by Anne Marsh
Gianna produces a plastic spoon and digs in with an audible moan. I need more chocolate in our future stat.
“You plannin’ on sharin’ that?” I get the feeling that, while she might concede the battle of the fried chicken to me, mousse is a whole different fight.
“When hell freezes over,” she says and licks the spoon.
Jesus. The move has me imagining her tongue running up and down my dick just like that, tasting the heavy head as if it’s her favorite flavor of chocolate. My maman likely has more mousse stashed away in her fridge. I’ll have to take a look, because possibly I can bribe Gianna. Or coat my dick with the stuff.
I’m down nights in this fucking quest of mine. It’s like watching a vacation slip away. All that gorgeous, beautiful, special time… and it’s running through my fingers lightning fast.
“So you’re okay with—” Hell. There has to be a nice, feminine, meaningful word to describe what we’ve done in my bed. I don’t need to be a relationship expert to know that calling it fucking is the understatement of the year. She’s turned me inside out.
“The sex is great. Thanks.” She licks another bite of mousse off the spoon and digs into the container for more.
She sounds as if she’s thanking me for a real nice loaf of banana bread or a car wax. Except that there’s a gleam in her eyes that has nothing to do with chocolate and everything to do with teasing me. I like it.
“But we should still talk more,” she says, setting the mousse to the side. The spoon taps against the container, a fast rat-a-tat-tat rhythm. “It’s an important part of any relationship.”
My wolf already thinks of her as our mate, but have I pushed too hard, gone too far? I’ve had other lovers, but those women were temporary partners. I gave them pleasure and enjoyed them, but I wasn’t all that concerned with what went on in their heads, nor was I playing for keeps. If the sex stopped doing it for them, if they didn’t get their rocks off on my brand of kink, that was fine. We’d parted ways, no hard feelings. What I feel for Gianna is the opposite of casual, and I need her happy.
“Do you mind the wolf?” The words are probably too blunt. “Do I—”
Fuck if I know what I want to say next.
She bites her lip and looks as if she’s dying. She’s probably decided this is the last time we’re ever having a conversation. I’m that smooth. “No. I don’t mind.”
“So we’re okay.” I need to hear her say yes. Yes to the wolf, yes to me.
“Yeah.” That’s close enough to my fantasy words to work for me. She nods her head as well, a pretty pink blush painting her cheeks. Why does everything have to come with words? I definitely prefer doing. Doing her. Kissing her. Hell, touching her any way she’ll let me.
“Tell me how your investigation is progressing.”
Her bluntness doesn’t surprise me. My Gianna likes to play games in bed, but get her outside the sheets and she’s all business. When I don’t answer right away, she plows on ahead.
“I’m looking up case law. Working remotely.”
“You don’t need to worry about the Breed.” One way or another, I’ve got her covered. Last night was also the last time they got near her.
Now she looks frustrated. “I have a job to do, Cruz. I can’t just walk away.”
What she means is that she won’t.
She could lead a cadre of lawyers the way I do my Pack. Truly, I have nothing but respect for her, but her job is on an intersect path with mine. “You’re puttin’ me in a difficult position, boo.”
“Because wolf matters stay private?” She’s not going to back down from this, but it’s true. Wolves don’t want publicity. Hell, no one in the human world is supposed to know about our existence—and she wants to spearhead some kind of investigation?
“You can’t tell the world about us.” We need to be clear about that.
She gives me a look. “Would it be such a bad thing if everyone found out about you?”
I have to look at her, because I can’t believe she’s serious. But there’s not so much as a hint of laughter on her beautiful face.
“Wolves live undercover,” I tell her. “We always have, and we always will. You think humans react well to finding out they’re not the only species on this planet? You think we want to end up like some kind of freakish zoo exhibit or, worse yet, on someone’s hit list? You all are far too curious.”
“So that’s a no on outing the Pack.” She sighs but doesn’t look surprised. “There are some secrets that can’t be kept, Cruz. You have to know that. Having a wolf under arrest isn’t helping in the keeping-secrets department.”
