by Leah Brooke
Before she knew it, they’d tucked her beside a large tree and released her.
The sounds of scuffle in the distance filled her with dread.
“Oh, my God. He’s got a gun. The last time, he shot James in the head. We have to go back there.”
“We’re going. You be still and stay right here.”
Recognizing Joe’s voice, she automatically reached out for him, startled when the skin she encountered changed back to fur beneath her hand. A second later, Joe and Vincent, as panthers, took off at breakneck speed, running in the direction they’d just come from.
She sank to her knees beside the tree, alarmed when she no longer heard anything.
“This is not happening.”
She jumped, gasping as the sound of another gunshot rang out, and then another.
Motionless, she listened for any sound that would give her a clue as to what had happened, but heard nothing. Hoping with each passing second that Marc or James, or even Joe or Vincent, would come back, she gripped the tree trunk and slowly came to her feet.
When several minutes went by and she heard nothing, she knew she couldn’t stand it any longer. With her nerves stretched to the breaking point, she ventured forward, nearly tripping over one of the large roots. Wiping her stinging eyes, she kept going, desperate to get to Marc and James.
Oh, God. If anything happened to them, she didn’t know what she would do. How could she have fallen so hard for them in such a short time?
They understood her. They accepted her for what she was.
As she accepted them.
Holy hell, she’d tied her fate to shape-shifters!
They’d somehow plowed through her defenses and stolen her heart, making her need them, for God’s sake. She sure as hell had no plans to lose them now.
Moving cautiously through the woods, she held out her arms, her breathing coming in sharp pants as she tried to find her way back to the bar.
She had to get to them. Nothing else mattered.
They’d been moving so fast, with lots of turns, but she thought she knew the general direction they’d come from.
As she made her way through the trees, it didn’t take long before she lost her sense of direction completely.
Looking up to the sky didn’t help. What little bit of sky she could see through the treetops had become dark with clouds, the impending storm blocking out the moon and the stars and leaving nothing but blackness.
Her breath caught, and she found herself blinking, the darkness as complete as if she’d had her eyes closed.
Trying to push back memories of the night she’d been attacked, she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ignore the cold.
Surely, Marc and James would find her. They said they could smell her, after all, and they’d found her that night in the woods when she’d been over a mile away.
She would wait for them. They’d be here before long and give her crap for moving.
She stopped again, listening intently for any sound that would tell her they were coming for her, holding on to a fairly large tree trunk and peeking around it in all directions.
She couldn’t believe it was so dark. And cold. Her thin sweater didn’t do much against the chill in the air, and her shivering got even worse.
The snap of a twig had her spinning around, her heart beating nearly out of her chest as she scanned the woods for any sign of movement.
Holding her breath, she waited for Marc or James to call out to her, but nothing happened. Biting her lip, she scanned the darkness, but couldn’t see a damned thing.
Suddenly, the beam of a flashlight appeared, a faint light pointed toward the ground, one that disappeared almost immediately.
Neither Marc nor James would have any need for a flashlight.
With slow, careful steps, she made her way around the tree, plastering her back to the other side. Her senses sharpened, the adrenaline and absolute darkness making her acutely aware of everything around her.
The urge to run grew strong, but remembering what happened the last time, she fought every instinct and forced herself to remain still.
Another twig snapped, this time a little closer than before.
Who the hell was out there?
Out of nowhere, she felt it.
A warm, strong essence seemed to wrap itself around her. Recognizing it immediately, she let it wash over her, her insides settling in slow increments.
She smiled in the darkness, absorbing the delicious feeling of having Marc and James close by. They approached from in front of her, not making a sound, while from behind, she still heard the occasional snap of twigs or the unmistakable sound of dry leaves crunching.
She didn’t understand how Marc and James could approach so silently, but it meant that the others could do so, too.
She didn’t know who approached from behind, but she knew it couldn’t be one of them. If she heard the unknown threat, they would, too.
Keeping her breathing slow and even, she listened for Marc and James, waiting expectantly for them to appear. She jumped at another noise from behind her, one that sounded as though someone had fallen.
Between one breath and the next, she found herself tugged against a hard chest, strong arms wrapping around her like steel bands and pulling her close.
James.
Relief had her slumping against him, holding on to him for several long seconds before grabbing him tightly, her fear for both of them making it hard to breathe.
“Thank God. Are you okay? I heard gunshots. Where’s Marc?”
She stilled when she heard the unmistakable sound of a fist connecting and a body falling.
James chuckled softly. “There he is.”
“Fuck. Freeze, damn it!”
Brown?
James stiffened, pulling her even closer.
Bailey poked her head out just in time to see the flashlight beam illuminate Officer Brown’s angry face.
Holding up a hand to shield his eyes, Brown used the other to reach for his gun.
“I wouldn’t, Brown.”
Marc’s deep voice came out of the darkness, cold and full of venom. “What the hell are you doing out here stalking Bailey?”
