Bear It All: McMahon Clan 2 (Fated Mates #5) Page 2

  “I didn’t think you’d make it here this quickly,” I said as I walked over and sat in the chair across from him, the desk between us.

  “I left as soon as I got your message. It’s been a long four weeks hoping you’d be able to turn up a lead of some kind.”

  “Tell me about it,” I muttered, feeling a little offended at the hint that I was falling down on the job.

  He scrubbed his hands up and down his face. “Hell, I’m sorry. That came out the wrong way. I didn’t mean it as a criticism. I knew there was a chance you wouldn’t be able to uncover anything when you came up here, and I don’t blame you for how long it has taken for something to happen.”

  He was clearly tired from the drive up and I knew he was worried about his daughter’s safety. “It’s okay. I’ve been a little on edge, too, hoping we’d finally catch a break. Luckily, one of the waitresses mentioned a guy asking questions last night when I was off.”

  “What kind of questions?”

  “He wanted to know stuff about you and your family. How often you visit this location. If your daughter was involved in the business. It wasn’t enough to raise any red flags for her, though.”

  “Then why did she mention it to you?”

  I cursed my fair skin as I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. “Apparently, he’s a regular who comes in a few times a week—on all the nights I dance. He also asked her what my schedule was for the next couple weeks. She offered to point him out to me the next time we were working the same shift if he was here. She figured I’d want to single him out for a lap dance—maximize my tips.”

  His brows raised at my explanation. “I thought you said no lap dances when you agreed to this mission?”

  “Yeah, and it turned out to be a damn good call because everyone likes to tease me about it. It’s the only reason she even told me about him. She probably thought the idea of having a special fan would be enough for me to change my mind.”

  “It would be for most dancers,” he pointed out before getting serious again. “It’s odd he asked about Annora.”

  “It’s what raised the red flag so quickly for me. My instincts say he’s connected somehow. What are the odds someone else would be asking about her in the same area the guy you’re hunting is supposed to be?”

  “Slim to none,” he answered. “And I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “I don’t expect him to show tonight because I wasn’t supposed to work. I’m covering a shift last minute for another dancer who called in sick. My next scheduled day isn’t until Friday.”

  “Fuck,” he hissed. “We have to wait three more nights to find this guy? How did you end up with that many days off in a row?”

  “I covered an extra shift last week, too. Plus, your manager likes me to work through the weekend, so I’m down to one weeknight.”

  He cocked his head at me, his eyes twinkling with mirth. “The last time I spoke with Derek, he credited the sudden increase in revenue to the new dancer he’d recently hired. Should I be worried you’re going to quit your job with the council to become a stripper?”

  “If I did, you’d have nobody to blame but yourself, Councilman McMahon.”

  “Carrick,” he corrected softly. “You’ve certainly earned the right to use my first name.”

  The council members held a lot of power in the shifter community. Even after working for them for five years, I wasn’t on a first-name basis with any of them. I smiled in response, knowing it would feel weird to call him Carrick, and then changed the topic to safer things since I didn’t want to offend him. “It should be okay for you to stick around the next couple nights, and then maybe make a big show of heading out of town again before Friday. Just in case he shows up and asks any more questions.”

  “I’ll need to find somewhere to stay when we leave. The apartment won’t be an option.”

  The family kept an apartment on the upper level of the club and while it was convenient for them when visiting, there was no way he’d be able to sneak up there without everyone knowing he was still in town. “Damien’s been letting me use his safe house to get away a couple days a week.”

  His jaw dropped in shock. “Damien has a safe house nearby and he’s letting you use it?”

  The council’s enforcer didn’t have a reputation for sharing well with others. None of the dragon shifters did. Once they owned something, it was theirs for life—no exceptions. They protected their treasures with a viciousness not seen in any other shifter species. They were even more protective of their homes, and Damien was more secretive than most dragon shifters.

  “He owed me a favor.” My tone was firm, inviting no further questions. If he was curious, he could look up the council records for my last mission and see Damien had participated as well. But my notes didn’t include the information he’d be looking for and I was certain Damien hadn’t mentioned it either. The dragon shifter was secretive as hell.

  “I’ll call him tonight.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I muttered. “Meanwhile, I better get ready for my set.”

  I stood up to leave and made it to the door before he spoke again. “Would you prefer I didn’t watch you dance?”

  “Yes, that would be my preference.” The last thing I wanted was for one of the councilmen to see me as anything other than the kickass lioness I presented to the world in my role as their agent.

  “I’ll wrap up a few loose ends in here and get my stuff settled in the apartment then.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief as I walked through the door and closed it behind me before heading for the dressing room. Crisis averted. Now we just needed to bide our time until the bad guy showed up.

  The dressing room was a flurry of activity with women in various stages of undress. I sat down at my vanity and started to put on my stage makeup when I noticed Sheila out the corner of my eye. She was one of the strippers I’d befriended when I began working at the club a month ago. She’d worked here longer than any of the other dancers and had been a valuable source of information to me.

