by Renee Rose
And—oh lord—his cock still stands at attention for me. How is that even possible?
He tests the water temperature. I’m standing here, mute, the whole time. I must be in a daze from the orgasm—a satisfaction stupor.
He nudges me gently inside, then follows behind me. He picks up the bar of soap and rolls it between his hands, then strokes my body with it. His hands coast down my arms, up my sides, over my breasts.
The tenderness that was absent during sex stuns me now. He’s almost reverent—like he’s worshipping at the temple of my body or the altar of love.
No, not love.
I need to stop thinking that way. We’ve had incredible sex because we’re under enormous stress. Under normal circumstances, I never would get involved with someone from the organization.
But that’s not true, either. If I’d known what it was like to be taken hard by Charlie Dune, I would’ve been begging him for it every single meet up we had. I’m almost sorry now for all the missed opportunities.
Charlie turns me in the water, washes the crack of my ass, between my legs, down my thighs. He strokes me with reverence like he’s savoring the sensation of my skin, the water, the slide of the soap. When he rises, he wraps me in his arms, and we stand under the water.
“You’re still shaking, angel.”
I am. My body trembles from the sex, my legs still barely hold me up. But now, as the high of the orgasm washes away with the soap, reality sets back in.
“I’m afraid, Charlie.”
He smooths the wet tendrils of hair back from my face, brings his forehead right up to mine.
“I won’t let anything happen to you or your family. I promise you, that, Annabel.”
I believe him because Charlie Dune is a force of nature. Nothing could stop him from achieving a target.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “I can’t thank you enough. This is way more than what I did for you.”
He kisses me, lips moving over mine, sultry and soft. “We’re in this together now. No going back. I’m going to keep you safe. Okay?”
I nod mutely.
The water turns cold, and he turns it off and steps out first. His ass is a work of art—muscled buns leading down to thick, strong thighs. He wraps me in a towel and pulls me in for another kiss.
“Let’s get dressed, and we’ll talk strategy.”
I’m comforted by the word strategy. It’s something my analytical mind can get busy on besides the worry gnawing me apart.
* * *
Charlie
“You okay with doing this?” I ask as Annabel seats herself in front of the laptop and cracks her knuckles. She told me she thought of a way to hack the CIA that would be untraceable.
“Hacking our employer? We’re not going to hurt anything. If there’s a cover-up here, I wanna know.”
Her lower lip juts out a little. My brave, beautiful girl.
Except she’s not mine. I can’t have her, can’t keep her. I clear my throat.
“All right. Show me your father’s file.”
“Your wish is my command.” She quirks a pert little grin. “You really like giving orders, don’t you?”
“You have no idea,” I murmur, distracted by her fingers dancing over the keyboard, slender and graceful. If I told her to turn around and touch me instead, they’d feel so…
“Charlie?”
I search my memory for the echo of what she just said. “No, I haven’t had much dealing with Agent Tentrite.” I pace to the window and look out, getting some distance between us. It doesn’t work. Her sweet scent teases my nose until I can envision her stretched out on the bed. The rapid clicks on the keyboard remind me again of her small hands caressing my—Damn, I’m used to being attracted to my lovely, aloof handler, but this is beyond attraction. I’m obsessed. I fear it has too much to do with the monster I’m becoming.
“All this happened after I made inquiries about my father. There’s a bunch of redacted data in his file. I’ve been trying to hack it with a higher-level clearance, but—” Her voice cuts off abruptly.
“What?” I stride to her side. “What is it?”
“It’s not here.”
“You sure? Maybe they moved it.”
“No, I’m in the code. The file is here, but the info... it’s gone.”
I curse.
“Wiped. All of it.”
“Who did it, can you tell?”
“No, but I’m about to find out.” Her voice hardens.
I stay at her side will she probes. Her brows knit, and her lips move a little as she focuses on the screen. The minutes stretch, but I don’t move, don’t speak, don’t break her concentration. After we showered she put on a light t-shirt, loose enough so if I edge forward I can see straight down the collar to the lovely slope of her—
Cursing myself, I make my eyes fix on the pine paneling of the cabin wall. My cock is at attention, fighting to punch out of my pants. This is ridiculous. I’ve never been this out of control. But now I’m a prisoner of my own... baser nature.
In any case, it’s a good thing I never slept with Annabel before now. I’d be absolutely useless in the field.
“Got ya,” Annabel whispers in satisfaction.
“Who?” I bend over her, resisting the urge to nuzzle her hair. The screen is a mess of glowing code.
“Last access was early this morning. Zero three hundred hours.” She curses. “I should’ve hacked it last night.”
“It’s all right. You were tired.” I squeeze her shoulder. “We had no way of knowing someone was going to log in to your dad’s file at three in the morning.”
“The user signed in and spent a few minutes in here before wiping it,” Annabel continues, her voice a bit shaky. This isn’t just another mission for her. This is personal. “But they couldn’t completely delete the file with their access clearance. I traced the user profile to a dud email account. It’s a fake name, but I got the IP address and—” she rattles off a bunch of technical steps that leaves my head spinning.
