Slow Burn (15 page)

Her eyes twinkled very much like they did when she commanded
the stage. Derrick braced himself for something, unaware of what would come his
way.

She took a step forward. “Is that why you hesitated when you
told me about your relationship with Max? Because of some self-defense
mechanism? Did you feel the need to atone for something by your behavior?”

Derrick straightened to his full height and blinked. His
body responded to her touch, but the shot she took at him hit him in the gut
with the force of a large fist. He didn’t want to answer her question.

Therefore, he didn’t. He could take up a leadership position
if he wanted to. He could lead himself into…oh, who was he kidding. Derrick
strode back into the kitchen and poured another whiskey. He took a swig, let
the caramel and vanilla notes coat his palate. Then he turned back to face her.

She made herself hard to ignore, especially when she used
sex, not magic, to persuade him to open his mouth. The very feminine way she
walked screamed woman more loudly than he’d seen since he’d met her. Certainly
not the same type of girlish movements the lead singer of a death metal band
would use, but then again, he wasn’t a typical puma.

He did his best to keep his pulse even and his mind clear of
nonsense. Drawing in a deep breath, he held it, let it out, then repeated the
motion a second and third time. “There is and has always been a shifter war.”
His mouth went dry as she took another step forward, the towel parting just
enough to show the pale flesh of her thigh. His eyes remained fixed on the way
she walked. “A very bad shifter has it in for humans, just as the Anti-Shifter
League has it in for us.”

People died when Derrick controlled more than just his
actions. His brother ended up missing, only to turn up in a hospital in some
Middle Eastern country where they had to send in a bomber to get him out. Other
shifters died. And Derrick blamed himself. But he couldn’t share that with
Sonja. She already had enough darkness in her life.

She continued walking toward him, now with her hands on her
hips.

What was she doing?

“Tell me more.” Power tinged with sanguine sweetness flowed
from her voice. It coated Derrick like a warm blanket or the cool side of a
pillow at night.

He looked askance at her. The wave of power increased,
forcing him to fight for control over his focus and his words. “What are you
doing to me, Sonja?”

“Helping you,” she mouthed. “Continue.”

Her eyes changed color, softened, and that intense silver of
her irises almost glowed.

Her hands now covered his.

He didn’t want help. As a puma, a shifter, he could handle
his own life. Derrick set the drink down on the marble countertop. “What are
you doing?” His body shook and he fought the urge to spill his secrets to her.

“You’re going to have to learn,” she whispered, “that this
has to be done a certain way. We’re…” Her voice dropped lower. “Mated.”

Eyes widened, he gasped. “Mated.” He said the one word as
though it held all the power in the world and all those who heard it understood
its meaning. It bound them together indefinitely as soul mates. What one felt,
the other would, too. What went on between them, only they could share, but
others could use the knowledge against one or the other.

He had no idea how it worked with humans. “How do you know?”

She touched her forehead with the tip of her finger.
“Remember, I’m a witch.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. I’m a puma. I shift into a carnivorous
beast at will. I don’t have precognitive powers.”

Her lip twitched.

He found the gesture sexy despite the look on her face.

“Are you rejecting me?”

“Never.” He stepped into her. Wrapping his arms around her
was dangerous, but he did just say something stupid. Witch or not, she still
possessed feelings that mattered to him. Her emotions had always been easy to
read.

Awareness of her distraction techniques reeled in his mind.
She wanted to run off and play hero, keeping him and Max out of real danger. He
didn’t need to be precognitive to know that, her gestures, her words said it
all.

He couldn’t fathom the thought that what she considered
dangerous might be a walk in the park for a former spy and CIA operative.
Perhaps… “So what does this mean?”

Her arms slid around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers.
“It means…” She ran her tongue over his lower lip. “That we’re bound together
for life.”