“I’m gonna take care of the wolf.” I’m careful not to specify how, but her gaze flicks over my face, and clearly she reads my unspoken answer there. She and I both know that Pack law takes precedence for me.
“You like breaking the rules.” Her words sound like an accusation.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my Pack safe,” I counter. “That’s what I do for you too. I protect and defend.”
She shrugs. “I won’t let you little lady me. I’m not a toy you play with and put back on the shelf until you’re ready to fuck again.”
“That’s not it at all.” I growl. I need so much more from her than that. “But I won’ let you put yourself in any more danger.”
She isn’t wolf. She can’t sense intruders or danger the way my Pack and I can. In our world, fighting against the Breed, she’s vulnerable, and that makes me want to howl. To rip something or someone to pieces because she should never, ever be hurt.
“Is this a wolf thing? Because I have to tell you I’ve got a human thing going on called independence. I can and do stand on my own two feet.”
An unfamiliar sensation lances through me. Hurt, but a different kind than a gunshot or a bad fight causes. Even if I left my pack, I couldn’t suppress my wolf, not for the rest of my life. Shifting is simply part of who I am. She looks at me, however, as if she sees the man—and likes what she sees. So that’s something right there. I want to wrap my arms around her and hold her, rub my cheek over her skin and scent mark her.
“Me and the wolf, we’re two halves of a whole.” She can’t have one without the other. The wolf is always present beneath the man’s surface, the same way the man rides shotgun with the wolf. Separating us isn’t possible.
She shakes her head. “Luc says the same thing.”
Hearing my rival’s name on her lips makes both the man and the wolf growl, but I press the advantage she’s handed me. “He’s right. We’re on the same page about this.”
“You said something the other day,” she continues, ignoring what I said.
I’d said a lot of things. “Hit me.”
“You said I didn’t have to take orders. That I wanted to submit to you in the bedroom.”
“Gianna?” I brush my mouth over her ear. She smells perfect, like woman and that rosemary mint shampoo she used so liberally in my shower. And like my soap too, because she hasn’t brought any of her own. My scent layers with hers, forming a new scent uniquely ours.
“I’m goin’ to give you plenty more orders, in bed and out,” I tell her.
She inhales sharply, a soft rasp of sound, her pulse beating harder, but she doesn’t tell me no, and that’s all the permission I need.
GIANNA
The knock the next night is my first clue. Cruz doesn’t knock, and definitely not on his own front door. His brothers don’t either, as we’ve discussed more than once. I’m not okay with having a pack of wolves wandering in and out of my space throughout the day, particularly not if they’re in two-legged form. It’s only polite, as I’ve already pointed out to Jace three times this week, but he just laughed, a hoarse, rough sound that explains why he’s so popular with the ladies down at the motorcycle club. I’ve got my hands full with too many wolfie Alphas already, but that knowing, wicked note in his voice almost makes me sit up and take notice.
So I shove my feet into my Kate Spades a
nd head for the door. Luc is standing there. Naturally, my brain shuts down, because he’s not supposed to be here. I mean, I invited him over the other day, but he’d made his opinion on visiting clear and Luc can out-stubborn the best lawyer. I’m thrilled to see him, but I have to wonder why he’s here. And why now. Even if it wasn’t my profession to be suspicious, it’s in my nature.
“I thought you couldn’t come out here,” I say after I look him over once. Okay, twice because damn… he’s worth looking at and apparently he’s come for me. “Because of ‘werewolf rules.’”
“I thought we could try this your way,” he says, leaning against the doorframe. He holds out the bouquet in his hands, and I take the blooms automatically, trying to see around him. Since werewolf Armageddon doesn’t appear to be happening on my front porch, I decide it’s safe to admire his flowers. Instead of roses, he’s brought me big, exuberant, hot-pink dahlias the size of dinner plates and bloodred peonies. Some little white and pink blooms lurk in there too, and the fragrance is amazing. Each breath I take is lily-scented, rose-scented. Luc-scented. He’s the best part of this surprise.
