by Desiree Holt
“And they accepted you,” she guessed.
“All of us. That was twelve years ago.” He closed his eyes. “My third tour was up a little bit before I came here.”
“And your teammates who were killed, were they your friends from Montana?”
“Some of them. But some made it out, like me.”
Jordan’s heart ached for what this man had been through. She put her head on his shoulder and nestled against him. “Maybe if you get in touch with them, it would help you work through your nightmares.”
“To tell you the truth, while I listened to you, I made up my mind to get hold of them. But for a different reason.”
Jordan studied his face, trying to read his expression. “What reason— Oh. No, no, no.” She shook her head with vehemence. “I won’t let you endanger yourself or your friends on my behalf. If I think Charles has found me, I’ll just look for another place to lose myself.”
Stone threaded his fingers in her hair, anchoring her head, and took her mouth in a kiss at first soft then hungry then almost bruising. He thrust his tongue inside her mouth and licked every bit of her inner flesh, even the inside of her lips before teasing her tongue to dance with his. At the moment when she was sure neither of them could breathe, he lifted his head and looked straight into her eyes. The amber in his was warm and intense.
“I think you’re going to save my soul, Jordan. It’s up to me to save your body.” He lifted her from his lap and set her on the couch then he dug his cell phone out of his duffel and punched in a number.
“It’s me. Yeah. I have one last mission for us.”
* * *
They had driven to Missoula, Montana, to meet up just outside the small village where her former pack lived among humans. Stone’s friends had greeted her with warmth but with their battle faces on. Nobody messes with us or ours, seemed to be the message they sent. The hardest thing for her to do was contact her parents, but Stone had it all figured out. He drove her to their house, leaving the others at a coffee shop while they put things in motion.
The meeting was very emotional. Her parents were stunned to see her. Charles had told them she was dead. They alternated between being ecstatic to see her and angry she had left the way she did.
“I’m so sorry,” she kept repeating. “But I had to get away from him.”
“He’s been very angry,” her father kept repeating. “Maybe you should go before he sees you.”
“We don’t want you hurt,” her mother said.
“And I don’t want him to take it out on you,” she told them. “I’m going to let him know I’m back, and try to resolve this once and for all.”
Fear shadowed her mother’s face. “W-what are you going to do?”
“You’re better off not knowing,” Allison told her. “When our…meeting is finished, I’ll be back to tell you about it.”
When Charles opened the door to his house, he stared at her in shock.
“Where the hell have you been? You caused me no end of embarrassment. I see I’ll have to teach you a lesson.”
Jordan would have been terrified at the look of insane rage in his eyes if not for Stone beside her. She dug deep for at least a semblance of calm.
“I’m very sorry, Charles. You’re right. I should never have run off.” She gestured at Stone. “But I was taken in by some shifters and told them about you and the pack. They want to meet you and join the pack.”
His features twisted into a sneer. “What makes you think I’d want anything to do with someone you brought to me? Is this a gift to try and avoid your punishment?”
Stone stepped forward. “We bring many skills that would be useful to you, and we can also help you defend the pack whenever necessary. We are fighters.”
He glared at Stone while he considered what he’d said.
“How will I know this?”
“We’d like to show you, if you’ll come with us.”
Charles frowned. “Come where?”
“They’re waiting just at the edge of town, in the woods. They didn’t want to show up until they knew they’d be welcome.”
An insane light glowed in Charles’s eyes. Jordan could almost see the wheels turning as he considered the advantage of having more men to do his vicious bidding. At first, he objected, insisting they come to him, but his unsatisfied rage at her escape and his obsessive desire to possess her overrode everything else.
“All right,” he said at last. “Let’s go.”
“Are you coming by yourself?” Jordan knew he almost never went anywhere without his bodyguards.
“Of course.” He licked his lips. “I guarantee you I can deal with the whole group myself.” He looked at Jordan. “That way, when I overpower them, you will understand the full extent of my control and won’t ever try to leave again.”
Getting him to ride with them was another matter, but, at last, it was solved and they were on their way. When they passed the outskirts of the village and drove into the forested area, Charles became angry and demanded they take him back, but by then it was too late. Stone drove to the spot they’d picked, on an old logging road, and stropped the car.
The others were waiting in a small clearing. Stone introduced them to Charles.
“So you want to join my pack? But you’ve been sheltering Jordan. I think we must deal with that first.”
Jordan had seen Charles take on more than one wolf at a time and viciously destroy them. That same unholy light glowed in his eyes. For a moment, fear raced through her. She couldn’t let Stone and his friends be destroyed like that, torn limb from limb by a crazed shifter who could fight on multiple fronts at the same time. She’d told them how cruel he was. Hadn’t they listened?
“We know what we’re doing,” Stone assured her.
“But he is so vicious. He’s mad, insane. I’ve seen him kill with one bite to the jugular.”
“Not to worry.” He gave her a quick hug and a hard kiss. “Just be sure to stay in the car.”
