Melinda's Wolves by Becca Jameson

Author:Becca Jameson [Jameson, Becca]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Erotic Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Hartwood Publishing
Published: 2015-08-05T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

An alarm was going off somewhere in the recesses of Melinda’s mind. She didn’t recognize the tone. Still, she tried to tug an arm out from beneath the covers to slap at it. It came from somewhere to her left…

Her arms were trapped, pinned to her sides.

Her eyes shot open.

Jesus. When would she get used to this? She was surrounded by testosterone. Enough for sixty men. They each had an arm across her waist. They slept like the dead.

“Trace,” she muttered, unable to get her voice to work quite right. It crackled and sounded nothing like her. The horrific buzzing was coming from his side of the bed. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Trace. Babe.” She tugged her arm again. Pinned.

He groaned, his head the only thing moving. And then he managed to reach out with one arm and slap the clock hard without moving another muscle. “Fuck.”

It was dark in the room. She couldn’t see past either man to glimpse a clock and ascertain the time. “You have to work first shift again?”

“Mm hmm.” He snuggled closer to her, as if that were possible, nuzzling her neck until she giggled. “And you’re coming with me this time.”

“What?” She squirmed to escape his teasing mouth. “No way. I’m not going to follow you around the sheriff’s office all day. And besides, I don’t do o’dark thirty.” It was against her religion to have even one eye open at this ungodly hour.

“You do today,” he whispered against her ear, his mouth having traveled there to nibble on her lobe.

Keegan stirred on her other side. His voice was gravelly when he mumbled into the dark. “Good luck with her, man. She’s fucking hell on wheels when you have her with you in public.”

Melinda finally managed to wiggle one arm free when Keegan rolled slightly off her. She used it to playfully slap his shoulder. “That’s just mean.”

He chuckled, low and deep, his voice awakening her passion in an instant.

“No.” She pushed against him. “Move. Both of you.” She turned to face Trace. “Stop touching me. My entire body aches from the thousand positions you put me through last night. I need a break.”

Her mind needed a break. Hell, her pussy would be sore. But her fucking libido screamed for more.

She wiggled out from under the sheet at the head of the bed, grateful her small stature permitted her to escape four clutching hands.

Before they managed to snag her, she climbed free and jumped to the floor. She was too tired. Her legs wobbled. Her adrenaline and the desire to avoid her men wasn’t enough to hold her upright. She grabbed the edge of the bed to get her bearings.

Trace rolled her direction, flung out an arm, and wrapped it around her, holding her against the edge of the bed. “Where’s the fire?” He kissed her stomach, his tongue reaching out to lick a line over her belly button until he reached too close to her pussy.

She fought his grip, but she was too small for either man.

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