The Wolf (Billionaire Vikings Book 2)

by S. M. Maddox

  “Again, anyway. Quit interrupting me. I fell for it, caught hook, line and sinker. Later on into our conversation, we’re talking about our big stories we’ve had in the past. He asks if I’m working on any big stories currently. Stupidly, I tell him I am. Until that point, Jack and I had kept quiet, but I’m thinking maybe Jason has more connections and he can help us. We go back to my apartment that night, and I show him some, not all, of my notes so far. I wanted to see if anything jumped off the page at him, rang any bells. I didn’t tell him Jack’s name or anything, only that I had a friend who was helping me out.

  “Jason didn’t seem to recognize anything or anyone in my notes, so I dropped it. I didn’t think too much about it until a few weeks later when I was talking to Jack. I mentioned that I’d shown my notes to Jason, and Jack went off the deep end. We got into this screaming match, which was out of character for him, about how I should’ve vetted Jason and told Jack about him sooner so that he could look into him.

  “By now, Jack and I were both pretty sure it was the mafia, and we’d found a few similar deaths across the country that we were desperately trying to tie to Collins’ murder.

  “I figured he was just jealous. I’d cancelled plans with Jack a few times, and now that he knew Jason was the reason, I assumed he was lashing out. Jason and I had been spending a lot of time together, getting more serious. We were such a big deal, in fact, that Jason had personally gone to the head of WFYR and asked his permission to date me. He told him he knew I was the real deal, and I was the reason he’d taken the job in the first place.”

  “A List Douche, that’s what his movie will be called.”

  “By the 4th of July, I was pretty sure he was going to propose. He’d dropped a few hints, and we’d been spending every waking moment together. The problem was, I wasn’t sure if I was going to accept. He was great, but he seemed too perfect. There were times when he said exactly the right thing, or made exactly the right move, and I’d find myself wondering if I was stuck in the Matrix.

  He’d get me perfect roses. He’d remember every date, every single word I’d said. Every hair was always neatly in place, he never had bad breath. He was like a living Ken doll.”

  “Sounds fucking disgusting.”

  “On the 4th, Jason and I were going to an office party out on the lake, fireworks, grilling out, the whole shebang. Jack had called and texted me several times that day. I ignored him because we’d gotten into another fight. I was hearing less and less from him, and my leads were rapidly drying up. Jason urged me to leave my phone at home, so ‘we could have a peaceful, romantic night.’ Stupidly, I did just that.

  “I hadn’t really wanted to go to the party. Like I said, I was pretty sure he was going to propose and I knew I didn’t want to marry him. I should’ve broken up with him before then, but the webs he’d spun made it hard to untangle myself, to separate fact from fiction.

  “Later that night, the sun had set, the fireworks were going off. I was frankly kind of bored because he was acting perfect, and by now I was pretty sick of it. In the back of my mind I was thinking about Jack. Wondering what he’d been calling about, where things had all gone wrong, and maybe if we could get back together now that I’d accomplished most of my goals. He would’ve supported me no matter what, but I needed to do everything for myself. If Jack had proposed that night, I would’ve said ‘yes’ in a heartbeat.

  “So, everyone was out on the grass beside the lake, looking up at the stars as the fireworks are popped over us. It should’ve been the perfect night, but it wasn’t, by far. Beside me, Jason’s blabbing away about how beautiful the stars are and how they shine in my eyes and blah blah blah, and I just snapped.

  “I looked over at him, and his expression changed from ‘everything is perfect,’ to ‘oh shit,’ in .01 milliseconds. He quit talking, which was rare, and I said ‘Jason, I think you’re a great guy, but I don’t feel like we’re compatible for the long term.’ He stayed quiet, so quiet that I noticed a low hum of excited chatter starting up all around us.”

  “Hot damn, Malone.”

  “Yeah, it was brutal and straight to the point. But it was the right thing to do. Like I said, something was just off. People had started talking loudly, and I’m thinking I was too loud breaking up with him. That people heard us and I needed to leave before he started making a scene. I couldn’t even call an Uber to leave, because I didn’t have my phone on me. I asked one of the PAs, Missy, if she wouldn’t mind leaving to drive me back to my house.”

