Freakn' Shifters Bundle (3-in-1) (35 page)

Playing the card game, Asshole—which still made them giggle just as energetically as it did when they were kids—with Mitchell, Naomi along with whomever wasn’t out searching for the hunter got tedious after a while. But, Francine couldn’t deny that even as she missed Alejandro, she enjoyed spending time with Mitchell, the boy she remembered now a man with the same temper and twisted set of morals that let him cheat at cards, but think that his sister’s BFF was off limits.

Or used to be off limits. True to his word, he’d not left her presence since her injury the previous morning, sleeping by her side, grumbling that she kicked in her sleep. His family took his presence as a given, not saying a word, which surprised Francine given his family weren’t the types to curb their tongues. It seemed everyone assumed he’d taken his rightful spot. Francine might have thought it too except for one thing; he didn’t say or do anything to make her think his newfound glued to her side status was permanent. Which really sucked.

She wanted to think he’d turned the corner when it came to his thinking of her, that he’d forgotten his idiotic obsession with treating her as his sister. Hard to pretend, though, when he did nothing to convince her that he saw her in a romantic light. He’d not tried a repeat of his kiss—not once—even though she’d woken a few times with his face mere inches from her, his eyes studying her intently as if she puzzled him. Yet, despite his lack of action, she could see the hunger in his gaze, and she caught him adjusting himself when he thought she wasn’t looking, obviously aroused. She loved that she could cause such a reaction, hope blossoming that she’d finally get what her heart had forever desired.

However…even as she exulted over their burgeoning closeness, she worried about Alejandro and missed him. Funny how in his short time, he’d managed to snag a portion of her heart. Odder still how she saw nothing wrong with caring so strongly for another man while in bed with the one she’d always loved.
Naomi’s right, I am a skank.
One who wasn’t getting laid, unfortunately.

“What’s got you looking so down, Red?” Mitchell asked, tweaking a curl, employing his new nickname for her.

What would he say if she said she needed some naked loving? Probably dive out of the window if past incidences were any indication. Maybe she should keep her lusty needs to herself. “Has anyone heard from Jag?” she asked.

“Nope, and I say good riddance to that. Maybe the alley cat’s slunk back home.”

Mitchell just couldn’t resist the barbs about Alejandro. She elbowed him and he grunted. “Alejandro wouldn’t do that. He said he’d come back.” And despite her own trepidation that he’d gotten a taste and lost interest, a part of her believed him when he said he’d return.

“Like a cold sore.”

“Don’t be an ass, Mitchell. Despite what you think of him, he’s been nothing but nice to me. Nicer than you’ve been I might add.”

“What are you talking about? I’m here, aren’t I, keeping you company and saving you from boredom?”

“And what about the five years previous to that?” she remarked dryly.

“I was busy?” he said with a hopeful lilt.

“Busy shagging skanks. And the only reason you’re even talking to me again is because of Jag. At least he’s never bowled people over to escape me.” Although, Mitchell was doing better. He’d gone from one extreme to another, glued to her side if for reasons still vague to her.

“Can we stop talking about him?” Mitchell grumbled.

Oh ho, did she hear a hint of jealousy? What fun. “Why? I like talking about him, like how big and strong he is. What amazing eyes he has. Oh, and he does this wicked thing—”

A pillow slapped her on the head along with Mitchell’s growled, “Enough. You like the cat. I get it. Now, change the subject.”

“Are you jealous, Mitchy?” she bugged as she yanked the pillow off her head.

“Of course not.”

Even she could hear the lie. She smiled to herself. “Fine. No more discussing Jag and how awesome he is. What do you want to do instead?” she asked as she gingerly rolled onto her back. The gunshot wound had closed, the skin knitting itself together, but still felt very tender. One of Mitchell’s hands helped prop her as the other stuffed pillows behind her back.

“Wanna play cards again?” he asked. Done playing nursemaid, he leaned back.

“No. And I swear, if you try and make me, I’m going to hide the ace in a hole that you’re not going to like.”

“Testy, testy. Wanna watch some television?”

“It’s
eleven a.m.
, which means talk shows or reruns. No thanks.” She didn’t need to know who the father of the teenage girl’s baby was. Seriously, how did people stomach those shows? And the Price Is Right just wasn’t the same without Bob Barker.

“Okay, grouchy one, what do you want to do then?”

“Truth or dare.” She blurted it out without even thinking. She immediately expected him to shoot the idea down. Once again, he surprised her.

“Okay, Red. You’re on. Me first.”

She frowned at him. “Why do you go first? I came up with the idea.”

A smirk twisted his lips. “Which means I go first. Or do you want to arm wrestle for the privilege?”

He’d like that, wouldn’t he? “Jerk. Go ahead, ask away. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

He grinned. “Excellent. So what’s it going to be, truth or dare, Red?”

“Truth.” Her eyes dared him to do his worst.

“Are you really going to let the cat move in and share your bed?”

“Yes. He’s a great cook and I liked sleeping with him. All night long. He’s the one who complained I didn’t share the bed well and that I stole all the covers.” She presented him with an innocent smile that completely ignored his glower.

Mitchell growled. “You didn’t answer the question. You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Then next time ask me properly because I answered the question. My turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

She cackled. “Ooh, you’re feeling brave, are you? Okay so answer this then, do you still see me as a sister?” Going after him with a big blazing truth gun, she almost held her breath waiting for the answer.

His eyes scrutinized her, and his answer, when it came, emerged slowly. “No. I most definitely don’t think of you as a sister anymore.” Her heart raced as she waited for him to say something more on the subject, but instead, he said, “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Do you love the cat?”

Blinking at the blunt question, she didn’t immediately reply. Honesty meant she couldn’t avoid it, even if she knew he wouldn’t like the answer. “I’m pretty sure I do.” A blank mask dropped over his face, but she could see the tension in his body.

