A to Zane (4 page)

“What are you doing here?” Abby all but snapped.

Zane looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. “Hello to you too, baby.”

“That wasn’t a hello.”

“How about I say hello.” Derek smiled, motioning Zane to a seat.

Abby thought about killing the boys but wasn’t sure even her team could save her. Instead she turned her aggression on Zane.

Zane took the free chair next to her. She gasped when he pulled her chair closer to his and then dropped an arm along the back of her seat.

“Did you follow me? Are you turning into crazy stalker man?”

“Of course I followed you,” Zane said with a shrug. “I came to get you for lunch, but I saw you leaving with these two.” He nodded toward Derek and Calib.

“Just to be clear, I’m gay. So is my boyfriend,” Derek offered.

Abby decided that even if her team couldn’t help her, she was going to kill these two.

“I saw that, but thank you for the clarification.” Zane gave them a half smile.

“So what’s your interest in our little Abby?” Calib asked.

“I’m planning on getting her naked and ravishing her hot body.”

Zane’s words sent the red heat of embarrassment crashing over her face like a tidal wave.

“That is an excellent plan, my friend. And to assist in that stellar plan, I’m going to take my better half and leave you to grab yours. See you later, Abby.” Derek didn’t give her time to argue as he grabbed hold of Calib and practically sprinted for the exit.

“Your friends are not really subtle, are they?”

“Well at least they don’t stalk people.” Abby’s slow-burning temper was starting to fire.

“I told you I’d see you later.”

“That was two days ago.”

“Glad you noticed.”

“Oh you…I could…
Grrrr.
” Abby couldn’t speak she was so mad. He was such a giant irritant. She didn’t understand what he hoped to gain by playing silly games and telling her friends he wanted to get her into bed, which was clearly a lie.

Abby reached out and dug her nails into his thigh. His jeans took most of the force, but she didn’t care.

She heard him laugh softly before he reached over, brushed her hair away from her ear, and leaned in close.

“I like that you have claws, baby, but just remember, mine are bigger.” He ran his hand up her leg, allowing his claws to peek out. The feel of them running over the soft material of her trousers was more erotic than she cared to admit.

Abby snatched her hand away from his leg. “I hate you.”

“That’s what you say, but your body is saying something different.”

“No it’s not.” She kept her voice low.

“I see pearled nipples, I hear panting breath, and I smell…” He took a deep breath. “…your arousal. Your scent is so tasty.”

Abby gritted her teeth, visualizing all manner of painful ways to hurt Zane.

“I can see your brain ticking over, baby. Let me be clear here, I want you. I will have you. You might as well accept it now and enjoy the ride.”

*

Zane could see her mind working and waited.

Abby Short was a hot little firecracker. For two days, he’d had to listen to Jones and Rhea warn him how fragile and delicate Abby was.

“What she needs is a gentle, soft man to look after her. She doesn’t need some fly by night Romeo that’s going to come in, fuck her, and leave.”

Rhea’s words had bounced around his head, and at first he’d believed them. She was a shy little thing, always hiding behind her hair. But then he remembered the roundhouse kick she’d given that creep the night they’d met. A woman like that wasn’t delicate, nor was she fragile.

His tiger purred low at images of her naked, lying on his bed. Zane knew he’d spend hours just playing with her tits. Even now, when he could see her willing her body to stop reacting to his, they called to him.

Zane loved that she wasn’t some socially expected skinny woman. No, his Abby was a full-figured woman with curves. Real curves that required him to explore every single inch of them.

“Will you stop sniffing me, tiger man?”

Zane hadn’t even realized he’d leaned in to do just that. He sat back and smiled. “You smell all sorts of tasty.”

“I’m not a buffet,” she grumbled at him.

“No? Then how come I feel the need to taste a little of everything you have?”

Abby snorted and finally looked up at him. He could see anger in her eyes, but just behind it was a sadness that made his tiger growl, and he felt a need to fix whatever had caused the pain.

“You may ‘feel the need’, tiger man, but you’ll never get the chance.” Abby reached over and cupped her hand to his face.

It took all of his willpower not to nuzzle into it.

