“You have to trust your partner,” Danica yelled.
Standing on the wooden deck that ran along two sides of the training area, Braden winced. Poor Dreya was spattered with so much paintball dye, she was starting to look like a piece of modern art. Dreya scowled at the curly-haired guy on her left, as if the latest splash of color on her uniform was his fault.
“Don’t blame Michael,” Danica said. “He was covering your right side just fine, but you didn’t trust him, so you turned around to make sure. That means your left side was open, and that’s how Clayne was able to get you so easily. It’s how he and Tanner have been beating you all day.”
Dreya turned and slowly stomped back to the start of the fire and maneuver course, checking her paintball rifle as she went. Danica and Clayne had been pushing Dreya hard since leaving the gym, and she looked beat.
The morning had started off easy enough with a small obstacle course, which had ended up being a flat-out joke. Dreya had maneuvered around the low walls, run along the balance beams, and navigated the monkey bars like they weren’t even there. When she was finished, they gave her a heavy backpack to wear and had her do it again. The pack had slowed her down a little bit, but it wasn’t until they paired her up with another person on the course that she’d truly started having problems.
Dreya simply had no idea how to work with a partner. She’d climb up and over a seven-foot-high wall, then take off running for the next obstacle. That’s when Danica or Sabrina would yell at her to go back and get her partner. And when she couldn’t make it work with one guy, they brought in another. Her latest partner—Michael—was the fourth they’d tried to pair her up with, and he wasn’t working out any better than the others.
It was getting hard to watch.
From all the second-story jobs she’d been able to pull over the years, Braden had always known Dreya was in great shape, and seeing her climb that apartment building the other night had only convinced him she was even stronger than he’d thought. But this kind of sustained, grinding effort wasn’t something Dreya was built for. She was born to be a cheetah, not a bull.
Braden was surprised Dreya hadn’t tossed her paintball rifle into the woods and said the hell with it already. She made a living designing jewelry and stealing stuff, not playing war games, but his little thief was turning out to be a lot tougher than he’d given her credit for.
“Move through the course like you did before,” Danica instructed when Dreya and Michael were in position. “Cover each other’s blind spots, then get to the tower at the far end of the lane without Clayne or Tanner hitting you again.”
Danica made it sound easy, as if getting through the course of berms, walls, trees, and culverts was a stroll in the park. But strolls in the park didn’t normally include two guys like Clayne and Tanner taking pot shots at you with paintball guns. Clayne was intimidating, but with that wild mane of hair and those intense eyes, Tanner looked even scarier. And they were both fast as hell. The two of them could probably run down Olympic sprinters if they wanted to—then eat them.
“You’re going to have to move faster this time, Dreya,” Danica added. “Michael can cover your back, but you need to be the one figuring where Clayne and Tanner are coming from. You’re going to have to use those instincts we both know you have.”
Braden frowned. What kind of instincts did Danica think Dreya had? The woman was a thief, not a cop. Or a soldier. But after casting a quick glance at Braden, Dreya took a deep breath and nodded.
When Danica shouted for them to start, Dreya darted for the protection of the nearest dirt berm faster than he’d ever seen her move, then threw herself to the ground behind it so hard, Braden could hear her hit the dirt. She got up, motioning Michael to the right as she swung wide left to cover him and most of the open real estate between her and the tower at the end of the course.
Braden’s jaw dropped open as Dreya hurtled first over a five-foot-high wall, then a ditch that had to be four feet across. She kept her head on a swivel the whole time, keeping track of Michael while at the same time looking out for Clayne and Tanner.
Out of the corner of his eye, Braden saw a flash of movement to his left. Dreya saw it, too, and immediately turned to run in that direction. Tanner came out from behind the trees where he’d been hiding, sprinting toward her, his lips pulled back in a snarl.
Braden gripped the wood railing, holding onto it so tightly, his knuckles turned white. He expected Dreya to take cover so she could protect herself while still getting a clean shot off, but instead, she attacked.
He wasn’t sure who was more surprised when she charged forward with a growl of her own, him or Tanner. The guy dropped to his knees and slid along the rough ground as he brought his rifle up to his shoulder and fired.
Braden couldn’t imagine how the guy could possibly miss her, but Dreya threw herself sideways at the last minute so that the paintball zipped past her by mere inches. He wasn’t sure how she did it, but Dreya kept her balance when she landed, then snapped her weapon up and stitched a line of green dye spots all the way up the front of Tanner’s chest from crotch to collar.
