Running Free (7 page)

My inner animal now is going fucking wild and I grit my teeth. I can’t let him get to me or I’ll end up mothering his children that I know I’ll later regret. Luca, no matter how hot and nice he is to me, is a cheater.

Wild.

Untamable.

It’d end badly for the both of us.

Drawing from my inner strength, I yank myself from his grasp and stumble backward. With a shake of my head, I hiss out a
no
.

“Come on, baby,” he growls.

With Luca, when he wants something, he gets it. It’s worked on me in the past and now I worry in my weakened state, it’ll work on me in the future.

“She said no.”

The familiar voice cuts through the sexual haze I’d nearly succumbed to and my heart thumps to life.

“Gun,” I gasp, not meeting his gaze, while I fumble for some glasses to fill for Luca and the guys. “What are you doing here?”

Luca’s sensual demeanor clatters to the floor and his proverbial hackles rise. “Exactly. Why are you here?” Luca demands. “Aren’t you supposed to be fighting crimes, searching for clues to murders — anywhere besides the fucking bar?”

Gun, unfazed, plops down in a seat and eyeballs the trio. “I’m here on police business. Now, unless you want to get pulled in to the station for hours and hours of questioning, I suggest you let Frankie and I talk. Alone.”

Luca snaps his head to me and I shrug my shoulders. I’m thankful to have the reprieve. Luca is strong, wise, and has incredible senses. Now that he knows I’m having a hard time, sexually, he’s going to pounce.

I just hope I’m ready when he does.

“Fine. Call me later, Frankie. I could keep you warm tonight.”

I roll my eyes and make my way from behind the bar and over to Gun. He flashes me a pleased smile and my heart does more unfamiliar squeezing.

Tonight, he’s hot.

Like more so than usual.

He’s run his fingers through his wet hair and it’s messy on top of his head. It makes me want to slide my own fingers through it and grip it tight. His long-sleeved, tan Henley is plastered to his firm chest and I find myself staring at the dark hair between his pecs that can be seen through the shirt.

“How’s Curly Sue?”

His question jerks me from checking him out and my eyes meet his inquisitive ones.

I’m about to spin a tale when suddenly a young voice shrieks, “Gun!”

Confusion furrows his brow and my stomach drops when two, thin brown arms hug him from behind.

Shit, shit, shit!

“Um,” Gun grunts, lifting his arms and twisting to see who is hugging him.

“Suzie,” I blurt out, “This is Gun. The one I told you all about.”

Shit, shit, shit!

Gun flicks an amused but satisfied glance my way. He likes that I’ve been telling someone all about him. Smug bastard.

When he finally looks down and meets the brown eyes of the little shifter girl, his smile falls and his brows pinch together.

“Do I know you? You look familiar,” he says to her.

She’s beaming. Earlier today, she asked me a million questions about him. Were we dating? Was I going to marry him? Was he a shifter? Did he know I was one?

It drove me crazy and now I wonder if she’ll blurt out what she is despite my drilling in her head that it must remain a secret.

“You’ve probably seen her around town. I’m looking after her. A favor to a friend,” I chatter out, hoping to keep her from telling him the truth.

She pouts, understanding finally dawning on her, and releases him. “I’m Suzie.”

He accepts her outstretched hand and shakes it. “Gunnar Mason. You have the prettiest curly hair.”

Her smile stretches over her teeth and she basks in his praise. It’s in this moment that he glances my way. Questions dance all over the perceptive man’s face. He knows. It doesn’t make sense to him but he knows.

“Suzie, go back to drawing. Gun and I have something to discuss. I’ll put in an order of nachos for you if you’re still hungry.”

Defeated, she nods and breaks away from him.

“I’m sorry. She’s affectionate and doesn’t have any good male role models in her life.” That much is truth.

He lifts a hand and swipes a rogue hair away from my cheek. The action is innocent and simple, yet it ignites a fire within me. Not my core, like Luca only moments earlier, but my heart. That thing doesn’t get much action but whenever Gun is around, it has a mind of its own.

