Fiery Moon

by Renee Jordan

  “They were quiet the last few months since Fiona's arrest.” A vicious grin crossed my face. I had fucked the bitch up. I would have killed her, but her curs interfered and she slipped away to go chase after Kotie. “Caused us a bunch of problems that night.”

  “I read.” He swallowed. “The report left out quite a lot.”

  “Like they were coyote shifters.” I shrugged. “Well, were we supposed to tell the truth? That would look great,” I sneered, “on a government report. 'Gang of werecoyotes fought werewolf deputies because they were working with a rogue witch.' We told an acceptable truth. Isn't that what you do?”

  The tiger shifter arched an eyebrow. “Basically. You said the Donovans were quiet. So they're not anymore?”

  “They're back in town. Caught a few at an illegal poker game this morning, drunk as a skunk. They're in holding last I knew. We haven't had any tips that they're planning anything more than their usual petty BS.”

  “Michael might change that.”

  He might,” I shrugged. “If he's even here. How sure are you that he is?”

  “The FBI is not sure. My fellow agents don't think he is dumb enough to flee to Moonrise a second time. Not after the last time he ran and we almost caught him here.”

  “But then he fled to New Mexico.”

  Shane swallowed. “Well, yes. He did. Which is why I had to go. You know, I had to get him. The lead was hot.”

  “So hot you left me sleeping in the hotel room without saying a fucking word?” Memory of waking up alone, the euphoria of our night of passion replaced by worry then anger.

  He winced. “I...I am sorry about that.”

  I snorted. “I thought you didn't want to talk about the past.”

  He swallowed and cleared his throat. “Okay, well, I think Michael is here. He's a coyote, which makes him a pack animal. You're a wolf shifter. If you were in trouble, where would you go?”

  To my mate. “To my pack.” I ignored my instincts. “To Forrest and the others.”

  “Exactly. Coyotes aren't much different than...”

  He trailed off as I growled, shooting him a warning look.

  “I mean, they are similar to wolf shifters, but not anywhere near the same. They are predisposed to laziness and vice. Not loyal and proud.”

  “Sucking up won't take away my anger or answer for what you did.”

  “It can't hurt.” And there was that grin. That cocky, confident, melt your panties grin.

  Fuck, why did he have to be so sexy? Why did his scent make my heart beat so fast? Why did I want to rip off his shirt and fuck him as hard as I fucked Ajax?

  Because I loved him. And I hated that.

  I wanted to drop my anger. I wanted to let him apologize, first with his words, then with his mouth on my body. I wanted to feel him atop me. I wanted to ride him and suck him and enjoy every bit of him. I wanted him to hold me, love me.

  But he couldn't. He was a tiger shifter. I never should have got involved with him. Going to the Lodge and the hotel on the “stakeout” were the biggest mistakes of my life. I should have listened to Macy. I shouldn't have been an idiot.

  And my only defense against getting hurt again when he left was to keep up my anger and ward off my instincts. I couldn't relax it. I had to keep it burning hot, a wall of fire keeping him back and protecting my heart. He was too much a coward to risk my heart getting trampled a second time.

  But it was so hard. And my thoughts kept intruding. Memories kept flooding back on the long drive back to Moonrise. He was in my car, talking, his scent filling my nose. My guilt at sleeping with another guy churned in my stomach.

  I felt so dirty for what I did with Ajax.

  “Our first job should be to stake out Becky Murphy if she's still around. He went to her last time. She helped get him down to Santa Fe. I heard she got out of prison last year for aiding and abetting him the last time.”

  “Bitches never learn,” I growled. “Always let their men back into their lives who cause problems.”

  Shane didn't say a word. My thoughts drifted to our last stakeout...

  Chapter Six

  Three years ago...

  I stared at the text message again and again: “Going undercover. Wear something nice. S.”

  My heart fluttered. For the last two weeks, Shane and I had been attached at the hip as we hunted down Michael. The bastard had vanished into the backwoods around Moonrise. We knew he was in town. The Donovans were hiding him.

