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Carnal Knowledge
( Carnal Desires - 2 )
Celeste Anwar
Kaeli never knew following the whims of desire could be so fun ... nor so dangerous. And sexy Cajun Navarre Lyssandro is exactly what this girl needs. Too bad he's nuts....
Tempting, sassy ... and human, Kaeli Jackson is a woman who can take care of herself, and she arouses feelings in Navarre he cannot ignore, despite his best efforts. But the vamps are stirring after the disappearance of their leader, riled by the Lycan presence. Navarre cannot allow her close, because to touch Kaeli is to mark her for death...
Rating: Contains graphic, explicit sex and violence, profanity, and harsh language.
CARNAL KNOWLEDGE
Celeste Anwar
CHAPTER ONE
“Hold it, bitch.”
Kaeli Jackson stopped instantly at the mouth of the dark, narrow alley, a chill creeping up her spine at the mugger’s high, nasal voice. The door to Inferno was only thirty odd feet away, but she’d never make the run in her heels. She hadn’t gotten decked out in a year, and she’d break something if she tried it. The bass from the music pounded outside--there was no chance they’d hear her scream or anything else. She was on her own.
The mugger moved up behind her. “Damn you’re phat, bitch.” ‘PH’ phat he meant by the tone of his voice--he damn well wasn’t commenting on the size of her ass. She didn’t want to tell him phat went out a year ago. He pinched an ass cheek and she gritted her teeth, biding her time, hands clenching.
He snickered and released her. “Gimme your purse.” He wrenched at it on her shoulder and she slipped it off, dropping it on the sidewalk from his grasp.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” she babbled like a helpless female, glancing down and watching him stoop to grab the purse. His hand snaked out, and she lifted her foot to grind her heel into the back of his hand--the meaty part near the thumb. Blood welled instantly. His high pitched scream rattled her eardrums. She twisted, grinding him into the rough pavement, knocking him back on his ass with a shin kick she’d learned in KardioKick.
He sat back, clutching his hand to his chest, crimson rivulets streaming down his arm. Kaeli got her first look at her would-be attacker.
A damn punk ass kid. Why were they always kids? Quick perusal of the pavement confirmed he didn’t even have a weapon--stupid damn kid. Hell, even she packed in these neighborhoods, not that it had done her any good.
“What the hell are you doin’ robbin’ people when you ain’t even got your pubes yet, brat?”
He glared at her. “For the hell of it, bitch.”
Kaeli crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes. Should have known it by looking at his gear--baggy britches and tight, long sleeved shirt, a chain on his waist. He had skater extremist written all over him.
Just like a damn extremist--it was getting to where they’d do just about anything for a rush. “Fair enough.”
She bent and snatched his wallet off the chain. He didn’t try to stop her--still nursing his wound. He’d live, that was sure.
“You can’t rob me! That’s not fair,” he said in a whiny voice.
A sure sign of immaturity. “Insurance, brat. Now get out of here.
You’re damn lucky you wasn’t brandishing or I’d sic the cops on your ass right now.”
He continued glaring but scrambled to his feet and backed away until it was safe to run.
As he disappeared around the block, Kaeli sighed, wondering if it had been a wise move. She knew he was priming for prison, but she’d put enough fear in him maybe he wouldn’t do anything else tonight. She’d make a call to the cops once she got inside and turn his wallet in--not that the cops would do anything more than spoil an already marvelous night.
As it was, she wouldn’t be surprised if he was taken in and sued her for hurting him in the mugging--it was the American way, after all.
Kaeli had just turned back toward the club when clapping came from near the dark alley’s entrance. She halted and tensed, expecting renewed attack. Maybe she had gone crazy....
“That was an entertaining show, petite,” a deep, rumbling voice spoke from the shadows. Gooseflesh raced over her skin just listening to it.
“Who the hell are you?” She couldn’t help being defensive. She’d just been attacked, after all. She put the kid’s wallet into her purse, slipping her hand on the butt of her gun.
