The Mane Squeeze (35 page)

Dee-Ann leaned down a bit to get a better look at her. “You want me to handle Lock for ya, darlin’?”

Gwen didn’t even know why the She-wolf was asking that. “No.” She handed over the scissors. “But you deal with the wolves.”

Gwen moved up behind Lock. He was crouching on the wolf’s back, one claw dug into what was left of the back of the wolf’s skull, the other pawing his exposed and torn flesh. He was breathing hard, the air pounding out of him as he fought not to shift and finish the job. She could see his muscles rippling as he fought the change, fought that last step that would turn this into a moment of regret for him. He had too many of those, she knew. She wouldn’t let these McNelly fuckers hang him up with any more.

She pressed against his back, let him feel her weight on him before she pressed her mouth to his ear. “Let him go, Lock.”

His muscles rippled again, she felt them moving against her own. She kissed his ear, nuzzled the side of his head. “I just want you to take me home. Keep me safe.”

Slowly, the bear stood, stepping off the battered mass beneath him. One blood-covered hand reached out for her, claws still unleashed—and Gwen took it, gripped it tight. He pulled her into his side, his arm tight around her.

“Gwenie? Maybe you should—”

At the sound of Mitch’s worried voice, her big brother still trying to protect her, Lock’s head snapped around, his gaze latching on to the crowd of concerned shifters blocking the doorway. He roared and Mitch shoved Bren forward. “Take him!”

“You
bastard!
” Bren shouted at his brother.

Lock roared again and everyone took off running, bolting up the hallway and back to the club. Once they were gone, Lock’s arms went tight around Gwen and he lifted her up, lumbering out after the retreating shifters and carrying her home.

L
ock snapped awake and found himself naked in bed. Normally nothing to get worried over except he had no idea how he got there.

“You’re awake. Good.”

He looked over at the doorway and Gwen stood there wearing one of his T-shirts, her arms crossed over her chest.

Sitting up slowly, he studied her close until he nearly begged, “Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

“But I scared you?”

“No.”

“Not even a little?”

Gwen shook her head. “No.”

“Oh.”

“You did terrify everyone else, though.”

Lock’s shoulders dropped a bit but he couldn’t help it. “Oh.”

“Do you even remember what happened?”

Sort of. Or maybe not. It was all a jumble right now, which only meant he’d really lost it. Boar-rage lost it.

“I don’t—” Lock shrugged. “Bits and pieces.”

“Well, no one’s dead. If that’s got you worried.”

It did, and he let out a relieved breath.

“Although at least one will need massive reconstructive surgery.”

Shit
.

“Lock—”

“It’s all right.” He stretched his shoulders out, the flesh between his blades sore, which meant his grizzly hump had grown while he was still human. Rare and
not
good. “Really. It’s all right. And I can understand if you’re not comfortable staying here tonight.” He looked up at her. “Or if you want some space or…if you…if you…why are you getting naked?”

Not that he minded, but still. Shouldn’t she be trying to ease her way out the door or keeping a healthy distance between them instead of pulling off the T-shirt and crawling onto the bed?

“Why am I getting naked? Did you really just ask me that?”

“I did, but only because—” Lock closed his eyes, his entire body trembling as Gwen’s skin brushed against his own. So much soft skin on such a lethal feline was making him crazy. He swallowed and tried again. “I’d understand if you feel…uh…”
Oh, God. She’s purring
. “A little scared about what happened earlier.”

“I don’t feel scared. I’m actually kind of turned on.” She licked his ear with the tip of her tongue. “Does that make me a kinky girl?”

“No, no. Of course not. It’s just—” His eyes crossed as she dragged her nails across the mass of sore and ultrasensitive muscles between his shoulder blades.

“It’s just what, Lock?” she purred into his ear. “Because if there’s one thing we both know, baby, is that the one person who was safe in that room was me. I know you’ll never hurt me. I know you’ll always protect me. And I know I’ll never stop loving you.”

Did she know that was all he needed to hear? All he needed to
know?

Wanting to show her, he turned fast, his hands digging into Gwen’s hair and tilting her head back before he ruthlessly took her mouth with his own.

No one’s hands had ever felt so good on her before. The way Lock stroked her, petted her, his hands gentle but firm.

