by Renee Rose
“How do you know?”
“I can smell it if he lies.”
I shiver.
“Baby, go wait in the cabin.”
When Tank comes in to get me, he’s on the phone with someone named Jackson, reading off the address the thug gave us. “You can text me what you find.”
I follow him out, and he motions for me to get in the truck. The thug is already in, the black bag behind my seat. “All right. Thanks.”
“Who was that?” I ask when he hangs up.
“Friends. They’re good at digging stuff up on the Internet. They’re gonna look deeper and tell me what’s going on.”
“Werewolves?”
“Yeah, but not pack.”
“You’re helping a lot,” I say as Tank climbs in.
He grunts and rummages around the scary black bag. I hold my breath, but he only tosses me a protein bar.
“Thanks. Got any water?”
Tank offers a bottle up but pulls it away when I reach for it.
“We’re not stopping until Flagstaff,” he warns.
I grin. “I just peed, but thanks for the warning.” He rolls his eyes while I smirk, but I only take a few sips from the bottle before closing it up. No sense stopping while we have a drugged guy in the back.
We’re off the main route now, taking back roads. Trees whip by. How many wolves roam this national forest? Coyotes? Foxes?
“You said before that my fox is shy?” I ask.
“I think she hid until she knew it was safe to come out.”
“How did she know it was safe?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Was it because she sensed your wolf? Or was scared of your wolf?”
More miles go by. Tank’s profile doesn’t change. Apparently, threatening a thug and going to save my mother isn’t the bonding experience I thought it was. If anything, he looks more closed off.
“Look,” I sigh, “I know you hate me, but—”
“I don’t hate you.”
“You think I’m annoying, then.”
His head jerks no.
“Then what is it? Why won’t you talk to me?”
“It’s better this way,” he mutters.
I put my hand on his leg, and he catches my wrist. Shards of glass pierce my gut. I try to hide it, but Tank glances over, and his grip softens as he reads my disappointment.
“Baby, it’s not you,” he says. “It’s just better if we don’t get involved.”
“Tank, we’re driving to my mom’s in Flagstaff with a thug in the back. You spent the night last night. You saw me shift for the first time, stood up to my ex, and showed me a werewolf safe house.” I sit back in a huff. “It’s too late to not be involved.” I free my hand and do air quotes around involved.
He shakes his head, but his lips turn up a little. My little rant made him smile.
“What’s so wrong about us being involved anyway?”
Wrong question. Every bit of warmth leaves the cabin. Tank might as well have turned to stone.
“Tank?”
“It’s not safe,” he says.
“What’s not safe? You and me?” I snort. “That’s ridiculous. You’re the safest guy I know.”
“No I’m not.”
“Are you telling me I’m in danger? I can’t see you hurting a woman.”
“Not any woman. I’m only dangerous to you.”
“What?”
He mumbles something, and I lean forward. “I didn’t catch that.”
“My wolf is attracted to you.”
Ahhh. If I were a cat, I’d purr. “Your wolf? Or you?”
I put my hand on his leg, again.
“Stop it,” he says. But he doesn’t push it away.
“I never thanked you for helping me. I’d be a mess without you.”
“You are a mess.”
I laugh, but it’s a harsh, bitter sound. “The word you’re looking for is freak.”
“You’re not a freak.” He frowns.
~.~
Tank
Foxfire cocks her head to the side as she studies me. I wonder what she sees. “You think I’m cute, though.”
I shake my head.
“Oh, come on. You like me. Admit it.”
“No.”
Disappointment rumples her face. Immediately, I want to take it back. But what am I going to say? Annoy me all you want, baby. Just be ready to face the consequences. Fuck. The thought of pinning her down and teaching her to yield has my cock painfully pressing against my jeans.
Miles pass. Foxfire looks out the window, despondent.
“You’re way beyond cute,” I admit. “You’re blazing hot.”
“Really?” She brightens.
“Yeah. I’m trying very hard to keep my wolf from throwing you down and fucking you senseless.”
