by Deanna Chase
“I…” Son of a bitch. Was he for real? Or was this just another trap? I bent down and retrieved my discarded blade. “If you’re lying to me, I’ll do more than just put you into a coma.”
His lips twitched into an amused smile. “It’s not a lie.”
“Then where did they go? A pack never just gives up on a hunt. Not that easily.”
“I might have dumped that wig you were wearing earlier in one of the garbage cans a few streets over. They likely found it, realized you were long gone, and left to lick their bruised egos. Meanwhile, you’re safe and still threatening me, even though I’ve done nothing but try to help you.”
“Help me. How do you—oh.” I frowned, realizing he had point. He’d neutralized Scar Face and protected me from a pack of wolves.
His smile widened. “I see you’re catching on now.”
“Don’t be smug,” I said and peered down the street. “They’re really gone?”
“For now,” he said and shoved his hands into his pockets. “But you never know when they might be back. Seems they’ve taken a liking to this neighborhood.”
I sucked in a deep breath and stepped out from between the houses, tugging him along with me. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere private. You have some explaining to do.”
His gaze swept over me as he looked me up and down. “Private, huh?”
“Don’t get any ideas,” I said, trying to block out the way my body tingled at just the idea of him touching me again.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he said. “I already have plenty.”
“I bet.” I muttered and took off, heading for the Charger.
“Sweet car,” he said, climbing into the passenger’s seat.
“Thanks.” I slammed the Charger into gear and sped down the street, still trying to decide where to go. I had a few safe houses in the city, but even though Dax had indeed protected me on more than one occasion, that wasn’t enough to earn my trust. And if I took him to one of my safe houses, I’d burn the location. No, it was better to just take him back to my house.
“So, shifter person. Care to explain why you’ve gone out of your way to defy your pack? Twice?” I asked him.
“Care to explain why you were wearing a blond wig earlier in the night?” he countered.
“Not particularly.” I took a left turn and gunned it. “But wearing a wig isn’t really in the same league as actively working against your own people, now is it?”
“That all depends on who you were trying to deceive and why.” He peered at me, his eyes laser-focused. “Somehow I don’t really take you for the mercenary type. Who hired you?”
I laughed out loud. “Nice try, shifter boy. But none of that is any of your business.”
He shrugged at that. “Fair enough.”
I glanced over at him, exasperated that our conversation was going nowhere. But I’d be damned if I was going to let him out of my sight until I got answers. He’d been actively working against his fellow shifters. Why? And for who?
“You hungry?” I asked.
A flicker of surprise washed over his handsome face. Clearly he hadn’t been prepared for me to give up so easily.
He was right, of course. I’d work my way back around to it eventually… maybe after he let his guard down a little.
“Sure, I could eat,” he said.
“Good. I’m starving.” Kicking a bunch of shifter ass would do that to a girl. The only problem was, not much was open at two in the morning besides Waffle House and fast food. Neither of which sounded appetizing at the moment. “I hope you know how to cook.”
He laughed. “I guess you’re about to find out.”
Chapter Six
The Greek revival townhouse that I shared with my best friend, Willow, and her husband, Talisen, was dark as Dax and I made our way to the front door. Both of their cars were parked out front, indicating they were home and already in bed.
Good. I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to explain bringing a stranger over who may or may not have been involved in Allcot’s abduction.
“I have roommates, so try to be quiet,” I said as I opened the door and waved him in.
He nodded and stood in the entryway, glancing around at the comfortable space. Soft overhead light illuminated the old pinewood floors, overstuffed couch, and brightly colored pillows. “Cool place.”
“We like it.” I pointed to the stairs. “The kitchen’s on the second floor.” I flipped the stairwell light on and led the way to the large custom kitchen. Willow was a magical baker by trade, so things like professional-grade ovens and plenty of counter space had been a must for her. It also meant that, even if there wasn’t much actual food in the house, we were likely to find some freshly made concoctions.
Maybe I could slip the shifter one of Willow’s Truth Clusters to get answers. Guilt washed over me for even considering such a thing. Trust Clusters were useful for law enforcement or court orders or when someone wants to prove they are telling the truth. But to give one to someone without their knowledge was some seriously dirty bullshit. I shook my head, immediately dismissing any such action.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Huh?” I glanced back at him as I reached the top of the stairs.
“You’re having an internal debate. Is it the pancakes or waffles variety? Or were you considering various interrogation techniques, like different types of torture.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners with humor as he continued, “Or perhaps you were going to go with seduction?”
I snorted. “Dream on, shifter boy. I was contemplating cookies or pie.”
His grin widened as he swept his gaze over me, slowly taking me in. Then that heat was back in his eyes as he said, “Pie. Definitely pie.”
Rolling my eyes, I tried to ignore the fact that my entire body was humming with anticipation and that I wanted nothing more than to grab him by the shirt and haul him back downstairs to my bedroom. An image of him stripping my panties off with his teeth made a shiver crawl up my spine. I turned abruptly and strode the rest of the way down the hall into the kitchen.
Down girl, I told myself. Get your hormones in check. You have work to do.
