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  Gwen took a sip of coffee. Ruthie had mentioned him taking a business trip next week.

  Great. That means I’ll be shuttling between her house and Mom and Dad’s. “I knew I should have stayed in bed this morning. Of course I don’t mind if you go. I’m your sister, not your freaking boss.”

  “Technically you are, because you pay me to help you. You’ve got the book signing in town next weekend, remember?” That wasn’t the only thing Amy was worried about and Gwen damn well knew it.

  Gwen groaned. “You know what? I can handle it. Liam can come with me. He’ll be dying for a chance to escape Mom for a few hours. Just go and have fun. You’ve more than earned it.” She gave Amy a one-armed hug and carried her coffee back out to the desk.

  Tim had replied to Gwen’s e-mail.

  You can have as much coffee as you want on me, if you ever come visit me, I promise. Kissy-huggy! - TimE.

  Well, if her day had to go to shit, at least she had Tim to cheer her up. They normally e-mailed back and forth several times a week, sometimes several times a day. He felt like a close friend even though they’d never met in real life, or even talked on the phone. She loved their flirty banter despite knowing it would never amount to anything other than great fodder for her books.

  Le sigh.

  Amy followed Gwen to her desk. “I need to go to work. So we’re cool with me bugging out on you for a little while?”

  “Jesus, I said go. What, you going on safari or something?”

  “No, just Rapid City for two weeks.”

  She couldn’t resist the urge to bust Amy’s balls. “There’s two weeks’ worth of stuff to do in Rapid City?”

  Amy rolled her eyes. “I’m going to drive around and sightsee. Do some hiking. If I don’t use that vacation time, I’m going to lose it. I’ll be out there already, so it’ll save me hassles with our ’rents, you know that. A legitimate reason to be gone so I don’t have to explain myself. You’ll back me up, right?”

  Gwen snorted. “Yeah, they’ll blame me instead. It’s not like you have to change my diaper or anything, kiddo. I’m your little sister, not a fricking baby. I think I can check my own post office box and pay my own bills and stuff for a couple of weeks. And of course I’ll deal with Mom and Dad and keep Liam from killing them. Seriously, go have fun. You deserve it.”

  Amy hugged her again. “Thanks, sis.”

  Amy left, leaving Gwen to wonder if maybe she should head back to bed. Dickweed’s call, her sister acting odd and with a secret guy on the side, and Ruthie acting odder than usual.

  And people wonder why I’m a writer.

  Chapter Two

  Jonathan stared at her with deep, dark emerald eyes full of passion. “I am going to claim you, woman. You belong to me.”

  Shelaine wanted to resist but her body said otherwise. She felt moisture pooling between her legs as her own hunger grew. That’s when Markham growled in her ear. “And I am going to claim you, too. By the time the sun arises, you will be filled with our seed and begging for more.”

  Her mind tried to rebel, but the rich, musky scent of the two shapeshifters was more than her senses could take. She fell into Jonathan’s arms as Markham reached beneath her dress and ripped her panties off her. His fingers plunged into her soaked pussy as—

  Gwen’s computer made a whooping noise, pulling her out of her writing the love scene as Morticia Addams’ voice announced, “Mail’s in.” She grinned and switched over to her mail program. That special alert meant e-mail had arrived from Tim.

  Read it, loved it! Can I have your baby now, pleeeeease? Kissy-huggy! - TimE.

  Gwen nearly snorted coffee through her nose while reading Tim’s e-mail. That will teach me to drink and read. She set her mug on her desk before typing her reply, all thoughts of writing the impending fuck-fest between horny wolf shifters Jonathan, Markham, and their main squeeze Shelaine driven from her mind.

  I think I have the wrong parts to interest you, babycakes, but I’m glad you liked it.

  Snugs and Hugs,

  Go-Go.

  She tapped send.

  Gwen drained her coffee and turned to get up. Before she did, she stared at her table, where she’d left the five-pound box of travel and tourist brochures from the Rapid City area that had arrived in the mail the previous afternoon. She had to stand in line for twenty minutes with the claim note from her post office box, waiting behind a rather smelly guy who apparently never made the acquaintance of deodorant. Or soap.

