Bronx had never been so grateful for a thunderstorm in his entire life. Driving rain and lightning so close, it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end was enough to send Israel and his team running for their respective cars. Cam waved as he’d sprinted to his truck, shouting something about talking to them later, but booming thunder drowned out most of his words. Luckily, he and Kenya were only a few steps from the covered patio, or they’d have been soaked for the second time.
“Don’t they ever sleep? I mean, it was already late when we got here, and now it’s almost morning.”
“Cam doesn’t sleep much. My guess is he spent too many years working black ops. I’d hate to think about the things he’s seen and done. As for the rest of us, we’re shifters, so we don’t require as much sleep and often run most of the night.” Bronx hadn’t considered how the long night was affecting her. “Damn, I’m sorry. You must be exhausted. Let’s get you upstairs to bed.” He saw her shoulders stiffen and assumed she didn’t want to sleep with him. Grasping her by the shoulders, Bronx made sure she’d settled before continuing, “You can sleep anywhere you’re most comfortable, Cheŕ.”
“Can I sleep with you? I’m not sure I’d be able to sleep in a strange place by myself. It was always so scary on the street, and I—”
Bronx cut off her need to continue, pulling her into his embrace, holding her against his chest until he felt her take a deep breath and relax in his arms. He wanted to howl at the small victory. It spoke volumes to know she’d been sleeping on the street and on sofas in his dealerships for weeks but wanted to sleep with him because she knew she’d be safe in his care.
“Let’s go.” Not the most eloquent or romantic response, but he could barely think, needing to feel her naked body pressed against his. When she started to climb into bed, wearing the clothes he’d given her earlier, Bronx shook his head. “No, Cheŕ, we sleep naked. Strip.” Her cheeks flushed deep crimson as her eyes widened in surprise when he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. His jeans were gone in seconds, and he smiled when her gaze landed on his erection.
“I…”
“Cheŕ, I want you. I wouldn’t deny it even if I could, but I’m not a hormonal teenager. I can control myself. We’ll go at your pace. Now, come on, let’s get some sleep.” Pulling her bare back against his chest, Bronx wrapped his arm around her torso, making certain she’d feel safe in his arms. Kenya slowly relaxed, letting her head pillow against his bicep.
“So warm. Comfortable. Quiet. Safe.” Even with his enhanced hearing, Bronx had barely been able to hear her softly spoken words. He didn’t bother to respond because he’d seen her slip the hearing aids from her ears when they’d first entered the master suite. He hadn’t missed the way she tried to hide the small devices behind a framed family picture he kept on a chest of drawers.
Her physical challenge didn’t mean anything to him, and he needed to make that clear sooner rather than later. He had several employees who were hearing impaired. His company made every accommodation they could, and they’d always been rewarded with talented and loyal partners. He doubted she knew all the physical benefits of being claimed, but she’d learn soon enough. All of her senses would sharpen, but her eyesight and hearing would be the most noticeable. Even the human mates who were never able to shift were shocked about the changes to those two senses. Most claimed mates gained a shifter’s ability to heal rapidly and swore it was one of the best changes they experienced.
“I can almost hear you thinking. You told me to relax and rest, but you aren’t doing the same. Is there something I should know… a problem no one has mentioned?”
“No, Cheŕ, I won’t keep anything from you when your safety is at stake.” Moving his hand to cup the underside of her bare breast, Bronx brushed his calloused thumb over her nipple, enormously pleased when she gasped, arching into his touch. The nub tightened, and he vowed to visit the back room at Catalina’s jewelry shop to find the perfect pair of nipple clamps. “I was thinking about all the physical enhancements non-shifters experience when they are claimed.”
He wasn’t surprised when she turned to face him. Reading lips was probably something she’d been doing for so long, it was as essential to her ability to hear as her aids. Bronx was glad he’d left one of the bedside lamps on—he hadn’t wanted her to wake up disoriented because it was an unfamiliar place. Now, the soft light was going to work to her advantage in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Knowing she needed to see his face, he allowed her to put a small amount of distance between them.
