The Agent Gets Her Wolves [The Shifters of Catamount, Texas 3] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting)

by Josie Hunter

  Talon rubbed his nose. “There’s always the FedEx Office.”

  Intrigued, Stephanie took a few steps toward him. “Hmm, are you suggesting we cheat?”

  “It’s only cheating if we get caught.” He balanced a paper clip on his finger. “I hear they do quality work. Should be able to print up some licenses in no time. There’s some damn impressive software out there now.”

  “Hmm, I like the way you think. And it’s really only a pretend real estate agency.” She tapped her lip. “About your position…How about maintenance?”

  “Isn’t Rusty already slated for maintenance? I mean he knows all that shit.”

  “Yeah, he is, but I could put you in a jumpsuit, too, and we could pretend you know everything there is to know about condos and water mains and electrical panels and whatever else people like that think about. Maybe Rusty could even teach you a thing or two.”

  “Learning new stuff sucks, but it sounds better than this shit.” He swept the booklet into the trashcan. “Can my jumpsuit be blue?” He batted his eyelashes at her. “I think blue is my best color.”

  She rubbed the top of his bald head. “Anything for you, kid.”

  “Where are you heading?”

  “I’m off to buy some new clothes.”

  “Thought using your sex appeal was beneath you.”

  “It is,” Stephanie admitted, “but you’re right about the look. I look like I should be tailing the president, not finding condos for vacationers.” She smoothed her hand down her blouse. “Damn, I love this outfit. I have six of them. Are you sure—”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Since the FedEx idea might not fly with Tyler Lucas, we’ll need a backup plan. Go over the short list while I’m gone. If I can’t convince Jake Westin this is the job of his dreams, I’ll have to settle for a body, anybody. Whether it’s Jake or some second-rate agent, we can make the new guy get the real estate license. Last hire and all.” She smirked.

  “Go get ’em, tiger.”

  She wiggled her butt and yanked open the door. Talon howled as she marched out into the scorching Texas sun.

  * * * *

  In Darlin’ Duds, Stephanie moved her gaze from her friend back to the image in the mirror. “I just don’t think it’s me, Coral.”

  “Nonsense. You look beautiful. Besides, isn’t that the point of being here? Aren’t you looking for a brand-new ‘you’?”

  “Not remotely,” Stephanie grumbled. “Can’t I just get a pastel pantsuit or something?”

  Coral shuddered, a very sensual slide of her snake-shifter body. “No one wears pastel pantsuits anymore.”

  “My mother does.”

  “And I’m sure she looks lovely,” Coral said with a sigh. “But when you walk out of this shop, you’re walking out in style, not like a twentieth-century fashion disaster. Why else did you ask me to meet you here? You wanted my advice, right?”

  Stephanie studied her reflection and pushed her glasses up her nose. Her five-foot-two, one-hundred-pound frame felt naked without her button-down blouse and dark suit. The soft fabric of the royal blue Tee dress hugged every curve of her body and fell to mid thigh. The scoop neck wasn’t super low cut, but the area between her breastbone and the skin of her throat invited gazes. The short, capped sleeves did show off her toned arms—she worked hard to get them that way—but also showed off way too much skin.

  Had it been any other woman in the mirror, Stephanie would have agreed with Coral’s assessment, but the woman staring back with critical brown eyes was her. So this dress, pretty as it looked, was out of the question. She wasn’t used to her breasts being molded, the curve of her waist defined, and her hips hugged by a brown leather belt. The white accent design, where the fabric had been tie-dyed, ran in a sinuous line down the length of her body and seemed to call attention to every curve she had.

  She turned to view her profile. Her breasts pushed against the fabric and looked huge. “Can’t we do something about this?” She gestured toward her chest. “I feel like a stripper.”

  “You’re a D cup.” Coral laughed. “What would you like me to do? I’m not qualified to do a breast reduction.”

  “But my boobs look gigantic.”

  Coral twisted Stephanie around to face the mirror again. “They look full and ripe, which is exactly what every woman would kill for, my darling little bunny.”

  “But the dress is so tight,” Stephanie complained, twisting her body to look at her backside. “You can see my panty lines.”