  Or a shower.

  Amy’s been busy. Not only had Amy included brochures, but a spiral notebook with page upon page of handwritten notes, dated and everything, with interesting tidbits and helpful information not included in the brochures. And two CDs of digital pics Amy had dumped off her camera onto her laptop and burned for her.

  Amy hadn’t called her in the past few days, but Gwen didn’t worry. She was probably enjoying her “downtime,” if that’s what Amy insisted on calling it. At thirty-nine, Amy was the eldest of the three siblings and seven years older than Gwen, the baby. As sisters, they’d spent a lot of years not very close. Gwen and their brother, Liam, had always been super tight. Amy, not so much with either of them.

  When Liam was diagnosed with MS five years earlier, it brought their whole family together.

  Well, as much as their family could ever be together. Gwen’s relationship with their parents had been strained since her teenage years for a variety of reasons. Now Amy lived with their parents and Liam ten minutes away from Gwen, helping them out. Never married and no kids, Amy had volunteered to sell her house and move in with them after Liam got sick.

  Gwen owned her house, courtesy of the divorce judge decreeing Dickweed had to hand it over to her as per their prenup because he cheated. It wasn’t uncommon for Amy to spend a night or weekend there with her when she needed to escape their parents, or for Liam to come over for an overnighter or day visit to hide from their mom.

  Gwen didn’t mind pitching in and helping at their place, except when her father started in on her over her choice of ex-husband, the failure of her marriage despite it being Dickweed’s fault, her career writing “trash” books, and her failure to attend church on a regular basis like her “good” big sister. He constantly threw Amy up as the example Gwen should aspire to. Gwen didn’t blame Amy for that, but it had caused hard feelings in her for years, with only Liam there to understand and support her. Their mom always took their father’s side.

  Self-preservation, she supposed. If she’d had to share a bed with David Oxford every night, she’d use every survival tactic she could latch on to, including alcoholism, if necessary.

  Thank god for big brother.

  Gwen was about to finally get up when another e-mail from Tim arrived.

  I love you for your great head…eh, brain, Go-Go girl, so you absolutely have the right parts to interest me. ;) - TimE.

  Laughing, Gwen shook her head and walked to the kitchen. If only he wasn’t gay with a boyfriend. Lucky bastard. Why can’t I find a guy like that in real life?

  Her cell phone rumbled out the attack theme from Jaws.

  Eyeing the Jack Daniel’s bottle with longing, she answered the call. “What’s up, Dad?”

  “Have you heard from your sister?”

  “Technically. I just received a huge box of research material she shipped me from Rapid City. Why?”

  “Your mother left three voice mail messages for her yesterday, and she hasn’t returned any of them.” Gwen hadn’t been over to her parents’ house in two days. Liam assured her he was fine and would call her if he needed her to come help or run interference for him with their parents. They’d had a blast last weekend at the book signing.

  Gwen closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Yeah, no shit, she’s probably enjoying her peace and quiet. “I’m sure she’s busy, Dad. She’s got meetings, too.”

  “According to the agenda she left, her meetings ended three days ago. There’s no reason she should b
e busy.”

  Gwen didn’t necessarily believe that, but didn’t want to rat Amy out. She opted to feign ignorance. “What?”

  “Your mother has a question about one of Liam’s prescriptions, and we can’t get ahold of her.”

  “Did you call her hotel?”

  His tone took on indignation. “She lied about where she was staying. They have no record of Amy Oxford on their reservation records.”

  That wasn’t Gwen’s first thought. She probably lied about who she was staying with. But the lack of a return call did worry her. “I’ll try her myself.”

  “Well, if you get in touch with her, tell her that she’s got her mother worried, thank you very much. I would expect this kind of irresponsible behavior from you, not from her. Something must be wrong.”

  “Dad, I’ll—”

  He hung up, cutting her off.

  She walked over to the bottle of Jack Daniel’s, a smaller one still half full from a Christmas party five months earlier. She uncapped it and dumped it into the sink. At this rate it was too tempting. She’d never been anything more than an occasional recreational drinker despite ample legitimate reasons over the years.

