by Nikky Kaye
The Hound
The Billionaire Brothers Book 2
Nikky Kaye
Contents
COMING ATTRACTIONS
1. Annie
2. Jake
3. Annie
4. Jake
5. Annie
6. Annie
7. Jake
8. Annie
9. Annie
10. Jake
11. Jake
12. Annie
13. Annie
14. Jake
15. Annie
16. Annie
17. Jake
18. Jake
19. Annie
The Fox
Acknowledgments
About the Author
I love writing about sarcastic alpha heroes who know what they want, and smart women who are just figuring it out. Or the other way around is good, too.
Please note: This book was previously published as Saved By the Single Dad SEAL in October 2017. It went out of print in November 2017.
For sneak peeks at new books, contests, reading recommendations, and other cool stuff, join my mailing list or look for me on Facebook at http://facebook.com/officialnikkykayeauthor.
Thanks for reading!
Nikky
Chapter One
Annie
I didn’t become truly uncomfortable until he slipped something into my box. Something twisted in my chest, like a vague kind of panic and I literally bit my lip in order to stay quiet.
I’d been receiving anonymous notes at the restaurant for a month already. Sure, customers had left their phone numbers on the table before, but these were unsigned notes in envelopes, typed and printed. Nothing threatening, just random quotes from love poems.
Two days ago, one of the notes came with flowers. The large bouquet of roses was signed, “Your secret admirer.” The day before, a box of very expensive chocolates showed up.
It was all completely unoriginal—and totally unnerving.
That kind of thing might be cute when you’re sixteen, but I was closing in on thirty this year. What was sweet and thrilling as a teenager is considered stalking when you’re an adult. Instead of my heart going pitter-pat, my fingers went tap-tap as I called the police.
Their advice was to be more aware of my surroundings, keep the notes and throw away the flowers. Oh, and to bring the evidence down to the station if my admirer began delivering cookies—especially if they were chocolate chip.
Thank god there’s no city ordinance against eye rolling, because I broke the bylaw when I heard that stellar suggestion from law enforcement. I knew they weren’t trying to make fun of me, but I still felt kind of helpless.
I hated feeling helpless. I’d spent most of my life taking care of my single mother as she bounced from spineless boyfriend to loser boyfriend, to asshole boyfriend—one or two of which I’d had to junk punch as a teenager.
I knew how to kick ass and take names.
I’d had to learn.
Now, I hesitated outside the door to my building as I watched the tall, broad back of the man in my lobby, at my mailbox. Even from a distance, I could tell he was a lot bigger than me. Standing in the dark of the evening, I felt vulnerable and exposed. Should I call the police? Should I yell for help? I gritted my teeth, not liking either of those options.
I ducked back outside the halo of the security light just before he came out the door. He turned in the opposite direction and began jogging down the sidewalk.
I followed.
Adrenaline and stupidity surged through my body. The aching fatigue in my body from a long-ass shift disappeared, leaving only the strength in my legs and arms from years of waitressing.
My slight frame in my cushioned slip-on shoes barely made any noise as I crept behind him. My uniform of plain black pants and a button down black shirt kept me in the shadows—or so I hoped.
And I still followed.
The closer I got, the more I realized that my stalker had a fucking incredible ass. I’d only seen rear ends that spectacular a few times in my life. His jeans hugged his lean hips and hung on his legs like rock star groupies. The muscles in his back and shoulders shifted under his thin black t-shirt, and even in the darkness I could see the tan on his arms. His hair was cut close to his head—so close I wasn’t sure what color it was.
Okay, so my stalker was hot. I could admit that. My heart was going pitter-pat now, but that was probably from the exercise. I stubbed my toe on the pavement in my effort to be stealthy, and caught a curse before it fell out of my mouth.
He slowed his pace, his head cocking to the side. I froze, even holding my breath so he wouldn’t hear me. Of course, if he turned around, he would see me standing right there—a dozen feet behind him. In the glow of the streetlights.
Well, hell—I was a waitress, not a ninja.
Then my phone rang.
I nearly jumped out of my skin. A quiet “Motherfu—” burst out of my chest before I could stop it. Now my heart was thumping so hard I wouldn’t have been surprised if Stalker Sweet Cheeks heard that before he heard my phone.
Somehow I managed to dive behind a mailbox at the same time as scrabbling through my cross-body purse to shut up the offending device.
Yes, I multitasked the shit out of that situation.
I glanced down and declined my best friend Evie’s call, hoping she wouldn’t call back again. Flicking the switch to “vibrate,” I peeked out from behind the mailbox.
Stalker paused on the sidewalk about twenty feet away, his body stiffening. His head whipped from side to side. From my angle, I could see his jaw clench slightly and muscles flex in his forearms.
From my angle, I could also see a passer-by looking at me warily. I smiled, but he didn’t look reassured that a woman crouching behind a USPS box in the dark was totally normal.
