Chapter Ten

Tiffany woke to someone pressing a hand over her mouth. She shoved, digging her nails into the hand to get free.

Marshall’s whispered voice calmed her. “It’s me. Someone’s in the house.”

That slung off any remaining sleepiness, especially with the tension through Marshall’s body. He removed his hand from her mouth, and they both rose from his bed, which they’d crawled into after what had happened in the living room.

He grabbed his phone and tucked it into his pocket.

“Aren’t you going to call the police?”

“Security system has already alerted them. They’re on their way, but it’s going to take ten minutes for them to get here.”

Tiffany cursed that her clothing sat in the dryer, leaving her still wearing only Marshall’s shirt. She didn’t even have her shoes. “Should we go out of the window?”

He shook his head. “We’re on the second floor. There’s a good chance, if we tried that, one or both of us would sprain an ankle.”

“Do you have a gun?”

“I hate guns. Patch up as many bullet holes as I have, and they don’t seem so wonderful.”

She worked her bottom lip between her teeth, searching for a weapon. “So, what do we do?”

He grasped her arm and pulled her toward the closet door. “We do nothing. You get in that closet, back behind my suits, and don’t move until either I tell you, or you hear Kieran’s voice.” He pushed her into the closet.

Tiffany caught his wrist when he tried to pull away. “There’s no way I’m staying in the closet.”

The argument went no further, not when the door to the room opened. From her spot, Tiffany couldn’t see the intruder, couldn’t see anything.

Marshall pulled back, gaze toward the door, his face hard in a way she’d never seen before, his lip pulled up to bare his teeth. “Whatever you’re looking for, you aren’t going to find it here. I’m sure you already grabbed anything that looked like you could get a few dollars from it, so take that and go. Cops will be here in a few minutes.”

The voice that answered was male, but Marshall’s body kept her from leaving the closet or from seeing him. “Where is she?”

Tiffany’s breath stilled, but Marshall’s answering snarl frightened her more.

“Leave, now.”

“Not until I have what I came for.”

“If it’s her, then you’re leaving empty-handed.” His gaze dropped, but no fear showed in his face. “That doesn’t change my answer.”

Marshall moved forward, but he didn’t fully leave the closet door before he stopped, shoved backward then went forward again.

Tiffany sprang from the closet, finally able to see the fight. A single man sat wrestled with Marshall, a beta from the scent. They moved too fast for her to identify any specifics, but she didn’t think she knew him.

Dark hair hung over his forehead, and he wore an all-black outfit. A gun sat on the ground, and when he tried to reach for it, Marshall yanked them clear.

Still, neither gained ground, neither seemed closer to wining the fight. The man again went for the gun, but Marshall rolled them the other way.

Tiffany tried to edge around them. If she could reach the gun, she could at least remove that from the equation. No gun would reduce the chance anyone might get killed. As she moved around them, something caught her ankle.

She tripped forward, her hand catching the gun and shoving it as she tried to catch her fall. Her shoulder screamed when the action aggravated the healing injury. She rolled to find the man’s hand wrapped around her ankle in a bruising grip. He yanked, and she slid along the hardwood floors, the shirt she wore providing no friction to keep her still.

She lifted her foot and drove it forward, a crunch as it slammed into his nose. Her foot came free, and she reached beneath the low bed, feeling for the where the gun had slid.

Marshall still fought with the man, but a lucky elbow to Marshall’s face meant the man pulled free while Marshall shook off the hard blow.

The man grabbed Tiffany’s leg as she squirmed partway beneath the bed, reaching for the gun, her fingers brushing something metal and heavy. He pulled, and her shirt rode up to drag her hip against the floor. She released a hiss at the way it scraped her skin, but even as she swung her foot again, she couldn’t make contact.

He pulled her enough that she rolled onto her back as she struggled. He moved up, crawling over her, his hands pinning her beneath him. He didn’t grope, didn’t try to touch her. Even as his body surrounded her, his thigh falling between hers, hips holding her down, he didn’t do anything sexual.

He moved his hands from her arms to her neck, but she lifted her hips to try to throw him. It knocked him forward, but he caught himself with his hand on the ground. Again, he sat back and wrapped a hand around her throat.

