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Authors: Aline Hunter

BOOK: Marked
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“They did, but only under the agreement that if anything
went wrong I’d consent to being home-schooled. One slip and my entire life
would change. As you can probably imagine, if I had a bad day I knew not to
tell them about it.”

“You were just a kid.” He looked and sounded pissed off.
“Who did you talk to? Where did you go when you needed advice?”

“Rachel,” she answered simply. “She stayed at our house most
of the time. After we met I always had someone to talk to.”

“What about her family?”

Uneasiness made Chloe backpedal. Talking about her life was
one thing. Rachel’s toxic family history was off-limits. “What about them?”

“If you spent that much time with their daughter, weren’t
they weren’t close to your grandparents?”

Oh crud
. Talk about awkward.

After Rachel’s father had died her mother had gone on a
bender that turned into a lifestyle. Mrs. Gentry wasn’t close to anyone,
including her daughter. She preferred to frequent Jasper’s Lounge, taking
advantage of happy hour, free drinks and nameless one-night stands.

“Not really,” she responded carefully. “Rachel’s dad passed
away when we were in elementary school. Her mom worked a lot.”

Jackson wasn’t going to drop the subject. He closed
refrigerator and reclined against counter. “What kind of work?”

Think, think, think.

Rachel would kill her if she told Jackson the truth.

“This and that.” She turned her head, looking toward the
living room, gazing at the window.

Cindy Gentry was a horrible woman who used everyone in her
life—including her child—to get ahead. Once the social security checks started
rolling in for Rachel after her father’s loss, Cindy had taken it as a sign she
didn’t need to work unless she wanted to. The wretched woman stayed out most
nights, drinking away her daughter’s money. Her best friend—heartbroken over
her father and devastated by the actions of her mother—had been raising herself
since the tender age of nine.

“Chloe?”

Steeling herself, she returned her attention to Jackson.
“Yeah?”

For a split-second she worried he was going to push the
issue.

“Never mind,” he said softly. “Let’s get you some food.” He
pushed away from the counter and opened the fridge. “I thought we’d drive over
to speak with your grandfather this morning. I know he’ll be relieved to see
you, and it’s probably best to talk to him face-to-face.”

“So you can convince him to tag along tonight?”

“Convincing won’t be necessary.”

He obviously didn’t know her grandfather as well as he
thought. “Oh really? Do you think you can waltz in, tell him what you want and
he’ll be happy to help?”

“He’ll do whatever it takes to protect you. Besides,”
Jackson glanced at her over the door, “I’m pretty sure he knows what’s coming.
Before you joined us in the office I asked Fletcher what he’d do if he ever saw
your father again.”

Gramps would kill the asshole. “I’m guessing it wasn’t
good.”

“It works for me.” Jackson shrugged, the muscles in his arms
bunching as they flexed. “If he wants to take another shot at Gavin, I’m all
for it.”

Seconds passed as she waited for him to indicate he was
joking. He didn’t crack a smile, gazing in her direction, his attention riveted
to her face.

“You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he tossed her words back at her with a
playful grin.

“What if he’s hurt? He can’t stand up to a group of
werewolves!”

“Chloe.” Jackson’s good humor receded. “Your grandfather has
every right to address the male who impregnated his daughter and left her and
his unborn child. It doesn’t matter that he’s human. He’s entitled to justice.
What Gavin did violates everything wolves value and protect. Our children are
the key to our future. When his pack discovers what he did he’ll be lucky if
he’s still Alpha.” Obviously trying to calm her, he added, “If it makes you
feel better, I’ll make sure to unload Fletcher’s weapon before we go.”

“That’s a small amount of comfort.” Knowing Gramps, he’d
carry ammo in his pockets.

“Then how’s this? He’ll have the backing of the pack. No one
will interfere. They know better.”

“Just like the females won’t interfere when you announce our
mating?” She waited for an answer as she met his eyes, staring at him across
the distance. The tic in his jaw and brightening of his irises were the only
indication he was angry.

“That’s different.”

“I don’t see how.” Danger equaled danger.

“They won’t challenge you because I’m going to tell them
what to expect if they win.” His voice deepened but otherwise he appeared
completely calm. “Mating me will be the worst mistake any of them will ever
make. I’ll make their existence a living hell.”

