Alpha’s Danger: Chapter 3

Amber

“Look at all the pretty colors,” Foxfire cries over the noise of the band. She turns slowly on her barstool before catching herself on our table, doubling over and laughing. Then she makes a swipe for my drink.

“Whoa there, sister.” I hold my cosmo out of reach. I’ve been nursing it since I got here, out of solidarity to my grieving friend. Alcohol this soon after a monster headache episode is a bad idea.

“Sam, I need another one!” Apparently, she thinks she’s on a first-name basis with the bartender.

I catch his eye and give a small shake of my head, and he ignores her. “I think it’s time we switched to water.”

Foxfire pouts and shakes her head before barking with laughter again.

Let the record reflect: When liquoring up a friend so she can forget her ex, make sure she’s eaten first.

“Maybe we should go outside, get some air,” I suggest.

Foxfire isn’t listening. She lifts her empty glass and waggles her tongue into it before setting it down with a clunk.

“So thirsty,” she whines.

“I’ll get us some waters, but you have to stay right here, okay?”

I hop down from the chair to head to the other end of the bar where I can have a private conversation with Sam the bartender about not serving her again tonight. I take my cosmo with me. Foxfire spins slowly in her chair with a drunk, unfocused look. Of the two of us, she’s definitely the wild, fun one, but I’ve never seen her like this before. Maybe she took something when she went to the bathroom. I would’ve gone with her but this soon after a bad spell I don’t like being in close spaces with too many people, and this place is packed.

What was I thinking, coming here? Hunching my shoulders, I weave through the crowd three deep around the bar, trying to make myself less of a target. Too much noise, too many people. One touch too many, and I’ll end up in the middle of a vision.

Let the record reflect: Next girls’ night out, I will stick to Netflix and chill.

A shout goes up, and I whirl. Some girl is making a scene on the dance floor. A few security guys, as big and hulking as my thug neighbors, converge on the scene. More shrieking, and one of the security guys lifts the belligerent drunk.

Crap, it’s Foxfire, her multicolored hair flying everywhere.

“Excuse me, excuse me,” I push back through pockets of people, no time to keep from touching. Their feelings and thoughts wash over me like the colors of the light show. I arrive at Foxfire’s side, lurching like I’m also drunk. Security takes one look at me and hikes a thumb to the door.

“Is she okay?” I straighten, projecting I’m sober and responsible vibes as hard as I can. “I just left her for a moment.”

“Miss—”

“I just wanna dance!” Foxfire shouts, and windmills her arms.

“Okay.” A security guard the size of the Terminator points us towards the back. “Time to go.”

“I’ve got her. I’ll get her out of here.” I bob next to him, reaching for my friend. I barely come up to his biceps. “Only I’m parked out front and you’re taking us to the back—”

I spring back as Foxfire doubles over and starts retching.

“You need to leave,” the bouncer says without a flicker of expression. He really does remind me of the Terminator, looming over me. “Both of you.”

“Okay, okay, we were just leaving. But I’m parked out front.”

“I don’t care. You’re going out the back door. Now, move it.”

Foxfire doubles over again and a second bouncer catches her arm, dragging her forward. “Not in here,” he snaps, his double-pierced lip giving him an extra-menacing edge. He reminds me of my thug neighbors. What is with these guys wanting metal all over their faces?

“Hey!” I run beside them. “You need to slow down. She’s obviously not feeling well.”

The thug bouncer just tows her onward, dragging her when she stumbles.

“Stop,” I cry. “You’re going to give her bruises. Don’t you think getting her a glass of water or helping her to the bathroom would be a bit more in line?”

He propels Foxfire onto the patio in time for her to lean over and puke in a potted plant.

“Out,” he thunders, pointing to the door to the parking lot.

“Just wait three minutes.” I dive to hold back Foxfire’s hair. “Back off, or I’ll call the cops.”

“You’re eighty-sixed. You need to get out—”

“Stop.” A command ripples through the air. An enormous blond man unfolds himself from one of the patio chairs.

I double take. “Garrett?”

Two strides and my gorgeous new neighbor is at my side, staring Metal Face down. “Leave her alone.”

“But she—”

“Enough.” Garrett has quiet authority down pat. The guy shuts right up. “Go work the floor.”

The Terminator’s hands clamp down on the second bouncer’s shoulders, pulling him back inside.

“Anything else, boss?” Terminator rumbles. “You need help out here?”

“No, get back inside. I’ll take care of them.”

I help Foxfire to a chair, digging for the wet wipes I always have stashed in my purse.

“She okay?” Garrett asks.

“She will be.”

A cocktail waitress bustles out with a tray of waters. “Garrett? Tank said you’d need these.”

“Thanks, Stacy. Make sure no one comes back here, okay?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

“Good girl,” Garrett murmurs absently. His eyes are on me.

The waitress flushes and licks her huge, glossy lips, and I feel a surge of hatred.

