by Celia Kyle
Val’s free hand went to his balls, cupping them and toying with them while her mouth took more and more of him in. And the more she accepted, the more sounds escaped her. Moans and groans vibrated from her chest and straight into his cock, proof of her pleasure transferring to him.
Her tongue slid down the underside of his cock, her saliva coating his shaft as she took more of him into her heated mouth. She flattened her tongue, the tip a firm point, and then dragged it back up his length all the way to the tip. She ended the torturous lick with a sharp flick beneath the crown only to repeat the motion.
Val was a woman on a mission, and she wasn’t about to let anything stop her.
Not that Zeke ever wanted this ecstasy to end. No, he wanted it to draw on forever. He reached down and ran his hands through her curls as she worked, and the sight of her—mouth full of his cock and that stunning body exposed to his gaze—nearly overwhelmed him. She was just so fucking perfect. Almost as if she was built just for him.
His wolf endorsed this thought with a long, low howl that echoed through his mind. A howl that couldn’t be ignored.
But it could be overwhelmed… by Val.
His thoughts quickly returned to her, stolen by her attentions as she worshipped his cock. Soon, Val’s tongue running up and down his cock was too much to bear. She slid her hand up and over his hip, sliding along the side of his abs and exploring him as far as she could reach. She reached his pecs, fingers finding his nipple, and she scraped the nub with her nail.
A jolt of pre-cum escaped his cock and Val hummed in response, vibrations traveling through his rock-hard length, which caused another burst to break free. That might as well have been chum in the waters, the pre-cum spurring her on and forcing her to drive him even crazier.
“Fuck, Val. Shit.”
Another hum from her had him climbing even closer to his release. His fingertips burned, his claws attempting to erupt as his wolf surged, and he transferred his grip to the comforter. He fisted the fabric, wolf’s nails slicing through it with ease.
Then he allowed himself to get lost in the pleasure Valerie gave him, reveling in the rising bliss inside him. Her attentions pushed him higher and higher, closer to the precipice of that ultimate bliss. He was so close to falling over the edge, of taking that final step and coming in her sweet mouth.
“Val. Close.” He warned her, not wanting to spill in her mouth if she didn’t want to taste him. But he shouldn’t have bothered.
His confession spurred her to increase her attentions. She grew frantic—more vigorous—with her passion. She increased her suction and her pace, doubling her efforts to find his pleasure. It was too much and not enough and then… and then it simply was. Zeke let himself spill into her waiting mouth, flying over the edge of release, his orgasm overtaking him in a blinding rush that ripped a shout from his chest.
He released a tight, sharp groan, tension coiling until it was white-hot, as he exploded in a burst into Val’s mouth. She moaned as she swallowed every drop he gave her. He shot thick, fertile seed past her lips and his wolf howled—furious that they weren’t spilling into her tight pussy.
Her mouth would do for now.
His balls tightened as he came, emptying his body of every drop and leaving him drained. He twitched and jerked as Val slowed her pace, bringing him down from the ultimate pleasure she’d caused. He softened within her wet heat and she soon released his cock, giving him a proud grin as she swallowed the last drops of his release.
As much as he ached to flop back and pass out, he went to her instead. He cracked his eyes open, smirked, and lunged for her. He sat up in a smooth move and wrapped her in a hug that had her giggling. He wrenched her backward with him, pulling so that they flopped onto the pillows together in a tangle of limbs.
Zeke placed her in front of him once more, spooning her from behind so her ass cradled his soft cock, though he doubted he would remain soft for long. Not when her sexy body remained so close. He reached around her, cupping one of her breasts and simply holding her because he could. He had to touch her, had to have his hands on her body.
They said nothing as they lay there, Zeke wrapped around her and cradling her close as they relaxed into the bed. They didn’t need to say anything. Sometimes a fierce passion was all that was needed.
His wolf assured him that what he and Val shared hadn’t been enough—not nearly. Because Val remain unclaimed.
