Mr. Red Riding Hoode

Taking her captive could prove his innocence…or make her a target. Savage Revenge © 2013 Shelli Stevens Savage, Book 3

Agent and Alpha Nathan Larson has fled his pack, his agency and Washington State on a life-or-death mission to prove himself innocent of a savage massacre he’s pretty sure he didn’t commit.

So far he’s covered his tracks, but it’s only a matter of time. He needs a place to hunker down under the radar, and he intends to make it happen. No matter who becomes collateral damage.

Sage Christensen knows every shifter in this small California town, and the darkly attractive, brooding alpha attempting to flirt with her stands out like a flea on a white cat. She quickly realizes she was right to be wary when he follows her home and holds her captive.

Despite her refusal to be a compliant victim, she can’t deny their chemistry. Or the gut instinct that maybe he really is innocent. But with the trail of dead women growing longer, Sage begins to wonder if it was a mistake to trust her safety, her body—and her heart—to a man who has no idea how deep his dark side is buried.

Warning: This book has an Alpha male on the run, and a quirky novelist destined to be his captive. There will be bloodshed, lovemaking, and excitement aplenty.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Savage Revenge:

Sage had the door open, with one foot out, before he reached her and snagged her around the waist.

“Son of a bitch,” he roared. “How in the hell did you get free?”

He lifted her back into the house and slammed the door.

She was apparently done being complacent, though. She squirmed, kicked and hit before he finally had to drop her to try and get a better grip.

But it wasn’t that easy, because in an instant she had scurried away and grabbed any kind of makeshift weapon she could get her hands on.

He ducked from the remote control that flew at his head and lunged toward her. He missed.

“How did you get yourself untied?” he roared.

“You seriously underestimate me.” She darted past him, throwing a small lamp at him in the process.

It clipped his shoulder before crashing to the floor. “Clearly.”

A growl of fury erupted past his lips as he threw himself at her full speed.

He took her down linebacker style, rolling them both on the hardwood floors.

“Get off me.”

She slapped at his shoulders, trying to free herself, and he caught her wrists in one hand to get her under control.

Her expression morphed from frustration to pain, and her sharp cry had his anger vanishing. Had he hurt her? He hadn’t realized his grasp was that tight.

A quick scan of her body, though, and he dropped her wrists from his grasp after seeing the raw, red cuts there.

“Jesus, woman, what the hell did you do to yourself?”

She winced and gently cradled one wrist. “I cut them while freeing myself.”

He leaned down and slid an arm around her waist, helping her to her feet. “You mind filling me in on how you even got free?”

“I rolled myself off the bed and cut the rope on the metal frame. There’s a sharp corner that I’ve cut my foot on more than once while climbing into bed.”

Smart girl. “So when I found you on the floor and scooped you back up, you were probably already halfway through your ropes?”

“Pretty much.”

He grunted and steered her toward the kitchen. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m a shifter—it’ll stop fast.”

“Still, it wouldn’t hurt you to wash the cuts. That frame might be rusty and why risk any slowed healing?”

“Does it matter? I have a feeling you wouldn’t mind seeing me suffer.”

Christ. This again. “It’s not my intent to hurt you, Sage. I can’t stress that enough.”

“Then what is your intent?”

“I just need a place to lay low. To figure out a few things.” He turned on the sink and gently pulled her wrists under the water. “And you’re going to help me with that.”

She winced as he added soap over her raw but already healing wrists. “Not exactly willing here.”

Their heads were close and he was suddenly all too aware of her as a female. The wrist he held was delicate and soft, and the scent of her shampoo mixed with the citrus soap he was using to wash her wounds.

“It would be a little weird if you were,” he finally agreed.

Her gaze lifted to meet his. Searching. “Are you really a P.I.A. agent?”

“Yes. And not just an agent. I’m also the commander of my unit.”

She shook her head, her breathing not quite as steady now. Was it from the information he’d just divulged, or their proximity?

“You sound as if you should be one of the good guys. What did you do?”

He was a good guy. Or so he’d used to think. He shrugged, not quite ready to answer that. Not quite sure he could.

So he changed the subject instead.

“This could’ve been so much easier on both of us, Sage. At the bar last night I was trying to make you fall for me. Trying to gain your trust so you’d willingly take me home.”

“I’m sorry I was so uncooperative.” Her sarcasm ran rampant. “And I don’t take men home.”

