The Mane Event

  He pushed through the swinging door, and the next thing Ronnie knew, he had her facedown over his kitchen counter.

  A bloody lip, sore jaw, and a couple of bruised ribs. Seemed a small price to pay to have Ronnie Lee Reed bent over the island in the middle of his kitchen.

  She still had her claws out and insisted on putting up a hell of a fight. Grinning, Brendon pushed his knee between her legs, forcing them apart and raising her a bit so she couldn’t get a clear shot at his nuts—again. He laid one hand flat against her back, keeping her pinned to the spot.

  His free hand rubbed his throbbing jaw. “You’ve gotta hell of a right cross, sexy.”

  “Thank ya kindly.”

  “You were kind of rough on me, weren’t ya?”

  She laughed even as her claws dug into the marble countertop, trying to pull herself out from under his hand. “Are you kidding? You had every one of those hits coming.”

  “You’re right. I was a total asshole to you.” Brendon moved his hand so he could stretch out over her, resting against her back. She tensed beneath him.

  “I’m sorry, Ronnie,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m sorry I was an asshole.”

  She held herself rigid for several long moments and he waited for her to start swinging.

  Instead she let out a breath and turned her head to look at him. “Don’t do it again.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Cause next time I won’t be so nice.”

  He flinched, wondering what her “mean” must be like. Then Brendon decided he didn’t want to know and he hoped he never stupidly found out.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Do.”

  He nuzzled her chin. “So you forgive me?”

  “If I must.”

  “You must.” He kissed her forehead, her cheek. “I like having you around, Ronnie. I don’t want you mad at me.”

  “Then don’t piss me off,” she said with a smile.

  “I promise to try really hard to keep the pissing off to a minimum.”

  She snorted. “At least you’re realistic.”

  “I like doable goals.”

  She pushed back against him, her ass rubbing against his hard cock. “You still have that condom we were going to use if we made it to the Guggenheim?”

  “As a matter of fact…” Brendon dug into his back pocket and slapped the condom down on the counter.

  Ronnie reached one hand back and gripped his cock through his jeans. “I say we find out how sturdy this fancy counter is.”

  Brendon pulled her hand away before she made him come in his pants. The female had wicked fingers. Grabbing both her hands, he slapped them on the counter and held them down with his own.

  “All the way over, Ronnie.”

  She looked back at him and nipped his chin. “I will, but you better make it worth my while.”

  Ronnie bent forward, resting her cheek against the cool marble counter. Shaw released her hands and ran his fingers up her arms, over her shoulders, and across her back.

  “Keep your hands on the counter,” he ordered while reaching around her waist and undoing her cutoff shorts. The ragged denim dropped to the floor, and he groaned while his hands palmed her bare ass.

  “No underwear? You’re a horny little thing, aren’t you, Ronnie Lee?”

  “Never been a big fan of wasting time. Besides. You’re a ripper. Girl could lose her best underwear with a guy like you ripping them off all the time.”

  Shaw ran his hands over her ass, and her back arched. The man had the best hands. Rough and insistent most of the time, but he knew how to back off when she wanted him to.

  “Good point,” he muttered, and she heard him unzip his jeans. His cock came out so fast, she knew he hadn’t bothered to drop his pants. The condom wrapper crinkled and then his knee pushed her legs farther apart.

  Ronnie braced herself for it, knowing the first time with Shaw always had enough edge of pain to make it interesting. Two big fingers slid between her legs, and she gasped as they pushed inside her pussy.

  “Christ, Ronnie. You’re already so wet.” She didn’t respond, only grunted while his fingers pulled out and shoved back in. “And hot,” he whispered against her hair. “So goddamn hot.”

  She pushed back against his hand, loving the way his body tensed when she made it clear what she wanted.

  His hand suddenly withdrew and Ronnie whimpered, feeling the loss until his cock replaced those fingers and Shaw’s hips slammed her forward, thrusting into her in one long, hard stroke.

