Chapter Two

 

Foxfire

 

As the doorbell echoes through my house, the big guy pinning me to the floor shifts so he’s holding most of his weight instead of smooshing me into the hardwood. Which is pretty considerate of him. I appreciate that sort of consideration, even in a man who burst into my house under the false pretense of pizza.

The doorbell rings again.

“Well?” My words come out muffled under his hand. “Are you going to get that?”

He moves his hand. “Are you going to behave?”

I lick my lips, and his gaze snaps to my mouth. He moves again, and suddenly I’m very aware of his impressive manhood pressed against my foxy bits. He’s a big boy. Very big.

Oh my god, are we having a moment? I stare up at him. Strong jaw, firm lips. Heavily muscled body pressed to mine.

My tongue darts out to lick my lips, and his eyes follow every move. The weapon in his pants jumps against my leg.

I try to wriggle out from under him, and his grip tightens, reminding me that he’s a foot taller and a helluva lot stronger than I am. I could scream, but that might put the delivery man in jeopardy. And I’m pretty sure it would make Mr. Wrestling Champ mad. The result: bad things. For me, for the delivery man, probably for Amber. And I won’t get pizza.

For some reason, I'm not afraid of him. He smells...right. When it comes to people, I tend to trust my sense of smell. As weird as that sounds, it works.

Besides, I'm Foxfire Hines. I'm not afraid of anything, except toilet snakes.

The doorbell chimes again.

“I’ll behave,” I say, “If you pay for the pizza. But only because I care about Amber. And I’m hungry.”

“You mean it?”

“Pinky swear?” He’s pinned my wrists to the floor by my head, but I still can wriggle my baby finger.

The dude studies me a moment. I smile all sweet and innocent. Trustworthy.

He sighs and rises. “No funny business.” He points a warning finger at me. “I’m not here to hurt you, but if you cause trouble, I will punish you.”

My foxy bits quiver. I’m not turned on, no way. My nipples tent my top because it’s cold. I wrap my arms around myself, just in case.

My giant unwanted guest is at the door, exchanging bills for a white-and-red square box. Not screaming was the right call. The delivery man isn’t nearly as big and tall, and hasn’t hit the gym in a while. Mr. Muscles looks like he lives in one, and sleeps on a bench press machine in between reps.

“Don’t forget the tip,” I call.

A scowl, and my unwanted guest angles away from me. Yowza. The back is just as tight as the front.

I must have zoned out a little perving on the guy, because the next thing I know he’s coming back toward me, pizza box in one hand, catching my elbow and propelling me to the couch with the other.

“Sit,” he orders, and I do. As soon as my butt hits the couch, I reach for the pizza.

“Not so fast. First, we talk.”

“This is cruel and unusual punishment,” I blurt.

He gives me another what the hell? look, which I easily ignore. I get those a lot.

“Well, it is unusual. And cruel. I’m hungry.”

“I’m gonna feed you. I need to ask you some questions first.” He puts the pizza in front of me on the coffee table and props his boot on the edge between me and the object of my desire. Of course, this gives me a full on view of his crotch, displaying another potential object of my desire.

No! Bad Foxfire!

“Your friend’s been talking about us. I’m here to see how much you know.”

“Us? Who’s us?” Reluctantly, I raise my eyes to his face. Now that I think of it, he does look familiar. Another neighbor of Amber’s? Garrett’s whole gang seems to live in the apartment building he owns. “I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Tank.”

Tank. I don’t question the weird name. Pot, kettle and all that. Besides, don’t gang members all get badass nicknames when they go through initiation? I’d ask him, but I doubt he’s up to fielding questions about gang life. And since he’s built like, well, a tank, I’m going to let him get his way.

For now.

“All right, Mr. Tank—”

“Just Tank.”

“Just Tank,” I correct, and he closes his eyes in frustration. Excellent. “What do you want to know?”

He takes a deep breath. “Earlier today you confronted Garrett outside Amber’s apartment. You accused him of being a werewolf.”

“Yeah? So?”

“I need to know what she told you about us.”

“She didn’t tell me anything. We were talking about her bad date. You guys were just mentioned in passing.”

“What exactly did she say?”

“I can’t tell you that. It would break the girl code.”

“Miss Hines,” he growls.

“Call me Foxfire.”

“Miss Hines.” His voice gets even more deep and growly, “I don’t think you understand how serious this is. Amber learned some things about us, and was sworn into confidence by our leader, Garrett. Because she talked, she could be in trouble.”

“I thought you said she was okay.”

“We don’t like outsiders talking about us. Her level of punishment depends on how much she told.”

There was that word again. Punishment. I love it a little too much.

