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LENGTH: Novella
SENSUALITY: Carnal

Cover art (c) Amber Moon 2008
ISBN: 978-1-60394-141-9
Download: $3.50
(s&h not included in price)

For five years Renaud Brunet has worked for his uncle as a deputy in Xavier Parish, far away from the ballet world of New York, London, Moscow, Australia—all of it. He’s also avoided feminine entanglements, in spite of a very lusty female werewolf on his tail. All his good intentions go out the window, though, when he comes home to find a woman he can’t run from waiting on his porch. Unfortunately, she doesn’t seem to have any trouble avoiding him.

Rating: Carnal. Previously published.

PET PEEVE

By

J.J. Massa

© copyright by J.J. Massa

NCP Reissue, May 2008

Cover Art by Amber Moon, May 2008

ISBN 978-1-60394-141-9

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s

imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or

events is merely coincidence.

Prologue

Disgusted, twenty-six year old, Renaud Brunet looked at the woman clinging to his waist. “He promised me!” she whined and begged, looking from Renaud to Ziggy and back again. “He said I had to fuck him first or you wouldn’t!”

“Is this true, Zig?” Renaud barked, furious.

Ziggy had the grace to look ashamed. “Yeah, Fido, I did. I was drunk and—Hell, I was horny. I’m sorry, man.”

Renaud’s lip curled. He snarled bestially at his friend and turned to the begging woman. “Take your panties off and get up there on that table!” he spat. “Spread your legs wide.”

“You aren’t going to touch me, Mr. Brunet?” she wheedled.

“Hell no, I ain’t gonna touch you. You’re a stranger and a slut. I don’t touch sluts. I fuck ‘em. I’m gonna fuck you and you’re gonna leave. You got that?” he growled.

The woman nodded eagerly, removing her panties and laying back on the table Renaud had indicated. She spread her legs wide the way she was told to.

“Scoot to the edge, grab it, and brace your feet. I am not going to touch you,” Renaud instructed.

When the woman assumed the position that Renaud had ordered, he lowered his pants and released his engorged staff. Quickly, he rolled on the condom that Ziggy handed him. Positioning the head of his cock against her entrance, he moved it up and down to see if she was ready. She was.

Bracing his hands on either side of her legs, he plunged into her. She groaned loudly. “Keep it down!” Renaud barked.

Angrily, he plunged in and out of the unknown woman while he talked to his friend, Ziggy. “This is the last time, Zig, the very last. It’s time to go home, damn it!”

“Whaddaya mean, Fido?” Ziggy kept his eyes trained on the woman’s face. She was moaning and squealing in ecstasy.

“I’ve been here five years now and I’ve had enough. I’m ready to go home and work for my Oncle. I’ll dance there. You coming or not?” he gritted, pumping into the woman one last time in release. She’d passed out.

Ziggy nodded and handed Renaud a towel and some hand sanitizer. While his friend cleaned himself, Ziggy pulled the woman’s legs down and adjusted her skirt.

As Renaud turned to storm out of the practice studio, he caught sight of a teenage girl backing away. In two strides he had her by the arm. It was his sister’s protégé.

“I need to get out of here before this sweet little thing asks me for that!” he growled into her face, still talking to Ziggy.

The girl’s dark brown eyes filled with tears. He could barely hear her at first as she responded. The scent of her fear settled over him like a blanket.

“I have had a big crush on you for years, Mr. Brunet, that’s true.” She took a deep breath, obviously trying to calm herself so she could answer him. “But I could never be intimate with a man I don’t respect. I couldn’t respect a man who treats any woman like that and I wouldn’t want what you just did from anyone. Ever.”

Renaud took her by both shoulders and looked hard into her eyes. She smelled so beautiful. He couldn’t contain the groan that rumbled from his chest. He jerked her tightly against his body, fitting her soft curves to his hard, muscular frame. His mouth covered hers hungrily. Possessive and demanding, he restlessly tasted her lips as if he was searching for something.

He traced her lips with his tongue, sucking on the corners, nibbling on her lower lip, seeking entrance. Involuntarily, it seemed, she parted her lips, moaning softly as his tongue stroked into her mouth.