“You don’ need a pea shooter for me.”
She startled inside, tightened her hand on the butt. How the hell did he know that? Lucky guess was all. Had to be.
He chuckled and moved into the light. Kaeli’s breath hitched, and if she hadn’t been frozen in place, she’d surely have melted at the smoky look the stranger passed over her. Thought became chaotic, sluggish as she did a once over and went back for more.
Blond. Golden. Adonis. He looked like some bad ass metal band member--a lead bass guitarist. Long, wavy hair trailed down to his chest, muscles but not breadth hidden beneath a tight black T-shirt that tormented her. He had classical features: squared jaw, dimpled chin, straight nose, and smiling, full lips--but the combination tantalized when Grecian statues left her cold as the marble used to carve them. The man oozed bad boy like people expelled carbon dioxide--and he was definitely just as dangerous in too great a quantity.
Tribal tattoos twirled about his muscled arms, and painted on leather pants completed his ensemble. She tried to look away, but her eyes stayed rooted to his groin. Couldn’t go any farther than that bulge, thumbs ... thumbs hooked in his pockets, framing his groin like a picture. It was one of those subtle moves all guys did but few could pull off because they didn’t have the package. This one definitely had it goin’ on.
He sauntered toward her, that cocky stride that couldn’t help but garner any straight woman’s attention. “Navarre Lyssandro.”
Kaeli gaped at him. “Huh?” Once she’d seen him, her mind had blanked beyond the need to procreate--fast. NOW.
Someone that damn sexy was nothing but trouble.
Navarre chuckled, standing just inside her comfort zone, crowding her until she took a step back. He leaned against the lip of the alley, leisurely running his gaze down her body. She shivered, the tips of her breasts tingling with imagined contact.
“You asked who I was, I tell you. Navarre Lyssandro.”
He had an accent. Damn his hide, he had an accent! French and Southern rolled into one tantalizing package that had her near salivating.
She shouldn’t lust after a stranger like this--it was completely foreign to her.
Kaeli glared at him, unwilling to concede defeat to a damn Cajun. “What are you doing here?”
“Meetin’ a friend, chere. You goin’ tell me your name, pretty lady?”
Never in her life had anyone accused her of being a lady. “Kaeli Jackson.”
“Kaeli,” he said, savoring her name like choice wine. It sounded so much better on those lips.
She swallowed and offered her hand like an automaton. He shook it, his hand warm, callused ... lingering. She withdrew quickly, palm itching to know more of him than that brief contact allowed. She never drank, but tonight she needed something cold and hard to quench her libido.
Anger was good. It kept her head vaguely clear of confusing thoughts when she concentrated on being outraged. “Why the hell didn’t you help me when that kid attacked? Or call someone?”
He cocked one dark, golden brow. “I walked up after you’d already taken him down, petite. After that, I jus’ enjoyed the show.”
“Excuses, excuses.” Kaeli grunted. “Wouldn’t want to hurt that purty hide of yours, eh?” And it was a purty one, but not girlish in any way.
She couldn’t stop look
ing at him. Trouble. Keep telling yourself that.
Trouble.
“I couldn’t chance you gettin’ hurt if I came up and distracted you.”
“Very heroic of you.” She was being an asshole but couldn’t help herself. Hell, the guy said he hadn’t been there from the start. She was always like this around hunks. No damn wonder she hadn’t been laid in forty forevers. Prickly bitches just didn’t seem to hold much appeal for men for some unfathomable reason. It spoiled her mood just thinking about it.
“Not all women want to be rescued, petite. Besides, I didn’ know but what you weren’t some militant feminist. I don’ like bein’ chewed on,” he paused, grinning, then continued, “not like that....”
She couldn’t help smiling at his innuendo. She definitely had a craving for big meat right now. And she couldn’t blame his reasoning for holding back when he’d come. Where she was from, men had been blasted for one thing or another until they’d lost all shred of their manhood. They’d been bitched at so much you couldn’t even expect to have a guy come up to you anymore and ask for a dance or buy you a drink. It was hell being a woman these days.
