Bite Me

CHAPTER 16

The food was ice-cold but remarkably delicious.

They ate while naked on the living room floor. Vic tried to set some nice mood lighting, but the automatic fireplace didn’t work and he ended up covering one lamp with a linen napkin and turning on the TV, but muting the sound. It worked out surprisingly well.

Vic didn’t find out, though, until they were in the middle of their meal that Livy hadn’t eaten anything since hours before she’d gone into Whitlan’s apartment. How she’d lasted through two plane trips, that entire joust, and their amazing sex fascinated Vic. And watching her heal before his eyes, the bruises on her body and face all but gone, blew his mind. Shifters healed fast, there was no doubt about it. Yet it seemed honey badgers were even more resilient. Instead, the more food Livy put into her mouth, the stronger she became.

“This is a really nice place,” Livy remarked as she devoured more of the General Tso’s Honey Chicken. “A lot of times these rental vacation homes are . . .”

“Tacky,” Vic filled in for her.

“The pictures they have online never look the same as what you actually get. And sometimes they smell weird.”

“Rita’s smart. She keeps updating the homes she rents out so that they don’t just look like you’re renting out Grandma’s house while she’s in a nursing home.”

“So you’ve been coming out here for a while.”

“Since I was a kid. My parents brought me and my sister here at least once a year. They also took us to an all-bear town in Siberia every other year, and Moscow every Christmas to see the relatives.”

“Seems like you spent more time with bears than tigers growing up.”

“I did. My mother’s family pretty much cut her off when she married, then bred with a bear. They wouldn’t have been so hard on her if she’d had a couple of cubs with a tiger first, and then got married. The Cat Nation, in general, is pretty tolerant of that, but step outside that breeding plan of theirs, and you get the big family shunning.” He grabbed another egg roll. “What about your parents?”

“What about them?”

“I’m sorry. Was that out of line? Asking about your dad?”

“No,” she replied easily. “I just don’t understand the question.”

“Well, your dad’s white and your mom’s Chinese so . . .”

“Race, religion, politics . . . none of those mean a thing to honey badgers.” Using chopsticks, she popped another piece of chicken in her mouth, chewed, swallowed, and added, “Unless they’re in the mood to start a fight.”

“Pardon?”

“Badgers love starting fights, and we’ll use anything available to us to do it. Bigotry of any kind is fair game, whether we believe in the philosophy or not. Religion, no matter what you were raised as or believed in, is also a great fight starter. And then there’s politics, which is the best for when you really just want to see people beating the shit out of each other for a ridiculous reason. Badgers will go from one extreme opinion to another, whether they believe in it or not, as long as it gets that ugly fight rolling.”

“I always thought of foxes as the troublemakers.”

Livy snorted. “Foxes are lightweights. Cute little con artists and gold diggers. But honey badgers . . . we’ve been changing history since before a Roman honey badger told Julius Caesar that he doubted Pompey would have a problem with him crossing the Rubicon. And, of course, everyone knows about Rasputin—although he was kind of tall for one of us. But I think his mother was full-human.”

Vic had been about to put the last bit of egg roll in his mouth but he stopped and stared at Livy.

“And the rumor still holds that the Hundred Years’ War was started by badgers,” she went on. “And who can forget that the Borgias were all honey badgers?” Livy nodded. “Yep. My kind can start a knife fight at a sit-in peace rally using nothing more than overly expressive eyebrows. I’d call it a curse if we didn’t really, really enjoy starting shit for shit’s sake.”

“Even you?”

“Are you kidding? My parents sent me to private schools from preschool through high school for one simple reason. Private schools are a veritable shit-starting paradise. and they wanted me trained to be the best. But I met Toni when I was fourteen and she got me to focus on my photography instead of starting fights in the teachers’ lounge. She convinced me to make it the most important thing in my life. Once I did that, I stopped caring about making everyone else miserable. I don’t think my parents ever forgave Toni for that, either.”

“Why would they want you trained in shit starting?”

