The Maverick Pride Tales - Chapter 154: Chapter 154

Holy. Fucking. Shit.
How could eating be sexy?
Oh—he thought as the little minx licked her spoon with her long, limber tongue—that’s how.
Hank’s eyes crossed for the umpteenth time as Annabeth ate her dessert with gusto. When he’d stopped for lunch at a promising looking burger joint, he had no idea the place was a throwback to the 1950s, complete with soda jerk and a long list of unusual homemade ice cream flavors.
Watching her eat had become something of an obsession for him. He worried about her comments regarding her shape. Crazy female. Didn’t she know she was perfect?
Annabeth was not some dainty little miss. She was a motherfucking badass Lioness. A Hunter. A predator. A powerful, sexy, apparently brilliant, and cute as a button woman. She was funny, smart, ridiculously good at putting other people at ease. He’d watched her charm Rosa and Bob, and every sonovabitch waiter they’d had on their road trip—made longer by the unfortunate accident on the parkway.
But she was also honest and sweet. Her charm was natural, like those beautiful golden highlights in her hair. She was not like the usual business woman his company drove around. She looked at people when she spoke to them—and she never spoke never at them. That was particular pet peeve of his. Hank hated folks who put on airs. Funny, cause that is exactly what the entire flock of fuddy duddies at the North American Tower were like. They were nothing but a bunch of stuck up bird brains all caught up in breeding.
His Gyrfalcon growled and stretched his wings, clawing angrily at Hank’s insides. The Tower had sent him an email that morning, and he’d yet to answer. His animal didn’t want him to, but a promise was a promise. Right?
“Excuse me a minute, Hank, I need the little girl’s room,” Annabeth interrupted his thoughts, and he nodded dumbly, pushing her plate and his to the center of the table.
They’d both ordered humongous triple beef patty burgers with buckets of cheddar cheese, mushrooms, onions, and a special sauce that had just a dab of horseradish, complete with a side of disco fries.
The luscious Lioness had practically jumped on the waiter when he’d suggested a frosty treat to finish the meal. The remnants of her strawberry sundae were melting in the bowl and Hank leaned forward to pluck on juice morsel from the side.
Delicious. Of course it was. His gaze roamed to find Annabeth walking back to their table. A stranger bumped into her, and Hank could tell the fucker had done it on purpose just to get his hands on her. He jumped up to intervene, but the saucy Lioness wasn’t having that man’s shit. She politely pushed the man’s hands off her shoulders and nodded politely while walking away. Was it wrong that he felt so motherfucking proud of her?
Grrr. Hands off douches. This one is a badass.
Okay, so Hank sorta had an itty-bitty problem controlling his Falcon whenever she was out of his sight. Even now as she took her seat, the waiter came rushing over to offer a hand. Like she needed it. For fuck’s sake.
“How was your sundae?” the kid asked.
“Are you kidding? It was amazing. Now, tell em you’re eighteen cause a man who orders like you is just ripe for the marriage market, and honey, I am currently looking for a Mr. Golden,” she joked.
Hank saw red as the young waiter blushed and flirted back with Annabeth. What. The. Fuck. She was proposing marriage to strangers now?
So what? It was just some harmless flirting.
Kak kak kak kak.
This was so not his business. And yet. He wasn’t so sure about that since his talons were threatening to pop out when the young male cocked his hip to the side and gave Annabeth a slow once over.
“I’m nineteen, Miss. Plenty old enough,” the young server replied.
“I bet you drive all the girls crazy,” Annabeth complimented him as she handed over her credit card.
Fuck. When did she sneak that past him?
“I would have paid,” he grumbled.
“It’s fine,” she replied coolly, looking down at her phone.
It was a Shifter run place, most every restaurant or hotel on his radar was. Hank preferred that to places where normals frequented whenever he was enroute with a client.
But Annabeth is not just a client, is she?
Shut. The. Fuck. Up.
He snarled at his raptor, shushing the animal.
Hank did not want to hear any more about it. Bad enough he was doomed to be in her presence for another half hour.
Okay, he relented.
Doomed was a harsh word. Being with Annabeth was not exactly a hardship. She was fun and gorgeous, a true pleasure to be with. In fact, he could not quite wrap his head around the fact he would not see her after this.
Shit. That felt wrong. He was going to miss her. Her smile, her laughs, her quick wit, and sense of humor. The way she tapped along in time with whatever music she’d turned on when they were driving. The way she ate ice cream.
Holy fuck.
Those lips, that tongue, her whimpers of pleasure all brought to mind dirtier, naughtier things he’d like to do to elicit such erotic sounds from her tempting mouth.
Sigh.
He really had to stop this. Driving with a hard on was fucking difficult. Driving with the worst case of blue balls he’d ever had in his life was damn near impossible.
Want. Claim. Mark.
Hank was Falcon enough to admit he wanted the sultry little morsel, but he was not claiming or marking anyone. He’d made a promise, and he felt obligated to keep it.
Break the fucking promise. She is ours.
“Excuse me. I’ll be right back,” he murmured.
He needed to splash some cold water on his face before he got in the car again. His father’s words came back to him as he stood up to use the washroom.
“Hank, real men honor their vows. They respect tradition. You must keep to the family ways. Stay with your own and ensure our survival.”
As a kid, he’d hated his stern father’s lessons and warnings. The man was never happy, and it showed. He did not even seem to like his only son. Hated it when he’d tried to make friends with other Shifters at school.
“Stay away from the riffraff, Hank. They are not our kind.”
He’d kept the young eyas homeschooled and away from others. But that only served to enhance the boy’s curiosity. In fact, now that he thought about it. His father had controlled a lot of Hank’s and his mother’s social lives.
They’d never attended community functions, only those of the Tower. Traveling great distances to visit with other Falcon families whom the great Gerald Garret thought worthy of receiving them. Shifters with old money, their circle of friends, or whatever you wanted to call them, were small.
Those days sucked, his Gyrfalcon reminded him.
That is why we started the Falcon Limousine Service. All Shifters. No holds barred. Remember our fledgling years? No friends. No smiles. It was bad, Hank.
Annabeth smiles. She makes us smile.
Hank’s eyes darted back to where Annabeth sat in the booth, licking the last bit of chocolate hazelnut strawberry ice cream from her spoon. Her golden eyes closed as she savored the mouthful, and he wished he were sitting beside her, kissing that dribble of chocolate from the corner of her mouth.
The server, who’d remained to chat with the lovely feline, lifted a napkin and wiped the spot, causing an inordinate amount of jealousy to rise, and swiftly too. It was so intense, it damn near strangled him.
Hank growled low in his throat. The sound easily deciphered by the Shifters in the joint. The waiter looked up. Eyes wide, he yanked on the collar of his shirt, then excused himself quickly while Hank walked back to the booth.
He took the spoon from Annabeth’s suddenly lax hand, realizing a little belatedly that she was staring at him with her mouth open. Okay, so his behavior was sort of shocking. But what was a guy to do? He tossed a few bills on the table, paying the tip before she could add it to the receipt, and grabbed her hand.
Hank yanked her up none too gently, but that was okay. She was Lioness, and he was holding onto his skin by a thread. The young waiter’s scent lingered around her, and that really pissed him off. He moved closer behind her, hands on her waist and proceeded to frog-march the naughty kitten out the door, straight to his limousine.
“What the heck, Hank? I wasn’t done⁠—”
“You were finished,” he growled, clicking the key fob to unlock the doors before he gently shoved her inside.