ROMANCE: Mason (Bad Boy Alpha Male Stepbrother Romance Boxset) (New Adult Contemporary Stepbrother Romance Collection) (47 page)

“You saved me,” she whispered, more to herself that to her thoroughly confused husband.

“And you saved me,” he confirmed.

“You don’t think that was it, do you? Like some kind of life-saving truce,” she muttered.

Ethan burst out laughing, startling Amelia. “Life-saving truce?” he chuckled, a wide grin on his face.

The laugher came freely, both equally as relaxed in the others company, something they had never felt before. “If I had known that, then I would have orchestrated your almost murder years ago,” she laughed loudly.

“Wait,” Ethan murmured, his voice suddenly serious, the humor completely drained from it, “does that mean…” he thought aloud.

Ethan took a step forwards, his foot parting Amelia’s legs slightly. Heat coursed through her as his thigh pressed firmly against hers. He leant in, his lips brushing hers temptingly gently, she tried to meet his lips, put an end to the teasingly soft pressure but his leg stopped her firmly in her tracks. She looked up at him curiously, her dark brown eyes boring into his sparkling blue ones, a hint of gold remained and she smiled.

His lips circled hers, forcing them apart yet they remained soft, too soft for the burning desire that was building inside of her. She felt the heat, the passion and the lust but nothing else. The hatred and fear of being close to him was gone, she no longer wished to run. “I want you,” she murmured against his soft lips.

She felt his body stiffen. “And I want you,” he whispered, the shock of his words registering. A part of him had always wanted her close, but this wasn’t just a part anymore, all of him wanted her near. His wolf was there but he was sated, he no longer feared the person who had saved his life. As she pressed herself against his legs he knew she felt the same.

Ethan lifted his wife into his arms, feeling her body press against him like it was the first time. He cupped his chin, lifting her lips to his; capturing them quickly and firmly, feeling the soft tingles of pleasure as she moaned contently against him. Her legs wrapped around him, forcing him closer so that her scent was overwhelming. He breathed in her scent like it was a lifeline, so sweet and uniquely her, no longer tainted.

Hands cupped her waist, holding her firm as she explored the mouth of the man she had thought she had known so well. Each taste, each sensation was new, surging straight through her body, no sign of relenting. Her fingers raked through his messy blonde hair, feeling the softness like she could never get enough. Heat burnt her thighs, hardness pressed into her and she knew she needed him now more than ever.

Ethan pulled away, breathless and smiling he brushed a stray strand of hair from his wife’s eyes. “So, do you fancy a game of tennis now?” he questioned innocently.

Amelia’s mouth dropped open in shock as she followed her husband’s eye line to the battered tennis set, but hers went a little further, to the small bedroom that held perhaps the only piece of furniture that didn’t look set to collapse. “Perhaps later,” she whispered, “we have four years to make up for.”

“My dear wife, I couldn’t help but to agree,” Ethan grinned, a wide smile creasing his face. The excitement in his eyes dulled and the bright blue darkened beyond what Amelia had ever seen it do before. She was used to blue, on the rarest of occasions even gold but this was different. She wanted him like she never had before, she wanted all of him and as she met his gaze; she knew after so long that he wanted the same.

His arms snaked back around his wife’s waist and he lifted her firmly against his chest, crashing her slender body into him. A small gasp parted her lips as she felt his already growing hardness against where she wanted it the most. His lips sought hers, claiming them instantly, channeling his desire and lust into her overly sensitive lips until she moaned loudly against him. Shivers raced through her body, hard and relentless in their assault, just a taste of the pleasure she had desired most.

Carrying her to the small room that held the rickety four poster bed, he never dared let his lips part from hers; overwhelmed with the pleasure it brought to his body now that the hatred that had once claimed him was gone. The void that it had left had quickly been filled; lust took its place without a second thought. She bit down on his lip, deepening the kiss in a way she had once never been able to, he did not flinch at the bite but groaned deeply at the contact, pushing harder against her until she could barely breathe.

Heat coursed through his veins and he dropped the small frame of his wife onto the bed, collapsing down on top of her; not wanting to be away for longer than he needed to be. She pulled away, staring into the bright blue eyes of her husband, breathless and dazed. He wanted this moment to last forever but as desire pooled through his body he knew that he could not hold back. Lust ravaged his frame, so much so that he could barely keep a hold of his need.

