by Alisa Woods
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River Pack Wolves
Jaxson (Book 1)
Jace (Book 2)
Jared (Book 3)
Wilding Pack Wolves
Wild Game (Book 1)
Wild Love (Book 2)
Wild Heat (coming soon)
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Wild Love (Wilding Pack Wolves 2)
Copyright © 2016 by Alisa Woods
January 2016 Edition
All rights reserved.
Sworn Secrets Publishing
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author. For information visit:
Alisa Woods
Cover by Steven Novak
Wild Love (Wilding Pack Wolves 2)—New Adult Paranormal Romance
Noah Wilding hiked up the stairs to the second floor of the motel. He couldn’t decide if he wanted this time to be like the last three hookups—a couple hours of raging hot sex with a human female until both of them were worn out from the sheer intensity and repeated orgasms—or if he wanted to finally flush out the bad guy so his pack could catch the bastard.
Tough choice.
“How about you leave the mic on this time, Noah?” The voice coming over his earbud was scratched with a bit of static, but he easily recognized Jimmy, who could give him a run for Horniest Unmated Wolf in the River pack. The kid was barely eighteen to Noah’s twenty-one and would’ve traded places with Noah in a heartbeat.
“Or maybe you could just get the job done a little faster?” That was Jace River, his sister’s mate and one of the three River brothers who ran Riverwise, the security firm that Noah, Jimmy, and the rest of the pack worked for. “I mean, really? Two hours. What takes you so long?”
Laughter came over the earbud from the rest of the assholes in the pack van.
“Come on, man, leave the mic on.” Jimmy again, pleading. “I want to learn from the Master.”
“You guys are a bunch of perverts,” he whispered into his mic, which was sewn into his collar. He tried not to be obvious about talking into his clothes, not that there was anyone lingering around the motel balcony at ten o’clock at night for this app-mediated booty call. “If you losers weren’t all so ugly, maybe you could be on the front lines like me.” He smirked at the roar of protests that flooded his earbud.
Noah paused at the door—number twenty-three—trying to get in the right frame of mind and forget the assholes who were listening in.
He pictured the face he had seen on the WildLove app—pretty, young like him, sparkling blue eyes—just the kind of soft, innocent-looking face that would lure in a hot-blooded shifter. This new dating app run by the Seattle Shifters Dating Agency had gotten wildly popular once a hate group decided to start targeting shifters. That had cleared out the downtown shifter bars—it just wasn’t safe to gather in groups these days—which left a lot of shifters very horny with not a lot to do about it. The app was genius for hooking up shifters with willing humans, which was apparently the new rage among Seattle’s hipsters… until someone started planting car bombs while the couple was tangled in the sheets.
Two shifters had been hit in the last two months—both survived, but that only proved how damn hard it was to kill them. Riverwise had teamed up with the dating agency to go undercover and hunt down whoever was doing this before they succeeding in killing someone… not to mention put the dating agency out of business.
Which was why he was here.
“Okay, perverts,” Noah whispered into his mic. “I’m going in. Mic is switching off, but let me know if you see anything. And keep your chatter to a minimum. It’s hard to get it up with you guys in my ear.”
He tapped the mic off and chuckled at the predictable swearing and good-natured name-calling that followed, but they quickly settled down. He knocked on the door—three quick raps—and tried to get his game face on.
When the door opened, the girl inside looked just like her picture—only instead of sweet-and-innocent, she was smokin’ hot. The nerdy T-shirt and jeans from her WildLove profile had been replaced by a silky dress that clung to her luscious curves in all the right places. But as hot as she was, standing there holding the door open, she seemed as skittish as a startled kitten.
“Um…hi,” he said, working to keep the drool in his mouth. “I’m Noah Wilding.” He sincerely hoped there would be no bad guys tonight. If this human girl wanted a taste of wolf, he definitely wanted to help out with that.
She blinked, rapidly, and her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She was checking him out, but in a nervous kind of way, as if she was fighting it—flicking her eyes down to his chest and even lower, then jerking them back up again. And she was biting her lip like she was trying to chew it off.
When she didn’t say anything, he frowned and added, “I’m, you know, from WildLove?” He glanced at the door number, even though he was sure this was the girl. But if she was too freaked out by the hookup, he wanted to give her a plausible excuse to bow out. “Is this the right room?”
“Oh yeah. I mean, yes. The right room. Definitely!” She squeezed her eyes tight for a second like she was trying to get a grip on herself.
He grinned. She was fucking adorable. Man, he hoped she would actually invite him in.
She finally opened her eyes again. “Please come in.” She visibly swallowed and stepped back to give him room.
He slowly stepped inside, like any sudden movement might scare her off. The room was pretty standard for a low-rent motel room—cheesy art on the walls, really thin spread on the bed, worn patterns in the industrial carpet. He gave it a good checking out, just in case. The previous attempts had been car bombs, not traps lurking in the motel room itself, but that was still a possibility. He turned back to her and watched her close the door with shaky hands.
