by Jessie Lane
Jessie Lane
Walk On The Striped Side
Big Bad Bite Series #2
by Jessie Lane
Edited by C&D Editing
Cover Art by Jessie Lane
Published by Jessie Lane
Copyright © 2014 by Jessie Lane
The purchase of this e-book allows you one legal copy for your own personal reading enjoyment on your personal computer or device. You do not have the rights to resell, distribute, print, or transfer this book, in whole or in part, to anyone, in any format, via methods either currently known or yet to be invented, or upload to a file sharing peer to peer program. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. If you no longer want this book, you may not give your copy to someone else. Delete it from your computer. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Dedication
To my author wives: Chelsea Camaron, Amelia Hutchins and Milly Taiden,
Thank you for all of your love and support. I consider myself a blessed woman to have met all three of you and have you in my life. Here’s hoping we have many years of friendship to look forward to! XOXO, C
Acknowledgements
First and foremost I’d like to thank our readers. It’s because of you that I’m able to write my crazy stories and live my dream. So THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart.
This book was a lot of ups and downs and my beta readers were the absolute back bone of getting it done. Thank you Laura at Little Read Riding Hood, Chelsea Camaron and Iris at Paranormal Cravings for all of your hard work! I’d offer you my first born as a token of my appreciation, but you all would just ship her back to me anyways.
And, as always, thank you to the ladies of C&D Editing who polish my literary babies until they shine. Readers everywhere (and myself) appreciate you kicking my grammatical ass so to speak.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER-ONE
CHAPTER-TWO
CHAPTER-THREE
CHAPTER-FOUR
CHAPTER-FIVE
CHAPTER-SIX
CHAPTER-SEVEN
CHAPTER-EIGHT
CHAPTER-NINE
CHAPTER-TEN
CHAPTER-ELEVEN
CHAPTER-TWELEVE
CHAPTER-THIRTEEN
CHAPTER-FOURTEEN
CHAPTER-FIFTEEN
CHAPTER-SIXTEEN
CHAPTER-SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER-EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER-NINETEEN
CHAPTER-TWENTY
CHAPTER-TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER-TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER-TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER-TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER-TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER-TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER-TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER-TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER-TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER-THIRTY
EPIOLGUE
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
SNEEK PEEK (THE DEMON WHO LOVED ME) BY JESSIE LANE
PLAYLIST
MORE FROM JESSIE LANE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
FROM OUR FRIENDS
CHAPTER-ONE
March 2010 - Fort Bragg Army Base, North Carolina
Gage
“What do you mean I can’t pick up my weapon?”
Gage Ivanov was in no mood to be fucked with by the woman looking blankly back at him from the other side of the desk that separated them. One would think he’d be in a better mood. He’d finally caught up on some desperately needed sleep after being awake 48 hours for a mission. This was not the case. If anything, he felt as if he was approximately 3.2 seconds from flipping his shit. Which would involve tearing the door off of the Fort Bragg Military Police’s inner sanctum, stalking past the annoying female with a tantalizing scent that was starting to drive him insane, and collecting his Heckler & Koch MK 23 his damn self from the evidence room. Screw the harpy for saying he couldn’t have his issued side arm back.
Taking a deep breath to try and battle his building anger, he blew it out slowly and decided to give the feeble human another chance before he did something drastic. Like pin her to a wall and kiss the ever living shit out of her.
Whoa.
Gage rubbed his forehead and wondered where the hell that crazy thought had come from? That idea was flat out ridiculous. He must be loopy still from lack of sleep. He’d probably meant that he’d pin her to the wall and scare the shit out of her. Not kiss her. Yeah. That sounded better.
Shaking his head to clear the crazy thoughts, he looked back to the female. Through his frustration he had to admit, she was unconventionally pretty. Most humans were short to his six foot five inch frame, but she seemed tall for her race. When she’d led him back to her desk to question him, past the front counter shielded by bulletproof glass that she’d greeted him at, he’d sized her up to be somewhere around five feet nine inches. She would be close to the perfect fit to rest his chin on the top of her head if he was holding her. However, she looked a bit on the thin side, and he usually liked women with ample curves. Some body parts should jiggle dammit. But at least she wasn’t anorexic skinny. More like athletically built. Next to his broad, brawny build she’d look downright tiny in size. Dressed in her camis, with her brown hair so dark it almost looked black, it was pulled back in a tight bun on the back of her head. Between the dark hair, the slightly olive tinged skin complexion, and her narrow almost aquiline nose, she more than likely had a Mediterranean background. Perhaps Italian or Greek.
He quickly noted that she had quite possibly the prettiest blue green eyes he’d seen in all of his two hundred and sixty-two years. Amazing eyes or no amazing eyes, nothing would stop him from giving her a dressing down that could go down in this Army’s history books if she didn’t hurry the hell up and give him back his weapon. He had better things to do with his time right now. Like sleep some more. Or make the short drive home so he could hunt down a deer on his property. Shifting into his tiger and using his claws and teeth to eat dinner sounded kind of perfect to assuage his bad mood.