I pulled my head back, waiting to see if he’d keep walking. Passing cars managed to hide the sounds of my feet shuffling in my graceful squat behind the mailbox. The traffic also muted the sounds of his steps as he bounded across the street in between cars.
Peeping over the mailbox, I spotted him disappearing into a dive bar on the corner. My heart stopped, then started again as I slumped against my metal hiding spot.
What the fuck was I doing? Was I completely loco? I was stalking my stalker.
My phone buzzed in my hand, Evie’s face lighting up the darkness.
“Hello.”
“Hey, Annie! Where the heck have you been? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you!”
“Working. A lot,” I lied in a low voice.
Evie paused for a moment. “Where are you? You sound weird.”
My legs protested a bit as I straightened. “I’m just, uh, getting home from work.”
I kept my head down, close to the mailbox. It smelled like what pennies tasted like.
“Now you sound like you’re in a tunnel or something,” Evie said, then she gasped. “Oh god, are you in trouble? You need to tell me if you need help but can’t say it. Say something like, uh, I had to stay late to fill the ketchup bottles.”
I’d told Evie about my mystery man, and she’d been more concerned than I was at the time. In fact, she’d been the one dragging me to the police station to file a useless report.
Of course, they only pretended to listen to her because I told her to bring cookies. Afterwards, I told her that they’d probably be more impressed that she was engaged to Dominic Stone, billionaire retail magnate.
Money talked. Cookies walked.
“I’m fine,” I said. “But I’m following him.”
“What?”
I held the phone away from my ear as she shrieked.
“What do you mean, ‘following him’? Stalker dude? Where is he now? Where are you?”
“
He just went into a bar.” My gaze flicked up to check on the door again. “I came home and found him stuffing something into my mailbox, Evie.”
“What was it?”
“Dunno. I decided to tail him instead.”
“You’re nuts. He could be dangerous, Annie. You should go home and put gloves on or something before opening your mailbox. Then take whatever it is to the police.”
“What if there’s a severed head in there or something?”
She snorted. “The mailman can’t even get a book from Amazon in those dinky boxes. I hardly think it’s going to be a head.”
I hummed. It could still be a head. Maybe an animal’s head?
The idea made me shudder, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I felt a sudden urge to take my long dark hair out of my ponytail, like having it around me would protect me somehow. It was a silly idea, but I did it anyway.
“Wait!” Evie’s voice startled me. “Did he open the box?”
My eyes closed with the memory. “No,” I said slowly. “It looked like he was putting something through the cracks, like an envelope.”
“So it’s probably just another creepy love poem.”
“Just another” was one more than I wanted. I was about to point that out to her, when I saw his back halfway down the block on the other side of the street.
Damn it! I’d missed him coming out the door.
“Shit! He’s on the move,” I hissed into the phone, popping out from behind the mailbox and trying to catch up before I lost him around a corner.
“Did you take any pictures of him?” Evie asked.
Duh. I did a mental face palm. “Gotta go, call you later.” I hung up on her and switched my phone to record video.
It was hard to keep up—but not too close—and stay focused on him, especially from across the street. It would probably look like a shaky horror movie from a film student. I’d be lucky if he was even in any of the shots, frankly.
I was so focused on keeping his large, muscular body in the frame, that I didn’t notice that we’d done a big circle and were approaching my apartment building again.
No way.
Stalker Sweet Cheeks leaned against the waist high concrete wall bordering the steps up to the front door, and pulled out his phone. His neck flexed as he bent over it.
Any fear I’d had was replaced by anger. Was he going to wait for me here? Follow me? Ambush me? Kidnap me?
This was my fucking apartment! My home, my sanctuary. My wine storage facility.
I put my phone back in my purse and swung it to my back. Darting through the dark, I rounded the building and went in the back door that people use for moving furniture in.
Sure, I could have just snuck up to my apartment and left Sweet Cheeks out there twisting in the breeze for however long he decided to stay. But then I’d be afraid every time I went out the door. Not again.
The time for being helpless was over.
My mental rundown of what I was taught in self-defense class was brief. All I could remember was to get the higher ground and go for the eyes.
When I looked through the wall of glass at the front door, I saw him at the bottom of the steps, still engrossed in his phone. My gaze swung up and down the street. The traffic was still pretty regular, but the sidewalks were empty.
I waited until a big truck was going by, then snuck out as quietly as I could, wedging my purse in the jamb so I could escape quickly behind the locked door if I needed to. The solid concrete railing was wide enough for me to jump up on, and edge my way down the dozen steps to where he stood.
“Aaaaaaaahhhhh!”
I jumped on his back, clasping my hands around his throat.
My legs wrapped around his waist, and while my whole body was taut with adrenaline, his was just taut. It was like clinging to the concrete wall itself—only warmer. And smelling… amazing?
