Tempting Whispers: The Kategan Alphas 6 (13 page)

She grabbed a T-shirt and pair of undies
from the dresser, then stopped. A cold sweat came over her. Her chest pulled
tight, making it hard to breathe.

“Brayden,” she whispered. Then louder, “Brayden.
Brayden! BRAYDEN!”

Booming footsteps from the stairs
sounded, hammering in time to the beat of her raucous heart. “What the fuck
happened?”

She stepped back from the dresser,
finger pointing. His body pressed against her back and somehow her breathing
calmed if only a little. His body stilled, then he crossed in front of her to
pick up the mating symbol pressed between her clothes. He’d been in here. In
her
things
. He picked up the rope made from her and Joseph’s hair and
clothing on the day they mated. The first day he’d taken her to bed and touched
her. Her skin crawled like millions of ants dancing across her flesh with wet,
scratchy legs.

“Take your stuff and go to my room.”

“He was here. He was actually here.” Her
voice sounded faraway, distant.

“Vanessa, get your clothes and go to my
room now.”

“But, he was here! In your house. In my
things.” Her eyes landed on the mating symbol in his hand and something hot and
angry came over her. “Give it to me!” She reached for it, but he held it away.
Her jaw tightened but she didn’t stop reaching for it. “I’m going to burn the fucking
thing. Just give it to me, Brayden!”

“Vanessa, calm down. It’s okay.”

His soothing voice sounded grating on
her very last nerve. She stood on tiptoed, curling her hands into his shirt and
yelled into his face. “I will not calm down! Give me the fucking symbol!”

He blinked, something flashing in his
eyes. Her frustrated mind had no time to analyze it, to figure out what the
look meant. But she figured out rather quickly when his arms banded around her
waist and lifted her up so his mouth could claim hers. She growled at him,
squirming in his arms to get away, but his grip at her waist only tightened,
one hand coming up to cup the back of her head to keep her still.

And it worked. Then his mouth captured
hers hard. His tongue tore through her defenses, laving her in a kiss of steamy
fire, and anger turned to passion. Her stomach clenched in response, even as
her mind warred with the different, startling emotions of anger and desire. He
tasted good, and she didn’t want him to. His lips felt soft and sensual against
hers, and she hated that even more. And when his kiss gentled and he softly
took her lips over and again, she wilted against him like a flower, completely
in his control.

He pulled back, his hand massaging her
scalp in a way that sent chills down her neck and arms. “Go into my room, baby.
The lock code is four, seven, two, nine. Can you do that for me?”

The protest started to erupt before she
could quench it, but that was okay, because he did it for her. His mouth
slanted across hers, their breaths mingling.

“Can you do that for me?”

She nodded, dazed. He stepped away from
her and the room spun, but not from alcohol this time. She walked out of the
room without feeling her limbs. She felt like a zombie, or a robot performing
the programmed function necessary for the task. She found his door, entered a
code on the pad next to it, something that’d escaped her attention before, then
entered. The room was dark, very dark, but her eyes adjusted and landed on the
dark coverlet of his bed sitting low to the floor.

She went to it, pulled back the cover
and got inside. She suddenly felt exhausted. All the energy it’d taken today
had sapped her. She pressed her nose into the pillow and sniffed his scent,
Brayden’s scent. It made her feel warm and safe. With the heady masculine taste
of Brayden on her tongue, her lips, she closed her eyes and fell asleep faster
than ever before.

Chapter 11

A stirring of air. The slight
compression of a foot on a wood floor.
Something
woke her up. Vanessa
sat up, her back kissing the headboard as her eyes scanned the dark room around
her. A figure stood then came for her. A scream erupted in her throat, then
choked to a stop as the lamp next her was flicked on.

Her breaths came out in pants. “Brayden.”

The bed dipped as his strong body sat
next to her. “Expecting someone else?”

“Hell, no,” she said quickly. “What time
is it? Why’d you wake me?”