“Isn’t that cheating?”

“I’ve found my female.” His gaze swept over her. The grin
that appeared on his face created butterflies in her tummy. “I’ll have no
other.”

The man was part Neanderthal. Good thing she didn’t want him
any other way. “You have a solution for everything, don’t you?”

“It’s part of the job.” Dipping his head, he glanced inside
the refrigerator. “Damn it,” he snapped, closing the door and standing to open
the freezer. “I knew I should have kept groceries at the cabin. This is fucking
pitiful.”

Sliding from her stool, she walked toward him. Knowing he
was so focused on her—that he wanted to feed and care for her—was a stark
reminder that he’d been through hell the past couple of days. After she’d woken
and went into the bathroom, she’d studied the mark on her shoulder—
his mark
.
Not everything was about her and her family, big decisions concerned him too.
If Jackson was willing to stand at her grandfather’s side when he faced Gavin,
she’d trust him to take care of the aging yet indomitable man.

Speaking of age…

She wrapped her arms around his waist and rose to her
tiptoes, resting her head on his shoulder. She took a look into the freezer.
There wasn’t much in the way of actual food, just a couple of Hungry-Man
dinners.

“How old are you anyway?”

“I suppose I can tell you. It’s too late to trade me in for
a newer model.” He shifted a few of the dinners around. “I turned one hundred
and fourteen last month.”

One hundred and fourteen?
“Bullshit.”

“Nope.” He kept sorting, looking for a pot of gold at the
end of a crappy rainbow. “You’re mated to an old man.”

“How about the pizza?” she offered, pointing at the enormous
box. “I’ve heard it’s the breakfast of champions.”

“Breakfast of champions, my ass,” Jackson grumbled and
pulled out the frozen food. “I should be shot for feeding you shit like this.”

“Don’t worry. You can make it up to me later,” she
whispered, tilting her head to skim her lips over his neck, squeezing the arms
locked around his midsection.

“Hmm.” He placed his free hand over her interlocked fingers
and shuffled to the stove. He let her go only long enough to remove the pizza
from the box, turn on the oven and place it inside. After he set the alarm near
the dials he disentangled her arms, spun her around and gazed down.

Oh boy.

That look was in his eyes—the one that warned her he wanted
to tear off her clothes and do all sorts of naughty things to her body.

“You’re damn right I’ll make it up to you.” One harsh yank
forced her against his body. He wrapped an arm around her waist, cupped her ass
and lifted her from the ground. “Starting now.”

“Bring it on, old man.”

He crossed to the counter, his movements as smooth as silk.
She shivered when her ass made contact with the chilly surface, aware of how
thin her panties were against the ceramic. Jackson parted her thighs with his
hips, his fingers drifting around her waist. She raised her pelvis and he
tugged at the scrap of lace guarding her sex, drawing the material down her
legs. He dropped her panties, sank to his knees and pulled her forward. Her
buttocks balanced on the edge of the counter, his mouth hovering inches from
her mound.

Slowly he peered up, the heat in his stare so palpable it
burned. “I’m not coming up until that alarm goes off. First I’ll pleasure you,
then I’ll feed you. Afterward we’ll take things upstairs and finish what I
started. I’ll show you just how young this old man can be.”

She gasped for air, dragging a greedy breath into her lungs.
Then his face descended, his tongue slipped over her hot, slick flesh and she
was lost in the most fantastically wicked of ways.

Who needed food?

This was heaven.

* * * * *

Jackson ran a finger along the surface of the water,
engrossed in the woman who reclined in the tub, closed her eyes and sighed
blissfully with a sated smile on her face. Despite his promise to take Chloe
into the bedroom after breakfast, he’d decided to introduce her to his shower
instead. He’d taken her against the wall, thrusting into her hard and fast,
driven by her soft cries and whimpers. If she’d had any complaints she didn’t
voice them, clawing at his back as she came, urging him to achieve his own
release.

Afterward he’d drawn a bath, wanting her to relax and
unwind.

Now he simply studied her. Enjoying the shared moment.

