Beneath the Skin: de La Vega Cats, Book 3

  “Go on home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Her grandmother stalked right up and put her hands on her hips. “I am not sorry these other cats know what an impressive woman you are.”

  She held back a smile, nodding. “Grandma, I love you. I understand why you did it. But that was what happened to me. It was my story to tell. Or not.”

  “I never want you to feel guilty for anyone else’s crimes. I know what it is to feel that sort of estrangement. You don’t deserve that. To be alone and misunderstood. I won’t have it.”

  She was going to make Mia cry, damn it.

  Mia hugged her grandmother before Lettie went back to the car where her father waited.

  Gibson approached moments later. “Everything all right?”

  She took a deep breath. “Yeah. It’s fine.”

  “Good. I think you should come over to my place.”

  She allowed that smile at last. “Yeah? Are you going to sully me?”

  “At least twice and I don’t want to do it in your brother’s bed.”

  She laughed and let him open her door. “Let’s go, then.”

  She liked to watch the city roll by out her window as he drove. He was a man of few words. There was quiet between them, but it wasn’t strained. She didn’t feel the need to fill it with chatter, or to feel as if he didn’t care. He just didn’t speak unless it was very important.

  And it gave her a chance to think about what her father had said. Because Gibson had shielded her. He’d stroked a hand up and down her back when she’d been alarmed. He’d sat with her, arm around her shoulder as she poured out the horror of that day back in Los Angeles. It was…well, she…it made her a little tingly.

  He was big and bad and totally in charge, but he didn’t take over. That was a plus. And he was an adult, which meant, contrary to what her father said, he could have this thing with her and not imprint or be bossy or whatever. Neither of them were strangers to having a relationship, though she got the feeling his long-term relationships were all with his family and not romantic ones. But there was no reason for it to be anything more than some great times in bed and getting to know each other.

  She turned her head to look at him. His face intent as he drove. In profile he was even more impressive than straight on. His features were so strong, so handsome and slightly feral. There was no mistaking that this was one hundred percent male. He wore a tie and his hair back, and he looked damned fine. But you could shine up the outside and it did not change the fact that he was a brawler. A predator who would bust heads to protect his own.

  It made her smile.

  He hit the garage door opener, and out of the dark, two cats seemed to melt into existence. His place was well guarded, she knew. The cats averted their eyes when he got out, and she waited for him to open her side. He spoke to them briefly, and they melted into the darkness again as he’d made his way to her door.

  He’d been so sweet to her that evening, and she knew it made him happy to do things like open her door and pull out her chair so she let him. Usually.

  He smiled as she took his hand and got down. It was not as easy in four-and-a-half-inch heels as it was in her sneakers or boots, and the damned SUV was so high up she needed his help to get down anyway. But then he grabbed her around her waist and she slid down his body until her mouth was at his, staying her to take a kiss. He took a slow, meandering taste of her as he backed her against the car.

  All she could do was sigh and hold on as his mouth was on hers. He kissed with the same intensity he did everything else. A nip of her lip, a quick flutter of his tongue against hers, he used his lips, teeth and tongue to render her witless and full of his taste.

  When he finally eased her to her feet, she had to gulp in some air before she could put her thoughts and muscles together enough to walk with him into his house.

  His house had been a surprise the first time she’d been there the night she’d been shot and had cleaned the glass from his shoulder. It was masculine with clean lines—that wasn’t so unusual. That fit him quite well. But the reading nook he’d built into the bay window in his bedroom had been an unexpected delight. Books were everywhere, shelves lined his walls. Big, overstuffed chairs presented lots of opportunities to sit and read the day away. Though she figured he probably didn’t get as much of that kind of time as he’d like.

  There was a sense of home and comfort there he’d built and was proud of.

  “You should keep the shoes on.” He led her up the stairs toward his bedroom.

  “Should I?”

