Alpha Call

by BA Tortuga

“I can’t.” If nothing else, she wouldn’t put him and his pack in danger. “He’s after me.”

  “He is and we can help you.” He stared her down a little. He was really good at that. It made her a little shivery, a lot growly.

  “Just go home.” She turned away, determined to storm off, then started when he grabbed her arm again, whirling her around as neatly as if they were dancing.

  Then he kissed her. He was making that a habit.

  “Stop kissing me.” She snarled, then pushed back into the kiss, taking his mouth with a growl.

  He moaned or grunted or something, holding her close, his free arm sliding around her back. He half lifted her, rubbing her up and down his body until all she could smell was him. Strong, male, rich—it soothed her somehow, eased the horror and the fury inside her.

  Bastard.

  She didn’t want a man to make it better. She didn’t need help. But, oh, she wanted him.

  He wrapped around her, eyes on hers, so serious. “Come home with me.”

  She couldn’t, but she couldn’t look away, couldn’t look at the chaos, the disgusting mess.

  “Hey.” He lifted her chin. “Don’t make me carry you.”

  “Stop it.” She moaned as he stroked through her hair. God, she was tired. Bone-deep tired.

  “Come on, honey. I’ll send a couple of my guys to get anything they can out of this. The moon is so close, I can feel it. You need a safe place. Come home with me.”

  “Just for the moon. That’s it.” She looked around. “He ruined my clothes. My bed.”

  “We’ll make it right, huh?” He put an arm around her, pulling her away from it all, and Mongo barked at her when they went outside.

  “Do you have food for him?” She whistled for her boy. No way she’d leave him behind.

  “Absolutely. He’ll be good to go.” He was so warm. So tempting.

  He slid her into his truck and settled Mongo in the back seat. Brett was just…strong. Stable. Capable. All the things she’d never found in a man before.

  Don’t get used to it. One full moon and you’re gone, Wendy. Jack’s out there and he’ll kill anyone hunting your heart.

  Still, she could take one full moon and make a memory that would last. That might just be worth all the trouble.

  Chapter Seven

  Brett kept glancing at Wendy, waiting for her to lose her shit. The smell in her place had been intense and awful, making him want to chew the asshole up, so she had to be just ready to pop.

  She was holding it together, though, even if it was by the skin of her teeth.

  He didn’t push, though. Not here in the truck.

  Damn. She smelled like sadness and he wanted to be holding her. Loving on her. Giving her a place to chill the fuck out.

  He sped up, zooming toward home. Mongo barked a little, scratching at the window. Oh someone liked to hang their head out.

  “He won’t jump out. He’s a good boy.”

  “Cool.” Brett distracted himself with putting the window down, letting Mongo scent the wind.

  They headed up into the mountains, the air getting colder, sweeter. He could breathe so much better out here, the lingering scent of acrid male anger fading. He glanced at Wendy, tickled to find her melting back against the seat.

  Her eyes were closed, her face relaxed. By the moon, she was stunning.

  His heart started a slow, heavy thudding, his body tightening.

  His lady.

  Wendy moaned softly, hand sliding over his thigh. Every muscle in his leg went stiff and he was afraid he’d hit the gas too damn hard.

  “Almost there.”

  Her eyes popped open and she pulled away. “Sorry. I dozed off.”

  “Oh. Sorry. I thought you said something.” Okay, that made him feel stupid. She’d probably been having a nightmare or something.

  “No. No. Well, maybe.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose.

  “No worries, honey. You’re in a safe place.” As much as he wanted to jump her, he wanted her to know she could just relax. That was even more important.

  “I really need a drink.” And a long bubble bath and a hard cry. Maybe a hug.

  Her internal voice was like a drug. He almost answered her.

  Almost.

  “I can get you a drink in three minutes.” And he had a huge tub. She could soak. He could watch. It would be great. Maybe, if he was a good dog, she’d shave her legs for him. The idea made him want to howl a little. Maybe a lot.

