The Maverick Pride Tales - Chapter 145: Chapter 145

“I’m yours.”
Annabeth sat up in her bed. When had she fallen asleep? Fuck! She was supposed to be packing! Panic filled her. What time was it? What the hell did it matter?
The sexy voice growling at her through the phone sent notes of arousal spiking through her still sleepy blood. Annabeth closed her eyes and cleared her throat.
“Um, excuse me,” she mumbled. “Can you say that again?”
“Uh, I mean, I’m your driver,” Mr. Sexy-Voice-Over-The-Phone corrected himself to Annabeth’s utter disappointment.
“Oh,” she said, wondering why her heart was beating double time.
“Um, okay,” she added as realization dawned. “Did Uncle Uzzi make my travel arrangements with you?”
Annabeth stood up, probably too quickly, since her stomach lurched, and her head felt light. She took in the disheveled state of her apartment with a reluctant sigh. She would have to do a load of laundry if she were going to finish packing and be ready for the sexy sounding stranger to pick her up later that evening.
Sounds yummy, her Lioness chuffed.
Her inner kitty was so bad sometimes. Annabeth closed her eyes and pushed the overenthusiastic feline back down. Even with her impending heat that was no excuse for her to get frisky over a little phone call.
“Yes,” the stranger answered, bringing her attention back to the conversation.
“Boy, you’re really a chatty Cathy.”
“Excuse me?” Mr. Sexy-But-Annoyed replied.
Sigh. It figures.
Dude sounded like a tight ass, and Annabeth was just riled up because of the naughty sex dream she’d been having from her catnap. Damn heat cycle was even invading her sleep.
“Nothing. Just one sec,” she mumbled, and took a sip from the glass of water on her coffee table.
Dehydrated after the surprise brunch her mother had brought over to celebrate her upcoming trip, Annabeth had imbibed more than her fair share of icy cold mimosas and petite pastries and mini quiches. Parched, she wound up chugging all twenty ounces of the clear, cool liquid. Force of habit, she shrugged and dropped the empty glass back on the table with an audible sigh.
“Are you okay?” Grumpy-doodles asked.
“Hmm? Oh yeah, fine, sorry. What were you saying?”
She grabbed a piece of paper and listened to his tersely given instructions, wondering what had crawled up his butt and died. He had all the warmth of a glacier and the personality of a corpse.
Sheesh.
“Are you listening to me, Ms. Golden?”
“Yes. I got it. Be ready. Downstairs. You are on a time constraint. Yadda yadda. Fine. Yes. Got it.”
“Fine. I will see you then.”
“Fine,” she rolled her eyes.
Ugh.
The movement proved too much, and she held her head against the sudden wave of dizziness that assailed her. Shifters did not usually get drunk or experience hangovers. However, when you were a Golden, you never could tell when something extra might make its way into your system.
Freaking Mom, she thought with a growl.
After Annabeth’s chance meeting with Uncle Uzzi, she’d come home to find her mother waiting with a surprise feast. Toni and Adrianna had come home for lunch as well. And they’d had a mini going away party.
So, they’d started with mimosas, but switched to tequila and orange juice soon after. Of course, you couldn’t have tequila without taking shots, and after a few dozen of those, plus whatever Mommy had slipped into her drinks, Annabeth had passed out midway through her packing.
Of course, as it always happened whenever her mother joined her and her sisters to celebrate, things got fuzzy once her eyes were fully opened. And also predictably, Annabeth woke up with less clothing than she’d started the day with.
Her frivolous feline mother had probably spiked everything from the croissant to the Cuervo. Annabeth growled. She did not have time for this crap. Still, there was a bright side. Small, but bright, nonetheless. At least Annabeth did not detect the slight nausea that came the morning after she had been unknowingly catnipped by her own mother.
Last time that happened, she and her sisters went midnight skinny dipping in the creek just beyond the Pride’s woods. Antonette had gone in with her, and if she recalled correctly, maybe one or two of their new Dire Wolf neighbors, and a few other Shifters who’d been hanging out at their roadhouse, had been there.
Talk about a night! But that was only after her mother had totally embarrassed Annabeth by telling everyone who had ears that her daughter needed a few rounds with a thick dicked Shifter before her heat cycle came upon her this year.
