Bad Boy Alphas Starter Set: Shifter Romance Books 1-3 Read online

  “There’s food in the cabinets. I’ll bring you things so you don’t have to get up.”

  He leaves and returns with a loaf of bread and peanut butter and jelly, along with a can of oysters. “I wish I had a painkiller to offer you, but shifters don’t use them.”

  Shifters. It’s still setting in, but now that it has, it makes him all the more fascinating and attractive. No wonder I’d had a teen crush on Jackson King. He is superhuman.

  “I’m really sorry about freaking out. I’m embarrassed. I wish we could have a do-over, and I’ll be uber cool about it. Can we try?”

  A reluctant smile tugs at Jackson’s lips. “How would it go?”

  “I’d be like, oh, you’re a werewolf. That’s cool. Don’t forget the condom.”

  A shadow descends over his face, perhaps at the reminder of the condom mishap. “I’m bad for you,” he says tightly. “This...can’t work.”

  Something tightens in my solar plexus. I want to grab him and tell him I’m not afraid, but he snatches me first, stamps his lips over mine, twisting over my mouth with an intensity I find dizzying.

  I sense the desperation in the kiss.

  The goodbye.

  “Don’t message me. I don’t want anyone to trace you through me. I’ll be back tonight. As soon as I can. Do you want me to send Sam up to check on you?”

  I shake my head, swallowing down my disappointment. “No, I’m solid. I will keep working on the malware. Jackson?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Why haven’t they contacted me if my grandmother’s still alive?”

  He frowns. “Maybe they’re hanging onto her in case they need more leverage on you?”

  I shake my head. “No, they leaked my history to the press. This was definitely a frame.”

  He touches my shoulder, and I swear I feel his strength transferring into me, warming me. “I don’t know, but my gut says she’s alive, too.”

  He kisses me again and shucks the jeans. His cock is still hard, mouth-wateringly impressive.

  I watch this time as he transforms. There’s a shimmer in the air and then he drops to all fours, a huge, beautiful wolf. I dare to stretch a hand out to touch his fur, and he licks it then licks the wound on my knee clean. It tingles. I remember a doctor in Mexico recommending I get a dog to lick a cut on my hand to make it heal faster. My dad and I had laughed at Third World medicine, but, of course, I’d researched it later, and there is something to it. I wonder if a werewolf’s saliva is even better?

  I stroke his silky ears. I want to bury my hands in his fur, but he spins and trots toward the kitchen. I hear the swing of what must be a dog door and he’s gone.

  So. Jackson King is a werewolf.

  Now I know.

  I’m surprised at how protective I feel over his secret. I will work even harder to straighten everything out at SeCure now that I know the company’s brilliant CEO is as vulnerable to being exposed as I was.

  ~.~

  Jacqueline

  Jacqueline opens her gritty eyes, blinking against the morning sun. Still in the desert. Still in human form. She drags herself to her feet and checks out the angle of the sun. It is rising over the far mountain range, which means the Catalinas. So she’s in the Tucson Mountains on the west side. Probably out in Marana somewhere, where the crackheads cook their meth.

  She isn’t the only one who knows how to research things online. Her Minette thinks she’s only capable of making soup…

  Minette.

  She starts walking east. Her gait is clumsy at first, but after a dozen steps, her coordination returns. Her sensitive hearing detects the sound of cars in the distance. Dieu merci. Too bad she’s covered in blood. It will make it hard to explain if she flags down a car.

  If only she could shift.

  She drops to all fours and closes her eyes, willing herself to shift. The trouble is, she hasn’t shifted often enough in recent years. To stay nimble, shifters must shift back and forth as nature calls. A shifter who stays too long in beast form, will forget how to become human again, and vice versa. Living with Minette, her halfling granddaughter who never manifested as a shifter, she wasn’t able to run wild as often as she’d like. Especially when they were hiding in cities. Now, weak, hungry, and injured, it is even harder to call up the magic.

