Witch Hunt (City Shifters: the Pack Book 1)

by Layla Nash

  I held my breath for something serious, something along the lines of what I’d wanted to say.

  But he squeezed my ass and grumbled. “Next time I’m going to make you do some of the work, instead of you just holding on and screaming.”

  “Bullshit,” I said, though he managed to surprise a laugh out of me. “Asshole.”

  “Is that an invitation?” he murmured, and his hand got a little bolder as his fingers wandered and made his meaning even clearer.

  I snorted and started to roll away. So much for the sweet and tender Miles. We were back to the sex tornado instead. “Not anytime soon. You’ll have to do a hell of a lot more to convince me.”

  He kissed behind my ear and then down my throat, still kneading my ass with one hand. “I do enjoy a challenge.”

  “If you’re not going to let me sleep, I’ll go back to my room,” I said, though I didn’t really mean it. Sleep wouldn’t happen regardless of where I rested my head, but he didn’t know that.

  Evershaw grunted but kept me pinned. “Idle threats, witch.”

  But he didn’t try anything else, and in the space of a few heartbeats, his breath evened out and he slept. I had just a moment to feel jealous before my eyelids dragged down and I sighed in relief.

  Sleep.

  Chapter 55

  Miles

  He woke up as something that weighed a million fucking pounds and had ice picks for legs walked across his head, hissing and growling. Evershaw growled back and started to move to get rid of the trespasser, but a soft, sleepy noise made him freeze. Deirdre.

  He sprawled on his back and she clung to his side, practically half on his chest, and the smooth skin of her thigh promised all kinds of heaven where it rode against his hip. And he had a nice handful of her luscious ass.

  Her head was tucked under his chin, right on his chest and shoulder, and Evershaw could have lain there all day. All week, really, with her warm and content like that.

  Except for that fucking cat growling and walking across his head so it could flop onto the witch’s pillow. She murmured something as the cat head-butted her, then Deirdre sleepily untangled herself from Evershaw and rolled to her other side, gathering the cat close so she could bury her face in his fur.

  Leaving Evershaw lying there with a stupid look on his face, no doubt.

  He did not like that. At all.

  And fuck him if the cat’s smug fucking expression was gloating over it, too.

  He scowled and swallowed back a growl as his wolf side said to eat the little beast so there was zero competition for Deirdre’s attention. Instead, Evershaw reached over and shoved the cat away, leaving it yowling on the floor, then gathered Deirdre up in his arms so he could drag her back on top of his chest, her tits warm and firm and perfect against him.

  She opened one eye to frown blearily at him. “Hey. What about Cricket?”

  He ignored her as the cat jumped back onto the bed and stalked closer, and instead slid his hands to the small of her back so he could press her against him even more tightly. “What about Cricket?”

  Deirdre rested her chin on his chest and frowned at him, as sleepy and fucking adorable as a kitten. Not like that bastard cat that started sharpening its claws in the really fucking expensive headboard it had taken him eight months to get used to.

  She yawned and stretched, igniting immediate desire all through him. “He’s my morning snuggle buddy.”

  “I’m your morning snuggle buddy,” Evershaw muttered, then stopped before anything else so fucking moronic escaped his lips. He’d never said the word snuggle in his life, and the last two times he’d said “buddy,” once had been to call Rafe O’Shea a buddy-fucker and the second had been to say “Look, buddy” before he decked a drunk asshole in the fucking face.

  What the fuck was that girl doing to him?

  Deirdre’s other eye opened and just a hint of a smile touched her face. “Oh really.”

  He was suddenly the exact poor bastard he’d sworn he’d never be. “Yeah. Really.”

  Because he meant it. He’d snuggle her ass off every morning, and not regret a fucking second of it. And he wouldn’t even give a shit what anyone else thought about it. She’d be worth it.

  Deirdre stretched again and made a pleased sound, then slid her arms under his shoulders so her fingers could move up his neck to his hair. “But you don’t purr.”

  He growled instead.

