LOGINLogan-
“What’s going on, Logan?” James asks me. He’s all serious, all the time. James is James, never J or Jim or Jamie. He would have those surfer good looks if he would just fucking smile sometime. He’s blond, blue-eyed, and he even has a damned dimple on one side. James has to work extra hard to pull off stern and he’s an expert at this point. As the resident tight-ass, he has ended up being the organizer and instigator of our group. We’re all alpha in our own ways, but the way James naturally leads lends itself well to logistical considerations.
“Let’s wait for everybody so I can cover everything one time instead of three. We’re still waiting on Deek and Ollie.” James and I are both early types; Ollie is usually right on time but Deek is almost always just a little late. In Derek’s defense, he’s chronically looking for a new assistant. His are always leaving due to unforeseeable circumstances– sudden sick family members who need care, difficult pregnancies, even car wrecks– or because he's been on the “America's Most Eligible Bachelors” list twice too many. I have never met a man with worse luck when it comes to keeping an assistant.
“Hey guys, we still waiting on Deek?” Ollie connects next– to no one’s surprise– with his customary greeting, light brown curls flopping into his face as he tries to eat politely on a video call. Oliver and Derek have some kind of rivalry going on that I’ve never gotten to the bottom of– something about a girl in college, maybe?
“No, we are not waiting on Derek, I’m right here!” Deek says as his camera is still connecting, showing him digging through paperwork on his desk. “And does anybody know where I can get a personal assistant that doesn’t think I want to live in a porno instead of actually run my business? I’m getting desperate over here. I've had to fire this past one for trying to play naughty sexcretary in the middle of a goddamn meeting!”
“No, we’ve already sent you everyone we know, remember? You’re like a personal assistant curse. I don’t even have any more backups to throw under the wheels of your shitty luck! Why don't you try hiring a man?” Ollie can’t resist a dig before we really get into things and get serious, but he reins it in quickly– talking over Derek's “I've tried–” in order to say “But we’re not here to talk about you, D, we’re here because Logan has something going on. What’s up, Lo?”
“First of all, that’s still a terrible nickname. I won’t go by Lo. You can’t make it catch on because everyone but you knows how bad it sucks. Second of all…..” I drag it out, not sure how to describe what I’m feeling, how to get them to understand how I know, how I could feel it immediately. “I met my mate today.” Okay, so I’ll just go with blunt. That’s fine. “I ran into her coming up the stairs to my office and she is for sure mine. But she works here, so she’s also mine in that she’s my employee and I cannot shit where I eat, you know? I can’t decide if I should go after her now or how I should do it to keep her from thinking I’m some crazy stalker or– even worse– that her job would include favors, and if she doesn’t run for a restraining order first thing, what would I even say to explain to a human–”
Logan--Well, little rose, you’ll always be short compared to me. And I would break anyone described as ‘petite’ in the human world. I like your curves, baby. I like how they fit in my hands, I like how they move when you walk, and I like most of all how they jiggle when I’m balls deep– I get the impression of Emory’s squeak on the other end of our connection, and I chuckle as she immediately starts trying to clear her mind of thoughts to end the conversation. If the shifters thought I was crazy before, they’re convinced of it now. I’ll have to tell them it was for Hector’s benefit or I’ll end up explaining telepathy to them. I’m not sure we want to confirm that particular rumor to anyone. The more people know, the less advantage we can take of it.
Logan--Once we got the camera from the photographer, he became very cooperative. We deleted all of the pictures from his camera and his phone, though he thankfully didn’t get anything too destructive. I’ve coached my whole pack on how to melt into the shadows before they shift, to avoid eyes at all costs. I’ve asked Ollie to have Jeffries check up on the kid, and James is riding Jeffries’ ass as well. Jeffries is technically part of James’ security team, but Ollie keeps him on retainer because he’s a nosy fucker. Ollie’s got this inquisitive nature that has him riding the cutting edge of his sphere, but it spills over into every other area of his life, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew exactly what Emory and I usually do on our way home from work in the evenings. Soon enough, we’ll know all about th
Emory--“This is a public park. By being here, you consent to any pictures taken of you.” The camera man replies, though he’s fidgety about it. It's hard to tell if the trembling in his fingers is more from fear or from caffiene overdose. He looks like he's being held up by adrenalin alone at this point. “I could sue you for assaulting me and holding me against my will, actually.” I can’t resist rolling my eyes at him. What a weasel. He hasn't seen assault yet, according to Logan's darker thoughts. “Ah, but you forget I’m a celebrity now. The rules are different for me, I’m afraid. Your friends have made your own life harder by making me the new sensation.” Logan replies in a pleasant tone. I tamp down the urge to fidget next to him. I'm not sure if that's actually true or if rich
Emory--I sit up with an undignified snort, alerted by Logan’s sudden panic blaring through my head. We’re going to have to find a way to filter our communication, fast. Once I understand what the problem is, though, my panic matches his. There was someone in the woods around us, someone who took at least one picture. I look down at myself– disheveled in a way that anyone would know what I was just doing, but decently covered, at least. I don’t think they would have seen anything rated R unless they had really precise timing, but it depends on how long they’ve been here. There’s a reason we didn’t hire a photographer for this ceremony, after all. As much as I’d love to have an album to show our kids and grandkids one day, it’s too much of a risk of exposure to have a camera anywhere near
Logan--It’s no wonder Emory always passes out after we have sex. I’ve never experienced a full-body orgasm like that before– I feel like I just ran a marathon and then got high on the best drug on the market. I can still feel muscles in my legs twitching, and my knees wouldn’t be up to the task of standing right now even if my life was on the line. I feel a weird… stretching feeling from my wolf, like he’s pulling at the leash inside me. Usually, that means I need to fight the urge to shift, but that’s not what I’m feeling right now. It’s not until I hear Emory’s litany of quiet panic that I realize what happened. My wolf is on a walkabout in her head rather than mine. It takes a few slow seconds to look over at Emory so I can work out the best way to calm her down. He’s not a bad wolf, and she knows him well, already. When I finally work up the neck strength to turn my head, I realize that Emory’s mouth isn’t moving. Her face is blank– not quite serene, but a pretty good poker fac
Emory--I start to shout my surprise and the anticipation of pain, but I’m shocked when my shout dies on a moan and the arousal that has been simmering in me since the end of the previous ceremony absolutely explodes through my consciousness. I close my eyes and try not to sway under the influence of the heady rush of endorphins pounding through every nerve and blood vessel in my body. Logan places sucking kisses up my neck until he bites my earlobe and growls huskily in my ear. “Your move, little mate. Mate me, take me.” His eyes are practically spot lights, blinding me to anything else as he makes eye contact before using his hold in my hair to shove my mouth against his neck.I manage a shaky laugh in the face of Logan’s wilder side, and murmur back to him “turnabout is fair play, mate.” He growls at me as I give him precise, sucking, kisses in th







