When A Lioness Snarls (A Lion's Pride Book 5) (11 page)

“Are you talking about a real relationship?” Her nose wrinkled, and she pushed away from him. “Hold on a second there. Who said anything about this being more than sex? You need to slow down there, wolfie.”

“Are you seriously accusing me of going too fast? You’re the one who keeps pushing me to drop my pants and perform.”

“Well, yeah, I am, because sex is easy. You get naked, you screw, it’s done. What you’re suggesting…” She made a moue. “That never ends well.” She had a track record to prove it too.

“Exactly. At least we both understand that it wouldn’t end well. And this is why there will be no sex.”

“Because you’re afraid you’ll fall for me?” The idea seemed too impossible to contemplate, yet he seemed completely serious.

“Very afraid. And I don’t think either of us want that.”

He was right. Totally right. Think of it, she and the wolf a real couple? What a joke. It would never work. Cats and dogs didn’t belong together.

It works for Arabella and Hayder.

Because they were meant for each other. Whereas she and Jeoff weren’t. Right? Right?

She mentally queried, but her inner lioness wouldn’t answer.

It was enough to keep her quiet for the ride over to his place, where they spent only a few minutes as Jeoff changed from scruffy sleepover partner into slick dude in a suit with those ridiculously sexy glasses.

Rowr
.

The car ride over to the club from his place wouldn’t take long, which meant she didn’t have much time to erase the weird tension between them. “So, now that you’ve had a chance to think it over, wanna fuck?” She punctuated it with a squeeze of his thigh.

He sighed. “Are we going to have this talk again?”

“Yes, because you seem to have this impression you’ll fall for me and be stuck with me as your mate for life.” Which totally scared the panties off her too. “But ask any of my ex-boyfriends, and they’ll tell you I am not girlfriend material.”

“Because they’re idiots.”

“Excuse me?”

“The fact they couldn’t handle you means shit.”

“Is this your way of saying you can handle me?”

Taking his gaze from the road, he tossed her a look that said,
“Duh.”

She sighed. “It’s a shame you’re not a lion.”

“If I were a lion, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“What would we be doing instead?”

No reply, just the grasp of her hand on this thigh and sliding it over his groin. Once again, sending mixed signals. And he wondered why she kept trying to get in his pants.

Since he seemed determined to keep her off balance, she changed the subject. “So what do you think? Is this Charlemagne guy some sort of nefarious mastermind? Is he kidnapping shifters to do dastardly things?”

“No idea, but given what happened at his club last night, there’s something afoot. Something is going on, and I want to find out what.”

“I still don’t understand why they doused the room with the drug. It made no sense at all.”

“Beats me why they’d do it. Maybe it was a stunt to make news of this club go viral.”

“But that kind of news is the type that would bring cops poking around. A club already skirting the edge of a few laws is one thing; a giant orgy is another. Even the cops can’t turn a blind eye to that. And while I’m not a businessman, I can’t see a smart one wanting that kind of attention.”

“Assuming he’s smart.”

“True.” Her fingers drummed the armrest on the door. “Since you can’t find any address for this Charlemagne guy, other than the club, how are you going to find him?”

“I’m hoping we can squeeze an employee or two for info.”

“At this time of the morning?”

“After last night’s mess, they’re going to have to do cleanup.”

“Speaking of cleanup, we need to eat.”

“How does cleaning make you think of your stomach?”

“Because I like to clean off the plate.” She mimed a long lick.

Groan. “Stop it.”

“Make me. Or, even better, punish me.”

He didn’t. Instead, he hit a fast food restaurant drive-thru and ordered some breakfast sandwiches and juice.

“No coffee?” She wrinkled her nose.

“You of all people don’t need caffeine.”

“No caffeine?” she gasped. “Isn’t that cruelty to cats?”

“Swinging you by the tail is cruel. This is being honest.”

“Honesty would be you just giving in to the inevitable. It will happen,” she threatened as she got out of the car, her running shoes hitting firm asphalt.

Take that, evil grate.
There would be no footwear malfunction today.