A crack ricocheted in the room, loud and sickening. The man’s hand fell from her throat and he collapsed forward. His body, still and lax in a way bodies should never be, had her squirming to get out from under it.

She shoved the heavy body off, then stumbled to her feet. Marshall stood beside her as they both stared down at the man who had broken in, who had come for her.

What now?

* * * *

The frosted glass hid the details of Tiffany’s body, but Kane recognized her. It was in the blurry curves and the scent that filled the room. Even above the soap and shampoo, he could pinpoint that uniquely her scent.

He’d gotten to the house, the big fucking house Marshall owned, with all the cops outside and Kieran going a mile a minute. The asshole had been talking to Sam, going over the details, probably. Marshall stood with them, pointing as he explained.

Kane had caught a bit of it, but they could deal with it later. A subtle nod from Marshall, then he’d gestured upstairs.

Fucking weird. He’d expected the doctor to be as possessive as Kieran, but who the fuck knew.

Kane had taken the stairs, avoiding the cops, avoiding the other alphas, wanting only to see Tiffany, to ensure that she was fine.

The call he’d gotten had made his chest ache. Someone had broken in. When he’d heard that, he’d assumed they’d been after Marshall, or maybe hoped for a lucky score. Only they hadn’t been. They’d asked about ‘her’ and the only her they could have meant was Tiffany.

Was it connected to the warehouse? To Randy? Did she have other secrets she wasn’t sharing? Kane had a million questions but no desire to ask them.

Hell, once he’d crept into the bathroom, once he’d gotten the first whiff of her, he’d known all he needed to about his plan.

His pants hit the floor, not caring if they ended up wet. Once he’d stripped down, he slid into the large glass enclosed shower behind her.

Tiffany stood with her front to him, her head back and eyes closed, water pouring down her hair. He hadn’t seen it free before, hadn’t realized how long it was. His mouth watered at the way her tits pressed forward, pale skin pink from the heat and steam that filled the small enclosed space. The necklace hung down her, nestled in the valley between her breasts. She never seemed to take it off since she’d found it, like some talisman. Funny, since it didn’t seem to have helped the last omega too much.

Was it some vigil? Fuck if he knew.

The lust in him sizzled until his gaze found a new scrape over her right hip.

“Aren’t you supposed to knock?” she asked with her eyes still closed.

“Don’t care for knocking. I need the element of surprise on my side.”

“When dealing with enemies, sure.”

“You’re one of the most dangerous things I’ve chased, so I think I’ll keep the odds stacked my way best I can.” He moved closer, then stroked beside the scrape. “What happened here?”

“Slid on the floor.”

Kane crouched down to survey the shallow wound. Not too deep, but large enough it’d be fucking sore as it healed. Sometimes scrapes were the worst, the large area of damage enough to make healing a bitch. He pressed a kiss above it, then another to the inside edge. He followed that, lining the entire wound with those kisses until his lips pressed to the top of her mound, beside the inner crease of her hip. Water splashed down on him, kept the chill of the room away.

He was surrounded by her scent, so close that a hard press of his tongue between where her legs hid her pussy and he could taste her.

He bracketed his hands on her hips. “Look at me, doll.” Staring up at her, seeing every inch of her luscious body on display had his cock hard and heavy between his legs.

She tipped her head down and opened those pretty eyes. So much hidden there, or at least so much she tried to hide. Worry. Fear. Fuck people for asking too much of her, for expecting her to be fine with shit, for not realizing how much she wanted to be fine.

“You did good.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Right now? Lean back against that wall and let go. You’re thinking too hard, worrying too much, and I don’t much like it.”

“I’ve got to figure this out.” She scooted back at the urging of his hands.

Once her back hit the tile, he tapped her ankles so she spread them wide. “You think people ain’t already working on that? You’re gonna walk out of this shower in twenty minutes, and you’re going to have to deal with whatever’s going on. That ain’t changing. You won’t know shit more than you do now, but you’ll be worked up, and you’ll be tense and you won’t be thinking straight. So, knock it off.”

“I don’t know how.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her slit before using his thumbs to tilt her hips forward, to give him access to her cunt, to let him have everything he’d been thinking about. “Give me a few fucking minutes, and I swear you won’t be thinking about shit.”