The last time he’d been this mad at another soldier had been during the Russo-Persian War of 1804-1813. Back then he’d damn near torn apart a Commanding Officer of the Infantry with his claws for a tactical error that could have cost them the battle and too many men to count. Usually, Tigers were either too lazy or just didn’t care enough to get involved or get mad about something. But this female, with her clenched jaw and stubborn lines set around that mouth he couldn’t seem to stop looking at, was testing him. He looked down to her name tag stitched on to the front of her uniform to see just who the hell he was dealing with.
DEMOS.
The three stripes on her uniform also gave him her rank. “Look Sergeant Demos, I’m sure it was a simple mistake. My team just came in from a mission, we were all dog tired, and I probably left it on the Black Hawk, right? Although I don’t remember taking it out of my holster. I know it’s not acceptable to leave one’s weapon lying around, but let’s see how well you function after not catching some shut eye for two days. Let’s just say I’ve learned my lesson. It’ll never happen again. Now, give me whatever paperwork I need to sign saying that you’re relinquishing the weapon back into my possession and then
hand my weapon over.”
He flicked his fingers, palm side up and open, in a ‘hand it over’ gesture as he stared across the desk, trying to look as if he were patiently waiting. If he were hunting for his dinner, then patiently waiting would be fine. Otherwise, it was something he didn’t care to bother with. Why wait patiently for something when you could just flash a little fang and scare your opponent into giving you whatever it is you want? Except he couldn’t flash his canines here. And that only pissed him off more. When the female continued to sit stiff backed in her chair and stare at him like he was a moron, he felt his claws prick the insides of his skin. Begging to be released and do something to relieve his agitation. He had to hurry up and get the hell out of here. Snarling a little, he snapped at her. “If that simple task is in in some way, shape, or form too complicated for you to perform Sergeant, then perhaps your CO should send you back to your AIT school to re-take your training courses. Maybe while you’re there you can learn how to do something more complicated than annoying the shit out of your superiors.”
The scent of extreme anger rolled off the brunette. He really could care less that he’d made her mad. No, what was really starting to bother him was that the smell of her pissed off was even more appealing to him than the way she’d smelled before. Since he was currently battling the overwhelming urge to either go furry or sex her up as if he was hopped up on Viagra, it just irked him that this little human could do anything that would make him want her more than he already did.
The sound of her teeth grinding drew his attention back to those plump lips that were currently flattened into a thin line of irritation. “Sir, I cannot return your pistol to you because it has been formally confiscated pending an investigation. Your issued Heckler & Koch MK 23 was found in Major General Fetherman’s daughter’s bedroom.” The irritated woman held three fingers up and practically shoved them into his face. “Which means one of three possibilities. Either Ms. Fetherman managed to get into a secure area so that she could have access to the Black Hawk and found your gun there. Or, number two, you didn’t head straight to your premises for that shut eye you claimed to have been so desperate for. Instead, you met Ms. Fetherman somewhere and she took your weapon from you while you were otherwise pre-occupied since you don’t remember taking it out of your holster. One can only imagine what the two of you were doing that you would be so distracted for her to be able to procure your weapon without you having noticed.” She cocked an eyebrow at him in disgust. “Or, the third possibility is that perhaps you went to Major General Fetherman’s residence to meet with his daughter in her room where you accidentally left your weapon. Would you care to clarify which of these three scenarios is correct?” That dainty eyebrow came back down so she could shoot him a condescending look before she grudgingly added “Sir” onto the end of her rant. It was clear as day that she’d loathed giving him even that little bit of respect, and had done it only to keep her ass out of trouble.
Never mind how good she looked, or that she smelled like sex on a stick, he was going to bend this arrogant young woman over his lap and paddle her ass for talking to a higher ranking soldier like that. For talking to him like that. His tiger was going nuts underneath his skin. The need to exert his dominance over her, to show her just who the fuck was in charge here, was riding him hard. Harder than ever before. Which bothered him. Combine that with the insane urge to show her who the bigger predator was caused a niggling suspicion that there was more going on here than good old fashioned annoyance or the need to lose himself in a warm willing body.
Sucking on his teeth in extreme agitation he opted for denial. There was absolutely no way that this woman could be a possible mate. Surely fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to try and pair him off with a fragile human that could be easily killed. He wasn’t entirely sure, but the signs of compatibility were there. The natural pheromones to attract one mate to the other. His Tiger going wild inside of him.
He was going to choose to think that those pesky coincidences didn’t mean shit. Even better, he was going to ignore those signals in the name of self-preservation. He’d never wanted a human for a mate in the past, and that wasn’t changing over an intoxicating scent, a pair of unusually pretty eyes, and the need to fuck a better attitude into her. Nope, he’d rather be mate-less. Or settle for a mate that both his human and beast’s side didn’t crave with a dangerous intensity. He would rather find a mate they could grow to care for, and who would be something much sturdier than this very breakable human.