Her lids cracked open, revealing a flash of her green
irises. When she saw him staring she grinned. “What are you thinking about?”

“You,” he answered truthfully and brought his fingers to her
knee.

She laughed, the sound alluring and husky. “Is this where
you give me a cheesy line about how I must be tired because I’ve been running
through your head all day?”

“Afraid not,” he murmured, stroking her skin.

“Good.” She flicked her hand, sending beads of water over
his chest. “I don’t like Velveeta.”

He considered returning her playful splash with one of his
own.

Clever little female.
“Just one more thing we have in
common.”

“Why bother with dairy products when you can have the whole
cow?” Her hand drifted over his, her wet skin soft and slippery from the hot
water. “I’m assuming those are what you hunt if deer are scarce?”

The slight catch in her voice took him from relaxed to
concerned. “I wanted to talk to you about that.” Now was the perfect time to
clear the air. “Normally when wolves announce a mating the packs hunt in
celebration. In this circumstance, I think it’s best if we do things
differently.”

Large emerald orbs focused on him. “Define differently.”

“After we address the packs, we’re leaving.”

“Why?” He could see the confusion and fear in her gaze. “Are
you worried something will go wrong?”

“No. I’m not worried about that.” Taking his hand from her
knee, he slid closer to the tub. Extending his hand, he cupped her chin. “I
want to enjoy the first moon with you and no one else. The night is a beautiful
time and I want to show it to you. The pack can keep up pretenses after we
leave. Besides, if we’re not alone we can’t play. And I can’t tell you how much
I want to play with you, baby.”

Her brows softened, relief evident in her expressive face.
“What kind of game?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.” His remark was greeted with a
scowl. He laughed, stroking his thumb along her jaw. “You’ll like it. I give
you my word.”

It didn’t take much to close the distance. His mouth brushed
hers, sliding from side to side. She released a soft sigh, her lips parting in
welcome. He slid his tongue into the crevice, tasting her sweetness. His body
responded despite their earlier interlude. It was clear he couldn’t get enough
of this woman. He felt the jerk of his quickly swelling cock, the erratic
beating of his heart. He wanted to groan when she pulled away.

“You’d better get dressed. Otherwise I’ll be tempted to take
this to the bedroom.” Her voice was just as deep and raspy as his. He felt her
tremble at his touch. “As much as I’d like to keep you naked all day, I don’t
think Gramps would approve of you visiting his home in your birthday suit.”

“Do you really care what he thinks?” A stupid taunt but he
couldn’t help himself. Seeing Chloe relaxed and comfortable in her own skin was
something he wanted more of.

“Do you think I’d have asked you to cover that amazing body
of yours if I didn’t?” she countered with a smile.

“Maybe you just don’t want other women to see me naked.”

This time when she met his gaze she was deadly serious.
“Only as much as you want other men to see me in the buff.”

Damn.
When he thought it was safe to push, she pushed
right back.

He hadn’t counted on how furious the notion made him.
Werewolves didn’t blink at nudity. It was second nature to be comfortable in
either skin. But the thought of other males staring at his mate and seeing what
she kept hidden beneath her clothes pissed him off.

Good thing we’re enjoying the first moon alone.

“Point taken,” he grumbled, releasing her chin and rising to
his feet. “I’ll have to make sure you keep extra clothes handy. I’d hate to
kill someone for doing something as innocent as enjoying a breathtaking view.”

Placing her hands on the sides of the tub, she reclined
against the back and relaxed. “Just remember it goes both ways. Turnabout is
fair play.”

With a shake of his head he turned from the enticing vision
resting in the water and went to put on some clothes. She didn’t have to worry
about him remembering things went both ways. How could he possibly forget? The
message she’d been sending was loud and crystal clear. If he displayed the
goods, she’d do the same.

He recognized a threat when he heard one.

I’m so fucked.

When the pack learned Chloe’d had him by the balls, Jackson
knew he’d never live it down. The first time he ducked behind a tree or bush to
shift forms would be the end of it. Word would spread and his image would take
a nosedive. Jackson Donovan—pack Alpha, successful tattoo artist and
businessman, whipped into shape by a small armful of female who made the rules
and enforced them with an iron fist.

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