Hidden Crimes (23 page)

Their gazes connected, their imaginations
mutually inspired by the fantasy. Evina began to unbind her hair,
the motions of her fingers causing his blood to heat. He didn’t
want to speak for fear of breaking the spell. She parted the plaits
that made up her hair . . . halfway, then all, combing the ripples
and shaking her dark curls free. Her nipples peeked through the
strands like an X-rated fairy tale.

Nate’s hands still cupped her breasts. She
took his wrists in her hold, her grip cuffing them. He knew what
was coming, and it excited him all the same.

Slowly, firmly, she pulled his hands
away.

He resisted, but only enough to give her
something to work against. This was a demonstration of tiger
strength, and he was enjoying it. By the time she’d forced his
wrists down against the pillow, his cock was as hard as stone. He
tightened his buttocks to push his hard-on up at her.

Getting what he wanted wasn’t going to be
that simple. Rather than take him, she dragged her creamy labia up
his length.

He gasped, nerves jangling wildly at that
treatment.

She bent to kiss him, her curls spilling
around them. Her mouth was tender and forceful at the same time.
When he struggled, she clamped his wrists harder.

The tip of his penis began to leak, the drops
falling onto his stomach.

“You’re my prisoner,” she whispered against
his lips. “You’re not getting out of here until I have my way with
you.”

She made a game into something real, rubbing
her pussy along his shaft in increasingly gentle rolls. He couldn’t
come; she’d lightened the pressure too much for that. This didn’t
mean her actions weren’t pleasurable. She was sleek and soft and
her folds clung to him wetly. The contrast between this and her
iron grip on his wrists sharpened his perceptions of both places.
His spine felt like a wire was tightening inside it, starting in
his tailbone.

“Please,” he said, giving in. “Take me inside
you.”

He must have liked pleading when it was to
her. Odd little sparks sizzled through his groin as he said the
words. Evina wet her wine-red lips and rolled her hips up again.
“Please means nothing to me. I’ll fuck you when I decide.”

She yanked his arms wider. The abrupt jerk
shocked him as much as her saying
fuck
, though the shock was
hardly a bad one. A throb shot up his penis, an ache of want so
intense he couldn’t tell if it was discomfort or pleasure.
Suddenly, her gentleness was gone. Her hips ground over the
ache—the friction almost too hard, almost too sweet—and then she
tipped and moved and the crazily pulsing head of his penis was
sliding into her.

He nearly bit his tongue at how incredible
that felt.

She took him: her strength, her power, her
thigh muscles cording beautifully as she pushed down his length.
Heat licked down him inch by inch. She wriggled him deeper when he
was seated, just as he would have done to her.

“You’re mine,” she said, growling it.

Somehow this didn’t sound like
playacting.

“I am,” he growled back in the same
maybe-I’m-serious spirit. “And I’m not going to let you forget
it.”

Her pupils flashed, the alpha in her
resisting his warning. Nate didn’t care. If he was hers, then
certainly she was his. He twisted his hands, and her wrists were
the ones that were cuffed. Evina yanked, but couldn’t free herself.
Nate didn’t think she minded. Despite the sparks her eyes were
shooting, her sheath alternately quivered and clamped around his
cock.

“Ride me hard,” he dared, low and dark.
“Prove to me you’re in charge.”

She tossed her hair and did her
damnedest.

Nate loved every second: every bounce of her
gorgeous breasts, every curve and muscle she showed off. She was
his tiger queen, putting her slavish mount through his helpless
paces. She rode him so well he needed years of tricks to stave off
coming. He wasn’t surprised when his bulbus gland activated; that
primitive part of him couldn’t help but give its all for her.

Its engorgement warned him tricks wouldn’t
help him now. He released her wrists to grab for her hips, needing
to add his strength to hers for the final thrusts. She gripped his
shoulders, her tiger claws digging in. She pumped herself on his
cock so fast he had to bite his lip to keep from shouting.

