by Anne Marsh
“Got it.” I appreciate his concern, and I truly have no desire to pay the Breed a visit, but some things need to be clear between us. “Do you know where I grew up?”
He leans back into my touch. “From the sounds of you? Somewhere west coast.”
“You’re good. You want to get more specific?”
He shrugs. “You got a point to make, go ahead and make it. Luc, he’s goin’ to be back soon.”
“I grew up in a Sacramento trailer park, me, my parents and a double-wide. Plenty of our neighbors were doing the best they could, but some of us were undereducated and underambitious. Join a gang, take a shortcut. Bad luck, hard times, you name it and it happened there. Hitting and yelling were stock in trade.”
His reaction is immediate. “You get hit?”
“It doesn’t matter now. I’m just saying that I’ve seen plenty. I’m not little Miss Sweet and Innocent. You don’t have to protect me.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not about havin’ to do anything. It’s about wantin’ to do it. The difference is Grand Canyon-sized, boo.”
Some of my childhood neighbors were genuinely content with a cold six-pack on the weekends and a lawn chair. I wish I could be like that, happy with the simple things in life and a Walmart trip, but I’m competitive and I have the J.D. and the house to prove it. Spending these last few nights with Luc was eye-opening. I’m not ready to go bayou, but… I can see the appeal of dialing it back, enjoying the company and the ride, rather than driving hell for leather toward the destination.
“Those guys, they were human wolves. Plenty of teeth and weapons. So I’ve seen plenty, been hit plenty. This neighborhood was my safe bet.”
“Luc and I, we’ll make it safe.” He raises his hand and covers mine.
He’s talking about us as an item, as if what had happened last night will happen again. And then again. Part of me wants that. The other part of me is flat-out scared by the possibility.
Luc emerges from the house. “House is clear. Come on in.”
Cruz steps away from the door, opening it and handing me down like he’s my very own white knight. As I follow him into the house, all sorts of possibilities flash through her head. He’s not Luc. He’s Cruz. Two different males, both worthy.
Two weeks to decide between them.
Right now, however, taking down a werewolf biker gang tops my agenda. I drop onto a couch, gesturing for the others to follow suit.
“You don’ wan’ to head on up and get your things?” The note in Luc’s voice is pure command. Thing is, that doesn’t work on me, and we both knew it. I might have promised to follow his lead—but that’s only in bed. And only for seven nights. All I have to do is avoid a mattress, and he has no leverage.
“In a moment. See, the thing is… I’m thinking that the minute I go upstairs and do the little lady thing, grab a suitcase and pack my things, you all are going to plan a takedown of the Breed while I’ve stepped out of the room.”
Dre gives a rough bark of laughter. “Shit, Luc. You’re not keepin’ her out of this.”
Right. Now, see? That’s the problem right there. My wolves keep thinking I need to be bubble-wrapped and kept safe. Or kept in general.
“I’m part of this,” I say. “On so many levels. It’s my case. It’s my life. Hell, you’re sitting in my house. If anything, that puts me in charge. I’m not stepping out or heading to the kitchen to fix canapés and my makeup while you all make the decisions in here.”
“We could make them somewhere else,” Luc drawls.
“Try it,” I suggest, and Landry winces.
Cruz nods, as if nothing that comes out of my mouth surprises him. “We don’ know where their leadership holed up this week. We can pick off the low-level wolves, but we need to get at the leadership. I got a wolf on the inside. He’s gatherin’ intel, and I don’ wan’ us to go bustin’ in there, puttin’ him in any kind of jeopardy. He’s learnin’ stuff about the operation.”
Luc’s not done, however. “So give me options. Can your boy give us directions? IDs? Draw these guys out into the open?”
Cruz shakes his head. “He can’ help us with this one. Give another month, and the answer becomes a maybe. For now though, he can’t afford to blow his cover.”
“Use me.”
Four pairs of wolf eyes slew toward me, expressing incredulity. Yeah. It’s not my favorite option either. If another viable option pops into my head, I’ll be on board with it. It seems, however, like we’re all agreed that the Breed needs stopping—and that means drawing the riders out into the open. I’m not much of a hunter, but even I’m familiar with the concept of bait.