Chapter Fifteen
Sunlight filtered in softly through her room’s lone window, casting long shafts of early morning light over the guest bedroom. The bedsheets were a wreck, wrapped awkwardly around one of her legs and one of her arms, the rest of her body lying exposed to the still, crisp air.
She took a long, deep breath before cracking open one eye, expecting to see Zeke’s slumbering form lying next to her. Instead she was greeted by Fang, who’d appropriated the spot of honor the first chance she got, the little devil.
The pup lay almost comatose, her tongue lolling out of her partially open mouth, drool soaking the pillow under her. Val smiled as she scratched Fang’s partially exposed belly. Almost as if she were touch-activated, Fang rolled onto her back, giving Val more area to scratch.
Val was still upset with her mother, but she had to also be grateful, in a way. Fang had stolen her heart and was the one bright spot in her life these days. Okay, maybe one of the bright spots.
Rolling onto her back, Val reached her arms over her head and grabbed the headboard. As she stretched her naked body, a little groan of bliss escaped her lips at the distinct aches and delicious soreness that were evidence of one hell of a good night. Even though she and Zeke hadn’t actually enjoyed the full-meal deal, it still ranked up there with the best sex—or in this case, non-sex—of her life.
As a big fan of full-on fucking, Val was surprised that Zeke had been able to rock her world without it. His next-level skills, coupled with the passion evidenced in his touch, had turned her into a pile of jelly—twice! She really hadn’t needed anything more, but she still had to wonder why he’d held back. As archaic as some of his thinking about women might have been, he didn’t seem so old-fashioned that he couldn’t enjoy a carefree romp in the sack with a very willing partner.
It certainly couldn’t have been because he thought she was fragile. No one had considered her that for a long, long time. Years of active military service had taught her a lot about what it meant to be a woman in the modern world—how she’d have to fight that much harder to be taken seriously and how much of her softness she’d have to sacrifice to even be considered an equal to her male counterparts. But as a soldier, tenderness and trust were chinks in the armor, and she couldn’t afford the liability.
Yet since her little blow-up with her commanding officer and her subsequent involuntary leave, Val had found her blind, militant rage had eased some. A little softness had actually returned to her life, mostly in the form of the tiny orange ball o’ fluff snoring softly next to her.
An electronic bing sounded from the bedside table, so she carefully reached across Fang—couldn’t wake the princess!—to grab her phone. The text icon lit up along the top of her home screen, which was odd. She didn’t get a lot of texts—not even spam. That’s how far removed from the real world Val had kept her life. Her gut twisted up when she saw the name of the sender: CO
“That can’t be good,” she moaned as she tapped the screen to bring up the message.
Valerie,
I know you still have time left on your leave, but if you’ve sorted out your issues and want to cut it short, your promotion is waiting for you. Call when ready.
“Shit.”
Shit was right—shit or get off the pot time. Her time in Tremble had been beautifully distracting, allowing her to forget her normal life for a while—a world of constant danger, exhaustion, uncertainty and, more than she wanted to admit, bone-crushing loneliness.
She’d been so damn angry after that last mission. Angry at herself, at everyone in
the Army, at the whole fucking world. The day her CO had “suggested” she take some leave seemed like a lifetime ago, not just a couple of weeks, and she no longer felt like the same frustrated young woman who’d blown into Tremble like a cat on fire. The screeching static in her head had died down to a muted hiss, and the short, explosive fuse responsible for her forced leave seemed to have fizzled out.
A calmness had settled in her restless soul, and unbridled rage was no longer her default emotion. She knew without a doubt she could get there very easily, but it wasn’t her first reaction to stress anymore. As much as it irked her to admit, her CO had been right. Time off to get into a better headspace was exactly what she’d needed to feel more like herself again, not just some bad caricature of PTSD.