He waited, gaze on hers, asking. He wanted her to trust him, to give in to him, to know that he’d help her and afterward? Well, afterward they’d fucking end whoever had dared to target her. The reasons didn’t matter, because they’d picked the wrong girl to fuck with. With my girl.

Her fingers, still in his hair, loosened. Kane had his tongue on her before she’d finished her nod.

How could Kane distract her? The worries swirled in her mind, and even after the blood from the man had washed down the drain, even after she’d used water so hot she feared a burn, she came no closer to an answer.

Who was after her? Why? What was she supposed to do about any of it?

She thought Kane would have no chance of what he’d claimed until the first swipe of his tongue made her thoughts blank. His tongue, hot and firm and relentless, licked across her clit in a hard and sure stroke. It wasn’t like his finger, wasn’t like her own or a vibrator. It didn’t feel like anything she could compare it to.

The touch was soft, slippery, and made her cunt grow wet. It probed her clit, tracing along the sides, moving over her in a way she couldn’t predict. He explored her, finding every secret, every fold, every tiny crevice of her pussy.

Her hips came forward to meet him, to ask for more. She couldn’t think, couldn’t worry, couldn’t do anything but feel. On a hard stroke upward, she rose to her tiptoes, but his hands kept her in place and spread out.

He tilted his head, using the new angle to get his lips involved. He took her hardened clit between his firm lips and sucked, the sensation causing her to cry out.

Had the shower muffled the sound? Maybe. Who cares? He let her go with a noisy pop, then took one hand off her hip.

“You taste delicious, doll, like I knew you fucking would. You got a cunt meant for feasting on, but I know that sound you’re making. You empty?” His lips pulled into a promising grin, and even in the soaked shower, she knew the shine on his lips came from her.

Kane didn’t wait for her to answer, taking two fingers and shoving them into her with a hard push. The stretch bordered on painful, but that was what she needed. She needed him to overwhelm her so much she couldn’t think past the feelings. She needed him to take her so hard, to force her to only react, to live only in the moment.

He must have understood her need, because that was what he gave her. He set a hard pace with those long fingers, fucking her in a way her own fingers hadn’t done the night before. He forced her to take them, over and over again.

“You’re so fucking tight. Funny that with how needy this cunt is, you’re still so tight. Won’t be after I fuck you, though. Nah, you’ll be stretched out on my knot.” His breath spilled over her clit before he blew a stream of cold air that drew a shiver from her. “You got any idea how many times I’ve come thinking about that? Thinking about all the ways I’m gonna fuck you, and trust me, it’ll be a lot. Gonna put you on all fours and mount you. Gonna hold you up against a wall like this and pin you there with my cock, force you to take every inch I got. Fuck, gonna lay you out on a bed, tip that head of yours back, and slide my cock down that throat. You know how tempting that shit is? I want to feel you gagging on me, feel you give in and swallow me down, see the way my cock’ll look down your throat, those pretty tears that’ll fall outta the corners of your eyes.”

Tiffany couldn’t breathe as she pictured it, as if she were there, as though she already had his dick between her lips. How would it feel to be so powerless? To give in so fully to him? All that power, all that strength, all above her and using her mouth as he wanted to?

She tightened her hand in his hair, pushing his lips back to her clit as the image overwhelmed her.

He chuckled against her cunt before giving her what she wanted. He licked once more, a lazy stroke that even went down to where his fingers still fucked her, to where her lower lips stretched around him, before he latched around her clit again. He sucked with deep draws, rhythmic and building in pressure. Each pull had her moaning louder, had her fingers tightening and her hips rolling toward him.

He set her off when he pulled back and shoved a third thick finger into her. Any other time she’d have said it hurt, but right then? The burn, the sting, the too-damned-much sensation melted into something wonderful inside her.

Her legs shook as she came against his lips and around his fingers. He didn’t stop, fucking her harder if anything, taking every sound she made as an offer to keep going, to take more, to give more. Each drag of his large knuckles against her spasming walls made her yank his hair to stop, but he didn’t.

He growled, loud even above the falling water, but he didn’t release her. His gaze flashed up to hers, and he reminded her of a beast with a meal. He was a man with no intention of letting it go.