“You work here?” I ask as soon as she leaves.

“I own the place.” He leans against the wall, arms crossed, muscles stretching his black T-shirt. Same jeans, same leather motorcycle boots.

I swallow. “I didn’t realize.”

“I know you didn’t.” Same smirk. He’s been toying with me. The owner of Eclipse also owns half the downtown real estate, including my apartment building.

My new neighbor is a business owner, not a thug.

“I thought—” I stop. I can’t tell him he dresses like a derelict.

Head in hands, Foxfire moans.

“Um, I’m sorry about this,” I stand, hands fluttering as if I could conjure away the situation. “We don’t usually party this hard.”

“One drink is partying hard?”

I blink. “You were watching me?”

He inclines his head yes.

“You really should talk to your bartenders. You could be held liable for overserving—”

“Amber.” One word stops me. He steps into my space, his body heat washing over me. Instead of feeling intimidated, I relax. Safe. “You feeling okay? Last time I saw you—”

“I’m fine,” I half turn away, pretending not to be affected, even though every inch of me buzzes, aware, alive.

“You sure about that?” His voice rumbles low, sending a shiver across my skin.

“I’m sure,” I whisper. After all, what am I going to tell him? You touched me, and the visions came, but the pain went away.

“Here are your waters,” the waitress chirps. Her lips seem extra shiny with gloss. Her gaze flickers over Garrett and I standing close together, and she looks disappointed.

Without thinking, I step into Garrett until my shoulder touches him, as if he’s mine, and I have a right to be in the circle of his arms.

A soft chuckle sounds above my head. I tilt my face up, ready to meet his smirk, and, just like that, the hallucination hits me.

My vision blurs. Images flip before my eyes, too fast for me to catch. A movie on fast forward.

I’m back in the elevator, with Garrett and his two friends. This time, I run out to the apartment parking lot. They follow, dropping to all fours, turning into wolves under the giant, glowing eye of the full moon.

“Amber?”

I shake myself, coming to. I’m in Garrett’s arms, clinging to his shirt. My entire body flashes hot then cold.

“Werewolf,” I breathe, staring into the handsome face that, only seconds before, was a wolf.

Garrett jerks, almost dropping me, and his brow wrinkles. “What did you just say?” There’s a sharp menace to his voice and alarm kicks through me.

It’s true. He’s a werewolf. And he doesn’t look happy that I know.

“Nothing.” I push away. Beyond him, the clouds part. The moon is full. I need to get out of there. Quick.

“Foxfire, come on.” I slip her arm over my shoulder and stand, ignoring her groan.

“Amber, stop,” Garrett commands, but I ignore him.

Foxfire and I make it to my car, and, by the time I unload her into the back seat and get her buckled in, my heart has stopped racing. My mind is still running marathons, though. What did I just see? Could it be real? No—that’s ridiculous. It was a hallucination. Not real.

“Werewolves don’t exist,” I mutter.

“Amber.”

I leap up with a shriek.

Garrett’s standing there, a huge hunk of silent menace in the shadows. “We need to talk.”

Prickles race over my skin. In answer, I scramble to my side, slam the door, and squeal the tires outta there. It doesn’t matter who Garrett is, or how much real estate he owns, or whether it’s true he turns four legged and furry every full moon.

Werewolves may not exist, but the vision made it clear. Garrett is a threat.

~.~

Garrett

As Amber’s little hatchback peels outta my parking lot, I touch my tongue to one of my canines to make sure they’re still human sized. Little Miss Prim and Proper nearly fainted in my arms—again—then stared at my teeth, the whites of her eyes reflecting the moon.

Werewolves don’t exist.

“Fuck,” I mutter. My teeth haven’t changed. My vision is the same—not domed with the oncoming change. I was on the patio to get some air and space for my wolf, but it wasn’t like I was howling. Werewolf, she said. How did she guess?

“You okay, boss?” Tank strides across the lot to me.

I straighten, stuffing down my wolf. “Heading home. You okay to lock up?”

“Sure thing. Who was that?” He jerks a chin at the way Amber’s car went. “You know her?”

“She’s a lawyer. Uptight as fuck. She’s also my neighbor.”

“Human?”

“You know she is,” I say sharply. Tank was one of the few older wolves who followed me from my father’s pack. His wolf is huge and dominant, though not more dominant than mine. I suspect he was sent by my father to keep an eye on me, though it’s just as likely that, as a consummate bachelor, he prefers my pack to one made up mostly of mated pairs. Quiet, strong, loyal, he makes a great enforcer. One of these days, I’m going to make him my official Second. As soon as I know for sure he’s not spying on me for my dad.

“Trey and Jared mentioned a little blonde neighbor. They think you have a thing for her. Said they scented her on you later.” He says it like it’s casual gossip, but I hear the note of censure, and it pisses me off.