  “I have to tell you it’s a recurring fantasy of mine to fuck you while you’re in heels. Well since I saw you in them and now I can’t stop thinking of it. It’s been in my head all night long.”

  She tossed her bag on the small bench at the foot of his rather ridiculously large bed. “I think I can be about some wish fulfillment.” She undid her hair, which she’d had up in a loose bun and then unbuttoned the front of her blouse.

  He stepped close and bent his head to her chest, his lips brushing over the swell of her right breast. “You smell damned good. Makes me hungry.” He licked over the skin and goose bumps rose. “You know how much I like to eat you up.”

  She swallowed, hard, still not used to how sexy he was when he said stuff like that. He was in charge of his sexuality. He told her what he liked, what he wanted and that was unbelievably hot. Especially when he didn’t say much outside the bedroom.

  “Not gonna argue.”

  He popped the catch on her bra and pushed it and her blouse from her body.

  He kissed her chest and over her scars. That gentle touch so intimate tears sprang to her eyes. He’d done it before, yes, but now he knew the details of the story and he hadn’t shrunk away. He hadn’t been repulsed.

  Big hands cupped her breasts and then his fingers went to work, pinching and tugging her nipples until she moaned and grabbed the waist of his pants, yanking to get them open.

  “You’re very demanding and impatient.” He kissed up her neck to her ear to that spot he knew drove her insane. And it did, making her knees buckle.

  He nipped the spot, bringing a hiss to her lips as she struggled to push him back to finish getting his pants open.

  “You promised to sully me. You’re the Bringer, you’re supposed to keep your word. Get your dick out!”

  He laughed, picking her up and tossing her on his bed. She watched every move as he took off his shirt and tie.

  “Your body makes me sort of dizzy.”

  He paused, his hands on his pants, slowly unzipping. “Says the topless woman in my bed.” He finished, stepping from his pants.

  “You have no underpants on!” She laughed and then unzipped her skirt. “Me either.”

  He jumped to the bed, so graceful and full of power it left her breathless.

  “You’re so dirty. God, I love that. How you could be so totally filthy and yet look so sweet on the outside, it undoes me.”

  Mia pressed her face to his neck, licking the salt of his skin. “Take your hair down. I love it down.”

  He reached back one-handed to undo his hair while the other tossed the now-discarded skirt to the side.

  He hadn’t lied, she totally undid him. Her skin, the way she moved, the way she was so open and greedy about sex, her fearlessness, all of it made her into the total package and it drove him to his knees.

  She made him laugh in bed. It had been years since that had happened.

  He grunted when she grabbed his cock while she licked up his neck. Half a foot shorter than he was and she held her own, writhing against him as he slid a palm down her belly to find her pussy wet and inferno hot. She rolled her hips and urged him on with a whispered more.

  But then she scissored her legs and maneuvered up, getting him on his back as she straddled his body.

  “Were you on the wrestling team, baby?”

  Her smile was a mystery as she dipped down to capture his mouth, as she held him close, tugging on
his dreads to get him where she wanted. Her taste was glory. Beauty and seduction. She nibbled his bottom lip.

  “I love your mouth. This lip here.” She licked over it as she scooted down a little. “So full and plump. Mmmm.” Down again as she kissed his throat and to each nipple. She licked and sucked, tugging on each ring until he growled at her for more. Again that smile of hers.

  She kissed over his belly. Over the de La Vega inked there, dipping her tongue into his navel, making him shiver a moment. She kissed his hip and the shallow, sensitive spot at the hollow of his hipbone. And then she grabbed his cock, angling it as she brought her gaze to his. “This.” She hummed her delight.

  Before he could say anything she licked across the head and around the crown before taking him into her mouth totally. She palmed his sac as she kept sucking, keeping it tight and very wet. Leaving her gaze on him.

  So. Fucking. Intimate. He wanted to look away. She got inside him and he wasn’t entirely comfortable with it. But his cat seemed to claw his guts at the very idea. His cat loved this boldness in a female, just as much as the man loved the hell out of his cock in her mouth.

