Shadow Shifters: Shifter's Claim Part 9

Priya nodded. "My sisters are older and always had more important things to do. And my brother..." She paused, staring out at the water with the saddest look Bas had ever seen on her face. "He was busy a lot too," she finally finished.

"That sucks," he stated before he could stop himself. It was a knee-jerk reaction and what he'd really been referring to was that it sounded as if her childhood may have been the source of her past pain. That bothered him more than it should have.

She flicked her fingers then and stood, giving him a quick gaze. "Not everyone was lucky enough to be born rich and to grow up to become even richer. We didn't have a lot and what we had was split four ways so that meant no indulgences like lavish summer vacations, enticing swimming pools, or whatever else a very active imagination could dream of. It was a long time ago. I got over it. No big deal," she stated quickly and turned to walk away from him.

Right, or rather wrong. She obviously hadn't gotten over it, not in the least bit. If there was one thing he could sense through his human side, more so than the shifter, it was the remnants of a painful past. Most likely because he still carried his around like old luggage.

"We're going inside," he said, once again abruptly as he'd just decided to change his plans.

He took her hand and was moving before she could reply. When he thought she might have argued, she didn't, simply walked along behind him. For some reason that too, bothered him.

A few minutes at the front desk, a nod from one of the ladies he employed, and then they were on their way down the marbled floor hallway. The attendant stopped in front of a door, painted a warm coral shade with a gold k.n.o.b, which she turned to let them inside.

"You can undress in there and come out with this robe on. Dana will be with you momentarily," the attendant said with a polite smile as she handed a white terry cloth robe to a now-perplexed-looking Priya.

"What?"

"That will be fine, thank you," Bas interrupted after Priya's question. He dismissed the attendant, waited until she'd closed the door behind her, leaving them alone before turning to her. Her stance had changed, her shoulders squared, one eyebrow arched in that way she did when she was about to fire off with a bout of questions. Funny how he'd memorized her actions, her moods, and the slight dimple that appeared at the right corner of her mouth when she smiled.

"Before you argue, look at it as an indulgence that you're way overdue for. You're about to receive a top-notch ma.s.sage from one of the world's most talented ma.s.sage therapists. You can thank me later," he told her while reaching for her shoulders and turning her toward the door to the bathroom.

"I don't want a ma.s.sage," she snapped, tossing a look over her shoulder that should have had the effect of daggers shooting into his skull, but actually felt like a lightning bolt to his groin.

"You're going to love it, Dana is the best," was his cordial reply.

"I'll bet you know how good she is firsthand," she added when he'd opened the door and scooted her inside.

Bas smiled as the scent of jealousy wafted slowly between them. "Dana's a man."

She arched a brow. "Then I'm almost positive you know he's the best."

Had his smile ever faded so fast, Bas wasn't sure, but her words were a pinp.r.i.c.k to his infamous ego. "He's the best because I pay him more than I pay some of the top management staff. Now get undressed."

He closed the door before she could speak again and walked out of the room to answer the cell phone that had been vibrating in his pocket.

She'd never had a ma.s.sage, never thought it was worth spending her money on. Things like rent, gas for the car, and food sort of took precedence.

So it was with a few hesitant steps that Priya emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a robe so soft she wanted to purr as her bare feet were cushioned by equally soft carpet in a warm beige color. The walls in here were painted the same coral as outside with a beige-and-gold-flecked border. Two tables were positioned in the center of the room, covered in white sheets and what she thought might actually be a mattress beneath, they looked so comfortable. Atop the white sheets were peach-colored rose petals. Priya lifted one, rubbing her fingers over the smoothness as she continued to look around.

Directly across from the head of the table about eight feet away were two steps and a tub. Above the tub was a fountain that looked like a sheet of banged aluminum. Water slipped quietly over the tin surface to drip into a narrow drain. When she'd first come into the room, overhead fluorescent lighting had been on. Now, there were candles, short fat ones, tall skinny ones, all white, all emitting a light earthy fragrance throughout the room.

Turning around once more she let her hand rub along the length of one of the tables, looking around and wondering how she came to be here. She shouldn't be in this luxurious place about to experience her first ma.s.sage when she had no idea where her brother was and if he was still alive. With a curse she was about to go into the bathroom and change back into her clothes when the door opened and in walked what could only be described as a Greek G.o.d-if she were the type to believe they actually existed, which she didn't think she was. Until now, of course.

"Hi, I'm Dana," he said. "You can take this table right here and I'll be back to get started."

Swallowing deeply, Priya watched as the over six-foot-tall, olive-complexioned, bald-headed man who seemed to be squeezing all his magnificent body parts into white pants and a white T-shirt, flashed her a gorgeous smile then turned to leave the room before she could reply.

