Chapter Eleven

With all of her senses engaged, Tameth’s sharp eyes scanned every nook and cranny of the dimly-lit street as she walked. Not a single sound was missed, the scrape of a boot over cold concrete, the soft screech of tires two streets over, the buzz of the neon open sign in the window of a pub. Very few people walked the street tonight. Every now and then a car or two blazed by, illuminating the shadows. The overcast sky filtered out much of the moon’s light, but at least the earlier chill had given way to a warmer evening.

With the top of Tameth’s trench unzipped to the waist, a light comfortable breeze tickled the exposed skin at the vee of her stretchy black T-shirt. A pair of her favorite black stretch jeans fit her curves just right. The damned pants would have been perfect if not for the slight irritation of the crotch seam against her still swollen labia—something that was not typically a problem.

Not wanting to carry Alaan’s scent on both her clothes and her skin while she hunted, she’d run upstairs, shucked off her typical Seeker’s garb and yanked on the first all-black outfit she could find. Not exactly tactical, but with scant minutes to change clothes after the romp in the library with Alaan, a woman had to work with what she had.

Tameth moved quickly past a row of shops and pubs, palming her blade through the flap of the fake left pocket of her trench coat. After the last rogue hunt, Carin suggested the alteration. This way, her blade remained hidden beneath the folds of her leather coat while still firmly in her hand. After all, it just wasn’t smart to walk around London with a three-foot katana blade flashing for all to see. For good measure, a loaded laser-sighted Taurus SP-99 semi-automatic handgun sat ready in a holster belted low on her hip.

Rogue hunting was dangerous business, not only for the Seeker involved, but any humans who might happen along. To protect them, Tameth had to be on her toes. She stalked the streets, senses alert and weapons at the ready…and couldn’t get her mind off Alaan Serati.

The boy had skills as a lover, no doubt. And the tornadic orgasms he wrung from her before they’d split up to hunt remained fresh in her mind. And probably would for the next twenty years. A half-block ahead, a couple turned out of a restaurant. A soft sigh reached Tameth’s ears and she could just guess what the man was doing when he put his arm around the woman’s waist, then slipped his hand underneath her short jacket.

Absently, Tameth fingered the spot just above her right nipple where Alaan had bitten her. The skin tingled beneath her bra as a new supply of blood flowed into her swelling breasts. Fingers dipped a bit lower and rasped over a plumping bud. Alaan’s manly scent lingered on her skin and wafted up through the opening of her coat. Skin that longed for a repeat of his lips wrapped around the pebbled tips.

Damn, she’d better cut it out. Anyone looking would think she was hard up and horny, touching her own breasts while walking down the dark street alone. The last thing she needed was a fist fight with some drunken idiot who convinced himself that he was the solution to scratching her itch.

Her vid phone vibrated silently in her back pocket. Raising her hand, she pushed a tendril of hair away from her face and connected the call with a discreet tap of the tiny wireless earpiece.

“Serati-Cole, here,” she whispered.

“Hey.”

Alaan’s sexy voice slid across the airwaves and caressed her entire body, like melted butterscotch poured over a rich warm brownie. Delicious.

Pushing away the immediate arousal, Tameth clamped down on an instant hunger for Alaan à la mode and slid back into Seeker mode instead.

After a deep breath, then two, she replied, “Hey, back.” But there was no suppressing the grin in her voice no matter how hard she tried. “Shift’s almost over and nothing to report.”

“What about the others?” Alaan asked over the rumble of what sounded like a train in the background.

“Alex and Slade checked in an hour ago. They’re looking into one more lead, then calling it quits.”

She bristled with jealousy when the couple in front of her turned into a small Irish pub. The woman’s face was flushed with a big grin spread from ear to ear. The man wore a one-sided, self-satisfied smirk. That damned smirk must be universal man language for “I know how to make my woman squirm.”

