Take Me, page 11
He wasn’t coming back.
The irony of her situation didn’t escape her. When she’d arrived in San Francisco, she’d just wanted to co-exist with Miguel until he returned to his own Pride in Argentina…or to ride out the storm and then run away again. She’d gotten exactly what she wanted. They co-existed. He’d left. She was as alone as she’d always imagined herself.
But it was worse now. Worse than when she’d left her family the first time. The pain didn’t fade, the loneliness ate her alive. Nothing could make it stop. It was the first time she’d ever been unable to lose herself in her work.
God, she missed him. It weighed down on her every moment of every day. She couldn’t escape it, couldn’t rest. Her instincts screamed and clawed like a wild thing inside her…urging her to go to her mate.
It had to get better soon. It had to or she would go insane.
She walked around in a daze of pain and exhaustion. A week rolled by and she had no idea where the time went. Grit burned her eyes until they blurred, but she couldn’t sleep. Her work finished, she flew back to California. She closed her eyes, forcing her body to rest on the car ride from the airport to the mansion. Or perhaps she just wanted to shut out the sight of the limo where she’d first made love with Miguel.
Either way, her mind wouldn’t shut down. It buzzed around from one thought to another like a gnat on crack.
The door popped open as soon as the limo slowed to a stop and Ric reached in to haul her out. He lifted her up into a tight hug. She squeezed him back with a desperation that wasn’t feigned. She’d missed him and the rest of her family. And she had a feeling clinging to her connection to them might be her only way to survive this.
“Welcome home.”
“Thank you.” It did feel like home now. It had taken being away to realize just how much. She loved this place and these people. Antonio was as diametrically opposed to her father as a man could be. She believed he could do everything he wanted to in the Panther community. She was proud of him, respected him as a leader.
Miguel had given this to her. He’d given her back her family. Would she ever have unbent enough to get to know them again without him? Probably not. One way or another, she would have left after the loyalty ceremony was over.
The moment she stepped in the door, she found a welcoming party waiting for her. Carmen and her mate hugged her and passed her to a dozen other Pride members. Tears smarted in her eyes and she squeezed them all tightly. Her people. Then she was scooped up and twirled around by Diego before Antonio pulled her out of the younger man’s arms. “Please, give her space to breathe.”
She laughed, the first time in seven days. Antonio ran a hand over the back of her head and rocked her from side to side. “Good to see you again.”
“You, too.” She pulled back to smile up at him. “Where’s Solana?”
“Sleeping.” His broad shoulder lifted in a shrug. “She’s at that point where moving is something she has to think about for half an hour before she decides if it’s worth the work.”
“Poor baby.”
A grin lit up his face. “Don’t say that to her or she might kill you. She’s not big on pity—or even sympathy that might have once come into contact with pity.”
“Noted.” When the front door slammed, she turned to see the twins lugging her huge suitcases toward the stairs. “Well, then. I’m going to go unpack, knock the travel grime off of me, and be back down for dinner.”
“See you in a bit. I have a call I put on hold when you pulled up. I have to get back to it.”
She and Antonio parted, she for her room and he for his office. Jogging up the wide staircase, she met the twins on the landing. “Thanks for hauling in my bags.”
Ric smiled, paused to smack a kiss on her cheek, and took the steps down two at a time. “No prob, sis. Got work to do. Bye.”
“I better keep him from going anal-retentive workaholic on me. He’s such a fucking lawyer.” Diego ruffled her hair and hustled after his twin.
Chuckling, she shook her head as she walked into her suite. She took a deep breath, but couldn’t even catch a whiff of Miguel’s scent. She spun in a slow circle, something twisting and crumpling inside her. He wasn’t here. He’d never be here again. It was as if she’d imagined the whole thing. She almost wished she had, but she couldn’t make herself believe it. Having him had been worth the pain of losing him.
She huffed out a sad laugh. “Now isn’t that a bitch?”
