The Wolf's Bandit: Paranormal Shifter Romance: A Howls Romance

by Milly Taiden

  He sucked in a deep breath, puffed out his big chest and walked like the royalty he was trained to be from youth. When he stepped past the backend of the SUV, a ruby Camry car zipped by him, splashing water from a small puddle onto his shoes and slacks. He deflated like a balloon. Maybe arrogance wasn’t the way to approach this. His station got him into places most would never see, but there was something to be said about being nice and casual.

  Drying his shoes with a napkin in the SUV, he dabbed at his pants and decided it was a lost cause. Being a dark color, the water splotches didn’t show much anyway. Locking the truck again, he headed for the front entrance.

  Stepping inside, a heavy scent in the air grabbed his balls and squeezed like he was ready to come. He stepped back, putting a hand against the glass door. What the fuck? He bent forward, breathing deeply and slowly, hoping his sack would relax. He could get away with wet stains on the bottom of his pants—not sure about the crotch.

  “Sir,” a sweet voice called out, “are you okay?”

  He immediately straightened. “Yes, I am fine. Thank you for your concern.” He watched her worried eyes melt into love-struck twinklers. His accent. He’d forgotten how American women responded to foreign speech. His English was textbook perfect, but the casual slang and some colloquial phrasing he didn’t have down.

  Following the scent, it led to the elevator. From there, it would be hard to discern what floor to continue to. Frustrated for a reason he didn’t understand, he went back to the lady up front and asked which floor Mr. Loxley was on. When she stared at him with doe eyes, he put a bit of his alpha into his voice. “What is the floor for Safe Journeys’ CEO?”

  She snapped out of it, physically shuddering. He heard her heartbeat pick up and her body temperature rise. Well, shit. That was not what he was hoping for. He needed to get away from her. She looked down at the desk then mumbled fourth floor.

  He hurried into the elevator and pushed the four button. When the doors closed, he breathed out a sigh of relief. He had not remembered his dad saying anything about this type of reaction when he was visiting the States. Was that because it didn’t happen to him...or was he hiding it from Mom? That was easy to figure out. A jealous wolf was not a happy wolf—and all mates were jealous. Extremely.

  When the elevator slid open, the same smell as downstairs hit him in the gut. He realized it was familiar. He’d smelled it before. Thankfully, his balls stayed out of it this time. He followed the aroma down an aisle with several cubicles on both sides. Occasionally, a head would tilt up to look at him as he passed, but for the most part, they were all absorbed in work.

  The aisle led to a door on the far end and the closer he got to that door, the stronger the scent became. His step quickened without thinking. What was this? Why was it driving him so hard? His wolf whined. That’s when he knew he was in trouble.

  A young woman was suddenly in front of him, blocking his way, and he mowed over her, but caught her before she hit the floor. “I am so sorry, miss. I did not see you until it was too late.”

  Instantly she turned, flushing red, eyes softening. Not again. “No, it’s my fault. I should’ve said something before getting in your way.”

  Ah, so she was trying to stop him. He set her solidly on her feet. “There you are. Now, if you will excuse me, I am going in there.” He pointed to the door.

  She held her hand out. “Give me your name and I’ll announce that you’re here.”

  “Aitan Hansen.” He watched the girl lift a phone and push a button. On the other side of the door, he heard a buzzing. His wolf ears allowed him to hear conversations on both sides, but of course, he didn’t let on. When the female voice behind the door said to tell him she was in a meeting, he realized he was being blown off. His wolf flipped and made him barge to the door.

  He opened it among objections from the girl and stared at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

  3

  Robyn’s undies were soaked within two blinks. Sitting behind her office desk, she didn’t bother to stand. She wasn’t sure her legs would hold her up. The man in the doorway was a god in form and texture.

  Full bottom lip born to be teased between her teeth. Wide shoulders and chest meant for her nails to drag down as he pounded in and out of her. Her legs would wrap wonderfully around his narrow waist, heels on his ass, driving him in harder. And oh my god, his pants strained to hold his package. She so wanted to pull down the zipper and relieve the pressure he must be suffering from.

