by Fel Fern

Hard to Handle 1
Hard to Handle
[Siren Classic ManLove: Alternative, Paranormal, Shape-shifter, Werewolves/vampires, MM, HEA]
Party boy and trust fund baby Max Shepard makes the worst mistake of his life when he insults a shifter at a club. Max thinks he’s done for until he’s saved by a sexy and smoldering werewolf named Grant Wells. Grant’s six-foot-six of hotness but there’s just one problem. Grant is the new bodyguard hired by Max’s father which makes Max obligated to hate him. Except Max can’t hate his mate. Max doesn’t know it yet but the closer he gets to Grant, the more he will be in danger.
Grant’s lived his entire life fighting. He’s been a soldier, a shield and a killer. The wolf that shares his skin is violent and unstable. Grant knows he’s not built for a mate, and yet something about Max draws him close. Max is his charge, his responsibility. Grant doesn’t mix professional responsibilities with his personal life but Max is about to change all that.
Length: 25,500 words
HARD TO HANDLE
Hard to Handle 1
FEL FERN

Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
Hard to Handle
Copyright © 2020 by Fel Fern
ISBN: 978-1-64637-068-9
First Publication: January 2020
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2020 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
DEDICATION
To my readers, I hope you enjoy the first book in my new series.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Felicia Fern loves penning M/M paranormal erotic romance.
A sadist who loves watching her heroes break their backs trying to earn their happy endings, Fel likes throwing in the occasional dash of the unknown to the usual romantic concoction.
www.felfern.com
https://tinyletter.com/authorfelfern
https://www.facebook.com/author.felfern
For all titles by Fel Fern, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/Fel-Fern
TABLE OF CONTENTS
HARD TO HANDLE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
HARD TO HANDLE
Hard to Handle 1
FEL FERN
Copyright © 2020
Chapter 1
“You can drop me off here, Jeeves,” Maxwell Shepard told his driver.
“It’s James,” grumbled the driver.
“Whatever. I won’t be long. I’m hitting two other clubs tonight, so stick around,” Max said, checking his phone. His best friend Chad hadn’t replied to his text yet. Bummer. It didn’t matter. Max knew how to have fun on his own, until Chad arrived anyway.
“Won’t be easy, getting parking in this part of the city,” Jeeves complained. “And didn’t your father warn you to stay indoors until he finds you a new bodyguard?”
This again? Coming from an important family, his life was always in danger. There were always threats to his father and the pack. His father always assigned a shifter bodyguard to him, but Max always ran them off. He wasn’t twelve anymore for crying out loud. Max didn’t need a bodyguard. Besides, he always managed to send all those tough shifters crying home. No one could stand him and he made sure of it.
Max opened up his phone camera and used it as a mirror. He ignored Jeeves’ question and studied his pristine reflection. Artfully messed up dark brown hair and vivid green eyes looked back at him.
Perfect. Humans didn’t normally have that kind of eye color, but it was thanks to his father’s shifter DNA. Max unfortunately, or rather, fortunately, did not inherit his father’s werewolf-shifting genes.
Thank God. Max grew up amongst werewolves. Shifting looked painful, and imagine, needing to roll around in the dirt and run in wolf form during the full moon.
“Just wait for my text,” Max told his driver. “I’m sure you can figure something out. That’s the reason my father’s paying you a lot, isn’t it?”
Jeeves continued to grumble something else under his breath. Something about Max being lucky he had special treatment just because he was Daniel Shepard’s human son. Whatever. He ought to complain to his dad about Jeeves not doing his job properly. Scratch that. His father didn’t need to know he went out tonight.
Ignoring the disgruntled werewolf, Max opened his door and stepped out. Max gave his ten-thousand-dollar suit jacket a tug and walked past the queuing crowd and right up to the bouncer.
He sighed, not recognizing this particular muscular grunt.
“Line’s that way,” the guy said, pointing to the crowd.
“Where’s Lenny? He knows me, usually just lets me through,” Max said in his usual flippant tone.
Usually, it worked but this particular bulb wasn’t so bright. The shifter—what else could he be, with all that growling—continued to glare at him.
“Who do you think you are, human?”
Max was tempted to take a step back, reconsider his options, but he didn’t. Growing up as a human in a house full of werewolves had taught him one thing. He should never back down or he’d never get anywhere. Max might be human, but he also had claws.
“Me? I’m the son of Daniel Shepard. Know who that is?” Max knew it was wrong, toting out his father’s name all the time, but this shifter was wasting his time. He should already be in there, winding down and enjoying his drink while waiting for Chad.
“You’re human,” the shifter said with a sneer.
