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  “Chloe,” he groaned, fighting a losing battle, his lust warring with his determination to do things properly. Taking her on the ground, cradled by fall leaves, wasn’t the right thing. She deserved the softness of a mattress, resting against clean sheets and fluffy pillows.

  “Hmm?” She cupped his cock, pushing her hand against his length.

  Fuck it.

  Wrapping his fingers in her hair, he held her in place as his tongue penetrated her mouth, his cock hard and eager. He was only capable of holding back for so long. Chloe obliterated his control. She was so hot she burned him alive.

  Besides, he had never been good at doing the right thing.

  To hell with it.

  Chloe was pretty sure Jackson wasn’t interested in sex. He’d kept distance between them on the car ride to his cabin, making small talk. Then when they arrived he’d put more space between them. She’d tried to follow his lead. She’d even helped him make his damn bed. After what she’d experienced—after he’d faced her family, for Christ’s sake—she couldn’t maintain the ruse any longer. The part of her that had breathed new life wanted more.

  She wanted more.

  Slow made sense but she didn’t want to make sense. After she’d spoken to Rachel something had clicked. She wanted to be carefree, aching to see Jackson as she had the night before. When he was in his element, confident and cocky, self-assured and somewhat arrogant.

  “You make me want to do bad things,” Jackson growled, sounding like the man she wanted to hear, with the edge in his voice she’d missed. “Very, very bad things, Chloe girl.”

  She shivered, squirming as a rush of wetness soaked her panties. When he talked to her like that she wanted to drop to her knees and give him whatever he wanted. For a moment she imagined that—on her knees, sucking his cock, out in the open. Before she’d have been mortified for considering it. Now? It made her tingle in all the right places.

  Her skin felt as though it was on fire, calmed only by Jackson’s touch. She wanted to feel his hands all over her, the rough pads of his fingers working their magic. He seemed to know exactly what she needed, provoking responses in her she never thought existed. Even now, with a heated kiss, she was ready for whatever he wanted to give her.

  “How bad?” she whispered, goading him. “Tell me.”

  “Fuck that.” The words came out as a desperate snarl. He yanked her by the hair, forcing her away, gazing into her face. “I’ll show you.”

  Oh God.

  She brought a hand to his ass, shocked to feel his pocket vibrating. Before she could consider the cause Jackson lowered her to the ground. Even though he was obviously aroused he was gentle with her, bracing her back with his arm. Her thick coat cushioned her shoulders as he lowered himself over her, the hard ridge of his cock nestled at the vee of her thighs, his hips forcing her to spread her legs. Her nipples puckered, straining against her bra. A steady pulsing settled over her clit, making her remember how he’d put his tongue to use when he’d gone down on her.

  Going on instinct, she rolled her hips, creating a delicious friction. Their tongues danced, darted away and returned, touching as they kissed. Each breath she took was strained, her lungs feeling as though they were shutting down. All she needed was a little bit more and she’d fall over the edge. Her newfound sexuality didn’t want to be contained. She’d been hovering on the brink all morning, eager for a repeat of their shared evening together, walking on pins and needles.

  “Rock against me.” He brought his hands to her waist, guiding her movements, dragging her cleft along his denim-clad shaft. “Rub that hot pussy of yours against my cock. Take what you need.”

  Shamelessly, she did, grinding her mound against him. Heat rolled over her, beads of sweat forming on her brow despite the cool weather. She clawed at his leather coat, burying her nails in the material, wishing it was his skin instead. Smells penetrated the air—Jackson, the earth, the alluring fragrance of pine. Burying her face in his neck, she reached for what she wanted, rubbing her pussy against him. Fiery sensation swarmed her, building and intensifying.

  So close…

  One hard thrust and she cried out, shaking as she came, her eyes clamped shut. She gyrated against him, keeping the glorious electric currents flowing as long as possible, trembling as the world rotated on its axis. Strangely the orgasm wasn’t enough. She felt empty inside, her vaginal walls flexing. She needed Jackson above her, surrounding her with his body, filling her with his cock.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll get there,” he rasped, as though he’d read her mind.

