by Anne Marsh
Instead of letting Landry tumble onto his ass on the floor, she led him carefully over to the big bed filling up a corner of the room. As soon as she released him, Landry went down for the count.
“So,” Dre said. “Thanks.” Turning, he made to limp away.
To his surprise, she reached out and snagged his wrist.
“You should lay down too,” she said. “You don’t look as bad as Landry, but I’m thinking you don’t feel a hundred percent, either.”
Not knowing what to say, he said nothing. Just enjoyed each soft brush of her fingers against his skin as she pulled off his clothes, folding each piece neatly. T-shirt first, then her fingers skimming his abdomen, making the muscles jump, as she found the buttons on his fly and undid them. His jeans hit his knees and she pushed him down onto the bed beside Landry and slid the denim away.
She dropped one quick, sweet kiss on his forehead and then she was tucking him in, following him down. She curled around him protectively, tenderly, and, Christ, he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.
Chapter Eleven
The chicory scent of hot coffee and beignets woke Mary Jane up. Or maybe it was the sharp, no-nonsense rap on the houseboat’s front door. The way the door jumped in its frame, the man knocking was clean out of patience.
By the time she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Dre and Landry had already rolled out of bed and pulled on clean clothes. Ten minutes later, she had a cup of that coffee and a front-row seat for a meet-and-greet she didn’t want any part of. Rafer and Jackson Breaux were damned scary.
“They really all your brothers?” She asked the question sotto voce. Unfortunately, the small smile tugging at Rafer’s mouth said he’d heard. Must be that damned wolf hearing.
Rafer Breaux was dark and rough, although there was a look in his eyes that said he wasn’t real interested in her because he’d already given his heart away to another woman. That worked for her. Whoever the male’s mate was, she was welcome to him. Rafer looked barely half-civilized, a warrior and a fighter first, more comfortable with blades than words.
He fit in with the rest of them.
Jackson, the baby brother, was an easier male to deal with even if he was still a gorgeous, Cajun bear of a man. He was almost as dark and broad-shouldered as the other three, and looking at him was plenty enjoyable, but that zing of attraction she got when she caught sight of Dre and Landry was missing.
Landry smiled and refilled her coffee cup. “Dre and I, we shared the same dam. Famille isn’t always about blood, though, sha. Luc found us early on, and some things just fit.” He shrugged, an easy, powerful roll of his shoulders. “We fit as a Pack. Luc’s our Alpha.”
“You all think that this Riley Jones is a mate for our Dag?” Concern and hope laced Rafer’s voice, and Mary Jane’s stomach twisted. God. Riley. She needed her friend back now.
“Sure do.” Landry dropped onto the bench beside her, his hip brushing hers as he squeezed into the too-small space.
Rafer nodded. “That would be good.”
For Dag, maybe. Mary Jane had a hunch Riley might have a different opinion.
“You’re looking for her, too, right?” No way would one tracker be enough. She wanted an entire army out there combing the bayou for Riley.
“Absolutely,” Dre promised her. “Dag’s out there now.”
She frowned. “Why can’t you all go?”
His big hand sifted through her hair, tugging gently as his fingers tangled in the strands. She wanted to moan, to sink into his touch, but they were on the deck of his damned houseboat, surrounded by his brothers. The pads of his fingers found her scalp and rubbed. Bliss. Her tension eased with each firm circle he drew against her.
Her eyes closed, and she melted against him. No. She forced herself away from him because, damn, he was dangerous. His rough chuckle undid her further.
“Ah, sha.” He gathered her closer with one arm until he’d closed the space between them, pulling her into his side until her thigh curled over his. Amusement filled his brothers’ glances—amusement and sensual awareness. She pressed instinctively closer to Dre, unsure of what to do with all that male hunger.
Surely they weren’t expecting...well, she didn’t know what they expected from her, but she wasn’t misreading the erotic hunger on the faces watching her. She got the impression that if she gave them a sign, they’d all come over and join her. God, that ought to be enough to send her running back to her boat, but beneath the frisson of fear was another emotion. A sensual curiosity. Not today, but someday...
