Wolf Shield Investigations: Boxset

by Dee Bridgnorth

  She pretended to be surprised. “Really? I guess that’s even more reason to get my butt out there. I don’t want there to be an entire country between us.”

  He kissed her forehead, her nose. Sweet, lingering kisses. “Only if you’re not doing it just for me.”

  “Are you kidding? You’re just gravy.” She was giggling when his lips found hers—and once they did, there was no giggling to be done. Just like before, the instant that brief connection formed, nothing else mattered.

  This time, they were all alone. When she straddled his lap, there wouldn’t be anyone to interrupt. The rest of the team had already flown home on the firm’s private jet, which would return for Braxton the next day. Melody sure wouldn’t be coming around. It was just the two of them.

  Which was what gave her the courage to pull her tank over her head and toss it aside, wrapping her arms around the wide shoulders of the man she loved. “Where were we last time?” she whispered before gasping at the touch of his hands on her bare skin.

  “I think you were doing this.” He pulled her hips in, grinding her against his growing hardness. She sighed, rocking her hips again, catching his bottom lip in her teeth and nipping playfully.

  Heat built, grew, threatened to consume her even now. His nails raked down her back, leaving pain and pleasure in their wake.

  She let her head fall back, giving him room to lower his head to her bare breasts. He licked, tasted, his broken breaths signaling how close he was coming to the point of no return while her hips jerked faster and faster. There was no use holding back. She didn’t want to either. She wanted to let go fully, to be completely open with him, to let him see all of her, hear her pleasure, feel her desire.

  “Oh, God!” she cried out, shuddering in climax. His arms held her fast, keeping her up and against him while she recovered from that first burst of pleasure.

  He lifted her without saying a word, lowering her to the sofa before working her jeans down over her ankles. “You too,” she whispered, unbuttoning his jeans. She’d already seen what he had to offer—even in her shock and horror, she’d registered his exquisite form in the back of her mind.

  She wanted more. She wanted to touch, taste, feel. Her hands were hungry for him as he lowered himself over her, his skin already glistening with perspiration. She tasted it, her tongue sliding over his neck and shoulder, and he shuddered.

  “We can’t go back from this,” he grunted between kisses against her overheated skin. She closed her eyes, her head rolling from side to side as his tongue circled her nipple before his lips closed over it.

  “I don’t want to,” she moaned, raising her body up to meet his. Even her skin was hungry for his, desperate for contact. She hooked her legs around him, drawing him closer until his thick, hot length pressed against her entrance. “Please, Braxton.”

  “You want this? Tell me you want this.” He was barely holding onto control—his voice shook with strain just like his body did, the strain of holding himself back when he wanted to let go.

  “I want this.” She looked him in the eye, stroking his cheek before pulling him down for a kiss. He drove himself forward, making her body convulse around him until they were locked together.

  God, he was big. Thick. He filled her, making her grit her teeth against a cry of mixed pleasure and pain. The pain faded as quickly as it had come, leaving deeper pleasure behind.

  “I love you,” she gasped as he began to move, staring into his eyes as he completed their connection again and again. She accepted him, cradling him with her body, moving with him, grunting softly each time he drove himself home.

  Until he took over completely. She handed control over, glad to let go, glad to let him take her the rest of the way, to let the wolf drive her higher, harder, to let him undo her with each thrust.

  “Yes! Yes!” she whispered, before crying out when his nails scratched at her skin, when his teeth nipped her shoulder—then bit down harder—when his pants for air turned to animal grunts, when his thrusts slammed their bodies together.

  Who was she with now? Braxton? The wolf? Both of them, handing control back and forth?

  There was no need to hold back, no need to keep herself quiet. She cried out her pleasure, encouraging and begging for more. Harder. Deeper. He gave her everything and then some until she floated somewhere above them both in a haze of complete, soul-shattering bliss.

  Somewhere in there, the wolf howled. And she smiled, satisfied, knowing she had satisfied him. Both of them.

  “Oh my God.” He half-collapsed on her, panting for air. “If I knew what that would be like, I would’ve thrown you over my shoulder and taken you to bed days ago like I wanted to.”

  Even now, sated and sweaty and glowing inside, she couldn’t help but tingle at the idea. “Who said you can’t do that?” she asked, then giggled when he raised his head to look her in the eye.

  “I love you,” he grinned, disheveled and flushed and gorgeous. “But even I need a little recovery time.”

  “And I love you.” She kissed him gently. “Which is why I’ll give you twenty minutes before you throw me over your shoulder and march me upstairs.”

  PART III

  Chapter One

  “That felt good.” Sledge settled back against the seat in the rear of the SUV as Logan drove away from the site of the hideout in the woods where they’d just conducted business. As always, there was a sense of relief in the car, one of pride and accomplishment when looking back over a successful mission.

  “What? Disbanding a group of blackmailers?” Zane asked with a grin.

  “What about scaring a group of armed men so bad one of them wet their pants?” Jace laughed. “I swear that will never get old.”

