by Abby Blake
“Uh-huh,” she said skeptically. “And if I refuse to come to the compound before the full moon?”
“Then I’ll come get you.”
* * * *
Arrogant assholes!
Every one of them had kissed her good-bye.
And, hey, hadn’t that been totally awful? So awful in fact that she was considering calling them back and getting them to do it all over again. And maybe this time they could try it lying down, or in the shower, or up against the wall naked. Naked was good. Naked would be very good.
Andrea shook her head, trying to rationalize the arousal coursing through her body. She’d been shot. They’d saved her life. It was just hero worship. Yup, hero worship, nothing more. So why was she staring at the bedroom door, wondering if perhaps she had time to run down the stairs and stop them before they left?
Holy crap! What had they done to her? Her libido had never been this out of control.
She lifted her index finger to her mouth, subconsciously falling into her old nervous habit of biting her nails, but the stench of stale blood filled her nostrils once more. Her stomach heaved slightly, protesting the smell. Maybe she should have another shower.
She glanced at the clock and finally noticed that it was only three in the morning. She didn’t need to get up for another five hours. Making a quick decision, Andrea stepped into the shower, scrubbed herself from head to foot, pulled on her pajamas, and went back to bed.
* * * *
“I can feel her,” Isaac said. So could Daegan. In fact, even though they were about three hundred yards down the road, the link to their mate was getting stronger. “Did you ever think we’d find her?”
“Not really,” Daegan answered honestly. They’d always figured the two of them would share a mate, he’d just doubted that she would exist. The type of telepathic communication they shared as identical twins was usually reserved for mated couples, so it had seemed likely that they would never find their true mate. What were the chances that one woman would be made to suit both of them?
Except that she’d been made for Xavier as well.
“What do you reckon about Xavier’s theory?”
“That something’s wrong and we only think she’s our mate?” His brother nodded. “I think Xavier is going to learn the hard way that you can’t fight fate.”
“Andrea, too,” Isaac said, sounding sad. Personally, Daegan couldn’t wait to live the fireworks that would be life with their mate. After their explosive beginning he had no doubt that loving Andrea for the rest of their lives was going to be one hell of a rollercoaster ride, and he couldn’t wait to get started.
But Isaac was a peacemaker. He liked life to run smoothly, so he usually tried to make everyone happy. It didn’t always work, but he was the reason their pack managed to get by with very little bloodshed—quite unusual for werewolves, even in a pack as small as theirs.
“Our mate will be fine. She’ll adjust to life as a werewolf quickly enough. We just need to give her a little time is all,” Daegan said, hopefully sounding a little more confident than he felt. He might look forward to the fireworks, but it promised to be a difficult time for his brother.
“I know,” Isaac said as he lay back on his own bed and stared at the ceiling. “I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I’m pretty sure Andrea wasn’t it.”
Daegan bristled at the apparent rejection of their mate and found himself halfway off the bed before he could pull his temper under control. Shit, he and Isaac never fought. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time they’d even disagreed, but here he was ready to beat the shit out of his twin for a perceived slight against their mate. Fortunately, sense kicked in, and he was able to see the comment for what it was—just an observation about their mate’s unexpectedly abrasive personality.
Daegan lay back on his own bed and laughed quietly. “If nothing else, life will never be dull.”
* * * *
Andrea writhed against the cool sheets as her faceless dream lover kissed her all over. She groaned as he reached her breasts, sucking hard against her straining nipple before biting down gently. She moved her hands, intending to thread her fingers through his hair and hold him to her. But her wrists were caught by another man, and he pressed them against the pillow as he climbed over her, straddling her chest, his hard cock bouncing close to her mouth.
