Alpha’s Temptation: A Billionaire Werewolf Romance: 1 (Bad Boy Alphas)

Kylie

I’ve never slept with a man in my life before now. I had no idea how incredibly wonderful it would be. The rightness of being nestled against a man’s body—not just any man’s, but Jackson King’s body—with his heavy arm draped over my waist. How safe and comfortable I’d feel.

I don’t want this impossible, short-lived romance to end. But reality calls. I’m wanted by the FBI for robbing my new lover’s company. So, yeah, hiding out at his house isn’t going to work for long.

The first rays of light illuminate the windows. Jackson’s cock twitches against my backside, sending a fresh kick of lust shooting through me.

I wonder if he’s into morning sex because I totally am. Yeah, I was a virgin until yesterday, but morning is my masturbation time.

I push my ass against his manhood, and his cock responds by lengthening, sliding between my thighs. Jackson’s large hand coasts up my side and palms my breast. He pumps his hips, fucking the gap between my legs and running his hard length along my slit.

“Mmm, kitten. Is this pussy wet for me again?” He rolls my nipple between his two fingers.

It would seem so.

He pinches my nipple, and I writhe in surprise at the pain.

I reach between my legs to pull his cock tight against my core. A slow undulation of my hips grinds my clit over it.

He groans and bites my ear. “You want me inside you, baby? You need me to fuck you awake this morning?”

“Yeah,” I rasp. I adjust my hips and angle his cock at my entrance.

“Fuck, baby, I don’t have a—.” He slides into me. I shudder with pleasure, my muscles clenching around his cock.

A condom. Oh yeah.

“Oops,” I say.

Jackson’s breath rate increases, and he holds my hip, thrusting deep into my channel. I know I should stop him, tell him to get the condom, but it feels. So. Good.

“Pull out before you come,” I tell him.

He makes a pained sound. “I’ll stop now,” he says, but continues plowing into me with cruel, delicious force. His grip on my hip is bruise-worthy; his loins slap against my ass.

“Jackson—” I gasp.

He shoves me onto my belly and mounts me from behind, capturing my wrists above my head.

Thankfully, the claustrophobia doesn’t kick in. Maybe because the view in front of me isn’t blocked. I lift my ass to him, loving the new angle, wanting more, wanting everything. Every position, every variation, every rhythm.

An eerie, animalistic growl erupts from Jackson, and I twist to look over my shoulder.

And scream.

I scream at the top of my lungs, and I don’t stop screaming.

Because Jackson is a fucking vampire. Fangs have punched out, and his eyes are ice-blue. Ice-blue. Not green at all. And the sound he’s making isn’t human. He’s going to bite me and turn me into a vampire. I feel like I’ve tumbled straight into a horror movie.

Like the claustrophobia, my terror is a living thing. No thought, just pure adrenaline-fueled fear.

Thankfully, my scream surprises him, and he pulls back enough for me to scramble out from under him. I grab my clothes from the floor and run downstairs stark naked. Barefoot.

I fly out the back door, pulling my shirt over my head as I run. I thought it would exit into the garage, but I must’ve been confused—I’m out in the desert that leads straight to the foothills. I hear Jackson calling behind me, so I bolt straight up the foothills toward the mountain.

“Kylie!” Jackson shouts. He’s outside, and he sounds furious.

I realize now, they’d been trying to warn me off. He and Sam both said he couldn’t be with me. Why hadn’t I listened? I stop long enough to yank my jean skirt on and keep running. I’m not going to make it far without shoes. It’s all rock and cactus, and my feet are already bruised. I turn to look over my shoulder, but I don’t see Jackson following.

Thank God. Maybe he went back in to get dressed. Then an enormous shape bounds up the hill. A silver wolf. And it’s coming straight for me.

Oh Jesus. Jackson’s not a vampire. He’s a wolf.

I can’t decide if that’s better or worse. Do werewolves infect you with their bite and turn you into one, too? Or is that vampires? No, vampires drain your blood. So, yeah. Werewolves infect. I still feel like I’m stuck in that horror movie, only it’s becoming campier.

The wolf is upon me in no time, but it doesn’t pounce the way…Jesus. Was that Sam who attacked me outside the mansion? This one is definitely Jackson. I can tell by the ice-blue eyes. He nudges my hand with his nose.

“Get. The fuck. Away from me.”

He lowers to his haunches and whines. He’s enormous. Twice the size of a normal wolf with a thick, silver coat. A beautiful wolf, but definitely deadly.

I blink, and he’s a man, again, crouching beside me. Naked. “Hey. You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you, kitten.”

“Don’t call me that!” My strangled voice sounds slightly hysterical. I’m generally someone who prides herself on keeping it together, but this situation has thrown me for a total loop.

I run up the hill. In my periphery, the wolf appears, trotting by my side, like he’s decided to become my pet. “Go home,” I command. If only he were a simple dog I could send running home.

Of course, he keeps trotting along beside me.

I glare at him. “So, you’re a werewolf? That’s your big secret? And what? You have to bite someone on the full moon? Something like that?”

Jackson—or rather, the wolf—whines again.

“What do you want with me?” I sob.

He licks my moving calf.

“No!” I shout. “Don’t touch me. Stop following me. Go. Home.” A rock twists under my foot, and I go down on my knee, hard. Pain shoots through my entire leg. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore it.

When I open them, Jackson’s in human form again. Naked. He scoops me into his arms.

“No,” I protest. “Put me down.”

He walks stone-faced down the hill. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m not going back inside that house with you.” My stubborn side has risen up, immune to logic. If he’s a dangerous werewolf, waiting to turn me, he’s not going to care where I want to go.

But Jackson stops. His shoulders sag. “Okay, fine.” He starts running up the hill at incredible speed.

I clutch his shoulders. “Where are you taking me?” I gasp.

“I have a cabin up on the mountain.”

