Secrets at Midnight (7 page)

Kirby stood her ground, recognizing the predator in him, but dead certain he would never hurt her. That certainty held even when he placed his hands on her hips, his claws slicing out to lie against the fabric of her coat.

“You're not a freak. You're Kirby.” His tone dared her to disagree.

Skin uncomfortably aflame all at once, she dropped her hands to the belt of her coat and undid it, shrugging off the thick fabric to throw it aside. Bastien's hands went right back to where they'd been, strong and dangerous over denim and cotton.

“Sexy, smart, beautiful Kirby.” It was a purr of sound.

And then he kissed her.

One hand unraveling her ponytail, the other sliding under her shirt to lie on the curve of her waist, his skin rougher than her own, and his mouth enslaving hers.

She felt his claws, but he didn't so much as scratch her as he tasted her like she was his favorite dessert. With tiny bites and long, slow licks that demanded she join in. When she did, stroking her tongue against his, he purred, the vibration shivering through her entire body to make her wonder what it would be like if they were both naked.

“Bastien.” Her nipples tight little points, she gripped his shoulders, exquisitely aware of him shifting one big hand to
her butt to help her attain the right angle to rub against the rigid temptation of his cock, her claws kneading his—

Shoving away with a tiny scream, she stared at her hands. “Oh God.” The claws retracted almost before she was sure she'd seen them. “I—”

Bastien put his hands on either side of Kirby's body, once more trapping her against the counter and keeping her within touching distance. “Yes,” he said. “You just semi-shifted.” And, because he hated to see her so lost, so scared, he nipped her ear again. Hard enough to sting.

“Argh!” Gripping his hair, she tugged his face down to her own. “Stop that or I will
really
bite you.”

There she was, his tough Kirby who'd built a life for herself through sheer grit and determination. “Promise?” His cat batted playfully at her, wanting out of Bastien's human skin so she could play with him in reality.
Soon
, he promised the leopard.

“You're—” Releasing him after a hard, infuriated kiss that made his chest rumble in another purr, she said, “I think I better take leave from work until this is all sorted out.”

Bastien nodded.

“I'm so new I'll lose my job if I don't go back within a week.” Her temper faded into a sadness that had him wrapping his arms around her. “I really liked this job.”

Protective as he was, Bastien wanted to fix everything for her, but he knew Kirby wouldn't thank him for it. “My sister tells me that's the top kindergarten in the city.” Mercy's mate had apparently already begun to scope things out, even though it would be six months yet before their babies were even born. “They wouldn't have hired you if you weren't the best—you'll find another position when you're ready.”

A small nod against his chest. “My rent's paid up for the next two weeks at least.”

That statement, Bastien couldn't let pass, because as Kirby needed to have pride in her work, he needed to care for her. Shifting so he could look at her face, he said, “You don't ever have to worry about a place to live.” He'd hidden his intentions at the start so as not to rush her, but after hearing of what she'd gone through as a child, he wanted her to know she was
wanted, adored.
“Right now, we need to go to the
aerie.” The natural surroundings would put her animal more at ease.

Small white teeth sank down into her lower lip. “I hardly know you,” she whispered, but made no move to pull away, instead petting his chest with small, absent strokes, as if to soften the impact of her words.

“Some people”—he closed his hand over hers—“we know in a heartbeat.” Leopard and man both looked into the unusual hazel of her eyes and saw their future. “Others, we'll never know, even if we speak to them for a thousand years.”

Blinking rapidly, Kirby buried herself against his chest. “I'm so scared, Bastien.” Her voice trembled.

“I'm with you every step of the way, little cat.” He held her close, the side of his face pressed against the softness of her hair. “We'll do this together.”

C
hest tight, Kirby made the records request on their way to her apartment to pick up what she'd need for a few days at the aerie. When Bastien reached across to run his knuckles over her cheek, she leaned into the touch, so painfully happy that he was in her life.

Some people, we know in a heartbeat.

He was right, and despite her fear at the violent depth of their fledgling connection, at how much it would hurt if he changed his mind and rejected her, she wasn't going to back away. Bastien was too important, too wonderful, and she wanted him to be hers, only hers, the possessive thoughts at once shy and wild.

When he suggested they stop at the fresh goods market on their way out of the city, she gladly fell in with the idea. “I think doing something mundane will be good right about now.”

Forty-five minutes and a quick snack at the attached café later, the wicked cat next to her was coaxing her into surrendering to the lure of a slice of organic carrot cake with cream-cheese icing, when she heard, “Bas!”

Startled, she looked up from the tempting display to see a man with rich brown hair and hazel eyes darker than her own prowling toward them. Despite the difference in coloring, the Smith familial stamp was unmistakable.

“Sage.” Bastien scowled. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Mom messaged, asked if I could grab a few things for
her, drop them off on the way home.” Sage's words may have been for Bastien, but his eyes never moved off Kirby. “I'm the good-looking brother,” he said with a smile so charming, it was adorable. “Sage.”

