The Billion-were Needs A Mate (The Alpha Billion-weres Book 1)

by Georgette St. Clair

  “Huh.” Chantelle considered the idea. “That might potentially work. You’re not as dumb as you look.”

  “I look dumb?” Cliff raised an eyebrow.

  “Just because you’re so pretty. Life wouldn’t be fair if you were that hot and also intelligent.”

  He shrugged, a hint of a smug smile tugging at his lips. “Well, we already know life’s not fair. So there you are.”

  “You’re lucky my family’s business just got a couple of huge new contracts and they’re too busy right now to worry much,” Chantelle sighed. “Dad’s running around interviewing and hiring new staff and doing tons of paperwork, so that’ll help keep him and Mom out of your hair for a little while at least.”

  “Oh, congrats!” Taylor said enthusiastically. She meant it. The Zywickis had struggled when they were first starting up their business. She’d been in grade school then. But they’d always made sure she was fed when her mother forgot to feed her, and they’d bought her clothing and new knapsacks for school so she wouldn’t have to wear ill-fitting, stained castoffs. Every bit of success they had delighted her.

  “Was that luck?” Cliff countered. Taylor and Chantelle both stared at him.

  “Wow. Both of those new contracts came totally out of the blue, and they doubled the size of our company overnight. You got us those contracts to keep him busy.” Chantelle’s eyes widened. “But those weren’t Bronson companies. They weren’t even in the same business. One of them was a tractor supply company and one of them was a mall management company.”

  “We have more shell companies than there are stars in the sky,” Cliff said. “You never know when they’ll come in handy.”

  “Damn, you’re conniving,” Taylor said with grudging admiration.

  “My parents will still want to come to the wedding. And from what you’ve told me, it’ll actually be a mating ceremony. And you guys are going to turn into wolves at some point and run into the woods for a while. That’s going to be a little hard to explain,” Chantelle pointed out.

  Cliff snorted. “Two ceremonies, of course. We just have to wait until after the full moon, and after the trials are done. Then we’ll have the traditional mating ceremony here, and another one outside the pack property, with an actual priest, in a church, for human friends and family.”

  “You’ve thought of everything,” Chantelle conceded. “This could work.” She glanced at Taylor. “He’s smart and sexy. Wow. I can’t even come up with an insult right now.”

  “Oh God, no. No, Chantelle, don’t feed his ego,” Taylor begged her.

  “Too late.” A smirk spread all the way across Cliff’s face. “I’m too sexy for my clothes,” he hummed to himself.

  “See? See? You’ve created a monster.” Taylor shook her head reprovingly. “Well, technically he was already a monster, but you’ve made him even worse.”

  “Deal with it. You’ve got a sexy billionaire boyfriend, and I’m trapped here under guard twiddling my thumbs.” Chantelle glanced over at Rusty, who was staring at her. “What are you looking at?” she yelled.

  He snarled. “A rude, obnoxious creature who reminds me why I hate humans,” he yelled back.

  “Come over here and say that.” Chantelle smiled menacingly. Even though she was only five foot four, she somehow managed to look rather frightening when she did that.

  “And have you cattle-prod me? Thanks, I’ll pass.” He looked away in disgust.

  Chantelle sighed. “It’s going to be a long ten days. But at least I can amuse myself by doing everything possible to annoy the living crap out of him every waking minute of the day.”

  At that, Taylor grinned. “If he wasn’t one of Jerrold’s men, I’d feel sorry for him. Oh, hey, here’s James plus rugrats.”

  James came striding up to them, hands in his pockets, whistling. He was accompanied by four of his cubs, whom he introduced and whose names Taylor promptly forgot. They ran off with Roger and Dax, chasing each other through the bushes. Taylor watched them. She could have children like that someday…children who could turn into wolves. They’d be fierce and strong, and they’d be children of nature, at home both in the world of man and in the forest.

  If she decided to stay.

  “You look as if you have some good news for us,” Cliff said.

  “Better than good. Amazing. Leota’s injuries are even worse than we thought. She’s near death, in fact.”

  “Quit smiling,” Taylor said, appalled. “That’s horrible. Why is that good news?”