Great. He’s taking me somewhere even more remote so he can turn me. Except, I’m no longer afraid. Now that the initial horror has worn off, my brain is starting to get back online.

“Jackson, what happens when you bite someone?”

“A serum coats my teeth. It leaves my scent in your skin.”

“And turns me into a werewolf?”

“No.” He keeps moving at dizzying speed, his bare feet and long strides eating up the mountain. I can’t imagine how his feet don’t get torn up. “We don’t change people,” he says stiffly, and I realize, with a bubble of amusement, that I may have offended him.

“But I am in danger? What does the serum do?”

He stops running and closes his eyes in resignation. “When a wolf picks his mate, he marks her with his teeth. A mating serum coats his fangs and permanently leaves his scent on her, so other wolves know she’s been claimed.”

I gape at him. Illogically, a hot pulse starts up between my legs.

“Did…do you want to mark me?”

“I can’t,” he grits, once more ascending the mountain. “A human couldn’t withstand such a bite. Shifters heal quickly, but a human would lose blood, maybe even die. Shifters don’t mate with humans.”

A cloud seems to roll over us. “Ah. That’s why Sam said you couldn’t be with me.”

“Right.” He clenches his jaw so hard I swear it will shatter.

A small log cabin comes into view. He retrieves a key from the top of the doorframe and opens the door. Inside is a beautifully appointed mountain cabin, simple but comfortable. He carries me to the leather couch and arranges me on it, with my back against the armrest and legs elevated on the cushions. My ankle has doubled in size from the swelling, and my knee is cut and bruised as well.

“I’ll get some ice.” Jackson disappears around the corner. When he returns, he’s pulled on a pair of jeans and carries a dishcloth wrapped around a cold pack. He crouches by my feet and applies the pack.

“I’m sorry I freaked out on you.”

He gives an impatient shake of his head. “No, I’m glad you did. I would’ve bitten you.”

I stare at my throbbing ankle, unable to look at Jackson. “Well, I’m flattered, I guess.”

He lets out a harsh laugh that doesn’t sound amused at all. When he stands, he stabs his fingers through his hair like he did last night.

“Now, you understand. I’m dangerous to you, Kylie.”

I study him through narrowed eyes. “I’m not afraid of the big bad wolf.”

His eyes look haunted. “Learn to be. Listen, I need to get to the office. I have the feds to deal with.” He walks to an old-fashioned desk and pushes the lid up. Inside, the comforting lights of a wireless router flash. He pulls out a laptop and brings it to me. “You can work from here. Or I’ll go back and get the car and drive you down the mountain.”

“Here is fine,” I say quickly. For some reason, I’m not ready to go back to his mansion.

“There’s food in the cabinets. I’ll bring you things so you don’t have to get up.”

He leaves and returns with a loaf of bread and peanut butter and jelly, along with a can of oysters. “I wish I had a painkiller to offer you, but shifters don’t use them.”

Shifters. It’s still setting in, but now that it has, it makes him all the more fascinating and attractive. No wonder I’d had a teen crush on Jackson King. He is superhuman.

“I’m really sorry about freaking out. I’m embarrassed. I wish we could have a do-over, and I’ll be uber cool about it. Can we try?”

A reluctant smile tugs at Jackson’s lips. “How would it go?”

“I’d be like, oh, you’re a werewolf. That’s cool. Don’t forget the condom.”

A shadow descends over his face, perhaps at the reminder of the condom mishap. “I’m bad for you,” he says tightly. “This…can’t work.”

Something tightens in my solar plexus. I want to grab him and tell him I’m not afraid, but he snatches me first, stamps his lips over mine, twisting over my mouth with an intensity I find dizzying.

I sense the desperation in the kiss.

The goodbye.

“Don’t message me. I don’t want anyone to trace you through me. I’ll be back tonight. As soon as I can. Do you want me to send Sam up to check on you?”

I shake my head, swallowing down my disappointment. “No, I’m solid. I will keep working on the malware. Jackson?”

“Yeah?”

“Why haven’t they contacted me if my grandmother’s still alive?”

He frowns. “Maybe they’re hanging onto her in case they need more leverage on you?”

I shake my head. “No, they leaked my history to the press. This was definitely a frame.”

He touches my shoulder ,and I swear I feel his strength transferring into me, warming me. “I don’t know, but my gut says she’s alive, too.”

He kisses me again and shucks the jeans. His cock is still hard, mouth-wateringly impressive.

I watch this time as he transforms. There’s a shimmer in the air and then he drops to all fours, a huge, beautiful wolf. I dare to stretch a hand out to touch his fur, and he licks it then licks the wound on my knee clean. It tingles. I remember a doctor in Mexico recommending I get a dog to lick a cut on my hand to make it heal faster. My dad and I had laughed at Third World medicine, but, of course, I’d researched it later, and there is something to it. I wonder if a werewolf’s saliva is even better?

I stroke his silky ears. I want to bury my hands in his fur, but he spins and trots toward the kitchen. I hear the swing of what must be a dog door and he’s gone.

So. Jackson King is a werewolf.

Now I know.

I’m surprised at how protective I feel over his secret. I will work even harder to straighten everything out at SeCure now that I know the company’s brilliant CEO is as vulnerable to being exposed as I was.

~.~

Jacqueline

Jacqueline opens her gritty eyes, blinking against the morning sun. Still in the desert. Still in human form. She drags herself to her feet and checks out the angle of the sun. It is rising over the far mountain range, which means the Catalinas. So she’s in the Tucson Mountains on the west side. Probably out in Marana somewhere, where the crackheads cook their meth.

She isn’t the only one who knows how to research things online. Her Minette thinks she’s only capable of making soup…

Minette.

She starts walking east. Her gait is clumsy at first, but after a dozen steps, her coordination returns. Her sensitive hearing detects the sound of cars in the distance. Dieu merci. Too bad she’s covered in blood. It will make it hard to explain if she flags down a car.

