts of the house, she heard every moan and cry. Here, where they shared a suite at the resort, it was hard to drift off while Gunnar was reliving his pain. Ryland had kindly given them a suite, even though they’d only booked a standard room, but Gioia liked to keep the door open between the rooms.

  She checked on him to see if he was having one of his usual nightmares. He’d been better since Soren helped him today, but she was under no illusion that things were perfect with her son. Yes, he’d made strides but still had a ways to go in forgiving himself.

  He kicked at his blanket and muttered something unintelligible, and then he rolled over and snored. When he wasn’t having nightmares, the kid slept like the dead. Teens.

  Rubbing her eyes, feeling sleepy and wide awake at the same time, she went off in search of a bottle of water from the minibar. She opened the small door, careful not to let it squeak, and spotted a Heineken at the back. “Ooh, much better than spring water.”

  Grateful for the bottle opener attached to the minibar, she popped the top. Gioia took the bottle and opened up the patio door. She stepped out onto the fourth floor balcony and lowered herself onto a plush lounger that looked way more comfortable than her rickety old patio chairs at home. She settled into the overstuffed cushions and sighed. Her room looked out over the outdoor pool, where the waters twinkled even at night. In the distance, the dark woods formed a black wedge against the horizon. She could smell the pines, even from here. Soothed, Gioia took a sip of beer and laid back in her lounger with her eyes closed.

  It was a warm, sultry night, the kind whose heat enveloped a body. If Gioia had been wearing any other type of pajamas, she’d be tempted to take them off. However, she was wearing Soren’s Hugo Boss shirt. The resort staff had laundered it quickly for her, and she luxuriated in its smoothness. The fabric was soft and had the feel of a well-loved garment. Somehow, even after cleaning, it smelled of him, and she lifted the collar to her nose to breathe him in. Sliding it on over her nude body had been a sinful temptation, one she hadn’t been able to resist. Now, in the black of night, her memories of him tormented her in the most delicious way. She slid a hand between her legs, remembering the feel of his big hand there.

  “Soren,” she said, sighing.

  Within moments, she heard footsteps on the pool deck below her. The pool closed at six o’clock. She couldn’t imagine who’d be out there now. It was almost three A.M. Leaning forward, removing her hand from her crotch, she glanced toward the sound.

  And saw the object of her lust. What was Soren doing on the pool deck in the middle of the night?

  Dragging her chair quietly to the edge of the balcony, she watched. He stared at the water in the pool as if hypnotized. He stood so still, lost in his thoughts. Was he thinking of her? She couldn’t help hoping so.

  After a couple of minutes, he slowly reached up and yanked his shirt over his head. Damn. That incredible bare chest again. Only he didn’t stop there. With the soft, blue glow of the water reflecting off his chiseled form, Soren unbuttoned his jeans. Staring into the pool the whole time, he pushed his pants down over his hips and off his legs.

  Holy Mother of God, he goes commando!

  Gioia couldn’t look away, even if she wanted to. His abs had been something else. But this? She gawked at the evidence of his sexual prowess and felt a splash of cold on her leg. Jumping at the frigid sensation, she realized she’d poured beer on herself. Putting her bottle down, she forgot to wipe the liquid off her leg and just let it drip off. She was too enraptured by the sight of a totally nude Soren Snow.

  He leaned over to run his fingertips through the water, and she immediately lamented losing a clear view of his pelvic area. However, he soon stood, and the vision was restored to her. Powerful thighs. Hips encased in brawn. And, oh God, that cock. She wasn’t sure if he was even aroused, but if he wasn’t, she worried how big he’d get when fully stimulated. It had to be painful, carrying around that massive organ. Gioia stifled a cry. She could almost feel it inside her, sweeping into her, stretching her wider than she’d ever been stretched.

  Paul had been big too. Heck, she imagined all bear shifters were. But this was obscene. Soren was a monster. A lip-smacking, panty-drenching, mother-fucking monster.

  Drifting away on a fast-flowing jet stream of desire, Gioia watched him dive into the pool and touched herself again. As his powerful body sliced through the Olympic-sized pool in a punishing series of laps, Gioia slid her fingers between her lips and imagined Soren’s tongue there. Growing wetter by the second, she plucked and tickled her clit, and wondered what it would feel like to have him suck her to orgasm. Somehow, she just knew it would be mind-blowing. Her gaze pinned on his swift movements, trained on his white ass, highlighted as it was in the water. He looked like a water god frolicking in the sea, and she so wanted to be his lascivious nymph. She plunged her fingers into her pussy, desperate to create the sort of sensation he could with his cock, and knew she wouldn’t be able to emulate him. Even still, she rubbed and poked and brought herself to breaking point. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the image of Soren fucking her with abandon.

