First Beast (17 page)

He'd forced her into marriage, into mating with him. Had barely given her the opportunity to breathe.

“What's wrong?”

Her soft query broke through his reverie and he looked at her. “Not a thing.”

“You stopped kissing me,” she said with a smile. “And I was enjoying it.”

“That's good to know.” He tugged up her tee. “Why don't we ditch some of these clothes?”

“Excellent idea.” Before he knew what was happening, she grabbed the edges of his polo shirt and yanked it over his head. “I love your chest.”

He pulled off her T-shirt, unclipped her bra. “As it happens, I love yours too.”

Smothering her quick laugh with a kiss, he was rewarded by her deep moan when he cupped her naked breast and slid his thumb across her nipple.

He deepened the kiss but she broke away, scrambling up to straddle him. He lay back, pleased beyond measure when she ran her hands down his chest, when she unhooked the button of his jeans. His stomach muscles jumped at the brush of her fingers against his abdominals.

Slowly, her eyes on his, she lowered his zipper. She took her own sweet time and his cock jumped in eager anticipation. She wrapped her fingers around his waistband, and he hiked up his hips, hoping to hurry her along. She drew his jeans down his legs, her breasts jiggling as she moved. His cock throbbed, and he thanked all the gods when she made short work of removing his boxer shorts.

He tried to reverse their positions, wanting her naked too, but she pushed him back down. “You get to do just about anything you want to me. Now it's my turn.”

The scrape of her nails over his pectorals made him jerk, and he pushed his cock, now fully erect, against her jean-clad pussy. “Go for it, sweetheart.”

He wanted to feel his cock pressing against her wet slit, but it seemed she had other ideas for him. So he concentrated on his breathing—inhale, exhale; inhale, exhale—while her fingertips trailed sensuously across his abdomen, close to where his hard length positively throbbed for her attention.

“Tell me what you want,” she said silkily, and licked her lips. “Tell me exactly what you'd like me to do.”

“Take me in your mouth.” His voice grated, his throat parched. “Suck me off.”

Her grin was full of feminine power. “I like a man who knows what he wants.”

She back-crawled down his body, pressed her hands to his legs and spread them. Settling between, she ran her fingers up and down his inner thighs. Hoping to God he didn't hyperventilate before she reached the prize, he folded his arms behind his head and prepared to be driven insane.

She leaned over him, her hands either side of his hips and her breasts brushing the sides of his cock. He inhaled sharply, his head leaving the pillow to watch her. Over and over she slid those plump orbs along his length, her hair tickling his stomach. When he groaned, she sat back on her heels and let her fingers dance close to his cock, barely brushing his length.

Sweat formed on his forehead, and he clenched his teeth together. Shit. This was fucking torture.

No sooner had the thought invaded his senses than she touched her forefinger to the tip of his cock. Moisture formed there, and she brought her finger to her lips and, watching him, sucked slowly as if she were devouring the tastiest treat. His cock pulsed to the point of pain.

“You need to put me out of my misery, sweetheart,” he ground out. “Or I won't be responsible for the consequences.”

“You're not the most patient of men.” She continued to lick and suck on her finger. “I knew that about you almost from the start.”

“Something else you should know. What goes around comes around.”

She smiled and dropped her hand to his thigh. “Is that a threat?”

“Damn right it is.”

She wrapped a hand around his cock and he inhaled sharply.

“When I get between your legs, you'll find out just how much of a threat. I'll make you wait so long, you'll be screaming for my dick.”

When she lightly squeezed said dick, he brought his hands down to fist them in the sheet. She set up a treacherous rhythm. Squeeze, release. Squeeze, release. Until he was panting, sweat breaking out across his chest.

With her eyes on his, she lowered her head and flicked her tongue across the head of his cock. She pumped him harder now, her slender fingers tight around his girth. Slowly, so damn slowly, she took him into her mouth.

He squeezed his eyes shut, held onto the sheet for dear life as she worked him. He felt the pull in his balls, the tightness in his groin. He wanted her to take him, all of him. Wanted to spill his seed into her mouth. But not now. His need to be inside her, to fill her slick, hot pussy with his throbbing length was overwhelming.

On the edge, he reached down and pulled her away from him. He flipped her over onto her back, snapped the hook of her jeans and with the zip only half open, dragged them down her legs. Her panties followed. In his frenzy to get to her, he heard the rip of silk.

He yanked her legs apart, and drove inside her.

His chest heaved, his own desperate breaths mingling with hers. She reached her arms around him and clung.

The slick heat of her drove him harder, her feminine moans the most potent of aphrodisiacs. She opened her legs wider, allowing him to sink deeper still, while her hips met each thrust.

