August: Mating Fever (Bears of Kodiak Book 2) (3 page)

His tongue dove in, acting like it belonged inside of her. And dammit, she let him. Because she wanted it there. She was a siren about to explode from want, for release from this nagging, raging itch he’d started in her a month ago.

Jackson wasn’t soft or delicate. She consumed him, dragging her fingers along his scalp and digging in hard enough to make him hiss and squirm.

Something hard and long poked into her upper thigh, and she didn’t have to glance down to know he had a raging hard-on. Angry at him for making her want this, she fisted his shirt, holding him hostage as she plundered his mouth over and over again. Her teeth joined in the action as she sucked and nibbled on his tongue, consuming him.

He growled, and her head swam with dizzy thoughts of sex and moans and skin on skin.

“No.” He tore his mouth away and slammed his hands on the wall behind her, caging her in. “No. We can’t do this.”

Wiping at her swollen lips, she knew she looked as if she’d just been screwed good, but she was too angry to care. “I never asked you to,” she snapped, angry at him, at herself, at the whole effing world.

August wasn’t traditionally gorgeous. But there was something primal, raw, and rugged about him that appealed to her on a base level. Something primitive inside of her recognized the primitive inside of him.

He looked like a barely leashed animal ready to tear her head off. It was sick, but she wanted it. She loved his fire and his danger. She had always been a sucker for the bad boy, and no matter what had happened to her in Angoon, nothing had changed.

Jaw clenching tightly, he gritted out. “Not Blue.”

What?
More confused than anything, she shook her head. The bluster died inside of her instantly. “Excuse me?”

“Anyone else but Blue.”

When it dawned on her what he was saying, what he meant, she couldn’t help herself. She slapped him.

He growled as his cheek glowed a bright cherry red. His look was wild, but his body was absolutely still. August looked as though he wanted to explode, to shift into his grizzly and tear her head from her neck.

“You don’t get to do that, August. You either want me, or you let me go and let me choose. And if it’s Blue, it’s Blue. You got me?” she hissed, breathing in raggedly, hating that she probably wouldn’t hear what she really wanted to hear from him. But she was masochistic enough to wait and hope.

“I can’t,” he whispered hoarsely.

It was as if someone had reached a fist into her body and twisted her gut in his hand, pulverizing it to bloody ash.

So when he reached out for her, she flinched, ready to open her mouth and shove all her siren venom down his throat.

But he surprised her. Instead, he took a lock of hair that had slipped over her shoulder and rubbed it gently between his thumb and forefinger. His movements were completely at odds with the fire that still burned through his gaze. “Jack, what are you doing to me?”

That peek of broken honesty finally caused her to listen to her instincts and run. From him. From the want. But most especially, from the memories of a man she had found and lost long ago.

August

A
t well past three in the morning, the last barfly of the night finally straggled out of the Yard with a drunken, “gonna go get me sum” in his wake.

Shaking his head, August glanced over at Madison and Jack who were wiping down tables and setting up chairs so they could sweep, mop, and go home themselves.

It was a Friday night, and the haul had been good, the bar busy.

Madison lifted a brow. Without missing a beat, she continued her nightly cleanup and asked, “What’s up, boss?”

Lately, the she-dragon had displayed a bit of an edge. He knew why even though he tried like hell to pretend he didn’t.

Phoenix should have never gone there. He’d warned his brothers often enough to never mess with a dragon. They were far more territorial than any other Breed alive. But Phoenix just couldn’t resist sticking his cock in things that came wrapped up in a sexy package like Madi.

“Go home,” he said, weary and bleary-eyed. It had been a long-ass night. For the past three months, he hadn’t managed more than three or four hours of sleep a night max.

His body was readying itself for the mating ritual that was just around the corner.

It might be winter, but spring wasn’t far away. August keenly felt the lapsing of time like a fist to the gut.

“I still have shit to do,” Madi snapped then sharply slammed the seats upside down on the table, causing the sturdy steel base to wiggle from the impact.