“Now be a good boy and stop following me. Because if you don’t, well let’s just say what my team is capable of, is only half of what I’ll do if you continue.”

Abby dropped her hand, stood, and walked away. She’d taken two steps before she turned and came back. Zane watched her with caution and lust.
Good Lord
, she was sexy when she threatened him.

“And stop trying to hack into my system. It’s not possible, and if you do it again, well, I already explained what I’ll do.” She gave him a wink, turned on her heels, and walked out.

“Goddamn, I think I love her,” he muttered just as the waitress arrived.

“The bill, sir.” Zane looked down at the piece of paper in front of him and laughed. She even managed to stick him with the bill. If he was the mating kind, she’d already be marked.

Zane sat at a side table in the living room working on his laptop. When he came to visit Jones, he only expected to have a bedroom maybe with its own bathroom. What he didn’t expect was a fully self-contained suite.

In addition to the living area, behind him was a bedroom with a bear-sized double bed and a bathroom with both a shower and a separate claw-foot bathtub. To his left was a kitchen, small, but it had everything he could need in it. The fridge and freezer had even been stocked for him.

The TV in the living room was huge and called to the sports mad guy in him like never before.

When he’d gone to thank Rhea, she’d waved him away saying he was family and that was that.

Family reminded him of the message he got from his brother. Their father had arrived to stay with their mother again, which meant one thing. His little brother and sister were going traveling.

He shouldn’t be concerned, after all the twins were thirty now, but he couldn’t help it. Those two had a special knack of getting into all sorts of trouble without even trying.

His father was a typical male tiger. In the wild, full tigers controlled large areas of land. Some of the land had smaller sections that crossed over where female tigers ruled. One male tiger would have breeding rights with those females as long as he kept them safe.

Zeb Anderson may be only part tiger, but it didn’t stop him from acting just the same. Sheriff Anderson patrolled Messa County, a place large enough to hold four smaller towns; each one was home to another Anderson family.

Zane was the oldest child, and sometimes he felt more like the father figure to his younger half brothers and sisters than his actual dad. That man spent more time traveling from town to town dealing with problems than actually raising his children. Thankfully he’d stopped breeding years ago. Ziggy and Ziva, his twin full-blood siblings, were just the tip of the iceberg. At last count he had five half sisters and seven half brothers.

Their father was obviously making his quarterly visit to their mother, so the twins were taking themselves off. Better that than having to listen to their parents argue for a week straight before disappearing into their bedroom, something even a grown-up didn’t need to know about their parents.

Zane made a mental note to call his brother later and turned back to his laptop. Independent security consultant wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted out of life, but then again being a singer wasn’t exactly the easiest thing to do either. The military had given him skills he valued, and now he made his living using those exact techniques, and he was good at it, if he did say so himself.

A double knock followed by three short taps before the door opened made Zane smile. Jones used the same signal from back in their days in boot camp when he made the mistake of walking in on Zane in tiger form. The wolf had practically climbed the curtains when Zane had roared at being disturbed.

“Yo, Anderson.”

“Jones.”

Jones dropped onto the couch, sighed, and stretched.

“Tired?”

“In the best possible way, bro.”

Zane shook his head and closed his laptop. He’d never get any work done while his buddy was here.

Zane stood, walked into the kitchen, grabbed a couple of bottles of beer, and then headed back to Jones. He sat on the couch and handed one of the drinks over.

“Came to tell you my pack is coming up this weekend,” Jones said.

“Ah, so you want me gone by then?” Zane was used to his shifter friends asking him to leave when their pack came to visit, even if he’d met them before. Tigers weren’t the most sociable of breeds.

Jones sipped his drink and shook his head.

“No?” Zane was confused.

“Nope, just letting you know. Rhea is having a party. She’s had one every year that the club has been open. Kind of an anniversary thing. The pack will be here, so will Abby and her team.”

Zane’s interest was piqued with that last bit.

Jones chuckled. “Yeah, I thought that might get your attention.”

Zane just grinned at him.

“There is something else you should know. It’s a costume party, compulsory dress up at that.”

Zane groaned. Just what he needed, a bunch of shifters and full humans dressed up thinking they were all Superman, Batman, or some sort of frigging vampire.

