Bounty [Dominant Wolves, Submissive Mates 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  Dominant Wolves, Submissive Mates 2

  Bounty

  An old enemy places bounties on two pack masters and all they hold dear. With a true vendetta against the WolfDen packs, Grant Ford offers a handsome reward for Jock Corrigan and Frank Smith. Soon, a sloth of werebears show up for the hunt and the Wyoming territory will never be the same.

  Carla Cassidy is devoted to her Alphas, but as she spends more time with beta Heck James, she is forced to acknowledge feelings between them. When Heck risks everything to save her, Carla senses his commitment is more than duty.

  Before the werebears strike, Carla sets the perfect stage for romance, unwilling to postpone an inevitable joining. After an illicit night of passion, Carla and her men are left in a vulnerable situation. And a strange twist of fate leaves bounty hunters standing as the accused as the Wyoming packs are forced to rely upon their enemy and stand for one united cause.

  Genre: Historical, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves, Western/Cowboys

  Length: 20,875 words

  BOUNTY

  Dominant Wolves, Submissive Mates 2

  Natalie Acres

  MENAGE EVERLASTING

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

  BOUNTY

  Copyright © 2014 by Natalie Acres

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-676-4

  First E-book Publication: April 2014

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  About the Author

  BOUNTY

  Dominant Wolves, Submissive Mates 2

  NATALIE ACRES

  Copyright © 2014

  Chapter One

  “Folks in Laramie, WolfDen, too, are on the shoot thanks to that damned Grant Ford.” Frank entered the cabin and slammed a handful of wanted posters on the small wooden chopping block.

  Carla set aside the eggs she’d just gathered from the coop and wiped her hands on her apron. She focused on the bold print under the two terrible sketches. “Jock Corrigan and Frank Smith wanted dead or alive.”

  “I told that damned Jock this would happen. I told him if we didn’t put Grant out of his misery, he’d haunt us for the rest of our lives.”

  Yes, Frank had mentioned Grant a few dozen times. He’d begun to sound like an old woman moanin’ and bitchin’ about the weather when there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. If Grant Ford was behind the bounty placed on their heads, perhaps Frank finally had a legitimate reason to grumble.

  “I suppose now it’s somehow Grant’s fault Wyoming’s best bounty hunters will be looking for trouble?” Jock pushed back the curtain separating the main part of the cabin from their sleeping space. “There’s no reason to point fingers and place blame. We all thought Grant was a goner when we left him in my pack’s den six months ago. Your pack dragged him outside with two or three slugs to the chest. He survived because he had a will to live. None of us expected him to overcome those gunshot wounds.”

  “Oh, he lived to tell the tale all right.” Frank dragged the wanted posters across the flat surface with his index finger. “In case you haven’t heard.” He tapped the bounty notice. “Grant now has Laramie’s prized star pinned to his chest.”

  “He’s the marshal?” Carla asked, taken by surprise.

  “Uh-huh.” Frank’s dark brows furrowed. “According to this, he’s real serious about his new lawman title. He’s placed a right smart amount on our heads.”

  “How come this is the first we’re hearing about Grant’s new position?”

  “Just happened day before yesterday,” Frank said. “I found out while I was in town picking up these posters.”

  “How’d this happen?” Jock picked up the brown papers and studied the images. In deep concentration, he rummaged through the stack. “He’s even described how we look in our wolf forms.”

  Carla peered over Jock’s shoulder. “Isn’t there some law against this?”

  “Pack laws,” Frank replied. “Apparently Grant is above those now.”

  “He’s always thought he was a little sharper than everyone else,” Jock said.

  Frank snarled. “His smarts aren’t in question now are they?”

  “Neither one of you are wearing a badge,” Carla said quietly.

  “Thanks for pointing that out,” Jock said, tossing the posters to the table and tucking the tail of his shirt in the back of his breeches. He grabbed a tin cu
p and poured a cup of coffee. After a sip, he took a walk outside.

  “This is killing him, Frank,” Carla said. “Grant was always at Jock’s flank. He was his beta, but he was also his best friend. They were like brothers. Imagine how you would feel if Heck had betrayed you.”

  Since Carla had become two pack alphas’ mate, Heck James had become her keeper of sorts. When Jock and Frank went scouting for new territory, Heck often stayed behind to watch over her and keep an eye on the land previously claimed by the Wyoming Wood and WolfDen packs.