Catching her husband off guard, Amelia flipped him over on the bed, straddling his massive frame. His hips thrust out towards her and she fought to suppress the cry of pleasure that brushed her lips. Her fingers trailed up his chest and over his defined muscles, a stark difference to her own pale skin he was darkly tanned. She could feel her need building with the rapid beat of his heart, finally free to feel every ounce of the desire she had forebode herself for so long. There was no consequence now, no fear of the other; there was only requited desire, a promise of pleasure without bounds.

“Four years,” Amelia breathed, they had a lot of catching up to do.

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BONUS

THE WEREWOLF KIDNAPPER

BY SICILY DUVAL

Dalton watched the pickup truck lumber away.  It disappeared quickly around the bend of trees, its chipped blue paint gone from sight, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust hovering over the dirt road, and the dying sound of its engine fading into the night.  Dalton’s stomach clenched and unclenched. 

Two more gone.  What does that leave me?  Six?  No…five counting me. 

He turned away from the sight of the last of the dust cloud settling and climbed the steps of his home slowly, purposefully, although he felt no real purpose.  Dalton Brown was an alpha with a problem.  Half of his pack has abandoned him.  He hadn’t found a mate, and the other pack members who were mated hadn’t produced any sign of offspring with alpha werewolf blood.  They thought the pack wouldn’t have a legacy.  They thought the pack would eventually die, like some weak animal species sucked into the Darwinian theory of survival of the fittest.  They didn’t blame Dalton per say, but even his physical attributes gave them pause when considering his abilities.  He wasn’t a tall man, only 5’10” and he wasn’t barrel chested and broad shouldered.  Rather, he was slim and tight with muscles and wavy brown hair.  His eyes were a muted green that tended to look like seawater when he was sad.  No, Dalton Brown didn’t look like an alpha, but an alpha he was; one with a huge problem.

He pulled a chair out from his kitchen table and sat down, immediately placing his head in his hands.  When a knock sounded at his door he didn’t bother to check on who it was, he simply yelled out a defeated, ‘Come in’ to whomever it was.  At that moment he cared less. 

Winnie and Chuck walked in together, the last couple of his pack.  Winnie eyed him with the kind of critical gaze that females had perfected since Eve handed Adam the apple.  Dalton glanced up at her with his eyes only, leaving his pounding head where it was.  She tossed her wild tawny hair once and leaned towards him, supporting her weight against the table with her hands.

“Tell me, fearless leader, what are you planning on doing now?”

“Winnie…”  Chuck warned weakly.  All it earned him was a sharper critical gaze than she was already giving Dalton. 

If an outsider were to see Chuck stand next to Dalton, they would assume he was the alpha.  He was tall and broad shouldered with the barrel chest.  He worked for a nearby lumber company and had the muscle to prove it.  He also was fascinatingly handsome with red hair and blue eyes, but he was not a leader.  His wife Winnie was happy to point that out by example alone to anyone willing to pay attention. 

Dalton sat back and looked at her with a bland expression.  “What can I say, Winnie?  I’m such a charmer that my pack is running from me.”  He stood and opened a cabinet, yanking a bottle of whiskey down onto the counter.  He pulled a glass out too, and looked at Chuck with one eyebrow raised.  Chuck nodded slightly, before cutting his eyes to Winne to see if she noticed. 

“No, your charm isn’t the issue, it’s your loins!” 

Dalton handed Chuck a glass filled a quarter of the way with the dark amber liquid, before gulping his own glass until it was empty.  He winced and made a face as it burned its way down his throat and into his empty stomach. 

“My loins?  I haven’t used my loins for over two years!”  He made a face and struck a prissy pose.  When he spoke, his voice came out high pitched, an obvious imitation of a woman.  “Don’t sleep around!  Save your seed!  You might be wasting the one alpha sperm you have!”  Dalton turned back to the whiskey and started refilling his glass.  Chuck stopped him after only a shot was poured in. 

“Easy, buddy.”

Winnie folded her arms and rolled her head along her neck like a chicken.  “Oh that was hilarious, Dalton!  Who else can you imitate?”

“I don’t know.  Give me a minute to think of someone.” 

