Chapter Five

 

Foxfire

 

I dream of my paws scrabbling in the rocky earth. A sunset blazes in the distance, fiery red and orange. My broken cell phone crackles with my mother’s voice telling me I should dye my hair those colors. Then Tank looms over me, shaking his head…

I wake with a start, the smell of bacon so intense, I can taste it.

My stomach rumbles as I pad to the kitchen. Tank stands at the stove, his broad back hunched and shaved head bowed over a skillet.

“OMG,” I say. “Are you making breakfast?” A folded paper bag soaks up grease under a stack of bacon. “Is some of this for me?”

He flashes me a grin, jerks his head at the table. My little card table is covered with dishes of meat. Sausage, hamburger patties, more bacon.

“Oh my god, Tank. Did you kill every pig and cow in the world?”

“Just for you, baby. Eat up.”

Baby. I like that.

Bad Foxfire!

“I’m such a bad vegan,” I mumble as I sit down.

“Seriously?” Tank raises a brow.

“What? I thought it’d be healthy.”

“You can’t be vegan.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause you’re a carnivore.” Tank puts a plate of bacon right in front of me.

“I could eat tofu and stuff,” I argue, as if I’m not about to swallow a pound of delicious pig.

“You can’t cut meat out. Your fox won’t let you.”

Right.

That.

My stomach twists.

“Eat, baby.” Tank gets more bacon going then comes to the table. “You had a long run last night. Your fox needs this.” His hand settles on the back of my neck, calming the storm in my stomach. I nod and pick up a strip of bacon. In no time, I’ve demolished half the plate, and a third of the sausages. Just enough to take the edge off my hunger. I’ve always had a great metabolism. Guess now I know why.

Tank moves around my kitchen as if he owns it. He’s so big, but somehow he fits.

“I had a dream about my mom last night,” I announce. Tank doesn’t look up from the stove, but I know he’s listening. “Do you think she knew?”

“She did name you Foxfire.”

“That could just be her. Trippy hippy. She smoked pot all through her pregnancy.”

“That explains a lot,” Tank mutters.

“Hey!” I pout in his general direction.

He comes with a fresh round of meat, and spills half of it on my plate before bumping my foot with his in a silent order. We chew for a while.

“Do you remember ever shifting before?”

I put down my fork and think. “I once ate some mushrooms and felt like I had fur. You didn’t happen to give me any mushrooms last night…?”

He shakes his head as he goes back to the skillet.

“Didn’t think so.” Too much to hope for.

 

~.~

Tank

 

She’s stewing again, frowning at the window. I dreamed of her last night, running and catching her and pulling her into position under me. I shift in my seat, glad the table doesn’t have a glass top. I’ve got to get myself under control.

I clear my throat. “There are benefits to being a shifter.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Being able to eat this much, for one. You’ll need to bring extra food with you when you go to shift.”

“Where would I go? Wouldn’t I just run out here?” She nods to the wash.

“In an pinch, yes. But be careful. People around here like to shoot coyotes, even though it’s illegal. In the dark, your fox could be mistaken for a small one.”

“All right.” Her forehead wrinkles.

“You have to let your fox out once in a while. Once a month at least. Otherwise… well, it might be different than for wolves. But it helps you maintain balance.” My voice holds an echo of my father’s words, teaching me our way of life at the kitchen table. “It’s important to take care of your animal. Feed her meat, let her out to run.”

“It’s like I’m a dog.”

“You are. A wild dog.”

“So you… run regularly? Where?”

“The Catalina mountains. But also A Mountain, in a pinch.” A Mountain is the small peak near downtown painted with a large letter A for the University of Arizona. It’s where Garrett shifted and ran off on his date with Amber the day before yesterday.

I bite back my offer to have her come on a moon run with the pack. “You might be able to get away with some midnight runs out along this wash. But a better choice is a wildlife preserve, somewhere that bans hunters. Even then, you have to be careful.” I cut myself off before I scare her. But I’m worried. Poachers, other animals, shifters, anyone who sees a pretty fox and decides they want her. Especially another wolf. My wolf is rabid at the thought of another male sniffing around her.

I stand and clear the breakfast dishes. Foxfire stays zoned out. Maybe she’s in a meat coma. She’s never sat so still for so long.

My wolf insists we go and comfort her. But it’s better she doesn’t come to rely on me too much. She needs her own kind. A fox den, maybe a mate.

My fingers curl into the countertop. I release it before I leave an imprint.

Not a mate, my wolf growls. Not anyone but me.

