The Mane Event (30 page)

B
rendon felt amazing. Better than amazing. He’d left his blinds open and he could see the dark skyline of his city.

Still dark out and he had no idea why he would be up this early—but he did know that he felt amazing.

Hair brushed the inside of his thigh, and he glanced down his body.

No wonder he felt so damn amazing. No wonder he was up so early.

Ronnie deep throated him again, her hand massaging his balls while she did.

“Christ, Ronnie,” he rasped when she swirled her tongue around the tip of his cock, then took him deep again.

She sucked hard and released him. “Oh, don’t mind me none.”

Brendon laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nah. Go back to sleep.” She tore open another condom and put it on him. “I just need to borrow part of you for a time, is all.”

He would have laughed if she didn’t feel so goddamn good sinking onto his hard cock.

Her head fell back, and Ronnie let out a long, luxurious moan. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I need.” She started moving. Slow and easy, a smile of pure joy on that gorgeous face.

She looked into his eyes while she rode him. “You don’t mind, do you? If I take dirty, disgusting advantage of your sleeping body?”

“Anytime, sexy. Any goddamn time you want to.”

“You may regret that. I can be real demanding.” She leaned over him, her hands gripping his shoulders. Her rhythm never changed and her pussy clutched him on every rocking thrust.

“So you’re a glutton. Always demanding more?”

“As much as I can get, hoss. I might be too much for you. More than you can handle.”

He gripped her hips hard enough to bruise. “No, sexy. You’re just right.” Brendon used his hands to speed up her rhythm. Make her rock into him harder, faster.

Their groans grew louder, more desperate. Their bodies slick with sweat.

“Christ, Ronnie. You’re amazing.”

She laughed. “I bet you say that to all the girls who wake you up with a blow job.”

Brendon slapped her ass, eliciting a yelp as her pussy clenched him hard. “I’m saying that to
you
.”

“All right, hoss. All right. No need to get cranky.”

He rubbed her where he’d slapped her ass. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

She leaned down, licked his nipples, and Brendon barely stopped himself from coming.

“Liked what?” She very gently gripped one nipple between her teeth, then tickled it with her tongue.

Brendon closed his eyes and briefly thought about the Phillies baseball team season. He’d have to remember to get tickets this year. Maybe he could convince Ronnie to go along with him for a couple of games.

“Like what?” she asked again, her hands running along his shoulders, her hips and pussy rocking him into oblivion.

“When I slapped your ass. You liked it.”

“Do you really think I’d answer that question?”

He arched into her. “You just did, sexy. You just did.”

Ronnie gave a frustrated whimper.

Brendon opened his eyes to see Ronnie shake her head, a frustrated frown on her face.

“You need help going over, baby?”

She nodded, whimpered again. “I’m so close.”

He pulled one hand away from her hips and placed his thumb against her mouth. “Suck on this like you sucked on my cock.”

Without hesitation, she took his thumb into her mouth and sucked hard, her tongue swirling around a bit before going back to sucking.

I can’t believe I slept through most of that blow job.

Dragging his finger from her mouth, Brendon brought it down the middle of her body until he hovered over her clit. He stared up into her face, wanting to watch Ronnie while he did this. While he gave her this.

He touched her clit with the pad of his thumb and made small circles.

“Oh God, yeah,” she panted. “Oh yeah.”

Brendon increased the pressure a bit and Ronnie exploded, her orgasm ripping through her, leaving her shaking and gasping. And smiling. She always smiled when she came. He kept up the pressure and the movement until she caught his hand with her own.

“Stop. Stop.” Ronnie laughed and leaned back, shaking out her shoulder-length hair. “Whew!
That
was exactly what I needed, darlin’.”

Taking Brendon’s hands and placing them on her breasts, she said, “Now I need to know what you need.”

He grinned, loving that she cared enough to ask. “For you to finish that blow job.”

“Oh baby. That I can so do.”

Ronnie woke up when the morning sun hit her full in the face. She took a moment to enjoy the feel of Shaw’s back pushed up against her own. Took a moment to enjoy the scent of a male surrounding her. Shaw’s scent. But she only gave herself that one moment. Now it was time to go. Like she did nearly every morning she woke up in a man’s bed. And Shaw would be no different. No different from the other men in her life that she wrung pleasure from and then left before they ever woke up. Before they ever had a chance to ask her to stay.

