She felt kind of stupid following him like this—instead of walking right up to him, introducing herself, and taking care of business like a reasonable adult—but not stupid enough to change her approach. She told herself she was taking a few minutes to build up her courage before taking the plunge. She just wished she were naive enough to believe it.
She would have to speak to him eventually, of course. It would be difficult to deliver the message otherwise. What she needed was an appropriate ice breaker.
Okay, so how about, Excuse me, Mr. De Santos? I have some information you might be interested in.
No. Too Jehovah’s Witness.
Um … Hey, are you Rafael De Santos, the famous werejaguar and leader of the Council of Others?
Nope. Too Bellevue escapee.
Mr. De Santos, I come bearing an urgent message from the High Authority of the Witches’ Council.
Ugh! Too sci-fi B movie.
Hm, maybe, Mr. De Santos, my name is Tess Menzies, and I’m—oof!
The “oof!” was never intended to be part of the speech, but it’s what burst out of her mouth when two hundred and some-odd pounds of male muscle barreled into her from the side and drove her deep into a service alley halfway down the street.
Before she had time to yell Fire!—and she called herself a native New Yorker—she was pressed flat against the brick wall of one of the adjacent buildings with her hands yanked over her head and six feet of man pinning her in place.
“Who are you, and why the hell have you been following me?”
His growl rumbled through her with a menace she could feel down in her bones, and she knew instinctively that if he’d given her a full-fledged roar, she’d be fighting for control of her bladder right about now. Even so, his efforts would probably have made a normal person cry. The man had intimidation down to an art. He projected pure rage and menace, and the snarl he rumbled out right up against her face did manage to make her take a hearty gulp, but she rallied quickly and dealt with the situation the way she always did: She brazened through it.
“Sheesh.” She managed to get it out without squeaking and congratulated herself. “If you usually come on to women this strongly, I have to wonder that you ever get a date.”
What the hell are you doing? a voice inside her demanded.
I have absolutely no idea, she answered.
He snarled again. Lower this time. More menacing. “I said, who the hell are you?”
“I heard you.” She swallowed a knot of fear and lifted her chin. “I just didn’t think it was any of your business.”
His expression, which she could see clearly, given its current location about a nanometer away from hers—he had really great skin, she noticed, all smooth and even and bronze—turned incredulous.
“Pardon me? Unless I’m very much mistaken—and I know I’m not—you’ve been tailing me for three blocks. That makes your name, rank, serial number, and intentions very much my business.”
She forced a carefree grin and watched his golden eyes blaze. She hoped he wouldn’t notice the panic lurking in hers.
“Well, my name is Tess, my rank is absolutely nothing, I’m horrible with numbers, and my intentions are a little too complicated to explain to you in a dark alley. Plus, I generally talk with my hands, and you’re currently making that a wee bit difficult.”
He snarled. “I have no time for smart-aleck retorts. Why are you following me?”
She blinked up at him with wide blue eyes that generally made men smile at her indulgently while telling her to let them handle things and not worry her pretty little head. “Well, I thought that would be obvious. I wanted to know where you were going.”
He was ignoring the eyes.
How could he ignore the eyes?
“Not good enough. Explain. Now.”
Tess blinked, her mouth curving into the standard plan B pout. “That’s the truth. I wanted to know where you were going. You know, for someone with such a reputation for being a ladies’ man, you could use a little work on your manners.”
“My manners are fine when I’m with a lady. I’m not entirely sure you qualify.”
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that in my experience, ladies don’t follow men through deserted streets at two thirty in the morning. That’s what criminals and cowards do.”
The pout had clearly failed as miserably as the big blue eyes, and suddenly Tess felt a lot less confident about her plan C. It didn’t seem to be working. At all. Instead of simultaneously being smitten with her 1940s pin-up girl looks and completely underestimating both her intelligence and her character, the werecat appeared to be pissed off at her. His exotic amber eyes looked hard and impatient, and his sensual mouth looked tight and unamused. This was not the sort of reaction she was used to getting from men.
Shifting nervously, she tried tugging her hands free, but his grip only tightened. She gave a hard yank, and he responded with a low warning growl. Before she could seriously give in to panic and start struggling, he leaned into her and used his body to keep her immobile against the cold brick wall.
“Your explanation. Now.”
Tess swallowed hard. It was about the only movement she could make. He kept her hands pinned above her head, and now his chest crushed her flat while his hips pressed tightly against hers, rendering her completely immobile. She could feel the way he bent his legs to even out their heights, because those legs crowded against hers to keep her still. She couldn’t move a damned muscle, which meant she also couldn’t cast any damned spells. She was helpless. Time for plan D: the truth.
Just not too much of it.
“I already explained, sort of. I was supposed to wait for you outside Vircolac until you came out. Then I was supposed to deliver a message and leave. But I got curious to see where you were going in the wee hours of the morning.”
She made her tone and expression sullen, as if she had given in reluctantly. Which she had, so that could go in the truth column.