“Maybe later, then,” I heard him say with a slight chuckle.
I ignored him completely, opened the fridge, and started pulling out ingredients. “Here, do something with this stuff.”
He took the pile of vegetables from me and opened the freezer. “Don’t you have any red meat in this place?”
I peered in. “Hmm, I dunno. Doesn’t look like it.” I pulled the fridge door open again and reached in the back, finding a white butcher-wrapped package. “Try this.”
“Go sit down,” he said as he spread everything out on the counter.
“Works for me.” I grabbed a cupcake from a nearby tray, and instead of moving to the table, I leaned against the counter, watching him.
He unwrapped the meat package. “Tuna. That will work.”
“Sushi grade.”
“Even better.”
I smiled and took a big bite, smearing icing on my upper lip.
“Seriously? You tell me to cook, and then you eat that?” There was mock indignation in his tone.
“I’m starving,” I said and licked my lip.
“You better be.” Then he was all business, slicing the tuna, cutting up vegetables, and rummaging through the fridge for more items.
“Are you a chef or something?” I asked, watching him wield the kitchen knife with expertise.
“Something like that,” he said. “I worked at a family restaurant for a number of years before I came to New Orleans.”
“Oh, and where was that?”
“Out west.” He took two plates down from the cabinet and started arranging the food.
Somewhere with woods, I guessed. Montana, Washington, California. Wolves didn’t often populate cities. There weren’t nearly enough places to get their shift on. “Rockies or redwoods?�
� I asked.
He didn’t answer. Instead he held up a bottle of wine and tilted his head in question.
“Yes, please.” I hadn’t had a drop of anything mind altering at the club, and one glass wasn’t going to hurt.
“Here.” He handed me the bottle. “Make yourself useful.”
A few moments later, we were seated at the table with fancy tuna-and-goat-cheese salads and two glasses half full of pinot noir.
“To kicking ass and walking away unscathed,” he said, raising his glass.
“Mostly,” I added with a nod. There was no doubt I had a nasty bruise on at least one of my ribs, but I’d survive.
His dark eyes raked over me one more time. “You’re hurt?”
“Nothing that my roommate can’t fix with a little salve. I’ll be fine. Tal’s a talented healer. If I catch him before he heads off to work in the morning, I’ll be as good as new.”
“You don’t have to wait. I could help you with that,” he said, taking a sip of his wine.
I raised both eyebrows. “You’re saying you’re a healer?”
“No, not exactly. But I do carry a numbing salve that will jumpstart the healing process.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, instantly skeptical. “Why?”
He laughed. “I’m a shifter. We don’t exactly stay out of trouble.”
“I can’t argue with that. Still, I’m not taking any magical healing agent from someone I know nothing about. Thanks, but I’ll pass.”
“Your choice.” He shrugged and dug into the salad.
He’d filled the plate with red-leaf lettuce, shaved carrots, radishes, cucumber, raw tuna, and goat cheese. Then he’d drizzled the entire thing with a tiny amount of honey. It was fucking delicious. I ate every last bite then sat there, nursing my wine.
“Now that you’ve fed me, what do you plan to do next?” I asked.
His lips twitched. “Dessert?”
I glanced at the cupcakes on the counter. “I already had mine.”
“I didn’t,” he said, not taking his eyes off me. Heat crawled up my neck, and an achy need had me reaching for more wine.
Goddammit. What was this power he had over me?
I grabbed my plate and my wineglass and stumbled toward the sink. Waving my wineglass at the cupcakes, I started to tell him to help himself, but instead, I tripped over nothing and slammed right into the counter, the plate and glass flying out of my hands.
Crash!
The dishes splintered across the wood floor, the noise echoing through the old house. I stood there, frozen for just a moment in a state of disbelief. But then the loud yap of a shih tzu, followed by growling and the sounds of small paws tapping on the floor, snapped me out of my haze.
“Link! It’s all right. It’s just me,” I called as I ran to the door, trying to head off the wolf-shifting shih tzu that belonged to Willow. He flew past me, ignoring my words, and headed straight for Dax, his teeth showing as he snarled at the unknown intruder. “Shit. Sorry,” I said, grimacing.
Dax slid out of his chair and kneeled in front of the pissed off dog. Then he put his fist out, letting the dog smell him. “Hey, boy,” Dax soothed. “Good boy, protecting your people. You’re doing a fine job.”
Link stopped growling, tilted his head to stare at Dax, then promptly sat down in front of the shifter as if he was waiting for Dax to say more.
“See, I’m not so bad,” Dax said, petting the shih tzu. “We understand each other, don’t we, boy?”
“Jesus,” I muttered, completely shocked. Link was Willow’s guard dog and protector. Backing down to a stranger, especially one in his house without Willow or Tal’s consent, was completely unheard of. “How did you do that? Is this some sort of magical shifter connection or something? That dog never takes to anyone that quickly. And someone in his kitchen is out of the question.”
Dax smiled up at me. “No magic. At least not any that I know of. He probably senses I’m a dog person.”
“A dog person?” I snorted as I quickly swept up the broken glass. “That’s an understatement.”