Moving with the stealth she’d been born with, Ronnie slipped out of Shaw’s bed and started toward the door. Quickly, though, she realized she had to pee like a race horse. Taking a detour, she went to Shaw’s adjoining bathroom, pausing for a moment in the doorway. Good Lord, the man had a huge bathroom.

Huge bathroom, huge apartment, huge cock.

She used the toilet, washed her hands and face, brushed her teeth using her finger.

“You’re procrastinating, girl,” she said to herself in the mirror. “Just get your clothes and go.”

Ronnie slipped back into the bedroom, picked up her clothes and boots, and headed to the door. She stopped right in front of it, staring at it.

All she had to do was put her hand on the knob and open the door. She glanced back at Shaw. Still asleep, he wouldn’t know she’d left for hours. She looked back at the door.

Open the door, Ronnie Lee. Open the door and leave.

But the thought of going back to her boring hotel bed held absolutely no appeal. Usually, she couldn’t get out of the room—and away from the male she’d just had sex with—fast enough.

For the first time ever, she didn’t feel that overwhelming desire to escape. The realization unsettled her, but she blew it off. Merely the holidays, she told herself. People got lonely around the holidays.

Dropping her clothes into a chair, Ronnie walked back over to the bed. A deep breath, and she slipped back under the covers, resting on her side. It felt nice and right, but she blew that off, too. She was just tired, is all.

Shaw turned over and wrapped his arm around her waist, his face nestled into her hair, his cock snug against her ass. She rested her hand on his arm, smiled, and went back to sleep.

Brendon waited until he knew she was asleep before he let out the breath he’d been holding. True, he would have stopped her before she made it through his front door, but he wanted her to come back on her own. Wanted to see if the pull she felt was as strong as his own.

He didn’t feel smug in the knowledge she came back. More like relieved. He’d fallen hard and fast for this female. This woman. He had no intention of letting her go now, but he wasn’t stupid enough to believe it would be easy to keep her. Ronnie didn’t like anyone having a hold on her. Not a man or her family. Not even her Pack. If she knew Shaw wanted her to stay in his life forever, she would have sprinted out the door like in one of those Bugs Bunny cartoons, leaving a big Ronnie-shaped hole in the wood.

No, he’d have to be crafty. He wouldn’t trick Ronnie. He didn’t want her to stay because she thought he was dying or something. He wanted her to stay because she loved him. Because the wolf in her realized it had found its mate. So he’d have to be crafty to keep her around until she realized it. Until she admitted it not only to him but to herself.

Thankfully, cats were known for being crafty and extremely patient.

Already planning his next move, Brendon pulled her closer and smiled in pure pleasure when she gripped his arm tight—afraid to let him go.

Ronnie stood in front of Shaw’s refrigerator and continued to debate the pros and cons of its contents.

She absolutely detested eggs, so that was out. The man had enough bacon to feed the French Foreign Legion, but then she’d have to cook. She worked really hard to avoid using that stove thing.

She could eat some fresh fruit, but…nah.

“Uh…excuse me?”

Ronnie didn’t bother glancing over her shoulder at Shaw’s brother. She’d heard him at the front door as soon as he slipped the key in the lock and she smelled him as soon as he got off the elevator. And she didn’t feel self-conscious because Shaw’s Philadelphia Flyers hockey shirt reached below her knees, covering her naked ass.

“He’s in the shower,” she answered his unasked question.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No. Just didn’t want you walking around the apartment calling out his name like some stray cub, thinking he’s ignoring you when he’s only in the shower.” She winked at him. “Figured it was best to tell ya up front.”

At her smile, he seemed to relax. She had no idea why he might have been uptight. She’d been nothing but polite to the man while he rolled on the floor trying to kill his own brother.

“Breakfast or lunch?”

“I know the clock says lunch, but I’m just getting up after my own shower. My stomach wants to be fed but I don’t see anything I have the energy or inclination to tussle with.”

“Um…can I make a suggestion?”

For a man whose own brother referred to him as “scumbag” he sure seemed awfully polite.

Stepping back from the fridge but keeping the door open with her butt, Ronnie gestured toward the cold storage. “Be my guest.”