Without the crowd waiting to get in the club, and it being a Sunday, the road was pretty quiet, especially this time of the day. A few stray cars and trucks hummed along the road. A person in loose khakis and an oversized lumber jacket meandered along the sidewalk on the other side, head bopping to some tunes.

The outside of the club looked less than impressive in daylight, the neon sign dark, the exterior surface of the building painted a matte black. The previous evening, ground-level strobe lights painted it with brilliance and gave it a dazzling aspect. Exciting and pulse-pounding at night, kind of sad and in need of color in stark daylight.

The front doors, a metal set with riveted seams and sturdy metal handles, were locked, a chain and padlock running through the loops.

“I don’t think anyone’s here,” she stated, giving it a yank and hearing it clang as it fell back against the door.

“Not anyone who came through the front,” he observed. A furrow creased his brow. “Which is odd. I mean, the place got doused last night. You’d think he’d have a cleaning crew of some sort in there, and yet I don’t see any trucks or cars parked nearby.”

She’d not even thought to look.

Some predator you are.

Hey, you didn’t tell me to check either.

Her cat gave a mental sniff and turned away.

Saucy thing. Still, though, she really should pay more attention. Things had gotten serious the previous night with that guy trying to nab her. What the hell was that about? She was pretty damned glad Jeoff had returned for her.

He saved us. We should reward him.
The kind of licking suggested didn’t have anything to do with grooming.

“We should check the alley and the back of this place. Maybe they didn’t come in this way.”

A trek around the warehouse didn’t reveal any unlocked doors; the one they’d come out of the previous night was shut tight. The one-way road running through the back was busy with delivery trucks, but no one else. By all indications, the place appeared abandoned. Odd because, as Jeoff said, after the water damage of the previous night, surely they would have cleaners in bright and early in order to prep the space for reopening as soon as possible.

Returning to the front of the building, they both leaned against his car—carefully so as to not scratch it and close enough to stroke it—and stared at the locked club.

“So now what, wolfie? There goes our plan to question someone who works here.”

“Perhaps that’s for the best.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, following him around to the trunk of his car. He popped it and leaned in, pulling out a set of bolt cutters.

“It’s best because whoever we questioned probably would have lied. People who do shit they shouldn’t always do.”

“I do stuff I shouldn’t, but I don’t lie about it.”

He placed the bolt cutters on the chain. “No, you tell the truth, which is, at times, even scarier.”

“Are you scared of the truth?”

He stared her straight in the eye. “Yes. Very much so.”

Funny because the truth frightened her too. A lot of things Jeoff said scared the bejesus out of her. Especially the truth where he feared once together wouldn’t be enough.

So we have sex two or three times.
At one point, they’d get bored. Jeoff would realize she wouldn’t ever be dainty or girly. He’d want someone who wouldn’t think it was fun to randomly arm wrestle for the remote. Who wouldn’t flush the toilet while he was in the shower on purpose just to hear a scream.

Eventually, the things Luna did would get to him.
I’d drive him crazy. He’ll leave.
Or she’d see it coming and take off first. Once a guy cried because she beat him every single time they raced on his game system, there was no going back.

But what if Jeoff didn’t leave? What if he stuck around? And she stuck around. And they became…

Snick.
The cutters sliced through the metal link of the chain, drawing her attention. Another clip separated it completely.

“This is breaking and entering.” Given she recognized a crime in progress, she felt a need to mention it.

“Are you uncomfortable with bending certain human laws?”

“No.” It made her panties wet.

He took a moment to glance both ways. Seeing no one, he pulled the noisy thread of metal through the handles. “Since the place is empty and we can’t question anyone, I’ve got a better way of getting information.”

He stuffed the lock and chain in the trunk of his car, along with the bolt cutters. Before slamming it shut, he reached in to grab a small tool kit. He pulled open his coat and tucked it into his inner pocket.

She grabbed the edge of his jacket before it fell back into place.

“What’s that for?” That being the gun sitting in the holster strapped around his body. It surprised her. Luna was more of a hands-on kind of girl. “Isn’t that a touch unsporting?” She preferred a paws-on approach herself.

