Tribal Spirit: Forged Alliances

by Katherine McIntyre

  He snarled before he could help himself. Everything about this was stupid and insecure. Jealousy hadn’t been his MO for a long time, not since his young, testosterone-fueled years. The thump-thump-thump between his ears created a war charge he found impossible to ignore. His mountain lion paced in his chest, demanding to mark his territory.

  “Dax, calm the hell down,” Sierra snapped, her voice drawing him to front and center. “Finn needed to know what was going on between us because he’s my beta.”

  “And what did you have to say on the subject?” he asked, his voice lower than normal. Despite the way he fought to rein in his temper, he couldn’t quite swing unaffected and glib with his normal ease.

  Sierra uncrossed her arms and stepped closer, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. At her touch, the pacing calmed, and the thunder in his vision quieted. “I told him we’re potential mates. However, if you’re going to get your panties in a twist every time I talk to a male, we’re going to have a problem.”

  His hormones still raged from the fight and from the potential one that had been averted. She stood before him with a serious look in her eyes, oblivious to how fuckable the slope of her ass was, how goddamn sexy the firm lines of her lips were. He reached out, spearing his fingers through her hair and yanking the strands back to seize control. Fuck this dance. If he didn’t get his hands on her, he would go insane.

  Dax descended, claiming her lips in one sweep. He drank in her honeyed taste, spice and smoke on her lips from her lager and cigarette. She let out a low moan, her tongue slipping out to slide into his mouth. He devoured her without hesitation, his one hand fisting her hair while he trailed the other down the tantalizing slope of her waist. Not like Sierra was some meek, melting thing. Her nails sank into his pec, the other hand curled around his nape as she kissed just as hard, crashing against him with the fury of the tide.

  She pulled back to gasp for breath. “Dax, we shouldn’t—no way in hell are we going the full way without a goddamn conversation.”

  “I’ve had it to here with talk,” he growled, unwilling to drop this sort of passion yet again. He leaned in, and his teeth brushed against her ear before he nipped down. “If we’re not going to fuck, then I’m at least going to taste you,” he murmured.

  Her eyes widened and began to glitter with mischief, the sort that made her smoky looks smolder. “I can get behind that,” she said, glancing over to the parking lot. “Though I think we’re blocking the entryway.”

  At least a handful of members from both of their packs milled around the parking lot by the cars, maintaining their distance. Dax smirked, entertained by the glances sneaked their way. His lion brimmed with pride at the public way he’d staked his claim, even if the human side of him would rather keep their time private. He controlled his impulses, though his lion wanted him to mount her in this doorframe, onlookers be damned.

  “Let’s take this somewhere else,” he said. Sierra took charge, tugging him forward with force that surprised him.

  “You might as well enjoy the effort we put in setting up for at least a second,” Sierra muttered as they entered the Beaver Tavern. A couple of folks loitered around the pool table, and at least three Red Rocks sat at the bar with Seamus behind the taps. Finn stood beside him, freezing when he caught sight of Dax.

  Dax widened his smile, baring his teeth. The urgency to tear the man’s head off was drowned by the need he had right now to drag Sierra in the back and taste every inch of her. They’d done up the tables with some confetti, and streamers hung from the ceiling in lines of neon blue and engine red.

  “You did this for me?” he asked, winding his arm around Sierra’s shoulders. “I’ll have to think of some way to repay you.” His voice grew husky with intent, one mirrored in her eyes as they darkened in desire.

  “Finn,” Sierra called, drawing her beta’s attention. “I’m nabbing the back office for a hot second.”

  Finn’s gaze traveled from Dax to Sierra and the arm he had around her before realization dawned on the beta’s face followed by a slow smile. “Enjoy yourselves.”

  Sierra maneuvered past the bar to the back room where a mess of steam drifted out of the dishwashers, and the kitchen counters sprawled out to line the rest of the room. A younger guy worked at the sinks. Her grip didn’t falter around Dax’s once, and together they made their way to the adjoining office. When they entered, Sierra locked the door behind them and flipped down the wooden blinds with a snick that echoed through the room.

