Chapter 1

Ikissed my temporary boss, Kennedy Fergason, hard. A teeth-clinking kind of kiss. She liked it rough and gave as good as she got, one of the thrilling things about having sex with her, even if she was only human.

Or it had been, until three days ago, before a certain asshole dire wolf shifter had the balls to stride up to me and tell me we're fated mates. He sprung it on me at a mutual friend's going-away party. Talk about killing the moment.

And fated mates? The hell? Raven shifters don't have fated mates. We rarely even went through with an actual mating, preferring the human custom of marrying. But fated mates? Only wolves seemed to embrace that fairytale shit. And Michael Kashto is no prince. We'd butted heads from our first meeting, and even now he got on my last nerve.

Michael watched Kennedy and I work our way toward her bed. We kept our lips locked and shed our boots and winter coats as we went. I did my best to ignore his unwanted presence, like he ignored the hint to leave. He leaned against the doorframe, a low growl emanating from his chest. Too low for human ears, though I heard it just fine. A warning. To me or Kennedy?

"Abe," Michael called, clear menace in his tone.

Guess that would be me, then.

I glanced in his direction, scowling. He never called me by my first name.

"Ooh, look, he knows your name. Progress." Kennedy chuckled and shoved me backward. The backs of my knees hit the side of her bed, and I sank down as she climbed onto my lap. She tugged at my purple Baltimore Ravens long-sleeved tee. I quickly yanked the shirt over my head, then released the tie holding back my waist-length locs.

Her mouth slammed against mine, her hand fisting my hair to hold me in place. I didn't object. I enjoyed giving my partners what they desired in bed, and Kennedy liked control. All of it. Being such a big guy, it was a rush having a partner who didn't always want me to take charge. Not that I minded either way. I was as easy and versatile as they came.

Only now, I couldn't fully concentrate on her kiss. Could feel Michael's glare as he stood in the doorway watching. Hard to miss a guy who stood over six and a half feet tall with a build to match. Took a lot to make me feel small. The fact he was scorching hot only pissed me off more. Serious eyes that didn't miss any details, short, perfectly styled auburn hair, and a clean-shaven jawline so square I could cut my finger on a corner. But it was the smattering of freckles across his aristocratic nose that did me in. Looked like he stepped out of a Hot 100 Gingers photoshoot. Even his ridiculous custom-tailored suits added to the image. Who wore thousand-dollar suits as a bodyguard? Rich asshole Michael Kashto that's who.

A slightly louder growl.

Man, the dude needed to fuck right off with his condescending attitude. Like he was doing me a favor. Fuck him. He didn't own me. Didn't even like me. I was too fine for his ass, anyway.

Kennedy chuckled against my mouth, then broke away again. "Michael, instead of glowering, why don't you come join? There's enough of us to go around."

I tensed. Join? I knew they had their own thing—that's why he and I hadn't hit it off; Michael seemed to want a dick-measuring contest—but I wasn't prepared for him to join us. Not him. No way.

Before I could say, ‘hell no,' he stomped out and slammed the door.

Good riddance.

I let out an audible breath and relaxed my shoulders. Yet, I also felt strangely . . . disappointed.

Oh, fuck no. No, I didn't want him to join. I didn't want him to watch. I didn't want him at all.

If I was hard as steel, it was only because Kennedy was grinding on my lap. Nothing to do with that wolf.

Forcing a grin, I said, "Looks like it's you and me."

"Shame. I was up for a threesome. You two would look amazing together." Kennedy's lush mouth turned down in a pout, and she ran a long nail down my cheek. Not hard enough to draw blood, but not gentle either. Kennedy didn't do gentle.

She leaned in to kiss me again.

Her phone chirped. She froze a hairsbreadth from my lips.

"Shit. That's Tommy."

Not surprised my actual boss' boss called her, though his timing sucked. His and Kennedy's alliance assured he'd be interested in today's misadventures. Hoped it didn't mean I'd be stuck on bodyguard duty even longer. I hadn't minded until that damn wolf's fated mate pronouncement. Now I craved home and not having to see his smug face on the daily.

Kennedy rolled off me, grabbed her cell. She moved with remarkable grace, her long limbs usually causing a bolt of lust to shoot straight to my cock. I hated to admit it, but tonight it wasn't her limbs that had my dick throbbing.

"Hey, thanks for the quick call back," she said, answering the phone. "We have a potential problem." She slid off the bed and mouthed the word, "Sorry," before sauntering into the office and shutting the door with a resounding thud.

Fuuuck. I slumped back on the bed, my dick aching, my temper short, just wishing this shitty day would end. I threw my arms out to my sides, my legs still dangling off the edge.

Between someone trying to sabotage machinery at the Domino Sugar Refinery—Baltimore's largest manufacturing plant—and Michael and I fending off another assassination attempt on Kennedy, I was done. To make things more complicated, the assassin had been a shade. In commando gear.

That spelled trouble.

The attempts themselves weren't surprising. Her position as the new Roger of Central Baltimore didn't sit well with everyone. I couldn't remember the last time a human had been a Roger. With only five Rogers in all the city, and the other four supernaturals secure in their positions, any creature thinking a human would be an easy mark was taking their shot. Truth was, Kennedy was more dangerous than either Michael or me, but that didn't mean she couldn't use help. And the optics were good. Bodyguards lent status.

Until Michael's fated mate announcement, the perks had been pretty great, too. Even the thought of him made my temper flare hotter and my dick throb painfully. Not for him, of course.

Liar.

My soon-to-be blue balls only made me snarlier. I was still flying on an adrenaline high from the earlier attack, and I'd hoped to work some of it off. My cock throbbed again, reminding me how I'd planned to deal with the excess adrenaline.

Fuck it. Kennedy would be a while. She wouldn't blame me for finishing the party without her.

I unfastened my jeans, sliding them down to my thighs, taking the pressure off my confined cock and enabling me to slip a hand into my boxer briefs. My fist closed around my dick for the sweetest relief. I held back a groan as I stroked myself from base to tip. I liked the feel of the calluses on my hands sliding against my aching cock. I had just taken up a solid rhythm when the bedroom door slammed open.