“Suck me,” he growled as he pressed his erection against her lips. The other man moved lower, pressing kisses to her mound, his hands pushing her thighs wide, his tongue seeking her clit, his fingers pushing into her pussy. She gasped at the incredible sensation, and the man above her quickly pressed his cock into her open mouth. He was thick and wide, and she hurried to adjust, but the first taste of him on her tongue was ambrosia, and she sucked harder against the soft flesh. The man groaned, tangling his fingers in her hair, holding her steady as he pumped slowly into her mouth. The angle was awkward, the thrusts quite shallow, but he moaned as she licked him with her tongue, tasting his pre-cum, sucking him harder, wanting more.
“Open your eyes,” a gruff voice demanded. She looked up to see Xavier, a smile on his face, his naked cock mere inches from her hand. She wriggled her fingers, and Daegan laughed softly as he released his hold. She reached out to take Xavier in her grip. He groaned, his hips thrusting his cock into her hand as his brother pushed deeper into her mouth.
Daegan pumped harder into her mouth as the third man thrust his tongue in her pussy, fucking her hard and deep, holding her legs still as the three of them drove her insane. She mewled in protest when Daegan pulled out of her mouth, but he grabbed her other hand, wrapped it around his cock, and made room for Isaac.
Isaac moved up her body, his smile promising heavenly delights. Daegan and Xavier each moved to grab her knees, pulling her wide open as Isaac thrust his cock into her pussy. She growled, the noise seeming to inflame her lovers as Isaac began to move more forcefully. He pounded into her, his hard cock going deeper, the movement pushing her harder into the mattress, only Xavier’s and Daegan’s grip on her legs holding her still for Isaac’s fucking.
She pulled on their cocks, her hand massaging harder, their groans spurring her on to greater heights of need. Everything inside her tightened, her orgasm spinning closer, her breath catching in her throat as…
The fucking alarm clock went off.
Andrea practically leapt from the bed, her hands shaking, her insides quivering, her arousal damn near overpowering. She slammed a hand on the snooze button, willing herself to calm down, taking deep breaths, trying to relax even as the dream replayed in her head.
She glanced around the room, somehow convinced her dream lovers were here, were real. But the room was empty, and she was completely alone. Andrea lifted her pajamas away from her sweaty skin and shakily decided she may as well get her day started.
She was about to step into the shower when the rest of her dream, the part that had come before the incredible ménage scene, unraveled in her head. She lifted her pajama top, smoothing her hand over the soft skin, assuring herself that she hadn’t really been shot. But it had seemed so real—well, except for the werewolf part, because there was no such thing as werewolves—so she turned off the shower, pulled on her robe, and headed down the stairs.
If she’d been shot, there would be some evidence—blood, a spent casing, a bullet. She felt a little silly searching for something that obviously wasn’t there, but she could swear she smelled blood exactly where she’d been shot in her dream.
But that had to be psychosomatic. She’d only dreamed of being shot. There was no way she could smell blood where there wasn’t any. Yet her logic didn’t stop her from heading upstairs, pulling on some clothes, and scrubbing the area over and over.
Andrea scrubbed harder, trying to get the smell out of the wood grain of the floorboards. In her time as an officer in the LAPD she’d seen the evidence of enough violent deaths to know what should be there if she’d been shot. The fact that she was still walking around and f
elt better than ever—faster, stronger, her senses greatly enhanced—would certainly discount her theory.
Where the hell she dreamed up Isaac, Daegan, and Xavier from was still a mystery, but she took it as a sign that her libido was sending her a rather loud message. She’d been divorced for several years now. Maybe it was time to get back on the dating horse, so to speak.
Of course the fact that she’d dreamed they were werewolves just proved she watched too much television.
The doorbell to the store jingled, and Andrea quickly stripped off the gloves and dropped them into the bucket behind the counter. It wouldn’t be convenient to try and explain what she was doing to someone trying to buy jewelry.
