by Bonnie Vanak
Stephan did not laugh. The methodical, brutal pounding he delivered left the offender in a bloody pulp.
No one tangled with him after that.
Nicolas Prentice was the only one of the trio who didn’t seem to like me. Quieter but wilder, as if the wolf inside him clawed constantly to get out. He was muscled and resembled a biker on a mean streak, with a black leather jacket, white distressed T-shirt, faded jeans and biker boots that could kick someone’s ass across the room. Nicolas had patrician features and large dark chocolate eyes, but a wicked scar marching down his left cheek indicated he’d tangled with someone fiercer. The tat on his neck of a wolf howling at the moon was a clear indication where his loyalty resided.
Nicolas was close-mouthed, drank little and had an edginess about him. He was polite, respectful, but seldom talked with me. He always seemed protective of Stephan, almost like an older brother.
All three were dangerous, and other shifters in the room gave them a wide berth. Even that braggart Nathan picked up his beer and headed for a table far away.
The two betas headed for a table in the room’s center. It was their usual position, one with an eye on the door and one with an eye on the back. Their body language seemed relaxed, but sharp eyes could tell they were vigilant.
Boot heels clicked as Grayson crossed the wood floor. Everyone in the bar watched him as one would watch a gunslinger I saw once in an old western movie. The leather stool squeaked as he slid onto the seat vacated by the Fae. His blue gaze held mine.
“Hello Sienna.” That voice, deep and sensual, could stroke a woman into orgasm simply by reciting directions for hooking up cable television.
He sniffed the air and frowned. “I smell Fae.”
My blood ran cold. “Fee, Fi, Fo, Fae. I smell something and wish it’d go away.”
Grayson did not grin back. He slid off the stool. “A woodland Fae was here.”
I nodded. “Cass threw him out for practicing magick.”
“How long ago?”
I shrugged. “He left about fifteen minutes ago.”
“Say anything?” The alpha’s frown creased his forehead. “Why would a Fae be here in a strip club occupied by shifters?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he’s tired of watching his own kind get naked.”
All these questions made me uneasy. I needed to divert his attention. “Want a drink?”
“Whisky, straight up. The house brand.”
“Living dangerously.” I gave him a generous shot of Dante’s finest. “Usually you stick with beer.”
He poured the glass over the bar seat. “Towel please.”
I watched him wipe down the seat with the paper towels I’d handed him, chuck them into a garbage can behind the bar, and then resume his seat. Though I agreed with him, inside I winced. Grayson was sexy and the fact he obviously disliked Fae made my chest hollow.
“Another whiskey, please. Make it your finest.”
After he received his shot, he sipped, nodding in appreciation. “Tonight’s not a night for beer. I’m too restless.”
Interesting. In the weeks I’d gotten to know him, the alpha had never been anything but cool and controlled.
“Why? Got a hot date?” I felt a pinch of jealousy.
“No. I’m solo tonight.”
“I could change that.”
Words poured out of my mouth before I could bite my tongue. Flirting with Grayson? He was a tough alpha, and I always treated him with slight distance and lots of respect, not this come-on attitude.
He leaned forward, mouth wet with whiskey. “Oh, you’d be hot, Sienna. But one night would not quench… my thirst. You’re a lass a male keeps in his bed for a long time, and does his damnest to ensure she never wants to go elsewhere.”
“And you think you’re the male who could do that?” I sniffed, even as his words aroused me. “I’ve walked away from other guys’ beds before.”
“You couldn’t walk after being in mine, lass.” Grayson gave a slow, meaningful smile.
Sexual desire poured through me. An image of me, languid and spent after hours of sex with this alpha, flashed through my mind. I was turned on by Grayson. No wonder I flirted. I hadn’t had this kind of reaction to a male in a long time. It was dangerous. Risky. I could totally blow my cover of pretending to be human.
I traced a line on the spotless counter. Cass liked to keep it neat. Suddenly everything felt too tight, too wound up inside me. Too tidy. I wanted messy and sweaty and hot passion tangling between the sheets.