She hadn’t been lying when she told him she knew she’d never been safer. Everyone else was at risk from Lock’s vicious boar-rage, but not Gwen, not his friends, not his family. He’d, in fact, been protecting her more than himself. It was the danger she was in that had sent him into battle mode.
Her
grizzly had felt the need to protect its mate.

Not smother her,
protect
her. There was a difference between those two things that a lot of guys never understood. Mitch sure didn’t, which was why he had to find a female who fought him every step of the way. But Gwen had found Lock, who was there when she needed him to be, and backed off when she didn’t.

At the moment, though, he needed
her
. The mighty bear might be comfortable with his power, but he wasn’t comfortable losing control. Unlike most shifters, he got no enjoyment out of hurting others, and she could tell he’d never dismiss anyone or anything as merely “collateral damage.”

How Gwen O’Neill found a man of integrity, she’d never know, but she would be eternally grateful.

Gwen pulled out of their kiss, her hands brushing Lock’s shoulders, his chest. She made sure to involve her nails because, as much as he may complain about them, she could tell they drove him crazy in other ways.

“Lay back,” she said, her hands flat against his shoulders. He did and Gwen slowly ran her nails down his chest, across his stomach, lingering over the tight abdominal muscles. He moaned and moved restlessly on the bed. She smiled at his reaction, enjoying his response to her touch.

She dragged her hands down his thighs, always amazed not merely at the size of them, but at the strength. Everything about his body illustrated pure, unadulterated power waiting to be unleashed. Yet it was that constantly analyzing, rational brain that turned him into straight catnip for Gwen.

Taking the tip of her forefinger, she dragged her nail along the length of his cock. Hard and long, it jerked at her touch while Lock’s hands dug into the bedding beneath him. It already stood up straight, the thick head weeping fluid. Like the cat she was, Gwen took a quick swipe of it with her tongue. His reaction was so strong, the heavy bed frame moved beneath them, and Gwen decided a little cleaning was in order. The feline in her did like things tidy.

She started at the tip and worked her way down, alternating between short and quick licks to long, drawn-out ones that went from base to tip. She lost track of time as she focused all her attention on Lock. He groaned her name and she could smell his sweat as he fought his desire to grab her and fuck the hell out of her. She admired his restraint and yet had no problem using it against him while they were in bed. What could she say? She enjoyed making him crazy, bringing out the grizzly inside.

By the time she took his cock in her mouth, relaxing her throat muscles so she could swallow the entire length of him, his claws were out, and he’d moved from groaning to a guttural grunting that should have made her nervous but didn’t.

Already on the edge, Lock barely lasted for another two minutes before he came, his initial roar of release ending on a steady hum.

Gwen sat up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and staring at the humming male stretched out beside her. He had his face turned away, but his entire body was relaxed.

Still, she had to ask. “What is with the humming?”

Although she could only see part of his face, she did see the way the corner of his mouth curled into a smile even as his eyes stayed closed.

“Contentment, Gwen,” he said softly before he turned his head and opened his eyes to gaze at her. “It means contentment.”

She looked down at her hands, seemingly uncomfortable with his answer. He didn’t know why. A bear couldn’t pay a higher compliment. Contentment, like pure gold, was not easy to come by in this world.

Lock reached for her, taking her hand and tugging her close until he could slide his fingers into her hair, bringing her head down for a kiss. He tasted himself on her lips and in her mouth and he grew hard again knowing she’d taken all of him without backing off. Of course, Gwen never backed off. She might skirt around, climb over, or circle in, but she never backed off until she got what she wanted.

As they kissed, Lock used his free hand and slid it between her thighs. He needed to be inside her, but he didn’t want to take her too soon. Yet his fingers glided inside her pussy and he could feel how wet and ready she was for him. Touching him, sucking him had turned her on, and his fingers inside her had her writhing on his hand.

He pulled away, and Gwen mewled, her brows drawing down. But he wasn’t nearly done with her.

Pushing her back, Lock dragged himself up. She began to lie down, and he grunted at her, pulling her back up and moving her around until she was on all fours and facing away from him. He grabbed a condom and put it on before settling in behind her. He braced his arms in front of her, his forearms pressing into her shoulders to hold her in place as he positioned his hips behind her. With one hard thrust, he entered her, grunting hard as all that wet heat wrapped around his cock, her muscles flexing as she worked to take all of him in.

