CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Bailey was feeling blessed. Seriously. Because the mouth currently clamped around her pussy was an absolute champ at going down on a woman.

Another week had gone by during which she and Deke had shared a bed. His touch-hunger wasn’t as severe now. That didn’t mean he fucked her any less often or any less rough.

Bailey had zero complaints about that. Especially right then. Knelt on the base of his shower stall, he held her thighs wide open as he feasted. She could only cling to the edges of the bench on which her butt was perched, her hips angled toward him.

Around them, the hot spray pattered against tile, drummed down on his back, and steamed the air. Out of range of the spray, she might have felt cold—especially with droplets of water drizzling down her naked, goosebump-y flesh—if her nerve-endings didn’t feel like they were blazing.

A wet flick to her clit made her gasp. No lie, Deke had a tongue that could enslave a person; could addict them like nothing else. Every velvet stroke of it pushed her closer to the orgasm that was almost on her.

Her head fell back as he rolled the tip of his tongue around her clit. A clit he then suckled on, his fingers digging into her skin. Oh God, oh God, she was gonna—

He pulled back.

Bailey’s head snapped up. She glared at him, her gut clenching at the dark intent in his eyes. “Do not do that thing where you make me wait a lifetime to come.”

His lips quirked. “But you like that game,” he mocked.

“No one likes that game, you dick.”

He gave her a wounded look that was pure bullshit. “That wasn’t nice.”

“You messing with me isn’t nice. I didn’t make you dance around an orgasm just now.” She’d sucked him off when they first got into the shower.

“No, but you did almost spit out my come just to piss me off.”

“Almost,” she stressed. “Almost, almost, almost.”

“Not seeing what that has to do with anything.” He latched onto a nipple and sucked hard, sending streaks of hot pleasure to her clit.

She sank her fingers into his hair, arching into the calloused hand that skated up her body and then palmed her breast. There was an edge in his grip. A greed that held a note of entitlement … like he was declaring with his touch alone that only he had the right to use her body for his pleasure.

He licked his way to the breast he cupped, using his hold on it to feed himself her nipple. He sucked, bit, and rubbed it against the roof of his mouth.

It felt good. So good. But she needed more. She ached inside, the sensation near unbearable. “Enough with the teasing, Boy Toy.”

He released the taut bud and arched a reprimanding brow. “Now that’s not my name, is it?”

“Whatever. Just do me.”

He skirted his warm lips up her neck and to her ear. “You’re not getting my dick until you say my name.”

Grr, her snake wanted to bite him so hard right now. She gripped his solid shoulders tight, pricking his skin with her nails. “Don’t push me, Hammond.” His surname would have to do.

He hummed. “Close. Not close enough.” Then he went back to playing with her breasts. Squeezing. Nipping. Shaping. Suckling.

Her defiance crumbling little by little, Bailey bit back a whimper. Her body felt tight and hot, caught in a state of such intolerably intense anticipation that she thought she might implode with it. “Enough.” Her voice came out raspy and thick.

He drew his teeth over her nipple. “You know what you’ve got to do.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Deke.”

“Again.”

“What?”

“Say it again. And look at me this time.” Deke had to fight a smile when her eyes flipped open and blazed into his, promising retribution. He’d expect nothing less. She was a mamba, after all.

Her upper lip curled. “Deke,” she finally repeated.

He almost laughed. She’d said his name like it was a dirty word. He flicked her nose with his own. “Such a perfect little pout.”

She frowned. “I don’t pout.”

Oh, she did.

“Now where’s my orgasm?”

He stood, tugged her to her feet, and pulled her flush against him. “Coming right up,” he said, cupping her delectable ass. Their breaths clashed as he slanted his mouth over hers. Ravenous, he kissed her deep and wet, greedy for everything she had to give.

His hard cock throbbed viciously. It was nothing to do with touch-hunger and everything to do with how badly he needed to sink into that exquisitely tight pussy he’d come to crave.

Her hand slipped between them and curled around his cock, startling a grunt out of him. He squeezed her ass tight, his mind’s eye flashing with all the things he wanted to do to it.

She gave his dick a quick pump. “In me. Now.”

