Brotherhood Protectors_Montana Moon Read online

  “A penny for your thoughts.”

  He jerked his head up and focused on Lauren’s face. She was taking another bite of her omelet. She chewed and swallowed, motions he found far too fascinating and the movement of her throat made his dick throb. He needed to get away from her. He stayed where he was and said, “I’m thinking you need to tell me why you were running away.”

  She blanched, reaching for a glass she’d filled with ice water. Lauren took a big, long drink and Tait decided that his dick might just break before it was all said and done. “There’s nothing to say.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Lauren flung her hands up, the gesture both overly dramatic and petulant. “What can I tell you?”

  “How about the truth?”

  Her eyes narrowed while the corners of her mouth pulled down. “The truth? That’s a two-way street, cowboy. Tell me your truth first.”

  “You can’t handle the truth.”

  Now her eyes went wide, and a snarl curled her upper lip while her hands flailed around her head. The damn woman shouldn’t be so cute when she was angry. Tait folded his arms across his chest, waiting for her rebuttal.

  She sputtered a few times, began to speak then stopped as words failed her. She tried again. “You’re giving me bad movie lines now? Seriously?” Lauren stomped over, stopping directly in front of him. Her fingers curled into his T-shirt of their own accord, like they knew what to do even if she didn’t. “You think I’m some sort of lightweight? Ha! The stuff I know would curl your hair.” She blinked a few times as she considered his close-cropped thatch. “Well, it would if your hair was long enough.” Her voice caught on the last word and she looked away.

  He tipped her chin up with a finger. “What is it, Lauren?”

  Lauren thumped his chest, careful to land her fist closer to the shoulder opposite his injury. “You could have died, Shooter. Because of me.” The words tumbled out, breathless and coated with worry and fear.

  He tasted both on the tip of his tongue and inhaled the odors with each breath. Onions and ammonia. Not overwhelming. Yet. Her fingers clutched convulsively in his shirt but he fought the urge to wrap his arms around her.

  “Why do you care, Lauren?”

  Her lashes swept down to cover her blue eyes a moment before her forehead thunked against his chest. “I don’t know,” was her mumbled reply. “I shouldn’t. I don’t know you. And you don’t share anything about yourself. But—” She melted against him.

  “We’ll talk, sweetheart. Soon. I’ll tell you everything as soon as I know you’re safe.”

  Chapter 11

  His wolf growled, urging him to give in. Here was their mate, standing there, all delicious curves and feminine scents of desire. She wanted them. The wolf knew she was meant to be theirs. The animal couldn’t understand why the man resisted. They should claim Lauren, take her, mark her so the world knew she belonged to them. So they could protect her and keep her safe.

  God but Tait wanted her. Wanted her more than anything in his life. Hell, if he gave in, she’d be his life. No. He wouldn’t go there. He could take her, enjoy her. And walk away without making a claim. Of course he could.

  His gaze strayed to her throat, to the muscle between neck and shoulder where he would bite and mark her when they made love. He forced his eyes away, gritting his teeth in the effort to do so.

  No. He would not claim her. He needed to stop. He had no room in his life for a mate. And even if he did, this was not how he wanted to claim her. She deserved candles and flowers and booze or something. Romance. Lauren was the kind of woman who should be romanced. Too fucking bad he didn’t have a romantic bone in his body.

  She made a strangled noise in the back of her throat, her eyes wide in…what? Not fear. Dismay? Maybe. She was nervous, skittish, like a deer that knows a predator is near. “W-why are you staring at me like that?”

  “Like how am I staring?” His voice resonated with a buried growl as she backed away.

  “Like…I don’t know. Like I’m a rare steak and you haven’t eaten in a week.”

  “Been longer than that,” he muttered, stalking her. His wolf liked this game, liked it a lot. She continued to retreat, glancing over her shoulder to see where he was herding her. His bedroom was the final destination, but he’d settle for the couch. Not as good as his bed, but it’d do. He was so fucking far gone now, his wolf so close to the surface that he was surprised his hands weren’t furry. He pursued her across the room and when she half-turned toward the front door, he moved with preternatural speed, his hand closing around her biceps. He hauled her to him.