She huffed and stormed the short distance to the door.  Chuck hurriedly finished his drink.  He slapped Dalton on the back. 

“Don’t worry.  She’ll cool off.”

“Chuck!”  Winnie’s angry voice boomed from the darkness outside.  Chuck flinched and followed her grimly out the door.

Dalton drained his glass and considered pouring more, but put the bottle away instead.  He needed a clear head.  He paced the length of his home, turning to enter the laundry room at the other end of the kitchen and walked through the living room into the hallway, passing the bathroom and three bedroom doors, before turning and heading back the way he had come.  His house was actually a double wide set on a permanent foundation.  After he had purchased the land, he was running short on funds and couldn’t afford to build a house from the ground up; pre fab was the only option. 

When he had made the decision, it had seemed like a good one.  He picked the most rural area of Spotsylvania County in Virginia.  There were packs spread out through the entire state, some larger than others, put Spotsylvania seemed void of a real pack.  He had started with Winnie and Chuck, both natural born werewolves.  They had been impressed with Dalton’s ability to shift in two forms, he could be a classic werewolf, or he could shift into a real wolf.  It was a rare gift, and paired with alpha blood, they (meaning Winnie) had thought he would be the strongest leader in the state.  Wrong.  So wrong. 

Dalton stopped his pacing and stared at the phone hanging on the kitchen wall.  His fingers twitched at his sides. 

I could just call.  I could just ask.

Dalton grabbed the receiver and dialed a number from memory.  His old mentor might still be miffed at him, they hadn’t parted ways very well four years before, but it was the most logical place to begin. 

Dalton listened to the phone ringing and imagined Thomas checking the caller ID, and rolling his eyes.  Maybe he was laughing; who knew?  Dalton was about to hang up, when someone picked up on the other end, answering gruffly. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, Thomas, it’s Dalton.”  Silence was his response.  He swallowed and pressed forward.  “I was wondering if you had a minute.”

“Maybe.”

“I…uh…I need a little help.”

Thomas barked a short laugh.  “Really?  Now, isn’t that something?  I thought you knew what you were doing…at least that’s what you screamed at me before you left, taking two of my best pack members with your scrawny ass!  Winnie was the best horse trainer I had!”

Dalton swallowed again and closed his eyes.  Allowing Thomas to rant was the best idea.  Just let him get it out of the way.  He could see his tall broad frame clearly, and imagined he had red splotches on his fair skin by then.  His near white blonde hair was probably bristling.

“Look, I didn’t make them come with me.  They just did.”

Thomas snorted.  “Right.  Look, what do you want?  Just get to it.”

“A female.  I need to mate.  My pack is dispersing at an alarming rate.”

“You haven’t mated yet?”  The laughter was genuine.  “You really are a late bloomer.  You know you could have stayed here until you found a mate.  Williamsburg isn’t a small place.”

“I know.  I admit it…I was rash and stupid.”

Thomas was silent, considering if Dalton was being honest or not.  “Yeah, you were.  I can’t help you, though.  I don’t have any available of age females.  There must be a shortage.  An alpha was here a year or so ago scouting for a mate.” 

“Did he find one?”

“Ha! No.  He found a human instead.”

Dalton made a face.  “A human?”

“Yeah.  You might want to try and contact him.  He has a pack somewhere past Winchester near the West Virginia line…or so I’ve heard.”

Or so you’ve snooped.   “Sure, I’ll do that.”

“Dalton?”  The hint of amusement was unmistakable.  “You could always come back here.  I need a good stall mucker.” 

Dalton could feel the heat rising past the collar of his t-shirt.  “I’ll let you know if it comes to that.” 

Thomas was waiting to hear if Dalton would bite the bait, but all he heard was defeat.  No one wants to be defeated. 

“Look, I’ll call you if I hear of anything.”

Dalton let air out of his lungs in a slow exhale.  “Thanks.  I appreciate it.” 

After he had hung up he tried another alpha, the nearest one to him, in Fredericksburg.  The man had the audacity to laugh and then told to do something anatomically impossible with himself.  Dalton was so flustered by the rudeness that the only retort he could muster was, ‘Your Momma!’  He only heard raucous laughter and then the dial tone.  He hated speaker phones, he really did.

