by Vella Day
At some point, she’d have to call home. She usually called at least every other week. Clay told her the general had called her parents and explained about the abduction and that she was safe. Elena was sure her mom needed to hear her voice.
He smiled. “Sure. We’ll take care of it right away.”
That was easy. “And I’ll need a driver’s license, too. I can’t get a passport without ID.” Those bastards had stolen her purse. When she’d drive again in Gulfport was anyone’s guess.
“I’ll be happy to do what I can.” Dirk was in the back and kept quiet, but Clay really seemed interested in helping her.
Within ten minutes, they pulled down a back alley. Her body tensed. This place looked almost as bad as the warehouse district. “Are you sure this is a good area for a party?”
“Sugar, trust me. The Field brothers run a tight ship. There won’t be any trouble at their place tonight.”
Dirk leaned forward and rubbed her shoulder. “Or ever. It’s tighter than Fort Knox.”
She leaned her head back against the seat. “You mean I don’t have to be on my guard?”
Clay chuckled. “Nope. We want you to let loose, baby.”
She couldn’t wait.
Dirk helped her out. The hard part was gaining entrance. The eye scan was cool, but Clay said that was only for the owners.
“Tell me their names again besides Liz Wharton and Trax and Dante Field.”
“I’m not positive who all will be here, but I’m betting Kurt Wendlick and his partner Drake Stanton were invited. They both work for the Pack. Their mate is Chelsea Wilson.”
That made two ménage couples attending. She was highly curious how the threesomes would interact. Jealousy between the men seemed the biggest issue. Her mind still couldn’t cope with what it would be like to have two men with her in bed—not that she had any plans of finding out first hand. Liar.
When they arrived, the party seemed to be in full swing. She leaned close to Clay who’d walked her upstairs. “Wow. This place is awesome.” The brick walls, hardwood floors, and granite countertops screamed money.
“Elena.” The woman, Liz, who’d approached her in front of her office rushed over to her. She clasped her hand. “I’m so sorry about what happened. I never should have asked you to leave your job.”
“You offered me money to leave something I hated.” She assumed Liz knew what had happened. “You weren’t responsible for those men taking me. They targeted me and could just as easily have abducted me after work.”
“I still feel guilty.”
She placed a hand on Liz’s arm. “Don’t worry. In the end, it kind of worked out.” Even without spelling out what had happened, her face grew hot. Both Clay and Dirk were speaking with two other men. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure. Anything.”
This was harder than she thought. “It’s kind of personal.”
Liz’s mouth gaped open then quickly shut. “You want to know what it’s like being with two men.”
She hadn’t expected Liz to be so open. “Yes.”
Her new friend guided her over to the sofa. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“I’m fine.”
Liz sat next to her. “I never imagined dating two guys at once, let alone sleeping with one after the other.”
She did understand. “Me, either.” Her mother’s wagging finger appeared in her mind’s eye. “What does your mother think about you being with both men?”
Liz’s cheer dimmed. “She’s not with us anymore.”
“I’m so sorry.” Elena never was good with spouting platitudes about another person’s grief.
Suddenly, another girl plopped down next to her on the couch and Liz brightened. “Elena, this is my good friend, Chelsea Wilson.”
They shook hands. Clay had mentioned Chelsea was the realtor who’d stumbled across a dead body. If that wasn’t bad enough, she’d spotted the killer running away. Unfortunately, for her, he decided she shouldn’t live.
Elena wanted to pick their brains. “Can I ask you both something?” Her gaze snapped between the two.
Chelsea leaned in closer. “If it’s about being with two amazingly hot men at once, go for it.”
“No.” She shook her head. “It’s about how you handle being with men in such dangerous jobs.”
Chelsea glanced at Liz then back at her. “Did your men tell you about the poison bullets?”
“No.” It was quite clear she didn’t know all that much about them. Between Liz and Chelsea, she got quite the history lesson about werewolves.
Chelsea was the chatterbox. “The Pack needs to stop the Colters because they are so hard to kill. If the FBI or the police ever got involved, a lot of human lives would be lost.”
“That makes me feel better.” Both Clay and Dirk had been in near death skirmishes, yet an hour later, they hardly had a scratch on them. It was only after the fact that Dirk told her about the attack on the guard.
Clay sauntered over with a deviled egg in his hand. “There you are. Come meet some of my cohorts.”
Both of her new friends stood. “We’ll introduce you to our men, too.”
As she followed Liz, she spotted the large diamond ring on her finger. “I see congratulations are in order.”
Liz grinned and wiggled her hand. “Yeah. I got the best two, but you both have fine men, too.”
Elena wouldn’t trade hers for anything. Hers? When had she started thinking in terms of keeping them both?
Clay held out his hand and when their fingers touched, a tremor raced through her. This man did something to her at a molecular level. Clay introduced her to about ten more Pack members, but she had a hard time remembering their names. All were muscular, well-groomed, and somewhere between twenty-five and thirty-five.
She looked up at Clay. “Are there any fat werewolves?” Mr. Couch only had a small pooch, but he was significantly older.