Tameth sighed, both bored and aroused. A quick look over her shoulder as she crossed the street revealed nothing and no one, as had been the case on her whole route. Talk about ready to call it a night.

“Look, Alaan,” she whispered, barely moving her lips. “Between the five of us, we’ve covered, what, twenty square miles in all directions? No sign of anyone or anything out of the ordinary. Other than very few Seekers in the places where vampires are known to congregate, none of us heard, saw, or sensed anything at all. That worries me, big guy.”

“My thoughts exactly.” He paused a moment, then said, “Kenoe just met up with me. What are Alex and Slade’s current locations?”

With a quick glance at the small GPS unit on her wrist, she replied with a huff, “They’re less than five miles west of you.”

He chuckled. She grumbled. As Bix’s Second, it was Alaan’s job to monitor the team’s movements. And he’d made it very clear that he took great pleasure in letting the job fall to her as his Second. Damned man knew it was a pain in the ass to babysit Seekers who didn’t want or need watching over. He’d practically crowed when shoving the GPS into her hands just before they began to hunt this afternoon.

“Call them back and have them meet us at The Stag for dinner. Afterward Randall and Higgins will meet us at Piccadilly Station and drive us home from there. By the way, Collins is joining us for dinner, too.”

“Collins? Why? I don’t have him scheduled to go on duty until midnight.”

The bottom fell out of her gut. Tameth turned her head to look out into the street. It was much too quiet.

“Believe it or not,” Alaan continued, “he happened to be taking in a play at the Apollo Victoria Theater.”

“A play? Collins? Gruff, belching, coarse, Scottish-brogue Collins?” With a fake gasp of shock, she breathed, “Say it ain’t so.”

Alaan’s answering laugh warmed her insides.

“Yes, that’s the one. When we get back to the house, he and Randall are going out on patrol as scheduled. See you soon?”

“Yep. Serati-Cole, out.” Tameth was all business once more as an almost imperceptible and unfamiliar presence brushed against her mind. Her gut twisted as a disconcerting chill made its way across her lower back. Somebody was tailing her, and that somebody radiated an indescribable menace. It was definitely a vamp but she couldn’t tell whether it was a rogue or not, or more importantly, one of Lowan’s stooges.

Without stopping or changing her body language, she quieted her mind and carefully eased a psychic shield into place. Whoever had the nerve to try to press into her thoughts didn’t need to know they’d been busted.

Some vampires just couldn’t seem to remember that their world was nothing like the fucking movies. Thanks to Carin’s insistence, hence Bix’s orders, every Seeker in the Western territories had honed their psychic abilities with some pretty rigorous telepathic exercises. It took excellent psychic skill or a bond to delve into someone else’s head.

And this bastard obviously didn’t have either one.

With a deep breath, Tameth tried to scent who might be tailing her but only picked up the strong diesel fumes from the double-decker tour buses headed back to their yards for the evening.

Her footsteps slowed as she approached the opening to an alley. “Psss, how stupid,” she hissed under her breath. Considering her unique leather trench coat identified her as a Seeker, her unwanted company must be deranged to try to ambush her. If the idiot hid in the alley, she certainly wouldn’t just walk into his arms. Instead, she fingered her ear, deftly removed the sparkling diamond stud and let it fall into the top of her T-shirt to rest just inside her bra cup.

A pouty squeak accompanied by a very loud, “Oh, no!” erupted from her throat. Barely ten feet from the alleyway Tameth fell to her knees with a huff in true drama queen fashion.

“My earring! My diamond earring! Just when I thought I was off duty, too! Damn it, this can’t be happening!”

Patting the ground frantically, she waited. And waited. The hairs at the nape of her neck throttled back from wild samba to old-lady waltz as whoever she’d sensed backed off, then disappeared altogether. What the hell was going on?

After a minute or two of dirtying up the knees of her jeans playing super-ditz on the ground, she stood, brushed off her clothes and continued on to her destination. Her gut churned with every step. She might not have enjoyed a fight tonight, but her senses remained in overdrive. Something monumentally devastating was about to happen. She could feel it.