The next morning Dalton awoke with pain in his head like a jack hammer.  He hadn’t been able to leave the whiskey alone after the last phone call.  The jackhammer turned out to be someone beating on his front door.

“Yeah!  Yeah, I’m coming!  Stop that damn knocking!”  He pushed the door open forcefully and stared angrily into the face Brian O’Toole, the one pack mate that actually lived with him. 

Brian stared up at him sheepishly.  His boyish good looks made him a winner with the opposite sex.  He had full lips that were constantly on the verge of a grin, like he knew a secret but was trying to hide it.  His wild black hair was currently out of their usual corn rowed state, and he had it pushed back from his face with some kind of headband.

Dalton leaned a shoulder against the door frame.  “What happened to your hair?”

His lips no longer skirted a grin, he let it come to full life.  His tan skin pulled back and wrinkled just slightly around his liquid black eyes.  “Mika was going to redo it for me, but…”  The grin expanded further.  “We became a little busy and didn’t get around to it.” 

Dalton grunted.  “Keep your escapades to yourself.  Why are you banging on the door?”

Brian’s grin disappeared.  “I lost my key again.”

Dalton shook his head and moved out the doorway and into the kitchen.  “Mika is going to find six thousand copies of my house keys in her couch and bed one day.”

Brian climbed the steps and shut the door behind himself.  “Nah, but maybe two or three.”

Dalton ran a glass of water and drank it in two or three gulps.  Brian watched him thoughtfully, his head resting on one propped up hand.

“Rough night?” 

Dalton stared out of the kitchen window.  “Rick and Misty left.”

“Oh man.” 

“Yeah, and Winnie and Chuck paid a visit.” 

Brian winced. 

Dalton turned from the sink and joined him at the table.  “I called Thomas.”

Brian’s eyes widened.  “Why?”

Dalton shrugged and scratched his bare chest.  “I need a mate.  I was hoping he had an available female I could meet.” 

“Mika might have a friend.”

Dalton gave him an impatient look.  “Mika’s a human.  If you want to waste your time on a human, fine, but not me.  I need to produce strong offspring.” 

Brian frowned.  “A lot of werewolves who have mated with humans have produced shifters.” 

Dalton waved him off.  “I can’t risk it.  You’re not alpha, it’s different for you.”

Brian made a fist and cleared his throat.  “I’m glad you said that.” 

“Why?  You want to bring Mika here?”

Brian nodded. 

Dalton sighed.  “Might as well.  The pack is dying anyway.” 

“Thanks!  Don’t worry about the pack…they’ll come back once you find someone.” 

“How soon for Mika?” 

“Soon, I think.”  He grinned and stood, stretching his lanky body.  “I’ve fallen in love.” 

Dalton watched Brian walk down the hall and enter his room. 

Well good for you.

Dalton had another glass of water before trying another pack.  That one was in Culpeper.  No one laughed out right that time, but there was a keen wariness to the faceless voice.

“I heard the pack controlling Madison and Syria might have a few females.  One in particular…a little blonde I think.  Her name is Tish…maybe Trish…I don’t know.  She works at that big lodge in Syria…now what’s it called…”

Dalton pinched the space between his eyes.  He wanted to ask the man if he drank much.  “I thought Madison and Syria was controlled by a fairly large pack.  I heard the guy’s married to a human.” 

“Oh…oh yeah…I know who you mean.  He only controls his actual compound and a little of the Shenandoah Valley, but his place is near West Virginia, not the area I’m talking about.  He’s not a power lord like some of the others.” 

“Does he have anyone?”

The man did laugh then.  “Just his little daughter.”

“Never mind.  Thanks.”

“Sure.  Go to the lodge, and check her out.  Maybe a few others work there too.”

The call ended, and Dalton made the whip decision to just go look.  What could go wrong? 

Brian stared at Dalton uneasily.  “I don’t know about handling the business while you’re gone.” 

Dalton shut his trunk.  His little Ford Focus would have to do for the trip.  He needed to leave the truck with Brian.  “There’s nothing to it.  I might be back by Monday anyway.  The only job we have for this week is old man Taylor’s house on Rt. 613.  It’s a weeklong job.  All the supplies are in the shed.  Take Chuck and start the job if I’m not back by Monday.”