CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Awhile later, once their captive was well and truly dead, they fanned out around Vinnie’s kitchen to discuss what they’d learned from good ole Malcolm Taggart. Tate leaned against the counter with his arm around Havana’s shoulders, keeping her front pressed to his side and holding her arm around his waist. He needed the contact. Needed to breathe her in. Needed to have her close. His cat needed it. She seemed to sense that, because his not-so-tactile mate huddled into him without complaint.

Right then, Tate’s composure was a precarious thing. Because he couldn’t quite let go that he’d almost lost his mate. Again.

Taggart might no longer be breathing, but much of Tate’s anger remained, making him tense and edgy. His muscles were so tight he was surprised they weren’t cramping.

“I’ll contact River and have him look into Lola,” said Tate. “Even if she did lose her job, her address should be in the employee records—River can access them. If her address is shifter territory, we’ll know what pride she belongs to. But it would be a fair assumption that she belongs to Gideon’s family.”

“There are only three local jaguar prides,” said Luke. “We could quietly look into them and find out if any have a member named Lola.”

Tate nodded. “Do it. I’ll assign some cats to watch the casino for any signs of someone with Enrique and his friend’s descriptions. They might be regulars.”

“But if they only went to see Lola and she’s no longer an employee there, they probably won’t return,” Alex speculated.

“It wouldn’t hurt to have people stake-out the place just in case,” said Vinnie.

“We could question the staff, but I don’t think it would be wise,” said Tate. “If they’re friends of Enrique, they’ll tell him we were there. I don’t want Gideon to know we’re close to finding him.”

“He could cut and run,” said Bailey. “He could kill whatever loners he’s currently keeping captive for his auction.”

Tate nodded. “And we can’t risk that.” He took in a long breath. “So, in sum, I’ll have River look into Lola, enquire about the local jaguar prides, and assign some cats to watch the casino.”

“I can take care of the latter two,” Luke offered.

Tate inclined his head and then looked at Havana. “Do I want to know how you, Aspen, and Bailey got inside Taggart’s house without being detected by any of us?”

“It wasn’t that hard,” said Havana, but she didn’t elaborate.

Tate looked from Aspen to Bailey, who both steadily stared back at him. It was clear that he wasn’t going to get answers from their corner. Doubting that pushing them on it would get him anywhere, he decided to let it go. For now.

They all talked a little more about Taggart, the jaguars, and Gideon before finally choosing to head out.

Tate was able to coax Havana into going home with him. As they walked along the street, they were stopped several times by his pride mates. Nosy as hell, each of the cats fished for information, but they were clearly also concerned about him and Havana. Tate kept the conversations short, uncomfortable with having his mate out in the open after yet another drive-by shooting, even though he knew it was unlikely that Gideon would have someone strike again so quickly.

Finally inside his house, Tate felt he could breathe easier. No one could get to her here. And even if someone went as far as to shoot at his windows, the bullets wouldn’t break the bulletproof glass. She was safest here, on his territory, where he could protect her. Still, the tension didn’t leave his body.

After he made the necessary calls related to the Gideon matter, Tate headed to the kitchen. He grabbed a beer for himself and poured Havana a glass of the wine he now stocked, knowing it was her preferred brand. They then settled on the sofa to watch TV. He lay on his back with her sprawled over him, her head resting on his chest. Needing skin-to-skin contact, he slipped one hand into her panties to palm her ass. He also snaked his free hand under her tee to drift his fingers over her back. But it was hard to relax when his brain kept playing the “if” game.

If he hadn’t seen the barrel of the gun pointing out of the Charger’s window, Havana might have been shot right in front of him.

If there hadn’t been a car parked nearby for them to use as cover, Tate might not have been able to shield her from the bullets.

If they’d reacted even just a little bit slower, Havana might have been hit before she ducked out of range of the gun.

If Farrell hadn’t been close by and able to follow the vehicle, they might never have found Taggart before he fled.

The whole thing had been a close fucking call, just like the last drive-by. Sheer luck had been on Havana’s side both times. But if there was a third time, just maybe she wouldn’t have that same luck. That thought made his throat burn. He couldn’t lose her.

