When A Lioness Snarls (A Lion's Pride Book 5) (7 page)

With that, she blew him a kiss, winked, and then sashayed through the club doors.

What she didn’t expect was the hard slap on her butt as he caught up to her!

U
nlike most girls
, Luna didn’t squeal when he gave her the smack on the butt she deserved. Instead, she uttered a husky laugh and grabbed at his arm.

“Not bad. I didn’t mind that at all. But I’m pretty sure you can do better.”

“You’re a brat.” A misbehaving lioness that he was taking into a couples-only club filled with a deep, booming bass that called to his wild side.
Must resist.
Nothing good ever happened when the beat took over and made a man resort to his more primal side.

The bouncer was apparently only the first layer of security. The next one involved beautiful young women with clipboards, who took aside anyone entering who didn’t wear a wristband.

“Welcome to club Rainforest Menagerie,” the petite redhead announced. “My name is Candy, and since you’re new to the place, I just need you to fill out this teensy tiny form, make sure you understand the rules, and then you can go inside.”

“What kind of rules?”

Trust Luna to ask, probably because lionesses preferred to make up their own.

“Just basics. Respecting other clients in the club. Promising to not drug other members or do anything that might coerce them into acting in ways they usually wouldn’t.”

Boiled down, the rules amounted to don’t be a dick and no meant no. The ‘List your interests and activities’ form, on the other hand, proved a lot more interesting.

Jeoff had to wonder at the questionnaire they had to fill in. Seated beside him on a pleather-covered bench, Luna leaned over to whisper, “It wants to know how often we do it.” One of the tamer questions. She cast a sly look at the guard keeping an eye on them. “Should I count the BJs I give you in the shower or just the sex?” She batted her lashes at Jeoff, and he thanked the fuck he held the clipboard over his dick. Damned woman knew how to get him going. And by going, he meant harder than the fucking steel beams keeping most buildings upright.

The sex question was just the tip of the iceberg. It wanted to know sexual orientation. If they were into swapping. Or voyeurism.

It was the strangest thing Jeoff had ever filled out. But once it was done, and he’d paid their club fee—which he was going to bill Arik for—he and Luna were given their own bracelets and allowed entrance into the next level of the club.

The vestibule was moderately crowded, the dim lighting allowing them to see the coat check girl. Jeoff opted to keep his jacket. Luna whipped off the shawl, and he truly got a glimpse of her outfit.

I think she’s missing part of it.

Surely something went over the corset, the sleek black lace cinched tight around her ribs, plumping her breasts over the top, barely contained by the thin silk chemise she wore under it. The tops of her shoulders were bare, as was the strip of flesh between corset and her hip-hugging skirt. A skirt under which she wore, by her own admission, only a scrap of fabric.

A true dog would have stuck his head under that teasing swath of a fabric for a peek. As a wolf of a certain number of years, he would do the right thing and wait until she bent over.

Luna and the coat check girl exchanged the shawl for a ticket, a ticket that got shoved into a shadowy valley.

“I have pockets, you know.” A front one that she could have groped later in search of the ticket stub. He shoved his hands into the pockets.

“But this way you’ll have to help me find it.” Wink. She linked her arm in his before guiding them toward the double doors, manned by another bouncer, that led into the club proper. “Let’s go have some fun.”

“We’re here to look for clues.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves while doing it.”

The portal swung open, and a tsunami of sound washed over them, loud and thick enough to practically grasp and shape. Teeth vibrated at the deep bass. Skin hummed as well. It was noise, pure and simple, and yet there was something about the vibrating pulse, a primal instinct within its percussion that called to him. Called to Luna and everyone else in the place.

Movements turned into dance, not because they meant to, but more because you couldn’t help yourself. Each step had a shimmy. Each strut forward a bit of a wiggle. The song demanded worship, and the body had to answer.

It wasn’t the insistent call of the music that froze him into place, but what he saw beyond the doors. For a moment, he was tempted to turn around.
I don’t belong here.

Screw the conversation he’d had earlier with Arik.

“I am not taking that psychotic feline with me.”

