“And it did,” I explained. “Which the sculptor did not appreciate and loudly told him so upon his arrival, after having to stop with his crew and a heavy-ass sculpture in the back of the van that they had to remove to change a flat tire. While those two are having it out, more people are starting to arrive, after someone finally got the bright idea to go put signs up at the entrance to the park to point people in the right direction. So, at that point, I’m thinking the worst is over. People are milling around talking; the sculpture, still covered, was being installed on its base, so we snapped a few pictures of the people doing that and the folks in attendance, just to get some ambiance shots and make sure we had the settings right for the lightning.”
I paused there to take a sip of my tea as the Cheshire Cat appeared on the screen in the first of the live-action movies.
“The caterer still hadn’t arrived by the time the statue was installed, so the presenter went ahead and did a mic check to kick off the presentation and dedication of the statue, and that’s when they realized that the power hadn’t been turned on to the pavilion. So now the poor guy with the phones had to try to get someone from the parks department on the line so they could get it turned on, and he was sweating buckets; like, it was gross. It was dripping off his face, he’d fiddled with his tie so much ithad come completely undone, the top button on his shirt was undone, and he just looking frazzled. The presenter has a teeny, tiny little voice that couldn’t be heard across the Pavillon, which wasn’t that goddamn big, and while all of that was going on, the wind had started to pick up, the temperature was dropping, and the cords tethering the cloth tarp to the base of the statue to keep it covered had started to pop loose. We wound up with an impromptu unveiling just as a storm rolled in and literally started pouring all over us.”
“Oh shit, your gear didn’t get damaged, did it?” Briar asked.
“Fortunately not,” I said. “My partner and I were under the roof of the pavilion with almost everyone else at that point. Some people gave up on the event entirely and headed for their cars; others were still trickling in after struggling to find the pavilion after a few of the signs blew away. It was just a shit show. The kicker was when the event coordinator got in our faces threatening to sue us and the magazine if we ran any of the pictures we’d taken or wrote about the event in any way, and I do mean he went off on us. Complete fuckin’ meltdown that went on after we’d packed up our gear and headed for the van, because holy fuck, he was completely out of control. I really thought he was going to take a swing at one of us.”
“Damn, seriously?” Briar asked, a slight snarl in his voice.
“I shit you not, man, it was damned intense, and it wasn’t the first time we had someone get in our faces or threaten us if we ran certain photos. It gets to be a bit much.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
“You’re lucky. I expect that most people who pop into a cookie shop are the happy sort.”
“Yeah, they are; we’ve got some awesome customers,” Maverick admitted. “Anyone want some more tea?”
“As long as you promise not to make me choke on it,” I remarked as I passed him my cup.
“Not my fault you need to work on that gag reflex, man,” he said, winking and walking away, once again claiming victory in this verbal snarking match of ours.
Chapter 6
Maverick
Groaning, I opened my eyes to the feel of being shaken and spotted Briar grinning down at me. Shit. I’d fallen asleep during the last Alice in Wonderland movie. The chair, the ambiance, and the company had just been so damned cozy that I’d curled up beneath the blanket and completely zonked out.
“Welcome back to wonderland,” Briar murmured, carding a finger through my hair. “Leo headed into the bathroom to shower and get ready for bed, so it might be a good time for us to strip down and shift so we can work out how to arrange ourselves.”
“Mmm okay,” I muttered, yawning as I sat up, stretched, and cracked my neck in the process. “Chair was comfy though.”
“And you can rediscover the comforts of it tomorrow when we’re having our Pirates of the Caribbean marathon complete with stuffed shrimp and she-crab soup.
I couldn’t help it; I purred as he helped me up out of the chair and slid an arm around me to guide me to the bedroom.What could I say? I was a cat. The thought of seafood of any kind was like being flooded with endorphins, and I melted against him.
“Yeah, my pretty kitty liked that, didn’t you?” He cooed in my ear. “We’ll stuff that tummy full of crab and shrimp later, then sneak off for a quick run in our fur so I can stuff you full of something else.”
Oh, hell yeah!
The deep, rough, rolling growl of his voice coupled with the warmth of his breath against my neck and the way he lightly scraped his teeth against my skin before nipping drew a groan from me as I shivered and turned in his arms so I could kiss him. I ended up with my back pressed against the bedroom door with my arms stretched over my head and pinned to the wood, his iron grip holding me in place as he slid his thigh between us so I could grind on it. It was deliciously wicked to think that Leo could emerge from the ensuite at any moment to catch us going at it, but I absolutely didn’t give a damn. I wanted to feel Briar filling me, my body clearly onboard with that plan, because I could feel myself grow slick. Need coursed through me, the level of it ramping up with each lick, nip, caress, and prick of the claws he’d let out the moment he slid them beneath my t-shirt.
Pinpricks of pleasure with a hint of pain, capable of shredding or delivering the most delicious sensations, the way he was going right now. He rutted against my hip as I rode his thigh, my moans devoured by his kisses as we rushed to frantically get off while we could still hear the water running in the shower. When my orgasm hit, I was grateful for the door behind me because even my inner cat yawled as the world shattered. Briar’s body slumped against mine was the only thing holding me in place, or maybe it was the door doing all the work at this point because neither of us seemed capable of movement. We needed our clothes off before we could shift, and right now,I doubted either of us could manage to remove a sock, let alone the sleep pants and t-shirts we had on.
At least the water was still going.
And then it turned off.
Shit.
Fuck.
Briar’s fingers scrabbled for the collar of my t-shirt, catching a few strands of hair as he yanked it off over my head.
“Shit, sorry,” he whispered when I hissed and reached to rub the spot, only to have him kiss the sting away.
“It’s okay, we gotta hurry.”