“Worried I’m banging a non-shifter?” Shifters don’t usually mate with humans, but that doesn’t mean a wolf can’t sow his wild oats. There are no laws against it, although more traditional packs—like my dad’s—frown on it. I don’t. Which is probably why so many bachelor wolves followed me when I left to start my own pack.

“They said you claimed her.” Yep. The censorship in Tank’s voice is real.

I face him and crack my knuckles. “I told them to stay away, that doesn’t mean I mated her. You have a problem here?”

“Dating a human is tricky business. Fucking them is fine, but a real relationship? Quickly becomes a problem. They can’t know about us. The rule is—”

“I know the old laws. Have you forgotten who my father is?” I hate invoking my father’s authority, but Tank is old school. Some think I wouldn’t control my own pack if I didn’t have my father backing my rule. It’s not true. I’ve never asked him to back me up on anything, but I guess the threat is there, nonetheless.

“No.” Tank drops his gaze. “I don’t mean disrespect. I protect the pack.”

Authority acknowledged, my wolf backs down. I clap him on the back. The difference between me and my dad is I know when to be a hardass and when to be a friend.

“You and me both. I’ll never risk the safety of my wolves over a human. This one is under my protection, but that’s all. My wolf took a shine to her.” Shit, that sounds even more suspicious. My wolf has no business sniffing around a human. Shifters mate shifters. End of story.

I crack my knuckles again, rubbing my tattoos. Full moon makes me antsy. I’m not a newbie who has to shift, but the desire is there.

“I’m heading out. Tell Trey and Jared no after-work party, or they’ll be on dish duty for a month.”

“Right, boss.” Tank tilts his head, showing his neck a little in deference. He doesn’t argue, or point out that my explanation of who Amber is and what she means to me falls short. Wolf packs aren’t democracies. My word is law. All the more reason not to be an asshole like my father.

But Tank was right to give his warning. We all know the rules. Outsiders can’t know about us. In the old days, there was only one way to deal with a human who’d learned the shifter secret.If Amber knows what I think she knows, she might have to die.

~.~

A long, winding ride does nothing to calm my wolf. All too soon, I find myself striding down the hall of my apartment building straight to Amber’s door.

My phone buzzes, and I pull it out. There’s a text from my sister with lots of happy face and palm tree emojis. Arrived in San Carlos. XXOO.

I shake my head, fight a grin as I refocus on the matter at hand.

An outsider knows our secret. My wolf doesn’t think of her as an outsider, though. He wants to protect her as much as I want to protect my sister.

Leaning close to the door, my skin tingles as I pick up Amber’s sultry scent. Inside, a TV is on low, and I hear her moving around. Amber must have dropped off her friend and come back here. There’s no other scent.

I knock on the door. The apartment falls quiet.

“Amber.”

More silence.

“I know you’re in there. It’s Garrett. I need to talk to you.”

Her scent grows stronger. There’s a slight rustle just behind the door. I realize I’m gripping the doorknob and pull my hand away. I don’t need to crush another thing this month.

“Open up.” I lower my voice. She’s right there, on the other side.

She doesn’t answer.

I throw some authority into my voice. “Amber, open the door.”

“I’m busy.”

“Open it. Now.”

“Go away. Or I’ll call the cops.”

“No.” I splay my hand on the door, as if I can feel her through the wood. “Calling the cops would seriously piss me off, and believe me, little girl, you don’t want to see me mad.” True story: I don’t want her to see me mad. “Now, open the door.”

“Go to hell. I’m not afraid of you.”

The corners of my lips tug upward, despite the seriousness of the situation. I love her bravado. She’s so fucking cute. “Right. So, if you’re not afraid, open the door.” When she doesn’t answer, I ball my hand into a fist. “Open it, or I’ll bust it in, Amber.”

“I’m calling the cops.”

“No cops. Door. Now.” I’m not used to being disobeyed—by my wolves or by humans. Usually, when I show my authority, people jump.

She moves away. Is she calling the cops?

Fuck. I’m so used to people following my orders, I didn’t think she’d actually go through with her threat. I angle my ear to the door but don’t hear her speaking. Instead…dammit. That’s the sound of her balcony door snicking open. Where is she going?

The image of her attempting the crazy and dangerous gymnastic feat of leaping to the neighboring balcony to escape throws me into full shifter protection mode. My fangs punch out to defend her from the invisible enemy of gravity. I race back to my apartment and run out to the balcony.

Fuckity fuck fuck!

The crazy little human has climbed over the edge of her balcony and is inching her way to the fire escape ladder.

I swallow the shout that chokes my throat, not wanting to scare her. She’s obviously already terrified if she thinks climbing off her balcony is a better option than facing me. But, yeah, I guess finding out your neighbor is a werewolf would scare the shit out of most humans.

I dash to the stairwell and take each landing in one leap, skipping the stairs altogether. On the first floor, I bang the door open and jog around to the back of the building. Adrenaline pulses through me, bringing on a partial shift. My skin ripples before I take a deep breath and settle. My night vision sharpens.

