by Chant, Zoe
“No battle plan survives contact with the enemy,” Eli muttered darkly, but made no more protests.
Jackson fished in his pocket and offered Paisley an earbud. It was a miniature communication system he’d designed. They were nearly invisible when you stuck them in your ear. While you wore the earbud, you could hear the voices of anyone else wearing one, as well as the voices of anyone they were talking to. But only the person wearing the earbud could hear what was transmitted through it.
He and Eli were already wearing theirs, but Paisley had gone in without one. They’d experimented earlier, and discovered that the earbud wouldn’t stay in a cat’s ear.
“Stop fussing, Eli,” Jackson said. “We’ll be fine. Paisley, lead on.”
Paisley stuck the earbud in her ear, her green eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Don’t stare at my ass.”
“I’m not sure I can honestly make that promise,” Jackson confessed.
Paisley made a noise that sounded remarkably like an angry cat, then sank down into the manhole.
Jackson stared into the gaping black hole. He wasn’t big on small, dark, enclosed places, but he hadn’t wanted to admit it in front of Paisley. He especially didn’t want to admit it when she had Eli, the manliest man ever, to compare him to. Jackson took a step forward, gritting his teeth.
“Hey.” A big, strong hand clapped his shoulder.
Jackson expected Eli to either encourage him or tease him— Eli knew all about his feelings about squeezing into narrow tunnels— but to Jackson’s surprise, Eli lowered his voice to say, “I just wanted to let you know that if anything happens between you and Paisley, it’s fine with me.”
“In a ventilation duct?” Jackson whispered back, teasingly. More seriously, he added, “Thanks, but nothing’s going to happen. If she was going to start with just one of us, it’d be you.”
Before Eli could argue, Jackson took a deep breath, braced himself, and stepped into the darkness of the manhole.
It closed over him like a coffin lid. He climbed down a ladder by feel, then, following Paisley’s directions, up a whole sequence of them. Jackson was in good shape, but he was sweating by the time he hit the ventilation ducts.
“Here we go,” he muttered, then began to wriggle on his belly through a chilly, narrow tunnel. Paisley went ahead of him, but moved so smoothly that he couldn’t even hear her.
The cold walls rubbed against his sides, his hips, his shoulders, his back. He swallowed, his palms prickling with sweat. The weight of a hundred tons of metal pressed down on him.
“Hey.” Paisley’s clear voice echoed slightly. “Your breathing sounds funny. Is something wrong?”
He forced his voice to stay level. “I’m not so big on enclosed spaces.”
Paisley didn’t respond. Jackson bet she was wishing she wasn’t the destined mate of a guy who was bothered by ventilation ducts. He would have prayed for the earth to swallow him up, except that it pretty much already had.
Something soft poked his shoulder. He jumped, as much as he could when he was wriggling on his belly. Then he realized that it was Paisley’s moccasin-shod foot.
“What are you big on?” she asked. “That town you and Eli are from— what’s it like?”
“Small,” Jackson replied. “There’s one main road. It’s got a bank, a gas station, a market, a diner... That’s pretty much it.”
“What’s your favorite thing at the diner?”
Jackson wriggled forward again as he answered. “It has fantastic venison hash. And wild berry pie. It’s owned by husband and wife bear shifters, and bears like to forage.”
“What sort of wild berries?”
“Every kind. I’ve had blueberry, blackberry, raspberry, strawberry, huckleberry, gooseberry, bunchberry, dewberry, snozzberry—”
“That’s from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory,” Paisley said immediately. “You’re pulling my leg.”
Do I dare? Jackson thought. Well, there’s no window for her to leap out of...
He reached forward blindly, found Paisley’s ankle, and pulled it. “You got me.”
To his relief, she only gave a snort of exasperated amusement. “The berry pies are real, though, right? What’s your favorite?”
Jackson thought about it. “Cloudberry.”
“Is that real?” Paisley asked suspiciously.
“Completely,” Jackson assured her.
“I never even heard of them.”