I check my phone. No messages. Something’s wrong. But Garrett told me to watch Foxfire, so that’s what I’m going to do. Even if I now have my own reasons.

My dad wouldn’t approve. But who else is going to take care of her?

I approach the table, and Foxfire startles. Her big eyes snap to mine. Wide, dreamy. Sweet face, Loony Tunes hair. She’s so small and, deep down, submissive. No wonder her fox stayed dormant for so many years.

“Come on,” I rap the table in front of her. She jumps but doesn’t move. “Time to get up. Face the day.”

“Are we going somewhere?” She arches an eyebrow.

“You need to act normal. Do whatever you do on a Sunday.”

“Normally, I’m not under house arrest.”

The bluster, it’s an act. She’s too smart for her own good. And she’s been alone too long, without anyone to watch out for her.

My wolf wants to give her everything she needs.

“I guess I’ll take a shower.” She scoots out of her chair. “Maybe then I’ll feel normal. Human.”

She pushes past me, and I ignore her disrespect. She’s acting out because she’s scared. And I’m not her pack leader.

I grew up knowing I was a shifter. Expecting it. Meeting my wolf was a beautiful thing, a rite of passage. I felt powerful.

Foxfire emerges from the bathroom, clean and glowing. Her hair falls in soft rings around her pixie-like face. She struts out in cut-off shorts and a tight top, cleavage popping.

“Oh no.” I stand. “You need to change.”

“Why?” she shoots back, pretending to be oblivious to her body’s effect on me. “We’re staying here all day, right?”

“Just… put on some clothes.” I don’t need the temptation.

She puts her hands on her hips. “What’s your problem with these?”

I grit my teeth. My problem is my dick is hard enough to punch through a door. I’d send her to her room for the day, but I don’t trust myself.

“Just change.”

“Sure.” She shrugs and strips off her shirt. It falls to the floor between us.

“Foxfire,” I growl.

“You want me to change, Daddy Pops? I’m changing.” She shoots me a lethal smile. Sweet as strychnine.

“Don’t push me, baby,” I growl. “I warned you what would happen.”

“Mmm.” She twirls a rainbow curl around one finger. “You’ve made a lot of threats. I have yet to see you carry through with any of them.”

Fates help us both. She has no idea what I want to do with that hot little body of hers. And it starts with showing her who’s boss. In more ways than one.

“Okay, baby. Let’s do this.” I lean down and pick up her shirt and toss it at her. “Bedroom, now.”

She smirks and waltzes in that direction.

I fully planned on insisting she get dressed and having a sit-down discussion about dominant animals and her required submission.

Instead, I snag her wrist and spin her to face the wall. I press her small hand beneath mine against the textured plaster, pick up the other, and add it to my collection. She’s still topless, and now I have the world’s best top view of her cleavage. Heaving cleavage. Because she’s definitely excited by my little show of who’s boss.

I pin both her wrists against the wall with one hand and squeeze her breast roughly with the other. My open mouth finds the column of her neck. “You need to understand something, little fox. In a pack, there are rules.”

“I thought you said I wasn’t pack.” There’s a hurt quality to her voice that makes my wolf whine.

“Shifters, then. Either way, you need to know the limits on your behavior.”

“If I misbehave I’ll get groped by a hot wolf?” she suggests hopefully.

I suppress a laugh. “I mean it. Following the rules can save your life.” She doesn’t understand how dangerous this world is, and that’s the part that has my wolf going nuts.

“Okay.”

I release her breast and rest my palm on her ass. “Your actions have consequences. Shifters who step out of line are punished.”

“You gonna ground me?” Her voice is pure sex, husky.

“Mm, no,” I rumble in her ear. I work the button on her short-shorts with my free hand and tug them until they drop to the floor. “I take a more hands-on approach.”

She waggles her ass in a clear invitation.

Fates, I want to take this so much farther than I’m going to. I have images flashing in my brain of stripping her completely naked and pounding her hard from behind.

Instead, I bring my palm down on her panty-clad ass.

“Ooh!” She jumps.

Did I spank her too hard?

I crane my neck to see her face. She’s biting her lip, cheeks flushed with color, eyes glazed.

She likes it.

I smack her cute ass again. And again.

And then the goddamn doorbell rings.

 

~.~

 

Foxfire

 

Tank goes rigid. He releases me in a flash and yanks my top over my head. Motioning for me to stay put, he heads to the door.

So, of course, I yank on my jean shorts and follow him. He stops in the hall.

“It’s a man,” he says softly. “I can smell him.”

