Bad Blood Leopard (Bad Blood Shifters Book 3) Page 9

  He dropped his eyes now, not looking at her, but she had to keep going. “You’re loyal and gentle and kind. And you have magic in your hands.” She reached out tentatively and took his hands, caressing them with her thumb.

  “Right,” he said. “I can’t even nail two boards together without fucking it up.”

  She shook her head. “You’re kind to everyone but yourself,” she said, wanting him to see himself the way she saw him. “You make music, and that’s magic.”

  He gave a disbelieving half-laugh, but he raised his eyes to hers again. Rain on water, gray and serious.

  “I’m glad you didn’t die,” she said. She ran her fingers ever so lightly up the deep scratches on his arm. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  He gave a gentle tug on her hand, and pulled her toward him. Their bodies fit together perfectly, like they’d been made for each other, her soft curves molding to his lean hard muscles. Her arms slipped around his waist, and she rested her cheek on his chest with a sigh.

  He'd forgiven her.

  She felt the tension seeping out of his muscles. It felt so good, just to have someone to hold, skin to skin so there was no barrier between them.

  He stroked her back, her hair, ran his fingers gently down the side of her face. She tilted her head up, and he captured her lips with his.

  It was even better than before. Whatever had passed between them in the forest, whatever she’d said to him now, it had formed a bond between them. He sipped at her lips and she savored the taste of him, the way he felt against her, how she could spend all night just kissing him.

  Sloan deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue in between her lips, tasting her like she was something so delicious he would never get enough of it.

  She tried to make him feel the same, to make him feel happy and valued, like he mattered. To chase his sorrow away.

  He let out a little sigh, as if he were letting go of some of the burden that weighted him down. Caitlyn pressed against him, feeling her soft breasts crushed against his hard chest. Heaven.

  His cock swelled, pressing urgently between them. It felt strange, yet at the same time familiar and right. He wanted her, and she loved that.

  He slid his hand down the curve of her back, cupping her ass gently, pressing her more tightly against him. The length of his shaft lay tight against her core, where he’d stroked her earlier.

  Oh. She gave a tiny gasp. That felt… amazing. She rolled her hips slightly to feel all of him.

  He made a noise halfway between a groan and a purr. Holy hell, that was sexy. She was damp with wanting him, and the feeling of him moving against her was intoxicating. She felt desperate for everything he could give her—warmth and comfort and fire and excitement.

  He pulled back, releasing the pressure slightly, sipping softly at her lips.

  She couldn’t help but give a little disappointed whimper. “Do that again,” she said.

  She felt him smile against her lips. “If I do that again, you’re not going to end up being a unicorn much longer,” he said.

  “Glitter poop is overrated,” she said, making him laugh. “No one wants to look at it anyway.” She pressed herself against him again.

  “Sheeyit, stop that, woman,” he said. “You’re driving me crazy.” But he was smiling.

  “I thought that was the idea,” she said wickedly.

  “Well, yeah, I guess it is.”

  She giggled softly. He brushed her hair back from her face, smoothing his fingers down her neck. “But I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for.”

  She’d thought she adored this man, but now she adored him even more. “I think I feel one of those bad girl moments coming on,” she said. She slid her hand down and ran it over his hip, then trailed her fingers slowly up his shaft. “I want to feel you inside me. I want you to make love to me.”

  His eyes had glazed over as she touched him, and he focused with difficulty, looking into her eyes. “You sure?”

  She nodded. “More sure than I’ve been about anything, in a long time.”

  Chapter 17

  They lay next to one another on the bed, exploring each other’s bodies with gentle touches and slow strokes.

  It felt amazing to be able to touch every part of Sloan, to see him close his eyes halfway like a contented cat when she ran her fingers over taut pecs or traced the lines of the muscles that ran from his hips down to his erection.

  It was huge, so huge it made her excited and nervous to think about feeling it inside her. She watched Sloan’s face as she stroked it, loving his sudden shuddering intake of breath, the way his muscles clenched and his hips rolled, as if he couldn’t help himself.

