Authors: Cleo Peitsche
Too bad he hadn’t been wearing an undershirt because she wanted to be pissed at him, but instead she had a prime view of him in all his half-naked glory.
He’d
just saved her life for the third time. Maybe it was acceptable to want to fuck him more than she wanted to yell at him.
To distract herself, she called out, “Whose car?”
“Bamboo Menendez,” he said absentmindedly.
The name meant nothing to her. “He was a shifter.”
“Yes. A drifter from Mexico.”
She frowned. “How do you know?”
He stuffed the papers back into the envelope and tossed it through
the car’s open door.
“I think he works for my boss,” he said as he slammed the door. “Drifters are the exception to rich shifters, and I saw Menendez’s file. He shouldn’t have a car this nice, and he certainly didn’t earn it in a few weeks’ salary, but the registration is two weeks old.”
“No wonder he didn’t want to scratch it,” Monroe said.
Koenraad turned toward her. In the darkness his
face was a shadow. “We have a decision to make.”
Chapter 11
Monroe was staring at him with large, frightened eyes. After everything she’d been through, his suggesting they needed to make a decision was the thing that was freaking her out the most?
For all that, he couldn’t help but notice the way her gaze traveled over his chest, and even handicapped by his hours in the ocean earlier, he could smell her arousal.
He’d noted it earlier,
too, during all that talk of mating and sex. Of course Spencer had known. That knowledge, combined with Koenraad’s death grip on Monroe, had doubtless influenced the demand that they mate. Koenraad knew Spencer. They’d raised hell together all over the Caribbean. Spencer was more than willing to bend rules when it suited him. He wouldn’t turn them in.
He wondered if Monroe had realized how much
the concept of being claimed turned her on. Based on what he knew of her… probably not. As dire as the situation was, he found himself fighting a smile.
“Are you laughing?” she asked, incredulous.
“Definitely not. Must be a trick of the light.”
She exhaled in an angry little huff, and
that
made him grin.
“Where were you today?” she demanded.
His smile died. It was a damned good question,
and he didn’t have a suitable answer. “There was an emergency,” he started. “I was in the ocean most of the day, and I lost my cell phone there this afternoon.”
It was a pretty weak apology, he knew, and she wasn’t impressed. “It seems I’m always saying that I’ll make it up to you, and I will, Monroe. It’s like the end of days out there. Everything that can go wrong, has. And then some. That’s
no excuse. But I’m sorry. Deeply sorry.”
“I just wish you’d told me you’d be gone all day. I could have made other plans.”
“You’re right. I swear to you, I thought I’d be back for lunch. Then after we texted, I got distracted, and I just wasn’t thinking ahead. I’m completely in the wrong here, and I know it.”
She uncrossed her arms and slid them into his shirt’s sleeves, and he walked up the
hill toward her.
Even standing down below her, he was still taller than she was, but only by a couple of inches. He stared into her eyes, intending to kiss her, to melt away the last of her well-deserved anger toward him.
But his cock wanted so much more than that. The first time he’d tasted her, he’d wanted to claim her. At the time, it had seemed the most illogical, ridiculous thing to be
going through his mind.
Yet here they were.
He gently took her face in his hands, and when her dark lashes fluttered closed, he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers.
Her mouth parted slightly as his tongue stroked over her full bottom lip. He loved how full and healthy her face was, how strong she was.
It was his blood coursing through her veins. The knowledge made his cock even harder.
He was inside of her, part of her. Healing her, apparently, and protecting her.
Though she shouldn’t have needed protection in the first place.
He pressed his lips to hers roughly. He’d meant to be gentle, but he couldn’t help himself. Not around her.
The scent of her skin mingled with his shirt, and he was catching nuances he wouldn’t have been able to even fifteen minutes earlier. Apparently
the
sick
from the water was wearing off.
Monroe made a soft but hungry noise in her throat. He wanted to lay her down right there and thrust into her silken heat. Screw that. He wanted to fuck her in the water. Not just fuck her. Not just sex. He wanted to claim her. To mate with her.
