So much for her resolve.
He stood up, breathing hard, and she leaned into him, drinking in his warmth, his presence. Just feeling his body against hers felt so rightHalf an hour later, they were walking through the door of his apartment, and her legs were quivering with anticipation. When she was near Jax he set all of her senses on fire. It didn’t matter if he was being seductive, or a jerk, or funny, or if he was asleep for that matter…she was a raging cloud of hormones every time he got within scenting distance.
She glanced around the living room in surprise. “I don’t remember leaving things quite this banged up. Have you been hit by burglars?”
“Nahh, that was me.” Jax looked embarrassed. “I might have been feeling a little frustrated earlier.”
“Wow. I’d hate to see you when you’re downright pissed off.”
“That’s probably true,” he admitted.
He was standing there in the shreds of his pants. That was the downside of shifting – ripped, exploded, shredded clothes happened regularly.
Jax shut the door behind him and locked it.
“Did you mean what you said at the club?” he asked. “You’ll stay here with me?”
“I meant it. Once you get to know me better, you may be sorry you asked.” ”
Jax gathered her in his arms. “Babe. I’m not exactly a prize package myself,” he said, pulling her up against his rock hard body, the thickness of his cock pressing into her stomach.
He reached down and cupped her chin in his hands to tip her head back, and brushed his lips against hers. She parted her lips with a moan, and then he was kissing her hungrily, like a drowning man, and the world fell away.
His tongue probed her mouth, exploring every recess, and she eagerly responded, arms circling his waist. She wanted to melt into him, to feel herself become one with him so they were one entity, one beating heart.
He tasted warm and sweet, and she moaned with pleasure, her moans lost in the wet heat of his mouth.
When he slowly pulled away, he tilted her head up more to nibble at her lower lip and she gasped at the sensation.
“I didn’t trash the bed,” he told her.
“Good thinking.”
Suddenly, before she knew it, he’d scooped her up off her feet and slung her his shoulder. He started marching towards the bedroom.
“Really?” she yelled, hair dangling down almost to the floor.
“Yes, really! You already know I’m a total caveman, right?”
In the bedroom, he dumped her on the bed, still wearing her leather outfit. He slid on to the bed next to her, and as he did, a wicked idea flashed through her mind.
There were a pair of handcuffs dangling from a small chain attached to the head of his bed. He’d cuffed her there during their marathon sex session.
Before he could react, she’d quickly cuffed his hands over his head. As an Enforcer, she knew how to quickly subdue a man.
Jax jerked with surprise. She straddled him, her skirt sliding up around her hips. She wore only a g-string underneath it, a tiny scrap of fabric that was soaked with her juices, and with her legs spread, her shaved lips lapped out over the sides of the fabric and pressed against the smooth skin of his muscled stomach.
“What are you doing?” Jax growled.
“You want me to be with you? We’re equal partners. That means that from time to time, I get to tie you down and torture you.” She bent down and traced her lips along the curve of his neck, smelling his earthy, masculine scent.
She felt him go rigid underneath her, and his breath came out in harsh gasps when she nipped at his neck and then lapped at the skin.
“You do understand…sweet Jesus…the concept of…oh dear Lord…payback?” His voice was harsh and threatening. She laughed sweetly, moving down to his chest. His muscles were so well developed they were like armor plates. His nipples were erect and hard, a dusky pink, and she tugged at one with her teeth, wrenching a groan from him.
“I don’t just understand it…” she sucked his other nipple into her mouth and scraped it with her teeth, and his body jerked again. “…I’m counting on it. You spank me so good, baby.”
She began kissing her way down, down, her tongue tracing circles on his flat, ridged stomach. Fascinated, she trailed her fingers lightly along the squares of his six-pack, her tongue following behind.
“Bobbi, please. Oh, God. I can’t take…please let me…oh, God…I want you…” Her tongue continued its slow, sensual assault, as she moved down towards his groin with excruciating and deliberate slowness.