 

 

 

Alaan sat on the outside of a huge booth, forcing his jaw to move. The plate in front of him overflowed with an overdone filet of beef, a pile of roasted potatoes and a small round of Yorkshire pudding. A small saucer held a hunk of bread with so much butter on it he almost looked forward to the cold bag of A-positive Higgins would have waiting for him back at the house. With a curled lip, he pushed another lump of chewed bland fare down his throat. God, he missed Montana food.

The Stag was a clean, well-run establishment with friendly wait staff. A pub atmosphere with a full service dining menu that looked better on the classy plastic-covered menus than it tasted. The place attracted a thirty-something crowd instead of the young, loud college students in some of the other pubs they’d visited during this trip.

“Dang, look at that face,” Tameth chuckled, more amused than she should have been. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so sour.”

“Except when a horde of Clan Hatsept males showed up at the U.S. Western V.C.O.E. headquarters to party,” Kenoe chimed in, joining the fun at Alaan’s expense.

Alaan growled. That was the last thing he wanted to remember. Aleth Sidheon, an accomplished scientist and a rogue—the worst combination imaginable—had been on the loose. The threat to their existence was so dire, the Council summoned all the Clan Elders and their constituents to his parents’ estates at the V.C.O.E. Western territory headquarters to discuss the situation.

A huge ball was thrown to celebrate the collaboration of the clans. Unfortunately Carin and Tameth were on the menu of every unattached male on the property. Then, with the help of a mole, Sidheon arranged Carin’s kidnapping. Bix, along with the entire Council, went ape shit.

That had been the first time in at least fifty years a Clan Hatsept prime had served the Council as part of an elite team. And that male had been on Bix’s team ever since—Kenoe.

Tameth’s husky laugh drew the eye of several men across the dining room. One of the dumbasses raised his glass with a wink. Tameth returned his gaze with a siren’s smile and blushed. Alaan couldn’t read the man’s thoughts but with the wolf’s smile spread across his face, who the hell needed to? Tameth was another story—he could feel her up one side and down the other. The leer on the dolt’s face across the room clearly said he wanted nothing more than to get underneath her painted-on jeans. And she had the nerve to be flattered? Oh, hell no! His woman had better understand that any wooing and flattering would come from him.

Alaan schooled his features into a bored mask and looked her dead in her beautiful almond-shaped eyes.

“If you want that idiot across the way to receive the ass-kicking of his life, encourage him just a little, Tameth.”

She laughed at him. Laughed out loud like she was at a baseball game or something. Damned woman.

“Don’t bite the visitors, dear.” She grinned and pushed away her pint of cider. He didn’t miss the devilish sparkle in her root beer brown eyes. Her tongue peeked out of the corner of her mouth just as the gentle massage of her sock-covered toes slid up and down his cock. Oh, she was so bad.

He’d have to ask her how she’d gotten her boot off without anyone noticing. Mmm, but he sure as hell noticed now. Her toes dipped into the space just below his balls and eased their way up and over. He got so hard so fast it was as if she’d flipped an erection switch and all the blood in his body dumped into his pants at once. It was almost impossible to resist the urge to let his head fall back and enjoy the gentle strokes up and down his dick.

“Damn it, woman, we’re in a restaurant. What are you trying to do to me?”

“I thought it was obvious, handsome,” she purred.

The bond made it clear she enjoyed torturing him way too much. Lifting her glass to her mouth for a deep swallow, she looked out the window while her toes worked their magic on him. Fine, he’d get her back later.

The man across the room rose with an extra glass in hand. After two steps Alaan’s stoic expression fell away with a twisted snarl. Just before a display of fang, a psychic nudge from Tameth and the removal of her lovely toes from the erection straining against his zipper reminded him that he was supposed to remain discreet. But he couldn’t suppress a scowl as he glared back at the walking meat sack. The idiot turned out to be smarter than he looked. He sat his pasty ass down and didn’t look at Tameth again.