There. Amber, still in her little skirt and blouse from the club, her hair in her usual bun. She’s climbing down the metal rungs of the fire escape, barefoot. Her foot slips a little, and she yelps, clinging to the railing. She’s going too fast.

I race over just as she loses her footing again and slips. With a little scream, she falls the rest of the way—about a story and a half—right into my arms. I catch her easily but soften my body to cushion her landing, letting her knock me to the ground. A grunt escapes as I hit the cement. For a second, I just lie there, cock growing hard at the feel of her in my arms.

She’s breathing, heart racing. Her scent, sweet citrus and spice, makes me dizzy. I rest a hand on her back, encouraging her to lie still, her breasts pressed against my chest. Maybe she’ll take the hint and relax into me.

No such luck. She pushes up, straddling me as she stares down.

Oh, honey. Not a good idea.

My cock thinks it’s a fabulous idea. It strains against my jeans, wanting more contact. “That was a stupid-ass move.”

She scrambles up, but I catch her, coming to my feet to swing her over my shoulder. I’m halfway to the stairwell when she starts to struggle.

“Put me down, Garrett! I will scream.”

Interesting she hasn’t already screamed. Just like she didn’t call the cops. Maybe she obeys better than I thought.

Either way, I have the upper hand, and I intend to keep it.

I hoist her higher on my shoulder, cutting off her protests. I give her bottom a slap, which is a big mistake. It’s got to be the cutest ass I’ve ever seen, and now that I’ve smacked it once, I’m dying for more contact. I want to squeeze it, stroke it, smack it again.

She sucks in a breath. I scent feminine arousal.

Oh, honey, it’s on.

I carry her in through the back door, taking the steps two at a time. I blow past her apartment and slide the key into my lock, kicking open the door.

As I carry her inside, she starts struggling again. I shut the door and stride to the couch, where I plop down and pull her over my knee. Now that the idea’s in my head, I can’t let it go.

“Never, ever run from a wolf.” I deliver three hard slaps to her tight little ass. How I keep from squeezing it when I’m done, I’m not sure.

“Ow,” she yelps and kicks. “Knock it off.”

Her wriggling only turns me on more. I can’t resist three more spanks, just as hard. The scent of her arousal fills the room. The need to fuck hits me so hard, I have to pause with my hand splayed over her ass. And she waits, silent, draped over my knees like the good little submissive she is.

Got your number, princess.

I shove the short skirt up and nearly groan at the sight of her panties. Fucking pink satin. With tiny black bows at the bottom of each cheek. The curves beneath the fabric blush with my handprints. My wolf howls with satisfaction. “Oh that’s pretty, baby,” I murmur.

She starts to wriggle again, so I pick up spanking, slapping her panty-clad ass with slow, deliberate strokes.

“You never run from a wolf because it triggers our hunting instinct. You don’t want to be caught by the animal, baby. Not a delicate little human like you.”

She lets out a wanton moan and rolls her hips to and fro as I spank her pert little ass. Her hip rubs over my aching cock, torturing me with every small movement.

I pull her panties up into her crack, baring more of her cute ass. Her cheeks are already rosy from the punishment I’ve laid down, but, now that I’ve started, I’m in no mood to stop. Not when it feels so good to master her. Not when she loves to hate it. I can tell because the sweet nectar of her arousal fills the room, driving my wolf mad with desire.

I slap her bare cheeks, the sound laying down the beat for her vocalizations—the cutest little cries and grunts.

Only when one cry sounds a little too much like a sob do I stop.

Shit.

Did I go too far? Wolves are physical creatures. We’re swift to issue consequences—usually physical. Females get spanked by their mates. But she’s not one of us.

I rub her reddened cheeks, lift her up, and sit her on my lap. Her curves fit perfectly. “And do not let me catch you endangering your life like that again. You scared the crap out of me.”

“I scared you?”

Her little skirt is up to her waist, bare thigh and panties filling my eyes. My cock aches, and I bite back the growl rising in my throat.

“Let go of me.” She writhes as if she wants to get up, but when I lock my arms around her, excitement blooms in her scent.

My good girl likes being restrained.

I’ve never been with a human who likes rough play. Bedding humans is allowed—as long as we don’t let slip who we are. But humans don’t usually interest me. Too weak, delicate.

Not this little she devil. If she doesn’t stop fighting me, I will pin her face down on the floor and take her hard from behind, make her scream for a different reason. A far better reason.

But I have the feeling fucking her wouldn’t get her out of my system. Whoever this female is, she means something more to my wolf.

“Do you know what I do for a living?” she grinds out, still squirming. “I’m an attorney, and I will sue your sorry—”

“You’re not going to sue me,” I drawl.

