Talon/Xavier (Bayou Heat) (18 page)

“Gotta go, Cap,” he muttered to the male. “I’ll be in touch.”

Xavier didn’t even wait for the male to reply, just hit the off button and stood. “You should’ve stayed in bed.”

“Why? Were you planning on coming back?”

“Hell, yes.”

As her mouth curved into a wicked grin, her gaze drifted down his body, lingering on the thick erection pressing against his lower abdomen. “Too bad we have to go. Get to work.”

The word
we
wasn’t lost on Xavier, and he shook his head. “Not happening, Beautiful.”

She leaned against the door, the action causing the edges of her tank to lift, giving him an unobstructed view of her glorious pussy.

His mouth watered. God, he wanted to taste her again. Spread her thighs and send his tongue up inside her slick, hot channel until she screamed.

But that spot in hell beside Shakpi was growing closer by the second.

“I’m one of the best trackers in the Wildlands, Xavier,” she said, her eyes searching his now.

“I’m going outside of the Wildlands, Amalie,” he countered.

Her kitty cat grin widened. “Perfect. We could use a break.”

“From the Pantera or from each other?”

“I’ll leave that answer to you.” She crossed her arms, grabbed the edges of her tank and pulled it over her head. Naked, her nipples hardening, her eyes still pinned to him, she tossed the white strip of fabric at him. “You could always leave me here. Alone.” She laughed softly. “Or not.”

Come leaked from the head of his dick, and a growl escaped his throat. “You play dirty.”

“Oh, Xavier,” she purred, “you have no idea.”

She would be the death of him. Or maybe the life. He wasn’t sure which option worried him more. But either way, it wasn’t going to get examined in that moment. He was too worked up, and she was too tempting.

“Fine,” he ground out. “Put on some goddamn clothes before I fuck you against that door.”

“Promises, promises,” she called as she turned around and strode back into her room.

* * *

Her arms wrapped around Xavier’s waist, she reveled in the feel of his back against her chest and the motorcycle’s engine between her legs. It wasn’t as hot as riding on his puma, but it was pretty damn close.

Getting dressed and leaving the house, and the Wildlands, had taken supreme effort on both of their parts. But the reminder of why they needed to go on this mission, search out any clues to Chayton’s whereabouts—find the human male before their enemies did—had sobered their desire.

The heat of the day grew thicker as they drew closer to Lafayette. Insects hit the plastic visors of their helmets, and Mal wished she’d worn something lighter than a black leather jacket over her blue tank. Xavier’s friend had tracked the IP address to two possible locations. A coffee shop in Lafayette and a cabin in the swamps. They’d gone to the coffee shop first. The owner had been friendly enough, but hadn’t given them anything major to go on. Seemed folks with laptops were in and out of the shop all day long. The human male explained that he recognized some of them, didn’t know others, but he rarely got intimate enough with anyone to glean personal information.

Now, as the day started to wane into late afternoon, they were headed for the cabin.

“Wrap your arms tighter around me, Amalie,” Xavier called back to her as he took a curve with practiced skill.

“I’m not going to fall off,” she shouted.

“Who said anything about you falling off?” He took one hand off the bars and used it to press her arms closer. “I just like the feel of you.”

She grinned and rubbed her chin against his shoulder. Fantasy or reality. For three days or one. It just didn’t matter. She’d never felt so happy. “I won’t forget you said that,” she called to him.

He growled back, “Good.”

After another stretch of curves, one hill and a bumpy-ass bridge, Xavier finally slowed and pulled onto a road marked, ‘
Swamp Estates. Private Property
.’ As they kicked up crazy amounts of dust on the dirt pathway, Amalie couldn’t help laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Xavier asked as they entered a small parking lot and slid into one of many empty spots.

“
Estates
is really pushing things,” she said as he killed the engine and got off the bike. “
Rustic cabins
is way more like it.”

