Read Walk on the Striped Side Online
Authors: Jessie Lane
Walk on the Striped Side |
Big Bad Bite [2] |
Jessie Lane |
Jessie Lane (2014) |
Does he have his claws in her for good? Or is she just yanking his tail?
Elena Demos’s life has been turned upside down. Her mother has passed away, leaving Elena and her two half-sisters to deal with their mother’s will and the crazy stipulations it contains. For the three sisters to inherit the substantial amount of money left behind, they have to go to work with two aunts they’ve never met, in the family business they’ve known nothing about, Amazons Inc. If that isn’t bad enough, she runs into the man who once broke her heart, and it’s only their first day on the job.
Gage Ivanov is a stupid beast. He let the woman who should be his mate go because she couldn’t be told of his Other identity. Now, Elena’s back, but she refuses to give in to his demands for her to be his mate. The timing for all of this couldn’t be worse, either, because Gage and his circle of friends are trying to subdue a rogue pack of wolf shifters in Germany who threaten to out the Others to the world of humans. Will he be able to juggle the oncoming conflict and win back his mate?
Claws have never been this sexy.
Jessie Lane
Walk On
The
Striped Side
Big Bad Bite Series #2
by
Jessie Lane
Edited by C&D Editing
Cover Art by Jessie Lane
Published by Jessie Lane
Copyright © 2014 by Jessie
Lane
The purchase of this e-book allows
you one legal copy for your own personal reading enjoyment on your personal
computer or device. You do not have the rights to resell, distribute, print, or
transfer this book, in whole or in part, to anyone, in any format, via methods
either currently known or yet to be invented, or upload to a file sharing peer
to peer program. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Such
action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. If you would like
to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for
each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was
not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own
copy. If you no longer want this book, you may not give your copy to someone
else. Delete it from your computer. Thank you for respecting the hard work of
this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products
of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Dedication
To my author wives: Chelsea
Camaron
,
Amelia Hutchins and
Milly
Taiden
,
Thank you for all of your love and support. I consider myself
a blessed woman to have met all three of you and have you in my life. Here’s
hoping we have many years of friendship to look forward to! XOXO, C
Acknowledgements
First and foremost I’d like to
thank our readers. It’s because of you that I’m able to write my crazy stories
and live my dream. So THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart.
This book was a lot of ups and downs
and my beta readers were the absolute back bone of getting it done. Thank you
Laura at Little
Read
Riding Hood, Chelsea
Camaron
and Iris at Paranormal Cravings for all of your
hard work! I’d offer you my first born as a token of my appreciation, but you
all would just ship her back to me anyways.
And, as always, thank you to the
ladies of C&D Editing who polish my literary babies until they shine.
Readers everywhere (and myself) appreciate you kicking my grammatical ass so to
speak.
March 2010 - Fort Bragg Army Base, North Carolina
Gage
“What do you mean I can’t pick up
my weapon?”
Gage Ivanov was in no mood to be
fucked with by the woman looking blankly back at him from the other side of the
desk that separated them. One would think he’d be in a better mood. He’d
finally caught up on some desperately needed sleep after being awake 48 hours
for a mission. This was not the case. If anything, he felt as if he was
approximately 3.2 seconds from flipping his shit. Which would involve tearing
the door off of the Fort Bragg Military Police’s inner sanctum, stalking past
the annoying female with a tantalizing scent that was starting to drive him
insane, and collecting his Heckler & Koch MK 23 his damn self from the
evidence room. Screw the harpy for saying he couldn’t have his issued side arm
back.
Taking a deep breath to try and
battle his building anger, he blew it out slowly and decided to give the feeble
human another chance before he did something drastic. Like pin her to a wall
and kiss the ever living shit out of her.
Whoa.
Gage rubbed his forehead and
wondered where the hell that crazy thought had come from? That idea was flat
out ridiculous. He must be loopy still from lack of sleep. He’d probably meant
that he’d pin her to the wall and scare the shit out of her. Not kiss her.
Yeah. That sounded better.
Shaking his head to clear the crazy
thoughts, he looked back to the female. Through his frustration he had to
admit, she was unconventionally pretty. Most humans were short to his six foot
five inch frame, but she seemed tall for her race. When she’d led him back to
her desk to question him, past the front counter shielded by bulletproof glass
that she’d greeted him at, he’d sized her up to be somewhere around five feet
nine inches. She would be close to the perfect fit to rest his chin on the top of
her head if he was holding her. However, she looked a bit on the thin side, and
he usually liked women with ample curves. Some body parts should jiggle dammit.
But at least she wasn’t anorexic skinny. More like athletically built. Next to
his broad, brawny build she’d look downright tiny in size. Dressed in her
camis
, with her brown hair so dark it almost looked black,
it was pulled back in a tight bun on the back of her head. Between the dark
hair, the slightly olive tinged skin complexion, and her narrow almost aquiline
nose, she more than likely had a Mediterranean background. Perhaps Italian or
Greek.