But his whole team stared at him as if he’d grown three heads and two cocks.

Alaan pushed his plate away, folded his hands around a cold glass of ale and leaned towards his teammates. Hissing so only those at his table could hear, “Any of you blockheads look at my woman like you want to eat her and I’ll kick your ass from here all the way back to the States.”

All eyes turned to a stone-faced Tameth.

Wow. The speed at which her emotions streaked back and forth amazed him. The woman swept from haughty Clan Serati female don’t-dare-assert-a-claim-on-me to soft and feminine God-I-love-it-when-you-go-prime. Hell, the pressure of all those feelings should have popped her head clean off. Finally, settled on well-loved mate, she dropped the rock-hard expression and flashed a blinding smile to her teammates.

“You heard him, boys. I’m now taken.”

“Good answer, beautiful. Otherwise I’d have to spank you when we get back to headquarters.”

“Oh, damn. If I’d known, I would have defied you on purpose,” she silently whispered back.

“Told you you’d like it.” A good dose of deliberate prime male smugness accompanied the words. “Back to business, hm?”

She winked at him and his insides danced a jig. He was so far gone. With a self-deprecating snort and a fortifying sip of his brew, he sat back in his seat and tried to relax.

“So,” Alaan said seriously. “Anybody wanna tell me why there wasn’t a single Seeker in all of Knightsbridge tonight?”

Kenoe spoke up. “Perhaps it’s related to what I shared with you the other day?”

“What are you talking about?” Tameth asked, clearly surprised Kenoe shared something with him that hadn’t been shared with her. A funky silence blanketed the table like a wet cloth draped over his head on a humid day. Alaan shook it off. This was Seeker business. Nothing personal.

“I asked Kenoe to keep this quiet until we could determine which direction to take. I spoke to Bix about it and we agreed there was no need to alert the whole team without reason. Well, now there appears to be a reason.”

Collins took a large swallow of the brown syrupy soft drink in his hand and quickly followed it up with a gurgling burp. Tapping his chest as if there was more burp stuck inside, he said between hiccups, “Is this the proper place to divulge whatever is going on? Sounds serious.”

Alaan pinned Kenoe with a stare, leaving it up to him.

In his typical straightforward manner, Kenoe quietly gave all the details of his trip to the British Museum a few days past. No one was surprised he’d sensed one of his Clan following him. After all, they were sure word had gotten out about their presence in London on the trail of Lowan Hatsept. But the shocked silence at the revelation of Kenoe’s family tie to Lowan was thick enough to choke a horse.

 

 

 

The adrenaline rush Tameth had suppressed while hunting came slamming back into her chest. Only this time it rode the waves of anger rather than pursuit and competed with the raw emotions bombarding her heart. Her head claimed there was no reason to be upset. Even as his Second it was his choice to share information with her or not, especially if Bix had been contacted. But her heart wanted him to confide in her. Share everything. Have a real relationship. His brow was furrowed with genuine confusion, the bond hummed with it. But damn it, she needed to make him understand.

“Uh, guys, would you leave Alaan and me alone for a moment?”

The team rose as a unit, then spread out to strategic spots in the restaurant. If she hadn’t been so pissed, she would have chuckled at Kenoe’s grumbled, “About damned time. I’m overdue for something stronger than this piss water beer.” The white-haired, handsome-as-sin Hatsept Seeker made a beeline for the bar lounge while a burly, surly Collins headed outside to cover the front door.

Even with her intense Seeker’s training and experience, it took considerable effort to rein in her reeling emotions. The cider, once sweet and refreshing, was now bitter on her tongue. Downing it in one gulp, she set the glass carefully and quietly on the tabletop and discreetly let it all hang out. For his ears only, of course. She may have been pissed, but she’d had plenty of practice quietly snapping Serati male heads off.

