...Am I Really That Bad?

“No.”

“No?” Reetha repeated, not surprised by the word coming from Rafe’s mouth as he hovered over her, but amazed he had the nerve to utter them when her knee was so close to his balls.

“That’s right, no.”

“I’m sure you’ve forgotten who you’re speaking to…” she growled, her nostrils flared and the rest of her body putting on the whole pre-shift show.  “…and are finding this would be a right good time for an apology.”

“Nope, it’s still a no.  I’ll go you one further, not without your mate.”

“My WHAT!  Oh no you don’t,” she huffed.  “I left my mate back in LA where his mangy, to long with the criminals, ass belongs.”

“Mangy!?”

“Yep.” She nodded.  “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you let criminal slide.”

“And now I’m a criminal?  Damn woman, I am your mate and I deserve some respect!”

“SAYS WHO!”

Rafe sighed and looked away, while still maintaining the up close and personal stance that perked her nipples to tight points.  “Alright, no one said that… but am I really that bad?” 

His last few words, mumbled as they were, took Reetha by surprise.  Could he really be unsure of his worth? And why did the thought of that bother her enough to throw him a small bone?  “Okay, maybe you aren’t mangy…in fact, you do dress very nicely, but I’m still going to that opening.”

Reetha pushed out from where he had her pinned against the wall of her office and turned away from his handsome face.  She couldn’t take much more of his heat and sheer sexual appeal.  She was a weak bitch when it came to this man, even though he could piss her off eight ways from Sunday.

“Penny is my friend and I’m not missing the opening night of her new club, now you can go.”

“Mate.” His hands gripped her hips as he pasted himself to her back.  A promise whispered into her ear. “If you go, prepare yourself for a VERY. PUBLIC. PUNISHMENT.”

Reetha jumped from the smack to her ass, suddenly warm in all the right, er wrong places and turned with a hiss.  Her claws were out and at the ready to deliver a good swipe, but he was already gone.
~~~

I meant to post this for Mon, but alas, Mon turned to Tues... :)

Have a great week!
Serena 

The Bar Without A Name...Yet!

Reetha wiped her forehead against her lower arm and went back to scrubbing the layers of grease from the unmaintained grill while raucous music pumped out front.  “Begone, foul grease!” she commanded, adding a touch of royal to her voice.  Yep, she could be queen of her own secret land, she’d call it Reethlandia.

Something called to her about this place.  She’d like to think it was the sturdy, albeit in need of some love, wood bar and custom carved stools—hey, her brother wasn’t the only one with a thing for wood.  However, she was willing to bet it was actually the memories of a misspent youth, drinking and partying with the bikers passing through town that spurred her decision to reopen the bar.

She’d started by getting the front room up and running—the booze in place and Porkers band available to rock & roll, but she needed additional acts and to get the kitchen in working order.  Beer drinkers loved their meat, especially the carnies around here.  Thus, her night being spent dragging the charcoal cleaning brick over this bad boy instead of partying with the leather clads that were stopping in.

“This reminds me of New Year’s…only then you were working hard and begging me to go deeper.  That is until I hit the right spot and your demands turned to cries of yes…”

“Fucking Lupa!” Reetha figured she’d jumped at least a foot in the air before turning to the tool, a damn sexy and beyond awesome in the sack tool, but a tool nonetheless. “How does a freaking ambulance chaser walk so quietly?  Was it your mama or daddy who had the touch of pussy in them?”

“Probably both, but then we can’t all have the Mississippi Leg Hound that runs in your genes, now can we.”

Reetha turned back to the grill and continued to scrub, waiting for the hate she’d built up for the damn wolf at her back to flair inside her.  Only, there was no hate to be found, just a longing, which pissed her off more than a little bit.

“What do you want, Rafe?”

“I’d heard you’d fixed up this old backwoods bar and I had to see it for myself.”

“Why?  We fucked at New Year’s, but that was weeks ago…shouldn’t you be gone by now?  I don’t know, maybe killing someone else’s love?”

“Low blow, Reetha.  You know I loved her too, in my own way.”

She did know that, but it didn’t change the fact that the dirt bags he worked and continues to work for, provided the death needle for her sweet deer. “Whatever.”

“We need to talk, mate.”

Reetha ripped off the yellow gloves keeping her hands from being abused and threw them on the counter before turning to face the rat bastard fate had thrown her together with.  “No, we really don’t.  Thanks for the fuck, go have a beer or get the hell out,” she said, moving around him and heading for her office.  He didn’t say another word, but watched her every step of the way.

When she shut the door the music became muted along with the thoughts of her mate on the other side.  It was a tough task, dismissing the pain and frustration she felt each time she saw her mate, but this time she engrossed herself in a task she’d been working diligently on over the last few weeks.

What the hell would she name her bar?
~~~

Have a wonderful weekend!