“Even though I hear men’s voices better than I hear women, I still need to be able to see you.” It wasn’t hard to see how much the admission cost her, and he didn’t want her to feel any embarrassment, so he took full advantage of the change in their positions and kissed her.
“Cheŕ, I’m happy to do whatever makes it easier for you.”
“You said something about physical enhancements. Please tell me you weren’t talking about big boobs because I’d have to buy all new clothes. Not that I have many clothes, but I don’t have any money either, so it all works out in a twisted sort of way. I’d probably have to relearn how to walk, too. All in all, I’m not sure what I’d do with big breasts.” For a couple of seconds, Bronx was too stunned to speak, unsure if she was kidding or suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress episode. When he saw the corners of her mouth tip up, Bronx pinned her beneath him and chuckled.
“You didn’t think I was going to catch-on, did you?” Her smile spread until her eyes were dancing with mischief. “Oh, Cheŕ, I will enjoy sparring with you. My sisters have trained me well. I’ve always been miles ahead of my brothers when it came to matching wits with their left of center senses of humor.” Leaning down, he circled the tight buds of her nipples with the tip of his tongue before blowing cool air over both damp tips and watching them tighten into peaks so stiff, he knew they were throbbing in need.
Bronx suspected Kenya would enjoy the small bite of pain a pair of adjustable clips would give her. He’d spent years helping train subs and rarely met one who started classes believing she’d enjoy pain. Showing newbies how exhilarating walking the fine line between pleasure and pain could be was one of his favorite parts of submissive training. During his last couple of years, his businesses had grown so fast, Bronx didn’t have enough free time to commit to being a trainer, but he hadn’t forgotten the lessons.
“I should probably apologize for teasing you, but I hate to set a precedent. No sense in starting that nonsense, or I’d be stuck doing it forever. Sooner or later, you’re bound to figure out what a dork I am, so what’s the point? If you stick around long enough, you’re going to find out about my weird my sense of humor, anyway.” Bronx had to remind himself that even though she’d met a few shifters, it was obvious she didn’t know much about them.
“Shifters mate for life, Cheŕ. We commit ourselves fully to the one person fate chooses for us. Sticking around is a given.”
“What if… well, what if it turns out you don’t want the mate fate chose for you?”
“Fate doesn’t make mistakes, Cheŕ.” She didn’t seem convinced, but he would add it to the list of things she’d learn after he claimed her. The melding of the DNA would not only change her physically, it would also open up her mind to a new level of understanding. He would also experience important changes, including the ability to easily read her emotions and hear her thoughts. He’d also be able to track her anywhere in the world, and it would be impossible for her to hide or be hidden from him.
“Everybody always seems to change their mind, you know, insisting they’ll stay, but then they don’t.” She was looking over his shoulder, and he recognized the far-away look in her eyes.
Kenya was lost in painful memories, and as much as he hated seeing the forlorn expression, he needed to know as much about her as possible. He’d seen submissives go completely off the rails when a Dom unintentionally stepped on an emotional landmine. Those triggers were powerful, and more often than not, the submissive wasn’t even aware of their existence.
“I never knew my dad. My mom said he left us not long after I was born. She told me the only reason she stayed around was because she didn’t have anyone to leave me with. I think she was afraid of someone, but I didn’t know who. The only thing she ever truly loved was drugs.” Letting out a breath, Bronx doubted she realized she was holding, he suspected she was trying to settle her emotions before continuing. Shifting her gaze back to meet his, she gave him a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong; it wasn’t all bad. She could be a lot of fun when she was high or in love.” He certainly didn’t miss the sarcasm in her voice as she drew out the last two words.