  He held his control in check, not wanting to gag her. She pulled off and licked her lips. “Let go.”

  He shook his head. “I’m fine. Don’t stop!”

  She shook her head right back. “I can feel your muscles trembling. What is it you want? Hm?” As she said it, she slid her fingertips back to stroke over his asshole and he groaned.

  “Hadn’t thought of that.” He nearly panted.

  “Then what?”

  “I want to fuck your mouth.”

  “So why don’t you?”

  She sucked him into her mouth again and her fingertips found his asshole once more, this time slick with lube she’d gathered from her pussy.

  The air came from him like a punch. So fucking good he didn’t want to stop so he rolled his hips, and she adjusted herself to take him in easier as he widened his thighs to give her better access.

  He couldn’t have stopped unless she’d ordered him to. And she most assuredly did not as he continued to stroke into that sweet mouth. And when a finger breached that first ring of muscle, the burn made him pause until it spread into a heat that was far more pleasure than pain.

  She worked, mouth in concert with the questing, inexorable invasion of his ass, and when she found his sweet spot and began to rub it, he nearly lost his mind and blew down her throat right then.

  So good, it was a challenge to make it another three minutes until he came with a snarl of her name.

  He lay there, struggling to get his breath back as the reason for it snuggled up into his side. Naked except for those sexy fucking heels.

  “Don’t go anywhere, you’re next.”

  She smiled, her mouth against his skin.

  “Now that my lips and teeth aren’t numb, come a little closer.”

  She levered up, leaning on his chest, and he lazily slid his fingertips down the line of her spine. So feminine, even as she could shoot and punch and curse with the best of them.

  “Why don’t you climb aboard?” He sent her a raised brow.

  She blushed and he turned to his side to kiss her better. “Why you blushing? Hm? Not that I’m complaining, your scent when you blush gets lush and sexy.”

  “I haven’t done it that way.”

  “You’ve never had your pussy eaten while you sit on your man’s face?” He wasn’t much of a dirty talker, but she drove him to it. With her the limits seemed silly. With her it was all out there, whether he wanted it to be or not.

  She shook her head. “Nope.”

  “Mmm, well let’s go step by step. I know you know how to get on top.”

  She sat up, slinging a leg over his waist. She rubbed her pussy over his quickly reviving cock, and he sucked in a breath. “Stop that. I can’t concentrate.”

  She grinned. “Yeah?”

  He grabbed her hips to hold her still. “Yeah. So scoot up here.” He urged her, his hands still at her hips. “Hands on the headboard so you can keep your balance, and then put that sweet cunt over my mouth and I’ll do the rest.”

  She moved that last little bit as he caressed up her thighs, holding her open. The only sad thing was that he couldn’t see her face, but her taste was on his lips, against his tongue as the slickness of her pussy was all he wanted to know.

  Her muscles trembled and he thought about her thigh a moment. It had healed, but he didn’t want her to be in pain. But she made a sound, a low, desperate sound that told him her claws might come unsheathed if he didn’t get back to work right then.

  She’d never been so exposed. It wasn’t just that she…that he was there beneath her, his mouth on her. He’d done that before and she was more than pleased with his skills. It was that she was above him this way, that she found her fingers tightening on the headboard to keep from grabbing him by the hair and yanking him up to get more. She’d told him about her attack and he’d understood. He’d seen her cry. There seemed to be no way to hide from him. Not sexually and not emotionally. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

  He sucked her clit into his mouth over and over, slowly. His hands, so big and strong, were spread over the backs of her thighs, holding her legs apart as he nuzzled and licked her pussy until she thought she’d scream from how good it felt.

  She closed her eyes and let it go. Why be embarrassed by this when she’d had his cock in her mouth and her finger in his ass just minutes before? There was nowhere to hide when it came to sex between them, she realized and then accepted.