He looked away, the lamp lighting the
half of his profile facing her. Crinkles formed around his eyes and his grim
mouth casted his whole visage into a dark countenance.

“I thought you might want to take a
shower before we head out.”

An excited flutter shot from between her
legs to her chest like a butterfly. His deep voice coupled with the dark
atmosphere in the room reminded her that she was on a bed and Brayden was
sitting right next to her. What if he kissed her now or she kissed him? Would
he come down with her on the bed and show her what other pleasure he was
capable of evoking inside her?

“Head out where?” she asked, her voice a
croak.

His gaze met hers, and damn if she
couldn’t read the look in his eyes. “Don’t worry about that. I packed your
things. Take a shower, then we’ll leave.”

He stood and her hand reached out to
catch his wrist. His gaze came back to her, something darker in his eyes...or
maybe that was just how the light played with his eyes now that he didn’t sit with
the lamp near him.

She could have asked so many things. She
could have asked about the time or insist he explain where they were going, but
none of that mattered to her. All that mattered to her right then was the
incredible energy wavering between them, that felt so taut and hard it’d take a
chainsaw to break the tether.

So instead of asking any of those
things, she tilted her chin up and asked what she really wanted to. “Will you
come with me?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment,
then he shook his head. “I better not. Meet me downstairs when you’re done.”

He left the room, shutting the door
quietly behind him. Vanessa tore the comfort off her and stormed to the shower.
“What an asshole.” She flung her clothes off her with agitated movements. How
could he be hot one second then distant the next? He was the one who said what
they’d done before had changed everything. As she stepped under the spray and
did her business, her mind scoured through their previous altercations. Had he
changed his mind? Did he just not what her anymore?

Hell, what did it matter? What about
what
she
wanted. She wanted a lot, and all of it involved her and
Brayden naked with him buried so deep inside of her she couldn’t remember her
own name. She wanted to feel that same white-hot, intense explosion of pleasure
he’d given her before while he was pumping his fingers inside her.

“Whoa, get a hold of yourself, honey,”
she muttered.

Too late; she couldn’t undo the mental
reliving of what they’d shared in his kitchen. She squeezed her eyes shut and
tried to push the images away, but instead, her breasts grew heavy and her sex
wet and empty feeling.

“Damn you, Brayden.”

She shut off the shower with her elbow,
then grabbed a towel hanging from the rack. Even while mad at him, she couldn’t
help but feel a wisp of pleasure that she was probably using his towel. She
entered the bedroom, found it empty, and her shoulders sagged. So maybe she’d
hoped he’d be naked and lying on the bed waiting for her. But, nope. No way was
she going to put her dirty clothes back on, so she walked barefoot with a towel
wrapped around at the tops of her breasts to her room. Inside the drawers, she
found he hadn’t packed everything. In fact, the only clothes he’d left were
skirts, dresses, and a few of her more sexy tops she’d bought. A smile curled
her lips at the thought of her flustering the big, bad Brayden. That had to be
it, had to be why he’d purposely not packed these clothes.

With a soft laugh, she pulled on a
blue-jean mini-skirt and a brown top that bared her shoulders and much of her
breasts. This kind of shirt actually made her glad she had small breasts
because it meant she didn’t have to wear a bra. The vee of the shirt fell way
low to the bottom of her breasts and two strings tied in the middle to sort of ‘hold
it all together’. She ran her fingers through her wet hair then checked herself
out in the bathroom mirror.

The skirt showed off her legs and the
shirt her arms and tits. Good, she hoped he’d drool, because she was wearing
this on their little trip tonight. It’s the least he deserved for being a cock
tease. A grin split her lips at the thought. Still barefoot, she treaded
downstairs and peered into the kitchen and dining room. Empty. Heading right,
she found him sitting on the leather couch. His gaze moved to her and she
stopped at the doorframe to lean against it, hooking her ankle over the other
and resting a hand at her hip.

“All ready,” she announced.