She sat up and looked at him. “Can you put those words together in a sentence?” she asked, with a wicked gleam in her eye.
He let out a howl of frustration and wrenched at the handcuffs so hard that the iron bedpost started to bend.
“Are you sure you want to break the only intact piece of furniture in the house, Jax?”
“Damn you, woman!”
“Gee. This is fun.” She bent back down, and now she was at the tender flesh above his tangle of black pubic hair. Gently, she cupped his testicles in her hand, stroking her thumb across them as she brushed her lips across the skin right above his groin. He writhed in frustration.
This was glorious. He was completely under her control, burning with need for her, and every groan from his lips sent a lightning bolt of white heat stabbing her core. A sweet pearl of pre-cum glistened on the head of his cock, and she lapped at it, and was rewarded by the violent jerking of Jax’s body.
“Bobbi, please!” he pleaded. “I’m going to explode!”
She ignored him. She began delicately trailing her fingers along the thick vein that ran up his shaft, and then followed it by tracing it with the tip of her tongue.
Jax had gone rigid, panting with the effort of staying still. She could feel his massive muscles quivering, and his body jerked again as she gently scraped his testicles with her nails.
Finally she took the head of his cock into her mouth, and sucked hard. She closed her hand tightly around the base of his cock and began moving her mouth and hand in concert, enjoying the groans that rolled from his mouth, louder and louder, until finally he reached his climax and exploded. Her mouth was flooded with his semen, sweet and hot, running down the back of her throat. She sucked until his shuddering stopped, until she’d swallowed all of it.
Then she climbed off him, and looked up, ready to torture him some more.
Uh oh.
He’d broken the headboard, wrenching his hands free. He looked at her and, with his shifter strength, slowly pulled the handcuffs apart until one of the links snapped.
With a yelp, she tried to scramble off the bed, and he grabbed her and pulled her back. Before she knew it, she was across his knees, with one arm bent behind her back.
“I hope you enjoyed yourself, beautiful…” smack! One hand came down hard on her right butt cheek. She yelped and wriggled, but he held her firmly in place. “…because you’re about to find out what happens when you try to out-Alpha the Alpha.” Smack! She shrieked, squirming frantically, and he laughed.
Several more hard slaps descended on her, and she could feel the perfect prints of his hand on her buttocks.
He dipped his fingers between her legs, slowly stroking her. “You’re soaking wet, baby. I love how much you want me.”
“You stuck up bastard!”
His finger slipped inside her and curved, and he began stroking her inner wall. Instantly heat washed over her, and she gasped, parting her legs.
“Like that?” he asked.
“Yes! Right there! Ohhhh…yes…I’m going to come…”
“Not yet, you’re not.” He pulled his hand away, and every nerve ending in her body howled in protest. Flames of lust were licking at her hungrily, and she shrieked in anger.
He smacked her butt again, hard, a rain of punishing blows that left her butt glowing and pulsing, and left her panting with frustration.
“Jax! You bastard! I hate you!”
“Jax!”
“I can’t hear you…”
“Yes! I want you! Oh my God, I hate you so much!”
Laughing, he flipped her over on to her back, and began kissing his way down her stomach. When he reached the cleft between her legs, he placed his hands on her thighs and spread them open wide.
“Oh,” Bobbi whimpered.
Suddenly she didn’t hate him quite so much.
He buried his face between her legs, drawing his tongue along the seam of her labia, and then spreading them open with his fingers. He began caressing her with his tongue in long, slow, laps, and she wailed her pleasure.
Again she felt that slow build of heat in her pelvis, warmer and warmer, and her thighs quivered as his fingers and tongue worked their magic until she felt the blazing wave of ecstasy sweep over her.
She was drenched in heat and light, and her eyes were screwed shut so tightly she could see sparks, and she felt Jax moving up until he was lying on top of her, pinning her hands above her head and biting her neck.
“I hope you learned your lesson,” he murmured into her shoulder.
“Yes,” she panted, although she couldn’t remember what lesson she was supposed to have learned.
