Another helicopter flew in like a kamikaze on speed. It flew low over the vehicles before tilting and turning to meet the other. Amanda couldn’t see a damn thing, no matter where she looked, she could only hear it.
The sound of machine-gun fire and overhead blasts filled the night before an explosion lit the night sky and Kiowa let out a war whoop that would have done an Apache on a late night western proud.
“That boy doesn’t have the sense God gave suicide candidates,” Simon snarled as the helicopter dipped low and waved side to side. “Do you know the f**king press this is going to get? Callan’s going to kick all our damned asses.”
Amanda didn’t have the change to think or ask questions on any of it as Kiowa swung back into the Jeep, jerked her close and stole her lips in a kiss that stole her mind.
“Fuck!” Simon’s voice was the last thing she heard.
Kiowa thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, the swollen extension curling around hers as she closed her lips on it helplessly. Honey and spice. Male heat and demand. It poured into her as her hands gripped his head, her fingers tangling into his hair as he groaned into her kiss. Adrenaline, lust and fear combined to slam her senses into overdrive and send her soaring. There was no fear, no concerns when she was feeding from the passion of his kiss. Lips and tongues twisted together, fractured moans echoing within the insulated veil that lust weaved around them. Nothing else existed. Time stopped moving. There was only Kiowa.
Chapter Eleven
Kiowa was enraged, horny, and in the mood to kill. Unfortunately the f**king bastards pissing him off didn’t have the balls to face him. That left only friendlies to pound on. You couldn’t kill a friendly, but you could damned sure knock the hell out of the one that got you in this mess to begin with, he thought, as the
Jeep slammed to a stop inside the Feline Breed compound right beside Dash Sinclair. He slammed the door open, stepped from the vehicle and planted his fist in the other man’s face first thing. Fury surged through his body as he ignored the gathering Feline Breeds. Let them try to interfere, he thought as he growled warningly at the lot of them, flashing the curved canines at the side of his mouth. By God, he would lay them out too.
Dash landed on his back, shook his head then speared Kiowa with a long, cold look.
“That one was free,” he said quietly as he came to his feet. “Don’t make the mistake of taking another.”
Kiowa lifted his lip in a feral snarl before he hit him again.
“Goddamn it, Kiowa!” Dash remained on his feet, just barely.
“You dirty f**king bastard,” Kiowa growled furiously. “Remind to never, never, take another job you throw my way. I don’t need your f**king messes; I make enough of my own. I was doing real damned fine where I was at. What made you even think I needed this bullshit?”
His c**k was raging. The smell of Amanda’s heat locked in his brain and he couldn’t escape it.
“Yeah, you were real content,” Dash snorted, watching him warily as the Breeds milled around them.
“Fun was it, Kiowa, playing bouncer in a scum pit?”
Kiowa snarled again as Callan stepped closer, almost close enough to scent Amanda’s pulsing arousal, to smell that intriguing soft scent of honey and spice.
The other man backed up, an amused grin tilting his lips as amber eyes regarded him with no hint of wariness. Fucking cats, he thought furiously.
“Look, Kiowa, we have a cabin ready for you and all the explanations you need.” Dash was obviously fighting his amusement despite his sore face. “Get back in the jeep and we’ll drive up there and talk all you want.”
“Do you think I’m in the mood to f**king talk?” Kiowa snarled. “Point out the goddamned cabin then get the f**k out of my way.”
The erection in his pants was killing him, and Amanda’s low moan from the back of the Jeep was like a spike of lust slamming into his guts.
Dash’s eyes narrowed again. “Shit. You kissed her again, didn’t you? Dammit, that only makes it worse,”
he muttered. “Kiowa, haven’t you figured it out yet?”
“Point the cabin out, you mangy f**king wolf,” Kiowa growled, the unbidden, guttural sound of his own voice was shocking. “Then get the hell out of my way.”
Dash sighed in frustration. “Up the hill. Second cabin under the tree line.”
Kiowa glanced up the graveled road that headed into the mountain before turning and stalking to the Jeep.
“Get out of my way,” he muttered when Simon didn’t move from his position in front of the door of the driver’s side.
Simon laughed, a low, mocking chuckle as he slid smoothly to the side.
“Have fun, coyote boy.” The smile on his face had Kiowa growling again. Dammit, what the hell was he doing mixed up in this crazy mess? he thought.
A second later, the Jeep spun from its parking place and headed up the short distance to the cabin Dash had pointed out. Blood pounded hard and fast in his veins as Amanda rose behind him, her arms curling around his neck as her lips moved over the pulse throbbing hard and hot at the side of his neck. She licked the pulsing vein slowly, then her sharp little teeth bit down on the tough skin as the Jeep skidded to the side of the road before Kiowa managed to right it, punch the gas and curse.
“You bit me,” she sighed at his ear.
“I’m going to bite you again.” His teeth ached to bite her again. To feel the soft flesh that bordered neck and shoulder beneath the sharp canines as he held her to him, his c**k swelling…knotting her… He groaned at the thought and brought the Jeep to a shuddering stop at the door of the cabin. He didn’t bother with the blanket that wrapped around her when he jerked the back door open. He just grabbed her, pressed her to the side of the Jeep and tore frantically at his jeans. He wasn’t going to make it into the little house. He didn’t have the strength to get any further than the feel of her in his arms. Naked except for the red stockings and stiletto ankle boots, her legs curving around his waist, the naked heat of her pu**y burning the head of his dick. He lifted her, his hands gripping her ass, tugging the soft swell of flesh apart as he poised at the entrance of her cunt.
“Scream for me,” he whispered then. “I want to hear your cries.”
His body tightened as her breath caught, her eyes gleaming in the predawn light as he began to work the head of his c**k into the tight, God so f**king tight, pu**y weeping its siren’s call. Her head fell back against the jeep, long silken strands of hair flowing around her as the first, throttled cry left her throat.