  Wait one damn minute. Were those her thoughts just now? Never had she even dreamed about kneeling and sucking a stranger off. She didn’t kneel for the few men in her past she had sex with. Going down on them in bed or on furniture was fine. She just couldn’t kneel and lower herself, subjugate herself, to someone else’s will. And that’s what it felt like to her.

  Despite that, she wanted him fucking her on the desk right this second.

  His eyes narrowed as he took in a deep breath. She swore she saw his dick twitch in his pants. His hands shoved into his pockets, constricting his crotch more. He closed his eyes with a second breath.

  A feeling formed in the bottom of her stomach. She was going to be sick. Sudden nerves, or something, made her feel weak, made her feel...vulnerable. She didn’t like that.

  “I’m sorry, Miss Loxley,” Kara said behind the man in the doorway. Oh yeah, they were in her office. With people. No bed. Her assistant ducked and stood on tiptoe but couldn’t see around him. “He just barged in.”

  “That’s fine, Kara. Thank you. I’ll talk to him.” And touch him, and eat him, and suck him, and fuck him and rip his clothes off—not necessarily in that order...

  His brows rose, changing his eyes from a dark to lighter shade. “Loxley?” he said. “R. Loxley?”

  She smiled. He was expecting a man to be in charge of such a big corporation. Nope, just little ol’ her. Standing, she held out her hand. “Robyn Loxley, CEO.” When he didn’t move, unsureness on his face, she asked, “And you are?”

  He quickly stepped forward, shaking his head as if coming out of a daze. “Of course, who am I,” he whispered under his breath. She smiled as he approached. He had been thrown off guard. His hand wrapped around hers and work-hardened skin brushed against her palm, sending tingles down her back. Could he be any more delicious? She felt a second batch of wetness escape her.

  His eyes widened a tad as his chest expanded. He turned and coughed unconvincingly. Thumping his chest, he turned and cleared his throat. “I am Aitan Hansen.”

  Fuck me. She almost melted as his smooth voice lilted over her. She released his hand and sat before she fell. With their contact broken, she was able to get a grip on herself.

  Aitan didn’t want to let go of her hand. But she had taken it away and sat behind the desk. From the moment he laid eyes on her while standing in the doorway, his brain had been scrambled. Even after she spoke, he didn’t comprehend English. Name? Whose name? He had a name?

  And the touch...he would always remember the second her skin fell against his. A shock he’d never experienced ran through him, short-circuiting what little brain cells he had. His wolf howled and pushed to get out. His hands almost shifted. And his dick was strangling in his pants. What the fuck was going on with his body? He’d been horny in his younger years, but this was off-the-charts insane.

  Had he given his name yet? Or was he standing there like an idiot, mouth hanging open? He chomped his teeth together to make sure. How could this woman smell familiar? He’d never seen her before in his life, had he?

  Had she ever been to western Europe? When her eyes widened, he realized he’d said it out loud. Apparently brain cells were still low in functionality.

  “I have not,” she replied. Her voice was like warm milk at night when he needed soothing from loneliness. “The R is for Robyn, by the way.” Her smirk was cute. So he had not asked her name. He would have gotten around to it.

  For a moment, they stared at each other. When he re
alized it, so did she, and they each had uncomfortable laughs.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. Hansen?” she asked him. Whoa, that was a loaded question. He thought of a lot of things she could do. Strip, strip him, lay out for him to taste. Shit, his dick was going to strangle for real now.

  He was about to tell her who he was, but he stopped. Instead he said, “Miss Loxley, I am investigating the theft of the Cloustien sapphire diamond tiara.” He watched her face closely and breathed deeper.

  She either had a great poker face, or she was clueless.

  “Oh, right,” she replied. “That happened a while ago. Was it found?”

  “No,” he answered.

  She sat back and smiled. “I’m not sure I can help in finding it. Is that why you’re here?”