“You should bring her by for dinner tomorrow. I bet she’d love playing with Cutie Pie. I’m off work and I could fix something better than hotdogs.”

Tomorrow, the night before a full moon, seems like a terrible idea.

My body pulsates and begs to say yes.

“No,” I groan, my eyes jerking away, “I have to work.”

His warm hand envelops mine and I jolt back to life. “Frankie,” he says softly. “Just ask off. I want to see you again.”

With the way he says his sweet words, I feel compelled to please him.

What is wrong with me?

Where are my powers of intimidation when Gun is around?

He disarms me and does funny things to that organ in my chest.

“I could work,” a peppy voice chirps from behind the bar. “I could use the hours, Frankie. Besides, you work like every day. Have dinner with the hot guy.”

Gun’s eyes brighten and he flashes me the sexiest crooked grin. My knees weaken and for a moment, I wonder if I’ll collapse.

Gun will catch you.

The thought alarms me and I shudder, attempting to rid myself of how easily it is to get swept up in this man.

“Casey,” I groan and snap my head over to the other bartender who works weeknights. Her blonde hair is pulled into a sleek ponytail and her blue eyes are wide with innocence. She’s a sweetheart with the world at her fingertips but for some reason she’s happy as a lark working at this dumpy bar with me.

“She’d love to take you up on your offer, Casey,” Gun interrupts. “I need to ask her a few police questions though. Can you hold down the fort for a minute?”

She, like every other woman who sees Gunnar, nods like a bobble head and grins.

I’ve barely formed the words to argue when he grabs hold of my hand and drags me toward the hallway which leads to the bathrooms and the breakroom.

“Where are we going?” I demand, and attempt to jerk my hand free from his grasp.

He only tightens his grip as he tows me behind him. Once he hauls me into the breakroom and shuts the door behind us, he pushes me up against the wall. His lips are on mine in an instant and the moan that pours from my mouth into his is one of relief and comfort.

Simply put, I like his taste.

His kiss.

His firm, yet gentle touch.

“I’ve been dying to kiss you again since you left my place this afternoon,” he murmurs, his tongue teasing over mine.

My fingers grip his damp shirt and I pull him closer to me. “This is wrong.”

He shakes his head and devours me some more. My body is weak as his strong arms hold me to him.

“So right, Frankie. I promise.”

For a short while, I lose myself to his decadent mouth. I claw at him, nip at him, and suck on his tongue until I’m about to self-combust.

“I need air,” I hiss out.

His lips tear from mine as he regards me with a lust-filled gaze that only serves to drive me wilder.

“I want you, beautiful. All of you.” He growls out the words and they vibrate their way to my core.

I turn my head and stare out the window. It’s pouring rain so I can’t see the almost full moon that’s wreaking havoc on my hormones.

“I can’t think straight when you’re around,” I complain.

Hot lips find my neck and my eyes flutter shut. He’s killing me. A slow, beautiful death. But a death nonetheless.

“Don’t think, just react.”

His words are whispered on my sensitive neck and I grow dizzy with the desire for him to fuck me.

Get a hold of yourself, Frankie.

I clutch onto the last remaining shred of self-control that’s spinning wildly within and almost find a way to tell him to stop. But then his hands slide away from my hips and my vision goes black with lust. A large hand slips around to my ass and grips it with a punishing force through my jeans while the other hand slips up my belly. When it finds my breast through my clothes, I whimper. His large thumb slides over my hardened nipple and I lose it.

“Fuck me, Gun. Please.”

He chuckles and the mere vibrations nearly cause me to orgasm. “Baby, I’m going to be inside of you soon enough. And when I finally do get the chance, it won’t be in some bar breakroom where we’ll have to rush.”

His hand slips back down my belly and between my legs through my jeans.

“No, it’ll be in my bed where I can taste and worship you for hours through the night. One time won’t be enough, baby. I’ll want it over and over again like a fucking drug.”

