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  She turned her head. “Fuck you.” And made her escape.

  * * * * *

  Nigel didn’t follow right away. He gave her a ten-minute head start before jumping into his truck and going after her. He took his time going to her home, his grin wide as he imagined the row they were about to have.

  God, he loved when she was pissed, the way her face lit up and her hazel eyes went dark. She was a fitting mate for him, the enforcer turned second to the alpha. He sobered for a moment when he remembered the real hurt in her eyes when she’d realized he was going to step in as his father’s heir after all. He had quite a battle on his hands, he knew, but she was worth it.

  As he climbed out of his truck he heard a loud crash from inside the house.

  “Oh hell.” Suddenly certain she was hurt, he ran from his vehicle and burst through the front door. “Shit!”

  He barely ducked in time to avoid the porcelain vase aimed square at his head.

  “Bloody hell, woman!” he yelled as another glass projectile flew at his head. “Would ya stop it? You’re gonna hurt somebody!”

  Claire paused, her arm cocked back, a ceramic pitcher poised for launch. “Good! I hope I knock the hell out of you. How could you do this? You promised me, you bastard!”

  “If you would leave off the hysterics for a moment, we could talk about this.” He was trying like hell to be reasonable, trying not to give in to his basic need to take her to the floor and mount her. The wolf was howling, insisting that if he’d just take her down and fuck her unconscious, he could mark her until she couldn’t even think of arguing.

  “Hysterics? You arrogant prick! First you tie my heart in knots and then leave me. Then you pop back into my life just expecting me to roll over and show you my belly like some submissive…puppy! Then, even knowing how I feel about it, after you promised me, you agreed to become your father’s second.” She threw the pitcher at his feet.

  He felt the growl boiling out of his chest. Submissive puppy? Fuck no. If anything, she was his fucking bitch. His mate. He pounced before she had the chance to grab another breakable object and wrapped his arms around her, trapping her arms at her sides. She thrashed wildly and tried to kick him in the shin. He swept her feet out from under her and they both tumbled to the floor.

  Claire landed on her back, the breath knocked out of her as Nigel landed on top of her. She couldn’t believe he took her to the floor like that. The rat bastard. While she was momentarily dazed from the impact, he grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them above her head. His breath was hot against her cheek, sending chills down her spine.

  “Quit being so stubborn, luv, and listen to me.”

  Dammit, the little growl in his voice when he was all worked up gave her the shivers. She fought to keep hold of her anger in the face of the fierce arousal that burned through her at his touch.

  “There’s nothing to say. You’re taking over for your father. The goddess-be-damned pack and its archaic law will always come first with you. You abandoned me two years ago, and when you take your place as head of the family you’ll be gone again,” she hissed.

  “I left because I had to. And it’s not like you came running up north to find me.”

  Was that hurt she detected in his voice?

  “Maybe not, but I did go to your father the next day.” His eyes clouded over at her words. “That’s right. I went to tell Thomas I couldn’t participate in the Run when I was in love with you. But before I could open my mouth, he told me you’d left.”

  His stunned expression just added fuel to the fire of her rage.

  “You ran away, like I was nothing more than a quick pop-off against a wall. What was I supposed to do, beg you to love me back?”

  “Oh God, Claire, I didn’t know.”

  She closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to look at his handsome face. It hurt too much.

  “We can make this work.”

  She shook her head. She wasn’t about to become a shadow of herself again, even for the man she loved.

  “Listen to me, please.”

  It was the please that had Claire opening her eyes and looking at him.

  “Luv, I agreed to my father’s proposal so that I could change things. Really change things.” She gave an unladylike snort and Nigel hurried on.

  “The pack can’t go on as it is. I see that now. That ‘archaic law’ ruined Taylor’s life, and James’, and very nearly ruined ours as well. As alpha, I can make it so that never happens again. And that starts with my mate. I don’t expect my mate to be a Stepford wife. You can have your own life, the café. I love the woman you are too much to try to change you. As long as you don’t put yourself in danger, luv, you’re free to live your life. Just as long as you live that life with me.”

  Claire’s eyes widened. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wanted to, but Nigel and Taylor had quoted the law to her so often, she didn’t think it was possible to change things, even if he really wanted to.

  “I’ve talked to my father about it, and he agrees. It’s time to bring the pack into the twenty-first century. But I can’t do this without you. I need my mate to stand beside me. I don’t ever want another wolf to be forced to be something they’re not in the name of the law. No one should ever be denied the love that Taylor was. That we almost were.”

