Running with Wolves (Shifter Country Wolves Book 1) (12 page)

He and Elliott looked at each other.

“Is that the cable guy?” asked Elliott.

Shane frowned.

“It’s seven at night,” Shane said. He tossed his plastic tray in the sink and walked to the door, Elliott trailing behind him.

It’s someone from the pack
, he thought.

This is worse than I thought it would be. They’ll be like the mafia, and they’re going to give Elliott and I one hour to get out of town or they’ll burn the house down or something, all because I keep punching Zeke.

There was another knock on the door, louder this time.

“Coming!” Elliott called out, and Shane shot him a look.

“Is it the pack?” Shane hissed. He could feel his body already moving into a crouch, ready to shift and fight at a second’s notice.

“What are you talking about?” Elliott asked.

“After I punched someone?”

Elliott gave him a weird look and opened the door, completely unconcerned.

“Hi,” said Greta.

Shane stood up straight, shoving his hands into his pockets like he hadn’t been half-crouched behind his mate, thrilled to see Greta and relieved that she wasn’t the pack, there to kick his ass.

She swallowed, then looked from Shane to Elliott and back.

“Is this a bad time?” she asked, seeming a little nervous.

“No,” said Shane.

“Not at all,” said Elliott. “We were just, um, talking about you. Come in.”

“Good stuff or bad stuff?” she asked.

“Neutral stuff,” said Elliott, a gleam in his eye.

Greta gave a short laugh, then seemed to relax a little.

“I guess that’s all right,” she said, sliding her own hands into her pockets, like she felt awkward and wasn’t quite sure what to say.

“Did you eat already?” Shane asked, finally finding his voice. “I mean, we just microwaved TV dinners, but I think we’ve got some more if you’re hungry.”

Greta lifted her eyebrows.

“You microwave TV dinners?” she teased, her perfect, sly smile spreading over her face. Shane could feel his heart beat faster in his chest. “I thought it was gourmet cooking here every night.”

“Apparently not,” said Elliott, casting Shane a teasing look. “Today I was told that I could have my office unpacked or my dinner made, but not both.”

Greta laughed.
 

“That’s fair,” she said.

“There’s still cheesecake,” Shane offered. “Even the two of us aren’t capable of eating most of a cheesecake in two days.

“And we’ve tried,” said Elliott.

“Yes,” Greta said, her eyes getting a little wider. “Yes, a thousand times yes to cheesecake.”

Shane grinned, finally relaxing all the way.

“Then come on back to where the magic happens,” he said.

“You made that joke a couple of nights ago,” Greta told him, following his path to the kitchen.

Behind her, Elliott laughed out loud.

“Shit,” Shane said.

He served the cheesecake on dinner plates that were far too large for the slices, but he couldn’t find the dessert plates, even though he knew he’d had them two days ago.

Fuck unpacking
, he thought for the thousandth time that day.

“This is still incredible,” Greta said. “I think it might be better today.”

“Nah,” Shane said. “The crust got a little soggy.”

Elliott didn’t say anything, just rolled his eyes and kept eating.

There was a moment of silence, as the men tucked into their dessert and Greta looked down at her cake.

“So I wanted to come over and apologize,” she said. “I got all your messages, and I almost called you back, but then I figured, just go over and see them in person, and maybe they’ll have cake.”

“Correct on that count,” said Elliott around a mouthful.

“I wasn’t mad at you,” she said. “It was my dad. Again.”

Shane nodded.

“This has been an ongoing argument I’ve had with them,” she said, poking the surface of her cake gently with her fork. “I have a pretty good life, you know? And even if I don’t have a mate or two yet, I own a business that does well, and I own a house, and I
like
how things have turned out for me. But all they’re capable of seeing is ‘single and thirty’ so they all assume that I must be miserable and desperate for someone to come take me off the market.”

She jammed her fork into the cheesecake and took a bite.

Elliott nodded and swallowed.

“We didn’t ask you on a date because we thought your dad was going to reward us with a herd of goats,” he said softly.

Greta snort-laughed.

