Protect Mine (Becoming the Wolf Book 3)

by T. S. Joyce

  Grey watched her with an indecipherable expression, his eyes blazing bright yellow. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

  “It’s perfect.” She blinked away stinging tears. “How did you know we would come back?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t. I just hoped.”

  He strode to an open space in the wall between the dresser and the play kitchen and put his hand behind the bulky chest of drawers. It clicked. A thick panel opened up to reveal a secret room. Inside were miniature cushioned chairs and a small television on a wooden stand with a shelf of Lana’s favorite cartoons. Against the wall was a cupboard of art supplies with a small table and chairs nestled beside it.

  “I know it seems like too much, but it’s not only for fun. I built this house to be big enough for a pack someday, but I wanted it to be safe, too. I have to be able to protect you guys. This is a safe room. Lana’s scent will saturate this room, but no one will smell her if she is in the secret room. There is a button to open the door on the inside, too, and when the door is closed, it’s impossible to tell there is a secret door there. It can be locked from the inside. I even rigged it so if someone knocks on the wall, it sounds the same as the other walls. Not hollow.”

  He took her hand and led her out Lana’s door to the room at the end of the hallway. “Morgan, I want you to move in. Montana was awful, and I can’t sleep here if I know you’re back in your house and exposed. This isn’t over. They aren’t the only pack who knows about you.”

  “Knew about me. You killed them all, remember?” she said lightly. Oh goodness, this shouldn’t be something to joke about, but she had to find humor in the rough edges of her life or she would go insane.

  “Still…” Grey arched a blond eyebrow at her. “I’m gonna ask you to move in here with Lana. And if you say no, I’m going to keep asking. Mentally prepare for—”

  “Yes.”

  “What?” he asked, eyes going round.

  “Well one of the reasons I came here was to ask if you would move in with me.”

  The smile that stretched his face made her heart thump rabidly against her sternum. “Well, I thought you were still living in your shitty little apartment. Soooo, I was going to see if you wanted to live in my shitty little house.”

  “Sell the house,” he said with a nod. “Put it on the market, it’s not safe, I don’t like you there.” He leaned on the open doorway and scanned the bedroom. His voice softened. “Sleep here instead.”

  The room had a huge king-sized bed with rustic wooden furnishings on top of glistening hardwood floors. Opposite the bed, a fireplace opened up to the bathroom and allowed the fire to be easily seen and felt from a large claw foot bathtub. She walked straight through the room to French doors that led to the huge balcony she had seen from the road. The porch was decorated with dark furniture, and a worn paperback lay on a small table. This must be where Grey spent his evenings.

  The space was so big, his deep voice seemed to echo when he spoke. “Marissa’s room and the other two guest rooms are downstairs on the other side of the house through the living room.”

  “Are they all as big as these?” she asked, overcome with the size of the beautiful home.

  Grey laughed and shook his head. “No, they are about half the size of these. They’re furnished, but I didn’t see the point in having three huge unused rooms in the house. We were almost finished building by the time Marissa mentioned joining my pack, or I would have made her room bigger. She picked it out and seems to like it enough, though. Even decorated it herself. Well, she told me what she wanted and we fixed it up together,” he corrected.

  Marissa was the eighteen-year-old adopted daughter of Dean, the Dallas pack’s alpha, and Rachel, his mate. Males fought over Marissa, so Morgan could understand why she would want to be a part of Grey’s pack. No one would fuck with her here.

  “Can I ask a favor?”

  “Woman, you can ask for literally anything.”

  “Well, it’s a selfish request.”

  Grey splayed his legs and crossed his arms over his chest. “Okay, I’m ready. Hit me with your selfishness.”

  “Can I be the first one in your pack? I mean…officially?”

  The smile faded from Grey’s face and he pulled her against him. “Moooorgan,” he drawled. “Are you really worried about that? I’ve been waiting for you. You were always supposed to be first.”