Serena

A Plan Goes Sideways...

A sexy start to the day!

Burgess came to—suddenly—and in fight mode. He tugged hard against the chains holding him to the table, but couldn’t move. Memories of last night were etched into his brain—pain, waste, and fear. 

He’d started the night at a cave rave three towns over where his job was to protect the boss’ lackey while the human filth dispensed Tranq like it was a fucking treat ¬¬ injectable candy. Four dead shifter teens was the result, teens not from Talbot’s Peak, but if they had been then maybe, just maybe, they’d still be alive.

With a sharp tug he once again tried to break the chains, giving up only when the door opened bringing in his partner on this job, and friend, Rafe, followed by their boss Mr. Crunkelton. “Let me out of these.” He shook the shackles.

“Now, now, Burgess,” Mr. C oozed, “That would be foolhardy of me, for sure.  It seems that my lovely concoction has an interesting effect on you.”

The portly human tapped at his tablet then turned it for Burgess to see.  It was video from the previous evening, a repeat of the unnecessary teen deaths, the verbal fight between him and the lackey and ultimately the part Burgess had no trouble remembering, even relishing, him breaking said lackey’s skinny neck.  The video went dark after that owing, he was sure, to the suddenly dead hands dropping it, camera side down, and Burgess’ size twelve combat boot stomping the shit out of it.  The tablet must have been set to stream to Mr. C’s device.  Sick bastard like to watch the deaths real-time, over and over again.

“So super-strength, Burgess?  Or is there another reason you can kill with such speed and precision?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”  Burgess jerked at the chains once again, this time jostling the table regardless of its legs being bolted to the floor. “You’ve got me locked up because you think I have super-strength?  Did you forget I was a Navy Seal?”

“Oh, I know, but even with that background the kill was fast…too fast.  Besides, I feel better knowing you’re contained until we figure out what happened.”

“Contained?  Really, Crunkelton, I could kill you twelve different ways while still contained.” 

Burgess couldn’t say he was surprised when the fat bastard pulled out a gun and aimed it at his head.  Humans always resorted to guns and most had no idea how to use them properly.

“Good point, perhaps I should just kill you now and be done with it.”

“Sure, you could…but, I know you won’t.”

“Really, why is that? I have the gun and it’s pointed at your head.  All I have to do is pull the trigger.”

“Yep, but you still haven’t asked me the real question you have. Go ahead, ask.”

Crunkelton grunted and Burgess could see the gun in his hand shake.

“Why did you run to the town of Talbot’s Peak?”

Burgess’ gut clenched as he thought of Penny, his hot domme, and love of his life.  He’d needed her to sooth the pain of watching those children die, he’d needed to wrap her around him and refresh his battered soul…he’d just plain needed her.  What he hadn’t expected to find was his woman with death surrounding her like a thin black veil. Now, in order to save her, he had to do the one thing he swore never to do.

“Well?” Crunkelton grunted. “Why there!”

He had to bring her into this world. “Word on the street is the hot piece of ass your ambulance chaser there stopped me from talking to is one hell of a Dominatrix.  Apparently, Talbot’s Peak has quite a scene going and I wanted to indulge.”

“You wanted to debase yourself for a shape-, er, she-, ah…woman?”

Burgess waited, hoping Crunkelton would finally slip and out his own knowledge of shapeshifters so they could start the end game of this plan, but he held on and covered his slip.  Now Burgess had to do the same…