If only she could shift.

She drops to all fours and closes her eyes, willing herself to shift. The trouble is, she hasn’t shifted often enough in recent years. To stay nimble, shifters must shift back and forth as nature calls. A shifter who stays too long in beast form, will forget how to become human again, and vice versa. Living with Minette, her halfling granddaughter who never manifested as a shifter, she wasn’t able to run wild as often as she’d like. Especially when they were hiding in cities. Now, weak, hungry, and injured, it is even harder to call up the magic.

Remember. Remember what it’s like. She thinks about her first shift at puberty, the joy of chasing her sister through the French countryside. There.

The magic shimmers around her. She stops to pull off her bloodied clothes so she won’t have to fight them after the shift and transformation. Now, to stay hidden from human eyes as she runs downtown. At least she remembers the way.

Garrett showed her a map of their territory on the west side once. His pack runs in Saguaro National Park West. Close to downtown and his headquarters. All she has to do is follow the Santa Cruz riverbed south.

~.~

Jackson

I walk into the office like a fucking gladiator. Every employee who sees me takes one look and averts their eyes. Even humans know to submit when the dominant is out for blood.

“The FBI is in with Mr. Anderson, sir,” Vanessa says, pointing toward my CFO’s office. Luis is in there, too. I already knew this from the fifteen phone conversations on my drive in, but I give her a curt nod.

No one from SeCure has admitted to leaking the information about Kylie, which could mean she’s right, it came from her blackmailers. Although the blackmailers could be on the inside, too.

I can’t stop the prickly awareness that there’s still more to this attack we haven’t seen. Would a hacker go to the trouble of kidnapping an old lady and framing someone for less than a million account numbers? Maybe. But it was risky. I don’t know how much money they managed to divert, but their window was short. We closed it on them yesterday.

I march into Anderson’s office and take a chair. My executive team is sweating. This is more pressure than I’ve ever put them through, and it’s not nearly over yet.

Luis has given the feds Kylie’s file and is bobbing his head up and down, agreeing with something they’re saying.

He looks over. “Mr. King, the FBI have their own infosec team they’d like to deploy on our system.”

I nod. “Good. Show them the breach and everything we’ve done to shore it up.”

One of the agents stands and hold out his hand. “Special Agent Douglas.”

I shake it. “Jackson King.”

“Mr. King, I understand you were asking questions about Kylie McDaniel before the breach. Did you have reason to suspect her?”

I go for the truth. If Douglas is smart enough, he’ll follow my logic. If not, we’re no worse off than before. “Actually, I was wondering how she got hired into the position. The assumption was she was a hacker, but nothing on her resume would have told us that. I wanted to know who flagged her for this position and why.”

“You think she has a partner on the inside?”

I shrug. “Maybe. Something’s off with this whole thing, and it’s more than a twenty-four-year-old hacker who called herself Catgirl as a teen.”

“She’s long been associated with vigilante thieves. This could be an organized attack from that direction.”

I consider the man. He seems sharp. “Mr. Douglas, I’d like to share some information with you in private.”

My team looks outraged, but I stand and walk to the door, knowing Douglas will follow. I take him to my office and toss the packet Kylie brought to me the night everything started.

“Ms. McDaniel turned herself into me after she received this,” I explain.

Douglas shuffles through the papers, assimilating the information quickly. “But she still installed the code. From your office, I understand.”

I rub my forehead. “Yes. I brought her into my office the next day and asked her to decode the malware on an un-networked computer.”

“But she used the opportunity to load it onto yours.”

“Yes.”

“So what do you think happened?” He holds up the packet. “This was a ploy to get into your office? Save herself the trouble of having to hack through your firewalls?”

I shake my head. “No. She contacted me later to tell me her grandmother had been kidnapped and was being held hostage. The grandmother wasn’t returned after she loaded the malware, so she offered her help.”

“Contacted you how?” he asked sharply.

This is where it gets dicey. I sure as hell don’t want them looking for Kylie at my place or around me. “She was waiting for me in the parking lot.”

“The hacker who took down your system was waiting for you in the parking lot, and you didn’t call the police? Something’s definitely off with this story, Mr. King. What aren’t you telling me?”

The need to protect Kylie makes anger curl in my stomach. I don’t answer.

“Oh, I get it. You have a thing for Ms. McDaniel, don’t you?” There’s no missing the note of scorn in his voice. “I heard the two of you were trapped in the elevator together on her first morning. Think that was a coincidence?”

A chink of doubt sticks in my chest. Would Kylie orchestrate such a thing? Why? To get close to me? Seduce me?

But no, her terror in that elevator had been real. No claustrophobic woman would choose an elevator to stage a seduction.

I pace the office, shoving my hands into my pockets.

“So she met you in the parking lot and offered to help. What did you do?”

“I let her go.” I’m facing away from Douglas, staring out the full length window. Lying isn’t my forte, and I don’t like the dishonor of it, but I’ll do anything to protect my mate.

Fuck. Not my mate. Can’t be my mate.

“Bullshit. Where is she, Mr. King?”

My fingers tighten into fists. “She’s trying to find her grandmother,” I snap.

He stares at me a long moment. “Okay,” he says finally. “We’ll follow up on that lead.”

I force my teeth to unclench.

“And when you’re ready to tell me where to find your mysterious Catgirl, ”I’ll be waiting.” He tosses a card on my desk. “My cell phone is on there.”

I nod.

He picks up the packet. “All right for me to take this?”

I’m surprised he asks for permission, but it’s probably just a courtesy.

“Yes. Let me know what you find on the grandmother.”

He pauses on his way to the door. “Am I working for you Mr. King?”

I clear my throat. It’s not in my nature to grovel, so this makes twice today. Once to Kylie, once for her. “Please.”