Her voice seemed to echo in her room, and she found herself standing there staring at her bed. The one Miguel had bent her over that first night. A shudder ran through her. God, the things that man had done to her body.
Sucking in a breath, she whipped around, walked into the bathroom, and stripped off her clothes as she went. This was madness; she had to stop thinking about him. Twisting the knob to turn on the shower, she stepped under the heated spray of water, tried to shut her mind off and focus on all the things she needed to do. She had a new line to develop, a spring fashion show to prepare for, arrangements to make with the European Pride so that she could travel to Paris and Milan for meetings.
The water rolled in hot beads down her body, and she shivered at the sensation. It felt like fingers moving over her skin. And that dragged her back to Miguel. Her sex clenched at the thought of him. She wished she could smile at her Pavlovian reaction, but her body ached with suppressed want. The idea that it might be this way for the rest of her life made her want to scream or break something. But it wouldn’t change anything, wouldn’t make things better or make it hurt less.
Miguel.
If he were here, he’d have her up against the shower wall in under ten seconds. Or on her knees with her mouth on his cock. Or…hell, there was no telling what he’d do. The man had a mind full of naughty and a body made for sin. And he used both of them to her advantage. Her nipples tightened as she imagined Miguel’s hands on them, lifting and squeezing them.
Heat rolled through her body, and the muscles in her thighs shook. Steam wrapped her in its sensual embrace, sweat and water mixing to slick every inch of her flesh. “Jesus.”
She couldn’t take it. Her instincts reared their ugly head, clamoring again for her mate. They twisted and screeched inside her, made her body flame with white-hot need for Miguel. Only Miguel. His hands, his mouth, his cock. On her, in her. It didn’t matter as long as he made her come.
A moan tore from her throat, agony shredding her soul, desire heating her blood to a boiling point. Her hands shook when she finally gave in. She had to do something to ease the dark longings that tangled inside her. Her fingers cupped her breasts, pinching and tugging at her tight nipples. A whimper slid free when she let her palm glide down her torso until it reached her pussy.
She circled her clit with one fingertip, toying with the swollen flesh. Water pelted her body, but the heat of it was nothing to the molten lava bubbling up inside her. Her legs shook with the effort to keep herself upright. She plunged her fingers deep into her soaking pussy. Her hips undulated, moving to the carnal rhythm her hands set. She needed to come so badly, needed some relief from the endless want that haunted her.
Her heart rate sped, her blood rushing through her veins. Fire licked at her skin, made it feel too hot and too tight for her body. She was going to explode. Moving her hand faster, she worked her fingers over her clit in rough strokes. Her breath hissed between her teeth…her fangs sliding out to scrape her lip. The tang of blood flooded her tongue, and it made the feral side of her rip loose. Her sex clenched around her fingers, and orgasm hit her in a blinding rush.
“Miguel,” she sobbed. Tears she hadn’t let herself cry since he left slid down her cheeks to mingle with the shower spray. She pressed her forehead to the slick tile, bracing herself with her hands. But her legs gave out and she folded to the floor, crying as though her soul had been ripped in two. If it had, she knew she had no one to blame but herself. This was the way she’d wanted it, wasn’t it?
The tears slowed, her breath evening out. She dropped her forehead to her knees and sighed. Please, let the pain and loneliness stop. Please. She couldn’t live like this. Finally, she reached up to turn off the shower and hauled herself to her feet.
A knock sounded on the door to her suite. Antonio by the smell of it. “One second!”
Shrugging into a robe she’d left behind when she went to New York, she hurried out of the bathroom to open the door for her brother. A concerned look made creases in his forehead. Fear jolted through her. Was something wrong with Solana? With Miguel? Oh, God.
She stepped back to let Antonio in, her fingers twisting in the belt of her robe. Anxiety knotted in her belly. “What’s wrong?”
“What makes you think anything is wrong?” He thrust his hands into his jeans pockets and didn’t look at her.