  “Which is why you wear a thong under this dress.”

  “Ack! No. I could never wear a thong. Jeez, I might as well strap dental floss between my butt cheeks.”

  Coral reached down to the bench and lifted a dark blue thong, her red-tipped fingernails holding the fabric delicately for inspection. “This will do until you go lingerie shopping. They have some nice things here, but you really need to go to Purrrfectly Fine Lingerie and see Lisa. She will find the most delicious undergarments for you.”

  “The word delicious should never be used with undergarments.”

  Coral sighed and gave Stephanie a smile that was far too sultry for 11:00 a.m. “Then you don’t know the right men.”

  “I’m not currently in the mood for a man, so that’s not an issue. I also don’t want delicious undergarments, Coral. I just want something to cover my skin.”

  “You’re not in Boston any longer, Agent Cooper. You’ve been in Texas for months now. If you keep wearing those black suits, we’re going to find your shriveled-up husk in the middle of Main Street. And that, little one, is not going to be a pretty picture.”

  Stephanie shimmied out of her boring white cotton panties then plucked the undergarment from Coral and pulled the thong up her legs. She squirmed as she adjusted the thong, trying to stretch the fabric where no thong had gone before. She finally just gave up, but every time she moved an inch, she felt the dental floss sliding between her cheeks. She’d never be able to handle this. It felt both annoying and sensual at the same time—two sensations Stephanie tried to avoid at all costs.

  She smoothed the dress down over her thighs. It might be completely wrong for her, but she did love the soft feel of the material against her skin. Her legs looked pale, like two eels that had come up from the depths of the ocean, but like her arms, they were toned. The blue wedge sandals she wore made her legs look even better. She glanced toward Coral. Her friend had the most beautiful chocolate-colored skin, naturally dewy and healthy. Stephanie felt like a dead fish standing next to her. Maybe she just needed a bit of sun. Oh, who was she kidding? A tan wasn’t going to fix her attitude.

  She cast a look at the pile of black clothing on the bench.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Coral said as she began to fold the pants. “I can’t allow you back into them in my presence. In fact, I’ll just take them out and have the clerk put them in a bag while you decide what you’d like to buy.” She gestured to the half dozen outfits hanging on the peg. “They all looked wonderful on you.”

  “Thanks, Coral. Well…” Stephanie twisted once more to get the full view, deciding that without the panty lines, her butt kind of rocked in the dress. “Okay. I’ll wear this one. I have an errand to run, and this will work. I’ll have them bag up the rest, too, and I’ll pick them up later. I may need some more ammunition if the rest of my morning doesn’t go according to plan.”

  Coral gave her another sultry look and then fluttered her hand in front of her face. “Darling, you look hot. If that dress doesn’t work, we have some serious issues with the men in this town.”

  Chapter 2

  Stephanie stood on the street marveling at the architecture. Designed in the style of a high-class Western bordello, the building was beautiful, and it fit perfectly with the history of the old Texas town. She studied the wrought iron railing on the second floor and the French door beyond, wondering what sorts of things she might see if those doors were open. She’d been aware of Clandestine since coming
to Catamount, and she also knew what sort of club it was. Stephanie considered it part of her job to be ever vigilant, and she always listened to conversations going on around her. She’d heard the club discussed in both secret whispers and in outright delight. According to the gossip, the alpha’s own wife frequented the club. She’d seen Carly Lucas several times now, and the sweet, pretty, and outgoing woman had never seemed like the kind to frequent a bondage club, but frequent it she did, along with the alpha’s youngest brother, Cougar, one of her five mates.

  Stephanie also knew Clandestine was so outside her comfort zone she’d avoided it like the plague. Now it seemed she had to find a way inside. The windows on the ground floor were darkly tinted so she had no idea what she’d be getting herself into—if she could get herself inside. That “if” was a big issue.

  The sign beside the doorbell warned visitors they must be members to enter. No help for that. She had a mission to accomplish.

