She's the One

by Riley Ashford

  The black wolf was no more. Deliciously naked, the man's long, thick cock pressed against her thigh. His skin was the color of coffee with too much cream, and his tousled hair was black, as dark as his eyes.

  "Hmm,” said another male voice. “She tastes good, too."

  This man, as corded with muscle as his friend, had the mischievous gaze of the gray wolf.

  They took turns kissing her, their hands stroking every inch of her heated skin. And when one of them parted the slick inner folds of her pussy and stroked her clit, she moaned, and closed her eyes, and fell down, down, down...

  * * * *

  Cass sucked in a breath, and tried to shake off the miasma. “W-what happened?"

  "She survived,” said a male voice, laden with sarcasm. “Yay."

  She pried open her eyes and had barely realized she was lying in the middle of a comfortable bed when she felt the mattress dip. She looked at the man sitting inches from her.

  Fuck.

  It was Hottie No. 1, the dude she'd tried to off. Her gaze flicked beyond him, to the guy leaning against the hotel room wall. His glare clearly indicated that he wished she'd explode. Yeah. He'd been the one attempting to track her. Hard to do when she was in the trees with the battering rain washing away her scent and masking her movements.

  She smirked.

  He pushed himself off the wall and stalked toward the bed.

  "Relax, Erick."

  Blue Eyes stopped, pivoted, and threw himself into a chair tucked into the corner of the room. He crossed his arms and glared at her some more. Nice.

  "I'm Tarn.” He studied her face. “We've got you. So cooperate."

  "Or what?” Her voice sounded like rusty hinges. She tried to clear her throat, but the effort hurt. It felt like she'd swallowed a whole bag of cotton balls. Tarn helped her to a sitting position and handed her a glass of water. It had the metallic taste of tap water. What? She didn't rate the ten-dollar bottled water? Still, she sucked down every drop. She toyed with the idea of slamming the glass against Tarn's gorgeous head, but he plucked it out of her hands. Oh well, it wasn't like she could take them both down, not without weapons or in her weakened state.

  Her traitorous heart beat steadily, not revealing its weakness. She'd been so close to getting on that beach. Now, she was gonna bite it in a hotel room. Heh. Bite it. Yeah, that was probably the literal interpretation of how she would breathe her last. What a way to end an otherwise stellar career.

  "Thanks for the water.” Her voice sounded normal, and she was feeling a smidge better. She looked down at herself, and her lips quirked. “And thanks for leaving on my bra and panties. I usually like to get to know my killers personally before going nude."

  "You must be naked a lot,” Erick said.

  "No one's ever gotten the drop on me,” she replied. “How about you?"

  Tarn chuckled, but it wasn't a nice sound. “You have the distinction of nearly besting werewolves of the two strongest warrior clans."

  "Had you not been so busy,” she said, “you might have noticed."

  Tarn's eyes shuttered and he got up. She knew it wasn't the idea she'd seen him macking on the boy over there. It was that she'd wounded him and his pride. Warrior werewolves? Like the regular kind weren't badass enough. Wow. She sure could pick ‘em.

  Cass sat up. Then she heard a rattle and something flew at her. She snatched the prescription bottle out of mid-air.

  "What are they for?” asked Tarn.

  She stared at the label. Tarn had given her the meds. He could've let her die, right there in the parking lot, and gotten his revenge. Why had he saved her? So he could kill her himself? If that was true, the dude's ego was way too big. She didn't get that vibe, though. What a waste of energy and resources. If a target died of a heart attack instead of a bullet headache so much the better.

  She put the bottle on the nightstand. She was gonna die. What was the point of lying? “My name is Cassandra Rogers, but everyone calls me Cass. I'm twenty-six. I've been a paid assassin, trained by my father, since I was seventeen. I'm dying. My heart's giving out, and I have maybe, a couple months to live."

  "Why were you at Jaron Dunmore's residence?"

  Cass absorbed this information, and realized these guys hadn't been protecting the house. “Jaron's the wolfie. And you're not his friends, are you?"

  Tarn and Erick exchanged a glance. Then Tarn said, “As a matter of fact, we are."