  She gasped and before she could close her mouth, he collected a kiss from her. She was expecting his conquering hero kiss, like the first one they’d shared—all pillaging and burning and rampaging Viking invader. Desire smoldered deep inside her and it wouldn’t take much to ignite. She was ready for him, for that challenge. Which she would resist.

  Except that’s not how he kissed her.

  Oh, no. The sneaky jerk’s kiss was full of yearning, like a soldier leaving for the war. No. Not that. More like one who’d been away for years and was finally home. The kiss was a little rough, a lot desperate. There was passion—hard and hot, like there was a craving in his soul that only she could satisfy. His grip on her loosened as his tenderness swamped her. If she let him, he’d consume her. She’d never felt so cherished in her life so how could this be a bad thing?

  Her legs shook, calf muscles burning as she stood on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck. Relief came when one of his hands cupped her butt and lifted her. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist and oh dear God but didn’t that feel wonderful as he rubbed his erection against her core.

  Tait ignored the wolf in his head. The damn thing was smirking. About time we claimed her. He carried her to his room, kicking open the door. He paused just inside to toe off his boots. A double thump sounded behind him. Lauren had kicked off her own boots. He was still ravaging her mouth, nipping and tasting as he eased down on the bed, keeping her beneath him.

  He broke the kiss. “I’m sorry,” he murmured against her cheek. “I wanted to make this good. Give you some romance.”

  A testy grumble escaped her mouth. “I don’t need romance. I need you.”

  He could manage that. Barely. His wolf howled inside him—the sound full of joy and satisfaction.

  As his mouth and hands were all very busy, she could state without question the man knew how to multitask. And the slow, steady simmer of arousal burned away any shyness she might still harbor, heating her from the inside out until she arched from the pleasure of it. Her mind went quiet; her blood went hot. She turned to him, reached for him, her hands seeking his skin.

  The taste of her seeped into Tait until he was drenched in her. With her curves pressed against him, her hands gliding across his sides and back, the feel of her seduced the seducer. He wanted her skin, the rapid beat of the pulse in her throat, the firm curve of her breast. Soft and strong and warm. Her breath caught, released on a murmur of approval as her hips rose in both invitation and demand.

  When she moved with him, trembled for him, the need inside him that was never quite tamed leaped free. Pushing away, he stared down at Lauren. By every honorable bone in his body, he should tell her what he was, what she was to him. He should give her the chance to choose, to walk away from her destiny. But he couldn’t do it. Turning her loose would be like ripping his heart from his chest. It was too late for him and he knew it. Losing her would mean the death of everything inside him because there was no way he’d ever be able to watch her walk away while he was still living.

  A complicated series of expressions clouded Tait’s face and Lauren didn’t know what to make of them. It was as if his emotions had been stripped bare. His body was stiff, and he looked…angry. She shivered but before she could second guess what was happening, his mouth descended on hers and he devoured her. His hands, his mouth—they were everywhere. Touch
ing, teasing, nipping. She arched off the bed, sucking in air but no matter how hard she panted, she couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen.

  He broke away from her once more, rolling off the bed to stand beside it. “Clothes,” he ordered. “Off.” He was jerking his shirt over his head and shucking his jeans by the time she sat up. “Too slow,” he growled and before she could catch her breath, he’d ripped the T-shirt she wore down the middle and stripped off her jeans.

  Embarrassed by her plain cotton bra and panties, she folded her arms over her chest. He growled again, sounding a lot like Chewy.

  “Don’t hide from me, Lauren,” he ordered. Heat darkened his eyes and amber glints sparked in them. “Lay back, sweetheart.”

  Unsure, she did as he asked, shivering beneath the intensity of his gaze.

  Tait’s fingers caressed the skin of her abdomen and with deliberate intent, he nudged her panties down to reveal the thatch of dark blonde hair at the vee of her thighs. Good. He liked his bed partners natural. Bare pubes were just…not sexy. He pushed a finger through her slick pussy then inside her. Withdrawing it, he put that finger to his mouth and licked. He thoroughly enjoyed the way her pupils dilated and her breathing hitched.