  Remember. Remember what it’s like. She thinks about her first shift at puberty, the joy of chasing her sister through the French countryside. There.

  The magic shimmers around her. She stops to pull off her bloodied clothes so she won’t have to fight them after the shift and transformation. Now, to stay hidden from human eyes as she runs downtown. At least she remembers the way.

  Garrett showed her a map of their territory on the west side once. His pack runs in Saguaro National Park West. Close to downtown and his headquarters. All she has to do is follow the Santa Cruz riverbed south.

  ~.~

  Jackson

  I walk into the office like a fucking gladiator. Every employee who sees me takes one look and averts their eyes. Even humans know to submit when the dominant is out for blood.

  “The FBI is in with Mr. Anderson, sir,” Vanessa says, pointing toward my CFO’s office. Luis is in there, too. I already knew this from the fifteen phone conversations on my drive in, but I give her a curt nod.

  No one from SeCure has admitted to leaking the information about Kylie, which could mean she’s right, it came from her blackmailers. Although the blackmailers could be on the inside, too.

  I can’t stop the prickly awareness that there’s still more to this attack we haven’t seen. Would a hacker go to the trouble of kidnapping an old lady and framing someone for less than a million account numbers? Maybe. But it was risky. I don’t know how much money they managed to divert, but their window was short. We closed it on them yesterday.

  I march into Anderson’s office and take a chair. My executive team is sweating. This is more pressure than I’ve ever put them through, and it’s not nearly over yet.

  Luis has given the feds Kylie’s file and is bobbing his head up and down, agreeing with something they’re saying.

  He looks over. “Mr. King, the FBI have their own infosec team they’d like to deploy on our system.”

  I nod. “Good. Show them the breach and everything we’ve done to shore it up.”

  One of the agents stands and hold out his hand. “Special Agent Douglas.”

  I shake it. “Jackson King.”

  “Mr. King, I understand you were asking questions about Kylie McDaniel before the breach. Did you have reason to suspect her?”

  I go for the truth. If Douglas is smart enough, he’ll follow my logic. If not, we’re no worse off than before. “Actually, I was wondering how she got hired into the position. The assumption was she was a hacker, but nothing on her resume would have told us that. I wanted to know who flagged her for this position and why.”

  “You think she has a partner on the inside?”

  I shrug. “Maybe. Something’s off with this whole thing, and it’s more than a twenty-four-year-old hacker who called herself Catgirl as a teen.”

  “She’s long been associated with vigilante thieves. This could be an organized attack from that direction.”

  I consider the man. He seems sharp. “Mr. Douglas, I’d like to share some information with you in private.”

  My team looks outraged, but I stand and walk to the door, knowing Douglas will follow. I take him to my office and toss the packet Kylie brought to me the night everything started.

  “Ms. McDaniel turned herself into me after she received this,” I explain.

  Douglas shuffles through the papers, assimilating the information quickly. “But she still installed the code. From your office, I understand.”

  I rub my forehead. “Yes. I brought her into my office the next day and asked her to decode the malware on an un-networked computer.”

  “But she used the opportunity to load it onto yours.”

  “Yes.”

&
nbsp; “So what do you think happened?” He holds up the packet. “This was a ploy to get into your office? Save herself the trouble of having to hack through your firewalls?”

  I shake my head. “No. She contacted me later to tell me her grandmother had been kidnapped and was being held hostage. The grandmother wasn’t returned after she loaded the malware, so she offered her help.”

  “Contacted you how?” he asked sharply.

  This is where it gets dicey. I sure as hell don’t want them looking for Kylie at my place or around me. “She was waiting for me in the parking lot.”

  “The hacker who took down your system was waiting for you in the parking lot, and you didn’t call the police? Something’s definitely off with this story, Mr. King. What aren’t you telling me?”

  The need to protect Kylie makes anger curl in my stomach. I don’t answer.

  “Oh, I get it. You have a thing for Ms. McDaniel, don’t you?” There’s no missing the note of scorn in his voice. “I heard the two of you were trapped in the elevator together on her first morning. Think that was a coincidence?”

