Jealous And Freakn' (7 page)

* * * *

Alejandro wanted to curse his brother out for interrupting the moment with Francine. Fleeing him, her confusion—and yes, lust—plain to see. He longed to chase after her, to make her admit she wanted him. That she wanted to forget her plan with Mitchell and be with him instead.

In the space of twenty-four hours, Alejandro, ladies man and king of the one night stands, had fallen hard for a short and curvy she-wolf. And despite what he tried to tell himself, he knew with a certainty he’d rarely felt in his life that one taste would never be enough.

But how to convince her that while perhaps Mitchell was meant for her, it seemed fate decided she’d also have another?

I could
seduce
her, make love to her delectable body all night long. Make her forget about going to the club.
But would she resent him in the morning for ruining her chance with the idiot she’d loved so long? And by seducing her, would he perhaps drive Mitchell away forever? An interesting prospect for him, but one she might never forgive him for.

This indecision sucked, so it was with a sigh of annoyance that he answered the call on his cell.

“What?”

“Well hello to you too, little brother. Did I interrupt something?”

“I wish,” he grumbled.

“Ah, is a woman finally giving you the run around? Welcome to the club. Don’t forget, I was in your shoes almost a year ago so I know the feeling. I will say this, though; Naomi was worth every bit of the chase. Don’t give up. If you feel that strongly about her, things will work out.”

What a surreal topic of conversation, one he’d never expected to have. “It’s crazy,” Alejandro replied, the sound of the shower upstairs letting him know he could talk freely. “I mean, I barely know her, and yet, it’s like I’ve known her forever. All day long, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And as for my cat… Fucking kitty is going insane in my mind, wanting to bite her and mark her. I’m afraid to shift for fear it will start pissing all over her house, leaving its scent to warn others off.”

A chuckle came through the earpiece. “Sounds familiar. Don’t worry, while that feeling won’t go away entirely, even once you’ve claimed her, it will become easier to bear once you don’t have to fight it.”

“Yeah, well, that’s if she ever lets me claim her. She’s still convinced Mitchell is her one and only. I made the stupid suggestion of using me as jealousy bait so she thinks everything I do is part of this plan to get the stupid dog.”

“So tell her how you feel.”

“And scare her off? I can’t take the chance. Nor can I interfere with her plan to capture Mitchell’s interest for fear she’ll hate me.”

More laughter filled his ear. “Ahh, poor baby brother. I’d wager that you’re slated to be in a threesome like me and Ethan. Can you handle sharing?”

“Never thought about it,” he answered honestly. “Then again, I also never thought I’d ever find a mate like you either. The idea of having to share her with another man…” Should have disgusted him, made him walk away, done something other than rouse his curiosity as to how he’d feel watching her in the arms of another. Or more decadent, joining in.

He’d seen the happiness Ethan and his brother shared with Naomi, heard their indiscreet cries of pleasure as they spent every night together, the three of them at once. Could he handle it?
If it means pleasing Francine? Probably
,
dammit.

“Don’t let the whole other guy thing wig you out. Just keep your focus on her and you’ll see the pleasure is well worth it. But discussing my sex life wasn’t the reason why I called. Some dude has been staking out the neighborhood and I think it’s because of you.”

“Oh that’s priceless. Blame me even if I’m not there.”

“Who else should I blame when the truck we found stashed in the woods has plates with a dealership sticker from our hometown?”

A curse slipped from him. “What does the stalker look like?”

As Javier described the man, Alejandro’s grip on the phone tightened to the point he heard plastic cracking. “Fuck. He followed me.”

“Who?”

“Bloody hunter whose daughter I banged one night drunk. I think he saw me shifting in the woods when I left her room.”

“You fucking idiot.”

“It wasn’t my fault. I’d left her bedroom and thought I was alone. The bastard was hiding in a blind wearing some fucking animal piss that masked his scent. He took a pot shot at me, but I got away. The next day, I heard he was in town making inquiries, trying to find out who I was. Rather than lead him to Mama and the others, I thought I’d take a vacation and visit family.”

“And led him straight to us.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t expect him to find my trail.” A trite reply to a possible sticky situation.

Javier sighed. “Don’t worry about it. Shit happens. I’ll let the neighborhood know and we’ll be on our guard. You might want to stay away from here though. I don’t want Naomi in danger.”

Just the thought of her or the babies she carried getting hurt made him sick to his stomach. “I should probably go to a hotel so that Francine is safe too.”

