Such a nice bedroom, decorated in light blues and grays. Very tastefully appointed. What a shame it was about to get messy.
From the comfortable club chair she sat in, Megan aimed the gun she’d taken off the guard she’d assaulted in the garden at Fabian’s forehead.
It was highly doubtful she’d taken him by surprise. The man was a renowned mob lord for a reason, but his cocky self-assuredness meant he took his time acknowledging her presence.
She couldn’t help a grudging admiration. It took a set of megaballs to act as if he didn’t fear her and to ignore the gun she held pointed at him with unwavering hands. He knew for a fact that she never missed.
“Megan. Darling. To what do I owe this lovely crack-of-dawn visit?”
“I was in the area and thought I’d pop in.”
“Did you make my guards look incompetent again?”
“Just the one guy. He’s out cold in the garden. The others don’t even know I’m here.”
Fabian blew out a breath of disgust. “Bloody hell. I’d really like to know your tricks.”
“And give away my mystique?”
“Don’t you mean give away your advantage?”
She smiled in reply.
“I’m sure you’re not just here for a friendly chat and reminder that my staff need more training. I thought we’d agreed to keep our relationship on the down low until certain matters were settled.”
“Certain information came to light, so the plan has changed.”
“You mean the murder charges?”
A scoffing noise came out of her. “Annoying but not the end of the world. While I’d prefer to not have murder charges hanging over me, in the event of a conviction I would have escaped and ditched this identity.”
“Only you would blow off murder charges as nothing. So if that’s not what has you in a tizzy, then what is so momentous you just had to pay me a visit?”
She blurted it out. “Gavin is a wolf.”
Not by one iota did Fabian’s eyes widen. He already knew. Then again, considering Fabian bore the title of alpha wolf leader for the Lycans in this city, it didn’t surprise her.
“Yes, he’s a wolf.”
“And my lawyer.”
“You forgot to also add your ‘lover.’”
The fact that Fabian could scent her lingering passion with Gavin didn’t surprise her, but his next words did.
“When I told Broderick to convince him to take your case, I didn’t expect that to happen.”
“You maneuvered this?” she queried, waving her gun around, not averting her gaze when Fabian slid from bed—a bull of a man with a wide chest, defined pecs, and more muscle and size than any red-blooded woman would look away from.
Just because Megan didn’t like the older man—who, in his forties, was just a touch too old for her—didn’t mean she didn’t admire him.
With a lack of modesty, Fabian strode past her and snagged a robe from a chair. He slung it around his body only moments before the door to his room flung open.
A scowling Gavin entered, dragging an unconscious man behind him. The same thug she’d taken down in their hotel room.
“And here I thought it was only cats who dragged in prizes to show off,” was Fabian’s response to his bedroom invasion.
“Why waste my energy dragging when I can get him to be the muscle?” Broderick quipped as he entered on Gavin’s heels. He smiled in her direction. “Hey, Megan. Fancy finding you here.”
The situation still didn’t make much sense, but one thing was becoming clear. Her meeting with Broderick and Gavin wasn’t by happenstance. Heads would roll. She shot Broderick a teasing smile and mouthed, You’re dead.
“Now, now, Megan. No killing the help. The cat is rather useful to me. I’d prefer we not use up any of his lives.”
“Fine, he lives.” Because he probably only followed orders, but as for Gavin … She turned her sights on him next. “But that one.” She waved her gun Gavin’s way. “Him I want to maim.” Now if only when she imagined him trussed to her bed she wasn’t also inching her way up his body torturing him with her tongue. I’m going soft. Probably because she was already addicted to a certain hard part of his anatomy.
Dumping the body on the floor first, Gavin stared at her as he straightened his tie—what psycho lawyer wolf stopped to put on a tie when involved in a kidnapping of a thug? He ran a hand through his already perfectly coiffed hair and brushed imaginary lint from his suit. Holy hell, he’s a neat freak.
“I think maiming is a little harsh, don’t you, little rabbit? On what grounds do you think you’re owed such violent restitution?” Trust a lawyer to couch a rebuttal in fancy words.
“Grounds? You want grounds? I’ll give you grounds. You work for Fabian and didn’t tell me.” In other words, Gavin hadn’t taken her on because he’d truly wanted to help her or liked her. He did what he was told.
“I do not work for the man. I abhor him as a matter of fact. So much that I plan to celebrate the day they finally toss his mangy ass behind bars.”