“If you hadn’t jumped me, you’d never have known I was following you. I was just going to see if you were going to a nightclub or something. I’ve never been to one and thought it would be fun to see where the cool ones are. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
That last part was, perhaps, fodder for the second column.
“What message?”
“Don’t ask me. It’s written down in a sealed envelope. It’s not like I read it or anything.”
That one, too.
She saw his nostrils flare as he inhaled deeply. His eyes narrowed. “You’re lying. I can smell it on you.” He paused, then inhaled again, leaning in a little until Tess’s breath caught in her throat. “I can smell something else, too. There’s something…” Another sniff. “… different about you.”
Tess felt her eyes widen before she caught herself. “Well, I showered right before I left home,” she joked weakly, trying to shift even an inch away from him. “If you can smell me, I think I need to switch soaps.”
He didn’t appear to be listening. Instead he leaned forward and pressed his face into the curve of her neck. She froze as her stomach clenched. She felt the stir of his breath against her skin and choked on a swift shock of arousal. Apparently, her body hadn’t forgotten its first impression of him. It remembered quite clearly how attracted she’d been. And it chose now to remind her.
“That’s not it,” he muttered, and she could feel the movement of his lips as he spoke. “You smell … different…” Sniff. “Exotic…” Sniff … “Powerful…” Sniff, sniff. Then the dart of a tongue that rasped against her throat. Her knees quivered. “Other.”
His head turned, and Tess found herself staring into golden eyes that blazed with impossible heat above a mouth drawn thin in accusation.
“You smell like a witch.”
Tess stared up into those amber eyes and felt her first wave of fear. Suddenly she remembered that this man wasn’t just a man. He was a Felix—an Alpha werecat—and
the most powerful Feline in the history of the city. If he wanted, he could tear out her throat with a swipe of his finger. With the tension radiating off him, she was no longer sure he didn’t intend to do just that.
“Well? Are you a witch?” He asked it in that rasping growl and shook her by the hands he held pinned. “You aren’t human. I can smell it.”
“You smell wrong.” She could feel how wide her eyes had grown, but this time it wasn’t a ploy. It was fear. “I am human. My name is Tess Menzies.”
He pressed his nose against the hollow below her ear and inhaled. She had to bite back a moan as her womb clenched. Never in her life had she reacted to a man like this.
Shit, her timing sucked.
“You’re not. Humans smell … muddy. Thick. You smell clear. Sweet. Spicy.” Again that tongue, rasping like damp sandpaper across her skin. “Taste that way, too. Not human at all.”
Fear prodded her into temper. “Eaten many humans, have you?”
She felt his mouth shift into a grin.
“A few here and there.” He paused. Nuzzled. Purred softly, “Want me to eat you?”
That sensual, amused question had nothing to do with consumption, but a hell of a lot to do with sex. Sheesh. Did the man usually come on to women when he had them pinned against the wall during an interrogation?
The image brought a flood of moisture between her legs, and she cursed.
“Hmm, smells like you like the idea.” A lazy stroke of the tongue. The soft, delicate scrape of teeth. “I’d love to taste that cream I can smell. I bet it’s thick and rich and hot.”
His legs shifted, forced hers apart. He settled between them until she could feel the ridge of an impressive erection nestling against her mound.
“I’d like to lap it all up. And I will. Just as soon as you answer my question.”
“Qu—question?”
Her stammer made him chuckle, and she gritted her teeth.
“Yes, question.” He nuzzled the sweet spot below her ear and pressed his hips against hers when she tried to squirm away. “The one where I asked if you’re a witch.”
If he really wanted to know what she was, horny was the most honest answer she could come up with, but she didn’t feel inclined to share that little tidbit.
If she were smart, she wouldn’t be sharing any of her tidbits with this man. He was trouble.
“I told you,” she gritted out, “my name is Tess, and I’m as human as the next person.”
“Considering the next person at the moment is not human at all, that fails to convince me of anything.”
This time when she experienced the scrape of his teeth, she could feel the elongated canines, and she squeaked. He didn’t sink them into her flesh, and she didn’t expect him to, but the message was clear. He was far from human and far from civilized, no matter what he looked like on the surface.
“It’s the truth.”
He pulled back then and stared down at her with eyes that had gone molten. Even in the darkness, she could see the way his pupils had elongated to feline slits.
“You are very stubborn, and very wrong. Also very unsurprised to find a man with fangs and cat’s eyes pinning you up against an alley wall. Would you care to explain why?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Not really.”
“Do it anyway.”
Stalling for time seemed like her best bet. Well, honestly, it seemed about as hopeless as anything else, but it made her feel better. “How about you let go of my hands first and give me some breathing room? This Spanish Inquisition thing is getting kind of uncomfortable.”
“I find it very comfortable indeed,” he purred, shifting his hips to press his erection harder against her. “The way you breathe now is positively entrancing, room or no room. But if you truly wish to be free, I suggest you begin to cooperate.”
Tess had never taken suggestions very well. “Or what? You’ll beat the answers out of me?”
He shifted his grip, transferring both her wrists to one of his large hands, and though she redoubled her efforts, she still couldn’t break that grip.