He pulled away, their mouths separating with a soft, sexy kiss. She blinked up at him. He could feel her pulse
through his fingertips, could hear it, too. She was surely wet, her body slick and ready for him.
Heaven knew he was ready for her, too. Even though his pants weren’t all that tight, his cock felt like it was being squeezed on all sides.
But before he could even consider doing something about that, there were concerns to address. “How did you end up out here?” he asked.
She managed a little
smile, and he smelled her sexual arousal become tinged with, and then overshadowed by, fear.
“You’re safe now,” he said.
She nodded. “I know. I borrowed a bike from the hotel and went out to your place. That shifter, Bamboo, ran me off the road. He caught me, threw me in the trunk, tied my arms and legs. I got untied, but I guess he smelled the blood, because he pulled over.”
“What blood?”
“When I pulled my wrists from the rope.”
He digested that. If Menendez had smelled her blood, he knew Monroe had shifter blood. Not good. Spencer was right after all. Claiming Monroe was the only responsible course of action.
“Why would your boss want to kidnap me?”
“I really don’t know, Monroe. He’s not very happy with me, either, right now, and I never would have claimed he was a nice guy,
but… I guess I’d always thought there was some decency in him.”
“Maybe that’s who Bamboo called.”
“He made a phone call?”
“Yeah, a few minutes after he threw me in the back. I couldn’t understand the words. I mean I couldn’t really hear. It was muffled.”
He thought about that. If Menendez had made a call right after grabbing Monroe, that suggested he was taking orders from someone. Likely
Darius. If that were true, Koenraad would personally rip him into pieces, bodyguards or no.
“You’re scary when you look like that,” Monroe said. She wasn’t exaggerating; she smelled frightened.
He filed away thoughts of revenge for later. “Despite what Spencer said, he won’t tell anyone about the transfusion.”
“That’s a relief.”
“But Menendez knows. Whether he’ll sit on that information until
it would benefit him to share it, I don’t know. Maybe he’s thinking blackmail. Obviously something like that would be worth millions in hush money. I’d hoped we’d have time to decide what to do, but if he tells Darius, and thereby the Council, we might not.”
“That’s who you work for.”
“Yes. And they’re the ultimate arbiters of right and wrong in the shark world.” He kept his eyes trained on
her face. “Spencer made a very good point. If I claim you—”
“Yes,” she said.
“Yes?” he repeated, puzzled.
“Do it, I mean.”
Her enthusiasm surprised him. She had no idea what she was asking. “It’s going to be painful. I won’t have any control over myself during the claiming. It’s like… a sneeze. Except longer.”
“And painful. I get it.”
“The barbs…. I won’t have control over myself.”
Her
eyes swept down. “Both of them?”
He nodded, and she laughed nervously. “Well, the good news is that I’ll heal pretty fast.”
“That’s definitely a plus. You’ll actually enjoy it quite a bit, but it’s going to hurt.”
“
Enjoy
it?”
“Yeah. Are you sure you want to do this?”
She nodded.
Chapter 12
“It’s not exactly the most romantic proposal, but yeah, I do,” she said, and she meant it, even if the words coming out of her mouth felt strange and impossible to believe.
Koenraad’s handsome face was somber. “You deserve romance, and you’ll get it. Just not tonight. Not for this. It’s brutal and beautiful and actually quite horrible.”
“Are you trying to change my mind?”
“I just want you to be sure,” he said.
She reached up and stroked his cheek. For all the sex they’d had, she’d barely touched him. When they were in bed, he was on top. When they weren’t in bed, she was usually gathered up in his arms or holding his hand.
“I’m sure,” she said.
“It can’t be undone.”
“Good,” she said, the word slipping out before she could think better of it. But even after
she realized what she’d said, she didn’t want to take it back.
If they were going to do this, they’d have to be honest about how they felt. He’d told her that he could fall in love with her. Now her cards were on the table, too.
