She moved against his body, her breasts pressing against his chest, her mouth meeting his, their kisses greedy, hot, passionate. He couldn’t get enough of her. Tongues connected, tasting the peach brandy they’d shared. Sweet.
He slid his hands down her panties, cupping her soft cheeks, squeezing. She let out a little sigh of delight that pleased him. Then she slipped his cock out of his boxers and touched the broad head, eagerly stroking him. God, that felt good. “You’re wet,” she whispered.
He dipped his fingers between her legs and plunged one in between her folds. “You are, too.”
“Not just wet,” she whispered, as she rubbed her body against his.
He felt the ripples of climax inside her then, realized that with Anna a little sparring was good for foreplay, and vowed they’d have a room just for that—to keep in great shape and combat-ready—wherever they ended up living.
“I’m ready,” she gasped, breathless, her eyes dark with arousal. “If you are.”
He opened his legs to release her, and she pulled off his boxers. He quickly dispensed with her panties and dragged her under him. He entered her gently at first but quickly picked up the pace. Her heady scent mixed with his, the two of them smelling of the outdoors, of snow and firs and pine, of peach brandy and of her sweet peach-scented shampoo. Their hot, delicious sexy and overactive pheromones had him driving into her over and over again until he muffled her cry with a penetrating kiss. He exploded inside her, having never felt this complete.
He rolled off her and saw the expression on her face. She was one sleepy, well-satisfied she-wolf with a tired smile on her face. He tugged aside the covers. Then he moved her to their side of the bed and curled up beside her, spooning her, pulling the covers over them. He hoped they could solve the murder mystery quickly and painlessly so he and Anna could make some plans for their honeymoon.
Bjornolf’s cell phone rang the next morning, and he realized the last time he had used it was before he and Anna went after Nathan the night before last.
Before he could throw on some boxers and retrieve the phone from down the hall, he heard Nathan say, “Hi, Hunter. No, it’s me, Nathan. They were making a ruckus in the bedroom for most of the night. It’s quiet in there now, so I think they’re still sleeping. I’ll tell him as soon as he gets up.”
Bjornolf groaned and looked down at Anna. She was smiling up at him.
“I don’t think Hunter had this in mind when he hired us for this job,” Anna whispered, touching Bjornolf’s chest.
A fresh shiver of need rocketed straight to his groin.
Bjornolf leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I’m not too sure about that. I’ll go see what Hunter wants. It’s time to put up the outdoor Christmas lights anyway. You just rest.” After the wild night they’d had, they both needed a daytime nap.
She nodded and closed her eyes.
He took a quick, cold shower, then grabbed a pair of fresh boxers, noting that Anna was tucked under the covers and sound asleep. She looked beautiful, her hair tousled and spread out across the white pillowcases, her face angelic in sleep. His undercover operative. His sexy she-wolf.
He finished dressing and headed for the kitchen to get a cup of hot coffee.
Nathan had laid strings of lights all over the couches, getting them ready to put up outside. Bjornolf smiled at him, glad the kid was ready to help. He noticed Nathan had already had eggnog for breakfast, the filmy glass sitting in the kitchen sink. Bjornolf eyed it for a second.
“I didn’t drink any rum in it. Honest,” Nathan said. “You would have smelled it. That’s the problem with living with wolf chaperones.”
“You’re right.” Bjornolf noticed the coffee percolating, but Nathan hadn’t had any. “You having some?”
Nathan shook his head.
“Thanks for fixing it.” Bjornolf poured himself a mug, then said, “Who called? Hunter?”
Nathan’s face turned a light shade of red. “Uh, yeah. You… heard?”
“Yep. Another disadvantage of having wolf chaperones.”
Nathan nodded. “Or teen wolves who can hear all the noise being made down the hall.”
Bjornolf fought a grin. “We were sparring.”
Nathan’s face fell, then the smile returned. “Yeah, right.” When Bjornolf didn’t confirm Nathan’s suspicions one way or another, he asked pointedly, “You’re mated, right?”
Normally, Bjornolf wouldn’t have said. But this wasn’t a normal situation.
“Yeah, we’re hitched, wolf-style.” Meaning mated, no marriage necessary. It was a done deal for life.
Nathan nodded, trying to look serious, but he couldn’t hide a full-fledged grin.
That worried Bjornolf a bit. He hadn’t considered living with Nathan beyond this mission.
“Okay,” Bjornolf said, not willing to ponder the situation further. “Let me talk to Hunter, and then let’s get those lights up. Open house is tomorrow, and we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”
Bjornolf walked outside into the crisp, cold winter day. He had the phone to his ear as he carried several strands of lights draped over his arm. Nathan had already brought out several more and a ladder, plus plastic hooks to hang the lights to the gutters.
Bjornolf was impressed.
“Is this the right way?” Nathan asked. “I’ve never hung lights up on a house before.”
“That’s it.” Bjornolf heard Hunter’s voice and said, “Bjornolf here. You called?”
“Yeah, you first.”
Bjornolf was watching Nathan as he hung the lights meticulously, making sure the hooks were evenly spaced. The kid was doing a good job, and Bjornolf couldn’t help but be proud of him. His father must have been just as pleased with him.
“I don’t know anything new on the case,” Bjornolf told Hunter.
Nathan looked down at him, all ears.
“That’s not what I meant,” Hunter said.
Bjornolf frowned. “Anna?” he guessed.
“Yeah. Well, what of it?” Hunter sounded growly and protective of his teammate.
Nathan looked like he might be in trouble for having said anything about hearing Anna and Bjornolf last night. Bjornolf raised his brows at Nathan and smiled, reassuring him that he was fine with what Nathan had said to Hunter.
“Sparring practice,” Bjornolf told Hunter.
Nathan grinned and continued hanging more lights.
“Sparring practice,” Hunter said. He didn’t say anything more for a moment.
Bjornolf stepped forward to hand Nathan a new strand of lights. “Yeah.”
“Who won this time?” Hunter finally asked.
“Depends on who’s telling the story.”
Hunter laughed. “I can believe that. How’s Nathan doing?”
“Nathan’s great. He made us coffee. Didn’t drink rum in his eggnog, and he’s hanging Christmas lights on the house. Couldn’t ask for a better kid.”
Nathan’s ears tinged red, but he smiled, and Bjornolf was glad that Nathan heard him praise him. Especially after what had occurred yesterday over the running-to-Portland situation.
“What about the two of you? Can you handle it?”
“He might have to stay at your house at night if he wants to get some sleep,” Bjornolf said.
Nathan quickly shook his head, frowning.
“Forget it. He says no. We’ll get him some earplugs.”
Hunter laughed. Then he got serious again. “Finn discovered that both of the dead men had been working with the DEA. I’m wondering if these agents were investigating someone at the tree farm. What if they learned that the guy was dealing, but before they could report it, the agents were murdered?”