Mate Night: An enemies to lovers shifter romance (Southern Shifters Book 2)

by Eliza Gayle

  “You shouldn’t do that.” “Do what?” She wickedly licked a nipple, taking him by surprise. “Get aroused around a naked man who can smell you.” His hips pressed forward, the thick erection solid against her stomach.

  “Then you shouldn’t be rubbing against me.” She was losing her train of thought quickly. Thick, mutual desire wrapped around them and whipped into her from every direction.

  “You like that, huh?”

  “Not at all.” His deep, rumbling laugh rolled over her in lust filled waves. She wanted more. More touching, more kissing, all of it. Despite their fucked up pasts and present he seemed to want her more than ever. Later she would demand the answers she needed, but for now she only wanted to scream for him.

  Kane shifted position and rubbed his cock against the inside of her thigh, a sensation that drove her wild.

  “We should go back.” It took a second for his words to sink into her lust clogged brain, and she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. They were alone, he was naked, and he wanted to leave? “I only came out here to get you because I’m not confident you’re safe out here alone. Call it a crazy hunch if you want.”

  “We both knew me coming back here was a risky move, you should have let me go.”

  He scraped his teeth along her jaw. “Letting go isn’t an option for either of us.”

  “What do you mean?” She let her hands wander down his back, loving every inch of hard muscle he flexed holding her up. Determined to take away the control holding him back, she dug in her nails and scratched at his back and down to his tight ass. Kane snarled in her ear, reached for her shorts and shoved them down her legs.

  With her bare pussy under him, she wrapped her legs around his waist and hooked her feet behind his back. She writhed in his arms, grinding herself against him. Every time the heat of her sex rubbed against his shaft he thought he’d die on the spot. Damn woman would drive him crazy before this was all over.

  “I can’t control...” A sudden gasp stole her words. He must have hit just the right spot.

  “No, baby, you definitely can’t control it, and every time you try, I’m going to take it away. You’ll burn right alongside me. Dying for more.”

  Unable to stand another second of not being inside her, he used one hand to tilt her hips and drove his dick deep into her warmth. She screamed, her voice loud and breathy around them, which barely registered compared to the sensation of her tight inner muscles giving way to his strokes.

  “Oh, yes...” she groaned.

  The pleasure was unbelievable, so strong he could come now even though he didn’t want to. Not yet. He slowed his movements, pulling back nice and slow before easing his way back in.

  “Please, Kane...torture...please, harder,” she begged.

  “Anything for you, baby.” He tightened his grip on her hip as plunged in harder, deeper than before. His mouth latched onto her shoulder and bit down. They might not be able to mate, but damned if he didn’t have to at least mark her. She was his.

  The taste of her blood on his lips sent him into a frenzy as he powered furiously in and out of her. Her muscles clamped down on him as tight as a fist with each thrust. Resisting the driving hunger and need was useless.

  “Sweet Jesus, Lara, you’re fucking milking me. So much heat it’s like liquid fire surrounding me. C’mon, baby, give it to me, give me all you’ve got.”

  Her final scream of release pushed him over the edge as he drove deep one last time, exploding in his own heated orgasm. The spasms from them both rocketed them together as they fell to the cushioned grass.

  He couldn’t move; she’d drained him and left him exhausted. Her little post-release whimpers cracked further into his heart as he snuggled her close. He couldn’t recall ever being so, satisfied and complete as he was with her in his arms and the need to protect that ached through him. Problem was, she could very well be the death of him.

  Chapter Nine

  Occasionally a time comes when you have to admit you’re fucked. When your simple plans for the future have been so thoroughly trampled on, you have to face the change and forget the past. For Kane, this was his fate with Lara. She’d tried to kill his brother and his mate and he’d helped stopped her, but not hated her like a good man should. He’d lusted after her from the moment they met.

  He’d kept silent when he received the order to track and kill her, not because he wanted to do the job, but because he’d take any excuse he could use to find her. Unfortunately, finding out why didn’t resolve his issues, only made them more difficult. Mating with her now could end up getting them both killed, and not mating with her would likely drive him mad. Every time he got near her—hell, if he even scented her—he wanted to claim her.

  Now, to make things more complicated, he was starting to actually like her. She had a wicked dark side and a knack for creating havoc, but the loyalty to her dead mother had created that. At least, in part. It was a trait he could identify with because he knew first hand the importance of the family bond. Very little could be more important. In fact, right now he couldn’t think of anything.

  Today, when he’d talked to the council about her, he’d received even more resistance than he’d expected. Over half of them stood up against his decision to not carry out his duty, and he’d had to argue her defense to hard headed, set-in-the-old-ways clan members. Fortunately, many of the voting members didn’t live in the small village, but instead on isolated parcels a good distance away. Male cougars were solitary for the most part and sometimes their human DNA couldn’t overcome that.

  So, he had a few days to prepare. He’d started here in his study on the Internet, looking up any public information he could find about Lara and her mother, which unfortunately was sparse although not altogether surprising for people who didn’t quite fall in the full human category. Supernatural abilities were guarded closely since no one wanted to be responsible for starting a war.