  This latest blowup could really make her want to start.

  She called Liam’s cell. He answered using a Humphrey Bogart voice. “How ya doin’, shweeheart?”

  Gwen giggled. Her partner in crime. “Hey, bro. How’s it hanging?”

  “Long and low as always, baby sis. What’s up?”

  “Dad’s freaking out. I figured I’d better call you and get the accurate story.”

  He sounded aggravated. “I told Mom I had the information about my scripts. She insisted on calling Amy anyway because she hadn’t called home in a couple of days. They keep tabs on her like freaking prison wardens. I’m not worried about her.”

  “Ah. I thought that might be it. Maybe she just wanted extra downtime.”

  He laughed. “Probably more like up and down time.”

  “What?”

  “Hold on.” It sounded like he put his phone down, and a moment later he returned, his voice lower. “I wanted to shut my door so Mom doesn’t overhear. I think Amy was meeting a guy out there. Which would explain why her name didn’t show on the hotel register.”

  Suspicion confirmed. “We think alike, bro.”

  “I couldn’t say that for fear of blowing her cover, you know? What am I supposed to tell them? ‘Hey, don’t worry about her, I think she’s just getting her freak on.’ I think not.”

  Gwen burst out laughing. “Yeah. Dad would threaten her with the convent again.”

  “I haven’t managed to convince him that one, we’re not Catholic, and two, she’s an adult.” He sighed. “Can you come spring me tonight? Please?”

  Another guilty pang. Except for the fact that she’d want to kill her father, she would have volunteered to live there to help take care of Liam instead of Amy. “Will they let you out tonight? Are you feeling okay?” He’d almost been hospitalized over a kidney infection a few weeks earlier. She’d got him to the book signing only because he snuck out while their mother was out making her regular grocery store trip and their father was out playing golf. Liam waited to call their mom until after Gwen had safely spirited him away for the day.

  “Just, please, come take me to your place for a couple of nights. I’m having a good week. I can move around okay. You saw me on Saturday, I feel fine. Two or three nights, please? You can order me a hooker. Or at the very least a damn pizza.”

  Gwen laughed. No way in hell could she tell him no. “Be ready to run at three. Toss your bags out the window.”

  “You are such a good baby sister. I’m willing my Star Trek collection to you, you know that, right?”

  “Even Malibu Worf?”

  The old joke never failed to make him laugh. “Malibu Worf, Malibu Data, anatomically correct Q, the whole damn crew.”

  “Okay. You break it to them, and I’ll slow down on my way past so you can jump in.”

  “See you at three.”

  She looked around. Nothing needed cleaning, but she’d have to rearrange the living room a little so he could easily navigate in his wheelchair if he needed to use it. He’d sleep in the downstairs office she rarely used. The comfortable queen-sized Murphy bed folded down from the wall and was easy for him to get in and out of. She’d had the downstairs guest bath modified a couple of years earlier, after his diagnosis and before her divorce from Dickweed, so it opened into the office with a door wide enough for a wheelchair and configured so Liam could use it without assistance. She fingered her phone and decided to send Amy a text message instead of calling.

  Pls call or txt me or Li. M&D going batshit. We won’t rat u out, promise.

  Hopefully that would get some sort of response.

  If not, she wouldn’t get a moment’s peace.

  Chapter Three

  “Ow! What the hell are you doing?” Jackson Kelly couldn’t move because his boyfriend, Timothy Ellis, sat straddling his chest, pinning him to their bed.

  “Lie still. I told you it hurts more if you move.”

  “You’re a fucking sadist—ow!”

  “Hold. Still.” Tim pressed his palm against Jack’s forehead to keep him in place.

  “I can’t—ow!—hold fucking still, Tim! You’re ripping my goddamned face off!”

  “I’m almost done.”

  “Ow!”

  When Jack tried to push Tim off, Tim slapped his hand away. “Stop. Hold the fuck still.”

  Jack thrashed and yelled and protested. Tim wouldn’t stop. Finally, Tim moved, letting Jack up. He put the tweezers on the bedside table. “There. You don’t look like a damn caveman anymore.” He climbed off the bed.