“If the Breed want me, let them come get me. Put a tracker on me and follow.”
And… cue the shit storm. For the next ten minutes, we discuss my suggested plan of action. Or, rather, the guys storm, bellow, and then do more yelling. Eventually though, they run out of both volume and counterarguments. They can put a wire and a wolf on my ass and follow me. Or they can wait for the Breed to make a move. Both options involve me.
“What guarantee do I have that we don’ lose her—or the Breed doesn’t pop her on sight”?
Cruz doesn’t move. “If she’s in any danger, my boy will act. That I can guarantee.”
“How sure are you of that?” Luc glares at Cruz.
“I’d bet her life on it. You think I like it? You think I wan’ to send her in there? No way in hell. But the Breed will keep gunnin’ for her. We blink one day, slip up, and we lose her. That’s not a risk I can accept, so I’m votin’ to neutralize the threat right now.”
“Fuck.” Luc shoves to his feet. “I don’ like this.”
Everyone turns and looks at me. Yeah, volunteering to be human bait isn’t my first choice either. But I want this to be over.
“I’m in,” I announce.
“Are you okay with it?” Cruz examines my face like somehow something there will give him a clue as to what I’m really thinking. And the God’s honest truth is that I don’t know what to think.
“Some things are worth standing up for. This was my case, is my problem. I’ll take care of it.”
“Not alone.” Luc is adamant. “You’ve got me.”
Cruz opens his mouth, as if he wants to join in the volunteer game. I can only imagine how Luc will react to that. Last night was out-of-this-world fantastic on the sexual Richter scale, but it was also a one-off. No matter what my private fantasies are, I’m not volunteering to be the rope in a game of tug-of-war between two Alphas.
“Gianna?”
“I’ve got this.” Never mind that I actually feel quite the opposite. I have a living room full of werewolves, but I’ve never felt so alone. Funny how that works. I want to walk over and throw myself into the arms of Luc. Or Cruz. And preferably both of them together. I’m not supposed to want that, am I?
“We,” Luc repeats. His eyes latch onto mine, his shoulders stiffening. “We’ve got this. Don’ shut me out.”
“We’ve got seven nights.” Things are not as simple as Luc makes them sound. Given the man’s fixation with mating, he probably figures the sexual chemistry between us is enough to fix whatever’s wrong.
He strides away, taking me with him. In a matter of seconds, we’re alone in my powder room, he has me on the sink, and his hands cup my ass.
CRUZ
There’s no mistaking the rhythmic pounding sound for anything other than what it is. Luc is on the other side of that door, driving himself deep into Gianna’s willing body. And she’s definitely willing. She practically yanked Luc into her pretty little powder room, leaving me outside to stand guard. There isn’t room for three in more ways than one.
Which leaves me standing out here.
Dre and Landry prowl around the room, checking entrances and exits. Both males pretend they have absolutely no clue about what’s happening in that bathroom, but Jesus Christ, Gianna makes that soft mewling sound I love, half whimper, half demand. She does that right before s
he comes. I bet her nails are biting hard into Luc’s shoulders, her heels banging into the small of the man’s back. She doesn’t always want it soft and slow.
Or quiet.
Shit.
“I’m out of here.” I need to leave, otherwise I’ll be through that door, pulling Luc off Gianna, so I can take the other male’s place. This isn’t about two Alphas duking it out over a female. This is about Gianna and her choices. As much as I want to be the male in there with her, she calls the shots. I simply have to find a way to accept her decision.
I open the french doors and step out into Gianna’s garden. It probably has all the perquisite flowers and decorative doodads, but right now all that interests me is space and some fresh air. Or maybe I can just bang my head against the wall and put myself out of our misery. So I shared Gianna one night. With Luc. She was curious about a threesome, and I was happy to indulge her. It’s my problem that neither my head nor my heart can accept that our night was a one-time deal.
