Wolf's Heart: Bayou Wolves #3

by Anne Marsh

  If I could, I’d kill Big Red all over again. Keelie Sue should have come to me and let me take care of her dad. She should have trusted me to spring those girls.

  I glare at the water rippling away from the boat. On a scale of zero to ten, her trust level is an insultingly negative number.

  “I told her I’d take care of things,” I grunt, steering the boat out into open water. The current runs deeper, faster here, and we pick up speed. Eli leans against the railing beside me, not taking his eyes off my mate. Guess he really doesn’t trust her now, and I can’t blame him.

  “She coulda said no before tonight,” he points out. “Could have asked for help. Could have not pulled her piece and threatened your wolves. She didn’t do any of those things.”

  Fuck, but Eli is as blunt as a bullet himself. Good to know what he thinks and where he stands—he’ll never bullshit me—but I don’t like the truth. No big deal. I’ll get used to it, right? Whatever feelings I have, Keelie Sue doesn’t have the matching set. I might be thinking like and lust—because not even in my head am I touching the third L word, love—but she stinks of fear. Kinda don’t like that either.

  “Keelie Sue’s got a lesson to learn,” I agree, knowing she can hear me. She flinches, her fingers tightening on the edge of the boat. I keep an eye on her in case she decides to do something really stupid, like try to swim for shore, but she doesn’t budge from where I set her.

  “You don’t have to be the one to teach it to her,” Eli points out. I’m not sure what he’s suggesting, but I won’t tolerate anyone else touching Keelie Sue. “Maybe you should cut her loose, kinda like those girls in the cage.”

  “I’m keeping her.” Kinda like hearing those words. Would be even better if she said the same about me, but I’ll work on that. I read a bumper sticker once about today being the first day of the rest of my life. The way I see it, tonight is the first night in the rest of our lives. Keelie Sue isn’t getting rid of me. I don’t know what our time together meant to her—maybe it was just sex or a family obligation—but I’ll make every second count from now on.

  KEELIE SUE

  Jace didn’t mess around. He pulls the boat into a private dock, barks a few words at Eli (who takes the wheel), and then he comes for me. Not like he has far to go—I’m still right where he put me, four feet away on the bench—but it’s hard to look away. He’s a big, rough outline storming toward me, and then his hands bite into my waist and I fly off the bench and over his shoulder. Guess the romance part of our relationship is definitely over.

  His shoulder presses into my stomach, and I focus on not puking down his back. He swings us up onto the dock, then strides down it. Since he’s providing the transportation and I’m too tired to do any more worrying tonight, I count planks. He needs to get a handyman out here or pick up a hammer because his dock is missing approximately every sixth board. I can see the dark bayou water through the gaps.

  His heart pounds, the beat vibrating through his back, and his musky, feral scent surrounds me. He’s pissed as hell, but he’s also still Jace. And yeah, I want him. Maybe if we have sex things will straighten out somewhat with him. At the very least, it would give him an outlet for some of the frustration and anger surging through him.

  He takes a set of porch steps two at a time and kicks open a door. Without turning on any lights, he strides down a hallway and then carries me upstairs, his booted feet eating up the stairs two at a time. When he reaches the landing, I try to shove up, but he slaps my butt. The contact has my blood humming and heat rising, because the attraction between us is crazy good. Emphasis on crazy at the moment.

  “Don’t,” he growls. That one word covers a whole lot of territory.

  We’re in a bedroom, at least that’s my conclusion from the big-ass four-poster bed. Looks kind of like the last bed he tied me to, but I don’t recognize the room. A second later, I’m on my back on the bed, and he comes down over me.

  “I bought furniture for you,” he growls. Why he wants to talk about his furniture right now confuses me. After the stunt I pulled tonight, I’d think my opinions on his interior decorating are completely irrelevant. His face is scary as hell. Fierce. Focused on me. I’ve spent a lifetime hiding in plain sight of the pack, but when Jace looks at me, he sees me.

  While I stare, he pulls his belt free of his jeans and lashes my hands to one of the posts. I buck instinctively. He wants to make me vulnerable when I need to be strong? Well, fuck him. The words sound so good in my head that I repeat them out loud.

