Wicked Cravings tpp-2 Read online

  Seriously, though, who could blame her for wanting Dante as much as she did?

  With his wide shoulders, broad chest, and solid arms, he had a build that screamed

  “powerful,” “lethal,” “dangerous.” She had grown up around well-built males, had seen plenty of muscular bodies, but Dante was in a league of his own. His compelling, assertive personality made him seem as though he took up even more room than he actually did. He would have seemed unapproachable if it wasn’t for his heart-stopping, crooked grin.

  Given how gorgeous females tended to flock around him, Jaime wasn’t exactly surprised by his aloofness. He wasn’t in a position where he had to settle for plain Janes like herself. Then there were the differences in their personalities. He was a stickler for rules, whereas Jaime saw them as suggestions. He had a strict moral code, whereas she had her own sense of right and wrong that didn’t always cohere with his—like something counted as cheating only if she was caught, and that vengeance was therapeutic. Dante was very much a planner, wanting to be prepared for every scenario so that he could be in total control. Jaime? She preferred to make things up as she went along, and she liked to take risks.

  Unfortunately, neither her wolf nor her body saw these differences as important. Both reacted to him with an unhealthy amount of excitement that never failed to needle Jaime. Even when he was a kid—a small, scrawny, scowling, defensive little boy—he had fascinated her. He’d been regarded as “the runt” by all of his older brothers, which meant they had made his life miserable. Kind of ironic that he was now the biggest of all of his brothers, even bigger than Josh, who was an Alpha. Ha.

  Even though they had been total bastards to him, he seemed to have this inner strength that meant no matter what they did or how much they did it, there were certain parts of him that they had never been able to touch or scar. Growing up, she’d watched in total admiration as Dante had worked to make himself physically strong and fit until he was someone who was confident, capable, and one hundred percent comfortable in his own skin.

  All these years later, there was still something about him that enticed both her and her wolf.

  Maybe it was his piercing brindle-brown eyes or his cocky grin or the way he radiated confidence.

  Or maybe it was because he was amazingly and admirably always in total control of himself and of his wolf. She got the feeling that control was important to him on some level, though she couldn’t figure why. In actuality, it was just as important to her. Not that Dante was even slightly aware of that.

  The only person who knew of her problems was her brother, and that was the way she liked it.

  Enticing though he was, there would be no more pining over Dante. No more wondering if his short, walnut-brown hair was as soft as she imagined. No more wondering if those big hands of his were as talented as she suspected. And no more wondering if he was as big in the downstairs department as he was everywhere else. But how could she not wonder about that? Come on, she was only human. Well, kind of.

  Since the crush wasn’t only physical, it wasn’t going to be possible to make her craving for him simply disappear by force of will. Unfortunately. As Shaya had pointed out, though, Jaime could ensure that she hid it from him. She could fake indifference and lead him to believe she was over the craving, salvaging some self-respect. She could paste a smile on her face and appear to be the happiest she had ever been.

  That was exactly what Jaime intended to do. She couldn’t allow herself to be reduced to a blubbering idiot by some guy. That was all he was—just a guy. And guys, as all women knew, must not be granted power over women and be able to rob them of their self-respect. That would create a total imbalance in the universe and could not be allowed.

  So, determined to keep up her act, Jaime took some toast from the table and continued to pay no attention to he-who-must-not-be-thought-about. She had much more important things to worry about anyway. Like the reason self-control was essential to her.

  Given that, maybe it was a good thing that Dante wasn’t interested in her. Although he was so easygoing that he could have been mistaken for nonchalant, he was, in fact, constantly alert and observant, absorbing every detail like a sponge. If he even slightly suspected that she was hiding something, he would harass her until he had answers.

  “Sleep well?” Gabe, who was sitting opposite her, shoveled some watermelon in his mouth.

  It sounded like such an innocent, casual question, but it went deeper than the others could imagine. “Fine, thanks.” Her smile seemed to satisfy her brother, as he returned his attention to his breakfast.

  Shaya nudged her. “Are you doing anything this afternoon?”

  “Nope, why?”