He tugged her skilled fingers off his cock. “That’s the plan.” He spun her a little too roughly, his body screaming to possess her.

Letting out a muffled oath, she slapped her palms on the tiled wall to steady herself.

Deke pulled her hips back slightly and tilted them just right. He pushed the head of his dick inside her, groaning as her scalding hot muscles bitingly contracted around him. “Knowing my come’s in your belly right now just makes me want to fuck you that much more.” He drove his cock deep with a merciless forward-snap of his hips, seating himself to the balls.

She jerked, her breath catching in her throat. “Jesus.”

He rode her hard, filling the air with the sound of flesh smacking slick flesh. The luscious scent of her need blanketed him, an electric zap to his senses. It sang in the stall’s humid air, calling to him; drugging his mind; driving him to take her harder. So he did.

The tips of her fingers scrabbled against the wet tiles as she threw her hips back to meet every frantic thrust. She was never a passive participant. She took what she wanted. Demanded what she needed.

He grabbed her hand, lowered it to her pussy, and spread her fingers near her entrance. “Feel me taking you.” Pounding faster, he gritted his teeth at the sensation of her fingers brushing over his shaft.

His eyes flew to the brand on the back of her shoulder, and his balls ached at the sight. That mark of his possession was straight-up porn for him. It shouldn’t be. Didn’t used to be. Initially, he’d viewed it as an inconvenient necessity; a way to prevent his cat from interfering.

That had changed.

He wasn’t sure when. Perhaps it had been a gradual thing. Whatever the case, he now liked marking her. Even looked forward to it. More, it didn’t bother his cat any longer.

Right then, Deke found himself disappointed that his brand didn’t yet need renewing. The act of gripping her skin between his teeth, of biting down hard enough to leave a mark … fuck, his cock was pulsing just thinking about it.

Feeling his balls draw up tight, he caught a fistful of her wet hair and tugged her head back. “Play with your clit, baby. Make yourself come.”

She didn’t hesitate. She got right to it. And each time she rubbed or rolled her clit, her inner muscles spasmed around him.

He wasn’t sure he could take it for long. He didn’t want to come first. Didn’t—

Fingers stroked over his aching balls.

Deke cursed as his release slammed into him with such shocking, violent force it stole his breath. His thoughts splintering, he kept on thrusting, pumping his come inside her … barely aware that she’d exploded right along with him.

It took some time for Bailey’s brain to regroup after the dazzling orgasm that practically tore her apart. When she was finally able to think again, he was pulling his softening cock out of her. He brushed his lips over his bite in a barely-there kiss, making her pulse do a silly little spike.

Her pulse did it again when they got out of the shower. Why? Because the big lump didn’t do his usual thing and toss her a towel—something he occasionally threw at her face, always snickering when she caught it wicked fast. Nope, this time he carefully wrapped a towel around her and began to pat her dry.

For long moments, she stood there, not knowing what to do. Clearing her throat, she finally said, “I can dry myself, you know.”

“Clever girl.” Pure sarcasm.

Dick.

He finished drying her off, dumped the luxury cotton fabric on the floor, and then none too gently lifted her.

She squeaked, fisting his own towel so tightly she almost tugged it off his waist. He carried her into the bedroom and dropped her on the mattress. She scraped her wet locks off her face. “You gotta stop tossing me around like I’m a damn doll.”

“Why?” It sounded like a genuine query.

She rolled her eyes. And people thought she was difficult.

Deke gently threw a comb her way and then dried himself off while she dragged said comb through her hair. Done, he took it from her, returned it to the surface of the dresser, and then sank onto the mattress beside her.

Bailey frowned when he yanked the duvet over them, as if they were settling down for the night. She never slept over. Ever.

Still, she wasn’t gonna shove off the covers. Nu-uh. She was cold, and his quilt was so much thicker than hers. She’d just lie here until she warmed up. Then she’d get dressed and leave.

The past week had been uneventful in every respect, really. There’d been no more attacks. She hadn’t seen or heard from the jackals, Ginny, or Jackson’s family again.