Kirby liked him at once, comfortable in a way she rarely was with strangers . . . but of course, he was Bastien's brother, and she trusted Bastien down to the bone. “Kirby.”

“Cake, huh?” Sage rubbed his jaw, blew out a breath. “I'd go for the double chocolate with vanilla frosting myself.”

Throwing an arm around her shoulders, Bastien said, “Stop flirting, you're terrible at it,” to his brother, but she could tell it was only pretend, the two men obviously friends as well as family.

•   •   •

FIFTEEN
minutes after they'd run into Sage, Bastien closed the fresh groceries in the trunk of the car and pointed a finger at his brother. “Don't tell Mercy, Herb.”

Sage rocked back on his heels, a glint in his eye. “Worried she'll scare away your girl,
Frenchie
?”

“I don't think Kirby's the scaring-away type, are you, little cat?” Proud of the woman who was his own, he cupped her cheek, ran his thumb over her lower lip.

Coloring, she nonetheless pressed a kiss to his palm. “If I was,” she pointed out, “all your growling would've done it already.”

Bastien saw Sage's eyes go leopard at that instant and knew his brother had realized exactly what was at stake. Not that he wouldn't tell Mercy and Grey anyway—but he wouldn't mention it beyond that tight circle. Not yet, not until Bastien was ready. He and his siblings might rag on one another, but they'd never mess with something so important.

Leaning close to Kirby, Sage whispered, “Ask him about the infamous kitten defurring episode.”

“Remind me to strangle you later.” Bastien opened the passenger door for Kirby, saw his brother's smirk turn into a grin when Kirby waved at him after getting into the car, her eyes sparkling.

“Frenchie, huh?” she said, once they were on their way again, the laughter in her tone welcome.

“I really need to strangle him. Surely, my folks wouldn't notice one less son.”

Shoulders shaking, Kirby turned in her seat to face him. “You're close.”

“Yep, all four of us are pretty tight-knit.” Every one of his memories of childhood included one or the other of his siblings. “Not that we didn't fight like feral wolves sometimes,” he told her. “In one notorious incident, Grey, who was only a tiny cub at the time, got mad at Sage and clamped his teeth on the tip of Sage's tail.”

Kirby's smile lit up her whole face. “What happened?”

Wanting to kiss her breathless, he said, “Stubborn bastard refused to let go, despite Mercy and me trying our hardest.” The memory made his leopard huff with laughter. “When Sage tried to shake him off, he just dug his claws into the earth and growled in the back of his throat. We finally had to admit defeat and call in the Power of Mom.”

Kirby's laughter filled the car. “Tell me more.”

He went to do just that when his phone rang. “Sorry. Probably work.”

To his relief, Kirby didn't seem to mind the fact that he had to be in contact with the office for most of the trip, her eyes on the scenery. Still, he didn't like her so quiet, her fingers twined to strained whiteness around one another.

“What music do you like?” he asked between calls.

“Cheery, chirpy pop.”

Wincing, he pulled up a station that delivered exactly that. “You owe me.”

“Come on”—she turned in her seat to face him once more—“it's not that bad.”

“I'm sorry? I can't hear you past the sugar blocking my eardrums.”

She mock punched him and his leopard purred. He wanted to luxuriate in her touch, wanted to demand the most intimate, most private skin privileges, but while he delighted in skin-to-skin contact with her, he wouldn't push her to consummate their relationship. If he woke to see regret in Kirby's eyes, it would fucking break him. No, when they took that step, he needed his mate with him all the way, confident and passionate and demanding in her own right.

“It's not a long walk from here,” he said some time later, parking in a nominated area within the pack's forested territory. “We have to be careful of the natural vegetation.”

Having been twisting her neck to look every which way as they drove in, Kirby stepped out to spin around happily on the spongy carpet created of fallen leaves and pine needles. “I want to explore everything!”

Her unhidden delight eased any concern he might've had about her being comfortable in the rich green wilderness that sang to his changeling soul. Slinging the duffel with her stuff over his shoulder, he clasped her hand in his, eager to have her in his home. “I'll run back for the groceries.” He couldn't wait to show her all his favorite spots in the forest, his leopard as excited as a cub.

When a lynx with thick golden-brown fur wandered over just as they were about to reach the aerie, Kirby froze on a wondering gasp. “Is that . . .”

“Not a changeling.” Crouching down, he ran his hand over the creature's back, its tufted ears standing straight up. “But, he's a friend of mine.”

Kirby came down beside him, one of her hands braced on his thigh in the sweetest torture. “Will he allow me to pet him?” Wistful need.

“Here.” Taking hold of her hand after she settled on her knees, he held it out to the lynx's nose. “Don't feel bad if he decides against you,” Bastien said, wanting her to enjoy her first brush with the area's natural wildlife. “The damn beast took six months to deign me acceptable.”

Except the lynx took one sniff at Kirby and jumped up to place his front paws on her thighs. “Bastien, oh, he's beautiful.” Face suffused with joy, Kirby began to stroke the cat.

