Bayou Wolves Boxed Set

by Anne Marsh

  Or I could… not.

  I could make an attempt at accepting Luc.

  Gianna thinks I’m nice. In her mind, I’m the beagle to Luc’s pit bull, and I’ve made a mistake in not showing her just how wrong she is. I’m a wolf and not a nice one, even if I do wear a uniform and promise to protect and defend. She doesn’t recognize me for the other things I am—the pack enforcer, the male who makes sure all the laws get followed, and who doles out the punishments when they don’t. Maintaining human law keeps my pack safe.

  My dad steps out into the hallway, blocking my exit.

  “Give me five,” he says. “Before you go tearing back there and do something stupid.”

  I growl before I can stop myself. I’m Alpha now, not him, and that’s my female in someone else’s arms. My time with Gianna is bleeding away. We’ve made some memories in bed, but I’m spending far too many of the daylight hours elsewhere, dealing with shit that needs to get resolved, but that doesn’t bring me any closer to winning Gianna’s heart. I’m her part-time lover and part-time bodyguard, when I want to be her full-time everything.

  “Five minutes,” my dad repeats. “And then we’ll all help you kill him.”

  I lean against the wall, all my senses keyed on the cottage a few hundred yards away. I can feel the questions coming, and I’m as clear on my answers as morning fog rolling off the bayou.

  “You plannin’ on keepin’ that woman you brought home with you?”

  “What do you think?” Meeting a question with a question is a weak feint, but I don’t have an easy answer. After one hundred and fifty years, my dad has seen plenty of shit. He bought the plantation and made it home after it had stood empty for a decade or more. I asked him once about those earlier southern days, and my dad just shook his head and said he wasn’t making a place for himself on the backs of others. His familiar, sun-lined face has acquired more laugh lines around the hazel eyes over the years, the same way his hair has turned more gray than brown. The outsides change, but the man inside is the same. His shoulder-length hair, gray and brown, is tied back, and he sports an ancient T-shirt underneath a flannel shirt. He’s hard working and honest, all good things to be, and he raised the four of us to earn our way because just living is a gift. If I can be half the man and Alpha my dad is, I’ll be satisfied.

  He gets straight to the point. “I think you wan’ to.”

  Family knows you. For better or for worse, they’ve got the inside line on your strengths and weaknesses. Most days, I love that closeness. Some days, like today, however, it’s damned awkward.

  Like now.

  I’m actually considering inviting another Alpha to join me in a relationship. To have a goddamned threesome with someone who I can’t dominate, can’t overpower, and damned certain can’t stop. Not that those are things I want to do to Gianna, but I also know I can turn my back on her without dying or risking my pack. Luc has to feel the same way though. Doesn’t he?

  My father looks at me, waiting for his answer. The front hallway isn’t the most comfortable place in the world to have a heart-to-heart. The decorative molding on the wall digs into my ass and I’m on display. It’s been a long day, and I’ve zero desire at this point for anything other than a shower and a twelve-hour date with my pillow.

  Okay. So now I’m lying to myself. The pillow date tops my list, as long as Gianna comes with it. And I can have her too. That’s part of what makes me antsy and nervous as hell. If I walk around the big house and head for my place, I can climb in the shower with her and then take her to bed… just as soon as I deal with Luc Breaux.

  “I think she’s my mate.” Talking about feelings and mates with my dad is awkward, but my dad is the only member of the family who has mated. Other than Riley, and no way in hell am I discussing love and sex with my baby sister. I do not want to think any closer about what she and her Breaux husband are doing. Because they could totally be swapping recipes or crochet patterns. Something totally innocent.

  Not.

  “Uh-huh.” My dad examines my face. Good luck finding answers there. “So it seems like I should be congratulatin’ you, except you’ve got that long face that says somethin’s fucked up here and we both know the bayou’s not a big place, not when it comes to who’s sleepin’ with who.”

  Great. Now when I run into someone I know, I’ll be painfully aware the other person has the inside scoop on my sex life. Some details should remain private.

  “She’s not with the Breaux boy now,” my dad continues. “She’s here with you, and you’re talkin’ about her bein’ your mate.”