  With a little growl, he lifted her off her feet and carried her to the bed. “You really want to be in my pack?” he asked.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, so she crawled onto his lap and straddled him. Cupping his bearded cheeks, she nodded. “Listen to the truth in my voice, Wolf. I belong to you. I belong in your pack. I want to be the one cheering you on as you grow into the alpha you are supposed to be. I have this feeling…”

  “What feeling?” he whispered searching her eyes.

  “That you’re building something big. That you’re building a legend. Something people are going to talk about when we are gone.”

  Oh, that crooked smile froze her breath in her throat.

  “Don’t you see?” he asked. “The legend is you. I’m just building a fortress around you, so you can do whatever it is you’re meant to do.”

  Grey rubbed his hands up her thighs, up, up until he was touching under the hem of her oversized T-shirt. His fingers dug into her hips as he leaned forward. His lips were soft and moved so easy against hers. Morgan slid her arms around him and rolled her hips forward, against the seam of his jeans. God he was big. She could feel how big and hard his dick was, even with a thick layer of denim between them. Mmmmm.

  He pulled him tight against him, then rocked her back, then pulled her in again. His tongue dipped shallowly into her mouth and she growled.

  There was this split second where she was going to apologize for her animal’s behavior, but when she looked into Grey’s eyes, he looked hungry, and his smile was downright devilish. He didn’t mind her animal side.

  So she growled again and pulled at the fly of his jeans. Two t-shirts hit the ground in seconds, hers and his, and then his skin was warm against her breasts. God, this felt so right! He shoved his jeans down his legs, kicked out of them and rolled her onto her back. Oh God, oh God, yes. He didn’t go slow, but she didn’t want that anyway. She wanted this—the fiery, needy, passionate love-making that showed her exactly how much he still wanted her.

  He shoved her knees wider apart with his own and then settled onto her, gripping her hands above her head. His teeth grazed her neck with nipping kisses, as he rolled his hips against hers. He was so close, so hard. So big.

  “Need,” she snarled.

  Grey rammed into her so deep, she gasped and arched her back.

  He stayed there, buried, shallow thrusting so he stayed deep, and he was hitting her clit hard and fast. Too fast. She couldn’t hold on. “Grey, Grey, Grey,” she chanted as her body built too much tension between her legs, too fast.

  He didn’t slow at all. Instead a rattling growl vibrated through his body and into hers and he bucked harder. She cried out as her release swept over her like an avalanche.

  “Good girl,” he snarled, his eyes blazing gold.

  And before she could react, he pulled out of her and flipped her over on her knees. Took her hands and placed them on the headboard. Panting as her body pulsed hard, she gripped the headboard so hard, it splintered.

  “That was for the woman in you,” he whispered against her ear, squaring up behind her. “This one is for the animal in you.”

  Ohhhhh, fuuuuck. Morgan rolled her eyes closed as he grabbed her hips and slid into her from behind. The strong planes of his chest and abs were rock hard against her.

  He eased out slow, then rammed into her deep. Out slow, in hard. Slow. Hard. A little faster. Hard. Faster. Faster. Faster.

  The bed creaked in the rhythm that he set, but she couldn’t worry about breaking the damn thing right now. She gripped the headboard harder, arched her head back and cried o
ut as the pressure became blinding again. Grey roared out a sexy sound and slammed into her, froze. His swollen dick throbbed inside of her, and warmth filled her. His release pulled another one from her, and she broke apart, mindlessly moaning as he emptied himself into her. He came so much, it trickled down her legs, and God, she loved this so much. Loved him. Loved how he made her head to silent, how he knew every button to push on her body.

  The headboard had two splintered cracks by the time she released it. She slid onto the bed, boneless, and Grey laid beside her, drew her in tight against his chest.

  “You smell like me again,” he murmured.

  She gave a private smile and sighed with happiness. “You like that, don’t you? Possessive wolf.”

  “Hell yeah, I like it. Good luck keeping me off you now. The more I have you, the more I want you.”

  “It’s the same for me,” she admitted.

  “Morgan?”

