The Mating Game

by Melissa Snark

His fingers remained tangled in her hair, but her hands freely roamed his body, her touch rough and punishing. Theresa’s nails dug into his muscular buttocks hard enough to hurt, delicious pain in sharp contrast to the unbearable pleasure.

  He thrust harder and faster, and she accepted him into her mouth without complaint. His cock struck the back of her throat, but she did not gag, instead pulling back, dragging and sucking along his length. Her fingers caressed his ball sac, so very gentle, but even that slight pressure brought him to the brink of bursting.

  The muscles of his abdomen clenched as his hips settled into a rhythm with her bobbing head, and the growl rumbling in his throat seemed to increase her greed for him. Theresa alternated the pressure of her mouth, suckling lighter, then harder, toying with him. His brain shut down and he could hold back his orgasm no longer.

  Zach threw back his head and roared with all the might of his wolf. His balls clenched, and the spasm spread from his groin throughout his abdominals, becoming a whole body clenching of muscles. His heart raced and his breath heaved. As he ejaculated into Theresa’s hot mouth, drowning in the crimson tide of pleasure, he heard the tile wall of the shower stall break with a sharp crack.

  Panting, he sank to a crouch and knelt beside her. He gathered her into his embrace and kissed her lips. Holding tight, they rested against one another…

  He wanted so much more than a fantasy.

  Zach leaned exhausted against the tile wall of the shower as the water poured across his skin, washing away his cum, his sweat, and the distinct scent of his arousal. And he sighed. Way too fucking long. He didn’t know how much longer he could wait for Theresa to make up her mind about whether she wanted him as just a friend or a lover too.

  ****

  A knock sounded against his front door a couple hours later. Zach padded barefoot through the cavernous rooms of his craftsman-style home. High vaulted ceilings made the house expensive to heat in the winter and difficult to cool in the summer, but the spectacular view more than made up for the inefficiencies.

  His house overlooked Iron Stone Valley and the city of Iron Stone, located in western Nevada, set on the eastern side, midway up a mountain. The treacherous drive along a single lane road tended to discourage door-to-door salesmen and all but the most determined visitors.

  Zach concealed his surprise upon finding Adam Teller, the Alpha and his pack leader, on his doorstep. He checked his watch; it was past four in the afternoon.

  Two of Adam’s bodyguards flanked him, standing three paces behind him. Every Alpha had an elite squad of such soldiers, numbering between two and six, who acted as enforcers and protectors. The guards existed outside of the pack’s rank structure and answered only to the Alpha.

  Zach’s brow rose. “Hello, Adam, what can I do for you?”

  “Zach, I’m sorry to disturb you at home.” Adam’s Texan drawl contained an undercurrent of tension. The apology came for the sake of good manners but lacked sincerity. The Alpha wasn’t the sort to concern himself with the convenience of others.

  “Please come inside.” Zach swung the door wider and stepped back to permit entrance.

  Adam swung around to address his enforcers. “Wait in the vehicle. I’d like to speak with Zach in private.”

  The guards gave curt nods of acknowledgement and turned to leave.

  “Thanks.” Adam stepped inside, removing his white cowboy hat in an automatic gesture of politeness. The Alpha held the wide brim flush with his abdomen. The hat was felt, trimmed with a black and white braid of horsehair about the crown.

  The Alpha werewolf posed an impressive obstacle. Adam was about three inches shorter than Zach. Though in his sixties, the old warrior possessed true grit, a fibrous toughness of both body and spirit that made him a formidable opponent. Werewolves did not lose strength or stamina as they aged.

  Adam had been around the block more than once. The wily wolf was a shrewd adversary, well versed in all of the tricks. While he cultured the air of concerned benefactor, deep down the man was ruthless and dangerous. He commanded Zach’s sense of caution, if not his approval.

  Zach always took care to watch his words and guard his expressions around the pack leader. He swung the door shut. He didn’t offer to take the hat; Adam wouldn’t be separated from it. The male werewolves squared off across from one another.

  “What brings you by, Adam?” Zach folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe.