  She pressed the doorbell and held her breath. When the door opened to reveal a very large man, she knew immediately she was looking at a wolf-shifter because her inner animal twitched. She knew plenty of wolf-shifters personally, had even had relationships with them, but just like their animal counterparts in nature, rabbit-shifters and wolf-shifters rarely saw eye to eye, especially when meeting for the first time. Far too much bad blood between them—mostly rabbit blood. She tried to calm the animal, but no matter how much she’d worked to hone her outward appearance to reflect confidence and strength, her little animal was always a bit skittish, especially around new wolves. Stephanie allowed it to run and hide, burying deep inside like the frightened bunny it was.

  She, however, didn’t have that luxury. She had to face the wolf. She lifted her face higher and higher—past the black leather vest and over long strands of russet hair—until she met his eyes, brooding and dark, but with a glint of silvery light. His eyes flickered with amusement as his gaze slid down her frame, taking in all the curves she’d seen in the mirror. A smile lifted the corner of his mouth. The humor contrasted with the hard planes of his face and flustered her a bit. She drew in a deep breath and knew, just knew, her breasts were far too perky. Damn dress.

  “Can I help you?” the wolf-shifter said.

  “Would you be Jake Westin?” She knew nothing about Westin beyond he’d worked for secret service, was a wolf shifter, and had the blessing of Tyler Lucas, all things she planned to capitalize on. And Barry had said Westin was big. The guy in front of her sure fit that bill.

  The man stared at her. “Name’s Redwolf.”

  She’d obviously have to pry information out of this man with a crow bar. “Would Mr. Westin be working today?”

  “Might be.”

  She sidestepped to the right, trying to see beyond the huge body into the building. Cool air and enticing—and frightening—smells came from the dark interior. Her little rabbit twitched again and burrowed deeper, but a drop of moisture leaked from Stephanie’s pussy. This was so not a good idea.

  Once more unto the breach…

  She reached into her purse and pulled out her ID wallet. She flipped it open just as Redwolf said, “No need for that. I know who you are.”

  “Oh.” The words held such disdain she took a step back.

  He studied her hard, and Stephanie blinked against his gaze. “You look different today. Gave up the black, I see.”

  “Yes, well, it’s an awfully hot day, don’t you think?”

  “No hotter than any other since you arrived in June.” He lifted his face toward the blistering sun. “In fact, I’d say it’s downright cool today.”

  It was ninety-eight freaking degrees out, and Stephanie could feel every degree of that in the sweat sliding her spine. This man’s attitude wasn’t helping, and the fact that he knew more about her than she obviously knew about him did not sit well with her. Not well at all.

  “If you would just tell Jake Westin I’m here, Mr. Redwolf, I—”

  He folded his massive arms over his equally massive chest. “Just Redwolf.”

  “Just Redwolf then.” She huffed. “I really need to speak to Mr. Westin.”

  “You might need to speak to him, but Jake’s not interested in speaking to you. He already told me about the phone call this morning.” His gaze skittered down her frame again. “He might just change his mind if he gets a peek at you though. Why don’t you come on in?”

  She gulped. “Inside?” Those enticing smells drifted toward her again on the cool air. In that breath of air, she smelled so many different shifters it was almost overwhelming, especially at 11:30 in the morning. How could people even think of sex while the sun was shining? It seemed completely decadent and totally self-indulgent. Of course, there’d been a time when she’d done the same thing.

  “Yeah, inside,” Redwolf said. “That’s where Jake is. Doing his job. Like he does every day. A job he likes, by the way. You want to see him, right? Isn’t that why you…” His gaze traveled down her body again, and his nose twitched as he inhaled. “Or, in that getup, maybe you’re looking to hook up?”

  Stephanie clenched her jaw. “I most certainly am not. Mr. Westin please.”

  “Suit yourself, but I think you’d find some more-than-willing volunteers inside.” He stepped aside and gestured through the door.

  She took a step forward then stopped dead. What was she doing? She might see things inside she’d never be able to erase from her mind. Bondage club. Fetish club. Sex club. No matter what word she used, it all boiled down to Not suitable for Agent Stephanie Cooper.

  Redwolf chuckled. “Afraid, little bunny?”