  “Grace, Lydia, and I are planning to go shopping. We’ve decided to throw Taryn a surprise baby shower on Friday, so we need to get some stuff. Wanna come?”

  “Sure.” Jaime liked their Alpha female. She had a wit that almost anyone would love, and Jaime admired her strength. The female had actually overcome her latency so that her wolf was no longer trapped within her—which had been unheard of until now.

  In fact, Jaime liked every member of the pack…except for Trey’s maladjusted grandmother, Greta, who was especially hostile to the unmated females. In her crazy little mind, if a female was unmated, she was intent on ensnaring one of “her boys”—those being Trey and the enforcers. And no female was good enough for Greta’s boys, hence why she was so hateful toward Taryn. With any luck, Jaime would be done with her breakfast before the old woman appeared.

  As a ginger cat abruptly sprang onto her lap, Jaime smiled. He rubbed his head against her chest, hinting for a stroke. As usual, she happily obliged.

  “I’ve never heard a cat purr that loud. Hey there, Hunk,” Shaya cooed, giving his head a gentle scratch.

  “What possessed you to call that ugly freaking thing Hunk?” Dominic grimaced. “I mean, he’s pudgy and shaggy and full of scars.”

  “Hey!” Jaime dug her elbow into Dominic’s ribs. “He’s my chunky Hunk. Aren’t you, baby?

  Ivy, one of the girls I work with at the dog sanctuary, found him about three years ago when he was practically on death’s door. Even though he was a cat, she brought him to the sanctuary to heal.

  Fortunately, he healed quickly and could be rehomed. He decided, however, that he was coming home with me. Maybe it was because I took care of him while he was in that place, I don’t know.” Dominic’s smile was as flirtatious as always. “I’d have gone home with you, too. Would you have kept me?”

  She rolled her eyes and turned back to Shaya while feeding Hunk slices of meat and tuna. “So where and when do you want to meet up?”

  “I was thinking two p.m. at the mall. That good for you?”

  “Great. I’ve never been to a baby shower before.”

  “Me neither,” said Shaya, sounding excited, “but Lydia’s great with decorations, so she’ll know what to buy. Grace wants to stock up on cakes and other goodies. I’m in charge of picking the gifts and organizing the games, but I’ll need help, so that’s where you come in.” She leaned in closer and said quietly, “I totally approve of the new look, by the way. You should always flaunt what you have.”

  “I’m not flaunting. I’m just making the point that because I don’t dress slutty and leave nothing to the imagination doesn’t mean I have a beer belly or something.”

  “You should have seen his face when you walked in. I was half expecting him to drool.”

  “It’s just the breasts. My girls get everyone’s attention.”

  “What’s with all the whispering?” Dominic asked Jaime.

  “Can’t tell you or I’d have to kill you.”

  He gave her a mock scowl, then peered down and frowned. “Are those space pants you’re wearing?”

  “Huh?”

  “Because your ass is out of this world.”

  Shaya and Gabe groaned, but Jaime laughed. She liked the blond pervert who constantly dished out cheesy lines and was too
good looking for his own good. Considering he could bag a woman with just his smile, she had no idea why he even bothered with his lines. It was almost as if he wanted to repel them. She might have thought that he was gay if she hadn’t heard from many females how talented he was in the bedroom.

  “Want to see what I’ve got?” he asked.

  “That depends, does it itch and is it contagious?”

  He scowled again. “I’ll have you know that I’m not the slut you think I am.” Ignoring her snort, he tugged up his T-shirt, revealing an amazing set of abs and a gorgeous tattoo of a red Chinese dragon with its mouth open wide, just above his heart. The rest of the dragon’s body disappeared under the sleeve, and she guessed it was curled around the upper part of his bicep.

  “That looks amazing.”

  “It’s not done yet. I have to go for another sitting soon.”

  “I love it. And it was a great excuse to get a look at that chest and those pecs.” His caramel-tanned skin was totally lickable.

  “You don’t need an excuse, baby. Any time you want to see any part of this body, you only have to ask. Hey, did you hear about Dante’s little predicament?” Once Dominic had finished regaling her with his tale, Jaime gasped. “That bitch.” For a split second she forgot herself and was about to offer to personally deal with the dominant female.