  There were some school records on Lara, a Social Security number, and a birth record. The bare minimum for functioning in this day and age. He looked at the birth certificate and found her father listed as unknown. She’d been born February twenty-third, twenty-five years ago, delivered at home by a midwife in a rural town south of Asheville. Only a few hours from here.

  Next, he checked her Social Security records and found no work history. The last public information he’d found were from high school, but after she graduated she went off the grid and had successfully hidden since. Smart girl.

  Since researching her didn’t produce anything, he decided to switch gears and look up the mother. More of the same there. The mother, Marlene, had no records from her entire adult life. Made no sense. To survive there had to have been money, and getting it always required paperwork. Job applications, tax statements, any number of things. There had to be something somewhere, unless Marlene had a false identify. Curious.

  Switching over to financial records, he decided to follow the money trail. Thirty minutes later he had absolutely nothing except a pain buzzing in his head from frustration. Something was out there, he just needed to uncover it. If push came to shove he’d grab an image of Lara off his home security system and start running it for facial recognition. He’d need some expert help on this one.

  “Morning.” He jumped at Lara’s voice. “Jeez, nervous much?” She laughed as she settled herself in the chair across from him.

  “I thought you were still sleeping.”

  “I was until the scent of coffee finally permeated my tired brain and woke me up.” She saluted him with the coffee cup she held.

  He shut down the laptop and slid it back into the drawer. “You hungry? The kitchen is well stocked.”

  She shook her head. “I want to know about my mark.”

  “Well, good morning to you, too, and let’s get right to the heart first thing.” He laughed.

  “I’m serious.” The storm brewing in her eyes was enough of an indication that he wasn’t going to talk his way out of this conv
ersation.

  “No worries, baby, I know you are.”

  “How can I possibly have the mark of the black cougar? I’m not a shapeshifter. And just because I have the so-called mark doesn’t mean a thing to me, so why is everyone here making such a big deal out of it?” She rubbed at the back of her neck absently as she sipped her coffee.

  “Why are you rubbing it right now? Does it itch?”

  She froze, hand on her neck and cup to her lip, considering... “The back of my neck does tingle a little.”

  “That’s because your mate is in proximity and you aren’t fully mated yet.”

  “Whoa, fully mated? What the hell does that mean?”

  He sighed and walked over to her. She really wasn’t going to like his answer. “I marked you.”

  “You did what?” She stood and slammed her mug on his desk. “How the fuck did you do that? And what the hell does that mean? Are you deliberately trying to provoke me?” She grabbed the metal paperweight from his desk and lobbed it at him. He ducked and it missed his head but nailed his shoulder instead.

  “Damn it, woman, what the hell?” “Answer me!” “Sit back down and I will.” He rubbed his throbbing shoulder. “Do

  you remember me biting you in the woods yesterday? Check your left shoulder, you wear my mark now.”

  She slipped her hand under the edge of her collar and felt around. He guessed she’d found it when her face turned rage red all over again. “I guess this is what I get for consorting with animals.”

  “An animal you begged for yesterday, so don’t be a bitch.” “Tell me the rest.” She sat back down and picked up her coffee. He couldn’t blame her for being angry. The biting had been a bad idea, but something about her drove him wild, and when they were fucking he had little control where she was concerned.

  “I don’t know how to explain why you carry the mark, it makes no sense. Historically we have to share some part of the same bloodline for you to do so. But, it’s been decades since we’ve had a born mate within the clan. It’s one of the reasons our kind has been so against inner species breeding for so long. When shapeshifter DNA starts mingling with other species anything is possible. It could be nothing or it could be chaos, not something the council is eager to find out.”

  “But Lucas just did it. That woman wasn’t a shifter.”

  “Yes, he did, and he isn’t here anymore. He’s been shunned pending a long-term study to see what happens to their abilities and any children they bear. The phenomenon that Kira possessed it without our DNA is what keeps her alive. They might not realize it, but I’m certain the council is watching them with a closer eye than they suspect.”

  He held up his hand to halt her response. “Are you sure you want to remind me about how involved you were with my brother and his mate?”

  She winced, and a pang of guilt clenched in his stomach. Why, he couldn’t imagine. He wasn’t the one who committed the crimes, and motivation or not, she did cause a lot of trouble for them all.

  Neither one of them spoke for several minutes as they stared at each other. His anger held steady as he contemplated what to tell her next. When the silence stretched on he stood and walked to the window. These conflicting desires of either fucking her or choking her would be the death of him.

  The faint whisper of skin against leather sounded behind him but he didn’t want to watch her leave the room. He had a hunch he’d be seeing her back soon enough when she opted to walk out of his life. If she gained her freedom.

  “Kane!” She screamed his name a split second before the window in front of him shattered into a million pieces that rained down on him as she tackled him to the ground.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Shooter!” No sooner than she screamed the word at him was the room riddled with automatic gunfire. Holy hell, did they have an entire firing squad out there? His beast roared to life, forcing the shift. He only had seconds.

  “In the kitchen underneath the sink is a trap door. Get there and follow it.”

  “I’m not leaving you—”

  He snarled at her. “Damn it, Lara, the house has been breached, you will do as I say before you get us both killed.”