“City girl,” he teased. “You’re missing out.”
“What do they taste like?”
“Apples and honey, but tart. Like some kinds of white wine. Maybe a dry Reisling. Oh, and the diner also makes a sort of organic popcorn out of bear berries.”
Paisley’s laugh echoed in the darkness. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. Bear berries are real. They’re bright red, and if you dry them and then fry them, they pop like popcorn. They’re not a taste sensation,” Jackson admitted. “They’re a bit bland and mealy. I just like the name. And knowing that they exist, and people gather them in the woods to pop them. The world is full of amazing things.”
“Your hometown sounds full of amazing things.”
“It is. But it’s not home because of the things, you know? It could be some crappy, cookie-cutter suburb, and I’d feel the same way about it. It’s where the people who love me are. That’s what makes it home.”
Paisley’s sigh echoed against the metal walls. “Guess I haven’t had a home since I was ten.”
She sounded so lonely and sad that Jackson was overwhelmed with the desire to comfort her. He spoke from the heart, without thinking. “I’d give you a home. I love you.”
“Don’t say that!” Paisley burst out. “It’s way too soon! We’ve known each other for one week. And you promised not to.”
Eli had been silent up until then, but his exasperated voice came over the earbud. “Dammit, Jackson!”
Eli said not to be pushy, Jackson thought. So what did I do? I pushed her. I pushed her hard. Dammit is right.
“Sorry, Paisley,” Jackson said. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.”
It’s true, though, he thought.
“It just slipped out,” he added when she didn’t reply. “I won’t mention it again.”
Paisley still didn’t reply. A long, uncomfortable silence fell.
While he was still searching for a change of subject, he saw a white light ahead. As he kept wriggling forward, the darkness brightened until he could see Paisley’s moccasin-shod feet and black jean-clad ass.
“Almost there,” Paisley whispered. A moment later, she added, “You’re staring at my ass, aren’t you?”
“You can stare at mine on the way out.”
Paisley snorted. He heard a series of clinking noises as she opened a trapdoor in the shaft, then jumped down. She landed so lightly, she barely made a sound.
Jackson dropped through after her, landing with a loud thud. They were in an empty, brightly lit, high-tech office. His kind of place. He took a deep breath. It was good to be able to breathe freely, and to have nothing touching him but air.
He wiped the sweat off his face and turned to Paisley. In her all-black outfit, she looked like a gorgeous, green-eyed ninja.
“Thanks for distracting me,” he said. “I owe you. I owe you... a snozzberry pie.”
“There’s no such thing.”
“Okay, a cloudberry pie.”
She gave him a fleeting smile. “I might hold you to that.”
He wanted to say more and maybe be rewarded with her lovely smile again, but he was on the job. And also, he was afraid that if he kept talking about promises, he might blurt out something about mates or love or forever.
Jackson sat down at the main computer, and began hacking in.
Chapter Three
Paisley
Paisley kept one eye on the door and one on Jackson. She’d have thought watching a guy do computer stuff would be boring, but Jackson hacking was the
most entertaining thing Paisley had seen all week. Maybe all month. For one thing, he was good to look at: his warm brown eyes, his expressive face, his playful smile, the muscles shifting in his broad shoulders, and his deft fingers flying over the keyboard like a virtuoso pianist.
For another thing, he talked, partly to the computer but mostly to her. She’d worried that he’d start pressuring her again about love and soulmates, but to her relief, he didn’t. Instead, he explained what he was doing. He told jokes. He told stories. He asked about her life. He quizzed her on her favorite books and movies and video games.
Paisley had never had any real friends— how could she, knowing that she was a freak, the only werecat in the world— so she wasn’t used to having conversations. She’d always thought she wasn’t good at talking to people. But Jackson made it easy. Fun, even.
“What’s your favorite pie?” Jackson asked, then muttered at the computer, “Oh, no you don’t! Not again!”
“Pecan,” Paisley replied, wondering if he was paying attention. He seemed engaged in a desperate battle against a computer program.
