The Maverick Pride Tales - Chapter 80: Chapter 80

Michael closed his eyes, taking a moment to savor his proximity to Kylie before he stepped back down.
She rushed down the ladder immediately after him as if she was running from a fire with her head tucked and shoulders slightly hunched in.
Everything about her physical reaction was screaming at him to get away, but he just couldn’t do it. He took the ladder from her hands as she attempted to close it and moved it over to the other side of the banner.
“You got this then?” she asked, and he closed his eyes while a spike of lust surged through him at the dulcet tone.
“If you can stay and tell me when it is even, it might go a little faster,” he suggested.
He saw the minute she realized Jessica had left them to it.
“Fine, but you better move like green grass through a goose. I’ve got better things to do,” Kylie replied, her Southern accent flaring to life as she grumbled at him.
Fuck—her sass was so damn sexy.
He hid the stupid grin he knew he was wearing across his face. Must look like a simpering idiot. But how could he help himself?
She was too fucking adorable for him to not smile. The woman was driving him bonkers.
“Thanks. I can be quick, that is if that’s what you want. Quick but focused So I can do the job, but only when you want me to be. Otherwise, I prefer to take my time,” he replied with a wink.
Her eyes widened, and he guessed she understood the innuendo. That time he couldn’t possibly hide his smile. He was getting to her. That was good.
New plan, wear down her defenses then when she least expects it, pounce!
Fuck. That plan was likely to get his throat torn out. Kylie was a she-Cat, not some weakling. She-Tigers were notoriously quick to react when uninvited males entered their space or territory without permission.
Michael wanted her permission. Fuck—he even dreamed about it.
Jessica and Gretchen returned to the party tent. The two women were busy adding flowers, frills, and glitter to the dozens of large round tables the men had finally finished setting up.
Gretchen was currently scolding Lance, a younger Tiger and one of the Neta’s Guard, for knocking down a centerpiece. Reg, her mate, stood close by and glared at the younger man as if daring him to argue.
Jessica was shooting off rapid fire instructions at the rest of them, while casting glances at the entryway, probably looking for her own mate.
It seemed like everyone was finding a mate within the Pride, and that was a good thing. The upcoming birth of the Neta’s and Nari’s cub was a meaningful event shared by all. But none of it mattered as much as Kylie did to him.
The rest of them could have all been a million miles away for all the attention Michael paid them. There was only Kylie as far as he was concerned.
Hell—a thousand women could prance around him butt naked, and he wouldn’t see a single one of them. Not one.
No one else could compare to his pretty little kitten as far as he, and his Tiger were concerned. She was it for him. He wanted no one else.
No other female would do.
If only she wouldn’t keep herself so closed off from him! Kylie was a total mystery. He hardly knew anything about her past and her background. Not that it mattered.
He still wanted her—no, he needed her, like he needed air to breathe. She was a necessity. In fact, he looked forward to finding out every one of those secrets she kept so awfully close to her.
Michael was determined to discover the many enigmas that made Kylie who she was. He was greedy for the tiniest morsel of information. No detail was too minuscule or unimportant.
What kind of music did she listen to? What kind of books did she read? He knew she liked them, because he saw her cuddled up with an old e-reader time and again.
In fact, he’d sent her a new charger after he’d heard her lamenting her old temperamental one to the Nari and the other females. That had been a memorable encounter.
The confounded woman had thrown the gift at him and demanded to know what he wanted in return. When his answer was nothing, she’d lost all steam. He’d left it on her doormat later that day with a note saying, “I just thought you could use this and for the record, as a rule, gifts given by me do not require anything in return.”
He hoped she’d kept it, but he did not really know since she hadn’t mentioned it again. But Michael still considered it a win. Hunting for the tiniest tidbit of info on her had become his most earnest hobby.
What was her favorite food? Did she like warm weather or cold better? Favorite vacation spot?
He’d take anything at this point. Wondering about her was taking up ninety percent of his waking hours. Then there was nighttime.
Fuck—it was so much worse at night. That was when images of her popped up inside his head just to torture him. All that smooth, pale skin, those glossy pink lips, her soft blonde curls, and his favorite, those celery green eyes of hers. Kylie’s visage haunted him all through the long hours of the day, and at night, in his dreams. But at least there, he could touch her, talk to her, be with her.
Grrrr.
This had to stop. He needed to make her listen but was reticent to push the point. Perhaps the worst guessing game he played was the one where he tortured himself with thoughts on what she might like in bed.
It drove him mad with need almost every single night. He’d taken to shifting and stalking past her apartment when it got too bad. It was the only way to sate his animal.
After hours of watching, and listening, for any sign of her, he’d go home. Usually, by then, it was nearer to dawn. But that was the only way he’d finally succumb to sleep.
Shit.
He sounded batshit crazy, and he knew it. Running a hand over his face, he decided enough was enough.
“Kylie, I need to talk to you,” he said.
“It’s straight,” she answered, and was already walking away towards Jessica. Damn it.
“Kylie!”
“Sorry. Busy.”
She gestured in front of her but didn’t turn around. He gripped the handle of the ladder, crushing the metal beneath his palms. He’d just have to content himself with watching her walk away. Not like that was any hardship.
The flowy little top she wore over curve-hugging jeans was making his own denim pants uncomfortably tight. Her hair had grown out since she’d gotten to Maverick Point. He noted the blonde curls that trailed down her back in a sweet ponytail that highlighted her youthful complexion. Michael wondered if those curls were as soft as they looked. Hell, he even pictured them spread out across his pillow like a bolt of gold satin.
The image made his cock harden, and he realized he’d be walking around bent in half if this didn’t stop. He liked the platinum streaks she’d recently added, and the sole pink one beneath the crown on her head. She probably didn’t know he’d noticed that little bit of wildness about her. But he did. He noticed everything.
She was, in a word, lovely with her plentiful curves and Southern sass.
“Yo, Mike. The Neta wants us.”
Brayden ducked his head inside the tent and called him away before he could follow her.
His Tiger growled, but he quieted the beast. He would simply have to bide his time. Sooner or later, he told his animal, she would be his. There was no way he was giving up on her.
He followed the lumbering Bear of a man into the main house and waited for him to turn around to tell him what he wanted. The Nari had been napping when he’d gone to help with the tent, so he was not worried on that front. If it were a medical emergency, he was sure the Black Bear Shifter would have said so.
“The Neta has called a meeting,” Brayden grunted as he led the way to Hunter’s office.
Inside, Hunter, Reg, Lance, and Pierce were already waiting. As was someone else. An older man with a thick white beard and matching hair was sitting down, sipping on his ever present mug of tea.