  “Pack business—the sort that requires discussion and a good stiff drink.” Adam squared his shoulders and straightened his tie. His tailored suit was midnight blue over a pressed white shirt, and his detailed cowboy boots shone from meticulous polishing.

  “Let’s move into the study,” Zach said.

  Adam inclined his head to indicate assent and Zach took the lead. Neither man spoke again until they reached his office.

  “Bourbon?” Zach went to his wet bar. Though a Scotch man himself, he kept an expensive Kentucky whiskey on hand for his American guests.

  “Please.” Adam settled in a leather armchair and set his hat on his thigh.

  Zach poured two fingers into each tumbler. He passed one to Adam, and then took a seat opposite the Alpha.

  Adam held the glass up in a mock salute. “Thank you.”

  “Sure.”

  They sat and regarded one another without speaking. Zach finally broke the silence. “What’s on your mind, Adam?”

  “Word has gotten around that I’m thinking about retiring. It’s causing a stir.”

  “That’s not surprising.”

  “I’m calling a pack meeting Monday night to make the official announcement. At that time, I’ll set out the rules for determining succession. Course, I reckon it’ll come down to you and Robert. No one else is dominant enough to be a real contender.”

  “What about Charlaine?” Zach asked.

  Adam snorted and dismissed the suggestion with a shake of his head. He downed his bourbon and set the glass aside. “Charlaine is a looker, but we both know that a woman doesn’t have what it takes to lead a pack. Now if you or Robert had a mind to claim a mate, she’d be a damn fine choice.”

  “Have you spoken to Robert?”

  “Not yet, but I will. I wanted to talk to you first.”

  “Why?” The word, already short, came out clipped.

  Adam’s eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong, Zach? Did I hit a nerve with Charlaine?”

  “I think a dominant female could be pack leader.” Zach’s gaze never wavered, making it clear he would not submit or be intimidated. It was as good as a verbal challenge if Adam chose to accept. Technically, Zach was way out of line. Only Robert, the Beta, had the right to challenge the Alpha to a fight.

  Zach had never been one to play by the rules.

  Adam stared back and the tension in the room escalated. Anger flickered in the Alpha’s eyes before he regained his self-control, then he sat back and slapped his knee. His laughter boomed. “You had me going for a minute there! I’ll swan, I can’t ever tell when you’re pullin’ my leg, Zach.”

  Zach offered a thin smile in reply. There were times when his reputation as a prankster came back to bite him in the arse, but the matter wasn’t worth pursuing. He made the deliberate decision to allow Adam to misunderstand him. “I guess I have one hell of a poker face,” he said grimly.

  “That you do, that you do.” Adam leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner, a certain look on his face suggesting a chat between good ol’ boys. “Now, like I said, it’ll come down to you and Robert. I won’t state this in public ‘cause I can’t appear to have a favorite. But just between you and me, my money is on you to win.”

  Zach worked to hide his disapproval. “Thank you,” he said in a curt tone.

  Adam sat straighter. “You’re surprised, I can tell.”

  “Robert is your second,” Zach said, reaching for misdirection to cover his intense dislike of Adam Teller before the man intuited more. His deference to the Alpha was grudging at best, and it
was only his respect for pack tradition that forced him to check his disdain. With time and a spot of luck, they’d be rid of Adam soon enough.

  “Robert is arrogant. He’s a good enough enforcer, but he lacks the head necessary to lead. He’s unsuitable. There’s no polite way of putting it.”

  Translation: a black man wasn’t smart enough or strong enough to stand in Adam Teller’s boots. Never mind that Robert Blane held two advanced degrees and was considered one of the sharpest attorneys in the state.

  A hundred impolite ways of expressing his opinion crossed Zach’s mind, but he discarded the comeback on the tip of his tongue for the sake of propriety. Zach wasn’t willing to kill Adam simply because the man was an ignorant bigot. Besides, that honor should go to Robert should the Beta choose to take matters into his own hands.

  Zach’s lips compressed and he said, “I hear what you’re saying.”