“What the fu—?” he growled, trying to whip his head around. His skull connected with my nose, bringing tears to my eyes.
Goddamn, that hurt! I tightened my fists into his windpipe, his growl turning into a grunt.
Then he pivoted away from the wall and dropped into a squat, his hands wrapping around my wrists so hard I swear I felt the bones scrunch together.
“Owwww!”
My grip loosened as I yowled in his ear. With sharp exhale, he held on to my forearms and flipped me over his head to the sidewalk.
At that point, I was willing to concede that maybe jumping him was a bad idea.
The wind was knocked out of me, my wrists burned, and my back stung like a sonofabitch. I was lucky my head hadn’t hit the ground, but the sharp pain in my neck told me that trying to avoid a concussion was going to end up in another injury. But at least my arms weren’t broken.
I catalogued all these things in about three seconds, while I lay there breathless. Blinking.
Then he dropped on top of me, one of his knees bending to pin down my thighs, and his hot, hard forearm across my throat. His breath was hot on my face, and smelled a little like bourbon.
“Why are you follow—Annie?”
He jerked back up, his hands going to his head. I sucked in a breath, my ribs aching. For the first time, I saw his face clearly in the security light at the front door.
“Jake?”
My stalker was my best friend’s fiancé’s brother?
Chapter Two
Jake
“Holy shit!”
Evie’s friend Annie lay before me on the sidewalk, gasping for breath.
I’d put her there.
But what the fuck was she doing, jumping on my back like a deranged monkey?
She stared up at me, her big brown eyes wide and her face pale. Her long dark hair puddled around her head like blood.
Holy shit.
“Are you okay?” I knelt beside her again, my gaze skimming her body to check her over.
“Fine?”
She didn’t sound fine. She was making the same kind of choked, rasping noises that my baby daughter Stella did when she had a bad cold.
I had to admit that she looked fine, though. Really fine. Annie was a tight little package of hotness, like a shot of good espresso. I frowned.
“Why are you dressed like a ninja?”
“It’s… my… work… uniform… dumbass.” With each pause, she was able to take a deeper breath, until the color began to return to her face.
“You work as a ninja? I hate to say it, but you had some shitty training.”
“You’re hilarious.” She rolled her eyes and winced as she pushed herself up on her elbows.
“Hang on.” She yelped as I wrapped my hands around her arms to help her up. Right. I’d grabbed her there—hard. Self-loathing curdled in my belly. I never thought I’d hurt a woman like that.
Sure, there were times that I wanted to shake some sense into my ex—and baby mama—but I’d never laid a forceful hand on a chick before.
Unless she wanted me to.
I reached behind Annie, curling my arms around her waist and upper back, and pulled her toward me. I kept my arms around her once she was in a seated position—just in case.
She smelled faintly of food, the scent of coffee in her hair. But as she slumped against me, I could smell the faded remains of the perfume she must have put on that morning. It was spicy and exotic—a little like her. My jeans tightened as my body reacted to the woman in my arms.
“What the hell were you thinking, jumping on me like that?” I’d gone from turned on to pissed off. “I could have seriously hurt you!”
Her forehead creased as she scowled at me. “What the were you doing, messing with my mailbox?” Her sharp nod toward the door of the apartment building was accompanied by a little moan at the movement.
“You saw me? Why didn’t you say something?” I released her, leaning back on my knees to see if she’d remain upright without assistance.
She did. In fact, her spine looked like it had rebar running through it.
I couldn’t help it. My mind went to a dirty, dirty place at her words. The smirk on my lips widened.
“What’s so funny, asshole? You’re the one tampering with the mail, which—I might add—is a federal offense!” Her words came faster than her movements as she rose to her feet. “How would you like to come home from a hard day at work to find a strange man shoving something in your slit?”
Laughter burst from me. It was impossible to stop it. She stood in front of me, her hands on her hips and an indignant expression on her face. On my knees, my line of sight was squarely on the general area of her “slit.” And I chuckled again.
“Honey, I sure hope you don’t have strange men fingering your slit.” I hopped to my feet, my knees only protesting a little.
She spluttered, her cheeks reddening, as she got the joke. “That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s what I heard.”
“Pervert.”
I raised an eyebrow at her, remembering her ogling me the one time we’d met before. I’d been running with Stella in the stroller, and stopped by to drop something off for Evie. The admiration in Annie’s eyes had followed me all the way home—and into a long, hot, handsy shower.
Even though that had been eight months ago, my cock still hardened at the memory, threatening to embarrass me. And it took a lot to embarrass me.
I bent over her, so close I could smell her perfume again. “I’ve been called worse.”
When she tilted her head back to look me straight in the eye, hers were dark and glittering. “I bet,” she said faintly.
I had to give it to her, though. She didn’t drop her gaze. Okay, she dropped it a little, but only as far as my chest. I felt it like a physical touch, a shiver of arousal shooting up my spine.