“English please.”
“Sorry.” She gives a wan smile. “I forget you don’t speak nerd.”
“You speak it well enough for the both of us. Who wiped the file, Annabel?”
She turns a little pale but says in a clear, strong voice, “Agent Tentrite.”
* * *
Annabel
“This is just like when we were teenagers.” I grin up at Sarah, who scowls because I moved. She has a pair of scissors in one hand and a lock of my hair in the other, and she’s thinning the edges like a professional hairstylist.
I’ve bleached my hair to a respectable housewife blond, and now, Sarah’s giving me a shoulder-length layered ‘do. “Remember when you shaved the side of my head and dyed the bangs purple?”
Sarah laughs. “We were so sure mom would freak out, but she didn’t say a word.”
“Yeah, I think she actually got the last laugh on that one.”
We both sober, grief from our mother’s death still present after two years.
My sister sifts her fingers through my hair. “This is pretty extreme.”
“You don’t think it looks good?”
“No... it’s just hard to think of my baby sister dyeing her hair and going undercover.”
“It’s not that big a deal,” I say, even though my stomach is flipping at what Charlie and I are about to do. “I’ll be fine.”
She sighs. “Don’t lie to me. I know it’s going to be dangerous. You won’t even tell me what it is.”
“That’s for your protection. Hey,” I grab her hand and squeeze. “I’m not lying. I’m going to be careful. Besides, Charlie will be with me. Do you really think he’d let something happen to me?”
Biting her lip, she shakes her head. Already she looks less worried. There’s a bit of Charlie hero worship reflected in her eyes.
“So, tell me,” Sarah says in a low voice even though we’re in the bathroom, and Grady’s watching The Incredibles out in the
living room. “Did you two have a quickie while we were out for our walk this morning?”
I smile at her in the mirror and waggle my eyebrows. “It wasn’t that quick.”
She grins back. “It’s about time you—”
“Shut up.”
She and I both know my dating life is non-existent. My single-parent sister does way better in that department which doesn’t say much.
“He’s hot.”
I shift in my chair, still sore in all the right places from the rough way he took me. “Yeah, definitely.”
“So? Is it forbidden?”
“Handler-field agent relationships? I don’t know. Probably. Even if it’s not, it’s highly impractical.”
“Because they travel around a lot? Live in high danger?” Sarah uses a star-struck tone like we’re talking about a Mission Impossible character and not the very real, very sexy Charlie Dune who hopefully can’t hear us from the kitchen where he’s eating his eighth meal of the day while he makes us fake IDs. He even printed credit cards with our new names. I had no idea such a thing was possible, and I’ve worked at the agency for ten years.
“I mean, actually, it’s probably not forbidden for the field agent. They’re allowed to pretty much do anything they want, so long as they complete their missions. But I might be reprimanded. I don’t know.”
Sarah’s lips twist into a knowing grin. “Worth it?”
“So, worth it.” I want to tell her all about it—she is my sister, after all—but the thought of Charlie overhearing is too embarrassing. I just make my eyes really round in the mirror and nod my head slowly like I’m in awe.
Sarah smothers a giggle. “So, you’re going as Mr. and Mrs. What-was it?”
“Barnard. Brett and Melinda.”
“Mindy Barnard,” Sarah muses as she bends her knees to get eye level with me and cuts my bangs. “It has a cute ring. When’s your birthday?”
“March 13th, 1986.”
“Your sign?”
“Um... Pisces. No one is going to ask me that. I’m not using a fake ID to get into a bar.”
Sarah shrugs. “You never know. Better safe than sorry.”
I roll my eyes, but secretly I’m glad Sarah’s enjoying this and not getting overly freaked out.
Charlie appears in the doorway. His eyes lock onto mine, and I swear they turn ice blue again. His nostrils flare. “Fuck,” he says, and shakes his head like a dog shaking off water.
“What?”
“You look…”
I tug my hair out of Sarah’s grasp. “It’s horrible, isn’t it?”
“No.” His voice sounds strangled. “I loved the red, but…” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “You look good. Really good.”
I cock my head to the side. “You got a thing for blondes?”
“No, I—” He stops. “Not until now, I didn’t,” he mutters as he literally walks backward, his eyes still glued to mine.
Finally, with another shake of his head, he hits the kitchen.
5
Charlie
Goddamn.
It nearly killed me to tell Annabel she had to cut and dye her hair. Especially since I haven’t fulfilled my fantasy yet of riding her from behind with a fistful of that dark auburn thickness to hang onto.
But she looks absolutely angelic as a blonde. The deep red played up her personality—she rocked with the large-framed glasses and the dark lipstick. Now she looks like the girl next door. And damn if I don’t want to tie her to the bed and fuck her until she weeps for mercy.
I bang around in the kitchen, trying to satisfy my lust with food. I can’t seem to eat enough.
After a full spaghetti dinner, I’m still hungry for red meat. I’ve already eaten the cans of chili in the cupboards. I pull out a container of spaghetti sauce and eat it straight out of the jar. And let me tell you—it has pathetically few chunks of meat for what’s advertised.
