Sanibel Heat -Werewolf Menage Read online

  “If I get my hands on her ex, if not for anything else, I’ll kill him just for marrying her.”

  “You’re crazy, Bren. Are you wasted? You have no right to ask about Troy. You’re not my boyfriend.”

  Chapter 11

  “Agreed, he deserves to die, painfully, for taking our mate from us. We were young and stupid. We didn‘t know the ramifications he placed on us. We were never told what a loss we would feel.” Bren sat next to Jayce and stared at her body. Pushing her knees further apart, he eyed the white cream that dripped from her sex swollen lips. “I can’t believe you came like that,” he muttered, half-jealous - half-proud.

  “You did last night,” Jayce’s eyes followed the white trickle that disappeared through her back crevice. He wanted to pursue it with his tongue wherever it led. Snapping himself out of his hunger, only for her sake, he wrapped the soft blanket over her flushed body. “With the arousal scent that she carries, I’m surprised the other wolves of Sanibel haven’t come by to say hi,” he grinned at his friend and disappeared in his closet. It was way past noon, and he had stayed unabashedly naked for half of the day. Yes, he could pretty much live like that as long, as he was with Tatum.

  “Speaking of the others,” Bren cocked a hip against the closet doorframe. The ire of his wolf had tampered down, and his voice was a faint whisper.

  “Others?” Going commando, Jayce stepped into a pair of black jeans and reached for a dove grey, long sleeved tee.

  “What took me so long was the fact that the others want a shot,” Bren’s wolf flickered at the surface.

  “Oh, shit,” Jayce braced his massive hands on the closet rod in front of him. “As Alpha, I still can’t do anything about that. They’ll say that I’m breaking the rules of the pack, and disrespecting a treaty that was set in stone a millennia ago.”

  “What are the chances that someone else would be her mate, especially from this area?” Bren was rubbing his stomach at the nauseating thoughts circling his head.

  “You know there are multiples on Sanibel and throughout the world,” Jayce shrugged. It was a false gesture; a smooth façade used to hide his concern. “We need to confess, soon. Explain our heritage or we’ll be using those handcuffs to subdue Tatum for her safety instead of her pleasure.”

  With a muttered oath, Bren threw on one of Jayce’s shirts and headed for the door. “I’m taking your car to the restaurant to check on dinner preps. After I look in on the bed and breakfast, I’ll be back. I suggest that you meet with the others that are waiting in the library,” he took a last longing look Tatum before closing the door.

  “How many animals do you have?”

  Renee cracked her jaw. Every time, she drove someone in her car; she had to deal with the pet questions. Smell and fur aside, she had a fabulous little, blue number that was easy on fuel costs. “What animals?” Take that buster with the otherworldly baby blues.

  He gave her a droll look. “Unless I’m mistaken, which is highly unlikely, you have a pet or two…or four.”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “Hackles up for a reason?” His sensual lip curled at the corner. “I am here to protect you, remember?”

  “Yeah, about that,” she turned down the radio, “where’s your car?”

  “I was dropped off,” he crossed massive biceps over his chest. Yeah, he dropped himself off after a wild, invigorating run to Fort Myers.

  It was funny watching his tank of a body fold into her car. With coal-black hair and a sapphire gaze; he had sexual god tattooed across his forehead. Problem was he damn well knew it. That part turned her off. The thing about Renee, was when she was turned off from first encounters, there was no going back to fix it. She pulled a Tatum. It was time to put Bane in his place.

  “Bart, I really appreciate the help. My sister’s ex....”

  “Bane,” he gritted.

  “What, I’m sorry?” She threw him a faux bewildered look.

  “My name is not Bart,” he punctuated every syllable, “but Bane.”

  “Bane what?”

  “Just call me Bane.”

  “So is that like a stage name?” She pushed and pushed and blew his house down. At least, she tried to.

  The curl at the corner of his lip broadened to arrogance, “Something on your mind, sweetheart?”