Xavier glanced over his shoulder at the ten or so cabins dotting the swamp’s lip in the distance. “Never underestimate the subliminal powers of marketing, Beautiful.” He turned back to face her, his eyes flashing. “Sometimes to accept what we’re given in this life, to be content with it, we have to amplify or change its value.”

Good god, was it possible that she loved this male even more for his incredible brain than his knee-weakening body? She studied him. And tried to pretend she hadn’t just used the word ‘love’ in her mental query regarding how she felt about him.

“Have you ever done that?” she asked. “Changed the value of something you had to accept?”

“Sure.”

Her heart stuttered. “When?”

He didn’t answer right away, seemed to be mulling something over in his head. Then he glanced past her to the road they’d just traveled, and scrubbed a hand over his face. “When my father died.”

It was something she’d known about, had heard about, but they hadn’t been close enough to talk about back then. She hoped they were now. Or getting there. She fought the urge to reach for his hand. She didn’t want to do anything to stop him from opening up to her, being vulnerable. “How did you amplify that? Or change its value?”

With a tight exhale, his gaze slid back to meet hers. “I got to have two families.”

It took her all of five seconds to glean his meaning, but it made her gut ache. His family was Aristide, maybe even her. And he’d crossed a line he hadn’t wanted to cross. “I understand.”

“Do you?” he asked, his eyes now piercing in the light of the late afternoon sun. “Because I really need you to.”

Before Mal could answer, the rumbling sounds of a car coming up the dirt path rent the air. It was coming fast toward them, into the parking lot, kicking up a shitload of dust. Her Hunter instincts kicking into high gear, Mal grabbed Xavier’s hand, and took off for the shelter of the trees down near the swamp.

Silently, they watched the car slide into a parking space and stop with a sputter and a groan. When the door opened and a woman got out, Mal turned to Xavier and whispered, “She look familiar? From any of the shop pictures on the drive?”

He shook his head.

She pressed him. “You sure? There had to have been a ton of film.”

He turned and gave her a lopsided grin. “I have a photographic memory, Beautiful.”

Her heart freaking swooned, and she uttered dryly, “Of course you do.”

He laughed softly. “It’s a damn inconvenience. Every inch of your body…” He tapped his temple. “All up here and never going away.”

“Good.” It was her turn to grin now.

He motioned for her to follow. “Come.”

“You have the cabin number, right?”

“I think so,” he said, following the water, keeping to the shadows, the shade. “If I can remember it.”

She gave him a playful push, laughing softly. At which he growled, and yanked her to his side. But as they drew closer to the cabins, they quieted, moving swiftly, listening, eyes wary as they passed the rustic dwellings, their screened porches overlooking the cypress swamp, now tinted peach in the light of the late-afternoon sun.

“Are we breaking and entering?” she asked, wiping sweat from her brow. “Or just lying in wait to grab the guy?”

He turned his gaze on her. “That’s the Hunters way, isn’t it, Amalie? No talk, all action.”

“Not this Hunter,” she said in a hushed voice as they approached the rear of the cabin. “I like talk. Lots of it. In my ear is good. Against my mouth even better.”

With a soft snarl, he whirled around and caught her up in his arms. His ice blue eyes narrowed with heat. “Don’t make me regret bringing you.”

“Oh, you won’t.” With a crooked smile, she pulled away from him. “I have the nose after all.”

“The nose, the eyes, the mouth, the ass…”

She glanced back and winked at him, then darted away, quick and quiet, to the side door of the cabin. She was there only a few seconds, when Xavier came up behind her, whispered in her ear, “Well?”

She shivered. In the ninety-plus degree weather, she actually shivered. “No one’s in there.”

“No body heat.”

She glanced over her shoulder and grinned. “No body heat and no heartbeat. Should we wait inside?”

He shook his head. “Maybe in another cabin close by. Maybe in the trees.”