“Alaan Serati, what the hell were you thinking to keep such important information from me?”

The man had the nerve to raise one of those thick blond eyebrows at her as if she’d gone surfing in the middle of a tsunami.

“Er, share it for what?”

“I can’t believe you asked me that,” she hissed. He couldn’t possibly be that dense. No, no way would any man of hers be such a blockhead. She was his Second and he was supposed to trust her, damn it.

“You’re very good at that,” he said with a smirk.

“Good at what?”

“Keeping your expression calm. You’re pissed as hell, but you look like we’re talking about having Sunday tea.”

“Oh shut up, you…you idiot! I’m your Second, and I can’t believe you didn’t…”

“Key word, Tameth, is Second. For now, I,” he emphasized the word, “am Head Seeker, woman. Not you.”

“I’m sure I’m supposed to care but…”

“And I spoke to Bix about this. So why the hell would I run a totally unsubstantiated lead, with no facts to back it up, by you? And don’t pull the Clan Serati woman crap on me. When on duty, you’re subordinate to me, not the other way around.”

His argument made sense, but who the hell cared? Fuck him and Bix, too. She wanted to be treated as an equal. Not shut out of his and Bix’s little Head Seeker club.

Then he grumbled something about why on earth did he have to be born into the only matriarchic clan on the planet. Now that did it.

“Because!” Okay, now she felt stupid, but pushed it away quickly. Besides, no woman in her right mind would want a relationship with a man who refused to understand how much she needed to be included.

“Look, Tam, when I stand in my office as Head Seeker or Second to Bix, I’m not your mate and I’m not your friend.”

“You’ve got that straight, asshole. As a matter of fact why don’t we just say you’re neither mate nor friend, period.”

“Speaking of periods, are you coming on yours?” he questioned. For a second he looked as if the big light bulb had gone on in that giant blond head of his, and suddenly he had the answer to life. Idiot.

“And I am not PMS’ing. If I were a male Seeker you wouldn’t leave me out. I don’t want you to treat me differently just because I’m a woman or because we had sex.”

“Sex doesn’t have anything to do with it. Look, woman, get it through your head. It’s not personal. It’s. Fucking. Work! And since you’re going to be all ‘female’ about it, tell me which of our team members I shared this information with instead of you.”

Her mouth dropped so wide open she was amazed it didn’t make contact with the table. Damn, he had her there. As far as she knew he’d only shared it with Bix. And that sure as hell didn’t count, considering he had authority over the entire Seeker corps all over the planet.

“All right, Tam, what is this really about?”

Leaning forward, he took her hands and held tight while gently stroking the pulse point just above the center of her palm. Suddenly Tameth felt beyond inadequate. She’d never gotten upset before when Alaan sought council about a mission from Bix instead of her. Hell, nothing out of the ordinary about that. It was normal and had been going on for as long as she’d been a Seeker. But rumor had it that Alaan used to include Sher in everything, including Seeker business he had no permission to share. Yet he’d left her out, and while she was Second on a mission at that. Her gut clenched as the seething fog of anger lifted leaving behind a dull ache in its wake along with a realization she’d never admit to in a million years—a dead woman had her tripping.

Bottom line: She couldn’t compete with a ghost.

The second the thoughts cleared her brain, he dropped her hand as if scalded by her touch. Looking up from where she’d watched him softly stroke her fingers, her gaze traveled past the soft supple black leather stretched over his bulging forearms, past the center of his chest, and up to his handsome face. His expression was no longer carefully controlled. Lips drawn tight, brows pulled down into a tense frown, the man looked more ferocious than she’d ever seen him in any battle. Tameth sat up straighter. He’d been annoyed before, but now he was flat out angry, off the charts and struggling to keep his temper in check.

“I heard that, Tameth,” he said, referring to the thoughts she hadn’t meant to project. “First of all, I never shared anything with Sher that I was honor-bound by Seeker law not to. Second, I never asked you to complete with her ghost. Ever.”