  “Finally,” he breathed, beginning to circle her with his predatory instinct in high gear. She leaned against the massive oak desk that took up most of the room, piled high with papers. Tension descended between them with the heaviness of an oncoming storm. Sierra’s dusky gaze was glued to him as he paced in front of her, ready to pounce. The amber light streaming through the slats competed with the single lamp in the corner of the room, the rest of the place devoured by shadows.

  “You going to keep dancing in front of me?” she asked, her brow lifted and the corner of her mouth quirked up. Her scent, cinnamon and smokes, enflamed him, drawing him in like an elixir. The way her hips jutted forward made him salivate, her jean shorts revealing an ample amount of bronzed skin. Dax stopped his back-and-forth, stilling as their eyes locked.

  He prowled toward her and slammed his hands against the desk on either side of her. A growl came from deep in Sierra’s throat, one that vibrated through the air around them. This was one woman who wouldn’t go gently into the night, who would fight as furiously as he did. Her dark eyes sparked with rebellion as she stared at him, their faces and their bodies braced mere inches apart. This close, her hot breath puffed against his cheek, those full lips beckoning him yet again.

  Before he could lunge forward and claim her, she surged up to crash against his lips.

  He wrapped his hands around her waist, slamming against her with enough force to make the desk shake. Papers fluttered to the floor as he pressed her to the surface, running his hands along the slope of her waist to her hips as he hoisted her all the way onto the desk. She circled her thigh around his side while she ran a hand up and down his pecs, the scrape of her nails against his muscles the sort of sensation that traveled straight to his cock.

  They kissed to a fast and furious beat, gasping for breath before diving back in again. The feel of her lips against his created a sinful surrender he couldn’t get enough of. Sierra tugged his undershirt up, and he tossed it over his head to smack against the floor. Even though his erection strained the seam of his jeans, he’d keep himself in control. After dancing around this for so long, he needed some sort of satiation before he drove himself off the ledge.

  “Enough of these,” he murmured against her lips as he flicked open the button of her shorts. She shimmied out of them, and the heavy fabric dropped to the ground. The sight of her sitting on the desk—tank top rumpled with her lickable midriff exposed and a black, lacy thong the one thing keeping him from her—dosed him with lust. A growl started deep in his chest, the pounding intensifying as need overtook him. He sliced the sides of her panties with the edge of his claw, and the flimsy fabric floated off, exposing her drenched pussy.

  He sank to his knees in front of her, Sierra watching his every move with her desire palpable in the air. The movement caused her thighs to tense in anticipation, and her pert tongue glided over her full lips. In one swift motion, he tugged her by the legs to the edge of the desk. Her heels hooked against his shoulders, and her knees bent as she exposed more of herself.

  Dax leaned forward with a first tentative lick. Her thighs tensed at the motion, her heels digging into his traps. She tasted honey sweet, her nectar glistening as he began to lap at her pussy. Each stroke was slow enough to elicit a moan as he hyper-focused on the details, his erection growing thicker and heavier while he tasted the heaven between her legs. A moan came from her lips as he explored with feline patience, the cat satisfied by this brand of play.

  “You bastar
d,” she cursed when he flicked the tip of her clit with his tongue, finding a rhythm as he thrummed at the sensitive skin. Her hips bucked up as she ground her pussy against his mouth, her fingers gripping tightly around the edge of the desk.

  “You’ve got a filthy mouth, Kanoska,” Dax murmured before plunging his tongue inside her center.

  She let out a loud cry before a “fuck you” slipped past her lips, causing him to smile. He returned to her clit, the quick motions of his tongue eliciting a reaction from her. The smooth skin of her thigh pressed against his cheek, and he broke from his attentions to bite the supple flesh. Her claws pricked out in response, digging a groove into the wooden desk she gripped.

  “I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll forget your name,” he said as a smirk curled his lips. Dax trailed his tongue down her thigh, closer and closer to her core. Her legs quivered at the attention, and she tilted her hips up again in response.