Why was she so nervous? The last three women had definitely been… experienced in this sort of thing. The previously-vibrant shifter bar scene meant there were a lot of human females who had scored a little paranormal action before. But if he was being set up…
“You are Emily Richards, right?” That was the name on her profile… who knew what it was in real life. Almost no one used their real names on WildLove. He had used his because the freak who was head of the hate group—a guy who called himself the Wolf Hunter—had already outed all the Wilding pack members, including Noah. And that made him a tempting target.
The girl’s back was glued to the door, hands flat against it. “Yes. My name is Emily.” There was a kind of terror in her eyes, and her long blond hair didn’t quite hide the shaking of her shoulders.
He waited for more, but it wasn’t forthcoming. This girl was either freaked about setting him up and had an accomplice outside, or this was just her first time with a shifter. A few whispers floated across his earbud, but nothing to indicate anything was wrong in the pack van.
Noah narrowed his eyes. “We really don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to.” He held his hands out, palms forward, like he was calming a wild rabbit.
That seemed to rise up some fire in her. She pushed away from the door and took three determined strides toward
him, stopping just inside his reach. “No.” She sucked in a breath. “I want to do this.”
She was obviously trying to be brave about this for some reason, but the twitchy look on her face was bringing out the protective side of his wolf. His inner beast was no ordinary wolf, but it was still all alpha… and that skittish look was just making him want her more. Like his wolf was dying to kiss away whatever was making her tremble.
“Okay.” He swallowed, unsure how to proceed. Normally there was a little banter or something before the clothes started coming off. Although one of his hookups had barely said hello before she was tearing off his shirt. But this one… it felt like they should have gone out on a date, or three, before getting to this point, standing in a motel room together.
He held out his hand. She stared at it like it might bite her… then she slowly put her hand in his. It was warm and soft and delicate, with thin little fingers that looked like they hadn’t done any manual labor in her entire life.
“What do you do for a living, Emily?” he asked, pulling her a little closer and capturing her pretty blue eyes with a gentle look. She was short, and he kind of loomed over her, but he hoped his touch and a little small talk would calm her. Besides, WildLove was pretty scant on personal details, given it was a site primarily designed for brief sexual encounters with no chance of commitment. He really didn’t know anything about her.
“Um…” She swallowed again, peering up at him, but not moving away. “Librarian.”
He smiled. “You’re kidding me. A sexy librarian? How did I get so lucky?” He was close enough to put his arms around her now, but he was still just holding her hand. He had a sudden urge to pull her into a hug—a protective, reassuring one—but even that seem too intimate. Too fast. Instead, he tucked her hand against his chest.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Emily.”
Her eyes grew a little wider. “I know,” she whispered. “Shifters are extremely protective of their mates, and even women and children they don’t know but need their help. In fact, it’s been widely shown that they rarely attack anyone without provocation, much less someone weaker or more vulnerable than them, which is really pretty much any human. Their whole pack culture is wrapped up in family and caring and a tight magical bond of love.” She stopped suddenly, the look of terror scuttling back to her face, like she hadn’t meant to blurt all that out at once.
Noah just stared. She certainly talked like a librarian. But it was more than a little weird to have that kind of encyclopedic knowledge of shifters—and it was just the kind of research someone obsessed might do. Obsessed enough to kill.
“You seem to know a lot about shifters,” he said carefully.
Her cheeks flushed. She dropped her gaze to the floor, then the bed, then the wall… anywhere but looking at him. “I just… I just think shifters are…” Her gaze finally came back to him, fixing on his chest. “Amazing,” she breathed out. Then she slowly dragged her gaze up to meet his. Her lips parted, and she seemed to be laboring to breathe.
Noah knew women reacted to the alpha-ness inside him. His shifter body, the muscles that turned women on, the military bearing he carried from his time in the Army—all of it had an effect. He’d seen it in action too many times not to be aware of it. But this… this girl’s wide-eyed breathlessness… maybe it wasn’t just her first time with a shifter.
Maybe it was her first time ever.
That set his nerves on end. Partly because he hadn’t been with a virgin since he was one himself, and that was years ago. Partly because that blue-eyed innocence was working some kind of magic on his cock. His head and body were in a war with one another, one wanting to dive right into tasting her while the other wanted to hold back. Plus, this could still be a setup. She wasn’t a casual human looking for a casual fuck. Which pointed to obsession. Which might mean the hate group he was trying to trap.
The whole thing felt like rocky ground, but there was nothing to do but walk over it and test it out. “So that’s why you’re here—you want to know what it’s like to be with one of us.”
“Yes.” She let out a breath that was maybe relief.
He pulled her even closer.