  I started crying again, feeling the second panic attack of the day set in. Roland once again wrapped his arms around me and kissed the side of my head. I held onto him for dear life, snuggling my sobbing self into the crook of his neck until I felt my heart slow down and my breath return to normal. He didn’t say a word the whole time. He just held me and let me ugly-girl cry.

  When I’d recovered, I stood up to get a cold, wet washcloth for my face. I was going to be hella puffy and splotchy tomorrow if I didn’t try to get a grip on myself.

  “Jessie… What happened when you left?”

  I felt the tears well up in my eyes again and I leaned back on the couch and slapped the washcloth across my face to conceal my blobfest.

  “On the way back to my house, Missy asked if I’d heard the news. Of course, I hadn’t because I didn’t have my phone. I asked her what’d happened. That’s when my life as I knew it stopped. She says, nonchalantly because she didn’t know our relationship, that one of the local policemen was found beaten and tortured the same way and in the same location as Collins.

  “I gripped the dashboard, repeatedly asking the question I already knew the answer to. I asked what his name was, over and over because my ears were ringing and I couldn’t hear anything. My head pounded, my face was flushed, the car was spinning, and if I hadn’t looked at her calm face I would’ve thought the car was careening out of control off the planet.

  “‘What’s his name?!’ I yelled at her over and over. She pulled the car over to the shoulder of the road. ‘His name was Jack McCallister.’”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jessie

  After screaming Jack’s name, I was crying so hard I was hiccupping and coughing at the same time, the full-on definition of ugly-girl crying. Roland silently wrapped me in his arms, for the umpteenth time since I’d began my story, and let me cry my eyes out until I’d exhausted myself to sleep.

  The next morning I woke up in my own bed, surrounded by hot bodies. I looked to either side, seeing Otis spooning me on one side, while Roland spooned the other. I briefly panicked that I was late for work before I realized that

  A. it’s Saturday and

  B. my boss is in my bed.

  I chuckled to myself, rubbing my temples in the process. My head was pounding and my eyes were nearly swollen shut. I sat up and looked across the room. Holy shitsticks, Batman. The face staring back at me from my dresser mirror was an image worthy of Munch’s The Scream.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “Shut the hell up and go back to sleep. I look like a blobfish.”

  Roland sat up beside me, removing his shirt in the process. “Fun fact, the blobfish is only blobby because it’s out of its natural environment. Something about atmospheric pressure or some shit.”

  “Look at you, being all smart. Maybe you could go against me in Trivial Pursuit after all.”

  “What can I say? You bring out the nerd in me. You’re a blobfish.”

  “Gee, thanks. You really know how to make a woman wet.”

  He tickled my side, his face lighting up at my squealing screech. He wrapped his big arms around me and pulled me back down to the bed, blob face and all.

  “What I mean is, you’re out of your atmosphere. Neither one of us are used to laying our shit out in the open, but here we are, blobbing around.”

  “Blobbing, is that our new codeword for sex?”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely. I’ll blob you any time, any place. You name it.�
� He continued tickling me as his body pressed my into the sheets so I couldn’t escape.

  “Stop it! Stop! I can’t breathe!” I squeaked between fits of laughter. Roland stopped and propped himself up on his elbows above me, and breathed his morning breath into my face slowly and purposefully.

  “Oh fuck! Gross! What’s wrong with you?” I punched his chest.

  Roland kissed my forehead, my cheekbones, my nose and then my lips. “That so-called perfect assface didn’t deserve you, even a glance from you. I’m real, Malone. I’m not perfect, but I’m here, I’m real and I’m fucking yours for the taking.”

  I started crying again. Fuck, Jessie. Do. Not. Fall. In. Love.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck as he leaned in and kissed me again, making my body tingle from the top of my head all the way to my toes. Roland slowly started inching my shirt off, but my body clung to his, making it difficult.

  “I don’t want to kill you. And I don’t want you to hate me.”