Not with just any male, but the one challenging me.
“Do you have to work tomorrow?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I’m off until next weekend. Day job’s shutting down until next Thursday, too.”
Although I’d been looking forward to peace and quiet for four days, I dreaded it as well. Lately the solo life made me restless and being restless meant I needed time outside to commune with nature. Maybe a walk in a park would suffice.
“Come back with us tonight. Stay a while. You’d like it at our home. We have plenty of woods, meadow, streams. The Timber Wolf retreat is relaxing and we have lots of room.”
“Sounds tempting, but I have stuff I’ve got to get done.” I pulled out two beer bottles from the cooler, handed them to Cass. “I could spare you a few hours. Maybe.”
Excuses, excuses.
“What I want is more than a few hours with you. That would never satisfy me.” His gaze burned into mine and then suddenly softened. “You’re worth much more, Sienna.”
Hot and bothered myself, I turned then strode off to attend to the demands at the bar’s far end.
Face flushed, I remained busy pouring drinks, but felt Grayson’s gaze burn into my back as I worked. If I kept bantering with Grayson, I might end up in trouble. Because climbing into bed with someone as lethal and sexy as that alpha werewolf could lower all my barriers. Make me spill secrets I did everything to keep hidden.
Sex itself proved risky. I enjoyed it, but felt emotionally vulnerable. So I’d gone without for the three years I’d been on the run.
Judging from Grayson’s flare of interest, he could strip away my layers, baring me as easily as he could rip away my clothing.
I needed to get away from him. Now. Before I did something I would regret.
Like ripping away my clothing and letting him take me naked on the bar until we both screamed our release.
Chapter 2
It had been too long since I’d had sex and I had to tamp down my arousal. Werewolves can smell your desire as easily as a starving man can smell grilled steak. It gets them cranked up, and ready to mate.
And I could not risk sex.
“Cass, can you spot me for a few?” I waved to her, and she nodded.
Instead of fresh air, I opted for the restroom and cold water on my face. Someone had turned off the hallway light, but my night vision picked out two figures near the door leading to the back business offices.
Blinking, I strained to see clearer. Dante and Peyton. Clearly they were not discussing business.
The alpha was kissing his mate, who hooked her arms around his neck. Then he lifted the hem of her dress, and pushed her against the wall.
“I can’t fucking wait,” he panted. “Now.”
I saw the gleam of his erection, Peyton’s pale thighs spread wide before the alpha plunged into her. Peyton gasped and moaned.
He fucked her, slamming her against the wall as Peyton buried her head into his shoulder. Dante growled and bit the sensitive arch of her neck and she stifled a cry.
Public sex wasn’t new to Crossroads. Couples hooked up all the time in this hallway. I’d made a point of avoiding it. And now, out of loyalty to my boss, I kept a lookout so no happy drunk would stumble back here and make a crude comment before they finished.
Judging from Dante’s groans and Peyton’s gasps, it wouldn’t take long.
He threw back his head with a guttural moan as she squeaked and shuddered.
Claiming me in the flesh.
Damn, if I felt hot before, I burned now.
Peyton slid down the wall as Dante arranged himself. Then the alpha gave his mate a tender, sweet kiss before taking her hand and leading her into a nearby office. The door closed behind them.
Emotion tightened my throat. I wanted what they shared.
I could never have what they shared.
Fortunately, the ladies room remained empty. Pulling off the gloves, I stared at my hands.
Glowing red. Sexual red. What Peyton had just experienced, I wanted with Grayson. Or Stephan. Or even silent, brooding Nicolas.
Any of those three would suffice.
Or even all three.
My lady parts screamed with need, the kind not satisfied by lube and a vibrator. I wanted a rough male, all sweat and muscle, holding me close as he fucked me into the eye rolling oblivion Peyton just experienced.
