Shaya began the introductions. “Everyone, this is Gwen. Gwen, this here is my mate, Nick. Ignore the scowl. It’s nothing personal. He’s just not much of a smiler.”
Gwen just nodded at the blond, indomitable-looking male near the fireplace, refusing to be intimidated by the alpha energy emanating from him. She turned back to Shaya. “I’ve been around Zander for a few days, so I’m sort of used to the intense stares at this point.”
Shaya’s smile widened. “Good, that helps. Near the window are Eli and Roni, Nick’s siblings.”
Gwen met Eli’s analytical gaze, thinking he was just as daunting as his brother even though he wasn’t quite as tall. “I see you’ve got the scowling thing going on too.”
Roni snickered, flicking long ash-blonde locks over her shoulder. “He’s not upset with you. I put salt in his coffee.”
Gwen’s mouth curved. “I did that to my brother once. It’s every sibling’s right.”
Roni smiled. “I totally agree.”
Shaya pointed to a small brunette standing at the rear of the room, arms folded in a way that was almost petulant. “That’s Nick’s mom, Kathy. As you can see, she’s good at the scowling too. Lastly, we have Jesse and Harley over there by the door. They’re a mated pair.”
Gwen could already sense they were mated by how intimately close they stood. She studied the golden-eyed female closely. “You don’t seem like a wolf.”
One dark, perfectly plucked brow arched. “I don’t?”
“Walking around the shelter—which I think is pretty awesome—I noticed different kinds of shifters seem to have different . . . airs about them. You have a feline air.”
Harley’s mouth curled and she bowed her head slightly, making her dark hair fall forward enough that Gwen noticed the burgundy highlights. “Very good,” said Harley.
“Perceptive,” agreed Jesse.
“She reads Zander so well it’s not even funny,” said Bracken, a smile in his voice.
Zander shot him a hard look, but the enforcer just smirked.
“Did Andie settle at the shelter okay?” asked Shaya.
Gwen nodded. “Yeah. She said she’d give it a try but that if she changed her mind she’d give me a call.”
“Give you a call?” echoed Zander.
“So I can go pick her up and bring her back to Oregon,” Gwen explained. “I don’t think that’ll happen, though. She seemed comfortable there.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” Bracken yawned. “Any chance of a coffee before I go pack more of my shit, Kathy?”
The woman humphed as she crossed the room. Her eyes danced from Gwen to Zander. “I suppose you both want one too?” she said snottily.
“No, thanks.” Gwen touched her stomach. “I’m bloated after my meal at the shelter.”
Shooting Kathy a “back-off” look that she was wise enough to heed, Zander said, “I need to go to my lodge. I don’t want to stay here long in case the Moores or any people they hire turn up at the B&B while we’re not there.” Ally and Derren would need backup.
Bracken nodded. “I’ll go get my stuff once I’ve had my coffee.”
Zander cupped Gwen’s elbow, ready to lead her out of the lodge. “Anything more from Rory?” he asked nobody in particular. His wolf curled his upper lip at the mere mention of Rory.
“No,” replied Jesse. “We left a camera at his apartment. He returned to it yesterday and took a few things. He was gone before we got there.”
“We haven’t seen him lingering around,” Eli added. “Derren told us about the goshawk attack.” His eyes cut to Gwen. “Must have been pretty scary for you.”
“I’m not gonna admit to fear in front of a bunch of predators,” she said with a smile.
Eli’s mouth twitched. “No one would blame you for being freaked by such an attack.”
Zander looked at his Alpha. “I want to know what flock it was.”
“We’ll find out, and they’ll pay,” Nick stated firmly.
With a satisfied nod, Zander ushered Gwen outside. He had to admit that she’d handled his pack like a pro. She hadn’t let the unwelcoming vibes faze her or bristled at the scowls directed her way. She’d let it all wash over her, dismissing the behavior but not in a way that was snarky or disrespectful. His wolf was impressed.
As they crossed the lush land toward the woods, grass rustling beneath their feet, Zander noticed her looking at the outdoor play area on their far left. “Shaya designed that. We all pitched in to build it for the pups.”