Keeping his movements slow and sensuous, his tongue surged forward to caress and explore the velvet recesses of her moist cavern. Once again, she moaned softly as his tongue raked against hers, entwined with it, stroked it caressingly.

“No!” he heard. Suddenly, the girl wrenched herself from him, stumbling backwards. “No!” She shook her head, still moving backward until she found the door. Flinging it open, she turned and ran.

“You’re gonna want me some day, Chére! I promise you that!” he called after her. “You’re gonna run back to me one day!”

Watching her run away, Renaud hoped desperately that she’d forget what she’d seen him do. He had to leave. He had to. In time, he would return and claim his mate.

Chapter One

Twenty-two year old, Cili Kozma, sat huddled in the bleachers of the ice skating rink steeping in her own misery. She didn’t hear her best friend and mentor come and sit beside her. When she felt Lorelei Allemande Martine’s arm go around her, Cili turned to her and burst into tears.

The two women were the same height at five feet and one inch, and had the same delicate build. Both were very attractive, but that’s where their physical similarities ended. Rory Martine had short, golden blonde hair with moss green eyes and pale features. She had a straight little nose and a generous mouth.

Cili had dark brown hair that swung past her shoulders, dark brown eyes, and a round, child-like face. Her eyes were wide and innocent, her nose was pert and perfect and she had a bow-shaped mouth with a full lower lip. Cili often wished she looked more like Rory.

“What’s the matter, Honey?” Rory asked her, soothingly.

“I’m tired of this life and these people, Rory.” In a lower voice, she said, “Roger Grainger wouldn’t take no for an answer last night. He hurt me.”

“You better tell me what happened, CeeCee,” demanded a deep Southern voice. Cili wondered how Rory’s husband always heard the bad stuff over the sound of the children squealing and everything else.

She’d been working with Rory for eight years now—whenever the thirty-one year old agreed to dance professionally. Cili had become close friends with the family and had a good relationship with their two children, nine-year-old Paul, and six-year-old Ivanna. Paul had been a baby when Lorelei came back to the ballet company. Cili had been in awe of her and in love with the baby. War had decided that the thirteen year old needed parents and had stepped into the role of father instantly.

“Don’t worry, DW, he didn’t get anywhere, he only hit me.” She fought to keep the tears at bay. She talked low so that he couldn’t hear how hoarse her voice was.

“Let me see!” War growled, confidant in his paternal authority.

Cili couldn’t disobey Warrick Martine–he was the father she’d never had. Just like Ivanna would have done, she reluctantly turned her head so that her swollen cheek was plainly visible. She didn’t realize that there were also clear, finger-shaped bruises on her throat. That became obvious to her when War began swearing in both English and Cajun.

War moved up beside her, taking her into his arms and patting her back soothingly. Rory sat on her other side and hugged her, as well. Soon, the entire Martine family was hugging her and reassuring her.

Finally, Rory shooed everyone away and took Cili by the hand. They both stepped onto the ice, skating and talking at the same time.

“Cili, I think I have a solution for you if you’re interested.” Rory looked at her intently. Cili waited. “Warrick and I have been considering having someone, like a nanny, stay with the kids in Louisiana this season while I tour.”

“Okay,” Cili said, carefully.

“If you’re interested, you’d be perfect because you’re family anyway.” Lorelei smiled and squeezed Cili’s shoulder. “You could open the ballet school again, if you want. Or go back to school or work on your designs .... ”

“Oh, Lorelei, that sounds so great! I would love that so much! Are you sure you’d really want to trust me with your children?” Cili was afraid to hope this could be real.

“Of course, silly. I’d feel so much better with you instead of a stranger. And, if you needed help, my brother will be there. Ren has a little apartment in the house and, of course, the kids love him. He’ll be working a lot so he shouldn’t be underfoot.”

“When can I start?” Cili asked with a grin.

“You can go whenever. In fact, go right away and get a head start. We’re going to take the kids and visit my uncle in Connecticut. After that, we’ll fly the kids home so they won’t miss any school, okay?”

“What about the ballet company?” she worried. Would she be able to get a leave of absence? Would they come after her?