“They’re gorgeous,” I say, meaning every word.
He doesn’t move, just lounges against the doorframe, watching me as if he’s got all the time in the world. “Dre got himself a book when he was first mated. He claimed it helped.”
I mentally try to imagine that particular werewolf standing in the self-help section of the local bookstore and fail. Maybe he ordered online and settled for not eating the UPS driver when the poor guy showed up. Dre is a scary-ass bastard, on the outside at least, and that’s without knowing that he shifts into two hundred plus pounds of mean armed with wicked canines.
“You read a book?” Wait. That comes out sounding completely wrong.
Luc grins lazily, but his eyes watch me intently. This is absolutely not a social visit. “I asked Dre to bookmark the good parts.”
Uh-huh. I’ll bet that went down well. Dre’s mate isn’t a pushover.
“Can I come in?” Luc asks when I don’t budge from the open doorway.
“I thought there was a rule against that,” I say, not sure if I should let him. Not that I could stop him if he decided to force his way in, but that’s the thing about Luc. He doesn’t force. He fights for what he wants, and he’s not above seduction and the wickedest of games, but he’s never made me do anything. Always, it’s been my choice.
He knows me well.
He leans into me, bending his head to brush his mouth over mine. “I cheat,” he growls roughly. “And some rules were made to be broken, shug. We both know that.”
I open my mouth to protest, and he takes advantage.
Heat rushes through me, the first touch of his mouth on mine breaking some unseen barrier that’s been holding back all these feelings. Luc kisses me as if he’s been counting the seconds since our last kiss, but he takes his time. Damn him. His lips brush mine in a delicious tease, his tongue opening me up and sinking deep. He’s not rough, but he doesn’t hold back either. Just keeps going, keeps giving me pleasure, until the word no isn’t even part of my vocabulary. My entire body is one soft yes, and we both know it.
As my lashes flutter closed because my body’s decided it definitely wants to act like the heroine in one of our favorite books, I spot one of Luc’s brothers hunkered down at the far end of the porch. Watching his brother’s back probably, because I can’t imagine why else he’d be seated out here. He’s probably bristling with concealed weapons violations as well, but tonight I don’t want to know. I shut my eyes and kiss Luc back.
He lifts his mouth from mine. “Can I come in?”
I can feel each word gusting across my skin, and I shiver. If I agree, if I do this, I’m pushing Cruz. I’m making him confront Luc, to acknowledge that there’s three of us in this relationship and not just two. I don’t even know what Luc wants, not really, but this is my chance to force my two wolves together—and so I give Luc one more word. “Yes.”
Luc’s hands tighten on my waist, walking me backward, and I let him.
CRUZ
It’s been one fuck of a day. I’m closing in on the Breed MC. If they keep pulling the stupid shit they’ve been doing, I’ll have all the evidence I need to arrest their asses. Ordinarily that would be a good thing and I’d be high-fiving my boys in uniform and ready for a round of cold ones, but Jace is giving me hell and I’m worried about my brother. He’s a little too deep undercover, if you understand me, and I’m not sure he’s gonna want to pull out. We’re all territorial bastards, and it’s just possible he decides to keep his motorcycle club and set up as Alpha of his own pack.
As soon as I pull up in front of the plantation house, I can hear Fate laughing her ass off at me. There’s a new scent in the big house, the scent of a female who stinks of the Breed. I don’t bother with pleasantries, just follow my nose and shove through the front door and head on up the stairs. Jace’s room is at the end of the hall, and he’s not alone.
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t give two shits if my brother had a female companion. We’ve generally stuck to the rule of not bringing humans home, because it could get messy. That whole living-in-the-shadows and let’s-not-out-ourselves-to-the-nice-people thing. Plus our maman would kick our asses. She’s into grandbabies—not casual hook-ups. So if Jace has a female in his room, he’s got to have a damned compelling reason.
I rap hard on the door, debating the wisdom of just busting on in there.