“Yeah you are, but to soften the blow, I’ll double your usual rate. I’d rather she go with you than by herself.”

Because Luna on her own was not something to contemplate. A place like this was a little more than he wanted to contemplate. Perhaps he was that prude Luna accused him of being.

This is a job. Get over it.

Luna didn’t seem bothered by their surroundings. She linked her fingers in his and tugged him in her wake. They made it a fair distance past the door, the inside busy but not wall-to-wall packed. Movement was still possible and some space still available between the gyrating bodies. While other bodies were so close it seemed like one.

They remained on the edge of the dance floor. Leaning against a pillar, Jeoff didn’t stiffen—much, at any rate—when Luna turned into him and stood on tiptoe. She grabbed his head, bringing her lips to his ear. The impression was one of intimacy. “Looks normal so far. Kind of disappointing, if you ask me.”

He nuzzled her neck, letting the smoking of his lenses hide the fact he avidly watched the room. He let his lips roam to her ear, playing the part of besotted lover. It wasn’t hard to pretend. “Depends on your idea of normal. Most clubs don’t have people making out in cages.” He should note that he couldn’t actually see them. The thin gauzy material over the cage projected only their shadows, but what that shadow did… Definitely X-rated.

Laughter bubbled as she replied. “Then you don’t know where to hang out.”

No, what he knew was he preferred to keep his private matters private. He didn’t understand why people would want to act out intimate fantasies in public. Too many eyes on him made his fur itch, just like too many eyes on Luna’s shapely figure made him bristle.

Mark her and they’ll know she’s ours.

His wolf was really getting tiresome with its suggestions.

“I don’t think we’re going to find anything standing here.” Other than a possible need to suddenly visit a clinic for some shots, as some human, wearing naughty leather shorts and a leashed collar, bumped into him.

Hands pressed against his chest, Luna presented a smile at him, a sweet smile tainted by a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I see Mr. Prude is back. You’ve got that look in your eyes.”

“What look?”

“The look that says the folks having fun in that cage should get a room.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with having a little modesty.”

“Modesty is for those who have something to hide.” She shuffled closer, the length of her body pressing against his.

It was taunts like these that made him think modesty be damned and act out of character. Dares like the one in her eyes that made him grab her hand and press it against the front of his pants. “You should know by now that I have nothing to be ashamed of.” And he should know better than to try to think he could shock Luna.

Where another girl might’ve squealed or slapped him, or even giggled, Luna just had to set herself apart. She squeezed his package, tilted her chin, and got a thoughtful look on her face as she mused aloud. “Seeing and touching, two different things. So let’s see what we have here.” Squeeze. “Decent girth.” Rub. “Excellent reaction to stimulus. Lengthy too, which is always a bonus. Overall, not too shabby.”

Not too shabby. There was a compliment to make a man want to hide himself. Before she could embarrass him further, or insult his manhood to the point that it shriveled past repair, he grabbed her hand. “Let’s go grab a drink.”

This time, he led the way, weaving through the bodies, dodging the pillars with shelves wrapping around and couches where men sat with women straddling their laps. He was pretty sure more than one skirt was hiding some naughty action.

To his surprise, he noticed a guy from his pack on one of the couches—along with a woman who wasn’t his wife. It bothered him. He never understood people who strayed from their mates. In his world, once you made a commitment to someone, that commitment meant something. His word meant something.

How could you betray
the one
once you found her?

We will be true to the female.

What female? And yet, did he really need his wolf to answer? It still suffered under some crazy misconception that Luna meant something. A lioness, belong to him? Only if he had her stuffed and mounted. Those wild ladies were hard to pin down, and even if you did get one to call your own, forget having a life. He’d need another job for bail money.

They hit the bar. He grabbed a beer from the frazzled bartender while Luna got something with an umbrella. Turning around, he leaned against the bar to peruse the room. Luna leaned against him, her closeness a distraction he couldn’t shake.

“See anything?” he asked in a low tone, knowing she’d hear him. Excellent hearing was something most shifters had.

“Lots of folks making out. But nothing that screams psycho killer is casing the joint to kidnap people.”

He sighed. “We are making a few assumptions here. For one thing, we don’t know there’s a killer.”