“And leave her alone if he’s already found you?”

Double fuck.
He couldn’t leave her unguarded. “Good point. Thanks for the warning. I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”

They exchanged good-byes and hung up. Staring at the ceiling where the sound of water running had stopped, he couldn’t help clenching his fists in anger.
If that
bastard
dares to harm a hair on her head…
He’d kill him, pure and simple.

Chapter Seven

Hanging off his arm, nattering nonstop, Mitchell refrained from sighing at Jenny’s annoying presence. In the past, he’d never noticed certain things about her, such as her too slim frame—unlike someone’s plush, curvy one. Ignored her habit of using too much makeup—so different from a certain fresh-faced girl with freckles he knew. Tuned out her stupid attempts at conversation, while recalling the fun he’d had verbally sparring with another.

Even on a date with a girl guaranteed to give him a good time, he couldn’t stop thinking about Francine. Worse, he kept comparing her to Jenny, and poor Jenny, she couldn’t seem to win in any category.

He actually began thinking of ways to ditch his eager date when
they
came in. Looking ridiculously gorgeous—and nothing like a sister, dammit—Francine wore a short red skirt that flared, a tight top that showed off cleavage deep enough to swallow a hand, oh and a certain cat, whose possessive arm around her staked his claim quite effectively.

Bright eyes only lightly outlined with dark eyeliner skimmed over him, and he didn’t miss the quirk of her lips as she took in his date who chose that moment to hang herself on his neck like a pendant. Before he could disentangle her, Francine tugged at Alejandro, leading him toward the bar, but Alejandro changed her direction, instead leading her onto the dance floor.

It briefly crossed Mitchell’s mind to wonder what she did here, this techno club not her usual hang out. His sister and Francine usually preferred cocktail type bars. Not that how she’d gotten here mattered. Present, and looking entirely too delicious, he couldn’t push her from his mind. An irrational urge came over him. He needed to see her, touch her.
Mark her,
whispered his wolf. However, instead of doing any of those things, he stayed put, and lost sight of her among the dense bodies. His beast just about lost its mind, pacing and growling that he find her. Surely a peek wouldn’t hurt, a glimpse to ensure nothing untoward happened whilst in the grips of the seducer.

“Let’s dance.” He dragged Jenny, craning to locate a mop of auburn curls, and when he found it, both man and beast let out a low growl. Stopping dead on the dance floor, he watched as Francine danced with Alejandro, her hourglass shape undulating to the music’s fast tempo, the cat’s hands on her hips guiding her. A hypnotic sight if he ignored the other male and imagined himself in his stead.

An arm wrapped around him from behind, a bony frame pressing up to his back. Jenny shouted in his ear, “I thought we were going to dance?”

Pivoting, he tried not to let his annoyance show on his face. Poor Jenny. She’d done nothing to deserve his ire. He moved jerkily to the toe-tapping rhythm, trying not to cringe when his date kept rubbing against him. Harder to fight was his urge to peer back at Francine and see what she did. He lost that battle. Twirling Jenny, he swapped places with her in time to catch the girl that he could no longer consider as a sister, dirty dancing with the cat. Facing away from Alejandro, she gyrated her buttocks against him while the seducer let his hands roam over her stomach, sliding them to a point just under her breasts then down again to clasp her hips.

Unbidden, Mitchell’s cock swelled at the sight, their dance so mesmerizing and sensual that he wanted to join them, press in on her from the front, have her hands wander over his back as he hungrily devoured her mouth.

“Mitchell,” yelled a voice that didn’t sound like a husky promise coated in laughter. “I’m so flattered.” It took a hand cupping his crotch for him to clue in on what Jenny meant. He recoiled from her touch, repulsed and imbued with a sense of guilt. Not at having gotten caught lusting for another woman, but because he didn’t want Francine to see Jenny touching him.

His distaste didn’t go unnoticed. Confusion twisted Jenny’s face, and he could see her opening her mouth to speak. An answer eluded him so he took the cowardly route. He turned on his heel and made a beeline for the bar.

Unfortunately, she followed, not so easily ditched.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jenny asked, her fingers digging into his arm, trying to stop him.

“This was a bad idea.” Such a bad idea, because like a fever, thoughts of Francine consumed him, and his Jenny remedy just wouldn’t do.