  A chink of doubt sticks in my chest. Would Kylie orchestrate such a thing? Why? To get close to me? Seduce me?

  But no, her terror in that elevator had been real. No claustrophobic woman would choose an elevator to stage a seduction.

  I pace the office, shoving my hands into my pockets.

  “So she met you in the parking lot and offered to help. What did you do?”

  “I let her go.” I’m facing away from Douglas, staring out the full length window. Lying isn’t my forte, and I don’t like the dishonor of it, but I’ll do anything to protect my mate.

  Fuck. Not my mate. Can’t be my mate.

  “Bullshit. Where is she, Mr. King?”

  My fingers tighten into fists. “She’s trying to find her grandmother,” I snap.

  He stares at me a long moment. “Okay,” he says finally. “We’ll follow up on that lead.”

  I force my teeth to unclench.

  “And when you’re ready to tell me where to find your mysterious Catgirl, ”I’ll be waiting.” He tosses a card on my desk. “My cell phone is on there.”

  I nod.

  He picks up the packet. “All right for me to take this?”

  I’m surprised he asks for permission, but it’s probably just a courtesy.

  “Yes. Let me know what you find on the grandmother.”

  He pauses on his way to the door. “Am I working for you Mr. King?”

  I clear my throat. It’s not in my nature to grovel, so this makes twice today. Once to Kylie, once for her. “Please.”

  The ghost of a smile plays around his lips. “I’ll keep you posted.”

  I sink into my chair when he leaves. The alpha in me wants to tear things apart and howl.

  The moon is full. My company’s under attack. My female’s in danger. A human knows my secret, which means by pack law I must do something about her. And while telling Kylie should have ended our relationship—now that she understands why we can’t be together—my wolf won’t stop seeing her as my goddamn mate.

  ~.~

  Ginrummy

  The plan is unfolding. Kylie hacked SeCure and installed his code. That much worked. As did the leak to the press to get the FBI onto her. He didn’t care whether the FBI found her or not—the point was just to throw them off his trail.

  Mr. X said they took care of her grandmother. He didn’t ask what that meant. He knew.

  Time to issue the next blackmail threat. He shifts around in his seat, heat building under his collar. The feds are all over the building, and everyone is talking about the private meeting King had with one of the agents.

  What in the hell did it mean? What could King have to say to the agent that he wouldn’t say in front of his executive team?

  He doesn’t like it.

  He spent all morning answering the same questions about Kylie four times to different agents. Now, he’s supposed to give them access to the SeCure system so their infosec people can do their own investigations.

  He has nothing to hide. Kylie uploaded the malware; his IP or prints aren’t on anything.

  He checks his phone. A message has come through from Mr. X.

  Making the call to King, now.

  A muscles twitches in his cheek. This is the part of Mr. X’s plan that goes way beyond cybersecurity and credit card numbers.

  They’re making a play to take down the entire company. The credit card number theft was a diversion from the true infection into backup data, which granted the X team the capacity to wipe out every record stored by SeCure. So asking SeCure to transfer five hundred million dollars to restore the files won’t be too much. If successful, it will be the biggest ransomware attack in history. If not, they already stole a half billion in credit card transactions.

  ~.~

  Kylie

  At dusk, I limp to the shower to clean up before Jackson shows. He hasn’t contacted me all day, and I’m itchy to see him. To touch him. My body feels achy from the sex and my run up the mountain, but all I can think about is having Jackson’s hands on me, having him take me roughly the way he wants to—biting me and marking me as his own. It’s like the full moon has affected me, too.

  The scrapes on my knee look a week old instead of a day. I guess werewolf saliva is better than dog spit.

  I spent the day hacking into multiple credit card company sites to get the data on the stolen card numbers. By my estimate, around five hundred million dollars was stolen in the twenty-four hours before the owners were notified and cards frozen. It must have been all automated. Using the small vendors’ merchant accounts stolen, they charged random amounts under a few thousand dollars on each credit card. Again, it suggests an insider, someone who knew what data they would find and how it would be configured in order to have pre-programmed such a complex formula.

