by Scott, Talyn
“If you’re hungry,” he casually sniffed her neck, “I can order seafood at the Blue Pelican.” Where was her arousal? She should be hammered from the mere sight of him. Unless, he inwardly groaned, she was a lesbian. That’s right; he hadn’t smelled a male on her. Then again, with his virility, charm, and flaming hot exterior…He was confident that he could bring her over to his team.
Renee snapped fingers in front of Bane’s sapphire glaze over. “Where’d you go?”
“Huh.”
“I’m allergic to seafood and a vegetarian,” she complained, “how about pizza, your treat?”
Steak would hit it home, a nice piece of red meat, and a nice piece of white ass. Renee was in for it; she just didn’t know it, yet. “How can you be allergic to seafood and live in Florida?” he teased.
“Tatum‘s allergic, too,” she absently shrugged. “It stinks, anyway.”
“If it’s not fresh,” he pushed the glass doors apart and headed for her car. He rolled his neck and braced himself. Renee's damn car was smellier than a four-day-old catch. He took a sideways glance at her. She was on the small side, as he preferred a broader female for obvious reasons. She had some serious curve action going on under her fur-laden clothes. Not as lush as her sister, but with some larger meals and muscle building sex-a-thons, she would undoubtedly develop into his very own mind-numbing sex kitten.
He opened the passenger-side door for her, and she ignored him. Hoping into the driver’s seat, she started her car up, “Where to, Bart?”
He folded his large frame into the passenger’s seat and cupped the nape of her slender, fair neck. He had an incredible urge to bury his canines into a particularly dainty, blue vein that skimmed the pale surface. She probably tasted like coppery peppercorns and sweetness. Without a doubt, he knew she would be delicious, everywhere. With his free hand, he played with the clasp of his belt. “The way I see it, Renee,” he loosened said buckle. “I can turn your ass up, deliver a rough dozen belt swats and teach you to remember my name,” he didn’t blink.
Well, hell, she stiffened. “You’re frigging crazy,” she flipped her silky hair and turned on the radio. Two could play that game. “Celtic dance it is; a good choice, Bart,” she peeled out of the parking lot and headed for the causeway. Pushing a button on the stereo, Renee drove Bane mad with the sounds of pounding, Celtic feet and bellowing pipes. As she drummed an impressive accompaniment across the steering wheel, Renee’s fingers mimed the music in faultless staccato.
With a long expectative, that would have embarrassed his mother; Bane fastened his seatbelt. Yeah, sure, he was an immortal. For the life of him, he felt a death sentence when he stepped into the vehicle. He couldn’t help it, he turned and searched for an army of Highlanders riding on Stallions with plaids weaving and swords swinging in the air.
After fifteen minutes, they reached the causeway. “I can’t believe they charge so much to cross a bridge.”
“I paid for it,” Bane braved a peek from under his dark lashes. He had been in fight after fight…nearly to the death. Never had he feared for his life more than when he rode with this female. He should have taken the keys and bound her in the back seat.
She ignored the jab. “Promise, I’ll be home in the morning to check on my babies?”
“Promise,” he hedged. Someone would check on them and move them to a safer location. Renee was going to be uprooted, even though she didn’t know it yet. When Jayce had explained her living conditions, the thought hadn’t fully registered until he saw her neighborhood. No potential mate would be in a drug-infested, crime-ridden area. They were precious and few left, so the pack would take care of Renee. His wolf arched and prowled his mind. The thought had made him jealous, and he had never been jealous a day in his life.
She fought to escape, but Jayce would not let her go. His hands gently firmed the span of her arms and held her tight against his chest. Another guy was there; she didn’t recognize him. When he clasped her elbow, he stood in the way of her freedom.
Chapter 13
Tatum hadn’t seen Bren all day, and, at first sight, a curious lump settled in her throat. He was on his cell next to Jody, his hostess. He was dressed somewhat as Jayce with a dark suit custom tailored to his six and a half foot, athletic frame. One hand gripped the phone, as the other carelessly combed his wavy, chestnut hair.
She was in love with him.
Tatum realized that she didn’t like Jody. No one should stand that close to Bren while giving him fuck me eyes. Something inside her snapped like a rubber band, and she wanted to rip Jody’s head off her body and drop it at Bren’s feet. The whole thing made no sense when hours ago she wanted to go home. Damn.
Jayce was watching her.
“What?” she snapped.
A smile lit his face. “You’re the one he’s in love with.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she fibbed. Bren placed his phone in his pocket and took a long, leisurely eye stroll down her body. She felt beautiful. She had been coiffured, waxed - she protested that, lightly made up, manicured, pedicured, and slid into a custom-made dress. The knee-length gown was an ice blue silk that hugged her curves and nestled her bosom, just so. Not too much was showing, yet, just enough. The only underlings were the sheerest of silk stockings that gripped her thighs with the lightest lace covered elastic. Tatum had protested the lack of underwear. The dress was lined in silk, and it brushed her recently bare mound. She was incredibly horny again. Right now, she didn’t fancy dinner. Right now, she wanted to fuck Bren’s brains out, ride him in the middle of the restaurant. Take that Jody. Bren took a deep breath, and his eyes flared.
