Dogfight (Alpha MC: The McKinnon Brothers Book 1) (8 page)

“Why not? What do you care?”

“I don’t. But, Frankie will catch you. And if you run, he might call in more of his men to help find you. I have a job to do and it doesn’t include a fight with his entire crew. Just Frankie, and any witnesses.”

She stared at him, comprehension darkening her thoughts. “Me?”

He only stared at her, his eyes unreadable.

She glared at him. “If you’re going to kill me anyway, why not just let Frankie do it? Why not kill me now?”

She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

“All right,” he said and started toward her.

She backed away, into the wall. Connor reached her, and wrapped a hand around her throat, squeezing lightly. Was she going to die now? All because of her stupid, bleeding heart. Who was she kidding? She was Casey Keene, and she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

She dropped her bag, ready to take him on, but Connor grabbed her hands and squeezed her throat a little tighter. His face was close to hers and she watched, in horror, as his fangs slid into view.

“Not ready to die?” the growl in his voice was more prominent, deeper and less human. He released her, but stayed close, too close. “Don’t worry, I haven’t decided if I’m going to kill you yet.”

“Why not?” Shut up, Casey, she thought.

He shrugged. “The alphas will demand I kill you, and I’ve never disobeyed an order. I’ve been feeling rebellious lately.”

“Really?”

He smiled down at her. “Maybe. Maybe I’m hoping you’ll try to convince me.”

It took her a moment to catch on, and when she did, an actual spark of hope flared in her. It made her sick, but if she had used sex to gain access to Frankie’s life, she wasn’t below using it to save hers.

But he laughed, the sound quiet and deep. “You want to live?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then it’s not me you have to convince.”

She glanced out the window, wondering where Frankie had got to and hoping he never came back. “I can’t.” Her voice sounded small.

“You have to. He’ll kill you if you don’t.”

She glared at him. “Why do you care?”

His eyes bore into hers, searching for… what? He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t. But I went to a lot of trouble to get you here. Would be a waste of my time if you just gave up or got caught running.”

He didn’t care. Why would he? She didn’t care about him. She was going to leave him here at Frankie’s mercy. But he wouldn’t have been at Frankie’s mercy; he was a fucking werewolf. The man could handle himself.

“Tell me what to do,” she said, resigned.

“No more fighting?”

“Just tell me.”

“Act like he’s the only man you’ve ever loved and let him fuck your brains out.”

She frowned. “You are so tactless.”

“No room for tact in sex, love.”

She looked at him quickly, the endearment catching her off guard, but his face was a mask of indifference.

“It might not work.”

“No, but what else can you do?”

There was no way she was going to be able to do this. Faking it when they were miles and miles away, so far from the horror, was easier than faking it when the scent of death hung in the air.

Connor stood before her, watching the thoughts run through her head. Was he really a werewolf? Who was she more afraid of, Connor, the monster who seemed to, for whatever reason, be trying to help her, or Frankie, the murderer, the psychopath?

Even without his fangs, Connor sent fear spiking into her belly. Or was that something else? But she hated Frankie. Connor was myth. Frankie was real evil.

She could die if that’s what Frankie decided. Maybe Connor could help her.

“Show me,” she said.

“Pardon?”

She squared her shoulders, meeting those eyes. “I have to pretend I’m enjoying letting Frankie fuck me, and you seem to think you’re an expert. Show me. Fuck me now and let me practice.”

He smiled, his amusement irritating. “I already did.”

“That was not a fuck.”

“I’m not Frankie.”

“No. He disgusts me. But fear and disgust are close enough, right?”

“You’re afraid of me?”

“Of course I am. You’re a werewolf.”

He frowned. “Shifter.”

“Whatever.”

His eyes searched her face. She did all she could to appear calm, but her heart was racing and she knew he could hear it.

“Sex is a deep thing, Casey. You don’t want to go giving it out to just anyone.”

“Sex is unimportant,” she said quickly, beginning to lose her nerve. “The only thing that matters is acting like I enjoy it. If I can do that with you, then I can do it with Frankie.”

“Ah,” he said, understanding lighting his eyes. “We’re both monsters.”

“So?” she said, the wall holding her up as her knees trembled.

For a moment that lasted forever, Connor stared at her, his eyes probing hers, their blue-green depths deeper than the sea, his thoughts just as unfathomable.

Finally, he cocked an eyebrow.

“Should I shift first?” he asked, and his fangs slid out.

“No!” she didn’t yell, but he got the message. His fangs slid back in, and he laughed.

“Very well.” He reached for her belt and began to loosen it. The button and zipper on her jeans followed, his hands gentle enough to lull into her into a sense of safety. “You’re sure?” he said.

She took a shaky breath, meeting the heat in his eyes with her own. “Just get it over with.”

He grinned and leaned toward her. She froze. His breath was warm in her ear when he spoke. “You’re supposed to act like you’re enjoying it.”

Shit. They’d barely started and already she was a scared mess. Still leaning against the wall, Casey yanked Connor’s belt off and unbuttoned his jeans. She hesitated only a moment before sliding her hand into his pants and finding him, hard and huge.

His growl in her ear did odd things to her. On the one hand, she was terrified he would shift and devour her, and on the other, his voice sent heat into her belly and all she wanted was his mouth on her.

“Better,” he said. “How should we play this?” His hand slipped inside the back of her shorts, cupping her ass, his fingers spreading her cheeks. “Slow and sensual or fast and rough?”

She was having a hard time catching her breath. “Fast,” she said, her voice breathy. Frankie could back in at any moment and then they’d really be fucked. “Make it fast.”