  Internally, she bristled at his words. Outwardly, she wanted to cower. She shook her head, and her hair tickled along her collarbone. She didn’t like that sensation at all. It felt downright sensual, like some sort of conspiracy to lure her into the seductively scented and intriguing interior. She thought about getting the clip out of her purse, but that would spell fear with a capital F. “Of course I’m not afraid.”

  He smiled, but it wasn’t a humorous smile. It was a dare.

  She straightened up, fully aware of her nipples pressing against the cotton of her bra and the slide of the leather belt on the curves of her hips. She marched past him, also fully aware of his eyes on her ass.

  Damn dress.

  * * * *

  Jake Westin had just finished restocking the flavored vodka when he heard the doorbell chime. Time seemed to have no meaning in Catamount. Clandestine clients did what they wanted when they wanted. He glanced over his shoulder expecting to see one of the morning regulars strolling through the lower level lounge. He assumed it would be one of the bird-shifters. Most were diurnal and particularly liked the morning hours. But no one appeared.

  He considered stepping to the front door to see if Redwolf needed help. Catamount didn’t get much trouble, but when trouble came, it came with the force of a tsunami. Since they were lightly staffed during the day, none of the regular bouncers were working. Though manager and head bartender, Jake often lent a hand to the doorman. He waited for several more moments, alert for any sound or sign of a problem, but Redwolf never rang the silent alarm.

  He went back to his clipboard, counting and making sure the liquor was all restocked. They’d gone through a lot of Jack Daniel’s the night before, but that made sense since the Mercer-James gang had been in for their regular Tuesday poker night. Those phoenixes really liked their Jack.

  He was ready to head to the office when a heavenly scent engulfed the bar area. It drifted around him like the warmth a sudden Texas rain, infusing his entire body with both simmering comfort and hot desire. His cock tightened in his jeans, swelling as that scent grew heavier and closer. It smelled unlike anything he’d scented before, and he turned just as the source walked into his view. She came toward him rather reluctantly, her steps almost muffled by the straw wedges she wore. Even without them, her movements would have been graceful and quiet.

  In the dim light of the bar, her fa
ir hair flowed over her shoulders like ribbons of light, curling over the swell of her breasts, which were perfectly molded in the tight blue dress she wore. The color highlighted her alabaster skin. He wondered how anyone could have lived in Texas for four months and still be so pale. Her bright brown eyes sparkled behind a pair of no-nonsense black-framed glasses. They were pretty and watched him with a caution he didn’t usually see in the club. In fact, she focused on him with an almost unnatural intensity. She stared straight ahead, as though she were afraid unsavory sights would appear all around her in a kaleidoscope of promiscuous behaviors.

  Even though her eyes had his complete attention, he couldn’t keep his gaze from drifting over every inch of her petite frame for a split second. He’d seen some beautiful women in Catamount, but this one almost stole his breath. She was a perfect little bundle of repressed energy. He could see it in the slight twitch of her shoulders, her shallow breaths, and the way she studied him with both a slight apprehension and a barely contained aggression. He wanted to both tuck her beneath her arm and cup his hand over his balls. He had no idea which direction this woman would go. And he liked it.

  Though he’d seen her only from a distance, he also knew exactly who she was. If Stephanie Cooper, Homeland Security agent and adorable little bunny-shifter, thought she could play the sex card with him and get him to change his mind, she wasn’t as smart as she looked. He had to admit she looked good in the sexy dress, but he’d liked her just as well, if not more, in the black suit. He loved a woman in a black suit. Dana Scully, Olivia Dunham, Clarice Starling, Agent L in Men in Black…

  Maybe it was time to back away from the TV and experience the real thing. This woman could fulfill all of his fantasies and desires.

  He had actually been intrigued by her proposal on the phone. He’d heard good things about her, and though he loved his work at Clandestine, he’d been thinking seriously lately about getting back into the game. All the recent events in Catamount had heightened his senses, aroused his curiosity, and reminded him he’d been trained for a specific purpose. He wasn’t using or honing those skills tending bar or keeping the books. He might have accepted her offer immediately had she approached him personally.