Claiming Their Mate Read online

  Every muscle in her body melted, and had he not been holding her, she’d be face down. Kurt pulled out his cock.

  “If I had my way, I’d stay in you a lot longer, but you have goose bumps on your arms. I’m sorry if you were cold. You should have rung the bell.”

  “I wasn’t cold. Trust me.”

  Kurt stepped off the seat and carried her inside. “Let me wipe you clean.”

  When she stood, that damn plug moved, making her think about him fucking her ass. Oh, boy. She was so not going to sleep tonight.

  Kurt had just wiped her pussy clean when the back door opened. Instinctively, she covered her tits.

  Kurt laughed. “It’s Drake.”

  How did that make it better? They might have claimed they wanted to share, but would Drake be jealous she’d just had the most amazing sex on the planet?

  “Whoa!” Drake’s grin spread across a very tired-looking face. “Darlin’, please don’t ever change.”

  Chapter Nine

  Chelsea breezed by Drake. “You had your chance.”

  For a second, she regretted her flippant tone, but his wink told her that he understood he deserved her response. Kurt came inside, fully dressed, with the bag of toys and her thong.

  He handed it to her. “Thought you might want this.”

  “Thanks.” Despite trying to act casual, her face burned.

  When she bent over to put on her panties, the plug made its presence known. Drake must have seen her wince, for he moved behind her.

  “Whoa, darlin’. Nice addition.” He tapped her ass.

  She worked hard not to respond. After she slipped on her panties, she finished dressing. “How did Gulfside go?”

  He cocked a brow and shot a glance at Kurt. Neither said anything for thirty seconds, but their expressions changed. Telepathy was only cool if one was on the giving or receiving end. For her, it just plain sucked being left out.

  Drake turned to her. “I’ll be going back tonight. I missed you so much I drove here just to see you.”

  Really? Okay, that was sweet. “I’m glad.”

  He stepped close and hugged her. “I really did miss you, darlin’. I wanted to be sure we were okay. It was on my mind all day.”

  He kept his voice to a whisper, as if he only wanted her to hear.

  She leaned back and studied his face. Sincerity and regret filled his face. “Thanks for telling me.”

  Drake looked over her shoulder. “You guys made dinner?”

  She laughed. “We were in the middle of it when we got distracted.” She turned to see what Kurt was doing. He’d taken the cut chicken out of the refrigerator.

  Drake stepped over to the stove and nodded to the saucepan on the burner. “What is it?”

  “It’s supposed go on top of the chicken. It has mushrooms, milk, onions, and a few other ingredients in it.”

  “Need help?”

  “We have it under control. Right, Kurt?”

  “The dinner portion is good.” Kurt waved the meal card. “Drake, maybe you’d like to make some dessert.”

  He grinned. “I can do that.”

  She wanted to watch the men work together, as well as watch Drake create something special.

  “What are you going to make?”

  “Not sure, but it should taste good.”

  Such confidence. He pulled a box of cake mix from the cupboard that probably had been there for months. He then looked through the cabinets and took out some powdered sugar and Hershey bars.

  “I thought one used unsweetened chocolate for frosting.”

  He grinned. “Oh ye of little faith. I’ll make do with what we have.”

  While he prepared his magic, she turned on the stove and waited for the sauce to thicken. She picked up the recipe and read what came next. In the meantime, Kurt removed the broccoli and finished chopping it. Once done, he got out a broom and swept the kitchen floor laden with bits of food from their fight.

  Drake began to whistle, and Kurt glared at him. The two were as different as silk and steel, but it was nice to have the contrast. While she stirred the sauce, she marveled at how Drake never measured anything. He didn’t even read the back of the cake mix box.

  “You want me to turn on the oven for that cake?”

  “Sure.”

  He didn’t seem concerned what temperature she used, so she guessed 350 degrees. Once the sauce bubbled, she brought the pot to Kurt. “If you don’t mind taking over, I’ll shower.”

  “I’d love to join you, but I guess I need to make sure we get something edible to eat.”