“How many pups are there?”
“Two. Both girls.”
“It’s pretty cool. I’ll bet the kids love it.” She took a long breath. The air was so fresh here, so alive with various scents. Wildflowers. Pine. Moss. Sun-warmed earth. It all spoke to her on some level. “I like your pack.”
“There’s a lot more of them.” He glanced back at the lodge. “It doesn’t bother you that some were a little curt?” It had bothered him. It had bothered him more when Eli’s eyes took a long scan of Gwen’s legs, although some weird part of him had gotten off on it too.
“This is their home. They’re protective of it. I wouldn’t expect them to welcome someone here who they didn’t know or trust.” Gwen jerked back at the whine of a bee as it rushed by. She didn’t like anything that buzzed. It just wasn’t normal.
As they walked into the trees, escaping the glare of the sun, she exhaled a happy sigh. “Listen, I got the impression by what was said that your pack’s having trouble with some Rory-person. If so, maybe you should stay here with them. I can have Marlon come pick me up.” She didn’t realize how much she wanted him to decline her offer until he actually shook his head. Relief poured through her. Too much relief. It was disconcerting.
“They don’t need my help dealing with Rory.”
“Is he an Alpha of another pack?”
Pleased that she’d asked a question without adding something like ‘You don’t have to answer,’ Zander replied, “He’s not an Alpha. He’s my identical twin. Lives in another pack.”
“Really? Huh.” Gwen skimmed her hand over a birch tree, feeling the rough bark. She liked it. Liked the sound of the twigs crunching beneath her shoes, the twittering of the birds, and the branches shuddering. Noticing Zander was looking at her funny, she frowned. “What?”
“I’m waiting for you to ask me dumb questions.”
Her frown deepened. “Like what?”
“Like can me and Rory hear each other’s thoughts? Can we feel each other’s pain? If you pinch me, will he feel it?
“I’m assuming by the cynical note in your voice that those things definitely don’t apply to you and your brother.”
“Your assumption is right, but people tend to automatically assume we have some kind of mystical connection. They’re often surprised to hear we don’t get along, let alone that we don’t find it hard to be apart.”
“I always figured it would have been fun to have an identical twin.”
“It isn’t always as much fun as people assume.” He paused as they stepped over a crumbling log. “Think of someone who pisses you off easier than they can breathe. Now imagine living with them, seeing them every day, sharing a room with them, having to deal with them doing whatever they can to irritate and goad you.”
Oh yeah, that would have been a level of hell. Fingering a berry bush, she asked, “Have you ever gotten along?”
“I don’t remember there being a time when we ever did. Even when we were toddlers, I remember him always trying to be the leader because he was born first. But I didn’t want a leader, and I didn’t want to lead him. His first word was ‘mine.’ Apparently, my first word was ‘shush.’ Even then he must have annoyed me.”
“There was never any rivalry between me, Marlon, and Julie. None of us fought for Yvonne’s attention or anything.”
“Good. People say that sibling rivalry is normal . . . a rite of passage that builds character. Maybe it is healthy when you’re a kid, but it sure never
felt that way.” He neatly sidestepped a patch of spongy moss. “What fed the rivalry was that we were each other’s measuring stick. The first thing people seemed to do was tally our differences. When people talked about us, it was often comparing us rather than describing us as individuals. Who was born first? Who crawled first? Who walked first? Who spoke first?”
She nodded in understanding. “Ah. I can see how that would make things worse.”
“Plus, we were expected to share everything. We didn’t always have our own stuff. He didn’t like to share. When people bought us gifts, they often got us the same thing in an effort to be fair. That didn’t help. He’d always lose his stuff and swear that I’d taken it.
“When we got older, we’d have our own things, but he hated that. He believed whatever I had was better simply because I had it, so then he wanted it. I was often told to give him stuff just to keep the peace. But there was no real peace in that house.”
Pissed on Zander’s behalf, she asked, “What did your parents do?”