“Awesome,” she breathes. Totally mental. “I knew you wanted me.” She gazes at me, head cocked to the side.
“What?” Her look makes me nervous.
“How about right now?” she asks. She puts her hand on my thigh and slides it up slowly. The truck swerves, and I grip the steering wheel harder.
“What? No.”
But she’s undone her seat belt and is sliding off her seat.
“Foxfire. No. Get back. I mean it.”
“I never thanked you for helping me,” she purrs. Leaning forward, she undoes the button on my jeans.
My cock leaps. Fuck, am I going to let her do this? We’re on a back road in the middle of the national forest, no cars in sight, but still. The chances of me smashing the car into a tree the second she touches me are through the roof.
Small hands tug at my jeans. I shift to accommodate her fingers before I know what’s happening.
I slow, but there’s no shoulder on this stretch of road. Meanwhile, she grips my cock.
Fuck. This is happening.
“I can’t,” I rasp. Can’t stay in control. Can’t drive the truck and have her sweet little mouth on my dick. Can’t keep from fucking her senseless. I catch her wrist in a firm grip, not too tight. I don’t want to hurt her.
“Please, big man,” she whispers, and I almost swerve off the road.
She gazes up at me from her knees, her slender fingers stroking my dick.
“Please.” She licks her lips. “I want it so bad. Let me give this to you.”
As if any male alive could ever deny her when she begs like that. Her sweet little nipples are hard as she pleads for my cock. She leans close and blows her hot breath over my manhood. My balls tighten to the point of pain. I’m so fucking hard. I’ve been hard ever since I first saw her.
The road widens ahead. Thank fuck. I roll to a stop and lift my hips. “All right. Take it out.”
She jacks my cock slowly. Her small hand barely fits around it.
I put the truck in park and grip her hair. If we do this, we do this my way. “I want your mouth on me.”
“Okay, Daddy.” It’s so twisted that she calls me that, but my wolf fucking loves it. He wants to take care of her, protect her, show her what it means to be her daddy—in the dominant boyfriend sense, not the fatherly sense.
She dives forward, swallowing my cock in her hot mouth. Just the right amount of pressure, tongue lolling. It’s perfect, but I want to see how far she’ll let me go, how she responds to the dominant side of me.
I tug her hair and pull her off. “Lick up and down.”
“Yes, Daddy-o,” she breathes. Okay, that’s definitely wrong. But fuck if it doesn’t get me harder. She licks me with lots of tongue, following my direction. She has an eager little mouth. I wanna make this last as long as possible. But she’s not making it easy.
“Suck me,” I order.
“Mmmm.” She suctions her lips around my width and pulls more vigorously, sliding down my pole.
Totally submissive. My wolf is going wild. He wants to mark her right now, right here.
She’s the one, he howls.
“That’s right baby, tak
e it far as you can go.”
She swallows me deep then pulls off, gasping.
“Good girl.” I stroke her hair. I let her take her time before she tries again.
I slip a hand into her shirt, pushing down her bra to cup her tit. She’s soft and warm, her tits a perfect handful. I brush my thumb over her nipple, and she shifts restlessly.
I squeeze her breast. “Suck me.”
Her head bobs up and down in rhythm.
“That’s it, baby. I’m close.”
She applies herself with more vigor.
“Touch my balls. Cup them.” She does, lightly fondling them. They tingle and tighten.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come. You ready, baby?”
I expect her to pop off, but she keeps sucking frantically. “Mmhmm,” she agrees.
Fuck. Fuck. My sac tightens. Lights explode behind my eyes.
Foxfire. Fuck.
I pump into her mouth. She swallows it down, greedy little noises escaping.
“Fuck, baby,” I gasp. “That was good.”
She smiles up at me, a little angel with messy rainbow hair. Her lips glisten.
She’s so goddamn fucking beautiful. I want to lay her out on my car hood, open her legs, and return the favor.
“Any time,” she says just as a siren flares behind us. Blue and red lights flood the car.
