“Do you know where she lives?”
“I don’t.”
“Last name?”
“Jensen?” Max looked at Gideon who shrugged. “Pretty common name.” He snapped his fingers. “You have Jackson’s car?” Max nodded. “He’s got a GPS in there and I’m betting he has her address programmed in. You know he has no sense of direction.”
“No kidding. Thanks.” Max headed toward the door…and had the strangest urge to lean in and kiss Gideon as he passed by, even felt his body slowing, the wolf begging for one final connection. Seizing control, Max held out his hand. “It was nice meeting you.” Gideon’s palm slid against his, strong and a little soft and damn if the image of those fingers stroking his naked chest, wrapping around his cock didn’t fill his mind.
What the hell is going on?
“Nice to meet you too.”
Max nodded and dropped his hand, practically lunging for the door. He had to get away. Maybe getting away from all people was a good idea.
He stepped into the hall and took a deep breath. The scent of food inundated the air and for the first time all night Max didn’t feel like he was inhaling pure sex. It helped, calming the animal inside him.
That had to be the problem. The wolf hadn’t been allowed to run in months. The animal was probably going a little crazy. Hmm, this was Alaska after all. There had to be a place Max could find to release his inner wolf.
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Setting the wolf free was almost mandatory if he wasn’t getting frequent sex. Which he had been up until the breakup with Dani. He closed his eyes and pictured his on-again, currently off-again lover. Talk, sleek, long straight black hair with nice round breasts that overflowed his hands…and why the hell wasn’t his wolf reacting? The damn thing should be leaping like a dog going for the fence.
A footstep on the tile floor forced him to open his eyes. Jackie, the bartender from earlier, walked toward him.
“Hi, you okay?”
“Uh yeah.”
She kept coming, close, a little too close. The smell of splattered alcohol coated her skin. Max forced his senses through the alcohol and tried to scent the woman beneath it.
She wore a floral perfume that made his nose itch and did nothing for his wolf. The animal stayed annoyingly silent. Damn, if it was just the need to fuck, any woman would do.
Unless his wolf had turned gay on him?
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“Uh thanks.” Jackie backed away and stalked down the hall, disappearing into the kitchen.
Great. Next time Jax comes in, she’ll probably poison his gin.
He was doing wonders for his brother’s life.
* * * * *
Mandy circled her couch. Again. She had things she should be doing—making notes about the night’s meeting, going through her father’s papers. Something. But she couldn’t sit. Couldn’t concentrate. Energy surged through her veins like electric pulses, spiraling through her body, igniting nerve endings until she thought she might explode.
She needed something to burn off the stress. And the random pacing around her living wasn’t helping. She needed something stronger, harder, faster.
Jackson. Her stomach dropped and she grabbed the back of the couch, keeping her knees steady. Oh yeah, that would be a way to burn off the energy.
Except no, Jackson was part of the problem.
What had he been thinking? He’d gone off plan. And it had been her plan.
In the end, it seemed to have worked—that arrogant “I’m not some weak ass accountant” persona appeared to resonate with Brian and Sean. That bad-boy image appealed to men and women it seemed.
But still—they’d had a plan going in. The point had been to get Brian and Sean to trust her, not make them adversaries.
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“What was he thinking?” Her irritation rang through her voice filling the empty room. He was supposed to be her support, but he’d challenged them, just by being there.
There had been something different about Jackson all night. Not just the attitude but the clothes and the kiss. He hadn’t been himself tonight.
She sighed. It was probably because he was dealing with guys like Brian and Sean.
Criminals. It no doubt called to some deep-seated macho part of him that he’d never known existed until now. Great. Now instead of just watching Sean and Brian, she was going to have to keep an eye on Jackson. Make sure he didn’t go too far. He’d never make it as a real crook. Didn’t have the constitution for it. The Jackson she knew was methodical, precise. Exacting. A good crook probably needed a reckless streak that Jackson lacked. He was the only person more organized than she.
She eyed her phone. She could call him.
Right, but are you calling him to yell at him or to see if his voice really sounded that deep and sexual? She closed her eyes and sank her hip against the back of the couch.
I’m going to be right there, fucking you, riding you hard. The memory filled her head and dropped down into her pussy. She slid her hand down her stomach to the vee between the thighs, letting her fingers flutter against her mound. Fucking you, riding you hard. She groaned and bit her lip. It had been well over two years since she’d been on a date. Longer than that that she’d had sex. Maybe the deprivation was finally getting to her.
Or maybe she’d finally found a man who tempted her to fulfill all those wicked fantasies. She clapped her hand across her forehead and moaned. Women like her didn’t get tied up or spanked or fucked by two men. Women like her had nice solid relationships that involved infrequent mediocre missionary position sex. At least that had been the pattern in the past and she didn’t see it changing anytime in the near future.
She had a good addition to her fantasies though—Jackson’s voice. She tipped her head back and licked her lips, the images coming at her hard and fast—Jackson standing before her, naked, commanding her to suck his cock. Or her, bent over the end of her bed, her ass—
Heavy steps on her front porch jolted her out of her dream. She spun around and stared at the door, knowing who was on the other side.
