Page 58 of Stealthy as a Wolf

A furrow appeared between her brows, her gaze flicking toward Burke’s naked chest, then her eyes widened to the size of saucers when understanding dawned. She swallowed hard, her nails biting into my arms. “You’re going to shift?! In traffic?! You can’t!”

With every comment, her voice rose an octave, and I couldn’t help but lean down and kiss the tip of her nose. “We’ll be fine.”

I leaned away, grabbing the back of my shirt, then dragging it over my head.

Male satisfaction filled me when her gaze landed on my chest, and her golden eyes widened even farther. Her mouth parted, a lovely flush climbing into her cheeks, and she looked how I imagined she would during sex—all gorgeous and flustered and hungry.

I popped the buttons of my pants, ready to shuck them, when Matty lifted his head. “I think I have something. Give me one minute.”

A growl rumbled in my chest at the delay, the need to defend Maggie riding my beast hard. I wanted to shift and hunt, eager to tear into the ass twats who thought they could take what was mine.

As the bikes got closer, the rumble of the Harleys became like a roar. The angry growl of the machines was much like the wolves themselves, filling the interior of the truck with the thundering sound of their metal beasts.

Aggression poured from me at the taunt, and I couldn’t hold back a snarl.

No more waiting.

I reached for the closure of my pants, ready to shuck them, when the high-pitched sounds of a dozen or more crotch rockets hummed in the air like a swarm of angry hornets. Blinding lights filled the truck as the machines tore into view. The sport bikes dodged the vehicles on the road without an ounce of fear, getting so close that only inches passed between them as they zipped through traffic.

When they drew near, I realized roadrunners were riding on the backs. The men were sleek, dressed all in leather. They were wickedly fast, hunched low over the handlebars of their bikes. Feathers decorated their jackets, and tiny beads were woven into their hair, the decorations streaming behind them, giving the impression that they were actually flying.

I glanced at Matty, spotting his smug smile. “Hawk, the owner of the club, owed me a favor. He sent us a little help. You might say the club caters to the feathery kind, and they don’t take kindly to predators upsetting the balance.”

One by one, the sport bikes zipped past our truck, the Hondas’ motors like the screech of a large, predatory bird as they shot down the road. They moved so fast that it was impossible to identify the individual drivers. They slowed, set a foot down on the road, then spun the bikes in a three-sixty and headed back in our direction. Then they proceeded to heckle and zoom in front of the Harleys, until the wolves had no choice but slow or risk laying down their bikes.

The intense road-rage battle took less than five minutes, the distance between us growing wider and wider. It wasn’t long before all sounds of the bikes vanished, and we were free. But Grady didn’t take our safety for granted, weaving around the backroads for nearly an hour. It was only when we were traveling on a gravel road in the middle of nowhere, the city lights only a memory, did he stop the truck and turn it off.

The silence was so loud that it rang in my ears.

Grady turned around in his seat, glanced at each of us, a warning in his eyes—we’d been lucky. We’d come too close to losing Maggie before we even had a chance to claim her.

We were all in agreement—it couldn’t happen again.

Grady’s gaze landed on Maggie, and his whole countenance softened. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Maggie forked her fingers into her hair, dragging the strands away from her face. I doubted she was aware of it and probably would’ve been horrified by her actions, but she’d remained snuggled right up to Burke during the intense ride.

Much to my amusement, Burke was hyperaware of the small female resting against him so trustingly. He remained absolutely still, as if he were terrified that she might notice his presence and scuttle away.

The man was the fucking king of pricks. He didn’t have the time of day for most people, much less a woman. Females were considered a nuisance that he would swat away on a good day or crush with caustic words on a bad day.

So I found it highly amusing that karma was kicking him in the ass right now. He’d never bothered to learn how to court a woman, and his lack of experience now left him floundering.

The man who had a contingency plan for everything.

I wiggled my brows at him, silently telling him to comfort her, only to receive a nasty scowl in reply. Biting back a sigh, I widened my eyes, then gave Maggie a very pointed look.

Just put your arm around her, I silently urged.

And if looks could kill, I would’ve been a dead man.

I didn’t doubt that the instant we were alone, I would get my ass chewed, but I wouldn’t give up watching his discomfort for all the world. I jerked my head toward Maggie and shot him another pointed look.

Usually, we were so in sync with each other that we could practically read what the other was thinking. I didn’t doubt that the fucker knew exactly what I was telling him to do, and he was just being an ass and resisting the inevitable.

Maggie was ours, and if he weren’t careful, she’d find him unworthy of being her mate. He needed to step up his game if he wanted to prevent that from happening.

His face tightened, possibly sensing my warning, and I swear to the gods that a flash of fear passed over his face. He glanced down at Maggie with a baffled expression, and I had to bite my lip to keep from smirking at the poor schmuck.

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