Fueled by Lust: Cato (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 5

  Petrus pulled a chair next to his, clasped his fingers over his flat belly, and stretched out his long legs. “You’re welcome, but I meant the last time you fed your energy.”

  Eyebrow lifting, Cato nodded. “That’s a good way to put it. Just like the food, I can’t remember.” The sandwich suddenly lost its appeal.

  Petrus bumped him on the arm. “Are you feeling well enough to drive or do you need me to take you?”

  Cato rose to his feet to see if gravity was going to play a trick on him again. Satisfied he had control over his body, he reached down and peeled Donk off his leg. “I’m good. Can you follow me? If I start fuzzing out, I’ll pull over.”

  Petrus handed him the suitcase then motioned to the monitoring equipment. “I can come back afterward and make sure everything’s running smoothly. You need to go home and get some sleep.”

  Shaking his head, Cato threw his food in the trash and pushed against the door with his shoulder. “No need. The damn things run on their own. If anything were to go down, it’d notify me on the handheld. I’ve spent way too much time in this room and you shouldn’t start.”

  Cato breathed heavily of the night air, set Donk and the luggage in the bed of his truck, and pointed at the wide-eyed feline. “Stay.” Petrus’s laughter drew his glare. “What?”

  “He’s not a gods damn dog, idiot. Don’t you know? Earth cats own us, not the other way around. Just like the Lemarok.”

  “Great! Now I need to get him some food.”

  Petrus gestured to the cab of the truck. “Already done. I also got him some litter, toys, and a bed. I knew if I left him to your devices, I’d find his skeletal remains in about a week.”

  Cato laughed. “Damn! I’m not that bad, Petrus.”

  At Petrus’s raised brow, Cato glanced back at Donk and shrugged. “You sure you know what you’re doing, buddy? Here’s your chance to make your escape.”

  Donk turned his back to Cato, crawled underneath the toolbox, and curled up inside a coil of rope.

  “Okay. Suit yourself.” He glanced at Petrus and said, “See? He stayed. He knows I’m the boss.” At Petrus’s eye roll, Cato grunted. “Come on. Let’s get this over with so you can go home. I’m sure you’re tired of babysitting my ass.”

  Cato drove to Heat Seekers and dreaded what he had to do. His body needed sustenance, yet his mind craved the return to a quiet room that smelled of lavender, and hair that felt like silk against his fingers.

  Chapter 6

  Even though the smoky smell irritated his nose, Cato continued to draw the scent into his lungs as energy suffused his depleted body. Exhaling on a shudder, he flipped his eyes open and became caught in Ferox’s concerned stare.

  “You trying to kill yourself, Cato?”

  Grunting, Cato lifted a glass of ice water to his lips and drank heavily. Shoving the empty cup toward Ferox, he glanced around Heat Seekers before reengaging with the knowing look. “Nah. Just got sidetracked.”

  Ferox slid an orange juice in front of him. “Drink this. It helps when you’ve gotten that low.”

  Nodding his thanks, Cato took the juice and watched a genuine smile lift the male’s lips as he glanced to his right. It’d been a long time since the warrior had been capable of showing true happiness. His heart warmed when he spotted Ferox’s reason for joy.

  The rarest Insedi sat at the end of the bar and pored through paperwork as her mate stared with awe in her direction. She was the last surviving female breed. Anything harboring ill intent would meet certain death before coming near her.

  Ferox couldn’t stomach a moment of separation from Zonia since she’d been returned from Basilius’s clutches. To keep them together, Drusus designated her the club accountant. She’d taken to it like a pro. Cato was confident Ludo had relinquished that duty with great relief. His sincere words brought Ferox’s attention back.

  “I’m happy for you, Ferox.” He suppressed a smile as the big warrior’s face reddened. Cato lifted his brows when Ferox hesitated, crossed his forearms, and leaned against the bar. His words were soft, yet powerful.

  “I am the luckiest male on this planet. I almost lost her. Death was preferable. When you find your mate, Cato, grasp hold and never release. Always remember that we are family and you can come to me, to any of us, with anything. We are brothers.”