The ghost of a smile plays around his lips. “I’ll keep you posted.”

I sink into my chair when he leaves. The alpha in me wants to tear things apart and howl.

The moon is full. My company’s under attack. My female’s in danger. A human knows my secret, which means by pack law I must do something about her. And while telling Kylie should have ended our relationship—now that she understands why we can’t be together—my wolf won’t stop seeing her as my goddamn mate.

~.~

Ginrummy

The plan is unfolding. Kylie hacked SeCure and installed his code. That much worked. As did the leak to the press to get the FBI onto her. He didn’t care whether the FBI found her or not—the point was just to throw them off his trail.

Mr. X said they took care of her grandmother. He didn’t ask what that meant. He knew.

Time to issue the next blackmail threat. He shifts around in his seat, heat building under his collar. The feds are all over the building, and everyone is talking about the private meeting King had with one of the agents.

What in the hell did it mean? What could King have to say to the agent that he wouldn’t say in front of his executive team?

He doesn’t like it.

He spent all morning answering the same questions about Kylie four times to different agents. Now, he’s supposed to give them access to the SeCure system so their infosec people can do their own investigations.

He has nothing to hide. Kylie uploaded the malware; his IP or prints aren’t on anything.

He checks his phone. A message has come through from Mr. X.

Making the call to King, now.

A muscles twitches in his cheek. This is the part of Mr. X’s plan that goes way beyond cybersecurity and credit card numbers.

They’re making a play to take down the entire company. The credit card number theft was a diversion from the true infection into backup data, which granted the X team the capacity to wipe out every record stored by SeCure. So asking SeCure to transfer five hundred million dollars to restore the files won’t be too much. If successful, it will be the biggest ransomware attack in history. If not, they already stole a half billion in credit card transactions.

~.~

Kylie

At dusk, I limp to the shower to clean up before Jackson shows. He hasn’t contacted me all day, and I’m itchy to see him. To touch him. My body feels achy from the sex and my run up the mountain, but all I can think about is having Jackson’s hands on me, having him take me roughly the way he wants to—biting me and marking me as his own. It’s like the full moon has affected me, too.

The scrapes on my knee look a week old instead of a day. I guess werewolf saliva is better than dog spit.

I spent the day hacking into multiple credit card company sites to get the data on the stolen card numbers. By my estimate, around five hundred million dollars was stolen in the twenty-four hours before the owners were notified and cards frozen. It must have been all automated. Using the small vendors’ merchant accounts stolen, they charged random amounts under a few thousand dollars on each credit card. Again, it suggests an insider, someone who knew what data they would find and how it would be configured in order to have pre-programmed such a complex formula.

With no contact from Jackson—although his reasons for limiting it are sound—emptiness sets in. He doesn’t think he can be with me. He wants to—I know that much—but he believes he’ll harm me.

I’m not afraid, though. He pulled back when I screamed. Went to his belly, even when I gave chase. He has way more control than he believes. And I’m not afraid of being marked. In fact, the idea thrills me. Maybe this is why ordinary men never interested me. I needed a superhuman.

I want to know everything about his shifter life. What it’s like, how it works. What happens on the full moon. Which is tonight.

The bathroom door opens and closes, and my heart picks up speed. Through the foggy glass door of the shower, I see Jackson’s wide frame. “Jackson?”

A moment later, he slides open the shower door. He’s naked, his sheathed erection even more pronounced than it was this morning. Blue eyes burn from his face. His hands ball into fists at his side, his expression dark, furious. Hungry.

I catch my breath. “Jackson?” My voice wobbles.

He steps into the shower with me. I half expect to see elongated fangs when he opens his mouth, and I tense, not sure whether I’m going to let him mark me or not.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you in the shower since the night you first showed up at my house.” His voice is low and gravelly. “You think I didn’t see you touching yourself through that fogged-up glass door?”

A shiver of pure desire runs through me, shooting down my inner thighs, curling my toes.

He catches my wrists and spins me to face the shower wall. His touch is reverent as he presses my palms against the tile. “New rule,” he murmurs in my ear. “You don’t touch that pussy without my permission. Understand?”

I don’t, but I’m too turned on to speak.

“I need to hear a yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir.” The words slip out of me before I even know I’m going to speak them. Heat blooms in my core at the bossy edict.

“Do you know why?” His voice is like a rumbling purr in my ear.

“N-no.”

He reaches around to cup my mons, sliding two fingers along my wet slit. “This pussy belongs to me. I get to pleasure it. My job. Got it?”

Oh Jesus, fuck. My legs tremble from desire. I can’t do anything but moan my assent.

“Good girl.” He rewards me with a quick shimmy of the pad of his finger over my clit.

My knees buckle, but it doesn’t matter, because he wraps an arm around my waist, catching me and holding me up as he penetrates me with two fingers. I throw my head back on his shoulder and close my eyes, lost in the ecstasy of his touch, his heat.

“You left me blue-balled this morning, kitten.”

I cry out as he grinds the heel of his hand over my clit.

“I’m going to have to punish you, now.”

“Yes,” I breathe. Punish me. Fuck me. Keep me as your plaything. I want to be owned by Jackson. Marked by him, no matter how much it hurts.

He pulls his hand away from the notch between my thighs, and I moan with disappointment. “Ass out, baby.”

I immediately obey, pushing my ass backward for his punishment.

He slaps it, and I shriek. The water makes it sting so much harder; the tile makes the crack of his palm echo. He spanks my other cheek then repeats, right and left. I’m in heaven, the cacophony of sensations—the water of the shower, the pain of his spanks, the pleasure of his touch all mingle to bring me right to the edge of orgasm.

Jackson groans. “Fates, I love spanking you. I ought to take a belt to your ass for the state you left me in today.” His voice is a deep rumble that seems to enter my body through every pore.