Dax stood and walked over to me. Link happily followed and once again plopped down at Dax’s feet. “I’m a people person too. If you’d just give me a chance, I could—”
“Why are you here?” I asked again, suddenly all business as I put the broom away.
“Here in your kitchen or here in New Orleans?” he asked.
“Both.” I placed my hands on my hips and waited.
“I’m in your kitchen because you invited me. And I like you, so here I am. As far as New Orleans goes, let’s just say I’m here because I don’t agree with the direction some of the pack leaders are taking, and if I can do anything to stop a supernatural war from breaking out, I’m going to do it.”
“So you’re one of the good guys, then?” I asked.
“I like to think so.” He moved in closer, trapping me between his body and the counter. “If you don’t believe me, just ask your roommate’s dog. They always know, don’t they?”
I glanced down at Link, who was now lying flat out on the floor, belly exposed and paws in the air. “God, Link. Could you get any more comfortable?”
The dog’s ear twitched, but other than that, he didn’t move.
Dax grinned.
“Okay, you have a point. But you still owe me some answers.”
“Later,” he said, wrapping his arms around me as his lips once again claimed mine.
Chapter Seven
Dax’s hard body pressed up against mine, his long lean muscles flexed with pent-up tension. I ran my hands up his chest, over his shoulders, and then buried my hands in his hair as I deepened the kiss, wanting more, wanting everything.
The fire burning between us was unreal. Unlike anything I’d experienced with any man. It was instant, intense, and completely intoxicating. I wanted him, fiercely and completely. It didn’t matter that I barely knew him. Didn’t matter that he had his secrets. I had mine too. What mattered was he’d gone out of his way to help me, and every vibe I’d gotten from him screamed he was one of the good ones.
It didn’t hurt that Willow’s dog had given him the seal of approval either.
“Hmm,” he murmured, his fingers trailing down my back to cup my ass.
Everything tingled. And I wanted more. I pulled back, breaking the kiss, and then grabbed his arm as I moved toward the kitchen door. “This way.”
He didn’t say a word as he followed me down the stairs and into my bedroom. Once inside, he kicked the door shut then turned and pressed me up against the wall. “I want you,” he growled. “Every square inch of you.”
Desire pooled between my thighs, already pulsing with need. In answer, I slipped my hands under his shirt and slid my palms over his rock-hard chest. Good god, his body was a fucking miracle. “Off,” I ordered, suddenly desperate to see the flesh beneath.
He reached behind his head and, using one hand, pulled the black T-shirt over his head. Instantly his hands landed on my hips. “Your turn.”
I raised my arms, letting him strip me.
Once he discarded my shirt, he stood there, his gaze fixated on my lace-covered breasts. “Perfect,” he said, sliding his hands up over my ribs until he was cupping me. He brushed a thumb over one already taut nipple and then licked his lips as if he couldn’t wait to devour me.
My breathing became ragged as my pulse sped up in sheer anticipation.
“Touch me,” he ordered.
“Gladly,” I breathed, letting my hands fall to his narrow hips. I slowly slid my fingers over his abs, his rock-hard muscles rippling beneath my touch. “You’re incredible,” I said, letting my hands dip lower until I brushed the top of his jeans.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he said and bent his head to kiss my bare shoulder. I tilted my head to the side and let out a small moan of pleasure. “I’m just getting started,” he said and gently pushed my bra strap down over my shoulder.
“God, I hope so,” I said, reaching for
the button of his jeans.
His hand moved quickly, covering mine. “Not just yet.”
“But—”
“I have plans first.” Then he wrapped his arms around me, grabbed me by my ass, and lifted me. My legs wrapped around him as he carried me across the room to my bed. Gently lowering me to my feet, he trailed kisses down my neck, to my shoulder, and over my chest, while expertly unfastening my jeans and pushing them down over my hips.
Once I was standing there clad in only my matching lace bra and panties, he lifted me again and gently laid me on the bed. As he pulled back, the loss of his touch was a shock and almost painful.
“Hurry,” I whispered in desperation as he kicked off his shoes.
“Shh,” he whispered, climbing over me. “There’s no rush. We have all night.”
All night, my ass, I thought. It was already three in the morning. And I had an eight o’clock meeting.
“Just shut up and touch me,” I said, wrapping my arms around him again. The weight of him above me was delicious, causing another wave of anticipation to roll through me. I wanted time to stop, just for a moment, as I reveled in his maleness.
“Gladly.” He dipped his head, scrapping his teeth down my neck and chest until he reached the swell of my breast. Then he alternated between soft, gentle kisses and naughty love bites as he teased me, running his fingers along the edge of the lace.
I arched my back, silently begging for more and then let out a gasp when his teeth gently clamped over my still lace-covered nipple. The combined sensation of the lace and his bite sent a ripple of pure ecstasy to all the right places.
Good God. We’d barely even started, and I was already drowning in my pleasure.
What was it about this man? I’d never been so turned on in my entire life.
“So perfect,” he said, undoing the front closure with one hand to let my breasts spill out. Then he was on me, his lips everywhere, tugging, sucking, teasing, biting.