  And just as her orgasm was about to spill out of her on a hushed plaint, Gioia heard a noise on the balcony. Her eyes snapped open, and she removed her hand from between her legs. As her pulse raced, she saw the man. The unfamiliar man on her balcony, staring at her pussy.

  She closed her legs and opened her mouth to scream.

  He was too fast. He was a shifter of some sort. Of course he was fast. He clamped his hand onto her mouth to shut her up. His other hand landed between her legs, and he pried them open. “Now, now, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Don’t stop on my account. Why don’t I help you out?”

  As he removed his hand from her mouth and plunged his tongue in, she let out a muffled scream.

  * * * *

  Soren burst out of the pool, splashing water all around. Was he hearing things? He sniffed the air. He knew that scent. He’d know it anywhere. It was Gioia. And she’d screamed.

  He launched himself out of the pool and stood still in the evening air
, sniffing for her direction. There was a shuffling noise on one of the balconies above him. And her scent was coming from there too.

  She was in trouble.

  He’d come back for his clothes later. He knew there was no time to waste. Eyeing the side of the lodge, Soren picked a route. Not caring who he woke up in the process, he jumped onto the first balcony ledge and hoisted himself up to the next level. His bare legs and arms scraped badly against the concrete edges, but he didn’t care. Scrapes were nothing if his mate was being threatened. Clambering up the next couple of levels like an enraged gorilla, Soren reached the fourth floor. The balcony he needed was a few doors down. He jumped onto the balcony ledge once more, taking care not to fall into the spaces between, and vaulted over to the next balcony and then the next.

  When he reached Gioia’s balcony, he saw the patio door was open. And just inside, a man was on top of his woman.

  His mate.

  The loser was wedged between her perfect legs and had released his dick, so close to raping her. Gioia had squeezed her eyes shut but was pounding the hell out of the man. Good girl. Still, she was human and no match for the shifter’s strength.

  Soren, however, was only too happy to take him on.

  He grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck and hauled him off her. Stunned, the dude took a swing for him. Soren ducked, clenched his fist, and struck him, pulverizing the man’s nose. The shifter’s eyes fell back into his weaving head, and he fell to the floor in a limp heap.

  Panting, Soren turned to Gioia, who was still lying on the floor on the floor. Her eyes still wedged shut, she fought back as he touched her. “Get off me,” she cried.

  “Gioia! Baby, it’s me,” he soothed her as he knelt by her head. “It’s just me.”

  She pried her eyes open. “Soren?”

  At the sound of her cracked voice, his heart melted. He gathered her to him and cradled her in his arms. Her halted breaths made him want to cry. Her fear made him want to rage. And if she hadn’t been there, he was sure he would have killed the other man.

  Holding her had a tranquilizing effect on him. His heartbeat regulated, and the lump in his throat dissipated. Caressing her all over, he breathed her in. Peachy, vanilla splendor that put stars in his eyes.

  He loved this woman already. And it felt good.

  Cocooned in the warmth of their embrace, it startled him when she pulled away. She glanced at his nude body in wonder but cringed at the bloody tracks he’d received while doing the monkey-climb to her room.

  “You’re bleeding,” she whispered, touching a gentle finger to a small wound on his leg.

  “I don’t care.” He darted an angry glance at the still-unconscious man. “He hurt you. I’ll kill the fuckwad.”

  She put a finger on his chin and turned his face to her. “No, you won’t. But would you stay with me tonight?”

  Soren cupped her face and nodded, completely lost in her caring eyes. She might not know it, but he’d stay with her every night from now on.

  Chapter 7

  Much later, wearing one of the robes from Gioia’s bathroom, Soren watched security leave with the shifter who’d attacked her. The man was mystified upon regaining consciousness. Clearly the pheromones had been at work, turning a sane man into a monster. When he’d heard how he’d almost raped Gioia, he was devastated. Soren didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone so apologetic or terrified of getting locked in the slammer.

  He’d let Ry’s shifter police friends deal with him. If he dealt with the man, there wouldn’t be anything left of him.

  Soren knew he couldn’t wait any longer to tell Gioia about her new-found power over men.

  Gunnar, sleeping as heavily as Soren used to when he was that age, was still quiet in his part of the suite. She’d checked on him, had smoothed the hair off his brow and kissed him, and had closed the door between their rooms. Now, as they were left completely alone, she turned to him and Soren opened his arms to her.

  It was where she belonged.

  She flew to him. He picked her up and carried her to the bed, where he held her on his lap. He kissed the apples of her cheeks and stroked her through her T-shirt. His T-shirt, he thought with a smile. It made him unreasonably happy to think she’d chosen to wear his old shirt to bed.