“Link your hands with mine,” he whispered against her neck.

Gwen nodded and wrapped her arms around his forearms, her hands clutching his, their fingers interlacing.

“I love you, Gwenie,” he said before he took her in long, hard strokes.

He wasn’t gentle with her, his arms keeping her trapped where she was while he fucked her with everything he had in him. But Gwen didn’t seem to mind. Her head rubbed against his arm while she begged him to go “harder, faster” and then “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

He wouldn’t. Even when they were too old to bother anymore, he’d still never stop showing her how much he loved her, needed her, wanted her in his life.

Claws dug into his arm and Lock nuzzled the back of her neck, dragging his mouth along her skin. It rippled where he touched her and she met each of his thrusts with her own, her breath choking as she cried out. Her muscles tightened around him so much, nothing could have stopped him from coming, his body shuddering around hers.

Lock caught her in his arms and turned on his side as he crashed to the bed. They stayed like that for long minutes, too tired to move.

“At some point,” Gwen told him, her voice sounding moments from sleep, “we’re going to have to find a way to get honey in on this because I’m almost positive it’s like your ultimate fantasy, right?”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Mittens,” he laughed, kissing her neck and enjoying that her hair was currently so short he didn’t have to push it out of the way. “We have lots of time, and I have
lots
of honey.”

B
layne would admit she hadn’t had this much fun since she worked the Renaissance Faire one summer. True, the circumstances surrounding this event were despicable, but the aftermath was
way
entertaining!

Of course, it didn’t turn into a free-for-all until Roxy O’Neill snatched that wig off Sharyn McNelly’s head, revealing what Blayne could only call a monk-cut. A look that was not good on a man, much less a woman. And once that wig came off, all bets were off. It probably would have lasted a lot longer if they weren’t in a hospital waiting room. A hospital run by shifters with orderlies who were bears. One bear roar and everyone backed up into their own corners, the O’Neills, Shaws, Kuznetsovs, and Smiths on one side and the McNellys on the other.

Funny thing was, the only ones who needed to be at the hospital were the McNellys. Several of their Pack were down, but two males had suffered the most. One with an arm the doctors didn’t think would ever work right again since it had been completely pulled from its socket and broken in sixteen places. And the other who’d been mauled.

And while the McNellys waited at the hospital to see if Donna McNelly’s boyfriend would even survive that mauling, Roxy O’Neill had found out what happened, gotten to New York in record time with her sisters and brothers in tow, and headed right over to confront Sharyn McNelly. The Shaws, Kuznetsovs, and Smiths showed up soon after.

Normally, Blayne would be trying to calm everyone down, but for once she could sit back and watch. Why? Because of the Van Holtzes! Well…two of them anyway. Ric and his cousin Niles Van Holtz. At the moment, it was down to them and the bear orderlies that kept this whole thing from spiraling out of control. But Blayne was more worried about tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. She couldn’t help herself; it was in her nature to think about the “what ifs.” Like what if Donna McNelly just kept coming for Gwenie and her? What if McNelly never stopped? What if Blayne had to make her stop? And Blayne could make the She-wolf stop—she could make her stop for good.

“There has to be a way we can all resolve this,” Niles Van Holtz said in his low, dreamy voice. Blayne had never been one for older men but yowza! Was the entire Van Holtz Pack this good looking? It was possible if Niles and Ric were only cousins.

“Yeah, there’s a way,” Roxy said simply from her side of the waiting room. “The bitch dies. Right here, right now.”

“Bring it, ya Philly whore!” Sharyn snarled back.

“This isn’t helping,” Niles said over the lion roars of the Shaw brothers.

Munching on Doritos and sipping from her Diet Coke can that she’d purchased from the gift shop, Blayne watched the drama until Ric nudged her with his elbow. She offered him some Doritos and then a sip of her soda. As he handed the can back to her, Roxy held up McNelly’s wig, which she still had a good grip on, and began to shimmy in a circle. Blayne cringed, eternally grateful that Gwen wasn’t here for any of this. She was home safe with her homicidal bear…
wait
. She glanced up, trying to figure out if that was a good thing, when Ric sighed and shook his head. She gave him a little smile and looked away just as Kristan rolled past them, still wearing her Babes uniform. Blayne and Ric watched her roll over to Johnny and hand him his own soda and chips, then Blayne and Ric looked back at each other.

