TRADING FAVORS

By

Sydney Somers

 

 

 

 

© copyright by Sydney Somers, Feb. 2008

Cover Art by Alex DeShanks, Feb 2008

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

 

 

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

She had to be out of her mind.

Genevieve Orion stared up at the eastside apartment building. Her heart hammered against her ribs, her next breath suddenly harder to drag in now that she stood so much closer to the past. If she possessed an ounce of sense, she’d get back in her car and leave. Pedal to the floor and never look back. Everything inside her screamed she wasn’t remotely close to being over Joel, no matter how hard she’d tried to convince herself of that in recent months.

The only thing that kept Genevieve in place was the knowledge that it would take a whole lot longer for Liam to close his case if she didn’t ask Joel for help.

Her stomach clenched, and she closed her fist around her car keys until they dug into her palm. This was stupid. She was a detective for Christ’s sake. Cool, calm collected. Or she used to be. She ground her teeth, hating the bitter taste of nervousness that coated her tongue. Before things went to hell, facing Joel wouldn’t have been a problem whether she was still hung up on him or not.

A fresh wave of anger ignited her resolve. The time for licking her wounds had passed. She’d come home to get her life back on track, and she’d have to face him sooner or later anyway. Better for it to be on her terms instead of him popping up unexpectedly.

Genevieve knew she didn’t have to be the one to talk to him. She knew that, and yet here she found herself standing in front of a building she was all too familiar with. A place she’d spent almost as many nights in as her own. Eight months was a long time to go without seeing someone’s face, especially the face of a man she had once been crazy about.

A man she once loved.

But that was before. Things were different. This was business. Police business.

The iron fist squeezing her lungs eased up, and she sighed. So why was she still glued to the sidewalk? If seeing him was just about asking for his help, she should have been at the door already. Instead, she gazed up at the top window that she knew looked down from his kitchen, trying to find her courage.

Shifting in place, Genevieve took another step towards the door, then backtracked two more. Her feet ached and she looked forward to slipping off the borrowed heels her sister had convinced her to wear to the bachelorette party earlier tonight, along with the skimpy black tank top and barely there skirt she never would have picked out for herself. As a cop she was used to wearing simple shirts and pants most days, far more functional than any item she was sporting tonight.

If not for coming across Liam in the crowded bar, another cop she hadn’t seen since her leave of absence, she wouldn’t have known he had a new lead on a case he was working. A lead that just needed a little help. Help she could get from Joel.

She was so engrossed in trying to figure out why the hell she hadn’t yet moved off the sidewalk, Gen didn’t see the man headed towards her until he was only a few feet away. Dressed in a long, dark coat and khaki pants, newspaper tucked under his arm, head bent as though lost in thought, there wasn’t anything about the man that worried her. Not until he stopped right in front of her.

Her pulse kicked up at the menacing slant to his dark eyes, her gaze darting to the knife he pulled from the inside of his jacket.

“Wallet,” he demanded.

Genevieve blinked, resisting the urge to look down and confirm what she already knew and figured was impossible to miss.

She wasn’t carrying a purse.

Granted it was in the car behind her, but unless he had watched her emerge from the vehicle, he didn’t even know that much.

“Now,” he snapped. He slashed the knife back and forth, taunting her.

She felt bare without her off duty weapon, one she had gotten out of the habit of carrying while she was on leave. And tonight there certainly hadn’t been any place to tuck it on her body that wouldn’t have been noticeable.

Unarmed and opposite a man with a knife, who might or might not be using it just for show. Talk about a perfect way to end her second night back in town.

Genevieve cocked her head, reading the man’s body language, waiting for the first sign he would strike out at her.

“Do I look like I have all night?” The words slurred together.

A drunk. Wonderful.

“I’m not carrying anything.” Genevieve held her hands up.

The man spotted the keys and jerked his head at the car parked only a few feet behind them.

Shit.

Given the late hour and the quiet part of town, not a soul was passing along the sidewalk in either direction.
“Wallet,” he repeated. “Now!”

She didn’t risk taking her eyes off the man in front of her, even to glance up at Joel’s dark windows. Tonight was a full moon, and the odds of Joel being home, or worse home but not alone, left her insides cold.

Easing back a few steps, Genevieve kept her gaze trained on the knife. She opened the passenger side door and reached in to grab the impossibly small purse her sister had insisted she bring along tonight. Genevieve dug her wallet out and just shy of handing it to him, let it fall from her hand.

