She shrugged. “Maybe Baissier’s working with him.”
He snorted. “Peg Baissier? Working with a full-human? On anything? What are you? High?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“It’s also a possibility that a lion male might be shy and retiring, but that’s not happening, either.”
“I’m telling you she’s up to something.”
“She’s
always
up to something. That doesn’t mean she’s doing something we can use against her.”
“You don’t know that.”
Crush studied Cella. “What if she is up to something?” he finally asked. “What does KZS care? Or is the real problem here Baissier’s power among the bears?”
Cella picked at dried blood on the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “Knowing that woman as well as you do, Crushek, can you really say you feel comfortable with her having that much control over an army of grizzlies and polars? Considering how much she hates every other species?”
He didn’t answer and Cella looked up, not surprised by the frown on his face.
Cella nodded. “Yeah. That’s pretty much how the rest of us feel, too.”
“I understand, but thinking for a second that she’d involve herself with a scumbag like Whitlan ...”
“According to you, he played the NYPD, the FBI, and the
Mob
. You really don’t believe he could do the same with her? Someone so arrogant she thinks she’s untouchable?”
“She is untouchable.”
“Not if we get something on her. Not if
you
get something on her. And you start with Whitlan. That
is
what cops do, isn’t it? Look into shit? Investigate?”
“I usually like to have this little thing they call
evidence
.”
“Look, Smith’s gut—”
“If I have to hear about that She-wolf’s internal organs one more time ...”
“Check it out. Please.” When he only scratched his head and blew out a breath, Cella asked, “What? What is it?”
“I have a history with Baissier and it’s not exactly a big secret. At least, not among the bears. They might think I’m just trying to ruin her life.”
“You’re not?”
“No.” And she loved how appalled he looked at the mere suggestion that he might do something for revenge. So earnest this guy. “I just want her to stay away from me and I’ll stay away from her.”
Cella smirked. “You just tossed her boys out the fuckin’ door of the Group offices. Do you really think she’s going to stay away from you now?”
“How she handles her own shit is up to her. I’m talking about me. I mean, can’t the Group handle looking into this?”
“The Group?” Cella laughed. “You know how the Group handles really high-level shit like this? They give it to Dee-Ann and she starts killing people with her bowie knife ... that her own father gave her when she was ten. Trust me when I say, you do not want Dee-Ann Smith getting anywhere near Whitlan or Baissier.”
The bear briefly closed his eyes. “What about KZS?”
“KZS is made up of cats. In general, we’re a lazy species. So we don’t do what you’d call actual”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“ ‘investigations.’ ”
“Then what do you do?”
“Someone says, ‘I’m thinking they’re a problem’ ... and then they send one of us in to eliminate the problem.”
Scowling, the bear demanded, “You do that for
every
situation? Even nonlethal ones?”
“Oh, God, no! Of course not. If you just irritate us, then we just come to your house and pee all over everything.” She shrugged. “Sometimes shit in your shoes.” When the bear only stared at her with his mouth open, Cella quickly added, “Not me, though.
I’ve
never done that. Not ever. Because it’s ... it’s ...” She thought a moment. “It’s ‘
morally
’ wrong.” She smiled, proud of herself for remembering the phrase.
“Did you just air quote morally?”
Not sure how to answer that, she said, “Just for clarity?” Probably would have sounded more believable without making it a question, but God, the bear had so many damn rules! How was she supposed to keep track of so many damn rules?
“I don’t think I want to hear any more,” he said.
“Well, I’m gonna go anyway.” Cella tapped the table with her fingertips. “A girl never wants to wear out her welcome. Besides, I just wanted to check on you. It’s the least I can do for my—”
“Pretend boyfriend?” He shook his head. “Explain to me why you can’t handle your aunts when you’re a KZS agent?”
“Contractor.”
“What?”
“I’m a contractor. They call, I go in. Otherwise, I play hockey, I argue with my kid, I sleep.”
“They call, you go in, and do ... what? Exactly?”
“Anything up to a thousand yards away.”
He stared at her, briefly confused. But then his eyes grew wide and he asked, “You can take out a target at—”
“Thousand yards away. Yeah. Can’t you?”
“No.”
“Yeah. I’m good. I get the feeling they want to promote me, though. That’s why they’ve been having me work with Smith and MacDermot. But I don’t want anything getting between me and the Carnivores, ya know? Hockey is always my priority, right under my kid and the family. Eliminating high-level targets is, like, number four or five on my list of things to do.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“Fair enough. And as far as my aunts go, you’re the one who said it was wrong to beat up the elderly so—”
Crush’s eyes crossed. “You were leaving, right?”
She laughed, stood. “So you’ll look into Whitlan?”
“It’s not like I have any other options, now does it?”
“Not if you want it handled all legal and shit. But, hey, no matter what, you’re really helping me out with my family and I appreciate it. Thanks.”
“Yeah. You’re welcome.”
She winked at him and headed out, but she stopped in the kitchen doorway.
“Something wrong?” the bear asked her and she heard real concern in his voice.
Crush watched the She-tiger stand in his kitchen doorway. When she faced him, he didn’t know what she was thinking. She sized him up, her gaze moving from his feet to his face. Walking back into the kitchen, she grabbed one of the chairs and pulled it over until it was in front of him. Then she stood on it, bringing them eye to eye. Actually, she was already six feet tall, so she kind of stood over him now.
