Good Kitten [Stocoma City 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Read online

  Carter rose, having finished packing his gear. Carter didn’t speak, much less show aggression. He made his message clear through the tense line of his body. He wouldn’t be introducing the mysterious nameless blonde sub to them anytime soon. The dungeon monitor went back to making his rounds, but Scott noted he kept a wary eye on them.

  “What now?” Rafe asked, watching Carter disappear inside the private room. “We didn’t even get a name.”

  “We can respect the large man’s decision, but—” Scott faltered. He stared at the Reserved sign Carter placed on the door.

  Usually, he’d leave the matter alone. He wasn’t a man interested in club conflict, not when real life already gave him one hell of a headache, but like Rafe, he couldn’t leave it be. Something about the mysterious woman nagged at him. Told him if he didn’t pursue this, he might end up regretting it.

  “Sorry, but I need to talk to her at least. I mean, we’re strangers. The attraction might be imagined when it comes to the real thing. No harm done, right?”

  “We’re on the same page.” Rafe headed toward the door. Scott followed. Rafe didn’t even bother knocking. They found Carter giving his temporary sub aftercare on a large comfy armchair.

  The big werebear took up most of the seat, and had her on his lap. He’d given her a comfy white silk robe, but Scott saw it was partially opened at the front. Her long legs spilled out, draped on either side of Carter, her head buried in his chest while he had one hand supporting her back, and the other messaging one breast.

  Carter growled, seeing them. “What the hell?”

  The sub on his lap, still lost in subspace, didn’t notice their arrival. She curled closer to him, looking tiny against his large frame, sighing. Scott’s impression of her little graceful movements told him her animal was some sort of feline.

  “Didn’t you see the fucking sign outside?” Carter asked. Scott noticed he kept his voice low and controlled, not risking discomforting the woman on his lap.

  “We need to talk,” Rafe said good-naturedly. Scott felt the slight stirrings of anger rising from Rafe’s wolf.

  “I said no. Get the fuck out.”

  Rafe’s anger spiked through their mate bonds, doing little to help Scott’s own beast. Forced to the surface, his spiritual wolf protectively hovered beside his mate, scenting the air for danger. It noted the bear in the territory, and then the female.

  “Sir, is something wrong?” she asked softly, sounding hardly awake. The sound of her voice made his cock twitch and spiked the curiosity of their beasts. Their spiritual wolves began circling and sniffing them, obviously interested.

  “Carter.” Her voice changed tides, gaining unexpected strength. She shifted on Carter’s lap, so her legs now dangled on one side, and she had a clear view of them. Carter banded one thick arm over her waist, keeping her there.

  Scott didn’t know what to look at first—the tempting line of her flesh peeking from the robe, the perfect curve of her breasts and the winking rings there, or her face. Without the blindfold or the gag ball, he noticed the perfect heart shape of her face, the high cheekbones, her fucking tempting lips, but it was her eyes that stopped him cold.

  Clear rich emerald, once soft and vulnerable, grew harder. Filled with steel and cool regard as the woman discarded the sub in her and the person came out. He caught glimpses of her beast now, lurking like a dangerous and mysterious predator inside her, all cloaked in shadows.

  Scott had severely underestimated her strength. She must have deliberately shaded her aura, because the shifter in front of him was by no means weak, and if she belonged to a pack, she didn’t fall at the bottom of the barrel. Normally, a female of that level would have been considered mate-worthy material, but he didn’t sense any mate bonds tying her to someone else.

  “What are Scavos wolves doing here?” She asked Carter.

  How could this be the same woman, the same sub they saw only moments ago? Worse, did she have any idea how the knowledge of her balanced strength and confident submission made them want her even more?

  Something about the way she asked Carter the question nagged at Scott. The undisguised and instant dislike there, despite being strangers, and the fact she easily identified them. There were a couple of independent wolf packs in the city, yet she instantly recognized their breed.

  “Why don’t you direct that question to us, sweet little sub?” Rafe edged closer, but Scott grabbed his arm.

  A slight flicker of anger appeared on her features, and then it quickly disappeared. Carter tightened his grip on her waist, and tilted her chin, so she looked at him.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t mention it before. They wanted to come talk to you, but I clearly told them no.” Carter threw them an angry look.