He said the word like it was something foul. Max turned up his nose at that. He didn’t want to bring in the big guns, but one press on the button of his phone, a fake distress call, and his father’s men would come running. Okay, that might be overdoing things. Max wasn’t that horrible.
Another bouncer came running up to him. Lenny. Thank God.
“Bruiser, he’s good,” Lenny said. “Let him in. His father owns half this club’s shares.”
“Bruiser, that’s your name?” Max couldn’t help himself. He laughed until his stomach hurt, which only made Bruiser stare daggers at him. Max knew he shouldn’t be making enemies, but what the hell. He only wanted to get drunk and do stupid things. Forget his sorrows.
“Max, go right in and try to not cause any unnecessary trouble,” Lenny told him.
“Thanks, Lenny.” Max breezed past the two shifters, ignored the whispering voices in the line. Someone even demanded to know why they let him in, but Max was used to the attention. He made his
way to the bar and ordered his favorite martini.
He stirred his drink. A few daring shifters tried to hit on him, but none of them interested him. Slick players tried to get into his pants all time, but they had no interest in knowing the real him. The only thing that mattered to them was the fact Max carried the Shepard family name.
Just like Eric the Prick. Max should’ve known better than to actually believe that Eric wanted, genuinely wanted to start a real relationship with him.
He finished his drink, asked for another.
“Shouldn’t you be slowing down?” asked a familiar voice.
Chad took the empty seat next to him and ordered a beer. Chad and he were practically joined at the hip and grew up together. Chad’s family was also influential, and his pack was the second largest werewolf pack in the city, only second to Max’s father’s pack.
Chad might not be human, but a submissive werewolf, but they shared the same interests, ran in the same circles.
“I’m heartbroken. I deserve several drinks,” he told his best friend.
“What? I thought Eric and you were going places.”
“Places? He only wanted to get to my dad.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, Max. Then he’s a grade-A dick.”
He scoffed. “Damn right. Cheers to being single. One-night stands are really the best.”
“Cheers to that. You see anyone you like yet? I noticed that cute blond hitting on you a few minutes ago?”
“Oh, him?” Max asked in a bored voice. “Nah. Is it my imagination or this place suddenly stinks?”
“Does it? You want to leave? Wait a second.” Chad looked left and right, and Max rolled his eyes. “Where’s Tom, or was it Tim? Your bodyguard.”
“Please. I had my dad fire him a week ago.”
Chad shook his head, looking amused. “You got to stop doing that, Max. I mean, everyone knows you got to stop being reckless. Your dad can’t bail you out of trouble all the time.”
“Look who’s talking. Didn’t your dad pay off that photographer who threatened to publish the pictures of you and your ex Finn a month ago?”
Chad colored, and he regretted his words immediately. Like him, Chad had made the same mistake of falling for a guy who only wanted to use him.
“Chad—” he began, knowing he had stepped out of the line. Chad brushed his hand off.
“We’re supposed to be friends but, Max? Sometimes you can really be a dick. Don’t follow me,” Chad snapped, before leaving him alone.
“Who needs friends like that?” Max returned to the bar, nursed another drink.
He took out his phone. It wasn’t like Chad was his only friend. Right? Max browsed through the contacts in his phone. More than a hundred of them and yet all of the names meant nothing to him. Apart from Chad, most of his so-called friends only cared about their own self-interests, were attention-whores. After all, they all came from the same stock as he did. Their family had money, connections.
He knew they were toxic, but he hung around them anyway.
Max got hit on by another guy again on his way out.
“Asshole,” muttered the guy.
Max texted Jeeves to pick him up at the alleyway behind the club. That way, he didn’t need to see that annoying bouncer again, and no one would have to see him slink off like some kind of defeated dog. No doubt some members of the paparazzi would also be outside. They loved a good story, and he wouldn’t be too surprised if Eric had babbled to them about their relationship.
No response from Jeeves. The club suddenly felt suffocating. The dance music sounded like buzzing bees in his ears. Max undid the first two buttons of his favorite Italian silk shirt. He left through the club’s side doors and found himself in a quiet alleyway.
It stank of garbage, sewage, but the air felt good on his face. The cold whipped at his body, and he suddenly became aware of how quiet it was here. He thought he spotted a homeless guy by the garbage bin or was it a druggie?
He looked at his phone. Jeeves said he was on his way, but knowing the traffic, Jeeves might only get here after half an hour. Max might as well wait in the club. With so many people around, he’d feel a little safer.
Max was about to head in, except he bumped into a wall. Someone’s massive chest.
“Look who it is,” a dry voice said.
Max looked up, gulped seeing Bruiser staring down at him. Bruiser wasn’t alone either. He had another bouncer, not Lenny, with him.