  A sudden urge to head back to the hospital overwhelmed Cato’s senses, yet he knew he hadn’t received enough energy. He was stuck for a while longer until he could stand without trembling. He nodded in understanding. “Always.”

  Ferox smiled, moved over to Zonia, and clasped her hand. He grinned at her uplifted face and kissed her palm. She blushed and ducked her head as Ferox moved on to customers clamoring for drinks.

  “Amici! Where have you been?”

  Cato swiveled on the barstool and encountered a grinning Caelius. “Hey, buddy. Been busy. You up soon?”

  The young, heavily muscled warrior hopped onto a seat and leaned back against the bar. He wore nothing except a pair of black warm-up pants and a smile. “Yes. I am very excited. Maxim and I will perform the gladiator routine since Severus and our Trejani were called back home.”

  Curious, Cato watched as Caelius looked away, pushed his fingers through his long, dark hair, and absently rubbed the mating necklace dangling between his pecs. His turquoise eyes darted furtively around the club and landed on anything that moved.

  Cato nudged him on the shoulder. “What’s up, brother? You seem anxious. Something bothering you?”

  Caelius glanced over, his expression moving back to a mask of happiness. “No. I am fine. Did Maxim tell you? Ulixes and I joined a cooking class. We have been twice now and I have learned to work with eggs. I cooked an omelet for Maxim this morning and he seemed to like it. We are to learn about casseroles next week.”

  Cato chuckled and nodded his head. “Yes, I heard about the incident with Maxim’s Hummer and your subsequent punishment.” He suppressed a laugh when Caelius’s face reddened and showed signs of confusion.

  “Amici, I do not understand why the other warriors continue to laugh at me when they hear the story. It was but a simple scratch and nothing to be amused about. I merely stated that I would never touch his beast again and they fell about like unruly children.”

  Unable to stop his grin, Cato placed a comforting hand on Caelius’s shoulder, leaned forward, and whispered into his ear. “Maxim has been known to call something else ‘the beast’ besides his vehicle, my young friend.”

  Caelius frowned and lowered his voice. “I still do not see why this would be humorous. What other thing could possibly…”

  Understanding reformed Caelius’s features and a deep flush painted his cheeks. “I believe I understand now. Thank you for clearing my confusion. I will be careful how I speak of the incident in the future.”

  Suddenly, his eyes widened and he shot a look of horror Cato’s way. “It is no wonder Ulixes appeared unable to breathe after I offered to wash Maxim’s beas…uh…vehicle. They must think me daft!”

  Leaning back, Cato placed his elbow on the bar and pressed a fist against his mouth. The youngster had suffered enough without compounding it with further laughter. When he felt composed enough, he bumped Caelius on the shoulder. “You can come to me anytime you’re confused about Earth slang, Caelius. You’re not the first warrior to be teased. I’ve been listening to informal talk for five years. I’ve logged and interpreted each instance. However, it does change and evolve. Knowledge comes from defining the context. Remind me to show you the next time you come by Seekers.”

  Caelius grinned and jumped up from the stool. “That would be wonderful! I would like to talk as you do. Perhaps I will learn why Nikos believes I have a stick up my ass. This must be slang since it is quite obvious that I do not.”

  Cato couldn’t control his immediate rush of laughter. Maxim’s arrival at the bar saved him from having to apologize.

  “Hey, my brother. Long time no see.” At Cato’s nod, Maxim turn
ed and clapped Caelius on the shoulder. “The crowd is starting to thicken. Go get the costumes ready. We’re up in fifteen. I’ll be right there.”

  Caelius smiled, threw a quick wave, and loped toward the backstage door.

  Maxim leaned on the bar, crossed his massive forearms, and raised an eyebrow. “Why are you still here? I thought you were supposed to make a trip back home?”

  Cato lifted a brow. “What? You don’t want me around anymore, Maxim? I thought you liked me. My heart’s broken.” Tilting to the side from the hard shove to his shoulder, Cato laughed and shoved him back. “I had to take care of something. They didn’t really need me to relay the information on the report. Severus has it covered.”