When I don’t disagree, he curses. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, kitten, you won’t be able to walk right. Then you’ll remember who this pussy belongs to.”

I steal a glance over my shoulder, checking for fangs. The domination is hot, but it’s also way over the top, tonight, and I’m not sure if he’s in control. When I shift my weight, the pain in my ankle twinges.

Jackson surges forward and catches under the thigh of my hurt leg, hoisting my knee up to the tile wall. His body molds against my back, the head of his cock prodding my entrance. “Are you okay, baby?” His lips brush my ear as he speaks.

If possible, my pussy turns even more molten. He’s in control. Protecting me. Like he’s done from the start.

“Yeah,” I pant.

“Reach down and guide me in.”

I obey, reaching between my splayed legs and directing his cock to the sweet spot of entry.

He eases forward, parting me, filling me, inch by delicious inch. The position is so lewd, his dominance so extreme, I feel like the star of a porn movie. Jackson makes an approving hum behind me and then thrusts upward. “Take all of me,” he growls.

I cry out. It’s the good kind of hurt—deep and delicious. His cock stretches me, hits the front of my passage on each ramming instroke.

“Oh God,” I moan.

“Not yet, baby.” Jackson must be talking between clenched teeth. He braces himself with one hand against the shower wall by my head and continues to plow into me.

Need coils tight within me. “Please.”

“Oh fates, baby. Are you begging? Keep fucking begging. That makes me so hard for you, kitten.”

Tears sting my eyes. I’m desperate for release. My one standing leg shakes so hard, it’s a wonder it holds me up. “Please, please, Jackson,” I plead.

An inhuman sound rips from his throat, and I freeze. He fucks me so deep and hard, I see stars. Another roar blasts against the shower walls, and Jackson plunges deep, lifting me off my feet, spearing me with his erupting cock. He catches me around the waist, still holding my lifted knee with his other hand.

I clench around him, release spiraling out of me in a divine series of squeezes and shudders, until I’m wrung out and limp with pleasure. All the time, I’m waiting for the bite, but it never comes.

I can’t decide if I’m disappointed or relieved.

“You take my cock so well, baby.” His lips are right at my ear again, his deep, rasping voice seductive. “Open your eyes and look at where you are.”

Are my eyes still closed? It seems they are. I allow them to flutter open. I’m still nose to tile with the shower wall, Jackson’s hard muscled body pressed against my back.

“This is a tight space, don’t you think?”

My heart hiccups. It is a very tight space. And the exit is blocked. And I’m not the least bit afraid.

I let out a puff of laughter. “It is.”

He nips my ear. “You survived it.” He eases out of me and gently turns me around. His eyes are still blue, and his teeth do look sharper than usual, but he is clearly Jackson the man, not the wolf.

“I’m not afraid when I’m with you.” It’s true. Not a twinge of claustrophobia.

He shakes his head. “You don’t ever need to be afraid again. You’ve conquered it.”

I’m not sure I share his confidence in me. This situation is special. Next time, I probably won’t have a goddess-worthy male fucking the daylights out of me to make me forget to be scared. But I love that he remembers. That he cares.

I smile up at him. “Maybe we should practice a little more to be sure.”

Agony flits over his expression. “I’m not sure I’ll survive it. I need to get out of here and run. Otherwise, I’m going to end up tying you to the bed and fucking you for the next eight hours. And that’s if you’re lucky and I don’t lose control.”

And bite me. Mark me as his.

Fresh heat spikes in my core. I’ve never felt so desirable in my life. Yeah, I know I have a hot body and have even used it on occasion to my advantage. But this animal side of Jackson, this crazed, I can’t-stand-being-near-you-without-fucking makes me feel like Helen of Troy. Or the most irresistible siren.

He tugs off the condom and steps out of the shower to dispose of it. When I come out, he opens a towel for me. Doesn’t just hand it to me but waits for me to step into it then wraps it around me. There’s a familiarity to the gesture—like we’re a long-time couple, easy with the little sweetnesses. Suddenly I want that so badly—want to stay and have Jackson King be my normal. My pack.

But he’s already said it can’t happen. He has to mate another shifter. Not me.

The pain of it nearly blinds me. I turn away so he won’t see it on my face. I need to rescue Mémé and leave town. Guilt for even thinking about a man when she’s missing squeezes my stomach.

Yes, finding Mémé and leaving town is the only ending to this story that makes sense. I just pray she’s still alive. She’s the only home I have.

~.~

Jackson

I don’t know how I survived fucking Kylie without marking her. My teeth were down, serum coating my fangs, but I somehow kept the wolf in check. Because I had to. To protect my female.

Yeah, I just flipped the bird to moon sickness. Taking the female my wolf wants desperately to mate without biting her ought to win me a medal of achievement. But my entire body itches to shift now. And I don’t know what will happen after I’ve given the wolf free rein.

I wrap a towel around my waist and stalk to the back door where I jam the barricade in the giant doggy-door. The last thing I want is to come in after running under the full moon and attack Kylie.

“Do not let me in if I’m on four legs,” I tell her.

She’s followed me out, also dressed in a towel. It occurs to me that she could really use a change of clothes—she’s been wearing my clothes or her same jean skirt and tee for three days now—and I feel like an asshole for not remedying the situation for her. A small one compared to her missing grandmother. Her eyes are wide, but she nods bravely. No surprise there. My little hacker thief, stealing million dollar paintings by age ten.

Somewhere out on the mountain, Sam howls, calling me out to run. “I have to go. Lock the door after me and don’t open it. Understand?”

Another nod.

I grab her for a rough kiss, our mouths melding, tongues twining with enough heat to draw my fangs down again. It takes all my effort to pull away from her, shift, and run out into the night.

~.~

Kylie

I wake to the sound of howling right outside the cabin. The hairs on my nape stand up at the eerie cry. One wolf.

