by Anne Marsh
He calls me his mate.
I’m not sure how I feel about that. I’m not averse to settling down, although I certainly didn’t plan on doing it with a werewolf.
Right on cue, since we’ve been parted approximately five minutes now, Luc follows me out onto the porch and hands me a cup of coffee. I tell myself the coffee is the only reason I don’t head for the dock. That and my promise. Technically I owe the man four more nights. I lean back against him, wrapping my hands around the mug. Simple things count too.
He stiffens suddenly, pulling away from me. “Go back inside.”
Um. No. It’s daylight, so I’m definitely not in the taking orders business. I take another a long sip from my mug. Funny how he makes better coffee than I do. The rich notes of chicory explode on my taste buds.
“Sun’s up,” I remind him, more to needle than anything. “Sorry, but you’re out of the order-giving business for at least another eight hours.”
A wolf streaks past us from one of the houseboats, moving in a deadly blur. I haven’t quite wrapped my head around the reality of shape-shifters. It’s easier to accept out here in the bayou, however, where everything is already so different from my life in Baton Rouge. Still, how do I come to terms with the fact that my lover’s brothers turn furry and four legged whenever they feel like it? Plus, the Breauxs apparently live at DEFCON two.
The reason for the hostility emerges from the low-hanging brush. An enormous brindle wolf steps into the clear space and stops. The animal is even larger than the ones that attacked me earlier in the week. It has to be pushing two hundred pounds.
Luc curses. “I’m goin’ to kill him.”
“You know him?” You sure about that? How does he tell one wolf from another?
“That’s Cruz,” Luc growls. The Breaux wolf places itself between the intruder and the camp, growling. “He knows better than to come on out here without an invitation. I don’ piss all over his territory, and he returns the favor.”
God, I do not want to know if Luc means that literally or not.
“You can’t kill him,” I say instead, although I’m pretty certain Luc can. Aggression radiates off him.
“Maybe, if you don’ wan’ me killin’ him, you should trade me that week of his. I’ll take it. He can live.” Savage satisfaction fills his voice.
“No can do.”
“Then I’ll keep your request in mind and see what I can do.” Luc vaults over the porch, bare feet slamming into the bank at a run.
And… that’s a conversation killer. I’m not dressed for giving chase. When I finally rolled out of bed—and Luc let me go, laughing—I pulled on the first things I found in my suitcase. That leaves me standing on Luc’s porch sporting a fringed kimono, a tank top and cotton shorts. I’d planned on a weekend at a B&B—not a backwater bayou retreat.
“No killing,” I holler just in case Luc reconsiders his stance on killing Cruz.
The wolf hasn’t moved from the edge of the clearing. Is he expecting an engraved invitation? Is there an Emily Post book for werewolf etiquette? Naturally Luc ignores my demand and stalks toward the intruder.
“You better have a damned good reason for being here, Jones.”
Luc gets right up in the wolf’s face, close enough that his thighs practically slam into the wolf’s sides. The wolf bares its teeth, growling. Fuck, what is it with men and their testosterone? Out of options, I hurl my coffee mug at the pair. Stupid. I’m not done, and Luc doesn’t like being challenged. The mug falls short by yards, but the crash is satisfying.
“You got a point to make, shug?” Luc drawls, not turning around.
“Bring him here, you moron.” Clearly there’s no point in repeating my no killing manifesto.
Luc glares at the wolf. “You heard the lady. Shift,” he snaps.
And… Cruz shifts. If you asked me, I couldn’t describe how it happens. Just that the wolf’s fur melts and flows away, revealing bare skin. Lots and lots of very male, very naked skin. Sweet baby Jesus, but Cruz is a spectacular man. I’ve tried hard not to imagine what he looks like when he shucks his uniform, but now I know. Six-plus feet of cut Cajun. It’s a good day in the bayou.
Luc sighs, like somehow all that yummy nakedness is my fault. “Stop staring and get the man some pants.”
I debate reminding him that orders are off limits until sunset, but Luc looks like he’s been pushed far enough for the morning. I go inside, grab a pair of jeans from Luc’s wardrobe, and stalk back out. I throw the pants at Cruz, who catches them one-handed. Don’t look below the neck.