Jordan couldn’t help the tension gripping her. What if she’d made a mistake accepting their help? She didn’t want their blood on her hands.
But Stone and his friends knew what to do. In moments, they were all out of the vehicles and facing each other in a small clearing.
Jordan’s heart was pounding. Stone had told her to stay in the car but this was for her, so she needed to be there for them. Stepping to the far side of Stone’s vehicle, she stripped off her clothes and, in seconds, had shifted to her white wolf.
When she padded around to see the clearing again, she stopped, frozen, as five gray-and-black wolves, growls rumbling in their throats, circled Charles, now shifted into his wolf body. He was black, like Stone, but there the resemblance ended. Stone emanated strength and purpose, while insanity vibrated in the air around Charles.
Stone moved into the center where he faced Charles head-on, the two of them growling and snapping at each other. Charles made a move toward Stone’s throat, but Stone sidestepped him, and the battle was on. Charles was driven by rage, Stone by cold determination. Stone’s friends watched, ready to back him up at a moment’s notice.
Jordan stood outside the circle, watching. She hoped they remembered everything she’d told them about him, how she’d seen him kill people who had disobeyed or displeased him.
Charles gave another vicious growl and leaped forward, grabbing Stone with his paws and aiming for his throat with his fangs. The other wolves moved in, fangs bared, ready to attack Charles, but Stone freed himself and took two steps back.
Charles hurled himself at one of the others, roaring, trying to rake his paws against first one then the other. But he was unprepared for shifters who had gone to war and learned every kind of attack. They evaded him with ease, knowing they were just there as backup for Stone. Charles made a weird sound and leaped for Stone again.
But Stone was ready. Roaring, the two wolves rolled on the ground, fangs bared, claws ripping at pelts. There was so much blood everywhere th
at Jordan didn’t see how either of them could survive. She wanted to cry at the thought that Stone might be killed because of her. But, as she readied to leap into the battle herself, the others dove into the circle and dragged Charles away from Stone.
Charles backed up, his coat matted with blood but a crazed light glowed in his eyes, saliva dripping from his mouth. The sound from his throat was low and guttural.
Stone turned his head to where Jordan stood, dipped it once as if to say I remember what you said, then signaled the others to back off. He gathered himself, the muscles in his powerful haunches bunching, and attacked again. This time there was no need for help. Charles’s anger overrode his ability to fight with cold precision, and it was over in seconds. He lay dead on the ground, covered in blood, throat slashed, and jugular torn. Stone and his friends stood in a circle around him, watching, until, in death, the body shifted back to its human form, utterly destroyed.
When they had all returned to their human forms, Stone turned to Jordan. “You need to stop by and see your parents and let them know what happened. And find out who to notify so the pack can meet and a new alpha can emerge. Do you know if there is someone in line?”
“Yes. They’ll get in touch with him.”
“Better tell them to send someone to pick up the trash, too,” one of Stone’s friends said.
Jordan wanted to throw herself into Stone’s arms, but she also didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his friends. He solved the problem for her by pulling her into his arms and giving her a kiss that scorched the soles of her feet.
“What now?” She drew in a deep breath and let it out.
“Now, I thank my friends for helping then we take them all out for dinner and figure out how to stay connected.”
“Connected?”
“Yes.” He dipped his head. “I think it’s time I stopped separating myself from people and got on with life.”
Without me?
As if he could hear her, he smiled, cupped her cheeks, and kissed her forehead.
“With you.”
Her heart stuttered. “Are you sure?”
“I know it for a fact.”
“How did you find out?”
He grinned. “I learned it in a dream.” He took her hand in his. “Let’s go home so I can show my mate just how important she is to me. And we can start work on forever.”
About the Author
Known to the world as the oldest author of erotic romance, Desiree Holt proves every day that she is more than the sum of her years. She is a winner of the EPIC E-Book Award, an Authors After Dark Author of the Year and winner of the Holt Medallion. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The Wall Street Journal, The London Daily Mail and numerous other national and international publications. She enjoys football and reading and her three cats, who are her constant writing companions.
desireeholtauthor
www.desireeholt.com
Masquerade
A.J. Bennett
Sweet, gorgeous Sara is a neglected housewife married to a hot NFL quarterback known for his philandering ways. On the night she decides to play the field herself, she discovers the shocking, supernatural secret behind why her husband disappears at night – and it has nothing to do with other women.
Chapter 1
Gripping the cool, brass door handle, Sara sucked in a deep breath attempting to center herself. Exhaustion settled over every inch of her body and mind. It’d been such a long day, she’d spent all morning and afternoon picking up trash for a local fundraiser. Harder than you’d think, since they spent most of the time cleaning steep hiking trails at a local state park. After that she had to attend a formal dinner to help raise money for one of the many charities she and her husband supported.
As she pushed through the doorway, Sara wondered absently if her husband would be home for once. Probably not. More than likely he was out fucking his latest conquest. Being married to a professional athlete was not all it was cracked up to be. Why she was still married to the asshole was beyond her.
