Tempting Whispers: The Kategan Alphas 6

by T. A. Grey

  She was out of her seat and waiting at the door in a flash. “God, I feel like I’ve been cramped up in here all day.” Looking back at the clock, she moaned. More like three hours. Brayden’s sense of timing was way off.

  He shoved the files back into the folder then led her out of the office. She glanced behind them but found only an empty hall with shiny white floors that looked freshly cleaned and buffed. No mysterious man waiting for her at the end of the hallway.

  Cool air greeted her outside. It felt like a breath of fresh air after the stifling pounding of the A/C unit in the office. “Did you find out anything interesting?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer for a moment. At the SUV parked in the lot, he opened her door and let her climb in. Only after he climbed in and took off did he answer. “The first car that hit Daniel was a hit and run. It happened late last night. Two witnesses saw it happen, but said it was too dark to get a license plate number. Only recalled that it was a ‘dark car’. The second car that hit him had been an accident from all accounts. The woman who’d done it is human with a husband, small house, and four kids. Paperwork says she slammed on the brakes as soon as she saw Daniel get hit. But the car who hit him sped off fast, and even hitting her brakes, it wasn’t enough to stop her in time. She ran him over.”

  Vanessa’s stomach rolled with a curling queasiness. “God, that’s awful. That poor woman.”

  “Reports said they had a hard time talking to her. She was nearly incoherent from crying. We’ll go have a talk with her soon.”

  Vanessa's gaze slammed to his. “Say what? Why? After what she went through?”

  He nodded and his voice grew harder. “Yes, we have to. Or rather, I have to. I need to talk to her myself. What kind of food do you like?” he asked.

  The quick change of topic sent her fumbling. “Um, Mexican is pretty great.”

  He nodded. A few minutes later, he pulled into a brightly lit and colorful restaurant. A folksy trumpet blared an uppity beat over the speakers outside. The aromas of spicy meat, corn, and flour instantly brought a smile to her a face and a growl to her stomach.

  “Do you think he’s trying to cover this whole thing up since you’re looking into it?”

  He grabbed her hand making her stomach clench with something warm and exciting. His was so much bigger, stronger than her. His palms were slightly coarse, his skin not quite as warm as hers, but still warm enough she’d like to cuddle against him and just let him hold her. Her stomach dancing with excited nerves when he threaded their fingers together. When his thumb made a pass across hers, her breath stuttered.

  “That’s exactly what he’s doing.”

  An hour later, she was fed. No, stuffed more like, with refried beans, chicken and beef enchiladas and a lot of extra guacamole and cheese. She’d even ordered a strawberry margarita under Brayden’s warning eyes. She’d hesitated, but ordered it anyway. She had one life to live, might as well live it up. And, by God, did she make the right choice. That margarita was delicious! She finished the whole thing while gobbling up her enchiladas in record time.

  “Oh, my God, thisish sogood,” she mumbled with a mouth full of food.

  Brayden watched her but didn’t say anything. With the last bite gone, she fell back in the padded seat and pressed a hand to her belly. Amazing, but apparently food had the ability to make everything seem so much better than it really was. Like she was under some kind of food high, because she couldn’t help smiling at Brayden. Her shoulders sagged, beyond relaxed, and her whole body had the lithe, puddingy feeling to it, like she had too much water in her.

  “I feel great.”

  “That’s the alcohol speaking.”

  She leaned an elbow on the table, grinning madly and rested her chin on her hand. She loved the two points at the top of his lip, the long path of his nose. “Oh, really? And it doesn’t happen to be because I just ate the best enchiladas ever?”

  He didn’t crack a smile. “I’m sure they tasted good, but no, it’s the alcohol. The margaritas here are somewhat famous for having a good bit of alcohol in them.”

  She closed her eyes and slumped in her seat. “Mmm and damn good, too.”

  She must have had her eyes closed for more than just a second. A warm hand curled around her shoulder, and a finger slipped across her collarbone in a single caress. Her eyes jerked open, then up to find Brayden there. And she’d never heard him move.