  Jack glared at him before he went to go look at his face in their bathroom mirror, examining where Tim had yanked nose and eyebrow hairs.

  “You jerk! You shaped them! I said you could get rid of my unibrow, not shape my fucking eyebrows!”

  “You couldn’t tell what I was doing?”

  “When it feels like someone’s ripping your nostrils out, no, you can’t!” He shot him another nasty look. “You’re a fucking sadist.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing. It’s not like I held you down and gave you a Brazilian, you know.”

  Jack shook his head. “Oh, fuck no. No way in hell.”

  “But you’d look so cute.”

  “Stop it.”

  Tim ran his hand down Jack’s firm abs. “Just think, you could be smooth as a baby’s ass.”

  “No. Absolutely not. I shave my face, and I let you trim my bush. That’s as far as I go. You want to skin yourself, be my guest. It’s not like I look like a damn Wookiee.”

  “Thank god. I’m not into bears, you know that.” He let his hand drift lower, to Jack’s cock, as he gave Jack his infamous, cock-hardening, soul-melting puppy dog eyes. “This is Jack’s flaccid shaft.”

  Jack burst out laughing. “That’s the last time I let you watch Fight Club right before bed.” As Tim wrapped his fingers around Jack’s flaccid shaft, it grew in his hand. “You don’t stop,” he warned, “you’re going to have to finish something.”

  Tim tugged on him, leading him back to their bed. “Maybe that was my intention, did you think about that? You don’t have to be in court this morning. You said so last night. You can be a few minutes late to the station.”

  Jack pushed the shorter man onto the bed and straddled him. “Maybe I should pluck your damn eyebrows.”

  Tim pointed to his brow. “I pluck mine. I’m civilized. I’m not a damn pussy about it, either.”

  “That’s because I think you’re a masochist.”

  Tim grinned. “I thought you said I was a sadist. Make up your mind.”

  “Maybe you’re both. One of those…what do they call them? A switch. Versatile.”

  “You want to talk or fuck, Detective Kelly?”

  Jack shifted position, until he knelt over Tim’s head, his cock just over hi
s mouth. “What do you think?”

  Tim opened his mouth and lifted his head, but Jack shifted his hips, teasing him until he finally let him suck his cock into his eager mouth. Tim grabbed his ass, pulling him closer, his fingers digging in and holding him in place.

  Not that Jack wanted to move or had any intention of moving.

  Jack reached out and braced his arms on the bed. Tim took him deep, wanting more, sucking him clear to his balls with every stroke. “Fuck yeah, baby,” Jack softly encouraged. “That’s it.” After a few minutes he knew he was close to blowing and made Tim release him.

  Tim whined in protest, enjoying the bottom time, but Jack reassured him. “Just hold on, you’ll be a happy boy in a minute.” Jack turned around, changing positions so he could sixty-nine with him. Tim wasted no time sucking him down to his sac again as Jack wrapped his own fingers around Tim’s cock and licked it.

  He could do this all day with him. If he didn’t watch out, he’d be late to work. He worked his hips in time with Tim’s mouth, enjoying the hot, wet suction from the glans to the base, working to draw the cum from his very depths. Beneath him, Tim’s trim, firm body squirmed as Jack worked similar magic on him. He cupped Tim’s balls in his hand and gently squeezed, making Tim moan. When he wet a finger and pressed it against Tim’s rim, Tim let out a muffled cry around Jack’s cock before he exploded a load of hot spunk into Jack’s mouth.

  Jack stayed with Tim, swallowing, sucking, easing up when he knew his lover had enough.

  Then he focused on his own orgasm. With his cheek pressed against Tim’s thigh, Jack closed his eyes and enjoyed his lover’s talented mouth as Tim happily pulled him over the edge of climax.

  Tim rolled him onto his back, staying with him, relentless even after Jack tried to make him stop. Tim placed a kiss on his balls. “Nope. I want another one out of you, mister. You fell asleep on me last night. Morning wood relief is not nearly enough to make up for that.”