When they both smiled at the same time, Blayne knew things were about to get seriously out of control.

Gwen woke up before her alarm went off. That wasn’t unusual for her, though. What was unusual was to find her mother on the other side of her bed, lifting the bedsheet so she could check out her bear’s naked ass!

“
Ma!
” she roared and Roxy instantly dropped the sheet.

“Morning, baby-girl,” she said while trying to pretend she wasn’t doing what Gwen caught her doing.

Lock’s head lifted from the pillow, his voice urgent. “What? What’s wrong?”

Roxy grinned. “Morning, handsome.”

Lock looked over at Roxy. “Uh…morning.”

Roxy pressed her hand to her chest. “I’m Gwendolyn’s mother, Roxy O’Neill. But you can call me Roxy.”

“Morning, Roxy.”

“And you’re Lachlan MacRyrie. I know your uncles.”

“Ma!”

“I said I
know
his uncles, baby-girl. I didn’t say I
did
his uncles.”

“Ma,” Gwen said on a breath “why are you here?”

“I need to talk to you.”

Gwen dropped back on the bed, her arm over her eyes. “Oh, please, Ma. Not this morning. Last night was—”

“I know what happened last night. And I need to talk to you. It’s important, baby-girl.” She smiled at Lock. “It was really nice meeting you.”

“You, too.”

Her mother walked out and Gwen grabbed one of Lock’s T-shirts off the floor and followed after her.

“What’s up?” Gwen asked as she went into Lock’s kitchen. She needed some coffee and she needed it now.

“That young man has a
fine
ass, baby-girl.”

“Ma,” Gwen ground out between clenched teeth. “Why are you
here
?”

“Well, about last night…”

Gwen snorted. “I guess Mitch the rat told you.”

“Don’t call him that, and he wasn’t the one who told me. I actually heard because—” She stopped speaking and Gwen turned to face her mother. Gwen could never remember a time when her mother couldn’t find the words to express herself. Which is a real nice way of saying she never shut the fuck up. Until today. And there was only one reason Roxy O’Neill would suddenly be speechless.

“What did you do?”

Her mother chewed her lip before vaguely admitting, “I may have taken things up a notch.”

“You may have…” Then Gwen understood.
“Ma!”

“I know! I know! I’m so sorry, baby-girl! I just couldn’t believe that bitch was taking out our old grudge on my baby-girl!”

“What did you do?”

“Why does that matter?”

“What did you do?”

She shrugged. “I…uh…shaved parts of McNelly’s head.”

“Parts?”

“You know…so she looked like a monk.”

“Ma!”
What had she been thinking?

“Don’t be such a drama queen. It’ll grow back.”

“Oh, my God! What is wrong with you? Seriously? Is it a genetic defect that can be passed to me? To my children?”

“Baby-girl—”

“Don’t baby-girl me! You start this shit and you never think about the consequences. Do you know they grabbed one of the wild dog pups to get me away from the party? Do you even care you put a kid in danger?”

“Of course I—”

Gwen held her hands up. “I don’t want to hear it. I just want you to go.”

“You’re throwing me out?”

“I’m throwing you out. I need space right now. Space from
you
.” She waved her mother out of Lock’s kitchen and toward his front door. “Go.”

“Well if you’re going to be this way—”

“I’m going to be this way. Now get
out!
”

“Fine!”
Roxy bellowed before she stormed out.

Gwen heard the front door close, and all she could think about was getting back into her warm bed with Lock and letting him soothe all her troubles away with his four-inch bear claws. But as she headed to the room, she heard the front doorbell.

“If she’s back…” Gwen went back to the front door and snatched it open. She blinked in surprise. “Oh. Hi, Jess. Uh…”

Gwen stood in Lock’s doorway with a wild dog now hanging off her neck and she had no idea why. Although she was grateful to see Blayne behind her.

“What is she doing?”

“Thanking you.”

“For?”

Jess answered before Blayne could. “For what you did for Kristan and Johnny.”

Oh, that. She’d completely forgotten about that, but she sensed it wouldn’t be a good idea to say that out loud.