  “She’s with him right now,” I point out. The whole house has to know it. “In my bed. Twelve kinds of fucked up, isn’t it?”

  My dad doesn’t back down. “That’s not what I said, although I’m curious as to why she’s pinballin’ between the two of you like she don’ know which one of you is right for her.”

  “It’s not like that.” I have a pretty good idea of how Gianna feels about Luc. Hell, I was there for their I-love-yous and she made it clear then she felt plenty for the other Alpha. This week is my attempt to replace Luc in her heart, and so far, I’m failing. Hell, I’ve spent more time running after the Breed than I have holding Gianna. A week just isn’t enough time. I need a year. Ten years. Fuck, a lifetime wouldn’t be enough to show her how she makes me feel.

  “Then how is it?”

  “Luc believes she’s his mate.” Too. Luc believes Gianna is also his. And it’s that unspoken ditto that keeps us at odds.

  My dad nods. “So she’s got the two of you hanging on her heart strings. Or is she done with the Breaux boy?”

  Only my dad would call Luc boy. He doesn’t pull his punches, and he doesn’t bullshit. One day, he’d looked over at me and said You’re ready. Your turn. Four words. It had been as simple as that. No dominance fight. No battle to the death. Just a quiet sidestep on his part, and then I’d had big fucking shoes to fill. If he’s got advice for me about Gianna, I’d be a fool not to listen.

  “She’s not done with him.” It hurts to say that, but the truth is the truth. I wish I hadn’t fallen for her. That’s also the truth.

  “Uh-huh. So she’s here… takin’ you for a test drive?”

  “She promised me a week.”

  “To do what?” My dad shoots me a look. “And, no, I don’ wan’ to hear the word sex crossin’ your lips. Some things I don’ wan’ to know.”

  “Luc claims she’s his blue moon bride. They met years ago in Vegas and hooked up there. She thought maybe they were married—one of those Vegas shotgun deals—but nope. She was still single.”

  “Not for long then, if Luc has decided she’s his blue moon bride.”

  “She accepted him.” That stings too.

  “But she’s here with you. I’m not sure if I should hug that girl or leave her sittin’ at the end of the drive.”

  “We—the three of us—” Christ. Saying this in front of my dad makes me cringe. Plus there’s the whole no talking about sex fiat. “Had a night together. She wants us to try a relationship together. The three of us.”

  “These things happen.” My dad’s secret smile hints at all sorts of memories. Nope. Not thinking about it. “But I guess it was more than a good time if you’re thinkin’ she’s your mate.”

  “Do you believe in the blue moon stuff?”

  “That the moon picks out the right woman for the right man?” My dad shrugs. “I’ve seen all sorts of strange things. If Luc believes it, it’s true enough for him. The question is what’s right for you.”

  “How do you know when you’ve found the right woman?”

  “Sometimes, it takes a while. Sometimes, it’s a goddamn lightning bolt from the sky.”

  “What was it like for you and our Maman?”

  My dad stares out at the bayou for a long moment. “We were somewhere between the two. I’m stubborn. I wasn’t sure it was fair to her to make her part of the pack.”

  I can understand that. Gian
na has her own life back in Baton Rouge. A job she loves. A house. Friends and places to be. Life with the pack requires a degree of secrecy I’m not sure she’d accept.

  “So how do I know?”

  “You already do, if you’re sittin’ here askin’ me. Those boys have their blue moon. Don’ know if that makes things easier or harder. And just because Luc chooses her don’ mean she chooses him. Or only him. If she’s here with you after he told her he loved her, then she’s got feelings for you too. Or instead. Damned if I’m fucking Dear Abby. You should ask your Maman.”

  Not in a million years.

  “You really think she could pick the both of us?”

  Silence stretches out between us, broken only by the roar of a gator out in the bayou, waking up and ready to hunt.

  “Better question is: can you boys share? You got enough feelings in you for her that you can accept him in your heart too?”

  I’m Alpha. I’m territorial as fuck. I’m also not interested in Luc—no sexual feelings there, although I have no problem with two guys… it’s just not my thing. But Luc clearly matters to Gianna, and I want Gianna happy. It stings that I can’t be enough for her on my own. So there it is. There’s the rub. Maybe, together, Luc and I can be enough. But I won’t be the third wheel or the subordinate partner like I was during our one shared night. She isn’t a timeshare we can divide up. And what about babies if and when they come? I want a family. Maybe not today, but some day.