“When I got older, I recognized her infatuation with men for what it was—she used them for money and a good time, then when the cash flow dwindled, and the relationship became stale, she’d pack up, and we’d slip away… usually in the middle of the day when the guy was at work. You know, a couple of them were nice guys. One even offered to let me stay, so I didn’t have to change schools, but she wouldn’t even discuss it.” Bronx could hear the pain in her voice, and as much as he wanted to pull her close to offer comfort, he wanted her to know she could share concerns without him jumping in.
One of the most valuable lessons his older sister, Asia, taught him was the power of listening. He’d tried to give a high school girlfriend some much-needed advice on a problem she was having with a teacher. The girl had promptly dumped him, and Bronx had been baffled. He’d been sitting at the kitchen bar late that night, bemoaning the situation to Asia. She’d shaken her head and looked at him as if he was the dumbest man on the planet.
“Girls don’t want you to solve their problems—hell, most of them already know the answer, or at the very least, they know all the options. They just want you to listen while they sort it out for themselves.” She gave him a short lesson in what she called the art of asking thoughtful questions before giving him a hug and walking away.
Asia had bounded up the stairs in their family’s home in Austin, taking them two at a time, shouting over her shoulder that she expected an extra-special Christmas gift when she returned for her semester break in a couple of months. He’d made certain she had it, too. Luckily, Catalina started designing high-end pieces before she’d even started high school. Her inventory was always impressive, and he’d found a diamond and sapphire bracelet he knew Asia still wore regularly.
Kenya knew she was talking too much. Damn it all to hopscotch, why was she telling Bronx things she’d never confessed to anyone? She knew the answer, but it was hard to admit how good it felt to be heard. She’d spent so much of her life trying desperately to be invisible, it shouldn’t surprise anyone that blending into her surroundings was the one magic skill she’d always found easiest. Her mom insisted Kenya’s magic came from her side of the family, but after reading her mom’s journals, she’d learned that was simply one more lie added to a very long list.
“I’m sorry… I feel like I’m unloading a lot of baggage on your doorstep. You probably wish you’d never brought me home with you. Someone tried to shoot you, for heaven’s sake. I’ll bet that’s never happened before. A couple of hours with me, and you’ve already got a target painted on your back.”
“Stop.” The sharp tone of his voice made her jerk her eyes back to his. She’d been speaking to him, but the truth was, she’d been so lost in her own thoughts, she’d almost forgotten he was close enough to hear even the softest whispers. “There were two shooters. Israel said they believe the second was planning to shoot you, but after seeing the first bullets bounce off the glass, they both fled.”
She was chewing on her lip, and he almost smiled. If he’d just wait, her inherent honestly would kick in, and she’d confess Cam had already told her about the second gunman—in three, two, one…
“Mr. Barnes said there was another person closer to the river, but I thought he was just fishing for information.” This time, Bronx wasn’t able to hold back his smile and chuckle.
“Cheŕ, Cam Barnes is honest to a fault. He doesn’t fish, and he walked in here knowing more about you than you can possibly imagine.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I know Cam, and I know my brother. They don’t go into situations unprepared if they can avoid it, and they had plenty of time to pull together a mountain of information about you. Once your face pinged the facial recognition program, they would have had pages and pages of information before they finished their after-dinner drinks.”
It was true the man had seemed to know a lot about her, but she hadn’t thought to wonder why until now. Damn, she’d always tried to fly under the technology radar. Looking for the other half of the pendant had been her sole focus, and she hadn’t wanted to leave a digital trail. Being able to hear and have a place to live had been all she’d focused on for months.
She wanted to be able to dance to music again. Not being able to hear children playing in the park was gut-wrenching, and having people look at her like she was dumber than a box of rocks when her response was clearly off-base made her feel ignorant. Answering the questions she thought they’d ask almost always caused so much confusion, she’d finally stopped engaging in even the most casual conversations.
“What was that thought?”
“What?”
“That last thought. What was it? And don’t bother lying because I’ll know.”