I look at the clock—four a.m. I passed out in the large, comfortable bed in what I assume was the master bedroom right after Jackson left. And now, it seems, he has returned. But he’s on four legs, which means I can’t let him in.

Thud. That sounded like a body being thrown at the back door. He’s trying to get in. I slip out of bed and limp to the kitchen at the rear of the cabin. I’m wearing nothing but one of Jackson’s  T-shirts, which I found in the dresser. I peek out the window and see Jackson, in his giant silver wolf form, heaving himself at the barricaded doggy door.

The black wolf—must be Sam—appears behind him and nips at his hind quarters.

Jackson turns on the smaller wolf and attacks. The two roll on the ground, their horrible growls filling the air. It seems like more than play. Jackson’s teeth snap, Sam’s answering whine sounds pained.

Jackson once again runs and heaves his enormous body at the door. He seriously is trying to huff and puff this door down. The fact that he doesn’t just shift and use the doorknob tells me he’s incapable of it. And this is why he told me not to let him in.

A shiver runs through me that has nothing to do with the cool mountain air.

So what’s Sam doing? Trying to protect me? Keep Jackson away? It would seem so, because the smaller wolf once more comes after Jackson, nipping him and running away before Jackson can bite him in return. When Jackson ignores him and goes after the door again, Sam repeats the action.

This time, Jackson moves faster, taking a bite out of Sam’s flank. The wolf yips pitifully, and my hand flies to the door handle. I need to stop this before Sam gets hurt. But I’m no wolf. What do I know about stopping a wolf fight? Maybe this is just full moon play.

But no. Jackson stays on Sam, even when Sam rolls over and gives him his belly. The great silver wolf goes for his throat. I scream at the same time Sam transforms into human form.

“Jackson.” The urgency in Sam’s tone scares me.

Dear God, if Jackson’s jaws snap on Sam’s throat in human form, will it kill him? I fly out the door, needing to help.

Sam’s amber gaze swivels to me, alarmed. “No!”

Jackson whirls and leaps to the steps in a single, impossible arc. His shoulder hits my waist and knocks me against the door.

“Ooph.”

Sam transforms back to wolf and makes a similar graceful leap, landing on top of Jackson and throwing him off the steps. The two tussle again.

I cage my scream. Common sense tells me to run back inside the cabin and lock the door, but I can’t let Sam stay out here and get hurt for me. I can’t.

“Jackson!” I yell to distract him.

His head jerks up with a ferocious snarl, and he charges me once more.

Sam moves quicker, leaping through the air and landing between us. Once more, he shifts to human form, reaching for the door knob. “Get. Inside.”

Jackson shifts too, and slams Sam against the wall, choking him with a forearm across Sam’s windpipe. His eyes are ice-blue, eerily inhuman. “Stay. Away from her.”

Sam’s palms fly up in surrender. “You’re…a danger,” he wheezes.

For a moment, I think Jackson will kill Sam, but his eye color starts to bleed into green, and he releases Sam, who gasps and clutches at his throat. Blood drips down Sam’s leg from the earlier bite.

“Sam,” Jackson rasps, regret laced through the single syllable. He cradles Sam’s head and leans his forehead against the younger man’s. “Fuck. Thank you. I’m sorry.”

“You okay?” Sam asks, which seems backwards, since he’s the one who’s hurt. But I know he’s asking if Jackson’s in control.

“Yeah.” Jackson grabs my arm and spins me around, giving my ass a pop. “Get inside, female. I told you not to open that door.”

Butterflies take off in my belly at the hint of punishment to come.

“You want me to stay?” Sam asks as I head inside, as told.

“No, I’m back. Thank you, brother.” There’s a solemnity to the way he speaks, as if he’s uttering a solemn oath or vow. A shiver of recognition of their pack roles gives me gooseflesh.

Jackson steps in, his cock fully engorged, swinging as he walks. He’s an incredible sight—wild, smelling of pine and dirt and the night air. His muscles bulge and shift as he stoops to throw me over his shoulder. His expression is dark. Ravenous.

“Jackson. Jackson. Are you okay?”

He carries me to the bedroom and sets me on my feet. “I don’t know. You tell me. Is it okay to disobey me?” He rips the  T-shirt off me in a swift tug. Wraps a fist in my hair and pulls my head back.

I’m unbelievably turned on, and a smidge scared, because he’s not quite Jackson. There’s a fierce hunger in his face, a controlled violence just below the surface.

He kicks my feet apart. “Spread your legs.”

I obey.

His palm connects with my pussy, a punitive slap. “Wider.”

I spread wider. He slaps my pussy again, still controlling my head with my hair.

“Answer my question. Is it okay to disobey me, kitten?”

Any minute, I’m going to tell him to take it down a notch, make sure this is play and not real. But, apparently, I don’t want that, because my molten pussy aches for his touch and, “N-no,” is the only sound from my lips.

Another slap. Another. It hurts and sings at once. Slap. Slap. He continues spanking my lady parts. My legs tremble, and I wonder if I can come from pussy spanking alone.

I don’t get to find out. “Bad girl,” he murmurs in my ear. His huge palm kneads my ass. He doesn’t sound the least bit angry. All I hear is excitement. Seduction. He wiggles a finger between my cheeks and presses on my anus.

I jerk in surprise, tightening my cheeks in embarrassment.

“I’m going to have to fuck your ass for this.”

He releases my hair and stalks around the bed, throwing the pillows in the center.

My poor wobbly legs barely hold me up, and my tummy is all flutters. “Jackson, I don’t think—” I trail off, staring at his enormous erection. No. Way. “You’re too big. I don’t think I can take you.”

He stalks out of the room, and I hear a dark laugh. When he returns, he’s holding a bottle of olive oil from the kitchen. “Oh, you’ll take me, little girl. You’ll take every inch of me. That’s your punishment. When you disobey, kitten, you get it in the ass.”