  There was a hesitation in his tone that drew her eyebrows down in a frown. She rolled over in his arms to face him. Sure enough, there was worry etched into his eyes. “Yeah?”

  “I have to talk to you about something.”

  “Well, if you’re breaking up with me, it won’t work. I’ve made my decision, and now you have a barnacle for life.”

  He chuckled and his arms around her lost some of their tension. “We need to talk about how this house happened.”

  “Are you a drug dealer?” she asked. It was an honest question. He’d gone from a crappy studio city apartment with roaches to a motherfreakin’ log cabin on a whooole lot of land. “Or an assassin for hire?”

  “No. Actually I would like that last job way better than the actual explanation. I come from money.” She scrunched up his face. “I never liked coming from money. I fought it for most of my adult life.”

  “Okay. So your parents are rich? You never want to talk about your life before Wolf. I’ve always wondered about your family but every time I’ve asked, you always told me ‘you don’t even want to know.’”

  “Now, it’s time you know. I just didn’t want you looking at me differently.”

  “I mean…” She looked around the room. She was pretty sure the fireplace had a remote control. That was about as fancy as she’d ever seen. “It’s kind of strange. I was happy in our little life before.”

  “And if I could’ve gotten away with living like that forever? I would’ve. Trust me. This house will come with consequences for me.”

  “What consequences?”

  “My dad isn’t a good man. He’s a very wealthy man, but shitty as a dad, a husband, a human being, all that. He’s cut-throat, which is what made him so good at business. I’m an only child and he brought me up to take over his businesses. He called it his legacy. He raised me to be brutal. If I showed weakness at all, he beat my ass. And if my mom showed weakness? Same thing.”

  “Oh my gosh,” she whispered in horror. “Did you see the abuse?”

  Grey nodded and his eyes were utterly haunted. “No one would ever tell my dad to stop hurting us. He was too powerful. He had security and house staff that all kept quiet about what was happening in that home. Anyway, my mom was an angel. I have a brutal side, and that’s my dad in me. But more of me is like my mom. She had a tender heart and cared a lot. She was patient and gave me love and affection whenever my father wasn’t around. She tried to save my childhood. Me and my dad didn’t know until later, but from the time I was born, she was siphoning her allowance into a trust fund for me.” He shook his head. “She wasn’t even putting away money to escape him. I never understood that. She could’ve left. But she couldn’t leave with me. Dad would’ve let her go, but he would’ve searched every single rock on earth if she took his heir. She stayed for me, building an account with every spare penny. And she had a massive allowance. That’s the only way my dad knew how to love. How to gain loyalty. He threw money at people. She caught it and tucked it away. When she died, her personal accounting team let him know I had a trust fund. He couldn’t legally touch it ever, and oh, he had ever lawyer on staff looking for loopholes. He didn’t care about the money. He didn’t need it. My mom’s last revenge was providing me a way out from under him. I would never need him for anything. For me? The money hadn’t mattered. The day I hit eighteen, I left, and it was a war to get me back under control for the next fuckin’ decade. He eased off a few years ago. I needed him to. I was so tired of fighting. It drove him insane that he couldn’t control me, and that I didn’t care about his businesses. He remarried and his new wife gave him two daughters. He was pissed. He doesn’t even spend time with them.”

  “You touched your trust fund to build this,” Morgan whispered.

  He nodded. “I never wanted to touch a single penny of his money. And it definitely tipped him off. He’s been calling, leaving messages, talking about the future again. It’s stupid, but he thinks because I touched his money, I can be brought under control again.”

  “I can’t imagine money having a grip on you like that.”

  “It doesn’t. The trust fund was a means to provide for you and for Lana, and our pack. That’s all. No more, no less. I have no interest in the business world my father exists in. I watched everything growing up, and I hated it. I hate it still. I thought about it so much. I wanted to be stubborn my whole life and leave that money alone. Just let it rot in the fund as a fuck-you to my dad. But I think my mom would’ve wanted me to spend it this way. She wanted me to have a good life. A happy one.”

  “She sacrificed so much.”

  “Sooo much.”