“Nothing. Mom would always excuse his behavior, so he was never held accountable for anything. If you’re not taught something’s wrong, how can anyone expect you to regret it? Why would you ever feel the need to change? I’m not saying it’s completely her fault that he is the way he is. We each have our own mind. But that’s the mental path he went down. If he’s ever in his life felt guilty for anything, I’d be surprised.”
“But . . . why did she excuse his behavior?”
“He was Mom’s golden boy, and she felt guilty for him almost dying after he donated a kidney to me when we were kids. Dad thought it was normal for us to battle it out. Did you know that sibling competition begins in spotted hyenas at birth? At least twenty-five percent of their pups are killed by siblings. It’s the Cain Complex, right? The unconscious, secret wish to kill your sibling.”
She blinked. “You think he’d like to see you dead?”
“I think he wouldn’t care if I was. I don’t know how much money Rory was expecting to inherit from our uncle—probably all of it, since he has that sense of entitlement—but he wasn’t happy whatsoever to hear he’d been left a dollar.”
She couldn’t help that her mouth quirked. “Wow. Your uncle pissed him off even after his death.”
“Rory wants half of what I inherited. He thinks it’s his due. He’ll toy with the pack until I give him what he feels he’s entitled to have.”
“Will you give it to him?”
“No. He’s not entitled to it, and he wouldn’t use it smartly anyway.” Zander gestured at the lodge ahead of them. “Here we are.”
It was a hell of a lot nicer than the cabin on her property, she thought. In fact, it was more like a miniature version of the Alphas’ lodge, except that there were only two floors, and the frame was all timber. Still, it was big and bold in its way.
To the side of the lodge was a cutting stump and woodpile. “I have a sudden vision of you shirtless and sweaty, chopping wood with an ax. Don’t know if you do it shirtless. That’s just the image that my dirty mind came up with.”
Zander chuckled. “Your mind can’t be half as dirty as mine, baby.” He led her onto the porch and then into the lodge, closing the door behind them.
The interior was exactly like him, Gwen thought. Masculine. Organized. Stylish in a simple way, no frills or splashes of color.
Like the Alphas’ lodge, it had an open-plan living, dining, and kitchen area. The dark-cream oversize sofa and recliners looked damn comfortable—she’d test that theory in a minute. The weathered coffee table was a rich, oiled wood that gleamed as the sun shone through the windows. The stone fireplace should have been the focal point, but the wide-screen TV stood out more. It seemed to be the most expensive thing there, but she could see that the style of the furniture was deliberately understated.
“Nice,” she said, turning to face him. “Suits you.”
She suited him, Zander thought. He drew her to him and kissed her, practically pouring the possessiveness he’d bottled up right down her throat. She kissed him back with a soft moan that was like a stroke to his quickly hardening cock.
He’d meant to keep the kiss slow and easy, since they couldn’t stay long and needed to get back. But he found himself gripping her braid and angling her head to deepen the kiss. His wolf pushed him to take her right there in his lodge. The beast wanted her scent to be all over it.
Zander snapped open her fly and shoved his fingers inside her panties, pausing as soon as he found her clit. She bucked against his hand, but he did nothing other than circle her clit with the tip of his finger. He swiped his tongue over her lower lip. “Such a gorgeous mouth. It deserves to be fucked, don’t you think?”
“Not really.”
He fought a smile. “Yeah, you’ll put that pretty mouth on my cock one day. Not today.” He flicked her clit. “Today I want to feel my baby’s sweet little pussy squeeze my dick like it’s hers.” He took her mouth again, feasting greedily as he played with her clit. “Shirt off, Gwen.” She quickly shed both her shirt and bra. “Good.” He thrust one finger inside her, rewarding her. “Now the rest.” Breathing hard, she kicked off her shoes and then shoved down her shorts and panties. He traced the shell of her ear with his tongue and whispered, “So good for me.” He sank another finger inside her.
Splaying his free hand on her lower back to still her, Zander fucked her with his fingers. Hard. Fast. Growling at the prick of her nails on his nape. He kept his mouth pressed to hers, tasting every moan and gasp. Soon, her pussy fluttered around his fingers. “That’s it. Give me that come, baby.” He kept his fingers buried deep as she came, growling into her mouth as her cream soaked his fingers.