“Submission, Crunkelton, is the ultimate strength.”
~~~

So this week it was Burgess' turn to share.  Whatever his plan is(it would sure be nice if they confided the plan with the author)...I hope he gets to Mistress P in time!

Have a great weekend!
Serena

Itchy & Scratchy Hit Talbot's Peak

Rafe slid into the POS he picked up at the airport in Billings and held his finger under his nose until he adjusted to the stink in the seat beside him.

“Took you long enough,” Tark grumbled, scratching anywhere he could reach.  “Shit, you’re supposed to keep me out of trouble like that, man.”

“Actually, my instructions were to ‘fix this mess.’” He pinned the dipshit with a glare that had scared the piss out of many of his other clients. “So that gives me quite a bit of leeway.”

“Dude, come on, Mr. C would be pissed if something happened to me and you know it.”  Scratch – scratch.

“He’d give me a big fat bonus and move on.”

“That’s harsh.” Itchy barked, “I’m his number one seller.”

“No, you’re not.” Rafe said as he started the car. “That honor goes to a dumb llama in San Diego.”

“Nah ah, I out sold that sweater fodder last month.” 

Rafe smirked as Tark’s scratching moved lower and became hard enough to risk permanent injury to little Tark and the Tarkettes.  “What’s wrong?” Though he already knew.  Reetha must have used her little vile of shifter itch — better known as fleas — on the sleazy coyote.

“I itch, man, bad.”

“I see.”

“No, lawyer man, you don’t…aaaah, shit this itches!”  

“Stop scratching and stay on your side of the car.”  As it was, Rafe was already scratching an itch under the collar of his expensive silk shirt.  “Dammit, Reetha,” He murmured.

“That bitch, I think she gave me fleas!”

Rafe slammed on the brakes, sending the weak-assed, FUBAR of an individual headlong into the dash of the car.

“Aaiyyeee!”

“You were saying?”

“Yu bok ma nos, ucker.”

“Slick roads.” Rafe hung a right at the next intersection and took the road leading into Talbot’s Peak knowing exactly where he needed to go.

##

“Whah ah eee?”

Rafe stopped at the door in the back alley, climbed out of the car and walked around to the passenger’s side.  He opened the door and pulled the whiny, flea infested drug dealer out by the scruff of his neck.  “Come on.”

“Auch, whah ah eee?”

The vet building in Talbot’s Peak had recently been renovated to include a desk at the back door for all the shifters in need of services who may not want to be seen getting fixed up rather than toughing out whatever ailed them.  His contact here in town kept him in the know even when Burgess could not.

“Well, hello there, good-looking.”  The backdoor receptionist smelled like prey to Rafe, which meant she was probably an adrenaline junkie bunny.

“Mated.”

“Of course you are, shoot.  Okay, what does this mess need?”

“Aa, he ice u itch!”

“He needs a flea dip and to have the nose fixed…maybe with lots of tape.”

“Wha, nuu, assho!”

Two oxen shifters came to escort FUBAR to the shower area and Rafe couldn’t help but smirk. Those two would get the job done and no doubt it would include a couple of stiff bristled brushes and a fair amount of skin loss.  “How long before I can pick him back up?”

“Give us three hours at least,” the bunny schmoozed. “And here…”

Rafe looked at the bottle of flea dip shampoo and back at the bunny. 

“It will save you a trip to the pet store.  I could, you know, wash your back…or something.”  She winked as she twirled the bottle.

“Thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle. “But no.”

Rafe left the vet and pulled out his phone.

FLEAS, REALLY?  YOU OWE ME, MATE.  I’M AT THE TALBOT’S PEAK INN, ROOM 202.  RIGHT NEXT DOOR AS IT WERE AND I NEED SOMEONE TO WASH MY BACK.  30 MINUTES.

Rafe sent the text, knowing she wouldn’t come and it made him smile.  He adored her hard ass exterior more because he knew the beauty of her mushy insides…

DO YOU HAVE ROCKS FOR BRAINS?   
FRAG YOU!

DO YOU REALLY NEED HELP…NO!

AND NO BUNNY SMELLS EITHER!  I’LL EAT THEM IF I SMELL IT…I WILL.

…and her wild emotional texting habit.

EAT THEM, HUH, THAT COULD BE FUN… he responded

GRRR…LEAVE ME ALONE!

~~~
 Huh, I wonder if Reetha will eventually share her little shifter itch with her two adorable nephews and just who they might use it on?  :D

So the cars packed up, my iPod's full of driving tunes and I'm getting ready to haul it to my next stop on my Candlelight Book Promo's  blog tour.  Today's stop is Clutter Your Kindle, something I greatly enjoy doing!  Stop by and say hi and find your next sexy read.  :)

Have a great weekend!

Serena

Friends, Lovers and Mated Seals... Hooyah!

It had been a week since they’d brought Tark into the pleasure club for questioning and Reetha was tired.  No matter what she and Dante tried this ass-packet would not break.  She’d considered going in initially and acting like his friend, warning him of Dante’s wrath, but when it came to this skeeze her skills were no longer that good.

“You ready to try again?”

Reetha stopped trying to hold up the wall and looked back at Dante. “No, but we need too.  Everything okay with Ewan?”

“With Ewan – yes, with this entire situation – no.”

“Has something happened, Dante?”