He felt the heady pull of orgasm, but gritted his teeth, determined that she would reach hers before he allowed himself release.

About to tell her to open her eyes, his heart tripped when he found himself lost in her stunning crystal blue gaze. He reached down, brushed his thumb over her clitoris. He was mad for her, drowning in the depths of everything she was.

She arched her neck, her chin thrust into the air, but still she kept her eyes on his.

Unable to hold back against the desperate pull of her, he thrust one last time and climaxed. She gave a strangled cry, squeezing her eyes shut at the moment she joined him.

For long moments they lay there, labored breaths scoring the otherwise silent room. He wanted to be pissed that at the moment she came she'd closed her eyes, but he was too damn satiated to worry unduly. They had turned a corner. A big one. Damned if he was going to ruin things by pressing a point.

She gave a soft moan. “What happened to your threat?”

“Huh?”

“You said you'd keep me waiting so long I'd be screaming for release. You pounded into me before you'd hardly got my underwear off. By the way, you owe me a new pair of panties.”

“I'll take care of it.” He pulled out slowly, and shifted to lie alongside her. “And there's no timeline on the threat part.”

“Well, there is tonight.” She scrambled out of bed.

“Where do you think you're going?”

“I've got a class.” She grabbed her tattered underwear and headed for the bathroom. “And now I'm going to be late.”

He came up onto his elbows. “You have to be kidding me.”

At the door, she glanced back over her shoulder. “No joke. Oh, and don't wait up. I'm staying the night at Naomi's. Girls' night in.” She grinned. “And you need to go and check on those vegetables.”

With a wink she disappeared into the bathroom, leaving him openmouthed and fighting the urge to go in there and drag her back into bed. But she wouldn't appreciate his caveman tactics, and no way was he about to jeopardize what they'd been slowly building. So he shrugged into his jeans, and went to check the damn vegetables.

Ten minutes later, having watched her drive away, he grabbed his key ring off the hall stand. He headed along the hallway and toward the hatch in the ceiling. Reaching up, he pressed the latch and the door to the loft sprang open. He hoisted himself up into the space and crawled across the rafters toward the small locked box he'd hidden behind some old paintings.

Having retrieved the slim bundle of papers, he slipped them in his pocket. He climbed back out and closed the hatch. On his way back to the kitchen, he tapped his pocket, and the papers he'd hoped never to have to use as insurance.

He had a feeling he'd be needing them soon enough.

Chapter Thirteen

Talia stared at the rival newspaper on her desk and every cell in her body froze. She dropped her bag onto her chair and snatched up the copy. With trembling hands, she read the headline again, and again. She skimmed her gaze down the rest of the article, hoping against hope that this was all a bad dream.

She glanced around the office, thankful she'd been the first in that morning and nobody was around to witness her alarm. Removing her bag, she dropped into her chair and read the article again.

Nausea swam in her stomach. Who on earth had done this? Why?

Had anything she said or done prompted the article? Had she inadvertently leaked some morsel to a colleague over a post-work drink one night? Not that she ever shared information with a rival, but still.

She came up blank.

All she knew for sure was that she had to get home. If she hurried, she might make it before Caleb left for the day. Usually he was out of the house before her, and Joshua left soon after. Since she'd stayed the night at Naomi's, she hadn't a clue what their plans had been for the day.

By the time she arrived at the house, they'd both left. She tried their cell phones. First, she left Caleb a message, asking him to call her immediately. Then she left the same message for Joshua.

Her nausea intensified with the smell of stale filter coffee permeating the air. When would one of them remember to empty the damn coffee pot before they left the house? Hadn't she drummed it enough into their thick heads?

Oh hell. Why on earth was she worrying about stale coffee when she had a much bigger problem on her hands?

The cell in her hand vibrated and she almost dropped it. At the sight of Josh's number on the readout, she swallowed back the lump in her throat.

“Did you see Caleb this morning?” she asked without any preamble.

“Yeah. He was his usual charming self.”

She squeezed her eyes closed. It was almost certain he wouldn't have seen the paper, seeing as he rarely concerned himself with anything other than the financials, but that didn't mean someone wouldn't have called him about it.

“Did anyone call him first thing?”

“Not that I'm aware. What's this about?”

“I need to see him.” She waited a beat, and while it wasn't her priority at that moment, she wanted to make it clear that she fully intended to interrogate Joshua about his lies at the earliest opportunity. “I also want to see you. You've got some explaining to do.”

“I've got a lot on today.”

“I'm heading to Caleb's office. If you know what's good for you, you'll meet me there.”

She hung up before Joshua could respond, and immediately tried Caleb again. It went straight to voicemail.