  “You’re not going to kill me, and neither is anybody else. You don’t know the real me, I can assure you. But you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to let in. Malone, I-“

  “Don’t say it. Just. Don’t. Say. It,” I pressed my finger to his lips. “You haven’t heard the rest of the story yet. I don’t want to lie to you anymore.”

  Roland’s brow furrowed, debating about what my big secret was. Then his face returned to the regularly scheduled god-like stone façade, and he quickly moved down to unbutton my pants. He pulled them off in one fell swoop before I could realize what was happening and spread my legs apart for all the world to see.

  “Roland! I’m serious!”

  “So am I. Seriously horny right now. This is how it’s gonna be from now on, Malone. We’re doing some soul bearing shit this weekend, like it or not. All the ugly bits, the lies, the truths, the secrets, the bad breath, the blobbing, the whole package deal. If you don’t really want me, tell me to stop and I will.” Aaahhhh hell.

  I spread my legs wider and lost sight of his beautiful face.

  He started at my ankles, slowly kissing his way back and forth up each one of my legs until he reached the fleshy parts of my inner thighs. By then, I was soaked with anticipation and beyond ready for him to reach the promised land.

  “Ro, ah, I’m, ahhh, I won’t last looooonnnngg,” I begged as he licked and caressed my folds. After what felt like hours of kissing me, he curled first one, then two, then three fingers into me and stroked my most sensitive spot inside. In rapid succession, his lips were on my clit, sucking on it with such intense pressure I thought I would explode into a thousand pieces. His fingers rubbed furiously inside me in a ‘come hither’ motion, stroking my spot at the same time as my clit was getting worked from the outside.

  Stars exploded behind my eyelids as my body started convulsing. I was crying tears of pleasure when I came, and I nearly choked him as my thighs spasmed around his neck.

  “Rooooland,” I purred, unable to contain my ecstasy in the moment.

  “Alright, want to continue with the rest of the story now?”

  “Not at this particular moment, no. How about breakfast first?”

  “I just had breakfast, silly. Unless you want seconds.”

  Twenty minutes later, Roland was in my kitchen, standing over the stove and dumping ingredients into a pan. Wearing nothing but his boxers.

  “Babe, you haven’t lived until you’ve had one of my famous omelets,” he said, as he dumped hot sauce on them.

  “Where did you even find hot sauce? I’m 100% sure that was not in my kitchen.”

  “My glove box. I keep it in there at all times. You never know when you’ll be caught in an emergency situation.”

  “Mmmm,” I purred as I ran my hands all over him, searching his bare back, his shoulders, his arms and his beyond stellar ass. I tried to squeeze it but it had no give to it, so my hands travelled around to the front. I teased him as he stirred. While I rubbed his pecks and twisted his nipples, he cleared his throat and tried to focus as I played with him. I felt the muscles beneath my fingertips ripple and quake as they responded to me. My fingers traced the lines of tattoos around his bulging arms.

  “What do these signs mean?”

  “They’re ancient Norse ruins. They mean ‘warrior, power, strength, and havoc.’”

  “All the things you are.” My hand found his member, gave it a little stroke and a squeeze before moving to his balls. I cupped them, gently massaging them as my other hand returned to his shaft, squeezing in rhythm. Roland froze in place.

  “Fuck, fuck! Jessie, the eggs are burnt now!”

  I spun him around and went down on my knees. I wanted a distraction, a release from the pain I’d relived last night. I didn’t want to finish the conversation just yet. I wanted more of Roland, to savor him and all the things he’d made me feel in case today was the last day I ever saw him. My overthinking brain made me start crying as my mouth closed around his head, my hands still massaging and working him into a frenzy.

  Roland curled his hands in my hair, gently moving my mouth slowly as I licked and sucked him. He was already nearly there, so it didn’t take but a few more seconds until I felt his hot liquid shot down my throat. His body tensed, seizing in my hands as I swallowed. My eyes travelled up to his handsome, perfect face, a serene look across his brow.

  Roland, the lawyer in him shining brightly, rebounded quickly with a defense.

