by Paige Tyler
Instead, she buried her face and fingernails into the blanket and held on for dear life as Max made her feel things she’d only dreamed of. She knew she was making a lot of noise, but she couldn’t stop herself. It felt too amazing.
At some point, she bit down on the blanket. Of course she was. It was all part of her new biting obsession apparently. But even as good as it felt to sink her teeth deep into the soft material, almost slicing right through it, Lana instinctively knew she would have preferred to have something else in her mouth.
The image of sinking her teeth into Max’s strong shoulder muscles hit her at the same moment he slammed into her so deep stars exploded in her head.
She came.
It wasn’t one of those tame, playful orgasms she’d experienced dozens of times before. It wasn’t even one of those rare, powerful moments of pleasure she’d been lucky enough to have when everything—man, position, speed, size, ambience—had all come together just right. No, this was something completely different. An orgasm so overwhelming Lana was sure she’d fly apart into a million pieces. It started deep inside her, right where Max was thrusting, then spread out until it consumed her.
She screamed, moaned, growled, and clawed at the bed like a crazy animal.
In a way that didn’t make a lot of sense, she knew when Max came. She just felt it inside her. Not quite in the same place where her orgasm had started, but close. He wasn’t coming inside her because he was wearing a condom, but he was coming with her and that felt equally amazing.
When the waves of pleasure receded, Lana found herself lying on her stomach, Max’s heavy weight smooshing her comfortably into the bed. His face was in the crook of her neck and shoulder, his teeth gently grazing her skin. It was even possible he may have bitten her, but she couldn’t find it in her to care. She was too busy thinking about the way he was still wedged firmly inside her, making her spasm and clench in the most delightful way possible. Okay, that was frigging awesome.
Max must have thought he was putting too much weight on her, because his mouth came away from her neck and she felt him start to lift up. She reached back and got her fingers in his hair, tugging him back.
“Don’t you dare move,” she whispered. “I want you right there for the rest of the night.”
“I’m not too heavy for you?” Max asked, his breath in her ear as he settled back down on top of her.
“Never,” she said.
She was serious. She was more than ready to stay like this the rest of the night. This was perfect. In the very core of her being, she knew that. This man, in this moment? It was exactly where she was supposed to be.
But then a thought struck her, making her turn her head a little and look at him. “Do you mind if I stay? I know you have to get up early for work tomorrow.”
He chuckled. “Of course I want you to stay. Tomorrow will take care of itself. Right now, all I want to think about is you, here, lost in my arms.”
“Nice answer,” she murmured.
But as good as it felt to have Max on her this way, at some point he had to hop off to clean up. The absence of his body heat left her feeling cold and she climbed under the blankets as he disappeared into the bathroom.
“You sure you don’t mind me spending the night?” she called out. “I’m worried you won’t be able to get any rest if I’m here.”
Max flipped off the light in the hallway, standing in the bedroom doorway looking gloriously yummy and hard.
“Who the heck said anything about getting any rest tonight?” he whispered as he turned off the light in the bedroom, then stopped at the night table for another condom. “The only way either one of us will be getting any sleep tonight is if we pass out from exhaustion.”
She laughed and pulled back the blanket, making room for him. “Well, I’m not worried about that myself. Like I told you, I can stay awake for days if I really need to cram.”
“I guess we’ll see about that,” Max said as he pulled her on top of him.
She shivered as his hard-on brushed her leg. She couldn’t believe she was ready to go again, but she was. Now this was the kind of all-nighter she could enjoy.
Max’s eyes caught the glow of the street lamp coming in through the window, reflecting it back with a yellow flash in the coolest way ever. Seemed like he was stoked at the idea of an all-nighter, too.
Chapter 7
“Damn, Max. Where the hell is your head right now?” Xander growled at him. “Something tells me you completely missed the point of this particular exercise.”
Max knelt in the sand-filled pit at the SWAT compound, breathing hard as sweat mixed with the dirt and paintball splats along his bare chest to create little trails of messy color down his body. While he certainly hadn’t been the first one to cross the finish line, he’d hadn’t been that far back in the crowd—definitely not enough to gain him this kind of ire from his squad leader.
This morning’s physical training exercise was called Rescue, and it was simple. The goal was for select members of the Pack to race through the compound’s obstacle course and retrieve their “rescue victim” from one of the training buildings at the far end of the course. Next, they were supposed to get their victims back through the obstacles and deliver them safe and sound at the finish line marked by the sandpit. The body dummies being used as the victims were heavy, but for the most part, it was a piece of cake.
Of course, since Cooper had come up with this exercise, there was one small detail that made it harder. Xander and the other squad leader, Mike Taylor, were positioned along the course with paintball guns. If you got hit with a paintball, it wasn’t a big deal, but if your victim took a round instead, that meant you had to go back to the start of the course and do it again. Oh, and there was also the thing that said each werewolf could do anything within the rules to ensure that no one finished in front of them. Of course, there weren’t any rules.
He’d seen several pack mates take a tumble off the course as their teammates tripped them or threw things at them. He’d even caught sight of Brooks nailing Becker in the back of his head with his body dummy and pitching the other werewolf off a twenty-foot-high tower.