“Don’t worry, Honey. Warrick and I will take care of it, okay?” Lorelei promised her.

Cili left for Louisiana that very evening.

* * * *

Damned if there wasn’t a half-naked woman poking around on his back porch even now, as he parked in his yard at the end of a long day of work. She didn’t even look up when he turned his truck off.

He didn’t need to use the exceptional sense of smell or hearing that all werewolves enjoyed to locate her. She was right there in the open, waiting for him and poking around on his property, barely dressed.

With the exception of Zierra, the female lupine who still haunted him, he hadn’t had to deal with various women trying to coerce him into sex with them for the last five years. It had been that long since he stopped dancing professionally.

Whenever Zierra did show up, he usually let Ziggy, his best friend and fellow officer, handle her in whatever way the other man saw fit. She hated Ziggy.

Right now, however, there was no one around aside from himself to deal with the nearly naked woman on his porch. That was a shame because he was very dangerous these days.

As he approached her, the wind plastered the tee shirt she wore against her curves and confirmed that she wore very little else. He thought he knew just how to make this little interloper sorry that she’d intruded upon his sanctuary.

Pulling his gun from its holster, he ordered in a low, I-mean-business voice, “Hold it right there.”

The young woman froze in place, bending over a box. Stepping in front of her, he snapped a handcuff on one wrist and, pulling her other arm in front of her, he handcuffed that wrist, as well.

“Sir? Oh!” Her eyes went big and round. “Mr. Brunet, Renaud Brunet? Um, I .... ” She seemed to be having some trouble forming thoughts. Good. She’d be better off if she didn’t speak and push him further over the edge of control.

“Quiet, Lady!” he barked, hauling her into the house. He flicked on the light switch but nothing happened. Swearing, he turned to his captive. “I guess we gonna have to do this in the dark, no?”

He hauled her up the stairs and into the kitchen. Once there, he turned her to face the back of a kitchen chair.

“Arms out in front! Hold on to that chair!” he ordered her. “Spread your legs! Wide!”

She did as she was told. He could smell her fear. There was something familiar about her scent, but he ignored it. The whipping wind made it hard to capture her scent anyway. He was fighting to keep his beast under control as it was.

“Mr. Brunet?” she croaked when his hand skimmed her abdomen. “Please, there’s been .... ”

“Hush!” he growled, feeling her shake under his hands as they moved up her ribs. “This is called a body search. It happens when you’re caught breaking and entering or trespassing.”

His hands traveled over her shoulder blades and back to her ribs, slowly moving up. When he cupped her breasts, she whimpered and tried to pull away. Closing his hands more firmly around the small globes, he moved his fingers until each nipple was caught between his index finger and his middle finger.

“Don’t … move,” he breathed into her ear. He pinched her nipples between his fingers. She whimpered again.

His hands released her now-hard nipples and skimmed down to the waist of her barely-there lace panties. He rested his hands on her hips, pressing behind her, knowing she could feel his hard erection. Usually, he just wanted to get rid of the women. He hadn’t even gotten hard for a woman in five years. This one was dangerously close to meeting the predator that lived inside of him.

He moved to squat beside her, reaching up to turn her head so that she could see his eyes in the moonlit room. With his index finger, he traced her panties from the wide part over her mons and then down between her legs. She was quaking and still dry there until he moved his finger under the strip of elastic and began examining her folds with his long fingers.

With his other hand, he parted her nether cheeks and teased her little rosette with one finger.

“Please,” she whispered. He could feel her moisture gather.

“Please, what, petit?” he ground out in a hoarse voice.

“Please stop, please.” A tear dripped down her cheek.

Slowly, Renaud removed his finger from between her legs. He had to fight himself not to put it into his mouth. He pulled his other hand from behind her.

“Who are you?” he demanded. He never touched the women. None of them, he’d never wanted to touch them—only one, five years ago.

Before she could answer, the phone rang. He stalked from the room and she sank to the floor.

Cili was trying hard not to cry. What was Renaud Brunet doing here and in a sheriff’s uniform no less? DW—War—was the Sheriff here—but War was in Connecticut, wasn’t he?