“Dial it back,” Dre bit out, eying Jackson. One hand stroked possessively, comfortingly, down her back. The other found her scalp again, guiding her cheek against his chest and the reassuringly solid rhythm of his heartbeat.
If anyone could help Riley, these men could. They were hunters and predators, waiting, all coiled tension, for precisely the right minute to strike. The houseboat rocked, wake wash hitting the sides as a motor launch came up the bayou. She tensed, lifting her head.
“Cavalry’s comin’,” Dre murmured.
Landry pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with a hotly possessive kiss. At first she stiffened—what would the rest of his Pack think?—but then she got lost in the heated crawl of his mouth over hers. Dre pushed to his feet, wrapping his arms around her as well. Just the three of them. Perfect.
The staccato punch of booted feet hitting the deck broke the spell. Shit. Luc made the others look like lap dogs. Hard-faced and broad-shouldered, the take-no-shit look on his puss had the others nodding and backing up a step. She’d seen these men take on vamps, fight ruthlessly, so if this man made them retreat even so much as an inch, he was no one she wanted to mess with. Or share a deck with.
His gaze slid over her and landed on Dre and Landry. “We got us a problem.”
The words hung in the air between them. Dre gently let go of her, one hand urging her back down onto her seat.
The two men locked gazes. She could smell the tension filling up the bayou air, could smell the other man like he was a bottle of perfume cracked open on a sales counter. Unlike Dre’s scent, Luc didn’t have her hormones doing happy handstands. She didn’t want anywhere near him, because frankly he scared the piss right out of her.
She didn’t want him interested in her.
She didn’t want him anywhere near her.
Ever.
“Alpha,” Dre growled, exposing his neck before backing off. “Luc.”
When Luc didn’t immediately respond, Dre tipped his head back and howled, a long, low thread of sound that demanded look at me. She’d never believed in the supernatural and never wanted to. She’d wanted dreams, not nightmares. Yet there was no denying what she’d seen.
This was a whole other world.
“Stay,” Dre ordered, as if he sensed the primal need to flee rising up in her.
She didn’t like the order but she wasn't stupid, either. She’d make it off the couch, but she wouldn’t make it off the deck, let alone back to the Bayou Sweetie.
Dre moved in front of her, putting his body between hers and the Alpha.
“This is our mate.” His blunt words didn't so much as make a dent on the Alpha’s implacable face.
The Alpha steepled his fingers with deceptive care, like he was working out a crossword. “Did she choose?”
Dre’s stance was all challenge. “I’m keeping her.”
Landry surged to his feet. “We both are.”
Before she could blink, Luc lunged, knocking Dre down in a brutal hit. The hard slam of Dre’s body going down rocked the room. She could feel the impact from the sofa where he’d parked her.
Not finished with his smack down, Luc growled. His mouth opened in snarl, a low, harsh noise tearing from his throat as his hands slammed into the other man’s shoulders and knocked Dre back down when he twisted up off the floor. Dre’s mouth locked in a rictus of a snarl as well. Teeth bared, Dre brought his hands up, holding off his Alpha. L
uc shoved a second time, and Dre flew backwards, head slamming against the floor.
The next few minutes were a blur of no-holds-barred hits and animalistic growls. Arms and legs wrapped around each other, the two men grappled, fighting to pin each other down. Grunts and the raw sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled up the tense silence. Teeth flashed. Men snarled in a blur of arms and legs as they wrestled.
Mary Jane could smell the aggression and the need to dominate rolling off the pair of them. Luc was all cold piss and anger as he methodically beat down Dre. Worse, Dre wasn’t pushing back hard, and that made no sense at all. None of this did. When she tried to move away, however, someone curled a large hand around the back of her neck, forcing her to stay put. That heavy weight kept her where she didn’t want to be, front and center in a war zone.
