“I don’t know,” she replied, hoping to quickly get this over with so she could go home, change into her pjs, and die peacefully in her sleep. “The talker introduced himself as John Jones, but I don’t think that was his real name. He didn’t introduce his friends. They were hyenas. If they’re part of a clan, they didn’t say which one.”
“Mila described them for me, but they don’t sound familiar. What did they want?”
“A way to contact Paxton.”
Alex stilled. “Paxton?”
She nodded. “Jones wasn’t buying that he was dead or that I didn’t know his whereabouts.”
“Did they threaten you?”
“No. They weren’t even remotely uncivil. Just persistent and irritating.”
“Have you reported it to Vinnie yet?”
“No. I’ll call him later.”
Alex drummed his fingers on his desk. “It doesn’t say good things about the hyenas that they want to speak with Paxton. I gave Greg the descriptions of them that Mila gave me. If the hyenas turn up here, they won’t get inside. If you see them again, you call me.” It was nothing short of an order.
Bree almost sighed. She honestly didn’t know why he thought she’d bow to his will and obey him. It was like he was new here.
When it came to work matters, she did as he ordered—he was her boss, after all. But outside of Pot of Gold? Nu-uh.
Feline omegas weren’t weak and low-ranked. They were an equal blend of dominant and submissive. And, for a reason no one could explain, they couldn’t be forced to submit by anyone—not even alphas. So, yeah, she could hold her own against dominant males just fine.
Bree preferred not to waste energy arguing with them, though. She often just nodded, pretended to agree with them … and then went off and did whatever she wanted. It was more satisfying to win the psychological war and make their heads explode. So she looked Alex right in the eyes and lied. “Sure.”
That dark gaze narrowed. “I’m serious, Bree.”
“Yeah, I’m sensing that. Now, if that’s all …”
“No, it’s not.”
Her heartbeat kicked up as he pushed to his feet. The hardwood floor didn’t even creak beneath his shoes as he stalked toward her—every stride fluid, slow, and purposeful. Then he was towering over her, making all her nerve-endings tingle in anticipation.
Not once in her life had she felt such a powerful, intoxicating draw to another person. Her body never felt more alive than when she was around Alex. Seriously, the amount of sexual energy that danced between them was insane. It was just chemicals, though, wasn’t it? Chemicals fizzled out. The attraction would fade eventually, right?
“I heard something went down between you and Mateo,” he said. “All that anyone seems to know is that the two of you had a row that led to him leaving town for a week and that neither of you have spoken since. What happened?”
Her stomach sinking, Bree flexed her fingers. She’d counted Mateo as a close friend, but after what he’d done two weeks ago … Hell, her cat couldn’t even look at him without wanting to claw out his eyeballs and stomp on them until they popped.
Mateo’s crime wouldn’t have sounded so bad to a human. But for a shifter, it had been a total betrayal that would get him banished from the pride. She hadn’t told a soul what he’d done, though. He deserved to pay, but a part of her felt sorry for him. She knew what it was like to want someone you couldn’t have. Knew how much it hurt to see them with others. Knew just how easy it was to kid yourself into believing they’d want you back one day.
Besides, what was the sense in having Mateo tossed out of the pride when—unbeknown to Alex and most of her pride mates—she was planning to leave herself?
Plus, she’d made mistakes, too; she’d failed to see just how deeply Mateo’s feelings for her ran. She’d known he was attracted to her, but she hadn’t thought it was more than that until he bitterly threw the facts in her face. She’d have known a lot sooner if he hadn’t always been so insistent that she didn’t read his emotions.
The shit situation taught her a valuable lesson—holding out for someone you couldn’t have would only end badly. And so, she’d promised herself that she’d abandon any hope that Alex would ever be hers. She didn’t want to become bitter and twisted like Mateo.
“You two have been friends a long time,” Alex went on. “A friendship that strong doesn’t just dissolve without a good reason. What did you two argue about?”
“Ask him.”
“I’m asking you, but you’re avoiding the question. Why not just tell me?”
Because he’d beat the absolute living shit out of Mateo, just as he’d beaten the living shit out of any other guys who’d upset her over the years. Besides … “Why would I tell you? We’re not friends. We don’t confide in each other.”
“We’re not friends, no. We’re more than that. I think of you as—”
“Don’t say you think of me as ‘family,’ because that would be a humungous freaking lie. Or are you too much of a pussy to admit it?”
Alex ground his teeth. Having this conversation was not on his bucket list at the fuck all. How many times had he heard his relatives refer to Bree as “family?” Too many to count. There’d been a time when he felt the same. He wasn’t sure at what point that changed, or if it had been a gradual thing, but she was right—he didn’t think of her as family. Not any longer.
The truth? The feline enticed him with every breath she took. Everything about her tempted him. Pulled him in. Incited him.
He repeatedly reminded himself that she was the true mate of his cousin; that she was twelve-years younger than him; that she was better suited to someone like Mateo. But none of those things made a damn bit of difference to him or his beast. And his cock certainly didn’t give two fucks—it always went hard as a goddamn rock around her.
Really, Alex doubted any red-blooded male would blame him for that. Bree Dwyer was as pretty and shiny as the bling that surrounded her daily. She was hands down the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But it would be a mistake to look at that stunning exterior and assume that very little went on in her head—she had a mind as sharp as her tongue.
He wanted to stare right into her hooded, electric-blue eyes while he was moving inside her. Wanted to see that fuckable mouth stretched tight around his cock and all her shiny gold-tinted chestnut hair draped over his thighs. Wanted to have those long, smooth legs hooked over his shoulders while he ate her out.
And the things he could do to that ass …
Honest to God, just watching her walk made him want to shove his dick in her. She carried herself with a killer confidence; always appeared so self-possessed and inaccessible with her head up, her back straight, her arms swaying gracefully, her hips swiveling slightly from side-to-side.
Alex took a long breath. Her scent flowed into his system. Mangos, grapefruit, and coconut milk. He’d missed it. He always found himself greedy for more of it.
Rumbling a flirtatious sound, his inner beast pressed against his skin to be closer to her. The animal was a cranky, sullen creature, but he turned into a damn flirt whenever she was nearby. He didn’t give a rat’s ass that she was Paxton’s true mate, or that Mateo might be better for her. The beast saw a mature, unattached female and considered her fair game.