Damn.
Dreya didn’t have time to celebrate, because Michael called out for backup. She spun on a dime and raced toward her partner, where Clayne had him trapped behind a waist-high wall. Michael was trying to reload his weapon even as Clayne moved around the wall to get into position for the kill shot. There was no way Dreya would be able to get there in time to do anything about it. She’d finally taken out one of the opposition, but her partner was going to get taken out anyway.
Braden knew exactly how much that sucked.
Dreya clearly wasn’t ready to accept defeat. She sprinted across the width of the course, leaping over walls and ditches, moving faster than he would have ever imagined possible. Even so, she was still fifty feet away when Clayne stepped around the wall and took aim at Michael.
Then Dreya did something impossible—and completely insane. Instead of running around the dirt berm that separated her from the two men, she ran right up the side of it at full speed and launched herself off the top.
Clayne spun at the last second and tried to hit her on the fly, but Dreya twisted in the air again, avoiding the paintballs and getting off three shots, catching Clayne square in the center of the chest.
But while Dreya had taken out Clayne, she paid the price for her insane leap off the berm. She smashed into the dirt hip first, and from where he stood, Braden could hear the breath explode out of her body as she tumbled across the ground.
Braden leaped over the railing and was running for Dreya before she’d even slid to a stop.
Shit, this was going to be bad.
Dreya pushed herself to her knees with a groan.
“Don’t move!” he said urgently, sliding to the ground beside her.
Braden couldn’t believe she was even up and moving after a tumble like that. She should have been unconscious at the very least.
“Careful,” he warned as he reached for the arm she’d landed on. “You might have broken something.”
Dreya let him check her arm and ribs, but when he moved lower, running his hands over her ass and hip, she shot him a look that backed him off quick.
“I didn’t break anything but my pride,” she insisted, then gave him a sheepish look. “I was hoping you hadn’t seen that.”
“Why?” He stayed close as she got to her feet, wanting to make sure she could stand on her own. “I never would have pegged you for the tactical type, but that was impressive as hell.”
His words seemed to catch Dreya more off balance than the fall had, and he couldn’t help smiling as she blushed. Dreya could handle a hard impact with the ground, but a compliment from him was too much for her.
“Not bad that time,” Danica called from the walkway. “But Michael is lucky to be alive, and you still never reached the tower at the other end of the course. Let’s set up to go again.”
Dreya groaned. “Again? I’m not sure how many more times I can handle.”
Braden put his hands on her shoulders, angling his head to see into her eyes. “Then don’t worry about how many more times you can do it. Worry about getting through this next one.” When she looked dubious, he gave her a smile. “Besides, if it provides any motivation, you could always imagine how dreadful you’d look in prison orange. Trust me, it’s not your color.”
Dreya snorted, her eyes dancing. “I look good in any color, Detective.”
He was about to tell her that no one looked good in orange, but Clayne interrupted him.
“Come on. We’re wasting daylight.”
Braden smirked. “What was that? That bright green paint on your shirt is so loud, I couldn’t hear a word you were saying.”
Clayne let out a sound that sounded suspiciously like a growl and headed for the far end of the course. Tanner was already out of sight, and Michael was at the starting point.
Braden grinned at Dreya. Even though she was exhausted and probably sore as hell, she smiled.
“You get through this, and I’ll make dinner tonight,” he promised.
She regarded him thoughtfully as she slowly backed her way toward the start. “Can you cook anything besides spaghetti?”
“Sure. I can cook lots of things. Popcorn, for example. And soup, and those frozen burrito things. Give me pretty much anything that can be cooked in the microwave, and I’m your man.”
Dreya laughed, then turned and hurried over to rejoin Michael. Braden stood and watched her. He’d heard her laugh before, but this was the first time it sounded genuine. And damn, if it wasn’t beautiful.
* * *
“I feel like I’m a hundred years old,” Dreya complained as she slowly walked up the stairs to the third-floor dorm room she and Braden shared.
Behind her, Braden snorted. “Trust me, you don’t look a day over eighty.”
She was so exhausted, she couldn’t even work up the energy for a snappy comeback. “Gee, thanks,” she said as she unlocked the door to their dorm room.
She’d always thought she was in good shape, but Danica and Clayne had pushed her harder than she’d ever been pushed in her life. Between the pure physical exertion and the repeated impact with the ground, she was seriously beat. There were some things about today’s training that bothered her a lot more than how sore she was, though.
