The Maverick Pride Tales - Chapter 193: Chapter 193

“You seem different today,” Megan said after they left the diner.
She was sort of miffed he refused to let her pay, but she would make it up to him next time they saw each other. That was a promise.
“Different how?”
“I don’t know. Lighter, maybe?”
He clamped up at that, and she wondered if she’d said something wrong. She spoke without a filter most times, and that little quirk had gotten her in trouble before. Megan frowned, watching the trees speed by as he drove down the road. He pulled into the Serious Moonlight lot, but instead of parking near the bar, he stopped in front of an enormous barn-like structure.
“What is this?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
It was true what they said about curiosity and cats, and what were Tigers, after all, but enormous cats? She wrinkled her nose, taking in the scents of motor oil, paint, rubber, and metal that permeated the air. Was this a garage? His garage? Oh this was so cool.
Megan had noted the beautifully restored motorcycles lined up around the bar last night, though she didn’t have the time then to check them out in detail. She also knew the Dire Wolves MC used to be a real motorcycle club, riding around the world on the backs of their bikes. She’d even seen some of the custom work they’d done to the many Shifters’ motorcycles she did design work on over the years, but she did not know about this place.
“We picked this place because of the barn. Derrick thought it would make an ideal garage and workspace for modifications and repairs for our bikes, and the rest of the Pack agreed. Me included.”
“Wow! This is incredible,” she said, gasping as he slid the enormous door open.
“You think so?” he asked.
“Hell, yeah. All that talk last night, friend, and I don’t think you asked me what I do for a living,” she said, teasing him as she vaulted inside.
Megan’s mouth formed a giant O as she looked around, oohing and aahing this and that. Cole was great. He explained what stuff was and pointed out the different workstations and projects. She jogged over a to a matte black beauty someone left on a lift and sighed in pleasure.
“So, you’re a mechanic?” she asked though she wasn’t sure why she was surprised.
“Yes, ma’am. I mean, I work at the bar, too. We all do. But this has always been my passion,” he said, and seemed to tense as if he was waiting for judgement.
“That’s awesome. I suck at the mechanical part, but my Dad and me, we restored a 1970 Harley Sportster when I was in high school. Well, it was supposed to be Dad and Matthew, but my brother had football and stuff, so I filled in.”
“Yeah? Was it awesome?” Cole asked, gray eyes sparkling with interest.
He was so good to look at, Megan almost forgot the whole friends-only thing and stared at him for a beat too long. She cleared her throat, breaking eye contact, and continued her story.
“It was awesome. It’s where I discovered my fondness and my talent for painting. You see, that’s what I do. Custom designs on motorcycles and cars, trucks, even dirt bikes.”
Megan watched him for a reaction, and she wasn’t disappointed. Pure joy shot through her as she witnessed surprise and glee. Typically, her artistic abilities and preference for auto work was met with disbelief or a snort of derision.
“No way, lily! That’s fucking hot. I wanna see. Show me something you did,” he said, and she laughed as she pulled out her cell phone.
“Here. This is my website,” she whispered, cheeks burning.
“Tiger Lily Designs? Holy shit,” he whispered.
Megan hadn’t told him that little gem yesterday when they’d just met. She might have kept it secret a little while longer, but they were just gonna be friends, so there was no reason to hide it. In fact, she kind of loved the fact he called her lily just like her favorite flower.
“These are fantastic. You’re really very talented,” he said, handing her back her phone with care.
“You know, we always ship off our bikes for custom paint jobs and all that delivery back and forth gets expensive. I wonder, are you looking for clients?” he asked.
“Hell yeah, I am. Just moved to town, remember? I can use all the work I can get,” she replied.
They spent the rest of the afternoon looking through the Dire Wolves’ stock and the bikes of clients who needed custom artwork after the mechanical aspect of their machines was finished. After jotting some notes and making a list with what brand of paint and tools she preferred to work with, Megan was starved.
“I hear your stomach growling, lily, and I must say you have impeccable timing. I’m ravenous,” Cole said, and she looked up from the bike she was studying to see he’d moved closer.
“Oh, yeah, um,” she cleared her throat, wondering why he was looking at her like she was an all you can eat buffet and he was a starving man.