  Just the way she felt when he stroked her, like she just had to surrender to the sensation and let it carry her away. It was exciting and somehow humbling, having that much power over him.

  Being able to make him feel that good.

  Impulsively, she leaned down and kissed the head of his shaft, and then licked it slowly, watching his face.

  His eyes just about rolled up in his head. “Oh, God,” he said. “Don’t start that, babe, or this is going to be over in about two minutes.”

  She licked him again. “Don’t you like it?” she asked innocently.

  He gave a shuddering laugh. “Yeah, I like it, you wicked spook. But you make me so hot I feel like I’m about to come right now.”

  “Oh.” She did it again, just to see him squirm. “Isn’t that the idea?”

  “Yeah, but I—Jesus fuck, woman.” He lost his words for a minute. “It’s… ah… considered proper etiquette for the woman to come first… shit.” He gasped again. “You wouldn’t want to go against proper etiquette. Being a good girl, and all.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, blowing softly on his shaft. His hips bucked. “I’m afraid I’m turning into a very bad girl.”

  He took a deep breath, and then in one smooth movement he reversed their positions. He kissed her body, worshiping her with his hands and lips and tongue. He nipped gently at her breast, worrying the nipple with his teeth, and then licked it.

  “Oh…” she murmured, and then “Oh!”

  Spreading her thighs, he kissed all the way down her belly to her core. Then, with a wicked grin, he licked her clit—very, very slowly. He blew a soft breath onto her, and the sensation made her arch upwards.

  “Is that what I did?” she asked.

  “Mmm hmm. Now I’m going to get my revenge.”

  “I surrender,” she said breathlessly.

  “Too late.” He began licking her again—her entrance, her slick wet folds, her sensitive nub. She couldn’t hold herself still, moving against him, letting the sensations take her over. This was even better than when he’d touched her in the fort earlier, a thousand times better. That wild erotic tension built inside her again, until she wanted to burst into a million pieces, and still it didn’t stop.

  She cried out, clutching Sloan’s shoulder with one hand and the bedsheets in the other, as she came in a crashing wave. He used his mouth to coax out every aftershock, until she was spent and panting.

  But it still wasn’t everything she wanted. “I want to feel you,” she whispered. “I want you inside me.”

  He moved on top of her, resting on his elbows, and cupped her head with one strong hand. He kissed her, softly, and she felt the head of his shaft at her entrance.

  “This might hurt,” he said. “Just a little, and just for a minute.”

  She nodded. He linked one arm under her knee and pulled it up toward her chest, spreading her wide. Then he eased inside her, very slowly.

  “Look in my eyes,” he whispered. “See how beautiful you are.”

  She gazed at those rain-gray eyes, seeing how vulnerable he was, and how strong, how open to his emotions.

  He dropped his lips to hers and pushed into her further. Caitlyn felt a momentary pain, but almost before it could register he was all the way inside her, filling her.

  Joi
ning them, making her complete.

  Her eyes opened, and she breathed out a small sigh, relaxing into the sensation.

  She smiled at Sloan, stroking his cheek. “That’s… it’s amazing. It’s…”

  It was perfect. He began moving, slowly at first, sliding out of her and moving back in. Each time he thrust inside her was like a new revelation, a new sensation. She relaxed, moving with him, feeling that now-familiar energy gathering at the base of her spine, moving upward and outward, sending sparks through her whole body.

  She felt like someone had lit a fire in her chest, and then suddenly she could sense Sloan’s animal, so different from hers, and yet they fit together. Creatures of the snow country, made of cold frost, of sun sparkling on the white drifts.

  She felt herself flying under the winter sun, Sloan’s leopard running beneath her, kicking up clouds of powder that landed on her feathers like cool sparks. She swooped down, enfolding him with her wings, and lifted him off the ground.

  And then they were rising into the sky, exploding like fireworks, running off the edge of the cliff and into pure sensation. She spread her wings, him still holding her tight, and they floated gently down to the ground.

