Michel/Striker (6 page)

“A fear of what?”

“Of what they intended to do with my research,” she said. She wrinkled her nose. Her fights with Locke had been epic when she’d tried to destroy the computer files that held her research. “I tried to convince Locke that things were spiraling out of control, but he refused to listen.” She shrugged. “So I decided it was time to quit.”

His gaze narrowed. “That’s when they imprisoned you?”

“No.” Her features tightened. “There was only one way out of the organization, according to Christopher.”

He frowned in confusion as he easily realized what she was implying. “You said you were a prisoner.”

“I was. Locke faked my death and hid me in a house in New Orleans, complete with locks and a guard.”

He gave a slow nod, his expression still impossible to read. “You escaped?”

“No, he released me before he fled.”

“Why?”

“He claimed he still had feelings for me,” she said with blunt honesty. If she was caught in another lie, she knew beyond a doubt this male would never forgive her. “But I can’t be certain that he didn’t expect me to do exactly what I did. Run to the Wildlands.”

CHAPTER 4

Michel studied her pale face, the last of his resistance crumbling beneath the stark revelations.

Raphael had been right. Dammit. What he was feeling was more than sympathy. He truly did understand her pain. He’d suffered the same knowledge he was different from others.

Unlike Chelsea, however, he hadn’t been alone.

During his darkest days, he’d had a loving family and pack who’d supported him. Without them he might very well have turned out to be a bitter recluse who cursed a fate that had left him crippled.

“Do you believe me?” She interrupted his dark brooding, her expression defensive.

Michel heaved a deep sigh before giving a grudging nod of his head. “Yes.”

“Well, don’t leap for joy,” she muttered. “You might hurt yourself.”

He lifted a hand to rub the short stubble of his hair. He could continue to act like an ass, or he could admit the truth. It was the way she squared her shoulders, as if preparing for one of his scathing retorts, that made his decision for him.

Shit.
He’d done enough damage.

More than enough.

“It’s…” He struggled for the words to explain his behavior.

“Complicated?” she mocked.

A humorless laugh was wrenched from his throat. She had no idea.

“When I first caught sight of you I was stunned,” he told her.

She wrinkled her nose. “You made it clear what you thought of me.”

“No, I didn’t.” He held her gaze. Odd. He’d assumed his pride would take a beating at his confession. Instead he felt nothing but a surge of relief. “Not even to myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw you only hours after you arrived. I was dazzled by your beauty.” He frowned as she reached to cover her scars. Stepping forward, he brushed aside her fingers so he could frame her face with his hands. “Stop,” he commanded in stern tones. You’re beautiful. A few scars will never change that.”

Her eyes widened, a heartbreaking vulnerability shimmering in the emerald depths.

“You hate me.”

He flinched. Her words felt like a knife slicing through him.

“As I said, I saw you and I felt like I’d been hit by a truck,” he insisted, his cat purring as the scent of autumn spice saturated the air around him. “Then Raphael told me you’d been working for Locke. I was—”

“Furious,” she interrupted.

“And thankful.”

She blinked in confusion. “Thankful?”

He grimaced. “It gave me the perfect excuse to fight my attraction to you.”

There was a long pause as she studied his expression. What was she searching for?

“And that was important?” she at last demanded.

“Yes.”

Her lips flattened with annoyance. “Because I’m connected to Locke or because I’m human?”

Ah. If only it was so simple.

“Neither. I wanted to fight my attraction because it was too powerful,” he bluntly admitted. “I didn’t like feeling that my emotions were spinning out of control.”

She sucked in a sharp breath, an unexpected hurt darkening her eyes. “Is this some sort of sick game you’re playing with me?”

“Hell no,” he instantly growled, lowering his head until he could brush his lips over her scarred cheek. “I’ll admit I’m a master at playing games, but this is all too serious.”

She stiffened, her fingers curling around his wrists as she tried to pull away.

“Michel, don’t,” she pleaded.

He lifted his head. For an agonizing minute he thought she was rejecting his touch. Not that he didn’t deserve it. But damn, he was just now accepting how desperately he needed this female.

It couldn’t be too late.

Then he abruptly realized she was protesting his kiss against her scars.

His brows drew together as he scowled down at her wary expression.

“It wasn’t your fault that you survived.”

“I know, it’s just…” She made another bid for freedom. “They’re ugly.”

Michel lowered his head, once again pressing his lips to her cheek. “Not to me.”

“Right,” she muttered.

He nuzzled a path to the curve of her ear. “You don’t believe me?”

She trembled. “No.”

Michel knew how he wanted to convince her that he found her profoundly and utterly enchanting. Scars and all.

But he forced himself to pull back. He wanted to make damned sure she understood that there was nothing that could make her anything less than beautiful to him.

“Then let me show you,” he said, stepping back to pull off his boots before straightening to undo his zipper.

“What are you doing?” She gave a small gasp as he shoved down his jeans and stepped out of them, revealing his preference for going commando. But even as her cheeks heated with a combination of embarrassment and unmistakable arousal, her gaze drifted down to take in the deep scars that ran along the outside of his thighs to mid-calf on each leg. She lifted her head in confusion. “What happened?”

“I had a birth defect that left me lame when I was a cub,” he explained. “It wasn’t until human technology progressed enough to replace my joints that I was able to walk.”

“Oh.” Her tension melted as her scientific curiosity kicked into gear. Bending down, she studied the thick scars that marred his dark skin. “I thought Pantera healed too fast to leave blemishes?”

He gave a low growl, his cock hardening. Did she have any idea what X-rated fantasies she was inspiring as she bent toward him?

If she didn’t, she was going to find out.

Very, very soon.

