Match Me Later (Chinese Zodiac Romance Series Book 4) Read online

  He’s ruled by responsibility…

  Ryden Wentworth doesn’t do casual. But when the fox spirit Naya stalks him at a nightclub and lures him into her bed, she awakens desires he’s long suppressed. She’s fiery, sensual, and powerful enough to fend off his darker side. Yet initiating her means he can only have her for one night, and sharing Naya isn’t something he can reconcile.

  She’s bred for promiscuity…

  Naya of the Fox Spirits has chosen the perfect human male to initiate her. Ryden is strong, sexy, and the potent energy rolling off him leaves her craving more. Her destiny lies ahead, yet she can’t forget that tantalizing encounter in her past. She tries to leave him, but staying away from Ryden isn’t just torture, it’s killing her.

  One night of passion binds them…

  Their night together has complicated consequences. Ryden can’t forget Naya, and she can’t live without him. Her race is dying, and Naya must team up with Ryden to fend off enemies preying on her weakened sisters. But the secret he hides has the power to shield the fox spirits from extinction…or to destroy them all.

  MATCH ME LATER

  A CHINESE ZODIAC ROMANCE

  RACHAEL SLATE

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 by Rachael Slate

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  First Edition November 2015

  Edited by Kelley Heckart

  Cover design by NovelArt Designs

  Artwork by Jeanette Palafox

  Formatting by NovelArt Designs

  ISBN 978-0-9948764-1-6

  For my readers, thank you!

  SUTOL nightclub – Hong Kong

  670 days since the first outbreak of the Red Death

  Tonight, he was getting laid.

  The strobe lights pulsed in and out with the deep bass of the club music as she stalked toward Ryden. Tight, red leather dress. Black fuck me heels.

  Every being in the club had been entranced by her at least once. Male and female. She waded through the crowd, assessing each of them…and passing them by.

  Until she caught sight of Ryden. He, of course, was as fixated as everyone else. Frozen in place, yet his pulse raced, electrified by her magnetism. He hadn’t come to SUTOL for a hookup—casual flings were Price’s thing, not his—but as this vixen sauntered toward him, only one thought passed through his brain.

  She’s mine.

  Ryden’s grip tightened around his glass and he dragged the rim to his lips, downing the single malt in one gulp. Grimacing, he shook off the fire burning his throat and slammed the glass onto the bar.

  He flicked his gaze to the woman, and yep, she still targeted him. Plump, ruby bottom lip drawn between her white teeth. He squared his shoulders and met her focus.

  Yeah, she was fucking hot, and that was what most people would notice. Not Ryden. He’d spent enough time around his brother, Price, to discern exactly what she was.

  The lights flickered across her eyes, reflecting a second longer than a human’s would. Though she could pass them off as contact lenses, her slitted pupils were a sharp reminder of the predator she was. Those weren’t the only telltale signs. Once she got close enough, she’d smell damn good. Like sugar blossoms. A little floral, a little sweet. Her skin would be so smooth, so silken, softer than even a newborn’s.

  She was a húli jīng. A fox spirit.

  A creature made for seduction, and tonight, he was the lucky bastard she’d chosen.

  He didn’t even know why the hell he was in this club. The deal that had fallen through at his architecture firm today pissed him off. His boss hadn’t even given a good reason why their shitty client had called the project off. Months of planning and design blown to fuck.

  A rap at his door had interrupted his wallowing. A mousy-haired, petite woman had stood outside. Price wasn’t home and would he mind dropping this letter off with the bartender at SUTOL?

  So he’d headed to the club Price always tried to drag him to. The one he avoided ninety-nine percent of the time. His brother wasn’t around and restlessness clawed through Ryden. That suppressed beast inside inched toward the surface.

  The lanky bartender had insisted on thanking Ryden with a drink, and he didn’t have any excuse not to. Beat sitting at home drinking alone.

  Yeah, he’d scanned the throng of gyrating bodies for a little action, but damn. Strangers weren’t his go-to, but this one? Wouldn’t be any heart to break, any hurt feelings in the morning. One night of oblivion might set him straight.

  He leaned back, stretching his elbows on the bar, and let her come to him. Fuck, she was beautiful. Her chin-length black hair wisped around her face. Round, expressive silver eyes glinted at him. She was tall, but she’d still only reach his shoulder. Well, maybe his nose in those six-inch heels.

  Either she was new here, or he’d been away for too long, because he didn’t recognize her as a groupie who hung around Price.

  She strolled right to him, and it was hard to draw his stare from those long, long legs. He dragged his appreciation to the hem of her dress that barely covered her fine ass. Along slender hips, up her narrow waist, and halted for a second on her pert breasts molded to the off-the-shoulder cut. She was slender, toned, and slight. One glimpse at her and he might deem her weak or vulnerable.

  Yeah, fuck that. Beneath her beauty lay a dangerous beast on the hunt for its next meal.

  Me.

  The tidbits Price had spewed were embedded in the recesses of Ryden’s brain. His brother loved nothing more than to brag about “his” fox spirits. Their customs, their habits. How bloody proud he’d been to finally discover them after all these years of searching.

