Kurik froze and then smiled. The dangerous glint of his eyes thrilled her. “I like the way you say that. You’ll get more, but first, give Rashon a proper good-morning kiss.”
Rashon spun her bar stool until she faced him. He stepped between her thighs to kiss her, and gods, it was even better than the first. Her arms wrapped about his shoulders as she gave a hum of appreciation. Dimly she was aware of Kurik pulling her gun holster off her belt, placing it on the counter. Rashon pulled her off the stool. She pressed against him with a little moan, needing to feel his lithe body against hers.
Kurik moved behind her, reaching past Amarie to grip Rashon’s waistband and pull him even closer. They sandwiched her in, and Rashon deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue past her lips. Kurik’s big hands cupped her breasts, unerringly finding her nipples through two layers of clothing, his fingertips tracing the sensitive peaks. Once again she was swept up, caught between thunder and lightning as the men tantalized her with hands and mouths. She circled her hips, pressing forward to feel Rashon’s hardness, then back against Kurik. Inwardly, she cursed the need for clothing in human form.
After long moments, they broke apart, gasping for air. Amarie’s entire body thrummed with want. It curled within her, tightening her nipples, dampening her panties. Desire that she’d thought she’d tamped down flared again, demanding satisfaction.
“What is this?” she whispered, wondering if they could hear the need in her voice.
“The start of something good,” Rashon whispered against her cheek.
“Really good,” Kurik added, nipping her shoulder.
Finally. They pressed against her, and she leaned into them, wanting to taste, to touch, to share twice over. The trill of a cell phone sliced through the anticipation like sleet.
“Crap,” Kurik growled as he unclipped his phone. He stepped back, answered. “Good morning, sir.”
Only one jackal in the clan was called sir. Markus. Amarie watched as Kurik transformed into the soldier he was. “Yes, sir. He awakened this morning. Yes, she’s here, too. We’d like to thank you and the priestess for saving him. Of course, sir. We’ll be there.”
Kurik disconnected. “We have a guard meeting in thirty. Markus said we can meet with the priestess after.”
“I guess that means no celebration breakfast.” Amarie tried not to pout, but she had more than food on her mind. Rashon and Kurik were finally offering what she’d been wanting, and she didn’t want them to have second thoughts. She wanted the good stuff, and she wanted it now.
“We’ve got time for eggs and toast. Our celebration will have to be postponed, not canceled.”
“Dinner then,” Rashon decided. “That way we can take our time. We’ve got a lot to celebrate, and I want to enjoy every moment of it.”
CHAPTER THREE
They made their way to the clubhouse on foot. It was a beautiful sunny day, and several of the clan’s children took advantage, biking and skating along the sidewalk under the watchful eye of several females sitting on a porch a couple of doors down. Markus’s clan had an entire planned community to themselves, a collection of single-family homes and duplexes surrounded by thick woodland that disguised the abundance of high-tech and magical security that protected it. It was so far removed from the rundown small town in the middle of nowhere her former clan called home that Amarie still had difficulty accepting the blessing of her changed circumstances.
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