A quick glance down confirmed her suspicion. His shoes were not in their place. Adam’s OCD always had to have everything in its proper place. Yet another annoying flaw of his. There’d been a time when she loved everything about him, he could do no wrong. If only they could go back to those early days.
He’d been her only love. How sad is that? Oh, there had been boys in high school, but they never went further than a few dates, ending in slobbering kisses. She’d meet Adam her freshman year at college, he was in her first class. She’d been so nervous to start school, but the moment she locked eyes with him she’d known her life was about to change.
They’d been married for a little over seven years. Adam’s affairs had been going on and off the whole time, probably before they were married. That along with his temper, Sara absently rubbed her arm, caused her to stay as busy as possible, just to avoid being around him. Out of sight out of mind, or something like that.
The worst part? Adam thought he was slick. He believed she was clueless to his affairs. Right. Everyone had to know about his affairs. She’d overheard the other wives talking about their marriage. It was humiliating.
Just thinking about it pissed her off. She confronted him once, but he came up with a plausible excuse and she never bothered again. It had gotten to the point that she thought of their marriage as a marriage of convenience. He kept her in the lap of luxury, and he did whatever the hell he wanted.
She’d remained faithful the whole time. Not that it didn’t cross her mind. She just never had the guts to go through with it. Adam could justify his affairs, but if she ever touched another man, he’d flip. Double standard? Of course.
With a sigh, she tossed her coat over a chair before walking over to the bar to pour herself a drink. Scotch on the rocks. She downed it and poured another, swirling the ice around as she took in her immaculate house. Mansion really. Way too big for two people. They’d tried for years to have kids, yet it wasn’t meant to be. Of course Adam refused to adopt, he only wanted his genetics. Bastard. He probably had children spread all around the globe that she was clueless about. Her head throbbed.
The empty house left her feeling lonely as usual. Sara tilted her head back enjoying the burn of the thick, amber liquid. Smiling to herself, she left the glass on the counter. Might as well give him something to be annoyed about. Not that he had to pick up his finger to clean a damn thing, servants would scurry inside before the sun rose. They tiptoed around him as much as she did. Poor women.
Lightly tracing her hand up the banister, Sara walked up the long winding staircase.
Before she even made it to her room she began unbuttoning her dress, anxious to be free of it. The clothes felt like a prison uniform. In reality, it was a short fitted navy Armani dress with a cardigan. Not too short of course, she wouldn’t want people to call her a slut.
Tossing the clothes on the floor, she stared at herself in the mirror. Almost thirty years old. She ran her hands down her flat stomach and turned to the side to check out her ass—which was still firm thanks to Pilates. Reaching up, she took out the pins and let her long auburn hair fall to her shoulders. She’d maintained her looks throughout the years, mostly out of vanity, but there was also pressure amongst the wives to remain picture perfect.
Too bad Adam didn’t seem to notice. She couldn’t even recall the last time they’d been intimate. But as long as she showed up by his side to his team dinners he was happy—happy enough.
Naked, Sara padded across the plush carpet to the massive bathroom. Perhaps a bath would ease the tension of the day. She poured a lavender oil into the steaming hot water hoping it would help her sleep. Slowly, Sara eased her body into the sunken tub. Nearly groaning, she leaned back, closing her eyes as she thought about her life.
At one point she’d really loved Adam. From the outside looking in they’d always been the perfect couple. He was the golden boy and she
was the girl next door. They were going to rule the world together, raise a large family. Nothing turned out quite like they had planned.
Now they could barely stand to be in the same room together.
The cool water touched her nose. Sara’s eyes snapped open. She hadn’t even realized she’d dozed off.
Laughing, she stood, toweled off, rubbed lotion all over her body and crawled into bed. Before she knew it, morning light was streaming through the windows. Flopping over, she stared at the other side of the bed. It was empty. That bastard didn’t even bother coming home last night.
Maybe she should divorce him. They’d been married long enough that he’d have to give her a hefty alimony check. She could run away to an island and have affairs with tourists. That brought a smile to her face. Of course she would do no such thing. Divorce was frowned upon in their circles. Her family would disown her. They may be her adoptive family, but they’d set high standards for her to follow. No, she’d made her choice. Now she had to live with it. Till death do they part.
Once downstairs Sara turned on the coffee and poured herself a bowl of cereal. She sat in silence, each bite loud in the empty house. Maybe she should get a dog. That way she would at least have someone to talk to.
Taking another bite, Sara planned the rest of her day. First the gym, then head over to the hospital to volunteer. Hopefully she could have lunch with Anna. They were an odd pair, the two of them. They really had nothing in common. Anna was a hip younger nurse, single, outgoing and adventurous. Sara was older, married and conservative. Yet, somehow they became great friends. Anna was Sara’s only true friend. Oh, she had many acquaintances, plus the other wives from the team, but they were catty and fake. It was nice to have someone outside of her sphere, someone she could trust.