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  She’d had good orgasms before, but this one was different. It wasn’t just focused in that familiar area between her legs nor did it simply flutter outward and make her heart beat faster. This one enveloped her completely, lightning and tingles rippling out to make even her whole body throb in time with the pulsing between her legs. Even her teeth felt like they were on fire, and when her teeth clamped down on her lip to attempt to silence the worst of her screams, she was sure she bit the crap out of herself.

  When Max pulled his mouth away, she murmured a complaint, but it was a halfhearted one since the spasms were still tearing through her body, even though he was no longer touching her. Now that was the sign of a great orgasm—it kept going even after the sex was over.

  But the sex wasn’t over—something Lana figured out when Max flipped her over on her hands and knees like she was some kind of rag-doll sex toy.

  Actually, rag-doll sex toy sounded pretty damn good.

  Lana snuck a few fingers down to help keep the orgasm tremors going as she looked over her shoulder and caught sight of Max’s clothes flying off him. Superman in a phone booth was a snail compared to him. He tore his shirt off so fast he ripped it in two.

  Oh yeah, he was as hunky as her earlier manual explorations had suggested. Strong shoulders, a chest and arms that showed why he’d been able to carry her effortlessly, ripped abs with those V-shaped hip flexors that disappeared into his jeans in a blatant invitation to look down and see what else he had to offer.

  She was just admiring the wolf head tattoo with the word SWAT above it on his pec when he stripped off his jeans, displaying legs so muscular and tasty looking she had a scary strong desire to roll off the bed and sink her teeth into them. When had she’d gotten so oral? She’d always been a fan of it, but not the biting part. Max was bringing out a side of her she’d never had a chance to explore.

  Then Lana got a good look at the hard shaft jutting emphatically from between his legs, and oral sex took on a whole new meaning. She needed him. In her mouth. Now.

  But as she was about to leap at him, Max pulled a condom from a box in the nightstand and turned back for the bed. He let out a low growl when he saw she’d moved from the position he’d left her and very quickly demonstrated he had no problem spinning her right back around.

  Head down, butt up. Go, caveman!

  She had no idea how he was able to get the condom on while at the same time putting her exactly where he wanted. But thankfully, he had this particular style of multitasking down pat, and it couldn’t have been more than a second or two before he was lining himself up with her very ready opening and sliding his thick cock inside her.

  Lana moaned, burying her face into those soft, earth-toned blankets and giving herself over to the sensation of being filled up. His big hands came down and got a firm hold on her hips, and then the real pleasure started as he pulled almost all the way out and immediately slid back in.

  “Yes!” she breathed, only slightly surprised when the sound came out more growl than moan. Max was definitely bringing out the animal in her.

  She tried to look over her shoulder, wanting to watch Max as he took her this way, wanting to see his gorgeous face and know she was making him feel just as good as he was making her feel. But turning around to watch became impossible as Max gripped her hips hard and began to pound into her. The feel of his hard cock burying itself deep inside her over and over, his hips slapping against her ass rhythmically with every thrust, his hands taking control of her waist and moving her at an urgent, mind-blowing pace was all too much for her. She had no control over her body—certainly not enough to be able to look back at him. It was all she could do to not turn into a puddle of Jell-O right there on the bed.

  Instead, she buried her face and fingernails into the blanket and held on for dear life as Max made her feel things she’d only dreamed of. She knew she was making a lot of noise, but she couldn’t stop herself. It felt too amazing.

  At some point, she bit down on the blanket. Of course she was. It was all part of her new biting obsession apparently. But even as good as it felt to sink her teeth deep into the soft material, almost slicing right through it, Lana instinctively knew she would have preferred to have something else in her mouth.

  The image of sinking her teeth into Max’s strong shoulder muscles hit her at the same moment he slammed into her so deep stars exploded in her head.

  She came.

  It wasn’t one of those tame, playful orgasms she’d experienced dozens of times before. It wasn’t even one of those rare, powerful moments of pleasure she’d been lucky enough to have when everything—man, position, speed, size, ambience—had all come together just right. No, this was something completely different. An orgasm so overwhelming Lana was sure she’d fly apart into a million pieces. It started deep inside her, right where Max was thrusting, then spread out until it consumed her.

  She screamed, moaned, growled, and clawed at the bed like a crazy animal.

  In a way that didn’t make a lot of sense, she knew when Max came. She just felt it inside her. Not quite in the same place where her orgasm had started, but close. He wasn’t coming inside her because he was wearing a condom, but he was coming with her and that felt equally amazing.

  When the waves of pleasure receded, Lana found herself lying on her stomach, Max’s heavy weight smooshing her comfortably into the bed. His face was in the crook of her neck and shoulder, his teeth gently grazing her skin. It was even possible he may have bitten her, but she couldn’t find it in her to care. She was too busy thinking about the way he was still wedged firmly inside her, making her spasm and clench in the most delightful way possible. Okay, that was frigging awesome.

  Max must have thought he was putting too much weight on her, because his mouth came away from her neck and she felt him start to lift up. She reached back and got her fingers in his hair, tugging him back.