Nope. So much for my good intentions. The gleam in the man’s eyes says he knows I cheated too. But, good Lord, the man is hung. How am I not to notice?
“Pants are my limit. I’m not bringing you coffee,” I announce, dropping back into my seat.
“You wan’ explain why you’re out here?” Luc sits down next to me, his thigh crowding mine, his arm curved possessively around my shoulders. If I were a tree, a pissing contest would be next.
Cruz ignores Luc entirely as he pulls on the borrowed jeans. “How are you, boo?”
“I’m fine.” Really? He’s come out and started World War III just to ask me how I feel? What does he think I’ve been doing?
“You wan’ to kiss her hello too?”
“Don’ mind if I do.” Cruz strolls over and drops a kiss on my cheek. Then he leans against my chair and proceeds to give us both an update on the Breed. Unfortunately there aren’t too many new details. My law firm has received a new death threat on my behalf. Cruz has gotten a man inside the Baton Rouge pack, who is working on identifying the wolf who called the hit on me. But other than that… he has a whole lot of nothing.
Which begs the question of why he’s come out here.
Luc apparently comes to the same conclusion. “I’ve got a phone.”
“And I felt like seein’ how Gianna was doin’,” Cruz counters.
Well, shit. That’s blunt. Worse, an unexpected happiness beats through my veins. I like being sandwiched between the two of them, having them both here on the porch with me. The only thing better would be if the three of us had just come from the bedroom together.
“Fuck.” Luc looks between me and Cruz. “If you want him, take him.”
Has he developed mind-reader abilities? Are my thoughts that obvious?
“You mean it?” I hope my face isn’t lighting up like a kid in a candy shop at the possibility of having both of them with me in bed.
“Your body. Your bed.” I can’t tell what Luc’s thinking or how he really feels about possibly sharing my body with Cruz. It’s just a fantasy, I tell myself. Not necessarily anything more. If Luc is okay with it…
I look up at Cruz. “Are you in?”
CRUZ
Gianna doesn’t have to ask me twice. I swing her up into my arms and carry her inside. By the time I set her down on the bed, I realize my mistake. I was so focused on convincing Gianna to take a chance on me, that I didn’t consider the implications of hopping into bed with Luc Breaux. Christ. If fucking another Alpha’s mate is grounds for pack warfare, how about doing the male himself?
“This is about Gianna only,” I say gruffly. “Not you. Not me.”
Luc jerks his head in agreement. “No pack business in the bedroom.”
That settled, I consider my next move. Whatever the Breauxs get up to out here in the bayou—and I do not want to know—I’ve never done something like this before. Agreement or no agreement, I’m also not stage managing taking Gianna to bed. I’ll touch her. Luc can touch. She’ll react. That represents the sum total of my plans.
Gianna pushes up on one arm, the movement sending the fringed thing she wears sliding down her arm. A kind of wrap, I decide, like a robe but made out of a thin, blue gauze with bright pink flowers. Since I can see the skin of her arm through the translucent fabric, I like it. Of course, I’d like it even better if she were naked and wearing only that. She stares at me, pink cheeked. Desire—or embarrass
ment? Christ, as much as I like looking at her, touching would be even better.
“Guys first,” she announces. “Strip.”
Luc doesn’t hesitate. He just strips down. He’s not wearing much to begin with—jeans and a T-shirt. Hell, I have even less to lose since my entire wardrobe at the moment consists of a pair of borrowed pants. As buttons pop and pants hit the floor, I watch her, gauging her reaction. If she changes her mind, if we frighten her, I don’t want to push when I should pull back. I bet she hasn’t done this before either, which makes me feel better. We can be ménage virgins together.
She certainly doesn’t look scared or nervous. When I shuck my jeans, her eyes darken, her lips parting. Hello. She’s gorgeous and I have no idea what I did to deserve this invitation. I’ll make it good for her. Meeting Luc’s eyes, I read the same determination there.
“Your turn.” I reach for her shorts. She helps me get them off, revealing a lacy yellow thong. She likes her colors.
So do I. I run a finger down the center of her panties. “Off?”