  Maxim nodded in understanding, yet his hard gaze didn’t waver. “So, staying here had nothing to do with your father? Will you ever forgive him?”

  Grunting, Cato drank the rest of the orange juice and placed the glass on the bar. The playful moment had dissipated. “No. It really didn’t. However, it’s not making me sad that I don’t have to see him. It’s been talked to death. There is no forgiveness. Can we drop it now?”

  Maxim’s demeanor softened. “Look, cousin. I’m sorry for grilling you. Each time I’ve visited my father, he makes me promise that I’ll ask you to visit yours. It’s his brother. He feels obligated to fix what’s wrong. He won’t listen to me.”

  Shoulders relaxing, Cato clapped Maxim on the arm. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. You can do me a favor, however.”

  Maxim’s eyebrows rose. “And that would be?”

  “Keep an eye on Caelius. He seems anxious about something. He likes the cooking class, so I’m not sure what it is.”

  Laughing, Maxim placed his hands on his hips. “He surprised the hell out of me this morning. The boy can cook and he just started. Can you imagine him in another month? Don’t worry about the other. I know exactly what’s crawled up his ass.”

  Cato snorted. “Hopefully, it’s not the stick that Nikos thinks is planted there.”

  Maxim’s booming laughter brought more attention to them than Cato was comfortable with. He’d been practically invisible in the club until two bare-chested males had stopped by to visit.

  “Ah, gods! You should have seen Caelius’s face when he tried to figure that one out. The boy cracks me up. No. His problem is patience. He’s been moping around for a while now. He thinks he’s never going to find a mate. It’s gotten so bad that he’s met with a few other warriors about starting a male revue tour group. He reasons they’d all have more opportunity for mate potentials if they traveled about. He’s already contacted a place out of Orlando called Rock Hard Revue to see if they’d be interested in a pass through. Some guy named David said he’d call him back. Shit! I gotta run. I’ve got five minutes to dress. Later.”

  “Yeah, later.” Cato narrowed his brows in thought. A tour group? That’s not bad. The little shit may be young and naïve, but this may have merit. The percentages of mate propagation flying through his brain came to a halt at the sound of clashing metal.

  The lifting stage curtain revealed Maxim and Caelius in battlefield dress. Their oiled chests, arms, torsos, and legs gleamed in the dim light as they fought efficiently upon the stage. Wide leather straps crisscrossed their massive chests and back while a black loin cloth saved their modesty. Their heavy boots pounded upon the stage floor in harmony with the thunder of warring drums.

  Cato shook his head and sighed. Any warrior of worth knew that men on a battleground would never engage with such meager protection. But, then again, that would defeat the purpose of the reception they were after. The women stampeding to the stage weren’t aware, and probably wouldn’t care, that the battle moves they witnessed were real. Graceful arcs, forward thrusts, and backward parries were common Insedi moves from their training program. The only difference here were the combatants stirred up libidos instead of an army. And more importantly, they weren’t trying to kill each other.

  By the last blade strike, the lining of the stage had grown thick with women ready to pass their money for a chance to touch the champion. A victorious Caelius stood over the obviously not dead, but playing the role very nicely, Maxim, and smiled lasciviously at the mesmerized group. He randomly pointed at different women as if deciding which to throw over his shoulder and whisk back to his lair. Nikos walked on stage to the sound of catcalls and whistles and drug Maxim away.

  The screaming crowd showed no sympathy for the dead when Caelius released his leather straps to reveal the entirety of his chest and back. All eyes were definitely on him. As he threw the harness to the side, the war drums silenced and a sensual rhythm of current rock infiltrated the speakers. Caelius slowly danced over to the far end of the platform and worked his way along the edge. He easily pulled women halfway upon the stage and draped his body across theirs. Many times he was lost in a sea of grasping hands as he undulated over their prone bodies. He touched every woman’s neck and wrist. With each caress and new woman Caelius encountered, Cato saw disappointment grow across his handsome face until it was as evident as the large skirt of money circling his waist. Even though he appeared to no longer want the attention, the oblivious women showed their appreciation in spades.