  “Oh, the endearments,” she fluttered her lashes and took a left turn. “No one has ever called me sweetheart. I won’t be able to sleep tonight.” She pulled in the drive and reached for the door handle.

  “Wait,” Bane cocked his head, “someone’s moving in the house.”

  “I do have animals, okay?” She rolled her eyes and reached for the door.

  “Hush, sweetheart,” he palmed her mouth, as he searched the area from the front seat. A flicker of movement caught his astute vision. A Were, he thought, that he could not smell. Cautiously, he stepped out and scanned the area for more. “Stay put,” he ordered and snagged her keys. He could have turned the locks with his mind, but she wasn’t supposed to know that. Instead of catching the prowler with the speed of his beast, he was unlocking the fucking door.

  Of course, he was too late, big surprise there. They were long gone and could lock doors and windows, as well. Although, he was convinced of the presence of a Were, he couldn’t prove something that he couldn’t scent. He wouldn’t know their pack or their type. Whoever it was undoubtedly was not from their extended family. A Beta knew everyone in his pack. She could not stay here, since she wasn’t safe and possibly hunted. Since her sister was a mate, then there was more than a fifty percent chance that Renee was. When he could get her aroused, he would find out if she were his. Most certainly, he could better secure her on the island, a beautiful possibility that he was going to suggest to Jayce. Stepping onto the front stoop, he placed the call.

  “Iace=m in a meeting,” Jayce bit out, clearly frustrated. He had been on the defense against twelve of his kind. Although he was the boss, there was no staring down twelve angry wolves with the same hungry agenda. They wanted their chance with Tatum, yesterday.

  “Do I need to run interference?” Bane knew exactly what was happening. He had verbal altercations with the wolves throughout the night to protect his Alpha during the initial claiming. If the co-mates made it to the full moon with Tatum, it would be a miracle.

  “You’ve done enough, thanks,” he meant it. “Please, make Renee your priority. She’s my mate’s sister, and I suspect a fellow mate.”

  “There was another in Renee’s house,” Bane glanced at Renee. She openly wore a scowl and had her hand tensed on the door handle.

  “There was a wolf in her home? Are you certain?” he took a calming breath. “Never mind, it was a stupid question. Of course, you’re sure,” he wiped a weary hand over his jaw and stared at his guests. “I guess you’ll have to bring her here.”

  “I have another suggestion,” he volunteered. “She could stay with me at the B & B, and you could continue your, for lack of a better word, honeymoon.”

  “She’ll never go for it. She’s the most obstinate, stubborn female that I’ve ever met.” Jayce knew that Bane would keep her safe. He was a bad-ass Beta and loved a good fight.

  “Perfect, I like a challenge.”

  “No Bane, not this kind of challenge.”

  “Is that official?”

  “Yes,” Jayce hissed.

  “What if she offers herself?” Bane bent to open Renee‘s car door.

  “Bane, I know you can be persuasive, but let that be it. No taking, no pushing, and definitely no conquering.”

  “You got it,” he led Renee to her house. “Persuasion it is, I‘ll be in touch.”

  Renee blinked a couple of times and reached for the door. “Sugar Baby isn’t barking.”

  “Sugar Baby…the dog,” he closed and locked the door behind them. “She was in the back bedroom on the bed.”

  “How would you know my dog is female?” Renee strode the hall and counted heads. Yes, everyone was safe.<
br />
  “Well,” he stammered, “with a name like that, why wouldn‘t I?”

  Her face went up in flames. “Bart, I really appreciate your help, earlier. It was alarming to see someone watching me from the parking lot of Swaying Palms. But let’s face it,” she put a hand on each hip and took in his size. “My imagination was running amuck. Troy had gotten to me. Heck, Granny had gotten to me, and I’ve made a fool out of myself.”