Your promotion is waiting for you, CO’s text said. Cold dread chilled her skin at the thought. At any other point in her career, that kind of communication from her CO would have thrilled her. Adrenaline would have flooded her veins and she wouldn’t have wasted a second in cutting her leave short. The problem was, she had no interest in the promotion being offered. As a captain, she could still fight, but the minute she became a major, she’d rarely, if ever, see combat again. Behind-the-line logistics weren’t her thing. Fighting was.
Or used to be.
Suddenly she wasn’t so sure. The Army had been her entire life since college, her entire identity. It trumped friends, hobbies, what little family she had, and any semblance of a love life. She’d never once stopped to think about who she would be outside the Army because she’d never imagined leaving. But every branch of the military had an “up-or-out” policy—if you’re not moving up in rank, they kick you out. She might get away with refusing the promotion once, but the next time it came around, she’d either have to accept or they’d discharge her.
Period.
And since her original contract was on the verge of expiring, the time to make the decision was now. The mere thought of re-upping her contract filled her with a disconcerting mix of terror and excitement. Where would she go? What would she do? Who the hell would she even be?
With a heavy sigh, she powered off her phone and set it face down on the bedside table. That would be a decision for Future Val. Past Val had somehow hooked up with her best friend’s brother, and Right Now Val was starving to death after a night of sexytimes. She wouldn’t be able to avoid making the decision—and soon—but now wasn’t the time.
Slipping out of bed, she stretched again, enjoying the brisk morning air against her heated flesh. Fang yipped to be let down because apparently the princess couldn’t jump down like every other dog in the world. No, she waited to be lowered. Thank god she didn’t speak so she couldn’t insist on a plush purple velvet pillow.
As Val pulled on a fresh set of clothes from her backpack, Fang pranced excited circles around her feet. It was her way of telling her mom she needed a bathroom break. Oh yeah, and she was hungry too.
“Come on, you lunatic,” Val said, letting the dog tear down the stairs in front of her. As soon as her deed was done, Fang wasted no time in running back inside and heading straight to the kitchen. An animal after Val’s own heart.
Trina and Warren sat at the big kitchen table, murmuring in hushed tones as she walked in. They clammed up as soon as they sensed her presence, which was about ten steps before she actually entered the room. At that point they simply stared at her, a weird vibe banging around the room like a stray pinball. Yeah, not suspicious at all.
“Morning,” she said, heading straight for the coffee pot and pouring herself a big mug.
“Morning,” they both said in unison.
Val tried not to notice how they stared at her as she fed Fang. “Any idea where Zeke went?”
“He’s not here,” Warren blurted out way too quickly.
Val scowled at him. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I asked.”
“He’s running an errand,” Trina lied deftly.
Despite the smooth delivery, Val could smell the fib all the way across the room. Of course, she didn’t know the woman well enough to call her on it directly. Something had happened, that much her instincts told her.
“What’s wrong?” When they tried to look innocent, she set down her coffee and stared them down. “Don’t even try. I can see it in your faces.”
They exchanged nervous glances before Warren finally spilled the proverbial beans. “It’s Dick McNish’s temporary construction office.”
Trina jumped in. “The kind that looks sort of like a mobile home and a shipping container had a baby?”
“Yeah, I’m familiar. What about it?”
Warren scratched the back of his neck as he slid another anxious glance at his sister. “Well, last night it was… sabotaged.”
Val frowned as she took a sip of coffee. “Sabotaged? How?”
“Someone blew it up,” Warren said, his gaze now steady on Val.
Val grimace and then shrugged. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”
She leaned against the counter and took another drink but couldn’t enjoy it because of the way they watched her. So silently, so intently. It gave her goosebumps. She was just about to ask them what the hell their problem was when Levi sauntered into the kitchen, a smug-ass smirk on his face.
Before she could even say, “Good morning,” he snatched the mug from her hands, slammed it down with a wet clink, and grabbed her wrists. Val instinctively jerked away, but his grip was too tight.
“What the hell are you doing?” she spat.