  "Yeah. Sure.” She shrugged. “I was there to take out Kirk Raynard. The vampire queen offered to change me if I killed her cousin.” She laughed, a bitter sound. “I wanted to live so bad.” Sighing, she flopped back to the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I wonder if that's what people think right before I put a bullet in their skulls. I want to live."

  "These people you killed,” said Tarn. “They deserved it?"

  "Yeah. I choose my jobs carefully. All but this one.” She turned her head. Tarn was leaning against the wall now, his eyes on her. Erick's baby blues glittered with an emotion she couldn't define, but at least he looked less hostile. “So what's going on here, boys? ‘Cause if you ain't gonna do me, then I have a beach chair and a mai tai with my name on it."

  "Do you?” asked Tarn with a sexy growl that made her scramble off the other side of the bed.

  "Whoa there. Do. As in kill.” Cass had nowhere to go. She'd fight like a rabid bitch, but she knew her odds. They'd get what they wanted. She planted her hands on her hips and glared at them. Her heart skipped a beat then started fluttering like a trapped bird.

  "I prefer the alternative definition,” said Tarn.

  "You saved me so you could fuck me?” Her voice was a mixture of outrage and astonishment.

  "Not quite.” He hadn't moved, but she got the distinct impression that both he and Erick were fully prepared to leap from their positions. The energy of the room had changed. Tension was so thick that she was nearly breathing it.

  "I swear to God if you touch me, at least one of you will die."

  Both men's expressions turned to shock.

  "You think we would force you?” Erick rose from the chair and stared at her. The fury was back, although for a different reason. “It's not like we need you."

  "Erick,” said Tarn softly. His gaze hadn't left Cass's face, and he was making her nervous.

  "I'm a prisoner,” she pointed out, feeling unaccountably defensive. “You could've let me die, but you didn't. And apparently, you're not trying to kill me. What am I supposed to think?"

  "We have a proposal,” said Tarn.

  Erick snorted and plopped back into the chair. He crossed his arms and took a supreme interest in the ceiling.

  "I'm listening.” Cass stayed where she was, between the wall and the king-sized bed. Wary didn't begin to cover how she was feeling. What the hell did these guys want?

  "We were sent by our pack to kill Jaron."

  "Your friend?” Cass was horrified. “You'd do that?"

  "That's what I'm sayin',” muttered Erick.

  "Jaron refused to breed with our females, and left the pack. Because Jaron comes from a respected bloodline, the Elders ignored his ... rebellion.” Tarn sighed. “Then Jaron met Kirk Raynard and Leann Hayes. Jaron is the third in their relationship. It is his child that Leann carries in her womb."

  "Vampires can't have kids,” she said slowly. The woman was pregnant. And if Tarn was right, this Leann wasn't the vampire's pet. She was in a threesome with a werewolf and a vampire. Hmm. Maybe she was a little crazy. Well, she would've been safe from Cass. No kids. Ever. And that included pregnant women.

  But maybe the werewolves didn't have the same policy. Her gaze flicked over Tarn, who looked as stoic as a statue. She didn't understand werewolf politics any better than she did the machinations of the vampire court. “So, you're gonna kill Jaron for knocking up a girl? That's harsh."

  "She's a human,” said Erick. “Apparently not fit to carry our spawn.” Erick sounded disgusted with the whole enterprise. Her respect fo
r him went up a notch. Then she realized what he was implying.

  "You're supposed to kill her, too?"

  "She carries a half-werewolf,” said Tarn. He didn't sound too sure about this part of the plan.

  "And I thought the vampires were fucked up."

  "We're not doing it.” Tarn's sudden, fierce declaration made Erick's gaze swing toward him.

  "Tarn? Are you screwing with me?"

  "Our true purpose has been accomplished,” said Tarn. “We found her."

  Cass's eyebrows went up, but the men weren't paying attention to her. Erick stood up and put his hand on Tarn's arm. “What about the Elders? They're gonna be pissed."

  "We'll warn Jaron. He can take his lovers somewhere safe. We'll tell the Elders they were gone when we arrived."

  "They'll be in hiding forever.” Erick's expression wavered between relief and worry. “And with the half-breed alive, the Elders will never stop looking for them."