“Ow,” she whined. “Claws.”

Tate blinked and retracted his claws, realizing they’d been pricking the globe of her ass. He massaged the skin there. “Sorry, babe.”

She lifted her head and rested her chin on his chest. “You need to stop brooding about whatever has you tense as a bow.”

His cat puffed up in affront. “I don’t brood.”

“So says every dominant male shifter. In reality, you’re all experts at it.” She danced her fingertips along his collarbone. “Distract yourself. Think about something else.”

“All right.” Tate swept his hand up her back. “Maybe you can now tell me how you and your girls managed to not only sneak into Taggart’s house but to do it without Alex, Vinnie, or Farrell—all of whom were guarding the exterior of the building—sensing the three of you. I didn’t even sense you enter the house, and neither did Luke.”

“Like I said earlier, it wasn’t hard. The guys were so busy watching out for the cheetahs that they just didn’t notice us. And you and your brother were preoccupied with Taggart and his friend.”

Tate snorted. Bullshit. Vinnie, Alex, and Farrell were too well-trained to not notice three females approaching the house … unless those three females had once received similar training. “Really? Hmm. I can’t help but get the feeling that you have experience with sneaking in and out of buildings, just as I can’t help but get the feeling that you have experience with interrogations. Am I right?”

She pursed her lips. “I once had a job where I needed those skills. I wasn’t a gun for hire or anything.”

“I never thought for one moment that you were,” Tate assured her. “You’re not going to tell me more?”

Her expression turned grave. “If I tell you, you can’t share it with anyone. Not even your dad or your siblings. If you’re uncomfortable with keeping a secret from them, I can understand that. But it also means I can’t tell you what you want to know.”

“If you need something to stay between us, it stays between us. I’m loyal to my family, yes, but you’re my family, too. More, you’re my priority. My loyalty is primarily to you. You can trust me.”

“I know that.”

Her easy acceptance of his promise warmed him. “So tell me.”

She sat up straight and took in a deep breath. “Okay. Me, Aspen, and Bailey once worked for the Movement.”

Stunned, Tate simply stared at her for a long moment. “The Movement?”

“Yes. So did Camden, though he mostly worked jobs alone. We were part of the group for eight years . To the outside world, we lived seemingly normal lives.”

Nothing she said could have surprised him more … and yet it fit. Shifters with those three females’ traits, strengths, and deep sense of loyalty would make them prime candidates for the Movement. It explained so much—not just the skills she’d shown, but how well she kept it together each time danger came too close.

He gently squeezed her hips. “Thank you for your service. I can easily visualize you working for the Movement. And Aspen and Bailey, for that matter. I’ll bet you were good at what you did.”

Havana couldn’t help but grin. “Oh, we were. And we were proud to be part of the group. We might not have left so soon if members weren’t required to retire after eight years. They want people to go out and find their mates.”

“Ah, I see. If a shifter is so deeply devoted to such a cause, it might be hard for them to sense their mate or the presence of a mating bond.”

“Exactly. Plus, the Movement doesn’t want their members spending the rest of their days dealing with prejudiced assholes.”

Tate twisted his mouth. “A lot of people believe the group was founded by Clive Vincent, the father of a Mercury Pack she-wolf I know.”

“She performs at the Velvet Lounge, right? Plays the electric violin?”

“That’s right.”

Havana had been there a few times. The club was cool, and the performers were even better. Alex’s sister, Mila, often sang there—she was seriously talented.

“Even Clive’s daughter is unsure if he heads the Movement,” Tate went on. “Since he’s in prison, many say he can’t possibly be running the group from there. Others believe it’s a damn good cover for him.”

Sensing that he was fishing for info, Havana shook her head. “I can’t give you specifics about the Movement. Not because I don’t trust you, but because I pledged an oath that I would never reveal what I knew—I take shit like that seriously, and I would think you’d want that in a mate. They’re not just a rebel group. They’re a family of sorts. And they once welcomed me into that family. A lot of the strengths I have today, I owe to them. I won’t betray them, especially not just to assuage your curiosity.”

Tate inclined his head. “Fair enough.”

She felt her mouth curve. “There you go gritting your teeth again.”

