N. Walters - Isaiah's Haven

He, on the other hand, only had to yank on his T-shirt and zip and button his jeans and he looked fine.

Very fine.

She couldn’t help staring at the way he filled out his clothing. Very nice indeed.

Then she noticed he was staring at her. She shrugged and pulled up the straps of her bra and pulled on her panties. Isaiah leaned against the door, his flannel shirt bunched in his hands, and watched her every move.

Knowing that, she made a production of sliding her jeans over her thighs and wiggling her butt to make sure her panties weren’t bunched. His eyes narrowed and he licked his lips.

She tugged her sweater on, smoothing the clingy fabric over her breasts and torso. Raising her arms, she eased her braid free from the neck of the sweater. The bulge in Isaiah’s jeans wasn’t getting any smaller.

“Tease.”

“You better believe it.” After the way she’d melted under his touch, it felt good to know she wasn’t the only one so deeply affected by the physical connection that pulsed between them.

Taking her hair down, she smoothed it with her fingers and then swiftly braided it again. Isaiah muttered a curse, turned away and yanked on his shirt.

They both knew time had run out and their interlude was over. Meredith yanked on her shoes and pulled up the documents on her computer, hitting several more keys before sending the email she’d been working on when he’d come in.

Satisfied she’d done all she could to protect their financial assets in the event they had to move fast, she shut down the computer.

Isaiah waited as she worked. There was no sense of impatience from him. Only a rock-solid certainty that he would do whatever needed to be done.

She had the same resolve. She’d protect her children and Isaiah, no matter the cost.

She came out from behind her desk and paused in front of him. “Let’s go.”

He inclined his head, opened the door and followed her out to the bar where the rest of her pack waited.

Adams was a patient hunter, but he found even his patience was being tested. There were two females in that club according to the information they’d received. Whether or not they were pure werewolf remained to be seen. He wanted a female of his own. If she had a mate, he’d simply kill him and take the female for himself. Providing of course she wasn’t a half-breed. No kid of his was going to be born with weak human blood in his veins.

Beside him Briggs and Spencer stirred. The three of them were hunkered down on a rooftop watching the bar just up the street. He shot them a glare and they settled back down to wait.

Haven looked like a popular spot. Adams only hoped they weren’t wasting their time. Like most werewolves, he hated being in the city. It was too noisy, too crowded and stank of humans. He much preferred running free in the woods or the mountains.

Briggs sighed and glanced at his watch. “Not much longer now.”

Adams kept his gaze on the building he was watching. Too much was at stake. He didn’t trust bounty hunters any further than he could throw them. Okay, maybe not a good comparison. He could probably heave a human quite a distance if he chose to.

This would either be a trap, in which case the hunters were dead men. Or they would find others of their kind. Those who were pure blood could live. Those who weren’t…

Adams rolled his shoulders and flexed the muscles in his arms. He was more than ready for a fight. Whatever they found, they would come out the winners. He’d never lost a fight and had no intentions of starting now. Especially not with a bunch of hunters or half-breeds. His lips peeled back and he snarled. Half-breeds were a fucking insult to his species. The only good one was a dead one.

He couldn’t wait for the club to close for the night.

Meredith heaved a sigh of relief when the doors to the club finally closed for the night. All of them had been on edge and the anxious mood had permeated the place. Even the patrons had sensed something was wrong. People had talked in hushed voices and even the band had been subdued. Haven was almost empty long before the last call for the bar usually went out, so they’d closed a half hour early. No one had complained and no one had lingered.

She’d taken all of her pack aside, one by one, during the course of the night, filling them in on their latest problem. None of them were happy.

Isaiah had sat in the back of the club. Watchful. Like a knight at the gate of the castle, not willing to relinquish his post until the threat had passed. They’d have to talk eventually. But there was no time for that now.

A sound near the back caught her attention and she turned, sucking in a breath. Benjamin leaned against the wall, Neema at his side. He looked pale, but surprisingly good for a male who’d been shot with a silver bullet less than twenty-four hours before.

“You shouldn’t be up yet.” She hurried toward her son and opened her arms wide. He might be thirty-five years old and almost six inches taller than her, but he was still her baby.

His arms closed around her. “Neema told me what was going on. We need all of us ready to fight.”

Everything inside her protested even though she knew he was right. Three highly trained werewolves against her young, inexperienced pack weren’t great odds. Hank was the only one of them who had real combat training, but that was in the human army, and she was pretty sure they didn’t teach fighting techniques to use against werewolves. The rest of them relied on their preternatural speed and strength to get them out of sticky situations. That wasn’t going to be an advantage this time. Not against mature, battle-scared males.

The only one who truly seemed to know what they were up against was Isaiah. She released her son, giving him a peck on the cheek and a final worried look before turning to her lover. “What do we do?”

The rest of the pack had gathered around them. Teague and Hank appeared stunned by her question. The last thing they’d expected was for her to defer to Isaiah. But she was smart enough to know she didn’t have the experience he had when it came to fighting.

She’d mostly run. And any fighting had been against bounty hunters. Ruthless killers, for sure, but human nonetheless.

Michael appeared thoughtful, and Kevin was his usual laidback self.

Isaiah pushed out of his chair and stood, his massive body and sheer presence dominating the room. He prowled forward in a deceptively lazy lope. She knew the wolf in him was watching and listening for any sign of trouble. He could easily erupt into motion at any given second, attacking without warning.

She licked her lips as memories of their earlier encounter threatened to swamp her. He was also sneaky as hell and a walking, talking advertisement for sex. The male oozed sex appeal without even trying.

He stopped in front of her, his body barely touching hers. She swayed closer as his scent, his heat, surrounded her. “You should all pack up and leave. I can handle this.” The low rumble of his voice made her skin tingle.

God, she didn’t know whether to kiss him or slap him. He was so macho, so much the lone wolf. Yet he was incredibly protective. He’d barely known them all a week and he was ready to put his life on the line for them. For her.

“You know I can’t do that. This is my pack.”

His nostrils flared and she knew he could feel her nipples puckering, pressing against his chest. They both tried to ignore it. One corner of his mouth quirked up. “I figured that, but it was worth a try.”

“What do we do?” Michael stepped forward, diffusing some of the sexual tension swirling between her and Isaiah.

The heat pulsing through her was replaced by sheer icy terror. Once again, her pack was under attack. This time the threat was being brought straight to their front door.