“Why not?” Devon asked.
“He and I have an understanding.” Tanner’s face was a pure taunt as he added, “Look, I know that close contact with me makes it hard for you to deal with your feelings for me.”
“Feelings?” Her nostrils flared. “You mean the colossal, infinite, bottomless hatred?”
Smiling, Tanner teased, “There’s a fine line between love and hate. Don’t be embarrassed that you don’t trust you can resist me.”
“I don’t trust that I won’t annihilate you.”
“Annihilate? Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
Devon hissed. It was the purest temptation to snatch one of the pans that dangled from the rack and bash him over the head with it. And then his mind brushed hers, strong and determined.
You may not like it, kitten, but you’re under my protection. An attack on you is an insult to me. You won’t push me out of this, so there’s no point in trying. If you really don’t want me working with you and Jolene to find whoever wants you, fine, I’ll try tracking him alone. Whoever gets to him first will be the one who kills him.
Devon narrowed her eyes. Not fucking likely. Because there was every chance that he’d find the culprit first.
Then we work together. Which will also mean finding him faster.
She hated that he made sense. “You’re an asshole.”
“The majority of the time, yeah, I am.”
Well at least he wasn’t lacking in self-insight.
Tanner turned to Jolene. “Do you have an issue with me joining the hunt for the bastard behind the kidnapping?”
Jolene delicately shrugged one shoulder. “So long as I get my hands on whoever wants Devon, I don’t give a rat’s ass who tags along. Provided, of course, you understand I’m the one running the show.”
Devon silently cursed at her Prime’s agreement. Another familiar mind slid against hers, humming with warmth and amusement.
I must admit, watching you and Tanner interact is quite entertaining, said Adam.
Devon shot her anchor a glare. Fuck off.
Adam’s laughter floated around her head. He’s hot. All that alpha energy is totally flipping my switch—and yours. Admit it.
Admit it? She’d rather swallow glass. He’s a hellhound, I’m a hellcat.
Ah, forbidden love.
Biting back a curse, Devon glanced at her watch. “It’s been a while since I was taken. It’s possible that the broker’s men aren’t coming for me. Maybe someone tried telepathically contacting Maverick, got no response, figured something was wrong, and decided not to take any chances.”
“I had the same thought,” grumbled Jolene. “I’m just hoping I’m wrong. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep—I’ll call if anyone appears at the cabin.”
Nodding, Devon pushed to her feet. “Has my car been found yet?”
Jolene’s gaze turned inward, signaling she was communicating telepathically. Then her eyes came back into focus. “No, unfortunately. But it will be found.”
“I’ll drive you home, kitten,” said Tanner. He held up a hand when she went to object. “Haven’t we done enough arguing for one night?”
Devon snorted. “No.”
He smiled. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”
CHAPTER THREE
She let him take her home. Mostly because fighting him on it only made him smirk and accuse her of being nervous around him. Asshole.
Riding shotgun, Devon couldn’t help but be excruciatingly hyper-conscious of every gloriously masculine inch of him. Tanner might get on her last goddamn nerve, but that didn’t stop her body from reacting to him—stomach knotting, pulse quickening, skin charging with a familiar sexual buzz that made her nerve endings tingle in awareness.
It was senseless to give herself a hard time about it. Her defenses didn’t stand even the tiniest sliver of a chance against all that alpha energy.
Maybe it was like calling to like or something, but her libido always did the mambo for fellow hellbeasts. They liked rough sex—there was often a lot of biting and clawing. That wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t venomous.
Devon often had to be careful not to bite her sexual partners, since she didn’t want them writhing in pain or being struck by temporary paralysis. But as hellbeasts were immune to each other’s venom, there was no need to hold back with them. There was something very freeing about—
“It’s not like you to be quiet,” he said.
“I’m thinking.”
“About me, right?”
Devon forced a snort. “You’re not that interesting.”
“Hey, it’s okay, kitty cat. I have plenty of impure thoughts about you. I can just imagine us in bed together … Reading. Watching TV. Playing UNO. Doing totally nonsexual things.”
“Do you ever wonder what life would be like for you if you weren’t such a fucking weirdo?”
“You’re not gonna convince me that you don’t like me, kitten. I’ve seen how you look at me. It’s not nice being ogled and objectified, you know. I need a little warmth, sensitivity, and connection.”
She rolled her eyes. “Come back when you’ve grown some pubes, pooch. We both know that could take a while.” He let out a throaty chuckle and, honest to God, her nipples pebbled. She wondered if the guy gargled grit or something—how else could he make his voice that gravel-rough?