The french doors open and close as Landry joins the pity party in the garden. Landry is a dark-eyed, broad-shouldered Cajun with shoulder-length hair clubbed back from his face. This particular Breaux brother also earned one hell of a reputation with the ladies before he settled down recently with a bayou boat captain. Based on the awkward-ass family dinners Riley has subjected everyone to, he’s also sharing a female with Dre. So shit, maybe the male can shed some light on what’s doing with Luc, Gianna, and me.
Landry picks a spot on the wall next to me and leans back. “You hangin’ in there, my man?”
Nope. Talking about the mess that is my dating life won’t make me feel better at all. I’d rather have open-heart surgery without an anesthesiologist on call. My odds of passing out and missing the main event are higher.
“What do you think?” My voice sounds cheese-grater rough.
“Oui. Being on the wrong side of the door sucks the big one.”
I nod like I’m a bobblehead. No disagreement from me there. “I was—”
Great. I’m incoherent. How much do I share with Landry, and when the hell did I become the kind of guy who shares about his feelings and doings? What happened between me, Luc, and Gianna is private. I don’t trot it out as conversational fodder.
“Been there.” Apparently Landry speaks cryptic just fine. “Me and Dre, it took some time to work out things with our Mary Jane. Hell, we’re still working on it. Come back in fifty years, and maybe we’ll have ironed out all the bumps in the road.”
“Did you”—I clear my throat because the frog in it is dinosaur-sized—“just know from the start that it would be the three of you?”
Landry shrugs, keeping his eyes on the garden. “We’ve always shared, so lovin’ Mary Jane together didn’t surprise us.”
I’m one hundred percent certain that long-term sharing forms no part of Luc’s plans. Hell, if I’m honest, I don’t want to share either. I want Gianna for myself.
“We shocked the hell out of Mary Jane.” The smile tugging at Landry’s mouth says the shocking is a good memory. “She hadn’t thought about takin’ on one of us, let alone two. Most females, they grow up thinkin’ they got to pick just one and that there’s somethin’ wrong with them if they’d like two at a time.”
“There’s nothin’ wrong with Gianna.” My hands curl into fists. No one gets to make Gianna feel bad about her choices. Not on my watch.
“Nope. She’ll do what’s right for her. The question is: what do you want?”
I make a rough noise. No way I think up a sexual wish list and share it with Landry.
“Not that.” Amusement colors Landry’s voice, and I once again debate the pros and cons of popping the other man. “Do you want to be with her if it means sharing with Luc, or is that even somethin’ you can do?”
I death stare a white rose bush. I respect Luc. Hell, under other circumstances, I’d like the male. My feelings aren’t sexual, however. Nope. They’re all about Gianna and giving her what she needs. But if she needs Luc in her life, can I give her that too? I honestly don’t know.
“She promised me a week.” Where does that come from?
Landry whistles. “That’s goin’ to cause problems.”
“Tell me about it.” Luc is certain Gianna is his blue moon bride, and all evidence certainly points to it.
“You goin’ to hold her to it?”
“I sure want to. I want my chance.”
“Uh-huh.” Landry is silent for a moment. “Luc won’ like it, but I’d tell him the same thing I told you. If Gianna wants you both, can he be sharin’?”
Gianna’s cat rubs around my ankles, like that male is also on my side. Or maybe it just admires my prowess at popping the tops on the cat food cans. I’ll take the company where I can find it, so I scoop the cat up in my arms and let the animal head butt me.
“You think they’re done yet?”
Landry sighs. “A man can hope, right?”
GIANNA
Holy. Wow.
My man knows how to love me. The number Luc does on me in my bathroom is out-of-this-world good. My panties may be trashed, but my whole body has that boneless feel. I have the pink cheeks to go with the happier sensations too, because I wasn’t quiet at the end. At all.
Luc pulls out and brushes a kiss over top of my head. Yeah. Time to go back out and face the rest of his pack. And Cruz. Because… I dragged Luc in here, or he dragged me, and we went at it while Cruz was out there.