I moan when he presses his middle finger against the seam of my jeans into my throbbing clit. The pressure he applies is the perfect amount and curls of pleasure twist through me in a painfully delicious way.

“Don’t stop,” I whimper.

His lips are back on mine, his finger never quitting. I grip onto his shirt for dear life as he assaults my sex with his finger and my mouth with his tongue. Soon, my panties drip with my arousal and a long overdue orgasm ripples through me.

As my release splinters through me, blinding white light explodes in my vision. Warm tentacles of my very being stretch out from deep within and thread themselves around the soul before me.

Pictures of a future flip through my head like pages of a book.

Marriage. Babies. Puppies.

Love.

My little heart which only beats part of the time grows exponentially and throbs uncontrollably for another.

The high is almost too much.

I’m weak.

And strong arms hold me close.

His heart and mine.

Shit, shit, shit!

I think I just imprinted on Gunnar Mason.

Gunnar

I stare down in awe at the woman before me. Her body still shudders with the aftershocks of the orgasm I gave her. She’s the hottest damn woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing but that’s not what draws me to her. I like that she’s an enigma. Layers and layers of stories that I can’t wait to peel back. I’m eager to dive inside and discover her true self. The vulnerable woman who hides beneath.

And then I want to protect her and take care of her.

“Oh my God,” she hisses under her breath, as if the orgasm I just gave her was painful instead of pleasurable.

Sliding my palm to her throat, I tilt her chin up with my thumb. Her mocha-colored eyes find mine. What swims behind them baffles me.

Guilt. Anger. Sadness.

“What?” I question, my brows furrowed in concern, “Did I hurt you? I swear I thought you were enjoying it.”

Her lip quivers for a second but she bites down and stops it. “No, uh, it’s nothing. I need to get back to work.”

She attempts to leave my grasp but I hug her to me and kiss the top of her head. Her sweet shampoo infiltrates my senses and I inhale it deeper into my lungs.

“I want to give you more of those,” I murmur into her hair, my fingers drawing circles on her back. “So many more.”

Her sigh is one of resignation and I hate the sound of it. “Gun, I don’t know—”

Gripping her hair, I tilt her head back so I can see her face. “Don’t say it, Frankie. I can tell you’re panicking. I get it. You don’t date much. I’m not asking for your hand in marriage. I just want to wine, dine, and sixty-nine you.”

She giggles and wriggles out of my grasp. “Well, when you put it that way… ”

I seize her waist with my hands and haul her back to me. My lips find hers and I kiss her with an undeniable hunger. Whatever reservations she had fly out the fucking window as she practically climbs me like a pole.

My earlier thoughts of taking her in a bed slowly dissipate as I consider taking her against this very wall instead.

The door blasts open though, and we both jump away from each other like a couple of guilty teenagers.

“Luca,” Frankie squeaks out.

His hungry gaze passes over her once before he eyeballs me. Rage ripples from him and his massive shoulders quake with fury. They have history together — that much is fact. I can see it in his eyes. The jealousy of her with another man. The regret of not holding onto her himself. And finally, the anger at me.

He stalks toward me, hands fisted, as if he might kick my ass. Luca may be a big motherfucker, but he’s not kicking my ass. I’m the one with a fucking gun around here.

Squaring my shoulders, I take a step toward him. I’m not letting this idiot scare me away. Frankie belongs with me, not some horny biker.

“She’s mine,” he growls as he approaches, stopping just inches from my chest.

“Luca, stop.” She’s pissed at him which only further causes my hackles to rise. I want to protect her from him.

“Frankie’s a big girl,” I snap, “She doesn’t belong to anyone.”

He bares his teeth at me like a goddamned dog and I smirk at him. Apparently in his stupid motorcycle gang, this is how he intimidates people.

Well, he’s not intimidating me.

“Luca… ” Frankie warns and wiggles her way between us, her back to my chest and her palms on his. “You need to go home.”