Flicking a glance at Jackson, August was at a loss. After that stupid encounter with her in the freezer two months prior, he’d forced himself to cool things down to nil. He treated her no differently than anyone else.

That wasn’t really true. He was probably a little harder on her, a little more demanding with her.

“Jack can do it,” he said, not looking at her, pretending as if he didn’t feel her heated gaze slice right through him.

She was pissed, no doubt.

Earlier in the evening, he’d overheard Blue bragging to his buddy that he had a hot date with a hot piece of tail. It made no damned difference to August what Jack did on her time off, but she was still on the clock. If she wanted her paycheck. She would do as he said.

Clenching his teeth, he ignored that small voice in the back of his head that called him a damned liar. Of all the companions she could have chosen, why Blue, the town slut?

Blue would use her and leave her and—

Realizing what he was thinking, he shook his head. None of his business. That’s what she was. None of his damned business. He’d made that clear to her. There was no one else to blame for this mess but him.

Jackson tossed down her rag, and he was finally forced to look up at her. What he saw made his heart beat jaggedly in his chest.

Gods, she was gorgeous.

She only seemed to get better looking each day. Those luscious lips of hers—that he could never forget the taste and texture of even though he’d only sampled them once—were set in a flat scowl of disgust.

“I have plans, August,” Jackson said. “You can’t—”

He pulled all the money out of the till and slammed it shut. Snatching up the bank bag, he growled, “I can. And I have. Do as I said, Madison. Go home.”

Madison’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. Her neck rotated from him to Jack and back again as though unsure of what to do. But finally, she shook her head and mumbled, “Whatever. Sorry, Jack.”

Jackson was visibly seething as she took over where Madison left off.

In looks, the two women bore striking similarities, close enough that they could almost be sisters. They both had dark brown hair and light-colored eyes. They were even close to the same height, roughly five-nine or five-ten, with Jack being a little on the shorter side, but not by much.

They were big-breasted, long-legged, and sexy as hell. Clearly, he and his brother had a type.

Phoenix, being the oldest of the three, had given them all advice when the New Year had rolled around. Sex it up. Whore it up. But stay far away from anything that could entangle their hearts.

Chance had no problem keeping to that rule. The youngest Hawthorne was a proud man-whore. And while Phoenix had an eye for the ladies, he’d always been one who didn’t jump into anything quickly. One-night stands weren’t something he was comfortable with.

August was closer to Phoenix in his leanings, but where Phoenix would occasionally indulge when the need grew too strong, August had pretty much sworn off women.

It hadn’t even fazed him until Jack had walked into his bar, looking for a job.

Turning, he walked back to his office, blowing out a heavy breath as his overly sensitive nose caught the scent of Jack’s perfume. Cool and sweet, it almost reminded him of her waters.

“Damn it,” he bit out, wondering if he might finally be forced to break his fast and ask Chance if he knew of anyone looking for a good time with no strings attached.

The heavy stomping off Jack’s feet as she came after him pulled a smile to his lips. She might be a breath of fresh air, and while her temper was nothing compared to a dragon’s, she was a feisty siren all the same.

“Jack,” he said coolly, in no way hinting at the inner turmoil he suffered, knowing they were completely alone for the first time since their encounter in the freezer.

She laid a hand on his shoulder and tugged on his shirt until he was forced to either turn around or let her tear it. The thing was as ratty as hell, but it was his favorite ratty-as-hell shirt, so yeah...

Sighing, he turned.

She was dressed in another one of her skimpy tops, just an a-shirt with the white-stenciled Junk Yard logo on it. Her long, sexy legs were wrapped up in skintight blue jeans that looked practically painted on. Her hair was long and loose. Normally, she wore it up. Even more rare, she wore makeup. The smoky eye shadow made her clear blue eyes pop electric, and her red lips had him instantly hard.

He shifted on the balls of his feet, lifting an irritated brow, not at her, but himself. Just looking at her turned him into a prepubescent cub.