  “Fuck you.”

  “Working on it,” he grunts, then pulls out a knife and slices my halter top off. Holy. Hell. The slick glide of the metal over my heat-flushed skin is… arousing. Apparently I’m all screwed up in my head because, yeah, I like it. I also still like him, which is a problem. Tossing the blade aside, he yanks my jeans down.

  “You want to have sex now?” I can feel the hysterical laughter bubbling up inside me. It’s so not a good time to have a fit of the giggles, but it’s been one hell of a night, and I’ll never, ever figure this wolf out.

  His hands grab my ankles when I kick. “If you were trying to kill me, your aim sucks.”

  His doesn’t. He shoves between my thighs, his hands going to the buttons on the front of his jeans. God. He still has his boots on. Funny how fear and lust can get so mixed up. My feelings for Jace bounce around inside my head and my heart, all confused and stuck together. I rejected his mate claim, I tried to run from him—and I’ve never been so glad to fail in my life.

  “Don’t ever run from me again,” he snarls.

  “Don’t push me.” God help me, but I don’t know where the words come from. Just that I’m tired of being told what to do, and how and when to do it. I might be wolf and pack, but I’m also human and I have rights. He can take his attitude and his orders and shove them both where the sun doesn’t shine. Even if I don’t want to kill him. “Get off.”

  I buck up again and he grins. A mean, pissed-off grimace. “Make me,” he says.

  He notches himself at my entrance, and frowns. He licks his fingers, getting them wet, and then coats me. His touch should be disgusting, a violation, but instead it feels primitive. Like a mark of his possession, and I don’t care. I want this. Jace isn’t nice, and this won’t be sweet, slow Hallmark sex. It’s going to hurt. I’ll burn, my body stretching to accommodate his because he’s bigger and stronger, but I’m going to make this all about me. I’m going to take him.

  Step one? Make my intentions clear. “Do it,” I demand.

  He freezes, then growls. His dick pushes against my entrance, reminding me just how big he is. Everywhere. He slams into me, pushing deep inside my body. There’s no keeping him out, and I don’t want to. I shriek as he pounds into me, marking me from the inside out. I brace my legs on the mattress, canting my hips up to take him deeper. He tears inside me, and it feels so good I see stars. No. Not stars. I see Jace.

  He rides me hard, and it’s perfect. His big hands fist my hair, the rough tug echoing the harder, brighter pulse of pleasure in my pussy. He fills me up and takes me—and offers me something in exchange. Himself. I hate him. I… love him. He thrusts into me over and over, driving us both toward the edge. And when my orgasm explodes through me, I wrap my legs around his hips and seal him to me as my brain shuts down. All I can do is feel.

  Jace over me. In me. Surrounding me with his big body, his power and heat. He comes with a rough groan, spilling himself deep inside me. We haven’t used a condom I realize through the exhaustion creeping over my sated body. Guess it doesn’t matter—it’s not as if I have to worry about the future right now. For a long moment, he lies against me, and I run my foot up and down his leg.

  When his breathing evens out, I hear the wet, intimate sounds of him pulling out of my body. He zips up and hesitates. For a moment, I’m not sure what’s coming next, but then his big hands reach up and untie me, sliding his belt free and dropping the leather onto the floor beside the bed.
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  JACE

  Two days later I walk into the clubhouse, and a couple of facts hit me right off. First, Keelie Sue isn’t there. She’s made her dislike of the pack clear, but apparently I’m stupid and harbored hopes. I wanted to see her come and stand with me, and now that obviously isn’t happening. So, okay. I’ll deal with her absence next. Second fact of the day that hits me? This place is mine now. I challenged the Alpha, and I won. His pack is mine, and they follow my orders.

  Holy. Fuck.

  I hadn’t thought that one through. Okay, so I was pumped full of adrenaline, and Big Red hadn’t endeared himself to me. Maybe I’d lost myself a little in my undercover role too. I’d come here and played the big bad wolf, but thing is—it isn’t a role most of the time. I’m a mean bastard, and I’m good at hurting things. At hurting people. And while I might be able to fight worth a damn and I understand loyalty, I’m not so good at loving. I’m not expecting to look at the crowd of assembled wolves and feel anything other than possessive.