  Afterwards they lay entwined, barely able to let go of each other. But they still needed to talk, and eventually the conversation turned to Jared, the Agency, and Kayisha.

  Sloan listened as she told him her whole story. Some of the parts about Jared were hard to talk about, especially because they made Sloan so furious.

  “Jared thinks… well, I guess he thinks I’m crazy for doing this.” She hunched up, wrapping her arms around his knees. She tried to make a joke. “He thinks I need constant adult supervision.”

  “Are you kidding?” Sloan said. He was pacing around the bed, looking like his leopard was going to burst out any moment. “You saved my life.”

  He sat down next to her, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck. “You gave up everything to try to help a fucking stranger. You’re smart. Brave. Resourceful. Compassionate. Determined. Badass.” He punctuated each word with a kiss. “Nobody gets to treat you like you’re nothing. Don’t listen to his fucking shit. Ever. And if I ever see him, remind me to bleed him.”

  She hugged him to her, close to tears. Her beautiful leopard, who hated fighting, was ready to take on Jared for her.

  “I’m more worried about you,” she said. “The background report Jared sent me, it said you did all kinds of terrible things. I don’t believe them,” she assured him. “But it’s enough that they could come after you, if they wanted.”

  Sloan grew quiet, his eyes distant. “Hopefully, they have enough else on their plates that they won’t have time to worry about a four-year-old case. When you get a chance, let me see that report, so I know what we’re dealing with. But Jared doesn’t know where you are, does he?”

  Caitlyn shook her head. “I covered my tracks. He knows I’m in the Nashville area, but he said he lost me after the first motel I was in. He keeps asking me where I am.”

  “Then we should be okay, at least for a while.” He dropped another kiss on her. “So I think we should forget about Jared Fucking Donnelly, so I can teach you some more about wild leopard sex.”

  Chapter 18

  Later that night, when Caitlyn was asleep, Sloan got out his laptop and a gizmo he’d borrowed from Flynn’s stash a while back, that masked a computer’s ISP. He set it up, and went to a dark website he hadn’t visited in a long time. Once there, he entered a private chat room.

  It looked like no one had been there in years. Not surprising. It was something Charlie had set up, when they worked together in special ops.

  Caitlyn said that Korchak was the only one of their team who had never been found. Maybe he was dead, but maybe—like Sloan—he’d just gone underground.

  And if he was still alive, he was the only one who might know what really happened the day Kayisha died.

  Of course, since Sloan hadn’t killed her and taken the artifact, it was possible that Korchak had. But if that was the case, all the more reason to find him—and kill him.

  He left a coded message in the chat room. He knew it was a long shot; even if Korchak was alive he might not check the chat room for months, if ever.

  But it was worth a try.

  The next morning when Sloan stepped out onto his front porch, there was a dead mole on the doormat.

  “What the hell?” he said, jumping back. The thing wasn’t even fresh—it had been dead at least a day.

  And it was covered in… was that glitter?

  “Xander!” he yelled.

  “You rang?” Xander appeared on the porch of his trailer, fully dressed for the day, sunglasses hiding any expression in his eyes.

  “What the fuck is this?”

  “Why, I have no idea. What does it look like?”

  “It looks like a fucking dead disco animal.”

  “Well, your girlfriend should like that,” Xander said. “The dead part, anyway. She’s a carnivore, right?”

  Sloan straightened up. Caitlyn hadn’t told anybody but him what her animal was. “How would you know?”

  Xander shrugged. “I saw you two come back last night. Wouldn’t have guessed owl. They’re supposed to be wise, and she picked you, so…”

  He pulled out one of his knives, tossing it from hand to hand. “But then… snow leopard. Snowy owl. I guess you match.”

  Caitlyn ducked under Sloan’s arm and squatted down to get a good look at the dead thing. “I’ve heard that some animals bring little presents and leave them at the door when they want to be your friend,” she said, mouth twitching. “Maybe there’s a stray cat in the area. We should leave a bowl of milk out.”