Why had Renaud done that to her? Why had he touched her that way? She was so confused. Even more so when Renaud stalked back into the room, tugged her to her feet, unlocked the handcuffs and handed her a cordless phone. She saw he still held one and he pushed the talk button for her.

“Here she is,” he said. Renaud walked off and returned with a burning candle that he placed on the kitchen table.

“H-hello?” Cili asked, still fighting the urge to cry.

“Cili? I guess you got there okay. How are you, honey?” Rory asked.

“Rory,” she choked in her husky voice. “I got here fine. How are you guys?”

War was having none of that. “CeeCee, what’s wrong? Did that bastard hit you again?” he demanded. “I’ll beat the shit out of him if he did. May do it anyway.”

“Nothing’s wrong, honest, DW,” she croaked. She always felt like she should append the word ‘Daddy’ on the end when he quizzed her this way. DW was their euphemism for that.

“Baby girl, something is wrong and I want the truth right now!” he barked.

She saw Renaud’s eyebrow shoot up quizzically. She looked away. She couldn’t deal with War’s ‘angry Daddy’ routine and Renaud’s .... Well, she just couldn’t deal with Renaud Brunet, period.

“It’s just, I’m so tired and sore and then the power went out, and I couldn’t find a flashlight and then Renaud came up and I didn’t know he was—and I wasn’t .... ” She took a deep breath, fighting to hold on. War made her feel like there was a safe place she could go. She knew that was just an illusion, but she loved him for it.

“All right, CeeCee, all right. Calm down, sugar.” War’s deep baritone soothed her. “How’s your face, sugar? How’s your throat? You still sound hoarse, don’t she, Chére?”

“Cili, promise you’ll see a doctor tomorrow, okay? My brother can take you, can’t you Renaud?”

“It will be my very great pleasure, Boo. I’ll even make the appointment, yeah?” Renaud’s face looked distinctly evil to her in the dim room.

“Thank you, Ren. Please look after Cili. She’s very special to us,” Rory said.

“Oh, Rory, please, you know I can look after myself, really.” How embarrassing!

She turned around in her chair so that she was facing away from Renaud, who was lounging against the doorjamb. Even if he hadn’t touched her so intimately, she’d be nervous. Right now she felt like prey.

“CeeCee, you have been a member of our family for the last nine years and family takes care of each other. You let my nephew help you out while you’re helping Lorelei and me out with the kids.” When she didn’t answer, he said in a warning tone, “CeeCee?”

“Okay, DW,” she answered, trying to lighten the mood.

Giggling, Lorelei asked her, “Hey, I bet you already knew Renaud from the ballet company, didn’t you?”

She heard Renaud straighten up against the doorjamb. “Not really, Rory. Remember, I was just seventeen when he retired. Our paths didn’t really cross much.”

Without a doubt, Rory had just reminded Renaud of his last meeting with Cili. She wasn’t sure she wanted him to remember.

“So you never talked to him at all, Cili?” Rory sounded surprised. “You were both in the same ballet company for five years and never spoke?”

“We did speak once, but we didn’t really travel in the same circles. You know how it is. I was a lot younger, too, remember.”

“It’s probably for the best, sugar. Renaud was a bad, bad seed, weren’t you, son?” War laughed at him.

“The absolute baddest, Oncle. No man would want his little girl keeping time with the likes of me.” She could practically feel Renaud’s eyes on her.

“Well, I’m counting on you to look out after our little CeeCee, son. Make sure she puts some ice on that cheek and make sure her throat isn’t swollen. You’d better have some hot tea, Sugar, and some aspirin .... ” He would have gone on if both Cili and Lorelei hadn’t cut him off.

“DW!” Cili moaned—it sounded like “deee double-youuuuu!”

“Warrick! Give the poor girl a break or she’ll be running back to New York just to breathe. You’re not going to do this to Ivanna, too, are you?”

She finally got them off the phone with War grumbling about trying to look after his children and Lorelei promising to call when she had flight arrangements organized. Sighing deeply, Cili sank her head into her arms, wondering if she’d be able to get past Renaud unseen.