Cats Got Your Tongue (Shifter Squad Six) Read online

  CATS GOT YOUR TONGUE

  SHIFTER SQUAD SIX

  BY

  ANYA NOWLAN

  A LITTLE TASTE…

  “What do you want, Kelis? Tell us,” Grant said, his tone saccharine-sweet, but his eyes anything but.

  “I…um…” she stuttered. Grim was behind her, his body so close they were almost touching, but not quite.

  Though the cougars had her caught between them, they wouldn’t do anything to her unless she expressly said she wanted them to. And oh how she wanted them to!

  “Say it,” Grim growled, his sexy voice making her almost mewl, desperate to push herself against him and Grant, to have both of them right now!

  “I want both of you,” she said, and it came out a little breathless, a little wanting.

  But that was how she felt, and she wasn’t going to back down from it now. Kelis could almost feel the grin that formed on Grim’s lips, same as it did on Grant’s, and her first sensation was Grim’s hot lips grazing along the length of her neck, his fingers pushing aside her long blonde locks. She dipped her head back and to the side, groaning as his touch set her on fire.

  Grant’s hands slipped down her sides and stopped on her hips, his thumbs pressing against her soft stomach and making her arch her body in his direction. He dipped forward and when his lips met hers, Kelis thought she would truly lose her mind. The kiss was magnificent, deep and warm, calming and at the same time stoking that blaze that they’d set inside of her.

  He parted from her lips far too fast, leaving her desperate for more, but Grim was there right away, pulling her face to his by capturing her chin between his fingers and turning her to face him. He kissed her too, and that kiss was completely different, passionate, hungry, raw. Their lips gnashed together, his teeth nipping at her lower lip, and she felt a cold lightning strike go through her, joining the much warmer one that Grant’s kiss had given her.

  Copyright © 2016 Anya Nowlan

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cats Got Your Tongue

  Shifter Squad Six

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this work may be used, reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means by anyone but the purchaser for their own personal use. This book may not be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of Anya Nowlan. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.

  Cover © Jack of Covers

  You can find all of my books here:

  Amazon Author Page

  www.anyanowlan.com

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  A LITTLE TASTE…

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  EPILOGUE

  CATS’ GOT YOUR TONGUE EXCERPT

  WANT MORE?

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  Kelis

  Kelis was worn out to say the least. The holidays had been long and tiring and her family was jovial as usual, with “overbearing” being the better word to perhaps describe them. And lining up in the bustling Boston airport after New Year’s Eve was not something that was particularly enjoyable either.

  She pinched the bridge of her nose slightly, rubbing the delicate skin as the announcement came over the intercom, announcing that her flight to San Francisco would be boarding soon.

  Thank God. I can’t wait to get back in my own bed, she thought mildly, stretching her legs out a little.

  She got up, figuring that it would be smarter to get in line early and get into her seat with the hopes of passing out before the flight even took off the runway. She knew exactly what was waiting for her back in San Francisco. One day of rest and then back with her squad, fire drills and special operations training for the next mission. The fun life of a US Marine chopper pilot. But it was a life she had chosen for herself and as such, the physical weariness was simply something to lament, not to actually feel bad about.

  Kelis Murdoch was on the taller side, five feet eight inches, with a curvy, toned body fit for an active-duty Marine, but still carrying some weight to her. It wouldn’t have worked for most other roles in her unit, but being a pilot, she got some leeway and frankly, after years of keeping herself in peak physical condition, she was a bit worn out by it all. Enough to have a few extra slices of cake during the holidays, at least.

  It’s all Mom’s fault. She cooks so damn well, Kelis thought with a grin, grabbing her heavy duffel and shuffling to the area that marked the start of the line.

  A bored, sleepy-eyed looking woman stood there, looking through tickets as she waved people on board. Kelis could already see the big Boeing 747 that was going to take her home and she sighed with a modicum of relief. She loved her family dearly, but being from a big Irish clan—as her father called it—could get mighty tiring if she was stuck with them for nearly two weeks, constantly celebrating something or another.

  In fact, she could still feel the makings of a hangover from two days ago, which was a particular feat in her mind. Only Irishmen in Boston could keep a party going that well!

  Kelis handed her ticket to the woman with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but she figured the girl wouldn’t mind either way. If there was one thing worse than trying to get on a plane after the holidays, then it had to be working at an airport during the very same time.

  The stewardess swiped her ticket through the automated reader and was handing it back to Kelis when she froze for a moment, scowling at the screen in front of her.

  “Something wrong?” Kelis asked, feeling dread pool in the pit of her stomach.

  Please let me get home, please let me get home…

  “Just a minute, ma’am,” the blonde stewardess spoke, not looking up from her screen.