“We asked you on a date because you stopped a bar fight between two wolves and make a mean cocktail,” Shane said.

“You only had whiskey that night, not a cocktail,” Greta said.

“I guess it was just the bar fight, then.”

Greta looked pleased, despite herself, and took another bite of her cheesecake.

“Well,” she said. “I’m sorry that I ran off. I couldn’t quite deal with seeing you guys after my dad basically told the whole pack that I’m a wrinkled old prune. It felt like people might think you were only after me to make my dad happy.”

“That’s not at all why we’re after you,” Elliott assured her, a grin slowly taking over his face.

Greta ate the last bite of her cheesecake, then sighed, putting her plate into the sink.

“Okay,” she said, looking from Shane to Elliott and back. “Where’d we leave off the other night?”

Chapter Twelve

Greta

Greta could hear her heart thundering through her veins as she said it. She didn’t think she’d ever been so bold in her life — even though she wasn’t shy normally, she always got a little nervous when it came to romance.

Not that she’d needed to worry.

With a huge grin on his face, Shane swooped down and in a second, he’d picked her up and was striding with her into the living room, where he practically tossed her down onto the couch, right in front of the fireplace.

Greta bounced a little on the couch and squealed. She wasn’t usually the squealing type either, but fuck ‘usually’ tonight.

Shane sat on the couch next to her, but instead of letting him lean over, Greta pinned him into place with a knee on either side, both hands on his wide, muscular chest.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, and already, Greta could feel his long, thick shaft rock-hard through his jeans and despite herself, she moved her hips against it, already aching and warm.

“How about—“

“Shh,” Greta said, putting a finger over Shane’s lips.

He hushed instantly, and Greta moved her mouth onto his, feeling his warm lips part for her, the slight stubble on his cheeks scratching hers. His hands moved to her hips as she moved their mouths together, shyly seeking out his tongue with her own, wrestling them together, then biting down
just
a little on his lower lip.

She heard him gasp, and she smiled.

Then hands went over her eyes from the back, and she felt a second strong, warm body behind her, sporting
another
erection.

“Who is it?” she asked, teasingly.

He laced his fingers together over her eyes, and Greta could feel Elliott moving down to whisper into her ear.

“If you guess right I’ll let you go,” he whispered, his lips just barely touching her ear.

Shane’s thumbs stroked the tender skin right above the waistband of her jeans, and between the two men, she shuddered, barely biting back a moan.

“What if I guess wrong?” Greta asked. “What will you do to me then?”

“I guess I won’t let you go if you guess wrong,” Elliott said.

This time Greta
did
moan, a half-strangled noise that came from deep in her throat. Encouraged, Elliott took the chance to nibble on her neck, causing her whole body to shiver in anticipation.

Shane leaned forward and took one still-clothed nipple between his teeth, and Greta gasped. She moaned again, feeling herself melt back into Elliott.
 

He pushed himself against her, his rock-hard erection between her shoulder blades, and Greta bit her lip. Shane bit down just the tiniest bit harder, sending pleasure exploding through Greta’s body.

She wanted them,
desperately.

“Nothing?” Elliott asked.

Shane’s hand stole beneath her shirt, and she could feel his thumb run just below the underwire of her bra. She sucked in a breath as his mouth left her nipple and his fingers moved over her bra, just barely brushing the other puckered, ridged surface.

“Johnnie Walker,” she said, saying the first man’s name who came to mind.

“Close,” said Elliott.

Shane’s hands moved under her bra strap to the back, and her whole body thrilled with anticipation.

Elliott bit her ear, gently.

“Fuck,” she gasped. “Jack Daniels.”

“You’re just naming whiskey,” Elliott murmured. “You’re not even trying.”

His erection was pressed up against her back, then rubbing into Shane’s hand. Shane chuckled, and Greta thought that she could hear Elliott suck a breath in, quickly.

His hands were still over her eyes. She couldn’t see.

“Captain Morgan,” she said, totally unable to think of anything she didn’t see every day. “That one’s a rum, at least.”

“You’ve used all your guesses,” said Elliott.