When he glanced up at her, her gaze had slid to his mouth.

Interesting. Maybe she was a more aware of him than she cared to admit. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and everything primal inside him responded.

He turned off the sink and maneuvered her against it, straddling her legs with his own.

“Well I guarantee you if I’d been the one kissing you outside instead of your pretty musician, you would’ve taken me home.”

She swallowed hard and met his gaze once more. The amount of defiance there was outweighed by excitement.

“For a criminal, you’re awfully full of yourself. It would take more than a kiss for me to have brought you home.”

“Careful, Sage,” he warned softly and leaned in closer. His breath mingled with hers. “Because that almost sounds like a challenge.”

He heard it then. The slow thud of her heart that had become a pounding thunder. She didn’t reply to his statement, and the wolf within him rose to the surface in an instant.

Was he right? Was she as physically drawn to him right now as he was to her?

Maybe he was going about this wrong. Maybe if he tried to seduce her mind—her heart—he’d have her cooperation. She’d stop trying to escape and break his skull in.

Or maybe, you just want to charter the inside of her mouth with your tongue.

Whatever it was, the primitive side of him was far too close to the surface to be denied now.

He lowered his head and lightly touched his lips to hers—waited for her to pull away. She was so soft. Wonderfully sweet.

She didn’t move, though her shoulders tensed. A moment later she gave a stiff shrug. “See? That did noth—”

He didn’t let her finish that thought before he’d crushed his mouth on hers again. Not gentle this time, but with the sole intent to explore that amazing mouth deeper. To conquer and take.

She whimpered in shock before he effortlessly pierced her compressed lips with his tongue, determined to taste the soft warmth inside.

For a moment, she tried to push him away, her hands shoving against his bare shoulders, but as he gentled his kiss—switched his intent from conquer to seduce—she grew pliant in his arms.

As he flicked his tongue against hers in teasing, gentle strokes, she began to answer back. The hands that had tried to push him away a moment ago now kneaded and stroked the bare skin of his shoulders.

The control that he always prided himself on—that had been so tightly wound—began to unravel. His thoughts grew hazy, and for a moment he couldn’t be sure who was actually in control. Who was seducing who.

He reached down and caught her ass, lifting her easily onto the edge of the sink and stepping between her thighs.

Her legs wrapped around him and the intimate heat of her body cradled the now rock-hard flesh of his dick.

Christ, he was losing it, but he couldn’t stop.

The shifter inside him was near the surface and riding the rush. If the basic human male’s instincts were to eat, fight and fuck, then the shifter male’s instincts for those were twice as strong. Nathan had managed to scratch eating off the list, but the other two were long overdue. There was adrenaline running through his blood, and fighting Sage wasn’t remotely an option.

But maybe fucking her was.

Delving his hands into the damp curls of her hair, he tugged her head back and pulled his mouth from hers.

He trailed slow kisses down her jawline. Exploring. Tasting. Feeling her heart beating in the pulse beneath his tongue.

“Nate…” she whispered, sounding almost drugged, and making no move to stop him now. “Is…oh…is Nate really your name?”

“Nate. Nathan. Larson. Sir. I get them all.” How was she still able to talk? Maybe this was a good time to try and get information out of her. “You’re a writer?”

While waiting for her to answer, he teased the wildly beating pulse in her neck again with is tongue.

“Oh…yes.” She made a soft, fluttery sigh. “Romance novels.”

Nice. He hid a smile but was all too aware of the curve of a full breast that was just inches from his chin. The need touch it—to taste it—was so fierce and blatant he felt like a horny teenager.

But even as he moved his hand to touch her, he flashed back to last night and the way the musician had groped her. The way she’d flinched and drawn back.

Slow down, asshole. Remember, this is about seduction to gain her cooperation, not about getting your rocks off.

He trailed his kisses lower, to the curve of her breast above the sleeveless cotton dress. Then he paused. Waited to see how she’d react. If she’d push him away, freeze up or…

The whimper she made was husky and needy, and her back arched just slightly to lift her breast higher toward his lips.

It was the only invitation he needed to tug down the dress and thick fabric of her bra and bare her to him. Her breast spilled free, so milky white and full. The strawberry-colored tip was already hardened.

Shit. If he’d had even the slightest bit of control left before, it had just disappeared.