  Ryden could fill this room with what he knew about the fox spirits…but nothing from first-hand experience, despite the multiple offerings Price had tempted him with.

  This one? This vixen standing in front of him… Well, guess he was about to find out.

  “You going to buy me a drink?” She tilted her head, one hand clutching her purse at her waist.

  “No.”

  Her eyes flashed as though she hadn’t anticipated his refusal.

  He rose and bent to purr into her ear. Damn, she did smell good—a thousand times sweeter this close. “You don’t want a drink, well, not from a glass.” As he inhaled, the scent of her was like sugar on his tongue. “Húli jīng.”

  ***

  Naya shivered at the human male’s words. His heated breath tingled across her skin, down to her core, and made her squeeze her thighs together in anticipation.

  She’d chosen well. Of the males in this club, he was the strongest. Fierce energy rolled off him in waves, beckoning her. She licked the seam of her lips as he pulled back, straightened, and winked at her. Tall, dark, mysterious.

  He knows what I am.

  Though her sisters often spoke of this club and the Chosen male who cared for them, he wasn’t the one.

  Hmm. How intriguing. His dark blue gaze settled on her with an assuredness that roused instincts deep within her. Tonight was her night. She’d finally reached the age of maturity—twenty-five—and it was time to step into her birthright.

  With him.

  Yes. She lowered her lashes and studied this man. Dozens of males in this club had begged her to choose them, but
she’d dismissed them in favor of the delectable specimen in front of her. Judging by the slight crinkle around his eyes, she pegged his age around thirty. His gray striped suit embraced broad, refined shoulders. Beneath, he wore a crisp, starched white shirt and a plain, pale blue tie. Probably a business man or a professional. A nine-to-five, work-hard-and-never-play type.

  He appeared far too restrained compared to the club full of scantily-dressed, grinding humans, but damn, she was glad he was here. She teetered in her heels, balancing on the balls of her feet. She’d been nervous earlier, despite the reassurances of her sisters, that she wouldn’t be attracted to any of the humans. Thankfully, this man in front of her was drop-dead gorgeous and already her sex had grown damp. Lust flashed across his aura, darkening his somber stance, and enhancing her attraction. Her lips curved at the serious cut of his smooth, shaven jaw. Exactly how fox spirits liked them. Beards? No thanks.

  He was the perfect pick. As he shrugged off his jacket, the firm contours of his muscular frame stretched against the fabric of his shirt. Oh yeah. He folded back his sleeves to cuff at his elbows, baring meandering veins that riveted her attention. If the rest of him was as deliciously ripped, she was in for the best night of her life.

  “No, but you should still offer.”

  He tilted his head. “Why?”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “A gentleman would.”

  He curled one large finger under her chin. “What makes you believe I’m a gentleman?”

  Sweeping forward, he claimed her mouth, his tongue thrusting inside. As she gasped, his other hand clutched her ass and crushed her to him. A thick, hard ridge strained against her belly, making her moan in hunger.

  His hand spanned her cheek, commanding the angle of her head. While he made demands of her body she willingly obeyed, an urge nudged at the back of her brain.

  I’m supposed to be in control. She was the seductress and this was her conquest.

  Not his.

  She wrenched her lips off his, her tongue lingering for a second on his decadent taste while she steadied her breaths. His hand dropped from her and he sank onto his stool, his broad chest expanding and collapsing as rapidly as hers. She squeezed her eyes and refocused on her sisters’ words. If she didn’t take charge of this—and get what she required—she’d not only be the humiliation of her race, she’d wither into nothingness.

  She’d reached the age of maturity. I must do this. No choice involved, except the choice of male. If she didn’t feed, she would starve the fox spirit inside her, and eventually, die.

  Not gonna happen.

  Naya scanned from side to side, sweeping the room again, but even though he’d tested her, she didn’t hunger after any of the others.

  The man lowered his head into his large hands—his right one stained with blue ink. Well, at least she hadn’t been the only one unnerved by that blast of desire.

  “Take me home.” She lifted her brow in challenge. If he didn’t accept, he must be the wrong choice, and she would find another—

  He stood and seized her hand, dragging her through the crowd toward the exit. She hastened to keep up with his long-legged strides in her high heels. His warm grip was firm, sure, as he guided her into a cab. She slid across the seat, fisted her hands, and kept her focus ahead. He climbed in beside her and directed the driver.

  After tugging down the high-cut hem of her dress, she smoothed her hands along her thighs. Part of her was terrified of what to expect. Sure, she’d heard tales of these intimate encounters her whole life, but she’d never experienced one.

  The greater part of her, though, couldn’t be more excited. She was finally stepping into her destiny, and she’d chosen the perfect man to take her there.

  What was he thinking? For a second, she feared he might back out. She snuck a glimpse at him, and he twisted to regard her, slipping one heavy hand atop hers.

  Studying him, she already knew so much about this man. What his heartbeat sounded like at rest, and how it pounded now with her. The strength in his aura, the raw power. His dark, musky scent—rich, aromatic traces of ink and paper…

  The cab pulled to the curb and he climbed out, extending his hand to aid her. She shuffled over, placing one heel in front of the other, and clasped his hand. He lifted her to her feet, the strength in his grasp so inviting. Holding her hand, he led her through the lobby of his condo. The building was exactly what she would have expected of a man like him. Classy. Affluent. They rode the elevator up to the top—no surprise there—and he ushered her through one of two flats on the floor.