Bastien considered the intriguing tableau. Regardless of species, none of the wild creatures were this friendly to anyone outside the pack. Of course, Kirby had such neat little claws . . . yeah, they could've been of a lynx.

Settling with his back against a tree, legs out in front of him, he watched her pet the utterly lazy, spoilt creature now sprawled in her lap. That lynx was going to follow her around every time she was in the area, he thought with an
affectionate grin for his wild counterpart. Bastien would likely find it on the branches outside their aerie, waiting for her.

Well done, cat,
he thought a little ruefully, his own leopard yet deprived of her touch.

•   •   •

KIRBY
and Bastien finally reached their destination a half hour from that meeting, the lynx having left them ten minutes earlier with an affectionate brush of his body against Kirby's legs. Now, Kirby watched Bastien climb up to the aerie hidden in the arms of a massive tree, one so big, she couldn't take it all in.

This world intoxicated her with its magnificence, the way Bastien moved in it, his muscles fluid, a primal song. He'd climbed the tree using his claws, yet had left only faint marks on the trunk that would soon close over, not a single gouge to be seen. Just one more sign that he wasn't an intruder here, but an accepted part of this incredible ecosystem, one who respected the land that nurtured him.

“Rope ladder coming down!” he called out after disappearing behind the leaves with her duffel.

“Thank—” She screamed as Bastien jumped from his high perch . . . to land with the pouncing grace of the cat he was, his powerful body ending up in a crouch.

“Sorry if I scared you.” A sheepish look. “I forget it looks dangerous.”

“No.” Kirby waved the hand she'd thrown out in a futile attempt to stop him. “I'm used to changelings jumping out of trees,” she said through her still-thumping heart. “Most of them are five years old, and the trees are only a hundred times shorter than this one, but same principle.” In truth, he'd been magnificent, a fact she could appreciate now that she wasn't swamped in terror.

His smile creased his cheeks, his green eyes backlit with an untamed glow. “A smartass. I like it.” Tugging at her so she fell against his chest, he ran his hands boldly down to her butt, squeezed. “I like this ass even better. Makes me want to bite.”

Kirby's entire body went molten, but she wasn't about to let him get away with teasing her so outrageously without
repercussions. Hauling him close with one hand on his nape, the other in his hair, she claimed a hot, tangled kiss from this man who made her forget she wasn't experienced, her actions driven by naked instinct. A second later, she was backed up against the nearest tree trunk, his hands petting and molding her flesh as their mouths engaged in erotic battle.

Moaning, she returned kiss for kiss, touch for touch, delectably conscious of the hard push of his arousal against her abdomen. He was so big, so strong, his touch a drug to her senses. Gasping a breath between kisses, she returned to their private war, hooking her legs around his waist when he hitched her up.

A snarl, his mouth tearing away from her own, though there was no danger that she could see, no reason to stop. The lightning heat of his glare had her narrowing her eyes, her fingertips prickling. “What?”

“What?
What
?” He closed one clawed hand very carefully around her throat. “I'm trying to be a good guy by not seducing you when you've had one hell of a shock, and what do you do but kiss me all sexy and aroused and wet.” Growled-out words. “How the hell am I supposed to keep from devouring you?”

Kirby wanted to pounce on him for that blunt declaration. “I don't feel vulnerable or taken advantage of,” she assured him, petting his beautiful chest through his T-shirt.

His snarl rumbled against her breasts.

“In fact,” she murmured, looking at him through half-lowered lashes, “why don't
I
take advantage of you?” The idea of having his naked body as her personal playground made her breath catch—surely she'd figure things out as she went along, especially since she had a partner who made no bones about wanting her.

“I'll be gentle.” She didn't know where this sexual confidence was coming from, but it felt so, so good to play with Bastien. “Promise.” Kissing his throat, she ran her hands over his shoulders.

Mine.
It was a feral thought, should've scared her. It didn't. No, it made her want to purr as Bastien had begun to do.

Having already learned it was his weak spot, she
continued to kiss his throat, the taste of him her own personal aphrodisiac.

This is how he should react to me
, said the awakening wildness within her, possessive and sensual and with no time for the rules of civilized behavior.
This is how it should be between us.

“Grr.” Pulling her mouth from his throat, Bastien snapped his teeth at her, making her jump . . . before her nipples went achingly tight, her body honey slick in welcome.

Bastien's nostrils flared.
“No
.
”

“No?” Muscles clenching around an emptiness she knew only he could fill, Kirby poked him in the chest. “Don't you try to tell me you know best.”

He leaned in with his hands braced on the trunk on either side of her head, stubborn male will and feline temper. “When you're bruised and hurt inside, I damn well will.”

She bared her own teeth at him. “Who made that rule?”

“I did.” A nip of her kiss-swollen lower lip.

She growled low in her throat, wanting to claw him. Not to hurt. Never to hurt. Just so he'd know she wasn't helpless, was a worthy playmate.