“You’ve got the prettiest mouth, do you know that?” he asked, stepping closer.
Megan swallowed, taking a step back. True, she was looking for a mate, but Cole had already told her he wasn’t in the market. Sure, they had a lot in common, but he wanted to be friends. Only friends. That was what he said.
“Cole?”
“So pretty. Such a good day. Never had a day like this with a woman.” His words were spoken so softly, so low, it was like he breathed rather than spoke them. Megan knew he was dangerous, and not just because he was an apex predator. Hell, she was one, too. No, Cole was dangerous to her for another reason.
He was dangerous to her heart. She’d known that from the first time she laid eyes on him. But he hadn’t tricked her then or tried to seduce her. He’d been up front and honest about where he stood on mating. Cole was a bachelor. He wasn’t inclined to bind himself to a female, and that was what Megan wanted more than anything.
A person of her own. Someone to love and be loved by. Megan had waited her whole life to give a man her heart. To build a life with someone. But Cole told her already, he was not and never would be that someone. So why was he inching closer, staring at her mouth like he wanted it? Like he would do anything to have it beneath his?
Anticipation trembled through her body and gasped as he leaned down and rubbed his cheek against hers. Did he know that’s what cats did to show affection? Did he know the seemingly insignificant gesture would catch her Tiger’s attention? Would win the Cat’s fealty?
What was he playing at? Megan hissed as his lips touched the same skin his cheek had rubbed. Fuck. it felt so good. Heat pooled between her legs and her belly had about a thousand butterflies all taking flight at the same time. She simply wasn’t sophisticated enough to play physical games with men. When she got intimate with someone, she put her heart into it. It was simply how she was built.
“Cole, what are you⁠—”
But it was too late. He was already kissing her, and worse, Megan was kissing him back. Her brain screamed no, willing her to end this stupidity, for it would only hurt her in the end. But her body was on fire. She’d never been kissed so thoroughly, so poignantly before, and she was powerless to do anything but hold on and follow his lead.
There weren’t many men willing to treat big, strong Megan Sudak to this type of raw carnality. Oh, she was not a virgin. After all, she’d gone away to school for a couple of years and took the odd vacation. Megan had met men. Dated some, even. But there was always something lacking. The males in her Pride were shy of her strength. Humans were too frail. That was why she contacted Uncle Uzzi.
Megan didn’t want sex. Well, that wasn’t true. She did want sex—and if the way he kissed was any indication of how he screwed, then sex with Cole was likely to be mind blowing—however, she wasn’t looking for only that. Megan wanted more than a memorable night, er, afternoon in bed. She deserved more.
Megan broke off from his kiss, turning her head to catch her breath. His hard body was pressed up against hers, and she thanked the gods for the wall at her back, otherwise she’d be a melted puddle of goo at his feet. He smelled delicious. Like Wolf and man, chocolate chip pancakes, ripe apricots, and sweet red wine. He smelled good. Her she-Cat purred deep in her throat, and she felt his reciprocal growl down to her marrow.
Dangerous boy. Sexy as sin, but hell on my heart, boy.
“Fuck, lily, you taste so sweet,” he growled, his forehead pressed against her temple.
She couldn’t help a smile spreading across her face at the sound of his Wolf so clearly in his voice. It was heady and empowering, knowing she was responsible for bringing forth his beast. Dire Wolves were not as volatile as other Shifters. They were older, wiser, more powerful, and content in that power. And yet there he was, growling and smelling of fur just because of Megan. Just because he kissed her and was still kissing her, leaving biting little pecks across her cheek, chin, and neck.
She moaned, and her arms tightened around him. Gods, that felt good. Megan froze, remembering her strength, but Cole hadn’t made a sound save for that sexy snarl as he continued to nibble his way back to her mouth.
“I bet you’re a wildcat in bed, aren’t you, lily? You gonna scratch my back up with those long claws of yours? Gonna let me feel your strength when you wrap these legs around my waist and I bury myself inside your heat,” he growled, and she gasped, giving him the opening he needed.