In the next instant Priya pulled that robe off so fast she thought she might have ripped it. Yanking back the rose-petal-covered sheet she didn't even mind that those pretty flowers were now falling silently to the floor as she climbed up onto the table. It took a second of adjustment as she made sure the sheets covered her naked body, then she lay there, like a kid at Christmas, waiting, antic.i.p.ating.

When the door opened again she wanted to turn around and get another look at Mr. Dana, but for once in her life didn't have the guts. Instead she closed her eyes in an effort to calm the rampant beat of her heart, her mind wandering with thoughts of Dana and his highly paid hands.

The sheet moved and was tucked at her waist. Priya bit her bottom lip, wondering if he would ma.s.sage her entire body. Would he want her to turn over so he could touch her b.r.e.a.s.t.s? What about her thighs? She knew there was tension there, especially around her inner thighs. That thought had her frowning because in the same instant she realized that it wasn't Dana that she wanted between her thighs. Inhaling deeply, Priya forced herself to remain still. Seconds later there was a sound, like something opening, a tube or a bottle, hands clasping together, rubbing against each other. She let another breath out slowly, waiting, figuring she could get through this. She had to because there was no way she was going to tell the ever-confident Sebastian Perry that he'd ruined her for another man's touch, even a simple ma.s.sage.

Then strong hands touched her shoulders, softly at first, just the tips of fingers running rhythmically over her shoulders. Instantly, heat flowed from that point down, just like the fountain above the tub. His hands were oiled, she realized as she sighed, when they flattened on her back. His fingers gripping her shoulders, pinching nerves, uncoiling muscles, and soliciting a deep moan from her.

Now her b.r.e.a.s.t.s did tingle, the lips of her v.a.g.i.n.a were throbbing. His hands moved down, fingers fanning over her sides, drumming over her rib cage. She couldn't help it, she sighed again. Then his thumbs were at the base of her spine, rotating, pressing inward until she actually gasped. Her entire body tingled, nerves on end in antic.i.p.ation of his next touch.

"You ready to thank me yet?" he whispered into her ear.

If she hadn't already experienced the rush of heat and complete shift from not-really aroused to OMG-definitely aroused, Priya might have questioned who was actually giving her the ma.s.sage, at least before he spoke. But she knew who it was, knew d.a.m.ned well who was touching her, who was driving her crazy once again with his touch.

"No. This is a breach of contract. I'm supposed to have Dana, the highest paid ma.s.sage therapist in the world. Not you," she replied, the complaint not matching her breathless tone.

He had the audacity to chuckle, arrogant jerk. But his hands were a G.o.dsend, as he pushed past the towel to cup her b.u.t.tocks, kneading each mound with tender efficiency. She wanted to rear back, to lift her hips from the table, or get up on her knees and let him inside. Priya closed her eyes then, thinking of how long it had been and how it seemed like forever since she'd really been s.e.xually satisfied. Too d.a.m.n long was apparent.

She heard the opening and closing of a tube once more, sighed as she felt the splash of warm oil slapping directly against her skin this time. His hands slid sinuously over her b.u.t.tocks once more and Priya sucked in a breath. Heated spikes soared through her body, landing with sharp intensity at her c.l.i.t and she silently wished for her bullet so she could find some relief.

As if he'd heard her prayer Bas's hands slid lower down her crease, dipping inside, coming out, then going inside once more. It was a tease, her teeth gritted in response, a vicious and painful tease.

"I know how to make you thank me," he said, his voice going deep, his fingers following to touch the tight ring of her a.n.u.s.

"I do too. You can go get Dana and then get lost. Thank you very much." Sarcasm came naturally even as erotic tingles performed a little dance at the base of her spine. He wasn't going to touch her there, he couldn't.

And yet he did. The pad of one finger pressing with gentle force until it breached the entrance and Priya moaned.

"Uh uh, that's not what I'm going to do," he replied just before pushing the sheet down a little farther.

With pleasure so intense she had to catch her breath, Priya bucked up off the table at the touch.

"Relax. If you don't like what I do to you, I'll run right out and get Dana. I promise."

"Like I'm going to believe that," she said on a soft moan and then tensed as that finger went deeper. It was a wicked sort of pleasure, a no-please-don't and yes-don't-stop type of enjoyment that she never imagined she'd experience.

He startled her when he stilled, his voice serious and a bit forceful. "You can trust me, Priya. If I say I'm going to do something, I'll do it."

Why those words meant anything to her Priya had no idea, but they did and she murmured, "I know," before pressing back against his hand in search of the mysterious delight.

"Open for me," he told her after a few minutes. "Let me all the way in."

Oh, G.o.d, she was not doing this. She never imagined in her wildest dreams doing something such as this. And yet, her legs parted, her muscles relaxing as she waited, antic.i.p.ated, hungered.