“If you don’t desensitize yourself to fucking with people’s lives, it’s impossible to rob them. It’s impossible to break into their homes and take things that are invaluable to them if you don’t enjoy tormenting rich people just a little bit. And the Kowalskis and Yangs do not steal from the poor. So it’s private school for all of us.”

“They don’t steal from the poor? Because stealing from the rich gives them a sense of higher moral ground??”

“That and they just don’t like rich people.”

“And sending you to private school had nothing to do with getting you a better education?”

“As far as my parents were concerned, I was getting my education from them. I knew the basics and multiple dialects of four languages by the time I was nine. But all the kids in the family went to private school because that’s where the wealthy are. The people we’re trained to size up from the first ‘hello.’ In fact, when I met Toni’s mother, she was carrying around her Stradivarius violin while she was trying to rein in her kids. And my first thought was, ‘I could get at least fourteen million for that on the open market.’ ” Livy shook her head. “It’s a beautiful instrument. My parents could never believe I didn’t bring it home with me.”

Finished eating, Vic folded his arms and rested his chin on them. “Why didn’t you?” Vic asked her. “Why didn’t you bring that violin home to your parents?”

Livy took a sip of her wine and replied, “Because I liked the Jean-Louis Parkers. A lot. They treated me like family from the very beginning. Still do. It never occurred to Jackie and Paul not to attend my father’s funeral. Even though they knew there would be fighting and snakes and supermodel mistresses.”

“They were there for you. That’s why it never occurred to them not to go.”

Livy pushed her empty plate away and sipped more of her wine.

“Oh,” Vic said, “I should warn you . . . Toni found out that Blayne asked you to photograph her wedding.”

Livy winced a little. “Did Blayne duck in time?”

“No, but thankfully I was standing there, so I managed to get hold of Toni before her claws made contact.”

“You’re fast.”

“Speed’s important for my line of work.”

Livy watched Vic roll to his back, his hands behind his head, his gaze on the ceiling. She reached back and grabbed her camera off the couch. She adjusted the shutter for the low light in the room and raised the camera so she could look through the viewfinder.

Without moving his position, Vic asked, “Are you taking my picture?”

“Yes. But you’ll have to hold your position. It’s dark in here.”

Livy lifted one knee and balanced her camera on it. She checked the composition. Adjusted her body so that the camera moved the tiniest bit. Happy with that, she pushed the release, her heart racing a bit when she heard the slow-because-of-the-low-light click of the shutter.

“That better not end up on the Net,” Vic teasingly warned.

Livy took a few more before crawling over to Vic’s side, the camera held in her hand. She straddled his chest and looked through the viewfinder. “I wish the fireplace worked,” she murmured. “The firelight would look great on your face.”

“My cheekbones again?”

“They are fabulous.” Livy reached down and tipped Vic’s head slightly to the side. “Thanks for bringing me here,” she said. “I really needed this.”

“Toni said to get you away from Melly. This seemed like the best option. Not sure what you’ll do, though, when we head back.”

“My cousin Jocelyn is going to take Melly to one of our New York safe houses, which I appreciate.”

“One of your New York safe houses? You mean your family’s safe houses?”

Livy snapped Vic’s picture. “You can find Kowalski or Yang safe houses all over the world. In some cities, we have several.”

“Have you ever used them?”

“No. You never know when a relative is going to be there. Sometimes several, if there was a very big recent job and they’re lying low. And then you must deal with family, which I try to avoid. Besides,” she reminded him, placing her camera aside, “I have your house if I need to crash somewhere.”

“Anytime you want . . . just no more holes. It’s costing me a fortune to get those fixed.”

“What if I fix them?”

“No holes.”

“Fine.”

Livy stretched down, her arms sliding around his neck. She nibbled his jaw, then bit hard into his neck. Vic’s body jerked beneath her and he snarled a little.

“You play rough,” he grumbled, his arms still behind his head.

“I can stop if you want me to.”

“No need to be hasty. Just pointing things out.”

Livy licked her way back to his mouth, teasing his lips with her tongue. She twisted his hair around her fingers and massaged his scalp with her knuckles.

It was funny, Livy didn’t usually “play” with men. She was kind of a get-in-get-out girl. But this was Vic, and she actually enjoyed his company in and out of bed.

