Mate's Call (Code of the Alpha)

by Lola Gabriel

  Abruptly, Rocco pulled back, his pupils dilated. “Oh, God,” he muttered, turning away from her.

  The screen door slid open and Branson sauntered into the kitchen. Zoe gnawed on her lower lip, certain her guilt was evident on her face.

  “There you are!” Branson boomed, but there was a note of suspicion in his voice. “I was wondering where you two had wandered off to.”

  “We’re just getting a beer,” Zoe murmured, grabbing for her still unopened bottle.

  “There’s a cooler outside,” Branson said pointedly, and Zoe nodded.

  “I wasn’t sure they were cold enough yet,” she lied.

  “Well, no point in hanging out in here when the party is outside,” he told them jovially, but Zoe knew her brother well enough to detect the skepticism in his eyes.

  Without responding, Rocco and Zoe allowed themselves to be ushered back into the yard, but as Branson slid the door open again, Zoe could not resist reaching out to touch Rocco’s rear.

  A small grin appeared on his face, and Zoe knew that they were about to embark on three weeks of absolute pleasure.

  3

  Rocco could not get the idea of Zoe Carrington out of his mind, and as the afternoon melted away into evening, he found he was unable to stop himself from watching the svelte blonde meander around the party, smiling and laughing.

  How could she have blossomed in such a short time? he wondered.

  Rocco had always maintained an affection for Branson’s sibling. He had watched her grow up, after all, and he had come to see her as a little sister.

  Not that day, however. Nothing was platonic about the thoughts that raced through his mind.

  Rocco turned his head and noticed Branson standing next to him, eyeing him disdainfully.

  “That’s my sister,” he snarled, and Rocco glanced at him lazily.

  “Yes,” he replied nonchalantly. “I’m aware of that. I’ve picked her up from school as many times as you have.”

  “Then stop looking at her like she’s a steak and you’re a pit bull,” Branson ordered. “I didn’t invite you here to hit on Zoe.”

  Rocco felt a spark of anger course through him. “Why the hell did you invite me here, then?” he growled. “So that you could mother me?”

  Branson’s mouth became a fine, tense line. “I’m not mothering you,” he retorted. “I’m telling you to stop gawking at my sister.”

  Rocco stared intently at his friend. “First of all, your sister is a grown woman,” he began, slightly relishing the increased annoyance in Branson’s face. “And secondly, I have no interest in her. She’s like my own sister.”

  He almost choked on his own lie, but Branson was his best friend. He didn’t want to put a strain on their relationship. Zoe was off limits. Although it was difficult to hold back his primal instincts, he would leave her alone, out of respect for Branson.

  He watched as Branson’s expression changed into one of slight relief, but Rocco could see he wasn’t convinced just yet.

  “Sorry, man,” Branson mumbled. “It’s just that she’s always going to be twelve years old to me, coming home in tears because the boys didn’t like her. I can’t reconcile she’s the same girl.”

  “Woman,” Rocco said automatically, and Bran’s brow knit instantly.

  “Whatever. Just stop staring at her, Rocco. You’re making me uncomfortable.”

  Rocco snorted and grabbed for his beer. He’d had more than he should have, but he wasn’t worried; he wasn’t going anywhere, after all.

  His dark green eyes instinctively moved back toward Zoe. She seemed to sense him watching her and she looked up from where she sat, winking overtly at him.

  “Did my sister just wink at you?”

  Rocco jerked his head back and laughed shortly. “Are you drunk?” he asked, more to shift the focus off the conversation.

  Instantly Branson grew defensive. “No!” he snapped, and Rocco could see he had struck a nerve.

  He knew Branson was sensitive about his drinking, and Rocco felt a smidgen of guilt by playing on his friend’s weakness, but desperate times called for desperate measures. However, he couldn’t act like that—Branson was like his brother.

  “Dude, sorry,” he said. “I’ll leave her alone. Okay?”

  “Thanks,” Branson said as he wandered off.