  “Don’t you dare move,” she whispered. “I want you right there for the rest of the night.”

  “I’m not too heavy for you?” Max asked, his breath in her ear as he settled back down on top of her.

  “Never,” she said.

  She was serious. She was more than ready to stay like this the rest of the night. This was perfect. In the very core of her being, she knew that. This man, in this moment? It was exactly where she was supposed to be.

  But then a thought struck her, making her turn her head a little and look at him. “Do you mind if I stay? I know you have to get up early for work tomorrow.”

  He chuckled. “Of course I want you to stay. Tomorrow will take care of itself. Right now, all I want to think about is you, here, lost in my arms.”

  “Nice answer,” she murmured.

  But as good as it felt to have Max on her this way, at some point he had to hop off to clean up. The absence of his body heat left her felling cold and she climbed under the blankets as he disappeared into the bathroom.

  “You sure you don’t mind me spending the night?” she called out. “I’m worried you won’t be able to get any rest if I’m here.”

  Max flipped off the light in the hallway, standing in the bedroom doorway looking gloriously yummy and hard.

  “Who the heck said anything about getting any rest tonight?” he whispered as he turned off the light in the bedroom, then stopped at the night table for another condom. “The only way either one of us will be getting any sleep tonight is if we pass out from exhaustion.”

  She laughed and pulled back the blanket, making room for him. “Well, I’m not worried about that myself. Like I told you, I can stay awake for days if I really need to cram.”

  “I guess we’ll see about that,” Max said as he pulled her on top of him.

  She shivered as his hard-on brushed her leg. She couldn’t believe she was ready to go again, but she was. Now this was the kind of all-nighter she could enjoy.

 
Max’s eyes caught the glow of the streetlamp coming in through the window, reflecting it back with a yellow flash in the coolest way ever. Seemed like he was stoked at the idea of an all-nighter, too.

  Chapter 7

  “Damn, Max. Where the hell is your head right now?” Xander growled at him. “Something tells me you completely missed the point of this particular exercise.”

  Max knelt in the sand-filled pit at the SWAT compound, breathing hard as sweat mixed with the dirt and paintball spats along his bare chest to create little trails of messy color down his body. While he certainly hadn’t been the first one to cross the finish line, he’d hadn’t been that far back in the crowd—definitely not enough to gain him this kind of ire from his squad leader.

  This morning’s physical training exercise was called Rescue, and it was simple. The goal was for select members of the Pack to race through the compound’s obstacle course and retrieve their “rescue victim” from one of the training buildings at the far end of the course. Next, they were supposed to get their victims back through the obstacles and deliver them safe and sound at the finish line marked by the sandpit. The body dummies being used as the victims were heavy, but for the most part, it was a piece of cake.

  Of course, since Cooper had come up with this exercise, there was one small detail that made it harder. Xander and the other squad leader, Mike Taylor, were positioned along the course with paintball guns. If you got hit with a paintball, it wasn’t a big deal, but if your victim took a round instead, that meant you had to go back to the start of the course and do it again. Oh, and there was also the thing that said each werewolf could do anything within the rules to ensure that no one finished in front of them. Of course, there weren’t any rules.

  He’d seen several pack mates take a tumble off the course as their teammates tripped them or threw things at them. He’d even caught sight of Brooks nailing Becker in the back of his head with his body dummy and pitching the other werewolf off a twenty-foot-high tower.

  Max had to admit he’d been somewhat distracted while running the course. He’d spent the night making love to his soul mate, after all. But he’d still been the fourth werewolf across the finish line, behind Brooks, Cooper, and Khaki. Becker would probably have won since he was too fast to catch in most games, which was why Brooks had beaned him with the dummy. They might have to get an official ruling on the legality of throwing your own victim. Cooper said there weren’t any rules, but it didn’t make sense to use the people you were trying to rescue as a weapon.

  Regardless, Max had done well, considering the rest of their teammates were out on the course, and he was sure his victim had never gotten hit with a paintball.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked Xander.

  Xander pointed at the body dummy Max had used. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

  Max looked down, wondering if maybe he’d missed a paint splat on some part of the dummy he hadn’t noticed and saw that the dummy’s head was missing. Huh. How had that happened?

  “You didn’t notice your victim’s head getting caught in the lines on the rope bridge?” Xander demanded. “Or feel that slight bite of resistance as the head got ripped off?”

  All Max could do was shrug. “I guess I’m a bit distracted.”

  Xander shook his head. “I don’t have to ask what that distraction might be since we can smell your new soul mate all over you. Congratulations.”

  Max tried to look properly chagrined but failed. “Do you want me to run through the course again?”

  “With a headless dummy? Why bother?” Xander quipped. “Hit the benches with Khaki, Cooper, and Brooks.”

  Max left his headless dummy where it was, hoping Gage didn’t make him pay for it, and followed his teammates over to the benches by the volleyball course to watch the rest of the PT session. Kari and Grace were sitting there, watching as the SWAT alphas ran around with their shirts off getting all sweaty and dirty. The two betas didn’t seem to mind the sweat—or the dirt.