 

She waited as he predictably followed the wallet’s descent and swung out with the micro pink purse, twisting it around the knife and jerking hard.
The knife came free and clattered to the ground. She slashed her foot out, kicking the knife under the car. But taking her eyes off the mugger for even that long cost her.

With a snarl, he shoved her hard, knocking her backwards. She collided with the open car door and pain radiated up her back.

Son of a bitch.

Pissed now, Genevieve straightened.
The man sneered at her and took three steps forward, only to freeze as something to their left speared across Genevieve’s peripheral vision.

A deep growl rumbled through the air.

Genevieve bit back a knowing grin as the mugger’s eyes widened and he backed away. Relaxing marginally, her heart continued to tap a fierce two-step in her chest. She watched the man opposite her, and only when there was a safe distance between them did Genevieve take in the impressive and intimidating sight of the large black wolf stalking closer.

The man screeched and stumbled back, tripping over his own feet. He turned over on all fours, digging his fingers into the cement to gain enough leverage to regain his footing.

Genevieve watched in amusement when he glanced back over his shoulder, screamed like a boy on the verge on puberty, and bolted.

If he made it more than a hundred feet …. No, that was being too generous. Make it fifty and she’d be impressed.

Eyes glittering, the wolf growled and pursued, taking the mugger down in less than twenty feet with a vicious snarl. The man’s panicked eyes latched onto Genevieve as she caught up with them.

“Lady, get your dog off me. Please, I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry. Just call off your dog.”

The wolf growled at the dog comment.

A smile touched her lips as she dug her cell phone from her purse and called it in. At least if the man believed the large animal was just a dog, she wouldn’t have to worry about answering any questions about that.

Genevieve eyed the wolf. “Be a good dog and hold him there another second.”

The wolf growled, less threatening this time, his piercing green eyes focused intently on her.

She turned back towards the car to retrieve the handcuffs she kept in her glove box. Her sister always got a kick out of that and liked to joke that Gen kept them around for the next bout of kinky sex in her car. As if.

In under two minutes she had the cuffs on, and the wolf had retreated back into the shadows to wait for the police unit on its way to retrieve her mugger. Every second that dragged by, she could still feel the primal gaze boring into her.

Once upon a time those eyes had frightened her, frightened her even more to know they didn’t belong to just the man she’d fallen in love with, but also the animal that lived inside of him. But learning Joel’s big secret, that he, like a handful of others she now knew were werewolves, hadn’t changed anything between them. But instead of sharing that side of himself more fully when the truth hadn’t scared her off, he’d continued to remain guarded about that part of himself.

The patrol car pulled up and she made quick work of seeing the mugger placed in the rear seat, promising the officers—one of whom regularly kicked her ass at pool—that she’d be in later to make her statement. By the time the patrol car sped off and she turned back to face the building, the black wolf had disappeared around the corner.

Taking another breath for courage, Genevieve followed. Facing the mugger had gotten her heart rate up, but didn’t come close to edging her veins with the cool layer of panic she felt sinking in now. She could face the wolf side of him, but the thought of facing Joel was nearly enough to send her back to the car.

She was relieved he’d taken the back stairs and hadn’t waited to take the elevator up with her. She would have happily trudged up fifty flights of stairs to avoid boxing herself in a small five by five cube with Joel, especially when shifting back to his human form would have left him naked. That was way more than she could’ve handled tonight.

The image of Joel Maddox completely naked and very aroused flashed through her mind, warming her.

Yup, coming here had been a very bad idea

. Especially when she so clearly wasn’t over him. Apparently eight months wasn’t long enough to get him out of her system.
The door at the end of the hall was already open and a pair of pants lay in the middle of the hallway. She picked them up, along with the shirt farther down. Her chest constricted at the thought of him ripping off his clothes before he shifted to come to her aid. She knew from both Joel and her dead partner’s descriptions that their hand hurt like hell with every transition from man to wolf and back again. A legacy from the first bite that marked the creation of their kind.

She was hopeless. She hadn’t even laid eyes on him yet and already she was letting the fact that he had come to her rescue soften her heart. Where the hell had the strong woman she’d been before Joel Maddox retreated to?

Genevieve walked slowly into the loft apartment, memories flooding her. Memories she’d worked hard to try to forget. She told herself she was ready for this, ready for him. The brainwashing might have worked too … until Joel Maddox strolled out of his bathroom.

Staring at the tempting bare chest, then lower to jeans still unbuttoned, his black hair shorter than she remembered and his green eyes devouring her, one thing became perfectly clear.

She was in way over her head here.