  “If we shower together, you know we’ll end up in bed. Not only does my pussy need the rest, so do my nipples.” It was also true she wanted to have a little time to herself to reflect.

  “I hear you, honey. We’ll respect your needs.”

  She went into her room and locked the door. That might have appeared hostile, but right now, she wanted to be safely alone. Most likely she was still feeling the effects of the attack.

  She stepped in the shower to enjoy the peace. For the next ten minutes, she tried to blank her mind. Unfortunately, she kept comparing the two men. They thrilled her, and she couldn’t imagine how high she’d soar if she let both men touch her. They seemed to understand her body better than she did, which, frankly, scared her.

  They were her bodyguards, and yet she was letting all this talk of being their mate get under her skin. What would her life be like once Mendez was caught and in jail? Would the men move on to the next person they had to protect? Or would they want her in their life?

  She washed her hair and scrubbed her body clean. Since she had no idea when dinner would be ready, she stepped out of the shower and dried. Not wanting either man to think sex was in the cards tonight, she dressed as casually as possible.

  She walked down the hall, expecting to hear some chatter. In the kitchen, only Kurt was there.

  “Where’s Drake?”

  “Seems Clay and Dirk got a lucky break and needed Drake to do his computer magic.”

  That didn’t sound safe. “Is it dangerous?”

  “You sound concerned.”

  What was that supposed to mean? “Of course I’m concerned.”

  “Don’t worry about Drake.” Kurt’s tone had an edge to it. “He can take care of himself.” He’d said that before and it had been true, but a time would come when he was outnumbered and might not survive.

  Dear God. Drake was walking straight into danger.

  #

  Even though Drake had only spent a few minutes with Chelsea, he’d needed to see her. She was the breath of fresh air that renewed his soul. Although she said she’d forgiven his bad behavior, he wanted to make sure he hadn’t messed things up for a lifetime.

  When he arrived at the house and found she’d made love to Kurt, he’d been glad. Mr. Stoic giving into his urges made Drake very happy. At one time, he’d thought his friend would refuse to be with her for fear he wouldn’t catch Mendez.

  Hell, Kurt struggled about contacting Clay and Dirk and asking for their help. Technically, the general had only released Kurt from the case, though he suspected the ban probably included him, too.

  Clay called a while ago and said they’d spotted Mendez going into the warehouse. They’d been watching and listening for a few hours and overhead two workers commenting that the place would be emptied tonight between six and nine—long before the night shift arrived.

  Having too much activity, even in the warehouse district late at night, might raise some suspicion. Hence, the three-hour moratorium. Drake only needed fifteen minutes inside the warehouse to complete his job.

  He parked a few blocks away and pulled on his backpack full of gear. He had two goals. One was to download as much information from the computers as time allowed. He based this on the assumption that his random generating device could detect the password. Secondly, bug the building. Since Kurt couldn’t ask Trax to put in surveillance equipment without the general finding out, Drake
planned to install listening devices in the offices and around the area where they were extracting the cocaine from the clothes. He had two small cameras he might be able to affix somewhere.

  If he had time, he would also plant a device to pick up and relay the GPS signal from the cell phones near the office. That would allow him to intersect the texts and possibly the voice calls.

  He was going in solo. Clay and Dirk were there simply to warn him if something unexpected occurred. Drake spotted his friends and telepathed he was there. To gain a different vantage point, he waited on the other side of the building and brought binoculars to his eyes. Light glowed inside the building, but the windows were painted, preventing anyone from seeing in. Smart.

  The wait was the hardest part of the job. To bide his time, he imagined Chelsea bent over a spanking bench. While he tweaked and pulled her nipples until she screamed his name, Kurt would slap her ass a pretty red.

  Enough. He adjusted his balls. What had he been thinking? If he didn’t stay focused on the job, he’d never get inside. First thing he needed to figure out was how to get inside. A fabric company with a fire escape on the front sat next to the warehouse. A distance of about five feet separated the buildings. If he climbed up on the building on the left, he might be able to jump across the gap to the warehouse and find a way in from the roof.