Glorious
was the only word to describe
how she looked when she flung back her curls and came. Her abandon
awed him, the passion she seemed to have no fear of expressing. As
her pussy compressed around him in orgasm, he doubted his cock had
ever been so hard. The tightening of her walls on his swollen gland
was exquisite—and more than his control could stand. The pressure
in his groin hit flashpoint. His orgasm crested, the pleasure so
powerful he put bruises on both their thighs from bucking into her
like a fiend.

He assumed Evina liked it. She let out a
strangled sound, like she could hardly bear how good it felt. The
throbbing contractions of her pussy told him she was coming
again.

At last, they settled on their backs on her
very rumpled bed. Their ribs went in and out as they tried to catch
their breaths. He wondered if she’d bring up the fact that she’d
called him hers—or that he hadn’t protested.

“Whew,” she said, her hand squeezing his.
“You are a good workout.”

He guessed she was going to let it lie for
now. That was okay. At least, he thought it was. If all she’d been
doing was role-playing, he suspected he might be ticked.

“I hope you’re ready to sleep now,” he said
aloud. “You wore me out good that time.”

She rolled up on her elbow to study his
slight smile, her right index finger tracing the sweaty hollow
beneath his eye. The light touch felt nice to him. “You looked
tired when you showed up tonight.”

Nate really didn’t want to get into that. “I
was tired. Now I’m also satisfied.”

She laughed, though concern remained in her
eyes. “Sleep, little wolf,” she crooned. “I’ll watch over you
tonight.”

Nate’s grin fought through his weariness.
“Will you sing
me
the Mini-Dragons’ theme song?”

She snuggled down against him, her cheek on
his chest, her upper arm hugging his ribcage. “I’ll sing you
Bohemian Demon Rhapsody
if you want, though I warn you I
don’t really know the tune.”

“Don’t care. Love means never having to
apologize for being off key.”

He didn’t care that she jerked at his use of
the
L
word. Let her wonder if he meant it. Let her get used
to the idea. For once, Nate Rivera was happy to have a woman think
he was serious about her.

BECAUSE the contents of Evina’s fridge had
dwindled to pitiful, Nate called his favorite grocery delivery
service first thing after he woke up. The smells woke Evina’s son
sooner than the others. Silent but interested, Rafi hopped onto his
chair at the kitchen table mere minutes after Nate began
cooking.

Since his feet didn’t reach the floor, he had
no trouble swinging his legs. He watched Nate work with great
attention.

“That’s steak,” he said. “For breakfast.”

“Yes, it is. Don’t you like steak?”

Nate had never met a predator were who
didn’t. He wasn’t surprised when the boy nodded emphatically. “Is
it your birthday?”

Nate was realizing the Mohajits’ budgetary
belt was a few holes tighter than his own. “It’s not my birthday.
Sometimes treats are for no reason.”

“That’s what Mom says. And then she says
don’t get used to it.”

Nate felt like a crossbow bolt had struck him
in the chest. He looked at the boy. Rafi’s blue eyes were huge in
his narrow face, his black curls resembling something that came
from sticking your finger in a light socket. The boy wasn’t
complaining. He seemed to want to know the rules for this new
visitor’s behavior.

“Are you sad?” Rafi asked. “Your eyes look
funny.”

Oh boy
, Nate thought as his heart gave
another lurch. He accepted he was probably falling for Evina.
Falling for her kids he hadn’t prepared for.

“I’m thinking about cutting onions,” he told
Rafi. “I like them in my eggs.”

Rafi’s giggle was infectious. “You must be
thinking about them hard.”

Knowing how much growing weres could eat,
Nate scrambled an egg for Rafi, then set up Evina’s stovetop grill.
As that heated up for the meat, he made coffee, proud of himself
for juggling tasks and amounts so well. Two-person dinners were
more his usual. Everything was going perfectly until a tall broad
shadow appeared outside the kitchen door. Evina’s townhome was an
end unit, or it wouldn’t have had this entrance. As a key slid into
the lock, Nate wasn’t glad for the perk.