  He unzipped her jacket and cupped her breasts, thumbing her nipples. Her head fell back, small twigs and leaves snagging in her hair, sharp edges poking at her scalp. Somehow the unexpected and harsh sensations made the moment more real, more animal. Apparently foreplay would have to wait.

  She wanted Jackson. Now.

  His button fly didn’t give her any trouble, parting like a breeze when she tugged at the fastener. He lifted up, giving her access, aiding her in her task. She knew it wouldn’t take much to reveal his straining erection. He hadn’t bothered with underwear. A couple well-timed yanks and his cock would be free. Once he removed her jeans nothing would stand in their way. She’d urge him to take her hard and fast, needing to feel him plunging into her over and over again.

  Realization poured over her and her fingers stilled.

  “Condom,” she blurted, startled when his silken flesh slapped into her hand, reminding her of how stupid she’d almost been again. She’d forgotten that all-important element of sex before. She couldn’t risk doing so a second time.

  Jackson looked at her, confusion in his eyes. “What?”

  “We need to use condoms. I’m not on the Pill.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that.” He pinched her nipples, causing her to gasp, passion and sexual hunger attempting to overcome reason. “Trust me.”

  She’d trust him with just about anything…but not that. The ramifications were too severe. The cost too high.

  “I do,” she disagreed, denying her traitorous body, feeling his cock prodding her thigh. She steeled herself not to respond when he circled his fingers around the pointed peaks covered by her clothing.

  “It’s not your time to conceive. I’d know.”

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  “Of course I do.” He rose above her, his irises like bottled whiskey tempered by fire. “I am part wolf, baby.”

  No arguing that.

  He was equal parts animal and man—a perfect and sinful combination.

  Unexpectedly his pocket buzzed again, teasing her fingers through the thin layer of denim. She frowned, manipulating her hand and making out the shape of a phone. She was about to ask who was calling when everything changed—throwing her off balance, confusing the hell out of her. She didn’t have a chance to brace herself. Jackson suddenly disappeared, leaving her gazing at the open sky feeling cold and bereft.

  Who knew he could move so fast?

  She hadn’t even seen him pull away.

  Flipping onto her stomach, she tried to look in his direction. Where had he gone and why? A loud snarl pierced the air, horrifying in a way. When she finally saw Jackson her breath caught, sexual heat swiftly turning to alarm.

  He was crouched a few feet in front of her, his hands steady on the ground, resting his weight on his toes. She couldn’t see his face but the tense line of his shoulders told her something was off. He was focused on something in the distance she couldn’t see.

  “Jackson?” she asked cautiously, unnerved by his behavior and the awareness that bloomed inside her. He was putting himself between her and what he perceived as a threat.

  “Don’t move,” he commanded, his voice deeper than usual, and she felt his power slam into her to reinforce his will. “Stay there, Chloe. That’s an order.”

  There was no time to question him. He leapt from his crouch, moving so quickly that he vanished into the line of trees in a b
link. She held her breath, heart pounding in her chest, palms stinging from the pine needles that had dug into her skin. Seconds ticked by. She wanted to stand but couldn’t. Despite willing her limbs to move, she stayed exactly as he’d left her. Something inside her obeyed Jackson’s command, taking it as gospel.

  What the hell?

  A loud snarl came from the trees, then another. She heard Jackson, growling something she couldn’t make out. Silenced followed.

  She waited, her stomach uneasy.

  What had he found out there?

  Werewolves weren’t supposed to be frightened of anything. Judging by Jackson’s behavior he’d been more than concerned about what he’d sensed—he’d been pissed. She hadn’t thought anything could rattle the man. Knowing something had the power to put him on alert like that, taking him from a demanding lover to a hard-edged wolf, made her nervous.