“He would, you know,” Fabian said, turning from the coffeemaker he kept stashed behind a panel in his bedroom wall. “He’s the most ungrateful pup I’ve created.”
Created? And the plot thickened. Gavin might claim to not like Fabian, but that didn’t sever his ties to him. “Thanks for pointing out yet another strike against you. You’re a wolf.” Yet she’d never spotted it, even if she suspected something was off about him.
How could I have missed it? It seemed so obvious now. From his arrogant self-assuredness to the lanky and smooth way he moved. Not to mention all the other subtle verbal hints. Hell, he’d even told her he was a wolf when she’d accused him of being a dog.
But what sane person would have taken his words literally?
I should have.
“Yeah, I’m a wolf. So?”
How like Gavin to act so blasé about the admission. “You didn’t tell me.” She managed to stifle the petulant note.
“Nope. I didn’t tell you.”
Said with absolutely no sign of repentance. “Didn’t you feel like this was information I should have?”
“I would have eventually gotten around to it.”
Eventually? She blinked in disbelief. Never mind she knew the first rule Lycans learned was “tell no one,” for some reason she felt he should have divulged the truth. “And exactly when was that going to be?” Because it sure as hell wasn’t before they’d jumped into bed.
“Probably about the same time you told me that you were working for Fabian. Because you are, aren’t you, as a spy on Pierre? Only Fabian double-crossed you, had Pierre killed, and then framed you to take the fall.”
Not quite. “The whole Pierre assassination was my job.” She flung that at Gavin with a cocky smirk and waited for his reaction.
While Gavin’s face went through a myriad of emotions, Fabian exuded only one, mirth. “Oh, this was so worth waking up early for. Broderick, why aren’t you taping this? I swear, I’ve not been so amused in ages.”
Broderick held up empty hands. “Sorry, boss. I left my phone in the car in case I had to suddenly shift. Things were a little tense between me and my best bud on the way over.”
“Thing still are tense,” Gavin growled. “But I’ll deal with you later. I’m kind of busy right now trying to wrap my head around the fact my client did indeed kill the victim. You lied to me.”
Draping a leg casually over the armrest of the chair, she waved her gun, which she’d yet to tuck away. “Not quite. I said his death was my job. I was hired by him”—she jerked a thumb at Fabian, who raised his coffee cup in acknowledgment—“to keep an eye on Pierre and feed him certain information. As his secretary, I had access to files and codes, which allowed me to discreetly shuffle a few business interests. Once the moves were done, Pierre was to have an unfortunate accident.”
“But he caught you fucking with his shit, and you killed him.”
“Bzzt. Wrong. I said I was supposed to, but someone got to him first and framed me.” She couldn’t help the incredulity in her tone. It still galled her that someone had dared screw with her like that—and scoop her job from under her.
“Framed?” Gavin snorted. “That’s priceless coming from an assassin.”
“Says the guy who turns into a freaking wolf.”
He glared at her, and she arched a brow and smiled.
Strange and tense as the moment was, oddly enough she enjoyed herself. Something about Gavin truly brought her alive. She found his alpha tendencies and uptight attitude highly entertaining. What a shame about his howl-at-the-moon condition.
The silence stretched, Fabian and Broderick steering clear of the conversation but avidly watching.
Widening her grin, which only deepened his scowl, Gavin broke the standoff. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Did you agree to kill Pierre, of course?”
Fabian replied. “You mean other than the fact it’s her job and she’s good at it?”
Oh, way to make her sound mercenary. The fact that it was true didn’t mean she liked it bandied about. Megan tossed Fabian a glare that screamed, Zip it!
As if he’d listen to her. He grinned, completely unrepentant. The jerk knew she wouldn’t kill him.
Stupid family. He might only be a distant cousin on her dad’s side, but it still made him someone she couldn’t kill—and hope to make it out alive at Grandpa’s Thanksgiving dinner. Unusual were the extremely rare times when their clan gathered and things didn’t get a little hairy. Grandma said it wasn’t a true family reunion unless some blood was shed.
One hundred percent human or not, no one messed with Grandma. The most excellent cook went everywhere with a knife. And food. Megan was pretty sure Grandma could probably pull the ingredients to make a gourmet seven-course meal—for fifty—from her large canvas purse covered in tropical flowers.
It was a talent Megan, sadly, didn’t inherit. But Grandma forgave her since her only granddaughter, who was also human, could at least wield a knife and a gun, plus a myriad of other weapons.