He scraped his teeth over her swollen clit and curved his fingers inward, toward her front wall. Before the first orgasm had even faded, before she’d caught her breath, he shoved her head-first into another. It crashed over her, dragging her beneath the enormity of it. She gasped in greedy lungfuls of air, but it didn’t cool her, didn’t help.

Especially because he still didn’t stop. He still didn’t give her a break.

“Please,” she begged, her legs trembling and weak.

“One more.”

“I can’t.”

“Yeah, you can. One more and I know you won’t fucking worry about shit. Plus? This thing in my head is screaming to not let you go, screaming to fuck you against this wall. You got any idea how hard it is to deny it? To not shove my dick so deep into you that you won’t ever forget it?” He nuzzled her thigh, never letting his nose drift far from her, as though he still needed the scent and planned to tattoo it on his DNA. “You keep getting hurt, and you keep smelling like these other alphas, and now that I got you to myself for a minute, I ain’t wanting to let you go. Since I’ll have to, give me one more. I want to see you over-fucking-whelmed and crying and shaking for me.”

Tiffany wanted to say no. She wanted to tell him she couldn’t.

The lust in his dark eyes, the need that went deeper than anything she’d seen before had her nodding.

He traced his tongue up the crease of her thigh, the pink against her skin like a reminder of where that tongue had been and where it was going again. He offered a nip to her hip bone, a sting that was like him—unpredictable, uncomfortable, too much.

As quickly as it had happened, he returned to her pussy. His lips surrounded her clit, a nip like the one he’d done earlier, but to her clit? She bucked her hips forward. For more? Less?

She didn’t know.

He pressed three fingers deep into her, then pulled one out. The loss had her whining, but the whine turned startled when he twisted his wrist and pressed that same finger to her ass. The pressure made it clear what he planned.

He didn’t coax like Kieran had when he’d done that. No, this wasn’t a game, this wasn’t him testing to see if she liked it. He pressed against her hole with purpose.

He was going to fuck her ass with that finger, while his other two took her cunt, and he planned for her to come while he did it.

The tightening of her stomach said she would.

Tiffany’s mouth dropped open, her hand flinging to the side, catching the shower handle to ground herself against the unfamiliar pressure of his finger.

He growled low. Not a purr to reassure her, but a sound to scold her. Even without his voice, she recognized the meaning, could hear it as well as if he’d spoken out loud. Stop trying to keep me out, doll. I’m gonna fuck your asshole and you’re gonna love it. You’ll only feel it more if you keep clenching, but it won’t stop me.

He scraped her clit with his teeth again, causing her to clench everywhere, and as soon as she loosened again, he pressed hard. His finger, soaked from her wetness, sank into her ass.

It wasn’t much. He had only pushed in to the first knuckle, and only one finger, yet the feeling went straight to her cunt. It was wrong and weird and new and so much more than she could process. She wanted less and more at the same time, wanted him to pull out and yet the thought made her clutching hands curl to pull him deeper.

His growl transformed into a wild snarl, one she felt through where his mouth pressed tight to her, and she lost any fight she might have had.

As he withdrew the finger and fucked her again, all fingers moving at once, his lips adding pressure to her clit, she came.

This time he eased her through it, softening his touch so he offered light flicks of his tongue and a gentle rocking of his fingers, enough to prolong it, to bring her down, to soften the effects. His lips left her clit, instead showering affection on her cunt, her thighs, her hips. He caught any drop of her juices he could find before withdrawing his fingers.

The pull against her sensitive ass as he left her made her cry out, something between pain and pleasure.

“Easy,” he whispered as he stood and placed his forehead to hers.

Tiffany leaned up to kiss him, but the moment she tasted herself, she lavished the same affection on him. She used her tongue to clean her cunt from his lips, to taste her own need on him. He only groaned and allowed it, his fingers carding through her hair.

When she’d finished, when her lids felt too tired to lift, with her body worn out and buzzing at the same time, he pulled her flush against him for a kiss.

And Tiffany knew, whatever was going to happen, she couldn’t lose this.