Mitch crouched in front of the open refrigerator and dug around the back. Really, the damn thing was huge. Take out the shelves, you could comfortably fit a family of four in there.

“My brother usually has…ah…there it is.” He glanced at what he held in his hand. “Expiration date’s good, too. Here.” He handed her a medium tub of low-fat vanilla yogurt.

If she hadn’t been having wild sex with his brother all night, she might have kissed him. “Yes!” She grabbed a spoon, then leaped up onto the counter without using her hands. An old She-wolf trick. She crossed her legs at the ankles and opened the fresh yogurt. “How did you know?”

Mitch shrugged and closed the refrigerator door. “I used to date a She-wolf when I was sixteen.” He opened the fridge door again, grabbed a water, and reclosed it. “Went to her house for Thanksgiving dinner. At dessert, they had five kinds of pie, six cakes, and this enormous bowl of plain, low-fat vanilla yogurt.” He leaned at the far end of the counter, forcing her to turn a little to see him but keeping a healthy distance. “By the end of the evening, a few slices here and there of cake and pie were gone, but the yogurt bowl…completely cleaned out. When I asked her, she said wolves love yogurt.”

“Did you mock?”

“No. Then I wouldn’t have gotten laid.”

“This is very true.”

Ronnie ate her yogurt, her feet banging against the counter doors.

“Ya know,” she finally offered as she steadily worked her way through that tub of yogurt, “you seem awful polite for a lowlife.” She shrugged when he stared at her. “You wear that rebel without a clue motorcycle jacket, appear to shave only once or twice a week, got a couple of interesting scars on your neck, but…”

“But what?”

She shrugged. “You bathed this morning. You use conditioner. What nails you do have are clean. And I don’t know many lowlifes who would have dug around in a fridge to get his hated brother’s lay-of-the-moment a yogurt without trying to get some pussy himself, and yet you are halfway across the room. Out of respect.”

He picked at the wrapper on his ridiculously overpriced water bottle and stared at her. Finally, he said, “I don’t hate my brother.”

“I know. Not sure Shaw does, though.”

“And that bothers you—why?”

“It doesn’t. Just passing on the information.”

Mitch smirked and looked so much like his brother when he did. “I think you like him.”

“Not at all. I often have sex with men I can’t stand.”

“I don’t mean that kind of like. I mean, you
like
him.”

Reaching the bottom of the yogurt tub, she joked, “You’re right, Mitchy. And would you pass him a note in study hall for me?”

He snorted. Then he froze, his gold eyes glued to the swinging kitchen door. Ronnie’s eyes narrowed, a female scent hitting her hard.

The door flew open and a tall, beautiful, and clearly feline female strutted in.

She stared right at Mitch. “Here to mooch off Brendon again?”

“I don’t need to mooch. I can just steal from his wallet.”

“And I’m sure you do.” Her nose crinkled. “Why do I keep smelling wet dog?” Gold eyes turned to Ronnie. “Oh. That must be you.”

Mitch straightened but Ronnie held her hand up to stop him. “It’s okay, Mitch.” She slid off the counter, turning to face the lioness who had to be Shaw’s sister. She looked exactly like him, only female. Sleek and elegant in designer jeans and sweater and designer boots, she still couldn’t hide the cold eyes of a predator. Or the rough edges of the less-than-wealthy upbringing Shaw had mentioned over late-night bowls of cereal.

“You’ll have to accept us eventually,” Ronnie said simply, her eyes downcast.

“I will?”

Ronnie smoothed her hand over her stomach. “Of course. Once I have our baby.”

The female went from fifteen feet away to two with one leap, coming at Ronnie just like she goaded her into doing. As soon as she landed, Ronnie slammed her hands against the female’s chest, forcing her back and right into Shaw’s arms as he walked into his kitchen.

He’d been having the best day, too. Got to sleep in, nice sore cock from great sex, and a sexy little She-wolf all to himself. But leave it to his own relatives to try and ruin everything.

He glared down at his twin. “Why are you here?”

Growling, she struggled out of his arms. “To check on you and to make sure that idiot,” she pointed at Mitch, “didn’t steal all your good china. But I had no idea you were entertaining canines.
Or getting them pregnant!
”