Melindas Wolves (19 page)

“Got it.” The man turned and jogged away. The poor guy was human. It was a wonder he didn’t piss his pants.

Keegan half wished he hadn’t been so hard on the guy, but this was his job.

Glorified construction babysitter.

Keegan caught Braden when they were only partway around the left side of the building and told him what happened.

“I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.” Braden’s expression was serious, his brow furrowed, his lips in a firm line as he headed toward the crane. As foreman, it was his responsibility to make sure the site was safe. It would not look good if Keegan had to cite him or any of his men.

He and Mitch continued forward. They managed to finish nearly the entire rest of the tour unscathed. Even though the list of infractions on site grew by the second, very few sections of the structure appeared to pose any imminent danger.

Just as the two of them were headed back to the trailer, Keegan stumbled. As if in slow motion, he seemed to watch himself fall forward, putting out his hands to break his fall.

As if that weren’t bad enough, his palm landed on a pile of nails, one of them gouging into his skin. “Son of a bitch.”

Mitch jumped forward. “Jesus, Keegan. What happened?”

Keegan pulled to his feet and twisted around to see what had caught his shoe. He glanced around, spotting nothing. He even blinked. He wasn’t a clumsy man. In fact, nothing like that had ever happened to him before. But the truth was, the item he would have sworn had been sticking several inches out of the concrete wasn’t there.

Mitch grabbed his hand. “You’re bleeding.”

Keegan looked down, registering the stinging burn for the first time. “Fuck.” He squeezed his bloody palm with the other hand and held the cut under pressure. “Might need a Band-Aid.” He chuckled.

What he really needed—and Mitch knew all too well—was a quiet place to shift and let his hand heal on its own. It would be so much faster than modern human medicine. But days like this happened occasionally, and the only way Keegan could keep his cover as a lupine under wraps would be to accept a variety of human intervention and pretend whatever issues he had weren’t severe enough to need attention.

It was always difficult to rationalize to other people the next day why a gash that bled like this current one was nearly gone in the morning.

Mitch followed him back to his office, the two of them picking up the pace as they went. Mitch chuckled. “You need more sleep, man. And you need to get laid. You’re distracted. That mate of yours is making your brain foggy.”

Keegan rolled his eyes as he turned to face Mitch when they reached the door to the trailer. “Thanks for the advice, but I don’t think my lack of sleep caused a crane to mistakenly drop a board almost on our heads.”

“Of course, but what about mysterious elevated objects that randomly pop up to trip you?” Mitch jumped back as he finished the sentence, still smiling broadly.

Under normal circumstances, Keegan would have read Mitch the riot act for his unnecessary goading. But when Mitch lifted both hands in surrender and backed up farther, Keegan decided to let it go for now. After all, his hand hurt like a motherfucker.

And in addition, his mate was currently waiting inside the construction office.

The last thing he needed was to continue the banter with Mitch while dealing with God-knew-what sort of reaction Melinda would have to his injury.

“I’m out of here,” Mitch declared. “I’ll be back tomorrow. We’ve got our work cut out for us at this site.”

That was the truth.

Melinda jumped from her uncomfortable seat in Keegan’s office as the door opened. The first thing she smelled was blood. The second thing was her mate, distress wafting off him in waves. “What happened to your hand?” she asked as he shut the door.

“It’s nothing. I just need a Band-Aid.”

Melinda watched him as he stepped behind the desk and released his palm to reach under the desk for something. A second later, he set a first-aid kit on the metal surface and worked it open with one hand.

“A Band-Aid?” she questioned, hoping he was kidding. The cut on his palm would require significantly more attention than that. “Uh, Keegan?” Was he serious?

He was grinning when she lifted her gaze to his, the first time she’d seen him less than stiff and aggravated since they’d arrived. “Yeah, it might be worse than that, but it’ll do for now.”

The unspoken words “until I can shift” hung in the air.

“Well, are you done here? Can you leave for the day?”

“Yep.”