  “Stop fucking around,” she swore, sweat beading her forehead. She bit her lip, her heels digging in even harder. He leaned in, his tongue gliding against her clit again and eliciting a jump from her. Dax began working her clit at a punishing rhythm, faster and faster, causing her thighs to tremble. The desk squeaked beneath them, and more papers fluttered to the floor as Sierra’s cries exploded through the air. Her voice grew higher and louder, as if she didn’t give a damn if the whole bar could hear.

  Her legs quaked as she came, her hips thrust toward his mouth as her entire body tightened and then released like a wrung rag. She blinked, her eyes glowing with satisfaction, the sort that made her purr. He adjusted himself at the sight, his erection growing painful with need for a similar release.

  “Holy hell, Williams,” she murmured, running a hand through her sweat-soaked strands. “Where the hell did you learn how to do that?” Slowly she sat up on the desk, even though her arms trembled a bit with the movement.

  A mischievous smile crossed his lips. “Us feline folk are good with our tongues.” His cock throbbed at the sight of her, hair tousled as she lay there, undone.

  Her gaze traveled to the bulge in his pants, and her brow quirked up. “You don’t think I’d leave you high and dry, do you?”

  Dax scratched his nape, not wanting to reveal how badly he wanted her lips around his cock right now. “I’m good, sweetheart.”

  Sierra snorted as she slipped off the desk and onto her bare feet. “Like hell you are.” She crossed the inches of space between them and snapped the button of his jeans open. Tilting her head up, she planted a slow and sensual kiss on his lips, full of lazy satisfaction as she unzipped his jeans. The thick fabric to pooled around the floor. Dax kicked them off behind him, turned on by the confidence of her movements. She gripped the elastic of his boxer-briefs.

  His cock tested the tensile strength of the fabric, and as Sierra tugged them down, she slipped to her knees with wolfish agility. Her eyes gleamed amber, and she licked her lips as her gaze glided up and down his cock. Dax’s throat grew dry, witty responses abandoned in the wake of the hunger gripping him. He kicked off the boxer-briefs, his heart in his throat as she grinned up at him before tracing her finger down his length.

  The contact jolted through him, causing his breath to hitch.

  “Damnit, woman,” he cursed. Sierra’s secretive smile at the response was so goddamn hot he almost tossed reason out the window to take her then and there. Except then she placed her lips around his cock, the wet heat of her mouth nearly making him lose his load. Dax let out a groan as he glided his fingers through her hair, tugging it into a fist.

  His balls tightened in response as she curled her delicate fingers around his shaft. She began working his length with her mouth, moving with a sinuous smoothness guaranteed to push him to the edge. He’d been fantasizing about her for days, to the point his cock and balls ached. About the soft, full lips wrapped around his dick and the thick coil of hair between his fingers as he tilted his pelvis to fuck her mouth.

  Her tongue stroked up and down his length as she moved in time with him. The hot suction of her mouth caused his thighs to tense, and hell, sparked his body to life as if he skated on the edge of a pool, ready to dive deep. His erection pulsed to the rhythm she created, the cycle he thrust his hips forward to as she sucked him down each time. Each time bringing him closer and closer to oblivion.

  She twisted with the hand wrapped around his cock right as she descended again, the extra impetus sending him over the edge.

  His fingers tightened in her hair as his balls squeezed. Ecstasy flooded through him with the crash of the tides, and his cock kicked out as he came. Sierra kept her lips around his length, milking him for all he was worth as more cum spilled into her mouth. He floated sky high, euphoria crawling through his veins while his head spun from the rush. Finally he stopped coming, and Sierra pulled back, wiping her forearm over her glistening lips before she swallowed.

  He reached out and pulled her up by the hand, trying to mask the way his legs quaked in the aftershocks of his orgasm. Sierra had the same self-satisfied smirk on her face that he’d had minutes before, and Dax couldn’t help himself. He brushed a finger under her chin as he planted a long and lingering kiss on her lips.