Using his grip on her hips, he pulled her down and nipped her lower lip. “You’re supposed to give me my own way all the time.”

Havana snorted. Not freaking likely. She was about to make it clear that no such thing would ever happen, but then his tongue swept into her mouth, bold and sure … and all she could think about was having more.

His warm hand clasped her nape as he took complete possession of her mouth. There was nothing slow or easy about his kiss. No, it was so hot and wet and explicitly carnal that her body came to life. There was a lot of tingling and pulsing and throbbing in some very interesting places. She broke the kiss, needing to catch her breath.

Tightening his grip on her nape, he yanked her so that their lips touched. “I’ll let your mouth go when I’m done with it.”

Oh, defiance surged through her system in a hot rush. She stabbed his chest with the tips of her claws—not drawing blood, just warning him. “Careful.”

His free hand clutched her ass. “No fighting me today. You’re going to give me what I want exactly how I want it.”

Havana could only smile. “Aw, Garfield, that’s gotta be the cutest damn thing I’ve ever heard.”

Tate cursed as his mate disappeared from his arms and leaped off the sofa. Adrenaline coursed through his blood as he jumped to his feet and pursued her. She was fast, but he caught up to her in the kitchen and managed to tag her with an arm around her waist. Hauling her against him, he ignored her kicks and insults and pressed her front against the wall, caging her there with his body.

She hissed, growled, struggled, writhed. He pinned her wrists above her head and sank his teeth into the crook of her neck in a dominant hold. Her body went rigid. For all of three seconds. Then she went back to squirming and snarling.

Tate didn’t react. He just kept her wrists pinned and her flesh gripped between his teeth. But even when he made it clear he wouldn’t back down, she didn’t settle. Transferring her wrists to one hand, he clawed off her shorts and panties. Oh, she stilled then. To reward her, he licked over his bite. His cock throbbed at the mere sight of it, straining against his fly. Seeing the indentation from his teeth on her skin always heated his blood. It also made his cat growl in a primal satisfaction.

Tate punched his hips forward, pressing his cock against her ass. “Love that this is now my ass, babe.” He had all kinds of future plans for it.

She peered at him over her shoulder and snorted. “Yours?”

He put his mouth to her ear. “There’s not a single part of you—inside or out—that doesn’t belong to me. You’re my other half. That ownership is imprinted in every cell of your body. I’m written into your skin, your bones, your soul. You have the same deep, absolute claim to me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He clawed off both her tee and bra. “Now … I’m going to release your hands so you can turn around. Then you’re going to undo my jeans so I can hoist you up and fuck you against this wall. Understood?” He raked his teeth over her shoulder when she didn’t answer. “Understood?”

“I hear you, kitty,” she sassed.

He bit her earlobe. “Watch it, baby.” He slowly released her hands and edged back enough that she had adequate space to turn. He braced himself for impact as she spun to face him. But she didn’t shove him away as he’d half-expected. She snapped open his fly and curled her fingers around his pulsing cock. He groaned. “That’s my girl.” Then she dropped to her knees.

He hissed as her tongue lashed the head of his dick. “You trying to take control?” She took him into her mouth. And as all that wet heat engulfed him, he found it hard to give a shit that she was trying to top from the bottom.

Havana sucked hard, keeping the suction tight, remembering how he liked it. He was right. This was her way of taking control. Her way of stealing his control. And if he was weak enough to give into the pleasure rather than snatch back what she’d stolen, that was on him.

She kept on sucking and licking, losing herself in the act … which hadn’t been part of the plan, but she liked him this way—his thighs trembling, his cock throbbing, his hand in her hair to guide her movements. She liked making him feel good. Liked that he was hers to taste.

His eyes bore into her, hooded and flinty. “Fuck but you look good on your knees with my cock in your mouth.” His fingertips dug into her scalp. “Take more, baby. Christ, yeah, that’s it.”

She didn’t object when he tangled his hand in her hair and began pumping his dick into her mouth. She just sucked harder, humming and dragging her nails down his thigh.

He growled. “Eyes, Havana,” he bit out. “I want you looking right at me while my come is sliding down your throat.”