“What was a bad idea? Dancing? We can leave anytime you like. My roommate’s gone for the night. We’ve got the place to ourselves,” she said seductively, pressing herself to his side.

God, how he wished he could take her up on the offer. Screw something until this crazy mess in his head sorted itself. But the thought of banging Jenny and not Francine shriveled his dick better than an arctic swim.

Shit, how to get out of this pickle? Honesty seemed like his best option. Wasn’t that what women always clamored for? “The mistake I meant was you and me going on a date. I’m sorry, Jenny, you’re a nice girl and all, but I think we need to just be friends.”

Her jaw dropped and hurt made her eyes glisten. “But, I thought you wanted to be with me? Isn’t that why you called? I mean, everyone knows you and me are going to get together eventually. You just need to sow some oats first before you settle down.”

Feeling like an ass, but needing to make sure she didn’t misunderstand, Mitchell took a deep breath before speaking. “Listen, Jenny. I called you because I was horny. It was wrong of me, I admit it. But I realize now, I can’t do that to you. It wouldn’t be fair.”

“How is it unfair if I’m willing? You don’t have to propose to me tonight. Let’s just go back to my place and I’ll show you why you made the right call.”

She clutched at him, and Mitchell pried her fingers free, trying to refrain from grimacing in distaste. “No. I can’t. I was trying to use you to forget someone else, but it’s not going to work. We aren’t going to work. I’m sorry. I’ll just drive you home.”

“Who is she?”

“No one.”
The hottest woman alive.
“I’m sorry, Jenny. Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

Anger twisted Jenny’s features. “Screw you, Mitchell. Don’t do me any fucking favors. I’ll get my own ass home, and it won’t be alone,” she yelled, shoving at his chest before stalking away.

Sighing, he turned back to the bar and ordered a beer. Despite the nastiness of the past moment, relief swept through him, quickly followed by urgency, make that an overwhelming need to keep tabs on Francine. Sweating brown bottle in hand, he sauntered over to the edge of the dance floor, calling himself all kinds of stupid for doing it, but unable to stay away. Sipping his brew, he found himself riveted by the sight of Francine dancing in the arms of her lover.
Or is it mate like she implied
?
Even the thought roused his wolf, which paced in his mind with a snarl. A rumbling sound of discontent slipped from him that increased with each beer he downed, watching as the girl he lusted after, pure and simple, enjoyed herself in the arms of another.

When Alejandro finally left her side, making his way to the men’s room, Mitchell weaved a path to her side where she stood sipping some fluorescent tinted drink.

“Are you and he an item?” His question emerged terse and abrupt.

Brown eyes of the sweetest chocolate perused him. Her lips pursed, their fullness captivating him. “Would you care if we were? Or are you going to feed me that bullshit about me being a sister and all again?”

“I was just trying to look out after you. I care about you, Francine.”
And I want to kiss you, dammit.

“But you don’t love me,” she stated baldly.

The answer she wanted eluded him. Did he love her? Yes, but as a lover? He wanted her, with an erotic urgency that surprised him. But, he couldn’t lie and tell her he loved her when he still saw her as little more than a friend—a hot and sexy one. “No. But—”

“Do you love Jenny?”

“No. Of course not.”

A heavy sigh left her. “What do you want from me, Mitchell? You want to fuck? Is that it?”

“Yes. No.” He scrubbed hand through his hair, frustrated but still unsure of what he wanted. Actually, he knew what he wanted. To strip her naked, lick every inch of her, then fuck her with his cock until she screamed in his arms. But, at the same time, doing that would open a huge can of worms that he didn’t think he was prepared for. “I want things to go back the way they were, when it wasn’t so freakn’ complicated.”

“You mean before I forced you to actually pay attention to me. To realize I am a woman with needs. A woman looking for her mate to claim her, or at least put out the fire in her body.”

“A part of me wants to,” he whispered, reaching a hand out to stroke a tendril of hair from her face. “But another part of me keeps screaming it’s wrong.”

“I’m not going to wait forever.”

“Can’t you wait long enough for me to sort through this mess in my head? I don’t want to rush into something that we’ll both regret.”

Disappointment flashed in her eyes, and before she could answer, the cat returned, his arm sliding around her from behind. Jealousy stung Mitchell at the casual way she accepted Alejandro’s embrace and the easy way she leaned back into his body, finding refuge in his touch.
I should be the one holding her!

“We were talking,” he growled.