  No, you haven’t since someone was just here. “Well, let’s say that I agree with you,” he shook his head, took a step closer, and allowed his eyes to memorize every flourishing inch of her. “I have one problem.”

  “What’s that?” she took a step back.

  “My boss insists that you come to the island tonight. Sorry,” he wasn’t sorry in the least. “You’re his friend and he wants you protected.” She tensed up, and he braced himself for a fifteen-minute protest. This one, he was confident, was starting with the needs of her pets.

  “Bart, I told you that I was overreacting, and I’m certain that Troy was afraid of Sugar Baby. After all, she is a ball crusher.”

  “Like her old lady,” he stepped closer. If she called him Bart one more time, she was going ass up over his knees. Damn if that thought didn’t make him hard.

  She was up against the wall, no longer back peddling. “Excuse me,” her voice was a little husky, and her tiny house suddenly became a closet. One palm landed at the side of her head, which; therefore, displayed a tremendous, bulging bicep. No doubt about it, Bane was hot. Those sapphire eyes were killing her, again. Hadn’t she decided that he was a turn off, earlier? Yeah, damn straight she had. He was a cocky pecker, and she hated the cocky part.

  “Unless you’re keen on living in the buff,” he was all for that, “I suggest that you pack a few things. I’m waiting.”

  “My animals, I can’t leave them,” she protested.

  “What if there were an emergency, who would watch them?” he countered and drew a deep breath. She wasn’t aroused. Could he be losing his touch?

  “Molly’s my backup and she’s on her honeymoon,” she shrugged as if it were to settle the matter.

  “No,” he shook his head. “Put some food and water out, I’ll take the dog for a quick walk. Until early morning, they should be fine. I’ll have you back by then.” Yeah, right, a big, fat lie. He hid his smile.

  She didn’t appreciate the look on his face. His unblinking stare and feral posture left little to the imagination. He had one thing on his mind, and she had no doubt that it did not involve protection, unless it was latex. “I’m going to call Jayce.” Maybe Bren, she didn’t know. Why were they both so involved with Tatum?

  Great, he was sent to take care of things, and she had to call his Alpha. “Better make it Bren, because Jayce is in a meeting.” He handed her a ringing cell, as Bren picked up.

  “Um…Bren,” she stammered not sure what to say.

  “What’s wrong?” he shot, as she heard keys jangling in the background. “I’ll come and get you, where are you?”

  “Bane is here,” she hesitated. She didn’t want to complain about the oversized body guard that had her on edge, but yet….

  “Why are you calling from his phone, what happened?” he snapped. Signaling Madeline to handle a customer problem, he headed for the side door at the bed and breakfast.

  “Nothing…well,” she stopped.

  Bane delicately took the phone from her hand. “Bren,” he drawled with authority, “Renee needs to come back to the island with me. Jayce is aware of the situation and is in a meeting. It seems,” he eyeballed her up and down, “that she needs some type of reassurance that she will be safe in my care.” Bane longed to get his hands on her. One wanted to wrap itself around her obstinate throat, and the other, oh the other, insanely lusted to tear her clothes and make her his. Trapped between two warring emotions, he handed the phone to Renee. Listening in with his extraordinary hearing, Bane allowed Bren to soothe her nervous soul. Oh the humanity, he was too dark to calm a frightened female. Go figure.

  Tatum twisted, pulled, shoved, and tried to break off the doorknob. “What the hell?” she pounded at the bedroom door that was locked from the outside. She wasn’t stupid. Well, she married Troy and was oblivious to his deceitful life. However, she knew. Jayce and Bren had trapped her here. They claimed to love her and want to marry her…hid her suitcase. She rubbed her temples with her fingertips and sought the closet. Nothing…no clothes were available for anyone under the height of six four. Where had they put her clothes? She pulled a baby blue tee shirt over her head, and even though she was a bit curvier than average, it swallowed her as a winter blanket. Padding to the nightstand, she picked up the phone.

  “Madam?” A lofty voice replaced the dial tone.

