A whimper started in her throat. She bit her bottom lip to keep the sound from spilling out.
Riktor turned around, giving her a perfect view of the tenting at his fly. A very large lump.
She stared at the erection. Well, well, well. The rumors were true. Heat cascaded through her chest and welled up her throat to fill her face. Sweat beaded on her brow. Pheromones swirled around her. Her vision blurred, the only clear thing she could focus on was Riktor. Her pussy contracted. She moved toward him on autopilot until they stood toe to toe.
She lifted her chin and gazed up at him.
A single word broke through the fog that swathed her mind: mate.
She paused. Mate?
Mickey stared at him, taking him in from the waves of dark hair to the tops of his expensive Italian leather shoes. Riktor presented the perfect image of what a successful alpha should be. In theory.
She opened up her mind and allowed the wolf to flow into her thoughts.
Riktor’s energy pelted her in a light wave. Everything else about him seemed compressed. His shuttered expression gave nothing away. His dark blue gaze rested on her.
Frustration welled up in woman and beast. They wanted a response, a sign of how he felt about her on his territory or her as a person. But she sensed nothing.
She gritted her teeth. A shockwave of heat burst upward to flow through her limbs. Why wasn’t he reacting? Why wasn’t he angry?
A good alpha didn’t just stand before his rival like a stone. Every glance, move, or expression was weighed, studied, and stored away for later, but he never gave the impression of impassivity.
Mickey took a step back.
The word “mate” continued to pulse in the back of her mind, but both woman and wolf didn’t know what to do with this new revelation. She couldn’t take the plunge without knowing what she was dealing with. Mickey didn’t doubt the veracity of this new information. To distrust her wolf was to disbelieve herself.
“We need more to go on,” she told the wolf.
“Agreed,” the wolf retorted.
She lifted her chin. Time for the she-wolf to hunt her mate. “Enough of this bullshit pretense, Riktor. Tell me how do you really feel about me being on your territory?”
CHAPTER SIX
“How do you really feel about me being on your territory?”
Riktor stared at Mickey Shaw, a rival alpha. His comprehension of her words slowed. Her spicy perfume with a floral undertone and hint of pheromones fogged his brain. He licked his lips and tried to find a response.
Desire threaded his blood. Heat spread throughout his body. His engorged cock pressed against his fly, making his pants tight and uncomfortable. He wanted to reach down and adjust himself, but not in front of her.
“Show no weakness, boy,” his father’s voice hissed in his mind.
Riktor shook his head to dissipate his need to move closer to her, maybe reach out and touch her. He drank in her dark, seductive eyes, full lips, the delicate curve of her cheek, the constant throb of her pulse in her neck, and the rise and fall of her ample breasts pressing against her bodice. His palms prickled. A groan began deep his throat and came out in a low growl.
She lifted a thick brow. Her mouth opened and a soft rumble of response drifted out.
His ears pricked and the wolf within stared, its ears twitched, and its tail swished back and forth in a slow sweep.
“What do you want, Riktor?” Mickey moved toward him, hips rolling in a slow gait, her arms swinging back and forth by her side. “We can fuck, or we can fight, or we can just remain on opposite sides and watch each other in a stalemate.” She stopped in front of him. The tips of her breasts pressed against his torso but much to his annoyance, she didn’t lean forward to give him full contact.
His wolf whimpered as it endured the lust raging through him right now. Riktor’s cock jerked. He curled his hands into fists. His arms shook with effort to keep from reaching out to take her into his arms.
“I don’t want to fuck you,” he muttered with effort. Each syllable was clipped, but need laced his words.
She smirked. “So that’s not an erection pressing against my stomach? Or am I just being imaginative, hmm?”
Mickey reached up and trailed a fingertip along his shirt buttons.
Even through the plastic and fabric, he felt the heat of her touch. It branded his skin. His heartbeat raced, pounding against her rib cage.
“It’s that time of the month. The full moon and all. Pheromones heightened…” he blurted out. Heat flushed his face. “Fuck.”
