Anna couldn’t help being nervous about what she and Bjornolf were going to do next. She thought he was the right one for her, but was she the right one for him? He didn’t know what he was getting into when he took her on. She was always trying to prove herself with the guys. Maybe because she’d tried so hard to prove her worth to her parents, and they never had seemed to think her worthy of their attention. Ever.
He closed the door to the bedroom and watched her as she took a seat on the end of the bed.
“We’re not going to just sleep, are we?” she asked.
He shook his head, but he didn’t take a step closer, as if letting her get her bearings first. “We’re going to do it, Anna,” he said matter-of-factly. “Tonight, tomorrow, sometime soon. Sooner, I hope, than later. But we’re going to do it.”
“Because?” she asked.
He moved across the floor like a stealthy wolf, and her heartbeat quickened. She didn’t feel the fight-or-flight feeling she had the last time he was with her in a room like this. She wondered how she was going to prove to him that her moves were just as hot and sexy as his.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked.
“Yeah. I am.” Bjornolf pulled Anna from the bed. “We’ll make one helluva killer team.”
A killer team. She smiled. That decided it.
Bjornolf saw the sudden change in her mood. She was shifting from being unsure of where this was going… to—“Damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!”
Once it was decided, there was no going back. He’d planned to talk with her first, but screw that. They’d talk to each other for the rest of their very long mated lives. Now was the time for action.
Neither of them were willing to go slowly. As she tried to pull off his gray sweatshirt, he was sliding his hands under the soft sweater she wore, wanting to feel her breasts confined in that sexy, black, lacy push-up bra. Then he wanted to free them. She was hampering his progress as she pulled the sweatshirt up his chest, exposing him, but he wasn’t letting go of her sumptuous breasts.
She growled at him—actually growled! Then she leaned over and licked his nipple and pulled on it with a tender nibble. He should have known she’d try to take charge of the situation. He released her breasts, yanked the sweatshirt over his head, and tossed it to the floor.
He had planned to pull off her sweater next, but she slipped her leg behind his. Before he realized what she was up to, she grabbed his shoulders and pushed. The oldest trick in the book and he’d fallen for it—literally. He fell flat on his back with an oof, landing on top of his field pack full of clothes, which softened the drop.
She didn’t miss a moment to straddle his hips, yanking off her ponytail holder, then her sweater, and tossing them both aside. The gleam in her wickedly happy expression said she loved being on top. Not just for sexual play, but that she needed this because of their last encounter where he’d gotten the best of her.
He slid his hands over her thighs, knowing he could easily flip her onto her back and straddle her, but he wanted this to be her show. Unless she needed more sparring to make her feel like a worthy opponent. Whatever Anna wanted, Bjornolf had every intention of giving it to her.
He smiled at her, letting her know he was ready to play some more.
She leaned down and licked his other nipple, her lace-covered breasts rubbing his chest, as she moved her jeans-clad mons over his hard-as-steel erection. To think they’d delayed consummating their relationship for this long… What a waste of precious time. They’d have to make up for it.
Her hands slid up his chest, her silky hair draped over his skin as she tugged on his nipple with a gentle pull of her teeth. She had the most amazing mouth, and everything she did whetted his appetite for more.
He reached behind her back to unfasten her bra. He wanted her breasts rubbing against him, skin to skin, her mons brushing against his arousal, her scent mixing with his, claiming him, ensuring other wolves knew they belonged together.
Too much fabric still separated them, but he couldn’t find the fastener on the back of her bra. He took hold of her shoulders and pushed her back so he could examine the garment, her breasts nearly falling out as she leaned over. He groaned at the mouthwatering sight of them. He reached for the fastener in front, but she pulled away from him and grabbed the buckle of his belt.
That’s when he flipped her on her back. No Mister Nice Wolf any longer. He wouldn’t last.
She grinned at him, then scrambled to get away. He grabbed her leg, diving for her, pinning her to the floor, his chest to her back. Not exactly what he had in mind. He’d wanted her breasts topside so he could unfasten the bra.
This way could work also, he decided. He slid his hands between the carpet and her breasts, unfastening the bra as she arched her butt up. Now that was an interesting maneuver. It didn’t get her anywhere, but it definitely got him hot.
Now that he was on top, he rubbed his arousal against her cleft, wishing they had already dispensed with their clothes.
He could feel the tension in her body, feel her need to outmaneuver him again. She seemed to be warring with herself to let him have his way with her or spar with him as he caressed her luscious breasts, one in each hand, squeezing the hot, swollen flesh and feeling her nipples harden.
She moaned in pure delight, her buttocks rubbing against his arousal until he was so pumped that he feared he’d come in his jeans. Definitely not the way he wanted to start their mated relationship.
He slid his hands down her belly and felt for the button at the waist of her jeans, unfastened it, and unzipped the zipper. He was concentrating on that when she tried to flip him over, but only managed to nearly knock him off, turning so she was face up. Perfect. He re-situated himself firmly below her hips.
She was flushed, her breathing wild, her heart pumping fast, her breasts bared for his pleasure, as he yanked the jeans down her hips. With a quick thrust, she lifted her hips, pushing with her feet against the floor, and tried to unseat him again.