However, Gavin knew nothing of her history, and the arrogant wolf snapped at her cousin, “Do you mind? I was talking to Megan.” He practically snarled the words.
Despite Megan having grown up around a father and other male relatives who could do the same thing, having Gavin do it took it to a whole new level. A sexy one.
But his primal wolf attitude was also silly, and she rolled her eyes. “Why else would anyone do it? For the money, of course. It’s not the first time either.”
“Megan here has been working for the family for quite some years now. Mostly on the West Coast, but she recently moved to the big city to take a more active part in my empire.”
“Actually, I did it to drive my dad nuts. He’s a touch overprotective,” she warned Gavin. As a matter of fact, if dear old dad knew that Gavin had seduced her things could get hairy. Especially if her other cousins got involved. And her uncles. And Grandpa. As for Grandma, she’d probably cackle, pull a cow from the walk-in freezer, and start cooking a feast for when they were done playing with Gavin.
And he wondered why she’d become an assassin—other than because of the money. She came from a family of somewhat psychotic wolves. And before anyone began assuming they’d been born that way, it should be made clear that Lycanthropy was given, usually intentionally. It was triggered by a bite, several of them, while a male was in wolfman form, not human or full wolf—which usually happened only during full moons. Only when a Lycan stood with one foot in both camps was his bite contagious. Yet the chomping didn’t always turn a man.
Some died; the weaklings, her dad said, not without a little scorn. Some recovered, victims of an attack. But some … some turned Lycan, the first moon triggering the full change. After that, with practice a male could control his inner beast and allow only parts of it to emerge. Except when the full moon shone in the sky. Then they all went 100 percent hairy, no matter what.
Not that she’d ever experienced it. Megan, to this day, remained human.
So how, some might wonder, if it took a bite to infect, was she descended from a line of male wolves that went back generations? Simple. Her family was freaking nuts.
Each generation birthed a son or two, sometimes more. And each generation got bitten by their dads on their sixteenth birthday. It was barbaric. It was also tradition.
It was also for guys only.
Girls couldn’t turn wolf. Women were immune to the bite.
No one was sure why. Daddy said many had tried. Hell, apparently Grandma made Grandpa bite her because she wanted to be furry like her boys. It failed.
Luckily, the men could still marry human women and father children. Mostly boys in her family, with the occasional girl like Megan, who was raised among wolves.
Had she mentioned the psychotic part?
“Ahem.” Fabian cleared his throat. “You know, while all these lovely introductions are fascinating, I’m finding myself less intrigued with your banter than I am with the body on my floor. Doesn’t he work for me?” Fabian asked as he nudged the thug with a bare toe.
At that announcement, Megan snapped her attention to her cousin. “He’s one of yours? I can’t believe you sent a gunman after me. Wait until my daddy finds out.”
Alpha of a contending clan or not, Fabian vehemently denied it and perhaps even blanched a little. “I most definitely did not send him after you. I’m not insane enough to challenge your father.”
Dear Daddy. His reputation since his return from the war preceded him.
“Then if you didn’t send him, who did?”
They all stared at the thug, who groaned as consciousness returned to him.
With so many violent personalities in the room, it didn’t take much threatening to have him spill his guts. The verbal kind, not the messy intestinal ones.
His voice earnest, the hired gunman told them what he knew, which wasn’t much. “I was hired for the job. Well, less hired, more like I accepted an open call.”
Broderick, who tapped away on a laptop Fabian had fetched by his guards, confirmed it. “What do you know? I’m on the forum he was talking about, and here’s the posted bounty.”
The forum he referred to was an online Web group under several layers of security and encrypted so that only those in the business could decipher the contents.
Megan, gun tucked in the waistband of her pants—no panties because she couldn’t find them when she’d fled earlier—peered over his shoulder.
Sure enough, as she scanned the board she saw the announcement.
A whistle blew past Fabian’s lips. “Five million to end your life. That’s not what I would have paid.”
Affronted, Megan shot him a dark look.
He grinned. “I would have paid more of course, dear cousin.”
His face set in a perpetual scowl, it seemed, Gavin paced before Broderick. “How do we get this message taken down?”
“We don’t. Only the poster can erase it.”
“But we can nullify it to a certain extent,” Fabian added. “We will post a message saying that if anyone succeeds in killing dear Megan they will incur my wrath and I will hunt them down myself and ensure they die screaming.”