  She wiggled again and the soft heat of her slit ground against his already-throbbing cock. Her long, dark hair tangled around her shoulders and tickled against his sides, and Evershaw groaned as he gripped double handfuls of her ass and moved her against him until she sighed and stretched and practically started purring herself. Evershaw loved to see her expression change depending on how he moved her, and she started to wiggle again and make those breathy sounds that made his wolf side desperate for more.

  Evershaw slid his hand into her hair and raised her head from where she rested against his chest, and kissed her quickly before he growled, “Remember what I said about you doing some of the work?”

  She nibbled at her lower lip and he almost lost all control. The urge to roll her under him, maybe put her on her knees, nearly overwhelmed him. But good things came to those who waited, and he wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to see her riding him and feel those fucking fantastic thighs against his sides. Deirdre sighed and went up on her elbows to look down at him with sexy eyes. “But I’m really not a morning person. Are you sure you don’t want to just... have your way?”

  “You little witch,” he murmured, aching to do exactly what she said. He did want to have his way. He wanted it so fucking badly his hips punched up in response and she laughed in a soft huff against his chest.

  But he wasn’t about to miss out on watching her breasts bounce as he fucked her.

  Deirdre heaved a dramatic sigh and arched her back as she pushed up over his chest, giving him a good preview of the creamy weight of her tits, and her hips lifted and shifted and then his cock nudged against her already-drenched core. He barely held on to control as Deirdre murmured and leaned forward, on her hands and knees over him, and he lost contact with her. She dipped and slid back, starting an eternity of rolling and whispers and nudges and tantalizing hints of ecstasy.

  Her rosy nipples brushed against his chest with each dip. Evershaw groaned as the head of his cock slipped out of her yet again and she ground down against him. He held her hips and tried to drag her closer and back so he could finally fuck her, but the witch just murmured under her breath and distracted him with the soft press of her lips against his throat. He loved the confidence as she used him, pleasuring herself with his cock regardless of what he grunted and growled at her.

  She was glowing with perspiration and a rosy flush by the time she sank down on him and groaned, dragging her nails down his chest, and her head tilted back as her hips rocked in short little thrusts against him until she tensed. Her channel clenched around him in a velvet vise and Evershaw grunted, thrusting up to meet her, and a throaty groan ripped out of Deirdre as her back arched and her mouth fell open and she froze above him.

  He lost all control as the climax overtook her and her arms lifted until she gripped her hair and jerked against him in beautiful convulsions. Evershaw’s fingers dug into her hips to keep her there as he thrust up, pounding into her as her muscles clenched around him over and over. Deirdre sighed and collapsed toward him, her eyes half-closed, and Evershaw tried to rein in the frenzy as the wolf nearly took over.

  Deirdre sprawled once more across his chest and rolled to the side so Evershaw could finally push himself up and over her. He growled his appreciation in her ear as she smiled and held onto his biceps. He dragged her leg up to rest her ankle on his shoulder and slammed his hips to hers. Her head fell back on the pillows as she sucked in a breath, but he couldn’t stop. He’d never be able to stop. Her body held him perfectly, tight and hot, and everything about her drove him wild.

  He bu
ried himself with a groan, driving the headboard into the wall, and crushed Deirdre to him so he would never forget the way she felt as he poured all of himself into her. She kissed his shoulder and rested her hands low on his back, and Evershaw pressed his lips against her neck so she wouldn’t see the look on his face. Terror filled him at the thought of losing her. She was too perfect—she was everything he’d ever wanted and more.

  Deirdre sighed and wiggled a little, patting his shoulder. “Good job, big guy.”

  He groaned and rolled to the side, dragging her with him so he wouldn’t crush her. Evershaw kept her head tight to his shoulder and pulled her leg over his hip so the slippery warmth of her thigh caressed his skin. He wanted her scent all over him. He wanted to cover her with his sweat so no one would doubt that he’d marked her.

  The witch chuckled a little breathlessly, draping her arm over his side, and nuzzled against his chest. He didn’t dare close his eyes as he stroked her back, fearful that she’d disappear or he’d wake up from it all being a dream. They would have to get up eventually. He could already hear others stirring in the outer rooms and the hall, and his phone had buzzed a few times with messages. Evershaw would have to get up and deal with life, and someone trying to kill him, and eventually Deirdre would leave. He’d have to convince her to stay and he didn’t know how.