She gave him a smoky chuckle. “Really? This isn’t my first full moon. I’ve experienced exactly what you’re going through. The horniness, the need for more meat, feeling more animalistic, more aggressive, everything irritating you.”
He jerked his gaze away and refocused on the room around them. “Are you comfortable here? If you want something bigger or smaller, I could move you.”
Mickey followed him, remaining so damn close and yet out of reach. “Very comfortable, even though the bed is a tad big for me.” Mirth lifted her tone. “We could ride out that time of the month together.” She reached up, placed her index finger on his chin and pushed his head down. “Much better. I love looking into those gorgeous, blueberry-blue eyes.”
Another blush of heat filled his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and no.” He moved away again, and this time his butt hit a side table.
“Nowhere to go, wolfman. Didn’t they ever tell you not to confront the big, bad bitch alpha alone?” She chuckled. “You still haven’t answered my question. Although, I can guess how you feel.” Her focus dipped to his belt and back up again.
Riktor fought the urge to cover his erection with his hands and cleared his throat. “I don’t like you being here, but I won’t kick you out.”
“And our attraction?” She took a step forward and again pressed the tips of her breasts against his torso again, daring him to act.
“Yes, I’m attracted to you, but no, I won’t sleep with you, not now or ever. Now back the fuck up,” Riktor ordered.
She took a step back. “Too bad. I really do need a spanking and some play time.” She spun on her heel and headed back to the sofa where she sank down and reposed against the plush pillows.
Riktor shut his eyes and fought against the burst of need. Tingles raced over his body. He fought back a curse. Somehow she knew about the Black Howl. “I take it that quip was courtesy of Everly?” Damn that asshole. No wonder he had been so nervous earlier.
She grinned. “I won’t reveal my sources. I will say that I’m not teasing you. I am serious. It’s been awhile since I’ve played, and you are just my type.”
Riktor shook his head. “And we have plenty of experienced Doms at Black Howl. I assume you know about it.”
“Oh, I know about it. I just know what I like and what I want. Call me stubborn, Riktor Brody.” She shrugged. “Let’s just say that I’ve had a crush on you for years and you’d make my year if you indulged me.”
Riktor let her confession sink in. “You’re kidding.”
Mickey grinned. “Nope. I’m sure this will come as a shock to you, but I had hoped that your father would’ve consented to a marriage contract for you and me. But he nixed it.”
Riktor stared at her. “What are you talking about?” He closed the distance between them to loom over her but kept himself from leaning down to crowd her space.
“My father wanted to make amends, so he suggested a marriage contract between us. This was a several years ago. You had just left college to rejoin the family business. Pa had just named me his heir. Your father said no. Everly told me you didn’t know.” She stared up at him. Her body stilled. Her gaze remained on him.
Riktor straightened up. “That bastard. I deserved to know!”
“But he said no, so…”
Riktor shook his head. “It’s my life. I might have considered it.” He sank down to allow the shock to work its way
through his system. “What else did he keep from me? Who else did he try to sell me off to?”
Mickey sat up and leaned forward. “My father approached him, not the other way around. He just didn’t bother to tell you.”
Riktor focused on her. “And why are you telling me now?”
“I’m not your enemy, Riktor. I know you don’t believe that, given the threat I pose to you at the moment, but I want you to believe that I’m not here to take away your legacy.”
Riktor shook his head. “I can’t believe that right now. Not with my brothers’ legacy on the line. You are a threat, Michaela Shaw, and I can’t ignore that. You are here, and that’s all that matters.”
“Then we’re at an impasse, and I refuse to leave. So keep a close eye on me all you want, but in the end, you will see I mean you no harm.” Mickey sat back. “Oh, and you can call me Mickey. Can I call you Rik?”
Riktor stood up. “No. Not even my brothers call me Rik,” he lied, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Well.” Mickey followed suit and stood up. “I’m not your brother.” She winked.
Damn her, he actually liked her. Regret left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wanted to kiss the fuck out of her, feel her curves against his body, and find out if she really did need a good spanking like she claimed. The staggering power of his desire for her made it difficult to think clearly, to think of anything but taking her in his arms. Right. Now.