  She nuzzled against him. “You’re my hero.”

  “I’d rescue you anytime.” His lips twitched in a crooked smile. “As long as my heart doesn’t give out. I don’t think I could handle seeing you so vulnerable again.”

  She stared at him, as if wholly unsure of what to do next. “Soren…”

  “Gioia, you need to know something,” he said, brushing her curls from her face. “Ryland explained it to me, and I’ve been wanting to tell you. I should have told you sooner. What happened tonight is not your fault, but there is a reason for it.”

  “That being?”

  “The man who attacked you, he was…under a spell, you could say.”

  “He did seem dazed. Even before you turned his face inside out.”

  “He was.” He took a deep breath, remembering the all-too satisfying crack of his fist on the man’s head. “You wouldn’t know it, but because you never fully mated with your husband, because you’re not a shifter, there’s a scent clinging to you. A pheromone, Ryland called it. The pheromone is inviting unmated shifters to mate with you, whether you like it or not. It’s the reason you’ve been getting so much attention from men.”

  She snorted. “You mean it’s not my natural charm and wit?”

  He frowned. “As charming as you are, it’s the scent making men crazy around you. They can’t help themselves, and it seems to be getting worse. We have to be very careful.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t believe it. All my life, men have barely given me a second look. And now that I’m wearing some kind of hoochy cologne, I’m irresistible?”

  “Yeah, you are.” He smiled at her.

  “Damn. That explains why Wes is so keen to take over from Paul.”

  He pursed his lips. “Yeah, that’s just wrong.”

  “I always wondered if there would be some sort of repercussion to me not shifting.”

  “It is pretty unusual,” he concurred. “Why do you think it happened?”

  “Well, it’s just a theory, but I think it was because of Paul’s state of mind. He loved me, but maybe on some level his brain wasn’t capable of accepting me as his mate.”

  “Did he ever mark you?” And then Soren felt guilty, asking such a private question.

  “Mark me?”

  Damn, she didn’t know about marking. “Yes. A bear will always mark his mate before mating with her. He has to break her skin and leave a mark behind.”

  She raised a brow at him. “Sounds chauvinistic, if you ask me.”

  He grinned. “It just needs to be done. No bear in his right mind would want his woman out there without his mark on her.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Like putting a stamp on grade-A meat?”

  “Call it what you want,” he teased. And then he stroked her soft cheek, knowing her skin would bear his mark soon enough and that she’d be proud to wear it.

  She considered. “Paul never marked me. Maybe he didn’t realize. Or maybe he just didn’t want to.”

  He kissed her forehead, wanting to take her pain away. “I’m sure if he was in the right frame of mind, he would have taken care of you better.” Like I’ll take care of you. “Anyway, I’m not going to leave your side. I don’t want a repeat of tonight. It just about exploded my ticker to see you under that man.”

  Her eyes widened, and then they widened further. “Oh. I think I may have inadvertently aggravated the situation this evening.”

  “How? It’s not your fault. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  She blushed from brow to neckline, a delicious red that made him want to lick her all over and see if he could make her blush harder. “No, but I may have, um, fanned the flames a little on the balcony.” She looked at him from under h
er lashes. “I was out there. I saw you swimming.”

  “Really?” Well, well. “And did you like what you saw, my voyeuristic little owl?” Soren grinned from ear to ear, imagining Gioia watching him from above, getting all hot and bothered.

  She offered him the bashful smile he’d grown to love. The heat from her lap grew more intense then. He knew she was nude under his shirt, and her potent scent now slammed into his brain, taking him hostage. Christ, he could feel her juices on his leg.

  “I might have liked it a little.”

  He feathered his lips against hers, needing so badly to drink her in. “And what did you do?”

  She licked at the corner of his mouth, setting his body on fire. She whispered, “I touched myself.”

  Soren’s head raced. Oh, Jesus! Take me now! He had to have her. He flared his nostrils, drinking her in, wanting to claim every inch of her. And yet, some dude had jumped her tonight. How could he make a move now? He didn’t want to terrify her.

  “You won’t terrify me, Soren,” she revealed, her eyes blazing desire and sympathy.

  His jaw dropped. “You heard me?” Damn, their connection was already powerful. Mated shifters could speak telepathically, but for her to be able to hear him in her human state was rare indeed.

  She smiled, a beautiful smile that touched the outer reaches of his previously-untouched heart. “I did. I don’t know how.”

  He held her tight, never wanting to let go. “I know how.” He looked at her and smoothed his thumb over her bottom lip. “You’re my mate, Gioia. I knew it the first time I saw you. And I want you so much.”

  She stared at him, the slightest crease between her brows. “Your mate. I don’t know what to say.”