  “Come on, it’s time to get out of here.”

  She took his hand so he could help her up, which was good, because apparently she needed it. The room spun a full 180-degrees before it settled back again. And she could still feel his touch on her bare skin, minutes after he paid and tugged her out of the restaurant. She hopped into the car, bouncing in her seat with her hands tucked under her thighs. Brayden’s big body curled in next to her and she wished there wasn’t a console separating them. A pretty night like this, with good food and booze in her belly, she wanted to curl up against him with his arm wrapped around her shoulders and her head on his shoulder and just drive.

  Of course, that was crazy thinking. They took off down the road with him firmly stuck in his seat, minus the seatbelt, and her firmly in hers, plus seatbelt. Lykaens could take a good beating, but they weren’t as impermeable to damage as vampires were. They lived long lives if some untimely death didn’t catch them, but even they needed seatbelts. A shiver raced through her. Her cousins had seen just how fast a car crash could steal life away when they lost their parents.

  “I’m calling your father in the morning, then we’ll go see the human from the accident.” He flicked a glance at her and his brows pulled low. “Why are you staring at me?”

  She laughed; okay, maybe it was more of a giggle. She tucked her left leg up under her right one then turned in her seat with her back to the door. “I was just thinking how your beard grows in fast. You’d just shaved it and already stubble is coming back.” He looked real good with that bit of stubble.

  He ran a hand across his cheek as if to confirm this, then shrugged. “Guess it does.”

  “I like it.” Maybe it was the way she said it, which may have been breathless, or the fact that she leaned forward in her seat toward him, but he shot her a look so hot she almost moaned. That wasn’t even a lie; she almost actually moaned at the look. A look that said he could tear off her clothes and be inside her in less than thirty seconds if he wanted to right now. And that he really did want to.

  Her heart pounded way too hard and fast. She pressed her hand to it and took a deep breath. Only after his gaze returned to the road did her heartbeat return to normal. But the evidence of his scathing look still lingered with her, in her wet panties.

  “What happened in the office?” he asked.

  God, she really didn’t want to talk about that. She still didn’t know if it’d been her overactive imagination or really Joseph. It could have just been another Justicar looking for Brayden, or the janitor walking down the hall. But then, what had made me so scared? She screwed her eyes shut and expelled those thoughts. Joseph wasn’t going to ruin her good mood or any more of her life. She’d already let him do that for two years. No more.

  “Nothing, just let myself get spooked. You know, I think you’re one of the few men who’d look really hot with a beard. I’m not talking ZZ Top beards, but a short one.” She sighed as the picture of him with a crisp, short beard came to mind. Yup, hot shit.

  He didn’t say anything, and a little while later they pulled under the detached garage port. He let her in the house then headed to his office, manila envelope tucked under his arm, without a word. Well, that was that, she guessed. Did her hot beard comment set him off or something?

  She must be stupid, or at the very least, overly emotional, because when he closed the door without a word, her heart actually felt squeezing pressure over it like some weight sat on her chest. Yup, it was stupid and silly, but it hurt her feelings. Cursing him with every bad name she knew, she treaded up the stairs and stoppe
d at the hallway to her door. Actually, it felt like something stopped her, some instinct. She stared at her door, thinking through slow alcohol-muddled thoughts, then it hit her. When they’d left that morning, she hadn’t closed her door, but it was firmly shut now. A soft laugh escaped her. Gail must have been up here cleaning.

  She let out a deep breath then opened the door. She hit the light, but didn’t go inside as her narrowed eyes surveyed the room. Empty, nothing. Her bed had been made and some of the clothes must have been washed because they were stacked neatly and folded on her dresser.

  “God I need a shower,” she mumbled and headed for the dresser. She found even more clothes in the dresser drawers all smelling of lovely fresh lavender and folded into little squares. She had to remember to thank Gail, because she’d done all of her laundry, even washed the new clothes she’d just bought. Okay, that Brayden just bought.

  She grabbed a T-shirt and pair of undies from the dresser, then stopped. A cold sweat came over her. Her chest pulled tight, making it hard to breathe.

