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“Doesn’t he think he ought to check with me about that?” asked Emery, recovering.
“No,” said Carson with a grin. “To quote him, he’s a cave lion, deal with it.”
And she did and they lived happily ever after—not without a few hiccups and a lot of battles, but in the end, they were together and that was all that mattered.
EPILOGUE
Cullen
Kenai Gentlemen’s Club
Kenai, Alaska
Cullen Manchester, the reigning Alpha of the Ghost Moon Pack, was indulging an itch he’d needed scratching for far too long. But being alpha meant being careful about who you had scratch that itch, and the she-wolves in his pack were—as far as he was concerned—off limits. The city of Kodiak was closer to Otter Cove and the Aleutian Range than Kenai, but he liked the vibe of Kenai better. Besides, Kodiak didn’t have a gentlemen’s club where he could indulge his more prurient interests. True, he couldn’t bite any of the females who serviced him or drive his knot up into them, but for the most part the girls who worked in the club were accommodating.
He raised a bottle of Alaskan Smoked Porter to his lips and drank deeply. The dark, robust body and prominent smoky flavor of the limited-edition beer was a particular favorite of his. It was produced in limited annual vintages and the club kept enough on hand to accommodate its members. Some likened it to fine wine as it aged in each bottle. Cullen liked it for its pitch-black color. There were those who said it matched the color of his heart.
Maybe it did.
But after piloting a long flight in his Cirrus SF50 Vision Jet, what he needed more than anything was a cold beer, a good cigar, and the release only a female with a talented mouth or tight pussy could provide. As he wanted to sip his brew and enjoy his limited-edition cigar, he’d opted for a blowjob instead of good fuck. The beer he could get back at his home nestled in the Aleutian Range, but neither the cigar nor the female was. He had to come to the club to indulge in those two.
Cullen had longish blonde hair and pale golden eyes. He was an investment analyst by trade—one of the most sought after and highly paid—but no one would even guess it if they passed him on the street. He rarely left his home, Ghost Moon Manor, and never ventured to the Lower 48. He didn’t own a business suit and could most often be found in button-fly jeans and boots with a hoodie, sweater or flannel shirt. He had a mustache and goatee, with a kind of permanent five o’clock stubble.
For Cullen the best distraction from the burden of being alpha and ensuring his pack did not get drawn into the Resistance was to kick back, settle his tall, muscular frame into one of the club chairs in front of the fire, and let a submissive woman enjoy herself taking care of his needs. It was a mutual exchange, but not for money. He got the release he needed, and she found pleasure and satisfaction in servicing him.
She was pretty enough and licked his cock in long swipes, swirling her tongue around the broad head of his staff before enveloping it with her mouth. Cullen groaned. She was good and he placed his hand on the back of her head.
“Deeper,” he rumbled, liking how he could scent an uptick in her arousal.
Taking a deep breath, she sucked his hard length down. Cullen didn’t know who’d taught her to suck cock, but she had obviously applied herself to learning, and whoever it was had done a damn fine job. He closed his eyes and let her go to town on him, running her tongue down the sensitive underside of his cock. He fisted her hair, deepening the connection between them and directing her to give him the rhythm and pace he desired. She moaned, sending the vibrations all along his length, and he could feel his cock swelling.
As the pressure for release began to increase, he stilled her head, watching his cock as it disappeared in and out of her mouth as he used it for his pleasure. He pressed deep, working his way down to the soft, velvety place at the back of her throat. As he did, she swallowed and he began pouring his cum into her belly. Heaven, or as damn close as he was likely to get.
When he finished, he leaned back, enjoying the sensation as she licked him clean before placing his cock back in his jeans and buttoning them up.
“That was lovely,” he said.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it; I know I did,” she said, a blush staining her cheeks.
That was the thing about human females: so many of them didn’t indulge their deeply sensual nature and need for someone to give them direction to follow their inclination to submit and serve a dominant male. And while no one would guess he worked in international finance, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Cullen was an alpha male.
* * *
Salem
Federal Bureau of Investigation
Seattle, Washington
Salem Hubbard sat outside the office of her FBI supervisor, waiting for the ax to fall. He’d warned her time and time again about liaising and sharing information with the local cops. Salem thought the whole ‘turf war’ and posturing between feds and locals was stupid and unproductive. Besides, it wasn’t like she’d given Dani Morris classified information. Dani was a childhood friend and they’d stayed in touch over the years. When Dani had called looking for background info on a suspect, Salem had given it to her.
Word around the office was her boss was looking to get rid of her. He didn’t like female agents in general and Salem in particular. She couldn’t blame him. Salem refused to play his bullshit games or put up with his chauvinistic attitude. She wasn’t worried. Dani had already talked with her boss at Seattle PD and there was a job waiting for Salem if she needed it.
“Hubbard!” her supervisor shouted through the door, making his secretary wince. “Get your ass in here.”
Slowly, Salem stood, shaking her head and letting her body come back online after sitting for more than an hour waiting. “I see he’s in a cheerful mood,” she said as she walked by the secretary and opened the door to his office.
“You’ve really done it this time,” the short, paunchy, balding bureaucrat said to her. He didn’t look sorry at all. In fact, he looked almost gleeful. Looking at the man he’d become, she wondered if he’d ever been a field agent.
