This was too much. She was too much. Swiftly, but gently, he set her in her seat, and without meeting her eyes, turned to get out of the truck. They could talk later about her situation, on the phone or something.
“Sit your derriere back down,” Spencer commanded.
Pausing with the door ajar, he looked back at her.
“What’s your issue, anyway?” Turned in her seat, her eyes were full of fire while her cheeks were still highlighted with desire. Stunning. “You skedaddled the last time you kissed me and now you’re going leave a cloud of dust in your haste to get out. What’s up?”
“Look, Spencer—”
“Don’t give me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ spiel. I know that, don’t try to blow wind up my behind. This isn’t the last time we’re going to see each other, friendly neighbor. So talk.”
A smile crossed his lips, completely unbidden. Her candor was refreshing, but he wasn’t going to dive into his sordid past with this little human that made his mating senses tingle. He had one shot at happily ever after and now it was gone. No need to row that boat again.
“I was married once,” he began, not just using the human term for Spencer’s benefit, although she might be familiar with mating if she knew about his species. He’d agreed to a legitimate marriage ceremony, in a church, for Abigail’s sake, to help her accept him and his nature. “She tried to accept me, she really did. But a smooth-talking Sigma leader coerced her to turn me in.”
“You were captured?”
“Yep.” Bennett exhaled a gusty breath. The betrayal always felt recent, though many decades had passed. “My pack freed me, and they almost got killed in the process. She ended up being killed in the crossfire.” That was the nice version. There was no accident with her death, and no amount of time would lessen his guilt.
“When was that?”
“Before the turn of the century.”
Spencer narrowed her eyes on him. “Which century?”
She knew about their lifespans, too. “Early nineteen hundreds.”
“How old are you?”
“I’ll turn two-hundred and eleven this year.”
“Let’s see if I can try to fill in the blanks. So you found your mate pretty young and she proved too mentally weak for your kind of life. Your relationship went down in flames, so now you won’t let any woman get close to you.”
Um…yeah, but so much more complicated than that. “Pretty much.”
A sound from the alley grabbed Bennett’s attention seconds before prickles of awareness rippled over his skin.
“Fuck! An Agent. Stay here and lock the doors.”
Spencer watched as Bennett crouched outside the pickup, then rose with a wicked looking knife in each hand. Where was he hiding those? She’d been pressed pretty closely to him just minutes ago.
Even under the dire circumstances, the memory of riding his hard length, with her tongue down his throat—or was his down hers? Okay, either one made her flush all over again. Her breath quickened as she stared at the male stalking the alley entrance.
Before he shut the door, Spencer had caught the stink of vampire and was completely okay sitting in the truck while Bennett hunted fang. Maybe the Agent was after the Guardian and not her.
Bennett knew her brother, had talked to him. Spencer’s hope that she could find him, and bring him with her into obscurity, were dashed when she learned of his confinement in the psych ward. Sugar! She couldn’t leave him there, but she couldn’t very well break him out, or even visit him, without sending out alarms alerting them to her location.
What if she told the Guardians her story? What if her telling them jeopardized her parents’ anonymity? Or her brother’s well-being? What if they wanted to use her to get closer to Sigma? Guardians were notorious alpha males and could trod over her wishes easily. No, it wasn’t worth it. She would need to keep her distance from Bennett, both emotionally and physically, and protect her secret in order to keep her family safe.
Spencer’s sharp ears picked up on sounds of a scuffle deep in the alley. Debating on whether or not to move the truck, and aim the headlights down the alley to light-blind the vampire, a knock on the window made her jump and let out a girly shriek.
“You okay?” The server from the bar called through the window.
A hand on her chest, feeling her heart churn underneath, she gave a reassuring smile and wave.
He made a motion with his hand wanting her roll down the window.
“I’m fine,” she called through the closed window, unwilling to open it. “Have a good night.”
The server smiled again, meaning to reassure her and shook his head, putting his hand up to his ear like he couldn’t hear her. What a crappy time to get hit on.
She shook her head again and gave him a dismissive wave. His smile stayed in place, but his eyes darkened. Next thing she knew, she was looking down the barrel of the black gun he held.
Her reflexes kicked into action. She jerked the door handle and shoved the door open hard and fast into him, knocking the gun out of his hand. He stumbled back in surprise. Closing the door immediately and locking it, she started the truck, threw it into gear, cranked the wheel, and floored it.
Realizing he’d better move or he’d get run over, the server gave up on finding the gun and stumbled back as the truck swung out to the side toward him.
Moving out farther than she intended, and passing him, she threw the lever into reverse to back over the gun or the server, but she saw in the review mirror that he’d already recovered his gun and was pointing it at her through the rear window.
Before Spencer could step on the gas in an attempt to hit him before he got a solid shot off, a dark form flew into the server, tackling him to the ground.
Double sugar snap! Now she couldn’t see either one in the mirrors or windows, they were wrestling on the ground too close to her pickup.
Bennett rose up, like an avenging angel in the glow of her taillights. His hair still mussed from her hands, his clothes rumpled with dark stains, and that fierce male beauty of his spurred desire ahead of her fear.