  It wasn’t so much the fact that the man in question had pissed himself—though that was enjoyable. It was the fact that the wolf had made him do it, that it was Sledge’s wolf who’d been allowed to roam free through the woods, seeing through the darkness, sensing the presence of his enemies.

  In that case, his enemies had been the men who’d blackmailed an ambassador and threatened to kidnap his pregnant wife. Only the lowest of the low would do something like that, which meant taking their lives would hardly keep him awake that night—or any night.

  As always, the men in question were more bark than bite. That always seemed to be the way of it: they thought they could get far with their weapons and their threats, with incriminating photos and promises of retribution if their demands weren’t met.

  All it took was the sight and sound of a very large, very angry wolf to bring home the point that they were mere men, that there was something in the world stronger than them, faster, more skilled.

  And much, much scarier. Because who could tell what an animal is capable of? Who could tell what they would suddenly do? Or when they would decide enough was enough, that they were tired of playing and had decided to go for blood?

  That was what felt good: being the wolf, existing as the wolf, moving through the night as the animal he was inside. It was so much easier not having to think, giving over to instinct, feeling his way through the situation. How had he ever existed any other way?

  The fact was his old life was so far away he barely saw it in his memory. He tried, and he tried, reaching back into the days before he’d ever served, before the weeks spent in that bright, sterile lab treated as little more than an animal, something that wasn’t human anymore.

  When he lived and thought and moved in the world as a man, he resented them for it. He hated them.

  When he was the wolf, it felt like what they’d done was what needed to be done, that he had never really been anything as simple as a human man, that he’d only been pretending all along.

  He couldn’t say this to his teammates, obviously, so he settled for chuckling knowingly. “It felt good to scare the shit out of those guys,” he laughed. And it had. So good.

  “Suffice it to say they won’t be bothering the ambassador anymore,” Logan concluded wit
h a satisfied grin in his voice. “And we’ll collect our pay, which also feels very good.”

  “This is a business, after all,” Doc piped up from his connection through the car’s Bluetooth. “And there are bills to be paid.”

  “And payroll to be processed,” Zane snickered. “Let’s not forget about that.”

  “As if we ever could,” Doc replied. There wasn’t much humor in his voice, but then there never was. Whatever had happened to him back there, before his trip to the lab, had turned him into someone who rarely expressed anything other than impatience. Rarely did he smile, and it was even rarer for him to laugh, like he’d lost the ability to do so when he lost part of his body.

  That was too simple. They’d all lost something, and mental wounds were deeper and more pervasive than the physical. That was one thing those scientists and whoever they’d worked for hadn’t figured out. Their test subjects could heal from nearly any wound almost instantly—but only if the wound was physical. Other wounds took much longer to heal from—if the subject ever healed at all.

  “At any rate,” Doc continued in a clipped tone, “the fire you left behind will most likely be passed off as accidental. I highly doubt anyone will care much over the fates of those left inside. None of them had families, and I highly doubt they had a wide circle of friends.”

  “I always love it when they’re surprised that we know their names,” Braxton sneered. “They always think they’re above being discovered.”

  “They don’t expect us,” Sledge murmured, lost in thought.

  “Exactly,” Logan agreed. Yes, it had been a work of genius on his part, opening an agency that specialized not only in security but in breaking down the psyche of the offender in question. These offenders—blackmailers, kidnappers, terrorists—never expected to have their entire life history discovered and examined then used against them.

  “And you secured the photos?” That was Val, back at headquarters with Doc.

  “What do you think?” Jace snickered. “This isn’t our first day on the job.”

  “Boy, I sure do love it when you’re all feeling so good about yourselves after a successful mission,” she sighed, sarcasm heavy in her voice. “I mean, it’s already so much fun to work with a bunch of guys like you.”

  It was all in fun, all delivered with a great deal of affection. At least, he hoped. They’d be lost without Val, and she knew it.

  “We should be back in thirty minutes or so,” Logan announced. He ended the call, and the five of them rode in companionable, satisfied silence for a while. There was nothing like the feeling of completing a mission, especially when the targets in question were so thoroughly terrified by the time their worthless lives had come to an end.

  Even now, a twinge of guilt settled over Sledge’s heart—a brief twinge, nothing that wouldn’t pass in a matter of moments.

  He didn’t enjoy killing—not even when he was the wolf. That was something he’d never shared with any of them, assuming there was something wrong with him. Shouldn’t he enjoy this? Shouldn’t he take pleasure in killing when he was his wolf? The wolf took what he wanted, did what he had to do to survive, and if given the chance, those men would have gladly killed every member of his team without blinking an eye.

  Just because a murder was justified didn’t make it any easier to live with after the fact. He had never learned to shrug off what sometimes had to be done, no matter how satisfying it was in the moment and immediately afterward.

  This was the duality of their nature. Yes, he was satisfied with the chance to move through the world as the wolf. He was even proud of himself, proud that his very presence had inspired men to shriek and cower at the sight of him.

  But he always had to return to the man he was, and for men, life was not that simple. At least, it wasn’t for him.