Like the way Danica and Clayne had kept pairing her up with random DCO operatives. Dreya wasn’t stupid. They were putting her with different people to see who they might be able to partner her up with. That was crazy. As a thief, she’d always worked alone. If she was going to work here—and that sure as heck wasn’t a given—she was going to be like Lucy and occasionally help out other teams on a case-by-case basis.
Then there was the way that Danica seemed to be so casual about revealing what shifters like Dreya could do while Braden was standing right there. Dreya had spent most of the day holding herself back, because she hadn’t wanted him to see her do something she shouldn’t be able to. At least any more than he’d already seen. But then Clayne and Tanner had started running around like some kind of demented track-and-field freaks during the paintball training. Finally, Dreya said the hell with it and cut loose, too.
If Braden suspected anything, he didn’t let on. Which brought Dreya to her next—and biggest—concern. What the hell was up with Braden anyway? The guy was acting like a decent human being all of a sudden. He’d actually seemed worried she’d broken something when she landed awkwardly after taking out Clayne that first time. The terrified way he’d run his hands over her was surprising.
And nice, too—in a completely freaky way that made absolutely no sense to her.
At the time, she’d told herself it was simply a matter of never having someone worry about her like that before. But after thinking about it, she knew it also had something to do with the fact that Braden was a hot guy and that she liked the way his hands felt on her.
She frowned as she walked into her bedroom. It was sad, really. She finally got a sexy man to put his hands on her butt, and it was because he thought she’d hurt herself. Story of her love life.
She grabbed her toiletry bag from the dresser and headed for the bathroom. “I get dibs on the hot water.”
Dreya didn’t realize how sore she was until she started undoing the buttons of her uniform top. While she could handle the bottom ones, she couldn’t lift her arms up high enough to get the upper one without a lot of pain. She gritted her teeth and tried again, but the pain in her forearm, elbow, and shoulder made her groan out loud.
Crap.
“You okay?” Braden asked softly, suddenly at her side and making the small bathroom seem even tinier. “You sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”
She shook her head. According to Clayne, her aches and pains would be gone in a couple of hours, but Braden had no way of knowing that.
“No, I’m good. Just sore,” she told him. “Taking a shower will loosen everything up. Go ahead and figure out what you can nuke for dinner.”
He smiled as he came around in front of her and gently moved her hands away from the buttons. “Don’t worry about dinner. I’ll take care of it after I help you get this off.”
Dreya opened her mouth to tell him that was completely unnecessary, but Braden already had one button undone and was working on the other. The heck with it. She did need help.
A frown creased his brow as he tossed her uniform top on the floor. She followed his gaze and almost groaned again when she saw the nasty bruise coloring her forearm.
He caught her eye. “You sure you don’t need to get that looked at?”
Clayne had assured her any bruises would disappear as fast as the aches and pains. But she couldn’t tell Braden that. “Nah, I’m fine. I’ve hurt myself worse making jewelry.”
He shook his head. “If you say so. I have to admit, you’re a lot tougher than I ever gave you credit for.”
For some stupid reason, the compliment made her smile, though she had no idea why she cared one way or the other what he thought.
“You don’t need to do that,” she protested when Braden dropped to one knee to untie her boots.
“I know.” He didn’t look up as he continued to work on the laces. “But you’re too proud to ask, so I’m doing it anyway.”
In the end, Dreya was glad he helped. She would have had a hard time squatting to get the laces undone. Still, she did most of the work kicking off the boots, but even with that, she needed to steady herself with a hand on Braden’s shoulder, or she would have fallen on her butt. Again.
“You good from here?” he asked when he rose to his feet.
She was tempted to tell him yes, that she could get her T-shirt and pants off all on her own. She was a frigging adult after all. But then she thought about how hard it had been to get her arms up, and the idea of pulling her black T-shirt over her head suddenly didn’t seem so thrilling.
Braden must have seen the look of capitulation in her eyes, because his mouth curved into a smile. “Word of this will never pass my lips,” he promised as he caught the hem of her black T-shirt and eased it out of her pants. “Your street cred will remain totally intact.”
His fingers grazed her stomach as he slowly lifted her shirt, making her catch her breath. She was so caught up in the moment of being inches from a hot guy as he pulled off her clothes that she nearly forgot how sore she was, even when he pulled the shirt over her head. That left her standing there wearing nothing but a sports bra and a pair of cargo pants.