  Heck and Frank had the kind of relationship Jock once enjoyed with Grant. They shared similar histories and a kinship not just anyone would understand.

  Carla related to their past because she’d been part of it. Before settling in WolfDen, Jock and Grant used to pass through from time to time. They often stopped for a visit, long enough to eat a hot meal and share the adventures of their travels.

  “I know Jock’s hurt,” Frank said, pulling Carla away from her thoughts. “I hate it for him, but it doesn’t change the fact that I warned him. Grant held a grudge. A man with a vendetta against someone he once considered a friend is a dangerous sort of character.”

  “Grant sees it like we left him for buzzard food,” Heck said, removing his hat as he entered the cabin.

  “Did he say that?” Frank asked.

  “Yep.” Heck gave Carla a heated look. “That’s the story he’s telling in town.”

  Carla hurriedly poured Heck a cup of coffee and handed it to him. Frank watched them with knowing eyes. A smile tugged at his lips and he returned to his rocking chair by the fire. After some quiet moments, he wagged his fingers between them. “The two of you have gotten close. Haven’t ya?”

  “No, Sir,” Carla said, aware of her cheeks heating.

  Heck stared at her as if he were truly bothered by her quick reply. “I’d say we’re friends.” He drank from his cup. Smacking his lips, he quickly added, “Wouldn’t you say that much, Carla?”

  She grabbed a broom and swept their dirt floor, paying close attention to the area around the fireplace. “Oh sure. We’re friends.” Feeling Frank’s burning gaze, she paused long enough to study him more intently. “We’re in the same pack, Frank. Of course we’re friends.”

  Frank moistened those thick lips and for a smidgen of a second, his dark eyes looked a tad darker. His gaze was hooded, wrought with lust as much as concern. As if he suddenly had a thought, he jolted forward and stood. “Heck, let’s burn the breeze. Take a ride with me.”

  “That’s not the smartest option right now,” Jock said, returning inside. He handed off his cup to Carla. “Did you pay attention to the posters there? Dead or alive means they’ll probably be coming for us soon.”

  “Which ‘they’ are you referring to?” Frank asked. “If I know your boy, he’s sipping a Brigham Young cocktail and has his sights set on getting all liquored up this morning. After painting Laramie brown with those posters there, he probably feels like it’s only a matter of time before some bounty hunter drags us back pitching fits and making threats.”

  “I won’t argue there,” Jock said. “Knowing Grant, he’s already scheduled a hangin’, too.”

  Frank turned to Heck. “Come to think of it, Jock is right. I’ll speak with the pack on our way out. They’ll be here to help guard the place. Jock, let’s take a ride. If anyone can handle Grant, you can.”

  Carla rushed him. “Don’t do it, Frank. You can’t go to Laramie now. If you grabbed those posters while you were in town this mornin’, folks either didn’t pay attention to a free man walking around at will or they kept you in their sights. They know you’re aware they’re coming for us. That means they’ll be riding out while you’re riding in.”

  “Then I guess we’ll ride with our pistols cocked.” He shot her a wink. “Oh now listen here, honey. We’re counting on trouble, but the good thing about these posters is we’re gonna see danger before it sneaks up on us in the dead of night. We’re ready for it.”

  “Besides, now’s a good time to go if we’re going. Grant is a morning lapper. By the time we reach Laramie, the new marshal will be drinking hard. Those bounty hunters will be riding even harder. No one will ever think to look for us at the jail.”

  “What about Carla?” Heck asked.

  “What about her?” Frank asked, leaning over and kissing her cheek.

  “The locals were tearin’ up Jake, making a terrible racket that is, as they spread the news as fast as they could spread it. Telegraphs were sent out advising others about the large reward offered for the two of you.” Heck frowned. “And Carla has a bounty on her pretty little head, too. Grant wants her alive, but he still wants her.”

  “Yes, I read all about that,” Frank said. “Guess that means you’ll need to pay close attention to Carla today.”

  Carla and Heck locked gazes. She couldn’t tap into his head then and that greatly disturbed her. One of the things she loved about being an Alpha female was her ability to hear her pack members’ thoughts. When she’d first mated with Jock and Frank, they’d told her she wouldn’t be able to hear the other wolves’ thoughts. Turns out, they couldn’t hear hers, but she could listen to them anytime she wanted. The only exception was her mates. They could tap into her mind whenever they saw fit.

