Celebrity Wolf Pack (BBW Shifter Paranormal Menage Romance)

Copyright © 2015 Leandra Wild

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, dialogue, and everything else are products of the author's imagination.  Any resemblance to people or events, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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Note: This book was previously called “Packing a Starlet”

Celebrity Wolf Pack

Jess took the back stairs two at a time. Screw the elevator, this cushy Hollywood lifestyle would make everyone fat and helpless. The food, the bodyguards, it was all so over the top it made her want to laugh. All she wanted was to slip back to her hotel room and grab a cold hot dog straight from the package. No cameras, no snobby co-actors, just twenty minutes of solo time to be herself. She raised a hand to push her hair back but stopped halfway remembering the tiny braids and carefully arranged mess. How on earth could it take two hours to make her hair look like she'd been fighting in a jungle? Ten minutes of actual fighting would have done the trick.

     With a deep sigh of relief, Jess swiped her door card and ducked into her room. She surveyed the space. Clothes covered the floor, bed unmade, damp towels still crumpled in the bathroom doorway... exactly as she had left it. Smiling she closed her eyes briefly and let her shoulders droop in relaxation. No paparazzi, no maids stealing her underwear to sell on eBay. Real privacy.

Dropping her cards and cell on the kitchen counter, she unzipped the tight hot pants of her costume and slid her hand inside. Maybe lunch could wait… The morning’s filming had been a steamy love scene and she was wound up beyond belief. Being horny for too long just made her angry at everyone and everything. Jess closed her eyes, letting her fingers find the perfect pattern of --- HONK HONNNK!

Fuck. What now?

Jess groaned audibly as the blaring car horns shattered her mood. She stormed over to the windows and looked down at the tree lined street. Fuck! Her freaking limo was waiting for her already?! She tipped her head back and shouted at the ceiling "Argh! I just got here! Gimmie a fucking break!" She resisted the urge to yank on her hair in frustration, instead she leaned her head against the cool glass of the window. What was the point of hiding in this out of the way hotel if the studio was just going to send a fat-ass limo to pick her up?
Idiots. Well, they can just wait.
She rooted through the mini fridge for her precious hot dogs and can of Mr. Pibb. Wolfing down the hotdog and taking a deep chug of soda she strolled back to the window purposely taking her time. But the honking continued and she tapped her foot in mounting irritation.

     "Fine. Whatever." She put her half-finished soda down on the window sill and turned to leave. She picked up her door card and...hesitated over her buzzing cell phone. Screw it, she thought, as she snatched her hand back. They could make her come back to the set but she didn't have to listen to them whine at her the whole way there. She stomped out the door, slamming it behind her.

     Trudging back down the stairs and fussing with her ridiculously skimpy tank top, Jess tried to put her game face back on. "Jessica" she mentally corrected herself.
Jessica Winters action star extraordinaire.
She didn’t look like the usual Hollywood starlet. Her slightly overweight body on a small frame, stormy looks and cloud of black hair were easy to spot among the throngs of long legged blondes at any given red carpet event. Unfortunately, they’d also given her a reputation for having a bad temper. Which was true – but still a PR nightmare that her agent wanted fixed pronto.

“Think of it as your biggest role. Play the good girl. Or else.”
Ugh.
Being a good girl was exactly what made her temper so bad in the first place. Distracted, Jess opened the limo door and slipped inside.

Landing on the bench seat, she slid over and found herself hip to hip with a large tough looking guy with thick black hair and a long scar running from his ear to down his throat. “Oh shit!” she yelped in surprise. “You scared me… I’m sorry. I thought this was my limo…Ha, that sounds crazy. Excuse me.” She scooted back across the seat reaching for the door handle, but before she could open the door the man with the scar wrapped one heavily muscled arm around her, scooped her up,  and slammed her wide hips down on his lap. Jess squealed and struggled but it seemed to have zero impact on him. The locks clicked and the limo started to roll smoothly out on to the main road.

Jess breathed through a flare of red hot anger. She hated being man handled. All the fame and all the random martial arts training in the world apparently couldn't stop people from just picking her up and placing her where they wanted. She wanted to throw a fit. Bite this asshole's hand, slam out of the car and kick a few massive dents into its polished sides.

Calm. Down. We've got an image to maintain, she told herself. Just think this through... Some desperate screen writer probably came up with this crazy scenario just to get my attention. Damn. It figures. Deep breath. Smile.