She flicked her gaze up to his, and whatever he saw there made him thrust faster and deeper. He exploded, holding her head still while she swallowed it all. As he loosened his grip on her hair, breathing hard, she inwardly smiled. Oh yeah, she’d obliterated his control and topped—

He dropped to his knees, pushed her flat on her back, grabbed her hips, and pulled her pussy up to his mouth. She arched, her head lolling back. His tongue did all kinds of wicked things. Licked, probed, lashed, thrust, rolled around her clit—winning him lots of sexual points.

She’d had guys eat her out before, but Tate? He didn’t simply go down on her. He dined. Savored. Purred like the self-indulgent cat he was.

He didn’t let her come, though. Which lost him a whole lot of points. He ignored her indignant hiss.

Licking his lips, he dropped her hips to the floor, his eyes crazed. Hmm, he was hard again. She did appreciate his quick recovery time.

He roughly spread her thighs. “You’re going to get so fucked.”

She went to make a run for it just because.

He covered her body with his. “Oh, no you don’t.”

Oh yes, she did. She curled her legs around him and kicked like crazy.

He slipped his hand under her knee, bent her leg toward her chest, and plunged his cock deep inside her. And she came. Hard.

Gritting his teeth, Tate rode her through her orgasm, pounding into her, relishing the feel of her tight inner muscles spasming and quaking around him. “Yeah, this is where I need to be.”

He might have come once already, but it hadn’t taken the edge off. He was all fired up from … everything. Her taste on his tongue. Her moans and whimpers. Her tits bouncing against his chest. Her scent spiced with arousal. Her slick pussy squeezing his dick. More, the memory of her sucking him off was on replay in his head. Coming down her throat wasn’t only hot as hell, it was another way to mark her as his.

Knowing she liked it, he sucked and nipped at her pulse as he kept slamming into her. She clung tight to his shoulders, and her claws slid out just enough to dig into his skin. Lifting his head, he saw the struggle on her face, and he knew she was fighting the urge to leave her brand on him.

“Do it,” he snarled. “Mark me.”

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and retracted her claws.

He growled. “Havana.”

“Your cat—”

“Needs this. I need it.” Tate pinched her nipple, making her eyes snap open. “Fucking do it. Mark me. Make sure every female out there knows I’m taken. Make sure none of the women from my past thinks they can—” He groaned as her teeth latched onto the crook of his neck. More, she dragged her claws down his back, roughly drawing blood.

Tate swore. His control gone, he hooked both her legs over his shoulders, and buried himself inside her yet again—deeper this time. So fucking deep it shocked the breath out of her.

He powered into her, feeling his orgasm creep toward him. “I love knowing my come is inside your belly right now.” It gave him a primitive satisfaction that his cat shared. “Know what else I love? Being balls-deep in this pussy. So fucking tight. Perfect. Made for me.”

Her upper lip curled back. “Yeah well your cock was made for me.”

“Every inch of it.” Feeling her pussy tighten and flutter, Tate slipped his hand between their bodies to part her folds, exposing her clit to every rough thrust of his cock.

Her eyes went wide. “Shit, shit, shit, I’m gonna …”

He slid his hand around her throat and squeezed. “All over my cock, baby, come all over … Christ, yeah.” Wave upon wave of pleasure thundered through him. He ground out her name as he shoved his cock deep and spilled himself inside her.

His heart thumping hard in his chest, Tate let her legs slip from his shoulders and draped himself over her. Resting his weight on his forearms, he slowly glided in and out of her, just enjoying the feel of her.

Once he’d finally gotten his breath back, he rolled over, taking her with him so that she was sprawled on top of him. The move pulled a little on the claw marks spanning his back, but he didn’t mind that. He liked feeling that twinge of pain; liked the reminder that she’d branded him.

She hummed. “If there’s an award out there for eating pussy, you totally deserve to win it.”

A low laugh rumbled his chest. “I don’t even have a response for that.”

She danced her fingers over his shoulder. “How’s your cat?”

“He’s not upset about the bite, babe, if that’s what you’re wondering. He’s actually pretty damn smug.”