Shane unhooked her bra and in one motion, lifted both the cups over her breasts, letting her nipples rub against her shirt and his fingers.

“What are you going to do now?” she teased.

She put her own hands over Elliott’s, pulling them away from her face, yanking him along after them. He bent over her, and she grabbed his face and kissed him hard, even though he was practically upside-down, letting her fingers weave through his hair, his slight beard tickling at her face. Shane’s hands covered her breasts, the rough pads of his thumbs sliding over her nipples again and again, and Greta was beginning to feel like she might just explode with desire.

The moment that she and Elliott drew apart, Shane pushed her t-shirt and bra over her head, tossing them somewhere else in the room and leaned forward, latching his lips around her nipple again. At the same time, he grabbed Elliott by the waistband of his pants and pulled him forward, quickly undoing his belt and the top button on his pants. Elliott got his shirt off fast, and then pulled Shane’s away.

Greta felt like her brain had been carbonated, with little bubbles of lust rising to the surface. All she could think about was how
badly
she wanted these two, to feel them inside her, for them to make her scream wordlessly with pleasure.

She grabbed Shane’s pants and undid them, slowly lowering the zipper until a huge bulge rose between its teeth, still clad in his boxers. She grabbed it and squeezed, grinning at Shane’s surprised gasp, every muscle in his perfect body tensing at once.

“For me?” she whispered.

Shane could only nod helplessly, and then she felt Elliott’s hands on her pants, undoing them.

He lifted her off Shane and Shane leaned forward to pull her pants off as Elliott whirled her around, making her face him.

“I’ve been thinking about this for days,” he said, and then kissed her.

Greta felt like she was melting into him, his tongue pressing into her mouth, his hand grasping her head firmly. By the time he pulled away she was gasping for air, Shane’s hands on her hips, pulling her back down.

Then she could feel the tip of his cock at her entrance, almost teasing her, her entire brain fogged with pure desire.

She let herself sink onto it, taking his entire length in one thrust, a moan ripping from her throat as she did. It felt like he was somehow hitting every pleasure spot inside her with his perfect cock.
 

Then she lifted herself up, his strong hands guiding her, and let herself down again.

In front of her, Elliott grinned, his pants unbuttoned, his own cock bulging out.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said.

Greta didn’t respond, she just pulled his pants down and grabbed his cock in both her hands, moving them as she bounced up and down on Shane.

In a moment, Elliott stepped back, took off his pants, and got on his knees.

Greta frowned.

“What are you—”
 

He leaned forward, taking her knees in his hands and pushing them apart, and immediately, Greta understood. Her eyes rolled back in her head as Elliott’s tongue found her pleasure button instantly, flicking it from side to side deftly as the warm heat of her arousal pulsed and threatened to break free, the heady rush of Elliott’s tongue combining with the intense heat of Shane’s thick shaft.

“Oh,
fuck
,” she breathed. Both her hands were on Elliott’s head, her fingers running through his hair, and she could feel his tongue move down, around her lips, and then behind her, Shane groaned hard as Elliott’s lips found the root of his shaft before moving back up.

Elliott’s tongue circled Greta lazily, the slowness driving her completely wild as she got closer and closer to the brink, though every time she approached it, he’d hesitate just for a moment and she would back away. He did it again and again, teasing her, until at last she tightened her grip on his hair.

“Elliott,” she growled.

He flicked his tongue over her, making her gasp.

“Come on,” she begged.

He flicked again, then circled her, careful not to touch her clit.

“Just make me cum,” she whispered.

She could have sworn he chuckled, but he licked her harder and harder at the same time that Shane moved inside her, his thick cock pressing up against every pleasure center and moments later, Greta could feel herself tumble over the brink, her mind going white with pleasure. It felt like a volcano exploded inside her, sending red-hot pleasure through her entire body, until even her fingers and toes were tingling with it.

Elliott stood, grinning down at her, then bent and kissed her hard, his tongue in her mouth. Shane was still hard, somehow, and although she felt spent she moved her hips against him as Elliott brushed a thumb over her nipple, making her inhale sharply.

“How about a round two?” he asked, nuzzling against her ear.