Max had to admit he’d been somewhat distracted while running the course. He’d spent the night making love to his soul mate, after all. But he’d still been the fourth werewolf across the finish line, behind Brooks, Cooper, and Khaki. Becker would probably have won since he was too fast to catch in most games, which was why Brooks had beaned him with the dummy. They might have to get an official ruling on the legality of throwing your own victim. Cooper said there weren’t any rules, but it didn’t make sense to use the people you were trying to rescue as a weapon.
Regardless, Max had done well, considering the rest of their teammates were out on the course, and he was sure his victim had never gotten hit with a paintball.
“What are you talking about?” he asked Xander.
Xander pointed at the body dummy Max had used. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
Max looked down, wondering if maybe he’d missed a paint splat on some part of the dummy he hadn’t noticed when he saw that the dummy’s head was missing. Huh. How had that happened?
“You didn’t notice your victim’s head getting caught in the lines on the rope bridge?” Xander demanded. “Or feel that slight bit of resistance as the head got ripped off?”
All Max could do was shrug. “I guess I’m a bit distracted.”
Xander shook his head. “I don’t have to ask what that distraction might be since we can smell your new soul mate all over you. Congratulations.”
Max tried to look properly chagrined but failed. “Do you want me to run through the course again?”
“With a headless dummy? Why bother?” Xander quipped. “Hit the benches with Khaki, Cooper, and Brooks.”
Max left his headless dummy where it was, hoping Gage di
dn’t make him pay for it, and followed his teammates over to the benches by the volleyball course to watch the rest of the PT session. Kari and Grace were sitting there, watching as the SWAT alphas ran around with their shirts off getting all sweaty and dirty. The two betas didn’t seem to mind the sweat—or the dirt.
“Where’s your son?” Khaki asked Grace as she sat beside the woman.
The younger of the two beta werewolves smiled. “On his way to school. He’s not thrilled about going, but I think it’s important for him to get some structure now that we’re settled. Of course, that means I now have nothing to do all morning but sit out here and watch muscular men run around and glisten.”
Khaki laughed. “You guys want to take part in the PT session? I’m sure Mike and Xander would happily show you how to shoot a paintball gun.”
The two women exchanged looks.
“You don’t think your alphas would mind getting shot at by two betas?” Kari asked, clearly tempted.
“Nah,” Cooper said. “But if you’re worried about it, you could always promise to wipe off any paint splats you manage to land.”
The two women looked at each other again.
“I’m in!” they both said at the same time, hopping off the benches.
“Maybe the guy with the British accent will let me help him clean up even if I don’t hit him,” Grace said as they headed for the SWAT squad leaders. “I’m sure I can get to all those hard-to-reach places for him.”
Kari laughed, even though Max didn’t think the younger beta was kidding.
While Cooper, Khaki, and Brooks watched the rest of the PT session, Max leaned back and zoned out, lost in thought about Lana and the Wallace kids.
He’d driven past the house on Park Lane this morning, even though he knew he was supposed to stay away. But that was hard to do. Fortunately, he hadn’t heard anything coming from inside that made him think there was a problem, but then again, it had only been five thirty in the morning. He’d take a victory where he could get it, he guessed.
He yawned. He was tired, but it was a good tired—the kind that comes from a long night of awesome sex. It had been better than amazing, and if he had any lingering doubts that Lana was The One for him, they were gone now. He was sure Lana felt the same way. After everything they’d talked about and the way she’d responded last night, Max couldn’t deny the obvious. Lana wasn’t simply hiding her nature. She really didn’t know she was a werewolf.
Max hadn’t had the chance to talk to Gage about it yet, but since only a traumatic event could flip the gene that turned a person into a werewolf, he was sure the car wreck Lana had been in was the event that had both changed her and stunted her development as a werewolf at the same time. He’d never heard of a werewolf going into a coma for as long as she had, and his mind whirled at the possibilities. Did she only partially turn because she’d been sixteen years old at the time, or had the drugs they’d given her after the accident somehow inhibited her initial transformation, allowing her to survive the wreck that had killed her friends but preventing her from healing herself as fast as other werewolves did?
“I’m heading in to shower before everyone else finishes,” Khaki announced, interrupting his daydreams as she stood and headed for the admin building.
“I think she did that so you could talk freely,” Cooper said, glancing at Max. “Khaki’s nice that way.”
He must have missed a vital part of the conversation. “Talk freely about what?”
Cooper and Brooks looked at him like he was a moron.
“Lana, of course,” Cooper said. “It’s obvious she has your head spinning. Even if you hadn’t ripped that dummy’s head off, Xander would probably have put you on the bench just to keep you from walking yourself off the top of one of the bigger obstacles out there on the course.”
Max opened his mouth to complain, but Brooks interrupted him. “And we know it’s not only Lana that has you tied up in knots. That stuff with the Wallace kids is messing you up, too. Look me in the face and tell me you haven’t driven by there at least once or twice in the past twenty-four hours.”