“Are you going to let him claim you?”

“My turn to ask a question,” she said, stalling him. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Are you here just to protect me?”

“No.”

He didn’t elaborate and she glared at him. The jerk just grinned. “I love payback. My turn. Truth or dare?”

Having heard the question already, she avoided it. “Dare.”

His brows shot up. “Aw, so that’s how you’re going to play, hmmm? Chicken. Okay then, I dare you to tell Naomi she’s fat.”

Francine snorted. “I already did that this morning when you were in the bathroom. She then told me I looked like a scraggly refugee. Come on, you can do better than that.”

“Such a smart ass. You want something harder then? Fine, I dare you to kiss me.”

“Seriously? Piece of cake, although, to spare my back, do you mind bending over so I can reach you?”

Chagrin flashed on his face and she almost laughed as he leaned over, his face hovering in front of hers. “If you want to change your mind it’s—”

Plastering her mouth against his shut him up, and this time, her mind clear, her body rested, she could say without a shadow of a doubt he felt just as good as she recalled. Slanting her mouth over his, she nibbled the flesh, enjoying how his heart sped up and his breathing got more and more ragged. He pulled away first, swallowing hard, his eyes alight with passion, but he controlled himself, if with difficulty, the cords in his neck standing out. A quick glimpse down showed his hands clenched into fists. He still insisted on staying in control, it seemed. What a shame. She wondered how far she’d have to push him before he finally caved.

Her voice husky, she said, “My turn, truth or dare?”

He licked his lips, and a surge of lust roared through her as she realized how much she wanted that tongue—in her mouth, on her body, in her pussy. But Mitchell wasn’t Alejandro. He required more coaxing.

“Dare?” He spoke the word it as if worried, and with good reason.

Tossing him a wicked grin, she pointed to her groin clad in track pants. His forehead wrinkled with incomprehension and she smiled wider.

“I want you to put your mouth on my crotch and blow.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“So I’ve been told. What’s wrong? Are you turning down a dare? Pussy. Jag would do it in a heartbeat.”

“But someone could come in. And you’re hurt. And…”

She rolled her eyes. “I am really starting to think the rumors of you in the sack were false. I mean—Oh!”

The startled sigh escaped her as Mitchell placed his face between her thighs, his mouth against her sex. He blew and even filtered through her track pants, she felt the heat. And he didn’t do it just once. No, he kept his mouth pressed on her, breathing at her, and even through the fabric, it aroused her. Melted her into a puddle of aching desire. And she craved more.

Shudders wracked her and a low moan vibrated through her, followed by another when he worked his lips against the fabric, tugging at her. Her fingers gripped his hair, and she ignored the twinge of discomfort in her wound as she rocked her hips against his face.

“Phone for you… Hey, pervert, that’s my bed you’re misbehaving in,” Naomi screeched at her brother.

As if scalded, he rolled off the bed, the passion on his face warring with his red-cheeked embarrassment. As usual, he got mad and blamed someone else.

Pointing a finger at Francine, he stammered, “She made me do it. She dared me. Yell at her.”

Naomi grinned at her. “Truth or dare?”

“Of course. Idiot thought he could beat me at it.”

They both snickered while Mitchell scowled at them. “Did you want us for something other than causing trouble?” he growled.

“Oh yeah, phone call for Francine.” Naomi waddled to the bed and handed over the cell phone. “It’s Alejandro. Or should I say Jag, which I must say, is the coolest nickname ever. Javier won’t admit it, but he’s soooo jealous.”

“Am not,” Javier hollered from the hall.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we can come up with another kitty name for you, like Sylvester or Tom,” she yelled back, grinning. “Apparently, I’m not allowed to call him God in public, although he has no problem with it when we’re alone.”

Ethan lumbered in shaking his head, and swept his mate into his arms. “I apologize for her wayward tongue. The pregnancy hormones have made her crazier than she already was.”

“Oh, teddy bear!” she snarled.

“Yes my delicate flower?” he said, placidly carrying her out.

“Don’t you flower me. I resent being called crazy. I prefer straightforward.”

Francine giggled. She loved seeing Naomi so relaxed with her men.
I’d love to have the same type of relationship with mine.
She’d almost forgotten the phone in her hand, but a tinny “Hello?” made her bring it to her ear.

“Alejandro! Are you okay?”

“Hey, baby. Miss me?”

“More than you deserve.” She smiled as she said it, glad he’d called.

Mitchell crawled back on the bed. “Is that the cat? Ask him if he caught the hunter.”

“Tell the dog, not yet.”

“He heard you. Now, you didn’t answer me, are you okay? When are you coming back?” It eased something in her to hear his voice, to know he’d not forgotten her.

“I’m fine if lonely and horny. The hunter seems headed back to my hometown so I’ve been following him. I’m hoping to corner him tonight, which means I should be back tomorrow sometime, the day after at the latest. What about you, though? How’s your back?”

“Healing. They won’t let me do anything,” she grumbled.

“Ahh, poor baby. I’ll try and get back soon so I can find ways to keep you
entertained.
”
His soft chuckle made her smile because she could so easily imagine what he meant.

“Pig,” she said softly.

He laughed. “I miss you too. How are things with the dog?”

“They’re going.”

“I’ve got to say I’m surprised Mitchell hasn’t used my absence to make his big move.”

Peering over at Mitchell, who pretended not listen, she said, “We’re making progress.”

“In other words, he’s dragging his heels instead of seducing you. Idiot. Better get him to hurry up because once I get back, you probably won’t be allowed up for air for at least a day or so.” That made Mitchell growl and leave the bed. Actually, he left the room entirely, his back a rigid board.