A long douse under the faucet finally dimmed the hue to pink again. Another splash on the face and thoughts of sex Jabba the Bun, the beefy and slimy lizard shifter who’d propositioned me last week, and desire faded like snow in Florida.
I put the gloves back on. Good to go.
Nathan waited for me in the hallway. The drunk shifter fumbled with his zipper.
I eyed him coolly and pointed to the restroom sign that indicated WOMEN. “Unless you plan to pee in the sink, and Dante won’t like that, you’re in the wrong place.”
“You owe me, human. I’ll settle for a quick one here in the hallway.” Nathan jerked down his trousers, freeing his half-erect shaft. “Get on your knees.”
“I get on my knees for no one.” I tried to push past, but he reached out and slammed me against the wall. His dick grew harder. Terrific. Alone in the hall with a shifter who got off on violence.
Nathan drew close to me, enough for me to scent the beer on his breath. “On your knees.”
My magick tingled, itched to show this asshole a lesson. Help the other women he probably bullied and assaulted. I told Nathan to do something anatomically impossible, and ducked under his arm. He went to grab me, but someone body slammed him against the opposite wall. Nathan’s dick went from happy to shriveled.
“The lady said no.” Grayson’s voice was a deep rumble as he fisted his hands in Nathan’s shirt and lifted him. “No means no. Apologize to Sienna.”
The beta stammered out an apology.
I put a hand on Grayson’s arm. “Easy, big guy. He’s just another drunk customer. Didn’t mean anything by it.”
The alpha lowered Nathan by his lapels, patted his cheek. “Get out.”
Seldom had I ever seen a shifter run so fast. Nathan was out the door before you could say “buh bye.”
Blowing out a breath, Grayson scowled. “You should have an escort to the restroom. Lowlife shifters like Nathan are predators who lie in wait for women and take advantage of them.”
“I can take care of myself.” I went to push past him, but his arm shot out, blocking my way.
“You smell so damn good.” He took a long drag of air.
“It’s called Eau de Jack Daniels.”
Grayson’s interest unnerved me. Not because it was unwanted, like Nathan’s, but because he made me itch and burn with need.
“I mean it. Beneath all the beer, liquor and scents of this place, you smell like cedar and freshly mowed grass.” Grayson’s nostrils flared. “Irresistible.”
I lifted my face and licked my lips. Stared at his mouth with longing I knew I could not disguise. One kiss wouldn’t hurt. Just one. It had been so long.
“I hear werewolves are good in bed,” I murmured. “But once they kiss you, you never want anyone else. Guess it’s a myth.”
A growl rose from his throat.
“Or not.”
I’d tempted the beast and unlatched the lock on the cage. Still he hovered, a breath away, his gaze dark, almost pleading. Fascinated by his tight control, I touched his cheek, running my fingers over the slight bristles on his face.
A familiar quickening filled me, as if I had done this before. But Grayson and I had never touched, not like this. Yet I knew him, knew this feeling, as if he had sank into my mind, and my body, and knew me intimately.
Could he be the werewolf who had rescued me in the forest when I was a child, and later, pleasured me in my sleep, making me writhe and clutch the sheets as I climaxed from his tender ministrations?
Grayson pulled away, searching my gaze. “I never go where I’m not wanted, Sienna.”
I touched his chest, feeling muscle and sinew beneath my trembling fingers. “Who says you’re not wanted?”
I added in a low whisper, “Kiss me.”
With another low growl, his mouth met mine in a hard, swift claim of possession. Heat flared in my body, the primitive desire flaming the powers I desperately leashed. I leaned into the kiss, my tongue stroking his as he cupped the back of my head, holding me still for his possession, the way a male wolf will grip a female in throes of mating.
I’d been kissed by others before. This was different. A desperation lingered beneath his mouth, intent mingling with pure male need. Grayson kissed me as if we were in a bedroom, not the hallway, and planned to rip off my clothing, tumble me backwards onto bed and drive deep inside me.