And then, as suddenly as the fight had begun, it was over. Dre hooked a leg through Luc’s, flipping the other man. Finally on top, he stared down at his Alpha, breathing hard, but his face was as cold and emotionless as when he’d gone for the vamp on the bank yesterday. There was no mistaking him for anything other than a killer.
To her surprise, though, he rolled off and dropped to his knees, offering his throat to Luc. Luc didn’t hesitate, either, wrapping a hard arm around that throat and yanking Dre’s head back and down to the floor.
“You fight me and then you cede?” The raw chuckle eased from the other man.
“Yeah.” Dre didn’t move. “I still say I’m keepin’ her. What do you say?”
Luc released his chokehold but didn't let up on the full-body press. “You keep her only if she’s agreein’.”
“Agreed.” Dre stared at her, and even with the room between them, that stare burned. “I’m all over that.”
“Right.” The Alpha nuzzled Dre’s neck, his hand ruffling his hair. “Christ, you’re goin’ to kill me one of these nights.” He sprawled on his back for a moment, then got stiff-legged to his feet and turned towards her.
Oh God. She backed up when he came at her, but he stopped short of getting in her face. Just stood there, toe-to-toe with her, looking down at her for a long moment. His hand came up, and reflexively she closed her eyes. Too many memories swamped her, the old fear beating a fierce, painful rhythm in her chest.
He dropped down beside her, and she sucked in air frantically. Too close. Too big. Too angry. What did he want from her?
His hands wrapped around hers, his thumbs rubbing over the back of her hands. She pulled, and his grip tightened.
“Breathe.” His amused laughter didn’t make her feel any better. “I’m not goin’ to bite you.”
“Right now,” someone muttered.
“You need to understand somethin’,” Luc continued. “You don’ have to like me or my Pack, but you hear me on this. You choose to stay. You choose to go. That’s your right, and my boys here will be playin’ by that rule. The blue moon, she shows us who our mates are, but it’s up to the mates to be sayin’ yes.”
Her gaze flew to his. Talk about unexpected. An ultimatum to get her ass out of dodge? Some nasty comment about how she didn’t fit into his wolf pack? Sure. That she’d expected.
“I can say no?”
“She don’ wan’ to do that,” Landry growled.
“Is that the truth, honey?” Luc ran his eyes over her. “You wan’ my boy here? You wan’ to be keepin’ him? Think about it, because while you got the choice, you don’ get to be unchoosin’.”
He let go of her hands and stood up.
“I can leave any time?” She pushed her hair back from her face.
“Yeah.” Luc shot her an undecipherable look, and she decided then and there that she had no desire to know what he was thinking. He still scared the shit out of her.
Smoothly, Dre pushed himself upright and stalked towards her. “Let’s be discussin’ that choice of yours, then. Come on over here.”
Dre pulled her to her feet, grinning with male amusement. Before she could open her mouth—and say what?—he scooped her up in his arms and headed back to his cabin, kicking open the door and taking her through with him.
He set her on her feet, his arms falling away from her.
“You really want to sleep with me.” The words were out of her mouth before she could bite them back. She’d never understood the attraction of a virtual stranger before. But now, looking at him, she did. She wanted to know him, wanted all of him right now. He made her greedy.
His amused smile made her madder. “I’ll show you later.”
“You wish.” She knew she spoke too fast, her agitation spilling out of her and making her voice too loud, too sharp.
“The Pack will find Riley.” He let her go and reached for the small arsenal of weapons piled on top of a dresser.
“I want action, not words,” she gritted out. Her heart was racing, beating out a frantic hurry-up-and-get-there rhythm like her body knew where she was headed and wanted to get there stat.
“You’ve got my promise. Landry’s. The rest of the Pack’s.” He reached for a Glock, checked the magazine and tucked the handgun in his waistband. “Those aren’t just words, sha.”
“Your Luc asked if I’d chosen.”
“You will.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “Real soon.”
“No,” she said fiercely. “This is me, my life. I'm not giving in to this.”