Even though she was uncomfortably still being held by the muscle man that had dragged her away from the door, she tried to twist around and bestow him with a warm smile. Then projecting her voice lightly so that the driver felt included, she said; "Okay guys. I want you to know how much I appreciate the creative energy that went into this - you really had my heart thumping there. But unfortunately all scripts have to go through my agent. It's not my choice. It's just how the game is played at this level." Jess winced at how condescending that sounded. "I really have to get back to the studio. We're behind schedule already and make-up is going to kill me for our little doorway tussle back there. You understand, right?" Jess finally managed to get a look at the man pressed against her. He smiled giddily at her.

Oh Christ. He's completely star struck. I might as well be talking to a brick wall.
She closed her eyes and tried to count backwards.
Honey catches more flies. Honey catches more goddamn flies
. "Could you at least please take your hand off my thigh? You do a great sleaze ball character but I'm not going to report you to the actors guild if you take it down a notch." she tried for a conspiratorial wink. But the tough guy’s face was suddenly so filled with sadness he looked like a kicked puppy. Shocked Jess said, "I'm- I'm sorry that was an asinine thing to say. It's great that you guys take your roles so seriously."

He visibly pepped up again but still didn’t say a word. Jess sighed. One of her shoulder straps was slipping down and she felt acutely aware of how much skin her costume was not covering. All she had on was a thin black tank top, camo hot pants, thigh highs and fake army boots with way too much heel. Feeling overheated, she squirmed a bit but her movements just squished her full breasts against his arms.

Come on, Jess try not to give the guy a lap dance
. Her eyes darted briefly to the windows. Heading east. Moving at a good clip, nothing illegal but nothing you'd want to experience in a face first dive out the door.
One driver - too far to reach. One- what? A thug? Russian mafia? Terrorist? Okay. Okay. Let’s not get crazy. Even with the scar, I’m not really buying it.

Jess sighed again and rolled her eyes, faking casual resignation.
Keep talking. Keep it light.
"Fine. Take me to your leader," she said, shrugging. "I can't promise anything will come of it, but I'll read the script. In the meantime, can you do me a little favor? Can either of you lend me your cell? Just so I can let the director know I'll be held up for a while?" She put one hand up to her mouth dramatically and in an obvious stage whisper said "then you'll have his private number too!"

No response.

"Hey, seriously buddy. Watch the hands." The large man carefully repositioned himself, she was still stuck on his lap, but now his hands were on his own elbows. She had no choice but to ride along wrapped in his gentle bear hug.

The afternoon wore on as they continued to drive out past the city limits and into the hills. Highways gave way to one lane roads and then petered out into dirt. Jess should have felt more nervous but she couldn’t quite feel frightened. She was even just a bit bored as she stared out the window watching the scenery flood by. At last she started to feel an odd sense of familiarity. The hills…this particular turned… she was frowning hard by the time they rocked down a slim dirt road and jostled to a halt in front of a sleek modern house.

Two guys, twins or close enough from the look of it, were wrestling playfully and a third man lounged nonchalantly on the front stair. Where the twins were blonde and loud, the man on the stairs was dark and calm. Although he hadn’t moved a muscle his presence drew her attention like a delicious scent on the breeze.

The locks on the limo door opened with a snick. Jess made a bolt for the door handle and almost fell flat on her face since her captor let go of her without a struggle. She scrambled out of the limo and stood on the hot dirt road looking around her in shock.

What the fuck?

“You kidnapped me and drove me hours out of town to take me to my own damn house?” Momentarily at a loss for words she glared at the limo driver and the man with a scar as they stepped out of the car into the driveway. “Who the hell do you think – you know what? I don’t even care.” 

With that, she steamed forward pushing past the twins who had frozen mid headlock to watch her. She stepped over the long legs of the darkly handsome man sunning himself on the porch stairs. Punching her code in to the keypad at the front door, she walked in and slammed the door behind her. She leaned back against the closed door.
Now where the hell is the land line in this place?
Jess had had the house built last year but barely ever got time off to spend in it.

Outside she could hear a mellow command: “Rusty. Dustin. Knock it off for a minute”. Dark and handsome was right on the other side of the door, she could almost feel his powerful pull straight though the wood. He spoke to her through the door. “It’s my house. I just needed the key code.”