  The effect was immediate. Cato felt the air thicken around him. His skin crackled with electricity and his heart pounded in anticipation as sensual desire wafted around his skin and sought entrance. Good…good…this should do it. Cato ignored the smoke smell and breathed in the freely given essence he desperately needed to stabilize his core. There was nothing sexual involved with the act. His cock remained slack in his jeans throughout the process. It was nothing more to him than savoring a thick steak to fill an empty belly.

  As he absorbed the last roll of desire, a subtle hint of jasmine surprised him. Glancing to his right, he saw a pretty young woman with shoulder-length, dark hair sitting at a corner table. She was alone and out of place. She had no drink in front of her, or a girlfriend attached to her side. Her manner of dress was sedate, and delicate hands clutched a purse to her chest like a shield against everything she witnessed. Her eyes were riveted to the stage while a slight smile graced her lips. She remained hidden in the shadows and her gaze never left Caelius throughout the remainder of his set. As soon as the young warrior exited the stage, the woman’s smile melted away. Seconds later, she scurried from the table and out the front door.

  Cato smiled. Ah, Caelius. I believe you don’t need to go far, my friend. Something brushed along the top of his hair and immediately brought his curiosity for the mystery woman to a halt. He inwardly shuddered as a hand drifted lazily up his arm and grasped his bicep. Turning, he suppressed a growl at the unwanted familiarity directed toward him. The object of his consternation was seriously invading his personal bubble. Her face was heavily painted and her perfume failed to veil the acrid stench of smoke. If her little, black dress were any tighter, he was sure her breasts would pop out and present for his inspection. She struck a seductive pose while steadily stroking a swath of flat, blonde hair strategically pulled over her shoulder. Her voice came out high pitched and it annoyed him.

  “Hey, cutie. Your hair’s softer than I thought. You’re new here. When you going up?”

  Cato glanced to three similarly clad and coifed females practically attached to the woman’s back. Returning his gaze to the obvious alpha of the herd, he pasted a smile on his puss. Despite his initial instinct to shove them away, he relaxed back onto the stool and crossed his arms. Hopefully, they would read the universal symbol for “I’m not buying” and find another target. He was in their domain and couldn’t blame them for the misunderstanding.

  “Evening, ladies. Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not one of the entertainers. In fact, I was just leaving.” His forward motion was thwarted when the pack leader insinuated herself between his legs. The grip to his bicep returned while her other hand absently stroked his chest. She stank of desperation.

  “Wait. We’re here for a bachelorette party.
You interested in making some cash? Come back to our apartment and dance for us. I love your accent. You’re very sexy.” Her cheerleading squad bobbed their heads in agreement and giggled in stereo.

  Cato released a low growl when the pack leader ran her palm across his crotch and squeezed. Before she could purr out her intentions, he grasped her thin arms, gently backed her up, and rose from the stool.

  “Like I said, I’m not an entertainer and you’re touching what doesn’t belong to you. I’m sure you’ll find someone else that’ll be more than happy to dance for you, as long as you keep your hands to yourself.” He was happy to see the flush of embarrassment steal across her cheeks as she backed away. She craned her neck back to look at him when he reached his full height. Her eyes narrowed and churlish words spilled from her glossy lips.

  “Well, excuse me, dickhead! You shouldn’t come in here if you can’t handle it.” She swung her flattened hair away from her shoulder and planted her hands on her hips.

  Cato leaned forward and lowered his voice to a husky timbre. He was overly tired of having a conversation with this woman. “You’re missing the point. Even if I did dance here, you’ve no right to assume that I’m as easy as you. Treat the other males in here as you’ve done me and you’ll no longer be welcome.”

  He saw it coming, even turned his face a tad to give her greater advantage. Cato considered her ignorant to the art of war as he heard her palm crack loudly against his cheek.

  Chapter 7

  “We have a problem here?”

  The wide-eyed, cheerleader trio gaped at Ludo, standing to the side and appearing ready to toss a woman across his shoulder if need be. They wisely returned to their table and left their oblivious friend to her own fate. Ludo was a big bastard and was intimidating as hell if you didn’t know him. Cassie would’ve said he was full of goo.