“Warm or cold?” Jackson inquired. “Plain, with ice cream, with chocolate sauce, with cheddar cheese...?”
So he was paying attention. “Gross. Who puts cheese on pie? Warm, with whipped cream. You’re good at multi-tasking.”
“Yeah, that’s my specialty.” To the computer, he exclaimed, “Ha! Got you there.” Then he pushed back his chair and turned to Paisley. “Okay, Eli. Conference call time.”
Eli’s deeper voice spoke in Paisley’s ear, through the earbud Jackson had given her. “What’s your status?”
Jackson leaned back in his chair, relaxed and cool. “Good news first: I’ve broken into their databanks, and I’m downloading everything. I’ve blanked out their security cameras. I’ve also got a program running that’ll take down the laser tripwires and unlock the service entrance. Then I can direct you to Research and Development.”
“What’s the bad news?” Eli asked.
“The program that’ll get you in won’t be complete for another hour. So sit tight in the alley. Enjoy the eau de garbage.”
Jackson took out his earbud and put it on the table. He gestured to Paisley for her to do the same. She pulled it from her ear, cutting off Eli’s chuckle, and laid it down.
Her eyes met Jackson’s. Eli had been a presence with them up until that point. He’d rarely spoken, but she’d always known he was there with them, listening in case something went wrong. Now she and Jackson were alone.
There had barely been a moment of quiet since she’d met him in the alley, so the silence now caught her attention. It wasn’t an empty silence, a silence that meant nothing was going on; it was a silence like cat paws moving across a floor, a silence that meant that something was about to happen.
I shouldn’t do this, Paisley thought.
Her hand reached out of its own accord.
Jackson took it and held it between both of his, enveloping her small hand in his long, graceful fingers. The warmth of his fingers didn’t stop at her hand, but flowed through her entire body. She could feel her skin flushing, as if she stood in front of a fire. Pleasant little tingles of excitement shivered through her, making her heart speed up and her breath catch.
She knew he wanted to kiss her, even before he began to lean in. She tipped her head back, her lips parted, inviting him. Paisley heard Jackson’s own breath catch as he bent down. His lips touched hers, and then it wasn’t like standing in front of a fire, it was like standing in a fire. She wanted to become the flame, and burn forever.
Paisley didn’t know how long they stood kissing, until they broke apart to take a breath. Then she abruptly remembered her resolve not to get involved, not to trust in happy endings, not to get close—
“Eli won’t mind,” Jackson said, startling her.
“I know,” Paisley replied. “I heard him tell you so.”
“You did?”
Paisley nodded. “You had your earbud out, but he was wearing his. And I was wearing mine. Anyway, that’s not what I was thinking about.”
“Then what? What’s bothering you?”
Paisley sighed. “Mates. Destiny. Happily ever after. I don’t believe in any of it.”
Jackson’s warm hands cupped her face, rubbing at her temples to ease a tension that she hadn’t even noticed herself. “How about if we forget about all that? How about if we imagine that it’s just you and me, right now, deciding whether we want to go ahead and have some fun with the amazing sexual chemistry we obviously have together? Or if you’d rather, we could sit around fully clothed and talk about our favorite pies.”
“How about sexual chemistry first, and pie discussion afterward?”
“You’re a woman after my own heart.” He paused, frowning as if he’d remembered something. “Oh... I don’t have a condom. Too bad.”
“What, you don’t always break into the headquarters of evil corporations prepared to have sex on the floor?” Paisley teased. “Don’t worry about it, Jackson. I’m on the pill.”
“Great!” He caught her in his arms again.
Paisley burned with desire, as hot and overwhelming as when she’d first touched his hand. She didn’t know what it all meant or where it would lead, but she knew that she couldn’t resist him. Now that they were touching at last, she couldn’t believe she’d managed to keep her hands off him for as long as she had.