  “Where’s your son?” Khaki asked Grace as she sat beside the woman.

  The younger of the two beta werewolves smiled. “On his way to school. He’s not thrilled about going, but I think it’s important for him to get some structure now that we’re settled. Of course, that means I now have nothing to do all morning but sit out here and watch muscular men run around and glisten.”

  Khaki laughed. “You guys want to take part in the PT session? I’m sure Mike and Xander would happily show you how to shoot a paintball gun.”

  The two women exchanged looks.

  “You don’t think your alphas would mind getting shot at by two betas?” Kari asked, clearly tempted.

  “Nah,” Cooper said. “But if you’re worried about it, you could always promise to wipe off any paint splats you manage to land.”

  The two women looked at each other again.

  “I’m in!” they both said at the same time, hopping off the benches.

  “Maybe the guy with the British accent will let me help him clean up even if I don’t hit him,” Grace said as they headed for the SWAT squad leaders. “I’m sure I can get to all those hard-to-reach places for him.”

  Kari laughed, even though Max didn’t think the younger beta was kidding.

  While Cooper, Khaki, and Brooks watched the rest of the PT session, Max leaned back and zoned out, lost in thought about Lana and the Wallace kids.

  He’d driven past the house on Park Lane this morning, even though he knew he was supposed to stay away. But that was hard to do. Fortunately, he hadn’t heard anything coming from inside that made him think there was a problem, but then again, it had only been five thirty in the morning. He’d take a victory where he could get it, he guessed.

  He yawned. He was tired, but it was a good tired—the kind that comes from a long night of awesome sex. It had been better than amazing, and if he had any lingering doubts Lana was The One for him, they were gone now. He was sure Lana felt the same way. After everything they’d talked about and the way she’d responded last night, Max couldn’t deny the obvious. Lana wasn’t simply hiding her nature. She really didn’t know she was a werewolf.

  Max hadn’t had the chance to talk to Gage about it yet, but since only a traumatic event could flip the gene that turned a person into a werewolf, he was sure the car wreck Lana had been in was the event that had both changed her and stunted her development as a werewolf at the same time. He’d never heard of a werewolf going into a coma for as long as she had, and his mind whirled at the possibilities. Did she only partially turn because she’d been sixteen years old at the time, or had the drugs they’d given her after the accident somehow inhibited her initial transformation, allowing her to survive the wreck that had killed her friends but preventing her from healing herself as fast as other werewolves did?

  “I’m heading in to shower before everyone else gets finished,” Khaki announced, interrupting his daydreams as she stood and headed for the admin building.

  “I think she did that so you could talk freely,” Cooper said, glancing at Max. “Khaki’s nice that way.”

  He must have missed a vital part of the conversation. “Talk freely about what?”

  Cooper and Brooks looked at him like he was a moron.

  “Lana, of course,” Cooper said. “It’s obvious she has your head spinning. Even if you hadn’t ripped that dummy’s head off, Xander would probably have put you on the bench just to keep you from walking yourself off the top of one of the bigger obstacles out there on the course.”

  Max opened his mouth to complain, but Brooks interrupted him. “And we know it’s not only Lana that has you tied up in knots. That stuff with the Wallace kids is messing you up, too. Look me in the face and tell me you haven’t driven by there at least once or twice in the last twenty-four hours.”

  Max didn’t bother to deny either accusation. “Okay, so yeah, bot
h those things are on my mind right now. It doesn’t mean I can’t do my job.”

  “We never said differently.” Brooks frowned. “It’s just that you’re distracted. It’s understandable. Finding The One for you is reason enough to be more than a little preoccupied.”

  Cooper snorted. “When I met Everly, it was like my head turned to mush. I can’t even count the number of bad decisions I made. So if being with Lana has you spinning right now, don’t feel bad. You’re in good company.”

  “Lana and I are doing great,” Max admitted. “I mean, there’s hardly any stress at all. Sure, there’s the thing with her not knowing she’s a werewolf, but that’s not too bad. And then there’s my control issues.”

  “What control issues?” Brooks asked. “You talking about something beyond occasionally flashing your fangs and claws?”

  Max looked around, hoping the rest of the Pack was too intent on their game to hear any of this. “To tell the truth, my control has gotten worse since getting involved with Lana—and this domestic violence case. First, I just about choked Wallace to death. Then, I almost shifted in front of Lana last night when we were making love.”

  “Choking Wallace I get,” Cooper said. “What do you mean, you almost shifted in front of Lana?”

  Max shrugged. “Just that. I went full-on fangs and claws as we were getting busy. We had to do it doggy style just so she wouldn’t see—not that doggy style with Lana isn’t spectacular, but still.”

  Cooper made a face. “Okay, that’s a bit of visual imagery I could definitely have done without.”

  Brooks chuckled. “Where do you think this sudden lack of control is coming from? Is it simply the fact that Lana is The One for you or because she’s a werewolf, too, and that’s ramping up the pheromones? Then again, maybe it’s related to your own history with domestic violence. Could all this stuff with the Wallace kids have brought some deep-seated issues bubbling back to the surface?”