“You forgive me, petite? I’ll be your shinin’ knight next time you’re attacked.”
“Sure.” She shrugged. She could take care of herself--she was used to it.
As snippety as she’d been, he still offered to see her into the club.
Once they passed through the blackened glass doors at the entrance and the music blasted their eardrums, he left her to go to his friend.
It was a shame really. She’d always liked those charming bad boys.
He was almost enough to make her forget how the night started. After going to the bar and phoning in a tip and leaving the kid’s wallet, she ordered a white russian and set out to find her friends. She spotted them almost immediately, getting off the dance floor.
Shawnda and Mina waved, and she followed them back to their table.
It was a little quieter in the corner away from the dance floor. Only minimal yelling was needed to communicate.
“Girl, what took you so long?” Shawnda asked after hugging Kaeli and sitting down.
“Ya, I’d done give up on you coming. Called the hotel five times and got no answer,” Mina said, settling into her chair.
“Sorry. I got mugged just outside the club.” Kaeli took a sip of her drink and grimaced at the alcohol stealing her breath.
“Omigod!” they screamed in unison and passed hugs all around.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
Kaeli smiled at them. “I’m all right. Just some damn kid looking for kicks. That ain’t the half of it though. Some guy came up right after.”
Mina perked up, instantly recognizing Kaeli’s interest. “Oh?”
“Spill it, Kaeli. Was he hot?”
“Take a look for yourself, Shawnda. He’s right over there.” Kaeli hooked a thumb over her shoulder toward the opposite corner of the bar where she’d seen him sit down.
They both stood and gaped. “Jesus! Kaeli, which one is it? They’re both gorgeous,” Shawnda said.
“The blond one. His name’s Navarre.”
“On a first name basis now?” Mina asked as she sat. “Why didn’t you jump him when you had the chance? We came here tonight for dick, and girl, you need it worst of all.”
Kaeli nodded. They’d all been single so long, she was sure she was growing cobwebs.
“I’d eat him up. You don’t pass up a good thing like that when it comes along.” Shawnda finished off her fuzzy navel and leaned back in her chair, narrowing her dark eyes at Kaeli in mock severity.
Kaeli shrugged. “He’s not my type.” At their guffaws, she grinned.
“All right. Lies, all lies. I want him so bad I can practically taste it.”
Glancing over her shoulder through the smoky interior, she saw him stand up and walk toward the exit.
“Damn. He’s leaving.”
“Well, go after him,” Shawnda prodded.
Torn, Kaeli sat there. She talked big, but when it came down to doing the deed with a virtual stranger--no matter how hot--she was all talk and no action.
Shawnda and Mina both stood and grabbed her arms, hauling her up.
“Get the lead out of your ass and go after him before he gets away,” Mina said.
They were right. You only live once. “Just bitch slap me for the coward I am if I come home early tonight.” She pulled free. “You sure y’all will be all right?”
“Hell, we were having a great time until that guy bit Mina.”
“Huh?” What the hell kind of city was this? Muggings, guys biting girls in clubs--wait, that sounded like home. Mental forehead smack.
“On the dance floor. We were grinding and then he just up and bit me. I smacked him good. You know I don’t allow that without dinner first.” Mina grinned. “Now, quit stalling and go.”
Kaeli nodded and hugged her friends, then headed to the front entrance. She knew he’d come through the alley. There was a good chance he’d leave that way too. Liquid courage surging through her veins and ears ringing, she walked as fast as she dared. It was as she neared the corner of the building that the sounds of a fight finally registered in her brain.
Someone was getting the shit kicked out of them. She rounded the edge and froze, heart suddenly pounding. “Jesus H. Christ!”
CHAPTER TWO
Navarre thought Raoul was a fool for risking his heart and his life for a human mate, be they ever so tempting. A fling perhaps, but he would not chain himself to a woman who could never be his equal. As arrogant as that made him sound, he couldn’t help the thought. They were too fragile. And to risk war for a woman not their kind was suicide ... and worse. Not that the shaky truce between vamps and Lycans held when pressed. Each stayed on their own ground. Crossing over almost always meant a fight once the vamps had risen from their slumber.