  There was a faint snort from Xander as he strolled away towards the main house and coffee. “Leave some whiskey out, and you just might have something there.”

  Sloan just shook his head. He couldn’t tell where the explode-o-meter was at, but obviously Xander knew about the change in his relationship with Caitlyn. He just hoped it didn’t send Xander into a tailspin.

  The next morning it was a dead rat on the doorstep. The day after that, a possum. Sloan was getting pissed. Not only were these “gifts” making his “Get the fuck out” unwelcome mat smell, there was now glitter in every crevice within three feet of his front door, and it was impossible to get rid of.

  “Forget it,” Caitlyn said, when she saw him with the hand vac. “Glitter is forever. You can never get rid of it all. The only things that are going to survive the nuclear holocaust are cockroaches and glitter.”

  “I don’t know what the fuck Xander is up to,” he said. “I don’t know if he’s welcoming you in his own bizarre way, or trying to scare you off. And he won’t talk to me.”

  Caitlyn looked thoughtful. Then she said, “Let me try. I have an idea.”

  She went shopping after work, not telling him where she was going. She came back with a large shopping bag from Create-a-Friend Workshops, a brown paper bag, and another bag from the Pet Center.

  “Shit,” Sloan said. “Do I even want to know what you’re doing?”

  “Yup,” she said. “Because you’re going to help.”

  The Pet Center bag held a white glazed ceramic bowl with a cartoon picture of a black cat on it and the word “MILK” in cutesy letters. Sloan started laughing as soon as he saw it.

  Caitlyn opened the Create-a-Friend bag. In it was a stuffed panther about a foot tall. It was dressed in a custom outfit—black jeans with a cutout for the tail, a black t-shirt, a glittery black leather vest, and rapper shades.

  With its throat cut and stuffing coming out.

  Attached to its chest, under the vest, was a red heart. “What’s this?” Sloan asked.

  Caitlyn said, “I went to that place in the mall where they custom-build the animals. When they stuff them, they make a big deal about putting a heart inside. But Xander wears his heart on the outside. It’s just camouflaged. So that’s what I told them to do.”r />
  Sloan crooked his arm around her neck and gave her a kiss. He had no idea she got Xander so well. Homicide and heart, all in one bizarre package.

  “What’s in the brown paper bag?” he asked.

  Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “Whiskey, of course.”

  Sloan whistled when he saw it. It was a pint bottle of very nice whiskey. Caitlyn tied a black satin bow around the neck of the bottle, and then laid it in the milk bowl at a rakish angle.

  “There you go,” she said. “We’re ready. We’ll sneak over while Xander’s watching America’s Serial Killers and put it on his doorstep.”

  “Why not wait until later?”

  “Because he has to find it when he’s on the way to our doorstep. If we don’t get there first, it’s not as fun.”

  Sneaking over to Xander’s when he was still awake and on the alert turned out to involve a whole lot of tripping over things, giggling, and incomprehensible sign language from Caitlyn, and muffled cursing from him. But finally they had the gifts arranged to her liking, and they sneaked away.

  Of course Xander heard them. As soon as they were back inside Sloan’s trailer, peeking out the window from behind the curtains, he came out onto his porch.

  He first picked up the panther, examining it closely. Then he picked up the bowl with the whiskey. He glanced over at Sloan’s trailer. A slight smile touched his face, and then he carried the gifts back inside and shut the door, still smiling.

  There were no unwelcome-mat gifts for two mornings. On the third morning, Caitlyn went out first, to find a dead field mouse on the doorstep.

  Beneath it was a small envelope.

  Puzzled, she moved the mouse and picked up the envelope. Inside were concert tickets. Trent Gregory Madison, solo guitarist, this weekend in Asheville, North Carolina. The sold-out concert she and Sloan were both dying to go to.

  “Cait?” Sloan called from inside. “Have you seen my—” He broke off. “What’s that?”

  Caitlyn dashed tears away from her eyes, sniffling. She couldn’t help it. “It’s a dead field mouse.”