  I can look, even if I can’t touch, thought Rocco as his single-minded focus continued to watch Zoe’s every move and admire every curve of her body.

  Kissing her had been unplanned, but she had wanted it as much as he had. Logically, he knew that he couldn’t touch Branson’s sister again, but it wouldn’t be easy.

  He downed the rest of his drink and sighed. I better slow down, he warned himself. Before I have no inhibitions left whatsoever.

  4

  The house was finally still at 3 a.m., the last of the party guests long gone and the family having retired to bed hours earlier.

  Zoe had spent the wee hours of the morning creeping about upstairs, listening for signs of life. It had seemed like Bran would never go to sleep, but blissfully, as the witching hour struck, all was quiet.

  She wasted almost no time slipping from her spacious bedroom and stealthily making her way to the guest room at the end of the hallway. As she pried open the door, Zoe was slightly disappointed to find that Rocco was asleep, his broad chest rising and falling in even rhythm.

  Gently closing the door in her wake, she watched him for a long moment, debating on how to wake him. Making her way across the hardwood floor, she winced as the floorboards creaked slightly under her slender form, but in seconds, she had climbed atop the mattress.

  Her heart hammered loudly in her chest. Zoe ignored it, peeling back the white sheet draped across Rocco’s muscular body. Shocked that he was sleeping in the nude, a smile spread across Zoe’s face as the moonlight peaking in from the window illuminated every defined muscle on his body.

  He murmured something incoherent in his sleep, but didn’t stir beyond that.

  Zoe placed a light kiss on his lips, working her way down his body, her silken hair teasing as she continued with the butterfly caresses across his body.

  He was starting to wake, but before he could open his eyes, Zoe took him into her wanting mouth, sucking lightly on his member, which hardened between her lips. The size of him excited her as she imagined what he would feel like inside her quivering body.

  Groaning, Rocco’s eyelids slid open, and he struggled to sit up, half asleep yet aware of what was happening. Zoe closed her mouth firmly around him, taking him in long strokes as one hand cupped his sack, the other one rubbing at his chest.

  She could feel a gush of titillation between her own legs as she recognized his mounting pleasure. Her hand slipped off his tightening pouch to feel the wetness of her own center, and she knew she was ready for him. Pulling her mouth back, she wiped the saliva from her lower lip, her eyes boring into his as she straddled him.

  Before she could position herself, Rocco grabbed her by the waist and tossed her onto the bed, ripping at the delicate lace of her nightgown.

  Zoe squealed lightly, and he slammed a hand over her mouth as he plunged into her, grabbing her thigh to wrap it around his waist.

  Zoe’s eyes bugged at the size of him, it felt even better than she imagined. Another cry struggled to escape her, but his hand remained in place, his free palm stroking her face.

  “You really are all grown up,” Rocco muttered, grunting slightly as his thrusts grew harder.

  Her other leg rose, her ankles hooking against his broad hips. The force of his penetration drove her into the mattress.

  Her head arched backward as her orgasm exploded, shudders wracking her body over and over while Rocco pushed onward, his own climax seconds behind. When he filled her with his hot juice, he did not slow, each stroke draining her of her own fluids.

  Spent, Zoe could not move, her pulse jumping.

  This was a bad idea, she thought, her fingertips tracing over the s
mooth definition of the muscles in Rocco’s back, but she could not bring herself to believe it. As she lay beneath him, she didn’t want him to withdraw from between her legs. He felt so right there, as if he was made to fit precisely in the spot.

  “Are you okay?” Rocco asked, his voice raspy. He also seemed reluctant to leave his warm spot, and Zoe knew that they were deeply connected beyond their carnal attraction to each other.

  Rocco propped himself up on his arm and stared at her, lightly rubbing her cheek with his finger.

  “You should go back to your room,” he whispered, but Zoe shook her head.

  Besides, the look in his eyes told her that he didn’t want her to go anywhere.

  “No,” she replied firmly. “I’m staying here with you.”

  He smiled, his white teeth flashing against the darkness of the room. “You’re going to get us caught,” he warned her.