  They pulled up to the house and Mongo bounced and whined, tail wagging furiously. The scents had to be overwhelming, for sure. Poor guy. Brett patted his butt and gave him permission to explore with a single sound.

  “No one will hurt him, right? He’s not aggressive.” Wendy stepped out of the car, arms around her sides. “The fucker fouled his food bowl.”

  “No one will hurt either of you. Ever.” He couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to take her in his arms.

  She looked up at him, eyes glistening and wet. “Not out here. Take me inside.”

  His proud lady.

  “Come on, honey. You need a bath.” He whistled up Mongo and lifted her, carrying her into his cabin, away from curious eyes. She looked shattered.

  Wendy didn’t say a word and he locked them in, taking her upstairs into his master suite, into the bathroom with its giant whirlpool tub. The jets took a few moments to get going, so he used that time to strip her down, trying to ignore the tears streaming down her face.

  He shucked his clothes and then eased them both into the steaming water, keeping her close, but not squeezing her. He let her float a little, let the water relax her muscles, let her breathing slow.

  Sweet lady. He hummed, deep in his chest, letting the vocalization ease them both.

  She sank back against him, the bubbles all around them. He held her against him, her butt in his lap, but there was no pressure in him. Wendy needed comfort, not sex. Not yet.

  He grabbed the soap and slowly washed her, keeping his touch light, easy, letting her body tell him what she wanted from him. She tensed when he touched her scars, but Brett didn’t let himself back away from the raised marks. Those were part of her, so he was going to love them, respect her strength, her courage. His fingers slipped to her ribs. No one would ever hurt her again, not if he had anything to say about it. He was going to find this asshole and rip his throat out and maybe offer his still-beating heart to Wendy.

  That was a happy-making thought, really. Giving his mate the choice parts.

  He grinned, kind of glad she couldn’t see him. Brett wouldn’t want her to think he was taking this lightly.

  “I like the bubbles.” She turned to her side, rested her cheek against his chest.

  “So do I. They’re comforting, huh?” He liked watching her with the bubbles on her skin. He drew a heart with his index finger, the tiny suds leaving an impression for only a second before they melted from her heat.

  “They are. They smell good.” Her hand moved through the foam, fingers dragging through the water, tips so close to his skin.

  His body tightened, his breath catching. God, he wanted her to touch him.

  Her lips brushed the hollow of his throat, her moan soft, husky.

  “Such a pretty lady. So soft.” He kissed the top of her head, his hand sliding to her hip.

  “You’re not soft.” She lifted her chin, offering him her lips.

  He took the kiss, letting his tongue push into her mouth. No, he was hard as a rock for her.

  Wendy turned in his arms, fingers moving to frame his face. Her legs fell on either side of his and she pushed up against his chest. By the moon herself, his lady felt heavenly against him, slick skin and delicious curves. He just held her for the longest time, kissing her deep. It was like a drug.

  Her lips swelled, lush and delicious, and when she moaned for him, the sound vibrated inside him.

  Brett breathed in her scent, which mixed with the musk and sandalwood of his bubble bath. It made hi
m grunt, his body moving through the water, hips rising and falling.

  Her curls slipped along his shaft, the slick touch sweet and causing his balls to draw up, and his abs burned, his entire body screaming to press inside. Wendy rose up, lips moving over the tip of his cock. “This okay? I need.”

  Was it okay?

  It was so okay that he might just explode. He was definitely teetering on the edge.

  His hands landed on her hips, encouraging her down, but not pushing, letting her control it, letting her sink down over him and capture him in the softest, hottest place on earth. Brett moaned, his body wanting to take, wanting to make her his. Now.

  She took him in, her lips clinging to his as she shuddered. Fuck, yes. His.

  Brett waited until she started shifting up and down, until she was trying to find a rhythm. Then he began to move, rocking his hips so he slid deep.

  “Yeah, just like that.” Oh, thank God. She needed him too.

  Her lips met his, Wendy groaning for him, soft and sweet, and he couldn’t help his growl. He wanted to take her hard and deep, but he let her set the pace, let her have whatever she wanted.