Chapter Thirteen
“Tyler wants us to meet up for coffee,” Jax said.
“I’m asleep. What time is it?”Bobbi pulled her pillow over her head.
“Six-thirty. Wake up, morning glory.”
“I fell asleep two hours ago. And I ache in parts of my body that weren’t in my anatomy and physiology class.”
“I told you not to try to out-Alpha me, babe. I’ll always win.” Jax’s grin was savage and triumphant.
Bobbi lashed out at him with a vicious kick, but he jumped out out of the way.
“Too slow,” he grinned.
She scrambled out of the bed, and he danced back, taunting her.
“Well, look who’s awake now. You’ve got major bedhead. You might want to fix that before we go out. Or not; it’s pretty sexy.”
She threw a pillow at his head.
“There’s not much you’re going to be able to do about those love bites on your neck, though.”
“Love bites? Damn you!”
She ran in the bathroom to look. There were three bites on her neck, glowing like neon signs. Stupid Alpha males, always feeling the need to mark their territory…
No. She wasn’t his territory. Damn, damn, damn.
It took her twenty minutes to get ready, most of which was spent carefully applying makeup to her neck.
Tyler was waiting for them at the outside table of a small coffee shop called Coffee Muggings. He had his laptop open. The surrounding tables were empty. As they walked up, he was tearing pieces from his croissant and tossing it to small brown sparrows who hopped at his feet.
He glanced at them, looking amused. “Sleep well?”
“I bite,” Bobbi warned him, sitting down with an oversized mug of coffee. She took a healthy swig.
“Yeah, she does,” Jax confirmed with a smirk.
“Jax, shut it. Tyler, Aurora didn’t show up at work last night,” Bobbi said.
“What about Oliver?” he asked.
“Apparently he wasn’t scheduled. He wasn’t there either,” Bobbi said. “But it’s apparently the first time Aurora’s failed to show. I called Captain Thorne on our way over here; he said the police detail was watching her place all night, nothing unusual went on. They can see into the livingroom window through the window blind.”
“Ashley’s history isn’t that interesting. She’s a graphic design student, never been arrested. There are some things bothering me about Oliver, though,” Tyler said, shaking his head. “Something’s off here. You’re sure he’s Aurora’s boyfriend?”
“Yes. What makes you ask?”
“Well, mainly because he’s gay. I even know who his boyfriend was, in San Francisco.”
Bobbi and Jax both shot him startled glances.
“Huh. Usually my gaydar’s pretty good,” Bobbi mused. “I certainly did not pick up on that aspect of his personality while he was talking to my boobs.”
“He what?” Jax demanded, with pure murder in his tone.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Jax. You probably didn’t notice because Aurora was rubbing her crotch all over you at the time.” The hair on her arms stood up at the memory of Aurora pressed up against Jax, and she swallowed down her rage with considerable difficulty.
“She was not rubbing her crotch all over me. Tell me more about Oliver’s conversation with your boobs.” Jax bit the words out and glared at her through narrowed eyes.
“Children, please. Can we save the lover’s quarrel for later? Thanks,” Tyler said, ignoring the dirty looks they both shot at him. “Here’s the thing. You can learn a lot about a person by going through their phone records and credit card bills. Patterns emerge. Oliver Ferguson is acting like a completely different person here in Playa Linda then he’s acted in the past.”
“For instance?” Jax said.
“Well, here’s the life story so far. He was brought up by a very religious family, and was engaged to a Mormon girl. But over the past few years in Utah, he started secretly making trips to a gay bar, according to his credit card history. Then he broke off the engagement and told his family he couldn’t live a lie any more; I know because hacked into his email account, which by the way has gone completely silent since he moved here to Playa Linda. Before that, even in San Francisco, he sent them emails pleading with them to understand that he’d been born gay, knew it since he was little, he had no choice…and his father sent back the occasional hate mail saying that he’d shamed their family, and he was dead to them.”