  “So, let’s get caught,” Zoe replied recklessly, but she didn’t mean it. She knew if her brother caught wind of what they had done, she’d never hear the end of it.

  “We can’t do this again,” Rocco told her, but again, Zoe could read the lie in his face.

  “Yes, we can,” she said, her lips reaching for him. “In fact, we’re going to do it again right now.”

  Over the next two weeks, it became harder and harder for Zoe and Rocco to hide their growing affection for one another, with Zoe becoming blatantly obvious about their nightly trysts.

  Rocco was certain that everyone in the Carrington household was beginning to speculate about them, but he did his best to play dumb.

  He couldn’t deny it anymore—he was falling in love with his best friend’s sister, but they could never work. Even if Branson was to give his reluctant blessing, who knew when Rocco would find himself back in Scarlet Oak?

  Every night, Zoe snuck into Rocco’s room to spend passionate hours, licking and sucking him while he lost himself in her velvety softness. He had never known another woman like her, giving so much of herself to him and wanting nothing but his prowess in return.

  “I am going back overseas next week,” he told her. “What are we going to do when I’m gone?”

  She smiled beguilingly. “We’re going to have to up our game,” she replied, throwing open her robe to expose her fresh, lovely figure.

  They rolled along the mattress, their rhythms in perfect sync as Zoe bucked underneath him, clawing at him wildly.

  Rocco gnashed gently at her skin, feeling a tightening in his chest as he strove to claim her in every possible way.

  Zoe shrieked, laughing as she was pulled atop him, giving her the straddling position she so often desired. Without preamble, she lowered herself onto him, placing Rocco’s hands on her breasts to guide her deep, slow rocking.

  A split second before the door flew open, Rocco sat up, sniffing the air, but it was too late.

  Branson stood in the doorway, his eyes bright with fury. “I knew it!” he screamed, stomping toward them.

  Before Rocco could comprehend what was happening, Branson had become the beast, lunging for the pair.

  In his rage, he swatted at his sister with a heavily clawed paw, sending her flying into the wall and making her collapse onto the ground.

  The action spurred Rocco to abandon his human form, and suddenly, the two bears were entangled in a furious fight.

  “Stop!” Zoe screamed, her voice coming out in a gasp. While it wasn’t the worst hit she had taken, it had still knocked the wind out of her, and she tried to stand up on her still shaking legs. “Stop it!”

  Neither animal seemed to hear her as they grew into a mass of howling fur and sharp claws.

  Rocco overtook his friend, pinning Branson to the bed with a massive paw and baring his teeth to go for the jugular. In an instant, he was unexpectedly wrestled backward by another bear in the room.

  “Stop it, you idiots!” Don Carrington roared, half in form, his blue eyes alight with anger.

  Rocco attempted to lunge at Branson once more, but Don wrapped his arms around him and kept him in place, holding him back.

  “You are brothers!” the older man demanded.

  The words seemed to calm Rocco and Branson down enough that they no longer yearned to kill the other, but ire was still very much alive in the room.

  Rocco felt himself transition back as Don held onto him, watching Branson do the same. He glanced toward Zoe, who had wrapped sheet around her naked form, standing on her feet but still trembling, and he rushed over to her.

  “Are you all right?” he demanded, shooting Branson a dangerous look.

  “She’s fine,” Don snapped. “She’s one of us. She’ll heal.”

  Zoe nodded, lowering her eyes in embarrassment.

  “You have been sleeping with Zoe under our noses!” Branson screamed. “When we opened our house to you!”

  “I am a part of this household, too!” Zoe snarled. “And I’m a grown woman. I can decide who I want to sleep with. That doesn’t give you the right to storm in and attack!”

  Branson seemed on the verge of morphing into his bear form once more, but Don bared his teeth in warning.

  “Is this true, Zoe?” he asked his daughter. “You’ve been carrying on under our roof with Rocco?”

  “Sir, it’s not like that,” Rocco interjected.