  “Any chance of us making up that vacation time?” Braxton asked out of nowhere. It had been weeks since the vacation time he and Zane had been enjoying separately was called short. Sledge doubted he regretted it. That mission led him to find his mate, Serenity.

  “What? You wanna spend a little time with your mate without us breathing down your neck?” Zane teased.

  “Actually, yes. That’s exactly what I want to do, especially now that she’s moved into her new place.” It hadn’t taken long at all for her to sell her home in the Hollywood Hills after she decided she wanted nothing to do with the life she’d built there.

  Sledge could understand why. The few days he’d spent with the rest of the team in that mansion had been eye-opening, to put it mildly. It was so easy to see why normal, everyday people looked at celebrities from a distance and envied them. Even the most jaded person couldn’t be faulted for fooling themselves into believing everything was beautiful out there, that everything was exactly the way it appeared on the surface.

  The reality was something far different, and he could imagine how someone as levelheaded as Serenity Starr would eventually get tired of it, especially after everything the paparazzi and her so-called fans had put her through.

  And her manager, and her producer, and her bodyguard…

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Logan promised. “But you know if something else comes in there’s nothing I can do about it. I need you when I need you.”

  “What about me?” Zane asked. “My vacation was cut short too, remember?”

  “You? I could live without you,” Logan joked, and everyone burst out laughing—even Zane, who never missed an opportunity to laugh at himself. That was one trait he didn’t share with the others. None of them particularly liked laughing at themselves.

  It was nearing midnight when they turned onto the road leading to the on-ramp for I-95. The surroundings were unlit, the area dark enough that Logan almost missed the turn entirely. They were practically in the woods, and Sledge noted the way Logan tapped the brakes before every turn on a road that was full of them.

  Even now, as a man, Sledge sensed the presence of so many creatures in the woods. He smelled them, heard them. And they would sense the presence of wolves, which would probably keep them off the road and away from the passing car, but there was no way of telling for sure.

  The presence of taillights up ahead came as a surprise. This was hardly a well-traveled road. “Way too fast,” Logan muttered mostly to himself with a shake of his head. “I swear people are determined to get themselves killed.”

  There was a rise up ahead, and Sledge leaned forward, watching in surprise as it became clear that there were two cars involved, two pairs of taillights. “What are they trying to do?” he muttered in disgust. Stupid kids, probably, living out in the middle of nowhere with nothing better to do than get drunk and race on an unlit road in the middle of the night.

  “Mark my word. We’ll find one of them in a ditch,” Jace snickered. “Careless kids.”

  The car fell silent, all of them watching intently as things unfolded ahead of them. Logan maintained a safe distance, which Sledge appreciated, though part of him wanted a better look at what was going on up there.

  “Holy shit!” Logan growled. Sledge could see why. The rear car, which appeared to be chasing the one in front, suddenly swerved to the left. Now both cars were visible, and it became clear that the one that had been bringing up the rear was now veering dangerously close to the second car.

  “They’re trying to run them off the road!” Braxton exclaimed in surprise. Yes, that was exactly what appeared to be happening. This wasn’t a race. This was an attempted murder or, at the very least, a threat that could end up getting someone killed.

  Logan put on speed to catch up to them, which again Sledge appreciated. Even before their DNA had been altered, they were all deeply protective men with a habit of taking chances for the sake of others. None of them could stand to see someone being taken advantage of, threatened, any of it.

  For a moment, Sledge could imagine catching up to the pursuing car and bringing them to a stop. What would the driver think when they set eyes on five me
n who’d already been large before they’d been turned into shifters? Now there was barely space for all five of them in an oversized SUV. Anyone who didn’t know better would think they were on their way from a bodybuilding convention or something.

  With that image in mind, he wished Logan would go faster. He wanted to catch up to them, to put a little fear into them. They would think twice before pulling anything like this again.

  But it was too late. Before they could reach the pair of cars ahead, the pursuing car managed to force the other one off the road. All of them let out groans of despair, dread, as a pair of taillights suddenly disappeared into the brush. “Dammit!” Logan growled, revving the engine and tearing down what remained of the road between them.

  There wouldn’t be any catching the pursuing car now, as the vehicle sped off into the night. Within moments, the taillights blinked out like they had never been there at all. But they weren’t important now. There were people in that car, at least one person, and they probably needed help.

  Logan brought the SUV to a stop where skid marks veered off into the trees. The taillights were visible from here, and the stench of smoke and gasoline filled the air when Sledge opened the door. “Be careful!” Logan called out as the five of them made their way through the trampled brush to where the car collided with a tree.

  Sledge heard Logan on the phone with dispatchers while he and the others made their way to the car. The entire front was smashed in, and a low-hanging branch had crashed through the windshield. “Careful!” Braxton urged Sledge as he worked his way through dense foliage to the passenger side.

  “Oh, damn it.” It was clear from just a glance inside that the driver was gone, impaled by the branch. But the passenger was breathing, if unconscious.

  He pried open the door and touched her throat, feeling the strong beat of her heart beneath the skin. His wolf wanted him to take note of her softness, the sweetness of her perfume. He could smell it even over the thick, cloying scent of blood from the dead driver.