The seducer fixed him with a cold stare. “No, you were making excuses. Again. And I’m tired of it. Some of us aren’t afraid to admit our feelings. To act.” Brazenly, Alejandro, ran a hand up her torso until he cupped a breast. Francine’s breathing hitched, but she did nothing to remove his palm, and an urge to cup her other breast came over Mitchell. He almost had to grab his hand to stop it from actually doing it.

He took a step back in the hopes some space would help him regain control. The cat’s words penetrated. “You’re mates?”

“Not yet, but we will be,” Alejandro said with calm assurance. But Mitchell didn’t miss the surprise in Francine’s eyes when he said it.

“Don’t do it, Francine,” he said, his jealousy winning the battle. “He’s a womanizer. He’ll fuck you then leave you for the first pussy that comes his way. He’ll make you—”

Faster than he would have credited the bastard, Alejandro tucked Francine behind him and threw the first punch, the force of it making Mitchell stagger, his ears ringing. With a roar of rage, and using his turmoil—and blue balls—to fuel it, he attacked back. Fists swinging, he fought the bastard who thought to claim Francine. Who thought to touch the silky skin that he dreamt of. Who kissed the lips that should press against his. Who dared to try and claim his woman.

The screams of bystanders along with the cheers faded into the background as he slugged it out with Alejandro, the satisfying sound of his fist connecting with flesh making him grin savagely. A smile lost when a right hook back loosened some teeth.

The fight lasted only minutes before the bouncers, shapeshifters on steroids who almost rivaled Ethan in size, pried them apart and tossed their asses out of the club. Sprawled on the pavement, Mitchell raised his head, his beast pulsing at the forefront. He snarled, baring his teeth. The damned cat, on all fours, tossed his head back and growled right back, his eyes more animal than human. Their staring match ended up broken by a curvy pair of calves. Letting his gaze travel up the skin, Mitchell swallowed as he saw right up Francine’s short skirt. He couldn’t help but stare at the damp fabric clinging to a cleft whose scent drifted down to him like the sweetest of perfumes.

“Are you done?” she demanded, tapping a foot. “And you can stop looking up my skirt, Mitchell. I am not happy with either of you. I am not some fucking toy that you can use in your testosterone match of tug of war.”

“I’m sorry, Francine.” The cat’s immediate reply came out contrite, and Mitchell sneered.

“Pussy.”

“Enough,” she yelled. “Did you not just hear me, Mitchell? For a guy who can’t say the words ‘I want you’, you’re acting like a possessive jerk.”

“Fine. I want you,” he bit out with a triumphant look at the cat.

“Bullshit. You only think you do because Alejandro had the balls to say he did first. What if he left right now? Would you still say that?”

Would he? If the cat were gone tomorrow, and he didn’t have to worry about Francine in the arms of another, could he go back to his life the way it was? Turmoil free?

“Time’s up. Wrong answer.”

“But, I didn’t say anything,” he protested.

“Exactly,” she said. “I’m done. Alejandro, take me home.”

Turning, she stalked toward the parking lot, and the cat shot him an exultant smile before springing to his feet and following. A red film descended over his eyes, and Mitchell jumped to his feet, ready to charge the bastard again when Jenny, in a blonde fury, stepped in front of him.

“She’s what you ditched me for?” she screeched. “That tubby orphan Annie wannabe? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I am a hundred times better than that slut. That…”

Mitchell tuned Jenny out as he watched Alejandro open Francine’s car door to seat her then slide into the driver’s seat. He ignored her until the red taillights winked out of view, then came back to himself and actually heard the invectives Jenny kept hurling about Francine.

“Shut the fuck up, you anorexic slut,” he snapped. His rebuke made her recoil, but it did nothing to wipe the rage from her twisted features.

“I will not. Since when do you want that redheaded cow?”

“I don’t want her,” he answered automatically.

“Oh, please. Everyone in the club could see you watching her, staring at her like you wanted to eat her up.” Jenny sneered. “But the great part is it looks to me like she doesn’t want you.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. It’s complicated. And none of your damned business.”

She spat at him. “Fuck you, Mitchell. I can do better than you.”

Off she stalked, leaving Mitchell alone finally, and it was then he realized the answer he should have given Francine.
Yes, I want you.
Worse, he probably should have admitted that to her, and himself, years ago. But he’d waited too long and now the woman who tied him in knots left with another.
And I’ve lost my chance.