Gathering up her things, she headed out to her car. Seconds later, she was on her way to the Office of the Council. She parked in a visitor's space in the lot behind the building, noting that Caleb's reserved spot remained empty. Undeterred, she hurried into the building and after a brief chat with the receptionist, went straight to Caleb's office. She wasn't surprised to find it empty, but having been told by the receptionist that he had an early meeting across town, she took the opportunity to spread the newspaper out on his desk. She shrugged out of her jacket and sat. Using one of Caleb's pens, she began to scribble down salient points in the article that could point to whoever had leaked the story. The name of the reporter was unfamiliar to her, but she planned to pay him a visit once she'd spoken to Caleb.

While she continued highlighting sections of the article, Joshua came in. She stood. “Have you seen the
Star
this morning?”

Joshua shrugged. “Why would I? You know yours is the only paper I read.”

She snatched up the publication and thrust it at him. Her heart in her mouth, she waited while he read it, his expression blank.

When he'd finished he frowned. “Who did this?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea. But I plan to find out.”

“Does Cal know?”

“I'm not sure. Although I'd be surprised if someone hasn't told him about it by now. I've left messages for him to call me.”

Joshua continued to look down at the paper. “This is exactly what we've always feared. Do you know this reporter? Have you spoken to him?”

His question fed into her lingering fear that somehow she had inadvertently made this happen. “No, I don't know him. I swear I don't know how this happened.”

He moved toward her, depositing the paper on the table. He wrapped his fingers around her arms. “Hey. I'm not insinuating this is your fault. No way.” He dropped a kiss on her trembling lips. “I trust you, babe. I know you'd never do anything to put Caleb or our pack in jeopardy.”

Would Caleb feel the same? Hadn't he always been ready to tell her how much he didn't trust her? Already she mourned the destruction of the bridge they had been building, of the closeness they had begun to share.

She moved out of Joshua's arms. “Caleb's at a meeting. He's not due back for a while, so I'm going over there. To the
Star
's offices. I'm going to demand this Dan Treat tells me his source.”

“I'll come with you.”

“No. I'd best do this on my own. Your involvement might make things worse. If I go alone, it'll look as if I'm simply trying to muscle in on the storyline. I've got more chance of getting something from them alone.”

“Okay.” Joshua didn't look convinced. “If that's what you want. Call me when you get there. Let me know if you need anything.”

She considered it only briefly, but concern about the article hadn't diminished her anger toward Joshua and her need to know why he'd spread such inexplicable lies about his mother.

“There is something I need,” she said, slipping on her jacket. She walked to the door and turned to look at him. “I visited your mother yesterday.”

She waited, expecting him to bluster and complain that he'd warned her not to do that, but when he said nothing, she tucked the paper under her arm and narrowed her eyes.

“You'd better have a good explanation for the story you spun me about your mother being involved in Caleb's kidnapping. And don't even think about lying to me again. What I need is the truth, Joshua. And when I get home tonight, you'd better be prepared to give it to me.”

With anger and fear vying for supremacy, Talia left the Council Offices and prepared to do battle.

“Come on. You know better than that.” Dan Treat swung back in his chair, swiveling in a way that signaled he held all the cards. “There's no way on God's earth I'm going to reveal my source. Or give up trying to get McLeod to give me an exclusive.”

Talia struggled to keep her professional persona in force, but she was determined to do so, especially when there was so much at stake. “Do you know how long I've been trying to get him to tell me his story?” Talia lied. “If he won't talk to me, what makes you think he'll talk to you? From what I can gather, things were pretty rough over there and all he wants to do is forget. You'd give any other soldier that consideration. Why not him?”

“Because it doesn't smack to me of a normal hostage/kidnap story. What the hell was he doing there in the first place? There's more to it. I'm thinking our local hero was working as some kind of mercenary.”

Talia glanced down at the copy sitting on Treat's desk, the headline glaring out at her, mocking her, making her already trembling stomach revolve uncomfortably.

DECORATED LOCAL WAR HERO INVOLVED IN MYSTERIOUS HOSTAGE SITUATION IN SOUTH AMERICAN JUNGLE

The article went on to state how Caleb had been gone for over a year and yet nobody knew who had taken him, or why. It went on to say that sources confirmed Caleb had been mysteriously tightlipped about the whole thing, which, as Talia knew, served to fuel people's curiosity and gave weight to the whole
mercenary
question.

“And how about you?” Treat went on as Talia stared at the copy and considered her options. “Want to earn yourself a little extra by giving me the dirty on your brother-in-law?”

