by J. J. Massa
MANAGING A FAMILY
BY
J. J. MASSA
MANAGING A FAMILY
J. J. Massa
Book 4: The Montgomery Family Series
Copyright © 2006 by J.J. Massa
ISBN: 1-59836-272- 0
Cover Art © 2006 by D.L. Taylor
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form without permission, except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. Printed and bound in the United States of America.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
For information, you can find us on the web at www.VenusPress.com
Dedication:
I dedicate this book to Karen Staley. You’ve been there from my very first book and now when I write I can’t help but imagine you reading and taking the ride with me. Thank you for being in my life.
Thank you to my editor Tracey, my family, and Deb Taylor for her stirring art and enthusiasm.
Prologue
The party was in full swing when she arrived. She gripped the champagne flute in her hand, pushing back a surge of claustrophobia as she forced her way through the pressing crowd. These parties didn’t change much. She wasn’t sure why she’d even attended this one.
Suddenly, she ran into someone. Someone tall and hard. Someone very hard and muscular. She tilted her head back and looked up. Those eyes… She looked deeply into the beautiful, light green eyes that had haunted her dreams for over half of her life.
He looked down into her face and smiled at her. She couldn’t believe it, but he smiled at her.
“You don’t really want this, do you?” he rumbled in her ear, fingering the champagne glass.
“N--no,” she whispered, not sure what to say to him now that she was standing, encircled in his arms.
“I’ve had enough of that stuff for both of us. Dance with me?” his warm baritone vibrated through her, turning her insides to butter.
Her powers of speech temporarily deserted her and she nodded dreamily. His smile was warm and approving as he escorted her out onto the dance floor, pulling her against him and resting his cheek against her hair.
She thought all her dreams had just come true until he pulled a little away from her. Was he going to leave her there? Had she displeased him somehow?
“What are you afraid of, Little One?” he asked. “Surely not me?” His voice rumbled through her in a satin caress.
“I can’t believe you’re here with me,” she all but whispered.
“Where else would I be?” he stared into her eyes, unmoving.
When she didn’t respond, he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, and cupping her head in the palms of his hands, he tipped it back and lowered his mouth to hers.
Chapter 1
“You look pretty rough this morning, old son!” boomed Lakon Montgomery, slapping his cousin and manager, Yancey Livingston, on the back.
Related through their mothers, the two werewolves were as close as any brothers and had weathered many storms together. Lakon’s singing had brought him to stardom years before and Yancey had managed his career since the beginning.
Even when Yancey’s brother, August Livingston, had attacked Lakon’s twin brother’s wife and children and later Lakon’s own mate, the two men had remained close.
Yancey groaned loudly. He wished he could blame a hangover for the way he was feeling but alcohol had little effect on werewolves. It was nearly noon and he felt like he’d been run over by a moose. No, alcohol alone hadn’t caused him to feel this way, but it had played some part, no doubt. He looked at the other man.
“Lake, I think I did something bad last night. I was so exhausted from the last concert series and high on how well things went…I was going too strong, I guess, and I did have quite a few drinks,” Yancey buried his face in his hands.
“What’d you do, cuz?” Concern, even worry echoed in Lakon’s voice. Yancey felt a warm palm settle on his shoulder as his cousin offered comfort and support.
“I had sex with some woman…” he was so ashamed.
“Yancey? That’s usually not a bad thing…” Lakon began, sounding genuinely confused.
Yancey looked up at him. “I don’t know who she was. I don’t know if she was in heat. I can’t remember if she was human or Were,” he dropped his head into his hands again. “She seemed pretty young.”
“How young, Yance?” growled Lakon, wary and authoritative.
“Maybe nineteen or twenty years old,” groaned Yancey guiltily.
“That’s not too young, Yancey.” He saw Lakon looking at him quizzically. “You’re only thirty-six, cousin.”
“Lake, I think she was a virgin and I don’t even know if she was in heat…” Yancey was disgusted with himself. “I’ve got to find her.” Lakon looked at him speculatively. “Her scent should be on your sheets. Go on, man, go check. We’ll figure this out, together.”
Grateful for his cousin’s unflagging support, Yancey staggered back down the hall to his room in the suite. Her scent enveloped him as soon as he opened the door. A light and delicate scent, it brought tears to his eyes. It was familiar in more than one way. Did I find my mate without even realizing it? Damn! I know her but who is she?
Returning to Lakon, he collapsed on a sofa. “She’s a Were, Lake. I know her somehow, but I don’t know who she is. Her scent, I’ve noticed it before but…” He sighed heavily, remaining silent for a minute, and then he looked at his cousin. “Lake, I think she’s my mate.”
* * * * *
Philomela Crossland sat huddled near a dumpster two blocks from Yancey and Lakon’s hotel. She’d used the telephone in the hotel lobby to call Ashley, and now, she had nothing to do but think.
Waiting for her best friend to come and get her, she was upset and humiliated beyond her wildest dreams. She should have realized that Yancey Livingston would have no idea who she was even after he’d taken her virginity.