  “I see. It’s okay. Thank you for tonight, Sir.” She kissed his unshaven cheek lightly. Scott didn’t know why he growled at the gesture, why he got so jealous of a female that wasn’t even his or Rafe’s. Odd.

  Finally, she looked at them, and then closed the belt of her robe.

  “You don’t need to do that, kitten. We’ve already seen an eyeful. You, at your most vulnerable, the way you came all over Carter’s hand when he thrust a vibrator up your pretty pussy.”

  A slight flush crept to her cheeks, but her voice remained uneven. Perfect control. “Wolf, you keep calling me ‘you.’ Does that mean you don’t know who I am?”

  “In here, subs are supposed to call Dominants by their proper title of ‘Sir,’” Rafe pointed out. “But on account of us never having met before, I’ll forgive you this time round.”

  “You’ll forgive me?” Her lips formed a small smile. “How generous.”

  “Your sub isn’t well behaved, Carter. If she were mine, I’d punish her more often.”

  “Too bad I’m not yours, then, Sir.” She added the last word like an afterthought.

  “Not yet, anyway,” Scott found himself saying. He shadowed Rafe, approaching the couch. Carter snarled in warning, but she placed a gentle hand on his arm. She didn’t resist or tell Scott to fuck off, either, when he reached out to thumb her cheekbone, or when Rafe tugged off the rubber band to unveil her silken hair.

  “What does that mean?” she asked curiously.

  “We don’t see a collar on you, kitten. Hasn’t it crossed your mind we might just be the Doms you’ve been searching for?”

  “What makes you think I’m looking for a Dom of my own?”

  “Because, kitten.” Scott paused. He touched her bottom lip, felt the change in her breathing.

  Rafe ran his fingers through her hair, lifted it to his nose and sniffed, closing his eyes. This close, Scott was treated to the tiny details he couldn’t see before. Despite the robe she wore, he saw the hint of white threads stark against her golden skin. Scars, he thought, wondering at his sudden flare of anger, his protectiveness. He pushed the fabric aside, seeing the swell of her breasts, the lines of text that intrigued him before. The words were too short to be a quote, and it took him a second to realize they were names that for now, meant nothing to him.

  Just who the hell was this woman, and what sort of secrets did she keep?

  “We can taste your need, even from a distance, your loneliness and your isolation. There’s a sadness in you, sweetheart. A haunting quality.”

  She shivered, an unexpected fragile gesture, and withdrew from their touch to curl closer to Carter’s chest.

  The werebear’s eyes gleamed with obvious hatred. “You’ve talked. Now leave. She isn’t interested.”

  “Why so scared, kitten? Because what Scott said rings true?” Rafe asked, undaunted.

  She avoided the question, not looking at them. “Dogs and cats don’t go together,” she whispered softly.

  Scott bristled. “We aren’t dogs, kitten. You don’t know how persuasive wolves can get when they see and scent something they want. You’re already ours, and you don’t even know it yet.”

  “Am I? How arrogant.” Those green eyes fastened on them again,
and the fire in them made his erection worse. God. It would be magnificent to possess such a woman and bring her to her knees. “You don’t know a single thing about me.”

  Scott’s fingers twitched. He longed to touch and comfort her, make amends because he didn’t know how badly his words might have affected her. Scott assumed going to Collision seemed like a sort of haven for her when her outside life became complicated and hectic. Those scars bugged him, too. Scott wanted to push her robe aside and study what kind of implement could create permanent marks on a shifter.

  “There’s a difference between arrogance and confidence, sweetheart,” Rafe said. Like Scott, Rafe understood for now it was better keeping his distance.

  “Has anyone ever told you not to take reckless gambles when you don’t know the stakes, Rafe Moon?”

  Rafe looked slightly taken aback. “How do you know my name?”

  “I’m afraid it’s not a compliment,” she said warily. “It’s my job to know every high-ranking Scavos wolf by name and face.”

  Scott finally saw the form of her spiritual beast. It stalked from its confines, rather than walked, tawny furred, slender, and deadly—a fucking mountain lion, and unlike wolves, there was no mistaking what she was, a Vivaldi, and the word “Scavos wolves” associated with them was simple. Enemy.