The cops. Fuck.
~.~
Foxfire
Uh oh.
I slip into my seat wiping my mouth. That was so hot, I could’ve come just from sucking him. Insane.
Tank zips his pants, still cursing. The cop is getting out of the car.
“Seatbelt,” Tank orders as he gets his registration and driver’s license ready. I buckle myself in, wondering how obvious I look with my wet lips and disheveled hair. Whatever. Worth it.
I put on my innocent face as the cop approaches. Hopefully, the thug doesn’t wake up, and the cop won’t decide he wants to search the covered truck bed.
We just have to act natural.
“Hi, Officer.” I wave as the trooper leans in at the window.
Tank’s jaw clenches, but he says nothing.
“You run into some trouble, son?”
“No.” Tank doesn’t look at the trooper. His hand flexes on the steering wheel. The cop’s eyes narrow as he takes in the tattoos, the giant muscles and lack of respect for authority.
“No trouble at all,” I trill, smoothing my hair. “It’s totally my fault we had to pull over.” The trooper fixes his eyes on me. “Um… I dropped a contact. It’s silly, but I went down to look for it. He pulled over to help me.” I flutter my lashes. The cop looks from me to Tank and back again. “So, it’s my fault. He wasn’t too happy at first,” I whisper like I’m letting the cop in on a secret. “I kinda lose them a lot.” I shrug, cock my head to the side, and giggle. Cute, clueless, manic pixie dream girl—that’s me!
“You need to keep your seatbelt on, miss.”
“Oh I know,” I nod, my eyes big. “He wouldn’t let me go down until he pulled over.”
Tank sighs on cue. I see the moment the cop starts to feel sorry for him, but also a little envious.
“Anyway, he’s cranky,” I babble on. “I promised I’d cook him a big dinner, but it looks like we’ll have to do drive through instead. I’ll have to make it up to him later.” Another shrug and clueless giggle.
Now the trooper is fighting a grin. He glances at Tank’s credentials and hands them right back. “This shoulder is for broken down cars only. You’d better move on now.”
“Okay, thank you, Officer.” I nod, my hair bouncing around my shoulders.
The trooper pats the side of the truck with his hand. “You drive safe.”
“Yes,” Tank mumbles, not quite deferential.
“Thanks, so much.” I wave hard enough to jiggle my boobs.
As soon as the trooper is back in his car, I sag back in my seat. Crisis averted. No thanks to the sullen werewolf next to me.
“He was cute,” I say as Tank pulls onto the road. He casts me a glare on me that could turn a lesser being to stone.
I just smile. “But not really my type.” I replace my hand on his thigh, stroking the hard muscle through his jeans.
He shakes his head. “Baby, you are big trouble.”
“Mmm hmm. You gonna punish me?”
He looks over, disbelieving, like it’s way too soon for me to make jokes. His eyes slide down. My bra cup are still under my boobs, pushing them up into some nice cleavage. The straps have slid half down my arms.
No wonder the cop let us off easy.
“I’m definitely punishing you, baby.” His tone makes me shiver.
I go to adjust my bra, and Tank growls. “Leave it.”
All righty then. Something tells me whatever punishment is, it’s gonna be hot. Even if Tank can be a little scary. I’m not worried.
Besides, his expression of bliss when he came in my mouth… Worth it.
Chapter Six
Tank
I stop briefly, to drop the sleeping thug off in the woods behind a gas station. I leave some extra cash in the guy’s wallet and prop him against a tree.
Foxfire’s quiet as I turn the truck in the direction of the last-known whereabouts of her mother’s trailer.
I can’t figure out how she makes me do such crazy things. Like letting her blow me while I’m driving. With a mob enforcer in the bed of the truck. And a suspicious cop ready to look in the window.
Fates, it’s a goddamn miracle I’m not in a jail cell right now for kidnapping and assault. My dad always warned me, “Females are our downfall. Mark my words, son, so you don’t find out the hard way.” He didn’t mention how he learned the hard way. He didn’t have to.