  “Harder.” Those pretty eyes met his. “I need to feel you.”

  “Anything you need, honey.” He meant it too. It might kill him, but if he had to stop even, he would.

  Her eyes—suddenly as green as bottle glass—snapped up at him. “You. I need you.”

  That was clear—as clear as the way her pussy squeezed him. He groaned, his muscles clenching, his body trying to hold off.

  He surged up, his ass slamming on the bottom of the tub on every thrust. He was going to have fucking bruises. It was weirdly hot that she was such a stud, that she could make him crazy without even trying. He was going to make her come, then he was taking her to his bed and they could go at it again before he fed her. She was so damn pretty, so slick and hot against him. Home. She was more home than he’d ever had before.

  Her hair fell around him, sweet-smelling and heavy, damp. He pushed one hand up into the mass of silky stuff, cupping the back of her head. He kissed her again and again. He felt every kiss around his cock, her body responding to him, eager. The water sloshed around them, their bodies slapping together.

  Her nipples dragged over his chest, her eyes rolled and then his lady was calling out, coming for him.

  Brett held her close, panting, his belly rippling with effort.

  “Come on. You now.” Demanding girl.

  “Help me, honey.” He thrust hard, his body on fire.

  “Yes.” She slammed down, grinding against him.

  Christ. He just lost it, giving her what she was demanding, his seed pulsing from him in hard spurts. Wendy’s hands tangled in his hair, their lips crashing together as they rode out the pleasure.

  Panting, he relaxed down in the water, letting it ease muscles that had clenched up. Brett was half afraid to say anything, not wanting to break the mood and send her crashing into tears.

  She tilted her head, lips brushing his jaw, the touch soft and electric.

  Brett hoisted up, his arms around her. Grabbing a towel, he dried her off on the way to the bedroom.

  She stayed wrapped around him, her nipples hard, her breath soft. He stroked her skin with one hand, supporting her with the other. The way she trusted him made him feel ten feet tall.

  He eased them both down on the bed, pulling the comforter around them. He was rarin’ to go again, but she might need rest more than mating. He did what was best for his pack. Period.

  “Not pack, but I could so go for a two-fer.” She bit his earlobe, hard enough to burn.

  Brett stifled a chuckle, knowing if she’d heard his thoughts, she was well on the way to completing the mating process. He turned his head and bit her right back, teeth on her shoulder.

  She stiffened, rocking as if she couldn’t decide whether to be pissed off or turned-on. He didn’t let her get grumpy about it. He just kept at her, licking and nipping.

  Wendy started playing back, fingers on his chest, tugging his hairs and his nipples as she growled.

  It turned into a tussle of the best kind, both of them biting and pinching, his soft slap to her ass making her grunt.

  “Watch it, fuzzy.” She tugged his balls.

  “Why?” He growled it out.

  “Because I said so.” Those bright blue eyes flashed green, challenging him.

  He pushed a little, flattening on top of her, letting her feel his weight. “I don’t take orders.”

  “I don’t either. I’m not fucking pack.” Her body rippled underneath him, the scent of her arousal was similar to a drug.

  “You’re my pack, honey. You sure are.”

  “I don’t need an alpha male around.” She pushed up, mouth taking his.

  No, she didn’t need one at all. She needed someone she could push, someone who could always be her safe place to land. Brett would happily do that for her and he would take this kind of need and hunger every day.

  And she would be his queen, his lady, the woman who would make him whole.

  He rolled against her, hard again so fast it left him breathless.

  “You feel so good.” She spread, slick pussy lips sliding against his shaft.

  “So do you, baby.” She really wasn’t a honey anymore.

  “We’re going to go again?”

  “Hell, yes. You ready to ride?”

  Wendy arched up underneath him and his dick slipped right in, making his eyes cross. She was a perfect fit. You read about shit like that, and God knew, Brett had been through his share of partners, but this was like nothing else, ever. So keeping her.