  “What was her name?” Morgan asked.

  “Emily.”

  Morgan hugged him closer and rested her cheek against his heartbeat. “Someday, if I can have babies, and we have a daughter? Let’s name her Emily.”

  Grey’s arms went tighter around her, and he pressed a lingering kiss onto the top of her head. His voice was choked up and thick when he spoke. “I would like that very much.”

  Chapter Three

  Marissa set a plate of cake in front of Morgan and sank into the chair beside her. It was a warm Texas day, but not too hot to spend time on the sprawling porch watching Lana play in the yard.

  “You swear you don’t care if Grey initiates me first?” she asked the girl.

  Marissa looked at her with guileless hazel eyes and shook her sandy brown curls. “For the hundredth time, ya crazy lady. I don’t care. I’m just glad to be getting away from Logan and Jason. And besides, my wolf is way too submissive to hold second in the pack.”

  Morgan chuckled and speared a piece of the cake with a plastic fork. “Grey is going to have his hands full. Packs rarely have two females, and all he has are ladies.” She stifled a groan when the sweet flavors burst in her mouth. Red Velvet was the orgasm of birthday cakes.

  Marissa propped her feet on an empty chair and cradled her own plate of pastry on her stomach. “Tell me about it. I’m calling it right now. He is going on a maiming spree the first Summit we ever go to.”

  “Nope,” Morgan said around the bite. “He said he wasn’t going to subject any of us to Summit. He said, and I quote, ‘There’s no way I’m flouncing a Silver Wolf in front of hundreds of horny werewolves. Fuck everyone but us.’ End quote.”

  The door to the woodshop swung open and Grey sauntered out holding an armload of scrap wood. “He makes it look so easy,” she murmured, ogling his sexy muscles. He was wearing a thin white T-shirt today and she made a mental note to pick up seventeen more of them next grocery run. He looked all tan and hot, and she could see ever muscle in his back as he chucked the scraps into a giant burn pile.

  Marissa squinted at him and pulled her bright red sunglasses down from the crown of her head. “He has a point, you know.” She swung her gaze to meet Morgan’s. “You smell different to me. If I can smell Silver Wolf, it has to be ten times more potent to the boys. It’s probably best we don’t go. Don’t get me wrong, Grey would take them all down, but it isn’t best for werewolf numbe
rs, you savvy? Let’s all survive the Demon Wolf.”

  Grey’s eyes landed on Morgan and froze her in place. No way the red velvet deliciousness threatening to plop out of her mouth would taste better than his lips right now. With sexy-boy-wink, he disappeared back into the workshop.

  She had added his hand-carved wooden recipe boxes to her website, and the response had been immediate. Orders had flooded in so quickly, she had to start a waiting list. They were already booked for the next three months, so Grey spent a lot of time working. After his chronic struggle to fit into the human workplace, it seemed he had found his niche. He obviously loved woodworking, and with the house already paid for, they could provide for living expenses and bills with the income they were making from the sales. It suited Grey perfectly since he never had to meet a customer. He handled questions over the phone and email, and three days a week, she and Marissa drove into town and shipped the recipe boxes out. Clients would never know they dealt with a werewolf who loved howling at the moon and had a tendency to eat squirrels.

  Tearing her eyes away from the woodshop, Morgan said, “You’re officially nineteen years old now. Are you having a good birthday?”

  “I am. It’ll be even better when Rachel gets off work, though. I’m starving.”

  Morgan snorted. “You’re always starving.” Keeping a werewolf’s appetite satisfied was a full-time job. “I asked Rachel what your favorite kind of cake was. She said she was making it for the celebration tonight, but she gave me your second choice.”

  “I love red velvet. My mom used to make it when I was little. I can’t get enough of Rachel’s coconut cake either. I think I have a sweet tooth.”

  “Was your mom good at baking?”

  “Good at baking, terrible at cooking. We ate pizza and sandwiches a lot.” Marissa stared off into the woods, but her focus seemed somewhere beyond.

  “What happened to her?” Morgan asked low.