Silver Fox

by Kristen Strassel

  The room went wild.

  “Remind me this is a good thing,” Landon said as Fiona—very carefully—got down from the bar.

  “It is.” My daughter disappeared in a sea of hugs, well-wishers, and Bloodhounds ready to fill her dance card for the rest of the night. “I was never a part of her life in California. This very same thing would be happening, but I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t even know about it. I know it doesn’t seem like an improvement, but it really is.”

  “Hey, Fox.” Tyler Jones approached us, but unlike the other Bloodhounds, he didn’t touch Landon. He’d worn a black suit jacket over his button-down shirt and looked much more like a man than I remembered.

  “Now that Fiona’s official—”

  “Yeah, man.” Landon’s body relaxed. “I’d be honored if you took Fiona out. But—”

  “No spankings.” I finished the sentence for him.

  “Yeah, that. That dress says on. Anything she wears always stays on.”

  “Okay.” Tyler laughed. “I’ll do my best. But you two are already familiar with who I’m working with.”

  A cheer erupted somewhere behind me. I was afraid to look, and after a few more sips of my woowoo, or whatever the heck it was, I wouldn’t care anymore. Tyler extended his hand to Landon, and he took it in one of those complicated handshakes guys did when they were too manly to just hug each other.

  “Remember what I said.” Landon clapped his hand on Tyler’s shoulder before letting him walk away.

  We danced all night. Couple by couple, the party thinned out. I’d had too many woowoos and I couldn’t remember exactly what Fiona said when she left.

  “I don’t think they need us anymore.” I curled my fingers into Landon’s shoulders. “Let’s find a wall without an audience.”

  “It would be totally hot to take you in a room full of people.” His breath was scorching hot against my ear. “To make you scream in a crowd.”

  “I didn’t think you were into that sort of thing, Fox.” My body was going crazy with need.

  “I’m not, but you make me wild.”

  I ran my hand over his erection that strained against his jeans. “And we wonder where Fiona gets it from.”

  “I don’t want to think about Fiona right now.” His grip intensified on my ass. “I can’t think about anything but what I’m about to do to you.”

  I grabbed Landon’s arm. We’d been touching ever since he walked into the condo, but a fresh electric current ran through my veins. He led me through the thinned-out crowd, having much more experience with moving targets than I did. Anyone who wasn’t too lost in their partner or the wallabee drinks moved aside for us with a knowing smile. I might never know what it was like to run a route into the end zone for a touchdown, but I was willing to bet it felt damn close to this.

  Landon’s bedroom was at the top of the stairs. The bed was still made.

  “I was afraid what we might find in here at this stage of the party.” My chuckle was forced. I was having a hard time breathing. Landon and I had been together a lot in the last couple days, but with the few remaining stragglers here, the tension between him and Fiona dissolving, and these drinks, it was different this time.

  I loved that things could still be new between us. That I was getting to know Landon all over again. He wasn’t the same cocky up-and-coming football player I’d fallen in lust with all those years ago. He was a man who worked hard and was aware of his mistakes. He didn’t let them hold him back. He wanted to be better. He made me want to be better.

  “The guys might try to bust my balls but none of them would dare fuck in my bed.” The door clicked closed behind us and Landon pushed me against the wall, his body against my back. He moved my hair over my shoulder, his breath skittered over my skin and goosebumps rose in its wake. “Did I tell you you’re the most beautiful woman at this party?”

  “No, but even if you did, you can say it as many times as you want.” My hands were up against the wall as I surrendered to Landon. “It’s pretty easy to feel like the old fat lady in that crowd.”

  He exhaled, his breath hitting my shoulder with force. “You don’t see what I see.”

  “No, but something tells me I wish I did.”

  Grabbing my wrists, he secured my arms behind my back. My boobs jutted against the wall, and even though I was completely dressed, I was completely exposed. “I can fix that,” he said.