  He answered, “I was hoping you or your men could recall seeing anything strange or out of place. Strange people lurking, or something that happened along the way.” He heard her heartbeat pick up slightly, but outwardly, she showed no sign of guiltiness. Damn, he was really hoping this would lead to more clues.

  Her beautiful eyes were narrowed in thought, her red nail tapping on her bottom lip. A lip he wanted to suck into this mouth and do all kinds of nasty things to.

  “I don’t remember anything, but I can ask the employees on that job,” she answered. “I’ll have to call operations to get the names.” He noted a sour whiff in the air so faint, he could have been imagining it. Sour meant something was up.

  He couldn’t get over how familiar she smelled. Maybe she had a relative somewhere he’d been before. Families shared a similar smell. Easy way for wolves to tell if someone was a stranger.

  “Mr. Hansen, your accent tells me you’re from eastern Europe, though you speak English very fluently.” Her arousal smacked him up the side of his head. He’d smelled many women’s want. What was so special about hers?

  “My—” he almost said people, “country has two official languages, English being one.”

  “Which country?”

  She would have to ask. “It’s a small area close to Lichtenstein. I’m sure you’ve never heard of it. We’re seldom in the news.”

  She stared at him and nodded more than usual. “I see.” She licked her lips and he cringed, feeling the imprint of the zipper along the side of his dick. He coughed and moved in the chair, trying to cross one leg and discovering that was not the right thing to do. Pinched balls were a pisser.

  Instead, he pulled his sports jacket closed and stood. Fortunately, the jacket’s length covered the junk. He jerked his hand out. “I should go. Thank you for your help.” Her hand slid into his, the same electricity streaming through him. He wondered if she felt anything. Desire beamed from her eyes. Yeah, she felt something. If he didn’t get out now, he would have her backside on the desk, naked. He spun around and hurried out, trying not to slam the door behind him.

  He hesitated against the closed door to pull himself together. When he looked around, several women stood in their cubes, staring at him. He waved, trying to keep from blushing, and bee-lined to the elevator.

  4

  Robyn sat in her office chair behind her desk, staring at the closed door. What the hell just happened?

  She felt like a tornado had ripped through her mind, taking away all logic and thoughts, leaving her a lost lump of horny emotion. Never had anything close to this happened to her. She looked at her coffee. Was she poisoned? No, that was silly.

  Shaking her head, she refocused on her monitor screen while the previous conversation played in her head. He’d asked about the tiara. So someone from the insurance company or the owner was now on the case. Guess they couldn’t take two of their treasures being stolen. It wasn’t truly her fault. If the asshole at the Cloustien Royal Foundation hadn’t been such a dickhead, they wouldn’t be going through this right now.

  She locked the door then pulled on the large return air vent near the floor to the side of the sofa. It slid open on silent ball bearings, revealing the special contents within. Using only her fingernails, she lifted the tiara in question a few minutes ago. It was beautiful and sparkly but served no purpose and didn’t cost money to anyone. No one was out except the insurance company and they made so much damn money, they could afford to pay out occasionally.

  She sighed, knowing she had to get rid of it soon. She’d held it too long waiting for the right time. Might as well be now. Traffic would be busy, and a lot of people would be out and around on foot.

  From the bottom drawer of her desk, she pulled out a plastic grocery bag she kept in case she needed to move merch secretly. Like now. Snagging several sheets of facial tissue from the box on her desk, she put the headpiece in the bag, surrounded by the fluffiest softness without a prescription for your snotty nose. She was very careful to never leave fingerprints on her goods.

  She slid her coat on, tying the belt, then hid the bag inside. Making sure the metal air vent was securely fastened, she glanced around to see if all else was closed-up for her to leave. Always cover your tracks was another secret motto.

  Walking out her office door, she said, “Kara, I’ll be out for the rest of the day.”

  “Don’t forget about dinner at Granma’s,” her assistant said in reply. Robyn nodded as she went by, waving a hand at her.

  In her car, she headed toward a bus stop several blocks away. The route had been basically the same each time over the years. She didn’t want to stray too far from the path or she might not ever make it there or back. And nothing was going to stop her from completing her mission once she’d started.