Brown stilled, moving his hand away from his gun. “I’m not stalking her! I swear, I ought to arrest you for hitting me. I got a call that there was trouble out here and came to check it out. Then I heard shots. Who the hell did you shoot?”
“I didn’t shoot anybody, but you’ve got those kids you let get away the other night lying over there waiting for you. They were the ones shooting.”
He grabbed the flashlight from Marc, but Bailey knew he’d been able to do so only because Marc allowed it.
“You’ve caused me nothing but trouble ever since I came to work in this town.”
Marc placed himself between Brown and where James kept her hidden.
“Funny, Brown. I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
Chapter Seventeen
Bailey dropped facedown on the bed, crying out when a hand landed hard on her bottom.
“Hey!”
She spun in time to see Marc toss a handful of her socks into one of the cardboard boxes she hadn’t thrown away yet.
Sitting up, she watched them toss her clothes into the boxes she’d finally managed to empty.
“What are you doing?”
James came out of her small closet with the meager contents and tossed them into a box.
“Brown’s up to something, and he was in a hell of a hurry to get rid of us. He didn’t ask enough questions and seemed really pissed once he found out the identities of the men we’d tied up.”
The urgency in his tone and in their hurried packing had a surge of adrenaline rushing through her veins.
“What do you think he’s up to? What are you going to do?”
Marc lifted a box onto his shoulder and grabbed another.
“I have no idea, but he’s acting worse than he did a few weeks ago. We’re going to go
check out the woods and see if we can find anything. Something’s going on in there, and I haven’t been going out there as often as I did before.”
Pausing in his packing, he bent over her and took her mouth in a hard kiss, one full of possession.
“For one reason or another, I’ve been busy.”
“You’re not trying to blame this on me, are you?” Bailey scrambled from the bed, grabbing Marc’s arm as he turned and started packing another box. “I didn’t make you come over every night. Whatever happened to wanting to run free and needing your space?”
Marc dropped the handful of panties he’d just gathered into the box and turned back to her, lifting her with an arm around the waist.
“Freedom doesn’t seem as important to me as it once did.”
His eyes darkened and narrowed in a look she’d already come to recognize and one that always made her heart beat faster.
“And I don’t want any space without you in it.”
James came up behind her, nudging her toward the door with a firm hand on her hip.
“Neither one of us do. Let’s get you moved into Marc’s house and see if we can talk you into staying there.”
* * * *
Strolling around Marc’s masculine, but elegant living room, Bailey turned away from the embarrassing sight of the stack of beat-up cardboard boxes in the corner and eyed Dane and Graham, who stared out into the night. They’d been quiet and withdrawn ever since they’d hustled her into their truck and then into Marc’s house with a speed and efficiency that left her stunned and impressed, but still a little uncomfortable.
Even though neither one of them looked at her, she could feel their attention, sense their disapproval.
It hurt her more than it should have. After all, she’d had a lifetime filled with people who didn’t approve of her for one reason or another, and she’d long ago developed a thick skin.
Developing a thick skin meant that nothing could hurt her anymore.
Suddenly, Graham turned.
“I’ll take your things into the bedroom so you can unpack. You’re worried, and it’ll give you something to do until the others get back.”
“Why would you care?”
Bailey picked up one of the boxes and headed for the bedroom, determined to stay there until Marc and James came back.
“Excuse me?”
Slamming the box down, she spun to face Graham, who’d followed her into the bedroom.
“Look, you don’t like me. I get it. Get out.”
Graham dropped the box he was holding and sighed, rubbing his forehead. His growled curses sounded so much like the ones she’d heard from Marc and James that she smiled reluctantly.
Meeting her eyes, he sat at the edge of the bed.
“I know you won’t believe this, but I don’t dislike you. None of us do, but we do have reservations. That’s not your fault.”
Swallowing the hurt, she shrugged and started unpacking the box at her feet, tossing clothing haphazardly onto the bed.
“Of course you’d have reservations. I’m not exactly the kind of woman you’d want your friends to get mixed up with. No family. I run a bar. I used to work as a cocktail waitress. I’m sure you wanted someone sweet and innocent—”
“Leland and Joe’s mate is innocent and sweet, and it didn’t make a hell of a lot of difference.”
The snap of anger and impatience in his tone appeared to surprise both of them.
Staring at each other across the room, Graham grimaced and glanced toward the window.
“They’re back.”
Turning away, he paused at the bedroom door.
“We don’t hate you, Bailey. Some of us are just worried. This has never happened to any of us before, and now Leland and Joe are miserable and you seem to be trying to keep Marc and James at a distance. I know we’re not easy to love, but I don’t want to see Marc and James end up as unhappy as Joe and Leland are.”
Bailey blinked.
“Neither do I. Why the hell do you think I’m trying to keep some distance? Don’t you realize how much they’re going to regret getting mixed up with me once all that”—she waved her hand, unable to put the intense sexual desire she had for both of them into words—“stuff fades and they realize they got stuck with me because they liked the way I smell?”