Bound? The words his father said echoed in his head, but he
thought knocked up at the time meant he’d get some woman pregnant. Was Sonja?
He shook the thought from his head. They’d had unprotected sex a few times now
and they couldn’t trade sexual diseases but she could still end up giving him a
hybrid baby. The thought made him shudder until her hands roamed up and down
his shoulders as she leaned in for another kiss.

He pulled back, flicked his tongue out to taste her. “But
you don’t want this.”

Her eyes went wide. “How can you?”

He smirked. How could he not want her? In the end, the thing
that mattered most was protecting Sonja and keeping her safe. The emotions may
be new but the desire wasn’t hard to fathom, it felt familiar. Jealousy over
another man touching her like this reared its head and pissed off his beast.
Derrick shook off the feeling. “I don’t know entirely. I just know that I feel
it strongly.” His voice held notes of emotion and he had to wonder for a moment
whether he had let go too fast for her.

Her fingers tightened in his hair. “You’d just accept it
then?”

He flattened his lips together in a thin line. He wasn’t
sure he could, not with his past, not with the dangers facing him. Sure, he was
on the do-not-touch list but that didn’t always matter. Sonja hesitated in
asking the question and he couldn’t afford that, not with his emotions running
so high now. “I hear the doubt in your voice. You’re the one not accepting of
what could be truth.”

She cocked her head, obviously thinking for a moment about
her response. The flow of power slowed. “Yet you use those word choices.”

He pressed his lips into hers, shutting her up.

Her body tensed against his, breasts pressed into his chest.
The power began spilling into him at an accelerated rate, adding to his heated
arousal.

He ran a hand along the small of her back until he cupped
her ass and gave her a squeeze.

She murmured sweet nothings beneath the kiss.

He slanted his mouth over hers for better access and then
thrust his tongue between her plump lips. If she wasn’t going to play fair,
then neither was he.

The other hand circled around her bicep, effectively pinning
her to him.

He hardened beneath her, smelled her scent, and it drove him
wild with desire.

Still the calmness in him kept lust at bay long enough for
him to focus on his goal of distracting her from whatever she was doing.

The towel slid from her hip to the floor and exposed more
skin.

So much for distracting. Derrick grabbed a handful of her
bare ass. He deepened the kiss, biting her mouth, sucking on her lower lip.

She rocked against him gently, threw one leg around his
waist, and pulled herself into him.

Her heat rubbed against his jean-clad thigh, stealing his
concentration completely. Derrick didn’t want to do it this way, he wanted
unbridled passion, not forced mating because somehow they both bore a mark.
Derrick wanted…he blinked, broke the kiss, and ran a hand through the flow of
her hair, all while finding himself slowly getting lost in her now silver-blue
eyes.

She clutched at his dark hair, trying for control of the
kiss.

Power swirled around them.

Neither could get the upper hand magically.

Derrick had superior physical strength over her.

The softness she wielded over him felt more like…great
concern.

He could understand that, but why? Was it the bond?

Did it matter? With her feminine heat pressing against his
crotch, he quickly forgot to care about the why of any mating.

“I need inside you.” He groaned.

She growled deeply.

The puma in Derrick responded, swishing its tail back and
forth.

Derrick moved her around, pinning her against the counter
with his body.

“I like how this could end up.” She bit down on his lower
lip. “But haven’t we dirtied enough of Max’s furniture?” She panted, the rise
and fall of her chest an erotic sight for Derrick that hardened his cock
further.

He wanted her breasts in his mouth, needed to suckle them to
hard peaks and hear her screaming beneath him. Hell, he wouldn’t care if she
rode him, as long as he could remain inside her.

Derrick pulled back. He shook his head, almost as though he
were shaking off her magic and bringing himself out of the trancelike state
she’d been trying to put him into. He couldn't allow her to to get the full
details of the event. Witch or not, she was still a civilian, and most humans
didn’t have the stomach to understand just what it meant to attack a village
with flamethrowers and use claws and teeth to clean up the mess. “You’re
right.” He cleared his throat. “Now how about you tell me…” He stepped back
from her, the fog in his mind lifting enough to give him clarity over what just
happened. “What were you thinking, trying to manipulate me?”