  “Because her injuries are so severe that she has to stay in seclusion with Anita to be healed for the next two weeks. More than enough time to get us past the Alpha Trials.” He winked at Taylor. “And there is no provision in the pack charter for appealing the healer’s diagnosis and treatment plan, or even getting a second opinion. Grant apparently checked all of that. The Elders can do nothing, Jerrold can do nothing. A little bird told me that he beat one of his packmates into a near coma when he got the news. But I know which packmate it was, and the guy was a nasty, abusive bully, so it’s no loss.”

  “Oh, thank God. Finally, some relief for that poor woman. Do you have any idea how she got that bloody nose and split lip?” Taylor asked James. “I believe Jerrold was telling the truth about never hitting her in the face, because he’s the type who’d leave bruises where they don’t show. So I don’t think he did it.”

  James shrugged. “No idea. I assume she did it to herself. I’m not entirely clear on how we got word to her to do that, but obviously someone did, and it worked.”

  “James winked at you,” Cliff complained to Taylor, and his claws curved out of his fingertips.

  “Seriously?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Seriously?” James echoed her. “If Anita were here, she’d kick your ass for suggesting that I’m checking out your mate, Alpha or no. And then she’d refuse to heal you afterwards.”

  “Sorry.” Cliff groaned and retracted his nails. “It’s not rational. I know. I just can’t stand the thought of… Never mind, I’m being ridiculous.”

  “Yes, you are.” Taylor reached out and took his hand. “So, the trials start tomorrow…I suppose you have to conserve your strength and all that.”

  He snorted. “No. That, thank God, is not in our charter. In fact, I think it’s time we bade everyone good night.”

  “You’re going off to have hot sex with a billionaire and leaving me here with Tweedle-Dumb and Tweedle-Dumber?” Chantelle glowered at Rusty and Truman.

  “It’s a dirty job – trust me on this – but someone’s got to do it,” Taylor said, with an affectionate glance at Cliff. Then she threw her arms around Chantelle and hugged her. “I’m glad you’re here. I missed your stupid face. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  As she and Cliff headed off, Chantelle yelled, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

  “So pretty much everything’s on the table, then,” Taylor called back, and she felt a glow of warmth. She was used to seeing Chantelle pretty much every day or so, and having her there on pack property was great. It was going to suck when Chantelle left; it was a three-hour drive to her house.

  Back in Cliff’s room, he shut and locked the door behind him.

  “A dirty job, eh?” He grinned fiercely. “You are a sassy one. Are you going to be more respectful when you’re my mate?”

  “Hell, no. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet. I’m going to be ten times snarkier.”

  “Thank God. I love your smart mouth. I love everything about your mouth. And I love…the rest of you.”

  He pushed her up against a wall and tangled his hands in her hair. His gaze bored into hers with burning intensity. “Look at me. I love you, Taylor.”

  She looked up at him, heart hammering in her chest. “You’ve only just met me in person this week. How can you know that?”

  “Because I’m a wolf. Because I’ve wanted you all year long and thought I could never have you. Because when we know, we know. You’re the one. You’re my
person. You’re sexy and strong and caring, and a loyal friend, and smart as hell.”

  She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “I want to say it back, but I want to mean it. I’ve been madly in lust with you from the first time you Skyped me. I’ve spent a year fantasizing about you, wanting you, imagining you doing all kinds of perverted things to me. But we humans…we take a little more time. There’s no-one else I want, and I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. But I just… I just…”

  “You talk too much,” he growled, and bent his head to claim a kiss. His lips were warm and demanding, and when she parted her lips, he slid his tongue against hers with a slow, sensual confidence that made her moan into his mouth.

  He leaned in to her, pressing her back against the wall, bracing his hands against it so he was caging her in with the heat and strength of his big body. She ran her hands up his forearms and let them rest on the flexing bulges of his biceps, feeling the coiled power and strength in his muscular arms.

  He explored her mouth slowly and thoroughly, chewing gently on her lower lip, then soothing the spot with his tongue before returning to give her another searching, soul-deep kiss. It was like being devoured.