  They’re mine now.

  If they get out of line, I’m responsible for kicking their asses.

  The problem is that I’m also on the hook for keeping them safe and maintaining their all-round happiness. Fuck. I have no idea why I thought I could be an Alpha, but being anything but a good one stings. Somehow I’ll have to figure it out. When I take another good look around the room, several of the older wolves stare back, assessing me. They don’t step forward to challenge however. Guess they’re okay with the change in leadership. I count, and come up with thirty wolves. We’re missing five males.

  Ware steps forward, tilting his dark head so I can see his throat. Black ink covers most of the skin there in harsh lines. Nothing soft about this wolf. “Alpha.”

  Funny how one word changes things so much. Ware isn’t some cocksucker looking to shake things up. He’s run with the Breed for a long time, and he’s more than a pair of broad shoulders or a scarred face. He fought with Big Red, and I’ve gotten the distinct impression he disagreed with the dead Alpha on more than one occasion—and now he’s transferred all that loyalty to me.

  “We’re gonna clean house,” I announce, sweeping the assembled males with my gaze. “No more of this terrorizing the locals crap. The arms dealing is done, as are the drugs.”

  “You want us to go legal?” Ware straightens up, but he doesn’t step back and he’s setting the pattern for our relationship right there. Fine by me. I take a step forward, my shoulder slamming into his and forcing him to move. He grins, flashing his canines at me, but then moves back. The man is solid, and I appreciate that.

  “Mostly.” I glance over my wolves. I definitely have asses to kick there. “We’re keeping our territory, and we’re gonna run it, but some stuff’s off the table.”

  I try to imagine what Cruz would say and come up blank. My big brother is the local sheriff—he’d shut down the Breed entirely. I’m not planning on running arms or drugs, and the reign of terror is definitely over, but there’s still plenty about the MC that I love. Good stuff that I don’t plan on losing.

  “We’re about riding and running,” I say slowly, thinking it through. A few heads nod, so I kept talking. “We’re about staying free. If no one gets up in our faces, we don’t get in theirs.”

  “And if someone gives us trouble?” The question comes from a lanky, muscled wolf lounging in the corner, arms crossed over his chest. Blade earned his name because of his scary talent with knives and I have to wonder if he’s planning a little backstabbing or throat-cutting from his corner.

  “We kick his ass,” I growl. “We’re wolves, not kitty cats. You’re gonna fill me in on all the details, and then I’m gonna decide which businesses we’re keeping.”

  To my surprise, Ware nods slowly. “Losing the arms and the drugs will get law enforcement off our backs, and that’s not a bad thing.”

  Guess I know where I’ll be finding a second lieutenant. I make a mental note to tell the wolf he just scored himself a job interview and then get back to the business at hand.

  “No more girls, either,” I tell them, giving them another hard look. “You want pussy, you pay for it, you ask for it, or you work for it. No more kidnapping girls, and no more putting your dick where it’s not wanted.”

  There’s some grumbling at that, and I pay attention to the wolves doing the complaining. They’re my potential problem children right there. Neither Ware nor Blade bitch about the moratorium, although Blade shoots me a wicked grin.

  “You calling time out on the pass-arounds too?” he asks.

  Fucker is testing me. “If they’re happy with the deal, not my place to complain, but we don’t cage ’em up and they’ve got the right to walk away. Those are my rules. Anyone doesn’t want to follow them, he’s welcome to leave right now. You got a mate, you better make damned sure she’s on board with staying with you. Big Red’s dating service is closed.”

  The bastard has plenty to answer for, and I hope he rots in hell. On the edge of the group, Fang kind of stiffens up, but he keeps his mouth closed. Guess his ambition to earn a place for himself in the pack trumps his interest in my Keelie Sue. Good thing, too, or I’d kill him. Would kinda still like to, as a matter of fact.