* * *

She had to catch her breath. She relished being around
Derrick, surrounded by his intensity, because he didn’t overwhelm her. His
sense of being, his aura, didn’t crowd hers and threaten to knock her out. Only
the racing of her heart did that, just when she was near him.

During the several hours she’d been away from him, she
worried about him despite only having just met him. The first night he’d been
so gentle with her, he’d been the hero who came to her rescue.

Sad that he couldn’t continue doing that.

She needed the balance in his calmness; she realized that.

She made the decision to accept their mating if she could
push him back and keep him safe from harm. She had to do that since his life
would always be in danger from kidnappers. The dangers also included whatever
crap was rolling around in his mind. Sometimes those fears, those memories,
while clouded, were better addressed by putting them out in reality and voicing
them. Then accepting them. Basic therapy, not witchcraft.

Some people made her sick, their lust for power, greed, or
derelict minds too much for her to deal with. It had been going on for the last
several years since she’d come out publicly as the lead singer of Ark-KaotiK.

True, she didn’t possess his speed or strength, but he
killed out of instinct. Protect, fuck, mate, feed, repeat. She had a choice as
a human.

“You’re thinking. Not good.” His arms settled around her
shoulders. “Talk and be quick before I fuck you here and now.”

She shuddered, the depth of commitment in that threat
sending waves of desire through her and dampening her thights just a little
more. She pulled air into her lungs, inhaling Derrick’s scent and the
underlying cigar aroma. The wilderness, the scent of tangy jungle and lush lands
accosted her and her nostrils flared.

He stepped closer, pressing his erection into her belly.

Nipples hardened and wetness coated her thighs. She couldn’t
think with him standing so near.

“You’re going to answer me, Sonja. You said we’re mated.
Fine. Believe me, I’m more okay with this than you might think.” He narrowed
his eyes. “But you tried something on me. It wouldn’t work. Why?”

No, it wouldn’t. She couldn’t pull the wool over his eyes,
not fully anyway. Magic could do tremendous things, but with her mate, it would
only go so far if used for manipulation. The target had to be willing. Derrick
fought tooth and nail to defend his mind and it made her wonder what else he
harbored that he no longer needed. She had to realize if she cared enough to
prod repeatedly, and yes, even to trick him, then they had a destiny together.

At her concerts, crowds gave way to her manipulation with
ease because people always looked for excuses to bleed. She dealt easily with
the mental chemistry required to change physical bloodletting into emotional
bleeding. Well, that and the fact that they were often inebriated which lowered
inhibitions.

Her mate would know her thoughts.

“You’re not going to answer me?”

She stared at the broad expanse of his chest. She wanted to
speak, to do something, to say something. Anger poured off him but not in
waves. More like in a slow stream, the energy flowed from him, and it made
sense now.

If they were mated, he would balance her. And Max was right.

Dammit.

She wanted to seethe, but it’d do no good. Besides, up until
she’d had phenomenal sex with Derrick, she only had her music to take her
aggression.

She understood clinging to her emotions. Anger, violence,
vitriol. Those feelings she dealt with in her music. Death metal was never
tender though it held a dark resplendence. Derrick, however angry he seemed,
wasn’t giving her a rough time.

He simply wanted an answer to a question.

She stuttered. “I can’t. I wanted to help you, goddammit. I
can’t tell you why it didn’t take this time.” Tears stung the backs of her
eyes.

His expression, energy, all softened and his lips parted.
She watched the slow movements of his tongue sliding out, licking his lip and
imagining it on her lips. She had no idea what to say next but her pussy
clenched in response to his simple movement, bringing her back to the reality
that they were going to have sex again.

He seemed to loom over her now. He dwarfed her in height,
made her feel small and girly. She hadn’t felt that way in a long while. Even
when they fucked, she’d felt like she’d been well fucked, not made love to.