“You motorcycle types are pretty intense.” I don’t call them a gang because maybe that’s offensive. Or maybe it isn’t because they definitely are a gang. A bunch of big dangerous guys covered in matching tattoos, riding motorcycles, sticking close together, and following some sort of bro code. Their leader owns a bunch of businesses, and they all work for him. I haven’t heard a whiff of criminal activity, but I’m not going to ask.

“Just tell me what Amber told you.”

The jingling of little bells interrupts us.

“Is this your phone?” Tank picks it up before I nod. He closes his fist around it and squeezes. When he opens his hand, pieces of cell phone fall to the floor.

“Whoa,” I breathe, staring at the pieces.

“You need to start paying attention, Miss Hines. I’m here to find out what you know, and neither of us is going anywhere until I’m satisfied.”

 

~.~

 

Tank

 

“That was so cool!” she squeaks. “You crushed my phone with your bare hands.” She stops and wrinkles her nose. “Wait… that was my phone.”

I can only shake my head. “Yeah, princess. Until I get what I want, you’re not going anywhere or talking to anyone.”

“Can I have pizza?”

“Talk, first. Then pizza.”

“Amber didn’t tell me anything about you guys.”

“You called Garrett a werewolf.”

“Yeah, because that’s what you’re called.”

Fuck. I fold my arms over my chest. “Amber told you we were werewolves.”

“Yeah.”

“And you believed her?”

“Um yeah. You’re in a gang. It’s your name. You can call yourself whatever you want, as far as I’m concerned. The Jets, the Sharks, the Werewolves… the Deranged Iguanas… whatever you think makes you badass, crewcut.”

I swipe my fingers across my eyes. This chick has no idea how close she is to getting that cute little ass of hers spanked. And my dick thinks that’s an awesome idea.

“So that’s why you came down here?” she scoffs. “To ask me what I knew about your gang?”

“Tell me what you know.”

“I know you ride motorcycles.” She ticks off on her fingers. “A bunch of you live next to Amber, my best friend. Your leader tried to seduce her, and failed, miserably, when he abandoned her halfway through their first date.”

“Is that all?”

“A bunch of you have moon tattoos on your knuckles.” She sneers. “Werewolf and full moon. Very original. You also own Club Eclipse. You stick to a theme, I’ll give it to you. There.” She throws her hands up in the air. “That’s all I got. You came all this way to shake me down?”

“We don’t like people digging into our private business.”

“Well, I don’t like jerks dating my friends. I don’t care if Garrett the Wolfman owns half the property around here. He can’t treat my friend that way.”

I raise a brow. “Or what?”

She scoots forward and sticks a finger in my face. “I will end him.”

I bite back a grin. She shakes the finger and I mock snap at it. She yanks her hand back with a yelp. Finally. A little fear.

“Very funny.” She folds her arms across her chest, matching my own pose.

“Garrett would never hurt Amber.”

“There are a lot of ways to get hurt,” Foxfire says. “Only one of those is physical.”

I incline my head. “You’re right. I can see you’re no threat to our organization. We don’t want to cause trouble, but as you said, Garrett owns a lot of property, and he doesn’t want someone spreading slander about him.”

“Well, I’m sorry Garrett got his panties in a bunch. I didn’t realize he was so sensitive.”

Insulting my alpha again. If she were mine, she’d be over my knee so fast… hell, I’d be dizzy. I’ve never met someone so in need of a spanking in my life. “Watch it.”

“You watch it.” She glares at me.

Unbelievable. “You’re five-foot nothing, and you think you can take me?”

“I’m five five!”

“Yeah,” I snort. “In five-inch heels.” I don’t know why I’m riling her up. My errand may as well be over. Garrett might want me to call a bloodsucker to mind-wipe her, but that can fuck up a person. I don’t think she deserves that. Even if she has poor taste in hair dye.

“I can’t believe you—you—”

“Careful.” I can’t believe I have to warn this chick off of picking a fight with me. My wolf could eat her in one bite. Not that he would. I’m more interested in eating her a different way. After I warm her pretty ass.

Her face goes red.

“Sit down, Foxfire,” I order.

She drops to the couch. Very responsive. The spunky attitude is all bluster—and who can blame her? She lives alone, her best friend is a workaholic stick-up-her-ass lawyer. It’s Saturday night, and the Princess of La La Land is all alone.

“Obviously, we made a mistake.” Garrett might not want to let her off this easily, but I’m not letting a bloodsucker touch her. We can find another way to keep her quiet. Not that she knows anything, but despite the smart mouth, she actually has a brain. If Garrett keeps sniffing around Amber, it might be only a matter of time that she realizes the truth.

“I gotta make a call. Eat your pizza.” I flip the pizza box open and leave her to it, heading to a private corner to call my alpha. It rings a few times and goes to voicemail.