  Loud snapping sounds—branches breaking under force—interrupted the soft melody of nature. She watched, unable to do anything else, eyes lingering on the space between two trees. More snaps followed and she realized the noises were footsteps. Then she heard Jackson’s deep baritone. He was speaking softly, a warning, evident by his tone. When he appeared he was holding another man—a completely nude one, at that—by the back of the neck.

  “You’re one stupid son of a bitch.”

  “I can’t tell my Alpha no,” the man responded, walking as though he wasn’t embarrassed by his lack of clothing. “I only came to confirm the rumor. I didn’t mean you any harm.”

  “The hell you didn’t,” Jackson snarled, giving the man a firm shake. “You came to spy on me—on my fucking mate—with shitty intentions.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Andy, shut the fuck up before you piss me off. I’m trying real hard not to kill you. I’ve got enough shit to deal with without your blood on my hands.”

  Although his state of undress didn’t bother Andy, his first glimpse at Chloe did. His green eyes widened, becoming saucers as he stared at her. It was as though he comprehended something he hadn’t before, putting two and two together. She wasn’t sure what he was seeing or why he looked so spooked. He lowered his gaze, swallowing so hard she saw his Adam’s apple bob.

  “It’s okay, baby,” Jackson said, tearing her mind from the man. “Go ahead and get up. You’re safe.”

  Just like that, whatever spell had kept her in place was broken. She considered giving Jackson a piece of her mind. Who the hell was he to bring her to heel? She was a person, damn it. Not a pet.

  After she rose to her feet, however, she thought better of it. Blood tricked from slices in Andy’s skin, created by Jackson’s claws. She studied the vicious-looking things, shocked by how long and sharp they were. When she’d gotten a glimpse of his fangs when they’d had sex, she’d been turned on.

  This made her feel something else entirely.

  A stampede coming from behind her got her attention, forcing her to rip her eyes from the claws at Andy’s throat. She turned in time to see the man from the parlor—Declan—running like the devil was on his ass. He slowed when he saw them, his face a mask of agitation. He continued crossing the distance, fury radiating from him, his eyes a bright shade of gold.

  “I see I didn’t make it in time.” He lifted his hand, revealing a phone. “Next time, answer your fucking cell.”

  “Tell me what you know,” Jackson instructed without an apology, within a few feet of her now, forcing Andy to walk slightly in front of him.

  “Gavin found out I was asking questions.”

  “How?” Jackson knew Gavin would notice Declan sniffing around, but he hadn’t counted on the Alpha doing so that quickly.

  “Some of his business acquaintances overheard me at the diner. When I visited Gavin’s bar, I managed to eavesdrop on a conversation before I was told to leave. Gavin spread the word that something was going down. He sent your friend there,” he pointed at Andy, “to see what was what. I tried to call and warn you but you didn’t have the courtesy to answer your goddamn phone.”

  “So he doesn’t know?”

  Declan’s gaze darted over to her. “Not yet.”

  There was a hidden meaning in that look.

  “Know what?” she asked, determined to know what he was hiding, ready to take control of her life and everything involving it.

  Jackson’s expression changed. Despite the distance between them she felt the shift in his mood. Her stomach churned, bile rising to her throat. She didn’t know if what he intended was bad or good.

  He looked at Declan and said, “Go inside and call the pack. Tell them to meet us at the shop in an hour. It’s time to strategize.”

  “You got it.” Declan went from annoyed to almost eager. He rushed away, running from them almost as fast as he’d approached.

  Jackson crossed the remaining feet, keeping Andy away from her. He reached out with his free hand and wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing her against his side. Lowering his head, he breathed into her ear, his soft exhale caressing the shell.

  “How much do you want to know?” When she tried to speak, he interrupted, “Think about the question before you answer. Make sure you’re ready to go there.”

