Rebecca's Wolves (Wolf Masters Book 6)

by Becca Jameson

  Her pussy clenched. She was close. Part of her hated for it to end. She wished she could stay in this state of suspended bliss for eternity.

  But it didn’t happen.

  She shattered. Every muscle in her ass and pussy gripped and pulsed around her men.

  They both slammed into her deep and held tight the moment she fell into tiny pieces, pulsing their own releases into her as they filled the room with what could only be described as animalistic sounds of release.

  She smiled.

  So good.

  So right.

  Hers.

  She was complete with them, she thought, as they all caught their breath.

  She collapsed on Miles’ chest, still gasping for air. “Don’t pull out,” she requested into both of their minds.

  Griffen remained on his knees between both her and Miles’ legs. It had to be hard for him to stay in that position, but she needed this for a few more minutes.

  The hell with the rest of the world and their staunch ideas of right and wrong. Fuck them. She would take this love and soak it up over anything else any day of the week.

  She would find a way to make this work. Permanently. If she couldn’t keep her job at the hospital, she’d get another one.

  That’s how determined and strong she felt now that she’d been fucked hard and reminded of her good fortune.

  She smiled against Miles’ chest and relaxed her body. “I’m good now,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Rebecca blinked her eyes open, unsure what had awoken her. After dinner and then round two last night, she hadn’t really gotten enough sleep to be awake. It was dark out, though she sensed it was early, not late.

  And then she realized what woke her.

  A phone buzzed on the night stand.

  Miles groaned. “What the fuck?” He must have sucked three more seconds of sleep out of the situation.

  Rebecca leaned over his enormous body and flattened her hand on the phone as it buzzed again. It was hers. “Hello?” she answered groggily.

  “Rebecca, thank God. It’s Marian. Two nurses called in sick. I know it’s your day off, but is there any chance…?” She kept talking. “I’m swamped here already. Seems every person in town is flooding the emergency room this morning.”

  Rebecca sat up straighter, aware of the cool air in the room wafting across her naked chest. She glanced at the clock. Five forty-five.

  Twelve hours ago she’d been raging against this hospital, but that wasn’t Marian’s fault. The woman was not the cause of Rebecca’s aggravation or her problems.

  Rebecca had a moral compass that set her into action. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

  “Bless you, hon.” Marian disconnected before Rebecca could say another word.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Miles asked the pillow, barely more awake than one minute ago.

  Rebecca climbed over his frame, kissing his back as she went.

  Griffen reached out a hand and snagged her ankle. He groaned. “Really, baby?”

  “Yep. Who’s taking me?”

  They both groaned.

  She snickered as she made her way across the room. “No worries. I can drive. I think I still remember how.”

  Two seconds later as she flipped on the shower, two men stood in the doorway.

  Twenty minutes later both men dropped her off. She rode to the hospital in between them in the front seat of Miles’ truck, and she kissed them both soundly one at a time before she got out. Fuck anyone who had issue with it. Let the hospital fire her.

  She walked into the emergency room to find total chaos. It was like a full moon or something.

  One thing that helped was that working kept her mind off the race she knew was about to start a few blocks away in downtown Cambridge. It smarted she wasn’t there at the starting line, but she tamped down her frustration and threw herself into her work.

  Two hours later, she flinched as the gun went off for the start of the race. She could hear it from the emergency room bay where she was helping unload a stretcher.

  And two minutes after that, all hell broke loose.

  •●•

  Miles groaned when his cell phone rang as he and Griffen returned to the condo. He pulled it out of his back pocket to find an emergency call coming from an elder in his pack, Randal Peaceman. “Shit.”

  “Everything okay?” Griffen asked.

  Apparently Randal had a horse in labor that wasn’t doing so well.

  Miles didn’t know Randal well. The man was older, perhaps in his eighties.

  Miles had always found the man to be a bit odd and rather reclusive, but he was raised to respect his elders, and he took that seriously. If the man had an animal in distress, Miles would not leave him high and dry.

  With this in mind, Miles pulled up to the condo and faced Griffen. “Gotta go see a man about a horse.” He grinned.

  Griffen chuckled. “How often do you use that line?”

  “In my job? Nearly every day.”

  “Well, check in and let me know if you need anything. Guess I’ll go back to bed.”

  Miles glared at Griffen. “Sure, you do that. The rest of us will make the big bucks.”

  “Riiight. Talk to me about that in the middle of ski season,” Griffen teased as he exited the truck. “Later.”

  Miles headed for the reservation as soon as Griffen shut the door.

  The last thing he wanted to do was drive forty-five minutes on not enough sleep, but that was his job.

  As the sun peeked over the horizon, he turned up the radio and slapped his knee to the music to keep himself awake and focused as he drove. He tried to dip into Rebecca’s mind a few times, but his mate was obviously swamped because she was not available for idle chitchat.

  When he pulled up and parked between Randal’s barn and his dilapidated house, he shut off the engine and watched as the older man emerged from the back of the house.

  “Bartel. Thanks for coming.” Peaceman didn’t make eye contact. In fact his brow was furrowed. That wasn’t unusual by itself. After all, the man was worried about his horse, and as far as Miles knew, Randal only had one horse.

  Miles approached Peaceman with an outstretched hand the older man ignored as he walked past him. It unnerved Miles a bit, and he pondered why the man had been in the house instead of the barn.

  Even more perplexing was the direction Miles’ thoughts went concerning the horse. If the man had only one horse, how did it get pregnant? And if Miles wasn’t mistaken, the horse Randal owned was not female. Plus, the guy lived way out from town, secluded. He didn’t have the personality or the financial wherewithal to arrange for a breeding.

  Hell, his house was falling off the frame. Miles twisted his neck to look back over his shoulder as he followed Randal. He cringed. It was a wonder the man had running water and electricity in that house. It was older than dirt. Why wasn’t anyone on the reservation keeping an eye on this man? He clearly needed more assistance than Miles could provide.

  Miles followed a silent Randal into the barn and continued at his rear until they reached the last stall. An empty stall.

  The barn was as quiet at its owner. There was no evidence of any animals at all.

  Miles furrowed his brow and reached one hand up to scratch his head, perplexed. “Randal, where’s your horse? I’m confused.” As he turned to face the older gentleman, he found himself backing up a step at the feral look in the man’s eyes and the growl he emitted.

  Then Randal lifted his hand so fast, Miles didn’t have a chance to wrap his brain around Peaceman’s intentions before the old guy jabbed a needle in Miles’ arm.

  Miles jerked back, but it was too late. “What the fuck?” Whatever had been in the syringe was already going to work. He lowered himself slowly toward the ground as his mind went blank and his limbs stopped functioning properly. “Shit. Randal? What the fuck?” he repeated, his words slurring.

  And then everything went black.