“I will notify the police and file a restraining order and—”

~.~

Amber

“Shh,” my neighbor—my werewolf neighbor—soothes. He runs his hand over my bare thigh. I go still. Part of me wants to rip his eyes out, but the other part of me holds its breath, trembling under his caress, waiting to see what he’ll do next.

“You’re not going to call the cops, and you’re not going to file a lawsuit.” He is annoyingly certain.

My bottom stings and tingles from the smacks he delivered but my pussy is molten. What the hell is wrong with me?

“You don’t want to get into a battle of wills with me, because you won’t win.”

“Is that a threat?”

He chuckles, his hand slipping around the curve of my knee and sliding up my inner thigh. “No. It’s a fact.”

His arm hooks around my waist, pulling me close as I straddle his knee. His big hard thigh presses against my pussy. I rock down on it and let out a puff of air then immediately stiffen.

“You are so…” His eyes rove over me, lingering at the line of my cleavage. Damn this bra. “Cute.”

I will sue you, buddy. Sexual harassment. Infringement of tenant rights. A litany of law marches through my head, but his next words scramble every thought in my brain.

“And naughty.” He kneads my ass, still bare due to the wicked wedgie he gave me. A wonderful wedgie that also stimulates my clit. I rock my pelvis over his thigh, grinding down to stimulate the little nubbin.

Garrett barks out a curse, and his hands tighten on my ass. His eyes look more silver than blue. He flips me around to face away from him, as if I weigh nothing. My knees drape over his thighs, spread wide.

“You need relief, baby?” His voice is thick and growly. His fingers zero in on the exact place I need them, rubbing my clit over the satin of my panties. Garrett’s other hand cups my breast, kneading and squeezing. My nipples pucker under my bra, breasts ache and pulse in time with my clit, which he circles with the pad of a finger. “I need you to answer me.”

“Y-yes.” Panting, I reach down and yank the gusset of my panties aside for him.

Garrett groans. “Oh yeah, baby. That’s it. Offer that sweet little pussy to me.”

His digits are huge. They glide over my slit, which is embarrassingly wet. I tip my pelvis down to meet his touch, urge him on. He works his middle finger inside me.

It’s been forever since I’ve had sex, and I’m sure it shows because I’m almost orgasming the second his digit pumps inside me. I don’t recognize the sounds coming from my throat.

Garrett adds a second finger, stretching me.

I throw my head back on his shoulder, crying out with pleasure.

He thrusts them in and out, uses the heel of his hand against my clit until I’m nearly weeping with desire. When he abruptly pulls them out, my pussy clutches on emptiness. He delivers a sharp slap, right between my legs. “Naughty girl,” he growls in my ear.

My hips jack up.

He spanks my pussy again. A third time. Then, like he knows I’m about to blow, he shoves two fingers inside me and fucks me hard and rough, not holding back, delivering the intensity and speed I need to crest the peak.

I shriek and throw my head back on his shoulder, digging my nails into his forearms as I ride his digits, my hips bucking, pussy clenching, toes curling. My orgasm goes on and on while Garrett holds his fingers wedged inside me and I come all over them.

God help me. I’ve never lost control like that. Never allowed anyone to give me so much pleasure or to see me out of my mind.

He eases them out as I coast down the other side, my body going limp against his. His lips find my shoulder and he smooths my panties back in place. “That’s it, naughty girl,” he murmurs in my ear, then rearranges me to face him once more.

He brushes a strand of hair back from my face. “My naughty little human.” He emphasizes the last word, looking me in the eye, and it all comes rushing back. He’s a werewolf, and he knows I know.

I tense. What’s he going to do?

But werewolves don’t exist. I must have been off my rocker. “I’m not crazy,” I blurt.

His stern look softens a fraction. “I never said you were.”

“Are you…you’re not—”

He arches a brow. “Not what?”

“Werewolves don’t exist,” I repeat my assertion from earlier, but my gaze falls to his tattooed knuckles. The phases of the moon.

Oh God. He’s definitely a werewolf.

I try to bolt again, but he holds me easily, his arm like a steel band around my waist.

“Wh—” I clear my throat. “What are you going to do with me?”

“I don’t know. First I need you to answer some questions for me.” He sounds serious now.

“Like what?”

He shifts me to the side. Taking my hands, he turns them over, examining my arms. “Are you hurt at all, baby?”

Biting back tears, I shake my head. There he goes, taking care of me again.

“Good.” He lifts me from his knee and sits me on the coffee table in front of him, holding both my hands in one of his big paws. The intensity of his gaze makes me blush again. At last, he asks, “How did you know?”

I try to jerk my hands free, but he holds me fast, adding his other hand almost like he’s comforting me, rather than holding me captive. I pull harder.

“Hey,” he says. “Settle down. I’m not going to hurt you, but I do need you to answer me.”

“There is no answer,” I rasp. I don’t talk about my visions, ever. Last time I did, I was thirteen, and it cost me my foster home. I learned quickly that people don’t like having their secrets spilled for them. I don’t know how I let my knowing slip this time.