She’d been in love with Yancey since she was a pup and he’d never seemed to notice her. She’d heard him compliment her work, her singing, even her hobby of making stained glass. Still, he’d never seemed to notice her.
Even after she began singing backup for his cousin Lakon, he never gave her the slightest recognition. Last night she’d thought that he had finally figured out that she was his mate. He’d danced with her at the end of the concert party and had been so attentive; treating her as she’d always dreamed he would. He had mentioned that some of the champagne had found its way into his hands. Still, that sort of thing seldom affected werewolves. It would take quite a bit to make him drunk. It would take more alcohol than was even at the party, she reasoned.
When he’d escorted her up to his room just before dawn, Philly had been nervous but she’d known it was right. She had always known that he was her mate.
Yancey had dimmed the lights and put some sultry saxophone music on--probably Myles Brooks-Montgomery. Philly tried not to think about that. Yancey had then taken her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. It was a kiss straight from her girlish dreams. His lips had stroked over her own, claiming her, making her weak in the knees. He had nipped at her lower
lip, then licked it gently and she’d opened her mouth, letting him in, tasting his strong and masculine essence.
Somehow, her clothes had just floated away along with his. His hard male body had fascinated her, touching him, tracing his well-formed muscles. After all, she’d been coveting that body for years. He was so firm and powerfully built. Dark auburn hair covered his torso and arrowed down over his stomach, so soft.
His manhood had jutted hard and heavy from the tight and intriguing tangle of auburn curls, and she’d cautiously touched it and circled it with her hands. It felt like silk over steel, so good in her hands. She’d loved stroking it and squeezing it until he stopped her.
“You’re making me too excited,” he’d murmured. “You’ll make me explode.” She had been proud, never realizing that she could excite him that way. It was everything she’d always wanted for him, for them.
He’d suckled, nipped, and lathed her breasts until she began to feel waves of pleasure. That hadn’t been enough for him. He’d kissed his way down her body and covered her mound with his mouth.
Somehow he’d pressed that sensitive place, her clit, against the roof of his mouth with his tongue and growled, “Mine!” into her. She thought she’d shoot straight up off the bed.
It was amazing, like nothing she’d even imagined. This was far beyond the giggling, whispered conversations she’d had with Ashley in the dark. Touching herself had brought her pleasure, but this was even more than that.
Before she knew what was happening, he’d turned her over and covered her body with his own. She didn’t even have time to process what it meant before he began to enter her from behind. Even though her cream eased the way, there was still a lot pain because he was her first and so large. No doubt the position didn’t help, either. She was so much smaller than he was.
She’d tried to jerk away and he growled at her, clamping her shoulder between his teeth, marking her, and holding her in place while he pumped into her again and again. Finally, with a series of rapid thrusts, he emptied himself into her.
Philly had felt the tears trickle down and had tried hard to control them. The experience was nothing like the dreams and hopes she’d shared with her best friend in the dark. There was no similarity between what had just happened and the romance books she read.
Yancey had licked her shoulder and mumbled, “What’s your name again, honey?” right before he fell asleep.
She thought she’d die of mortification. He’d mated with her, marked her as his own and still didn’t know who she was. Maybe he never would know who she was. It didn’t matter; she just had to get out of there.
As soon as she was sure he was sleeping heavily, she poured some soap from the bathroom on her shoes to mask her scent and snuck out.
Chapter 2
It was all Jacob West could do to keep from rubbing his hands together in glee. His sister had gotten a panicked call from her best friend a half hour before. She had immediately taken off for Atlanta, almost an hour from their home. He wasn’t pleased that something had happened to Ashley’s good friend, no, of course not. She was a sweetie and almost a sister to him as well.
No, the object of Jacob’s pleasure was walking up the porch steps right this minute. Five foot, eleven inches of hard muscle, dark hair and intense good looks, the man had a casual grace that just irritated him and always had. Jacob had been waiting a long time for this opportunity. He intended to handle it properly. He forced his face into calm, serene lines and blessed the foolishness of his quarry for not paying closer attention to details.
“All right, Jacob?” Myles Brooks-Montgomery greeted him.
“Hi Myles, what’s going on?” Jacob glanced casually over at the man his sister was in love with--had been in love with for most of her nearly eighteen years.
“We just wrapped up our concert series in Atlanta and I thought I’d stop in. Your dad around?” he asked. Jacob waited. “What’s Ashley up to this morning?”
YES! He’d known Myles would get to the point pretty quickly.
“Oooohhh,” Jacob groaned, shaking his head and trying to appear regretful. “You just missed her. I’ll get Tav for ya though,” he offered innocently enough.
Jacob covertly watched Myles face. Yep, I can tell you’re bugged. Ashley’s supposed to be sitting on her little shelf with her hands folded, waiting patiently for you to show up. Tsk, tsk, tsk.
“Where was she off to so early?” Myles sounded indifferent, but Jacob knew better. “Oh, her friend Phil called. Needed Ash badly. Whenever Phil needs her, she’s out the door,” he told the other man with a snap of his fingers for emphasis. He gave Myles a ‘you-know-how-it-is’ look. “She was burning rubber toward Atlanta. I’m surprised you didn’t pass her.”