As for her and Deke … they each did their own thing during the day, and then she’d go to his apartment in the evening. They sometimes had dinner here together. Mostly, though, she ate before she showed up.

In that sense, nothing had changed. Yet it had. Because he’d started doing stuff he didn’t do before. Like call her “baby” during sex. Like shampoo her hair. Like touch her outside of fucking and even in public—a little thing, maybe, but he used to act as if to touch her would have been to stick his hand in a damn fire, so it didn’t feel little.

It also sort of flustered her. People generally weren’t touchy-feely toward Bailey. Her past partners had given her plenty of personal space and hadn’t been too tactile, sensing she preferred it that way. If Deke sensed it, he was choosing to ignore it.

He even sometimes dropped a kiss on her mouth before she left his apartment to return to her own. She called him on it each time. He never did anything but flash her a small smile that held a tinge of pity. Like it was both cute and a little sad that she thought she had a say in the matter.

Rather than annoyed, she found herself rolling her eyes.

One thing hadn’t changed—her body still lit up like Vegas for him. And what kind of unfair bullshit was that?

She didn’t have much time left to work off their chemistry, because their arrangement would end soon. Or might do. All things considered, she supposed there was a chance he’d be interested in scrapping their fling’s intended expiry date. He wasn’t tied to Dayna now, and he didn’t seem anywhere near as annoyed by Bailey’s presence as he used to be.

She kept waiting for him to tire of her. Not simply sexually, but in general. Bailey wasn’t an easy person to be around—she owned that. Embraced it, even. But Deke just seemed to not care.

No matter how much she annoyed him, no matter how exasperated he became, no matter what she said or did … he never told her to go away. Never asked her to shut up. Never proclaimed that she was too much of this or too little of that.

Oh, he insulted her and stuff, but it was just playful shit talk. The dude might have little patience, but he never actually lost it with her. And she had to admit, it was nice to feel accepted. Her snake had grown to like and respect him for it.

Given that his sense of restlessness had eased and she rarely saw him scratching himself these days, she figured the touch-hunger would pass altogether in a week or so, maybe even less. She’d be relieved for him and his cat, but if he didn’t wish to extend their arrangement she’d be secretly disappointed that they were parting ways.

It was kind of horrifying to realize that she’d actually grown to really like the guy. How in the hell had that happened? It wasn’t as if he’d invested any effort into trying to make her warm up to him or anything. It just simply came to be.

He might be using her for sex, but he never made her feel used. On the contrary, he made her feel … good. It was in the small things he did, really.

He stocked mac and cheese micro meals for her in his freezer. He always gave her a mouthful of crap if he found out she’d skipped lunch and insisted she take better care of herself. And, knowing she hated the cold, he never put the thermostat low when she was here even though he burned hotter than the freaking sun.

A heavy arm draped over her as he scooted closer. She snapped her eyes open, only then realizing she’d closed them.

“Why are you slapping yourself?” he asked, his voice lazy, his breath fanning her hair.

“Trying to wake myself up a little. I don’t want to accidentally fall asleep.”

He only grunted. It had to make her terribly weird that she was becoming fond of those grunts. His sex grunts were her favorite, though.

Feeling her eyelids get real heavy, she forced them wide open. “I gotta go.”

“’Kay,” he mumbled.

But neither of them moved an inch.

“Really, I gotta go. Lift your arm.”

“You lift it.”

She frowned at him, but he missed it—his eyes were closed. “No, you do it.”

“I’m tired.”

“So am I.”

“Then rest for a sec while you work up the energy. And don’t wake me when you leave.”

She sniffed. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

Bailey let herself relax as she waited for her body to catch a second wind. She’d get up in a few minutes. She truly would. Though it would be hard, because he was so warm and his duvet was a delight and she was sleepy from post-sex chemicals. She’d just rest her eyes for a sec. Just a sec …

Bailey wasn’t sure what broke her dream, but it softly cracked as wakefulness pulled at her. As the cobwebs of sleep lifted, she let her eyes flutter open. Not too wide, though. It was kind of bright in here.