I wrinkle my nose. I can’t smell anything that specific yet. “It’s probably Benny. He’s supposed to come by to get his stuff.”

He catches my arm. “Are you going to be cool?”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to run now. You’re the only one telling me I’m not crazy.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Har har. I’ll be right back. Stay out of sight.” I wave Tank into the kitchen, and he goes, face stony.

Should I flaunt my ex in front of him? He went nuts over my Daisy Dukes.

The doorbell goes again.

“Coming,” I sing and open the door.

It’s not Benny but a guy wearing a trench coat. It’s still early on a Sunday morning, and my neighborhood is pretty quiet. We don’t usually get solicitors.

“Can I help you?”

“Foxfire Hines?”

“That’s me,” I chirp. “Can I help you?”

“Yes.” The man pulls his hand from his pocket and points a gun at me.

 

~.~

 

Tank

 

I smell the gun before Foxfire’s fear hits me, bitter and potent. My wolf snarls.

I pad through her “grow light room.” Maybe I can move fast enough to get to him before he sees what’s coming.

My lips curl back. My wolf is ready to hunt.

“What the fuck is this about?” My rainbow-haired pixie puts her hands on her hips. I groan No, Foxfire. Behave.

“Just get inside, sweetheart. We’ll talk it over.”

“Who are you?” she demands. “Who sent you?”

What is it about her that makes her bluster in the face of danger? Now is not the fucking time. Does she think the gun is a toy?

I want to smack her ass all over again.

The man pushes inside, and she trips and falls with a soft cry.

I see red. Five seconds later, the thug is on the floor at my feet. I kick the gun away.

“Foxfire. Shut the door.”

She scrambles to obey.

The man is unconscious. Considering how hard I hit him, he’ll probably be out for a while. He’s lucky I didn’t kill him. I still might.

I use a blanket to grab the gun, and then I wrench it open, emptying the chamber.

Unmarked. Street gun. Mine, now. My wolf snarls. I focus on the gun to keep my wolf from tearing the man apart.

“Duct tape in my bag,” I tell her. She nods and rushes to get it. I tie the man and cover his mouth.

Foxfire is pale and trembling. I take a deep breath and get my rage under control. Ripping this man limb from limb won’t solve anything, and will terrify her.

“Come here.” I open my arms. She dashes to them. Her body is so tiny. I swing her up and carry her to the couch, where I can comfort her and keep my eyes on the thug.

“What does he want?” Foxfire shudders.

“I don’t know, baby,” I nuzzle her throat. She’s alive. She’s safe. She’s in my arms. Foxfire and her crazy hair. I use a fistful to tug her head back, gently, and take her mouth. She tastes like melon and strawberries, sugar and spice, and everything Foxfire.

My lips stroke over hers, despite the man unconscious on the floor. She’s mine. Her nipples pebble against the thin shirt, and I’m about to lay her down and claim her. When I back off, she’s got stars in her eyes. I put them there. My wolf is satisfied.

“You’re going to be okay,” I tell her.

She stares at me, wide-eyed. “What are we going to do with him?”

Normally I’d make a few calls. But this job has morphed into something no one expected. “I’ll figure it out. I’m going to make sure he’s not a danger to us, and try to get some answers. Can you go into your room and work for a while?”

“Yeah. Um, Tank? Can I use your phone, to check my messages?”

“Sure, baby.”

Once she’s gone, I kneel down next to the thug. He has the look of an ex-fighter, rough hands, beefy strength, belly gone a little soft. A local muscle-for-hire. Not too bright. He should’ve come with backup. But he was thinking he’d shake down a small, unarmed woman. He didn’t expect me.

I step into kitchen for a moment while my wolf rages.

Foxfire. Fuck. She could’ve been killed. Or—

“Tank!”

I spin around as she hustles toward me. Something’s wrong. Her face is even paler than it was. Her eyes wide and frantic.

“I think I know who he is. We need to go, now.” She whirls and starts for the door. I catch her, holding her still when she struggles.

“Tell me, baby. What’s wrong?”

She holds up my phone. “My mom called. She’s in trouble.”

 

~.~

 

Foxfire

 

“Listen to this.” I jab the phone at Tank.

“Foxfire?” My mom’s voice comes over speaker. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I’m in a bit of trouble and had to throw away my phone. There might be some men who come asking after me. Just tell them I’ll get the payment when I can. Stay safe, sweetie.”