“I call it evening the odds and making sure I don’t push up daisies. I intend to be prepared in case we run in to bat dude again.”

“Bat dude? Is that what you’re calling it?” Her nose wrinkled at the very idea. “I’ve never heard of one.”

“Me either. But then again, how much does the shifter community really get together and talk about who they are? We are a secretive bunch. For all we know, there are moose shifters or caribou ones up in the North.”

“Beaver ones too!”

“Okay, now you’re just being silly.”

“Says the guy who is talking about a bat.”

“Well, what else do you want me to say? It’s what it mostly resembled.”

“Says you. I think it looked like—” Her fuzzy mind rewound to the previous night, pushing for an image. She got one; a giant mouse with wings. “You know what. It doesn’t matter what it looks like. The point is you have a gun.”

“I do.”

“And I don’t.”

“Which is probably safer for the world at large.”

She stomped his foot and hip checked him out of the way, not because of his rude remark—okay, maybe a little—but mostly because she wanted inside first.

Some men would bellow or rail or sulk—the worst—but Jeoff gave her sarcasm. “Ladies first.”

She gave him a finger because she wasn’t a lady, as she fought a grin because he’d called her one.

Her back to him, she took a moment to look around. Not much to see. Just a small inner chamber with the bench from last night where she’d filled out that stupid form.

How many times a week do you masturbate for your partner?

None, because she preferred to torture herself.

Since she doubted any secrets were hidden in what amounted to the mudroom of the club, she yanked at the second set of doors. They held. Another lock.

“Hey, wolfie. Got a bobby pin?”

“Lock picking is a pain in the ass.” He ran his hands over the door, checking it out. Then he took a few steps back and raised his foot.

Bang
. The thick sole of his boot hit the door, and something cracked. The door popped open, another dead bolt shot.

In the silence right after, they both stood still and listened. If someone was in the building, they’d have heard. They held their breaths and tongues as they listened.

Nothing.

“I’d say we’re clear. After you.” He swept a grand gesture.

“You go first.” She repeated his gesture and smiled.

“Are you using me as a shield in case someone has a gun trained on us right now?”

She blinked with false innocence and pointed to herself. “Who, me?”

He laughed and stepped in, not once flinching or pausing. A wolf with the balls of a lion.

Rowr
.

Entering the vestibule quickly behind him, Luna was struck by yet more disappointing change. Last night, with the soft lighting and thrumming music, the room seemed such an exotic place. The muted glow of scattered lights had given the space an otherworldly feel.

In the glare of daylight streaming through the door, the rose-colored goggles were gone, leaving the unvarnished truth. She noted the lumpy concrete floor, painted a deep red, scuffed by heels and shoe soles. What she took for a starlit sky was actually sound-proofing panels bolted to the wall and painted a flat black. Metallic stickers in the shapes of stars were sprinkled across them.

It looked tacky, just like the bar itself. She entered the first cavernous chamber and couldn’t help but note it appeared less than impressive. Last night the long bar oozed space-age cool with its glass top lit up from underneath so that it appeared to float. Changing lights aimed from above painted the concrete floor in colorful patterns. Even the shadows courtesy of dim lights over each of the doors didn’t hide the scuffed flooring still damp in spots from the shower the night before.

She wondered if the lack of windows and air in this place was the reason for the musty smell. It didn’t smell of heat, people, and sex—hot, adrenalized sex—not anymore.

“Hard to believe this is the same place. It’s so…dull.”

“It’s the reality.”

Reality sucked.

She peeked around and realized something was missing. The room seemed emptier somehow, and she didn’t mean just people emptier. This was the area with couches, and she found it interesting to note them gone. “I see they did some cleanup. I guess the furniture didn’t survive the water.”

“I hope they burned them after last night. The things people were doing on them.” He shuddered.

“Nothing wrong with having sex,” she answered, stepping into the center of the room to give herself a panoramic view.

“It was wrong. And I don’t mean the sex part. I mean the part where those people started just going at it without control, and not necessarily with the people they should have done it with.”