Licking her dry lips, she blinked several times to clear her fuzzy vision so she could check the time on her LED lamp. Only … her lamp wasn’t there. Nor was her nightstand. A mahogany one stood in its place—taller than hers, and littered with receipts and chump change.

She tensed, awareness bleeding into her mind fast. An awareness that she was in Deke’s bed, his chest to her back, his arm curled around her waist, his face buried in her hair. And it was morning.

“Fuck,” she slurred.

He hummed, the sound all gravelly with sleep. “Figured you’d say that when you woke.”

She let out a very Deke-like grunt, unamused by the hint of teasing in his tone. Her snake thought it was funny, though. She thought the whole damn situation was funny. When it was not. “Get off me.”

“Later.”

“Later?”

“Need to fuck you first.”

Her stomach twisted. She debated his claim quite fiercely, but those hands of his—skilled and bold—changed her mind pretty quickly. Soon, he was taking her from behind, and she was loving it.

Then she went back to being annoyed. Which he seemed to find entertaining, the shithead.

Her movements quick and sharp, she washed and dressed. He did the same—though much more relaxed, as if this was the norm for them. Ignoring her protests, he then ushered her into the kitchen and onto a chair at his dining table before setting about making them coffee and cereal.

“Stop scowling,” he told her, his eyes dancing.

“Don’t wanna.”

He pulled two mugs out of a cupboard. “It ain’t a big deal, Bailey.”

“I don’t do overnight stays.”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t.”

Deke didn’t bother hiding his smirk. Bailey rarely got pissed at herself, accepting of her flaws and habits and quirks. But whenever she realized she’d subconsciously lowered her guard, she’d get all moody and snarly. That was exactly what she’d done last night or she wouldn’t have been relaxed enough to fall asleep beside him.

He honestly hadn’t realized until recently how much she made a point of keeping people at a distance. Maybe because she was so tightly bonded to Havana and Aspen. But he’d paid more attention lately. And he’d sensed that though she didn’t mind befriending people, she was hesitant to make them close friends.

The more time he spent around Bailey, the more he came to realize that he’d harbored many misconceptions about her.

Because she treated life as if it were one big party, he’d fallen into the trap of believing that she didn’t take it seriously. He’d been wrong. Bailey took the things that mattered most to her, the things that were within her control to influence or change or keep steady, very seriously—such as her responsibilities and her close friendships. Everything else? She shrugged it off rather than stress over it; laughed rather than dwelled; joked rather than whined.

He used to think she possessed no principles. But she’d guarded his secret that his cat was having issues. She hadn’t liked that his marking her might hurt Dayna. And though she wasn’t always sweet about it, she was honest. Also, though she cared little what people thought, she didn’t consider their emotions unimportant. She was far more compassionate and understanding than she might appear.

Though she provoked people like she was born for it, it wasn’t to be hurtful. Unless you’d pissed her off, of course. Mostly, she did it for two reasons.

One, yes, it just plain amused her. But also for the same reason that others might tell a lot of jokes or funny stories—it was really her way of connecting with others. She took it several steps further than most would, and he suspected it was to discourage people from getting too close. In that sense, it was her armor. Probably had been for a very long time.

That she was so dismissive of what most considered factual and rational made it easy to miss that she was highly intelligent and insightful. She just questioned things rather than accepted them as pure truths, likely due to her distrust of authority figures. And who wouldn’t be so distrustful of authority when the adults in your life, including your Alphas, threw you away like you were nothing?

He still didn’t know exactly what went down when her old Alphas banished her. He’d poked and prodded at her, wanting answers, but she’d resisted coughing up the info. Still, he felt he could safely conclude that her trust issues and hesitation to get close to people stemmed from her old nest’s betrayal.

Once he’d set their coffees on the table, Deke carried the bowls of cereal over. Noticing she was still glowering, he leaned forward, planted a palm on the table, and then wrapped his hand around the back of her neck. “Ask yourself what difference it really made that you slept here and not in your own bed. Nothing has changed. The world isn’t on fire. You didn’t turn into a vase.”

She mumbled something beneath her breath, still scowling. He couldn’t say why he found it an adorable sight, he just did. So he gave her a quick kiss—or that was his intention. But the moment his lips touched hers, their sexual connection flared. He took her mouth, sweeping his tongue inside, gorging on her taste.