If he wanted her even half as much as she wanted him, he must be halfway out of his mind. She expected him to rip her clothes off. But instead, he slowly pulled off her shirt, kissing and caressing each part of her body as he exposed it. Then her bra. The room was air-conditioned and chilly, which made the heat of Jackson’s mouth even more intense. Her nipples hardened under his tongue. Each lick, each nibble, each kiss sent tingles of pleasure through her.
“You’re so beautiful,” Jackson murmured. “So hot.”
Paisley had heard that before. But it was the first time that it mattered to her what a man thought about her. She wanted Jackson to think she was gorgeous and sexy, and she loved hearing him say it.
“And so funny,” he went on. “So brave. So sweet.”
Paisley blinked at “sweet.” She hadn’t heard that before. But he sounded completely sincere. And that, too, made her happy. Somehow, caring had snuck up on her.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said, trying not to sound too caring.
She must not have done a very good job at sounding unconcerned. Jackson grinned as if she’d paid him the best compliment ever.
Paisley shied away from more talking. Who knew what she might blurt out? Besides, she wanted to touch him. She unbuttoned his shirt and ran her hands over his smooth skin and lean muscle.
Then, as he had, she bent to kiss and nibble at him. His skin tasted slightly of salt. This close, she could smell his woodsy cologne, like the forests of his hometown, and a masculine musk. His scent went to her head like a shot of whiskey, making her dizzy.
Jackson pushed her back, so she was leaning against the desk, then knelt down in front of her. He pulled off her moccasins, then her pants, and finally stripped off her underwear. Paisley stood naked before him. She could still feel the heat of his mouth everywhere that he’d touched, burning in her memory.
His breath stirred her skin as he leaned in. Paisley was trembling with desire, barely able to wait for his touch. When he finally laid his mouth down on her, she was so keyed up that she jumped.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Don’t stop,” she gasped.
Jackson tasted her again. This time she managed to hold herself still, though the sensation was just as intense as before. His tongue explored her every fold, leaving her breathless. She grabbed his shoulders, feeling their muscles flex under her hands. Then Paisley felt nothing else, not the desk behind her or the floor under her feet. There was only Jackson’s smooth skin and hot tongue and her own ecstasy.
“You taste like honey,�
� Jackson murmured.
Paisley couldn’t reply. She was shuddering and gasping, lost in pleasure. Dizzy with it. Then it all crashed over her, like a burst of light. She had to hang on to his broad shoulders to keep herself upright.
Limp and relaxed, she sank down into his arms. He lowered her to the floor and held her tight, kissing her and stroking her hair.
“That was amazing,” Paisley said.
“Glad I could do better than ‘not so bad,’” he teased.
Paisley laughed. “Let’s see if you can do better than amazing. Take off your pants.”
Jackson scrambled out of them like he was being timed with a stop watch. His eagerness made her laugh again, and he laughed with her.
“Sex is usually so serious,” she remarked.
“Doesn’t have to be,” Jackson replied. “I lo— uh, I like a woman I can laugh with.”
“I like men who laugh,” Paisley said, realizing that it was true as she spoke.
She had always felt a little detached, a little distant from other people. Even in the middle of sex, she hadn’t felt truly close. It was just a very enjoyable physical experience. But for the first time in her life, when she moved in to press her body against Jackson’s, skin to skin, she felt no barrier between them.
She couldn’t resist saying, “I like you.”
“Feeling’s mutual,” Jackson said easily.
They lay together, kissing and caressing each other, side by side. Then Jackson moved over her. His cock pressed against her mound, iron-hard. She squirmed, rubbing herself against him. If she’d been a cat, she’d have purred.
“Ready?” Jackson asked softly, cupping her cheek in one warm hand.
Paisley smiled, her breath coming fast. “Never been readier. Bring it on.”
He raised himself over her, resting his weight on his elbows. Then he cupped his hands under her head, so she had a pillow to protect her from the bare hard floor. She turned her head, nibbling and kissing his fingers. He stroked her lips with a feather-light touch.
Jackson slid inside her like a key clicking into a lock. Like they’d been made for each other.