  “Delicious,” he declared before dropping to his knees, grabbing her legs and positioning her so her hips were hanging over the edge of the bed. Shouldering between her thighs, he lowered his head and tasted her with his tongue.

  Only one man had ever gone down on her and he did it with such little relish—and as a tradeoff for a blow job, the experience left Lauren with little to judge by. Shooter? He was feasting on her. And enjoying every lick and nibble. Glorious! She sank her hands into his wiry, dark hair. When it seemed like he might stop, she tugged. His head raised and those intense eyes of his bored into her. “Gotta warn you, city mouse. I like it hard and rough. You up for that?”

  Her reply was a gasp, a hard shiver, and a look of panic. He leashed the animalistic urge to claim his mate. Slow down. He had to slow down. Make sure she was ready for him. He rubbed his nose over her clit and inhaled the richness of her arousal. His lips fastened on the little nub and nibbled. When she squirmed, he held her still with hands squeezing her hips.

  The rough stubble of his beard scraped against the insides of her thighs before it rasped across far more tender flesh. The brief pain bled over into pleasure when he started to work her with his mouth. Then he added fingers, rubbing through her slick folds and teasing her entrance. She braced her feet against the bed and bucked having never experienced anything this intense, this…pleasurable. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted him to stop. She wanted to wrap her legs around his head and squeeze so he couldn’t stop. He braced a forearm across her belly to hold her in place.

  One thick, blunt finger entered her and she moaned. A few pumps and swirls and a second joined, then a third. Long strokes followed by short jabs as the pads of his fingers rubbed over her G-spot and his lips sucked her clit. Her body quivered uncontrollably, then tensed and with a keening cry, she came, leaving her with teary eyes, blurry vision, and unable to breathe.

  Damn but she was beautiful when she orgasmed and a pang of guilt punctured him. Tait should tell her what he was, what she was to him, but his desperate need was too great. She wasn’t fertile. He could fuck her now and face the consequences later when she left him. And she would once she discovered his secret. He was so screwed. The need to mate her was imperative because he was completely moonstruck. Had she been in her cycle, he would have had no chance against the compulsion.

  “Lauren.” Her name gritted out as he fought his wolf for control. “Say no and I’ll walk away. If you don’t, this is it. You’re mine.”

  Her eyes were glazed with ferocious desire and his lust spiked higher. “What does that mean? That we’ll be going steady or something?”

  He almost laughed. Or something meant so much more than he could explain at the moment. Language and logic were failing him. “Yeah. Or something.”

  Her eyes, no longer hiding behind the lenses of her glasses, were a luminous blue, her expression softening now to languid and sated. Yes, now, she thought. Right now. Then she remembered she had to say it out loud. “Yes.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to change her mind or adjust to his size. He couldn’t. At that moment, his control was nonexistent. It was flash and burn when he plunged inside her. She was hot and slick and her inner muscles stretched to let him in. He groaned, his thighs and butt tensing as he hunched against the tightness of her channel.

  The glorious shock of his entrance widened her eyes. He felt enormous as he filled her, stretching and shaping her to fit him. And when he plunged in and withdrew only to push in again, she lost the ability to think. Never. Ever. Had she felt like this. Her thoughts, like her breath, came is short gasps. His eyes watched her, glinting gold and red so that he looked wild, almost feral. And he wanted her. Her! Lauren Maureen Reilly. Short. Curvy. Geeky Lauren Reilly.

  Tait was about to explode but he wasn’t done with her yet. He wanted her to come again. And again. He lowered his head and took one nipple into his mouth, laving and nibbling, nipping with his teeth until her breath caught and she lost the rhythm of his thrusts. Her fingers gripped his biceps as they flexed, holding his weight off her as he pounded inside her.

  “Shooter,” she murmured, her eyes drifting shut as she wound tighter and tighter.

  “Tait,” he ground out, wanting her to know his real name. “My name is Tait McCord.”