“Is that what you think?” Graham reached her in two strides, grabbing her by the shoulders and lifting her to her toes.
“It doesn’t work like that, Bailey. It’s much more complicated than that. Don’t you realize what Marc and James would do to keep you? To protect you?”
“Get your fucking hands off her.”
Bailey froze, Marc’s deep menacing growl coming from the doorway sending chills up her spine. Gulping, she watched in alarm as Graham took his hands from her and held them out in surrender.
Turning her head, she encountered the angriest glare she ever had before, the intensity of it holding her attention for several heart-stopping seconds before she even noticed that Marc stood there, totally naked, erect, and with his fists clenched against his sides.
His cock stood out from his body, hard and threatening, the large purplish head already glistening.
She had no idea what Marc would do under the circumstances. She only knew that the animal side of him rose to the surface, showing more of the wild panther than she’d ever seen before.
She couldn’t deny that it scared her more than just a little, and she found herself thankful for Graham’s presence.
Meeting her gaze, he smiled faintly, his eyes lit with understanding.
“Now do you see what I mean? I’ve been friends with Marc my entire life, and yet he’s ready to kill me just for touching your shoulders.”
Bailey turned her head, another shiver going through her when she saw the look of deadly intent on Marc’s face. Knowing she had to get him calmed down, she started to step between the two men, coming to a halt when Graham nudged her aside.
“Marc, I—”
Graham shook his head, never taking his eyes from Marc’s. “Don’t get between us.” With his hands on his hips, he faced an enraged Marc. “Marc knows I would never make a move on any woman he was with, but especially not his mate. He knows that, and yet look at him.”
In a show of bravery—or stupidity—he turned his back to his friend, and took her by the arms again.
“Do you see how much he loves you? Do you have any idea how close we all are, and yet he’s willing to kill one of his family for you? If you turn away from him, he’ll be as unhappy as Leland and Joe are. So would James. Now can you see why we’re all worried?”
Bailey jumped as Marc flew across the room and grabbed her arm, pulling her away from Graham. Stunned by what the other man had told her, she searched Marc’s features.
Her heart pounded nearly out of her chest, at Marc’s nearness, at the feel of his hard body pressed against hers, and more than anything—at the rage and possessiveness on his face.
Hiding her apprehension, she went on the attack.
“I think you’re mistaken. Marc feels the same way I do. Neither one of us likes our decisions made for us. He’d better stop this bullshit before he gets himself a nice kick in the balls.”
Marc’s eyes narrowed dangerously, his hands tightening on her waist and pulling her closer while lifting her to her toes, until the heat of his body covered the front of hers.
“I realized that falling in love is not something a man can decide anyway. It just is. You’re mine, Bailey. Make no mistake about that.”
Bailey heard a soft chuckle from behind her and the unmistakable sound of the door closing.
“Marc, I—”
“Don’t.” His clipped tone and clenched jaw told her his control had reached a breaking point. “After seeing another man touch you, I have the uncontrollable urge to claim you as my mate and let you know in no uncertain terms that you belong to me. If you try to deny what I can see in your eyes out of some irrational need to put some dista
nce between us or pretend you don’t love me, I swear to God, I’ll turn you over my knee and paddle your ass before I take it.”
God, she wanted him, man, panther, and all. She wanted the emotion she saw burning in his eyes just as much as she wanted the wild, primitive hunger sharpening them and making them go dark with arousal.
She’d never needed those three magic little words before—never wanted them—but now she found she desperately needed to hear “I love you” from Marc, just as much as she needed him to take her with all the passion his eyes promised.
“I hate being needy.”
Frowning at the pout in her tone, she looked up at Marc through her lashes, narrowing her eyes at his satisfied smile.
“What are you smiling at?”
Cupping her cheek, he tangled a hand in her hair and lowered his head, his eyes possessive and promising pleasure to come.
“You’re cute when you pout.”
Pressing against him, she moaned, wrapping her legs around him when his hands went to her bottom and he lifted her.
“I’m not cute as I don’t pout. Fuck it. I don’t need a damned thing from you.”
Marc’s face hardened again, his eyes slits of glittering need that she wanted with alarming desire.
“I’m about to change your mind about that.”
He had her stripped and facedown on the bed in seconds. Lacing his fingers with hers, he scraped his teeth over her shoulder, the low growl in his tone when he spoke to her sending shivers of awareness racing through her.
“You know what I want, don’t you?”
Using his powerful thighs, he pushed her knees outward and nudged her bottom hole with his thick cock, leaving her in no doubt as to his intentions.
Her puckered opening already tingled, both openings clenching with the need to be filled. Her clit throbbed as it swelled, but with the position Marc placed her in, she had nothing to rub it against.
“Marc! Oh, God.”
He nipped the sensitive place between her neck and shoulder, his growl carrying more of a threat than ever.
“I’m going to take this tight ass. Tonight, my love, you’re going to give me your ultimate submission.”