Tank plays the message again while I bite my lip. “Sounds like she owes the wrong people money.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” I hiss. His face turns to stone, and I remember how wolves don’t like to be challenged. Well, tough. This is my mom we’re talking about. “She left me a message last night, but I didn’t get it because you killed my phone. Dammit! This is your fault!”

He rubs his jaw. “I’m sorry for that. I really am. And I get you’re mad, but dial back the challenge, baby, or my wolf will feel like he has to remind you who’s in charge here.”

The very recent memory of what form that reminder will come in rises up, a shimmering temptation. But now is not the time. “Whatever.” I fold my arms over my chest.

Yeah, he just gave me the best kiss of my life and punched out a gunman to save me.

Whatever. I’m still pissed.

“I need to go,” I tell him.

“Go where?”

“Go help her! I need to fix this.”

Tank looks from the thug lying at the floor to me. “And just how are you going to do that?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

He catches my arm. “You’re not going anywhere, baby.”

“Oh please. I’m hardly going to tell your little secret. I’m one of you, remember?”

“Hush.” He pulls me into the kitchen. “You need to be quiet about that.”

“Well, I am. One of your little gang now, right? The furries?”

“You can’t just run off. It’s not safe.”

“Why not? You already took out the guy they sent after me. He’s not a threat.”

“I don’t mean him. I mean other shifters.”

“What?”

Tank curses, sticks his head in the other room to check on Mr. Unconscious, then returns and hauls me farther into the corner. “You’re not pack. You have no protection. If you ran across a shifter’s pack, they might come after you.”

I blink. “What? Why? And how will they know?

“Your scent. It’s getting stronger. Every time you shift, until other shifters will know exactly who and what you are. And you won’t have any protection. You have no people. You’re alone.”

Jesus. Like I needed the story of my life spelled out once again. I shrug him off. “Well, whatever. I’m used to that.”

He presses his lips together, studying me. I meet his gaze, raise my chin. I’ve always been an outsider, a freak. He knows me a day and thinks I’m going to fall apart facing my problems on my own?

Fuck him. I’ve always been on my own.

“I’m going.” I start for the door.

“You are not,” he growls, grabbing my wrist.

“You don’t get a say.”

“You shifted for the first time in front of me. That makes me responsible for you.” He seems to have just made that decision. His words shock me into stillness. “You don’t want to go out there alone. Trust me.”

“Well, I’m not staying here. My mom is in trouble. The goon in the other room is proof of that.”

“Another reason you shouldn’t be alone. He came here thinking he was going to confront a five-foot, hundred-pound woman he could easily overpower. And he would’ve, if you’d been alone.”

“Luckily, I wasn’t. And I weigh a hundred and twenty pounds, thank you very much.”

He shakes his head. “You’re not going alone. It’s not safe.”

“Fine.” I grin without mirth. “Then you come with me.”

“I—” He stops. “Fuck.” He looks down at his phone like it’s an oracle with the answer.

“I’m going. You can either come with me or stay here with my unwanted guest.” We both look at the still-unconscious thug. Werewolves hit hard.

“Or I could tie you to the bed.”

I don’t dignify this with a response. It’s all fun and sex games until you get a visit from thug and a frantic call from your mom.

Tank reads this on my face and sighs. “Fine. But I’m in charge.”

I blink. I never expected him to have my back. Relief rushes through me. “Okay, yeah. I’m getting used to that.”

“Go pack.” Tank jerks his head at my bedroom. “I’ll take care of this guy.”

“What are you going to do to him?”

“Wake him up and try to question him. I don’t want you in here.”

“Do you want me to get a tarp? In case there’s blood.”

“No. I—”

A sound at the door makes both of us freeze. Someone’s trying to get in. Keys jingle, and I hear a curse.

Shit. It’s Benny. Good thing I changed the locks.

Tank starts for the door, a dangerous set to his shoulders. He’s going to knock Benny unconscious.

“Wait.” I catch his arm. “You can’t—it’s my ex-boyfriend.”

“What?”

The doorbell rings. “Foxfire?” Benny whines. “I know you’re in there.” He rings the doorbell a few more times and knocks. Jerk.

“He left stuff here. I’ve been on him to pick it up,” I explain quickly.

“Fuck.”

The mafia man is still sprawled on my rug. Fuck is right.

“I can stall him—” I start, when the thug begins to stir. At least, until Tank’s fist flashes out and catches him on the jaw.

“That’s probably not good for him.”

“He held a gun on you,” Tank says. The flint in his eyes tells me in his world, you don’t hold guns on women. You do pin them against a wall and spank them if they’re naughty. It’s a pretty interesting place, Tank’s world.