  She strolled inside; he closed and locked the door behind them. He didn’t flick on the lights, but she could see well in darkness. Clean, nicely furnished, modern décor. Dark wood accented with creams and a hint of color in the landscape paintings on the walls. An office on the right revealed hand-sketched blueprints scattered across a desk. Explained the hint of ink—like fine wine—in his scent and blue smudges on his hand. As she stepped down into the living space, he edged up behind her, his fingers wrapping around her wrist.

  His grip tightened and he spun her around, backing her against the wall. His intense dark eyes peered into hers, but his jaw clenched as he eased back. “I don’t do this.”

  She frowned. “You know what I am.” Had she assumed wrong?

  He nodded. “My brother… Well, I…” Okay, that’s not an explanation. He shrugged. “I don’t do…casual.”

  Yet he’d brought her home, invited her in. Time to take charge. She curled her fingertips into his shoulder and pressed her lips close to his ear. “Baby, if you know what I am, you know that’s all I do. Now, are you going to fuck me, or should I go back to the club?”

  Fuck. What the hell was wrong with him? She was right. He’d taken her home. Instead of getting down to it, he was clamming up like a pussy.

  His hand shot forward and closed around her pretty throat, his thumb grazing her ruby red lips. “I’m Ryden. Tell me your name.” Bloody hell, where did that come from? He knew the deal with fox spirits, yet he craved some kind of connection to her.

  “Megan.” Her teeth nipped at his thumb.

  Ryden inhaled and exhaled through his nose. His cock was hard—hell, he’d been hard since the club. The ache deep in his ballocks was going to kill him if he didn’t get some release.

  Why not? His brain jumbled for a smidge of reason, but well, there weren’t any arguments left.

  Just once, he could do what Price did, right? One night of inconsequence.

  Her fingers trailed from his shoulder to his tie, and the fabric ripped, loosening the knot around his neck.

  Damned sharp claws.

  Fox spirit. She was a seductress, in search of a meal. He’d never been with one, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious. For one night, he would do anything he desired. Price had made these females seem…

  Fuck. Stop thinking about your bloody brother.

  His buttons popped off, one by one, as her claws punched through the threads. Parting the folds of his shirt, she purred and skimmed her fingers inside. “Hmm, what’s this?” She grasped for the coin-sized, gold talisman he kept chained around his neck.

  “Nothing.” He jerked the thick chain around, the pendant hanging down his back. The metal was usually cool against his skin, but tonight it felt…warmer. Weird.

  Megan didn’t waste any time with questions as her hands descended to his belt, unclasping it and sliding the leather through the loops. He’d never been with a woman who was this…experienced. It wasn’t in him to hand over control, but he’d watch her play for a few more minutes.

  She unzipped his pants and cupped him through his boxers. He hissed as she stroked him and brought him forward through the slit in the fabric. Sinking, she flicked her silken tongue across his erection. On her knees, she cradled his cock in her hands like a fucking treasure, but maybe to her race, it was.

  Fox spirits had a bad rep in the Jade Emperor’s world, mostly because they never attempted to ch
ange their notoriety. Price had clued him in to the truth. Without human males, they were dead. Although predatory, they abhorred any hint of violence. They were wickedly fierce in battle, but would rather not engage. They were gentle, all about the love.

  The way she handled him… He planted his hands on the wall. She sucked him into her mouth, those pretty lips suctioning around his tip and forcing a groan from deep within his chest.

  His last girlfriend hadn’t ever taken him in her mouth, and fuck. He couldn’t remember the last time any woman had, but it sure as hell hadn’t felt like this. A fiery path of lust that seized his muscles. He froze his hips and stopped the urge to slam himself into her mouth. The longer he held out, the better this would be for her.

  Damn, as she sucked and her hand dipped to cup his ballocks through his boxers, he sensed he wouldn’t last.

  Cursing, Ryden jerked back from her mouth, seized her wrists, and hauled her to her feet. Snaring her lips, he slowed things down, nipping and teasing her mouth with his. He released her hands, but she grasped his shaft again and pumped her hands up and down his length. A growl escaped his throat, a warning, but she didn’t heed it. So he thrust a hand up her dress, between her legs, and—

  “Fuck me.” Her satiny flesh greeted his fingertips, deliciously wet. She wasn’t wearing any panties, not that it should surprise him. He skimmed his fingers along her pussy, fingering her slick opening.

  “No, fuck me. Hard.” She tilted her chin up at him, the challenge sparking fire in her silver eyes.

  He swallowed thickly. Before common sense overtook him, he spun her around, shoved her legs apart to expose her silky, pink sex, and slammed right into her.

  Wet. Hot. Tight. Really, really tight.

  She inhaled sharply.

  Oh, crap.

  He grimaced. The puzzle pieces didn’t fit, but the wince on her face revealed the picture.

  “I.” Swallowing his apology, he drew back, but jolted at the sting in his ass.