Relief filled Havana, and the tightness in her chest eased away. “Good.” She poked his shoulder. “You mentioned the women from your past because you knew it would make me think of Ashlynn and that I’d want to brand you as a warning to her.”

He shrugged, unrepentant. “I needed you to power past your hesitation and stop fighting yourself. Is your devil unhappy that you marked me?”

“No. Which is a good sign.” If Havana had done it just a week ago, her devil would have pitched a fit for sure. “Seems like your plan to win her over is working.”

“But she hasn’t opened that mental door even a crack yet, has she?”

“She’s stubborn that way.”

“And highly protective of you.”

“That, too.”

He smoothed his hand up her back and delved it into her hair. “Stay here tonight.”

“Can’t. I didn’t pack a bag.” She snorted as his face morphed into that “why aren’t things going my way, I’m confused” frown that never failed to tickle her.

“You have some of your things here,” he pointed out.

“But not everything I need.”

“So let’s go to your place and pick up more of your stuff. I don’t want us sleeping in separate beds. I like waking up and seeing you right there.”

“Hmm, well, you are a pleasant sight to wake to, so I won’t argue. Come on then, let’s go to my place.”

Walking into the living area of her apartment a short time later, Havana saw a highly agitated Camden standing near the bookcase. As she took in the entire scene, she could only sigh.

A black mamba was curled up on the bookcase, a large part of her lower body dangling from the piece of furniture … and the base of her body wrapped tight around a bearcat’s neck. Choking, the bearcat kicked and scratched. Then she sank her teeth into the snake, who hissed loudly.

Havana cursed beneath her breath. “You two have got to be kidding me.”

Both animals froze. Their gazes snapped to her and then briefly slid away.

“Put her down,” Havana told the mamba.

The snake did it fast, no doubt roughly dumping the bearcat on the hardwood floor on purpose just to be a bitch.

Camden scratched his head. “I tried calming them down, Havana. It didn’t work. They both went to bite me when I intervened.”

Havana scrubbed a hand down her face. “I’m honestly worried they’ll kill each other one day.”

Coming up behind her, Tate splayed a hand on her back. “I don’t think they’ll kill each other. Well, not on purpose.”

The mamba slithered down to the floor and then shifted. Bailey sniffed at Aspen, who’d also shifted and was pulling on her clothes. “You can’t blame my snake for the fight this time. She was all the way up there minding her own business. Your bearcat provoked her.”

Aspen tossed Bailey’s clothes at her. “You missed out the part where your shit-stirring mamba took my bearcat’s bamboo shoots up there with her.”

“She was hungry.”

“She doesn’t eat bamboo shoots.”

“She wanted to try something different.”

“No, the bitch wanted to pick a fight, so she did.”

Bailey wagged her finger. “Don’t act like your bearcat is all innocent. She stole the batteries out of my vibrator. Again. And I would love to know where they are, because I have a feeling that more of my stuff is in her private stash—like my unicorn voodoo doll.”

Aspen leaned toward the mamba. “She didn’t touch your stupid vibrator, or your stupid unicorn.”

Havana wrinkled her nose at Aspen. “I do hope your bearcat didn’t put her hands anywhere near another person’s vibrator, but she is inappropriate enough to explore someone’s underwear drawer. Tell me she didn’t snatch any of Bailey’s thongs or panties.”

“I don’t wear thongs,” said Bailey, folding her arms. “Don’t see why anyone would want to. You’re just buying a wedgie.”

Tate coughed out a laugh and put a fist to his mouth.

Sighing, Havana pointed from Aspen to Bailey. “You two need to get a handle on your inner animals before they do some permanent damage to each other.”

Bailey’s brow furrowed. “My mamba would never really hurt Aspen or her bearcat. She loves them. She just also has the best time driving them to the brink of insanity. Is that so terrible?”

Aspen flexed her fingers. “Just because you long ago tumbled over said brink doesn’t mean I want to.”

“But it’s more fun on this side,” said Bailey.

As her girls continued to argue, Havana turned to Tate and said, “I know, I know, they’re crazy.”

Tate pulled her close. “On the upside, it means they’ll fit perfectly in my pride.”

Havana felt her brows lift. “Well, there is that.”