  “Not like what?” Branson growled. “Not disgusting and disrespectful? I thought of you like a brother, Rocco, and this is how you repay that loyalty? Seducing my sister?”

  Rocco didn’t know whether to laugh or be livid at Bran’s question.

  “No one seduced me,” Zoe snapped. “Get it through your head that I’m not a child anymore, Branson. You cannot leave for three years and believe you can come back to dictate who I can fall in love with.”

  A heavy silence fell over the room as all the men turned to look at her.

  “What did you just say?” Rocco murmured.

  Zoe’s mouth curved into a smile and she shrugged. “What? That I’m in love with you? Isn’t it obvious?” she asked nonchalantly.

  The Carrington men looked uncomfortable.

  “Well,” Don said, clearing his throat. “How do you feel about this, Rocco?”

  The words filled Rocco with an incredible happiness, and he couldn’t help shaking his head in disbelief. He had been sure that Zoe had seen their time together as fun while he fell deeper in love with her. He had never thought she mirrored his feelings.

  Rocco did not answer Zoe’s father.

  Instead, he leaned forward and cupped Zoe’s face in his palms. “I’m in love with you, too,” he told her. “These past two weeks have been the best of my life, and I can’t bear the thought of leaving you next week.”

  “You don’t have to leave me,” she murmured, and he felt a stab of uncertainty.

  “Zoe, Rocco has no say where he can live. The marines determine that for him,” Don said chidingly, and Rocco cast him a grateful look.

  Zoe laughed merrily. “I know that,” she replied. “I was thinking about going with him.”

  “Wait a minute now—” Don started, but for the first time since bursting into the bedroom, Branson seemed like the idea was growing on him.

  “Yes!” he cried, clapping his hands together. “We would be amazing as a team. The three of us, living on base together! And you could finish college online.”

  “Then, you’re happy?” Zoe asked Branson.

  With a deep breath, Branson answered, “Yes! I suspected something was up between the two of you since I’ve been home, but I didn’t suspect that you two actually had feelings for each other. This whole time, I thought he was taking advantage of you, but it seems it’s much more than that.”

  Don said, “Let’s go, Branson. We’ll give them some time to alone to talk.”

  Father and son left the room.

  Rocco stared at Zoe, his eyebrows raised in question. “Are you sure that is what you want to do?” he asked. “It means upsetting your life a great deal.”

>   “I can guarantee you that nothing will upset my life more than letting you go,” she replied, and Rocco’s heart pounded with happiness.

  He kissed her deeply and passionately, staring into her blue eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked again. “I don’t ever want you to regret your decision.”

  “The only decision I would regret is letting my mate go once I have found him,” she replied, wrapping her hands around his. “Now, let’s finish what we started.”

  THE END

  Part VIII

  Shifter Scandal

  By Juniper Hart

  Prologue

  How can a city of this magnitude be so suffocating?

  The blackness of the subway tunnels did nothing to calm her racing heart. She willed herself to stare straight ahead as if the slightest movement would attract attention. She hoped her dark sunglasses and headscarf would protect her from potential scrutiny, but she had low hopes.

  She was Gabriella Medina, after all. Her face would be recognized from Maine to Alaska and everywhere in between. There was not a place on earth where her smoldering eyes would not spark a second glance. For the first time in her twenty-four years of life, she rued her sensational good looks. There was nowhere to go, no place to hide.

  How could I have let this happen? I don’t know what to do, she told herself mournfully. How did this get so far?

  It was a question she had asked herself many times over the past weeks, but the answer did not manifest itself easily. She had no part in what had happened, not really. She wished she had been more outspoken, though, louder in her protest. It was too late now; it had escalated beyond control, and all Gabby could think to do was run.

  This will blow over eventually, she reasoned, but the words were little comfort to a girl who wanted nothing more than to disappear into thin air. There must be somewhere I can go in the meantime.

  Slowly, she lowered her too-large glasses and peered about the cesspool that was the A train heading into Manhattan. Her wide, chocolate eyes scanned the torn advertisements above the doors, hoping for inspiration.