Oh yeah, that would have been a level of hell. Fingering a berry bush, she asked, “Have you ever gotten along?”
“I don’t remember there being a time when we ever did. Even when we were toddlers, I remember him always trying to be the leader because he was born first. But I didn’t want a leader, and I didn’t want to lead him. His first word was ‘mine.’ Apparently, my first word was ‘shush.’ Even then he must have annoyed me.”
“There was never any rivalry between me, Marlon, and Julie. None of us fought for Yvonne’s attention or anything.”
“Good. People say that sibling rivalry is normal . . . a rite of passage that builds character. Maybe it is healthy when you’re a kid, but it sure never felt that way.” He neatly sidestepped a patch of spongy moss. “What fed the rivalry was that we were each other’s measuring stick. The first thing people seemed to do was tally our differences. When people talked about us, it was often comparing us rather than describing us as individuals. Who was born first? Who crawled first? Who walked first? Who spoke first?”
She nodded in understanding. “Ah. I can see how that would make things worse.”
“Plus, we were expected to share everything. We didn’t always have our own stuff. He didn’t like to share. When people bought us gifts, they often got us the same thing in an effort to be fair. That didn’t help. He’d always lose his stuff and swear that I’d taken it.
“When we got older, we’d have our own things, but he hated that. He believed whatever I had was better simply because I had it, so then he wanted it. I was often told to give him stuff just to keep the peace. But there was no real peace in that house.”
Pissed on Zander’s behalf, she asked, “What did your parents do?”
“Nothing. Mom would always excuse his behavior, so he was never held accountable for anything. If you’re not taught something’s wrong, how can anyone expect you to regret it? Why would you ever feel the need to change? I’m not saying it’s completely her fault that he is the way he is. We each have our own mind. But that’s the mental path he went down. If he’s ever in his life felt guilty for anything, I’d be surprised.”
“But . . . why did she excuse his behavior?”
“He was Mom’s golden boy, and she felt guilty for him almost dying after he donated a kidney to me when we were kids. Dad thought it was normal for us to battle it out. Did you know that sibling competition begins in spotted hyenas at birth? At least twenty-five percent of their pups are killed by siblings. It’s the Cain Complex, right? The unconscious, secret wish to kill your sibling.”
She blinked. “You think he’d like to see you dead?”
“I think he wouldn’t care if I was. I don’t know how much money Rory was expecting to inherit from our uncle—probably all of it, since he has that sense of entitlement—but he wasn’t happy whatsoever to hear he’d been left a dollar.”
She couldn’t help that her mouth quirked. “Wow. Your uncle pissed him off even after his death.”
“Rory wants half of what I inherited. He thinks it’s his due. He’ll toy with the pack until I give him what he feels he’s entitled to have.”
“Will you give it to him?”
“No. He’s not entitled to it, and he wouldn’t use it smartly anyway.” Zander gestured at the lodge ahead of them. “Here we are.”
It was a hell of a lot nicer than the cabin on her property, she thought. In fact, it was more like a miniature version of the Alphas’ lodge, except that there were only two floors, and the frame was all timber. Still, it was big and bold in its way.
To the side of the lodge was a cutting stump and woodpile. “I have a sudden vision of you shirtless and sweaty, chopping wood with an ax. Don’t know if you do it shirtless. That’s just the image that my dirty mind came up with.”
Zander chuckled. “Your mind can’t be half as dirty as mine, baby.” He led her onto the porch and then into the lodge, closing the door behind them.
The interior was exactly like him, Gwen thought. Masculine. Organized. Stylish in a simple way, no frills or splashes of color.
Like the Alphas’ lodge, it had an open-plan living, dining, and kitchen area. The dark-cream oversize sofa and recliners looked damn comfortable—she’d test that theory in a minute. The weathered coffee table was a rich, oiled wood that gleamed as the sun shone through the windows. The stone fireplace should have been the focal point, but the wide-screen TV stood out more. It seemed to be the most expensive thing there, but she could see that the style of the furniture was deliberately understated.
“Nice,” she said, turning to face him. “Suits you.”
She suited him, Zander thought. He drew her to him and kissed her, practically pouring the possessiveness he’d bottled up right down her throat. She kissed him back with a soft moan that was like a stroke to his quickly hardening cock.
He’d meant to keep the kiss slow and easy, since they couldn’t stay long and needed to get back. But he found himself gripping her braid and angling her head to deepen the kiss. His wolf pushed him to take her right there in his lodge. The beast wanted her scent to be all over it.
Zander snapped open her fly and shoved his fingers inside her panties, pausing as soon as he found her clit. She bucked against his hand, but he did nothing other than circle her clit with the tip of his finger. He swiped his tongue over her lower lip. “Such a gorgeous mouth. It deserves to be fucked, don’t you think?”
“Not really.”
He fought a smile. “Yeah, you’ll put that pretty mouth on my cock one day. Not today.” He flicked her clit. “Today I want to feel my baby’s sweet little pussy squeeze my dick like it’s hers.” He took her mouth again, feasting greedily as he played with her clit. “Shirt off, Gwen.” She quickly shed both her shirt and bra. “Good.” He thrust one finger inside her, rewarding her. “Now the rest.” Breathing hard, she kicked off her shoes and then shoved down her shorts and panties. He traced the shell of her ear with his tongue and whispered, “So good for me.” He sank another finger inside her.
Splaying his free hand on her lower back to still her, Zander fucked her with his fingers. Hard. Fast. Growling at the prick of her nails on his nape. He kept his mouth pressed to hers, tasting every moan and gasp. Soon, her pussy fluttered around his fingers. “That’s it. Give me that come, baby.” He kept his fingers buried deep as she came, growling into her mouth as her cream soaked his fingers.
Shaking a little, Gwen double-blinked, caught up in her post-orgasm buzz. She couldn’t take her eyes off Zander as he withdrew his hand from her panties and, holding her gaze, sucked his fingers clean. Damn. She tore open his fly and wrapped her hand around his cock. He was long and hard, and he seemed to thicken even more as she pumped him with a tight fist.
“I can have you any way I want,” he rumbled, closing his hand around her breast. “Tell me. Say it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Actually—”
He yanked hard on her hair. “Don’t get bratty with me. I don’t reward bratty.” He pinched her nipple. “Tell me.”
Gwen almost shivered at the growl that rattled his chest. Sensing he wasn’t going to give in because, yeah, he was a total asshole sometimes, she relented, “You can have me any way you want.”