Meeting her eyes in the mirror, he jutted his chin out to her in question. Nodding that she was okay, he first looked around to determine if there were any witnesses before he bent and hauled the server’s body up and threw it into the back of the pickup.
Planning to voice all kinds of arguments about why she couldn’t have a dead body in her pickup, she opened the window.
Bennett started talking before he was even in front of her. “We’ll drive around to my car and I’ll transfer him and dispose of him.”
“Sigma?” Raking her gaze over him to see if any of the blood was his, she detected mainly the stench of tainted vampire blood. If Bennett had been injured, he must be healing already.
“I don’t smell it on him, but it’s too much of a coincidence that he’s after you as soon as an Agent shows up. Did he talk to you tonight?”
“Other than taking my order, no.” She had thought the server seemed like a nice guy. “Wait. When I came out of the bathroom, it seemed like he wanted to strike up a conversation. Asked if I was new to town, but I kept walking.”
Bennett nodded like her news confirmed his suspicions. He was inspecting a weird-looking ring he pulled off the man’s body.
He pocketed the ring and looked up. “Spencer, have you heard of the Guardians?”
Nodding, dread filled her belly.
“You need to come stay with us, we can protect you and find out why they’re after you.”
“No way.”
“Spenc—”
Holding up her hand, irritation flashed across his face as she shushed him. “I get it. I’m in danger. But I’m tired of running. I don’t want to be driven off my land, and especially not at a critical time for starting my business.”
He opened his mouth to argue again, so she rushed on. “I promise I will lay low. I promise to call if there’s any problems. But Bennett, I’m not running anymore.�
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The finality of her declaration had him grinding his teeth as he considered the situation.
“Fine. Follow me then.”
“What about the vampire?”
“Dusted.” He glanced toward the alley, not speaking for a moment. “Wait here. When I come out of the alley, follow me to my car.”
Bennett walked around the front of the truck and disappeared into the alley. Spencer rolled her window up most of the way, to keep aware of her surroundings.
One minute ticked by, then another. What is he doing?
Alarm started to rise in her gut until his tall form sauntered out of the entrance carrying a beat-up cardboard box.
He refused to look her way as he walked down the street, expecting her to follow him.
Instead, she pulled up next to him and opened the passenger window. Catching a fetid scent. Really? “What’s that?” she asked amused.
“Kittens,” he bit out a bit defensively.
“Where’s the mama?”
“Dead.”
Huh. Her heart melted just a bit and she so did not need that around this alpha male.
“How do you know?”
Using his key fob to unlock a black car, he also opened the trunk before sliding the box into the passenger seat. “Just do,” he finally replied. “Bar’s going to close soon. We need to get out of here.”
After the body swap was carried out, Spencer followed Bennett and his pack of felines, suppressing a giggle at the thought. Kittens. And he gave her a hard time about the name Cuddles.
She followed him all the way to her place with no incidents. He pulled in and helped her hose the blood out of the pickup bed, then waited until she was safe in her house before he pulled away.
Chapter 6
Slumping against her locked front door, she huffed out a big breath. She had a lot to contemplate—her new supplier contract, the attack, her planting schedule. One thing she would not be thinking about was a brooding, blond shifter who kept popping up and gave her the best clothed orgasm she ever thought possible. It might even rank up there with the best orgasm ever.
Like any red-blooded woman, she liked sex. She liked it more because of who she was, but she reined in her urges, occasionally venturing out for a quick hookup. Relationships were out of the question, and she never stayed in one place long enough to revisit the same bed twice, so to speak.
If she were to visit the Guardian’s bed, she had a feeling she wouldn’t want to leave it. Son of gun, she was thinking about him. Back to the produce contract.
Prepping for bed, Spencer tied her hair back and scrubbed her face before changing into flannel pajama bottoms and a thin, long-sleeved t-shirt, all the while mentally running through growth charts and planting schedules.
Cuddles’ warning bark and the purr of an engine pulling up her drive brought Spencer to the door to grab her shotgun. She peered out the window. What the h-e-double hockey sticks?
A familiar black sedan pulled in next to her truck and out hopped Bennett. She watched his lithe body, now dressed down in black sweat pants and a black t-shirt, stride around to the passenger side to grab a duffle bag and the beat-up cardboard box.
Swinging the door open, she waited for him to approach. A male like him holding a box full of kittens he’d rescued tightened her chest. She tamped down the desire that flared because she couldn’t tear her gaze away. Cuddles gave a curious whine, but after a scowl from Bennett, the dog was satisfied to sniff at the box as Bennett came closer.
“Something wrong?”
“Yeah.” He maneuvered past her. “You won’t stay under our protection, so I will have to stay with you.”
Seconds passed as shock sucked the air out of Spencer’s lungs, and she was helpless to watch as he wandered farther into her house, looking around.
“You can’t stay,” she finally sputtered out.
“Sure I can. If you don’t have Wi-Fi, then we may have an issue, but I’ll solve that soon enough.” Little mews came from the box. “Where’s your guest room?”