  "Unless Kirk kills the vampire queen.” Both men turned to her. Cass realized she should've kept her trap shut. Even though she'd been plotting to kill Kirk, she'd never met the guy. She had no investment in his life or the lives of those he loved. Still, she couldn't stop herself from outlining the idea.

  "Queen Isolde is freaking crazy and she's surrounded herself with a bunch of blood-sucking psychos. It's probably why so many vampires like Kirk just stay out of her way. No one defies her because she's vicious and vengeful.” Cass shrugged. The room was cold, and her nipples poked through the thin material of her bra. Tarn's eyes dipped to her breasts. She crossed her arms over her chest. “If Kirk gets rid of his cousin, he'll be king. Jaron and Leann would have protection out the wazoo. No way would your Elders risk an all-out war with the vampires. And the vampires would probably be stoked to get a leader who wasn't nutso."

  "That may solve our problem,” said Tarn. He took Erick by the shoulders. “If we return to the pack and the Elders discover our treachery, at the worst, we'll lose our lives, and the least, our home."

  "I don't care if we're banned. As long as I'm with you,” said Erick, “I am home."

  Cass felt a catch in her throat. She'd never been in love. In brief relationships, sure, and maybe a crush or two as a teenager before her first kill, but she'd never had the opportunity to fall in stars-in-the-eyes love. Just another regret she added to the “wish I had done this” list.

  "Well, if we've decided everyone's going to live,” she said, “then I'd like my clothes.” She paused. “And my gun."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Five

  "You haven't heard our proposal.” Tarn looked at her, his expression suddenly thoughtful. “You'd already decided not to kill Kirk. That's why you left after you attacked us."

  "I decided it was time to listen to fate. I'd rather go have some fun before the ol’ ticker gives out.” She tapped her wrist as if it held a watch. “And now, you're wasting what little time I have left. So ... clothes?"

  "I like you better without them on,” Tarn said. He put his arm around Erick, who leaned against his shoulder and studied her.

  Once again, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The tension was there, but it was definitely the lustful kind. Cass felt vulnerable. And though she'd spent every waking second being decisive, she found herself waffling. Were they offering a night in their bed? Was she insane for even thinking about how awesome fucking two werewolves would be?

  "If we openly help Jaron and his friends,” said Erick, “then the Elders will ban us.” He sounded uncertain. “If they do, they cannot force us to take a female."

  Tarn looked down at his lover, a frown marring his handsome face. “You don't want this?"

  Erick's gaze flicked to Cass, who watched the byplay with narrowed eyes. Then he sighed. “I want her,” he admitted. “I want the one who can make us better warriors, men, wolves. She won't put up with shit. She's fast and strong.” He grunted. “And, you know, pretty."

  "Yeah. Um ... hello? I have no idea what you're talking about, but I'm not afraid to walk outta this hotel in my bra."

  "You said you'd decided to follow fate,” said Tarn. “So have we. You don't have to die, Cassandra. We can make you werewolf."

  Cass looked at Tarn, at the desire glittering in his eyes. Apprehension warred with hope. “What's the price of this gift?"

  "You must agree to be our mate."

  "Mate?” asked Cass, flabbergasted. “Is that wolf talk for wife?"

  "Yeah,” said Erick. “But not in a human sense. There is no divorce. If a mate dies, the surviving spouse can marry again, but other than that ... it's practically forever."

  "So, I'd be married to both of you? Forever?"

  "Yes,” said Tarn.

  "Will I be expected to do housework or cook? Because I don't do that kind of crap. Or knit. Or garden. Or grocery shop."

  "It's not a subservient role,” said Tarn. “You would be our partner in all ways."

  Cass couldn't believe she was even considering this crazy proposal. She shook her head. “I guess being a werewolf is better than being a bloodsucker, but I was sorta resolved to the whole dying thing."

  "Give us a chance. Maybe you'll find we're a better alternative to death.” Tarn took Erick's hand and led him to the bed.

  Cass's eyes widened. “You want me to sleep with you?"

  "Not sleep,” said Erick. “Fuck."

  Tarn let out a long-suffering sigh. “Stay the night. Willingly. In the morning, if you decide not to mate with us, we'll let you go."

  "What, exactly, does mating involve?"

  "You have to be a werewolf for it to count,” said Erick. He shucked his Nikes and socks, and then pulled off his shirt. “So, right now, it's just fucking."