When his other hand slipped from her cheek, which he'd been holding securely, she sighed. His talented fingers slipped right past the first hand to plunge deep into her core and she gasped, her own fingers clenching in the pillow beneath her. Bas worked both fingers inside different entrances, simultaneously. Everything around her became a blur as she floated through the haze created by Bas's erotic ma.s.sage.

"Did you know that when you become s.e.xually excited your pupils dilate?" he asked, pulling out of her center with one finger and pressing deeper into her a.n.u.s, with another. "Not a lot so that you look like you're frightened or possibly injured. But enough so that I know there's a change in you. Your breathing changes, coming in shorter hitches."

Kind of like she was doing now. Priya bit her bottom lip so hard she thought she might indeed draw blood.

"I can also smell your arousal. As the wetness coats your lips a smell so f.u.c.king sweet fills my head and I can hardly concentrate." Two oiled fingers sank deep into her center this time, while one eased slowly from her a.n.u.s. "That's never happened to me before, Priya. I'm always in control of my mind, my body, everything."

His words floated somewhere around her as Priya fought to hold onto her sanity while his fingers dismantled everything else about her. She needed him inside her at this moment, needed all of him, whether it be his fingers or his d.i.c.k, she simply needed more than she ever had in her life. Moving, she rubbed her taut nipples against the sheets, resisting the urge to slip her hand between her legs to work her c.l.i.t.

"I was always in control, until you showed up," he continued, as he dipped the fingers from both hands inside of her once more, until it felt as if they were both rubbing against each other deep inside of her.

Her thighs shook as his name slipped from her lips, her eyes closing, opening, her body fighting for release.

Her hips bucked involuntarily and he pulled his fingers out halfway until they created a rhythm. A rhythm that was making breathing harder, talking almost impossible, and hating Sebastian Perry outrageously contradictory.

"Will you lose control with me? Will you let go and let me please you? d.a.m.n, I want to please you, Priya. I want to please every inch of you, pretty girl."

He'd moved so that his lips were once again at her ear, his fingers deep inside of her. His tongue snaked out, licking her lobe once, then twice, until she gasped.

"Will you please just hurry?" was her response. "G.o.ddammit, just hurry!"

He pumped her faster, licked her in long, hot strokes as he did and Priya thought she was going to explode. Instead she pressed her knees against the table, coming up slightly to increase the pressure of his strokes. She was almost there, her arms even shook now, her breath coming in deep pants as he worked her thoroughly, his tongue tracing a hot path along her skin, delving deep into her ear. She felt like Bas was completely covering her, as if she were a prized instrument and he was playing the h.e.l.l out of her. She strained against the pain that rippled right along the sweet edges of impending ecstasy as she remembered who he was and why she was here. The thought was so powerful, the realization of how wrong they were and how right this felt, warring inside her like true rivals, she gasped, shaking her head and closing her eyes. Lowering her head to the pillow she waited, it was coming, that fall over the cliff of ecstasy was in sight. Just a few more strokes, just another lick of his tongue, another whisper in her ear and ...

"What did you just say?"

"Where? I'll be right there."

What the h.e.l.l? Priya turned back, wondering at Bas's words, at the complete stilling of both his hands. He was talking to someone and it clearly was not her. His brow wrinkled, his lips stretching into a straight line as he listened, to what or who Priya had no idea. In the next instant he was pulling his hands away from her, cursing as he turned to grab a towel from the other table.

"Get dressed and go straight to my room," he told her.

By now she was sitting up on the table, staring at him in disbelief. "What the h.e.l.l are you talking about? And where are you going?" she asked, watching in complete incredulity as he moved toward the door.

"Do what I said, Priya. Go to my room and stay there until I come get you."

He was gone then and Priya cursed like she'd only ever heard a drunken Levi Drake do before.

Chapter 14.

The control room was on the level just above the bunkers, encased in cinder blocks and bulletproof steel doors on the front and around the corner on the side. Not only was a code required to obtain entrance, but there was a specially made key to fit each door. The key had been made by a shadow whose day job was as a locksmith-kudos to the shifter database that X created and routinely updated. The only persons with keys to this room were Bas, Jacques, and Syfon, the leader of the blue team.

When Bas let himself in, Jacques was already there, seated in one of the tall control chairs, staring at the many closed-circuit monitors that climbed the wall in front of him. The monitors covered every hallway in the resort and the elevators on a regular basis. There were cameras everywhere, so with a few keystrokes the view could be switched to outside a specific suite in the spa or the storage room in the kitchen. There was nothing at Perryville that Bas could not see at any moment he desired to do so. Right now, Jacques was scanning the complete perimeter, which consisted of a three-mile radius immediately surrounding the resort, as well as the extended acreage under his ownership, going deep into the forested end of the canyon. While the building itself was kitted with an electric alarm system, there was also an underground trigger system in place for the outdoor areas. Atop the roof of the main building were sniper points for five of their best trained to take a first look.