“A skilled hunter has come to town, with a band of wannabe’s in their cute little mystery machine and my sire is making monsters.  I’d be willing to bet the designer drug, Tranq, is a part of his evil genius as well.  Damn, what I wouldn’t give for some peace.”

“Yeah.”  Reetha sighed, dreaming of one or two nights of peaceful pleasure spent here at the club.  Bound and free from the overwhelming guilt of failing everyone she loved.

“Chin up, love.  This too shall pass.”

She smiled at the wolf who was without a doubt the best friend she’d had since Ziva in her youth. 
“You know we need to read Nick in on this soon.”

“I do, but I hate the thought since Ziva’s now pregnant.  He’s snarly at the best of times when it comes to his mate, but now he’s got a hair trigger.  Time with this guy will not help that.”

“True, but he’s scary and he’d already stumped Tark’s tail before you got to them…”

Dante laughed. “That he did and now that there’s a hunter in town gunning for your dad among others, we need more help”

“Pops is still tough, but giving him a heads up would be a good idea.”

“We will.  Now, did this lowlife take the bait?”

“Sure did.  He grabbed the phone when we tussled couple a days ago.  There would have been just enough battery life for him to make one phone call.”

“Let’s go see who he reached out too.”

##

Rafe Silva had caught his mate’s scent the moment he’d entered the pleasure club and it had taken everything in him to hold his wolf back.  Now she was entering the room and he needed to use all of his seal training to keep some space between them. 

“So Tark are you…”

He knew the exact moment she realized he was here as she turned towards where he stood behind the door.  Agony, so clear in her eyes, beat at him.  Losing Jilly forced her to flee and instead of coming to him, she’d run far away.  Well he’d lost that sweet deer too.  And even though Reetha had been the main thing they’d had in common, he still had tender feelings for the woman who shared a bed with him and his mate.

“You!  He called you!  I should have known one rat bastard would call the King Daddy of rat bastards.”

“Ah Reetha, I prefer Sir, but if you want to give Daddy a try I guess I can be accommodating.”

“What the…” “Hell!” “Gaaa!”

Everything happened at once as goatfucks were wont to do.  Dante led with a confused question, Tark swore and banged his head and Reetha came at him only to be pulled back, by another pissed off alpha, before she made contact.

“Whoa there, love.”

Rafe’s wolf got the better of him at Dante’s term of endearment along with the arms surrounding his mate and he issued a mean growl – a warning to the other man.  Dante in turn growled and shoved Reetha behind him.

“Who is this, Reetha?”

“No one, lover,” she oozed, her arm around the other wolf’s middle – fingers toying with his abs.
“Just another lowlife lawyer.”

Rafe willed himself not to react further as he studied the couple before him.  Dante was good at hiding the emotions in his eyes, but he couldn’t quite contain the flinch as Reetha’s fingers pass over him.  His body language screamed that he belonged to another.

“To right you are Ms. McMahon and as such I am taking my client from this place, which is clearly not a police station.”

“We’re not done with your, client,” Dante sneered.

“Yes, you are.  Anything further can be directed to me…Reetha knows the number.”

Rafe directed Tark from the room, closing the door on his mates raggedly wailed “BASTAR….”

##

Outside the pleasure club, Rafe pushed the beaten up waste of space pusher into his car and told him in no uncertain terms to stay put before stepping away and placing his call.

“What?”

The slap of skin on skin, followed by giggles told him all he needed to know about where is friend currently was.  “Aren’t you supposed to be working?  Not indulging in a round of slap and tickle?  And to that point, if it is a little S & T why the hell answer the phone?”

“One moment…Stooly, get in here and cover for me…okay, okay.”  Rafe listened to mumbled threats about not looking and keeping quiet before the sound of a door shutting and a pissed off penguin filled his ear.  “I blame you, fuckhead.”

“Burge…”

“Don’t Burge me.  This guy is a freak, and not some nice loveable one either.  But you knew that already.  Damn Rafe.”

“You’re the only one I could trust with this.”

“We had a lot of buddies in the teams…”

“But you and I were the only shifters.”

“Shit.”

He knew exactly how Burgess felt.  This op felt never fucking ending and it was getting in the way of their relationships with their mates.  “I need you back here.”

“Tell that to the freak.”

“I intend to.  Be ready.”

“What’s going on?”

“The Tranq worked and I was called to Talbot’s Peak.” Rafe once again looked to the self-satisfied knob contaminating his car.  “To save the douchebag.”

“Shit!”

“Exactly.”

~~~

 Have a splendid weekend & keep warm!


Serena