“Fight.” His hand flattened on the closed door. “Believe me, I get fighting. Sometimes, though, there are battles you can't win, honey. This is one of them. You think Landry and I can’t convince you to be choosin’ us? This doesn’t have to be a battle, sha. You liked bein’ in my arms. As soon as I get done givin’ Luc a 4-1-1 on what Landry and I found out there in the bayou, I’ll be right back. We’ll see how much we can make you like my touch.”
Landry slipped in the door. His eyes slid from Mary Jane back to his brother, clearly assessing the situation.
“We’re ready to roll,” he said, and Dre nodded.
“When we get back,” he told her, “then we’ll have ourselves a conversation. Sort this out.”
Landry and Dre turned towards the door, ready to walk out on her and into battle. They knew precisely what it meant to fight. They had no business giving her the roll-over-and-play-dead speech. No business at all. That unfamiliar anger hit again, and it felt good. This time, she let the red tide swallow her up, snatching and launching a book from the bedside table.
Dre turned, preternaturally quick, his hand snapping up to snag the flying missile. Oh God. This kind of behavior wasn't like her.
And that definitely wasn't in control.
Her shoe landed on the bed beside her with unerring accuracy. “Stay calm. Stay put. I'll be back, sha. I'll take care of you then.”
His words could have been pure promise—or threat. Fuck him. She opened her mouth, but he was already prowling towards her.
Not moving was the hardest fucking thing she’d done. His eyes glowed as he stared at her, and his low growl had the hair standing up on the back of her neck. Her wolf wasn’t happy with her.
At all.
“No.” She held his gaze, knowing she couldn’t afford to give up any ground now. He was one hundred percent wolf. Give him an inch, and he’d take everything. Sure enough, his big body moved right into her space, pinning her between the wall and himself as he backed her up.
Dre’s possessive growl was warning enough that he didn’t like this situation, either. His hand slapped down beside her head, deliberately reminding her that he was bigger and larger. Dominant. No. She wasn’t helpless here. Something primal uncurled inside her. She. Wasn’t. Helpless.
“Mine,” she growled at them.
Dre’s eyes searched her face, and then that too-familiar, wicked grin tugged at his mouth. “Oui, sha. That’s the truth.” Landry looked at Dre. “I think we need to take care of this now.”
“And I think I’m agreein’ with you. We move fast, we can make up the time. Catch up with the Pack.” Dre nodded, like his
mind was made up.
They both turned towards her. And uh-oh, was she in trouble.
Landry raised a brow. “You think we’d hurt you, sha?”
She looked uneasily from one to the other. She wanted to back down, but she’d started this. “No, of course not.”
“She does think that.” Landry didn’t sound happy with her halfhearted answer.
His big hand came up and cupped her jaw, turning her face to look at him. Calloused fingers scraped erotically over her skin. “You’re sayin’ no, honey, but you’re not meanin’ those words.”
“I think she should choose first,” Dre growled, but he moved closer.
She licked her lips. God, they both looked so fine. Even more fine when Landry grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt and hauled the cotton straight over his head. Six-pack didn’t begin to describe those luscious, hard ridges.
Tough on the outside. Sweet on the inside.
Something in her got that and let go of the worry.
“Maybe I’ll do both,” she challenged.
Landry’s grin made her knees go weak. “Don’ make promises you don’ wan’ to keep.”
Dre moved in closer, each step he took pressing her back towards their big bed in an age-old dance. Which was exactly where she wanted to be, although she wasn’t going to make this too easy for them.
“You wan’ more kissin’?” Landry asked the question.
She bit her lip. “I want it all.”
Dre caught the betraying gesture and looked at his brother. “You think she’s going to be handlin’ it all?”
Landry laughed, threading his fingers through her hair and tugging her gently closer. “We’ll find out.”
“More than kissing,” she said. “Definitely.”
“We’re not goin’ slow this time,” Dre warned. “Landry here, he’ll warm you up just fine. He can’t wait, either.”
“I’m kissin’ you.” Landry stroked her throat, casual and knowing. That touch shouldn’t make her so wet.