He rose without another word and walked right out the restaurant door.

Alaan’s presence had been her constant companion, planted firmly in a corner of her mind. Now, the bond was strangely quiet, as if he’d turned himself down to a dull hum. He didn’t say a word the entire way home. Not on their walk to the underground station. Not when Higgins and Randall picked them up to drive them the rest of the way. Talk about the cold shoulder. This felt like a piece of her soul was spread thin over a crumbling iceberg. And she didn’t like it at all. Partly because she knew she’d been wrong. And partly because she simply didn’t like the idea of anyone having this much power over her emotional wellbeing. It was like being on a teeter-totter but not realizing when your partner unexpectedly switched sides. One minute she felt like she was flying, the next, her ass was on the ground with the wind knocked out of her lungs.

But her insecurities were not Alaan’s responsibility, and it wasn’t fair to hold him accountable for her emotions.

However, he was responsible for ignoring her. And if there was one thing Tameth hated, it was being ignored.

She jumped out of the SUV, boots crunching on the gravel as she strolled across the courtyard, through the rear foyer and straight to the back staircase. The wall of silence in her head dropped just before Alaan streaked along the bond as he called her.

“Tameth?”

Her pace didn’t slow, and her mouth didn’t move.

“Tameth, do you hear me talking to you?”

Yeah, she heard him all right. Obviously the man was under the illusion he could blow her off all the way home, then expect her to be oh-so-happy he was speaking to her again. Well, as of fifteen minutes ago she was off the clock, so whatever he wanted to talk to her about could just wait until she came back on duty.

Passing the lift, her feet carried her up to her suite as regal as she pleased. Not once did she look back.

Alaan Serati could just kiss her happy ass.

 

 

Alaan clicked the vid phone closed for the third time tonight and blew out a frustrated breath. Tameth would choose tonight to get all weird on him. The woman was maddening and her timing sucked. According to the call he’d just disconnected, the Knightbridge district’s Seekers they’d discussed over dinner weren’t missing after all—they were in hiding. Smart group of guys, those vamps. Considering they’d double crossed Lowan Hatsept and were now passing information to the Council through their contacts in Ireland, the Elders immediately granted them sanctuary and arranged transportation for them to V.C.O.E. headquarters in Montana.

While the news was a relief, there was some disturbing information as well. The word on the street was an attack was planned on their temporary headquarters. Tonight.

He’d wanted to tell Tameth about it, but she’d pissed him off with her misconceptions about his feelings for Sher. And to be honest, he was getting sick and tired of trying to convince her she was the one he wanted. Let her stew awhile, realize she was being silly, and hopefully come to her damned senses again like she had in the library earlier. The loving had been beyond spectacular.

He doubted it would happen again anytime soon. The frost she gave off as she stalked away from him would have frozen the balls off of the meanest vamp alive. But there was no time to deal with that now.

The mansion was placed on lockdown the second Collins and Randall left to scout. Inside, Slade played Second while Tameth was off duty, checking and double-checking the monitors in the military-style makeshift communications center set up on the fourth floor. Outside, Kenoe coordinated the reinforcements who’d arrived from various districts around London. The teams, two Beta Seekers each, were discreetly placed around the property in a three block radius.

With security firmly in place, Alaan took the first shift and made the rounds. He made quick work of covering all five floors of the eerily quiet brick mansion.

Tapping his earpiece, he whispered, “Dial Alex P.” The phone rang once before Alex’s clear voice filled the line.

“Yes, sir?”

“You up? It’s almost time for your shift.”

“I’m already out the door and headed to the first floor, sir.”

“Excellent,” Alaan said on a yawn. “I’m knocking off for the night. Serati, out.”