He’d risked attack coming here to talk his friend out of this foolishness, but Raoul would not be swayed. He’d chosen the course of his life and Navarre could not stop him.
Of course, he would not have met the brazen Kaeli had he not come....
Navarre put the tempting vixen out of his mind. He could not chance embroiling more humans in their affairs--it always ended in their death.
To think of her caramel skin bleached and lifeless, the sassy glint of her hazel eyes snuffed, fouled his mood.
Navarre took a deep, cleansing breath as he exited the club. His ears rang with residual beat, and he shook his head as though that would clear it.
The stench of sweat, smoke, and liquor clung to his nostrils, near overpowering him but lessening in potency as he walked past the club’s facade. Rounding the block, he strode into the alley, ears perked for danger.
He’d parked his car on the other end of the building as a precaution from thieves and alerting vamps of his presence. Not that it mattered this early.
He slowed his steps as a hush settled. The wind whistling through the confines halted in anticipation, as though sucked into greedy lungs.
He wasn’t alone.
Navarre crouched, muscles tensing, scanning the edges of the roof for attack. The trace scent of blood drifted to him--a scent of vampire--
permeating the air just as the vampires struck.
A dark shape whipped past him, seemingly from nowhere, though he knew it a trick of the mind-- flashing. Navarre extended his claws in an instant, slashing as it rammed his side just as a second slammed into him from behind.
Navarre whirled with the hit, striking flesh, felt the stinging rain of blood shower upon him--his own and that stolen from an innocent victim.
The vamps stopped in the alley, and his gaze shifted back and forth, keeping them in sight, his muscles fluid, ready to attack, yet he waited to see what they would do next. Long had it been since he’d killed a vamp, and he would not do so now if he could help it. If they continued their attack, however....
“It’s hardly fair two of you at
tackin’, mon ennemi,” he said, leveling his stare on the dark one but continually glancing at the heavy blond.
The dark haired one glared at Navarre, hissing as he clutched his side, stemming the flow of blood. “You don’t belong here,” he spat out. He examined the shredded jacket and slowly closing wound on his side. “I just finished feeding. You’ll pay for the meal you stole.”
Navarre grinned, lengthening his claws to daggers. “Gladly.”
They rushed him as one, right and left. Navarre spun from the slash of their nails and teeth. He couldn’t allow them to bite and inject their venom. Running along the alley, one vamp breathing down his neck, he ran at one of the walls and jumped, hitting high and bounding off it. Chunks of brick shattered under the grip of his hands and the strike of his feet, scattering like pebbles. He slammed into the thick middle of the blond vampire just as he launched at Navarre.
Navarre straightened his arms like swords, tearing into the vamp’s soft belly. Hot blood gushed over his arms, showering the pavement in a widening slick. The blond screamed and hit the pavement with a meaty thud, slipping in his meal as he struggled to hold his belly together.
Navarre shook the tainted blood from his hands, landing on his feet, staggering as his boot heels struck scattered brick, rolling beneath him.
The lead vamp grabbed him from behind as he recovered his balance.
Navarre twisted in the vamp’s grip, baring his neck as he punched his right hand back across his chest, driving into the vamp’s side, reaching for the heart. The grip tightened. He heard the pop of his shoulder as it slipped out of the socket. Navarre continued driving his claws into the dark haired vamp, faster and faster, but his hold didn’t loosen. He growled in wolfen fury, barely noticing the pain as the fangs sank in and savaged his throat and shoulder, shredding his skin.
The vampire’s poison flooded his veins, paralyzing him. His arms dropped as the paralytic drug consumed him. The blood pulled from his body, sucked away like the remains of a thick shake. Sluggishly, his wolfen powers worked to heal him, but he could do nothing so long as the vampire fed off him.