“No problem. It was—” She let out a breath and focused back on Blayne. “Okay, she’s still hugging.”

“You’re part of our Pack now, Gwen,” Jess said fiercely. “You’re one of us.” Jess stepped away from her and she had tears in her eyes. “You ever need us, you ever need
anything
. You or Lock…because he protected Johnny, too.
My
Johnny. My son. You two will
always
be one of us.”

“Thanks.”

Then she was being hugged again. Gwen stood there, waiting for the wild dog to release her. Blayne finally helped by gently taking Jess’s shoulders and pulling her away. “Why don’t you head on home and let me talk to Gwen? She’s not good with her raw emotions and she needs some time to experience the love you’re giving her.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, but Jess had her back to her and didn’t see.

“No problem.” Jess walked to the door, stopped right outside, and looked straight at Gwen. “I love you, Gwenie.”

Gwen blinked. “Okay.”

Blayne walked to the door and waved at Jess until the elevator doors closed. Once the wild dog was gone, Blayne stepped back into the apartment and closed the door. Then she was on her knees, laughing so hysterically that Gwen walked away, snarling over her shoulder, “I can’t believe you brought that shit here!”

Blayne rolled to her back, kicked her legs. That’s when Gwen went and made coffee. By the time she walked out with two mugs, a grizzly with a sheet around his waist was stumbling out of the bedroom.

She pointed. “Coffee. Kitchen.”

“Love you more and more.”

Blayne was standing now and she dug into her backpack, pulling out a bakery bag. “Honey buns! I brought them for Lock.”

“Smart move.”

Gwen put the mugs down on the coffee table and sat on the couch. “So why are you here? Because it’s not even nine yet, and unlike me, you’re not a morning person.”

“You’re a morning person?”

“Why are you here?”

“Okay, okay.” Blayne dropped on the couch. “As you can tell, there’s been much drama since you and your honey bun left last night.”

Gwen chuckled. “Honey bun.”

“The McNellys are up in arms, mostly about what Lock did to their two—” Gwen shook her head, cutting her off. She didn’t want that shit hanging over Lock’s head and, thankfully, Blayne understood her immediately. “Your mother also arrived.”

“She was just here.”

“Yeah. She got here last night, along with your uncles and aunts.”

Gwen put her coffee down on the table. “Oh, no.”

“They were at the hospital, along with the Smiths, Mitch and Brendon, and the Kuznetsov Pack.”

“Okay,” Gwen said, wanting to cut to it as quickly as possible. “How bad is this?”

“The Smiths are calling for war.”

Gwen held up a hand. “Wait. What?”

“The Smiths are calling for war, and Ric had to put in emergency calls to the Board—which, to be honest, I didn’t know we had a Board—who sent over his cousin Niles, who happened to be in town for some reason, don’t know why. And can I just say…hottie?”

“Ric?”

“Niles.”

“Mated.”

“I can look.”

Gwen gestured with her hand. “Just get to it. Why are the
Smiths
calling for anything, much less war?” Packs always seemed to be getting into wars with someone. She didn’t understand it. They were either fighting each other or some Pride or Clan. The wars could get really ugly, too, lasting for decades.

“Who’s threatening war?” Lock asked as he walked out of the kitchen with a mug of coffee in one hand and the sheet still held around his waist with the other.

“The Smiths,” Blayne answered.

He sat down hard on the couch, his eyes wide. “Why? Because of last night?”

“Yeah. But not because of you two. It seems they don’t care about you two at all. Kristan and Johnny, however…”

“What about Kristan and Johnny?” Gwen demanded. “When I called Mitch last night he said they were fine.”

“They’re completely fine. But they were threatened, and they’re still pups.”

“And part of Jess’s wild dog Pack,” Lock answered, understanding the dynamics of the wild dogs better than Gwen.

Blayne grinned, obviously loving this. “But Jess is with Smitty now, which means she’s family. If she’s family, her Pack is family.”

“Okay…and?”

Lock put down his coffee and buried his face in his hands. “I see where this is going.”

“I know you do.”

“I don’t,” Gwen snapped. “Neither pup was hurt.”

“True,” Blayne explained. “But they were traumatized.”

“Traumatized, my ass. They’re just overprotected and spoiled.”

“And,” the wolfdog happily went on, “the Smiths consider it a hate crime.”