  A submissive wolf wouldn’t do that, a voice in her head reminded her.

  Shaya nodded. “Yeah, well, payback’s a bitch, too. She’ll get what’s coming to her— hopefully not as a result of our pregnant Alpha going crazy on her, though.” Having finished her toast, Jaime gently placed Hunk on the floor and rose from her seat. “I have to get to work. I’ll see you all later.” She was already late, which unfortunately seemed to be a personality trait of hers.

  As she passed Dante, she couldn’t help but notice he was scowling at her. What the hell was his problem? It seemed that no matter what she said or did, he intended to be an ass. Men. She had long ago concluded that it was impossible to find guys who were considerate and sensitive as well as hot. Well, impossible to find some that didn’t already have boyfriends of their own anyway.

  Not willing to allow Dante to take up any more of her thoughts, she shrugged off the matter.

  Reaching Grace, who was cursing “shit, shit, shit” at the frying pan—the woman tended to say “shit” a lot—Jaime gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks for breakfast. I’ll see you later.” As she walked through the network of tunnels to retrieve her backpack from her room, she again found herself marveling at how smooth the light sandstone walls were. The pack lived in caves that had been hollowed out and made into one giant home. Although the ancient dwellings had been modernized over the years, she’d still imagined that it would have a Stone Age appearance. She certainly hadn’t expected the contemporary look, the luxury carpeting, or the solid oak and pine modern furniture. Maybe she should have, though, considering that Lydia—who was a graphic designer—liked anything even remotely creative and she had insisted on decorating the interior.

  Taryn liked to call it “Bedrock,” which was why she often called Trey “Flintstone.” Once she had her backpack, Jaime headed outside, descended the smooth stairways that were carved into the cliff face, and entered the concealed parking lot. Finally in her Chevy, she left pack territory—waving to baby-faced Cam, Lydia’s mate, who was guarding the security gate—and drove to the dog sanctuary where she’d worked since she was sixteen.

  All the dogs there had been rescued from abusive environments and were so traumatized they couldn’t be rehomed. In a lot of cases, dogs like these would be put down, particularly if they were too wild. This was one of the reasons Jaime worked there most mornings each week—she could relate to them in a way that she could never do with a shifter.

  Twenty minutes later she arrived at the sanctuary. After swapping her jeans and T-shirt for navy coveralls in one of the changing rooms, she left her backpack in her locker and made her way over to the section of the sanctuary where she worked. There was a lot involved in the running and upkeep of the sanctuary, but Jaime’s role was to take care of twenty dogs—all of whom she had come to adore.

  Squatting beside one of the outdoor dog cages and cooing over a group of German shepherd puppies were two of her coworkers and close friends. They were the only people other than her brother who knew of her secret.

  “Have you ever seen anything so gorgeous?” exclaimed Riley, a white-lioness shifter, as she noticed Jaime approaching.

  Yeah, Dante. Jaime quickly expelled that thought from her mind, thankful she hadn’t said it aloud.

  “You’re late again,” chastised Ivy, but the witch’s tone was playful. “Thank you for finally joining us.”

  “Yeah, well, promptness is a quality of the boring.”

  In response to a series of beeps, Riley dug her cell from her pocket. Instantly her heart-shaped face reddened, making her white-blonde hair look even lighter.

  “A text from Aidan?” Ivy asked cautiously.

  “Yes, it was the wild ox himself,” confirmed Riley bitterly.

  “So you’re not letting him talk you into giving him another chance.” Ivy’s comment wasn’t so much a question as a suggestion.

  “Hell no.”

  “Good. Want me to do a little magick and make him impotent?” Ivy’s expression was hopeful.

  “I was thinking more along the lines of giving him a sexually transmitted disease.”

  “That sounds good.”

  Riley nudged Ivy, smiling. “Did you tell Jaime what you did to your cheating ex?”

  “What?” Jaime knew it would be good. Ivy was a great person, but she had a ruthless streak when it came to guys. It was no surprise really. Ivy was a unique type of witch—she was a Siren, but not the mythical version who sat on rocks and made sailors drown. Sirens like Ivy used their powerful singing voices to entrance and bewitch. Also, they oozed sex and sensuality, drawing males to them.