  “Any idea who the guy at the corner VIP table is?” I’d blurted the words before I had a chance to think about them and immediately wanted to kick my own ass for being this curious.

  She was busy shimmying into her costume for her next set and didn’t hear my question. It was a sexy cop outfit, complete with a set of toy cuffs attached to a chain at her waist. From past experience, I knew the second the regulars heard the opening notes to Baby did a Bad Thing by Chris Issak, they were going to go wild. If I wanted an answer, I needed to get it now.

  “Sheila!” I snapped, finally drawing her attention my way. “The guy at the VIP table? The girls are making a big deal about him being here. Is there something I need to know about him?”

  “Yeah,” she answered with a smug little grin on her face. “He’s one of the owners, and I’m going to blow him away with my next set.”

  “Fuck a duck,” I muttered. My luck really was running to shit lately. Apparently, Councilman McMahon had forgotten to tell me he hadn’t come to town alone. It figured the hot guy who attracted my attention was one of his sons.

  Chapter 3

  Braden

  “What was the point of hauling ass in the middle of the night just to sit here waiting for your agent to turn up?” I grumbled at my dad once he finally made it back to the table. We’d been at the club for an hour already, and still: nothing. It wasn’t like I’d been twiddling my thumbs, bored this whole time—the talent was damn good at this location, but we hadn’t come here to watch strippers. We could have done that without the road trip.

  “Who said we were waiting for them to turn up?”

  My gaze jerked from the stage, landing on my dad in shock. “You did when we got here,” I hissed.

  “I said we needed to wait. I never said my agent wasn’t here already,” he corrected me.

  “Well, then, where the hell is he?” My irritation bled into my tone.

  My dad chuckled before answering m
e, which only pissed me off more. “Maybe you should have gotten a shot instead of coffee.” A deep growl crept up my throat¸ warning my dad I was about at the end of my patience with the situation. “My agent can’t risk blowing their cover. We already spoke in the back and it looks like we’ll need to hang around until this weekend. We’ll talk about it more later.”

  “Hurry up and wait, dammit.”

  When the next dancer was announced, Dad’s lips quirked into a sly grin. “Patience has never been your strong suit, boy. Lucky for you, I have a feeling our wait isn’t going to be too much longer.”

  “Thank fuck,” I sighed.

  “I’m going to head out to the truck, grab our stuff, and get settled in the apartment. You want to come with?”

  The energy in the room shifted abruptly as the tempo of the music changed. I barely even heard my dad’s question or even noticed him leaving. I’d spent more hours in strip clubs than most men my age, and I’d never sensed the same level of anticipation in a crowd as I did now. The music was bluesy and sultry, making you think of long nights spent between the sheets.

  The second I saw her, I knew it wasn’t the song heating all the guys into a frenzy like I’d first thought—it was the woman slinking onto the stage. I felt the ripple of fur against my skin as my bear took notice of her, too. Her legs looked like they went on forever. I could easily picture them wrapped around my shoulders as I ate her pussy, those ridiculous red heels dangling from her feet as she held on tight. I dragged my gaze upward and caught the flash of color at her navel. Her piercing glimmered under the stage lights, the stone swinging on a hoop as her hips swayed with each step she took.

  I barely managed to hold back a groan when I caught sight of her tits encased in a black corset. Not quite a handful, but perky as hell. I wanted to know the color of her nipples hidden beneath the leather. Would they be a pretty pink, contrasting against her lightly tanned skin? One thing I knew for sure: I was damn well going to find out.

  Nimble fingers played with the ties laced up the front of her corset, loosening it little by little, teasing and taunting me with what lay beneath. She reached for the pole as my gaze moved toward her face. Her lips were plump, and looked like they belonged wrapped around my cock. The satisfied smirk tilting them up at the corners told their own story. Either she knew the reactions she pulled from the men in the audience and enjoyed the power, or she was damn good at faking it.

  She spun around the pole, her pale blonde hair swirling around her. I pictured it wrapped around my fists as I pounded into her from behind. Shit, this woman worked me up more than anyone else ever had. As our eyes met, my bear growled one word in my head and I realized why she had this kind of power over me. Mate.

  Her green eyes widened in recognition before she shook her head and moved into her next dance step—shaking me off like I didn’t matter. Like she didn’t know her fated mate was right in front of her while she unlaced her corset and let it slide down her shoulders. She didn’t get far before my roar filled the room. I stormed the stage with one goal in mind: shield my mate’s body from any other male in the building. And the females, too. My eyes were the only ones that would see her body again—ever.

  She took one step backwards before holding her ground as I leapt on stage. Her spine stiffened with determination before her startled gaze swept over my shoulder like she was sending a signal to someone behind me. It wouldn’t do her any good. None of the bouncers would come to her rescue. They all knew who I was and they’d never go up against me.