  A gorgeous floor to ceiling mirror leaned against the other wall. I’d woken up the last few mornings and gazed into it like I was still in dreamland—mussed from the night with Landon’s arm slung low across my stomach, over the crumpled sheet. I could tell myself I liked the mirror for its heavy wooden frame or the way it seemed to make the darkness go away on these long, cold nights. But the truth was, I liked how I saw myself in it.

  Landon stopped in front of the mirror with one hand on my wrists and the other on my throat. My pulse thumped to greet him. I needed to touch him in any way possible. His gaze was fixed on mine, even if it was just through the mirror.

  “This is what the most beautiful woman at the party looks like,” he said, my skin feeling like it was on fire when his gaze dropped to it. His grip loosened on my neck and he ran his finger lightly along the collar of my sweater, dipping down into the V of my cleavage.

  I wriggled to free my hands of his grasp, but he wasn’t having it. He shook his head and tightened his grip. I had no idea my heart could beat any harder, and the throbbing between my thighs joined in for good measure. His free hand flattened against my chest, running over my breast and squeezing it. The movement was followed with a caress so gentle it was frustrating through way too much clothing. If he’d let go of my hands, I would’ve torn the sweater to shreds. Given him my body and my soul.

  My head fell back on his shoulder. His grip tightened on my other breast. “Look at yourself, Jenna,” he commanded.

  Landon had me where he wanted me. He continued his journey, down my stomach, his hand hot against my silk camisole when he pushed my sweater up. I giggled at his soft grumble—I could’ve told him I was wearing too many clothes, but the stubborn beast didn’t want to listen. But his solution wasn’t as simple as mine. He ran his hand over the silk, the sensation of the soft fabric caressing my skin and the rumble that emitted from his body were enough to make my knees buckle. Each breath caught in my throat. He’d reached my breasts again, the sensation of his rough touch still pulsing on my skin when he returned.

  He slipped his hand out of my sweater and let go of me and sat on the edge of the bed. I was bewildered, lost already without his touch. I collapsed next to him on the bed. He had me riled up and that couldn’t be it.

  “Stand in front of the mirror and strip for me, Jenna.” Landon kept saying my name, making it sound more like sin each time.

  I nodded, my legs like rubber when I got off the bed. He grabbed my hand. “Only look at me through the reflection while you do it.”

  My gaze caught his in the mirror. His request was easier said than done as laughter rang out on the other side of the door. The effects of my Werewife Woohoos were wearing off, but if anyone was still here, they had to be pretty well lubricated. I wasn’t sure which one was more shocking: that we’d gone upstairs to fuck before everyone had left or that I considered Landon’s condo as mine.

  We really were a thing.

  I ran my hands over my sweater, drinking in his desire as I followed the path his hands had taken minutes before, grasping my own breasts, then pushing the sweater up but leaving the camisole so I could run my hand over the silk.

  Landon watched every move I made, his blue eyes unblinking, mouth open, breaths slow and deep. The air was thick between us. I pulled the sweater over my head and let it drop to the floor. Before doing the same with the camisole, I played with the lace because I enjoyed watching him squirm with need.

  But there was only so long I could take it, and I let it drop next to the sweater. Landon’s gaze followed the fabric, but was back
on me in an instant. I laughed. I was bursting, stupid in love with this man. We’d always shared a piece of our lives, whether we liked it or not, and it felt so good to let our walls come crashing down and actually be with each other.

  The belt was next. Once out of my jeans, I pulled it taut between my hands and ran it over my body. I’d been given one job—not to look directly at Landon. He’d made his fortune by following the rules. Otherwise I would have stretched the belt behind his neck and caged him in, making him kiss me all over, but that would have to wait for another time. Tonight we were playing by his rules, and it was my job to follow them.

  I made a show of bending over and stepping out of my jeans. Landon groaned, and there was only so long I could play by his bullshit rules. I winked at him before I rolled up.

  He was off the bed, the movement fast and fluid.

  “Why are you laughing?” he asked, his beard brushing against my cheek as he slid his arms around my waist.

  “Reasons.”

  He pulled me in tighter. “I want to know them.”