  Which was a good thing because she found herself unable to stop rolling her hips to stroke herself against his mouth. His answering growl echoed up her body, letting her know he was just fine with it, even more, he dug it. His whiskers—which she knew he used conditioner on to keep soft—brushed against her inner thighs and when he opened his mouth against her, his tongue sliding over every part of her pussy, she let her head drop forward as orgasm hit her so hard her entire body trembled from it.

  But he kept going. Even as she moved to sit back, he kept her there, driving her past that nearly painful oversensitivity and into another orgasm until at last he laid her back on the bed.

  She cracked an eye to find that smug smile on his lips. “How’d that go?”

  She laughed. “You aced the finals.”

  She really couldn’t believe she was jogging. She hated jogging. But her physical therapist had suggested it as another way to build endurance so she was doing it, and sweating like a pig shifter.

  That made her laugh, which was good because it meant she had enough breath not to pass out. She kept running, glad for all the paths around town so she could keep up some variety. She had an audiobook in her iPod but for right then she’d switched to Florence + the Machine. Each drumbeat kept her feet pounding the pavement. Her thigh had mostly healed and she thanked her shifter blood for that. But it had been slower going than it would have been before the attack.

  She picked up her pace and ignored the twinges. It was unacceptable that she not be back to one hundred percent. Unacceptable that those assholes who’d nearly killed her might limit her choices any more than they already had.

  Her shoes connected with the path, boom, boom, boom, like her heart. The rhythm lulling her.

  Up the trail she kept track of the people on bikes coming in the opposite direction and got over, not wanting to cause a crash. Boom, boom, boom. She kept running, but they kept edging into her space until she realized it wasn’t just drift, but purposeful.

  The cottony place she’d been in as she ran fell away. Her senses sharpened as she took everything all around her in. How fast they moved, the looks on their faces, the lack of others on the trail.

  And despite her training, despite the fact that she’d been under threat and was on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary, it was still unreal.

  Like an ugly dream as reality pulled away from her shores and she watched as
a weapon was pulled and aimed in her direction. She hit the ground and rolled to the right, toward a stand of bushes that would hopefully give her some cover.

  They tossed the bikes and headed toward her. She pulled her phone out and called Gibson and got out her location and that she was being attacked and was going to shift. She hung up and let her cat come over, let the anger and rage spill into her, speeding the full transformation until she bounded from the bushes and ran toward the two men with guns. Only they weren’t men, they were cats.

  Cats that weren’t nearly as brave and they tried to run. Her cat didn’t take too kindly to that, and she landed on one of them as he was in mid-shift. The other behind her shot but it missed her as she snarled and then hissed.

  She ripped at the one beneath her, her cat no longer afraid, but full-on pissed off.

  Someone was on her back. She twisted, her claws out, shredding the other cat until it shrieked and tried to get away. She grabbed it with her teeth, needing to kill before she ended up dead. Her cat remembering the helplessness of the last time. Remembering what it was to be nearly killed.

  Sadly for those two who tried to harm her.

  But human voices came down the trail. And then sirens. The woman inside insisted the cat move on and get out of sight. The cat reluctantly left her bleeding prey and bounded off toward home.

  Gibson saw it was her number and, smiling, he answered. But instead of her normal voice, she was upset. Tense. She spoke quickly and quietly. “Two men on bikes with weapons. They’re following me. I’m shifting.” She dropped the phone and he heard the sound of her cat’s scream. His own rushed to the surface, his hands fisting against phantom claws.

  He grabbed his keys, standing, though he’d been involved in a meeting. Several sets of eyes looked his way. “Mia is being attacked again. Dario, with me.”

  Dario took the wheel as Gibson watched out the window. He kept his phone to his ear but the call was dropped. But not before he heard the attack, the sound of teeth meeting flesh, and he hoped like hell it was her cat who was ripping those others apart.