Instead, he forced himself to turn and head for the door. “Enjoy your stay here, Ms. Shaw. Let the front desk know if they can do anything to make your stay better.”
She followed him. “Oh, you know what you can do to make my stay much more pleasant, Mr. Brody, you just refuse to do it.” She laughed and closed the door behind him.
Riktor stood in front of the entryway for a few seconds. His erection continued to pulse and push against his fly. His body flared hot and cold, and his wolf wanted to go back in there and kiss her senseless and do a whole lot more.
“I’m in some serious trouble,” he muttered to himself.
* * *
“Russell Winthrop checking in.” Russell put his forearms on the counter and grinned at the woman helping him, making sure that she could see his extra sharp canines, filed to his specifications—his signature look.
She smiled back, but it didn’t reach her eyes, much to his annoyance.
“Welcome to the resort, Mr. Winthrop. Your room is ready. Do you have any bags you’d like to be taken up?” She stared at him, no emotion on her face whatsoever, not even a small tingle of fear.
“No, no. Do you know if a Ms. Shaw has checked in yet?” He leaned forward and moved a hand toward his pocket, bribe all ready to go. Charm and intimidation hadn’t worked, so why not try the thing that made the world go ’round…well, almost made it go ’round.
“I’m sorry, we don’t comment on who checks into our resort. For privacy purposes. Please, enjoy your stay.” The woman handed him the key card to his room.
Russell continued to smile and accepted the piece of plastic. “No problem, and I’m sure I will.” He turned and left.
Run, run, little bitch. I know you’re here, he thought and headed toward the bank of elevators.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mickey made sure to be very visible the next day, wearing a bright red top and skin-tight leggings with high heels. Eat your heart out, Riktor. For his part, Riktor also made sure to be seen. He hung around the front desk in the lobby area. Riktor appeared in the casual dining area for coffee. He moved around the swimming area in a full suit, talking to the lifeguards.
When she went to the spa for her late afternoon appointment, her wolf thrilled at this little dance between them. The only spoiler: Ace loomed around Riktor like the grim werewolf reaper, always at his brother’s heels, a scowl at the ready.
Banan for his part appeared in the lobby and at the spa to fix the computers. He gave her shy glances but didn’t come near. A crimson flush colored his cheeks, but curiosity sparkled in his eyes. Nervous energy drifted off of him and pelted her side in gentle taps.
She couldn’t help but gift him with a smile while she checked in. He was adorable, in his rumpled She-Hulk shirt, baggy jeans, and scuffed-up high top sneakers, headphones hung around his neck.
“OK, Ms. Shaw, your private suite is ready, please enjoy.” The attendant gave her a wide grin.
“Oh, I’m sure Ms. Shaw will enjoy every delicious minute of it,” an unctuous voice purred behind her.
Mickey stilled. The hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood up. Acid sloshed around her stomach. She knew that voice. On autopilot, she glanced away from the threat behind her and toward Riktor. She licked her lips and tried to meet his eyes. Hopefully he got the message.
He didn’t even flinch, much less give her any indication that he’d received her silent plea.
She swallowed and pasted what she hoped looked like a normal smile on her lips.
“Michaela Shaw, how fortuitous running into you here! I guess we’re both running from the snow.” Russell Winthrop chuckled behind her. He placed a hand on her elbow. “What? No hug for an old friend?”
She did a slow turn but didn’t miss Riktor’s narrowed eyes or the thinning of his lips.
Maybe he had finally gotten her message and his response had been delayed, or maybe Russell’s toxic aura had affected him even from a few feet away.
Her wolf whimpered in potent fear. It attempted to send the magic for the shift up and down her limbs.
With mental force of will, Mickey pushed it back. She wheeled around, faced Russell, leaned in and gave him air kisses but refused to give him the contact he wanted. Mickey kept her body several inches away from his. The less contact she had with him, the less contamination she would suffer. Thankfully, he didn’t move any closer.