She wished he didn’t sit in the dark.
She could barely make out his eyes. She found it difficult enough to read his
expression when she could see his eyes, much less when she couldn’t. Goosebumps
popped up over her arms then traveled down her legs making her shiver. Had his
gaze just traveled over her?

“You shouldn’t wear that.” His deep
voice was made for wooing women over the radio or speaking naughty things into
a woman’s ears, things that’d make her drop her panties in a second. Vanessa
knew she would.

So her clothes
did
bother him.
She couldn’t help but smile. “Why not? It’s all I had left up there. I wasn’t
about to shiver my way down here and go through the bag you packed me for a
pair of jeans, ya know.”

“Come here.”

Her smile faltered as nerves jumped in
her stomach. “What?” Maybe it was the way he’d said it, like an order she must
obey, but she suddenly felt naked in front of him.

“Don't make me say it again, Vanessa.”
It couldn’t just be her ears, because his voice had lowered like a threat...or
a growl.

Even as her mind reeled to understand
what was happening or about to happen, her feet slapped softly against the bare
wood floor as she crossed to him. His figure became clearer, and once she made
it a few feet away from him, she could make out his eyes. The look in them
stopped her dead in her tracks, made her heart pound and she wasn’t even sure
why. She felt the urge to run hard and fast even knowing he’d catch her—or
especially
knowing he’d catch her.

His eyes smoldered penetrating heat. Her
barely-there clothing suddenly was very fitting as a bead of sweat formed at
the base of her neck.

“Come closer.” His deep voice rolled
over her like a crushing wave, forcing her to move with the wave and closer to
him. He sat with his knees bent, legs slightly apart, arms loose on his thighs,
but as she stepped that little bit closer, his hand moved wicked fast. He
snatched her by the wrist then tugged her forward.

Breathless, she stumbled until she stood
between his legs. Then she wasn’t breathless anymore. Her breaths came soft and
fast from her parted lips as his gaze traveled down to the valley of her
breasts. He saw the tie there and she could almost see the calculating look in
them figuring out how best to open it and bare a tit. Then his gaze traveled
lower, over her stomach muscles sucked in at his gaze, then down to her bare
legs and all the way to her toes. Even those curled under his gaze.

“What?” she asked on an airy breath.

His eyes trained on hers and she had to
lock her arms straight to keep from fidgeting. There was so much passion in his
eyes, so much heat, and all of it was trained on her. “You shouldn’t have worn
that, Vanessa.”

“Why?” she whispered. A tremble started
in her knees and she could only hope he didn’t notice. She didn’t want to look
like she didn’t know what she was doing, that she wasn’t experienced, even if
it was true.

“Come here.”

Sure, he’d completely ignored her
question, but she really didn’t care. Not when he looked at her like
that
.
Like it took every ounce of control inside him not to reach for her, not to
slam their bodies together and rush to ecstasy. Like she was something special,
the only woman who could make him feel like this.

At that look, she didn’t feel like the
inexperienced, never-experienced-an-orgasm-during-sex girl that she was. No,
she felt powerful, in charge, like Aphrodite or Helen of Troy. With a flick of
her finger, she could make any man bow to her.

So, she didn’t ‘come here’. Instead, she
reached up and tugged on the lace of her top that was keeping her breasts from
being completely bared, and tugged. His gaze swung to her breasts, then he
moved so fast she never saw it coming. One second, she was standing in front of
him, and the next, she was in his lap, legs spread on either side of his, his
face plastered against her chest.

Her breath caught, pulse pounded a rapid
beat. His tongue licked across her breast in a hungry swipe then wrapped around
her nipple, tugging her sensitive flesh into the heated recess of his mouth.
Arms banded around her, lips tugged and worked delicious, erotic movements on
her breast and his hands seemed to move all over. His touch reached everywhere—in
her hair, at her neck to massage for a moment, then down the span of her back
to her hips where his thumbs dug into the muscle by her hipbones. Warmth gushed
from her. She cried out and wrapped her arms around him.