November Heat

3

“Po, remember when my crew was putting out the fire in the building where your old lady lives?” Ben said in a smooth, coaxing tone. “I carried her out in my arms, for f**k’s sake…”

Po’s hand slid away from his holster. He gave a tight nod.

“Get her in the car,” he muttered. “I’ll drive you two to your place.”

He lifted his gaze to Ben and clenched his jaw.

“On your head be it.”

Kate lunged, trying to dart past Ben, but he hooked her leg, swept her clean off balance, and scooped her up again. He slung her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing, and Kate was suddenly, genuinely horrified by how strong he was. She snarled and sank her teeth into him a couple more times, but for some reason this time she didn’t even draw blood.

The cop unhooked a pair of handcuffs from his belt and tossed them to Ben, and that’s when Kate finally realized this was a full-on male conspiracy.

While Ben shoved her face-first toward the low trunk opening of the patrol car and cuffed her hands behind her back, the cop edged around him along the wall and grabbed her poor, long-suffering bag. Judging by the fact that nothing was dripping out of it, the bottle of cognac had survived. Kate shut her eyes and wished with all her might that this was just some stupid nightmare.

No such luck.

She stopped struggling for a moment, and Ben used that chance to stuff her into the back seat of the police car. He was almost gentle about it, even steadying her head so she wouldn’t crack it on the doorframe. Kate thought he’d lock her in there behind the partition and go sit up front, but instead he settled in right next to her, crowding her into the corner.

“Please,” Kate whispered. “Just let me go. I won’t tell anyone about the lawlessness and bullshit you and your cop buddy are pulling together.”

“You’ve got heat coming on, and you don’t have a partner to help you through it,” Ben said calmly, stroking her hair and shoulder like this was all very reasonable. “You’re not thinking straight as it is, and soon you’re going to be smelling so sweet every alpha in the area will go into chase mode, and someone’s going to get seriously hurt in the fights. Come on, be a good girl, omega. Let me help you.”

“Stop calling me that!” Kate snapped, ramming her head into his chest again.

“You still haven’t told me your name,” the bastard pointed out. “Tell me, and I’ll call you by that.”

“Kate,” she hissed, deciding that the next omega he mentioned was going to cost him his nose, consequences be damned.

“Kate,” he repeated. “You’re a good girl. Just hang in there a little longer, fight it, I’ll help you through your heat. You’ll like it. You won’t suffer anymore…”

“What the f**k?” Kate cut him off.

Ben swore under his breath and said, almost offended, “I like you, but you are really weird.”

“We’re here,” the cop called from the front. “I’ll stay with the car. The rest is on you.”

Kate stared out of the window at the big two-story house, thrown for a loop. Ben read her silence all wrong and decided to explain:

“The fence is solid, the concierge is a beta, and the apartment on the ground floor is empty. If you start screaming, the neighbors will just call the police. Nobody wants to get dragged into a rut. And Po will tell them everything’s fine, that Ben Armstrong, commander of the fire crew, is already taking care of his mate.”

Kate fell silent.

The future unspooled in her mind in ugly colors. A normal PMS evening had somehow turned into an endless thriller about a gang of maniacs kidnapping her. She wondered, wildly: what next? Forced drugs and a back-alley brothel?

“You walking, or should I carry you?” Ben cut into her thoughts.

“I’ll walk,” Kate said firmly, nodding. She just needed to get rid of the handcuffs—then they’d see who was picking their teeth up off the floor and sobbing.

Ben was the first one out of the car. He helped her out, then leaned in through the front door to grab the bag with the cognac. He took her by the elbow and steered her toward the entrance.

She grudgingly noted the ornate metal front doors with lion-head handles, the marble tiles in the entryway, the wrought-iron railings curling along the stairs. Ben carried her to the second floor. Kate stayed quiet and turned her head away, pretending she’d surrendered.

“Relax,” he crooned. “You’re so tense. Am I going to be your first?”

“No,” Kate snarled.

“Then you’ve got nothing to be afraid of, om… Kate,” he corrected himself, trying to sound reassuring as he opened the door to the apartment.

Kate stepped inside, stared at the polished oak parquet and the paintings on the walls, and thought, Firefighters live pretty damn well these days.

“So, Kate,” Ben said as he shut the door behind them, turned the lock, set the bag on the floor, and folded his arms over his chest, towering over her in full dominance mode. “Why did you mark me?”

“Unlock my hands,” Kate said in a small, meek voice, slipping into the role of obedient little female, “and I’ll tell you everything. My wrists hurt…”

Ben unlocked the cuffs immediately, using the key he’d snagged off Po. Kate pressed her back to the wall, rubbing her aching wrists. Then, just as he bent down to reach for her bag, she ripped a painting from the wall and slammed it over his head with all the strength she had.

The glass shattered into tiny shards. His head punched straight through the paper with the abstract print and ended up sticking out of the frame like a ridiculous collar. Kate let out a stupid little giggle and lost a precious second.

Ben, without wasting time trying to pull off his new “neck brace,” grabbed her by the arm. Kate kicked him in the thigh, then in the gut, and drove a classic uppercut into his chin with her free hand.

He let go of her arm and grabbed her legs instead. They went down together. The frame still hanging on his neck smashed painfully against Kate’s head and finally splintered. Ben shook off the broken pieces and threw his weight on her.

He flipped her onto her stomach, wrenched her elbows back again, pinning both arms with one big hand. With the other, he reached into Kate’s sweatpants.

She screamed when the bastard’s fingers closed around her c**t and started rubbing.

“You’re going to come, then you’ll be able to think and we can have a normal conversation,” Ben growled over her.

He pressed his full, solid weight against her. And instead of beating her or forcing himself on her the way she’d braced for, he buried his long nose in her hair at the back of her head and started whispering filthy nonsense in her ear. The entire time, his hand kept working between her legs, steady, deliberate.

Maybe he actually knew what he was doing. Maybe her own body had just decided to betray her once and for all.

Either way, with blazing shame, Kate felt treacherous wetness gather between her thighs.