  Ivy resented that guys were so mesmerized by her surface beauty that they didn’t look any further. It wasn’t often that she chanced having a relationship. If the guy repaid her by crossing her…it was never good.

  Ivy’s expression was all innocence. “I kind of put him into a deep sleep while I shaved him from head to toe, paying special attention to his back, sack, and crack.” Typical Ivy, Jaime thought. “What did he do when he woke up?”

  “He was pretty angry and did a lot of yelling, but it was hard to take him seriously when he looked like a mannequin. It was a shame, really. He was a cougar shifter and, well, you know that rumor that male feline shifters are extremely good at oral sex because of the slight roughness of their tongues? Those rumors have substance.”

  “I know that from experience, too.” Riley shook her head, looking pained. “We need to stop all this talk about guys and sex, it’s making me horny.”

  “Me too.” Ivy flicked her raven-black hair over her shoulder, and Jaime again found herself wishing her own hair was that glossy. Jaime had been told enough times that her hair was sleek and radiant, but Ivy’s was something else altogether—it seemed to shimmer and reflect. Depending on how the light hit it, her hair could even appear violet. “It really is time that we did something about our hungry libidos.”

  Jaime nodded. “Definitely, especially since I’ve given up on Dante.” Ivy and Riley both gasped. Although neither knew him, they’d heard Jaime talk about him often enough.

  “You’re admitting defeat?” Ivy shook her head incredulously. “In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you give up on anything.”

  “There’s giving up, and there’s salvaging self-respect.” She told them about the conversation she’d overheard between him and Trick.

  “What an ass,” said Ivy.

  “Then we definitely need a night out,” declared Riley, “particularly since I’ve practically abused BOB.”

  “BOB?” prodded Ivy.

  “Battery-Operated Boyfriend. Don’t you have o
ne?”

  “Sure. I call mine Jack Hammer. What about you, Jaime?”

  “I call mine my Funny Bone.”

  Ivy burst out laughing. “I like that one. Anyway, poor Jack Hammer needs a break. How about we go to Enigma this weekend?”

  Enigma was a local club that was exclusive to preternaturals. Humans were not admitted, because in this particular club, sexual contact wasn’t prohibited. Preternatural beings were casual—although not flippant—about sex. In their culture, two people enjoying intimacy was a beautiful, natural, very basic thing and answered their primal need for touch—social and sexual. There was always an exchange of respect and pleasure. Humans didn’t always understand shifter culture and sometimes became uncomfortable or offended when a shifter attempted to touch them intimately. It had caused a lot of problems in the past, so most shifter clubs didn’t allow humans to enter.

  “I say Operation Calm Libido should commence Saturday night.” Riley turned to Jaime. “What do you think?”

  “Saturday night at Enigma it is,” drawled Jaime. “Until then, we wear out our vibrators and dream about rough tongues.”

  Ivy smiled. “Ooh, good plan.”

  With that agreed on, Jaime, Ivy, and Riley went inside the building to get to work. There were cages on both sides of a long aisle. The din was horrendous: dogs howling, barking, growling, and whining. Jaime couldn’t help feeling sorry for the animals stuck there, confused and frightened. All workers were asked to wear ear protectors, which didn’t drown out the noise or hinder conversations with coworkers, but made it so that the din didn’t cause harm to their eardrums.

  As was routine, Jaime spent the next few hours taking her dogs one-by-one from their cages to place them in the pen outside while she took out all the old, dirty newspaper from their cages, and rinsed and cleaned the floor. She then placed fresh newspaper, food, and water into the cages before bringing the dogs back inside.

  She had a soft spot for all of them, but one in particular plucked at her heartstrings: Ben, a small, thin mongrel with sandy fur, who, as always, was curled up in the corner of his cage, shaking and shivering. He was, as her brother would have described his state, a nervous wreck. Once she was done cleaning all the cages, she sat on the fresh bedding beside the dog and stroked him lightly, talking softly about…well…nothing really. Within minutes he clambered onto her lap, curling up again, while she continued running her hand through his coarse fur.