When she turned around, she found the sheriff’s deputy standing near the front door. “Hi, Louise,” Andrea said, trying to sound casual despite the fact that Louise was one person she didn’t really want to talk to right now. She and Louise had been good friends ever since Andrea had moved into town, but right at this moment she wasn’t sure she wanted to try and explain why she was cleaning away imaginary blood. Considering she was still standing, it would take a shitload of arguing to convince a psychiatrist that she wasn’t crazy. Hell, she was beginning to question that herself. “What brings you here?”
“Jed Hawthorne,” Louise said with amusement in her voice. “He’s spent the last fifteen minutes down at the station blabbering about how he remembers shooting someone last night. He said it was you, but unless I’m talking to a ghost, I reckon he’s mistaken.”
“Ghost, yeah right,” Andrea said, trying to hide the note of panic in her voice. If Jed had been here, then was it possible that the rest of her “dream” had really happened, too? If werewolves were real, was it possible that ghosts did exist? What about vampires, shape-shifters, elves, sprites, leprechauns? Andrea’s head was starting to spin, and she struggled to come up with an explanation that didn’t involve the supernatural. “I…um…had three drunks in ski masks come in late last night. I figured one of them was Jed Hawthorne. They called the skinny guy with a beer gut Stan, but I’m not sure who the third one was.”
Louise looked concerned and was probably pretty annoyed that that Andrea hadn’t reported the attempted robbery.
“Did they have a gun?”
“No,” Andrea lied. Well, it wasn’t a lie, not really. If Jed had actually held a gun on her, then that would mean she had been shot, and since she had no wounds, she must not have been shot, so he must not have had a gun. Feeling better from her own rambling logic, no matter how flawed, Andrea tried to come up with a plausible explanation instead. “Jed did point his finger at me like a little kid playing cowboys, so maybe that’s what he remembers.” Hey, the theory worked for her, as long as she didn’t look at it too closely. “Anyway, I just figured it was a joke and let them stagger out of here.”
Louise laughed, but Andrea didn’t miss the relief in her friend’s voice. It was a small town. The sheriff and his deputy spent most of their days dealing with traffic accidents on the nearby highway. An exciting night would involve having two drunks in the drunk tank instead of just the usual one.
“Jed’ll be relieved,” Louise said, glancing around the small store. “Of course, you’re more than welcome to press charges. Technically what they did is still considered attempted robbery.”
“No,” Andrea answered quickly—maybe a little too quickly judging by Louise’s searching look. “I mean, I don’t want to press charges. It was just a drunken prank, but maybe you could use it to get them all into an AA program.”
“Not bad,” Louise said with a conspiratorial grin. “By the time I’m finished with them, they’ll be too frightened not to sign up. I swear if I have to spend one more shift listening to Jed’s drunken snoring, I might just go back to my old job at the grocery store.”
Andrea grinned with her this time. They both knew Louise was far happier as a sheriff’s deputy than she ever was as the manager of the local grocery store. Although, her life would have been simpler if the current sheriff wasn’t a walking dick.
Louise closed her notebook and turned to leave. “We still on for lunch this Friday?”
“Sure,” Andrea answered, determined to live her life normally no matter what was going on in her head.
Just as Louise was about to step through the door, she turned back. “Oh, by the way, I’ve had a couple of reliable reports about a wolf hanging around the area. Give us a holler if you see it. I’d rather Cal Sanders get to it with his tranquilizer gun before some of the yahoos start shooting in the middle of town.”
“Will do,” Andrea answered on a wobbly voice. Wolf sightings? Could that have been one of the Cloveck brothers in furry form? No, because the Cloveck brothers weren’t real. She’d made them up. Again Louise gave Andrea a concerned look, but thankfully she waved good-bye and stepped out the door.
This was turning out to be one hell of a week.
Chapter Three
By closing time Andrea almost had herself convinced that last night had just been a strange, protracted dream. There was no such thing as werewolves. Therefore they couldn’t have saved her life, which meant Jed hadn’t accidentally shot her. Going by that logic, she felt certain that the Cloveck brothers were simply part of her libido reminding her that it had been a very long time.