“I don’t have one. I have seedling and mushroom rooms until I can get the basement ready.”
“You’ve got a couch. That’ll do.”
The infuriating male strode to the couch and dropped his bag. Then he turned to wait for more of her arguments.
She crossed her arms over her chest, realizing too late she was braless and just pushed her ladies up to the forefront, catching his attention, which was evident by the flash of heat in his eyes.
Refusing to budge, she chose another route. “I don’t have any cat food. Or litter boxes.”
“They’re young yet, so milk will be fine, and I can shred some paper for them.”
Dang. He was good.
Sensing another argument, he pushed. “You can compost it.”
Smart aleck.
“Well, they need a bath.”
“Agreed.”
Neither one made a move. Cuddles waited, eyeing them both.
“How did you find them and know the mother was dead?” Maybe he’d tell her, maybe he wouldn’t, but at this point he owed her something for barging into her life.
Unease crossed his features as his internal struggle with telling her the truth played through his handsome features. “I can communicate with them.”
Spencer couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. The look on his face told her he thought she didn’t believe him.
“Talking to animals must come in handy in your line of work.” Oh, snap. Hope he never talked to Bessy or Tulip, or she’d have a lot of explaining to do.
“At first, until it didn’t work anymore. But lately, my gift seems to be working.” The thought perturbed him.
“So would he really prefer Apollo?” She inclined her head toward to her loyal German shepherd.
Bennett’s lips quirked. “He loves you, so Cuddles from you is okay.”
She smiled warmly down at the dog, who lolled his tongue out. “All right. Let’s get your little kitty pride cleaned up and smelling fresh before we get them some milk.”
Back pressed against the wall, Dani bit into Mercury’s shoulder to keep from crying out as he pumped into her. They were in the broom closet, for heaven’s sake. Pitch black with the door shut, but it hadn’t slowed them down when she stripped her pants off and wrapped her legs around her mate, and he slammed into her.
She’d actually been making headway breaking into the phone that Bennett took off the recruit who had attacked his woman. Dante was finally napping in his little bassinet in her office when Mercury tapped lightly on her office window.
The walking dead feeling left her as the fire in Mercury’s swirling eyes grew, and they ducked into the closet for some afternoon delight. They never knew how long they had, so opportunities were seized where ever and whenever, and almost always during naptime. Unless Dani was napping herself; Mercury damn near lost an arm if he so much as thought about touching her.
Their simultaneous orgasms done, they clung to each other, chests heaving. Mercury hands roamed over her body, climbing up her shirt.
Untwining her legs, Dani stepped away to hunt for her pants, earning a deep sigh from her frustrated mate.
“Why do you push me away?” He had never asked her that before. She had hoped he’d be okay with their clandestine liaisons that lacked long caresses.
“I need to get back to researching the recruit’s contacts in the phone.” Dani managed to sound all businesslike, like nothing was wrong.
“Daniella.” Mercury’s warning tone told her she wasn’t leaving the broom closet until she started talking.
“My body’s just not bouncing back as fast as I thought it would, especially being mated. I should’ve healed by now.” Her stretch marks were gone, thankfully. She had enough to be insecure about. Dante had been large and it was a tough delivery, one that would have ended with surgery if not for the strength of her mating bond that gave her speedier healing, helping make the birth successful.
But the
motherfucking baby weight! Dani struggled with her own care, and Dante kept her more than a little busy. She couldn’t shower most mornings, barely functioned out of a zombie state, and couldn’t stand to look at herself. And Mercury wanted to touch her all over.
“You’re talking crazy, you’re beautiful.”
“Even you said I should probably wear maternity pants a little longer.”
Mercury stilled. He had caught her trying on her premagnum belly yoga pants and proceeded to make a suggestion that she still wear maternity pants if they fit better. Oh yeah, that’d been a hell of fight, one that consisted of her kicking him out and throwing his clothes on the front porch before crying and picking them all up until he directed her to bed and lovingly tucked her in for a nap.
“Daniella, you were near tears. I thought I was making a helpful suggestion that would make you feel better. It was blind stupidity, we covered that.”
Dani found her pants and climbed into them. They weren’t maternity ones anymore, but she still felt lumpy and bumpy. He really had been trying to help, only seeking to make her mood improve, but his legendary bluntness bit him in the ass.
“Daniella, talk to me.” His concern caved her.
“I just don’t want you to see me until I get my body back and it’s taking forever. I don’t want you to change your mind.”
“How can you be worried about that?” He sounded truly incredulous. “Honey, I love you tight and athletic. I love you with a large, round belly growing my child. And I love you with a—what did you call it? Muffin top?”
Oh, no he didn’t. Before she could plan on how many of his clothes she would throw out on the porch, he continued.
“I’ve been dying to explore every new inch of you and whether it stays or goes, I don’t care. Those new boobs of yours, though, I would really like a shot at them.”
She could feel the heat of his gaze on her D-cup milk laden breasts even in the dark room. Her night vision was improving from being mated to a shifter, but his sight was much more acute.
The Sigma Menace Collection Page 39