Shelly Laurenston: Go Fetch

“I so won.”

He wanted to play that game? Fine.

She smiled. “So you think you won?”

“I know I did. I love you. You love me. And I get to keep ya.”

Miki nodded. “Did I ever tell you that the FBI has a corkboard with my picture on it? Actually, it has me, Amy, Craig, Kenny Liu, and Ben. And our pictures are in this pyramid shape, but I’m at the top. I heard the agents throw darts at it.” His smile slipped a little. “The CIA still calls me every six months to ask me if I want to work at their…and I’m quoting…‘labs’. They never get very specific, but you’ve seen the kind of stuff I can create so do the math. And there are several states in this country that I’m not really allowed in for…ya know…ever. And for the next forty or fifty years you’ll be busy trying to stop me from saying something rude or inappropriate, or you’ll be trying to stop someone from killing me because of something rude or inappropriate that I said that you didn’t stop me from saying.” She grinned. “So tell me, baby. What exactly did you win?”

Sure. He could have gone for a nice, normal girl. Or at least a girl who could shift into something other than human. But no, he had to fall in love with Miki Kendrick. Hacker. Scientist. Nut case. Great lay.

His mate.

The woman who would be driving him crazy for the rest of his natural-born life—if he were lucky. She smiled at him. And he realized she was as much a Viking as he was. No wonder she saw through his bullshit. Nope, he was getting just what he deserved. Who knew the gods liked him that much?

“Whatever. Let’s fuck.” He moved toward her and she backed away from him.

“First some ground rules.”

He growled. “Such as?”

“I don’t make breakfast. I don’t clean. I don’t involve myself in any clubs or associations that use the word mommy on their letterhead. At some point I’ll actually know what I want to do career-wise which means the demon spawn I’m breeding will be pretty much yours to deal with until he or she is sixteen. By then they’re ready for the SATs and that’s when I step in. Now, of course I’ll talk to him or her before then if I must. And no, this deal does not involve breast milk. I’ll make sure to take care of that myself. Now, of course, this is all subject to change if their IQ is higher than 140. Then I’m on deck when they’re five. After the baby is born, we can discuss marriage. But I’m not changing my name and the word obey will not be used in the ceremony.”

“Is that it?”

She smiled. Yup. There it was. A big ol’ Viking grin. “If I stay, I want a concealed weapons permit. And good luck with that since I’m sure all my federal friends will be fighting you tooth and nail on that one.” Her smile softened. And it was a smile for him and him alone. “And I do love you, Viking. Just don’t try and use it against me.”

Yeah. He was definitely the luckiest man in the world. “Now are you done?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He proceeded to untie his boots, tug them off, and toss them across the room. She watched him for a good while before she finally said anything.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting naked.” He pulled his T-shirt over his head, then he moved to his jeans.

“Why?” She backed away from him, a smile threatening to spread across her beautiful face.

“So I can have my filthy, dirty, Viking way with you.” He kicked his jeans away. “So I can keep everybody awake all night and show ‘em how you’re a screamer.” He walked toward her, and she slammed up against the nightstand. “So I can make you come and come and come until you don’t even remember your name.”

“That’s a hell of a plan.” Cool. She was panting again. He loved when she did that.

“I like it.” He stood in front of her. “Now here are my ground rules.”

Miki tore her eyes away from his cock to look him in the eye, her arms again crossing in front of her chest. “Which are?”

“When we’re in here. You’re naked. I don’t care if we’re ninety. You’re naked.”

“I don’t—”

“Did I argue during your ground rules? Quiet.”

She fell silent, but not before growling.

“Back off Zach. He’s the Alpha Male, my best friend, and my brother. So no telling him to go fetch unless he started it.”

“But he—”

Conall covered her mouth with his hand. “Not. A. Word.” She rolled her eyes and glared. “I expect you to always have two pairs of those pumps you had in Seattle. The heel is to be no less than five inches. One pair red and one pair black. They’ll only be used in here. And you’ll be naked. Also, I make the bed every morning, but feel free to sniff it whenever you feel the need. And don’t get too attached to any of your clothes. Because if they’re not off when we get in here, I’m ripping them off. And I really like ripping them off. Because I like you naked.”

She pulled his hand away from her mouth. “Anything else, Viking?”

“Just one thing.” He pulled her crossed arms apart and stepped into her body. He kissed her neck, her shoulder, her chin. Then he lifted her up. Automatically, her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck. She dug her hands into his hair and pushed her small body up against his. She stared into his eyes and smiled. A smile that was for him and him alone.

“No matter where we are. No matter where we go. Or where we end up. That you always…and I mean always, Miki Kendrick…” he leaned in close, “…make sure our freezer has cherry ice pops.”

Miki burst out laughing as Conall carried her to their bed.

She forced her eyes open. Her head throbbed. Her back hurt. She felt pain in her arms and her knees. She sat up, slowly, and kept her eyes turned away from the French windows that had bright morning light streaming through them.

She waited until she felt like she could look around without throwing up, then she took in the room. It was beautiful. Gorgeous furnishings. Hardwood floor. Soft bed with a steel frame. This room alone must have cost a pretty penny to furnish. Gold silk sheets with a frighteningly high thread count covered her naked body.

The bedroom door stood open and she wondered whether she should make a run for it. She was pretty sure, though, that she’d start vomiting as soon as she stood up. But she wasn’t too worried. Her wounds were dressed. Her body cleaned. The last thing she remembered was something, a lot of somethings, coming out of the trees by her store and charging her. They had resembled dogs almost, but she really didn’t know. She remembered going for her gun, then something from behind…tackled her? And that was the last thing she remembered.

She rubbed her temples and tried to piece together the last few hours. That’s when she heard it. It wasn’t a growl. Or a roar.

It was a purr.

Angelina Santiago looked back at the bedroom door and watched a six hundred pound tiger walk by. It stopped. She could still see its tail swinging slowly from side to side. Then it backed up, turning its majestic head to look at her. And she looked at it. She patiently waited for the fear to set in. And the pure unadulterated panic that comes with it. Then it shifted and spoke.

“Well. Hello, sugar.”

Angie let out a cross between a sigh and a breath. “Oh, shit…”