  “Feeling a little calmer?” she asked, leaning against the desk again.

  Dax snorted. “Mellow as anything. I’m ready to curl up and take a nap now. Don’t mind if I purr.”

  Sierra shoved him in the side. “Ha, hilarious,” she said drily, shooting him a look. “You have a celebration ready for you out there, so you better make an appearance. Your pack’s been through a lot too. They need this as much as you do.”

  “You ruin everything,” he muttered, fishing his underwear from the floor before he began sliding his clothes back on. “I’d be happy celebrating between the sheets, all night if you catch my drift.” He sneaked a glance at her. Despite the seriousness in her tone, a furtive smile clung to her face. He’d take his victories where he could get them.

  “Sooner rather than later, we’ll have to have the talk,” Sierra said as she followed suit, slipping her jean shorts back on. She tossed her shredded thong into the wastebasket.

  Dax shrugged. “I can last a while with this sort of fun, so take as long as you like, babe. I’m patient.”

  Sierra shot him a glare. “So every time I speak to a guy, you’re going to go rage-crazy and we’ll have to address things? The only reason your hormones are brewing around there like a teenager is because this bond is unresolved.”

  Wickedness sparked in his smile. “If this is addressing things, I have to say I’m not minding this scenario very much.”

  Sierra smacked his head before she sauntered to the door. She paused with her hand on the handle. “See you out there, big guy.” She winked before she vanished into the kitchen.

  Dax ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, his wifebeater now clinging to the film along his skin. Although his desire had been slaked for the time being, one taste was not enough.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A few days passed with one new challenger on the horizon who matched against Drew, not Dax. After the pipe-bomb incident, Sierra didn’t trust herself to show up and watch without diving in herself to tear into the coward. Early morning sunlight filtered in through her blinds, deepening the colors of her tawny floorboards.

  Despite all her efforts to the contrary, a certain mountain lion alpha worked his way into her thoughts to the point where she missed his pestering and wanted to spend time with the bastard. And not just due to his clever tongue.

  Sierra set her coffee maker on percolate, and the hiss of her machine emitted the scent of freshly ground beans. She tugged out her favorite mug, a mauve one heavy enough to knock someone unconscious. Slumping over the counter, she tried to wake up. With Drew tackling the next challenger, Dax had been spending his free time taking care of his pack in the Red Rock cabin, and she hadn’t seen much of him.

  Though that was probably a good thing. Guilt worked its way th
rough her system, warring with the flutter of hope—that so fast she’d grown attached, despite the experiences from her past telling her to run and never look back. Her fingers itched for a smoke as she brushed them over her empty jean pocket. She let out her breath in a steady stream, rerouting the motions into several uppercuts, slashing the air.

  A knock sounded on her door.

  Sierra snapped to attention, her hackles rising. The Red Rocks might know of this place, but they also knew better than to visit her here. However, one smartass wouldn’t give a damn about bothering her.

  Her heart sped up a couple of notches as she made her way to the door, claws out in case of an unwelcome intruder. Before she could turn the knob, the door flew open and Dax walked in.

  Even with soot stains on his wifebeater and the edges of his plaid flannel frayed, the man looked good enough to take a bite of. The sunlight brought out several bronze streaks in his dark, tousled hair, and mischief sparked those blue eyes. A wisp of a grin hovered on his lips as it always did, as if any second he’d get into trouble. Not like the assessment stretched far from the truth. The man was a born pain in the ass.

  He stopped a couple of steps into her place and sniffed the air. A smile spread on his face. “You make coffee for me?”

  “No, but I’m assuming you’ll be helping yourself anyway.” Sierra rolled her eyes as she headed for her kitchen, trying to ignore the way her heart sped at the sight of him. If her traitorous body got this juiced after messing around with him, she was screwed if he ditched rather than completing the mating bond. That sort of loss, she wouldn’t be able to recover from—she’d be closed for business for good. She stepped up to the carafe filled with nectar of the gods. “Couldn’t keep away, kitty cat?”