  Adam nodded and apparently assumed that he had Zach’s agreement. “This pack is damaged, maybe irrevocably. The magic that connects the members of a healthy pack died with its leaders five years ago. I presume you know the story?”

  At least they’d moved on to a neutral subject. “It was before my time, but I know what I’ve been told,” Zach said. “The former Alpha, Bryce, created an atmosphere of infighting and exploitation. The dominants were at each other’s throats. Those without real power were abused and mistreated.”

  “The Sovereign stepped in when a child was killed,” Adam said. “He had Bryce and all of the abusive dominant wolves killed and sent me here to clean up the mess. You and Robert were brought in to help stabilize the pack—and as potential successors. As I’m sure you’re well aware.”

  “I am. I understood the implications when I accepted the invitation.” Zach leaned back and propped up his long legs on the leather ottoman. His relaxed posture belied the tension within his lean frame.

  “The Sovereign selected Robert without consulting me and I’ve had to work with him these last five years, but I’ve had enough.” Adam’s mouth curled in contempt. “I’m through wasting time trying to fix this shipwreck of a pack.”

  The man’s scorn for his own pack turned Zach’s stomach, but he kept his feelings under wraps, being careful not to let anything show. He relied on misdirection again. “I’ve heard of new packs forging a fresh connection, but never a dissolved pack forging a new bond.”

  “This is the problem my successor will inherit. Becky and I are ready to retire and head home to La Grange.”

  None of this was news to Zach, but rehashing old issues clued him in to where the conversation was heading. “I take it that rekindling the pack’s magic will be the determining factor for your successor?”

  Adam flashed a cold smile, showing teeth. “You’re as sharp as a tack, Zach. I’ll make the announcement Monday night.”

  “I understand.”

  The leather arm chair creaked as the Alpha shifted his bulk to stand. “In the end, a fight for rank is almost inevitable. I hope you’re prepared to kill Robert. A pack leader can’t be perceived as weak.”

  Ice settled cold and hard in Zach’s gut. “I’ll do whatever is in the best interests of the pack.”

  Adam tilted his head and settled his hat atop his head. “I’m glad we understand one another.”

  “We’re clear,” Zach said in a flat voice. He made the vow right then and there to take any action necessary to ensure that neither of them died by the other’s hands. He’d sooner take Theresa and Isabel and return to England as endanger them with pack politics.

  Zach rose to escort his guest to the door. “Thanks for dropping in to visit, Adam. It was informative.”

  Adam tipped his hat. “Always happy to help.”

  Chapter Three

  Sunday afternoon after work, Theresa returned home with her daughter, balancing a bag of groceries on her hip while attempting to dig the keys from her purse.

  “Did you have a good time with your father?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light, although her feelings about her ex were anything but.

  “Yeah, it was okay,” Isabel said in the manner of bored five-year-old girls. “We went to the park. Tammy is going to have a baby.”

  Floored with surprise, Theresa fumbled with the keys and almost dropped them. The news that her ex-husband’s wife was pregnant caught her off-guard, and it took a few seconds before she recovered her senses enough to unlock the front door.

  “When did they tell you that Tammy’s having a baby?” she asked cautiously as her daughter ducked past her legs.

  “At the park,” Isabel said in that duh-tone. The girl dropped her backpack on the floor and sprinted down the hallway toward the kitchen. “Mama, I’m going to take my fairy friends some honey!”

  “No more than a teaspoon!” Theresa’s lips curved in an indulgent smile. Her daughter’s imaginary friends consumed an entire honey bear every month. She stared after her child and gave a philosophical shrug. If Isabel wasn’t upset about the news of the impending sibling, then she had no reason to be concerned. She had gotten over Antonio long before Isabel had even been born.

  “Do we have any white bread?” Isabel’s voice floated from the kitchen along with the sound of cabinet doors being opened and slammed shut. At the same moment, the phone rang.

  “We’re out. We only have wheat.” Theresa closed the front door and ran for the kitchen to answer the landline they depended on to communicate with the pack.

  “Fairies don’t like wheat.” Isabel closed the pantry door with a thud. Theresa watched as her daughter headed for the back yard, clutching the honey bear.