  She was so close to being done with this part of things. She wanted to wait until she had enough to sell for the full dollar amount she needed. But with the arrival of Mr. Hansen, plans had changed. Parking in a paid lot she kept on hand, she got out of the car and searched the area for eyes looking at her or anyone looking suspicious. Such paranoia was uncalled for, but she hadn’t been caught. Not broken, don’t fix it.

  The bus on the corner was loading and she joined the end of the line. The first of several before she returned home. She took a seat toward the back next to the window. Conversation was not her cup of tea when traveling. Besides, she wanted to think about the luscious Tootsie Roll that walked into her office not too long ago.

  She’d never seen someone like him. He was large everywhere...where she could see, at least. Even that midsection he tried to cover didn’t escape her notice. Her body’s reaction to him baffled her. Just looking at someone had never made her physically react, much less soak her panties.

  Her heart pinged when realizing she may never see him again. It was for the best. She didn’t have time for men and their bullsh—maintenance. Robyn grabbed her coat’s lapel and flapped it, releasing the hot air inside.

  She thought back to her last date. He was a senior manager she met at a conference. Their first date was okay. He was funny and smart. But when she laughed at something, he said it over and over until whatever was humorous became stupid and irritating.

  Then other picky shit irritated her. She couldn’t help it. Everyone had things that annoyed them, and he hit them all. Needless to say, there was not second date. She’d worn a sleeveless dress so it must’ve been at least five months ago. The last time she had sex was during Christmas when the guy told her that her gift was him. Of course, he said that after sex or she would’ve ripped his balls off. Arrogant piece of shit.

  She simply didn’t have interest...until now. And the interest was intense. Shaking her head, she had to get back into what she was doing. Where she was going, she needed all her brain cells and bad assery she could muster.

  After another bus, train, and subway, she strode through a strip center’s lot to a “business” on the end. She hesitated outside the door for the cameras to pick up her image. Mr. Notham did not like surprises.

  The door clicked and she pulled it open, clear surgical gloves on both hands. Two large men stood inside waiting for her. She didn’t know their names, so she made
up her own for them. “Well, if it isn’t Hans and Frans,” she said. “Long time, no see.” They never said anything, simply escorting her to the same office, to the same black-market dealer.

  “Hey, Seriff. Got something for you. How much you have on hand?” she asked. His brow raised over a face with heavy, hairy brows and beard. Out of everyone she’d ever met, he scared the shit out of her the most. But she couldn’t show it or she’d become lunch. The black marketer was huge, like Hulk huge. Bulging muscles, long, thick legs, even his damn teeth were long. The strangest thing about him were his eyes. Whenever he got angry, they glowed.

  Everyone had heard of shifters living among the masses, blending in with humans. She’d bet dollars to donuts, Seriff was a shifter. In reality, she had no idea, but those damn eyes were freaking creepy.

  “What do you have for me, molodaya ledi.” He always called her young lady since she never gave him her name. She had to google the foreign word in a translator. She listened carefully to his voice. He sounded a bit like Mr. Hansen with the slight guttural sounds.

  “Where are you from, Mr. Notham?” she asked.

  Seriff sat back in his chair, knocked off guard at the question. Then his eyes narrowed. “Why do you want to know?” he asked.

  She gave a casual shrug. “I met someone who sounds sort of like you. I just wondering.”

  He remained quiet, as if thinking. “I am from Russia,” he answered.

  “Thank you.” She needed to get on with this. The shorter her time here, the better. She opened the plastic bag and poured the tiara onto the desk. Seriff’s eyes widened. A lot. Then his smile became lecherous.

  “If I am correct,” he started, “this is the stolen tiara from the royal European jewels exhibit.” She only nodded. He picked up the small crown and turned it in his hands. “Very beautiful.” He paused. “I give you fifty thousand.”

  “No less than seventy-five,” she retorted with her back straight and voice low. That would pay for about half of what she needed.