  “Malone, I know what you’re doing. You’re doing it brilliantly, might I add, but that won’t take away from the fact. I’ll fuck you fifty ways til sundown, on this counter, on this floor, on the couch, in the tub, on the sink, even on this damn stovetop once it cools down, but that won’t distract from the fact that we’re going to have a heart to heart in between. You’re going to tell me your ugly scars, and I’m going to tell you mine.”

  He picked me up, wrapping my legs around his waist, and carried me to the couch. His aggression turned me on, yet again, for the billionth time since I’d first seen him.

  “Remember in the club when I said you looked like my wet dreams come to life? Yeah, I seriously meant that. Seriously, seriously. Throw a fucking blanket, no, an ugly ass comforter over yourself. I can’t concentrate on anything when you’re around, you make my brain all fuzzy and all I can think about is how great you feel inside me. Especially, ESPECIALLY, when you’re parading around here, all sexy god-like and nearly naked in MY OWN HOUSE.” I fake punched his arm as he threw his head back in laughter. Roland moved away from in between my legs and went to get my comforter, as requested.

  He returned fully wrapped, hopping back to the couch like a jumping burrito. I burst out laughing, noticing all I could see were the tips of his toes sticking out, and I’ll be damned, the boy even had cute toes. Guys never had cute toes. Being distracted with the rest of his body parts, I felt a little guilty that I hadn’t even noticed his feet. If he had had hobbit feet this whole time, I would’ve been none the wiser.

  Roland wiggled his toes, making me squeal in giggly delight. Even completely covered, he was too distracting. Now I didn’t know what was worse, seeing all his bulging muscles out in the open, or knowing what was hidden and wanting to rip the comforter off.

  “Continue with your story, please.”

  I turned to my side, so that I could only see my comforter in my peripherals. Today I decided to try and keep it more fact based, less emotion based. Maybe I wouldn’t have another cryfest if I could keep my heart out of it.

  “I didn’t go to the wake or the funeral. I couldn’t. I’d killed Jack. Seeing his parents there, their sad faces at knowing he’d always been in love with me and knowing how stupid I was, I just wouldn’t be able to bear it. I called out from work, and locked myself in my apartment for two weeks until I could breathe again.

  “In all that time, Jason never called me. Not once, not even a text. He never came by to check on me or anything. It was like he’d fallen off the face of the earth, asshole that he
was. When I went back to work, he wasn’t there. There was a new producer, who seemed much more professional than Jason ever had. I explained to him my situation, how close I’d been with Jack, and politely asked that I not cover any stories about him. I knew I’d break down on live television if that ever happened, and I didn’t want people pitying me or thinking I was too emotional.

  “I went to HR to see if Jason had left a forwarding address or any sort of communication, but he hadn’t. Completely vanished. Weird, right? Whatever, I moved on.

  “I stayed away from the Collins case for another month or so. There was just no effort left in me. I should’ve been fired up from Jack, but I was completely devastated and emotionally drained.

  “Then one night, I had a dream. I don’t remember much of the details, just the overall gist of it. Jack was there, and he said that he was doing great but I was still in a lot of danger. When I woke up, I was on a mission to find out what had happened.

  “Jack, ever the policeman, was meticulous to document everything. Paper trails, phone records, he kept everything somewhere. So where would he keep what we’d discovered, or what he’d discovered on his own time? Safe deposit box? Safe in his home? Would he have involved his parents? No, probably not. Anyone on the force he trusted with his life? Also no, not that I was aware of.

  “I listened to his voice messages over and over, trying to pick up any clues. He’d ended each one of them with the same phrase. ‘Watch it like a hawk, Jessie.’

  “It finally dawned on me, and I realized what he’d been saying. I finally remembered something from a long time back, when we were in college. College e-mails.

  “Not just e-mails from college, but the college e-mail system itself. Hawkmail. We’d gone to U of Hartford. Their mascot is a hawk, and all the students had Hawkmail. We always teased each other that it was perfect for us, he the policeman and I the journalist, because we kept records of everything. ‘Watch it like a hawk, Jessie.’ If anyone was listening, they wouldn’t know what that meant. No one would know that was his tagline for me, except me.