“Hm, would you like that, sweet Tess? Would you like it if I turned you over my knee, bared that lovely bottom to the moonlight, and turned it pink and glowing with the weight of my hand?” His free hand slid around her back and cupped her bottom, kneading the muscle and making her quiver. “Would you like that, gatita?”
Christ. Although she’d never been into bondage, the mental image caused an unexpected jolt in her pussy. She ignored it and concentrated on not wrapping her legs around his waist. “Trust a man to resort to violence.”
“Only if it pleases you, sweetheart.”
“What would please me is you letting me go!”
That damned chuckle again. “Ah, but that would not please me, sweet Tess, and since I am currently the one in control here, it is my wish that counts.”
Tess harrumphed. “And isn’t that just like a man?”
“Or like a beast.” His eyes flashed, and his gaze slid to her lips. “And you know the truth about beasts and beauties, don’t you? The beasts always take what they want and damn the consequences.”
Her only warning was a flash of gold before his head dipped, and his mouth settled hot and hungry over hers.
Two
Rafe purred his approval at the first taste of her. Rich and sweet, it made him want to lap her up like whipping cream. Her lips parted readily beneath his, probably more from shock than desire, but he pressed his advantage. His tongue slid inside to tease and taste, exploring her flavors and textures like a mapmaker charting new territory. She was more than he had expected, and the power of her threatened to swamp his senses.
He leaned into her, acquainting his body with hers, learning the heat and scent and curve of her. He felt the tension in her muscles and the subtle yielding in her lips as they began to cling to his.
Christ, she tasted good. Her flavor seemed to deepen with each hungry sip, flooding through him and feeding his arousal.
He’d thought at first it was just reflex. When he’d felt himself begin to harden against her hips, he’d written it off as a natural and unavoidable reaction to his proximity to an attractive woman. After all, she’d been pressed up against him like a lover, and he had a healthy sex drive. It was only natural.
What wasn’t natural was the way her scent wrapped around him, teasing him with that indefinable foreign quality that had piqued his curiosity. It tickled the edges of his brain like a forgotten memory, an indefinable something that he should recognize, whatever it might be. He felt like he knew what it was if he could just concentrate …
Then she whimpered against his mouth, and he felt his curiosity fading. It didn’t matter who she was. Didn’t matter that her scent was getting stronger as her arousal flared, getting muskier, hotter, smelling more intensely of magic—
The thought slammed the door on his libido.
Magic. Witch. Liar.
He wrenched his mouth away from hers and snarled. “Damn you. Tell me who the hell you are. What kind of witch are you?”
His question startled a laugh out of her, curving those kiss-swollen lips in surprise. “The regular kind, I guess. I didn’t know we came in thirty-one flavors.”
Damn, but he’d like to taste every flavor she did come in.
He stuffed the thought down and lifted his body away from temptation. “So I was right.”
She must have read the skepticism in his face, because she shrugged and scowled. “It’s not like I was lying. Just because I’m a witch doesn’t mean I’m not human.”
He wasn’t in the mood to debate her. He’d lived among humans all his life. He knew how they smelled, how they tasted, and he knew she was different.
“So tell me why you were following me. What does a witch want with a shapeshifter in a dark alley in the middle of the night?” Unable to resist, he leaned forward to nuzzle the rapid pulse at the base of her throat. “Aside from the obvious.”
“I’m
not the one who forced us into the alley, Einstein, so why don’t you tell me?”
He felt her struggles, but he also heard the barely audible hitch in her breathing and knew her confrontational facade was an act. “I asked first.”
“Oh, and this is suddenly the third grade? Fine. Like I said, I was following you.”
He lowered his head to snarl at her and noticed how she licked her lips and jerked away. So his little Tess didn’t want his kisses? Or maybe she didn’t want to want them. He smiled.
“I knew you were following me, sweet Tess.” He bent his head, nuzzled the line of her jaw, flicked his tongue out to taste her skin. “Now I want to know why.”
He felt her jaw clench under his tongue. “I already told you, I was supposed to deliver a message, and I got curious.”
The hand on her ass shifted, squeezed. “And why would you have any kind of message for me, sweet Tess? You don’t even know me, do you?”
She snorted, the sound less than elegant but very clear. “Your name appears in the papers so often, you practically have your own section. I doubt there’s a person in Manhattan who doesn’t know you.”
He digested that as he flicked his tongue against her earlobe. She quivered in his arms. “You may be right. But with all those people who know who I am, very few of them have ever tried tailing me through the streets in the middle of the night. Unless they planned to mug me. Were you planning to mug me?”
“Were you planning to check yourself into Bellevue?”
“I didn’t think so.” He’d get the truth out of her eventually. Even if he had to keep her here for hours.
He nuzzled her ear, inhaling that intoxicating scent. Days even.
His hand stroked her truly fine ass through a layer of snug denim. No sign of a panty line. Did she wear a thong? Or nothing at all.
Maybe weeks.
Drive Me Wild (The Others) Page 2