This seemed eerily familiar, as if we’d kissed this way before. I needed more. Craved more.
I fisted my hands in the lapels of his jacket, drawing him closer. I wanted to crawl inside him, feel all that glorious male power and muscle stroking deep inside my body. Rubbing against him, I tried to satisfy this need that flamed, crowding out all else – common sense, thought. Reason.
He pulled away, his gaze dark as pitch. “No.” Grayson’s voice turned guttural. “Not here. You deserve better. Silk sheets, a soft bed, hours of long loving, Sienna. Not this.”
Panting, I stepped away, trying to force myself back to Planet Earth. Fool!
Grayson cupped my cheek. “You okay?”
Shrugging, I stepped back even more. A few minutes more of that and I would have climaxed. From a kiss! I was a fool. Orgasm meant possible loss of control of my body and magick, especially in a place like this surrounded by shifters.
“Gotta get back to the bar before Cass looks for me,” I muttered.
Not even turning to see if he followed, or went into the men’s room to have a happy session with his hand to finish what we’d started, I almost ran to the bar. Once there, I pulled out a cold pop and swigged it down, rolling the bottle over my sweating forehead. Cass gave me an odd look, but left me alone.
A tingle rushed down my spine as Grayson returned to the bar, slid back on his stool. Judging from the bulge in his jeans, he hadn’t ventured near the men’s room.
He was as frustrated as me.
I helped Cass fill orders, fetched Grayson a beer, even though he didn’t request one. I sensed he needed it.
Cass gave me a sympathetic look as things slowed down. “Go take your dinner break.”
As I left the bar, Stephan waved me over as Nicolas stared into his beer. I walked over, glad for a reprieve. Needed dinner, anyway. My stomach grumbled, reminding me to take advantage of the free food Dante offered staff.
I liked Stephan. He always put me at ease, while Grayson made me tense in a different way.
Nicolas, though. He barely glanced at me.
“Pull up a chair.” This from gregarious Stephan. He looked cheerful. If he had a tail right now, it would be wagging. “How are you, Sienna?”
“Fine.” I perched on the chair’s edge. “You guys need anything? I have to make sure my best customers are happy. Hi Nick.”
Nicolas nodded. The dark, brooding type who seldom talked. Not even when
I call him a name no one else does.
“You’re the only one who gets away with calling him Nick,” Stephan observed.
A little pleased, I shrugged. “If you didn’t like it, Nick, then I’d count on you to be square with me and let me know. Do you like it?”
The challenge in my words finally made him sit up and look straight at me. Nicolas had sensitive brown eyes, but his expression was hard. “Maybe. If I heard you screaming it in bed, I’d like it a hell of a lot.”
A flush warmed my face. Stephan looked interested. “Sienna, you’re blushing.”
“Warm in here,” I muttered.
A waitress came over, pad in hand. “Sienna hon, what do you want for dinner?”
“Twenty chicken tenders with barbecue sauce,” I told her.
She nodded and scurried away.
“Twenty tenders?” Stephan leaned forward. “Girl, you must be hungry.”
Too embarrassed to admit it was my only meal since yesterday, I shrugged. “I always share. I hate to eat alone.”
Stephan tensed and murmured something about not being hungry. He refused to meet my gaze. Now it was his turn to blush.
Nicolas shook his head. “We ate already,” he said, glanced at Stephan. “Brought down a nice big deer before coming here.”
Stephan seemed to relax a little. “Yeah.”
“Well, if you change your mind, there’s plenty,” I told them both, puzzled by Stephan’s reaction. Did he have something against fried chicken?
The waitress came back with my tenders and a bottle of water. Dante always made sure our favorite foods were served as quick as possible to get us back to work, and keep us fed.
Between bites of chicken tenders, I chatted with Stephan about movies he’d seen recently. He was his usual animated self, but kept studying my food, practically salivating. Sensing his hunger, I pushed the plate closer.
Immediately he tensed up. “I hate bar food,” he muttered, gulping down his beer.