“I don’t have time to get an outfit,” Zane hedged.

Jones gave him a small smile. “Yeah, Rhea said you’d say that. She wanted me to remind you the club is fully stocked with all sorts of fantasy wear and that even your, and I’m quoting here, fat head will find something in our closets. Before you say anything…” Jones stopped Zane before he could speak. “The costumes are never reused. You wear it, you buy it.”

Dammit.
Zane growled low.

“Is this the point where I remind you I’ve known you too long for that move to work on me, cat?”

Zane slammed his bottle down on the table.

“I hate costumes,” Zane grumbled.

“Man up already,” Jones said, sporting a large grin.

Zane wondered if he’d get away with ripping the little wolf’s head off.

“Rhea also said that if you looked like you were about to kill me to tell you two things. One, I belong to her, and no one gets to kill me without express permission from her.”

Zane rolled his eyes at that.

“And two, she got a call from Laney instructing Rhea to help Abby with her costume.” Jones was silent as images ran through Zane’s mind. “Yeah, my BDSM club-owning mate is going to be dressing Abby. I’d pretty much bet my ass Abby doll is going to be showing off all those curves she has.”

Zane’s gaze narrowed at his friend. “Those curves are mine, wolf. You remember that.” The thought of Abby dressed like Rhea had all the blood in his body heading south. Rhea's fetish for leather pants and corsets had him imagining Abby dressed like that. Her succulent breasts pushed up, enhancing their bounty.

Jones’ chuckle brought him out of visions of Abby with her long hair pinned up and away from her face, her body poured into buttery leather with a smile on her lips just for him.

“I figured that last bit would stoke your fire.”

“Fine, I’ll go, but you better make sure everyone there knows Abby belongs to me. No one gets to touch her, no one. Am I clear?”

Jones sipped his beer with a tiny smile. “Yeah, I’ll pass the word.”

Zane nodded his thanks. This vacation was getting better and better.

Zane looked down at himself and shook his head. He was grateful his brother wasn’t here to see him because he knew Ziggy would never let this go.

The top, a word used loosely, was nothing more than a collection of straps. It reminded him of the Roman films he’d seen. He refused to think of it as the harness Rhea mentioned when she’d delivered the costume earlier.

At least the soft leather shorts reached his knees. There had been a moment of fear when he first picked them up. There was no way in hell he’d wear speedos. He’d been convinced they wouldn’t have anything in his size, but he’d forgotten Rhea was used to catering to all shapes and sizes of shifters.

Jones walked in wearing a pair of tatty jean shorts and a plaid shirt, a straw hat atop his head.

“What the hell are you?” Zane asked.

“Just a poor country boy.”

“How come you get a shirt, and I get a collection of bloody belts?” He pulled at the straps around his chest.

“Because you are a Roman soldier, and I’m not.”

“This is a Roman soldier's outfit?”

“Sort of; you’re lucky I managed to talk them out of the loin cloth, because let me tell you, buddy, you were seconds from that.”

Zane shuddered at the thought.
Hold on,
them?

“Who picked the clothes?”

Jones smiled, one that spoke of evil plots. Zane wondered again if he could remove the wolf's head from his shoulders.

“Did I forget to mention Heath and his pack have already arrived? Oops. Laney insisted on helping with the outfit. The last I saw, Rhea, Laney, and Clara were dragging Abby into one of the rooms.”

Zane took a step, ready to save Abby, before reason took over. Not only were these ladies her friends and family, if they were all working together, there was no telling what they’d manage to get Abby to wear.

“Come on. Let’s go reintroduce you to the pack, so they don’t freak out.”

Zane followed Jones down to the main club.

The club was closed to the general public. Only long-term members, pack, and friends had been invited. Most of the serious BDSM toys had been put away, leaving only a set of stocks, a couple of spanking benches, and some boards with handcuffs on them.

“Heath, you remember Zane.” A man, about a head shorter than Zane was with white-blond hair, turned to face him. He’d expected disdain or aggression from the wolf alpha; he didn’t expect Heath to reach out, grab another wolf by the shoulder, and drag him over.