by Sky Winters
Chapter 2
The party had raged on late into the night, and it only started dwindling after the sun started to rise. She and Tanner had gotten pretty wasted together, but it was like old times. They were snuggled in the back of an old truck watching the sun paint the sky in oranges and pinks, laughing about things their friends had done at the party, and daydreaming about the future.
“So are you seeing anyone yet?” Tanner finally asked her. The two of them had dated briefly in middle school, but they both quickly learned that they made far better friends than romantic companions. They had stuck together through thick and thin though, and he was always worried about whether or not she was happy.
“No, I’m not,” she laughed, smacking him. “Why are you always so interested?”
“Because after Jake, things just haven’t been the same with you. I think you really haven’t had a chance to move on, and a new relationship would really help you out.”
Tanner looked seriously at her through his tired, slits of eyes and she sighed, smacking him with her bag.
“It’s not a big deal. I don’t need a man to make me happy.”
“No, but it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy the dating pool again. You were so caught up in that guy, but he was awful to you from the start. It sucks. And now you’re too scared to try dating again.”
“Who says I’m too scared?” Mel asked, indignant. She pushed her long, dark brown hair back and looked hard at him with her intense blue eyes.
“All right, suit yourself,” Tanner said laughing. “But you are.”
“Come on!”
“I bet you haven’t even gotten laid in like two years.”
She looked at him with her lips pursed and he cracked up laughing. Two years was a long time.
“You know that’s not true.”
“Yeah, well call me crazy but I’m worried about you. I want to see you putting yourself out there more.”
“I’m too busy trying to get word out about the band.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t let some steam off with a guy you like!” Tanner protested. She smacked him with her bag again and he laughed.
“I know. Have you heard of ComeShift?” he asked.
“Come what?”
“ComeShift. It’s this hook up app. It gets you in touch with shapeshifters. I know your try with regular guys didn’t suit you very well. Maybe you need something a little bit different. You’re pretty wild, I think it suits you.”
“Shapeshifters huh? I never thought about it.”
“Of course not. That’s why I’m going to dare you to make a profile right now. Dude, you can do so much better than Jake. Give me your phone.”
“Um…”
Tanner snatched her bag away from her and rummaged through it, pulling her phone out of it. He started typing slowly, clearly still buzzed from the partying they had done. She laughed.
“What are you doing?”
“There,” he said, handing the phone back to her. “I just signed you up.”
“Oh my god, you made my username ‘DancesWithWolves69?’” she cried, smacking him with her bag a third time. He dissolved into giggles.
“Melanie was taken,” he said with a shrug.
“If I didn’t love you so much I’d kill you. You know that right?”
“Yup,” he said.
They lay together in the truck a while longer before she finally felt sober enough to head home. She and Tanner hugged when they parted ways, and she walked through the door of her small apartment.
ComeShift? Who knew what she was in for on a site like that. But she couldn’t deny that she felt a little thrill knowing that she had done something different, and a little dangerous. Everybody knew that the shifters were intense, difficult people. It was in their genetic makeup to break all the rules. But they were also wildly sexy. It was just hook ups. She could use a little steaminess in her otherwise hectic life. Maybe it would be fun after all.
Chapter 3
Weston Randall gazed out the window of his perch in the back of his limo, staring at the little bar. It was a typical New York haunt; small, cozy, and full of life. He’d had his eye on it for a while now, and considered its location as prime. He rolled the window down in his limousine, glancing at the newspaper stand beside the bar. His face was plastered all over the most recent issue of one of the popular magazines, naming him one of New York’s most successful men under 30.
He was proud of himself, though the magazine’s editor had begged them to keep out the fact that he was a shapeshifter. His kind were very controversial, and he thought that people might not relate to a man whose ruthless business sense might come from a no-nonsense and aggressive genepool. He was already seductively handsome. Most men couldn’t compete with that.