He flicked off the burners and pulled his
ankle piece in nearly the same motion. Rafi gasped in shock, which
Nate took a second to feel bad about.

“Don’t move,” he ordered the intruder. With a
small corner of his mind, he noticed the man had two women behind
him.

“That’s my Daddy!” Rafi said. “Don’t shoot
him!”

The man had his hands up, an instinctive
reaction that showed he had some sense. His expression, on the
other hand, was surlier than Nate would have recommended,
considering which of them had the gun.

“What are
you
doing here?” Rafi’s
father demanded.

Built on the same huge lines as Evina’s crew,
his azure eyes matched the twins’. His hair was honey-brown and
wavy, and his jaw was square. Movie heroes had looks like his,
though his obvious ego spoiled them some.

Play nice
, Nate reminded himself.
There’s a kid in the room
.

“I’m cooking breakfast,” he said as mildly as
he was able. Though Evina’s ex seemed to know who he was, he
introduced himself anyway. “I’m Nate Rivera, with the RPD. I’m sure
Rafi would run upstairs and get Evina for you.”

This made the man—
Paul
, Nate thought
he was called—frown harder.

“Actually,” he said, “we . . . we were hoping
Evina could put us in touch with you.”

Nate lowered his gun and stuck it in the back
of his trousers, though his wolf half didn’t want to be civilized.
This was Evina’s ex-boyfriend, the father of her children.

Nate wasn’t convinced he’d deserved either of
those honors.

But perhaps Paul wasn’t at his best. He
looked ragged, like he’d been on a bender and hadn’t slept a wink.
A quick glance at the women who hovered together at the open side
door confirmed something was going on. Both females were slender,
fair-haired, and beautiful. Though repairs had been made, he saw
signs of worry and weeping—more in the woman he suspected was
younger. She was slightly shorter than her companion and was
clinging to her as if afraid she’d blow away without an anchor. Her
pretty flower-bedecked cardigan was buttoned crookedly.

“Why do you want to talk to me?” he asked,
having observed all this in a few seconds.

Paul and the younger blonde drew breath to
answer, but the sound of feet coming down the steps stopped them.
Dressed in a button-down yellow oxford and khaki pants, Evina was
hurrying to join them.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her gaze going
around the kitchen. She stopped on her ex’s face. “Paul, what’s
wrong?”

The tall strapping tiger burst into tears.
“It’s Malik,” he said, struggling to speak clearly. “Someone
kidnapped him.”

“Oh my God.” Evina’s eyes filled with horror,
suggesting her imagination was going the same place as his.

“Malik is your son?” Nate asked.

Paul nodded jerkily. “He’s barely two,” added
the woman Nate assumed was Paul’s wife. “Please help us get him
back.”

“Did you get a ransom call?”

“Yes.” Paul wiped his face and tried to pull
himself together. “It woke us up this morning. They want sixty
thousand dollars. Until we heard, we had no idea Malik was missing.
Liane and I ran to his room, but his crib was empty.”

His voice broke, the memory overwhelming him.
Nate looked at the wife. Liane was crying as well, but seemed
better able to speak. Unfairly gorgeous was a good way to describe
her. Her teary eyes were the blue of violets, her skin like rose
powder mixed in cream. With her delicate frame and features, she
gave off an impression of fragility, the sort of woman most men
felt compelled to protect. When her petal pink lips parted, Nate
had to struggle to focus.

She smelled like a spring meadow.

“Did you contact the police?” he asked.
“Apart from me, that is.”

“No,” she said in a soft sweet voice that
made him think of kittens—anxious kittens, at the moment. “The
kidnappers said they’d kill Malik if we went to the cops. I didn’t
want to come to you at all, but my mother and Paul thought we
should talk to someone with experience.”