“That sucks,” Bobbi said. “Okay, go on…”
“Eight months ago he moved from Utah to San Francisco, got a job at a gay bar, and started buying a lot of gifts for a man named Brad Sommerfield. Brad worked at the bar with him. I managed to get access to Oliver’s text messages. Oliver only lived in San Francisco for a couple of months, but they were full on in love, a whirlwind romance…and then suddenly, he cuts off all contact with Brad, breaks up with him by text and tells him he realizes he’s not gay after all, never wants to hear from Brad again, and moves to Playa Linda.”
“Huh. I mean, I guess he could have changed his mind…” Bobbi frowned. That didn’t sound plausible. A man who’d secretly gone to gay bars for years, who’d known since he was a child that he was gay, who’d broken off his engagement and felt so strongly about coming out that he’d risk being ostracized from his family forever…
“Ever since he’s been here, his spending patterns and life patterns are different. He buys different food. He eats at different times of the day than he used to. He used to go to movies and plays and he used to buy books; he’s stopped doing that. He shops at different types of clothing stores. I analyze data to discern behavior patterns for a living; I know something’s off.”
“Can you pull up a picture of Oliver’s driver’s license, from Utah?” Bobbi asked.
“Hah. Such silly questions,” Tyler grinned. “Give me sixty seconds.”
While he searched on his computer, Bobbi and Jax drank their coffee. Jax trailed his fingers along Bobbi’s inner thigh, and she shivered as desire crackled along her nerve endings. She tried to move his hand, and he tightened his fingers on her thigh.
“Quit,” she whispered.
“What’s the magic word?” he whispered back.
“The magic word is, I’ll kick your ass from here to Los Angeles and back if you don’t move your hand,” she whispered.
“Apparently you can’t count, because that was a whole lot of words, not one.” He tightened his hand even more.
“Tyler is trying to work. Quit acting like a teenager,” she whispered.
> “Guys, I’m a foot away from you, and I’m a shifter, which as you know means I’ve got pretty good hearing,” Tyler said. “You really don’t need to whisper. I get it. You’re screwing each other’s brains out and you can’t keep your hands off each other.”
Bobbi let out a low, annoyed growl, although she wasn’t sure who was riding her nerves more – Jax with his sensual tormenting of her tender flesh, or Tyler with his smug observations and the little smile quirking his mouth.
Then Tyler turned his laptop to face them.
Jax and Bobbi leaned forward to stare at Oliver Ferguson’s Utah driver’s license.
Jax shook his head, glancing at Bobbi. “It looks a lot like him, but that’s not him,” Jax said. “That’s not the man we met at Caged Heat.”
* * *
“He’s on his way up,” Royce, Vaughn’s head bodyguard, announced.
Vaughn nodded, bent over the glass tabletop, and snorted another line of cocaine. He felt his heart speed up as the cocaine burned through his nervous system.
Then he kicked the coyote shifter who lay curled up at his feet. “Get up, you stupid whore,” he snapped. “Sit in the chair.”
The shifter, Regina, scrambled to comply. She was naked, heavy-breasted, wearing nipple clamps that he was sure burned her sensitive nipples. They were connected with a chain. He reached out and yanked the chain, and smiled at her cry of pain.
He’d deliberately picked a coyote shifter today, as a stand-in for Bobbi, who was angering him more every day. She wasn’t checking in as often as she should. Wasn’t keeping him in the loop. He was sure that the bitch was hiding something from him. Every time he made Regina scream with pain, he pictured Bobbi in her place.
Soon enough, he promised himself.
The door opened, and Vaughn smiled at the tall, distinguished man who walked in, surrounded by security.
“Hello, Mr. Roosevelt,” he said. “Come have a seat.”
Stanford Roosevelt looked as regal as ever, in his conservative gray suit and dark gray tie. He was in Mexico for the day to talk to their trade commission, but he’d ducked out of his hotel for a quick, and very secret, meeting with Vaughn.
The Alpha Meets His Match Page 14