Werewolf U (6 page)

His muscles relaxed in a rush of released breath. "Good. Thank you, Roberto."

He left silently, as he had done for years.

Since he was my servant here at university.

Sebastian laid his head back, exhausted. All these years, he'd pined away at the loss of his daughter, at the stolen chance to be a father to her. A week with Samara at the periphery of his life, and he wasn't certain how parents survived decades in the role.

* * * *

"Can we do anything for her?" a deep male voice asked.

Samara licked her lips, trying to place it. For that matter, she tried to make sense of where she was and why.

No dice. I can't think of anything, roasting as I am.
She pushed the sheets and blanket away, trying to cool off.

"Tepid water. Bathe her face, arms, legs… Let's bring this fever back down."

"Right."

One soft cloth started at her forehead, worked down her face to her chin, then caressed her throat. Another slid down the inside of one thigh.

Male musk surrounded her and Samara arched up to their touch. There was a moment of stillness, and their scent intensified.

"Get out," one of them ordered.

Footsteps moved away, and a door closed with a click of metal on metal. Water rippled and splashed.

The cloth on her face returned and traced the path down the opposite side. She spread her legs, and the other worked its way from the opposite knee to nearly her core.

All manner of erotic visions paraded through her head.

* * * *

Jason shivered.
Damn, this is hard.
For that matter,
he
was hard and had been for the better part of the week since he'd first scented Samara.
I am getting a ferocious case of blue balls.

Stop thinking about it! This is for her health and safety. Bathe her. Bring down the fever.

That in mind, Jason refreshed his rag and started bathing her head and neck again. Droplets of water fell on her clinic gown, turning the lightweight material translucent.

Samara shifted every time a droplet fell. She gasped at the first time one landed on a nipple.

Jason stared at the erect tip, his breathing ragged.

"Do it." James rasped.

Jason snapped his head around, issuing a silent question. James couldn't be telling him to suck it into his mouth.
Not while Samara is semiconscious.

"Bathe her. Through the shirt. Don't undress her, but help her shed the heat…everywhere."

Which will mean she'll be as good as nude.
He nodded. Samara needed wetting down to reduce the fever.
There's a reason we're doing this instead of the doctors.

Jason left the rag sopping and started working it down her chest. The gown stuck to her body, outlining every curve.

Pass after pass with the rag prompted moans from Samara. She arched her back, offering herself to him.

To us. She's as affected by what James is doing as she is by what I'm doing.
He didn't doubt that.

His cock pressed tight to his jeans, weeping fluids that would ease him inside her body.

Samara cried out and Jason looked toward James's position. His brother had done the same job of wetting Samara down on her lower half. That meant they could see every inch of her, from a front view.

They say Alpha females are created in the Night Mother's image. I know Samara must be.

James leaned over her and Jason prepared to warn him off. No matter how enticing she was, they couldn't take advantage of her blind lust.

His brother didn't put his mouth on her. Instead, he blew air over her core, bringing Samara off the bed with a whimper.

"It's an old trick for keeping cool," James explained. "Wrap yourself in wet linen or cotton, then blow air over the fabric to draw off heat."

Jason swallowed hard. He leaned down and breathed on her throat. Samara shivered, and her scent took on a potent edge. Jason moved on to her shoulders and then her nipples.

She grabbed him by the head and dragged Jason's lips to hers. Samara parted her lips and invited him in.

I can't deny her this.

James didn't protest it. His twin moved up Samara's body, trailing his lips over her abdomen, blowing puffs of air over her sensitive skin.

Jason eased out of the kiss and made way for James to share in the taste of her passion. At the first breath James released against her cheek, Samara turned to him and pulled him into a similar embrace.

Goddess, that's sexy.
Visions of her touching them had his cock screaming for more. Jason reached down and adjusted himself. He seriously considered stroking himself off.

James pushed to his knees. "Help me get her up."

"You're not—"

"No! I want you to bathe her back. Besides…" He smiled. "I want her to feel us on either side of her.

Jason hurried to help him. In moments, Samara was astride James's thighs, Jason sliding his knees between his twin's.

When Jason set to work bathing her back, Samara started shifting back and forth over James's cock. He hurried through the rest of the bathing, watching the curve of her ass appear through the dripping hospital gown. He stared, rapt, at the interplay of muscles as she rode his brother.

At the edges of self-control, Jason pressed to Samara's back. She went still for a moment and he held his breath. Had they pushed her too far too fast?

Samara moaned and pressed back against him, swiveling her hips. James moved closer, and she stroked up and down their erections.

"That's right," James whispered. "Get used to the feeling of us."

"Yes." She breathed her reply into James's chin. She moved faster, grinding into them. "Yes." Samara tensed, and her scent went straight to Jason's head. She shouted incoherently.

She came.
It was all Jason could do not to come in his jeans in response.

"Next time will be inside you," Jason promised.

Samara nodded weakly, her head sinking toward James's chest.

"Do you want us to sleep with you?" Jason offered.
Please, say yes.

Another nod.

Jason lowered her to the bed, then brushed a kiss across her lips. He lay down to her right, facing her on the wide bed.

James did the same, then settled to her left.

Samara cupped a hand over Jason's cock. By the way James tensed, Jason guessed she did the same to his brother.

Oh, yes. She wants us.

Not to mention, she feels cooler.

* * * *

The knock on the door was undoubtedly Roberto again.
It's unlikely to be news about Samara.
Updates had already informed him that her fever had spiked dangerously high but James and Jason had brought it down again. The latest reports were that she was past the danger of complications—her breathing, heart rate, and the swelling in her arm all greatly improved—and sleeping soundly with her mates.