  Warm tears gathered in her eyes. She was finally beginning to believe he really did want to change things. He didn’t expect her to give up her café. He didn’t expect her to give up her life to be his mate. He wanted a partner, not a possession. Her heart swelled with love as the dam burst. Her tears overflowed.

  “Is that a yes, luv?” he asked, a flame of hope flaring in his eyes.

  Claire couldn’t find any words. All she could manage to do was nod. His smile bloomed like sunrise and he fell upon her, his mouth crushing down on hers while his hands found the button on her jeans and yanked it off. It hit the floor with a clatter, and she went wild.

  She shoved her hands under his shirt, clawing his chest, and he dropped his head, snarling into the soft skin below her jaw.

  “Careful, luv,” he whispered before his mouth moved down to her neck. He nipped her, and she dug her nails into his shoulders, feral in her passion. Growling, he grabbed the front of her t-shirt and ripped it in two. He would replace her clothes later. Right now he needed to feel her naked skin on his. Her jeans were next. He jerked open the zipper and wasted no time shoving them over her hips and toward her feet.

  Propping himself on his forearm, his hand wrapped tight around both her wrists, he raised up enough to view the prize he’d uncovered. She was so fucking gorgeous, he groaned. All cream-and-pink perfection. His lips slid down to capture one dusky nipple. He sucked lightly and she moaned, arching against his mouth.

  “Goddess, yes,” she moaned, her harsh breaths ruffling his hair. “More. Please, I need more of you.”

  Nigel slipped his free hand between their bodies, diving into her panties. This time he moaned as he encountered her slick flesh. Pushing two impatient fingers along her slit, he teased her, sliding from her clit to rim her quivering entrance. She thrashed in his hold, trying to deepen the contact, and he sucked her other nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tender morsel, giving it the same treatment as the first one. The more she bucked, the softer the caresses became until she was begging him for more.

  “Dammit, Nigel,” she gritted from between clenched teeth.

  She was adorably ferocious in her hunger. If he hadn’t been on the brink of madness himself, he might have laughed.

  “Fuck me already! I can’t wait any longer.” Her scent rose in the air and he inhaled deeply, letting it fill his lungs with apples and cinnamon.

  He drew his fingers free from her pussy. The tiny, strong muscles clamped down as if reluctant to let him go. Releasing her wrists, he ripped his jeans open. As he yanked the zipper down, her hands were there, guiding his cock free of his boxer briefs and jeans.

  Moving quickl
y, he worked her jeans farther down so she could wriggle her right leg free. Jeans hanging around her left ankle, she wrapped her free leg around his hip, lifting up so the angle was perfect for him to plunge straight into her molten heat.

  “Yesss,” she purred as he sank balls-deep. “Deeper,” she moaned. “I need more.” Her greedy little hands crawled up the back of his shirt, sliding around until her nails dragged down his chest in a frenzy as he thrust into her.

  “You are my mate. Now and forever.” Each word was punctuated with a thrust, each deeper, harder than the last. “Tell me, luv. Tell me that you’re mine forever.”

  He ground his hips against hers and lifted his torso so he could gaze down into her lovely face.

  “I am your mate. Forever.” She arched, hips surging against his. Her nails dug into his back. “I’m yours. As long as you don’t get all macho on me.”

  He threw back his head and laughed because even in the middle of fucking she was still defiant. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “Ahhh, luv,” he rasped against her neck. “I will try not to be such a macho man.” He slowed his thrusts down to the point he was barely stirring in her. “It will be hard, though.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Goddess, don’t stop. What are you doing?”

  “I’m being ‘not macho’. My macho instincts are to fuck you into oblivion, but I’m practicing restraint. Why,” he made a small circle with his hips, “is something wrong?”

  “Okay.” She thrust her hips toward his, trying for a harder contact. “Maybe we need to rethink the macho thing.” She was close to whining.

  “Is this too macho for you?” he asked, and slammed into her hard, drawing a scream from her.

  “No,” she panted. “Not too macho.” Her breath was a ragged sob.

  “How about this, luv? Still think I’m too macho a man?” He pounded into her three more times, hips jackhammering. Her sheath clamped down on his cock as he began to withdraw achingly slowly. She gave a strangled scream and banged her fists against his back.