She snorted. “Please. I may not have been around for a long time, but I knew you before you got a growth spurt and I was taller than you. I can tell when something’s bothering you.”
“Just because you were a giraffe at nine—”
“Stop stalling.” She put herself directly in front of him so he couldn’t avoid her gaze. “Just tell me.”
He sighed. “You’re not going to be happy.”
She lifted her hands, releasing an exasperated breath. “Then get it over with and let me deal with being pissed.”
“I got a call from the South American Pride.”
Her heart stumbled. God, it was Miguel. Something had happened. Something terrible. She—
“They’ve demanded you join Miguel there and mate with him immediately.”
“What?” He wouldn’t do that. If there was one thing she knew about Miguel, it was that he wanted her willing or not at all. He would never use underhanded methods to get what he wanted from her.
Realization jerked through her, and a laugh that sounded closer to a sob escaped her throat. How had she missed this? When she hadn’t been looking, Miguel had actually earned her trust. All of it. Not just in the bedroom. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would never hurt her the way other men had. He’d probably take someone apart limb by limb for daring to dream of it.
Her heart pounded so hard she could hear it, her stomach flipping over. God, she needed him. She loved him, and she was such an idiot. Would he ever forgive her for putting him through so much shit before she got it? She hoped so. What would she do without him? She’d been dying inside for the last week.
Antonio’s hand closed over her shoulder. “We have no idea if Miguel had anything to do with this. Don’t be—”
“Have your assistant book me on the next flight out to Buenos Aires.” Hope and abject terror pressed in on her chest until she couldn’t breathe. What would she do if he decided she wasn’t worth the emotional risk? She’d shut him down so many times and she knew it had to have caused him pain. She drew in a shaky breath.
“What?” Her brother gave her the kind of look reserved for escapees from the insane asylum.
She gave him a smile that she was sure bordered on maniacal. She was going to see Miguel again. The realization was so sweet it hurt. She had to fight to keep tears from welling up in her eyes. “Whether Miguel had any say in it or not, if I don’t go, it’s going to mess things up for the Pride. So, I’m going. I’ll handle it.”
Antonio blinked and stared down at her for a long moment before he shook himself. “Okay…Then, I’ll let you get ready to go. I’ll drive you to the airport.”
“Fine.”
And then he was gone and she was stuffing herself into the first set of clothes on top of her still-packed suitcase and zipping it closed again. At least she was already packed. That simplified things.
Her hands shook with nerves and she had to sit on her bed and stick her head between her knees for a moment. She might throw up. What if he didn’t want her anymore? He’d left. He’d said it was best they didn’t mate with each other. And Miguel always meant what he said. Cold tingles spread over her skin. Oh, God. Oh, God.
No. She forced herself to sit up and pull in a deep breath. If he didn’t want her, she would change his mind. He had changed hers, changed her whole world.
And he’d promised her that he would fulfill all of her needs. Well, now she needed him. Forever.
The black hair on his forelegs allowed Miguel to fade into the night as he sprinted across the lush hacienda grounds, pushing his Panther body as hard as possible. His tail whipped behind him as he wound through the trees. Faster. Perhaps he could escape the impending blowup with his mate. Faster. How much longer did he have left? The humid air wrapped around him, filling his lungs with heated moisture. He panted, his lungs straining to suck in enough oxygen. And still he ran, faster, faster, knowing there was no avoiding his fate.
Exhaustion sapped at his strength, but he had no desire to rest, to sleep. It would only bring dreams of Andrea. A cruel reminder of what would never be his. His hammering heart gave a painful lurch, and he forced himself to slow to a stop. His head sagged between his front paws, his muscles shaking.
He sighed and turned back to the huge house. Even with his acute vision, he couldn’t see it yet through the foliage, but he could smell it and he followed the scent of many Panthers concentrated in one area until the hacienda came in sight. Entering through a door designed for Panthers in cat form, he ghosted up the rear stairs to his suite.