Perhaps it was time to pull BOB back into service.
She glanced at her watch and wondered if she had enough time to duck down the road and grab some new batteries. Although, come to think of it, the last time she’d used her vibrator she’d made a mental note to buy a new one, so maybe that wasn’t such a good thought.
Abandoning the idea of a date with the battery operated boyfriend, Andrea headed to the door, flipped the sign from open to closed, and turned the key in the deadlock. She was walking away when a strange sense of déjà vu filled her. She looked over her shoulder, feeling certain that the Cloveck brothers were somehow behind her, maybe even in the room with her. Her vision wavered as the feeling of being watched permeated every thought.
“Where are you?” she whispered.
But of course nobody answered. She was alone, just like she was this time every night. Andrea took a couple of deep breaths and tried to brush the irritating notion aside. She finally managed to convince herself everything was okay when a loud banging sound came from the front door. She practically leapt from her skin, but sweat trickled down her spine when she recognized the two men peering through the window.
No. Fucking. Way.
“Open up, Andrea,” Daegan said as soon as he spotted her in the dark area of the shop. “We can see you, beautiful, so there’s no use hiding like a frightened maiden.”
Fabulous. The damn man knew exactly what buttons to push to make her do precisely what he wanted. Maiden? Sheesh. She marched to the door, unlocked the deadbolt, and opened it a crack. “I’m closed. What do you want?”
“You,” Daegan said casually as he pushed the door open and walked in as if he owned the place.
“Yeah, well you can’t have me, so go away.” But she was still shaking in reaction. Their arrival had blown her denial fantasy to smithereens, and she was both happy and angry about it. Isaac wrapped his arms around her, and she gratefully snuggled into his warmth. She had no idea why she was allowing him to hold her, but she did it just the same.
Daegan must have realized something was wrong because he stepped closer and ran a finger down her face exactly as he’d done the night before. “Are you okay, beautiful?”
Still off balance in an emotional sense, she somehow managed to dredge up her sarcasm and pour it into a single word. “Peachy.”
Daegan laughed and then wandered over to the spot where she’d spent most of the day cleaning. “I got as much of it up as I could last night, but it was kind of hard in the dark, and I sure as hell didn’t want to attract attention by turning on the lights.” He moved back to stand beside her. “You did a good job. I can’t even smell the blood anymore.”
“
Yeah, well turns out my nose is pretty sensitive today. I had to keep scrubbing.” And even as she’d done it, she’d wondered what it meant. If she accepted everything she’d seen and heard last night, then it meant her life had changed forever. With these two standing in front of her, it seemed unlikely that she could once again convince herself that the events of last night were all imagination.
She turned into Isaac’s embrace, happy for the moment to deny the undeniable.
She didn’t even realize she was crying until Daegan pressed against her back and whispered, “It’s going to be okay, Andrea. I promise you everything will work out.”
“I nearly died last night, didn’t I?” Hell, was that breathless, tiny voice really hers?
“You would have if we hadn’t changed you,” Isaac said quietly. She nodded against his chest, swallowing hard as emotion crowded her thought processes.
“We’re sorry we didn’t have a chance to give you the choice,” Daegan said, “but we couldn’t let you go.”
“Because I’m your mate?” she whispered. She still had no idea what that meant. The way they’d described it felt an awful lot like an arranged marriage. Even if it was some higher power calling the shots, she much preferred the idea of making her own decisions. “But what if you don’t like me? What then?”
“Trust us, beautiful. We already like you. Love will come.”
“Seriously?” It sounded way too simple. These men were strangers. Just because her body seemed to have a mind of its own at the moment, it didn’t mean the future was bright and easy. She’d done the whole married thing before, and to say it hadn’t gone well was a seriously huge understatement.
“So how does this ‘mate’ thing work?”
“It starts with what we call a mating link. You’ll feel a connection to us, just the way we feel connected to you.”
“Because of what you did last night?”