  He balanced himself on one elbow, his fingers wanting to feel her nipples, her belly, more. Wendy’s skin was drying off, giving him a whole different kind of friction. He’d have to remember that, from the bath to the bed, how it was fun to explore different atmospheres.

  Her belly tightened and he felt it all around his cock. The squeeze made him growl and she rumbled back, deep and challenging. So hot. Such a strong lady.

  Not that she was going to keep him from taking what he wanted.

  In fact, she was moving on him, riding him into the mud. Her whole body looked flushed, her skin warm to the touch. Her body held him perfectly and he thrust in, driving harder, faster.

  Brett had thought he was going to last longer this time but now he wasn’t so sure.

  “Touch me.” Her teeth were on his shoulder, moving toward his throat.

  It took a long moment to unclench his hands from her hips, but he did it. He touched her everywhere he could reach.

  Fuck, her skin was soft—supple, silky—he wanted to lick every inch. He started with her chin, because it was right there, tilted up for him.

  She made this amazing sound, her nails digging in. “Yes.”

  He grinned, that feral joy welling up in him again. He nipped, not hard, and moved down to the base of her throat.

  “Oh. I. Not my throat.”

  “No?” He would change her mind. He nuzzled again, letting his tongue drag along the sweet skin and he felt her pleasure ripple around his cock. She loved that. Hell, she was a natural. A natural and his and he was going to make her happy and safe if it killed him.

  Brett grinned, thinking how it would be a great way to go.

  He moved down, lips on her collarbone, and he let his teeth scrape along her skin. She arched under him, her hand pushing between them to touch herself.

  Oh God. That was like porn. Like really good porn, which there wasn’t any of, except in his fantasies.

  He raised up enough to watch, the sight of her fingers moving, that flat belly and her amazing, heavy breasts bouncing the most perfect thing ever. His body responded to her on a level that went deeper than the physical.

  “Please. More.” Oh. Oh hell yes.

  He gave her more, touching her, his hand slipping down to cover hers. He guided her fingers, giving her more friction.

  “Yes. Just like that.” H
er cries filled the air and his bed was going to smell of her, of them. He could wallow in that later, but for now he concentrated on pleasure for both of them.

  Her clit was swollen, slick with her need, and every time their fingers circled, her body clenched. She had a velvet vise grip. Her thighs pushed in around him, tight with muscle.

  Brett howled, teeth snapping at the air. Made him wild. His body knew what he needed, knew what she had to have. He moved instinctively from there on out, his hips rolling.

  He felt her orgasm, her muscles rippling around his cock, her thighs jerking against his legs. He grunted, not even trying to hold off this time around. He came for her, his whole self going over the edge and falling fast.

  Wendy held onto him, sighing softly as he rested down onto her.

  “Better, hmm?” Not that he couldn’t feel her relax.

  “Uh-huh.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Can I stay?”

  “Hell, yes.” Thank God she’d asked instead of making him insist. For once she was doing something the easy way.

  “Thank you.” She settled and he let his fingers comb through her hair.

  He had a lot to do tomorrow and he had a feeling things were going to get ugly. For now, though, he was content to hold her. Keep her safe.

  Possibly feed her rare steak.

  Chapter Eight

  Wendy’s belly woke her up, growling and snarling, hungry for…

  The moon. The moon would be here tomorrow.

  She sat up, rumbling deep in her chest.

  “Shh.” A big hand stroked down her back and she heard the sound of Mongo’s tail thumping the floor.

  “I…” She felt that touch deep inside, her body urging her to relax, ease back down, melt into solid heat. “Brett.”

  “Mmmhmm. That’s my girl.” His bass rumble made her mushy inside, which she’d always thought was a load of hooey until now.

  “I’m hungry.” And lazy. And altogether too comfortable.

  “Yeah? Can your dog cook?”

  “You wish. Mongo and I have the same experience with that.” She was an Oreo and Ramen type of girl.

  “Good thing I can make breakfast then, huh?” He stroked her skin a few more moments, tracing her scars, before popping her lightly on the butt.