  He telepathed his intent to Clay.

  Be careful.

  Clay and Dirk had no idea how much was at stake. He wanted Mendez not only to revenge Jeffrey’s death, but for what he’d done to Chelsea. The man would pay if it was the last thing Drake did.

  He surveyed the area and waited until all activity died. Since it was after six, he believed it might be clear. The big negative to his plan was that the fire escape was in plain view of passing cars. It was dark, but if a vehicle rolled in and headlights caught him in the act, he’d be S.O.L.

  Being careful but fast, he dodged his way to the building and raced up the fire escape, making sure not to slip on the metal steps. Once on top, he ducked below the railing to see if he’d been spotted.

  His binoculars were military issue and had infrared ability. Both roofs had the same entrance on the top. Now all he had to do was jump the five-foot gap between the buildings. He kept low and made his way to the edge. He tossed his backpack onto the roof of Mendez’s building and prayed none of the equipment broke. Then he jogged back ten feet and raced toward the railing. He planned to jump and leap across. If he missed, he’d die. He might be a wolf inside, but his human limitations could be his undoing.

  He pictured Chelsea and took off. He landed with one foot onto the railing, pushed off, and wind milled his arms as he flew across the gap. One toe barely touched the ledge, but his forward moment propelled him over. He landed with a thud and did a tuck and roll to stop. His heart shot to his throat. He definitely needed to go on more operations to build a little stamina. He’d gotten soft playing with his computer.

  His cell phone buzzed. Uh oh. It was Dirk. “Yeah?”

  “Sorry, but the general just called. We got a lead on Elena Sanchez.”

  Elena Sanchez. The name was so familiar. “Who’s she?”

  “She was Couch’s secretary, the one who disappeared right after Liz Wharton paid her to quit her job.”

  Trax had mentioned her. “I thought she went to Costa Rica.”

  “Apparently not. Rumor has it Couch has her held hostage near the shipyard. Sorry, buddy.”

  He’d come this far and wasn’t going to back down now. “I’m good. Go.” He understood if Clay and Dirk didn’t respond quickly, the general might get suspicious.

  After Drake checked his pack to make sure his gear had survived the toss, he retrieved his picks in case he found the door locked. To his surprise, it wasn’t. One item he thought Mendez would have checked.

  The damn door squeaked when he pulled it open. Holding his breath, he counted a full minute before he went down. He slipped in and waited once more, until he was convinced a pack of wolves weren’t about to charge up the stairs.

  He edged his way down the two flights and tugged on the door that would get him to the main floor. That door was locked as well. He clicked on his headlamp and went to work with his picks. It only took ten seconds to open it. Old buildings weren’t sophisticated. If he’d been Mendez, he would have redone every lock in the building. Both Couch and Mendez were arrogant enough to believe no one would ever find the place.

  Sorry, boys. You lose.

  He flipped the headlamp to red and snuck in. The bank of overhead lights were off, a good sign the place was unmanned. By chance, he looked up and spotted the surveillance camera. He pulled out his black spray can, coated the lens, then stuck one of his cameras underneath. Most likely they wouldn’t think to look there.

  Since the lights were out in the factory, his red headlamp would appear on film, so he turned it off. If he didn’t have his pack, he would have shifted and used his own eyes to guide him.

  Once he got used to the low light, he located the office and found the computer on the desk. He hit the space bar, and the screen saver came to life. Plugging in his device, he allowed it to search for the password. One minute went by, and then two. Even though it might be an hour before the workers came back, he was convinced there’d be a security guard somewhere. A one-on-one battle didn’t bother him, but if there were two of them, there might be trouble.

  Bingo. The machine detected the password. He was in. He shoved his flash drive in the USB port and downloaded the files he thought were important. Time wouldn’t permit him to take everything.