The man had his hand between your legs an hour ago. What did you expect? She demanded the answer from herself.
I expected him to lose interest. Or that it had all been part of the act.
The firm knock made her heart beat a little faster. She shook her head and pushed her shoulders back. Really. If it was Jackson on the other side of the door, he’d been here a dozen times. No reason to expect tonight would be any different.
Except she was wearing pajamas, no bra and he’d had his hands on her ass earlier in the evening.
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Lifting her chin to give herself a little boost of confidence, she walked to the door and peered through the peephole. Jackson. Looking strong and masculine and irritated.
Sexy. Why had she never seen this side of him before? She, of all people, should have noticed it.
She glanced down at her body. Not exactly seduction clothes. Long plaid flannel pajama bottoms and a lightweight Dallas Cowboys t-shirt had been her choice after a day in skirt and heels.
She glanced down. Her nipples pressed against the Cowboys logo.
Just as she was considering grabbing a coat to cover up her chest, Jackson knocked again, the annoyed twist of his mouth warning her he wasn’t going to give up. Well, good. Because she had some things to say to him.
Gathering her own irritation, she took in a bracing breath and opened the door.
Max pulled Jax’s car into the driveway. The house had been simple enough to find.
Gideon had been right. Jax had Mandy’s address programmed in. Her house wasn’t far from Jax’s place and looked a lot like it. Solid. Stable. Probably had a good resale value.
Mandy and Jackson obviously made a good match. They were similar in so many ways. Except for Mandy’s tendency to proposition crooks. Max didn’t understand what
had happened at the restaurant, but those guys were shady. That he would bet on. And living in Vegas, he knew how to tell a good bet from a bad one.
He started up the walkway, the words not quite set in his mind of what he was going to say. How he was going to explain he wasn’t Jackson.
I’m not Jackson. I’m his twin brother, Max.
It shouldn’t be that hard. He could even justify the deception. Once she heard that he’d thought Jax might be in danger, she’d probably accept it. She might be irritated but she’d get over it. She was his fiancée. She should have been worried too.
The only part he wasn’t quite sure he could justify was the whole hand up her skirt.
How did he explain that? You smell sweet and hot and I couldn’t resist the chance to touch that soft skin while imagining my face between your legs and licking your pussy until you screamed my name.
Yeah. That would work.
His fingers curled up into a fist and he squeezed, letting his knuckles turn white, fighting the growing cock in his jeans. Showing up with a hard-on wasn’t going to help the situation. Of course, if she’d looked down at all during the evening, she would have noticed he’d been half hard all night.
Just get this over with.
He raised his hand, hesitating just a moment, before rapping his knuckles against the wood. The wolf had been silent during much of the drive over so Max had weakened the hold on him, opening the cage to let the animal free. Now, so close to Mandy the wolf subtly pushed to foreground. Max barely noticed his vision turning 35
Tielle St. Clare
black and white. His ears practically twitched at the soft padding of her feet across the floor. The faint feminine scent grew stronger as she approached the other side of the door.
He waited, knowing she was inches away. Hesitating. He pressed his hand against the door, willing her to feel the heat, the need. The wolf growled and Max felt his muscles tighten, in preparation for breaking down the barrier to get to his woman.
Another moment passed and the doorknob turned.
The tension in his body shifted moving from fight to fuck. His feet moved almost without his command, driving him forward even as Mandy opened the door, the need to be next to her overwhelming societal conventions.
“Jackson—” Her yelp filled the space between them as she stumbled back, inadvertently clearing a path for him. Her arm flailed and he reacted, reaching out and grabbing, pulling her upright, hard against his body.
When he looked back later, he knew this would be the moment when it all went wrong. When he made the leap off the cliff and into heaven.
He slammed the door shut, blocking off any means of escape, closing out the world.
The perfume of her skin flooded his senses, binding him until he wanted to taste and touch. Only the vaguest sense of responsibility stalled him from spinning her around and fucking her against the wall.
Jackson’s woman. You’re just here to explain.
With that logical, conscientious voice in his head he found the strength to ease back.
He looked down, immediately meeting her gray eyes, made brighter by heady lust flowing through her veins. He could sense it, even as her cheeks turned a pale beautiful red.
He bit his lips together pressing hard to hide the extension of his teeth. The tight t-shirt clung to full, round breasts. Just like he’d imagined. The blue star logo muted the tight tips of her nipples. Baggy pajama bottoms hung from her hips and he knew with one quick pull he could have her naked. A frightening red fog pressed at the edges of his vision—hot and intense, sending a shaft of fear into his brain. This isn’t normal. Even as he thought the words, her lips opened, just a hint, just enough to tempt him. Ignoring the foreign presence hovering just beyond his control, he moved close, unable to stop his slow approach.
“Jackson?”
Her voice came out as a squeak but Max pushed the sound aside, making the noise insignificant in his brain. He bent down bypassing her lips and heading for the sweet line of her throat, the perfect stretch of muscle and blood, the pulse throbbing just beneath the skin. The pounding resounded through his head and dropped down into his cock.
