“Harley—”

“You’re welcome.”

He blinked. “I’m welcome?”

“For capturing the bird and stopping Hector from learning anything we don’t want him to know.” She patted his cheek. “All is good.”

“Let it go, Jesse,” advised Eli. “We wouldn’t have had a chance of catching the bird without her cat’s help. Ally’s vision proved that.”

With an annoyed grunt, Jesse focused on his meal. He knew his mate wasn’t someone who would hide from trouble, but that didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.

A short while later, the Alphas and Betas returned. Roni looked up at Nick and prodded, “Well?”

Nick sighed. “Ally was right; she’s just a scared kid who’s trying to survive. Her name is Ellie, and she’s agreed to only feed Hector the info we want him to know. She doesn’t like him or what he’s doing, so she didn’t need any convincing. We’ve let her go.”

“I gave her Makenna’s contact details,” said Shaya. “Ellie’s agreed to go to the shelter. She probably would have gone sooner if she’d known it existed.”

Harley leaned into her mate. “Done brooding now?”

He grunted again.

“I’ll take that as a no.” She tried to stand, but he held her in place. Harley wagged her finger. “Nu-uh, you don’t get to sulk and pout and keep me here with you.”

“I don’t pout.”

“You so pout.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You hear that? That’s the sound of someone pouting.” Harley blinked as he shot to his feet and flung her over his shoulder. “Hey! This is just rude. Plain rude.” She tried to pull his jeans up to give him a wedgie. The bastard spanked her ass! So she pounded her fists on his lower back. Finally, he plonked her back on her seat.

“Happy now?”

She stiffened at his curt tone. “As a matter of fact—”

“Good.”

Asshole.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Okay, baby, break.”

Harley lined up the cue stick to the white ball, aimed, and took her shot. The cue ball hit the triangle of fifteen balls hard. One of the striped ones rolled into a pocket, and she smiled. “The solids are yours.”

Striped, solids—Jesse didn’t care which balls he’d be hitting. Not when his mate was wearing only a white thong and a matching lacy babydoll that hid absolutely nothing. He’d wanted them to play pool naked, but she’d insisted on half naked, which was why Jesse was still in his jeans. He’d expected Harley to simply yank off her top; he definitely hadn’t expected her to stroll down the stairs wearing a scrap of lace that was as hot as it was torture.

He inwardly groaned as she bent over the table to take another shot, making her breasts almost spill out of the cups. His cock was hard and heavy, needing release. Uncomfortable, he tore open the buttons of his fly. Her eyes snapped to him and roamed down to his cock. She swallowed and went right back to the game. And missed her shot. He smiled. “My turn.”

Harley backed away from the table, taking a good look at his ass as he moved around. When she’d come downstairs and watched his eyes flare with need, she’d expected to have the upper hand. As she’d walked around the pool table, his heated gaze had been locked on her with the same focus that a predator watched its prey. Yeah, she’d had the upper hand. That had lasted right up until he’d unbuttoned his fly. His long, thick cock had brought her off more times than she could count. She couldn’t look at it without wanting it inside her.

Watching as he pocketed two balls, she silently swore. Both Harley and her cat hated to lose. Clearly she’d have to up her game a little. As he lined up his next shot, she flicked one of the straps off her shoulder and danced her fingers along the edge of the table as she slowly rounded it. Opposite him, she stopped. He stilled as he noticed the fallen strap, which flashed him a little more of her breast.

“You trying to distract me, sweetheart?” he asked, voice husky.

She faked offense. “Would I do that?”

“Oh yeah.”

Leaning over the table, she used her arms to squash her breasts together. “You know me so well. Are you going to take your shot or not?” Harley smiled at his narrow-eyed look. He lined up the cue, aimed, hit . . . and the ball rolled right into the pocket. Bastard.

Smug, Jesse said, “No need to hiss, baby.” She’d been distracting him since he was a juvenile; he was used to it at this point. Eyes holding his, she propped her cue on the floor. Her hand curled around the top of the stick, and then she was stroking that hand up and down; making him remember how soft it felt as it skillfully pumped his cock. “Tricky little cat, aren’t you?”

Harley flashed him a smile full of feminine challenge. She knew how determined he was to win. They’d made up their own set of rules for the game, and they had agreed that the winner would have control during the fucking session that would immediately follow. He had a big thing for control, and she had never once given him full control in bed.

“Admit it; you wish it was your cock in my hand, don’t you? If I’m all yours, this is your hand. There’s only one thing it should be pumping like this.”

Jesse had to smile. “Oh, you’re good.” She was not only putting visuals in his head, she was playing on his extreme possessiveness. “But it’s not going to work.” That proved to be wishful thinking on his part, because he missed his next shot. Looking very pleased with herself, his mate then stepped forward. She sank one ball. And another. And looked ready to pocket yet another. He couldn’t have that. “When this is over, I’m going to fuck you so hard it’ll hurt.” And the white ball missed the striped one and went rolling into the pocket.