Max didn’t bother to deny either accusation. “Okay, so yeah, both those things are on my mind right now. It doesn’t mean I can’t do my job.”
“We never said differently.” Brooks frowned. “It’s just that you’re distracted. It’s understandable. Finding The One for you is reason enough to be more than a little preoccupied.”
Cooper snorted. “When I met Everly, it was like my head turned to mush. I can’t even count the number of bad decisions I made. So if being with Lana has you spinning right now, don’t feel bad. You’re in good company.”
“Lana and I are doing great,” Max admitted. “I mean, there’s hardly any stress at all. Sure, there’s the thing with her not knowing she’s a werewolf, but that’s not too bad. And then there’s my control issues.”
“What control issues?” Brooks asked. “You talking about something beyond occasionally flashing your fangs and claws?”
Max looked around, hoping the rest of the Pack was too intent on their game to hear any of this. “To tell the truth, my control has gotten worse since getting involved with Lana—and this domestic violence case. First, I just about choked Wallace to death. Then, I almost shifted in front of Lana last night when we were making love.”
“Choking Wallace I get,” Cooper said. “What do you mean, you almost shifted in front of Lana?”
Max shrugged. “Just that. I went full-on fangs and claws as we were getting busy. We had to do it doggy style just so she wouldn’t see—not that doggy style with Lana isn’t spectacular, but still.”
Cooper made a face. “Okay, that’s a bit of visual imagery I could definitely have done without.”
Brooks chuckled. “Where do you think this sudden lack of control is coming from? Is it simply the fact that Lana is The One for you or because she’s a werewolf, too, and that’s ramping up the pheromones? Then again, maybe it’s related to your own history with domestic violence. Could all this stuff with the Wallace kids have brought some deep-seated issues bubbling back to the surface?”
Max didn’t have a clue, and he wasn’t keen on digging too deeply into some of those areas to figure it out. “I don’t know. It could be all of the above—or none of them. All I can say for sure is that I almost frigging bit Lana last night. I can’t keep doing that.”
Brooks regarded him thoughtfully. “Have you ever considered talking to a professional about this, maybe the psychologist the DPD sent Cooper to—Hadley Delacroix?”
Max gaped. “Are you serious? What am I going to tell her, that I grow fangs and claws every time I start to make out with my girlfriend? Somehow I don’t see that working out.”
Brooks shrugged. “She seems to have helped Cooper a lot. He’s not nearly as psycho as he used to be.”
Max didn’t know about that. Cooper still seemed pretty psychotic to him most of the time.
“Brooks might be onto something,” Cooper said. “I still stop in to see her now and then when I need to talk. I could probably get her to see you, too, just to let you try it out. Hell, if we can get enough of the Pack to go with us, she might give us a bulk discount.”
Fortunately, Max didn’t have to reply because Gage came out of the admin building.
“We got a call, Sarge?” Max asked, hopping up from the bench.
“Sort of.” Gage grimaced. “Brooks, take Max and head out to that industrial loft in Deep Ellum we set up for our visiting werewolves. I think we might have a problem brewing out there.”
Brooks grunted and got to his feet. “This has the potential to be interesting.”
Interesting. That probably wasn’t the term Max would have used.
* * *
Lana rang the doorbell, hoping Brandy and Miriam were home. She sagged with relief when it opened. A pajama-clad Brandy stood
in the doorway regarding her sleepily, a pair of pink fuzzy slippers on her feet.
“I feel like crap, but you look like crap,” Brandy said, motioning her in. “Bad night?”
“Actually, the best night ever,” Lana said, keeping her voice down in case Miriam was still sleeping.
Brandy must have caught on because she shook her head. “Miriam went in early. One of the other nurses got sick and she’s covering for her in the ER.”
Lana headed straight for Brandy’s coffeemaker, thrilled to find the pot full and steaming away merrily. She grabbed two mugs out of the cabinet and fixed them both a strong cup of liquid sunshine.
“I stayed at Max’s place last night,” she said casually as she added just enough milk to keep the coffee from melting the inside of the mug. She never used to drink much coffee. The caffeine didn’t do a damn thing for her, but the act of holding a steaming cup of coffee always relaxed her. Plus, she simply liked the flavor, so she’d gotten into the habit.
She turned to see Brandy sitting at the kitchen table, a big smile on her face. “Were you two getting to know each other in the friendly manner or the biblical one?”
Lana handed Brandy one of the mugs, then sat across from her friend. She was having a hard time keeping the smile off her face as she remembered everything she’d done with Max last night. “Oh, definitely the biblical one.”
“And?” Brandy asked, leaning forward eagerly. “How was it on a scale of one to oh-my-God-stop-melting-my-panties?”
“Well, I’m not sure where it places on your scale, but I’ll probably just stop wearing panties altogether when I’m in Max’s presence. They’ll just end up in tatters anyway.”
“That good, huh?”
“Better,” Lana said. “It was simply incredible, and I don’t just mean the sex. This is going to sound positively insane, but I’m falling for this guy so fast it’s scary. It’s thrilling, too. It’s the most alive I’ve ever felt.”