Garrett just waits, holding me without effort, saying nothing.

I slump. He’s not going to let me go until I tell him. “Sometimes I just know things,” I mumble. “I see them, like fast-forward pictures.”

“What do you mean?”

I stare at a hole in his jeans, wishing I had just stayed at Foxfire’s place. Sent a moving company to get my stuff, found a way to avoid Garrett for the rest of my life.

But I didn’t. Because, deep down, I wanted to see him. Needed to know if the vision was true.

“Amber?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I really don’t. Sometimes I see stuff I wish I hadn’t. Like dead people or the future—usually something bad, like accidents or deaths.” I remember asking my foster mom why the two buildings in New York caught fire and fell—two months before the 9/11 attacks. That family returned me in a hurry after it came true. “I don’t do it on purpose. I hate it, actually.”

“You’re psychic.”

I jerk my hand out of his and swipe at my face. My hair’s fallen out of my updo. I probably look a mess. Crazy Amber, the psychic. All I need is to carry a deck of Tarot cards, wear flowy skirts, and cover my apartment with crystals. Oh, and burn incense. Then I can hang up a shingle and tell fortunes.

Garrett’s watching me, stone cold serious. I swallow hard. I know he’s a werewolf. Probably something he doesn’t want getting out.

My fear from earlier returns: I might die tonight. But no, if he wanted me to die, he would’ve let me fall off the balcony. Unless he needed to question me first.

“Did you tell your friend?”

Right. This is what he needed to know. “Foxfire? No. She passed out on the way home.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

“No.” My voice cracks. “No way. I’m not going to tell anyone. I don’t need people thinking I’m crazy.” Knowing I’m crazy.

“Are you just saying what I want to hear?”

“Do I seem like the sort of woman to blow smoke up your butt?”

He grins, a devastating smile that makes my insides quiver. “You did say you’re an attorney.” But he releases my hands, dropping his huge palms onto my knees. I stare at the tattooed knuckles, the large fingers caressing me. I never knew legs could be so erotic. I’m still dizzy from my last orgasm, but I wouldn’t be opposed to round two.

“Would you give me your word?”

I nod once then several more times. Is that really all he wants? A promise I won’t talk?

He squeezes my knees. “Thank you. Listen, I don’t want to threaten you…but wolves don’t like humans to know about us.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly ask to know.”

He crooks that smile at me again, making my limbs turn liquid. “I know that, Amber. I just want you to understand that you and I are going to have big problems if you talk.”

“You’ll spank me again?” Damn, I was supposed to sound annoyed, not breathy and fluttery. As if I want to be bare-assed over his lap again. Oh wait. I totally do.

“Did you like your spanking, Amber?” His voice rumbles, deep and seductive.

“No.” I want to stand up, but he’s leaning forward, rough palms on my thighs, and I would have to push him away. Touching him would be dangerous.

“I think you did.” Sexy wrinkles appear in the corner of his eyes. He’s laughing at me.

“If I told someone you were a werewolf, what would you do to me?” I ask, mostly to kill the mood.

His blue eyes turn to ice chips. His hands squeeze my knees, and I wonder that I ever thought his touch sexy. My body freezes, as I stare down a predator.

“You don’t want to know,” he rumbles, totally serious. The threat in his eye effectively kills the sexy mood.

“All right, then.” I find my voice somehow. “I don’t need to know. I won’t tell anyone, on the pain of death.” I try to say that last part like it’s a little joke but fumble it. My stomach feels like a bottomless pit.

His big body relaxes. After a moment, so does mine.

“Good girl,” he says.

A sigh escapes me, so big it rattles my bones.

“Come here,” he murmurs, and gathers me in his arms. I stay stiff, stunned, before melting against him.

“I’m sorry if I scared you tonight.” His voice reverberates in his big chest. His hand soothes up and down my back. It feels so damn good.

“Oh, I wasn’t scared. I normally climb down from my balcony at two in the morning.”

His chuckle warms me. “I really like you, Amber.” He stands and sets me on my feet, as if he hasn’t turned my world upside down. “I hope we have an understanding?”

“Yeah. My lips are sealed.”

“Good girl.”

Fuck. Those words.

I raise my chin. “I’m reserving the right to sue you for assault and battery.”

He grins again. A toothy, wolfish grin that makes my pussy clench. He reaches down and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I would apologize,” he purrs. “Except I’m not sorry at all. I enjoyed seeing that gorgeous little ass of yours. And those panties—” He makes a satisfied, growly sound. Yep, another clench. “Come on, baby. It’s late, and you should get some rest.” He leads me out, a palm on my back. I thought he might just close his door behind me, but he escorts me to my apartment like a gentleman. We stand in front of the door a second before I remember.

“Crap. It’s locked.”

“I’ll get it. I’m good with locks.”

He disappears back into his apartment and re-emerges with a wrench and another small tool.

“You’re going to pick my lock?”