She watched as Keegan cleaned the cut and indeed grabbed a Band-Aid from the first-aid kit. The amount of blood had been deceiving. The cut wasn’t long—it was deep. In actuality, now that he’d washed it off with wipes, it was less noticeable.

“There. I don’t think it will even require a shift.” He put the kit back under his desk.

“Shall we go?”

Melinda followed Keegan to his truck and blew out a breath as she settled into the seat. The infuriating man had rattled her the entire day. The stress of meeting his co-workers, being anywhere near this dreaded casino construction, and facing the daunting vibes coming from the entire surroundings was enough.

When she added Keegan’s intensity, his ability to make her panties wet and keep them that way—not to mention bring her close to orgasm and leave her needy—it was amazing she could still think.

Of course, it didn’t take much effort for him to get her horny. She was beyond aroused all the time even without his attention. Just his presence, or hell the thought of him, made her pussy spasm.

“You okay, baby?”
Trace communicated as they drove back to Keegan’s house.

“Hmm. Define ‘okay.’”

Trace chuckled into her head.

“Where are you?”
she asked.

“Keegan’s. How far away are you?”

Keegan answered this, having been included in the last question.
“Ten minutes.”

“I have dinner.”

“Bless you,”
Keegan said.

“You cook?”
Melinda asked.

Trace laughed into her head again.
“Occasionally, but not this time. I brought Chinese.

A variety. I assumed there would be something you like.”

“Love it.”
She kept her gaze focused outside the window, her body as close to the door as possible. If she got anywhere near Keegan, she would be challenged to force him to pull over. If he didn’t comply with her needs, she would be mortified.

After the way he handled her all day, she didn’t trust him to let her lead. He was very dominant. She wasn’t sure she would ever have the upper hand with him—at least not sexually. Mentally, she might take him on daily. Sexually, he ruled like a true wolf.

And she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that yet.

On the one hand, she wasn’t the type of person to let anyone walk all over her. She liked control in her life. It compensated for the lack of control she had over her visions.

On the other hand, it made that tight ball in the pit of her stomach clench every time Keegan got domineering.

She squeezed her legs together at the memory of him thrusting his fingers into her against his desk. She squeezed her eyes closed and bit her lower lip to keep from moaning. She knew she sat there still as a statue and so stiff her body was going to ache.

“Melinda.” His voice was both playful and demanding.

She couldn’t resist the pull and turned her head to face him.

He glanced at her. “I don’t know who you’re trying to fool, me or you, but I can smell your need from here. Smashing yourself against the door isn’t keeping me from wanting you, nor is it masking your arousal.”

She was aware of that. Why did he need to point it out?

“Just drive.” She turned back to face the window. Her heart pounded. Her palms were sweating. She wiped them on the skirt of her dress and then opened the window a few inches to get some air that wasn’t contaminated with Keegan.

She’d heard tales about mating her entire life. It was part of being a shifter.

Everyone who was mated had more than enough to say to warn those who were not.

Absolutely nothing prepared her for this onslaught of cravings. There was no way anyone could have described the all-encompassing drive to mate over and over again.

The world around her was fuzzy since all her concentration focused on Keegan and Trace and being with them again. She couldn’t really see anything. Mostly she just didn’t care about anything else.

Her mind had only one thought. Fucking her men again. And then again.

And the worst part was she grew increasingly aware that mating with them again wasn’t going to take the edge off but instead the opposite. The desire would only escalate.

When would the frenzy end?

Keegan finally pulled up the driveway. He jumped down from the cab and rounded it so fast, she never had a chance to get out. He liked it that way. It was perfectly clear. Repeatedly.

And the concept of being lifted from the truck was growing on her. It got his hands on her waist, his face near hers. His scent filled her nostrils as he lowered her to the ground against the side of the truck. He didn’t even flinch as he gripped her as though the wound on his hand was of no concern to him whatsoever.

She had expected them to race into the house, but instead Keegan’s lips descended on her. His mouth devoured her so fast her vision swam.

The kiss intensified with each passing moment until she no longer remembered where they were, or cared. All she knew was her need, the way her pussy leaked, the tightening of her nipples as they rubbed against her bra.