“Won’t work, Anna,” he cautioned, seeing the smile spring to her face again. She was having fun. He raised up to pull her pants lower. He jerked his own belt free and unbuttoned his jeans, then pulled down the zipper. She licked her lips, her dark eyes fastened on his zipper.
“On the bed or here?” he asked, his voice hushed.
“Here,” she said, patting the floor. “In case the bed squeaks.”
“Right.” He’d forgotten about Nathan.
Bjornolf pulled off her jeans and tossed them aside. He stood to remove his jeans, while he took in her sweet, sexy body, naked except for the lacy bikini panties. He’d dropped the pants to his ankles and was about to step out of them and kick them aside when he saw her expression change.
In an instant, he knew she was going to attack. She jumped up from the floor, and before he could react, she slammed her hot, soft body into his, tackling him to the bed with a thump, the jeans still around his ankles like a noose.
Her hands went straight to his package, caressing his cock through the boxers as she hummed in delight.
He groaned as he kicked off his jeans and wrapped his legs around hers, capturing her. He combed his fingers through her hair, his erection throbbing with need against her pelvis, rubbing him with wicked purpose. She felt so good.
She moved against his body, her breasts pressing against his chest, her mouth meeting his, their kisses greedy, hot, passionate. He couldn’t get enough of her. Tongues connected, tasting the peach brandy they’d shared. Sweet.
He slid his hands down her panties, cupping her soft cheeks, squeezing. She let out a little sigh of delight that pleased him. Then she slipped his cock out of his boxers and touched the broad head, eagerly stroking him. God, that felt good. “You’re wet,” she whispered.
He dipped his fingers between her legs and plunged one in between her folds. “You are, too.”
“Not just wet,” she whispered, as she rubbed her body against his.
He felt the ripples of climax inside her then, realized that with Anna a little sparring was good for foreplay, and vowed they’d have a room just for that—to keep in great shape and combat-ready—wherever they ended up living.
“I’m ready,” she gasped, breathless, her eyes dark with arousal. “If you are.”
He opened his legs to release her, and she pulled off his boxers. He quickly dispensed with her panties and dragged her under him. He entered her gently at first but quickly picked up the pace. Her heady scent mixed with his, the two of them smelling of the outdoors, of snow and firs and pine, of peach brandy and of her sweet peach-scented shampoo. Their hot, delicious sexy and overactive pheromones had him driving into her over and over again until he muffled her cry with a penetrating kiss. He exploded inside her, having never felt this complete.
He rolled off her and saw the expression on her face. She was one sleepy, well-satisfied she-wolf with a tired smile on her face. He tugged aside the covers. Then he moved her to their side of the bed and curled up beside her, spooning her, pulling the covers over them. He hoped they could solve the murder mystery quickly and painlessly so he and Anna could make some plans for their honeymoon.
Bjornolf’s cell phone rang the next morning, and he realized the last time he had used it was before he and Anna went after Nathan the night before last.
Before he could throw on some boxers and retrieve the phone from down the hall, he heard Nathan say, “Hi, Hunter. No, it’s me, Nathan. They were making a ruckus in the bedroom for most of the night. It’s quiet in there now, so I think they’re still sleeping. I’ll tell him as soon as he gets up.”
Bjornolf groaned and looked down at Anna. She was smiling up at him.
“I don’t think Hunter had this in mind when he hired us for this job,” Anna whispered, touching Bjornolf’s chest.
A fresh shiver of need rocketed straight to his groin.
Bjornolf leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I’m not too sure about that. I’ll go see what Hunter wants. It’s time to put up the outdoor Christmas lights anyway. You just rest.” After the wild night they’d had, they both needed a daytime nap.
She nodded and closed her eyes.
He took a quick, cold shower, then grabbed a pair of fresh boxers, noting that Anna was tucked under the covers and sound asleep. She looked beautiful, her hair tousled and spread out across the white pillowcases, her face angelic in sleep. His undercover operative. His sexy she-wolf.
He finished dressing and headed for the kitchen to get a cup of hot coffee.
Nathan had laid strings of lights all over the couches, getting them ready to put up outside. Bjornolf smiled at him, glad the kid was ready to help. He noticed Nathan had already had eggnog for breakfast, the filmy glass sitting in the kitchen sink. Bjornolf eyed it for a second.
“I didn’t drink any rum in it. Honest,” Nathan said. “You would have smelled it. That’s the problem with living with wolf chaperones.”
“You’re right.” Bjornolf noticed the coffee percolating, but Nathan hadn’t had any. “You having some?”
Nathan shook his head.
“Thanks for fixing it.” Bjornolf poured himself a mug, then said, “Who called? Hunter?”
Nathan’s face turned a light shade of red. “Uh, yeah. You… heard?”
“Yep. Another disadvantage of having wolf chaperones.”
Nathan nodded. “Or teen wolves who can hear all the noise being made down the hall.”
Bjornolf fought a grin. “We were sparring.”
Nathan’s face fell, then the smile returned. “Yeah, right.” When Bjornolf didn’t confirm Nathan’s suspicions one way or another, he asked pointedly, “You’re mated, right?”