“You got it.” He yanked her shorts down over her boots, leaving those on, and opened her shirt. He glanced down at her unmoving hand in his jeans. “Do better than that, love.”

She squeezed him, feeling him throb in her hand. His breath caught, and a smile ghosted his lips. “Come on, Casey” he growled. “Convince me you want it.”

She slid her hand up and down, milking him. He shook his head, glaring at her. “I’m not convinced.”

“What the fuck do you want from me? I thought I was supposed to be giving up control? Let him have his way with me?”

“All right,” he said, and he pushed her thighs apart. She gasped as he thrust his fingers into her hard enough that he lifted her feet off the ground for a moment. “Your turn, Miss Keene.”

He pumped his fingers hard and fast. She matched his rhythm, coaxing a quiet groan from him. Triumph made her smile, but it didn’t last long.

Connor bent his head, sucking a nipple into his mouth, and she jerked in his arm. She arched back, swallowing her moan. If he kept that up, she thought, she would come just from his tongue on her breast.

As if he could read her mind, Connor lifted his head, his grin devious. His fingers left her, and she whimpered. When he smiled she saw his fangs, four of them, huge and sharp. Fear spiked through her, but she had no words as he turned her so she faced the wall, her hands reaching out to hold herself up. He spread her legs and he drove himself inside.

They froze, as her body swallowed him. Casey had had sex plenty of times, with many different men. She enjoyed sex, enjoyed taking over, pushing them down and being in control. But with Connor pulsing inside her, his fangs bared as he gritted his teeth, she felt an animalistic desire to be taken, mounted, fucked.

She pressed herself back, against him, and was rewarded with a low growl.

Connor lifted her around the waist, still inside her, and dropped her on all fours on the bed. She arched her back, spreading for him.

Frankie, the disgusting man that he was, had mirrors around the room, and Casey lifted her head to see herself reflected in one, Connor behind her. He caught her eye in the mirror.

And then he moved. As promised, he was fast, and rough, gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises. He pushed deep inside, and she moaned. Before the sound could get farther than her throat, Connor bent over her and slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Shh,” he said in her ear, his voice quiet and shaking. “Don’t make a sound.”

She watched in the mirror as his hips smacked against her ass, he pulled her head back against his shoulder, and his mouth opened, his fangs grazing her neck and shoulder.

It shouldn’t be like this, she thought; he terrified her. He wasn’t human. Yet, she felt her response building as he quickened his pace, slamming harder into her, bringing tears to her eyes from the exquisite pain of it.

She had been very, very wrong about rough sex. Or maybe, it was the man behind her?

It happened in a small explosion. Connor bite into her shoulder, drawing blood, and she fell apart. Her orgasm ripped through her. She bit his hand, hearing him growl in response, the sound so inhuman, and yet so sexual. She felt him tense as she came down from her climax, his own ripping through him, spilling inside her.

Shit. They hadn’t used a condom.

He pulled out and stepped away. Casey sat, squeezing her legs together, feeling the heat of him inside her. She should go take a bath, try to get as much out as she could.

Instead, she touched her shoulder, and her fingers came away bloody. She stared at him in horror.

“I didn’t bite deep enough.” His voice was ragged, spent. He buttoned himself back into his jeans and ran a hand through his hair. “You do that with Frankie, you might just convince him.”

She’d forgotten that she was supposed to give herself up to Frankie Sway. Maybe it had been easy to do it with Connor, for reasons she wasn’t prepared to think about, but there was no way she was going to be able to do that Frankie, the murdering bastard.

But, she nodded, not meeting Connor’s intense eyes.

He returned the nod and left. Leaving her alone, bloodied, stinking of sex, and sick with what she had just done.

Before Frankie could come in and start something with her, she ran to the bathroom, started the shower, tore off her shirt and boots, and climbed in, letting the hot water scald her skin.

Chapter Nineteen

Connor took a two-minute shower in the main bathroom, getting the smell of sex off of him. He didn’t need to alert Frankie to anything suspicious before he figured out what he was going to do. He toweled off and stared at his reflection in the mirror.

Part of him felt sick. Part of him felt nothing. Part of him felt something he didn’t understand.

He had sealed Casey’s fate when he’d had sex with her, bitten her. She wouldn’t turn, he hadn’t lied about that, but if the alphas, or anyone from his pack got near her, they would know, they would sense it. She could shower for days, and they would still be able to smell and feel that he had bitten her, spilled himself inside her.

She knew about him, about his pack, and they wouldn’t let that go. He would do it himself and make it quick. Hell, he could fuck her again and kill her mid-orgasm. She could die happy. The thought of killing her while he was still inside her made his stomach turn.

His pack didn’t believe in turning humans into shifters. Those who were bitten, rather than born, were volatile, violent, and unpredictable. They had no loyalty to anyone, not even their maker. He wouldn’t be allowed to turn her, not that he’d want to. That was a fate worse than the death he was going to have to deliver soon.

He would kill her before he took out Frankie and his crew. At least she would be spared from having to witness that carnage.

There was a part of him that wondered what it was she was doing here. He didn’t believe it was for the money anymore. Maybe he would find out before he killed her, just so he would know, satisfy his curiosity.

With what felt like a stone in his heart, Connor dressed and headed outside, breathing deep the fresh, night air. The air in the Berkshires felt good. It made him sad to think of what he had to do here.

Perhaps he could let her go. Scare her into running far, maybe to another country. He didn’t know for sure, but he thought the alphas might leave her alone if she was far away.

Then again, they might hunt her down and kill her. Who would they send if he couldn’t do it himself? One of his brothers? Emmett ? He hoped it wasn’t his cousin Emmett . That kid had a special place in his heart filled with hate for all humans. He would make it hurt.