He’d known that fucking their attraction into dust wouldn’t be an easy feat, but he’d thought he could at least take the edge off it by getting his fill of her. He’d thought that acting out his fantasies would give them a mundane feel and he’d eventually lose interest.

It hadn’t quite worked out that way.

He knew her body well, but that didn’t satisfy him. He wanted to know it even better. To become acquainted with every fine inch of it. To etch every curve and dip and weak spot into his memory. If he could only convince her to let him tie her to the bed so he could indulge himself that way, he would set about doing exactly that.

He’d pinned her wrists to the bed occasionally when he’d fucked her. She’d liked it, so he didn’t doubt that she’d like being bound to the bed. The problem was that Bailey didn’t trust easy. He believed she trusted him to an extent, but not enough to make herself that vulnerable to him.

Deke figured he’d have time to bypass those issues of hers, since he wasn’t feeling a need to end their fling once the touch-hunger left him. He hadn’t run that by her yet, though he would soon. He doubted she’d have an issue with it, considering she was more relaxed around him these days and wasn’t showing any signs of wanting out.

She broke the kiss with a sharp nip to his lower lip. “Stop that,” she said, the words a little breathy.

He arched a brow. “Stop what?”

“You’re only supposed to kiss me when we’re having sex or leading up to it.”

He felt his mouth curve. “That so? Hmm. Does that mean I can’t do this either?” He closed his hand around her breast.

She batted said hand away. “Yes, it does.”

Even as his cat cast her an unhappy look, Deke smiled. He liked seeing her worked up. “Really? Anything else I shouldn’t be doing?”

Her mouth firmed. “You think this is funny?”

“Yeah. It’s not often I see you getting wound up about nothing.” He frowned, pensive. “You know, I thought you just struggled with people being nice to you. But it’s not simply that, is it? You struggle with any signs—physical or otherwise—of affection.”

“So?” she snarked, defensive.

“So it makes me wonder why.”

“Who needs affection? It’s blah.”

“Blah?”

“Yes.”

His chest tightened. In other words, she hadn’t gotten a lot of affection growing up, so at some point she’d told herself she didn’t need it, and she’d eventually come to believe it.

Knowing she’d bristle if he showed her any sympathy or tried pushing her further, he went for playing the matter down. “Is it really affection, though, when what I’m mostly doing is groping you?”

She pursed her lips, thoughtful. “I guess not.”

“Then it’s not something you need to be bothered by, is it?”

“I guess not.”

“Good. Then relax. Eat.” He took the seat across from her, watching as she picked up her spoon. When she started to eat, his cat’s tension eased and he settled down.

In spite of how withdrawn he’d become, the cat had grown to tolerate Bailey. Mostly, it was because the feline was a creature of habit. He got used to things. Didn’t like change. Preferred routine. And the cat had become accustomed to Bailey’s nightly presence, so now he didn’t growl at her so much.

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Deke shot her a look. “You need to deal with that situation.” He tipped his chin toward the garter snake slithering on his kitchen floor.

She shrugged. “I told you Clive likes to visit me.”

“And I told you I don’t want him here.”

“Relax. He’s just a snake.”

Relax? Seriously? “He hissed at me yesterday.”

“You were being rude.”

“Rude?”

“You told him to get out. That’s hurtful.”

Deke frowned. “How can it have hurt him? He can’t understand a word I say.”

“How do you know? Because it’s written in science books that animals can’t understand humans? Pfft. Humans get stuff wrong all the time.”

“I think, in this, they’re correct.”

“Then I can’t help you.”

“With what? I wasn’t asking for help.”

“But you need it.” She wagged her finger. “You’re too easily swayed.”

“Because I believe scientific claims hold merit?”

“Yes.”

Deke sighed. “Whatever.” He dug into his cereal.

As they ate, she kept on scowling. Not at him. No, he suspected she was annoyed with herself for agreeing to stay for breakfast. He hadn’t been so sure that she would.