  “Who is this?”

  “Charles madam, are you ready for lunch?”

  Some type of servant and an in-house phone, why couldn’t Jayce be simple? “No. I’m ready for my clothes and a taxi to the airport.” She glanced at the clock. “I refuse to miss my flight. Where is Jayce?”

  “He‘s on the property in a meeting. We will take care of your needs.”

  It only took a couple of minutes before the door opened. Instantly, shopping bags from prominent stores littered the suite, alongside a serenely smiling, middle-aged woman who proclaimed to be her personal maid. The maid was explaining that, in lieu of the spa and shopping extravaganza, she was supposed to be going on; it had come to her. According to Lynn, Tatum was tired from the wedding. If Tatum could laugh, she would. A complete take over had been orchestrated by a man who took over everything. She had to find him. Striding past the threshold of the now unlocked door, Tatum swept a cherry wood stained staircase with a wrought-iron banister. The home was spectacular, and the colors were masculine, yet light. Why had they kept her locked in the bedroom? She heard Charles follow her down the stairs.

  “Madam, forgive me. But you are merely dressed in a shirt.” Beads of sweat dotted his upper lip. “Perhaps, Lynn could help you with a nice summer dress. There are plenty of dresses to choose from.”

  “I want to speak with Jayce or Bren,” she took a right towards a darkened hall that led to double doors and a familiar voice. Sure, she was dressed in Jayce’s shirt, but it was a zillion times too large and hung to her knees. Nothing was showing, but Charles was fast on her heels.

  Before her, darkly stained, double doors opened to reveal Jayce with a cocked tawny, tense brow. “Hello, honey, I wasn’t aware that you were awake.” That was a lie as he had heard the change in her respiration and heart acceleration more than a half an hour ago. Instead of comforting, her and explaining her change in the itinerary, he was staring down members of the pack. She was sleep rumpled, sexy, and lingering with the scent of sex: hers, his and Bren’s musk. Sharp inhales were taking place behind his back. Tatum stiffened as he wrapped her in his arms. “I’m in a meeting, Tatum. If there were anything urgent, you could have sent Charles for me,” he chastised. He would have dropped any meeting, and changed any plans for her. Problem was if he were not able to handle the matters behind him, they would seek her out. He was buffering Tatum against the insurmountable lust that was building up in his den.

  She thought that if she were to get Jayce away from the bedroom, she wouldn’t want to stay. She was wrong. It had nothing to do with sex; she was in love with him. She was in love with Bren. He was waiting for an explanation. “My clothes, plane ticket and purse, are all missing,” she hissed.

  “We already discussed this,” his eyes narrowed on her face. “We’re getting married. There’s no need for you to move your things down, since we’ll send for them.” It was a matter of fact tone, as if they had previously discussed everything. They had not. Before she could protest, he clutched her elbow, a little too hard, and turned her to face a dozen guests, all men - all extremely hot. She recognized Mike Carter and blushed furiously. She had danced with him at Molly’s wedding. Without a doubt, he knew where she had been a
ll night especially, given the fact that she was in Jayce’s shirt.

  “May I introduce you to my fiancé and Bren Walker’s as well. It is official as of last night. He placed a chaste kiss on the top of her bed head.

  Through congratulations, handshakes and chatter, Tatum couldn’t believe that he had said it. Not only had she not agreed to marriage, but also Jayce had included Bren in on the announcement. Funny thing was no one was taking it as strange.

  “May I offer my deepest condolences?” A warm hand brought her knuckles to a strikingly handsome face. He had blue eyes, eerily similar to Jayce’s, a large, yet eloquent build and model features. Michelangelo’s David came to mind as she studied his full lips and dark blond, curling hair. His eyes never wavered from hers. “You’ll have to excuse my banter,” he bit his lower lip in a thoughtful, sexy way. “I’m Jayce’s business partner from Miami. I can’t believe that he found you.”