“There it is.” Foxfire sits up straight, pointing to the silver bullet-shaped trailer on the edge of national forest land. “But her vehicle isn’t there, so I don’t think she’s home.”
“Seriously?” I mutter. The trailer has a field of poppies painted on its side. Granted, the poppies are beautiful—very intricate and artistic—but still. Foxfire’s mom is a total hippie. Now I know where Foxfire got the crazies.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. How long has she been here?”
“A few years. She likes the energy.” Foxfire goes to open her door, but I motion for her to stop.
“Wait here, baby.”
For once, she doesn’t give me any lip.
I approach cautiously, sniffing the air. Incense, lavender or some other hippie oils. Normal human smells, blended with the wilderness scent. But something else. Cigarette ash.
“Is your mom a smoker?” I ask when I go back to the truck.
“You mean, like, pot?”
“Tobacco.”
“No way.”
“When did you last see her?”
Foxfire thinks for a bit. “Maybe last Thanksgiving? Or the year before that. Wait, what year is it?”
“Never mind.”
I open her door.
“Thank you.” Her cheeks color. Her nipples press against her shirt. I’ve got to get her thicker clothes. No one should see that sweet body but me.
Not that I’m claiming her.
She grabs a jacket out of her bag and tugs it on. She’s still in her Daisy Dukes, so she looks fully ridiculous. And hot.
As we approach the trailer, the door creaks open.
“Mom?” Foxfire calls.
I hold out my hand to stop her. “Does she usually leave it wide open?”
“Not usually, but she rarely locks it. Says anyone who steals from her needs it more than she does.” Foxfire shrugs. “She doesn’t own much.”
Lots and lots of windchimes, and dream catchers hung from the awning and in the trees around.
I walk inside. The place is a wreck. Not just messy, but trashed. I’m about to ask Foxfire if this is typical of her mom’s housekeeping, when she lets out a sob.
“Mom?”
We search
, but no one is there. I try to get a scent of the place, but it’s too clogged with the smell of burnt sage. I cough and step outside to clear my head. That’s when I notice what’s in the dirt beside the door.
Boot prints.
“Does your mom have a man?” I ask Foxfire when she wanders out. “Someone who smokes?”
“She’d never date a smoker. She hates Big Tobacco.”
I show her the prints with the cigarette ash. “Someone was here.”
“They came for her, like they came for me. She’s in trouble, Tank. I know she is.”
“Maybe not. You said her car isn’t here, right? Maybe she’s hiding somewhere.” I wrap my arms around her. I want to comfort her, but all I can think about is how Foxfire is with me, safe, when she would otherwise be in danger.
It takes me a moment to realize she’s pushing at my chest.
“Let me go,” she says, and takes all the space I give her. She wraps her arms around herself and walks away.
Damn, she blames me. I kept her from getting the phone call from her mom last night.
“Foxfire—” I jog to catch her arm, but she twists it out of my grasp.
I release her, let her scuttle away. I don’t want to hurt her. I want to comfort her.
“Leave me alone,” she snaps, and runs toward the pine trees.
“Foxfire, no.” I use every ounce of alpha command I can muster. She can’t turn into a fox. Not here—there are cars zooming by just a few hundred feet away.
I find her facing a tree, her fists clenched.
“Come on,” she whispers. “Come on.”
She’s calling on her fox, but her animal won’t give her release. Not until I allow it.
“Foxfire, it’s okay. We’ll find her.”
“She’s my mom. She’s the only family I have. If something happened to her, I have no one. No one. I’m all alone.”
“Hush.” I pull her into my arms, scoop her up to carry her back to the truck. Without thinking, I kiss her temple. “You have me.”
~.~
Foxfire
I watch mom’s trailer disappear behind us as we drive away. It’s chilly, but that’s not why I’m shivering.
I couldn’t shift. My fox sits inside me, waiting, but she wouldn’t come out and let me escape my panic for a moment.