Levi smirked as he spun her around and cuffed her. “Arresting you.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Levi!”
Zeke’s voice boomed so fiercely everyone in earshot jumped as the alpha exploded into the Tremble police station, looking like he was out for blood—and he was.
“Levi, get your ass out here and explain yourself!” Zeke didn’t hold back a scrap of that thick Georgia accent, which came out stronger when he was angry. And boy, was he pissed!
A few minutes earlier, he’d been at the site of the explosion when Warren called him to let him know Levi had just arrested Val for blowing up McNish’s trailer. Zeke was nearly frothing at the mouth by the time he arrived.
But instead of Levi running out and groveling at his feet, the captain of the tiny Tremble police force—a human named Lee Meeker—poked his head out of his office to glare at Zeke. Behind the man, Mayor Calhoun and Dick McNish stood up from the chairs they’d been sitting in to give Zeke smug smiles. McNish had to be behind this somehow, and it took every ounce of Zeke’s strength to stop himself from shifting and painting the walls with the man’s blood.
“Levi’s out on official police business, Zeke,” Meeker said, a warning dripping from his words. “Now what’s this all about?”
“You know damn well what it’s about,” Zeke snapped.
Meeker pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. As the chief of police, he was one of the few humans in Tremble who knew the truth about the Soren pack. While he afforded them certain concessions, the man wasn’t a pushover.
“The suspect is being held in the back,” Meeker said, his gaze unwavering and commanding. He was the alpha here, that gaze said. “I’m in the middle of taking statements from the injured parties.”
“This is bullshit!” Zeke railed, balling his fists up. “Val had nothing to do with Dick’s bad luck. I demand you release her immediately!”
“Can’t do that, Zeke,” Meeker said firmly. “We have a very reliable witness who heard Ms. Logan threaten to blow up McNish construction trailer with C-4. She’s a solid suspect, Zeke.”
All the blood drained from Zeke’s face at the revelation. Only four other people at been at the meeting where Val joked about blowing up McNish’s construction site, and every last one of them was a member of his pack. There was a traitor in his ranks, and he knew exactly who it was.
Levi.
Zeke’s wolf demanded to be released so he could deal with the two cowards hid
ing behind Meeker before he hunted down his enforcer—correction, make that his ex-enforcer—and tore out his throat. Truth be told, he was tempted to let his beast take control, but Val’s life was at stake. He had to keep it together for her sake. Taking a handful of deep breaths, just as he’d seen Val do a few times, Zeke slowed his heart rate enough to be able to speak.
“She has an alibi, Lee. We spent the entire night together and she was still asleep when I left this morning.”
Calhoun’s jowly face turned an ugly shade of red and McNish wrinkled his nose in distaste at the admission. Meeker frowned, but before he could process the information, McNish jumped in with his two cents.
“She could have snuck out at any point while you were sleeping, Mr. Soren. That’s if you’re telling the truth.”
“Fuck off,” Zeke snarled.
“He’s not wrong,” Meeker said, giving Zeke an apologetic look. “The DA could easily poke holes through that alibi.”
“For chrissakes.” Zeke scrubbed a hand across his face. “Who was injured?”
Meeker blinked, and the other two exchanged confused glances. “Huh?” Meeker asked.
“In the explosion. Who was injured? A security guard, maybe?”
Meeker glanced back at McNish, who shook his head grudgingly. He didn’t want to give over the information just in case Zeke knew something he didn’t.
“Why?” Meeker asked.
“I just came from the scene, Lee. I don’t suppose your guys noticed the blood leading away from the blast site. Is Val injured?”
Meeker scratched his head. “Not that I noticed.”
“Then for fuck’s sake,” Zeke blurted, “what does that tell you? It tells me the bomber got hurt, and since Val isn’t bleeding out all over your cell…”
He waited for Meeker to connect the dots, but McNish already had. He stormed past the captain, stopping well short of Zeke. He may have been an asshole, but he wasn’t stupid.