  Her inner muscles gripped him like a fist coated in wet silk and he groaned. Her orgasm milked his dick, clenching and pulling until he couldn’t hold back any longer. He came with a howl, his dick seated all the way to the hilt as he pumped his seed into her. Bracing on his forearms, he lowered his body to cover hers. Taking her lips in a gentle kiss before burying his nose behind her ear, he fought with his wolf. His canines ached with the need to mark her and he bit back a growl. Not yet. He shouldn’t claim her completely until he spilled his secrets along with his seed. Too bad his wolf didn’t agree.

  Chapter 12

  “Red sky at morning,” Lauren murmured. She eyed the wolfdog sitting at the bottom of the porch steps with a dubious expression. “I’m still not convinced you won’t eat me if Tait doesn’t feed you.” Elbows propped on her knees as she occupied the top stair of the porch, she leaned forward to plop her chin into her cupped hands.

  Chewy stared at her, unblinking. He didn’t bare his teeth. Tait considered that a win on the side of detente between the two. Lauren wasn’t exactly a dog person. Which made revealing his secrets a little tough. Well, a lot tough, since he turned furry. He watched the animal, noting Chewy’s attitude. Alert, focused, but in a way indicating that the hybrid was…guarding Lauren? Even though she’d showered, his scent would still be embedded in her skin. Chewy acknowledged Tait as alpha male. Was the dog now accepting Lauren as the alpha female?

  “It’s not fair, you know.” Lauren continued speaking to Chewy. Tait was pretty sure the words were aimed at him, though she had no idea he was eavesdropping. “He doesn’t talk. I operate on words, on information, and he’s even worse than you when it comes to sharing.” She leaned forward going almost nose to nose with the wolfdog. “The only thing you share is drool and hair.”

  Chewy growled, the rumble coming from deep in his chest.

  “Oh, hush. You know I’m right. You’re a dog.” The emphatic distaste in her voice was obvious to animal and man alike. “Dogs drool and shed. You can’t help it, I suppose. But he’s…” She raised her hand and made circular motions in the air with it, like she could conjure up words. “He’s a man. And yes, men are portrayed as being reticent, but he takes the definition to whole new levels. He’s beyond stoic.”

  She put her hands behind her and leaned back, staring up at the sky. “Still red. Good thing I’m not a sailor, huh? I should take warning though. Getting involved with him?” She tucked her chin so she could meet Chewy’s eyes. “Bad
idea. Still, we’re practically living together. Besides, it’s not like I want anything too TMI because…I don’t care how many women he’s slept with, or if he’s briefs or boxers. Or commando.” That last came out breathy. “Okay, maybe I do care about the bimbos, because…well, just because.”

  Stretching out, Chewy lay down and rested his muzzle on his front paws. He cocked one ear in her direction, as if asking for her to continue. After a few moments of contemplative silence, she said, “I mean, my life’s on the line, y’know? I found those darn files and now all these people want to shoot me. Or worse. So, I ran away. And like an idiot, I called someone I thought I could trust. Because I don’t make a good spy. Or criminal. Or…I’m not like that. I’m a historical archivist for goodness sake. I don’t even watch James Bond movies. I should rectify that because I’m definitely on the run now. And because I might have been ready when this big, hunky guy arrived. A hot, handsome hero who rides in, kisses me, and bam! I’m at his mercy.” She sighed deeply. “And worse.”

  She tilted her head and Chewy mimicked the motion. “Can you keep a secret?” The dog whrrfled and cocked his ears forward. “We did it last night. And I mean we did it. The man is…” Another lusty sigh as she leaned her head back eyes closed and a smile playing over her swollen lips. Lips he’d kissed into that condition.

  Tait moved closer to the open door, not that he couldn’t hear her, but so he could watch her closely. Her monologue was enlightening.

  “When I say something meaningful to him, I feel like I’m talking to the air,” she told Chewy. “Or talking to you. It’s about the same.” Chewy had crept up the steps until his was pressed against her legs and her next sigh was deep enough it ruffled his fur. “How can he not know how I feel?”