  She tapped a few buttons and then swiped the ticket again, after which she pursed her lips. Spinning the screen to face Kelis, the woman clicked her long nails next to a line on the screen that read: Passenger upgraded to flight AR-459, ticket void.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, it looks like you have been transferred to another gate. It is leaving in ten minutes at gate 34F. You better hurry!”

  “But I don’t understand! What’s going on?” Kelis said, confusion muddling her features. “I was supposed to be on this one, heading to San Francisco. I didn’t request a change.”

  “I understand your worry, ma’am,” she said patiently, taking on that mask of a person who deals with difficult passengers on a daily basis and has developed certain tactics to cut the interactions down to a bare minimum. “And the system doesn’t tell me why the change has been made, simply that it has. But I assure you that the flight you’ve been assigned to is also heading for San Francisco and will in fact make it there t
wenty minutes faster. You can still catch it. I will telephone the gate for you.”

  The stewardess was pointing down the long hall of gates and as Kelis looked up, she realized she was in terminal D.

  “Shit,” she muttered, forgetting all about her good manners.

  She secured her hold on the bag tighter and with one more querying look to the stewardess, set off in a dead run, weaving between other tired travelers as she ran toward the other terminal and gate.

  If this is some kind of mistake, I’m going to be so pissed, she thought in fury, knowing full well that she would simply nod and agree and make do with whatever was given to her.

  She wasn’t confrontational by nature, not really. Perhaps it had been one of the reasons why she’d decided to join the military to begin with. She liked structure, had always done so, and found that her aspirations were best fostered in an environment that both pushed her to always be better, as well as gave her a set of rules to follow to achieve it.

  But over the years, she’d gotten tougher. Missions all over the world did that to a woman, and though she was not particularly old yet—not even thirty—she thought she’d lived a full life already. It came with the territory, though. A Marine had to know how to grab life by the horns, because every mission could be their last. That was something that had been beaten into her pretty damn fast.

  All of that, of course, was entirely unimportant when she found herself sprinting down long hallways in hopes of making a flight she wasn’t supposed to be on! When she finally made it to terminal F and down to the gates starting with 3, she was feeling slightly winded and grouchier than ever. She was tired and sore and a tiny bit hung over and all she had wanted was to get a nice glass of wine and conk out while the in-flight movie blared through her headphones.

  The clock showed that there was three minutes until the assumed departure time of the flight when she stumbled into 34F, where a smiling stewardess was there to meet her. Her pretty blue eyes seemed to shine with worry and she took Kelis’s ticket wordlessly, her brows furrowing slightly in commiseration.

  “We had the captain wait for you, ma’am. I am so sorry for the confusion. Please, come with me,” she spoke softly, leading Kelis down through the long walkway and into the plane.

  “I still don’t know if I should be here,” Kelis said, straightening her back and brushing blonde locks of now-sweaty hair out of her face. “I was supposed to be on the other flight,” she tried to explain, but again it was met with general disinterest.

  When Kelis stepped into the plane, she forgot all about her objections though. It too was a Boeing 747 but instead of being packed to the rafters with grouchy, bloated, and annoyed holiday travelers, this one seemed to only have big, strong, beefy men sitting around and chatting. The plane was maybe at half capacity.

  “What the—” Kelis murmured, feeling some eyes on her as she stood at the head of first class, her duffel still slung over her shoulder.

  “Quite a sight, huh? This is a charter flight for two NCAA Division II teams. I’d never heard of them but I don’t mind being stuck on a plane with them for a while,” the stewardess said in a conspiring way, leaning over Kelis’s shoulder slightly to whisper in her ear.

  Kelis glanced at the woman, who gave her an encouraging nod, and with her head full of questions, she trudged forward. The guys were hot as hell, there was no mistaking that. There wasn’t a single man on the airplane shorter than Kelis, something that was a bit of a rarity, and none of them sat next to one another, probably on account of their wide shoulders and long legs. Muscular, well-built, and looking like they were made for a life of being shamelessly fantasized about, Kelis could feel her core throbbing treacherously.

  Stop it. You’re used to being around scores of mouthwatering hunks, so get over it. These guys probably can’t even defend themselves in a fight, all muscle and no strength, she thought, trying her best to get her mind off of the hunks that were giving her long, appreciative looks.

  She was an attractive woman, this much she knew. Long blonde hair, grayish-blue eyes, good complexion with a bit of a tan from spending so long in Afghanistan last year, she was a catch. But she was also a US Marine and she could kill a man in twelve ways without even needing a weapon, and that really cut down a woman’s dating pool.

  Couple that with being smarter than the average jock, emphasized by the fact that she was a pilot and not a regular grunt, and most men in the service found themselves gravitating toward brainless bimbos that chased them down at the bars around Navy and Army bases.