“Off,” she agrees.
She lifts her butt to help me. Screw getting her shirt off. That’s Luc’s problem. I grab her hips and pull her toward the side of the bed. Sinking down on my knees, I push her wide with my shoulders and drink in the prettiest sight I’ve ever seen. Wet, slick folds. Soft, pink flesh. I lean forward and kiss the top of her mound.
Luc drops onto the bed, sliding behind her. He cups her breasts, gently squeezing the tips. She moans and leans back into his support. Good enough. I don’t really get off on watching Luc touch her, not when she’s spread out like a feast. I want to eat her up, lick her folds clean of her juices. My first kiss on the soft skin of her thigh is another fucking revelation. She wriggles and shivers, pressing into my touch like she can’t get enough.
I kiss my way higher.
Her scent lures me, has me curling my fingers into her hips to hold her mercilessly still for my touch. Higher, planting a kiss on the ticklish crease between her hip and her pussy.
Then… yeah… I’m in heaven. I open her up carefully with my fingers, drinking in her gasps as I kiss her. Savor the sweet taste of her. I fantasized about this, but the reality is so much better. This part of her is perfect too.
She likes what I’m doing. She might be shy about asking for two guys together, but now she’s got us in bed, she isn’t holding back. I love that about her. Once she decides to go for something, she really, really goes all in. I rim her small entrance with my tongue.
Having her stretched out between me and Luc is surreal. Luc caresses her breasts with his hands, taking her mouth in a long, hot kiss. I brush against Luc as I kiss Gianna again. Avoiding the other man isn’t possible. And it isn’t bad, just… different.
Gianna starts making those throaty moans I love so much as I tease her some more. Lick another lazy figure eight around her clit and down again. Luc gets her tank top off at some point, and our clothes are scattered across the bedroom floor like the white flag of sweet surrender.
I lift my head. “You wan’ to switch?”
“Don’t I get a vote?”
I pet her with my fingers while I wait, her silky tissues clinging to me as I penetrate her with a finger.
“If you behave yourself,” Luc says roughly. “Otherwise, we’re in charge, shug.”
Sounds like a no to me and I desperately need to be inside her now, so I climb up onto the bed, roll onto my side, and pull her backside up against my dick.
“Impatient?” She moans again when I penetrate her and I slow down. Tight and slick, she has the sweetest death grip on me. Oh, yeah. I’m not lasting long tonight.
GIANNA
I suck in a breath as Cruz stretches me, pushing deep and then deeper still. I wiggle, taking more of him, and he groans. Luc moves closer, sandwiching me between his body and Cruz’s. This close to them both, I can’t move. Can’t get away. Cruz’s fingers bracelet my wrists, holding me still when I’d take him harder, faster. He’s in charge here whether I like it or not.
And God, he makes me like it. My fantasies about having the two of them in my bed didn’t include this sense of wicked power. They’re here for me. Everything they do, they do for me. Cruz withdraws, drives back inside, the delicious sensations making me crazy.
“Luc?”
“Right here,” he snarls. “Don’ forget about me.”
As if I can. Each thrust Cruz makes pushes me back against Luc and the massive erection he’s sporting. Luc losing control is also better than any fantasy. He drags a hand down my ass, finding my rear opening. One big finger circles, presses. The cool shock of lubricant penetrating me is the only warning he gives. His thumb rubs against nerve endings, sending electric shocks of pleasure through me.
”I’m takin’ this part of you,” he growls, and I’m not entirely sure he’s asking. I whimper at the images of him tunneling into my ass, taking me there while Cruz has me from the front.
“Yes,” I agree.
The blunt tip of him pressing in is equally unforgiving. He’s so damned big, and I have nowhere to go. My body resists his invasion, trying to push him out.
“Hang onto me,” Cruz rumbles.
Yes.
Inch by inch, Luc pushes inside my ass. I grip Cruz’s shoulders, digging my nails into the smooth skin as Luc takes me inch by slow, wicked inch. The pleasure-pain is darker and hotter than the bite of the candle on my nipples and clit.
In. Deeper. Harder.