“It’s a good skill to have, not that I use it much. I’m more of a huff and puff and blow your door down kinda guy.”

A half-hysterical laugh bubbles out of my throat. “You don’t keep a master key to all the apartments? Wouldn’t that be easier?”

“This is more fun. Wanna learn how? I’ll teach you. It’s actually pretty easy. Come on,” he says when I hesitate. “Unless the princess is too good to get her hands dirty.”

“No,” I scoff.

“This is what happens when you hang with a bad boy.” He winks, and gives me the wrench.

He talks me through breaking and entering while slouching against the wall. “Okay, so the tension wrench goes into the bottom of the key hole. No—” His large hand swallows mine, and I jerk.

“Easy,” he murmurs in my ear, and suddenly there’s no air to breathe. He shifts the wrench, showing me how to apply tension in the direction my key would normally turn. “Now, you insert the pick at the top. Yes, that’s it. Move the pick back and forth in the keyhole to lift each pin. Whoops—you released the wrench. You have to keep applying pressure there, because that’s what will actually open the lock. Try again.”

Let the record reflect: Picking a lock is easy. Or, it would be, if I weren’t pressed up against a giant hottie. Electricity runs through my body, tiny shocks pulsing between my legs. My head swims with Garrett’s deep voice and patient instruction. He’s so gentle, yet he carried me like a war prize just a few minutes before. Carried me in and spanked me. Oh God. Every time I think of it, my belly gets fluttery, and my pussy clenches. And even when he threatened me, I felt safe.

My shaking fingers slip. “I can’t do it.”

“Sure you can. Try again. It’s easy once you have the hang of it. Slow and steady, Counselor,” he murmurs as I jiggle the pick back and forth.

One by one, I release the pins, and the wrench turns. “I did it!”

He grins as he opens the door for me. I try to give the tools back to him, but he waves them away. “Keep them. They might come in handy.”

“You’re my landlord. Should you be encouraging all this breaking and entering?”

“I trust you to be good.” He puts a finger under my chin and lifts my face to his. His handsome face fills my vision. “Until I make you bad.”

I can’t breathe. Is he going to kiss me?

He drops his finger. “Remember what we talked about.”

“Or else?” His closeness emboldens me. I’m giddy. Or maybe I’ve just lost my mind.

“Or else.” His eyes are flint, striking sparks. “You’ll be punished.”

I lick my lips. “What do I get if I’m good?”

A pause then he crowds me against the door. Two giant hands come to cup my face, tilting it up before his lips slam down on mine.

It’s a great kiss. A bad boy kiss. A naughty girl kiss. He pins me against the door, mouth dominating mine. His knee presses between my splayed legs, his hard thigh angling against my pussy. Sparks fly in my mind, my body reigniting like fireworks on the Fourth of July. I grind down, helpless against the rising tide.

Let the record reflect: Werewolves kiss good.

At the last moment, he breaks away.

“Damn,” I breathe.

“That’s right, baby.” He angles his hips, and his erection brushes against me. “Be good, and you just might get another reward.”

~.~

Garrett

I sit sipping beer on my couch, staring at the moon as I try to get my wolf under control. Bad, bad girl, running from a wolf. And the way she responded to the spanking… damn if my dick isn’t all awake and ready to go.

I hear boots in the hall before my apartment door bangs open.

“Not so loud,” I call, and wince. I sound like my dad.

Why the hell did I think it was a good idea to live with packmates? It was fun just out of college, but I’m twenty-nine, and a business owner. I own half the real estate downtown. Maybe it’s time to buy a house, find a mate. Grow the fuck up. But that would make me into my dad.

Damn, my wolf is riled up if I’m thinking about mating.

Trey and Jared stride inside only to stop short.

“What the—” Trey starts, his eyes turning silver.

“It’s cool,” I tell them. They smell Amber.

“What’s with you and the human? Tank said you took off after her,” Jared says.

I scoff. That makes me sound desperate. “Tank was wrong. I went for a ride then came back here. You know, the place where I live.”

Jared’s eyes aren’t silver, but he raises his head, sniffing like a wolf at Amber’s lingering vanilla scent. “But she was here.”

“She and I had a little talk.” I take a pull on my beer, keep my tone casual. “She knows.”

Jared and Trey go still.

“How?” Trey asks. His shoulders bunch like he’s about to change. Jared sits down on a chair facing me. A string of tension runs through him, too, like a predator on high alert.

And they’re right to prepare to defend. Amber knowing is a liability to the pack.

“Back off.” I can’t quite keep the growl out of my voice. “She’s one of us.”

“What?” Jared cocks his head.

“You told her?” Trey asks as if he didn’t hear me, worrying his lip piercing with his tongue. He’s the thinker of the pack. I should have forced him to go to college because he’s the guy who researches the fuck out of anything and everything that interests him. He’s a great advisor and strategist. “Humans can’t know about us, G. The rule—”

“Shut up, Trey,” Jared cuts him off. It’s inappropriate for either of them to question any decision I make.