“Hey, boss,” I lower my voice. “I’m at the girl’s place. She doesn’t know anything. Thinks we’re some sort of motorcycle gang who call ourselves the Werewolves.” I take a deep breath. I want to say I think we should leave her alone, but something stops my tongue. My wolf. He wants to hang around her more.

“I’ll keep an eye on her until you call, see if I can get her to open up more.”

I check my messages and texts, but there’s nothing from the pack. I could try Trey and Jared, but at this point, they had to be in Mexico, or close to it. I should be with them, going after our lost packmate, rather than babysitting Little Miss Looney Tunes. Now that I’m in her place, I smell marijuana, although none of the stink is on her. She’s not doing drugs. She’s this whacked out on her own.

The sooner my alpha calls and orders me away from her, the better. My wolf doesn’t agree, which makes it all the more true.

She’s still sitting on the couch, watching me with wide eyes. The pizza lies untouched before her. “Where’s Amber?”

“She’s safe. Nothing’s going to happen to her.”

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?”

“Behave, and I’ll let you talk to her. Right now she’s busy.”

Foxfire glares at me.

“She’s with Garrett.”

“Garrett? That jackhole?”

I growl. “Don’t insult him.”

“He left my girl on the side of a mountain.”

“He had his reasons.” He was about go moon mad in public. “Amber was fine.”

“Yeah, because I came and got her. If he seduces her again and breaks her heart, guess who’s picking up the pieces? Me.”

“Your girl is fine. She’s totally safe. We thought she broke some rules, but Garrett is handling it.”

“Rules? Geez you guys are anal for a gang.”

“You have no idea.” I really want to give her a taste of who’s boss between the two of us. But that’s not part of the job. Too bad. Wolves discipline their mates. My wolf likes the idea of punishing her as much as my dick.

“Go ahead and eat.” I motion to her.

She stares at me. “You’re going to stay here?”

I nod.

“For how long?”

Until I know you’re not a threat to the pack. “As long as I want to.” She’s breathing hard, her little shoulders rising and falling with anger. Her breasts stir under her shirt. The sight does interesting things to my cock. “You dye your hair?”

“No,” she sneers. “It comes out this way naturally.”

I can’t help it. I laugh. She’s too ridiculous.

I sit on the other end of the couch.

She stares at me like she’s weighing the odds between cooperating and fighting back. For all I know, in a minute she might decide it’s a good idea to try to push me off the couch.

I stretch out my legs. I’m six three, 255 pounds of muscle. Plus, werewolf strength. In a wrestling match, I know who’ll win. I almost hope she tries.

She comes to a decision and gives me a bright smile.

“Want some pizza?”

La La Land.

 

~.~

 

Foxfire

 

Tank blinks at me. He’s pretty nice for a gang enforcer. Too big and muscly for his own good. Obviously not used to someone standing up to him.

He’s in for a big surprise.

“I got supreme.” I reach for a slice. “I figure, I need to eat healthy, so I should get veggie, but then I crave meat. So I just get supreme and tell myself I’ll pick off anything unhealthy. I hate olives so I just pick them off. You’re welcome to half.”

“Okay,” he says slowly.

“I didn’t poison it.” I say before taking a big bite. I chew, swallow, and grin. “You didn’t give me enough time.”

He freezes as he’s reaching for the pizza. I smile wider, showing all my teeth.

I’ve decided to cooperate. In my own, fantastic Foxfire way. I’m going to act silly and clueless until he realizes his mistake. But I’m not letting him off easy. I’m going to make him pay. He’s going to regret the day he messed with me. I’m going to drive him crazy.

In the meantime, pizza.

I polish off three pieces before I slow down. God, I was hungry. I’ve watched Tank the whole time. He looks familiar…

“I know where I saw you. You’re the bouncer at Eclipse.”

“And you’re the chick who can’t hold her liquor.”

“I’m in the middle of a bad breakup. I’m allowed to overindulge.” I gesture at him with my crust. “You’d better eat something, if you want any.”

With a shake of his head, he reaches again for his first slice. He inhales it, reaches for a second, folds it onto a third slice to make a pizza sandwich, and eats it that way. Within minutes, he’s decimated half the pie.

“Dude. Want me to order another?”

He shakes his head.

I study him further. Motorcycle boots, jeans, tee-stretched over his stunning Hercules physique. He carries the smell of motor oil, and something else—a scent like cinnamon spice, not unpleasant. I have a pretty good sense of smell. In the past, I’ve decided not to date guys, or take on clients, because they didn’t smell right. Just another odd thing about me.              

As big as he is, and as much as he’s tried to intimidate me, he seems pretty reserved. His movements are careful, controlled. I can’t see him hurting a woman. Maybe that’s why I felt so comfortable pushing his buttons from the start.

“What?” he asks, and I realize I’ve been staring for over a minute.

“Nothing.” I muster innocence.

