His mouth moved to my nipple, biting and licking until I stopped fighting and arched up, eyes closed, hips straining for his. He moved on to the other, flicked his tongue across it, making me gasp and writhe.

"Or maybe a little of this… "

His tongue traced a path down my chest and over my stomach. I lifted my hips. He chuckled, and slowed down, tickling and teasing as I wiggled, trying to redirect him. Finally he made it, teeth grazing exactly the right place, nibbling and sucking, making me decide I could forgive him for toying with me, if only he'd keep toying with me this way just a little longer, driving me to that point where all it would take was-

He stopped. I growled. He chuckled.

"Sorry, darling, just thought maybe you were ready for a little of this… "

He slid into me. I moaned my appreciation. Foreplay is wonderful, but this was what it was all about, him inside me, slowly pushing deeper, building up to that moment when we couldn't hold back, that frantic, hard, desperate thrusting-

He pulled out.

"And I think that's enough of that, don't you?"

I snarled. I growled. I called him really, really nasty names.

"Now, now, darling," he said. "You just relax while I finish up here." He started stroking himself again. "If you want to watch, feel free. It won't take long."

I called him more names. I yanked and pulled and struggled so hard the headboard groaned.

"Hey, damage bills," he said. "You really don't want to explain that one to Jeremy."

"Then finish what you started and we won't have to."

His brows arched. "Is that an order? You know, I think this Alpha business is going to your head. Yet another reason why, if we're going to make this relationship work, we need balance. Outside the bedroom, you're in charge. But in it?" He leaned over me, teeth flashing as he grinned. "It's all about me."

I snapped the baluster from the headboard and leapt up, knocking him over backward and pouncing on him.

"Or maybe not… " he said.

I slid myself onto him. Just an inch. Then another inch. He grinned, eyes rolling up, a sigh hissing through his teeth. Another inch. I clenched him tight, and his hands slid up under my armpits, thumbs flicking my nipples. Another half-inch. He groaned, eyes closing now, all but a slit, never completely closing, always watching me. Another half-inch…

I jumped up, dancing backward on the bed.

He snarled and tried grabbing my legs. I backpedaled… right over the edge of the bed, grabbing the floor lamps as I went down. It toppled onto me. Clay sprang, pushing my knees apart, plunging into me. He knocked the lamp aside. I dimly heard it crash into something else. I didn't really care. I just arched up to meet his thrusts, bruisingly, wonderfully hard thrusts, his arms around me, mouth coming to mine, kissing me just as hard, growling deep in his throat, the growls getting ragged as my own breathing did, taking us closer and closer until… Bliss.

We lay there a moment, entwined around each other, panting. Then I lifted my head to look at the room. Two broken lamps. One ripped pillowcase. One damaged headboard. Not bad… Oh, shit. Was that a picture frame? Two picture frames. How the hell did we…?

I sighed.

"We'll snag the bill before Jeremy sees it," Clay said.

I sighed louder.

"Bigger room, darling. Like I said, we need a bigger room."

SNUBBED

WE WOKE BEFORE seven, which seemed plenty early given our long day and late night, but there were already two messages from Jeremy. I tried calling him back before checking the messsage-usually one from Jeremy is a simple "call me when you get a chance." But no one answered at the house.

I added the four-hour time difference and figured he'd taken the kids for their usual play-at-the-park-then-go-out-for-lunch routine. By nature, we prefer to stick with our own kind, so we need to schedule socialization time for the kids.

Logan isn't keen on the socializing part, but he loves getting out and exploring the world. Kate, like her father, doesn't see the point. Once she's at the park, she's fine. She enjoys watching and following the older kids. I call it social interaction. Clay calls it stalking. Either way, she has fun, and when she starts getting bored, the promise of lunch perks her up again.

I retrieved the first message.

"Elena, it's Jeremy. No, I don't recall mentioning the Wendigo article to Dennis. More likely, Clay's-"

"Is that Mommy?" Kate's voice pipped up in the background.

"Yes, but she's sleeping and I'm leaving a message-"

"Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!"

"Would you like to leave her a message for when she wakes up?"

"No. Want her home. Mommy?" Her voice rose, taking on that imperative tone I knew too well. "Come home."

"Kate, she's-"

"Now. Come home now. Tell Daddy. Come home. Mommy and Daddy. Come home right now."

"I'll call back."

The message ended. Parental guilt for breakfast. Yummy.

Message two.

"It's me again. I apologize for that. I thought she was downstairs. As I was saying, it's likely Clay was right-that Dennis was investigating whatever you two saw in the woods. As intriguing as that is, though, I'm more concerned with these apparent new immigrants. I decided to call-"

"Is that Mom?" Logan 's voice sounded in the distance, then stockinged feet padded across the floor.

"Yes, I'm just leaving her a message. If you can wait a minute, you can say something."

"I want to talk to Mom. Not her voice mail."

There are times when it's nice having a preschooler who can communicate so well. This was not one of them. It's like when they were infants and we couldn't wait for them to walk… then we were running ourselves ragged chasing after them, wondering "what the hell was I thinking?"

"You will talk to her," Jeremy said calmly. "Later, after she wakes up. Now can you sit on the bed and wait, please? We'll be leaving soon." He returned to the message. "I decided to call Roman."

Roman Novikov was the Alpha of the Russian Pack. He'd made contact with Jeremy last year, through the interracial council, wanting to ask about a new mutt they presumed was American.

This may seem perfectly natural. It's the twenty-first century, we have computers, telephones, a million ways to keep in touch long distance, so why wouldn't Alphas share information and resources? But it just doesn't happen, no more than wild wolf packs interact. We each have our own territory and most are content to pretend the others don't exist. Roman is one of the more progressive Alphas. We weren't the first Pack he'd reached out to, trying to open the lines of communication, but Jeremy was the first Alpha who'd welcomed the contact, and they'd talked a few times since.