He moved, not thinking, just acting. Taking what he needed.
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He clamped his hand down on her ass and pulled, drawing her close, rubbing that sweet cunt against his cock. A low growl erupted from this throat. The sweet curve of her ass led him down, until he could cup her thigh and pull, draping her leg around his hip. The sweetest gasp echoed through his ear, ringing into his cock.
“That’s it, honey.” The image from earlier—hell, the reality—of having her pressed against the wall, her pussy wet and hot, slick. Even without touching he knew, he could tell that she was ready. She could take him.
He ground his teeth together and drew back, fighting the beast inside him, straining every muscle.
And the faint, faded voice of conscience that nagged at the base of his skull.
He might have made it. Might have managed to pull back.
If only she hadn’t touched—her fingers stroking the taut muscles of his throat, almost scratching. As if she felt the same intense, vicious need. He stared down at her, those wide gray eyes flickering with lust and a hint of fear. The predator in him rose up, loving that bit of uncertainty, needing the chase. She would yield nicely to him.
Her lower lip trembled just a little, capturing his attention. The memory of her taste echoed through his senses and he needed more. He moved slow, not wanting to startle her, bending to brush his lips against her. Not a kiss. Just a breath, savoring the anticipation running through her veins. The hand at his neck gripped the collar of his leather jacket, as if she was using his strength to keep herself still. To resist the flight instinct.
A low rumble came from his throat, the sound more of a purr than a growl. The shy exterior hid a hunger, a need, that resonated in him.
Unable to deny himself any longer, he pressed closer, his body moving to trap her, pressing her back against the wall, his hands locked on her hip and ass.
He tilted his head to the side and pressed his mouth against hers, lips open, the need to taste building. Her tongue met his as he dipped inside, a tentative welcome that only made the wolf crave more. He groaned. The memory had been weak, insignificant to the reality of tasting her again. He drove his tongue into her mouth, conquering with the kiss. Her fingers tightened, every muscles tensing. For a moment he thought he’d pushed too far. Then a soft whimper, filled with hunger, slipped from her throat. She twirled her tongue around his and fell into the kiss. She matched him, giving as good as she got and then submitting, allowing him to take and lick and linger over every point in her mouth.
His cock throbbed, the persistent need exploding with the simple touch of her lips on his.
Fuck. There had to be something going wrong with his wolf. The full moon so close.
The animal too long constrained. Something because he shouldn’t be this hard from a single kiss. The brief moment of clarity evaporated as she moaned, her fingers biting into his arms. Heat tempted him, drawing him in, deeper, until he was surrounded.
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The red at the edges of his vision turned bright but didn’t overtake his senses. The still functional corner of his brain guided his body, leading him to where he needed to be.
He pressed against her, grinding his cock against her pussy, feeling the wet soak through her pajama bottoms, dampening his jeans. The fluid scent filled the air, clinging to his skin. He growled, wanting that perfume all over his body.
He sank his fingers in to her hair and tugged pulling her head back until she looked up at him. Her lips were already red from his kisses, open and wet.
This was the second time he’d had her in this position tonight and there was no one to interrupt. No one to stop him. He rolled his hips, pulsing against her clit, moving one hand to cup her breast, squeezing the full mound, testing
her.
A delicious sound caught in the back of her throat. Good. She liked a strong touch.
Her nipple pressed into his palm and he pulled back rubbing a circle around the tight peak. Her back arched and she arched forward, the line of her body curving and moving, wanting more.
Leaving his hips pressed against her, he leaned back, watching his hand on her breast, the blue star on her chest moving with each breath.
He growled. “This isn’t going to work.”
She blinked and looked up, confusing snapping the desire from her stare.
“Wha—?”
He shook his head, fighting a grin.
“I hate the Cowboys.” He grabbed the top of her t-shirt and pulled, ripping the material in two.
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Chapter Four
Her offended gasp gave him a moment’s pause but then he looked at her naked tits.
The remnants of cloth were immediately forgotten. He dropped the edges and cupped her breasts, his large hands still barely able to hold the full weight, thumbs moving to the nipples, tight and begging for his mouth. The ugly suit she’d worn at dinner had completely hidden her curves. Now they were visible, available. His to touch. Suck.
He wrapped his arm around her back and arched her up, drawing those beautiful breasts up to his mouth. He bent lifting the tip to his lips. A restrained gasp shattered the silence. He growled, the sound muffled against her skin. He wanted her to be lost in him, submersed to the point of drowning, so consumed by his fucking that she couldn’t control her reactions. He swirled the tip of his tongue around her nipple one more time then drew the peak into his mouth, slow, monitoring every reaction, absorbing it.
Gentlemanly restraint battled with hunger. Hunger won. He sucked her nipple into his mouth, loving the shivers coursing down her spine, the delicious moan that slipped from her throat. Her hips rocked against his. He wanted to linger, to spend hours teasing and tasting her pretty tits but the lure of her pussy was too strong. The need to sample her flesh—and the wolf’s desires—overpowered him. With another whispered kiss to her nipples, he slid his hands down, the smooth curves of her hips captivating him.
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