Russell was dressed in an expensive silk floral-print shirt, white shorts, and boat shoes. His wispy, mouse-brown hair lay slicked back from his too-angular face. Washed-out, denim-blue eyes stared at her with dim malice.
Russell pouted. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?” A thick brow winged upward.
“Who should I introduce you to?” She refused to play Russell’s game, whatever it was.
He gave her a devilish grin that showed off his very sharp canines. “Why, the alpha of the Brody pack, of course.” He directed his gaze behind her.
She shook her head. “Not sure who you’re talking about. I’m late for my appointment.” Mickey turned on her heel and headed toward the wide, curved entryway.
Once away from the front desk, everything quieted down. All noise became muted. The tension faded until footsteps sounded behind her.
She turned her head, expecting to see Russell. Instead, Riktor strode toward her, purpose in each step and worry etched in the hard lines of his face.
Relief swept through her. Heat flared deep in her groin. Her pussy contracted and her slit dampened. She swallowed for a whole new reason. Her nipples tightened to hardened points. All those brief glimpses of him throughout the day had teased her hunger for him but hadn’t given her enough time for a proper reaction. Now, she couldn’t push it down or ignore it.
Her wolf latched onto Riktor’s presence, used it to calm its nerves. The shift faded away to a dull buzz in the back of her mind.
A whimper curled up tight and sat heavy in her throat, just waiting for her to give it a push to come out.
“Riktor.” She managed to get his name out around the lump.
“What’s going on, Michaela? Who is that, and why are you scared?” Riktor came to a stop in front of her, only an inch away. The Grand Canyon might as well have opened up between them.
“Russell Winthrop, alpha of the Winthrop pack and all-around asshole. My father tried to marry me off to him and called it off after one day. He’s a creepy fucker with a penchant for stirring up shit. Nothing to worry about…he’s here for me.”
Riktor cocked his head to the side, concern creasing his brow
. “Why?” Genuine emotion colored his tone. “Your engagement is over. The agreement is void. Him being here is just overkill.”
She shrugged. “Ego. He couldn’t stand that he couldn’t charm my father or me into sealing the deal. I can handle him.” She didn’t add I hope. Unlike last time when she was alone, no pack to back her up, and no mother to threaten Russell with a beating so bad that she’d turn his hide into a rug for her guest room.
Riktor shook his head. “Not good enough. Did you come here to escape the snows, steal our legacy, or avoid him? Tell me the truth.”
She groaned. “Seriously? Option one. Three never crossed my mind. Winthrop was supposed to be holed up in his family’s London business. And yes, I keep tabs on him. You can’t just leave an enemy alive and expect them to slink away.” Despite her attempt at flippancy, her voice came with a bit of tremor.
Riktor narrowed his eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?” He reached out.
Much to her disappointment, he didn’t make contact.
Riktor dropped his hand, his gaze hardening. “I will not have a pack fight in my territory, and I also won’t get involved in your pack squabbles.”
She nodded. “I refuse to let that happen to you. I know you don’t believe me, but I really don’t mean you or your brothers any trouble.”
“You just want to fuck him cross-eyed,” her wolf whispered to her. Mickey ignored her.
Riktor gave her a curt nod in return. “Good. Enjoy your appointment.” He turned on his heel and left her in a cloud of disappointment, wolf musk, pheromones, and a rich dark scent with an undertone of incense and leather.
She watched him go. Yearning twisted in her gut to go after him.
Damn Winthrop. She’d wear his guts for garters. After her massage.
Mickey made her way to her massage suite and undressed. She tried to relax, but the thought of danger hung in the corners of her mind. She hated having Winthrop hanging over her like this. The Brodys, but especially Riktor, would never trust her. And after coming face to face with Riktor, she now wanted that very badly. Despite her very human reservations, her wolf’s surety on Riktor being their mate rang through her. She needed him to trust her, build up the bond between them, and show him that she really wasn’t a threat to him or his brothers. Winthrop’s arrival threw a monkey wrench in the works.
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