  “First, I tried that roll up move like I was the fabled stripper at this party and then you get up off the bed and it’s way more graceful than anything I’d ever pull off.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. We’d get back to the mirror game in a minute. “And I’m having fun. For once in my life, I’m not exhausted and sex doesn’t feel like a duty that I have to check off my list.”

  Landon didn’t answer right away. “You don’t have to work so hard anymore. I have plenty of money.”

  “It’s not about the money. If I wanted to make a lot of money, there are much easier ways to do it than opening a restaurant. I love what I do. It’s just that—”

  “You let it take over your life.”

  I nodded.

  “We’ll make this work, Jenna. We’re going to be stubborn and we’re going to fight, but promise you won’t walk away from me.”

  I turned into him. “I promise.”

  Landon pinched open my bra as he took my lips in a kiss that told me he made the same promise. We fumbled with the rest of our clothes, barely able to stop kissing long enough to get the job done. I took in his body. The hard muscle was mottled with some nasty bruises.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” He chuckled. “Seattle’s got one hell of a blitz package.”

  “I have no idea what that means, but those look like they hurt.”

  “They do, but by tomorrow, they’ll be gone.” Now I recognized his grin for what it was. A grimace. “That’s why they like shifters in the CFA. We don’t go down as easily as humans.”

  Once he’d stripped me bare, he turned me around again to face the mirror. This was a lot harder than I expected.

  “What do you see?”

  He had to be kidding. “Oh, you know, the usual. Saggy boobs, stretch marks—”

  “No.” Landon wasn’t interested in my laundry list, and I hadn’t even gotten to the cottage cheese on my thighs. “Want to know what I see? The mother of my child. A woman who didn’t rely on anyone else to make her dreams come true.”

  “When you put it like that, I guess I look pretty damn good.”

  The door rattled and I turned my head. Last thing we needed was a lost and drunken party straggler walking in on us. But no one did.

  “I’m going to claim you, Jenna.” His words were little more than hot breath against my skin.

  Yet I shivered. “What does that mean?” A lifetime ago, we’d talked about marriage in human terms but our negotiations had gone to shit before we could address the shifter component of the deal.

  “It means I’m going to bite you. Right here.” He traced a semi-circle on my shoulder. “And anyone who sees it will know you belong to me.”

  I had a thousand questions, like would it hurt and what did that mean for the future, but my body was going crazy. I wanted to belong to him. “They already know.”

  He rumbled, the vibration skittering through my body as he grasped my arms and sank his teeth into my skin. My head fell back with the sharp pain, but something I wasn’t familiar with flowed into my body—a sense of peace, and in its wake, relief.

  “Look at how beautiful you are.” Landon gently turned me back to the mirror. “Now put your hands against the mirror like a good girl and watch me fuck you.”

  IT WAS OFFICIAL. I couldn’t party anymore, and it was never more apparent than the morning after. How Landon and the rest of the team went to practice hours before the sun came up was beyond me. My head pounded and my body ached. But I had to drag myself out of bed. I had a very important appointment with a real estate agent.

  Today I was signing the lease on Ocho. My life was truly beginning again in Alaska.

  I propped myself up against the island in the kitchen. My best guess was production cleaned up after the party. Whoever it was, I considered them a superhero. The coffee that chased my aspirin turned my stomach, but something had to bring me back to life.

  “Hey, Mom.” Fiona looked gorgeous when she arrived at the condo. Her hair was in a braid so she could wear fuzzy white earmuffs, her makeup perfect, and she wore a cute sweater, jeans, and boots ensemble. I’d be way more envious if I wasn’t putting so much energy into simply existing.

  She pursed her glossy lips when she got closer. “Ooh. Someone partied a little too hard last night.”

  “This is what you have to look forward to now you’re an adult.” I groaned. Signing this lease would be interesting if the spins didn’t go away. “What did I miss?’

  She laughed way too loud. “You were the one who was freaking out that there might be strippers there, and you spent the entire party dirty dancing with Dad.”

  And much more than that. “Fiona.”