“So how did you become a Werewolf?”

He almost chokes. “What?”

“I assume you weren’t born riding a motorcycle. When did you join the gang?”

He clears his throat. “Not a gang. A club.”

“Oh,” I tilt my head to the side. “A club. Like the Mouseketeers?”

“No.”

“Do you have a cheer?”

“No.” He rubs his forehead.

“So, can women become Werewolves? I’ve always wanted to learn how to ride a motorcycle.”

“We don’t call ourselves that. At least, not in public.”

“Right. You just have moon tattoos and wolves painted on your bikes.”

He glares at me, and I raise my hands in defense.

“What? You stick to a theme, like I said. I admire that. If you didn’t want your name to be obvious you shouldn’t all hang out at Club Eclipse.” Tank’s expression is carefully blank, but I can see I’m getting to him. Good. “Does Garrett lead some sort of Monster Mash dance every full moon? ’Cause you should. In fact, that could be your initiation. A line dance to “Thriller.”

He shakes his head.

“No? Then how do people join?”

“You can’t join. You have to be sponsored.”

“Who sponsored you?”

“My dad.”

“He’s in the club?”

“Yeah.” He looks away, as if he didn’t mean to give me that little tidbit.

“Oh, nice. A family affair.” I smile sweetly, and his jaw clenches. He’s practically grinding his teeth.

Excellent.

“So, if I get a motorcycle, would you be my sponsor?”

“No.”

“No? I have a lot to offer a club. I can make a mean margarita. And margarita flavored cupcakes.”

“No.”

“I can fix the club’s website. I’ve been there, and it is dire.”

“You’ve been looking into us?”

Oops. He’s all tense again, so I shrug. “Your little leader is dating my best friend. I did some digging.” He glares and I raise my hands. “Relax. Everything I found was legit. Except the website. A color scheme like that should be outlawed. Hey, if you let me go, I’ll fix it for you at a friends and family discount.”

“You do websites?”

“Yep. It’s part of my business. Online marketing and branding. Here, I’ll show you.” I jump up. He rises, too, and I wave my hand. “I’m just getting my laptop.”

“Don’t take too long,” he orders.

“I’m not going to escape out the window.” Not yet anyway. Not if I can chase him off some other way. “How long did you say you were staying again?”

“As long as it takes.”

“If you want something to drink, help yourself. I have water and water.”

I grab my computer. Before I return, I stick my head into the bathroom and brush my teeth. I fluff my hair and apply some lip gloss. Not that I’m going to flirt or anything. But just in case. I give the girls a boost, you know, for support, not to show them off to a certain sexy biker.

When I return, he’s cleared the pizza. And has a glass of water waiting for me next to his. He put both glasses on coasters.

“A housebroken werewolf,” I murmur.

“Excuse me?” He glances up. He has sharp hearing. Good to know.

“You put the glasses on coasters.” I smile at him. “Was your last girlfriend a bitch? Did she take you to obedience school?”

I chuckle at my own joke while Tank looks longingly at the door. Poor guy, stuck with me. I didn’t go to college, but I’ve mastered the art of annoying people.

“Here.” I open my laptop and show him my client portfolio.

“You did all this yourself?”

“Once you learn the basic design, it’s not hard.” I pull up my most recent projects and point out the before and after.

“It’s good. Really, really good. You do great work.”

“Well, thank you.”

I sit back. Dammit, I need to stick to the plan. But impressing him feels too good.

I keep scrolling through my work. He leans close. Way close. The heat from his body seeps into me. His nose is practically in my hair, like he’s—

“Dude, did you just sniff me?” I scoot away from him on the couch.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “You smell…”

“I’m wearing deodorant.”

“I know. I don’t mean you smell bad. It’s just…” he trails off with a frown.

“Just what?” I raise my arm and sniff, just to be sure. I didn’t put on any perfume in the bathroom because I didn’t want to be obvious.

“Nothing.”

“Well, what about you? You smell like motor oil.”

He blinks “You smell that?”

“Yeah. I’ve always had a keen sense of smell. You work on cars or something?”

“Yeah. I run the shop.”

“The shop? For the gang?”

“The club.”

I pull up the club website and click over to the shop.

“You do good business?”

He shrugs.

I navigate around the site, ignoring him for a few minutes. This guy has me flustered in a way no other guy has before.

“You know, I’m not going to tell anyone about you guys. You can go now.”

“Not until I hear from Garrett.”

“You do everything he says?”

“He’s a good leader.” Tank stretches out his legs. “You got a TV?”

“No. TV rots the brain.”

“And pot doesn’t?”

“What?” I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t do that anymore.”

“Then what are those grow lights in the other room?”

“Those are for my tomatoes.”

He just stares at me.

“Fine,” I sigh. “We can watch Netflix on my computer.”