  Her face twisted in anger, but she shut the fuck up and headed towards the door on her hands and knees. The fur and teeth sprang forth as his body shifted, releasing the pain he suffered from forcing it back long enough to get her out of the room. He only waited a few minutes for the gunfire to cease before he leapt from the house through the broken window.

  Lara scrambled from the room, ignoring the pain in her hands and knees created from the glass shards everywhere. Why the hell did she ever listen to him? Such bullshit. She headed into the kitchen and the cupboards below it. A trap door? What the hell? Now not only were they being shot at she had to look for a secret door. This wasn’t her life, it was a bad spy movie gone wrong.

  All she needed was a gun, some shoes, and a few choice herbs and she’d fucking blow up whoever the hell had the nerve to come after her. Hiding was for other people.

  She opened the cabinet doors and looked inside, seeing all the normal crap you expect under someone’s sink. Cleaners, towels, pet food...she paused on that one. Why does Kane have pet food, and dog food at that? He’s a damn cat.

  More broken glass crashed from the front window and she hurriedly shoved the cabinet contents to the side, feeling along the back wall for a door.

  Sure enough, she felt a small depression in the wall and pushed on the exact spot, and a pull lever popped out. She yanked and it opened to a narrow tunnel behind the wall that sloped downward.

  Her fear of confined spaces kicked in with a racing heart and pain in her chest. No way was she going in there; she couldn’t see an exit because the tunnel went too far down. Sweat broke out on her hands as she considered her options. She was practically naked with no weapon and no magic. Damn him all to hell for not letting her arm herself with even the simplest of spells.

  She thought she heard movement and the sound of crunching glass. She jumped into the cabinet but the only way to fit would be to push herself into the opening. She could do that as long as she didn’t have to go inside and close the door. She got herself into position, legs first, and shut the external cabinet door.

  Sweat dripped from her forehead as she waited. The dark, tiny space freaked her out and her mind raced as she edged near panic. Whatever the hell Kane was doing out there, he needed to hurry.

  Steps grew closer and she doubted they were friendly. Kane would certainly have called out to her, or at the very least come straight to where she now hid. When a cabinet opened and closed on the opposite side of the kitchen she held her breath. She was trapped, unable to fight in this position. She would have to go deeper into the tunnel, at least far enough to close the hidden door.

  She scooted down one inch at a time and pulled the door shut in front of her. Total blackness surrounded her and she screwed her eyes shut in order to try and forget she hung in a tunnel underneath one crazy ass cat’s kitchen. She once again wondered how something like this happened to her.

  She sweated profusely as the noise in the kitchen grew so loud it seemed like it banged in her head. Her pulse pounded all over her body and her skin turned slick from anxiety. She lost hold of the door handle and slid a few more inches. Her breath caught in her throat as she continued to battle the fear.

  The pull of gravity weighed heavily on her body as her arms shook with the effort of holding herself steady between the walls. She could do this, but if she stayed here much longer she would end up doing something incredibly stupid, like crying out for help. Kane had sent her here for her own safety and, for some unknown reason, she believed in him.

  She took in a large, deep breath and on the slow steady exhale she let go and wiggled her body down. Surprisingly, she only fell about ten feet before going through an opening and landing on her butt. The minute her feet hit the larger room, dim lights lit the area. Must be motion sensitive.

  Sh
e gulped in air and willed her racing heartbeat and labored breathing back to normal. Now she could see this larger tunnel continued and the lighting and space were more than adequate for her to control her fear. Still, she started to sprint down the dirt-floored tunnel in a rush to get to where it was he wanted her to go. She didn’t want to spend anymore time than she had to in an indefensible area.

  She considered the location of the kitchen to the proximity of his property and guessed she was running the short distance to the mountain behind his property. The North Carolina mountains were riddled with caves of all shapes and sizes, and he must have tapped into one as a private entrance or exit. He could come and go as he pleased, and anyone watching the house would never be the wiser. Clever. A man after her own heart.

  Approximately a hundred yards later she entered another, much larger cave. As the spaces grew her comfort level increased. Thank God, she didn’t need Kane to find her in a full-blown panic attack. Speaking of which, where exactly did he want her to go? She did a three-sixty turn in the room surveying the area and noticed a door. What the hell?

  She turned the knob and was shocked to find it unlocked. Here’s hoping I’ve not stepped into the Twilight Zone. More lights flickered on as the door opened, and she stepped inside, letting the heavy door shut behind her. Forget the Twilight Zone, how about the damn rabbit hole?

  She stepped into another room of his house. The same colors and furniture surrounded her, except this was just one large room with a bed in one corner and a mini kitchen in the other. A hideout. He had a cushy, well-stocked hideout built into the middle of a mountain. She laughed. She’d suffered through a spray of gunfire and an almost full blown panic attack to find out that like her, her sexy as hell cat was also one paranoid son of a bitch.

  Her laughter turned to giggling, the uncontrollable kind that bring tears to your eyes. The irony in all this was that if she had a home somewhere, this is exactly the kind of thing she would do: build herself a panic room. She hadn’t thought of it in quite the elaborate execution.