  He kissed the side of her neck and up to her jaw, sliding his hand into her hair, and nibbled on her earlobe. “It’s time to get up.”

  “I don’t want to,” she said, sighing. She nuzzled closer, pressing her face to his chest, and the whisper of her breath drove the wolf wild. “Can’t we stay here?”

  Evershaw groaned, squeezing her tight, and knew he’d never get any work done ever again if she stayed. Not that he’d mind, with a handful of her ass to keep him company. “Believe me, witch, I want that just as much as you do. But I need to feed you and then we’ve got to figure out who wants me dead and when you’re going to move in here.”

  She cracked an eye open and squinted up at him. “When I’m going to what?”

  “Move in,” he said. He kept one arm tight around her and spanked her ass with his free hand, hard enough she yelped with each whack, and grinned as Deirdre squirmed and wormed around in his hold. Her ass turned a delightful red by the time he was done, although she’d bitten his arm a couple of times before she finally got free. He tackled her back to the bed and pinned her, holding her arms captive over her head, and leaned down to inhale near her hair. “And now what should I do with you?”

  “If you’re smart, you’ll let me go,” she said. Her eyes sparked with that crazy green fire that set his nerves alight. But her pupils dilated and her lips parted as she panted and tugged at his grip, and she tested his control even more.

  “You love it,” he murmured. Evershaw leaned down to kiss her. “Normally I’d insist we explore this further, my dear, but we’ve got too much work to do. Try to control yourself. Hmm?”

  The witch’s eyes narrowed more. “You’d better—”

  He brushed against the ticklish spot right under her ribs, got rewarded with a howl and renewed wiggling, and he almost had to fuck her again by the time they were tangled up in the sheets and Deirdre had given up. Evershaw gave her one last hearty spank before he rolled to his feet. “Shower, girl.”

  She pulled a pillow off her face and scowled at him as she hurled it in his direction. “You’re the one who smells, jerk.”

  So he did the only reasonable thing. He grabbed her up and threw her over his shoulder on the way into the bathroom. He’d make sure she smelled like him all over.

  Chapter 56

  Deirdre

  By the time the water cooled, I couldn’t even stand up. Miles couldn’t wipe the smug grin off his face as he toweled me off and sat me on the vanity. The blush staining my cheeks could well have been permanent after all the hollering I’d done. He had a one-track mind, and whenever he looked at me, that track was clearly all about sex. Sex and more sex. Getting me off and watching me squirm and trying to lick every inch of my skin.

  Just when I thought he was done, I’d say something or look over my shoulder at him or just throw a handful of bubbles in his face and Miles would growl and press me up against the tiles again. I had just enough presence of mind to be really jealous of how long the hot water lasted—in between all the orgasms.

  He took his time wrapping a towel around his waist, eyeing me as I debated trying to stand up again, and rubbed at his wet hair with another. “What do you want me to feed you?”

  He said it such a weird way. Feed me. Like I was some kind of caged animal and he was the zookeeper tossing steak through the bars. I blinked and kept my eyes on his face instead of the washboard abs and the rest of his perfect body. “Breakfast tacos.”

  “Breakfast tacos?” His dark eyebrow arched as he sauntered toward me. “What the fuck are breakfast tacos?”

  “You’re such a barbarian.” I sighed and tried to wrap my soaking wet hair up into a bun so it stopped dripping down my back. “It’s breakfast in a tortilla. Breakfast tacos.”

  Miles stopped in front of me, leaning forward between my knees, and caught my face in his hands. “Breakfast in a tortilla. Right.”

  I didn’t mind the way his palms cradled my face, and before I knew it, my hands rested on his sides just above the towel. “Don’t act like you’re the one who’s actually going to cook it, hotshot.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I can cook.”

  “You can give orders to Mercy so she cooks,” I said. I patted his chest and eased to my feet so I could make my way slowly to the door. “And I need actual clothes. And to not die of embarrassment when I walk out there.”