  Jesus. I have no idea how to make this work.

  But maybe I could make the effort?

  “I’ve got thinkin’ to do.” I push off the wall.

  “You gonna kill somebody?” My dad doesn’t move, but I can feel the tension radiating off his body.

  “Gonna try not to,” I admit, but honestly? I don’t know.

  I don’t fucking know.

  GIANNA

  The wolf that shoves through the front door is huge, a dark-chocolate-brown beast with large paws. It pads silently over the hardwood floor. Luc is a goddamn big wolf, but this bad boy has a good twenty or thirty pounds and six inches on the Breaux Alpha. Believing them evenly matched may have been a mistake.

  The wolf swings its head around, golden eyes lasering in on me. The animal promptly lays in a direct course for me. Well. Shoot.

  Please tell me that’s Cruz. And not another relative. I’m a cat person. Not a dog person. And the wolf coming for me is enormous.

  The wolf snarls and butts me with its shoulder, driving me toward the staircase that leads to the bedroom. This is Cruz? I look down at the wolf. Big, stubborn, intent on making me toe some invisible line? Check, check, and check. The personality certain fits. I’m just not entirely sure why he’s so upset.

  The wolf butts me again, and I come up against the foot of the stairs. When the wolf pushes, I glare down at it. Him. How did I end up with a pair of shapeshifters?

  “You want to go upstairs and talk?” I’m not sure alone time is in my best interest. Cruz doesn’t get angry fast or easily, but I’ll bet he knows how to make his point and he sure seems to be jonesing for a fight of some kind. My pussy comes alive at that unwelcome thought, suggesting wicked possibilities. We’ve never had make-up sex. Or, hell, even normal sex.

  So… no. Not happening. Cruz can shift back if he wants to hold an actual conversation with me. Until then, I’m out of here.

  “Hey.” I slap a hand against his shoulder. Or what I think is his shoulder. “Shift.”

  Apparently he’s not in an order-taking kind of mood. He butts my thigh with his shoulder, pushing me gently but firmly up the stairs. Apparently, it’s communication time after all. That, or I’m finally finding out what happens when Cruz loses his shit. Resigned, I hotfoot it up the stairs, hyperaware of the wolf following along behind me. As soon as my feet clear the last step, the wolf nudges me toward the bedroom.

  When I step into the room, the wolf immediately follows, driving me straight toward the bed. Which isn’t happening right now. I turn to face my wolf, but he keeps right on coming, forcing me to backpedal—I’ll beat up on myself for that later—until the back of my thighs bump up against the bed. Soft tufts of the chenille rub against my over-sensitive skin. God. I’ll bet he feels soft…

  The next nudge from the wolf knocks me onto the bed. I scramble high, putting my back to the pillows.

  “Right.” I cross my arms over my chest and glare down at the animal. Cruz. Whoever. “Now we’re talking.”

  The wolf chuffs and leaps lightly up onto the bed, its golden gaze raking over me. Then it walks toward me, the mattress shaking beneath its weight. Not happening. I draw my legs up to my chest.

  “Shift.” I’m so not having a one-sided conversation with a wolf-man. Ignoring me, the wolf places one enormous paw on my bare thigh, the silky pad a heavy warmth. That part is actually kind of nice, but then he snarls. I have no idea what it—he—wants, but in typical male fashion, he’s going to make me guess.

  “This is not a conversation. No shifting? Then no talking.”

  The wolf growls low in its throat, clearly disagreeing. Who knows if he understands English in his shifted form?

  I should be scared. Pissed off. Instead, I feel a flicker of fear and… heat? What kind of pervert am I?

  The kind that likes wolves, apparently. Cruz drops onto the mattress, resting his huge head on my thigh, the heavy weight pressing my legs open. I look down and, shoot, the view is positively obscene. My short cotton shorts skim my ass, gaping where my thighs splay open. Yep. I’m definitely flashing him my panties. Nice panties, thank God, but none of his business right now. Worse, I can smell my arousal.