  With no contact from Jackson—although his reasons for limiting it are sound—emptiness sets in. He doesn’t think he can be with me. He wants to—I know that much—but he believes he’ll harm me.

  I’m not afraid, though. He pulled back when I screamed. Went to his belly, even when I gave chase. He has way more control than he believes. And I’m not afraid of being marked. In fact, the idea thrills me. Maybe this is why ordinary men never interested me. I needed a superhuman.

  I want to know everything about his shifter life. What it’s like, how it works. What happens on the full moon. Which is tonight.

  The bathroom door opens and closes, and my heart picks up speed. Through the foggy glass door of the shower, I see Jackson’s wide frame. “Jackson?”

  A moment later, he slides open the shower door. He’s naked, his sheathed erection even more pronounced than it was this morning. Blue eyes burn from his face. His hands ball into fists at his side, his expression dark, furious. Hungry.

  I catch my breath. “Jackson?” My voice wobbles.

  He steps into the shower with me. I half expect to see elongated fangs when he opens his mouth, and I tense, not sure whether I’m going to let him mark me or not.

  “I’ve wanted to fuck you in the shower since the night you first showed up at my house.” His voice is low and gravelly. “You think I didn’t see you touching yourself through that fogged-up glass door?”

  A shiver of pure desire runs through me, shooting down my inner thighs, curling my toes.

  He catches my wrists and spins me to face the shower wall. His touch is reverent as he presses my palms against the tile. “New rule,” he murmurs in my ear. “You don’t touch that pussy without my permission. Understand?”

  I don’t, but I’m too turned on to speak.

  “I need to hear a yes, sir.”

  “Yes, sir.” The words slip out of me before I even know I’m going to speak them. Heat blooms in my core at the bossy edict.

  “Do you know why?” His voice is like a rumbling purr in my ear.

  “N-no.”

  He reaches around to cup my
mons, sliding two fingers along my wet slit. “This pussy belongs to me. I get to pleasure it. My job. Got it?”

  Oh Jesus, fuck. My legs tremble from desire. I can’t do anything but moan my assent.

  “Good girl.” He rewards me with a quick shimmy of the pad of his finger over my clit.

  My knees buckle, but it doesn’t matter, because he wraps an arm around my waist, catching me and holding me up as he penetrates me with two fingers. I throw my head back on his shoulder and close my eyes, lost in the ecstasy of his touch, his heat.

  “You left me blue-balled this morning, kitten.”

  I cry out as he grinds the heel of his hand over my clit.

  “I’m going to have to punish you, now.”

  “Yes,” I breathe. Punish me. Fuck me. Keep me as your plaything. I want to be owned by Jackson. Marked by him, no matter how much it hurts.

  He pulls his hand away from the notch between my thighs, and I moan with disappointment. “Ass out, baby.”

  I immediately obey, pushing my ass backward for his punishment.

  He slaps it, and I shriek. The water makes it sting so much harder; the tile makes the crack of his palm echo. He spanks my other cheek then repeats, right and left. I’m in heaven, the cacophony of sensations—the water of the shower, the pain of his spanks, the pleasure of his touch all mingle to bring me right to the edge of orgasm.

  Jackson groans. “Fates, I love spanking you. I ought to take a belt to your ass for the state you left me in today.” His voice is a deep rumble that seems to enter my body through every pore.

  When I don’t disagree, he curses. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, kitten, you won’t be able to walk right. Then you’ll remember who this pussy belongs to.”

  I steal a glance over my shoulder, checking for fangs. The domination is hot, but it’s also way over the top, tonight, and I’m not sure if he’s in control. When I shift my weight, the pain in my ankle twinges.

  Jackson surges forward and catches under the thigh of my hurt leg, hoisting my knee up to the tile wall. His body molds against my back, the head of his cock prodding my entrance. “Are you okay, baby?” His lips brush my ear as he speaks.