  She gave a little whimper of need as he stepped back from her, but then he turned his attention to her body, running his hands over every generous curve as he sank to his knees, looking up at her with a wicked grin on his face. She bit her lip to stifle a moan as he unbuttoned her pants and yanked them down, then curled his fingers under the waistband of her panties and drew down the silky scrap of fabric. She was already wet.

  She didn’t have time to feel embarrassed, because Cliff eased her thighs apart, kissing his way up the insides with nips and grazes that made her shudder with desire. He hooked his hands behind her knees, bracing her, and she was grateful for his support and the wall at her back as he took a long, slow lick of her pussy.

  He mumbled his pleasure against her slick lips, then probed her entrance with his stiff tongue, dipping inside and withdrawing again, making her nerves sing and her knees tremble. He French-kissed her pussy, lavishing it with slow licks and curling, swirling motions of his tongue. Bliss coiled in her belly and she let her hands flutter to rest on his shoulders, closing her eyes and letting the sensation take her.

  Then he angled his head, looking slyly up at her from under half-lowered lids as he lashed her clit with his tongue, flickering it against her swollen, slippery flesh. Her rising, breathless moans turned into a broken cry of climax and she clutched his shoulders for support, weak and dizzy with the force of her release.

  As he stood, sliding his hands eagerly back up her body, she clumsily kicked away her pants and panties where they were puddled around her ankles. He helped her to strip away her blouse and bra before swinging her, naked, into his arms and carrying her across the room to lay her on the bed. She lay there bonelessly, watching as he stripped away his clothes, revealing his gorgeous, sculpted form. His muscles flexed smoothly beneath satiny golden skin with every economical movement. Her eyes lingered on the planes and valleys of his six-pack abs before drifting lower to drink in the sight of his gloriously erect cock. Thick, proud, darker than the rest of his body, and with a smear of glossy fluid glistening on the head.

  She shifted restlessly on the feather comforter as he crawled up the bed towards her, looking graceful, predatory…and hungry. His gaze was intent on hers, and the look in his eyes reminded her that there was something wild inside him.

  He pressed his body against hers, a warm and delicious weight on top of her, and as he kissed her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back thirstily.

  He drew back and looked down at her. Taylor felt lost in the smoky whiskey gold of his gaze. “I love you, Taylor,” he murmured.

  She bit her lip, wanting to respond but still uncertain. “I…”

  “Shhh,” he admonished her, and the sweet pressure of his lips on hers silenced her.

  His kisses became hotter, hungrier, and Taylor responded with all the passion she felt, saying with her body what she couldn’t yet put into words. She planted her feet on the mattress, knees drawn up so that she was open to him, and shifted her hips to help him find the right angle to enter her. He slipped in smoothly, her folds slippery with arousal, and started a rapid, rolling stroke that made her gasp. She trailed her fingers down his back and clutched his flexing buttocks, digging her fingers into the firm flesh and urging him inside her harder and faster.

  But Cliff wouldn’t let himself be hurried. He maintained the pace he’d set even when Taylor thrashed and moaned beneath him, sure the slow, thorough rise to pleasure would drive her crazy. Every stroke of his cock was a shuddering thrill of pleasure inside her. Every flex and thrust of his body was a ripple of lust through her limbs. She mewled mindlessly, pressing her lips feverishly to his face and throat, urging him on with incoherent sounds of need.

  He only stuttered in his rhythm when her muscles locked and her core clenched around him. He gave an agonized cry, low and animal, and thrust feverishly into her spasming pussy as she came around him. She arched towards him, helpless in the throes of her orgasm, and he buried his face in her breasts, smothering his roar of release against her body.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Taylor held the creamy sheet of paper in one hand. Cliff had been gone when she woke up, but this time he’d left a note behind on the pillow. He’d written the word Cliff, and drawn a heart, and then written the word Taylor. It made her smile, even as her stomach was tied in knots of worry.

  She folded it up and stuck it in her pocket.

  He’d sworn up and down that he’d be fine. Nobody was in better physical shape than him, and a Dominus werewolf could recover from severe injuries.

  But still.

  She was sitting on the front row of the bleachers at the finish line, waiting to see if Cliff was actually going to show up in one piece or not. The reality of it was just starting to sink in. He could be seriously hurt. He could die.