“Why’d you send Madison home like that? You know I have a—”

Cutting her off before she could say anything else about Blue and his fat, ugly face—neither of which was technically true, but whatever—he held up his hand. “I sent her home because Phoenix and Chance are dropping by in about ten minutes.”

Immediately, he saw the fire in her eyes fizzle out. Her stiffened shoulders slouched, and she covered her eyes with her hand. “Sorry,” she mumbled—more like gritted, really. “I thought you were just being a douche again.”

He supposed he deserved that. August wasn’t really sure how to fix the mess he’d created.

Jack hadn’t expected anything out of him after that kiss, other than for him to not act like a giant D-bag. He’d gone out of his way to either ignore her or treat her with indifference when he did actually decide to acknowledge her.

If he told her the real reason behind why he was treating her the way he was, he doubted she would care at that point. He’d done a damned fine job of burning that bridge.

It was late. He’d had a beer, and his guard was down. For months, he’d seen her flirt and tease everyone in that bar, charming the pants off of everything she met because that’s just who Jack was.

And every day, he kept swearing that finally he would shake whatever the hell compulsion she had on him. But he was a liar, and he knew it.

Sirens could affect people without touching them, but a person could feel the grip of their magick when they did it.

That didn’t mean the victims were unaware of the compulsion. She had played by his rules, turning on the charm only when she sang in front of a crowd, but her magick hadn’t been dark or deadly.

She’d done everything he’d asked of her without complaint.

Swallowing hard and knowing he would damn himself in the morning for what he was about to do, he curled his fingers around her trim biceps and held on for dear life.

Save me, Jack
...

For the first time in ever, he damned the necessity of an arcane ritual that was screwing up his life. He knew he had to do it, knew there was no way around doing it. Always a company man, August had taken life at point blank. Things were as they were, and that was that. If you couldn’t escape your fate, then you just embraced it and moved on.

But now he found himself cursing the necessity of it, loathing the very idea of it. He was being forced to love another, not because his heart wanted to, but because instinct told him to. What kind of shit was that?

She gasped, going absolutely still, the way prey would right before being consumed.

But she was no prey. Jackson had the power to bring even a mighty dragon like Madison to her knees if she really wanted to.

“What are you doing, August?” Her words were a scratchy burr that made him weak in the knees.

He sucked in a sharp breath at the sound of her voice, hearing the telltale shiver of magick behind it. That quiver in her voice told him one thing—she wasn’t as unaffected by him as she tried so hard to make him believe.

He’d screwed up royally. He knew that. But he also knew there was still a chance for him if he was willing to take it. Stepping completely into her bubble of space, he shook his head, a silent recrimination for what he was about to do.

The fire had been a slow burn between them for months. Stolen looks. A touch of a hand here or there. Even when they fought, the energy of what was happening between them grew.

Inhaling sharply, she was the one to make the first move. Moving her hand, she fisted his shirt and shoved him hard against the wall. Her face hovered mere inches from his. She shared his breath, and his skin danced with power.

“You play with fire, August,” she hissed.

Nodding, he said nothing. What was there to say? She was right. Reaching up, he tugged at one of the loose curls of her hair, wrapping his finger around it and jerking just enough to make her exhale sharply. She pressed her breasts flat against his chest as she moved deeper into the curve of his body.

The juncture of their thighs touched, and he knew she felt him when her eyes widened.

They hadn’t even really touched, but already he was on fire. His stomach churned with need, and his cock ached. All he would have to do was rub against her a few times. That friction alone would be enough to make him shoot off in his pants.

But she deserved so much better than that, than this, than him. In a few months, he wouldn’t care about her. He would forget everything about her, about the way he felt at that moment. She would cease to matter to him. He would have no choice, and neither would she.

He wasn’t being fair to her.

“No!” she snapped, shoving her fists into his chest as though she’d read his thoughts. “You don’t get to decide my life for me, you stupid, pig-headed grizzly.”

Without further warning, she swooped in, taking command of the situation as she kissed him. The kiss was as rough and violent as it had been the first time.