He quickly noted that she had quite
possibly the prettiest blue green eyes he’d seen in all of his two hundred and
sixty-two years. Amazing eyes or no amazing eyes, nothing would stop him from
giving her a dressing down that could go down in this Army’s history books if
she didn’t hurry the hell up and give him back his weapon. He had better things
to do with his time right now. Like sleep some more. Or make the short drive
home so he could hunt down a deer on his property. Shifting into his tiger and
using his claws and teeth to eat dinner sounded kind of perfect to assuage his
bad mood.
The last time he’d been this mad at
another soldier had been during the Russo-Persian War of 1804-1813. Back then
he’d damn near torn apart a Commanding Officer of the Infantry with his claws
for a tactical error that could have cost them the battle and too many men to
count. Usually, Tigers were either too lazy or just didn’t care enough to get
involved or get mad about something. But this female, with her clenched jaw and
stubborn lines set around that mouth he couldn’t seem to stop looking at, was
testing him. He looked down to her name tag stitched on to the front of her uniform
to see just who the hell he was dealing with.
DEMOS.
The three stripes on her uniform
also gave him her rank. “Look Sergeant Demos, I’m sure it was a simple mistake.
My team just came in from a mission, we were all dog tired, and I probably left
it on the Black Hawk, right? Although I don’t remember taking it out of my
holster. I know it’s not acceptable to leave one’s weapon lying around, but
let’s see how well you function after not catching some shut eye for two days.
Let’s just say I’ve learned my lesson. It’ll never happen again. Now, give me
whatever paperwork I need to sign saying that you’re relinquishing the weapon
back into my possession and then hand my weapon over.”
He flicked his fingers, palm side
up and open, in a ‘hand it over’ gesture as he stared across the desk, trying
to look as if he were patiently waiting. If he were hunting for his dinner,
then patiently waiting would be fine. Otherwise, it was something he didn’t
care to bother with. Why wait patiently for something when you could just flash
a little fang and scare your opponent into giving you whatever it is you want?
Except he couldn’t flash his canines here. And that only pissed him off more.
When the female continued to sit stiff backed in her chair and stare at him
like he was a moron, he felt his claws prick the insides of his skin. Begging
to be released and do something to relieve his agitation. He had to hurry up
and get the hell out of here. Snarling a little, he snapped at her. “If that
simple task is in in some way, shape, or form too complicated for you to
perform Sergeant, then perhaps your CO should send you back to your AIT school
to re-take your training courses. Maybe while you’re there you can learn how to
do something more complicated than annoying the shit out of your superiors.”
The scent of extreme anger rolled
off the brunette. He really could care less that he’d made her mad. No, what
was really starting to bother him was that the smell of her pissed off was even
more appealing to him than the way she’d smelled before. Since he was currently
battling the overwhelming urge to either go furry or sex her up as if he was
hopped up on Viagra, it just irked him that this little human could do anything
that would make him want her more than he already did.
The sound of her teeth grinding
drew his attention back to those plump lips that were currently flattened into
a thin line of irritation. “Sir, I cannot return your pistol to you because it
has been formally confiscated pending an investigation. Your issued Heckler
& Koch MK 23 was found in Major General Fetherman’s daughter’s bedroom.”
The irritated woman held three fingers up and practically shoved them into his
face. “Which means one of three possibilities. Either Ms. Fetherman managed to
get into a secure area so that she could have access to the Black Hawk and
found your gun there. Or, number two, you didn’t head straight to your premises
for that shut eye you claimed to have been so desperate for. Instead, you met
Ms. Fetherman somewhere and she took your weapon from you while you were
otherwise pre-occupied since you don’t remember taking it out of your holster.
One can only imagine what the two of you were doing that you would be so
distracted for her to be able to procure your weapon without you having noticed.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him in disgust. “Or, the third possibility is that
perhaps you went to Major General Fetherman’s residence to meet with his
daughter in her room where you accidentally left your weapon. Would you care to
clarify which of these three scenarios is correct?” That dainty eyebrow came
back down so she could shoot him a condescending look before she grudgingly
added “Sir” onto the end of her rant. It was clear as day that she’d loathed
giving him even that little bit of respect, and had done it only to keep her
ass out of trouble.
Never mind how good she looked, or
that she smelled like sex on a stick, he was going to bend this arrogant young
woman over his lap and paddle her ass for talking to a higher ranking soldier
like that. For talking to
him
like that. His tiger was going nuts
underneath his skin. The need to exert his dominance over her, to show her just
who the fuck was in charge here, was riding him hard. Harder than ever before.
Which bothered him. Combine that with the insane urge to show her who the
bigger predator was caused a niggling suspicion that there was more going on
here than good old fashioned annoyance or the need to lose himself in a warm
willing body.
