A. Arthur - Shifter's Claim

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“He doesn’t know,” she replied almost instantly. “I mean, I’ll tell him when I have more to go on.”

Bas didn’t like that response any more than he liked the quick flash of lust that speared through him as his gaze dropped to the smooth mocha-toned skin between the mounds of her breasts.

“Come, I’ll take you home,” he said, standing. Reaching into his pocket he removed some bills from their gold clip and dropped them onto the table. He needed to get away from her before he did something he somehow knew he would regret.

She looked startled, then deflated. “I don’t need you to take me home. I can get there on my own.”

“I’m sure you can,” Bas said, once again taking her elbow as she stood and moved from the booth. It was a mistake to touch her, the searing heat at the connection a stark reminder of that fact. Bas frowned. “But I’ll take you anyway.”

He liked touching her, a lot. She wasn’t pulling away physically but was holding herself just out of reach mentally. He didn’t know why that appealed to him.

Once outside she turned to him, a slight temper surfacing. “Look, thank you for the drink and thank you for not doing whatever it is you do with people who try to contact Mr. Reynolds that maybe shouldn’t. I even appreciate you listening to my ramblings about work. But really, I don’t know you well enough to let you take me home and as I stated before I’m not interested in having sex with you.”

After a nod of his head to the valet who had immediately come into view as they’d exited the hotel, Bas returned his attention to Priya.

“First, you know my name is Sebastian Perry and that if I really meant you some harm I would have done it while I had you in that hallway alone. Second, by your synopsis of the current violence going on in this city, you know it’s a lot safer to have me escort you home at this time of night than it is for you to hop in a cab and get there on your own. And third, you didn’t say you weren’t interested in having sex with me, you said you didn’t sleep with men for a story.”

As she opened her mouth to reply an SUV pulled up to the curb. Bas opened the back door for her and waited for her to get in.

“You think you’re so smooth,” she quipped, coming closer to the door.

“What do you think?” he asked, loving the way that red dress hugged every one of her delectable curves, the material blowing alluringly against her bare legs in the slight night breeze.

She stood right in front of him then, her high heels almost bringing them eye to eye. “I think you may have a slightly overinflated ego,” she stated decisively. Then added, “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

Bas smiled and watched as she climbed into the car. Her ass was firm and plump and he remembered with startling clarity how it felt pressed against his still burgeoning arousal. “No, that’s not a bad thing at all,” he mumbled as he climbed into the backseat after her. “Not bad at all.”

Forty-five minutes later, after Bas had warned Priya one more time to drop the foolish story of cat men, he was back in his suite. Rome, who was formerly the East Coast Faction Leader but had recently been elected the Assembly Leader, had rented him a suite. Actually he’d rented each of the three Faction Leaders a suite in the hotel where the fund-raiser for President Reed was being held. As a whole, the Assembly had agreed that this human was the best presidential candidate. Not only had he made terrific strides in his first four years in office, but they were confident that the next four years would prove even more effective. President Reed’s grandmother was from Colombia, a fact that Rome also thought could work to their advantage should they ever need backup in the human world. Bas wasn’t 100 percent certain the president would take their side based on that connection alone, but he stood behind the Assembly Leader wholeheartedly.

He’d known Rome much too long not to stand behind him. At some point in their lives all of the Faction Leaders had shown their loyalty to one another as well as to the Assembly. They weren’t about to stop now.

That’s why Bas now stood at the window looking out onto the D.C. night, holding his cell phone to his ear. A second later there was an answer on the other end and Bas spoke a simple phrase. “We may have a problem.”

Chapter 3

Pain seared through her so intensely Priya was jerked from her sleep, sitting up straight in the center of her bed. Her breathing was erratic, sweat drenching her forehead as she lifted a hand to her chest and slid the other between her legs.

All night long, she thought with a sigh, closing her eyes and remembering the all-too-vivid dreams she’d endured. He’d touched her, kissed her, taken her like no man had ever taken her before. And he’d done it with that sexy-as-hell grin on his face as if he’d known just how good he was giving it to her. Priya wanted to scream. Not because—opening one eye to peek at the clock on her nightstand—it was zero-dark-thirty, but because with all he’d done to her in her dreams she still felt like she was about to explode with pent-up desire.

Frustrated and horny as hell, she tossed off the sheets, mumbling as she jerked open the top drawer of her nightstand and pulled out an old friend. Celibacy had begun immediately after the breakup with Jonathan who had been a really nice financing director at the used-car dealership where she’d gone to purchase a newer vehicle. They’d dated for approximately three weeks while he’d worked on the financing for her car. Then one night he’d shown up at her apartment with roses and a bottle of wine. He ordered Chinese food and they sat in candlelight—even though the only two candles she had in the house were mismatched, one from Christmas and the other something fragrant from the grocery store. It had been sweet and they’d topped off the night with sex—first with Jonathan on top, then with her bringing it home. “It” being the climax that had almost completely knocked Jonathan out, but had left Priya feeling a little bereft.

The next morning Jonathan awoke her with the bad news—she hadn’t been approved for the car, and oh, he wasn’t interested in seeing her again. Jerk!

Now, just about a year later she could go almost a few weeks without thinking about the sex she refused to allow herself, but only a couple of hours cursing the male population in general. Last night, after being with “him,” she felt like all the cards she’d stacked so neatly in the lovely card castle of her dreams had come crashing down.

With a huff she lay back against her pillows, the small vibrator in one hand while her other arm lifted to fall over her eyes. She hadn’t resorted to this in months, hadn’t been so desperate for any type of relief that she thought she might actually scream in frustration in far too long. Normally when the urge struck she’d go to the gym, which didn’t really work out for her since that type of physical exertion had never really been her forte. It was after the gym when she went to the ice cream shop on the corner—whose great idea had it been to put an ice cream shop about ten feet from the gym’s entrance anyway?—that she really found her bliss.

This morning she didn’t think cake batter ice cream mixed with waffle cone pieces was going to do the trick.

Pulling up her nightgown she cursed once more, all but saying his name but refusing as if it were some type of omen. Her finger pushed the ON button so hard she thought she may have broken the handheld device, but the low hum assured her it was ready and able to perform the task. She lifted her legs so that her knees were touching, then let them fall, not so gracefully, to the sides, bringing the heels of her feet together. Pushing her panties to the side because she was too irritated to simply pull them off, she placed the silver-topped apparatus to the throbbing hood between her legs and made a low humming sound that almost matched the toy’s as it made the connection. No lubricant had been needed since her dreams had excited her sufficiently.

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