Alpha One (Shadow Agents 1)

Their lips broke apart and the shirt went flying. A wild smile pulled at his lips. Only Juliana. She was always—

His.

He caressed the pert curve of her breast. The nipple was tight, flushed pink, and when he put his lips on her, she whispered his name.

And scored her nails down his back.

He should go slowly. Learn her body again, remember every inch.

But her scent was driving him out of his mind. She was pulling him closer. She was all he could feel. All he could breathe.

Everything.

He yanked down the zipper of his jeans. Found protection for them, then he positioned his aroused length at the delicate entrance of her sex.

Logan caught her hands and pushed them back against the mattress. Their fingers threaded together, their gazes locked.

The years fell away.

The only girl I ever loved.

“Logan...” She whispered his name. “I’ve missed you,” she confessed.

Then there was nothing else but her.

Logan pushed into her moist, hot core, driving deep and steady, fighting to hold on to his control when he just wanted to take and take and take. But he had to show her pleasure. He had to make sure she went as wild as he did.

Her legs wrapped around him. No hesitation. No fear.

She smiled up at him.

His hips pulled back, then he thrust deep. Her breath caught and the smile faded from her lips. The passion built between them, the desire deepening. The thrusts came faster, harder, and the control he’d held so tight began to shred.

The pleasure filled her eyes, making them seem to go blind. He’d never seen anything more beautiful than her. Nothing...no one...

Her climax trembled around him and she cried out in release. Her breaths came in quick gasps as her legs tightened around him.

The release hit Logan, not a wave or a rush but an avalanche that swept over him with a climax so powerful his body shuddered—and he held on to Juliana as tightly as he could.

And when his heartbeat eased its too-frantic pounding, he stared back into her eyes and realized just how dangerous she still was...to him.

* * *

THE SCENT OF BOOZE HUNG heavily in the air. Beer. Whiskey.

But even more than that...he could smell the blood.

“Dad?” Logan called out for him even as he pushed against the dashboard. It had fallen in on him, and he had to twist and heave his body in order to slide out from under the dash. He yanked at the seat belt, his hands wet with blood, and finally, finally, he was free.

His dad wasn’t.

Logan stared at the wreckage of the pickup. Twisted metal. Broken glass. And his father pinned behind the wheel, head craned at an unnatural angle.

His fingers trembled when he put them to his father’s throat. No pulse. No life. Nothing.

“Help...”

The barest of cries. So soft. A whisper. But he stiffened and whirled around.