Since he wasn’t paying attention to her at the moment, he only distantly heard her say, “Helllllloo… Master Sergeant Ivanov? Are you sure you want to stick to that story about getting some sleep? Because you don’t seem to be all there upstairs to me.” Delicate fingers snapped in front of his face a couple of times, bringing his attention back to the object of his thoughts. As he looked at her impatient face he made a silent vow to himself. Mate possibility or no, if the disagreeable woman didn’t stop antagonizing him, he was going to break every unspoken rule in the supernatural Other community and unleash his claws on her backside. As his eyes zeroed in onto the unconscious nervous movement of the tip of her pink tongue swiping over her bottom lip, Gage thought. Claws and a good pop on the ass ought to scare some respect into her.
***
Elena
Was this what a gazelle felt like when it knows it’s being watched by the lion?
Master Sergeant Ivanov had insanely gorgeous green eyes with an inner ring of gold around the pupil. They were in equal parts entrancing and frightening. And Elena could make that statement with absolute certainty because those eyes were now focused on her. The eerie intensity from his gaze damn near had her looking for a different desk to hide under. Normally she wouldn’t even think about backing down from a confrontation. In her line of work as an Army MP you had to have giant brass balls to boss around men who were twice your body mass with the trained ability to kill someone with their bare hands. And according to everyone in her unit, her sisters, and even her mother, Elena had some of the biggest, shiniest brass balls known to mankind.
Although he wasn’t technically that much taller than her, just half a foot or so, his breadth and intensity were overwhelming. Frankly, he looked like a linebacker on steroids. Knowing that he worked for one of the Special Forces Teams also meant that he could kill her with scarier things than just his bare hands. He could probably kill her with a Kleenex. Which was wrong. And a tad scary. Maybe a little cool too. She didn’t have a choice here though. She had to stand firm with him. It wasn’t her fault that he was displaying his suicidal tendencies by messing around with the Major General’s daughter. If he was dumb enough to leave his duty weapon in her room after getting him some, then he should deal with the consequences.
Now, as he sat on the other side of that desk, watching her much like she imagined Ted Bundy had watched his future victims, she decided to display her own suicidal tendencies and push him a little bit further. Leaning towards him a bit, to give him a false sense of intimacy and confidentiality, she lowered her voice so that no one else might hear what she was saying. “Look, I get it. I’ve seen Major General Fetherman’s daughter. She’s a hot little thing. Bottle blonde hair, teeny tiny bikini body with fake breasts big enough to make a porn star jealous. I heard she has a reputation for entertaining a few soldiers too. Just admit it. You came off your mission and needed to release some of that adrenaline you Spec Ops guys seem to carry in mass quantities. After you were done with her, you accidentally forgot your duty weapon. No big deal.”
Sliding a blank piece of paper and pen across the desk towards him, she ignored the way his focus on her seemed to intensify, and whispered. “Just write all that down for me and this can be over with. I’ll give you back your duty weapon and you can get the hell out of here. I’m sure you’d rather be planning your next rendezvous with her than sitting here with me.”
Ivanov sat there, staring at her like he was imaging all the ways he could hide
her body when he was done torturing her. She didn’t flinch under his gaze, or shrink back like some wilting violet. Elena held her ground and waited him out. Soon he would grow tired of all of this circumstance and just give her what she wanted. Of course, she had to wonder if he was really dumb enough to believe her when she said that if he confessed, all of this would just go away. Oh no. If he confessed, he’d be busted down in rank and pay, stationed in some shithole as far away from the woman in question as possible. Like Antarctica. And he’d be lucky if he ever saw the light of day at a civilized base again.
After watching Ivanov sit there and stare at her for what felt like a century, he finally moved. Slowly leaning in towards her. Their faces were now only inches apart. So close she could feel his short rapid breathing through his nose as it brushed her face. For the first time since the man walked into her building, all of the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. That scary focus of his amazing green gold eyes lasered right in on her own eyes, when his voice rumbled. “You’ve got it all wrong.”
“I do?” Elena murmured suddenly shakily. Her inner alarms were blaring. Danger. Danger. Danger. It took everything she had not too slowly slide her hand back and put it on the butt of her own weapon holstered on her hip.
“Yes you do. You see, I’d much rather be here with you.”
Did he just purr that? “And why would you rather be here with me?” A louder rumble seemed to come from the vicinity of his chest. What the hell was that noise?
“I’d rather be here with you because I don’t do spoiled, whiny, superficial, bleached out teenagers. What I do like are mature brunettes who think they know it all. And I like them,” He paused for a second and another loud rumble sounded, “because after I break them in with a well-deserved spanking, make them see that they’re not as big and bad as they think they are, they end up knowing that they’ll never meet anyone like me ever again. Because unlike all the men they may have had before me, I do, in fact, know what to do with a woman’s body. And anyone they have after me will pale in comparison to what I gave them. I like knowing that I took a woman who isn’t a naive little virgin to bed and debauched her to such a ridiculous degree that she’ll know she’s now just a bit dirty, but in such a delicious way. I like to ruin grown women you see. They’re more of a challenge. Would you like a demonstration?”