Another scent infiltrated her lust from her left side as the door shut. Trace. His hand landed on her shoulder. “Come inside. I know the houses aren’t very close together in this neighborhood, but you’re about to put on an impressive show for anyone that drives by.”

Keegan’s lips broke free. He gasped for air against her face. “You slay me, woman.”

He hoisted her up by the waist again. “Wrap your legs around me.”

She obeyed his directive, grasping him with her ankles at his back, her arms around his neck. He strode to the house and through the open front door quickly. Trace came from the rear, shutting the door and sandwiching her from behind immediately.

The smell of Chinese food filled her nostrils. She was hungry, but it would have to wait.

His lips landed on her neck as he pushed her hair aside. “God, I missed you.”

She leaned back into his chest, letting him absorb her weight, her legs tight around Keegan. She released Keegan’s neck and lifted her arms over her head to wrap them around Trace’s neck, nestling her head on his shoulder and turning her face to kiss him from the side.

She needed more. Too many clothes. Too many impediments.

Dropping her legs, she let herself slide to the floor between her men.

They each stepped closer, pinning her.

Trace set his hands on her biceps, keeping her arms above her head where she still stroked his neck.

Keegan grabbed for the hem of her dress and slowly lifted it over her body. When he reached her head, he tugged it off.

“What happened to your hand?” Trace asked.

“Slight accident,” Keegan muttered, his hands back on Melinda’s hips. “It’ll heal.”

Trace chuckled. “I haven’t known you to have accidents in the past. Did you get a little distracted?” Trace shifted his gaze to Melinda as if she had been the cause of Keegan’s clumsiness.

“Don’t look at me. I wasn’t there. He’s been a little evasive about what happened.”

She cocked her head to take in Trace’s expression.

Keegan rolled his eyes as she glanced at him, his hands sliding up her sides to cup her breasts. “Can we discuss this later? I may not have been distracted by this little imp at the time, but I am now.” He punctuated the end of his sentence with a pinch to her nipples.

Melinda lifted onto her toes and sucked in a sharp breath. Just that fast, he had her melting.

Her hands settled back on Trace’s neck, his grip returning to just above her armpits.

He kissed her biceps on one side. “Did she smell this fantastic all day?”

“Yes.” Keegan kneeled in front of her now. He lowered her panties, tapping her legs to get her to step out of them. “It was maddening.”

She kicked off her shoes.

Trace’s hands eased down until he cupped her breasts.

The fire in her belly flamed higher, making it difficult to think or stand.

“You got her?” Keegan asked.

Trace wrapped one arm under her breasts and held her firmly. “Yep.”

Keegan lifted her legs and set them over his shoulders.

She screamed when his mouth landed on her pussy, and he immediately sucked her into his warmth. Her orgasm shot through her instantly with no warning. After an entire day on the edge of sanity, it was no surprise.

She convulsed against his face, gripping Trace’s neck so hard it had to hurt.

Keegan didn’t let up. He plunged his tongue into her channel and then sucked her clit between his lips, switching from one to the other over and over until the flames grew higher again. This ability to come on the heels of an orgasm that wasn’t even complete was mind boggling.

Insanity.

Consuming need.

“Come again, baby,” Trace whispered near her ear as he tugged the cup of her bra down, letting one swollen breast pop out. The second the air hit her pebbled nipple, she bucked into Keegan’s face.

The second orgasm was stronger than the first, spreading up her arms and down her legs, the vibrations from her clit taking over her body.

Still, it wasn’t enough. She craved more. She needed the completion only mating with these two would give her.

The relief would only be temporary, but the desperation to achieve it was unstoppable. “I need you both. Now. God. Keegan. Please.” Her voice was louder, urgent. She hoped her demands would be met with cocks instead of reprimands about her trying to control the situation.

Didn’t they need to be inside her as much as she needed them to enter?

Trace lifted her off Keegan’s shoulder and cradled her against his chest. He padded to the bedroom, his gaze holding hers. “You’re so fucking sexy when you come.