  His stomach dropped when Carter worriedly clasped the nape of her neck and growled out her name. “Ragan.”

  Chapter Three

  Ragan Vivaldi saw hesitation flicker in Scott Haven’s eyes, but Rafe Moon, the more volatile of the pair, moved. He gripped her wrist to the point of pain, nostrils flared, eyes flickering between his human blue eyes and his wolflike amber, but she knew he wouldn’t harm her.

  Not here, in Collision. Neutral grounds. Shifters who were in the lifestyle exerted remarkable control. Some even practiced BDSM and bondage to sharpen their control over their beasts, but not Ragan. Scott had hit the mark. Ragan came here for escape, to let go of the side of her she had to keep hidden away when she was Ragan Vivaldi. Being in Collision made her no different from any sub. Why had these two Scavos wolves had to ruin that?

  “You’re lying,” Rafe accused.

  “Let go of her, before I break your fucking arm,” Carter hissed.

  “He’s not going to hurt me.” Ragan felt guilty for involving Carter. True, none of them predicted something like this would happen tonight, but the last thing she wanted was to involve Carter in what might be a skirmish between wolves and lions.

  What possessed her to come to Collision tonight anyway? She worried for her twin brother Ren, although she trusted his mate Lance. Ragan knew Lance Scavos, saw firsthand how he’d do anything to defend her brother and their unborn pup, but she didn’t know Rafe and Scott.

  Hell, didn’t River just warn her to keep a close eye on Rafe Moon, because in the past, he had caused trouble? Trouble had been a mild word to use. Rafe and his pack hadn’t just sent a lot of her lions to the hospital, but also to their graves. How could she be attracted to the enemy?

  Rafe leaned in close, but she didn’t flinch away. His warm breath tickled against her cheek. “You sure of that, kitten?”

  “Unless you’re willing to break club rules and breach neutral territory, then yes, I’m certain.”

  Besides, their touches told her a truth a hundred lies could not. Working in the underworld, as a woman among ruthless men, Ragan was no stranger to violence. She had seen and had been around men who wouldn’t hesitate to cross the thin lines, rape and torture, hurt and murder. Scott and Rafe were leagues apart from men who hurt women for sport.

  “What are you saying? And, kitten, don’t bother using fancy words,” Scott warned.

  The way he called her kitten made her shiver. Ragan shifted on Carter’s lap, knew Carter would come to her aid even without her asking him to. Still, Rafe and Scott’s heated gazes on her made her remember the way they looked at her when they had no idea who she was. If they hadn’t been Scavos wolves, she wouldn’t have bothered resisting either. She would have simply let them take the lead.

  Now though, she felt too wide open. Too vulnerable in a thin piece of cloth, but why bother, when Scott managed to see the truth most lions had been blind to see? Before her father Raquel Vivaldi died, he had taken Ren and her aside and commanded them to pick mates among the pride. She didn’t bother telling him she had needs none of the lions could provide. Besides, like most of the males in the pride, most of her family members didn’t understand.

  “Tonight never happened,” she said firmly.

  Ragan didn’t miss the flicker of pain in Scott’s eyes. Her insides churned. She found herself gripping at Carter’s biceps hard, but he’d been with her long enough. He only stroked her back in reassurance, giving her the strength to continue.

  A lot of club members often mistook Carter for her Dom, and they hadn’t bothered correcting the rumor. Carter was more her mentor and occasional playmate than anything else. He liked tying her up. She liked being tied up by his expert hands. Nothing more. After his wife and sub died, Carter had trouble committing, and Ragan knew with her outside life, finding a Dom was impossible.

  “Is that what you really want?” Scott asked, voice hoarse.

  “It’s the best solution for all of us.” Ragan let out a breath, then Rafe tipped her chin, making her look at him.

  “Go ahead, kitten. Say that to my face. Lie to me again. I dare you.”

  Ragan’s tongue froze. God. Lying and words always came easy to her. After seeing her younger sister Charity, then now her brother, mated to a Scavos wolf, she was tired. Hell, Ragan was exhausted from always defending Charity and Ren, and being dutiful to her insane family. Being the fucking good girl.