  “Brayden,” she whispered. Then louder, “Brayden. Brayden! BRAYDEN!”

  Booming footsteps from the stairs sounded, hammering in time to the beat of her raucous heart. “What the fuck happened?”

  She stepped back from the dresser, finger pointing. His body pressed against her back and somehow her breathing calmed if only a little. His body stilled, then he crossed in front of her to pick up the mating symbol pressed between her clothes. He’d been in here. In her things. He picked up the rope made from her and Joseph’s hair and clothing on the day they mated. The first day he’d taken her to bed and touched her. Her skin crawled like millions of ants dancing across her flesh with wet, scratchy legs.

  “Take your stuff and go to my room.”

  “He was here. He was actually here.” Her voice sounded faraway, distant.

  “Vanessa, get your clothes and go to my room now.”

  “But, he was here! In your house. In my things.” Her eyes landed on the mating symbol in his hand and something hot and angry came over her. “Give it to me!” She reached for it, but he held it away. Her jaw tightened but she didn’t stop reaching for it. “I’m going to burn the fucking thing. Just give it to me, Brayden!”

  “Vanessa, calm down. It’s okay.”

  His soothing voice sounded grating on her very last nerve. She stood on tiptoed, curling her hands into his shirt and yelled into his face. “I will not calm down! Give me the fucking symbol!”

  He blinked, something flashing in his eyes. Her frustrated mind had no time to analyze it, to figure out what the look meant. But she figured out rather quickly when his arms banded around her waist and lifted her up so his mouth could claim hers. She growled at him, squirming in his arms to get away, but his grip at her waist only tightened, one hand coming up to cup the back of her head to keep her still.

  And it worked. Then his mouth captured hers hard. His tongue tore through her defenses, laving her in a kiss of steamy fire, and anger turned to passion. Her stomach clenched in response, even as her mind warred with the different, startling emotions of anger and desire. He tasted good, and she didn’t want him to. His lips felt soft and sensual against hers, and she hated that even more. And when his kiss gentled and he softly took her lips over and again, she wilted against him like a flower, completely in his control.

  He pulled back, his hand massaging her scalp in a way that sent chills down her neck and arms. “Go into my room, baby. The lock code is four, seven, two, nine. Can you do that for me?”

  The protest started to erupt before she could quench it, but that was okay, because he did it for her. His mouth slanted across hers, their breaths mingling.

  “Can you do that for me?”

  She nodded, dazed. He stepped away from her and the room spun, but not from alcohol this time. She walked out of the room without feeling her limbs. She felt like a zombie, or a robot performing the programmed function necessary for the task. She found his door, entered a code on the pad next to it, something that’d escaped her attention before, then entered. The room was dark, very dark, but her eyes adjusted and landed on the dark coverlet of his bed sitting low to the floor.

  She went to it, pulled back the cover and got inside. She suddenly felt exhausted. All the energy it’d taken today had sapped her. She pressed her nose into the pillow and sniffed his scent, Brayden’s scent. It made her feel warm and safe. With the heady masculine taste of Brayden on her tongue, her lips, she closed her eyes and fell asleep faster than ever before.

  Chapter 11

  A stirring of air. The slight compression of a foot on a wood floor. Something woke her up. Vanessa sat up, her back kissing the headboard as her eyes scanned the dark room around her. A figure stood then came for her. A scream erupted in her throat, then choked to a stop as the lamp next her was flicked on.

  Her breaths came out in pants. “Brayden.”

  The bed dipped as his strong body sat next to her. “Expecting someone else?”

  “Hell, no,” she said quickly. “What time is it? Why’d you wake me?”

  He looked away, the lamp lighting the half of his profile facing her. Crinkles formed around his eyes and his grim mouth casted his whole visage into a dark countenance.

  “I thought you might want to take a shower before we head out.”

  An excited flutter shot from between her legs to her chest like a butterfly. His deep voice coupled with the dark atmosphere in the room reminded her that she was on a bed and Brayden was sitting right next to her. What if he kissed her now or she kissed him? Would he come down with her on the bed and show her what other pleasure he was capable of evoking inside her?