“But folks are disappearing, and under odd circumstances. You seem to be claiming we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Then what should we jump to? Why are we here if you don’t think there’s a link?”

Why indeed? It wasn’t as if they could flash pictures of the missing folk and question everyone here. It would blow their cover, and he didn’t want to do that quite yet. “That tiger couple were known to come here, and so was my missing wolf couple. We can’t be sure about the third pair. I’d say two out of three is a pretty strong coincidence, but at the same time, we can’t go off half-cocked. What if we’re wrong?”

“What if we’re not? What if the owner of this place is involved in some kind of scheme involving swinging shifters?”

A possibility. He’d heard of shifter trafficking happening in other states, but it wasn’t common. The fact that the disappearances had started around the same time this club opened was interesting, though.

“We’re not going to figure anything out just standing here,” she observed. True. He let her grab him by the hand and lead him from this large chamber through a wide arch into a second one, where the music was still just as loud and the space even more packed with bodies.

In here, there were no chairs or couches to lounge on. The ceiling overhead sparkled with dancing colored lights projected by disco balls. Along the left wall of the room stretched a long bar with no stools. People leaned against it, some nursing drinks, some just standing and staring at those gyrating on the dance floor.

Here the separation of couples was less distinct, as bodies undulated in a mass frenzy, moving freely with the music.

“I’m going to go deep. You keep watch.” Before Jeoff could say no, Luna shimmied away from him, thrusting herself in the midst of the moving and grooving bodies. Since he had no intention of joining her, Jeoff tossed back the rest of his beer and headed to the bar. In his experience, that was usually the best place to find information.

He found himself a spot at one end of the counter for the bar. It took only a moment for the bartender tending this section—a big, dark-skinned fellow wearing only jeans that hung low on his hips, leaving his impressively muscled torso bare—to note him.

The bartender placed his hand on the bar and leaned forward with a smile, his teeth a gleaming white with the exception of one capped in silver with a symbol etched on it. This close, Jeoff could smell bear; the bartender was definitely a shifter, a grizzly, he’d wager.

“What can I do you for?” asked the bartender.

“I’ll take whatever you have on tap.” Jeoff leaned an elbow on the bar, the picture of nonchalance as he let his gaze dance over the crowd, easily spotting Luna’s blonde mop bopping amidst them. She didn’t dance alone. On the contrary, she found herself surrounded by two women and two men. A lioness playing in the middle. It didn’t seem to bother her that there was a lot of bumping and grinding going on, as well as inappropriate sliding of body parts.

It didn’t bother her, but it sure as hell bothered him. Why? Luna was a grown woman. If she wanted to dance, she could dance. If she wanted to let those perverts touch her, that was her prerogative too.

No touching. Bite them.

His wolf sounded just as annoyed as him. It didn’t help that his mind kept trying to make him realize something. Nope. He wouldn’t let it. For the moment, denial was his best friend.

The bartender placed a glass in front of him filled almost to the brim with a golden liquid topped with a hint of froth. Jeoff noted nobody else trying to vie for his attention, so he thought, what better time to try to strike up a conversation? “I’m Jeoff.”

“Malcolm,” offered the man behind the bar.

“Hey, Malcolm. This is my first time here, and holy shit, I gotta say, this place is fucking busy.”

“No shit. Of late, it’s been like this almost every single night. We’ve got people coming to see us from all over the country. Apparently, we are the number one spot for swingers. I take it you’re here with your old lady?”

Wouldn’t Luna freak if she heard Malcolm call her old. “Yeah. She’s a frisky thing. Always dragging me out to try new shit.” Frisky being an understatement.

“Nothing wrong with a little spice.”

This went beyond a little spice in his mind. “You been working here long?” he asked.

The bartender shook his head. “Nope. Just started last week. I was actually headhunted from a place I was working out on the West Coast. They made me an offer to come and bartend. Crazy shit, eh? Whoever heard of a bartender getting headhunted? But the money is good. And the tips even better.” Was that a subtle hint? Jeoff tossed a twenty down. The bartender smiled and tucked it in the waistband of his pants.