Vic finally pulled his hands out from behind his head and stroked them up Livy’s sides and around to her back, smiling as soon as he unleashed his claws, the tips dragging along her spine.

Sighing, Livy kissed Vic, burying her hands deep into his hair, and holding his head tight while she took his mouth.

But then he suddenly pushed her away. “Here,” he growled, pushing a condom packet into her hand.

“The cat awake again?” she asked, moving down his body until she straddled his knees and had easy access to his cock.

“What do you think?”

Livy removed the condom from the packaging, but she held on to it while she took Vic’s cock into her mouth. She deep-throated him, sucked, deep-throated him again. She pulled back, ran her tongue around the tip, then sucked him deep again.

That’s when Vic snarled, “Unless you want a mouth full of—”

She pulled his cock out of her mouth before he could finish that lovely description and put the condom on it. Livy took her time lowering her pussy onto it, but Vic suddenly gripped her waist and yanked her down.

Vic gasped but Livy laughed. “So impatient.”

“You take too long.” He ground his hips up and Livy wondered if he was trying to reach the back of her throat that way. And wondered if he possibly could.

Livy pressed her hand against his chest. “Are you going to let me do this, or are you going to try and rule from below?”

Vic studied her for a long moment, gold eyes squinting at her.

“No,” he finally stated. “You can take control later.”

Vic lifted Livy off his cock and before she knew it, she was on her knees in front of the couch, her head and arms resting on the cushions. Vic settled in right behind her, a knee pushing her legs apart. Then he was inside her, buried deep. Big, long arms stretched past Livy, his hands taking hold of the couch back. It was like being mounted by a giant, which she found shockingly arousing.

“What’s so funny?” he panted against her ear.

“As a matter of fact . . . nothing.” Livy turned her head and rested her cheek against the couch cushion. She allowed her whole body to relax. “I’m just sitting here, waiting for you to fuck the hell out of me.”

What was this woman doing? Vic had known that taking a honey badger into his bed was a dangerous proposition. How could it not be? But he just figured that would mean he’d end up covered in lacerations and feeling used. Something most shifter males learned to get over very quickly.

But this was worse. Because every time Livy let him know how much she was enjoying his rude and demanding bedroom antics, he knew he was becoming more attached to her. Attached to a woman who had an apartment she never lived in because she kept ending up in other people’s cabinets instead. Or under their beds.

Vic knew that getting attached to Livy Kowalski would only lead to trouble. Yet here she was . . . accepting the multiple sides of his nature.

How dare she?

“You know, you’re making me nuts!” Vic accused.

“I know.” Livy chuckled. “And I’m not even trying!”

Livy looked back at him and leaned up a bit, kissing him on his jaw. It was a sweet, simple kiss. Again, just accepting Vic as he was.

He fought his intense desire to say something really stupid. Something he wouldn’t be able to take back that would have Livy Kowalski running for the nearest exit.

Vic knew he couldn’t say anything. He couldn’t.

So he fucked Livy instead.

Who knew a little kiss would get Livy nailed to the couch? Not that she minded, because again, she didn’t.

She liked the way Vic fucked. That huge cock, reaming her from behind, filling her up. His big body over her. Some might feel overpowered by such a big man, but the position reminded Livy of being in the cabinets in Vic’s kitchen. All that was missing was the honey.

Then again, maybe the “honey” here was the multiple orgasms Vic was pounding out of her. Orgasms so powerful, she had to bury her face in the couch cushion and scream them out.

Livy finally collapsed to the couch, Vic thrusting a few more times until he came seconds later.

His arms wrapped around her, Vic pulled her back and up until he could kiss her.

They stayed like that for a bit, Vic holding her in his arms while they slowly kissed and waited for their hearts to stop racing.

That was when Livy said, “Vic?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m still hungry.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Me, too.”

Together, they looked at what was left of the food across the room.

“It sure is far away,” Livy sighed.

“We can make it,” he said, back to his kind, sweet, and extremely goofy bear self. “How can we not?” he asked. “You’re a knight of the realm.”

And Livy laughed. Because seriously . . . how could she not?