  “Why would you be embarrassed?” He got out of the way but stalked me into his room as I searched for my clothes.

  There wasn’t enough money in the world to convince me to walk through the living room in just a towel. It would be hard enough to face everyone knowing they all knew I’d slept with him, although we were adults and we could do what we wanted. There was no reason to freak out. Except I didn’t think I could face the hope on Mercy’s face. It would break my heart to break her heart.

  I bent to picked up my bra, puzzled over where my underwear might have ended up, and made the mistake of looking back as I straightened. “Well, if—”

  And I caught Miles staring at my ass with renewed hunger, even with the bulky towel and a graceless jump to straighten up. I cleared my throat until his gaze traveled up the rest of me to land on my face and he smiled blandly, not an ounce of shame on his smug damn face. “As I was saying, I’m not used to having a whole family hanging out in the living room right after a... morning after, I guess. It’s weird.”

  “Why would it be weird?” He folded his arms over his bare chest and leaned back against the dresser, watching me search, and I wanted to throw something at him for not helping—although he’d been pretty damn clear he preferred me without clothes. “We’re adults. Neither one of us is mated to anyone else. Why would it be weird for you to fall all over yourself climbing into my bed?”

  Some of the charm of his confidence started to wear thin. I gave up on the underwear and figured I could go commando until I got to the guest room and the rest of the clean clothes. I dropped the towel and hauled on the jeans, scowling at him. “Because you kidnapped me and held me against my will, then tracked me down after I managed to escape, and you keep trying to die, and I’ll die if you die, and all of that? You forgot about all that?”

  His eyebrows arched. “Of course not.”

  “Then…what the hell is wrong with you?”

  Miles blinked at me, then pretended to search for something in the bedroom. “What just happened? Where did Deirdre go and who the hell are you?”

  A low growling bubbled up and I reared up to give him a piece of my mind about threats when he scowled at the floor near my feet and the telltale whisper of Cricket’s tail brushed against my foot. Well. At least I still had one supportive m
ale in my life. I hauled on my shirt, ignoring my wet hair, and bent to pick the cat up. “Could you just…stop being you for a second? Go back to being Miles instead of big alpha asshole?”

  “We were joking,” he said slowly. The muscles in his arms twitched as he flexed, but he didn’t move from his casual stance leaning against the dresser. “And clearly something pissed you off. Fill me in.”

  “You act like this is a neat little bow on everything,” I said. I dragged Cricket up so I could rest my chin on the soft fur of his back, his tail curling around my neck, and I forced down the regret and fear of everything that I still had to deal with in my life. “But there’s at least one person in this city who still wants you dead, and if you die, then I die. And I’m not ready to die, Miles. It’s scary. And I still have to go to work and fix my house and it doesn’t matter how funny you think it is to ask me to move in with you, it’s not really funny. I don’t know what’s going on with the coven or Smith or anything. There are too many bad things and not enough good things right now, and I just can’t…I can’t deal with you making light of all this.”

  He held his hands out, like I was a wild animal he didn’t want to startle, and slowly stood. “I’m not making light of anything, witch. I’m trying to catch up, since you seem to be riding the express train to pissed off, so help me out.”

  Cricket grumbled and squirmed, still growling, and I wondered if I could just toss him at Miles to make my point. Cricket’s claws would leave behind the kind of damage I kinda wanted to make myself. I took a deep breath and tilted my head at the door to the living room.

  “I’m off balance and I was trying to tell you I’m uncomfortable having all your pals sit outside when I have to walk across the way to get a bra because someone ripped this one all to hell.”

  And I shook the tattered garment at him for good measure. Miles’s mouth hung open as he watched me, his eyes flashing gold. I put Cricket down so I wouldn’t use him as a weapon, although I doubted the cat would have had a problem with it, given his current mood. But I wasn’t done with Miles yet. I threw the bra at him instead. “And you made a joke out of it. You make a joke out of everything. I’ve never had a live-in boyfriend or even a sleepover boyfriend, Miles, so I’m trying to figure this shit out and it doesn’t help that this is your house and I’m supposed to hate you. It’s conflicting. You’re conflicting.”