Sucking on his teeth in extreme
agitation he opted for denial. There was absolutely no way that this woman
could be a possible mate. Surely fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to try and pair
him off with a fragile human that could be easily killed. He wasn’t entirely
sure, but the signs of compatibility were there. The natural pheromones to
attract one mate to the other. His Tiger going wild inside of him.
He was going to choose to think
that those pesky coincidences didn’t mean shit. Even better, he was going to
ignore those signals in the name of self-preservation. He’d never wanted a
human for a mate in the past, and that wasn’t changing over an intoxicating
scent, a pair of unusually pretty eyes, and the need to fuck a better attitude
into her. Nope, he’d rather be mate-less. Or settle for a mate that both his
human and beast’s side didn’t crave with a dangerous intensity. He would rather
find a mate they could grow to care for, and who would be something much
sturdier than this very breakable human.
Since he wasn’t paying attention to
her at the moment, he only distantly heard her say, “Helllllloo… Master
Sergeant Ivanov? Are you sure you want to stick to that story about getting
some sleep? Because you don’t seem to be all there upstairs to me.” Delicate
fingers snapped in front of his face a couple of times, bringing his attention
back to the object of his thoughts. As he looked at her impatient face he made
a silent vow to himself. Mate possibility or no, if the disagreeable woman
didn’t stop antagonizing him, he was going to break every unspoken rule in the
supernatural
Other
community and unleash
his claws on her backside. As his eyes zeroed in onto the unconscious nervous
movement of the tip of her pink tongue swiping over her bottom lip, Gage
thought.
Claws and a good pop on the ass ought to scare some respect into
her
.
***
Elena
Was this what a gazelle felt
like when it knows it’s being watched by the lion?
Master Sergeant Ivanov had insanely
gorgeous green eyes with an inner ring of gold around the pupil. They were in
equal parts entrancing and frightening. And Elena could make that statement
with absolute certainty because those eyes were now focused on her. The eerie
intensity from his gaze damn near had her looking for a different desk to hide
under. Normally she wouldn’t even think about backing down from a confrontation.
In her line of work as an Army MP you had to have giant brass balls to boss
around men who were twice your body mass with the trained ability to kill
someone with their bare hands. And according to everyone in her unit, her
sisters, and even her mother, Elena had some of the biggest, shiniest brass
balls known to mankind.
Although he wasn’t technically that
much taller than her, just half a foot or so, his breadth and intensity were
overwhelming. Frankly, he looked like a linebacker on steroids. Knowing that he
worked for one of the Special Forces Teams also meant that he could kill her
with scarier things than just his bare hands. He could probably kill her with a
Kleenex. Which was wrong. And a tad scary. Maybe a little cool too. She didn’t
have a choice here though. She had to stand firm with him. It wasn’t her fault
that he was displaying his suicidal tendencies by messing around with the Major
General’s daughter. If he was dumb enough to leave his duty weapon in her room
after getting him some, then he should deal with the consequences.
Now, as he sat on the other side of
that desk, watching her much like she imagined Ted Bundy had watched his future
victims, she decided to display her own suicidal tendencies and push him a
little bit further. Leaning towards him a bit, to give him a false sense of
intimacy and confidentiality, she lowered her voice so that no one else might
hear what she was saying. “Look, I get it. I’ve seen Major General Fetherman’s
daughter. She’s a hot little thing. Bottle blonde hair, teeny tiny bikini body
with fake breasts big enough to make a porn star jealous. I heard she has a
reputation for entertaining a few soldiers too. Just admit it. You came off
your mission and needed to release some of that adrenaline you Spec Ops guys
seem to carry in mass quantities. After you were done with her, you
accidentally forgot your duty weapon. No big deal.”
Sliding a blank piece of paper and
pen across the desk towards him, she ignored the way his focus on her seemed to
intensify, and whispered. “Just write all that down for me and this can be over
with. I’ll give you back your duty weapon and you can get the hell out of here.
I’m sure you’d rather be planning your next rendezvous with her than sitting
here with me.”
Ivanov sat there, staring at her
like he was imaging all the ways he could hide her body when he was done
torturing her. She didn’t flinch under his gaze, or shrink back like some
wilting violet. Elena held her ground and waited him out. Soon he would grow
tired of all of this circumstance and just give her what she wanted. Of course,
she had to wonder if he was really dumb enough to believe her when she said
that if he confessed, all of this would just go away. Oh no. If he confessed,
he’d be busted down in rank and pay, stationed in some shithole as far away
from the woman in question as possible. Like Antarctica. And he’d be lucky if
he ever saw the light of day at a civilized base again.
After watching Ivanov sit there and
stare at her for what felt like a century, he finally moved. Slowly leaning in
towards her. Their faces were now only inches apart. So close she could feel
his short rapid breathing through his nose as it brushed her face. For the
first time since the man walked into her building, all of the hairs on the back
of her neck stood on end. That scary focus of his amazing green gold eyes
lasered right in on her own eyes, when his voice rumbled. “You’ve got it all
wrong.”