Shaking a little, Gwen double-blinked, caught up in her post-orgasm buzz. She couldn’t take her eyes off Zander as he withdrew his hand from her panties and, holding her gaze, sucked his fingers clean. Damn. She tore open his fly and wrapped her hand around his cock. He was long and hard, and he seemed to thicken even more as she pumped him with a tight fist.
“I can have you any way I want,” he rumbled, closing his hand around her breast. “Tell me. Say it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Actually—”
He yanked hard on her hair. “Don’t get bratty with me. I don’t reward bratty.” He pinched her nipple. “Tell me.”
Gwen almost shivered at the growl that rattled his chest. Sensing he wasn’t going to give in because, yeah, he was a total asshole sometimes, she relented, “You can have me any way you want.”
“That’s my baby.” He walked her backward, spun her around, and then bent her over the plush arm of the sofa. “Spread those legs for me. Very good.” He punched his hips, driving his cock inside her. She was so tight and swollen that he only made it halfway. “Take it all, Gwen.” He reared back and thrust hard, burying every inch of his cock deep in her pussy. Her slick walls clamped down on him, squeezing him so tight he was surprised he didn’t see stars.
“Zander,” she breathed, “I’m not gonna last long. Just saying.”
He doubted he’d last long either. She felt like liquid fucking fire, and it almost ate at what little control he had. “Tell me if it gets too much.” He rode her hard. Took and fucked and possessed her body, driven by something dark and primal inside him. Only she touched that part of him. Only she woke and taunted it until his control was close to being nothing but a distant memory. No one had ever called to him on such a primitive level before, and he was past the point of caring.
Gwen closed her eyes, letting him sweep her away. Before Zander, she’d never had sex so intense in her life. It was always rough and carnal. Probably should have been a little too rough, but she loved every moment of it. Her eyes snapped open as a wet finger probed the rim of her ass. “Zander—”
“Nobody’s ever had this, have they?”
“No.”
“I will.”
She wanted to deny it, but then his finger slid inside and her breath caught in her throat. She didn
’t think it would feel good, but it did. Waves of sensation overwhelmed her—his cock stretching her walls, a strong hand holding her in place, a finger thrusting in and out of her ass. She could feel her release barreling toward her, knew it would hit her any second now.
Zander wrapped her braid around his hand and yanked hard. “Up.”
But it was too late—the bite of pain to her scalp had thrown her over, and white-hot pleasure whipped through her. She felt Zander’s weight on her back as he sank his teeth into her shoulder and rammed his cock deep, felt the hot splash of his come as her pussy contracted around him, as if greedy for every drop. And then her strength just left her.
She slumped over the sofa, breathing hard. God, the guy was good. It was like he’d taken a crash course on how to play her body or something.
Zander hummed against her neck. “I needed that.”
She snorted. “You say that like you’ve gone without sex for months. We had it this morning.”
“And you’ve been parading those legs in front of me all morning and afternoon.”
Her head snapped up. “Parading?”
“Yeah, parading.” Pulling out of her, he helped her straighten and then turned her to face him. “I love seeing your eyes all sex-drunk.”
She chuckled. “Sex-drunk?” Well, she kind of liked seeing his gaze the way it was now . . . all lazy and languid. “I need to clean up.”
“Bathroom’s upstairs.”
Once they were done and they’d righted their clothing, Zander said, “I’m going to pack my stuff so we can leave. Sit. Relax. Or go take a look around—whatever you want. I won’t be long.”
Deciding to wait downstairs so that they wouldn’t end up testing the endurance of the bedsprings, Gwen crossed to the recliner and sank into it with a groan. Oh yeah, it was as comfy as it looked.
Sprawled there, she read the spines of the books that were lined up neatly on the oak shelf, but she soon found her eyes drifting shut. Maybe it was that she felt safe here. Maybe it was that it had been a long morning and afternoon. Whatever it was that made her feel so relaxed that she could just nap, she wished she could bottle it up.