“I was planning on doing that anyway,” added Gavin, his tone quite ominous.
And sexy. Damned wolves and their protective ways. To think Daddy wondered why she had fled to the East Coast. Grandma and Megan’s mother understood and had abetted her departure. Now Daddy sulked because his little girl left him.
“Gavin, I am most delighted to see this violent side. And to think I’d wondered if you were soft when it came to justice.”
“Sometimes the law just isn’t enough,” Gavin replied.
Megan shook her head. “Men. Always promising more violence. I’ll take care of this. After all, this person dared to screw with me.”
“What do you plan to do?”
What a dumb question. “I’ll kill whoever is behind this of course. No money getting paid means no attempts on my life. Simple.”
“Easier said than done. We don’t know who is bankrolling this.”
“Yet. Given their erratic behavior, I’d say it’s not long now before they reveal themselves.”
“But do we have that long to wait? They’ve set a pretty trap around you, Megan,” Broderick reminded. “The cops are currently looking for you on account of the body in your apartment.”
“What body?” she asked. They brought her up to speed, and she lost her smile. “This is getting ridiculous. What the hell did I do to incur this kind of vendetta?”
“I’ll admit I’m a tad jealous. No one puts this kind of effort in their attempts on me,” Fabian huffed.
“It’s because you’re soft.” She coughed it in her hand, and her cousin glared.
She beamed.
“What if we could get the charges dropped?” Gavin said.
“Exactly how are you going to do that? You have seen the pile of evidence they’ve gathered, right? The best we can hope for is having the most current arson and murder charges dropped.”
“That’s what you think. I have a plan.”
And it was a good one, too.
In return for their letting Larry—the hotel intruder—live, he would not only confess to his part in the murder and arson at Megan’s place, which resulted not long after her threat to remove his ability to procreate, but also admit he’d killed Pierre and framed the innocent secretary for it. It should be noted that, despite the measures they used to make him speak, Larry swore, and quite unimaginatively, that he didn’t have a part in that plot. Not that it mattered. Given the choice between life in prison and facing their wrath—which again, Megan punctuated with more bodily threats, good ones that made all the men wince—Larry wisely chose the least harmful route.
With their plan in place, it was decided that Gavin would bring Larry in on a citizen’s arrest. Gavin would concoct some story about having taken down Larry when the thug visited Megan at her hotel room. Brave lawyer traps criminal intent on killing his scapegoat. Why Larry wanted to kill her they left vague. With a confession in hand, it was doubtful the cops would dig too deeply, especially once one of Fabian’s men on the inside pushed the paperwork through.
“I’m going to time it so that I arrive about a half hour before the end of shift. The cops will just want to process the paperwork as fast as they can to get out of there.” Gavin eyed the watch on his wrist and tapped it to set an alarm.
Wearing no underpants and no bra, Megan felt quite unprepared beside his impeccably turned-out attire. She didn’t let his suave exterior beside her grubby one, though, daunt her.
After all, I’ve seen him naked. And dirty. Oh, so dirty. She crossed her legs in the chair she’d once again commandeered.
“With Larry’s confession, it will be a cinch to get the arrest warrant for Megan canceled. Then I’ll work on the rest of the charges. You’ll be a free woman. That is, if you can stay out of trouble. Anything else I should know about? Some other crime that will pop up to mess with my plan? Did you perhaps sneak out and kill someone while I was sleeping?” He fixed her with a dark stare.
She snorted. “As if you gave me enough time. I barely got any sleep.” Too late she realized what she’d admitted, aloud, to an audience. Killer since her college days or not, she blushed.
Wisely, no one remarked on it.
Gavin shot a look at Larry, who sat quietly on the floor, no longer so intimidating when surrounded by real predators. “Broderick, zip tie his hands, would you, and put him in the car.”
“Why me?”
“Because you owe me. That and I need to speak to my client some more before I handle the cops. Also”—he poked Broderick in the back—“after you’re done with that, I want you to work on unscrambling the identification of whoever posted the bounty. While you”—he jabbed a finger in Fabian’s direction—“need to do something criminal that I can tie back to you so I can at least throw you in jail for a few nights for irritating the fuck out of me.”
“Only a few nights? I take it I am forgiven for introducing you to Megan.”
“I forgive you nothing, but I am willing to forgo the exhilaration of seeing your ass in an electric chair out of deference to the fact you’re related to Megan.”