Talia's disgust at Treat's insinuation that she would be willing to betray Caleb was only marginally outweighed by the reality of the situation. Had Treat known the full extent of her relationship with Caleb, he would have a much meatier story than he could ever imagine. Add to that the fact that the two men in her life were part of a large pack of shapeshifters and she imagined the man would have a coronary with the shock, and pleasure, at the knowledge.

“Why would I do that?” she said calmly, hoping to come over as a hardnosed reporter. “If I'd thought there was even a sniff of a story there, don't you think I'd have grabbed the headline for myself?”

Treat swiveled some more, pursing his lips. “Maybe. Word is you're ambitious, but blood's thicker than water. Even blood by marriage.”

And by heart
. Not that she'd allow Treat to even suspect that. It was best she continue to let him believe she was that uncompromising journalist with an eye, first and foremost, on the story. If he thought for one moment she was interested in protecting Caleb, she would lose her credibility. He didn't need to know that she would never, ever betray her mate, or her pack.

And they were hers. She was a part of them now, as they were a part of her.

Her pack. Her mate. Caleb.

The realization rocked through her, warming her heart, her soul. But she drew her thoughts and feelings back in and concentrated on the problem of keeping them all safe. “I don't let emotion rule when there's a story to be told,” Talia said, over the thumping of her heart. “It's twice as hard to be taken seriously in this business if you're a woman. I learned a long time ago that a woman needs to grow balls if she wants the prize. Don't underestimate me, Treat. I'd sell out my nearest and dearest for my career.”

“Ah yes. I remember those revelations about your colleague on the
Mercury
. His little monetary discrepancies with a certain politician?”

It didn't come as a surprise that Treat knew about that. He would have done his homework on Caleb, which meant he would have looked into her past too.

“I gave him numerous opportunities to put things right. When he all but laughed in my face I had no option but to go to my editor.”

The episode still haunted her. She'd thought it through so many ways, then and now, yet whatever she did it always came back to those young lives that had been changed forever because of her lack of a speedier response to what was happening. Funding directed toward a local disabled children's home had found its way into a local politician's pocket, and having discovered it, her colleague on the
Mercury
had turned a blind eye in return for a cash payout.

“Ruthless and beautiful,” Treat observed, continuing to swivel in his chair. “That's a pretty volatile combination. Still, ratting on a colleague got you noticed. Remind me not to cross you.”

“We're not talking about me. All I wanted to ask you is for some professional courtesy. There's no story to pursue. Caleb McLeod has served his country and hounding a decorated war hero is not going to help your cause or that of your paper. If you decide to persist, I'll have no option but to challenge you and the source of your so-called information at every turn. You won't come out of it well and those broadsheets won't look too kindly on a reporter who pursues bad leads.”

She paused, letting her words sink in. Almost all local reporters had an eye on the nationals, and by the steely look in Treat's eye, Talia knew her hunch had been right, and he was one of them.

“If I keep refuting what you write and make a mockery of what you report,” she went on conversationally, “it'll make you lose any credibility you may have been building for yourself. Believe me, I can do it.”

“I've got no doubt of that.” Treat sucked in a breath and nudged the copy on his desk. “Look, how about we make a deal? You give me the lowdown on your brother-in-law, a human interest kind of thing, and the whole thing drops.”

Talia's first instinct was to tell him to go to hell, but she wondered if this was the best way to deal with the problem. It would keep Caleb out of the line of fire. He wouldn't have to talk to anyone about his ordeal, and the whole thing would blow over. All she had to do was feed Treat an insipid version of what he wanted to hear. A
hero in the wrong place, wrong time
kind of deal. Perhaps that Caleb had been on a trekking holiday in South America and things had gone horribly wrong for him when he'd stumbled into the path of rebels, et cetera, et cetera.

“Let me give it some thought.” Talia stood, intent on contacting Caleb first and getting his take on her doing what Treat had asked. “There'd need to be some reciprocity involved, such as letting me run the piece too.”

That way, it really would put an end to further speculation, especially in the local area.

“Maybe. After my paper has run the story, of course.”

“We can negotiate that part.” Talia hoisted her bag over her shoulder. “I'll be in touch.”

In his office, Caleb paced the floor. He'd asked that the rest of his morning meetings be postponed while he tried to sort the fucking mess that had scrambled his brain and sent ice through his veins.

He'd looked at it from all angles. Considered every possibility. He hadn't gotten to this stage of his life without making enemies, but when he factored in the people who knew the truth about South America, one name stood out. Joshua. He hated Caleb enough to pull a stunt like this. The only question mark was that his brother would never put the pack at risk.

Which led him back to the only other possibility. Talia. Pain tore at his chest, the thought of her duplicity tunneling through to his core and providing a sharp reminder that this was exactly what he'd feared all along. Her betrayal.