The last sentence was superfluous. Myles was gone. Jacob was chuckling to himself when Tav came in from the other room. How was it that werewolves were so damned quiet, Jacob wondered, and not for the first time.
“Was that Myles? I smell anger. What did you tell him?” Uh oh, Tav was a little annoyed. Jacob didn’t want to aggravate him. Tav was a little frightening when he was mad.
Guiltily, Jacob said, “I just told him that Ash was headed out to Atlanta to rescue Phil. That’s all I said, I swear.” He ducked his head, edging toward the door.
“Did you mention that Phil is Ashley’s best friend, son?” Tav asked sternly.
“Sure I did!” Jacob insisted. He knew that he was the only one who called Philomela by the nickname Phil. He’d been sure that Myles wouldn’t make the connection.
“Girlfriend?” Tav’s eyes narrowed.
“Yikes!” Jacob’s eyes were round. “I might have forgotten to mention that.” His air of bravado melted under Tav’s glare. “Well he deserves it! Anybody can see that he’s crazy about her and he just pretends he’s not. She’s crazy about him, too. He should just marry her and be done with it!”
Tav released a deep sigh. “Jacob, she’s only seventeen. It’s not that easy, son.”
“Why not? She’s out of high school. She’ll be eighteen in less than a month. She’s already halfway through with college. She knows she loves him and she doesn’t do anything for fun when he’s not around!” he protested in exasperation. Jacob was proud of his intelligent sister, of course he was, but he loved her and wanted her happiness. “He expects her to just sit and wait for him while he just goes out with anything that’ll be still long enough!”
Jacob was so mad at Myles for leaving his sister most of the time. He could understand it when Ashley was still in high school but now…he just didn’t get it.
“Son, she’s not an adult yet.” Tav’s explanation fell flat as far as Jacob was concerned.
“She’s been an adult her whole life and you know it. What difference does a few weeks make?” He knew that he wouldn’t change anyone’s mind. He was glad to say out loud what he had been thinking for so long, though. “He’s using her, he’s hurting her, and he deserves whatever he gets!”
* * * * *
“What am I going to do, Ashley?” moaned Philly to her friend in the car heading north. “God, I feel so stupid! Just--just what am I going to do?” she sniffed, flopping back in the bucket seat.
As she drove the two of them back to her home north of Atlanta, Ashley reached over and patted Philly’s hand while looking up into the rearview mirror. “We’ll figure it out, Philly, don’t worry.”
“Looks like we’re in for it, hon. Just sit tight,” Ashley warned in a tight voice.
Philly heard the concern in Ashley’s voice and then she heard the siren. Ashley pulled the car to the side of the road carefully.
She heard the police car door and then another car door slam. Philly realized that there was another man with the officer when Ashley began to grumble and got out of the car.
“No matter what, Philly, don’t you say anything,” she warned, “It’s Myles.”
Philly didn’t want Myles to smell Yancey on her, though she was pretty sure he wouldn’t. Sh
e’d masked her scent and the other werewolf’s pretty well. The problem with that was Myles seemed to have extra wolf senses. If he got a good scent of her, all bets would be off. Philly was sure she’d camouflaged her scent pretty well. She didn’t want anyone telling Yancey who she was. Biting her lip, she slid down in the seat and sat still to listen.
Distracted by an autograph from the famous saxophone player, Myles Brooks- Montgomery, the officer let Ashley off with a warning. He drove away leaving Philly sitting in the car and Myles and Ashley facing each other.
“Your brother said you’d sped off to Atlanta to be with some bloke named Phil,” Myles growled.
Philly, listening from the car, smiled when she realized what Jacob was up to. Myles sounded extremely put out.
Apparently Ashley smiled too because Philly heard Myles rumble another growl. “It’s not funny, Princess.”
“You shouldn’t be jealous of Philly, Myles,” she said sweetly. “You know I only love you.”
“Who said I was jealous? You’re driving scares the…” Leaning forward, Philly saw Ashley put a hand over his mouth, grinning. She moved her hand and replaced it with her lips. Against his will, it seemed, Myles’s arms went around Ashley and he kissed her back. He ended the kiss quickly. “Come and meet my best girlfriend, Philomela Crossland.” She pulled him by the hand over to her car. Opening the door, she said, “Myles Montgomery, I believe you already know Philomela Crossland, a.k.a. Philly, a.k.a. Phil.”
When he bent down to look at her, she smiled and nodded. “I’m a backup singer for Lakon and Mya,” she told him softly. They’d crossed paths over the years, but Philly made it a point not to mix too much with the Montgomerys when they were around, and that included Myles. She was a half-breed, a different kind of half-breed than Myles was. She’d learned the hard way to keep a low profile.
His face went brick red and he bent to look through the driver’s window at Philly. “Pleased, to be sure,” he murmured in his sexy British accent. He straightened and turned to Ashley.