I can’t seem to eat down the heat though. Every day the moon waxes, and I still don’t know what will happen when it’s full.
I’m restless as hell. I want to be outside, running—hunting.
Either that or I need to be pounding into my lovely handler again. Making her scream my name until all hours of the morning.
But that’s not possible.
I rinse the spaghetti jar out and drop my spoon in the sink. “I’m going to go scout around outside,” I mutter to Annabel who emerged from the bathroom with her new look. “Don’t wait up for me.”
“Wait—what? Is that code for something? Where are you really going?”
Damn perceptive agents and their detective skills.
I take off my shirt and watch her eyes track my pecs. “It means I’m going for a run. We’ve been cooped up here all day, and I won’t be able to sleep unless I get some exercise.”
“In the dark? Never mind. You probably can see in the dark, too, right?”
If only she knew.
I step outside and strip out of the rest of my clothes behind the cabin. I don’t even have to will myself to shift—it’s like it happens without me even asking. Which makes me wonder if I’d have been able to stop it if I wanted to.
But thoughts are lost as I take off, loping across the soft pine-scented earth, nose to the ground, looking for a scent to follow.
Time slips. Distance and direction are irrelevant. I find a scent that sends thrills coursing through my furry body and take off.
An animal. Deer.
Excitement shudders through me even as my brain screams, Don’t kill Bambi.
Or Bambi’s mother. Whatever.
Too late. I lunge. Attack. Rip out its throat.
The rest is too disgusting to relate.
I’m a goddamn monster.
I lose track of time. Of location. Of identity.
The next thing I know, I’m furious, trying to get to something that’s mine.
Someone or something is keeping me out.
A closed door.
I snarl, throw my body against the door. The cabin shudders under my weight.
A female’s scream tickles a place in my brain. Fear, it signals fear.
But that’s not right. Because that’s my female inside.
Mine.
And I can’t... get... in... to claim her.
A sound scrapes nearby—a window cracking. Her scent grows stronger.
Then another sound that tickles my brain—the cocking of a gun.
The monster recedes, and I realize with horror where I am. What I’m doing.
But before I can leave, Annabel fires.
My own whine pierces the air, and I’m leaping away before my brain gives the command.
Trees blur around me as white-hot pain sizzles in my flank.
Then I’m on the ground. Naked.
A man again.
Jesus, fuck. I almost killed them.
I tried to break into the cabin where Annabel, Sarah, and Grady were.
What would’ve happened if I’d succeeded?
A shudder runs through me.
I don’t know how long I lie on the ground, but when I finally drag myself to my feet, I find the bullet wound isn’t even bleeding anymore. A lump of cold metal appears to be right at the surface. I squeeze the edges of the wound between two fingers, and the bullet pops out.
Huh.
So, healing is a wolf superpower. I rub my forehead as I trudge back in the direction of the cabin. Who knows how far I’ve run away from it.
If Annabel and her sister didn’t still need me, I’d keep right on running, away from civilization and anywhere else I’d do harm.
I’m going to have to figure out a way to lock myself up at night. Keep far away from people.
And I’d better get this damn mission wrapped up before the moon is full. I need to get the hell away from Annabel. Forever.
I’m a danger to her.
I just thank God she knows her way around a pistol. If I threaten her again, she can take me down.
Pe
rmanently.
* * *
Annabel
I grip the gun with shaking fingers. The CIA couldn’t send a wolf to get me. This isn’t a sci-fi film. It was just some enormous, rabid wolf that must’ve smelled food inside and wanted in.
Still, my heart won’t stop thumping against my ribs, the sound of the gunfire and the wolf’s yelp echoing in my ears.
And Charlie’s still out there.
But he’d know what to do. He’s that kind of guy. He’ll have a weapon on him, or he’ll make one out of a branch or rock. He’s a trained assassin, for God’s sake. I don’t need to worry about him.
As if I could stop though.
Sarah finally gets Grady to sleep, and I’m starting to freak out about Charlie’s long absence and the giant rabid wolf. I pick up the gun.
“Maybe I should go out there.”
“Are you crazy?” Sarah snaps. “That’s how every movie character gets killed.”
“What if Charlie needs help?”
“Then we’d hear something. Right now, I don’t hear anything—man or wolf. So, just—”
The door swings open to reveal Charlie’s figure, head bent to investigate the deep gauges in the door from the wolf’s claws.
“Oh thank God!” I rush for him.
He stiffens, and I try to put on the brakes. I’m probably acting too much like a girlfriend as if we have a relationship. Worrying for his safety probably crossed all kinds of boundaries with him.
I draw up short in front of him, and he deftly relieves me of the gun that’s still in my hand.
“What’s going on?”
“Did you hear the gunfire?”
Charlie’s brows slam down. He shuts the door and locks it.
“What gunfire?” he barks.
“A giant, rabid wolf was trying to get in the cabin. That’s what you see there on the door. I shot him, but he’s probably still out there. I was afraid he’d attack you.”
Charlie’s mouth pulls down in a grim line. “Never worry about me. Are you three safe?”
When I nod, he steps forward. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you.”