Fucking hell. But Patricia Golden was a woman on a mission. The Lioness wanted grandcubs sometime this year, and apparently, she did not care how she got them. Would even stoop to propositioning men for her daughter.
Sigh. Mothers.
It was like getting one of her kids knocked up was suddenly a priority for Patricia. Same with every other older Lioness in the Blue Valley Pride. They all wanted grandcubs.
Ever since Prince Leo announced he and his mate Sheila were expecting, the Pride’s matriarchs had been harping on every eligible female to get mated and producing already. Unfortunately, the Golden sisters, and their brother George, had no prospects to speak of.
“So, what time will you be here again?” Annabeth asked once the guy with the dreamy voice finished going over all his rules for the drive.
“As soon as I can. Address?”
Annabeth rattled off the address to her condominium in Blue Valley and hung up the phone.
“I have to finish something first, but I will be there in one hour and fifty-three minutes.”
“Not one hour and fifty-two?”
“No. I always observe the traffic laws, and as long as there are no surprises on the way, I will be there like I said, in one hour and fifty-three minutes.”
“Oookayyy.”
What a weirdo, she thought.
He’d hardly talked to her, and to be honest, the man seemed a little bit high-strung. This clearly could not be the guy Uncle Uzzi had promised would help her through her heat.
Annabeth wondered if she should call the old Witch with her mother’s implicit instructions that the male who would help her through this cycle be hung like the infamous stud horse Galileo, whose exorbitant fees for siring champions were well-deserved—just ask anyone in the horsing world.
It didn’t matter, anyway. Annabeth would not be creating any cubs this go round. Maybe not ever. She was simply one of those destined to be alone.
Sad meow.
Taking her old heat suppressants off the counter, she read the label and frowned.
Most effective in she-Cats under the age of twenty-five.
Of course it was. And here she was, thirty-three years old, unmated, and going through this alone. Again.
“Just in case,” she murmured, and swallowed two pills before jumping in the shower.
Miracle of miracles, one hour and fifty minutes later, Annabeth was dressed, packed, and standing outside her condo. She waited for her driver to pick her up, and almost fell off her seat when she saw the gorgeous, stretched limo pull to a stop exactly three minutes later.
“Wowza,” she purred, staring at the elegant vehicle.
The car was a beauty. Highly polished black paint glittering in the afternoon sun, but it was the famous hood ornament that caught her eye. The shiny silver lady dubbed the stuff of legends.
If memory served, the woman who was the model for the infamous Spirit of Ecstasy pendant was involved in a tempestuous affair with the company’s owner. Annabeth recalled the little she knew about it sadly. She loved collecting information, studying things that took her interest on the fly.
She had no idea Uzzi’s connection would be picking her up in a luxurious Rolls Royce. Annabeth sighed, drawn to the dazzling beauty that was the brand’s calling card. It was truly magnificent. Without even realizing it, Annabeth had stepped into the car’s path and walked right up to the small object, reaching out a hand to touch it reverently.
“Stop!” a deep, rumbly voice commanded, and although she never listened to orders, Annabeth halted.
Her eyes were caught in the gleam of the Rolls Royce limousine’s headlights, and she growled softly. Not in warning, she was shocked to discover. That growly little sound was more of a welcome to the owner of that deep, sexy voice. Her inner Lioness pushed against her skin, going completely belly-up as if waiting for rubs from the speaker.
“The hood will be hot,” the male stranger warned.
The vibrations from his deep, husky words seemed to stroke along the exposed skin of her arms and legs. Annabeth was wearing a sleeveless blouse in a deep red color and a pair of short dress shorts for the drive. She felt soft, feminine, and pretty. For some reason, that had been important to her after she’d hung up with the driver.
She stood like a deer, er, make that Lioness, in headlights until the owner of that sultry voice stepped around the car. Holy hotness. Annabeth’s lips parted slightly.
Now that was what a man was supposed to look like, she mused. Tall with wide shoulders, he wore a dress shirt and jacket, neatly pressed slacks, and black leather shoes. He looked professional, clean cut, and so damn sexy she almost sighed out loud.
Short, light brown hair with silver threaded throughout just at his temples topped his head and gave him a sophisticated air. He had sharp cheekbones, a straight nose, and powerful chin. His lips were a straight line, hard and uncompromising. Annabeth wondered if he ever smiled. What would she have to do to breakthrough that armor he wore? And no, she was not talking about his driver’s uniform.