Normally, Bjornolf wouldn’t have said. But this wasn’t a normal situation.
“Yeah, we’re hitched, wolf-style.” Meaning mated, no marriage necessary. It was a done deal for life.
Nathan nodded, trying to look serious, but he couldn’t hide a full-fledged grin.
That worried Bjornolf a bit. He hadn’t considered living with Nathan beyond this mission.
“Okay,” Bjornolf said, not willing to ponder the situation further. “Let me talk to Hunter, and then let’s get those lights up. Open house is tomorrow, and we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”
Bjornolf walked outside into the crisp, cold winter day. He had the phone to his ear as he carried several strands of lights draped over his arm. Nathan had already brought out several more and a ladder, plus plastic hooks to hang the lights to the gutters.
Bjornolf was impressed.
“Is this the right way?” Nathan asked. “I’ve never hung lights up on a house before.”
“That’s it.” Bjornolf heard Hunter’s voice and said, “Bjornolf here. You called?”
“Yeah, you first.”
Bjornolf was watching Nathan as he hung the lights meticulously, making sure the hooks were evenly spaced. The kid was doing a good job, and Bjornolf couldn’t help but be proud of him. His father must have been just as pleased with him.
“I don’t know anything new on the case,” Bjornolf told Hunter.
Nathan looked down at him, all ears.
“That’s not what I meant,” Hunter said.
Bjornolf frowned. “Anna?” he guessed.
“Yeah. Well, what of it?” Hunter sounded growly and protective of his teammate.
Nathan looked like he might be in trouble for having said anything about hearing Anna and Bjornolf last night. Bjornolf raised his brows at Nathan and smiled, reassuring him that he was fine with what Nathan had said to Hunter.
“Sparring practice,” Bjornolf told Hunter.
Nathan grinned and continued hanging more lights.
“Sparring practice,” Hunter said. He didn’t say anything more for a moment.
Bjornolf stepped forward to hand Nathan a new strand of lights. “Yeah.”
“Who won this time?” Hunter finally asked.
“Depends on who’s telling the story.”
Hunter laughed. “I can believe that. How’s Nathan doing?”
“Nathan’s great. He made us coffee. Didn’t drink rum in his eggnog, and he’s hanging Christmas lights on the house. Couldn’t ask for a better kid.”
Nathan’s ears tinged red, but he smiled, and Bjornolf was glad that Nathan heard him praise him. Especially after what had occurred yesterday over the running-to-Portland situation.
“What about the two of you? Can you handle it?”
“He might have to stay at your house at night if he wants to get some sleep,” Bjornolf said.
Nathan quickly shook his head, frowning.
“Forget it. He says no. We’ll get him some earplugs.”
Hunter laughed. Then he got serious again. “Finn discovered that both of the dead men had been working with the DEA. I’m wondering if these agents were investigating someone at the tree farm. What if they learned that the guy was dealing, but before they could report it, the agents were murdered?”
“Or,” Bjornolf said, not liking a different scenario, “what if they couldn’t report it?”
“Meaning the drug dealers were wolves?”
“Yeah. Only they didn’t know you had a pack here and could have helped them out.”
“Sounds like a possibility. It’s not like there’s a map of where lupus garou settlements exist in the States and beyond.”
“What about the Wentworths? Any lead on them?”
“They’ve returned home. Rourke’s headed to their one-and-a-half-million-dollar estate located next to Forest Park in Portland to do an interview on their harrowing adventure. We’re hoping he might learn something.”
“Wentworth?” Nathan asked, climbing down the ladder to move it again.
Bjornolf looked up at him as he climbed back up the ladder. “You know a Wentworth?”
“Everton, the guy who owns the tree farm, has a half brother named William Wentworth.”
“He wouldn’t happen to be ‘the Third,’ would he?” Bjornolf asked.
“Uh, yeah. Everton says it in a sarcastic way as if the dude thinks he’s really cool cuz he’s the Third. I don’t think he likes his half brother at all. Not that I’m really surprised. When Everton was off delivering some trees to customers a couple of days ago, William dropped by to see Jessica’s mom, Dottie. He acted really friendly. Gave her a big hug and kissed her.
“They didn’t realize I was in the back of the shop hanging some fresh Christmas wreaths. When he saw me, he quickly moved away from her and gave me a look that could kill. I just figured the guy was being nice to her because they were related—by marriage. But after the look he gave me, I wondered if something more was going on.”
Bjornolf relayed the message to Hunter.
“We’ll check into it,” Hunter said. “Anything else?”
“Yeah, one other thing struck me as odd. When Anna and I were out investigating the tree farm the night before last, a man named Everton caught us and asked for our ID. I just thought it strange that anyone would be on guard duty watching over a tree farm late at night.”
“Everton?” Nathan asked, pausing to hook up the next section of lights.
Bjornolf was getting a bad feeling about this as he studied Nathan’s frown.
Nathan said, “He never guards the place. At night, he’s always watching sports on TV in the basement. I know because I’ve sneaked in to see Jessica and her dad never knew it.”