“Fuck off,” Jace yells hoarsely. The scents coming from the room are a mixture of arousal and fear, and I know goddamned well that it’s not my brother who’s running scared in there. The female wolf smells good enough to eat though—but she still stinks like the Breed, and my baby brother’s got some explaining to do. We do not bring our work home with us.
“You got to the count of three,” I say agreeably. And frankly, three is way more generous than I’m feeling now.
Jace curses and booted feet hit the floor. He cracks the door a second later, and I shove it open farther. It’s clear I’m interrupting something, although I’m not exactly sure what’s going on in here. Jace is shirtless, but he’s wearing his jeans—mostly, because his top button is undone—and his boots. He’s also got a small female werewolf tied to his bed, and from the scents rolling off her, she’s not one hundred percent on board with the bondage scene. I’d put it at eighty/twenty though, because a note of arousal and curiosity is piggybacking on all the fear and hostility rolling off her pretty body.
“Introduce me,” I growl.
Jace moves farther into the door, blocking my view of the female on the bed. “You angling for an invitation to join us?”
The female squeaks, pretty much trying to crawl into herself. She’s not into that kind of wolf party—that much is clear.
“Fuck you,” I say, and Jace shrugs.
“She’s the daughter of the MC president,” he allows after a moment. “I’m rescuin’ her.”
“That doesn’t look like any rescue I’ve seen.” I study his face, avoiding the scene inside the bedroom. If she doesn’t want me looking, no problem.
Jace shrugs again. “The boys gave her to me.”
“There was a war to end slavery,” I point out. “And we don’t hold with that shit anyhow. You’d better be getting a clear yes from her before you go anywhere near that bed.”
Jace nods tightly. His hands open and close by his sides as he weighs the pros of popping me one against the cons. My gaze flicks to the girl on the bed. She doesn’t look happy either. More resigned. Gianna would kick my balls into the middle of my throat if I pulled this kind of shit on her without her permission, but apparently my brother prefers a different kind of woman.
“I mate with her, I become the Breed Alpha.”
“So this is an election? Doesn’t look too democratic to me.”
“You should see the other candidates,” Jace growls. “I’m her best option.”
“So you all told her she h
ad to pick wolf A, B or C? You boys never heard of D: None of the above?”
Jace’s gaze doesn’t waver from mine. “They’d eat her alive.”
There’s a protective note in both his voice and his scent that I haven’t detected before. Whoever the female is, she’s more than a bargaining chip for Jace. This is personal.
“We’re gonna talk about this more,” I warn him. “You don’ get to add kidnappin’ to your shit list for this week. Our pack doesn’t need that kind of trouble. Not now.”
Jace crosses his arms over his chest. “She’s not gettin’ hurt anymore.”
The way his face tightens when he says anymore tells me that his captive hasn’t had a good week, either. I’m considering whether I should force my way inside and Q&A the little wolf when Jace’s head swings around to his window. I don’t have to wonder why—I can smell the scent of wolf as well as he can. There are Breauxs on our land.
“You need a hand?” Jace doesn’t hesitate.
What I need is to think this through, but my wolf is jonesing for a fight. There’s room for just one Alpha.
Except for in Gianna’s heart. Maybe.
Fuck me, but my life is confused. I shake my head in Jace’s direction—he has enough problems on his plate without borrowing mine—and head down the stairs. Sure I rescued Gianna from the MC and she’s grateful and there’s a bond there. Fan-fucking-tastic. But I don’t want to be her pity fuck. Not that the times I touched her hadn’t rocked my damned world—because they had—but because I want something more from her.
Fuck.
I want it all.
Gianna’s head, her heart, her gorgeous body.
If I go barging into my place, I’m gonna burn bridges that I need. Gianna’s her own woman, but right now ripping out the other Alpha’s throat appeals. Luc’s in my house and my fucking bed. I could go in there and own the moment. Could pull the other wolf off her and take his place. My dick likes the idea of letting Gianna compare and contrast just fine.