  So we were hitting the Donovans hard, rolling up their gambling parlors, closing their mobile brothels, breaking up their black market cigarette sales. We hit their chop shops and raided every house and trailer associated with them, confiscating stolen goods and contraband.

  It was a busy time.

  But still no sign of Michael. We were pressuring Fiona, trying to get the she-bitch to cough up her brother. But, apparently, coyotes had enough wolf in them to know what loyalty meant. Shame they couldn't be like us in other ways.

  And during that time I had fucked Shane so much. We hooked up at every chance. On stakeouts, I would lean over and suck his cock, bobbing my mouth up and down as we sat in his new rental car, this time a Mustang. Then he would get out and I would lean back in my seat and let him go down on me. Other times, we met up in his hotel room and tore it apart.

  It should be illegal the things we did. There were no boundaries. Our bodies were open for each other's pleasure.

  My other booty calls were ignored. I couldn't get Shane out of my system. His spicy scent lingered on my skin. I loved to breathe it in when he wasn't around. I so wanted our relationship to be more, to let the imprint snap into place, to take him as my mate.

  But it was a fling. A hot fling. The best fling ever. But one day he would leave, head back to DC and the FBI. Michael would be caught or the coyote would skip town and Shane would have to go, too.

  But I didn't want him to. I wanted to hold onto him. He had to be the one. That was why I kept trying to imprint him. Macy cautioned me: “He'll leave you. Even if you imprint him.”

  “I could go with him. Work for the FBI.”

  She had given me a look. “You'd abandon your pack?”

  “For my mate.” I swallowed. “You would, too.”

  “Maybe. But that's not happening.” She sighed. “I think it's petering out with Forrest. We haven't dated in two weeks.”

  “It's just been busy with the raids.”

  “And meanwhile, you've had Shane three times a day despite that. I just have to admit it. The imprint's not happening. Our Alpha doesn't want me. I'm not his mate. I'm just...his fling.”

  Her words had made me squirm. I wanted to be more than Shane's fling, too. So I refused to give up and told her, “Keep at it. Make him wild for you. Do what I suggested. Be his slut. That's why Shane and I are fucking three times a day. We're wild together. The things we do...”

  “I can't. I'm not that type of wolf. I'm just not.”

  The conversation echoed through my head as I paused in front of the mirror. I had on a playful, blue dress, my blonde hair falling in bouncing curls about my bare shoulders. The dress fell down to my mid-thigh. I strapped my 9mm to my inner thigh. It felt strange there, but it was out of sight.

  Where were we going that we needed to dress up?

  I decided against wearing any perfume. Shane wouldn't need any artificial, strong scent to attract his interest. His nose was keen enough to smell my natural musk. Poor humans. It was so sad they had to wear perfumes and colognes. My friend Penny seemed to drench herself in it sometimes before we would go dancing and trolling for guys.

  I hadn't hung out with her in two weeks. But she understood when I sent her a pic of Shane.

  A car pulled into the parking lot. My apartment was a small room over Evelyn's Treasures, the town's boutique. It was where I bought this dress while young Connie, the fifteen-year-old daughter of Evelyn, giggled and clapped.

  “You're so beautiful,” she had gushed.


  I hoped Shane thought the same.

  The car honked three times. I smiled and grabbed a small, blue purse. It matched the dress. I made sure my extra magazines for my 9mm were inside, along with my lipstick. I closed the purse and slung it over my shoulder. My heels clicked.

  If I had to do any running, I would ditch those. But until then, they would make my ass and legs look killer.

  I locked my apartment and headed down the stairs. Shane lounged against the side of his crimson Mustang dressed in a black jacket and white shirt, the buttons open as usual, teasing me with the sight of his curly-black chest hairs. His spicy musk brushed my nose, tinged with his desire.

  He let out a purring growl. “Damn, Veronica, you know how to clean up.”

  I winked at him, my hips swaying as I walked around the car.

  “I bet you have every guy in Moonrise panting after you.”

  “Almost,” I answered as I yanked open the door. “You should see them line up when Penny and I go dancing. Mmm, they are all over us.”

  “Trying to make me jealous?”