  Flush against her back, his cock seated firmly inside her, Shaw rested against her, the two of them panting into his marble counter. Hands resting on top of hers, his fingers scratching the skin.

  He waited and she didn’t know why. She didn’t want him to wait. She wanted him moving.

  Ronnie leaned her head back, rubbing against his cheek, her nose nuzzling his chin. Then she nipped his jaw, hard, and Shaw bared his fangs, snapping at her.

  His left hand slid into her hair, pulling her head back and leaving her neck exposed while his body rocked into hers. Closing her eyes, Ronnie let the feel of his cock forcing its way into her over and over again take her where she wanted to be. Lost among the sensations only Shaw seemed able to give her. His face buried against her neck, harsh breaths panting across her flesh as he rode her hard. His fingers only releasing her hair long enough to get another good grip and hold her tighter.

  Letting her instincts take over, Ronnie risked losing some hair to lean back a bit and snap at Shaw again. She didn’t even realize she had her fangs out until they grazed her lip.

  With a short, powerful roar Shaw pushed her farther forward and pulled her head to the side, gripping her shoulder with his teeth. A typical predator move to keep a dangerous lover from causing permanent, life-ending damage.

  But Ronnie winced when she felt Shaw’s fangs dig past her T-shirt and into her skin. Her eyes snapped open when she realized, too late, what he was doing.

  “Wait—”

  He either didn’t hear her or didn’t care because those fangs tore through flesh and muscle, sinking deep into her shoulder and holding her steady as he fucked her brutally hard and with absolutely no mercy.

  Her heart soared while her stomach dropped, and Ronnie barked, trying to get loose. Shaw dug in deeper, a short warning growl making it clear he wouldn’t let her go. The She-wolf inside her stopped fighting, smart enough to know its mate even if Ronnie wasn’t.

  Shaw’s free hand slid between her legs and held steady, letting his thrusts push her clit into his fingers. Even as she fought it, even as she tried not to let it happen because she knew it would be the final nail in her coffin, the orgasm ripped through her system with a vengeance.

  Screaming, Ronnie exploded. Her claws tore into the marble counter leaving deep gouges, and her body shook from the strength of her climax.

  Shaw finally unclamped from her shoulder and roared out his orgasm. His entire body shuddered behind her and his grip tightened around her body.

  Slumped over the counter, the two of them panted and didn’t speak.

  Ronnie didn’t know what to say. What did you say to a man who just made you his for eternity?

  Especially when she had the distinct feeling the big-haired idiot hadn’t even realized it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Only the sounds of their harsh breaths filled the large kitchen. Brendon still rested against her and he could feel her body shake beneath his with every rough pant.

  She’s mine.

  That one thought kept ringing through his head. Over and over.

  she’s mine.

  She’d always be his. Just as he would always be hers.

  Brendon’s lips curved into a smile and he hugged her close. She’s mine.

  “Get off me, Brendon.”

  Whoa. That didn’t sound good. Especially when she used his first name. She never called him by his first name. And she’d never sounded that cold before. Not
ever.

  “Now. Get off me now.”

  Slowly, Brendon stood straight, gently pulling out of her. He stepped back, quickly disposing of the condom and tucking himself back into his jeans.

  Ronnie pushed away from the counter and reached down to grab her shorts. He watched her silently pull the denim on, tug her shirt back into place, turn, and head out of his kitchen. The entire time she never said a word and she never looked at him.

  He followed her as she walked to his front door, opened it, and walked to his elevator. She pressed the call button and the doors immediately opened. She stepped inside, pushed a button, and finally looked up at him.

  Confused and a little panicked, he demanded, “Where are you going? You promised you’d tell me if you were going to be gone for a while.”

  “You’re right. I did.” She gave a casual shrug. “Europe.”

  Refusing to believe he heard her correctly, “What?”

  “Europe. I’m going to Europe. See ya.”

  Then the doors slammed shut in his face.

  Ronnie walked out into the main lobby, her eyes focused on the floor. She needed to go. She needed to run. She needed to do something but stay here and face this. She couldn’t face this.

