Blackstone Ranger Rogue: Blackstone Rangers Book 4 Page 9

  “Gahhh.” He shook his head and took his hand out of his pocket. There was no way he was going to ask Darcey to come to that ball with him. He was already dreading the worst-case scenario of what could happen there. She didn’t need that shit to touch her too. And in any case, going alone would make it easier to slip out once he was done.

  By the night of the anniversary party, Anders was a ball of nervous anxiety. Breathing techniques that Sensei Toyama taught him had helped, but faced with the prospect of being in the same room as them was making his chest constrict and his heart pound. His tiger sensed his unease, and though it remained silent, he could feel the tension building in his animal.

  One hour, tops, he told himself as he pulled up to the front of Blackstone Castle. Even as he handed his keys to the waiting valet, all he wanted to do was yank the keys back and drive in the opposite direction. Or shift into his tiger form and run into the mountains.

  Get a grip.

  Swallowing hard, he pulled at the collar of his tux, feeling suffocated and itchy. He didn’t exactly have formal clothes lying around, so he had to rent this one. There wasn’t much time to have it fitted, and it was still tight around the shoulders. He wouldn’t be wearing it too long anyway, so it didn’t matter.

  “This way, sir,” a severe-looking waiter gestured to the hallway on the left. “The ballroom is at the end.”

  “Thanks, bud,” he said, patting the man on the shoulder.

  As he made his way to the ballroom, he already felt out of place just walking down the richly-decorated hallway filled with expensive artwork and plush furniture. He’d never even stepped foot in this house before, the home of the Blackstone Dragons. Though he’d been in school around the same time as Jason and Matthew Lennox, he wasn’t exactly part of their elite circle; not when he was the boy from the wrong side of town, growing up in a trailer that was probably smaller than the castle’s foyer.

  Music swelled as he entered the ballroom. Just as he’d predicted, it was packed, which made some of the tension in his body leave. Maybe it wasn’t going to be so bad. He could survive this night without having it turn into a complete disaster.

  You can do this, he told himself as he pushed into the crowd. A passing waiter offered a glass of champagne from the tray he carried, but Anders waved him away. He was going to be okay.

  Of course, all positive thoughts evaporated the moment he felt his tiger’s ear perk up at the sound of a familiar voice.

  “… and did you manage to find that species of antelope?”

  “Of course,” came the reply in that snooty accent that grated his ears.

  His back stiffened, and despite his mind screaming at him to walk away, he turned around instead. Sure enough, it was Darcey, looking devastatingly beautiful in a long black gown that hugged her figure and showed off her creamy skin, her long locks of white-blonde hair in waves down her shoulders. Her arm was looped around Dr. Cam Spenser, staring up at him. The smile on her face made his gut clench and a hot, tight feeling seeped into his chest.

  She must have sensed his gaze because she turned his head. Her face had the proverbial deer in headlights look when their eyes met. “A-Anders,” she stammered. “What are you doing here?”

  He clenched and unclenched his jaw. “This is an official Blackstone Rangers event. Why wouldn’t I be here?” He turned to Cam. “Didn’t think you’d take time away from peeping into birds’ nests and bagging shit samples to grace us with your presence.”

  “Certain dung specimens can be more interesting than some people,” Cam said coolly, the corner of his lips lifting up to a barely imperceptible smile. “But the company of a beautiful woman always trumps everything else.” His arm snaked around Darcey’s waist, the fingers gripping her just below her breast.

  Hot jealousy stabbed in his chest like a knife. His tiger was ready to lunge at this male for daring to touch her, but he managed to pull it back. God, he really wished he’d gotten some champagne from that waiter. “Well, I’ll be seeing you around.”

  “Anders—”

  Not bothering to let her finish, he turned on his heel and walked away. Casually, at first, but when he was sure he was lost in the crowd, his pace picked up and he glanced around anxiously. His throat felt dry, and so he headed toward the bar in the far corner of the ballroom, clumsily pushing people aside who didn’t move out of his way fast enough.