That means it's Marcus's answer. I need to hear it, whatever it is.
But he admitted to himself that the idea of killing one or more of his pack members exhausted him.

"Yes?"

"Marcus has returned, Sebastian."

"Show him up."

Sebastian went through the formality of moving to his desk.

Roberto showed Marcus in and closed the door behind him.

One look at the younger wolf gave testament to the fact that Marcus's evening had been no less stressful than his own.

Marcus took a step toward the desk and held out a small wooden chest to him. "My sincerest apologies, Alpha."

He took it carefully, set it on his desk, then opened it. Inside were another three Hunter's Fangs, along with what appeared to be a similar weapon, shaped as a set of brass knuckles with a smaller blade at the far end.

"Dear Goddess." Sebastian choked the words out, past the lump in his throat and the stomach acid rising.

Marcus went to his knees. "My daughter assures me that is all of them, but I will have everything of my father's searched again to make sure there are not more hiding places we have missed. I have also alerted my sister to do the same."

He raised his face to look at Sebastian. "She didn't know what they were. By the Night Mother, she could have killed herself with a nick of the blade." He took in a deep but halting breath. "Christiana gave me everything and let me determine what was a hunter's weapon and what was not. I fear other young wolves may not know any more than Christiana did. Who knows how many are in danger and don't know it."

Sebastian nodded wearily. "I have already told Pietro and the other Alpha Maestros to have a required class about it this week, and I will be making another proclamation on the matter."

"We await your judgment, Alpha."

I don't have the heart to kill them.
Admitting it made him feel weak.

"Take your daughter home. Search for more weapons. Spread the word that anyone caught with Hunter's Fangs, from this day forth, will face death for it. My daughter will live. So will yours. This time." He let the threat hang between them.

"There will never be another incident," Marcus vowed. "Thank you, Alpha. Your consideration is more than I dared hope for."

"Go on. It has been a long night for all of us."

He scrambled to his feet, bowed, then made his way to the door. The nod he sent before he walked out let Sebastian know he'd won the loyalty of Marcus's line, as long as they remembered this day.

Chapter Five

Samara shifted in bed, stretching her arms and back. She went still at the feeling of bare skin under her hand. Not her own skin but rather that of someone else in bed with her. The crisp hairs and ridges of muscle attested that it was a man.

This is new.
A twitter of laughter stuck in her throat and she swallowed it down.

Okay. Before I panic, retrace my movements. How did I get here?

Christiana attacked me with a dagger. Those gorgeous brothers who live downstairs showed up. Jason wrapped his shirt around my arm.

Everything after that was a fevered blur. A not unpleasant one though. Someone was bathing her.

With my clothes still on? No, not
my
clothes, but clothes.

Touching led to kissing. The delicious feeling of two men pressing on either side of her, their cocks hard and long against her skin.

Through clothing.
Samara corrected herself.

Movement on both sides of Samara prompted a gasp from her. Dual groans answered her.

Lips pressed to the back of her shoulder and Samara trembled in arousal. A second set of lips nestled to her throat.

"W-wait," she pleaded.

They both pulled back slightly, and Samara focused on the one in front of her.

"James?" She vaguely remembered learning their names before she passed out. Were they the ones who bathed her? Why wasn't she in a hospital?

"And Jason." The one behind her grumbled his response, his voice husky in what she didn't doubt was arousal.

The bed was nearly as wide as the one in her rooms, but this room wasn't hers. Instead of dark, masculine colors, it was decorated in shades of pale peach, blue, green, and butter yellow with almond accents for the trim. There were blinds on the windows instead of curtains.

"Samara?" James prompted her.

"Where am I?"

"The school clinic."

Okay. Not their room, but still… The clinic allowed
this
?

James cupped her cheek in one large, rough hand. "It looks like your fever has broken."

"So…um…you won't have to bathe me again." She only just stopped herself from making it a question.
It shouldn't
be
a question.

He smiled. "You remember that?"

Her cheeks flushed in heat. Oh, yes. She remembered it.

James raised one hand in a Scout promise motion. "I promise we won't bathe you again, unless you want us to."

Jason chuckled darkly, and Samara's nipples came to hard points. Memories of one of them stroking them made them harder.

Jason purred in her ear. "Oh, she wants."

Samara straightened, certain she should be offended at their familiar address. "I don't know precisely what happened when you bathed me, but I know I wasn't myself."

James raised one eyebrow and scanned a blatant look down her body between them. "Are you now?"

"Am I what?"

"Are you yourself?"

His teasing tone irritated her. "What kind of question is that? Of course I am."

"Really? Because your scent, those perky little nipples, your eyes and lips… All of them say you would like to see where a night with us would go."

The protest stuck in her throat.
Damn him! I do want to know.

I don't have to tell
him
that.

A knock at the door saved her from figuring out how to answer him.

"Come in." James shouted out the invitation as if he had not a care in the world.

Samara stared at him, shocked to wide-mouthed silence. They thought they were just going to stay in bed with her?

Two men in white, medical coats bustled in, carrying an armload of supplies each.

"Ah, excellent. You're awake." The dark-haired one punctuated the statement with a glance up and down her body.

"And her fever has broken," Jason added.

"Wonderful." The doctor placed the jars and bottles he was carrying on a rolling tray. "My name is Benjamin. That is Steven." He motioned toward the other doctor.

"Thank you both." Samara searched for how to phrase her question. "But…ah…"
Sure. How do I say it? Why aren't you reacting to these two men sharing a bed with me?

Benjamin stopped to stare at her. "But?"

"Nothing."

"You really should thank James and Jason." Steven's comment sounded like a correction. "Their early care and their speed in getting you here made our job much easier."