* * * *

Kieran held his temper even as Kane sat beside Tiffany. When she’d come down the stairs beside him, reeking of the other alpha, Kieran had ground his teeth so tight his jaw ached. He’d said nothing, not wanting to worsen the situation.

He didn’t own her. She’d been through enough without worrying about him flying off the handle.

With all the risks and unknowns involved, the smartest thing seemed to go somewhere unexpected to talk.

It left them all at Bryce, Joshua and Kaidan’s home. Well, theirs and Claire’s, their unexpected omega. The feminine touches showed where she’d left her mark on the home she’d claimed. The woman had once held a gun on Kieran, making it clear that despite how fragile she appeared, she’d been created with tougher stuff. Not that he held grudges.

Marshall sat at the kitchen island beside Kaidan. Joshua and Claire sat on the floor by the table, and Kieran and Bryce paced while Sam leaned against the armrest of the couch.

“Do we have an ID on the man who broke in?” Bryce halted his pacing long enough to toss Sam the question.

“Yeah. Bradly Howard. Two-bit criminal who does others’ dirt work.”

“But if he’s dead, it’s over, right?” Tiffany asked.

Kieran and Bryce exchanged loaded looks. Her voice held so much hope he’d have liked to tell her yes, to say it was over and she could sleep easily.

He couldn’t lie, though. “No. Someone like him wasn’t after you for himself. Whoever he is working for is the problem, and since he failed, they’ll send someone else.”

“Someone for what, though? I haven’t done anything!”

Joshua answered. “You did something—we just don’t know what, yet. I pulled the cameras on Kieran’s house. Same two cars have been passing it and parking down the street. They didn’t realize his security cameras could zoom that far.”

“They’ve been watching me there, too?” Ah, there was that spark of anger Tiffany had. She didn’t sound so frightened anymore, with anger taking over. Good, he’d rather she be pissed.

Sam stepped in. “My guess is they tossed your place looking for something. They tore it apart too well and didn’t take anything, so they had to be searching it. I’d say that man did it then waited for you to show. Marshall’s cameras didn’t show anything, so he probably followed you from your place to Marshall’s.”

“For what?”

“People only track down someone for a couple of reasons. One, the person knows something. Two, they have something. Three, they can get something. Since he searched your apartment first, I’d guess they think you have something.”

“But what?”

He shrugged. “If I knew that, I’d already have this closed up. The timing is strange, though. It all started after Randy, after the hospital. So far, we’re looking at it involving Randy, your old life or what happened at the warehouse.”

“That’s a lot of options,” Tiffany offered.

Kane squeezed her knee. “We’ll figure it out, doll, but we can’t go back to any of our places. Whoever the fuck we’re dealing with is well connected and knows where we all live.”

Kieran hated to agree with the asshole, but he was right. “I need to take her somewhere off the grid, something unconnected to anything.”

“You? Fuck that, I’m going, too,” Kane said.

Before Kieran could argue, Marshall spoke up. “I’m going, too. I’ve already talked to hospital and told them I’m taking some personal time. And don’t argue, Kieran. Are you going to tell me she wouldn’t be safer with three of us watching than with just you?”

Kieran wanted to argue—he wanted to tell them they could all fuck off, that he wanted that time with her on his own. Except Marshall was right, and her safety was more important than his jealousy.

He snarled low. “Fine. That doesn’t tell us where to go.”

Tiffany sat up straighter, meeting his gaze. “I’ve got somewhere in mind. It’s a few hours out of town, in the middle of nowhere.”

“Any connection to you?”

“None. I know the omega who owns it under another fake name, and she hides out there all the time. There’s no way they could know about it.”

Kieran nodded, the idea sound. Away from town meant no accidental sightings, no credit cards to follow a trail, or hotel rooms. “Sam, you’ll keep working the case from this side and keeping us updated?”

Sam nodded. “Of course.”

Bryce spoke up from his spot. “We’re doing everything we can, too, digging into the man’s past, trying to find some connections.”

Kieran took a deep breath. Running wasn’t something he liked to do, but damn it, Tiffany’s life meant too much. Until they knew who was after her, knew what they were dealing with, the best plan was to get her as far away from the danger as possible.

It seemed all four of them would be going on a trip together.

He had no idea if any of them would survive it.