  The line for the bar was two-deep, but he didn’t care. He wedged himself between two women and made a grab for the man who was leaning against the bar.

  “Hey, what the hell is the matter with you?”

  He spun the other man around to face him. “I need a—”

  Fuck, no.

  It was hard to describe the feeling that slammed into his brain. Like a complete one-eighty, from the jealousy over Cam holding Darcey and now this.

  Unsettling.

  Unnerving.

  Shocking.

  Bile rose in his throat as he stared into golden eyes.

  “I said, what the hell’s the matter with you?”

  The man was probably a decade younger than Anders, and that arrogant smirk on his face made him look even more youthful. From the way his tux was cut perfectly to his body to the expensive watch on his wrist, it was obvious he was wealthy. Certainly rich enough to be invited here.

  He was also a shifter, but Anders didn’t need to reach out and try to feel his animal. It would only confirm what he already knew. Confirm who this kid was.

  “Christopher, darling,” a refined feminine voice said from behind. “Did you get me that drink?”

  “I was going to, Mother. Until this man cut the line,” he sneered.

  “Excuse—”

  Anders turned around, folding his hands over his chest.

  “Me?” The woman turned a deathly pale white as every drop of blood drained from her face.

  The fear in her eyes was almost satisfying. Almost. “Hello, Felicia.”

  “Mother?” Christopher moved protectively in front of her. “Who is this man?”

  Felicia swallowed, then turned to him. “Nobody, darling,” she said nervously. “No one you need to know.” Looping her arm through his, she tugged at him. “Actually, you know what, I’ve had enough to drink for tonight. Why don’t we go back to your father’s table and sit down for a moment? He’s been dying to introduce you to Hank Lennox.” Without another glance at Anders, she led him away.

  As he stared after them, Anders didn’t dare move. Not when his chest was ready to collapse into itself, and the only thing preventing it from crushing his lungs was pure willpower.

  “Anders?”

  Christ. “Not now, Darcey,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. Oh God, please. Not now.

  A hand came up to touch his arm, feathery soft. “Are you all right?” she asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  He did, in a way. Shutting his eyes, he didn’t dare look at her. Yet, her scent, her presence, was all around him. Like the entire ballroom filled with people had melted away and it was just him and Darcey there.

  “Who was that? He looks like—”

  With a growl, he pushed past her and stalked into the sea of people, wishing they would swallow him whole like the real ocean so he didn’t have to feel this way anymore.

  Chapter Seven

  Try as she might, Darcey couldn’t stay away from Anders. For one thing, her swan had been annoyed the entire evening. It hated Cam’s touch and smell and everything about him. Then when they bumped into Anders, it got even worse. She could feel it pushing against her skin, wanting to break free. So, when Anders strode off, she made some excuse to Cam and went after him.

  He had been talking to a young man and an older woman, but the din around her prevented her from focusing on their conversation.

  But, why did it feel like she knew them, or at least, had seen them before? Whoever, they were, they had upset Anders, though upset was a mild world to describe the look on his face.

  Darcey kn
ew heartbreak well, and if her instincts were correct, she had just witnessed it.

  Mine! Her swan beat its wings insistently, but it didn’t have to urge her on. No, something else inside her propelled her forward to chase after Anders.

  “Wait!” she called. Her eyes never lost track of him, even in the growing crowd of fancy ballgowns and black tuxes. It was as if she could pinpoint exactly where he was, like some kind of homing device. He was fast, but she could keep up, and there was only one exit out of the ballroom.

  He turned and she followed him, down a long corridor. Then the next corner. And then the next. How big was this place? It was huge from the outside, but in here, it was cavernous. Finally, the footsteps stopped, and Anders was nowhere in sight.

  Where did he go?

  Closing her eyes, she focused her hearing. There. Shuffling behind one of the doors. Moving closer, she reached for the handle, turning it and peeking inside. Sure enough, she saw Anders, his back to her as he leaned over the sink, palms planted at the edge of the marble. Quietly, she walked inside, closing the door gently behind her and locking it.