“Have you ever had your heart broken?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “Why?”
She exhaled, relieved. “I don’t know, exactly… Maybe people learn things from bad relationships.
Like, maybe we’ll have a better chance if we’ve both been through some stuff.”
“My heart wasn’t broken in a romantic way,” he said, and she detected a thread of profound sadness in his voice. “Listen, Monroe. Remember when I said before that I’m the one taking the risk here?”
She nodded. It was right before he’d said he could fall in love with her.
“It’s the truth. I know we’re compatible,
I know your heart, and I know I can trust you. But if I claim you, things between us will be unbalanced.”
She must have looked horrified because he quickly shook his head.
“Probably not how you’re imagining. You won’t end up barefoot in the kitchen. But you’ll be pulled into my world, and so much of it won’t make sense to you at first. You’ll be dependent on me, and it’s not going to be easy.”
The look in his eyes, a little lost, a little hopeful, gave her a glimpse of what he might have looked like when he was a boy. It was completely at odds with his tall, muscular body. She gently drew her palm down the side of his face.
“You’re a good man.”
His reaction was a short exhalation. He never believed her when she said that, and there was nothing she could say to persuade him that she
accepted him just as he was.
So why try to talk him out of it? She could show him, instead, and later, there would be time for him to know the truth, that she’d been lost since the first moment she’d seen him, and she’d been found, then, too.
“Take me,” she said. “Right here, in the dirt.” Her nails scraped gently down his chest, then she grabbed his bulge and squeezed him.
He moaned and leaned
toward her. His cock was already stiff, the length of him burning hot even through the fabric. She started to kneel, but he pulled her up, lifting her off the rocky ground. His thick erection rubbed all the way from her belly button down to her pulsing nub.
“I’ll need to take you into the water,” he said, his voice a low growl.
Her breath caught. “Do you think it’s safe? For you, I mean.”
“The contaminant hasn’t spread over the entire ocean,” he said. “But that’s not what you’re worried about, is it?”
Monroe didn’t fight him as he gently lowered her back down. She stared up into his eyes that seemed as dark and secretive as the nighttime sky. “I know you’d never let anything happen to me,” she said. “But I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable in the water.”
He released her arms,
and she immediately regretted the loss of his heat and power. “Do you have any idea how crazy we sound?” he asked. He dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m of the water, and you don’t like the ocean. My life is here, and yours is in New York. How can a shark shifter be mated to a woman who’s afraid of the water?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Is that a deal breaker?”
He laughed. “How could something
I’ve known about all along be a deal breaker? It just means that we’ll be spending a lot of time getting you used to the ocean, that’s all.”
Then his arms were around her, and he was carrying her down the hill. She felt his gait lengthen as the terrain changed from boulders to rocks and dirt, which soon gave way to sand and shrubs.
He set her down when they reached the dunes. Wind blew through
tall, reedy grasses, making them whisper. They sounded disapproving, like they were gossiping, and Monroe sighed. “Maybe we
are
crazy,” she said.
“There’s no maybe about it,” Koenraad said. Monroe pulled away to contemplate him as best she could in the poor light.
“I think… I should see you as a shark,” she said.
“Ok.”
“Ok?” she repeated, surprised. He hadn’t even hesitated.
He grabbed
her arm and pulled her down the dune. She had a hard time keeping her balance, but his hand in hers kept her upright.
“Are we going to jump in the water?” she panted.
“The water here is safe,” Koenraad said. He turned toward her, his hands already pulling at her clothes. She shivered as the layers fell away, leaving her naked for him.
She could feel her skin rising in goose bumps, her nipples
pebbling, but she didn’t have much time to feel exposed because then Koenraad was naked, too.
He went a few steps into the water, and she took a moment to enjoy the sight of his muscular buttocks. Overhead, the clouds were only letting scattered moonlight reach their stretch of sand, but it was enough for her to see the horrible scars that marred his lower back.