Wild Hunger (The Phoenix Pack, #7)(83)

“Fuck no.” Sighing, Trick skimmed his fingers up and down her back. “He said that Morelli sent him to kidnap you.” He relayed everything Drake had told him.

Frankie traced the lines and dips of his abs as she spoke. “He could be telling the truth. I mean, extremists have tried to provoke our kind into starting a war, but we formed The Movement instead. If they want the war bad enough, they need to try something else. And it would be smart to try to recruit a shifter they can work with. Not that I believe they wouldn’t actually kill Morelli. He might not even believe that they’d let him live. They might simply be content on using each other.”

“If he was telling the truth, Morelli planned to serve us to the extremists on a silver fucking platter.” His wolf peeled back his upper lip.

“I’d say it’s time for Trey to have a talk with him.”

“Tried that. Morelli’s number is no longer in use.” That could mean a lot of things—none of which he wanted to explore right then. “Let’s not talk anymore about that fucker.” Trick caught her hand and kissed her palm. “How did the rest of your night go?”

“Good.”

“No males were hanging around, trying to steal you from me?”

She chuckled. “No.”

“No one gave you any problems?”

“No.”

The slight hesitation before she spoke made him frown, especially since agitation briefly spiked down their bond. “What happened?”

She sighed. “I was going to tell you tomorrow. You have enough shit on your mind tonight.”

“I want to know.” He pulled her on top of him so he could better look her in the eye. “Tell me now.”

She bit her lip, resting her chin on his chest. “Rio was a little . . . unfriendly.”

Fucker. “Define unfriendly.”

“He basically indicated that, as I don’t have a dick, he believed I wasn’t what you needed. He thinks you’re gay—or at least mostly gay. And if what Marcus said is right, he’s bitter that pursuing you never worked out for him.”

Trick swore, pissed with both the motherfucker and himself. “I shouldn’t have left you.” He should have stayed at her side, protected her.

“I’m a big girl, you know.”

“Tell me Marcus dealt with the bastard.”

“He, Derren, and Zander took said bastard outside for a ‘conversation.’”

“Good.”

“Of course, that was after I stabbed his hand with my claws.”

Trick blinked. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve proven over and over that behind your cuteness lies a mean little she-wolf.” She just shrugged. “Tell me that you know Rio was chatting utter bullshit.”

“I know,” she assured him. “You want me, whatever package I come in.”

“But the things he said hurt you.”

“They stung a little, I’ll admit that. No one likes to hear their mate’s ex brag about how they know what he likes and what he tastes like. Not that I hadn’t already figured out that you liked it rough and were a fan of anal. According to Rio, you’ll stick around for a while if I give your dick access to my ass.”

Trick cupped her face. “Hear me, Frankie. I will fuck your ass. I’ll fill every inch of it and claim it as mine. Not because I like anal, but because it’s you. Whatever we do, it’s always about you.”

Frankie lifted a brow. “Look, I don’t mind you using a finger now and then.” She’d grown to like that. “But your cock? No. That won’t happen. Don’t give me that indulgent smile, like I’m delusional or something.”

“Oh, baby, I don’t think you’re delusional. I just think you’re full of shit.” He slid a hand down her back to cup one globe. “I will have this ass. I will fuck it and claim it and come deep inside it. And you know what? You’ll love every moment of it.” He narrowed his eyes. “You can wipe that indulgent smile right off your face.”

“Annoying, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it damn well is.”

She snickered. “We can argue about it tomorrow. I’m wiped.” She rested her cheek on his chest and closed her eyes. She waited until she was on the verge of sleep before she said, “By the way, I love you too.”

Trick went rigid. “You can’t tell someone you love them and then just go to sleep.”

“Watch me,” she slurred. And then she drifted off.

The next day, Trick frowned as he stared at Ryan. “Say that again.”

Standing in the center of Trey’s office, the enforcer repeated, “Morelli is gone. The buildings on his land, including the pack house, were all burned to the ground. It was no forest fire or accident. Accelerant was used. Someone deliberately destroyed them. There wasn’t a soul in sight.”

Trey’s chair creaked as he leaned forward and braced his elbows on his desk. “Any bodies?”

“Not that I could see,” replied Ryan. “But I can’t be sure that no one died in the fire.”

“So either someone tried to kill the pack, or Morelli did the damage himself and then scampered.” Trey tapped his chin. “Maybe he knew we had Drake. But how?”