She slumped over the sofa, breathing hard. God, the guy was good. It was like he’d taken a crash course on how to play her body or something.
Zander hummed against her neck. “I needed that.”
She snorted. “You say that like you’ve gone without sex for months. We had it this morning.”
“And you’ve been parading those legs in front of me all morning and afternoon.”
Her head snapped up. “Parading?”
“Yeah, parading.” Pulling out of her, he helped her straighten and then turned her to face him. “I love seeing your eyes all sex-drunk.”
She chuckled. “Sex-drunk?” Well, she kind of liked seeing his gaze the way it was now . . . all lazy and languid. “I need to clean up.”
“Bathroom’s upstairs.”
Once they were done and they’d righted their clothing, Zander said, “I’m going to pack my stuff so we can leave. Sit. Relax. Or go take a look around—whatever you want. I won’t be long.”
Deciding to wait downstairs so that they wouldn’t end up testing the endurance of the bedsprings, Gwen crossed to the recliner and sank into it with a groan. Oh yeah, it was as comfy as it looked.
Sprawled there, she read the spines of the books that were lined up neatly on the oak shelf, but she soon found her eyes drifting shut. Maybe it was that she felt safe here. Maybe it was that it had been a long morning and afternoon. Whatever it was that made her feel so relaxed that she could just nap, she wished she could bottle it up.
Sometime later, she felt a tug on her braid and opened her eyes. “How do you move without making a sound? I have to know.”
Duffel in hand, Zander pulled her out of the recliner and drew her close. “Training.” He pressed a kiss to her mouth, breathing in her scent—there was still a slight spice of need to it, and it shot straight to his cock. Fuck. “Ready?” She nodded. “Then let’s go get Bracken.”
“I was thinking that . . . Never mind.”
“Thinking what?”
She waved a hand. “Nothing. It’s fine.”
“Gwen, finish the sentence.” Before he went insane.
“Really, forget it.”
“Tell me.”
She lifted her shoulders. “But it doesn’t matter.”
“Just fucking tell me what you were going to say.”
“Jesus, Zander, I hope there’s a way to block you in real life because you’re a pain in my ass.” She held up her hand when he went to argue. “I’ll pencil in some time to hear you whine about it later. Let’s just go.”
He breathed deep. “Fine.”
They were walking to the door when her cell phone rang. Gwen halted when she saw the identity of the caller. “It’s Geena.”
Zander’s brow creased. “Answer it.”
She swiped her thumb over the screen. “Hey.”
“I heard you were hurt last night,” said Geena. She wasn’t much for pleasantries. “Are you okay? What happened?”
Gwen frowned. “I’m fine. How did you find out?”
“One of Dad’s contacts called—the guy’s friends with Ezra Moore. Apparently Ezra found out that Kenny’s your father, and he wants him to talk to you about going before the shifter council and ask you to see reason.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised that Ezra dug into my past, given that he very easily obtained my bank-account details and all that shit.” Gwen told her about the goshawk assault, smiling at the string of curses her sister let loose. “The Moores have to be behind it.”
“Probably,” said Geena with a weary sigh. “Dad plans to contact you to set up a meeting. You should know that he thinks he can talk you out of speaking against Brandt.”
Gwen narrowed her eyes. “He can’t.”
“I know that. You know that. But maybe you should let him believe that he can.”
Pride made her bristle at that. “Hell, no.”
“I get that it would be hard to act like you’re bowing down to his greatness, but it would be harder to deal with constant attacks from the Moores. Pretend to fold. Agree to cooperate. Then go before the council and tell them the fucking truth. But if you’re going to tell the truth, you need to be sure you’re ready for what comes next.”
Gwen rubbed her temple. “Someone offered to put me in a safe house.”
“It won’t make any difference. They’ll just go after your foster family to flush you out of hiding.” There was a pause as voices mumbled in the background. “I’ve got to go,” said Geena quietly. “Call me if you need me. And be careful.”
“You too.” Gwen looked up at Zander. “Did you hear any of that?”
He nodded. Neither Zander nor his wolf wanted Gwen anywhere near Kenny. “Your sister’s right. It might be a good idea to let him believe he’s talked you out of it. I’d say he’s arrogant enough to think that you’ll give in to him.”
“He is, but it will gall me to let the Moores believe they’ve made me cower.”
Zander smoothed his hands up and down her arms. “Yeah, but just think how much fun it will be when Brandt goes to that hearing feeling smug as all shit . . . only to then sit there and listen to you tell the truth.”
Gwen couldn’t help grinning as she imagined the look on Brandt’s face. “He will hate that.”
“Of course he will. No one likes being tricked. And if he believes you are going to change your statement, he won’t do anything stupid like run before the hearing. In a sense, you’d be setting a trap for him.”
“And he’s arrogant enough to walk right into it.”
“Exactly.” Zander kissed her. “You’ll get the last laugh, baby. Do what you gotta do to get it.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Zander stretched across the table and took his shot. There was a loud, satisfying smack as the white ball connected with another. Straightening, he watched the second ball smoothly roll across the table and then tumble into a corner pocket. Zander’s mouth curved.
Derren tossed him an aggravated look, gripping his cue stick. “I hate playing pool with people better than me.”
Sitting on a high stool, watching the game, Ally snorted. “You’re such a sore loser.”