She looked up at the massive cypress overhead. “If only I could access my puma,” she whispered. “I hate that we can’t shift outside the Wildlands. It’s so inconvenient.” Then her eyes slid down to meet his and she added, “And that pussy of mine really knows how to dig in her nails and climb.”

Her suggestive tone and words had Xavier’s nostrils flaring, and he took her hand and led her away from the cabin and back toward the swamp. “I think we’ll stay out of the trees for today,” he grumbled. “Come, Female.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Liar!”

“Excuse me?” Xavier didn’t spare her a glance, though he wanted to. Shit, he always wanted to. After all, she looked hot. Jeans, tank, smooth, tanned skin with a light sheen of sweat. His tongue twitched inside his mouth at the image, at the yearning to taste her salty skin. But he had to set his position, make sure he could see if and when someone returned to that cabin.

“You said no trees, and look at this,” she said behind him.

Crouched inside the shelter of a massive fallen cypress, Xavier shrugged. “No climbing was needed.” He narrowed his eyes at the screened porch a couple hundred yards away. “We’re protected here. We can see everything, and no one can see us.”

“We could be protected inside one of those cabins bracketing our camera owner.”

Xavier glanced over his shoulder. Damn, she looked beautiful. Edible. “You looking for some comfort on this mission, Hunter?” he asked.

Her lips twitched. “No,” she returned haughtily, the leaves of the cypress overhead traveling back and forth across her back. “I’m just saying there are options…”

“Like carpet and walls and indoor plumbing?”

She shook her head. “You’re such a guy.”

“Damn right,” he said, then growled softly. “Wait, what does that mean?”

She laughed. “With what you have between your legs, you don’t need indoor plumbing. Us females…well, let’s just say it’s an awkward act without it. Out of our fur, at any rate. ”

He laughed with her. “I can ask if there are any vacancies here. Hell, maybe I’ll just kick out some nice couple celebrating their mating night if it would please you.”

She sobered suddenly, and her expression went soft, sensual. Even her tone was far more tantalizing than teasing. “You want to please me?”

Christ, she made him insane. His hands curled into fists, and a low, husky growl exited his throat. “Don’t act so surprised, Hunter. I may be a closed book when it comes to sharing feelings and all that sappy bullshit, but don’t pretend you don’t know how affected I am by you. How my body twitches and hardens and sweats every fucking moment you’re around. Pleasing you?” He laughed darkly. “It’s on my mind constantly.”

Her breathing quickened, making her cheeks flush and her spectacular chest rise and fall.

“Well, you’re not the only one,” she said, her eyes pinned to his.

“What do you mean?”

A slow, sexy grin played about her lips. “Pleasing me is on my mind constantly, too.”

“You!” With a fierce growl, Xavier forgot everything—where he was, why he was there—and leapt on top of her, forcing her to her back on the soft moss. Snarling down at her, he rasped, “You…Dammit…You…”

She gazed up at him, breathing so hard, she could hardly get the word, “What?” out of her mouth.

“You make me crazy,” he growled.

She raked her hands up his chest. “Good.”

“You make me hungry,” he continued, his eyes narrowed slits as he ground his hips, his hard cock, against her sex.

“Finally,” she uttered, grinning, her hands moving down, over his stomach toward his hips.

He groaned, knowing where she was headed. “You make me…God, Amalie…”

“What, Xavier? Tell me. Please, tell me.”

“You make me so fucking happy.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could take them back. Not that he wanted to. They were true. He’d never felt anything close to this with anyone. He wanted her. Not just a night—or three—of hot, mindless fucking. No. He
wanted
her.

Amalie’s hands froze near his hipbones and her eyes searched his. Within their incredible green depths, he saw her heart. Saw how she felt about him. How she’d always felt about him. And if he wasn’t mistaken, he saw his own heart reflected there, too.

Suddenly, her face broke with a grin, and she whispered, “By the way, I don’t think anyone would be having their mating night here.”

“Why not?” he asked, his hands cupping her face. Her soft, beautiful face.