  Cass got a gander at his body, which she'd seen in the darkened forest, and in the glare of the hotel room lights it was even better. Her gaze flipped to Tarn. He, too, was getting undressed. He was broader in the shoulders and chest than Erick, and probably a couple inches taller. Both of them were handsome and muscled. And when she mentally put herself in the middle of that particularly tasty sandwich, her body went hot and tingly.

  Hoo-boy.

  "What about your heart?” asked Tarn. “Will it fail if we ... um, push it?"

  "I exercise all the time and it's held so far. And if it fails during—” Aw, crap. Had she just admitted she was gonna do the wild thing with them? “—er, during, you know, then hey, what a way to go."

  "We go gentle,” he told Erick. “After she becomes werewolf, we'll play hard."

  Cass's stomach flipped. Play hard? Ooooh. These were her kind of boys. But she hadn't necessarily decided to hitch herself to them for all eternity. So, they'd just have to play hard now, while she could enjoy it.

  They took off their jeans and both climbed onto the bed.

  Without another word of protest, she wiggled off her panties and unsnapped her bra. Then, naked, she crawled into the bed between them. Tarn was the first to skim his palm down her side, splaying his long fingers over her abdomen. His hand was warm, and her skin contracted from the light contact.

  Erick was obviously the impatient one. He kissed her. He was aggressive, plundering her mouth with his tongue and nipping at her lips. She cupped his face and gave back as good as she got, sucking on his lower lip before ravaging his throat. And when she found that vulnerable spot beneath his throat, she bit him.

  The low growl sent chills straight through her. Excitement coiled. Oh, he was gonna hold back until Tarn let him loose. She raked her nails down his back and licked the bruised skin. She turned more fully toward Erick, pressing against him, while Tarn stroked the skin of her back, buttocks, thighs.

  Erick's fingers tangled in her hair and he drew her up for another brutal kiss. She loved it. Heat streaked through her, leaving her flushed and yearning.

  And when he put his teeth against her throat and growled, her womb contracted.

  "God, you're wet,” said Tarn as he slipped his hand over h
er hips and delved into her swollen pussy. “She likes it."

  Erick reached across her to touch Tarn, and she turned, giving Erick her backside, and kissed Tarn. Erick shifted so that his thick cock slid between her ass cheeks. She wrapped a leg around Tarn, and he teased her weeping pussy with his sizable cock.

  He bent to lave at her aching nipples, lightly biting the distended peaks. Pleasure shuddered through her.

  Her senses whirled as the men worshipped her with hands and mouths. She could barely breathe. Barely think. She rolled again to face Erick and slid between his thighs so she could taste his cock.

  He moaned, grabbing the bed covers in his fists, his eyes closing as she sucked his length into her mouth. She relaxed her throat, and took him all the way down to his balls.

  "Damn,” he managed. “Damn."

  And as she sucked and licked on Erick's yummy cock, Tarn positioned himself behind her, lifting her hips until she was kneeling with her ass up, and he—thank the ever-loving gods—pierced her swollen cunt. His penis filled her, stretching her to the limit.

  "Oh, hell,” she murmured.

  It was an interesting rhythm. Tarn plunging into her from behind, and Erick thrusting into her mouth. Nothing had ever felt so good. It was like she'd been searching for a place to belong her whole life, and she'd found it. Here, with them.

  "I'm going to come,” cried Erick. “Cass, baby. Please."

  She grabbed his shaft at the base and suckled his quivering head. Then he was groaning, shouting, and shooting hot seed down her throat. She swallowed and swallowed, and sucked on him until he was dry.

  And still Tarn pounded into her. He'd forgotten gentle, thank heavens. Erick scooted out from underneath her, and she planted her hands on the bed, and closed her eyes.

  Sparkling pleasure coiled in her womb. She could hardly draw in a breath. Then Tarn cried out, and pierced her deeply. Damn. She felt his spasms as his come filled her.

  Sweat dripped from her neck and splashed the coverlet. As Tarn withdrew from her she collapsed to the bed, and rolled over. Before she could even complain—hello, where's my orgasm—Erick slid on top of her. He was as hard as a fucking steel rod.