  “Head out where?” she asked, her voice a croak.

  His gaze met hers, and damn if she couldn’t read the look in his eyes. “Don’t worry about that. I packed your things. Take a shower, then we’ll leave.”

  He stood and her hand reached out to catch his wrist. His gaze came back to her, something darker in his eyes...or maybe that was just how the light played with his eyes now that he didn’t sit with the lamp near him.

  She could have asked so many things. She could have asked about the time or insist he explain where they were going, but none of that mattered to her. All that mattered to her right then was the incredible energy wavering between them, that felt so taut and hard it’d take a chainsaw to break the tether.

  So instead of asking any of those things, she tilted her chin up and asked what she really wanted to. “Will you come with me?”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment, then he shook his head. “I better not. Meet me downstairs when you’re done.”

  He left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Vanessa tore the comfort off her and stormed to the shower. “What an asshole.” She flung her clothes off her with agitated movements. How could he be hot one second then distant the next? He was the one who said what they’d done before had changed everything. As she stepped under the spray and did her business, her mind scoured through their previous altercations. Had he changed his mind? Did he just not what her anymore?

  Hell, what did it matter? What about what she wanted. She wanted a lot, and all of it involved her and Brayden naked with him buried so deep inside of her she couldn’t remember her own name. She wanted to feel that same white-hot, intense explosion of pleasure he’d given her before while he was pumping his fingers inside her.

  “Whoa, get a hold of yourself, honey,” she muttered.

  Too late; she couldn’t undo the mental reliving of what they’d shared in his kitchen. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to push the images away, but instead, her breasts grew heavy and her sex wet and empty feeling.

  “Damn you, Brayden.”

  She shut off the shower with her elbow, then grabbed a towel hanging from the rack. Even while mad at him, she couldn’t help but feel a wisp of pleasure that she was probably using his towel. She entered the bedroom, found it empty, and her shoulders sagged. So
maybe she’d hoped he’d be naked and lying on the bed waiting for her. But, nope. No way was she going to put her dirty clothes back on, so she walked barefoot with a towel wrapped around at the tops of her breasts to her room. Inside the drawers, she found he hadn’t packed everything. In fact, the only clothes he’d left were skirts, dresses, and a few of her more sexy tops she’d bought. A smile curled her lips at the thought of her flustering the big, bad Brayden. That had to be it, had to be why he’d purposely not packed these clothes.

  With a soft laugh, she pulled on a blue-jean mini-skirt and a brown top that bared her shoulders and much of her breasts. This kind of shirt actually made her glad she had small breasts because it meant she didn’t have to wear a bra. The vee of the shirt fell way low to the bottom of her breasts and two strings tied in the middle to sort of ‘hold it all together’. She ran her fingers through her wet hair then checked herself out in the bathroom mirror.

  The skirt showed off her legs and the shirt her arms and tits. Good, she hoped he’d drool, because she was wearing this on their little trip tonight. It’s the least he deserved for being a cock tease. A grin split her lips at the thought. Still barefoot, she treaded downstairs and peered into the kitchen and dining room. Empty. Heading right, she found him sitting on the leather couch. His gaze moved to her and she stopped at the doorframe to lean against it, hooking her ankle over the other and resting a hand at her hip.

  “All ready,” she announced.

  She wished he didn’t sit in the dark. She could barely make out his eyes. She found it difficult enough to read his expression when she could see his eyes, much less when she couldn’t. Goosebumps popped up over her arms then traveled down her legs making her shiver. Had his gaze just traveled over her?

  “You shouldn’t wear that.” His deep voice was made for wooing women over the radio or speaking naughty things into a woman’s ears, things that’d make her drop her panties in a second. Vanessa knew she would.

  So her clothes did bother him. She couldn’t help but smile. “Why not? It’s all I had left up there. I wasn’t about to shiver my way down here and go through the bag you packed me for a pair of jeans, ya know.”