Chapter 2
“Where do you think you’re going?” Bruiser asked in a mocking voice, pressing a hand to his chest.
Max flung Bruiser’s hand away and silently yelled at his beating heart to be still. Shifters noticed the smallest things. Body language. Change in breathing. Things like that. Even if he was scared, Max should act like he wasn’t.
“Back to the club. I wanted to get some air,” Max said. “Now get out of my way.”
Those must have been the wrong words, because Bruiser gave him a shove backwards.
“You’re right, Bruiser. What a prick,” Bruiser’s companion said with a laugh. “We should teach this little trust-fund baby some manners.”
“My father—” he began, but Bruiser shut him up with a backhanded slap that sent his head reeling. He groaned at the sharp pain that zipped up his skull.
“Daddy’s always bailing you out, isn’t he? Well, he ain’t here,” Bruiser said.
The two shifters backed Max to the wall. He swallowed.
“Look at him, Skull. Lost all his nerve when he realized he can’t use his get-out-of-jail card,” Bruiser said.
Skull laughed, the sound reminding Max of breaking glass. It made Max wonder if Skull was a hyena shifter or something.
Bruiser cracked his knuckles.
“You want money? I have lots of that,” he blurted. “Just forget this ever happen.”
“Money? That your answer to everything?” Bruiser demanded. “You can’t put a price tag on pride, human, and you just bruised my ego.”
“You sure, Bruiser? Some extra cash sounds tempting. Why don’t we take his offer, mess him up just a little bit, then be on our way, a little richer?” Skull asked, only for Bruiser to give his pal a shove.
“I call the shots here. You’re here as my lookout.”
Skull closed the door behind him, extinguishing Max’s last hope of running back in and calling for help. Damn. Max didn’t possess shifter speed, so they’d probably catch him before he breezed past those doors.
Chad’s warning came back to him. Max should’ve just braved the front door. Then he wouldn’t be stuck here, waiting for two dangerous shifters to pound him against the piss and graffiti-stained wall.
“Go look,” Bruiser yelled, pointing to the direction of alleyway exit. “Make sure no one gets in.”
Skull rolled his eyes at Bruiser, but nonetheless obeyed his commands.
Bruiser then turned his attention back to Max. His heart nearly came to a stop.
“Now it’s just you and me. I’ve watched you all night, pretty boy. You think you’re hot stuff, rejecting all those shifters who hit on you? Well, you’re about to find out what it’s like, being with a real animal.”
Max could only watch, horrified, as Bruiser unbuckled his belt and undid his pants.
No! That single word propelled him into action. Max ran, despite knowing he didn’t stand a chance. Bruiser seized his arm, shoved him back against the wall. Max cried out for help, but the shifter put one big hand over his mouth, silencing him.
God. No one was going to save him. Max only hoped this was some kind of sick nightmare he could wake up from soon.
* * * *
Grant Wells pushed his way past the people in the club in annoyance. One death glare and people cleared a path for him. Grant was supposed to meet Max, the human Daniel had assigned him to protect, tonight. Instead, when he arrived at Max’s uptown apartment an hour ago, he’d learned the human had slipped away and taken his driver with him.
Just his
luck. Rather, Max probably did this on purpose. Daniel had warned Grant his son would be hard to handle. He’d brushed it off, told the Alpha he could look after one spoiled human. Daniel had only laughed his head off, like Grant didn’t know what he was getting into.
Thank God he managed to get in contact with James. Max was somewhere in this crowded club. Why anyone would come here for a good time, was beyond Grant. He never did well around crowds, around people in general. It didn’t take him long to find out this was where young adults in their twenties with money liked to hook up.
He thought it would be easy, tracking down his errant human, but it was like finding a needle in a haystack. That was saying plenty, given Grant used to be one of the best trackers back when he served in the Paranormal Army’s Special Forces.
Grant gripped the shirt he’d borrowed from Max’s apartment. One quick search online showed him this simple cotton designer shirt cost a thousand bucks. He shook his head. Grant would’ve never taken up this assignment if it didn’t pay plenty. He needed the cash to pay for Gill, his younger brother’s, hospital bills.
There. Grant’s nose led him to tight passageway that led out of the main area of the club and what looked like a main entrance. Max’s scent was practically untraceable in the club. Barely there, which told him the human hadn’t lingered here long. With so many other smells mixing, it had been close to impossible to pin down Max, but Grant didn’t give up easily.
The wolf that shared his skin growled softly in warning. Max’s scent, an intriguing mix of mint and chocolate, remained strongest here. Max was right outside this door, but he wasn’t alone. His wolf alerted him to the presence of two other shifters.
They’d pose no threat to Grant. He’d eliminate whatever came between him and his prize.