  “Okay, okay, I get it. I want you to be very macho when you’re inside of me, dammit.” She hitched her leg higher up on his back.

  The motion squeezed him even tighter, and all at once he was through teasing. Pulling back, he grasped her hips firmly and slammed home. He pounded into her body and she begged for more.

  Her soft skin cushioned his every movement. She was made to fit him, inside and out. Each thrust took them higher. Each swivel of his hips wound the spring tighter until finally she exploded, her pussy tightening and convulsing around his dick.

  “I love you, Claire,” he whispered. Her sheath rippled the length of his dick, and she screamed her pleasure.

  “Nigel, I love you!” Her words, coupled with the feel of her gripping his cock, flung him over the edge and into oblivion.

  He threw back his head and howled, feeling his seed blaze from his balls up the length of his cock to flood her willing, clasping pussy.

  “I love you, mate,” he rasped, filling her with his love and his seed and his hope for the future. “Love you,” he whispered as he fell to the floor beside her, gathering her close to his heart.

  She turned into his body and wrapped her arms around him, cuddling his head into the crook of her neck.

  His heart soared as she called him her mate for the first time.

  “I love you too, mate.”

  Epilogue

  Nigel crouched before Taylor’s grave, talking to his brother. It had been too long since his last visit, but life had become so full it was hard to find the time. He placed the framed picture he held on the grave, propping it against the headstone. The picture showed a happy family—himself, his mate, and their beautiful baby daughter. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he continued speaking to his brother.

  “I’m doing it, Taylor. I am changing things, changing the pack for the better. Because of Claire, and because of you.” He chuckled aloud. “Of course, some of the Elders threw fits for a while.” He shook his head ruefully. “Okay, maybe for more than a while. But our Claire took care of that neatly enough. By the time she was done bribing them with apple muffins and sweet talk, they were too fat and happy to protest much more.”

  He smiled, thinking of the conversation he’d had with his father just that morning.

  “There’s still a long way for us to go, brother, but we’ll get there.”

  From behind him the sweet sound of his daughter’s cooing “wake up” noises caused his smile to bloom.

  “I’m sorry, brother. Sorry for being blind to your needs, sorry for running off like the coward I was and leaving you to look after my woman. But I promise you, I will spend my life making sure no one ever has to go through what you did. Not as long as I am alpha.”

  He stepped back from Taylor’s grave, his heart full and his head clear.

  He turned and walked over to Claire, who was holding their daughter. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his baby girl’s wispy hair, then moved higher to kiss his mate.

  She leaned into him, looking up at him with concern in her eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  He smiled and wrapped his arms around her. In moments like this, holding Claire and their daughter, Nigel knew he held the world. He leaned down and kissed her again.

  “Yeah, luv. I’m very okay.”

  About VJ Summers

  VJ Summers: When not working the EDJfH (Evil Day Job from Hell), obsessing over whether her parents are getting enough to eat, obsessing that her kid is sexting the boyfriend, making coffee, drinking coffee or feeding the two cats who allow her to live with them, VJ can be found reading or writing erotic romance—either solo as m/m author VJ Summers, or as the shorter, more quiet half of the “Violet Summers” writing team (the tall half is Sierra Summers).

  About Sierra Summers

  Sierra Summers lives in the Metro-Detroit area in Michigan. She is a married mother of two wonderful boys and one precious girl. She also cares for two spoiled dogs.

  She still has the first book she ever wrote in first grade, Skeleton Rock, which started off her love for writing and she’s written ever since.The majority of her books take place in Michigan and she’s proud to live so close to Detroit, a city poised on the brink of a comeback. The revitalized downtown and surrounding area provides wonderful inspiration for her writing.

  Finding her writing partner, VJ Summers, was the answer to her lifelong dream. Together the duo had written several books before Sierra also began venturing out on her own.

  VJ and Sierra welcome comments from readers. You can find their websites and email addresses on their author bio pages at www.ellorascave.com.

  Tell Us What You Think

  We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email the authors directly or you can email us at [email protected] (when contacting Customer Service, be sure to state the book title and author).

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  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  The Trouble with Wolves

  ISBN 9781419991547

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  The Trouble with Wolves Copyright © 2014 VJ & Sierra Summers

  Edited by Kelli Collins

  Cover design by Dar Albert

  Cover photography by studioDG, Lonely, konradbak

  Electronic book publication July 2014

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.