  She pushed open the front door of the hotel and stepped outside. After walking past the doormen who helped new arrivals, she stood on the corner. It could have been minutes she stood there or hours, she didn’t know.

  “You may wanna put on some shoes.”

  Ronnie looked down at her big feet and realized that not only did she not have on shoes, she still only had on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. No wonder she felt cold.

  She looked up into the handsome face of Mitch Shaw.

  Concerned, he asked, “Sweetie, are you okay?”

  “I’m leaving. Before I get trapped any more than I am, I’m leaving,” she spewed out.

  “Leaving? Now? You sure that’s a good idea?”

  “I always leave.” She headed down the street.

  “But why? You and Bren—”

  “No. No.” She stopped and spun on him, slamming her hands against his chest like she’d done to his sister. Unlike his sister, however, Mitch didn’t move. Not even a flinch. “Me and ‘Bren’ nothing. I’m going before I start driving a minivan and worrying about the school system.”

  “You can’t just leave him.”

  “Well, Lord knows I can’t stay!” She knew she sounded hysterical. People on Manhattan streets were actually staring at her. Took a lot to get their attention.

  Shaking her head, embarrassed, Ronnie walked off, Mitch right behind her.

  “Why are you following me?”

  “I’m walking with you. I was leaving anyway.”

  Ronnie stopped again and turned, Mitch walking right into her. If he hadn’t grabbed her, she would have hit the ground after bouncing off all those muscles.

  She immediately noted the duffel bag on his shoulder. “You’re leaving, too.”

  He looked slightly ashamed. “Yeah. Me and Marissa had this fight. She kind of stormed off and…I thought maybe if I—”

  “Ran away?”

  Gold eyes narrowed. “I don’t see you sticking around.”

  Without answering, Ronnie again turned and walked away. She didn’t want this conversation. She didn’t want to talk about this. She wanted to leave. She wanted to go far away. As far away as possible.

  “Ronnie, wait.” Mitch grabbed hold of her arm. “Please wait. I’m sorry.”

  “He loves you, Mitch. You can’t leave without telling him.”

  Mitch gave a low chuckle. “He loves you, too.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t hear this. I can’t—” She tried to pull out of his grasp, but Mitch wouldn’t let her go.

  “Let’s do this.” His free hand cupped her chin, his fingers smoothing along her cheek. She knew that move. He was trying to soothe her. Calm the yipping dog before she started barking at the neighbors again.

  “Let’s go back inside,” he offered, “and talk. I’ll buy you a hot chocolate. We won’t go anywhere until we talk. Okay?”

  She knew she should leave, but she didn’t want Mitch to go, too. That wouldn’t be fair to Shaw. “You’ll stay?”

  “If you stay.”

  She couldn’t let Mitch run off again. Shaw would lose his mind if his kid brother took off again. “Okay. For hot chocolate only.”

  Mitch grinned, looking so much like Shaw it made her heart ache. “Yeah. Although we may want to get you some shoes before you take off. Walking around New York in December with no shoes…probably not a good idea.”

  He steered her back to the hotel, leading her inside and to a small restaurant tucked away behind the more glitzy popular places. They sat down and a waiter glided over to take their drink orders. Once he glided away, Mitch frowned at her. “You look like you’re freezing.”

  “Freezing? Not really.” But her teeth chattered when she spoke.

  Giving a snort of annoyance, Mitch took his jacket off and reached over, placing it around Ronnie’s shoulders.

  “Tell me what happened, Ronnie.”

  She shrugged under his big heavy jacket, pulling it tighter around her. “Nothin’.”

  “Ronnie, he marked you. I can smell his scent all over you.”

  Placing her elbows on the table, Ronnie rested her face in her hands.

  “This isn’t what you wanted?”

  “It would have been nice if he asked.”

  “True. But would a wolf have asked? Or would he have just taken his life in his hands and hoped for the best?”

  Ronnie dropped her hands to the table, moving them when the waiter placed her enormous cup of hot chocolate in front of her. Giant imported marshmallow right on top.