  I opened my door and climbed into the passenger seat. He slipped into the driver's seat, his eyes reflecting golden-brown in the darkness. “Why should you be jealous of any of the men in Moonrise?”

  His cocky smile grew. “Good point.”

  The Mustang's engine growled as Shane drove us through Moonrise, heading for the highway that ran through town. He headed southeast, the Moonrise Roadhouse flashing past us. I raised an eye at him. “We're heading to Olson.”

  “Farther,” he answered.

  “Granite Hills?”

  “A little farther than that.”

  “That's quite the drive. This must be an important stakeout.”

  “So important.” His eyes glanced down at my thighs as he pushed the Mustang past seventy. The tiger's smile sent a flutter of heat through me.

  “And what business does Michael have in Missoula?”

  “Absolutely none.” His grin grew even cockier as he darted into oncoming traffic to pass a slow-moving semi. He let out a growl as he floored it. A car sped straight at us.

  My heart beat. I straightened in my seat, my wolf wanting to howl. Shane's scent stayed cool. No fear as he raced passed the semi. Headlights flashed. The oncoming car growing scared, fearing a collision. Shane cut over the wheel, diving the Mustang out of the way before we hit head-on.

  I couldn't help my smile. He was showing off, and I liked it. Life was only fun when you were wild.

  “So if we're not on a stakeout, does that mean you lied to me?”

  “Well, it was the easiest way to get you out on a date.”

  “Afraid I would say no?”

  “Not one bit.”

  “You just like playing games.”

  “That's what life is.” He reached down and patted my thigh. “A wild game. You never know where it will end up.”

  “So what are we doing in Missoula?”

  “Did you know that Montana has many wonderful spots to find gourmet dining?”

  “Not where I live. It's just greasy grills.”

  “Many chefs love the beauty of Montana.”

  I glanced out the window at the terrain flashing by—rugged mountains covered in beautiful pines, blue-gray boulders, sheer cliffs banded by layers of rock. So little human civilization ruining the natural world. “Yes, it is a gorgeous place.”

  “And in Missoula there is the Lodge, a fabulous restaurant combining French cuisine with Western sensibilities.”

  “So we'll get rocky mountain oysters in au jus?” I laughed.

  “Something like that.” His hand patted my thigh again.

  Heat ran up my leg. I let out a groan and purr. I pressed my thighs together as he stroked me. His smile grew as he inhaled. He could smell the tangy juices soaking my panties. Driving fast with a sexy man while dolled up was awakening my randy wolf.

  “Drive faster,” I moaned. “I'm hungry.”

  We were pulled over once, but I knew the cop and he let us go, a huge grin on his face as he saw me in my dress. I knew in fifteen minutes, every cop in Southwestern Montana would know about it. I didn't care.

  We entered Missoula as the sun set. I was salivating. Shane's bold driving and constant caresses of my thigh kept my pilot light burning. He pulled into the parking lot of the Lodge. It may be the fanciest restaurant in Montana, but that didn't mean there was valet parking like at a fancy restaurant in a big city. But it had charm. The Lodge looked dark and rustic from the outside.

  “I have heard of this place,” I admitted, licking my chops and salivating.

  “Good.” He climbed out and walked around the car, opening my door for me.

  I smiled as he helped me climb out. It was...nice. Yes, I could do all that for myself, but having a man want to help me was endearing. He wanted to please me. How could I not lean in and give him a hot, hungry kiss on the lips.

  To let him know I appreciated the effort.

  He offered me his arm, and we walked up to the door. The hostess—a beautiful, young lady with wavy-brown hair—glanced at Shane and her eyes lit up, color darkening her cheeks. He was a delicious man.

  And he was mine tonight.

  “Table for two,” he said. “Reserved under Chaudhri.”

  “Yes, yes. And you are right on time,” the girl gushed. “The bottle of champagne is waiting, just as you requested, Mr. Chaudhri.”

  “Shane,” he said in a casual manner.

  “Champagne? Now you're trying to get me drunk.”

  “Not trying,” he grinned. “I'm going to succeed.”