  Not that Kelis minded. She wasn’t the kind of woman to enjoy a meaningless fling. One day, she’d have a big family just like the one she’d come from, but until then? She was perfectly satisfied with not jumping from one relationship to another. Besides, it took a special kind of guy to be strong enough to stand by her side while allowing her to lean on him, a man of the right kind of character to make her want to have kids with him. Having children was not a decision to be made lightly.

  “Wait, what seat should I take?” Kelis asked before getting too far in the aisle.

  “Whichever one you prefer. You’re the last passenger,” the stewardess said with a smile, sealing the exit.

  “Okay then,” Kelis muttered, her boots scuffing the carpet as she walked onward.

  She ignored the few hushed catcalls she got, though she couldn’t help but smirk at them. Jocks, always the same. It didn’t help that when she looked around on the airplane, it became very obvious that she and the lone stewardess were the only women on board, stuck in a small space with a bunch of pumped-up, athletic men. It was the most bizarre flight she’d ever happened upon.

  Kelis shoved her duffel into an overhead bin when she came to a row of seats that seemed mostly empty, there being no one ahead or behind her, and just two guys to either side. Finally sitting down, she let out a heavy sigh, her muscles practically melting into the seat. The exhale turned into a bit of a groan as she closed her eyes, thankful that she was on the airplane now and that the only thing she had to do next was get up when they got to San Francisco.

  I’m going to sleep forever.

  “Miss, I think you need to put your seatbelt on,” a deep, almost growly voice called suddenly, when Kelis was just about to pass out in well-deserved sleep.

  She stirred as a hand touched her, sending a bolt of something hot and heady rolling through her like she was struck by lightning. Kelis snapped up, sitting up straight, her eyes wild.

  “Jesus! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the guy said, his dirty-blond hair worn slicked to one side, blue eyes laughing.

  “Grim, are you scaring the locals again?” another voice said, on the other side of her.

  Sleep still in her eyes, Kelis whipped her head in the direction of the noise and was met with the almost the mirror image of the playful devil who’d woken her up. He was equally as blue-eyed, though his expression was a smidge sterner, despite the amused smirk he was wearing on his lips. He was sitting across the aisle from her, looking up from the book he’d been reading. Their eyes met for far too long without Kelis really being able to say anything as she felt herself sinking into those ocean-blue eyes.

  What the hell is wrong with you, Kelis!

  “Grim’s right, though. You need to put on your seatbelt. We’re taking off,” he said mildly.

  “What?” she asked, in a bit of a haze, not entirely sure if she was having the most convoluted daydream—complete with incredibly hot men—or if she was losing her mind because she was babbling like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

  “Your seatbelt,” Grim noted, holding up the end with the buckle. “It goes around your waist so you wouldn’t bounce around the plane while it hits turbulence. Basic safety and all that.”

  There was laughter in his voice, not mockery, but honest amusement as Kelis snatched the belt from him gingerly and clipped it over her thick thighs and soft stomach.

  “Satisfied?” she asked, glancing at both o
f them, feeling a blush rising to her cheeks, with Grim sitting one seat left of her and the other man’s eyes still on her as well.

  “Well, I don’t know. Grant, are we?”

  “Not really, but it’ll have to do,” Grant said, tossing Kelis a wink.

  She groaned inwardly.

  Good going. You’ve made a fool of yourself and the plane hasn’t even made it off the tarmac. This is going to be one long flight!

  CHAPTER TWO

  Grant

  Grant shook his head slightly, liking the way the young woman across from him was blushing at his and Grim’s teasing. The intercom was buzzing with endless chatter about flight safety, the kind of stuff he had heard so many times that it barely made him prick up an ear. You’ve been on one commercial flight, you’ve been on all of them, right?

  But this, of course, was no commercial flight.

  Grant could spy the top of Connor’s head about ten rows in front of him, sitting by the aisle as well. Tex was to the left and forward, and he knew Thatch and Dutch were further back while he and Grim were pretty much smack-dab in the middle of it all. He wasn’t on the manifest. In fact, none of the Squad Six men were, but six football players from unremarkable teams were.

  Someone’s going to find those chumps in that bathroom soon enough and be real surprised, Grant mused darkly, glancing over at the woman to his side. I bet she shouldn’t be here either, so why is she? Doesn’t look like an Arctic terrorist… though the blonde hair might be a tell. Interesting.

  Reflexively, he relaxed his hands, feeling them tense up. This was no time to lose his cool. The airplane was peeling up into the sky, hoots and hollers from the teams making the air thick. Grant wanted to look around, get a better control of the people around him, but he knew he had to keep it casual, keep himself unnoticed like the rest of the squad was doing. They weren’t entirely sure what The Arctics were planning, but the intel they’d received had been pretty damn adamant about it being something big.