Last night, he’d been awake when she drifted off. He’d sensed her body go heavy, heard her breathing change. He could have woken her, but he’d wanted her to stay. Wanted her to be there when he woke.

She didn’t know, but he usually didn’t sleep beside others either. Before now, he’d only ever made an exception with Dayna, because he’d known her so long and there had been a comfortable familiarity there.

One that was now gone.

His mother was delighted that he’d distanced himself from Dayna. Deke had thought she’d then cease trying to push him toward Bailey, but Livy was no less invested in her plan.

Once they were finished eating, he followed Bailey to her apartment so she could pull on fresh clothes. Since it was his new habit to walk her to her vehicle each morning, he usually came knocking on her door around this time to escort her outside. After the acid attack, he was taking no chances.

When they exited their complex a short time later, he caught sight of Gerard and Therese standing beside her car. The male noticed Deke, briefly tensed, and then all but shoved her into the vehicle.

Deke snorted to himself. He wasn’t surprised that Gerard would attempt to hide her. Because though Dayna had ceased trying to contact Deke, she seemed to have talked plenty to her closest friends. Gerard had been quick to tell one and all that she was devastated Deke “replaced her.” But the bartender had also claimed he thought it was for the best that Dayna and Deke were no longer bound by a vow.

Therese, however, hadn’t been so fair or reasonable. She had—though not to his face—vilified Deke for doing this to Dayna while the woman was “knee-deep in grief,” which was something of an exaggeration. Therese had also verbally flayed Deke behind his back for, by branding another, being unfaithful to Dayna—another exaggeration, since he and Dayna weren’t in a committed relationship.

More, Therese had made out like Bailey was some kind of homewrecker, though the pride in general disagreed; they felt that the vow had been stretched out for long enough, and that if Deke and Dayna really had a future it would have been obvious by now.

He had every intention of confronting Therese at some point for the crap she’d spouted about Bailey, but he wouldn’t do it here and now. His priority was making sure his mamba was safe.

“Why do you think the giant superhero turns green when mad?” asked Bailey.

Deke felt his brows draw together. “What?”

“I don’t get it,” she said. “People get red when angry. Why would he turn green?”

Deke didn’t even want to know why her thought processes had led her there. So instead of answering her question, he asked his own, “What time does your shift finish at the rec center?”

Shuddering as the cool breeze brushed over them, Bailey looked at him askance. “Why?”

“Because I want to know.”

“Why?”

“Because it’ll affect what I have in mind for later.”

“Which is what?”

He turned to fully face her. “We hit the diner together.”

She blinked. “Huh?”

“Did I stutter?”

She simply stared up at him.

Yeah, okay, so they rarely ate together, let alone spend time together in public just the two of them. But it was no big deal, so she could stop looking at him like he’d suggested they take a trip to the moon.

“You eat out with your girls sometimes,” he said. “What’s the difference?”

“You’re not one of them, for starters.”

“Neither are Blair, Elle, or Bree. You’ve met up with them at the diner on occasions.”

“But they enjoy my company. You don’t.”

He felt his brow pinch. “What makes you think that?”

“You used to threaten to choke and throw stuff at me. That sort of clued me in.”

“Yeah, used to.” Deke fisted her tee and hauled her close. “Though some would say it flies in the face of reason, I like having you around.”

She leaned back slightly, eyeing him suspiciously. “You do?”

“Yeah. So. Diner. Six-thirty.” He gave her a hard kiss. “Be there.”

Still looking a little dubious, she said, “All right.”

“You bastard!”

Deke’s head whipped to the side. A short, dark-skinned woman was bearing down on them, her face flushed, anger in every step. He frowned. “Excuse me?”

She stopped in front of him, gave Bailey a thorough once-over, and then sliced her fury-filled gaze back to him. “I knew you were hiding something. And yeah, I entertained the idea that it could be a girlfriend. But I’d tell myself there was no way you’d ever do that to me.” A bitter, self-depreciating smile pulled at her lips. “Huh. Turned out I was wrong.”

Deke’s gut stirred as suspicion pricked at his nape. Feeling his jaw tighten, he exchanged a look with Bailey, whose expression told him they were having the same thought.