  His head whipped up, their gazes meeting in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes like twin fires. “I said, not now, Darcey.”

  Pain rolled off him, and she couldn’t help herself. Her swan flapped its wings, distressed at his condition. Seeing him like this, in agony … she couldn’t stop herself from coming closer to him, no more than she could stop the waves from crashing on the shore or the sun from setting every night. “What’s wrong? Tell me?” She raised a hand up, her fingers centimeters away from his face when she found herself pushed backward, her body caged against the door as Anders held her tight against it.

  “You want to know what’s wrong?” he said savagely, his eyes burning like molten gold. “Let me tell you a story.”

  “Anders, I—” She flinched when his fingers dug into her skin.

  “Listen up, buttercup, it’s a good one. A love story. Girls like you eat this shit up, or so I heard.” He gnashed his teeth. “Once upon a time, there was a beautiful tigress. One day, she met her mate—her fated mate. A lynx shifter who was as handsome as Lucifer and rich as sin. Their eyes met across a busy street, and she knew he was the one fate had intended for her. And so, they lived happily ever after, their mate bond ensuring that they would never, ever be apart.” Contempt dripped from his every word, and he continued. “Except it wasn’t as simple as happy ever after. The tigress was already married, see. To a human who didn’t understand things like bonding and fate and mates. She also had a son with him.

  “But the urge to be with her mate was stronger, stronger than anything else in the world. Stronger than her love for her human husband and her cub. Her old family was in the way, ruining her happy ever after. So, what could she do but leave them behind, pretend they never existed, so she could live with her mate and start her new family. Her rightful family fate had chosen. The day she walked out, she didn’t even remember that it was the cub’s birthday.”

  Realization swept through her as a pit grew in her stomach. Who that man and woman were, who had the same eyes as Anders.

  She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. “W-what happened to her cub?” Dread filled her, but she needed to know. To understand.

  “What do you think? Left behind with a father who didn’t know how to raise him, who only knew the bottom of a bottle of booze each night.” He closed his eyes, pain marring his handsome face. “He blamed his shifter wife for leaving him. Most of all, he blamed the cub, couldn’t stand to look at him as he reminded him of why his wife left him. It was the cub’s fault, and he let him know every single day with the back of his fist. That he deserved the brunt—”

  “No!” She couldn’t stand seeing him like this, agony eating him up. “It wasn’t your fault!” Reaching up, she cupped his face in her hands. “It’s not. Your. Fault.” Was it any wonder that Anders thought that the idea of her mother having good reasons to leave her at an orphanage absurd? Swallowing the lump in her throat, she stared into his eyes. The emptiness in them made her heart crack. “You were a child. They were the adults. They could have worked something out.”

  “Nobody,” he spat. “That’s what she called me tonight. In front of him. Looked at me like she never even knew me.”

  A deep anger began to boil inside her. “Well, that makes her an asshole. She didn’t have to cut you out of her life completely. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “Maybe I did. Maybe I was a bad—”

  She didn’t know how to stop him from talking, so she launched herself at him, pushing him back until his back hit the sink. “No!” she cried, digging her fingers into his arms. “Don’t say that! You weren’t a bad kid and you’re not a bad person now. You’re wonderful and kind and selfless.”

  He lowered his head, and the emptiness in his eyes began to fill with something else. Something blazing hot. Time slowed down, and it was as if a string was pulling at her, bringing her closer to him. Not just physically, but something else she couldn’t describe.

  And in a desperate moment, their lips met.

  Fire blazed inside her, consuming her. And God help her, she wanted to burn. His lips devoured her, like he, too, was being eaten alive with desire from the inside. Her fingers slid up to his scalp, raking her nails into his hair until he moaned into her mouth.