“Good evening, Tatum,” he bent to place a chaste kiss on the corner of her lips. She was a little self-conscious in front of the patrons, since she was on Jayce’s arm. Maybe he sensed that.
“I missed you,” she whispered. Tatum wanted to run her fingers through his too long, too perfect hair and mess it up.
“So,” he leaned back to stare down at her, “you’re not sorry you missed your flight?” His eyes continued their possessive survey over Tatum's body. His face held a common knowledge: he had been there, done that and would be going back for more. He knew her intimately, they both did. No one had ever touched her the way Bren and Jayce had. It was such familiarity, love, and she had to face it, ownership.
“No,” she glared at Jody. The hostess was lingering and listening.
Bren followed her eyes. “Jody, you can reach me on my phone. Let me know when our guest arrives, thanks,” he turned Tatum toward the door. “Better?” he smiled.
“What?” she shrugged as she walked into the night air.
“Our Tatum has a habit of lying,” Jayce commented over her head, towards Bren. She loved the fact that they were strong and dominating. However, when they talked about her as if she weren’t there, as they were talking over her head because she was so much shorter than they were, it got on her nerves.
“I punish liars,” Bren offered in a casual way. The soft-spoken threat sent chills over her body.
“How did I lie?” she tried to stop, but they cuffed her elbows and moved forward.
“You, little hellcat, wanted to rip Jody apart and play in the bloody pieces,” his hand roamed the side of her hip and tapped her backside.
Bren stopped. “Jody? You’re jealous of Jody?” he shook his head and placed both palms on either side of her face. “What part of ‘I’m in love with you’ don’t you understand? What part of ‘I’m marrying you’ don’t you understand?”
She stared up at him. With other worldly blue eyes, Bren was dark and irresistibly sexy. The night air ruffled the hair around his shoulders and hit her with his spicy masculine scent. “I love you.” A single tear streamed her cheek.
He was stunned into momentary silence, wiped the tear from her face, and sucked it from his fingertip. “I love you,” he swept her into his arms and feasted on her mouth. His tongue, so rough and thick, dueled with hers until
it won, conquered. Her palms traced the muscles beneath his custom silk shirt and slid around to hug his tapered waist. She couldn’t let go of his warmth, his love or his intimidating power. After not enough time, he stopped and glanced between Tatum and Jayce.
“What happened this afternoon?” his voice was silky sharp. Tatum felt wetness trickle between her thighs. Part of her was ashamed of her wantonness, and a larger part of her wanted to get on her knees in an invitation to her men.
“I’ll let her explain, after,” Jayce drawled and reached for something in his pocket.
They had neared the back of the bed and breakfast. Since it was dinnertime, the lanai was secluded. Candles dotted the tables and porch swings slightly lifted in the sea breeze. When they reached the center, both men got on their knees, expensive suits and all. Each one took a hand. “Tatum,” Bren kissed her palm. “This is merely a formality, as we all know that you are marrying us.”
“However, we want you to have every genuine moment set to future memory,” Jayce interrupted.
“Since the day I met you,” Bren continued, “I wanted you for all time. Remember our first date at the movies, Tatum?”
“I remember.” More tears streamed down.
Bren dug in his pocket and produced two movie stubs. “I kept them,” he wasn’t embarrassed in the least. “That night, with only a kiss between us, I still knew you were mine,” his face-hardened. “I made one failed attempt to keep you from him,” he almost snarled. “Except, all that accomplished was to scare you away. Instead of seeking you out to apologize and prevent your doomed marriage, I ran,” his face softened. “It was a terrible lesson, losing you, and I will never lose you again,” his hand tightened on hers. “Knowing that no is not an option; I’ll still ask. Would you give me the extraordinary honor of having you as my wife, for eternity?”
“Yes.” Heart thundering, she kissed his hand.
“Honey,” Jayce placed a gentle squeeze on her fingertips. “You wouldn’t go out with me when we were teens,” he gave a half-hearted shrug. “So, I don’t have any ticket stubs to put in your palm. I guess I’ll have to go with this.” With his free hand, he opened a small velvet box that displayed a diamond ring.
Tatum gasped. “It’s unbelievable.”
A stunning four caret, princess cut diamond was flanked by two, single caret yellow diamonds. The ring screamed of wealth, pride, and, most importantly, the loves of her men. He placed it on her finger. Slightly heavy, she waited for the sensation of dread. After Troy, she had never wanted to trust another man in marriage again. Instead of the expected stress, she felt whole. For once in her life, she felt truly complete.
Jayce’s firm lips drew into a sheepish smile. “I have to admit that Bren picked it out.” They laughed together, and it felt right.
Jayce grew serious, as his vision settled on her face. “You are the most beautiful creature that I have ever seen, inside and out. No one came before you, and no one comes after you. I will love you, care for you, and provide for you for the rest of my days. I will never allow a divorce between us. It won’t happen,” he vehemently shook his head. “Our commitment to one another is forever. You are my soul mate in every way. Only you can fill my heart, and only you can break it. I’m asking you to marry me, honey. Make me the happiest man who ever lived. Can you do that for me, my love?”