  “I was like yup, those are my parents, getting freaky on the dance floor.” She stuck out her tongue as she poured a cup of coffee.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. Did your dad and I horrify you with our behavior last night?” Payback was pretty sweet, even if she didn’t know the whole story.

  “No. Not that much.” She pressed her lips together and I wasn’t sure if she’d laugh or gag again. “Don’t worry, you’re not the only ones who got lucky last night. Some of the guys will be giving Dad serious props this morning.”

  I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. But the crawling part seemed like so much effort. So instead, I’d sit next to Fiona and hope her radiance was contagious.

  “Did you have fun last night?” I narrowed my eyes when her braid moved away from her neck. It could’ve been a shadow... I grabbed the braid. “Is that a hickey?”

  “Yeah, I know. Tackaroo, right?” She laughed, adjusting the braid over the bruise, but the image was burned in my brain forever. “Unfortunate party foul.”

  “Who gave that to you? You look like a shifter snack.” The term got tossed around at the condo for Werewives who couldn’t get a commitment out of a Bloodhound.

  “If you’d paid attention to anyone but Dad, you’d know.” She topped off my coffee. “Are you still signing the lease of the restaurant today?”

  “I am. The appointment is at noon.”

  She raised her eyebrows like she didn’t understand how I’d pull that off, and slid the coffee cup away from me. That was mean. “We need to get back to our condo. I’ll pick out an outfit for you while you’re in the shower, and I’ll blow out your hair.”

  “After coffee.” I took the mug back. “I’m signing a lease, not going to the prom.”

  Fiona shook her head. “First of all, we’ll have a camera crew in tow. I cannot let you go on TV like this. And secondly, you’re a badass bitch opening a brand-new restaurant. Celebrate your accomplishments.”

  “No more parties.” Please.

  She laughed. “I was thinking maybe a day at the spa? Naomi got me a gift certificate for a couples' massage, but if you’re interested, I’d rather bring you as my plus one.”

  “Thank you.” I leaned over and kissed h
er cheek. “You’re not so bad after all.”

  “I’m totally bad.” She flipped her braid over her shoulder, letting the hickey shine in the spotlight. “But now that you’re back with Dad, you see how good being bad can be.”

  Chapter Twelve

  LANDON

  I woke up to find a half-dozen Bloodhounds passed out and strewn across my living room floor. I made them coffee and fed them leftovers—Coach would kick my ass if we were too hungover for practice. Mondays were pretty low-key days where we went over game film from the day before. After those Wallbangers or Woowoos or whatever the hell they were, I couldn’t take too many hits to the gut today.

  “Great party last night, Fox.” Graham, one of my wide receivers, clapped me on the back. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “You know what you can do with your ‘old’ comments.” Even though I was feeling every one of my forty years this morning.

  “No way. I bow to you.” Graham wasn’t exactly a rookie himself. He reminded me a lot of myself—he lived and breathed football and had yet to settle down. But he was having a hell of a time with the Werewives. “I’m feeling it this morning, too.”

  “Things are getting pretty hot between you and Jenna.” Ray, one of my linebackers, said. “She’s Fiona’s mom? Did I hear that right?”

  “Yeah.” Everyone laughed when I growled. “Stay away from her.”

  “Which one?” If Ray wasn’t a dragon shifter, he probably wouldn’t be testing his luck. “Jenna or Fiona?”

  “Both,” I said. For once in my life, I would’ve been happy to see Tyler here, sleeping on my floor. But he and my daughter were nowhere to be found. Neither is half the team or any of the Werewives, my animal reminded me. Doesn’t mean a thing.

  “Let’s hit the road before Coach starts wondering where we are.” The guys had even cleaned up the condo. Jenna wouldn’t come downstairs to a mess. Shit. In my post sex, half-hungover haze, I forgot today was the day she was signing the lease on Ocho. I’d wanted to leave her flowers this morning, but I’d pick some up on the way home. We still had one more celebration in us. Maybe not as wild as fucking her up against the mirror after I claimed her, but something mellow.