Checking his watch with a sigh, Alaan stopped in his suite, shucked out of his coat and sat down for all of ten seconds. He’d said he was going to look in on Tameth, but now that it was time, his pride kept his feet firmly planted on the carpet. After all, the woman was officially off duty and there was no need to disturb her with news of something he was more than capable of taking care of. But keeping information from her set her off in the first place. His desire to protect and keep her safe tugged at his conscience. Then again…aw hell, now he was being weird.

This was different from running a possible dead-end lead past her. This was a possible attack on them, life and death. Alaan would never forgive himself if she walked into a deadly situation simply because he’d failed to tell her of potential danger. His heart ached with Tameth’s hurt, tightening in his chest, urging him to go comfort his woman. God, he was really turning into a total wuss. Bix would certainly get a kick out of it.

Leaving his coat draped across the loveseat in his sitting room, Alaan made his way up to her floor. Knocking lightly at her door, his gut tightened when no one answered. He knocked again. Perhaps she was asleep? He lowered his defensive shields and reached out along the forming bond. Her emotions immediately swirled around him—fear, confusion, pain. His woman was in distress. Had the bad guys gotten in while he’d been on his rounds? No time to figure it out now. He had to get to her.

“Tameth, open this damned door before I break it in.” He waited for the tensest ten seconds of his life. No answer.

Here we go again. He snatched a gun from its shoulder holster at the same time his powerful leg lifted his boot. The door flew inward and smacked against the wall with a bang.

Tameth ran through a door across the living room and stopped short, all beauty and rage, in full Seeker mode. In complete control of her breathing and movements, her eyes flashed dark fire while taking in the situation in mere seconds.

An expertly schooled expression read, “Hello, my name is Tameth. What’s yours?” But her unsheathed fangs and perfectly positioned samurai katana said she was ready to cut his head off.

“Aw, hell.” Alaan looked up to the ceiling and grumbled under his breath. God, just kill me now. His ears grew so hot, surely he’d flushed at least seven shades of red.

The woman was buck naked. Rivulets of water slid down and caressed every curve, nook and cranny of her beautiful caramel brown body. A trail of frothy bubbles dipped into her navel and ran down off to the right into the crease just above the dark, close-cropped curls of her cunt. Her wet mane hung plastered against her back while long black tendrils clung to her temples, neck and collarbone.

Tameth’s razor-sharp blade hissed through the air as she lowered her sword swiftly. She stalked up to him and poked her finger in the middle of his chest. Hard. He looked down at the spreading wet spot on his favorite black silk shirt.

“Alaan, damn it. If you don’t stop using your big-assed feet to kick my doors in, I’m gonna chop off your balls.”

Had she said balls? As in, how great it felt when his balls slapped against her ass when he took her from behind?

“Do you hear me?” she bit out, fangs still bared.

“Uh, yeah, I’m sorry. I’ll call. Uh, Higgins. To, yeah…”

“And stop looking at my breasts, you oversized, blond-headed…”

What? He wasn’t looking at her breasts! Well, actually he was, unsure of when his gaze had slid away from the glare she’d pinned him with. Sigh. Yep, definitely eyeballing the luscious globes of her beautiful, deliciously wet breasts. Breasts that happened to be puckered from the slight chill sneaking into her warm apartment through her ruined door.

“Alaan, did you hear me?” she snapped.

Hell, he’d only heard half of what she’d said, missing pretty much everything after balls and breasts. The wild motioning of her sword towards the door gave him a clue of what she was trying to get him to do.

He backed up and propped the door shut as best he could. When he turned to face her he was rewarded with a perfect view of her firm, bare backside as it moved away from him. Whoa, she was walking away? Where the hell was she going? Wait, had he asked that out loud?

“I’m going to finish my bath, you idiot,” she seethed.

Yep, he’d said it out loud all right. If he could only get the quickly growing erection in his pants to release enough blood to keep his brain working, surely he would have realized she was going back to the bathroom. And he was going with her, whether she was mad at him or not.

Oh sure, her anger boiled up out of her pores—naked, dripping wet pores. By the time he finished with her, she’d be purring. He’d make sure of it.