“Plenty, but we train to keep in good shape to fight the Colters.”
That made sense. Clay introduced her to a few women who he said had shifter dads. More questions bombarded her. “Can they shift, too?”
“Don’t worry. Only men can shift. These women only have a very slight difference in their DNA from you.”
For the next two hours, she stayed with either Dirk or Clay enjoying the Pack’s tales of heroism. She suspected the more they drank, the more the tales became exaggerated.
Trax’s phone rang and he had to hold a hand over his ear. Eventually, he stepped down the hallway. He returned, made a beeline to the music system, and shut it down.
“Dirk, Brandon, Sam, Drake, and Kurt. We have a job to do.”
Her heart sank. The party had been so much fun. She tugged on Clay’s arm. His jaw had tightened, and his shoulders appeared stiffer than cement.
“Do you know what’s going on?”
She doubted he could know as only Trax received the call, but perhaps this happened often.
“No. Let me find out.”
At least he hadn’t been asked to go. Perhaps Trax figured Clay needed to take care of her. The mood of the partygoers turned dark as Trax gathered his team.
Liz and Chelsea came up next to her. “This sucks, huh?” Liz said.
She studied both women. “You seem to be used to this sort of thing.”
Liz nodded. “Trax is one of the group leaders, so he’s always getting the call. The general has his number on speed dial.” She seemed more resigned than worried.
Clay trotted back to her. “Seems there’s been a tip about another human sale. The general gave the orders to take them down.”
Both Liz’s and Chelsea’s brows furrowed. Elena’s stomach churned at the horror they might uncover. “None of the men can die, right?”
Chelsea placed a hand on her shoulder. “Not unless the special bullet pierces their heart or enough poison hits the bloodstream and they can’t get the antidote made in time.”
Clay drew her near. “Let�
�s not scare my mate to death.” He kissed her forehead. “Dirk can handle himself, as can the other men.” He glanced from Chelsea back to her. “Kurt offered his beach house to us tonight.”
“A home on the beach sounds wonderful.” The idea of being alone with Clay appealed to her, but knowing her, she’d be worried about Dirk the whole time.
“It is.”
Had Clay asked Kurt if they could stay there for her safety? “Am I in danger?”
“I hope not, but I don’t like to take chances.” He wrapped an arm around her waist. Something seemed odd about the offer, but questioning him would only elevate her anxiety. “Are we going right now?” It was close to midnight.
“As soon as we stop back at the house to pack a few things.”
She had no idea how far away this house might be, but if it was on the west coast of Florida, the only reason to leave now was because Clay knew more than he was saying.
Chapter Nine
Elena felt a little embarrassed about falling asleep in the car on the way to Kurt’s other home.
“We’re here.” Clay cut the engine.
She yawned and stretched. “Sorry, I wasn’t much of a companion. Where are we?”
“It’s a small town called Orangeburg. It’s about forty-five minutes south of Gulfside.”
She’d never heard of it. Clay opened his door and she opened hers. The air was chillier here, but the salt air smelled refreshing.
He gathered their suitcases. “Follow me.”
As soon as they neared the door, lights clicked on. “That’s handy.”
“The place is rigged with all sorts of cool stuff.”
When they entered, lamplight lit the cozy living room. The pastels and soft fabrics gave it a lived-in feel, yet from the carefully placed artwork, it appeared professionally decorated.
“I like it.”
“I do, too. Tomorrow, I’ll give you the full tour. Let me show you to your room.”
Since she could barely keep her eyes open, she was good with that. For a moment, she thought Clay might suggest they share a room, but sleeping alone worked, too. It would give her time to figure out what she wanted to do.
He pushed a door open and motioned for her to enter. As soon as she went in, the light from three soft sconces cast a yellow glow over the room. The king-size bed only took up a portion of the room. A two-seater sofa, two chairs, and a coffee table huddled in the far corner.
“This is amazing.”
He chuckled. “Don’t get too used to the luxury.”
Uh-oh. “I didn’t mean your place wasn’t nice.” Yeesh. She had a sleep-deprived brain.
“I know. I’m kidding.” He put down both suitcases and rubbed both of her shoulders.
When he leaned close, her heart hammered. His lips parted and she thought he’d kiss her. All right, she wanted him to kiss her.
“Are you going to be okay by yourself in a strange place?”
The first night at their house, she said she didn’t want to be alone, but instinctively understood Dirk was the one for her. As much as there was a strong attraction between her and Clay, at least on her part, she didn’t think it was reciprocated.
“I’m good.”
“I’ll be next door if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
He picked up his suitcase and walked out.
A small crack split her heart. She squashed the debate in her head about whether to crawl into his bed or not. The potential rejection seemed too great. Right now, it would be better to have a good night’s sleep and see how things panned out tomorrow. Her goal, too, was not to dwell on Dirk or if he was in danger.
* * *
When Elena opened her eyes, it took a moment to realize where she was. The heavenly scent of coffee snuck under her door and forced her to get up. Quickly, she changed into a different pair of yoga pants, and layered a short sleeve shirt under a thin sweater. The beach might be cold this time of year.