I plunk my beer down. “No, I didn’t tell her. And I’m aware of pack rules. That particular one hasn’t been enforced for seventy years.”

“Yeah, because your dad would rip a shifter’s guts out if they ever told a human,” Jared mumbles. His eyes are silver, too.

“I’m not my father.” The guys freeze at my growl, so I force myself to relax. “That might be how my dad runs things, but I don’t think it’s necessary. Like I said, she’s one of us.”

“Shifter?” Jared asks, though he must already know by her scent she’s not.

I shake my head. “Psychic. I didn’t tell her. She guessed. Or knew.” I stand and cross my arms over my chest. “But, we talked, and she’s not going to say a word.”

Trey gnaws his lip.

Jared watches me. “You gonna tell Tank?”

My fingers curl into fists. Is Tank their fucking leader now? “No need. She’s not gonna breathe a word.”

“Whenever you talk about her, your wolf is in your eyes,” Jared observes. “We’ve been taking bets on how long before you claim her.”

They’ve been taking bets. Which probably means the whole pack knows I have a thing for a human. Assholes.

“I want to protect her,” I admit. And fuck her senseless. “She’s a good person, and she doesn’t mean to have these visions.” And my wolf wants her safe. At first I was going to deny the truth, but for some reason didn’t want to lie to her.

I’m not crazy, she said, and it was all over. I couldn’t let her go on thinking that. I couldn’t hurt her. I’m an alpha. I protect the weak. Whoever Amber Drake is, she’s one of mine.

“She’s one of us,” I repeat. “She swore not to tell, and I believe her. And my wolf trusts her, so…” I shrug, watching their body language carefully. Most of my pack is loyal, but I’m bending the rules. One hint of them being a threat to Amber, and I’ll do what I must to make sure she’s safe.

“Whatever you say, boss.” Trey drops into a seat next to Jared.

I grunt my approval, but, secretly, I’m glad they’re taking this so well.

“Yeah,” Jared also lounges back, relaxed and smiling. “It’s about time you took a mate.”

My eyes almost bug out. “What?”

“We followed you to Tucson because your dad’s pack was too rigid. No room for a wolf to run. But all this bachelorhood is wearing on us. I’m ready to chase down a little she-wolf, give her a claiming bite. I think a lot of guys are, but we’ve been waiting for you.”

“Bullshit.” These guys are party boys. The idea of any of us settling down anytime soon is ludicrous.

Jared just grins. I’m pretty sure he’s goading me to find out how serious I am about Amber.

“I’m not mating,” I say firmly. “You both know I can’t mate a human, even if she is a psychic.” But my wolf disagrees. Lots of wolves mate humans; it must be possible. I’d just have to be careful not to give her a mating bite, or it could kill her. But mating a human would mean I’d lose my position as alpha. It would be seen as a sign of weakness. Our pups would have weak blood.

“Well, I’m ready to settle down.” Trey yawns.

“You just want your dick sucked on the regular,” Jared mutters.

“Yeah, so? Who doesn’t?” Trey grabs the cushion he’s sitting on and throws it at his pack brother.

“Guys,” I warn them absently. My head spins with the idea of mating Amber. It’s ridiculous, but now that it’s on the table, my wolf won’t stop salivating over the thought of having the prim little attorney as my own. I want to pull that bun down, tie her to my bed, and spread her legs. Spend so long eating her pussy she screams herself hoarse. Every night. For the rest of my life.

Not going to happen, buddy.

“Don’t worry,” Jared says. “We’ll find another place to live after you bring the human to heel.” He and Trey swap grins, and I want to punch both of them. They’re having too much fun with this.

“In the meantime, we’ll get earplugs or something,” Trey adds.

“I already need earplugs.” Jared throws a cushion at Trey. “You keep me up, howling while you jack off.”

“I do not howl.” Trey throws the cushion back and dives onto his pack mate, punching him through the cushion.

“Guys,” I warn, and they stop. “Do me a favor. Sit tight on this. Amber’s under my protection, but that doesn’t mean she’s my fucking mate.”

“But she may become your fuck-mate.” Jared grins like he knows I’m trying to figure out how to make it happen. “We’ll let you warm her up to us first. When it’s time, we’ll make Trey wear a bag over his head.”

The punching starts again. I grab my beer bottle before it goes flying, and watch them push at each other, hoping the crashing doesn’t wake Amber up.

I know Trey and Jared are solid, but I don’t want them telling Tank, who will run to my dad. If my dad decides Amber is a threat, he won’t hesitate to give a death order. For him, rules are rules. Life is black and white. I can just hear him lecturing me and Sedona, That’s how we survive.

But no one is putting Amber down. I would fucking kill anyone who came near her. A growl rumbles in my chest at the thought.

But that doesn’t mean I can have her, either.