It sounds like a horrible idea. A terrifying, wonderful, horrible idea. But I can’t bring myself to refuse. My body is wound up in a tight coil, desperate to be sprung.

He slaps my ass. “Lie over the pillows, baby. I’m going to own that hot little body of yours.”

Something akin to a mewl comes from my lips, but I find myself obeying, tottering to the bed and climbing over the pillows. Presenting my ass to him like a cake on a platter.

There’s a dark rumble of approval. I watch over my shoulder as he sheaths his cock and pours a generous amount of oil over it then trickles another stream along my crack.

He crawls over me, one hand fisting his cock, the other massaging oil into my ass, around my anus.

“There are consequences for disobeying your alpha.” He pushes the head of his cock against my anus and waits.

I tighten against his touch, but, a moment later, the muscles give. As soon as they loosen, Jackson pushes forward, penetrating my tight hole.

I let out a keening cry.

He stills, stretching me wide, waiting for me to calm down. The care he takes reassures me that he’s in control, and I yield, willing my pelvic floor to relax. He pushes in farther and the stretch becomes more intense, then eases.

“There. That’s the head. I’m in, baby. Now, take the rest of me.”

I whimper but let all my muscles go slack, arch my back a little, and wait.

“Good girl,” he rumbles, one hand coasting up my side, stroking my skin.

The praise sends curls of warmth through me, and I arch some more.

“That’s it, baby. Take it like a good girl, and I’ll kiss that ripe pussy when I’m through.” He eases in and out, giving me a tremendous sense of urgency each time he fills me.

My ass is stuffed full of his cock, but my pussy feels tragically empty. I reach my hand between my legs to remedy the situation. My flesh is juicy, swollen beyond recognition, even to my familiar fingers.

Jackson growls and catches my wrist, pulling my hand out. “Mine. What did I tell you about touching your pussy? Only I get to master this sweetness.” He covers my body with his, reaching around to cup my mons. It’s exactly what I need. The tremors start through my body.

“Jackson.” The hoarse cry doesn’t even sound like my voice. “Jackson, please.”

“That’s it, baby. Beg me.” He picks up speed, plundering my ass while his fingers fuck me from below. I’m dizzy with lust, drugged with need. The cabin spins and tilts.

“Jackson!” The room fills with keening cries, which must be mine.

A snarl and a roar cut across them, and Jackson plunges deep. I grab his fingers in my pussy and push them deeper and hold them there as I come, too, my vaginal muscles squeezing, anus tightening around his huge girth.

He pulls out too soon, stumbling back, and I twist to see what I already know will be there. Fangs.

He tears off the condom and discards it. Then comes for me.

~.~

Jackson

If I don’t get enough of Kylie, I’ll die. I need to possess her in every way.

Fates, I almost killed Sam out there. My wolf smelled Kylie in the cabin and needed to get inside with a desperation that rocked me. When Sam tried to interfere, the wolf thought he was challenging me for her. Thank fuck he shifted, or I would’ve gone moon sick for sure.

Even now, the fact that I just orgasmed doesn’t ease any of the fierce need sifting through me. I pray if I just keep claiming her, pleasuring her, fucking her, it will appease my wolf enough he won’t mark her.

I pull the pillows out from under her heart-shaped ass and flip her over. Shove her knees apart. Apply my mouth to her core, licking and sucking like my life depends on it.

She’s limp at first, her knees falling open, still languorous after her orgasm. But her fingers come to my hair when I tongue her clit, and she lets out a weak moan. I don’t stop. She tastes like heaven. I feast in her juices, devouring her. I rub her clit, suck and nip her labia.

She tears at my hair, hoarse cries coming from her throat. She’s incredible, the way she gives herself to me, so willing to receive all the pleasure I need to pour on her. Her untrained body is infinitely responsive. I penetrate her with two fingers, find her G-spot on her inner wall, and work it until the tissue hardens and wrinkles.

“Jackson. Jackson. Please. I can’t take any more.” Her knees cinch around my head.

I penetrate her with both tongue and fingers then return to sucking her clit, pumping three fingers in and out of her until she comes for the third time tonight, her channel squeezing and releasing as she lets out a long, keening cry.

I wish it was enough. I know I’ve already exhausted my little human. Precious, beautiful female.

I climb up to sit on the bed and pull her across my lap. Her scent punches me into animal mode again. I spank her pretty ass, fast and hard. “Jesus, kitten. The scent of your arousal makes me crazy. I can always smell when you’re turned on. I knew it that first day in the elevator after I touched you.”

She whimpers, and I register than I’m hurting her but can’t seem to stop. It feels so damn good to smack her juicy ass, and the little cries she grunts she makes only feed my frenzy. My wolf starts to howl.

I spank her until her ass turns red.

“I’m sorry!” she cries, and I work my hand under her hips, twiddle her little clit again. I keep slapping, loving the way her cheeks flatten and spring back under my hand.

“I don’t need you sorry. I only need your surrender. This is the only way I keep my wolf from marking you.”

She wriggles over my hand, her cunt leaking juices down my fingers.

“Do you like that, baby?”

“No…yes…ohhh,” she pants. “Too much. Too much, Jackson. I can’t take any more.”

I push her off my lap, but there’s no stopping me. “Inside you,” I growl. I lift her to her hands and knees then force her upper body down, so her face presses into the covers. Somehow, miraculously, I remember to don another condom. I snap it on and push into her wet heat. My fangs punch out longer; a snarl rips from my throat.

Don’t mark. Just. Fuck.

Mate, the wolf roars.

Just. Fuck.

My balls slap against her, cock sliding in and out of her tight channel. She takes all of me in this position, takes me deep. My thighs shake, balls draw up tight.

She moans and wails, her cries both pitiful and wanton at once. Her pussy is still wet and willing. Generous in how hard a fucking it takes.