Dreya couldn’t miss the way Braden’s pulse sped up as his gaze casually skimmed her body. She couldn’t ignore the sudden scent of sexual arousal suddenly coming off him, either. She inhaled deeply through her nose, her inner shifter practically drooling at how delicious he smelled right then.
All at once, her gums and fingernails started to tingle, like she was about to go full-on fangs and claws. She’d never felt the animal inside her react to a guy like this before. It took everything she had to clamp down on the urge to shift right there in front of him. If she didn’t get him out of the bathroom soon, she might not be responsible for what happened.
His gaze holding hers captive, Braden unbuckled her belt. She didn’t remember asking for help getting her pants off, but for the life of her, she couldn’t come up with any reason at the moment to not accept his assistance.
Could he tell how turned on she was getting? She thought it likely he could, because his dark eyes had one hell of a smolder right then.
Dreya trembled as he hooked his thumbs inside the waistband of her pants and carefully pushed them over her hips. The feel of his warm hands on her skin was almost enough to make her lose the already tenuous control she had over her inner shifter, and she curled her fingers in case the tips of her claws started peeking out.
When her pants finally hit the floor, she automatically stepped out of them and kicked them. They were standing so close now, she could feel the heat coming off him.
She didn’t know if it was feminine or feline intuition that told her Braden was going to kiss her. And she was going to let him. Let him? Hell, she was on the verge of jumping him, claws and fangs be damned.
But even though she could hear his heart beating a hundred miles an hour, could smell the hunger pouring off him, the kiss never came. Instead, he took a step back and smiled at her.
“I’m guessing you’re good from here?” he asked.
It was then that Dreya realized she really was standing in front of a fully clothed guy, wearing nothing but a black sports bra and a matching pair of panties. She should have been embarrassed, not only by the lack of clothes, but by the fact that she’d been on the verge of kissing a man she had absolutely no reason to even like.
The funny thing was, even now after the wild urge to kiss him had passed, she still felt more comfortable being nearly naked in front of him than she’d ever been with another guy.
“Yeah, I think I can handle the rest,” she said. “But I’ll give a shout if I need any more help.”
He chuckled as he backed out the door. “Any more help, and I might as well just get in the shower with you.”
Dreya bit back a moan as she imagined Braden washing her back—and her front. His lazy perusal of all her revealed skin along with a fresh wave of arousal implied he was thinking the same thing.
“I’ll get to work on dinner,” he said. “Take as long in the shower as you need to.”
She stood there long after he closed the door, wondering what the hell had just happened—or almost happened. The two of them had come damn close to kissing, and it probably wouldn’t have stopped there. Even as tired and beat up as she was, she’d still been thinking of stripping Braden naked and getting crazy all over him on the bathroom floor.
That didn’t make any sense at all.
She reached into the shower and turned on the water, letting it warm up while she took off the rest of her clothes. The situation with the DCO was complicated enough at the moment. She didn’t need to make it worse by getting tangled up with Braden. The man was a cop; she was a thief. There was no way she should be having those kinds of thoughts about him.
Even so, she couldn’t ignore the evidence when she finally slipped off her panties and found out that she was soaking wet down there. Her head might know Braden was completely wrong for her, but her body—and her inner shifter—didn’t seem to agree. She was more aroused than she’d ever been. And that had been with Braden doing nothing more than helping her get undressed.
What the heck would it be like if he’d kissed her or stripped her until she was completely naked? Based on how excited she was, she might have orgasmed right on the spot if things had gone any further.
She stepped into the tub and under the warm water raining from the shower, sighing at how good it felt. Only the sound came out more like a feline yowl. She slapped a hand over her mouth, terrified that Braden would hear her and poke his head in the door, thinking someone had slipped an alley cat in here with her.
When the door didn’t open, she relaxed and let the warm water do its magic. After her sore muscles loosened up, she grabbed her body wash from the cradle on the wall and squeezed some into her hand. As she ran her soapy hands over her body, she couldn’t help thinking about how different showering would be if Braden had joined her.
Dreya closed her eyes and slipped a hand between her legs. Oh yeah, this wasn’t going to take long at all.
She was imagining Braden’s naked body pressing up against hers as he reached around to tease her clit with his fingers when her fangs and claws slid out. Suddenly, she was left with fingertips that definitely weren’t going to work for what she’d been planning.
“Well, hell,” she muttered.