“Yes?” he asked.
“You sound suspicious.”
“You make me suspicious.”
“I make everyone suspicious.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Are you really going to kiss me now?” he felt the need to ask. “After everything that’s happened these last few hours?”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
“I could give you lots of reasons—”
“Give me two.”
“—but it’s mostly because I want to.”
“Oh ... that’s a good reason.”
Cella laughed and leaned in. Crush watched her, curious what she’d do.
He’d never been with a feline before. He usually stuck to full-humans or other bears. And considering the issues he had with this one female, he wasn’t sure why he was letting her kiss him now. Must be the curiosity thing. The true bane of his existence. It helped him as a cop, but had been known to completely fuck up his personal life. Then again, it could be that he needed to stop hooking up with women who had so much to hide. They never seemed that way on the surface, but once he dug a little ... well, that was always a mistake. And unlike some of the guys he knew on the force, he didn’t go in looking for something, didn’t start digging trying to find proof that the woman he was currently with was nothing but a liar or married or had a boyfriend or was a certified psychotic. Yet even without trying, these were the things he often found out and that often led to tears and anger and lots of screaming—none of which was from him. Crush was never quite sure how someone else’s criminal history hidden behind several layers of false names and Social Security numbers was his fault, but there you go.
Yet, as the feline pressed her face into his neck and sniffed, he had a feeling he wouldn’t have to dig anything up. Cella Malone was so direct it had a tendency to be off-putting. She seemed to have no qualms about discussing her work with KZS, easily admitting that, “Yeah, sure, I kill people for a living.” She was blunt and annoying and rude and insisted on involving him in the most ridiculous bullshit.
But when her nose rubbed against his neck and brushed against his ear, he kind of didn’t care about all that. Who would? What she was doing felt so good that at the moment, nothing mattered.
Malone’s forehead brushed against his chin, then his cheek, and yet she still hadn’t kissed him. Not yet.
“You always keep your eyes open?” she asked softly.
“I like to see what’s coming at me.”
“Oh, very nice.” She studied him. “You going to put your arms around me?” Crush still had his arms crossed over his chest.
“I’m comfortable.”
“Such a sexy, uptight hard-ass.” She rubbed her nose against his and despite his best intentions, Crush couldn’t help but smile.
“There you go. Now you don’t look nearly as fierce.”
“I figured you’d like fierce.”
“I do, but I’m helping you out for future females. You don’t want to scare them off, do you?”
“I’m told my non-expression is more terrifying.”
“Because we have no idea what you’ll do. Sniff and move on or start tearing off limbs.”
“That’s lovely. Thank you.”
“Uh-oh. The scowl’s back. Better distract you before I end up torn limb from limb.”
“If you’re that worried—”
She kissed him, cutting off the rest of his words.
It wasn’t a nice kiss, either. Oh, it was amazing, and he never knew anyone could have such soft lips, but it wasn’t “nice.” In fact, he didn’t know a woman could make a simple kiss so wonderfully raunchy and dirty. Crush secretly liked dirty. And he got the feeling Malone liked dirty, too, but that she didn’t keep it a secret.
She invaded his mouth with her tongue, fingers digging deep into the back of his neck and head, kind of holding him there. Crush’s entire body loosened, his arms falling away from his chest and to his sides, then reaching around her waist and pulling her off the chair. The chair ended up between them, so Crush kicked it out of the way. Keeping a solid grip on her, he returned her kiss. But he wanted more.
Without thought to anything but the demands of his body, Crush pushed her up against his refrigerator, his body pinning hers there. He let his hands slip from around her waist and travel up until they could grip her breasts, fingers squeezing while his thumbs circled her nipples through her shirt and bra. Her entire body shook and then her hands were pressed against his chest, pushing him back.
“What?” He heard the growl in his voice, and was kind of appalled by it.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” Malone shoved and he released her, watching her drop to the floor.
She panted, gold eyes watching him close. Gold eyes that were accusing him. “You didn’t tell me you were a powder keg about to go off.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
She stepped away from the fridge, but she never took her eyes off him.
“You kissed me,” Crush quickly argued, feeling the need to defend himself.
“I know,” she shot back.
“Then why are you looking at me like—?”
She pointed an accusing finger. “Don’t play coy with me!”
“What?”
“You and I both know what’s going on here and I see now that I’ll need more time than just some quickie on your kitchen table. I’ll need a whole night to work with”—she moved her hands around in the air as if rubbing his entire body—“all this.”
Crush scratched his head. “I’m so confused right now.”
“That’s ’cause you’re not paying attention.” She shook her head. “I gotta go.”
“Why?” And his own question caught him by surprise.
“The kid’s expecting me home tonight, otherwise I’d totally stay. But I’m trying the whole good mom thing.”
“Yeah. Good luck with that.”
“I don’t like the tone and do not snarl at me.”
She took a step, stopped, walked back to him, and placed her hand against his crotch.
Crush jerked at the feel of her stroking his cock through the thick denim of his jeans. Of course, the way those fingers were working him, he might as well be naked.
“Goddamn,” she murmured, then again shook her head and snatched her hand away. “
See what you’re doing?
”
“What
I’m
doing? How is this my fault?”