When he stepped into his rooms, he found his cell phone vibrating on the nightstand. It rattled until it clattered to the floor. Shifting back to human form in a quick flash of heat and magic, he scooped up the phone and saw an American number. One from inside the North American den. His fingers shook a bit when he pressed the answer key. “Andrea?”
“No, it’s Solana. I’m sorry, Miguel.”
A slow sigh escaped, but the smile that came to his lips was genuine. “Not at all. What did you need? Is…everyone all right?”
“Andrea just got on a plane.” He could hear the worry in her voice, and it made his stomach clench. “Antonio dropped her off at the airport. She’s…not happy.”
He rubbed a hand over his forehead and sat on the edge of his bed. “I had nothing to do with it.”
“I know. She didn’t say anything to anyone before she left. Not even Diego could get a word out of her. She just booked a flight and left. I’m hoping Antonio got her to talk on the way to SFO, but I won’t know until he gets back.” She sighed. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for the shitstorm that’s probably about to rain down on you.”
He barked out a laugh. “You have a way with words. How is everyone else?”
“Everyone’s fine. I’m fat.” A rustling sounded through the phone line and he could imagine her shifting it against her ear. “My feet are puffy and I can’t bend down to tie my shoes.”
“Have one of the many men who wait on you hand and foot do it for you.”
“The twins would kick your ass for saying so.”
“The truth is painful at times.” He grinned just thinking about the disdainful looks he’d earn from the younger men, but they’d do whatever Solana wanted and everyone knew it.
Her chuckle filtered through the phone. “I miss you. Everyone does. I wish you were here.”
“Me, too. I’m sorry I’ll miss being there for the baby being born.” God, he missed North America. Especially since his uncle was not there and he wouldn’t have to watch the man try to bring Andrea under his thumb. Damn it.
A breathy gust of air came through the line. “I have to go. Antonio has the twins watching me like a hawk. As if talking on the phone is a strain.”
He squeezed the phone so tight the plastic squeaked. “Take care of yourself.”
“Ha. You’re as bad as them.”
“Worse.” He chuckled and decided to needle her a bit. What could he say—he was a sadist at heart. “You’d never have gotten near a phone to call if I was there.”
“Tyrant,” she grouched.
He grinned even though she couldn’t see it. “Good-bye, Solana.”
“Bye, Miguel. Good luck with Andrea.”
“Thanks for the warning.” He pushed the button to turn off the phone and collapsed back against the bed. How many hours did he have until she got here? Not enough to keep the dread at bay. He did not want to deal with this. But he would. “Shit.”
Now that he was lying down, the exhaustion he’d been beating away for hours sapped his strength. He flung an arm over his eyes and sighed. Why did it have to be so fucking hard?
It was his last thought before sleep dragged him under. Sheer feline lassitude made his muscles relax into the soft mattress, and he was out before he had a chance to fight it.
“Miguel.”
Someone called his name. Was it real or a dream? He couldn’t tell. His mind was foggy, his eyes refusing to open. Something poked his shoulder and he snapped awake in an instant. Jerking his head to the side, he saw Beatriz’s little face peeking up over the edge of the mattress. It wasn’t usual for him to sleep so deeply. No one ever snuck up on him, let alone a small child.
Then he realized he was still naked from the night before when he’d shifted from his Panther form. He reached for a pillow and plopped it on his lap as he sat up. “What’s wrong, Beatriz?”
“She’s here. In abuelo’s office. You should go see her, she’s very beautiful.”
Andrea. Shit, how had he slept so long? “When did she arrive?”
“Just now. I saw her come in the door and abuelo took her into his office. I came to get you. He didn’t tell me to. Is that wrong?” Sudden worry crinkled her small features, made her dark eyes go wide.
He cupped a hand over the back of her head, dropping a quick kiss on her forehead. “No, you did the right thing. Thank you. Go play so I can get dressed.”