  She dropped her eyes. Ragan could practically hear her pulse, beating like a thousand wings in her throat. “I can’t.”

  Scott let out a surprised breath. Rafe took her response as an invitation and trailed one callused finger against the line of her throat—the place where a collar could be buckled shut. She shivered. Knew Rafe’s lips had lifted slightly to a cruel grin.

  “Very good, kitten. It appears you aren’t unteachable after all, although we do need to discuss your behavior. What do you think, Scott?” Rafe asked.

  “I completely agree, Rafe.” The absolute confidence in Scott’s voice made Ragan reassess the two men again.

  Both Scott and Rafe wouldn’t be considered traditional fairy tale handsome. They were huge, rough, and made of muscle and hard angles, but that was where the similarities ended. Rafe Moon had Hispanic features, with golden skin, a luxurious mane of thick black hair she’d like to run her hands through, but his eyes were a drowning shade of blue. Scott meanwhile, had short dark auburn hair and amused gray-green eyes.

  “Ragan, don’t make a reckless decision you’ll regret later on,” Carter reminded her. Ragan felt guilty for momentarily forgetting she sat on his lap. She couldn’t remember the last time any Dom had this effect on her—the ability to make her forget everything else, but them, the authority and presence they commanded.

  Rafe snorted. “She can make her own decisions, Carter. For fuck’s sake, she’s Ragan Vivaldi.”

  Her stomach knotted. She stiffened. Rafe’s reminder of her role in the daylight world didn’t help. Ragan knew she had a reputation. If circumstances had been different and they met her in the middle of a turf war, what would happen? They certainly wouldn’t be calling her kitten.

  “Rafe, bad choice of words,” Scott said. Ragan didn’t like the way he seemed to be able to easily read her reactions. Dangerous.

  She sighed. “What do you want?”

  “We aren’t blackmailing you, sweetheart. You can still walk away if you want. Nothing has to change. Tomorrow when we see each other and assume our roles we can forget tonight happened,” Scott said.

  Rafe made a rumbling protesting sound in his throat, but didn’t argue. Again, Ragan heard the same reluctance, the same pain in Scott’s voice. Her rejection had power to hurt
him, and she didn’t like that.

  Ragan tried again. “I’m not asking as Ragan Vivaldi. Why don’t you tell me about your desires, Sirs?”

  Both men exchanged a shared look, and must have come to a decision because when they looked back at her, their dark gaze burned right through her, the silent message there clear. “Come play with us in the dark, and we assure you we won’t disappoint.” She felt a shudder pass down her spine, and they hadn’t even touched her.

  “One scene with you. Nothing heavy, and Carter can police to ensure your safety,” Rafe said.

  “It’s just one night, heck a few hours. Tomorrow everything goes back to normal,” Scott added.

  “Like Cinderella in bondage,” Ragan whispered. “When midnight strikes, the magic is all over.”

  Scott and Rafe looked surprised.

  “What?” She demanded.

  “Nothing, it’s just I can’t imagine you mentioning a fairy tale reference.”

  “Growing up competing with my siblings, the only comrade and friend I had was my brother. Raquel Vivaldi never tolerated anything under his roof that could make his children soft or sentimental, but Ren and I sometimes stayed over at the houses of human friends. Father put a stop to it eventually.”

  Ragan recalled those memories fondly, but they mingled with the bitter consequences of what happened when one disobeyed their father. Even now, she could hear her brother’s screams, as Raquel used a switch he cut off from the birch tree in the garden. First her, then Ren while the rest of their siblings watched from the sidelines. God, no wonder Ren left home when he turned eighteen, and River and Red turned out so fucked up.

  “Ragan.”

  She blinked at Rafe’s firm voice.

  “Sorry, did you say something?”

  “Where did you go, sweetheart? You went to a faraway place none of us could reach,” Scott said.

  A huge mistake, mentioning something personal, Ragan decided. What the hell was wrong with her? Ragan bit her lower lip, suddenly having second thoughts, then glanced back at Carter.

  “I can see how much you want this,” Carter murmured. He kissed her brow. “I have your back. In case something goes wrong. I’ll rip these bastards’ throats apart.”