  A noise sounded on the main floor. Fuck. He removed the drive, closed the laptop, and shut off his headlamp. He fumbled in his pack for the GPS device and stuck it underneath the desk. Unless the user was nearby, it wouldn’t work.

  Drake crawled toward the window and peeked out. Two men with flashlights were out there. They were too far away to tell if they were werewolves, but he couldn’t believe Mendez would employ anyone who wasn’t. It was safer to assume they were. If he moved closer, he’d be able to detect their scent, which meant they could smell him.

  He waited another eternity, pissed he had spent a few days scoping out this factory, and hadn’t realized Mendez had security. Being careless wasn’t his style, but with so much at stake, he’d been over-anxious.

  Crap. The men were coming toward the office. It was now or never. If they found him in there, he’d lose everything. He donned his pack, eased open the door, and slid out, leaving a piece of folded paper in the jamb to keep the lock from clicking close. The problem was getting to the roof access. That door would attract too much attention. His best bet was to wait for the guards to patrol away from the side entrance and make a run for it.

  They made a full circle, and because they were joking with each other, they didn’t even sense his presence. Losers.

  Go now. He lowered his head and wove his way around the tables toward the door.

  All of a sudden, the overhead bank of lights blared. Fuck. Hoping they were lousy shots, he dashed toward the door.

  “Hey, you! Stop!”

  That wasn’t a command he planned on obeying. Just as he reached the door and pulled it open, they opened fire. At least two bullets pinged off the metal walls, but one hit its mark. Jesus. They’d shoot him in the ass. While not fatal, it would slow him down and make him sick. He had just made it outside and was running as fast as he could when the door behind him opened with a bang. Their snarls reached him first.

  I’m screwed.

  His car was too far away. He’d never make it. Drake spun and discarded his pack behind a bush. When he exited, he came out in his wolf form. His hindquarter wasn’t in good shape, as the poison had already taken hold.

  Wanting to put as much distance between him and his gear, he went on the offensive. As least with the guards in wolf form, they couldn’t shoot a gun. Neither guard had looked particularly in good shape when in human form, and the two-to-one ratio wouldn’t have
worried him, had he not had poison coursing through his system.

  Instead of wasting energy circling and snarling, he charged, hoping to catch them off-guard. He succeeded in sinking his teeth into the first wolf’s flanks, but unfortunately, that exposed his rear. Wolf number two bit his ass right where he’d been shot. Pain streaked across his body. Fuck. His usual ability to heal was blocked by the poison. His rear dropped, and he was forced to retreat. When the second wolf sprang in the air, Drake managed to dart to the side and avoid the collision. Given he was younger and more agile, he spun faster and leapt at that wolf who was only now turning around. He got to him first and succeeded in biting the wolf’s neck. The wounded animal stumbled back and must have decided his life wasn’t worth losing. After all, Drake was no longer a threat to the contents of the warehouse.

  That left him with one wolf that seemed determined to win. Drake’s vision blurred as the poison ran rampant in his body. It seemed as if Chelsea’s cries of passion rang down from above, and a small burst of energy allowed him to attack. The two dug their teeth into the other, but Drake clawed the wolf’s face and blinded him in one eye. When the wolf disengaged, Drake took the man’s injury as time to get the hell out of dodge.

  Mustering all of his strength, he sped away. As he passed the bush where he’d hidden his gear, he ducked behind it and shifted. Once in human form, the pain grabbed him hard. His face bled, his clothes were shredded, and his ass screamed. He picked up the pack and darted away. Too bad his car was in the opposite direction. Now what the hell was he going to do?

  Chapter Ten

  Chelsea was watching television with Kurt when his cell rang. His body tensed, which caused her heart to speed up.

  “Drake, where are you? Drake, can you hear me? Drake?” He disconnected and jumped up. “We need to help him.”

  “What happened?”

  “I’m not sure, but get your purse.”

  He sounded scared and pissed. She ran to her room, picked up her bag, and hurried back. Drake might not be dead, but if he couldn’t even answer Kurt, he might be lying on the side of the road in trouble. Her stomach tumbled.