“You would show me mercy because of Megan? How interesting,” Fabian mused aloud.
Megan frowned. What did her cousin mean? Before she could speculate, Gavin dragged her from the room. Only because she allowed it, though.
Now that she didn’t need to hide who she was, she could have broken his hold—or his wrist. Daddy made sure his little girl wasn’t defenseless. Besides, Gavin was right. They did have some things to discuss in light of recent events and revelations.
They didn’t go far, only to a small parlor with a pair of hidden sliding doors, which Gavin whisked shut as soon as he had her in the room.
He whirled on her. His presence—large, confident, and oozing primitive maleness—filled the room while his gaze drilled her. He advanced on her with the slow steps of a predator.
Despite her upbringing, she couldn’t help mincing steps back. The cautious retreat of prey. A prey with a racing heart, heated blood, and tingling parts.
“So, little rabbit. It seems I’ve misjudged you. It’s not often someone can say that.”
“My ability to blend is why I’m paid the big bucks.” Her wan joke didn’t crack a smile.
“Speaking of big bucks. You could have afforded a lawyer but didn’t hire one. Why?”
“And ruin my cover? Part of my defense was the whole benign-secretary thing. If I could keep it and have the charges dropped, then I wouldn’t need to reinvent myself. I’ve heard new fingerprints are painful.”
“You didn’t need me to take on your case for free.”
“Are you about to complain about me wasting your time? Would you feel better if I offered to pay you the going fee, discreetly, of course?”
He’d kept advancing as they spoke, and she couldn’t help but retreat from him until her back hit the wall. Did she retreat from fear? Not quite, more like an excitement that had her heart racing and her body tingling.
He framed her body with an arm braced on either side of her head. “I don’t need your money.”
“Because Fabian is paying for my defense of course.”
“No, he’s not, and I would never take a penny from him.” Gavin invaded her space, not quite touching her but close enough for her to feel the heat of his body.
“If he’s not paying you, and you don’t need my money, then what do you want?”
“Other than the truth?” He rubbed his face against hers, a jaw shadowed in stubble against her smooth skin. Having been raised among wolves, literally, she knew what he did. He marked her with his scent.
That didn’t bode well. “What if I promise you the truth from here on out? No more surprises.”
“I don’t think we need to go that far. While I will expect forthrightness from you, as for surprises…” He blew warmly against the lobe of her ear. “Some surprises are delicious.” He nipped the tip, and she shuddered, arousal tensing the muscles of her sex.
“I’d have said ‘dangerous.’ “ Her voice emerged a touch more high-pitched than she wanted as she tried to distract herself from his mouth. “You do know I’m a trained killer.” An assassin who was thinking if she hooked her foot around his ankle and caught him off guard she could tip him onto the floor, straddle him, and do things on the plush carpet that would totally be more fun than this conversation.
“I like danger.” Wolf or not, he practically purred the words.
Jump him. How she wanted to, but she knew what a bad idea that was now. Distraction was what she needed. “So what happens next, with my case, that is?”
Talking didn’t stop his lips. On the contrary, the hot puff of air as he spoke so close to her skin was almost worse. “Larry will be charged. You go free, and we find the real culprit behind all these acts.” He dragged his lips down the column of her throat.
“Whoever it was initially didn’t want me dead, or they would have killed me when they planted the stuff.”
“True, but they definitely wanted you punished. Which reminds me. I’ve been wanting to ask, how did such a savvy assassin get caught and framed in the first place?”
She babbled in an effort to fight his tantalizing mouth, which sucked the sensitive skin at the base of her throat. “I should probably begin by telling you my plan in regards to Pierre. Given I was almost done with the deed and asset transfers Fabian wanted, I concocted an office-robbery scenario. Business guy stays late because I create a bit of a panic with one of his distributors. He’s alone. Unarmed. A junkie breaks in and shoots him, the junkie being me. First, though, I had to establish an alibi. On the day of the murder, I went home and got some Thai takeout on the way, making sure I kept a time-stamped receipt and that my credit card was used. I made sure the lobby camera for my building saw me coming in. Once I was at my place, my plan was to change into some concealing clothes and whip back out using the fire escape. A tenant, two floors down, who’s in Florida for the week, leaves her bike chained by her window. I planned to borrow it and use it to get there and back, with no one the wiser.”
His suckling of her skin paused. “Except you never left your apartment that night.”