  I gave a wicked laugh as we were led through the restaurant. The walls were dark-stained wood paneling. The heads of deer and elk, all with impressive racks of antlers, dotted the wall. It had a rustic, Western feel. Our table was covered in an elegant, white cloth, a candle burning in a glass dish at the center of the place settings. The lighting was perfect to give the air of privacy.

  Perfect for lovers.

  Shane held my chair for me. I never had a guy do that. I gave him a smile, and the one he returned made my heart flutter. No man should have a face that beautiful. Especially not with a smile that perfect. I drew in a deep breath and his eyes flicked to my cleavage.

  I'm glad he noticed. There was no point in getting dressed up if no one paid attention to how beautiful you looked or how great the dress made your ass and tits appear.

  “You are a radiant creature,” he said as he sat down across from me. The candlelight flickered on his face.

  “You should have come to Montana earlier.”

  He laughed. “Thank god for fleeing drug lords.”

  “Are you, a Federal Agent, thankful for crime?” I arched an eyebrow.

  “When it leads me to such a beauty as you, absolutely.”

  “You are getting so lucky tonight,” I purred.

  “Good, I'd hate to think the hotel room I booked would go to waste.”

  “So confident.” I licked my lips then slipped off my heel from my right foot. “You just think you're going to part my thighs and make me howl at the moon for you.”

  “Absolutely.”

  I extended my foot and rubbed it against his leg. “I think you're right. I'm eager to howl.”

  The waitress appeared, doing her, “Hi, I'll be your server tonight,” shtick. I let Shane order as my foot slid higher and higher up his leg. I passed his knee as he glanced at the menu, a smile on his lips. I grinned and pushed my foot down his thigh, reaching for his crotch.

  How would he react when I reached his cock?

  “What do you recommend?” Shane asked the waitress, his voice even, not betraying a hint of the excitement billowing through his scent as my leg extended, sliding up his thigh. I reached his crotch. He was hard.

  I rubbed.

  “The salmon is excellent,” the waitress answered. “It's fresh, flown in from Alaska overnight. Caught yesterday. And the chef has this amazing sauce that goes with it. Brings ou
t the flavor and makes it melt in your mouth.”

  “Mmm, I love melting,” I purred as I rubbed on Shane's cock.

  He throbbed beneath me. “I am aware of that,” he grinned at me. “The salmon for me. Always partial to fish. And you?”

  “Prime rib,” I purred. “Bloody.” I rubbed harder on Shane.

  “That sounds perfect,” he said, his voice calm. You wouldn't know a sexy lady stroked his cock at all. “And we need appetizers.”

  “Yes,” I moaned. “I need something to tide me over until the main course.” I winked at him.

  “I bet you do.” He arched an eyebrow. “Something tantalizing.”

  “Tantalizing?” the waitress frowned.

  “And stimulating,” I purred, my pussy so wet. I squirmed as I stroked his cock with the sole of my foot. He was so hard. I wanted him in me now. But that would have to wait until after dinner.

  “Stimulating...” The waitress looked back and forth at us. “Oh.” Her cheeks blushed. “I...well, the rocky mountain oysters are believed to be very...stimulating.”

  Shane's smile grew. Did he even know what they were? Would he have the balls to order them? I giggled in my mind at my joke.

  “Those sound perfect to make sure we have a...stimulating evening.” He licked his lips. “I need to keep her satiated.”

  “And I'm so hard to please,” I moaned. “It takes a lot of effort.”

  “But it is so worth it.”

  His hand moved beneath the table and he stroked my foot from the tip of my big toe to my ankle. Sensations fluttered up my thighs. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes. So worth it.”

  “Okay,” the waitress said, her cheeks burning.

  She poured our champagne, gathered the menus, and left. Shane took his glass in his free hand, the other sliding up to stroke my shaved calf. I sucked in a deep breath, my nipples aching in my bra and my pussy demanding attention right this second.

  “To a stimulating evening.”

  I lifted my glass, and they clinked together. “Oh, it will be.”

  I sipped the bubbly drink.

  Chapter Seven

  The present...