“Foxfire!” Benny shrieks.

“Coming!” I shout, stepping in front of the window in case Benny decides to try to look through the curtains. “Give me a minute.” I whirl to face Tank. “What are we—”

Tank already has the thug rolled in my rug and is carrying him to the back room.

“No, not there.” I whisper. “That is where I keep Benny’s stuff. Out back. ”

Tank heads into the kitchen.

The doorbell dings constantly.

“Go get the door,” Tank orders. “Keep him occupied away from the windows.”

I scramble back to the door, wrench it open, and slip out, pulling it shut behind me.

“What the hell?” My ex squints at me. It’s not yet ten a.m. Early for him. In the daylight, he looks almost anemic.

“What do you want, Benny?” Weak chin, skinny, pothead. I have no idea what I even saw in him.

“I’m here to get my stuff. Whose truck is that?” He scowls, pointing at the big gray truck with a covered bed in my driveway. “It’s in my spot.”

“You don’t have a spot, Benny. I own this house, and we broke up.”

“You got a man in there?” He frowns at the door.

“None of your business. I know you’re here for your stuff, but I’m in the middle of something. Come back later.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tank emerge from the side of the house, carrying the rug. He’s headed down the driveway, to his truck.

“On second thought, now’s a good time.” I pull Benny inside before he has time to ask a question. “Here’s your stuff.”

“What happened to your rug?” he glances at the new bare spot in the middle of my living room floor.

“Termites,” I blurt. “Rug termites.” I grab the lava lamp from the corner. “Here.” I hand it to him. “This is yours.”

Benny frowns at it, which means he’s not looking out the window where Tank is loading a mafia man wrapped in a rug into the back of the big gray truck. Hopefully, none of my neighbors notice, either.

“I don’t want this shit.” Benny says. “I want my lights.”

“What?”

“The grow lights.”

“For my tomatoes?”

“No, you idiot, for my pot.”

I suck in a breath. I knew he used but didn’t know he grew. “Did you grow here?”

Benny rolls his eyes. “Where are they?”

I motion to the back room. “But, what about my tomatoes?”

Benny rounds on me and start in with that cutting, derogatory tone he always used when he thought I was too air-headed, “Listen, dumbass—”

The next thing I know, Tank’s in front of me. He has Benny by the collar and hauls him off his feet.

“Did you just call her dumbass?”

Benny splutters. “Dude—”

“You know this asshole?” Tank growls.

“Yeah, Tank! It’s okay. He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

A louder growl this time, deeper in his gut. His wolf.

Hello, Wolfie.

“Apologize to Foxfire.” When Benny’s eyes bug, but he says nothing, Tank bares his teeth. “Apologize.”

“Jeez, I’m sorry, okay?”

Tank drops Benny, who sputters and backs up, wheezing. “What the fuck?”

“Does he have any right to this place?” Tank asks, his eyes on my ex.

“What? No. I own it. He was going to fix it up, though.” It’s probably the only reason I dated him.” That, and he stuck around. In the early days, he made me laugh. After that, he was just a habit, one I should’ve kicked a long time ago.

“He accosted me!” Benny shouts, pointing.

“Yeah, I know,” I scoff. “I was standing right here. Now, go away, Benny. Get your new girlfriend to buy you new grow lights.”

“I’ll call the cops on this place.”

“What?” I gasp. “You grew the pot, not me.”

“They don’t know that. Like you said, you own the place.”

“Get the lights,” Tank murmurs still not taking his eyes off Benny.

I trot to the back room, noting my returned rug, crumpled on the floor and missing the mafia man. I grab the pair of lights and return to find the two men in my life having a staring contest. If we assign points based on tough, commanding awesomeness, Tank is winning.

“Here.” Tank takes them from me and shoves them at Benny.

“You call the cops, I find you.” Tank says.

“Yeah, whatever man.”

Tank shuts the door in his face.

“You dated that thing?”

“Yeah.”

“Break up with him?”

“Uh, yeah. He was bad in bed. And then I found out he cheated on me.”

“He cheated on you?” Tank said as if I’d just claimed the sky was pink.

I nodded.

“If he bothers you again, you call me.”

“Okay. What are we going to do about the wise guy?”

“He’s in my truck.”

“What about his car?”

“I’ll take care of it. Get your things.” Tank whips out his phone. “Hey, Nox? Yeah, I need a tow… Hang on.” He pulls the phone away from his ear and smacks my ass.

Fresh tingles start there and race straight to my core.

“What did I just tell you to do?”