  “There going to be fallout from the mating ball?” Ware asks the question, but fuck if I know. Would help if I’d spoken with Cruz, but I’d been too busy chasing after Keelie Sue.

  “We’ll deal with it if and when it happens,” I decide, “but right now we’re clear. Eli here got the ladies out of the cage before the boys in blue spotted them, so that’s one bullet dodged.”

  Ware nods. “They won’t talk?”

  “Up to them, but who’s gonna believe them? There’s no trail leading to us, and werewolves kidnapped me sounds pretty fucking far-fetched. As long as they keep their mouths shut, we leave them alone.”

  “And if they talk?”

  “You bring it to me.” Not that I have any idea what I’ll do. Killing an innocent woman whose only real crime is being pretty and crossing paths with Big Red? Yeah. That doesn’t sit well. I’ll have to figure something out when and if it happens.

  We run through some more club business, and I lay out how it’s gonna go. It’ll take time to undo the mess Big Red made of the pack, but I have to figure it out. I’m not comfortable knowing that the other wolves are depending on me, but I’ve done the challenging and the killing too, so I’ll have to figure out this next part as well. And I have to figure shit out with Keelie Sue.

  Ware falls in with me when I leave the clubhouse. “Some of the wolves have mates,” he observes. “Hasn’t been my business what they do in their off-hours, but sounds like you’re making it yours.”

  “Anyone wants to walk, she walks.”

  “Uh-huh.” Ware pauses by a big black Harley. The brother’s bike is as beat up as the wolf himself. Nothing pretty about the paint job or the scratched-up chrome, but it’s built for speed. He’ll eat up the road and then some. “You took Big Red’s daughter.”

  The words hang in the air between us.

  “She walks if she wants,” I tell him, because it has to be said. I can’t give my wolves one set of rules and then choose a different set for myself. Plus, it’s the right thing to do. I’m not going to be another Big Red, even if just the thought of parting with Keelie Sue makes my wolf howl.

  Ware swings a big leg over the bike. “You wanna ride?”

  I do. I want to grab my bike, point it to the open road, and get the fuck out of here. I can feel responsibilities closing in on me, and even though I’ve chosen them for myself, it’s kinda like getting hit with a shit tsunami. And truth is? I only have one place to be now, and that’s on the road to Keelie Sue’s. She didn’t come and I have a few miles to accept that. I called the pack together, and she chose to be somewhere else. When I took her as my mate, I overlooked something essential. What I got was her body, and sweet as that is, that’s only a part of who Keelie Sue is. I didn’t win her head—or her heart. S
he’s mine—and yet not mine.

  What. The. Fuck.

  With a nod to Ware, I straddle my bike and let the engine rip, then ride out onto the street to open her up. The black ribbon of asphalt slips away beneath my boots, the wind stinging my face. Riding is the best, second only to running as a wolf. I love the power of the bike between my legs and the sheer speed. Fucking awesome. But no matter how fast I ride, there’s no outriding the truth.

  I love Keelie Sue and that means I have to set her free.

  KEELIE SUE

  I hear Jace before I see him. The roar of the bike’s pipes bounce off the houses, filling my ears and making it impossible to concentrate on anything but the coming showdown. Jace called a pack meeting for this morning—and I didn’t go. Honestly, I’m not sure the female pack members were invited, but even so… I should have been there. Standing by his side, nodding in approval and generally letting the other wolves know that things would be fine because we had a new Alpha and I was behind him one hundred percent. Instead I chickened out and stayed home.

  I’m not sure things are fine at all.

  He kills the bike and swings his leg over the seat, one big, black boot hitting the pavement. The expression on his face is fierce and forbidding, which is my first clue he noticed my absence earlier. He strides toward my front door, and for a moment, I think he’ll just push inside—I left the door unlocked because I don’t want to push him too far—but then he slams a hand against the wood. I guess that’s his version of a knock, and it’s as good as I get today.

  I hustle my ass to the door. When I open it, I’m eye-to-chest with Jace’s leather jacket, the scent of leather and male flooding my senses. I catch traces of motor oil and something rougher and woodsier. Jace.

  Carefully I tilt my head exposing my throat.