"Nothing," Jacques replied to Bas's yet unasked question.

"Where's the team?" Bas continued, standing beside the seat he usually took for himself when he was there. He couldn't sit, could barely focus as two powerful ent.i.ties battled for his attention-the rogues vs. Priya.

"Five up high, four in the front, six in the back," Jacques began, giving Bas the rundown. "Two on the humans we caught last night because I'm thinking that's who they're coming for."

Bas nodded in agreement. "We took some of their drugs, their guns, and their mules."

"And let's not forget their blood," Jacques added dryly. "I guess now they want it back."

"Now that's certainly not going to happen," Bas added with a wry chuckle. "Let's try to take them alive. I have a feeling this is circling back to the explosion in Rome's zone."

For the first time since he'd come into the room, Jacques looked away from the monitors to stare directly at Bas. "What makes you think that?"

"A man by the name of Ralph Kensington's body was found in that building. One of Nick's earlier reports was that Kensington was in cahoots with Robert Slakeman who owned that building and Slakeman Enterprises. Did you get a look at the serial number on one of those guns we retrieved from the tunnel?"

Jacques shook his head. "Not really, no. I was more concerned with how many there were in comparison to the small amount of drugs that had been left behind and those other two crates that I still can't explain."

Which was also a question that needed an answer, sooner rather than later. But more urgent was that serial number. Bas had seen that combination of numbers before.

"The serial number was UK79865 and right behind that were the initials, RSE," Bas told him. He'd always had an eidetic memory, which totally conflicted with his laid-back, gigolo reputation. It wasn't something he broadcasted along with other details of his life, but it came in handy, especially at times like this.

"Robert Slakeman Enterprises," Jacques said slowly. "Arrogant b.a.s.t.a.r.d wants everyone to know his handiwork."

"I'm not surprised. The UK5-the weapon's nickname as it had been listed in those doc.u.ments we found when we raided that truck Hernandez was traveling in-is Slakeman's most coveted creation. The government didn't want it because of its instability and Slakeman's sky-high price," Bas added with a frown. "So Rome's theory of Slakeman and Kensington selling firearms to the rogues was dead-on, they're not only expanding their army of dealers, they're arming them pretty d.a.m.n sophisticatedly as well."

"And the expansion starts here," Jacques muttered.

"No the h.e.l.l it doesn't," Bas said solemnly. "The minute you get a trace on them I want to know. This is one round of questioning I plan to handle myself." Whoever had the guts to come at Bas head-on was no mule.

Jacques was nodding, moving his body so that the chair swiveled a bit from side to side. "Where is the reporter?" he asked.

That question threw Bas for a moment since he'd been so focused on the guns, drugs, and b.a.s.t.a.r.d rogues and exacting a modic.u.m of revenge. "She's in my room where she's going to stay, especially now that we may have company."

"You know I don't normally question you or what you do in your personal life," Jacques began, letting his words drift slowly.

Bas looked at him long and hard this time, noticed the recession of his hairline just before the dreadlocks he kept bound at the base of his neck with a black band, snaked backward. He noted the concern in the corners of his eyes and the set of his shoulders, which translated to the fact the man was fully prepared to say whatever it was he wouldn't normally say. Bas had to respect the guy for that type of honesty, and if truth be told, boldness. For all that Bas liked to dress well and live lavishly, he was a cold-blooded killer and if anybody knew that, Jacques did.

Still, the man he'd known for years continued to hold Bas's stare as he spoke. "She's bad news, Bas. Keeping her here is not a good idea, especially under these new circ.u.mstances. What if she sees something or hears something? h.e.l.l, she might have seen or heard something last night before you even realized she was there. And as a matter of fact, when exactly did you realize she was there?"

"Stop!" Bas snapped, not loudly, but sternly enough that Jacques's lips clapped shut immediately. "I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Jacques asked. "Because when Rome finds out he's going to send the order to kill her. Does your plan include that?"

He was asking if Bas would kill Priya when Rome ordered it. Bas had asked himself that question more than once since meeting her and still hadn't come up with an answer.

"It's not going to come to that."

"There's no alternate ending here, Bas," Jacques warned.

At that Bas growled, his cat fighting the words as vehemently as the man intended to. "I said I know what I'm doing! I'll handle her and I'll deal with Rome."

"He's the head of the Stateside a.s.sembly. Just how do you plan to deal with him?"

That question was meant to leave a stinging impact on Bas. What it did in actuality was p.i.s.s him off just a little more. "I said I'd deal with it and I will," was his final retort. "What you need to do is find those rogues and let me know the moment we're ready to head out and bring those f.u.c.kers back to the bunker. Are we clear on that?"