  It was like jumping without a safety net. He’d answer her questions even if she didn’t want to hear certain things. She’d be going in blind but would surface wiser for it. Whatever was happening was important. If the pack was coming, she didn’t want to be a weak link. She wanted to be an equal. She’d been honest when she said worrying about what was to come wouldn’t help her. It would only delay the inevitable.

  Turning her head so her lips brushed his jaw, she replied softly, a sharp edge of anticipation spiking through her, “Everything. I want to know everything.”

  Chapter Eight

  Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.

  So damn true.

  Chloe listened as the pack spoke, trying to pretend she was comfortable in their presence, soaking in what she’d learned. Jackson knew her father. Apparently he’d known who her father was from the moment they’d met, since she looked exactly like the asshole. The truth clarified a lot of things, but it didn’t totally alleviate her tension.

  Not when Jackson hadn’t had all the answers to her subsequent questions.

  Although he was certain Gavin Worthington had gotten her mother pregnant, he didn’t know the circumstances involved. It was bizarre. She’d never given her father any consideration really, aside from loathing him for what he’d done to her mother. Fantasies of meeting the bastard had never come to mind. She wasn’t a child who needed a parent. Her grandparents had seen to that.

  Now though, armed with the truth, she had to admit she was slightly curious. She wanted to know where she came from.

  A woman who’d arrived with an imposing male stared at her. Chloe hurried to remember the female’s name, recalling Jackson had introduced her as Heather. She wasn’t sure if he’d been honest about the size of his pack. From what she could see, he wasn’t short on numbers. There were seventeen in all. Twelve were mated couples. The remaining five were single males.

  After a quick introduction she’d settled into the chair Jackson had provided for her. The couples had been welcoming, greeting her with warm smiles. The men had given her polite nods and curious stares but otherwise they hadn’t seemed impressed. Even so, things had gone well. They might not like her, but they didn’t hate her. There were no fights or arguments, only questions Jackson was quick to answer.

  So far, so good.

  “Chloe?” Jackson’s voice intruded on her thoughts. “What do you think?”

  Lifting her head to stare at him, she blinked several times. She hadn’t been listening. Therefore she didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t want everyone to think she was slow on the uptake. One small misstep and she’d look like an ass.

  Shit.

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” It was a horrible response to any question but she hoped her input sufficed.<
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  Jackson cocked a brow, a small grin tugging at his lips. “I’m not sure,” he said, informing her that he’d known she hadn’t been paying attention. “Your grandfather wants to put a bullet in Gavin’s ass. If the two of them come face-to-face, I have a feeling things will get nasty.”

  She felt the blood drain from her face.

  Apparently when she’d been lost in her thoughts, the group had decided it was best to involve the man who’d raised her.

  If Gramps met the man who’d destroyed his only child, he would want revenge. Jackson had briefly indicated such a meeting might be necessary to cement their mating to the packs in the area but she was hoping to avoid it. Surely her biological parent couldn’t try to influence her life now.

  “That’s an understatement and you know it. Gramps will kill him.”

  “All the more reason to do it,” Declan interjected, flexing his arms as he leaned forward in his chair, making his tattoos stretch. “The old man was your protector. He sheltered you, fed you and cared for you. He has the final say in your mating. Gavin can’t do shit about that. He’s fucked.”

  “I don’t want him in danger.” Gramps was wily but he was old. He was in no condition to take on anyone—much less a werewolf. Not that it mattered. She’d already decided she’d give Gavin a piece of her mind if he ever tried to dictate what would happen in her future.

  “He won’t be.” The conviction in Jackson’s retort eased some of her tension. “As the man who raised you he’s entitled to confront anyone he believes has endangered you.”

  “I hardly classify any of this as endangerment.”

  Abandonment? Sure. Endangerment? That was a stretch.

  Jackson’s eyes shifted color, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “If you hadn’t found me,” he growled, “you’d be singing a very different tune, Chloe girl.”