  “Hello,” Theresa said into the phone, gasping a bit for breath.

  “Theresa?” Zach’s voice purred in her ear.

  “Hi, Zach.” Theresa moved into the kitchen and set the groceries on the table. With her foot, she hooked a chair and dropped into it, releasing a huff of air. Her feet ached from hours of waitressing. She still wore her white and green uniform.

  “Rough day, love?”

  “No more grueling than a typical ten-hour Sunday. Isabel and I just got home from the market.”

  “How were tips?”

  “Tips were good, so I’m happy. Did you get any writing done?”

  He grunted. “My house is cleaner than it’s been in months.”

  Theresa smothered a snort of laughter. “Zach, you’re never going to get past this if you don’t sit down and write. You’ve said it yourself time and again. The secret to breaking writer’s block is to write.”

  A pause ensued before he responded. “Adam is calling a pack meeting Monday night.”

  Theresa sighed. Fine, he didn’t want a lecture. “I have to work Monday night.”

  “Can you trade shifts with one of the other girls?”

  “I’ll ask Anne. I took her shift last week, so maybe I can take her day shift. But, wait, that won’t work either. My mother has a doctor’s appointment over in Reno on Monday morning, and she’ll be gone until three or four. I have no one to pick up Isabel from school.”

  “What about her father?”

  Theresa winced at the bite in Zach’s tone. “You know he has to work, Zach.”

  “Work so he can renege on paying child support, which is the only parental responsibility the sod has ever assumed in his life!”

  Theresa sucked in a breath, not wanting to have this argument again. “I should go.”

  “No, Theresa, wait.” Zach’s tone turned apologetic. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m sick of listening to you defend him.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I know, Zach, but he is Isabel’s father. I can’t bash him within her hearing, no matter how badly he behaves.”

  “I understand.” There was a pause. “Why don’t I pick up Isabel from school tomorrow? She gets out at two-thirty?”

  Surprised, Theresa fell silent for a full thirty seconds. “Are you sure? Don’t you need to write?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Yes. It’s only for a couple hours until
your mum gets back? I’ll take Isabel to the ice cream parlor and then over to the Main Street Park. It’ll be fun.”

  “Zach, I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” The warmth returned to his voice, and Theresa wanted to wrap herself up in those dulcet tones, to close her eyes and forget all of her worries and fears. His steady presence in her life made things bearable whenever she felt overwhelmed. His strength always got her through the hard times and she longed for more than just friendship with him. She wanted so much more—to be his lover, to be a family, to have his children…

  “Theresa, can I come over tonight?”

  Theresa tensed up. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I’d just like to see you.” His mellow baritone conveyed a sensuous current—smoky desire, a hint of longing—so electric her entire body tingled in response.

  Her optimistic heart skipped a beat. She could not refuse attention from Zachary Hunter. With a nervous hand, she tugged at her collar and sniffed her blouse, which stank of grease and sweat. Gross…

  “I’m still wearing my uniform,” she said. “Give me a half hour to shower and change.”

  “A half hour then.”

  They said their goodbyes. Theresa called out the backdoor. “Isabel?”

  When she received no reply, she repeated her daughter’s name two more times, and then ventured out into the fenced backyard. “Isabel?”

  “Back here, Mama.”

  Theresa found her tiny daughter tucked in the far corner of the yard beneath a sugar maple. Isabel sat in the dirt amongst fuchsia snapdragons and golden daisies. An army of plastic fairy miniatures were scattered throughout the flowers. The plastic play things lay on their sides and gooey liquid was spilled everywhere. The child had honey all over her hands and sundress.

  Theresa groaned. “Oh, Isabel, I told you no more than a teaspoon.”

  “It wasn’t me, Mama. The new fairy didn’t want to share. He grabbed the honey and it spilled everywhere.” Isabel’s brown eyes filled with tears-on-command at the suggestion that she might be in trouble.

  Theresa sighed and disposed of the ruined bear in a garbage can. She bent to lift Isabel free of the mess. “The ants will eat well tonight. Let’s take you inside and get you cleaned up, shall we? Zach is coming over to visit.”