  I didn’t give her the chance to protest. Our first words weren’t going to be shared in front of an audience—especially not when she was almost naked and I was filled with rage at the idea of anyone else seeing her like this. She was tall for a woman, but she was no match for me. I swept her feet out from under her and tossed her over my shoulder. Without losing my momentum, I stormed off the stage, my hand over her ass, holding her down as I stomped toward the back office.

  As soon as the door closed behind us, I gently set her on her feet. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. Unfortunately for me, she didn’t seem to feel the same way—something I learned when she swung her head back and then slammed her forehead against my nose. Blood spurted down my face as she swung one of her long legs around and took my legs out from under me. Before I knew what was happening, I was flat on my back with her stiletto at my neck.

  “Who the hell do you think you are taking me off the stage like that?” As unbelievable as it was considering my current predicament, my cock started to harden at the sound of her raspy voice.

  Before answering, I breathed deeply and inhaled her scent. It confirmed what I already knew to be true, making my response an easy one. “Your mate. That’s who the hell I know I am.”

  “I don’t have a mate.” Even as her eyes flared with irritation, the scent of her arousal hit my nose. She could deny it all she wanted, we both knew I was right.

  “I beg to differ, kitten.” I might not have known what kind of shifter she was yet, but I’d caught the trace of feline in her scent.

  “I really don’t give a flying fuck what you think. I have a job to do and you have no right to interfere.”

  “Are you really going to stand there and try to tell me your fucking job as a stripper is more important than my rights as your mate?” The words flew out of my mouth even though I knew better. My bear’s possessive growls were driving me past the point of reason. Our dad sure as hell taught me and my brothers to respect the dancers in our clubs. He’d knock me on my ass for trying to make her feel ashamed of the work she did on our stage. Then again, I was already on my ass, which was a good thing, or I probably would have been knocked over at my dad’s response after he pushed his way into the office while she stared down at me silently.

  “No, you dumbass,” he grumbled. “Her job as a council agent.”

  “Councilman McMahon.” Her heel dug further into my neck as she greeted my dad. She didn’t appear fazed in the least for him to find her in this position.

  “I thought we agreed you’d call me Carrick,” he corrected. The affection in his voice was clear, setting off a warning growl deep in my throat as the unthinkable happened: I was actually jealous of my dad.

  “No, you told me I should call you Carrick,” she disagreed, “but I wasn’t sure the offer still stood while I was trying to decide whether one of your sons deserved to live or not.”

  “Considering what I just heard, I’m damn sure it’s appropriate for you to call me Carrick. Seeing as, if you decide to let him up, you’ll be my daughter-in-law soon.”

  Her startled gaze leapt up as she jerked in response to my dad’s words. I was pissed at how surprised she seemed at the idea of being his daughter-in-law since it was exactly what was going to happen—and soon. Taking advantage of her distraction, I swept her leg away from my neck and jumped to my feet, placing myself between her and my dad. Her attention moved from him back to me, just where I wanted it to be—except I didn’t like her response to his statement as she stared into my eyes.

  “Just because he says he’s my mate doesn’t make it so. And even if he is, we both know there isn’t anything we can do about it at this juncture. Not if we want to catch the guy you’re hunting.”

  Chapter 4

  Tahlia

  The flare of rage in Carrick’s son’s eyes and twitch in his jaw were the only visible reactions to the verbal gauntlet I’d thrown down. Carrick’s son. How ridiculous was it that he was my fated mate and I didn’t even know if he was Braden or Camden? He couldn’t be the eldest of the triplets, Alasdair—I knew he was already mated. At least I’d managed to narrow his name down to two options.

  “Fuck,” Carrick muttered under his breath. When he tried to step in between us, his son growled deep in his throat and I saw the flash in his eyes signaling his bear was close to the surface. “I know it’s the last thing you want to do, but you need to listen to your dad and settle down, son.”

  “St
ay back. She isn’t dressed.” He spat the words out like bullets.

  A quick glance down confirmed the girls were barely covered by my corset. It was something I probably should have considered earlier, but I’d been slightly preoccupied by the Neanderthal fate seemed to match me with tossing me over his shoulder like a sack of flour. It seemed to me fate was a fickle bitch with an awful sense of timing. “My clothes are in the dressing room.”

  My step to the right was blocked by a similar move on his part. I tried the other direction and he shifted over again. “As much as I’d like to continue this little dance with you, you need to let me by if you want me to get dressed.”

  “I don’t think so, honey,” he answered softly. “If I let you out of my sight, I have a feeling you’ll up and disappear on me. Not gonna happen.”

  “Honey?” I sputtered before the sight of him pulling his shirt over his head silenced me. I was busy counting the cut of his abs and had just reached six when he pulled it down over my head and then tugged my arms into the sleeves.

  “Oh shit,” Carrick mumbled, knowing damn well how I usually responded to terms of endearment from guys. He’d seen me react to similar turns of phrase in the past during missions. Oddly enough, my response was more out of habit than being pissed when this particular man had called me honey—which only served to rub me the wrong way.