  “That won’t be a problem,” Heck muttered, looking away.

  Jock studied Heck with fierce eyes. “I’m starting to believe Grant ain’t the only one who wants our pretty little woman.”

  Jock didn’t miss much. Knowing Jock, that was the only comment he heard when Heck mentioned the bounty on her “pretty little” head.

  “Carla is our mate,” Frank said, giving Jock a solid wallop between the shoulder blades. “And Heck here has already expressed that he and Carla are just friends. If you can’t trust your friends with your woman, who can you trust?”

  Chapter Two

  Grant pushed Daisy’s head to his lap. “That’s it, soiled dove. Yep, Siree! Right about there. Hmm…yeah girlie. That’s what I like.”

  Grant sure was enjoying his second full day as marshal. He grabbed hold of his whiskey glass and jiggled the ice so it would soak up the liquor before he took another swallow. Eyeing the talented gal between his legs, his thoughts inspired an order. “You suck up every drop now, darlin’. Ya hear?”

  “Yes, Marshal,” she muttered, looping her tongue around his cockhead and watching him with pretty blue eyes. “It’s so very important for me to please ya.”

  “It sure is.” He took a hearty drink. “Everybody wants to make the marshal plumb happy. I’ll put ya through the mill and teach ya a thing or two.” He shoved his hips forward and grabbed hold of her head, guiding her up and down on his cock. “Get a wiggle on it, honey. I ain’t got all day to sit here and let ya have your way with me.”

  Daisy bobbed her head up and down, sucking him harder, pulling him tighter against the roof of her mouth. “Hmm. Hmm.”

  The vibrations sent real special sensations up and down his shaft. Another few seconds and he’d be good to go. He rose to his feet and slammed inside her mouth, certain if he didn’t hurry up and finish, he’d be full as a tick. Liquor had a way of spoiling a man’s performance.

  “Not this man,” Grant muttered, daring to think of such negativity.

  Daisy glanced up at him. Her lips were spread as wide as they could go and she fluttered her eyelashes as she used her tongue to caress the underside of his penis.

  “Hmm, yeah, sweet thing. That feels real nice.” He threw his head back and forced his hips forward, loving that extra pulse when her gag reflexes gained some practice.

  Daisy sucked his cock harder as he thrust deeper. He tapped her tonsils and his weighted balls slapped against her tiny chin. She never abandoned him, even when he took a step backward. Her mouth remained committed to the cause. Little Miss Daisy was earning her keep.

  Desperate now for relief, Grant jiggled his hips and hollered, “That’s it, darlin’. Get all you can now. Mak
e it real good for us!”

  To his surprise, Daisy stopped, just came to an abrupt halt. Her cheeks loosened around his shaft and she slowly released him. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Now?” His voice was pitched higher than a squealing woman’s in the middle of labor.

  “Yes,” Daisy replied, using his legs to pull herself up.

  “Well of all the damned-ass rude times to ask a damned-ass question.” Grant released a hard breath. “Well go ahead. Ya done quit the only job ya had. As long as it ain’t one of them there ‘how do you feel about me’ questions, I’ll bend an ear.” He glanced down at his diminishing size. “The damage is already done here anyhow.”

  “I know how you feel about me,” she said, flipping her coal black hair over her shoulder. “But I want you to know how I feel about you.”

  “Far be it for me to tell ya to hobble your lip. You were a-doin’ a bang up job until you decided to find a mind of yer own.”

  “I like you, Marshal Ford. I think the town will do right by ya and you’ll do right by the people here in Laramie, but if you’re gonna keep the whores in business, ya might as well know. We don’t get nothin’ outta suckin’.”

  Grant rubbed his jaw and nodded at the scattered coins on his cluttered desk. “What ’cha call that there, woman?”

  “I don’t mean money, Marshal. I mean in the personal way. We don’t get nothin’ from havin’ a man’s privates in our mouths.”

  “What’s this ‘our’ stuff?” He looked around. “I only see one of ya and I’m a step away from pulling a good bender.” He pointed at the half-full whiskey bottle on his desk. “Another glass of this stuff and I might see three or four of ya. Right now, there’s only one.” Considering her recent declaration, he was glad about that fact.