His fingertips teased the skin at her waist, and she moaned as they traveled up, up, up to cup her covered breasts. He’d coasted over the puckered scars of her past, a few leftovers from fights her brother forced on her over the years. Gods, she was tired of fighting. Tired of holding her brother’s life together. That’s what her move had been about, right? Getting her freedom. Living her own life. Yeah, that sounded right. Megan just wanted to live her life. Find a mate. Settle down.
Cole couldn’t give her that. But he could give her this. He could make her body sing with pleasure. Oh, she knew he could. It was in the practiced stroke of his tongue alongside hers, and the way he squeezed and pinched her nipples, conjuring arousal between her legs with every maddening moment that passed.
“Let me have you, lily,” he said, coaxing more moans and whimpers from her throat. “I know I should back off. I know you deserve more than me. But I can’t. I want you. Let me have you.”
Megan wasn’t strong enough to fight against his desire or hers. She didn’t even want to try. She reached up with both hands, cupping his face as she nodded her head.
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, Cole. Gods, yes. I want you, too,” she whispered.
His growl echoed in the garage and one second later he had her scooped in his arms and was jogging up a set of stairs hidden behind one of the shelves two at a time.
“Cole, where are we going?” she asked, holding on as he blurred through what looked like a pretty fucking posh apartment.
“This is my place. The Pack house was getting crowded, so I turned the old hayloft into a place for me,” he growled, dropping her on the bed.
He grabbed the back of his shirt with one hand over his head and pulled it off in one of those sexy bad boy moves Megan had only ever witnessed on TV. Holy fuck. This was happening, and it was happening now.
One, two, three, four—eight! The man had an eight pack! Was that even necessary? Her eyes crossed as she took in every curve of tanned muscle covering his body. His skin was smooth and mostly hairless save for the happy trail that started below his bellybutton leading to an ohmymotherfuckinggods enormous cock as he yanked down his jeans and stepped out of them.
Best of all were the dozens of tattoos covering his arms, chest, and abs. The design on his right side went all the way to his knees and whatever remnants of self-control she had just flew out the window. He looked like a god. Powerful, tall, built like a fucking monster, and so damn sexy he conjured wetness between her thighs with little more than a look.
The striptease he didn’t even know he was performing was enough to make her heart pitter patter itself into a frenzy. Her girly bits throbbed and ached, and Megan knew she was going to have one helluva time forgetting any of this. Of him.
But she couldn’t start her new life being a scared little mouse. She was a Tiger, dang it. A growly, powerful, independent badass of a single woman herself.
Er, yeah, sure.
Anyway, she was single. And she was a woman. And she had needs, dammit. Yes, needy needs. And they were making themselves known. Like now! Good thing it looked like Cole Mingan had all the right equipment to sate some of them.
Yes, please.
While all this inner dialogue was going on inside her, Megan was on top of his bedspread, completely frozen. Sure, she might have needs. But the question was, how did she go about, er, filling them?
“Need some help?” he growled the question, one knee on the bed as he gripped the base of his huge dick.
“Oh, um, right,” she mumbled, sitting up to take off her sweatshirt.
Megan hesitated, uncertainty pulsing through her. Usually, this part was done in the dark, but his loft apartment had enormous windows and the bright January sunlight was streaming in through them. Her gaze darted to them, and she frowned, but Cole was already on it.
“It’s one way glass,” he explained. “No one can see in, but I can change the opacity if the light is bothering your eyes.”
“It’s not my eyes,” she whispered, then added loudly. “I’ve got some scars. They aren’t pretty.”
“We all have scars, lily. They’re nothing to be ashamed of. Look, see this. Got this from my first motorcycle ride when I was twelve, broke my arm in four places,” he said, turning his arm and showing her a wicked scar over his elbow.
He wasn’t done. Cole’s massive, beautiful, tattooed, and muscular body also had more than its fair share of battle scars and war wounds. He showed her half a dozen more, before finishing with the most recent.
“This one I got fighting some Crows a little while ago. They came after Thor’s mate,” he said with a shrug.
Megan’s Tiger snarled possessively. The beast did not like anyone hurting what was hers. And oh fuck, she already considered Cole hers.
This was bad. Very bad.