As he thrusts in, Cruz pulls back, changing the angle of his penetration to better match Luc’s. Oh God, yes. They slam into me together, and I cry out. Once. Twice. I lose myself in the hard dance, running my hands down Cruz’s spine and digging deep into his ass.
“Now,” Luc growls in my ear, reaching between us to find my clit. Cruz’s fingers tangle with his, and together they send me over the edge.
GIANNA
Luc drives me back to Baton Rouge to get some more things. Living out of a weekend bag for two weeks isn’t feasible. When we reach the drive to my house, everything looks the same. I fidget the seatbelt, trying to hide my nerves. I headed down to Port Leon to buy myself space from the attentions of the Breed, and that’s all.
A handful of nights, and now I’m not sure what I want anymore.
Cruz, Landry, and Dre pull in behind us, crowded into Cruz’s truck. Dear God, what do they think can happen? When I reach for the door, Luc stops me.
“You need to wait a minute, shug. Let me go in first.” He holds out his hand for my keys.
“I have a security service.” If the alarm is triggered, I receive a message and local police is called out. When he doesn’t move, just waits me out, I fish for my keys in my bag and slap them in his palm.
“You don’ go in until I’ve checked the place out.” He gets out of the truck and goes over to Cruz. The truck’s window cuts off their exchange, but Luc does plenty of talking. Cruz? Not so much.
Eventually Cruz gets out and moves toward me. He’s not in uniform, but he has deadly intent written all over his face as he discreetly palms a gun. Planting his back against my door—effectively trapping me inside the truck’s cab unless I decide to scramble for the driver-side door—he nods to Luc.
“Go. I got her.”
The babysitting doesn’t sit well, but I won’t do the stupid thing and insist on blazing inside my house if Luc believes there’s a possible threat. After seeing the Breed in action, caution seems prudent. Still, I roll the window down, not wanting the barrier between me and Cruz.
When I take a deep breath, I can smell him. Heat, male, and a clean, pine scent. His cologne? I’d have pegged him for a soap and water kind of a guy, but he smells good. Last night, I explored every inch of him with my hands and tongue. Took him deep inside my body. Somehow, now, he seems farther away than a few inches.
“Sorry,” I apologize awkwardly, not entirely sure what I regret.
He turns his head briefly. Did I think him an easy male? Because the
re’s nothing laid back or casual about the heat burning in his eyes.
“There’s nothin’ to be sorry about.” I get the feeling that’s a blanket statement, like he’s setting out the rules. “I wan’ you safe, boo.”
“I still think this is overkill.”
“You know what they say.” His gaze moves over the front of my house, assessing the bushes and sides as if he expects a full frontal assault. “Better safe than sorry. I’ve had more than a few dealings with the Breed.”
“Tell me.” In my legal capacity, I’ve had more than few encounters with gangbangers and their victims. Cruz may know something new however.
He exhales roughly, fingers flexing on his thighs. “A girl like you, you don’ need to know about that.”
“A girl like me?” Fuck it. I lean out the window, resting my hands on the rolled-down pane. Letting my fingers brush the back of his T-shirt and trail over his skin. “What does that mean?”
This is where he pulls the usual male crap about how I’m sweet, innocent, or otherwise unsullied and pure. The point where he tries to put me on some chilly pedestal and talks about how my perfection makes me too good for life’s more unpleasant facts. Bullshit.
“It means you’re a decent woman,” he says roughly. “Doing the right thing matters to you, and you’ll take a hit to make a point. The Breed? They don’ give a fuck about anything but themselves and makin’ cash. They run drugs and guns, but that’s not the worst of it.”
“I know all that,” I tell him. “I’ve prosecuted men for those crimes—and I’ve defended them when they’ve been accused of shit they didn’t do. I’ve got the details up here in my head.”
“You ever see how they treat women?” A neighbor’s cat stalks out of the holly bush by the front door. Cruz’s eyes track the animal like it could be packing. “You ever drop by one of their bars or their clubs?”
“Obviously not.”
“At best, they treat women like a commodity. You don’ wan’ to know some of the sick bets these guys make. They’d tear you apart, and not because you’re an attorney on their hit list or because hurting you would hurt Luc and me. Just because they could and because that’s what they do with females.”