  His hands reached behind her, unzipping her dress so he could yank down the front. She whimpered when his mouth left hers to trail a hot path down her neck, then lower to her bared chest. He didn’t waste time as he nibbled and sucked at her breasts, drawing as much as he could of the flesh into his mouth while his free hand cupped and played with her other nipple.

  She cried out as his teeth grazed at her, pain melding with pleasure. He bent down, his hands pushing up the skirt of her dress to her waist, then hoisted her on top of the marble counter.

  “Anders!” She moaned as he knelt in front of her, then made quick work of her panties. “You can’t—” Her lips clamped shut and her eyes rolled back into her head when his mouth touched her already slick pussy.

  The wet, filthy sounds of his lips licking and feasting on her echoed in the small bathroom. His strong hands kept her thighs spread open, holding her in place even as she squirmed under his mouth. His lips and—oh God—his tongue, devoured and gorged on her like he hadn’t eaten in days. He licked at her, teasing at her lips and then her clit, sucking back on the bud until she was shuddering with pleasure.

  She barely had time to come down from her orgasm when he stood up, towering over her even with her sitting on the counter. His eyes blazed with naked, raw desire as they searched hers, asking without saying anything.

  Mesmerized by the hot fury of passion building inside her, she reached down to his pants. How she managed to unbuckle his belt while her fingers shook, she didn’t know, but in seconds, she was unzipping him and reaching inside to take out his fully erect, naked cock.

  Her hands encircled his shaft, stroking it. A breath caught in her throat as she felt him grow even heavier and larger, his excitement evident from his rough gasps. Moving herself forward, she guided his tip to her entrance.

  “Darcey,” he moaned and pushed inside her, spreading her, slowly filling her. “God,” he whispered when he was fully inside her.

  She closed her eyes as he gathered her to his chest, strong arms holding her, and she clung to him as he began to move. As his movements began to grow quicker, she managed to wrap her legs around him, urging him deeper.

  He held her tighter, one hand snaking up to behind her neck possessively as he collared her throat, then captured her mouth again. His kissed her deep, licking and nipping at her as he let out a growl and continued his relentless thrusting, the pressure of her impending orgasm building like a tight, hot ball inside her.

  She let out a yelp when he pulled out and she found herself whirled around; her waist pushed up against the counter. Anders caught one leg and hoisted it up, her knee
resting on the cold marble. Moving up behind her, he lined up his cock and pushed fully into her.

  She closed her eyes and slammed her palms against the mirror, bracing herself as he moved again, rutting into her, his grunts and moans triggering something primal inside her. His hands steadied her hips as he continued to pummel into her until she was shuddering with pleasure again.

  “Open your eyes, beautiful,” came the low growl, his breath hot in her ear. Slowly, she did open them and met his blazing molten gaze in the mirror. His expression was tense, but it only made him look more handsome, and if she were honest, a thrill of power came over her knowing that look of pleasure on his face was because of her.

  “So … good … Darcey,” he bit out. “Beautiful. Beautiful Darcey.”

  “Don’t … hold … back,” she breathed out. “I can take it.” She winced when he thrust in particularly hard but met his gaze again. There was something there she couldn’t name. Desire, yes, but also some deep longing he was holding back. “Do it.”

  He let out a snarl, then thrust his fingers into her hair. Savagely, he pounded into her, grabbing one of her arms and pinning it behind her. All the time, his gaze never left hers in the reflection of the mirror.

  Wrapping her hair around a fist, he pulled her head back and clamped his mouth on her neck, sucking on her skin and flesh. His teeth bit into her, and the pleasure that tore through her body came from nowhere.

  He let out a grunt, primal and deep and masculine as she felt his cock pulse inside her. She moaned, pushing her ass back to meet his erratic thrusts as his body shuddered with aftershocks and his arms encircled her torso, holding her tight.

  He groaned as he pressed kisses on her neck and shoulders. As his grip around her loosened and his cock slipped out of her, she sank back against him, leaning against him for support. Her legs were shaking as she eased herself upright.

  “Darcey,” he breathed against her ear. “Let’s get out of here.”