Her eyes dilated, and her breathing picked up. The scent of her arousal surged over the fresh-washed clean-skin smell, no perfume but the lovely scent of her, that was also drawing him in. That finally convinced him to shove aside his suspicions and go for his original purpose—which was to take the delicious human bait of whoever was attempting to murder shifters by planting bombs in their cars.
Noah ran a finger slowly across Emily’s cheek. She closed her eyes with his touch and shuddered a little. He cupped her face with his hand and leaned in, close enough to kiss, but still not touching.
“You’re new to this, right?” he whispered.
She blinked open her eyes and nodded, quickly.
He pulled back a little to look in her eyes. “I’m going to say this straight out because there’s really not another way to ask.”
“Okay,” she breathed. It struck him that she actually was brave, in spite of the quaking. After all, she was alone in a room with a shifter. Compared to her, he was a dangerous thing. And that was without her even knowing the truth about his abilities or how fucked up he really was.
“You haven’t done this before,” he said softly.
“Right.” Her eyes were wide.
He paused for a second, then added, “I mean, you haven’t done this having sex thing before.”
Her eyes went even more wide, then she dropped her gaze to the floor. “No, I have.”
That wasn’t the answer he expected. “So you’re not a virgin?” At twenty-one or so, it wasn’t like it was impossible. Or unheard of.
She looked up, but just barely, almost like she couldn’t look him in the eye. “No.” Then nothing more.
The awkward silence was shoved aside by laughter from the guys in the surveillance van. Of course, Emily couldn’t hear it, but it still make him cringe.
Suddenly, her gaze was demanding. “Does that matter?”
He frowned. “No, I just wanted to make sure—”
She pulled back and wrapped her arms tight around her chest. “How do I know you’re even a wolf?” she demanded.
The question knocked him back. None of the others had asked—they were more than happy to climb up on his cock without proof he was a shifter, much less which kind. It wasn’t like they were looking to settle down and have half-breed shifter pups. Humans and shifters got it on, but they didn’t mate—at least, not often. And now, with the hate flames being fanned even more, the few intermarrying couples definitely kept that in the closet. He wasn’t mate material anyway, for shifters or humans. Female shifters were in short supply, and they usually went for the strongest alpha they could find, not genetic freaks like him. Besides, his own family proved that mating could be a curse as much as a blessing.
Noah struggled for something to say. “I guess… I could show you I’m a wolf.”
He fully expected that to drive her away completely.
Instead, her eyes lit up. “Really? You’d shift for me?”
He grimaced. This seemed… really unwise. Especially given the unusual nature of his wolf form these days. But her arousal scent was through the roof. He was definitely turning her on. And he needed to draw this thing out to give whoever might be planting a bomb time to do so.
“Sure,” he said, against his better judgment. He nearly turned the mic back on but decided against it. After all, this girl wasn’t capable of hurting him directly, even if she was setting him up. So, he held her gaze for a moment and then quickly shifted.
She gasped and both hands flew to her mouth, but she didn’t back away. He knew what she saw—a white, shaggy wolf with oversized fangs and crystal-blue eyes. He kept his claws sheathed because she didn’t need that nightmare in her head. This wasn’t the wolf he was born with… it was the result of experiments the government had done on him, bringing out somethi
ng that had been buried in his genetic code. The family secret. He hadn’t shifted for anyone since he’d taken that medical leave and gotten the hell out of Afghanistan. His cover story was that he came home to protect his family, the sprawling Wilding pack… but the truth was much more complicated.
Emily dropped her hands from her mouth and edged toward him, hand extended. “Can I touch you?” she asked, voice full of breathy excitement.
He dipped his head.
She ran one hand through the fur at the top of his head, then brought the other up as well. He leaned into her a little—her gentle massage actually felt pretty good.
“A white wolf,” she breathed. “So rare as to be almost legend. I can’t believe… of all the luck… wolves like you are said to be almost magical. Not the normal shifter magic, but more so. Like a cross with witches, perhaps in ancient times, before the paranormal creatures split up into different—”
He cut her off by nuzzling her arm, gently but enough to stop the history report. It was starting to freak him out.
She pulled back and looked directly into his eyes, her face only inches away. “You are so beautiful.”
Okay, that was enough. He shifted quickly, capturing her in his arms before she could back away. It took less than a fraction of a second and wrenched a gasp out of her, but by the time it was done, he was holding her in his arms and pulling her against his naked body.
“We usually prefer the term handsome,” he said with a smirk.
Then he kissed her.
Damn, she was soft—the dress, her silky blonde hair spilling over his hands, her lips melting under his. It took her a second, but then she was all over him in return—small hands clawing at his shoulders, tongue eager in his mouth, her skirt hiking up as she hitched one of those luscious legs over his bare hip, bringing her body even closer. He slipped a hand inside the soft silk of her dress and cupped her breast, moaning as he found her nipple already hard for him. His cock sat up and pressed into the infinite softness that was her body—and he was instantly aching to bury it in her for real.