Pans banged and the rich aroma of breakfast trailed down the hallway. It was easy to locate the kitchen. When she passed through the living room and stepped into the kitchen, Clay was busy scraping the pan with a rubber pancake turner and cursing.
“Need help?”
He whipped around and the tension in his face dissipated. “You cook?”
“My mother is Hispanic. I think I had a pot and a wooden spoon in my hand when I was two.” She stepped next to him. Only a hint of cologne reached her over the burnt eggs. “Did you put any oil in the pan first?”
“Fuck.” He clamped his mouth shut. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay. I might be inexperienced in bed, but trust me, I’ve heard it all.” Too often Harvey Couch would be in his office and would swear up a storm. Looking back, she realized she should have quit months before.
“Do you think it’s edible?” He lifted the pan. The bottom was charred and the eggs dirty.
“No.”
“There aren’t any more eggs. You want to eat out?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
He dumped the ruined batch down the sink and ran the disposal.
At some point, she’d have to find a job and start paying them back. It wasn’t their responsibility to support her—mate or no mate.
“Let’s go.”
She thought they’d take the car, but instead he led them down the drive and across the empty road to the beach.
“There’s a diner around here?”
“Yup.”
The seagulls squawked and the wind whipped so vigorously she had to hold her hair with one hand. But the fresh air invigorated her.
Clay clasped her free hand and the gesture thrilled her. In silence, they walked along the shore, dancing away from the water with each incoming wave.
“Not many people out today,” she said. The clouds had rolled in, but it was still nice.
“Orangeburg isn’t much of a tourist town.”
They’d walked no more than fifty feet when Clay stopped. He pulled her back against his chest and pointed out at the Gulf. “Look. Dolphins.”
As she searched the waves, two fins popped up next to each other. “Oh, wow. I wish I had my phone so I could take a picture.”
“I have mine.” He stepped back, turned it on, and even pressed the camera display for her. “Give it a go.”
The few attempts caught the beautiful animals after they’d already disappeared. “It’s hard to capture them at the peak of the leap.”
“Let me. My reflexes are faster.” He slipped the camera from her fingers.
That was one more thing she didn’t know about his kind.
He snapped away and grinned. “Got it.”
After he swiped a finger over the screen to enlarge the photo he moved closer to show her the shot. The tail of one was about eight inches above the water, but the other dolphin was half in the air.
“That’s fantastic.”
He rubbed the phone on his chest as if to brag. Without saying a word, he held up the camera and shot a picture of her. She immediately covered her face.
“I look terrible. I don’t have any makeup on.”
“I think you’re gorgeous.”
His words stunned her. She was too fat, too short, and a host of other toos, but gorgeous wasn’t one of them. He grabbed her hand and led her a few feet away from the water.
“Sit down and let me shoot you.”
She bit back her retort about not seeing any weapon. “I’m not photogenic.”
He waved a hand. “I wish I had a real camera. What I could do. Mmm.”
Images of her naked, spread out on a bed, slammed into her. Bad girl. Why did being around Clay bring out the worst in her? They were on a beach, and because no one was around, she thought it safe to pose.
She sat, leaned back on her hands and stretched out her legs. Sand would find its way into every crevice, but that would make the shower more divine.
“How’s this?” She dropped back her head and closed her eyes to
shield them from the glare.
The digital camera on the phone clicked and clicked. “You’re amazing.”
Any good photographer would try to make her feel at ease and it was working. After twenty seconds, she decided to change poses. She sat up, grabbed her knees to her chest, and turned her face away toward the sea.
“That’s perfect.” Clay got in close, but his nearness didn’t make her tense. Quickly, she faced him and stuck out her tongue. He grinned. “You’ll pay for that.”
“At least you can’t put it up on Facebook for every Colter to see.”
“Damn. You’re right.”
She held out her hand as he pulled her to her feet.
“I want to take pictures of you.”
“Moi? I’m not photogenic.” He kept his voice mockingly high.
She punched him in the chest and took the phone from him. He’d never go for stretching out in the sand, so she shot him standing. When he didn’t object to her moving around, she decided to see if he would be amenable to posing a different way.
“I know it’s a little chilly, but would you mind taking off your shirt? You could hook one thumb in your waistband and hold the shirt over your shoulder like this.” She did the pose for him.
He cocked a brow, but he did as she asked. Once bare-chested, her breath caught. “Wow. You look hot.”
His abs tightened. “Really?”
He must know how good looking he was. “Well, now that you ask, I’m not sure.” She held the camera in front of her, zoomed in to frame him correctly and snapped away. She pictured them rolling in the sand and needing to wash together. If that happened, she’d make sure to explore him more thoroughly.
Last night after the party, she’d decided to give Clay a try. Ménages seemed to work for Liz and Chelsea. Why not her? She’d already sinned once. What was once more?
“Would you mind getting on the sand and clasping your hands behind your head?”
“You sure?”
She giggled. “Just do it.”
He dropped down, tossed his shirt to the side, and placed his hands like she’d asked. Her heart sputtered. She took one full-length shot then straddled his legs to frame his torso.