I roll my eyes. “Bossy! I’m going, I’m going.” I spin on my heels and hustle to the bedroom to get my bag, feeling Tank’s gaze on my twitching ass the whole way. Not sure why my foxy bits get so wet when he tells me what to do, but whatevs.

Twenty minutes later, Tank helps me into his truck, and shoves my bag behind the seat. The mafia man is in the covered bed behind us, duct taped within an inch of his life.

“Sure he’ll be all right back there?”

Tank nods, and turns on the truck. It roars to life, huge and powerful, like its owner. Tank’s large hands turn the wheel. I get a thrill just watching him pull out of my driveway.

I bounce a little in my seat. “Road trip!”

Tank is silent. We head straight for the highway.

“Can we stop for snacks?”

“No.”

“Okay.” At least I have a water bottle. Although, I’d better save it for thirty minutes before we make a planned pit stop. I have a bladder the size of a pea.

I relate all this to Tank. His lips twitch, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the road or change expression.

“How about music?” I hold up my iPod. “I have a great playlist. Do you have a way I can plug—”

“No.”

“That’s okay, I have speakers in here somewhere—”

“No. No music.”

“Righty-ho, Big Daddy.”

“Don’t…” His thumb and finger touch his brows, and he briefly closes his eyes.

I grin at him, radiating cute vibes. They get me out of all sorts of trouble.

Tank sighs.

This is gonna be so fun.

~.~

 

Tank

 

A half hour into the journey, and I want to throttle her. Well, not really. I just want to shut that smart mouth up with my tongue. No, my cock. Actually, my dick wouldn’t mind thoroughly claiming other parts of her. Every available orifice. That would be about the only thing that could put a dent in my bad mood. And blue balls.

But as hot as I find Foxfire, as much as my wolf is into her, I can’t go all in with this girl. First of all, she’s a little nutty. Adorably nutty, but still. She’s the type my dad warned me about. He beat his variation of bros before hos into me so many times, I recognize the signs of getting swept away by a female.

Never put a female before pack, son. They’ll ruin everything for you.

I fear he’s right. I’m already making bad decisions because of her. Garrett is in crisis right now, and I’m his second in command. I should be holding down the fort, checking in on Eclipse, and standing by for orders. Instead, I’ve wrapped a thug up in a rug and loaded him in my truck, and I’m driving four hours to Flagstaff.

Because of a girl.

Granted, she’s a very hot, fascinating girl with the most fuckable mouth I’ve ever seen. But I can’t go there with her.

Humming to herself, Foxfire props her legs on my dashboard. They are a mile long and all delicious bare flesh because she’s still wearing those goddamn short shorts. I’m pretty sure if she keeps them up there, I will crash the truck trying to lean over and lick them.

“Legs off,” I order. I sound grumpier than I mean to.

It doesn’t affect her, except to turn it up a notch. “You got it, Big D.” She slips them under her, grinning as if she lives to get a rise out of me.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” I warn her, but it’s myself I’m giving a talking to. “We’re going to get to Flagstaff, question this guy, and check on your mom.” And be back before my pack wonders where I’ve gone.

I left a message with Garrett, and tried Jared and Trey, but I’ve still heard nothing from them. It’s a little worrying. But they’re big wolves who can take care of themselves.

Meanwhile, I’m stuck on a road trip with Little Miss Sunshine. How did I get talked into this?

Oh yeah. Because my wolf won’t let her alone. I can’t stand a human male touching her, much less threatening her. And two humans already have in the past hour. A wolf shifter, even one from my pack? Forget about it.

“This is so exciting. My first road trip with a werewolf.” She dances in her seat. She’s taken off her hoodie, and her nipples press against the thin fabric of her shirt.

My cock wants to dance with her.

“Settle,” I growl. What was I thinking, agreeing to being alone with her for a four hour trip? She’s a beautiful foxy lady, and I’m a hot-blooded wolf. “We need to be careful. It’s not a good idea to rile my wolf up.”

“What? Why?”

“Full moon.”

“What happens then?” Her voice drops. “During your time of the month?”

I snort at her term for it. “We don’t have to shift, but we want to. Females usually go into heat.”

“Like get really horny?”

“Yeah.”

“I get it. You’re afraid you’ll jump me. So what’s the big deal?”

 

~.~

 

Foxfire

 

His hands clench the steering wheel so hard, he’s gonna leave imprints if he’s not careful. “That’s... not going to happen.”

“Yeah. I’m hearing you don’t want it to. What’s the big deal?” I thought he could give it as good as he got it back at my place.