His blue gaze seemed to take her in from head to toe, and Annabeth registered his shock. But before she could decide if that was good or bad, he schooled his expression to remain indifferent.
Bummer.
Her inner kitty would have preferred knowing up front if she was in the running—wait. What? In the running for what?
No. NO. NO!
Annabeth did not go in for guys who looked sharper than a tack. And this guy looked that and more. Like some sexy college professor from one of those smutty romance books Toni liked to read when she thought no one was looking. Sophisticated or not, Annabeth could tell despite all his finery, the man was lethal, deadly, and fine as fuck.
“Miss Golden?” he said her name like a question, and she realized he was waiting for her to respond.
“Yes,” she replied as he came around to stand just in front of her.
“I’m Hank Garret,” he seemed to purr, and for a moment she thought he might be a Lion.
Then she took a deep breath and realized she was wrong. He was not a Lion. She smelled no fur on him, but Hank Garret was not human. Oh no. He was something else alright.
I’m yours.
The words he’d growled over the phone earlier replayed in her head, and she found herself nodding.
He was hers.
Mine.
Mate, her Lioness hissed.
OMG.
Realization dawned so brightly, she gasped. She could hardly wrap her head around it. He was here, and he was hers. Annabeth Golden had a mate!
Uncle Uzzi did it!
Smiling widely, Annabeth moved closer to him, invading his personal space. Wanting to touch, to taste, to vault into his arms, she was damn near breathless with joy. But then he sidestepped her, opting for her luggage instead of the embrace she was hoping for.
“Are these yours?”
“Yes,” she replied confused.
Maybe he’s shy. Maybe he needs words first.
Okay, we can do that, her Lioness suggested.
“So, you know Uncle Uzzi?”
Annabeth waited while he loaded the trunk of the beautiful vehicle. Her soon-to-be-mate was just bashful. That was okay. She could be that way too, sometimes. And to be honest, this was all kinds of overwhelming.
“He is my uncle,” Hank clarified.
“Oh, wow. That is so cool.”
Annabeth smiled again. Her heart was pounding furiously inside her chest. She couldn’t believe it was going to be this easy.
Mate. Mate.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
Mate.
She sang in her head, but something was off. Why wasn’t he gathering her up in his arms and laying claim to her lips like she so desperately wanted him to? Arousal spiked through her blood. He smelled so good, like male and musk and something wild. She wanted to get closer to him, to rub herself all over him and catch some of that scent on her skin.
Annabeth waited for him to close the trunk. When he did, she was more than ready. Time seemed to slow down as his cobalt eyes pinned hers with an intensity so hot, she thought she might burn to a crisp. Warmth filled her, and moisture pooled between her thighs.
“I can’t believe Uzzi set this up after only one meeting. Your uncle must be a wizard,” Annabeth purred, boldly invading his personal space for the second time, with no intentions of relenting.
He smelled intoxicatingly good. This close, Annabeth picked up on more nuances of his natural scent. It was like spring breezes, budding trees, and freshly laundered clothes. Arousing, addictive, and so damned tempting.
She wanted more. Her Lioness chuffed, begging her for a closer sniff. She wanted to rub her fur on him, to mark him with her own musk.
Kiss. Nibble. Bite—eeek!
Slow down, kitty.
Every instinct pushed her towards him. There was no patience or fear. No foolish trepidation or self-doubt. This was right. He was right. She felt it in the way her stomach flipped. Knew it in the tightness of her chest squeezing her runaway heart. Annabeth bit back her moan as her nipples tightened beneath the silk and lace confection she’d daringly donned for this drive.
Her own sex warmed and grew slick just being near the gorgeous stranger.
No, not stranger—mine.
He was so neat and refined. Annabeth’s fingers itched just looking at him. Hell yes, she was definitely going to do something about his perfectly combed hair and unrumpled appearance. He was so clean, so neat. She could not wait to dirty him up.
Yes, please.
Annabeth was so going to love this. She licked her lips, waiting for his invitation.
Screw it, she thought.
Why wait?
He was hers. Had said so himself.
“Hank?”
“Yes?”
“Catch,” she purred, and then she did the one thing she’d been dying to do since she saw the man.
She jumped on him.