She could feel the connection between them growing and didn’t doubt he’d know if she gave him anything less than a truthful answer. Hell’s tiny tinkling bells, she was too tired to make up a plausible fib, anyway. Telling him how isolating her hearing impairment had become was a relief. At least now, if he asked her a question and her answer seemed to come from the farthest corner of left field, he’d understand why.
“I have several employees who have told me the same thing. A couple of them confided their hearing loss was responsible for more than one failed relationship. Dating often involves conversations in noisy environments—restaurants, bars, theaters, ballparks, etc. Their hearing loss made those chats impossible.” She nodded.
“It’s awful, and hearing aids are a nightmare in those places because they magnify everything. This close… in a quiet room, I can almost pretend I’m like everyone else.”
“Cheŕ, you are not like anyone else, and that’s exactly as it should be. Remember, we are fated mates—uniquely perfect for one another.” She felt her eyes fill with tears at his sweet words and hoped he could see her gratitude because she wasn’t sure it would be possible to speak around the lump in her throat. “Fatigue is coming off you in waves, Cheŕ.”
She knew he was going to insist she go to sleep, but all she could think about was how wonderful it would feel to have this man touch her—to show her the pleasure she’d only read about in books. Before she could reconsider, she leaned forward and brushed her hips over his.
“Please.”
To his credit, Bronx didn’t appear frustrated with her bold move. His gaze softened, his pupils dilating until there was only a narrow ring of color visible. She wasn’t sure what she was asking for, but he seemed to understand. He didn’t respond immediately, continuing to watch her with such intensity, Kenya started to become uncomfortable. Maybe she’d overstepped some boundary or broken some unspoken rule.
“We’re going to have to work on your focus, Cheŕ. I’m looking forward to testing your limits and showing you more pleasure than you ever dreamed possible. The only thing I want more than I want to make love to you is to claim you as my mate. Put yourself in my hands, Kenya. Tell me you understand what I want from you. This is too important for there to be any misunderstandings between us. I don’t want you to feel pressured, and I damned well don’t want you to wake up tomorrow regretting what’s about to happen here.”
She was beginning to think he was going to talk her to death. Fudgesicles in paradise, maybe this was his way of sidestepping. Maybe he was reconsidering—not like she’d be surprised. Who wants to bed a woman who brings snipers into their life? The whole thing was starting to lose its appeal, and for a moment, she wondered if that was the plan.
“You’re reading too much into what I said, Kenya. I don’t want to assume you want me to fuck you into a stupor if that wasn’t what you had in mind.”
Fuck-a-dilly circus. Nothing like laying it right out there for the whole world to see. Why, oh, why had she ever thought she could keep up with this man? But then again, who better to learn from than a man who so clearly had so much more experience?
“I want you to touch me. Sleeping next to you would be great, but it isn’t going to be enough.” She tried to slow her breathing before she passed out. “Damn, I thought it was supposed to be women who always wanted to talk, and that was after sex, right? So, this whole conversation is throwing me off a little. Do I fully understand what you want from me? Probably not. I don’t have enough experience with men and certainly not any with a Dominant. I don’t think reading Fifty Shades of Gray counts as experience—maybe if I’d seen the movies, too.” Shaking her head in an effort to bring her thoughts back to the topic at hand.
“Fucking hell,” Bronx practically growled the words as he pinned her beneath him and slanted his lips over hers. Her back arched involuntarily, pressing her breasts against his chest, letting his hair tease her nipples. A wave of desire built deep in her core, sending lightning racing up and down her spine, each strike sending a jolt of electrified need directly to her pussy.
Her vagina clenched, and Kenya wanted him to do something… anything to satisfy the aching need burning her from the inside out. Nothing existed but the man pressed against her. When she felt his cock’s rigid length pressing against her mound, Kenya’s legs parted of their own volition. Feeling the smooth skin covering the head of his cock sliding through her wet folds made her wish she could tilt her hips, but he held her still.
“We were only going slow until you agreed to be mine. Now, I set the pace, Cheŕ.”
Fudgesicles, get on with it already… before I burst into flames.