He mutters something under his breath.

“Wait, do you have a wife stashed somewhere? Little Tank babies?” My voice is light, defying the shrieking pain clutching my heart.

“No.”

Relief. I try not to show it. I lean back with a smile.

“Look, this isn’t a date. You’re a shifter, and your mom’s in trouble. We could be walking into a dangerous situation. We both need to keep our heads on straight.” He looks at me like he’s not sure mine is ever on straight. It’s a look I’m used to receiving.

He must’ve seen a flash of hurt on my face, because his gaze softens. “I think we can ask her about you being a shifter, and get you to your kin.”

Kin. I can’t even wrap my head around that.

The highway signs flash by. We’re approaching Phoenix.

“What about your pack?” I ask after a few minutes of silence.

“What about them?”

“I mean, they’re like your family, right?”

“Closer than family. Pack is blood. Blood is pack,” he recites.

“Right. Why not get them to help? You know with—” I motion to the bed of the truck, where the gunman is tied and gagged.

“I don’t need them to handle this.”

“But what about Garrett? Don’t you have to report to him or something?”

“Garrett’s busy. One of our pack mates is missing, and he’s searching for her. And no, I don’t need his permission. He’s the alpha, but he trusts me. I’m high enough in the pack, I only answer to him.”

“There’s a hierarchy.”

“Yep. The more dominant your animal, the higher you tend to get in the pack.”

“So where would I be in the pack?”

“At the bottom. You’re small and a weaker shifter.”

I slump a little.

“It’s not a bad thing. All packs need submissive wolves. They hold the pack together. Dominant wolves, we fight all the time, learn our place. That’s why roles in stable packs are strictly enforced. Otherwise we’d tear each other apart. Submissive wolves don’t pose that threat to dominant ones. We want to protect them.”

“Do you want to protect me?”

His jaw clenches, and he doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t have to—I already know. He feels like he has to protect me. But he doesn’t want to. My game of annoying him has been successful. I should be happy, right? This is a ploy I’ve used my whole life. Act weirder than they already think I am. Beat them to the punch of calling me freak. Own it.

Somehow it just makes me feel a little sick at the moment. What kind of woman does Tank prefer? I picture a tall, blonde she-wolf. I want to kill her. Maybe I’m not as submissive as he thinks.

I fall silent, mostly to give him a break.

As we push through Phoenix, Garrett follows the signs to get on I-17 north to Flagstaff. He clears his throat. “In a few hours we’ll be in Flagstaff. Where does your mother live?”

“Um…”

He nods to the GPS. “Plug in the address.”

“That’s the thing.” I wrinkle my nose. “She moves around a lot.”

“Where’s her house?”

“She doesn’t have one. After I moved out, she downsized to an Airstream trailer. You know,” I hasten to explain when Tank looks blank. “Those silver travel trailers that people use to go camping cross country—”

“I know what an Airstream is. You’re telling me your mother lives in one, year round?”

“Mmhmm.”

“What does she do for work?”

“She’s an artist, mostly.”

Tank heaves a heavy sigh.

“I’ll put in her last known parking place. She should be somewhere around Flagstaff. Sometimes she parks near the Grand Canyon to sell to tourists there.”

“On a designated camping ground?”

“Uh, sure,” I say in a tone that means probably not.

Another sigh.

“What are you going to do with this guy?” I hitch a thumb behind me, indicating the truck bed and incapacitated thug.

“Going to question him.”

“He’s been out a while. Maybe you hit him too hard.”

“He’s fine.”

Tank pulls out his phone.

A gruff male voice answers.

“Tank here. Do we still have the safe house in New River?

“Thanks. I’m using it for the next two hours. I’ll explain later.” He hangs up, and, for the next few miles, he looks so grim I don’t dare ask him anything. I hope he’s not in trouble with his pack.

Thirty minutes out of Phoenix, something in the truck bed goes thump. And keeps thumping.

“Uh oh,” I say as Tank swears. “I think the mafia man woke up.”

“Too soon. Didn’t dose him enough.”

“Dose him?”

“Hang on.” The hammering continues as Tank takes the exit.

“This was a damned stupid idea,” he mutters.

I curl up on the seat. “Where are we taking him?”

“A safe house. Private.”

We’re certainly in the middle of nowhere.

The banging has stopped. For now. “Did you really expect him to stay unconscious this whole time?”

“I dosed him.”

“Dosed him?”

“Tranquilizer.”

My eyebrows crawl up to my hairline. “You carry that stuff?”