Just fuck just fuck just fuck. Don’t. Bite.

I come again with a roar. Kylie’s screams join my snarl, and she orgasms, milking my cock with her tight muscles, drawing even more cum out of me. I shudder, chills and heat running through me like I have a fever.

Kylie lets out a sob as I slip out of her. I dispose of the condom and catch a whiff of salt. No. A tear slides down her nose.

The scent immediately takes my wolf down. He whimpers and retreats. The lust-induced haze over my brain dissolves. Oh fates—my female. Have I hurt her?

“Baby, baby, baby,” I croon, quickly disposing of the condom. I scoop her into my arms, cradle her against my chest. I settle back on the bed. “Are you hurt?”

“Not hurt…just wrung out.” She tucks her head under my chin, her limp body molding to mine.

“Tell me you’re okay,” I plead.

She kisses my neck. “Yes. I’m okay. I love you.”

I go still, and she stiffens, seeming to realize what slipped out. “I mean—”

“Shh. Don’t you dare take it back,” I warn. I cradle her face in my palm and turn it to look into her warm brown eyes.

“I love you.” I don’t say I love you, too, because I don’t want it to sound less serious than her admission. I utter it like a vow. I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to make things work with a human, especially if every full moon is like this, but I sure as hell have to try. I’m not giving her up for anything.

And that means I need to eliminate all the threats to my female.

“Kylie, I need to know what happened at the Louvre.”

She blinks in surprise and tries to pull away. I literally can see her emotional retreat before my eyes.

“Don’t run,” I command. “Look at me. I need to know.”

“Why?”

“You’ve been in hiding since then. And now you’ve been outed. Are you in danger?”

She shakes her head. “Not for the next seven to ten years.”

“Tell me.”

“It was my father’s partner in the heist. A double-cross. My father planned to return the painting to its rightful owners—relatives of the Jewish family it was stolen from during the war. As soon as they had the painting, he stabbed my dad and took the canvas. He didn’t know I’d come along. Never knew there was a witness. I stayed in hiding as a precaution. I figured if he knew where to find me, he’d want me dead. But, strangely enough, he became the victim of quite a few cyber attacks over the last few years, including one that stole enough evidence to send the FBI after him.” My brave little warrior smiles up at me. “So, I’m safe for now. Until he gets out of jail and comes looking for me.”

I growl. Not good enough. I vow to eliminate that threat completely. But at least I know, for now, she’s safe from that direction.

Kylie lifts her chin. “What about you? Anyone want you dead?”

I rub my forehead. “Maybe. If I returned home, I’d probably be challenged.”

“Why?”

My head suddenly aches. I lean my forehead against hers. “You don’t want to know, baby.”

“I told you mine. You tell me yours.” Her voice is firm, the challenge clear in her eyes. My female is alpha all the way.

“I killed my stepfather.” The only person I’ve ever told before is Sam, although Garrett might know if he’s done any research into my history.

To her credit, Kylie doesn’t flinch, doesn’t show any shock. She touches my face. “What happened?”

“He was the pack leader. Alpha. A first class asshole. Beat my mom regularly. Not like a spanking, the way wolves establish dominance. With his fists.”

Kylie pales but remains quiet.

“He put my mom in the hospital once. Shifters heal fast, so you have to know how bad it was.” The memories raced back to him. Seeing his mother bloodied and battered on that hospital bed. I’m not going back, Jackson, she told him. You don’t go back, either.

“She didn’t heal. I can only guess she didn’t want to. Or that he’d battered her mind so badly, too, that the ability to heal shut off.” I was only fourteen. Old enough to want to fight my stepfather, but too small to stop him. “She died three days later. I watched her just slip away. And I…” My throat works. I don’t want to tell her this part.

She strokes my arm, listening. Waiting.

“I killed him.”

“How?”

“Don’t ask me that, baby. I don’t want you to think of me—”

“You can tell me,” she murmurs. “It won’t change how I feel about you.”

Like hell it won’t.

“I ran home from the hospital. My fangs were probably down like they were tonight. I’d only just started shifting and had little control of the animal inside. He heard me snarling and came outside the house. Stood there like a son of a bitch with his hands on his hips. What? he sneered. Your mama send you after me, boy? Is she still pretending not to heal?

“It’s hard to kill a shifter. A bullet to the head usually does it. Or severing the head. There was an ax sitting there on the chopping block. I picked it up and came at him. I said something like, She’s dead, you miserable piece of shit and then I swung. I figured he’d stop me. Maybe kill me, too. I’d tried to fight him before and always ended up bloody.

“But he just stood there as I came at him. Probably the shock of hearing he’d really killed her. He shifted after the blow, but it was too late. He died just a few seconds later.”

Her breath hitches, but she keeps her face smooth. “Wow. That’s…intense. I’m sorry, Jackson. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” She blinks her big doe-eyes up at me, and they swim with sympathy.

Not horror.

Relief pours through me. Lightens the heaviness in my chest I’ve carried every day since my mother’s death. Sharing my terrible secret with Kylie eases the burden of it.

“So then what happened? You left? Do you have a buried identity like me? Are you wanted for murder somewhere?”

“Yeah, I left. I didn’t lose my identity. No one ever came after me. No police reports were filed, but I’m from the backwoods of North Carolina, where the entire town was made up of shifters, sheriff included. Shifter business is generally kept to shifters.”

“And you haven’t been back?”

I shake my head. “Never. I left a much younger stepbrother behind. I hate myself for that. But the whole town was made up of my stepfather’s extended family. He would’ve been well taken care of. I knew that much.”

“You took Sam in to make up for it.”

My eyebrows shoot up at her guess. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

She tucks her head under my chin and hums softly. I can’t believe I’m snuggling. With a human. And nothing has ever felt so right in my life.

I stroke her hair. “I won’t let anything happen to you, kitten.” Even if it means protecting her from myself.