  Chantelle sat next to her on one side, and James sat on the other. Truman and Rusty were there, guarding Chantelle. Serafina and Dax and Roger were sitting in the same row.

  There were booths with food, and the air was thick with tension and testosterone – like being at a particularly contentious sports match between hated rivals. Jerrold’s crew sat on one side of the field, and Cliff’s sat opposite them. Several fights had already broken out. The Hidden Hills Police Department roamed through the crowds, trying to keep the peace.

  The Elders sat in the front row of another set of bleachers, listening to two-way radios.

  Should I have said I love you? Taylor thought miserably, holding a rapidly cooling cup of coffee in her free hand. Will I get another chance? He couldn’t actually die, could he?

  “I’m Team Austin,” Serafina informed Taylor and Chantelle. “I have to be. He’s my favorite uncle.”

  “That’s fine. We’re all on the same team, basically. We’re rooting against Jerrold,” Taylor pointed out.

  “I’m down with that. What a flaming asshole.” Chantelle said loudly, then glanced at Serafina and cleared her throat. “Sorry. What a flaming…jerk.”

  “Oh, Iike I’ve never heard the term asshole before,” Serafina scoffed. She glanced at her brothers. “You’re not allowed to say that word. Deal with it,” she added as they started to argue.

  “Chantelle, could you try not to be a terrible influence, for maybe just like five minutes?” Taylor scowled at her best friend.

  Chantelle grinned. “I could try, but I’d fail.”

  “I like your friend,” Serafina said. “Maybe she could teach me some new swearwords. I’ve lived a very sheltered life.”

  “Stick with me, kid, we’ll go places.” Chantelle glanced at a food booth. “Like over there to buy some sandwiches. And chocolate chip cookies.”

  “Cookies, you say?” Roger looked at her hopefully.

  “You look malnourished. You should have at least five
,” Chantelle pronounced. Roger and Dax gazed at her with utter adoration.

  “This early?” Taylor frowned at Chantelle.

  “You know, we really like you, but we might like your friend a little bit more. Even if she is human,” Roger said solemnly to Taylor, and they headed over to the food booths.

  Rusty leaped to his feet, and he followed Chantelle, Serafina and the kids all the way to the food booth. Truman trailed behind them. Taylor couldn’t tell what Chantelle was saying to Rusty, but from the laughter of the children and Rusty’s annoyed look, it probably involved spicy language that she wouldn’t have approved of.

  The morning felt as if it were dragging on forever. The hot sun beat down on them, and Taylor dumped out her coffee and got a bottle of ice water and tried not to worry. Loudspeakers boomed out the progress of the contenders. Grant had gone first. He’d passed the first set of obstacles…the second…the third… He was at the finish line, and he’d made it, well under the time limit.

  He came back and joined them, drenched in sweat and mud. “Anybody want a hug? Nobody?” he said, as Serafina and her brothers shrieked with laughter and dodged him. He took them to the booths to buy them treats.

  “They already had cookies! No more sugar!” Taylor yelled after them.

  “Tattle-tale!” Roger complained.

  “Donuts don’t have sugar, right?” Grant called back over his shoulder.

  “Whatever.” Taylor waved them off. “When it comes time to peel them off the ceiling, you’re on your own.”

  Jerrold was next. Unfortunately, Jerrold made it through the obstacle course just fine, and his time was good too – only thirty seconds slower than Grant.

  Next was Cliff’s turn.

  * * * * *

  The obstacle course was over two miles long, doubling back on itself several times so the audience wouldn’t lose sight of the contenders. It was constructed from sturdy timber, and tested speed, strength and agility. It was clear why the others had finished the course in such a filthy state – there was a section of the course that could only be completed by swimming underwater, with nowhere for Cliff to surface for air if he got into trouble, and other sections where he’d have to crawl on his belly underneath vicious razor wire. He’d already scaled sheer walls and climbed an intricate structure that required leaps over massive gaps hundreds of feet above the ground. Any one of those falls would be enough to kill a human outright, and the lurching sensation in Taylor’s stomach each time Cliff’s muscles bunched and he launched himself into the air told her that even a werewolf, Dominus or not, could crack his skull or break his back. Could he heal from something like that? She didn’t know.