The lips resumed their roaming adventure. “I never even made it in the door. I’m assuming someone darted me with a heavy-duty sedative, because the last thing I remember is juggling my bag of food so I could unlock my door.”
She barely held in a disappointed sigh as his lips stopped again.
“So you really didn’t kill him?”
“No.” The reminder helped put a damper on her burgeoning arousal. “Which is why I was so pissed the next day when the cops showed up and began pulling the supposed evidence from my apartment. I was framed.”
His blue gaze met hers, and a lilt curved his lips.
“This isn’t funny,” she pouted.
“Yeah, it is, because I can’t believe an assassin is complaining about getting framed for murder.”
“Hey, you would, too, if it happened to you. I mean, not only did I not get properly paid for that wasted month of working for my target, but I now have to clear my name and find the real culprit.”
“Your name will be clear by the end of the day.”
“But whoever started this war against me is still out there.” Only for as long as it took her to find them. Once she did—
Gavin’s lips moved upward, hovering over her mouth, taunting her with their closeness. “I take it asking if you have enemies is a moot point.”
“Are you implying I’m not well liked?” She batted not-so-innocent lashes at him.
“I’d say that anyone who likes you too much is asking for trouble.”
“A good thing you discovered this sooner than later then,” she replied, somewhat miffed.
Sure, she’d not exactly expected their one night of passion to change things between them. Hell, she’d been the most vocal about not indulging, but it rankled knowing that her profession and true self were too much for Gavin to handle. It seemed she’d grown to like Gavin, despite their short acquaintance—and the fact that he turned furry.
Well, at least I know where we stand now. Not that things would have gotten much further. Once her family found out about him, it wasn’t just her daddy who might have an issue with her taking up with an unknown wolf—and a lawyer at that.
“Yes, it is a good thing I know what a troublemaker you are. I’ll have to call my security company and have them increase their service if I’m going to keep you safe.”
“Excuse me?”
He leaned in close, forehead leaning against hers, his lips but a hairsbreadth from hers. Intimate, close, heart-stopping. “Oh, you didn’t think something like you being an assassin would chase me away, did you? I am a wolf, little rabbit. I thrive on danger. And now that we’re both unmasked, we don’t have to hide who and what we are anymore.”
“I’m not looking for a relationship.”
“I wasn’t asking. I’m stating that, like it or not, we’re a couple.”
The feminist in her bristled at his domineering statement. The woman in her melted and then puddled as his lips tugged at hers, a slow, languorous embrace that had her breath stuttering.
If only they had the time. No, what am I thinking? Bad idea. She’d grown up with wolves, and she knew better than to get involved with one. “Aren’t you supposed to go to see the cops?”
“I will, in a minute. First, I think we need to take care of more pressing business.” His business pressed against her lower belly.
Again, so tempting, but Megan wasn’t some doe-eyed idiot who thought having sex in her cousin’s house, with him just up the hall, probably on the phone to her dad, and with a contract on her head sending every Tom, Dick, and Hairy—as in furry shifter—coming after her was a good idea.
She ducked down and slid sideways out of Gavin’s intimate grasp. Only the sparring she’d done growing up gave her the dexterity needed to evade his lunging hand. Oops. Nope. He caught her, moving fast, like only a Lycan could.
Or did she allow him to catch her?
“I wasn’t done with you.” Such heated promise in those words, and damn if she didn’t melt as he, once again, dragged her into his embrace and plastered his lips over hers.
Megan wanted to blame her racing pulse on her indignation at how he manhandled her without permission. Perhaps a fever was to blame for the heat coursing through her frame. But what excuse did she have for the arousal moistening her sex? The tingling anticipation prickling her skin?
She said screw it to the little voice that told her she should run from the wolf. She pressed herself against him, clutched at his muscled biceps, and let herself enjoy the kiss.
What a kiss. His hard mouth claimed hers with a fervor she’d never experienced before. This. This hard, hot, breathless embrace was passion, not the tepid acts of her past with boys.
Gavin was a man. All musk, power, and intent.
He didn’t waste time coaxing her lips apart. He demanded they open. He took over and went on a quest for her tongue that he might twine with it and draw soft cries of pleasure from her.
While her knees might buckle, he didn’t let her fall. He braced her with his body and the wall, pinned her with his solid frame, and rubbed.
Oh God. He rubbed, the hardness of him pressing against her core. She throbbed between her legs. She needed more than just rubbing.