  Which means so can he.

  Time for ground rules. “I’m not doing this.”

  Cruz has other ideas. A warm, rough tongue laps my thigh, and he presses me deeper into the mattress.

  My pussy moistens. Arousal. Because, damn it, I’m not really afraid of Cruz. I’m afraid of losing control. And liking it.

  As if he recognizes my hesitation, my wolf growls and nips carefully at my thigh. I jerk, but then that same rough tongue bathes at the sting.

  Oh. Cruz’s tongue makes another pass, higher this time, and explores the sensitive junction of thigh and hip, finding the hollow.

  “Shift.” I hear the plea in my voice, but I’m so not doing this with a wolf. Budging the big furry wolf body pinning me in place, however, is apparently mission impossible. Another nip. Another warm pass of his tongue, tracing the lacy edge of my panties.

  And then he sniffs me. Really? He had to go and do that? When he shifts back, I’ll kill him. Because the wolf is now pressed lightly against the damp cotton, right where I ache for him, even if I also want to die from the embarrassment. This takes kink to a whole other level and my big bad wolf apparently has plans of his own. Plans that involve eating me up. Literally.

  “Please shift?” Because I can’t take much more of this, and I need him now.

  The wolf backs off. If I had blinked, I’d have missed it. I’m not sure what I imagined his shift would look like, but one minute I have the wolf by my side, and then the powerful body blurs, reshaping, and Cruz is here. And, oh thank God, he’s naked.

  “Gianna,” he growls.

  “No talking now.” Please let me not have whimpered.

  “Turn over.” His face mirrors a fierce arousal and a raw possessiveness I should protest. When I look over his shoulder, however, the door is still open. That definitely has to change.

  I jerk my chin toward the offending space. “Close the door.”

  I honestly have no idea how a wolf pack works, but I’m not playing exhibitionist for his brother downstairs.

  He gives a soft chuckle, then turns his head and bellows for Jace. That is so not what I had in mind.

  “You do it. Or let me up and I’ll do it.” When I try to scramble off the bed, however, he stops me by rolling over on top of me. Time for a DIY approach. I shove at his shoulders, but the man is built like a brick wall, hi
s body holding mine effortlessly in place on the mattress.

  He’s so close now that there’s not an inch of space between us. His legs pin mine to the mattress, his erection cradled by my hips. Spending the next two—or twenty—hours like this works for me. Except… the door is still open and I’m pretty sure I’ve got wolfie bodyguards lurking around the place.

  Um. Yeah. Privacy absolutely does matter. Otherwise, I’d have my very own channel on YouTube. Booted feet thud up the stairs down the hall, my heads-up that we have incoming and an audience. Oh, God. Company.

  The feet stop at the door.

  “Shut the door. We’re busy.” Cruz doesn’t so much as turn his head. Oh, boy. I’m in so much trouble here.

  “Sure, but which side of the door do you wan’ me on?”

  Definitely in trouble.

  I risk a second look over Cruz’s bare shoulder. Sure enough, Eli has planted himself in the doorway. The grin on his face says he knows exactly what Cruz and I are getting up to. Of course. He has eyes in his head. All he has to do is look. And… is he serious about joining us? I definitely need the rule book for the wolf pack. Or a manual. Something, anything to let me know what to expect.

  Other than trouble.

  “Gianna?” Eli switches his eyes to my face. Bonus points for him. Or maybe he just doesn’t really want to stare at his brother’s naked butt.

  “Leave and shut the door,” I snap, because apparently he requires explicit instructions. As hot as he and his motorcycle bad-boy brother are, I don’t need or want them in this bed with Cruz. Two wolves are more than enough for me.

  “As long as you’re sure,” he says.

  “I don’t beat your ass enough,” Cruz growls.

  Eli laughs and backs up. “Gotta catch me first.”

  “Go away. Now.” Tight with need and fierce demand, Cruz’s face wakes something primitive in me.

  “I’m going. I just needed to make sure Gianna is okay before I hand over guard duty.”

  Why wouldn’t I be fine? I open my mouth to ask, but Cruz beats me to the punch. “She’s workin’ on earnin’ herself a spankin’, but otherwise we’re good.”