“My body tried to reject the metal alloy in the knee joint,” he said, his voice thickening with his growing need. “It kept me from healing for weeks.”

She straightened, a flush touching her cheeks. Clearly she’d had enough Pantera blood to catch the scent of his arousal.

Or maybe it was his fully erect cock that was giving him away.

She took a step backward. Like that was going to ease the passion that was smoking between them.

“What happens when you shift?”

He stepped forward, not about to give her space.

“My cat absorbs the new material. But the scars remain.” He held her gaze. “Do they offend you?”

“Of course not.”

“Why not?” He moved even closer, sucking in a deep breath of her feminine scent. The air heated with his cat’s hunger. “They’re a symbol of my weakness.”

“No,” she breathed, her hand automatically lifting so she could chew her nail. “They represent your strength.”

“Just as yours represent the miracle of life.” He grabbed her hand, pulling it to his lips. Her grandmother had made her feel as if her life represented failure. He intended to make her realize it was a triumph. “You survived, Chelsea. That should be celebrated.”

She released a slow, shaken breath, her heart thundering loud enough for him to pick up the rapid beat.

“You confuse me,” she whispered.

Releasing her hand, he tugged his sweatshirt over his head and tossed it aside. “The feeling is mutual,” he assured her, a smile curving his lips as her gaze took in his bare chest, lingering on his puma tattoo.

She licked her lips.

Was she thinking about tasting him?

Hell, he hoped so.

“Then why are you doing this?” she demanded.

“This?”

Without warning, Michel leaned down to scoop her off her feet. He’d been achingly aware of the nearby bed from the moment they’d entered the room. Now he intended to make full use of it.

“Michel,” she breathed in shock. But she made no effort to escape.

Thank the Goddess. She was stronger than a normal human, but he was still far more powerful. If she even hinted that she was uncomfortable with his touch he would have to back away.

And he didn’t want to back away.

“Christ, I like to hear you say my name,” he murmured, his gaze locked on her face as he watched every emotion flick over her delicate features.

Wariness. Excitement. And a hunger that matched his own.

“Tell me why.”

He gently laid her in the center of the mattress. “I’m doing this because if I don’t have you soon I think I’m going to combust,” he said with a simple honesty.

Slowly her gaze swept over his body, lingering on his cock that hardened at the scent of her arousal that whispered through the air.

Autumn spice. His mouth watered for a taste.

“You can do more than look, Dr. Young,” he breathed, lowering himself to stretch beside her, his cat preening beneath her heated gaze. “You can touch.”

Her lips twitched with a hint of amusement. “How generous.”

“Well, I’m a generous kind of cat.” He shocked himself by teasing. He wasn’t a playful cat. Or at least he’d never been before tonight. But with this female… Holding her gaze, he reached for her hand to press it against his aching dick. “Feel what you do to me.”

“Michel.”

She hesitated, then perhaps reading the fierce need in his eyes, she gently allowed her fingers to curl around his cock. He sucked in a sharp breath as she skimmed up to trace the broad tip.
Holy shit.
His balls were already tight, his seed poised to explode.

He was threatening to come just from her light touch.

A slow smile curved her lips as she studied his rigid features and the bead of sweat that trickled down his bare chest. The beautiful tease was clearly enjoying his torment.

He shuddered, sitting up to swiftly rid her of her clothing. If they’d been in the Wildlands he would have simply exposed his claws and shredded them away. Now he cursed every second that was wasted wiggling her out of her jeans and sweater.

Once he had her naked, he paused long enough to admire her slender form. Christ. Her hair was a cascade of fire as it trailed over the pillow, her eyes shimmering like pale emeralds, her body drenched silver in the moonlight.

Exquisite.

Unable to resist temptation, he reached to trail his fingers over her wide brow and down the slender length of her nose.

“I know I’m rushing you,” he admitted in rough tones. “But I’ve waited too long to have you.” He released a shaken sigh, his fingers moving to deliberately brush over the scars that roughened her cheek. “It’s killing me.”

She stiffened, but thankfully didn’t pull away from his tender caress. Michel felt a fierce surge of pleasure. He was honored by her trust. He, better than anyone, understood just how difficult it was for her not to jerk away.

“Are you going to regret this in the morning?”

He grimaced, knowing what she was asking.

She feared he was going to return to being the cold, distant male who’d tried so hard to pretend he wasn’t completely fascinated by her.

“The only thing I regret is punishing you because I was afraid of being vulnerable,” he growled, his hand moving down the curve of her neck. “I was a jackass.”

“Yes. You were.” She gave his cock a slow pump, her fingers hitting his sensitive balls with fucking perfection. Damn. “But I still wanted you.”

“Thank the Goddess,” he breathed, groaning as she gave another pump. Gently he removed her fingers from his cock, knowing another squeeze and he was going to blow. “I might not deserve your desire, but I intend to take full advantage of it.”

“Maybe I’m taking advantage of you,” she warned, a tiny smile curving her lips and making his heart squeeze with a sharp regret.

Why hadn’t he been doing everything in his power to earn that lovely smile? Because he was a stubborn idiot, that was why.

“Feel free to take advantage whenever, wherever, and as much as you want,” he murmured in throaty tones, his fingers lowering to cup the magnificent swell of her breast.

“You mean for tonight?” she kept her tone light, as if his answer didn’t matter.

Michel’s cat growled. One night was never going to be enough. Hell, he wasn’t sure he could
ever
have enough.

“For as long as you’ll allow me to be a part of your life,” he said, delighted when he heard her heartbeat skip at his low words.

“I…” Her words trailed away as he lowered his head to capture the tip of her breast between his lips. Using his tongue, he teased her nipple until it was a tight bud and she was squirming beneath him. “Oh my god,” she moaned.