She made a noise, an incoherent one, but he deciphered it, and next thing she knew, her pants were around her ankles and he nudged her legs apart. He inserted his thigh, and she ground against his muscled leg. Her breath caught at the sweet friction this created on her delicate sex. Her clitoris pulsed with each pass.
Her fingers dug into his biceps, the cruel fabric of his jacket keeping her from his skin. So she went after the flesh she did have access to, nipping his jawline and hearing him finally groan.
“Megan.” Her name emerged on a husky note. The sound of a zipper lowering had her shivering as anticipation hummed through her.
The head of his shaft rubbed across her lower lips, and she gasped at the heated steel length of his cock. So erect, and ready for her.
So big. For her.
She couldn’t help a long, slow moan as he penetrated her, the length of him sliding into her moist heat, inch by slow inch. Tighter, she clawed at him, arching her pelvis forward.
“Impatient, little rabbit,” he chided. He stopped all movement, and she could have screamed. Especially when he used the gap still between their bodies to place his hand. More like his fingers, which delicately rubbed her clit.
Oh my. With him partially inserted, along with the decadent pleasure of his stroke, she quivered and cried out, hips rocking in an attempt to drive him deeper.
She only partially succeeded, as he refused to let her take what she wanted. He was very much in control, only allowing himself partial entry into her sex.
His finger worked her fast and she made a frustrated cry as her body tensed. Everything within her coiled as the pleasure built. And built.
When he did finally slam the rest of the way in, she yelled and pretty much came. Minor quivers rocked her channel as he stroked, in and out. Each thick thrust hit deep within, deep enough that a second round of bliss built and throbbed.
Both his hands now gripped her, cupping her ass cheeks so he could hoist her to the proper height. Deeply seated within her, he thrust, each smooth strike hitting her sweet spot making a mockery of her first miniorgasm as he rolled her into a proper second one.
A mind-blowing, mind-blanking, body-shuddering climax.
Still coming down from her high, she felt him come, the heat of him bathing her womb. He went still, buried to the hilt, hands cupping her, body pressed tight, his head lowered so, once again, their foreheads touched and their ragged breaths merged.
It was an oddly emotional moment, and yet nothing was said. She wasn’t sure either of them had the mental capacity or words in that moment.
Why ruin utter perfection?
Why unless you were a man, and he did it with just two words.
Softly said.
Intimate.
Possessive.
“My mate.”
“Excuse me?”
Wisely, he slipped away from her, a wolf in a lawyer’s suit, calmly buttoning his pants and straightening his tie.
As for her? There she stood, more like slumped against the wall, with her pants in a puddle at her feet, hair sticking out all over, and eyeing him with dawning suspicion—and a touch of horror.
“I don’t know how much you know about our kind,” he said as he wisely stayed out of reach.
“Enough.” She didn’t elaborate on the how. She wasn’t in the mood to share secrets, not when he’d just dropped an epic bombshell.
“Wolves have this thing. Some call it fate. Some call it—”
“The mating fever. You’d better not be saying what I think you are.” But didn’t she already know? Hadn’t she suspected once she knew what he was? But then again, what were the chances in a city this size she’d run into a wolf? It wasn’t like they were that common.
She closed her eyes as he confirmed it. “You’re my mate.”
“No. You’re mistaken.” This wasn’t happening.
“I’m quite sure.”
“I refuse.” Because she could just imagine the havoc this would wreak.
“Too late.”
It had been too late the moment they’d met. And especially so once they slept together.
“You trapped me.” How that galled, and after all the lessons from her father.
“Claimed you.”
“Same thing. You made me yours without permission.”
“It’s not like I had much of a choice. Once I saw you…” He shrugged. “I’ll admit at first I was kind of freaked out by it, but I’ve come around to the idea.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Now, little rabbit. There’s no need to—” He ducked as she threw the glass bowl of candy on the table.
“I see you need time to process this, and I really should go get that paperwork done.” He just couldn’t help himself. He flashed her a cocky grin and said, “See you later … mate.”
The lamp hit the door a second after he shut it. However, the crashing noise couldn’t erase the echo of his words.
Mated. To a wolf.
Oh no. This couldn’t be happening. Why, oh why hadn’t she spotted his beast side before it was too late? A side she failed to recognize, distracted by her situation and his good looks.
I’m a wolf’s mate.
Life as she knew it would never be the same.
The knowledge made her rash.