* * * *

If he hadn’t had time to stare at Genevieve outside with the bastard mugger’s throat under his jaws, Joel might have thought he was dreaming.

Why hadn’t anyone told him Gen had come home? Eight months ago she had walked out of his life and hadn’t looked back.

Taking his heart right along with her.

Now she was right here, in his place, sexier than sin in her tank top and short skirt his hands were already itching to slide up, and heels that would feel best pressed against his back, her thighs wrapped around his waist.

His cock pressed against the seam of his jeans. Joel didn’t take his eyes off her. He wanted to ask what she was doing here, why she’d come home, how long she was planning to stay, but couldn’t stop staring at her long enough to get the words past his lips.

She looked good. Her blonde hair still fell in soft waves just past her shoulders, and even from across the room he could see her whiskey colored eyes taking him in. The scent of her arousal hummed through him and pure primal satisfaction pulsed in his veins.

Joel followed her gaze to where it landed on the engraved army dog tags she had given him for a joke more than a year ago. He hadn’t taken them off since she left and not until this moment did he figure out why.

He was still in love with her.

He had screwed up by trying to keep her out of the mess her partner’s murder became, and screwed up even more when he let her pick up and run.

Barefoot, Joel strode into the kitchen, not missing Gen’s subtle sidestep away from him.

Someone was clearly feeling a little skittish. Not really like her. From the beginning her take-no-prisoners attitude had attracted him to her in a big way. It only took him three months of stubbornly refusing to take no for an answer before she finally caved.

But it had been worth it.

Joel grabbed two beers out of the fridge and offered her one.

Genevieve eyed the amber bottle as though there were strings attached. He waited patiently for her to take it, using the opportunity to touch her. Her breath caught at the soft slide of his fingers over hers, and he watched her trap her bottom lip between her teeth.

He didn’t let go of the bottle until she lifted her gaze to meet his and the swirling mix of hurt, determination, and awareness that glittered in her eyes cut straight through him.

“So how have you been?” The question sounded pathetically lame out loud, but what the hell was he supposed to say to the girl he let get away? Miss me?

“Good.” She eased the bottle out of his hand and took a tentative sip of her beer, her eyes never leaving his. The slight lift of her chin told him she wasn’t about to rush back into his arms, no matter how desperate he was to hold her. He shouldn’t have expected otherwise, but damn if it didn’t sting a little that the wall she’d thrown up between them before she tucked tail and ran was still intact.

She took another drink and the sight of her lips wrapped around the lip of the bottle made his gut clench. He forced himself to take a drink from his own. It was either that or drag her to his bed, and the wariness in her eyes confirmed that particular response might not go over so well.

The cool liquid did nothing to extinguish the need slowly licking its way through his stomach. “You back in town for good, or just visiting?”

“For good.” She set the beer down, crossing her arms.

Ah, all business now

. “I take it this isn’t a personal call?” And for some reason that was beginning to tick him off. He couldn’t help wonder if she would have bothered to let him know she’d come home if not for whatever reason had brought her to his door tonight.
“No.”

“Too bad.” He trailed his gaze up her body, pausing at the tantalizing tease of cleavage the low v-neck tank top offered.

“I need a favor.”

Joel arched a brow. “Oh?” He took three steps closer, pleased when she held her ground. Of course, with the island counter in the middle of the kitchen against her back, there weren’t a lot of places she could go.

“What kind of favor?” He propped one hand on the counter beside her and leaned in. A slow inhale brought her scent to the forefront where it tempted the animal within. “Does it by chance begin with slowly peeling your clothes off and ending with either of us unable to move a muscle?”

Her eyes flared before anger filled the swirling whiskey colored pools.

Joel bit back his smile, but didn’t retreat. She was as turned on as he was, and that fact alone was the only reason he didn’t back off as her eyes warned him to. The full moon tonight certainly wasn’t helping. He could feel the wildness inside him straining for control. That combined with the fact that he hadn’t touched a woman since she left, made it increasingly difficult to check the urge to lift her onto the counter, tug off her skirt and panties and bury himself deep inside her.

“I tell you what,” he said, his mouth next to her ear. He tried to keep the smile from his voice when he saw her start to reach out to him, then lower and curl her hand into a fist at her side. “You answer one question for me, and then you can ask your favor.”

Genevieve cocked her head, the critical gaze as familiar to him as his own reflection, and one that had haunted him in all the months she’d been gone. She nodded slowly.

Joel grinned. “Good.” He gently scuffed his stubbled jaw against her cheek. “Tell me why you took off.”