  “Don’t you see, Mitch? I’m trapped now. I’ve gotta tell him where I’m going. When I’ll be back. If I’m arrested.”

  Mitch blinked and leaned back in his chair. “Um…are you arrested a lot, sweetie?”

  “In this country? Not really.”

  “That’s good to know. But wouldn’t you want someone to bail you out when you’re arrested?”

  “That’s what my Pack is for. And I don’t need to give them constant updates on my whereabouts.”

  “True, but now you’ve got Bren. Think of it like an extra pair of thermal underwear. Sometimes you’re in a situation when you really need two.”

  Ronnie started to sip her hot chocolate but stopped and put her cup back down. “Darlin’, that is one of the dumbest analogies I’ve heard in a long time.”

  He shrugged. “Cut me some slack. I’m winging it here.” Mitch’s face turned solemn. “Bottom line is, babe, you’ll break his heart if you leave him.”

  “Cats don’t mate for life.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “National Geographic and the Discovery Channel. The males come and go, jumping from Pride to Pride. And wolves don’t share anything but our food, but even that we tussle over.”

  “All of that’s absolutely true—for cats who live to be about twelve and reside in the Serengeti. Last I looked, this was New York and me and Bren have another fifty or sixty years to fill. I know Bren wants to spend it with you. And neither of us have any intention of spending the rest of our lives being traded around by a bunch of females who can barely stand us.”

  “He just wants me ’cause I stayed that night. They left and I stayed.”

  “That’s not why. He’s grateful to you for staying that night. He wants you ’cause you look fierce in those shorts.” Mitch grinned when she smiled. “And he loves you because you make him happy. I’ve never seen the big butthead smile so damn much.”

  “He makes me feel…” Ronnie stopped and looked back at the table.

  “What, Ronnie? He makes you feel what?”

  “It’s what he doesn’t make me feel that’s the problem.”

  “Which is?”

  She took a deep breath. “Restless. I never feel like I have to
leave when I’m with him. I never wake up in the morning with one foot already out of the bed.”

  “And that’s a problem because…”

  “Because I always leave. Now I only want to stay, and it’s freakin’ me the hell out.”

  “You’re freaking out because you know your life is changing for good. If you weren’t freaking out, I’d be worried.” He took a long sip of his hot chocolate. “How about I make you a deal?” Mitch suggested softly.

  “What deal?”

  “You stay…and I’ll stay. At least for a little while.”

  “I shouldn’t care whether you go or stay. I shouldn’t care how it affects him at all.”

  “But you do care, Ronnie. And that’s okay.”

  “Fine.” Ronnie pushed her cup aside. “I’ll stay.”

  “Good. Now let’s go find him before he tears the friggin’ hotel apart looking for you.”

  He’d checked her room. The front lobby. Even a couple of the restaurants. She’d disappeared.

  Hell. What she’d done was left him.

  Now he had to stand here dealing with Sissy Mae Smith. A lesser man would have killed her by now.

  “Let’s think…where could she have gone? Did she take her passport?”

  “I have no idea,” he replied.

  “No idea.”

  That’s what annoyed him. She kept repeating everything he said back to him.

  “Did she give you a hint of where she might go?”

  “She said Europe.”

  She tapped her fingers against the solid oak of the front desk. “Europe.”

  Brendon dropped his elbows on the desk and buried his face in his hands.

  “Now, now, darlin’. No use crying. We’ll find her eventually.”

  “I’m not crying. I’m trying to stop myself from ripping out your vocal cords.”

  Surprisingly, she laughed. “My Lord, Brendon Shaw. You are just the cutest little thing when you’re upset.”

  When she pinched his cheek, all he could do was laugh.

  Sissy Mae glanced over his shoulder. “And look. There she is.”

  Brendon turned around. The relief hit him first, quickly followed by blinding jealousy when he saw his brother walking with her. She even had on the treacherous bastard’s leather jacket. Mitch had never let anyone else ever wear that jacket—until now.