“We should—” Stop having wild monkey sex in my bathroom? See what the others were up to? I have no idea how to finish that sentence.
He lifts me off the sink and sets me on my feet. My yoga pants are down around my thighs, my T-shirt pushed up, and my bra unhooked. I qualify as a hot mess. Too bad rearranging my clothes won’t fix the screwed-up mess of feelings inside me.
“Oui.” He doesn’t say anything more.
Awkwardly I tug my pants up. The move earns me zero points in the dignified department, but I can still feel that sexy pulse deep inside. I don’t have to look in the mirror to know that I’m blushing. I look anyhow. Tomato soup has nothing on me in the color department.
“Turn around,” Luc says gruffly. When I do, he hooks my bra for me, fingers brushing against my skin. I want him to say something more, although I have no idea what.
“They’re all going to know,” I say finally. I don’t even bother making it a question.
“Uh-huh. That bother you?”
Yeah, as if I can stroll on out there, and pretend that nothing happened in my powder room. Just a little hand-washing action or maybe I needed Luc to check a light bulb. Nope. If the pink in my cheeks and my crazy hair aren’t sufficient evidence, Luc’s scent is all over me. Plus I just moaned and screamed my way through a very satisfying orgasm. Even if we shut the door, the walls aren’t soundproof.
Everyone knows.
Including Cruz.
I have no idea what to do about Cruz. I had hot, crazy, spontaneous sex with Luc—the man I spent years thinking I might be married to—but now I’m thinking about Cruz? Sure, he joined me and Luc in bed, but that was a one-shot deal. It was a checkbox marked on my sexual fantasy list, and Luc has in no way indicated that he’s jonesing for a repeat.
That’s my problem. I want to yank Cruz off somewhere private and give him equal time, but that’s not part of Luc’s plans. I can’t kid myself. Luc is an Alpha wolf and possessive. Asking him to share nicely with Cruz isn’t an option. Cruz is also an Alpha, and he doesn’t seem like he’s any more into long-term sharing than Luc.
So that leaves me… staring at the wallpaper in my bathroom.
I push open the door. Luc didn’t even bother locking it. To my intense relief, my living room holds just the one wolf: Dre. Good times. Dre isn’t much for speaking, although I’ve seen firsthand what a vicious fighter he is. I try—and once again fail—to imagine him sharing a bed with Landry and Mary Jane. He probably won’t judge me for thinking about Cruz, unless pack loyalty tru
mps sexual attraction?
God. Just thinking about it makes my head hurt. My mess has no magic solution.
“I’m going upstairs to grab some things.”
I scan the room one last time, but turn up no sign of Landry or Cruz. That’s a probably a good thing but… hell… the last thing I want to do is run off Cruz. I still have that fantasy of him sticking around and finding a way to work this thing out with Luc. Right. As if they can timeshare me like a condo on the beach. I don’t want to split my time between them—I want to spend it all with both of them.
“Cruz and Landry are outside,” Dre volunteers, clearly taking note of my interest. So much for being casual.
Luc steps out of the bathroom, buttoning his jeans. Not so subtle.
“I’ll stay with Gianna,” is all he says.
Tired of trying to sort things out, I hightail it up the stairs for my bedroom. Luc follows, looking impossibly out of place in all the pink and gold I decorated the room with. He takes up a position by the floor-to-ceiling windows looking over the garden. His Glock peeks over the waistband of his jeans because he’s come armed with an arsenal. A fighter to the core, he radiates power and dominance.
When I knock a book off the bedside table, I jump, nerves getting the better of me. Being alone with him in a bedroom isn’t helping either, although he seems more interested in my perimeter defenses than my body. No ego boost there.
“You got somethin’ to say, say it.” Satisfied with whatever he sees outside my window, he leans against the frame, arms folded over his chest, while he waits for my response.
I have plenty of thoughts tumbling around in my head, but putting them into some sort of coherent sequence? So not happening right now. Still, one thought sticks out.
“You don’t think we should have waited?”
He shrugs, like we’re discussing the weather. “To have sex? We’re not shy in this pack, shug.”