The woman—human, he scented—threw up her arms. “Why did you even ask me to come here if you knew there was a chance I’d catch you with her? Or was that the point? You want to hurt me? Was this all a big game to you?”

Deke slanted his head. “And you are …?” Not the most tactful way to handle the moment, no, but diplomacy really wasn’t his strong point.

Her dark eyes went wide. “You asshole!” She shifted her attention back to Bailey and honed in on her hand. “No ring. Not a fiancée or wife, then, at least. He never told me about you, so I’m guessing he never told you about me.”

Bailey scraped her teeth over her lower lip. “How about you tell me?”

The human perched a hand on her hip. “I’m Journee, the woman he’s been exchanging ‘I love yous’ with for the past three months.”

Shit. Deke blew out an annoyed breath.

“Online?” Bailey prodded.

“And over the phone,” Journee clipped, batting at the corkscrew curls that slapped her face as the breeze picked up. “We met on Zing.”

“Ah.” Bailey sighed at him. “We should have thought to check other platforms.”

“I don’t have profiles on other platforms for anyone to clone,” he pointed out.

“Doesn’t mean he couldn’t use all your info to create one in your name.” Bailey turned back to Journee. “Zing’s a dating website, right?”

“Ask him,” the human sassed. “He knows all about it.”

Bailey rubbed at the side of her neck. “Yeah, the thing he is … he actually doesn’t.”

Journee’s face scrunched up. “What?”

“We should go somewhere and talk,” Deke suggested.

The human’s spine snapped straight. “If you’ve got something you want to say, say it here and now so I can go home and forget I ever came across your profile.”

Fine. “I’m not the person you’ve been talking to. You were catfished, as they say.”

Her smile was all mockery. “Yeah. Right.” She looked at Bailey. “Don’t buy this pack of bullshit. He just doesn’t want you to know he’s been talking to another woman while with you.”

“He’s telling the truth,” said Bailey, her expression unusually somber. “Someone else came here recently claiming they were having an online relationship with Deke on NetherVille. We don’t know who cloned his profile on there, but I’m betting it’s the same person who’s been talking to you.”

Journee glanced from him to Bailey, her eyes narrowing.

“Seriously,” Deke told her. “It wasn’t me.”

Journee’s hand slid from her hip. “It has to be you, I—”

“You said I asked you to come here?” he double-checked.

She nodded. “Yes. You told me where you live. You asked me to come visit you this morning. Said to be here at eight, so here I am.”

“And does it make sense to you that I would do that? That I would invite you here when I obviously already have a woman in my life?”

Her mouth bobbed open and shut. “I don’t …”

“Surely I’d have asked you to meet me somewhere else. Somewhere there was no chance of you and Bailey running into each other.” He paused, giving her a moment to fully consider it. “Why would I take that risk?”

Journee crossed her arms. “I have no idea. It turns out I don’t know you as well as I thought I did.” But there wasn’t as much snark in her voice now. She didn’t yet fully believe him, but the seed of doubt was firmly planted.

“The truth is, you don’t know me at all, because we didn’t once exchange a single message,” he upheld.

She fished her cell out of her purse. “I’m going to call you. I want to see if your phone rings.”

He waited in silence as she dialed. His shifter hearing easily picked up the rhythmic ringing. He pulled out his own cell and then held it up so she could clearly see that her phone was not whatsoever trying to connect with his own.

She swiped her thumb over the screen of her cell, eyeing him uncertainly. “You could have a second phone.”

“But I don’t. Have you spoken to who you believe is me on the phone?”

“Many times.”

“And does my voice sound the same?”

She licked her lips, hesitating. “You could have faked it.”

That was a “no.” “But why would I? What would be the point, if I planned to meet you one day?”

Averting her gaze, she stuffed her hands in her coat pockets.

Bailey cut in, “You’ve been in contact with someone pretending to be Deke. Someone who sent you here knowing that what you’d discover would hurt you.”

Journee swallowed. “This is for real?”

“Unfortunately, yes, it is,” Bailey replied. “And it would really help if you could answer some questions for us. We want to find this guy and deal with him.”

After long moments, the human finally nodded. “All right.”