“Of course,” she choked. “I love you both so much, too much.”
“It’s never too much,” Bren gathered her in his arms and held her inside the warmth of his jacket. His smell, his body was sending crazy signals to hers. Even though this was supposed to be a romantic moment, which it was the most romantic moment of her life, she had lit up like a birthday cake. It was almost unbearable. “Thank you for the heartfelt words, the ring, and the promise of forever.”
“But?” Jayce pulled her back against his rigid chest.
“Fidelity,” she couldn’t meet their eyes. “I need fidelity. If I have the two of you, and you have one of me, how does that work? How can I demand it of you?”
“Easily,” Bren cupped her chin. “As Jayce said, we do not believe in divorce. Therefore, we never give the other a reason to ask for a divorce.”
“You’re the best thing out there, honey,” Jayce turned her to deal with the blue blaze of his stare. “I’ve been with others, and you’ve been with Troy. Did it feel the same as with me? Because, I have to be honest with you, I’ve never felt this kind of love and passion for another.” Without a doubt, she could see the truth in his face and sincerity in his words. Her knees buckled; they truly loved and wanted her. Never to be used again, she would be loved instead.
“Feel us,” Bren whispered into her hair. “Feel the way we love you and only you.” They could never be with another, especially after they mated. Truth be told, Bren couldn’t stomach another female within miles of his proximity. His wolf nervously prowled, desperate to mark her and truly mate her.
Settle down.
Bren’s wolf flared at Jayce. While he was working at the resort, Jayce had sprayed Tatum. It was necessary to keep the others at bay, but his wolf wasn’t having it. “Before dinner,” he started.
Jayce interrupted. “It was necessary.” For a moment, they locked eyes. As they were at an unspoken standoff, Tatum’s arousal scent grew into significant proportions from the pheromones they were emitting. Bren was the first to snap out of it. “She’s going into….” He stopped himself.
“Exactly,” Jayce gripped her shoulders, “I had twelve associates at the house, remember?”
“I remember,” Bren groaned, “don’t tell me of another.”
“There’s not.” Jayce watched the relief wash over Bren’s features. “She needs a little help before we dine.”
“It would seem so,” Bren bent and licked the ivory swell of Tatum’s breast. He had been adamant about not showing her off to anyone else. Revealing clothing was a no go with him. Tantalized by her body in a semi-public place drove him to extremes, he clenched his fists. “My office,” he gestured towards a white, heavy paneled door and swiped a master card key through the lock.
Once again, Tatum was dazed. On fire, she needed them with a desperation that, frankly, scared her. “I don’t know what’s happening to me lately,” she muttered, somewhat to herself. The office was cold against her inflamed skin, although she still wanted to strip from her silk contraption.
“Tell me what happened today,” Bren brought her through another door that led to a small efficiency. Curiously, there were no windows to adorn the room. A king-sized bed, a small kitchenette, a tidy white bathroom and two leather chairs that flanked a flat screen filled the space with neat conservation.
“Tell me who’s been in here with you,” her jealousy spiked. Why would he have this space, if not to seduce women? The way Jody’s eyes pawed Bren, she must have been here with him at some point.
“This is my private chamber,” his voice held a distinct edge. “I sleep here when I‘m not in Miami. Alone.” He had never had a female in his private chamber, neither had Jayce. It was an unspoken rule that only a mate was allowed in a werewolf’s individual den. “I’m not going to entertain your jealousies, Tatum. We aren’t starting out this way.” He shook his head and signaled Jayce. “Therefore, I intend to drive myself deeper into that delicious body and rebelling spirit until you truly submit. Your will is no longer your own.”
“That girl, Jody, she had her eyes all over you,” Tatum steamed, as she noticed a change in Bren’s demeanor. The change was somewhat familiar in a distant memory.
“I’ll fire her. Do not bring her or any other female up again. I’ve never been with her, nor will I ever. Lose the dress.” Bren and Jayce stood in front of her fully clothed. They wore matching scowls and had identical arms crossed over their chests.
With an obvious growl, Jayce glanced at his watch. “I know she’s new to this; but we’ve waited a full twenty seconds, and she’s still in a blank trance.”
“I’ll take what I
need, Tatum. We discussed this earlier, didn’t we?” Bren ran his tongue over the front of his teeth and stretched his neck to the side.
“What about your clothes?” she shot back.
“I’ve clearly stated my request. Do it,” his teeth audibly snapped.
Tatum reached for the side zipper that stood between her body and nudity. She gripped it a couple of times, before she could unzip the thing. The dress slowly slid down and collapsed at her feet, as she stood before her men in heels and stockings. After she had heard two distinct intakes of breath, she covered her breasts and clutched her, she had forgotten all about it, waxed pussy. Meekly, she met Bren’s surprised face and felt heat crawl up her torso.