“Yeah.” He glances behind my seat where his black bag lives, full of duct tape and heavy sedatives. “Werewolves aren’t always in control. Sometimes their wolf… goes funny.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. So we take precautions.”

“Have you… dosed anyone before?”

“Yeah.” He looks uncomfortable.

“Not just wolves,” I guess. “Humans?”

“The world can’t know about us.”

I lick my lips. “Tank? Are you going to tell your pack about me?”

“Yeah. My alpha’s out of town, but eventually I will report to him. I’ll have to. He’ll smell you on me and will want to know what happened.”

“What will he do? Will he let me into the gang?”

“There’s no gang. Just the pack.”

“And?”

“Foxfire, I don’t know. You’re not a wolf, baby. To come into a pack, you need a sponsor. Someone to vouch for you. Otherwise, you’re suspicious. A shy shifter like you—

“I’m not shy.”

“Your fox is shy,” he clarifies. “Shifters have rank in a pack. A new shifter has no rank. That means they’re fair game for dominance attacks.” He cuts a glance to me. “I’ll explain more later.”

“Okay. But, if you tell the alpha about me… couldn’t you be my sponsor?”

His fingers drum the wheel. “Maybe.”

His reluctance hurts more than I care to admit. I’ve spent my entire life flying my freak flag, precisely because I know no one wants me in their club. I’m different. At least now I know why I’m different. How I’m different. But I guess it’s too much to believe I’d fit in with other shifters just because I have a tail. They still don’t want me.

We pull into a hidden driveway. Tank’s shoulders relax a fraction. The thumping starts again. As we bounce down the gravel road, I hear muffled shouts. The thug must have loosened the tape over his mouth.

We ride around a wooded bend, and a tiny log cabin comes into view.

I gasp. “This is so cute.”

“No one’s supposed to know about this place except pack.”

“You gonna get in trouble for bringing me here?”

Instead of answering, Tank grabs his black bag and gets out of the car. I scramble to follow, but when we reach the trunk, he puts out his hand. “Stand back, baby.”

I take a step to the side.

He starts to open the tailgate and pauses. “Go stand over there.” He points to a rock a few feet away.

“Why?”

“You know why. It’s not safe.”

“He’s already seen me.”

Tank whirls and picks me up, carrying me until my back hits a tree. He presses his hard body against mine. “Baby, are you going to stay right here while I deal with him, or do I have to tie you to this tree?”

My foxy bits throb, nipples tighten. Tie me up, big man. My lips part but no sound comes out. I’m staring at his lips, so supple considering what a manly-man he is. I want him to kiss me.

He does.

It’s a hard, punishing kiss, and when he pulls away his eyes gleam yellow. He points a finger at me, his lips quirking. “Stay.”

I roll my eyes but obey, happy I have a front row seat. I watch from a safe distance as Tank pulls open the bed, grabs the guy’s feet, and yanks him out.

My gut clenches as Tank grapples with his captive, but he’s a half a foot taller and fifty pounds heavier than the big thug. In no time, the man’s on his knees, bound with tape.

“What the fuck?” the thug says.

“Shut up.” Tank smacks him. “See this place?” he points. The truck is between the man and the cabin, so all he sees is wilderness around an empty road. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. You have no rights. What did you want with the girl?”

“Foxfire Hines?”

Tank smacks him again. I cower a little; even though I know the controlled rage on Tank’s face isn’t directed at me.

“You don’t speak her name. As far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t exist for you after this moment.”

“All right all right! It was the job, man, the job.” The thug babbles for a few seconds until Tank cuts him off.

“What job?”

“I don’t know. I got orders—get the girl, tie her up, get her into the trunk, and take her to the drop-off.”

“Who else?”

“No one else. Just the girl. And I wasn’t supposed to hurt her, just get her to the place, alive. I don’t know anything else, I swear.”

The more the thug talks, the more Tank looks like he’s gonna murder him. “Where’s the drop-off point?” he growls in a voice barely human.

The thug names an address.

I scramble to write it down. As my pen scrapes, the thug cranes his head my way.

Tank smacks him again and puts a hood over the man’s head, securing it with duct tape. The man struggles but ends up on the ground, hogtied and helpless. Tank leaves him on the ground and comes my way.

“Go wait in the cabin. The key is under the mat.”

“You gonna torture him?” I whisper.

“No. I’ll dose him and drop him on the edge of town. He doesn’t know anything. I already sent his plates and information to someone who can get more info on him. He’s a local thug, and he’s telling the truth.”

“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, take 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.