Weston had never been ashamed to be a shifter and rarely hid who he was from anybody, but he agreed for the feature’s sake to keep his blood line out of it. The editor had argued that it might be discouraging to humans without shifter blood if they couldn’t relate to him. They all wanted the secret to success, and if the secret was to be a wily bastard and only half human, most of the men reading the article wouldn’t be able to succeed. It was simple business; or so the editor had said. They featured him to sell stories, not to lose readers.
But there he was, sniffing out the joint with his feral wolf’s senses. Something told him that this was a good place to be. At least right at that particular moment. Somebody inside smelled irresistible.
“Wait here for me,” he told his driver. Normally, he wouldn’t be caught dead inside a bar. At least not one outside of the safety of the shifter country clubs that had been built to protect the wealthy shifters from the public eye. But he couldn’t help himself. Something was luring him in.
When he opened the door, he paused. A gorgeous, voluptuous woman was on stage, tuning her guitar. She was radiating the smell that had set his senses to tingling, and he made his way slowly toward the stage, careful to stay out of sight. The interior of the bar was actually quite posh and comfortable. Couples were chatting and dancing to the music on the loudspeakers as the captivating woman set up the stage for her performance.
He took it all in as he watched Melanie, examining the architecture and making mental notes of things he liked and things he might want to change when he bought the place. All the while he kept his eyes and ears on Melanie, who had just finished with her preparations and started to sing.
He was instantly enamored, and took a seat at one of the round, candle-lit tables. It was a nice bar, he decided. Classy but not snobby. He leaned back in his wooden chair, and kept his eyes on the woman’s beautiful face. He especially liked the way her lips moved when she sang, their fullness never leaving his sight. And her smell. He couldn’t get enough.
If she was interested in shifters, he would find out. Most women were intimidated by them, but a few had made it their life’s choice only to date shifter men. He couldn’t peg her preferences from the stage, not when she was putting her all into the music like that, but if she was openly attracted to shifters, he would smell it upon meeting her.
He wasn’t sure he could wait that long to find out. Perhaps she would have a profile on the ComeShift app. It was one of the many ways he had made his fortune, though the editorial had also been vague about this, saying only that he had engineered a popular dating app for smartphones. He found it insulting, but at the same time, Weston was okay with focusing on his other works during the interview. These projects often stayed under the radar of the public eye and he was happy to draw attention to them.
How was he going to find out who she was on the app without a name though? He sighed in frustration. And then, the first song ended and a miracle occurred.
“I’m Mel with the Blue Rangers. Thank you for coming tonight and listening to our stuff.”
The Blue Rangers. Weston typed the name of her band into his search browser, and his phone immediately pulled up the website for her band. Her name was Melanie Fras
er. He scrolled through the website as he listened to her set, his mind on one thing and one thing alone – making her his.
He pulled up the ComeShift app and searched her name. He was shocked to discover that she was there, and her account was under the username “DancesWithWolves69.” His heart hammered in his chest as he considered the possibilities. She was interested in shifters. Apparently, specifically the wolves. Like himself.
The band started playing again and his eyes turned from her profile, which was barely filled out, to her face. The gorgeous woman could belt out a song like there was no tomorrow, and her skill on her instrument was astounding. How was she not famous? It baffled him. She must not have had many opportunities to be heard by the right people.
Weston glanced at his watch. It was getting late, and he had planned to meet a few friends at the club for dinner. But they would understand his distraction. Once he had his mind set, he couldn’t let it go.
As the set drew to a close, his sharp green eyes followed Melanie off stage. Before she had a chance to leave, he sent her his invitation. It was one she would be unable to refuse. He smirked to himself, and stirred his drink. Now it was time to play the waiting game.
Chapter 4
Melanie took a long drink of water and felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.
“Great job guys,” she said to her band members as they filed past her.
“Hell yeah!” George cried.
“That was awesome,” Tammy agreed.
She watched as her band members left, her body still bristling with excitement. They were all pleased to have landed the gig at the bar. It was a follow up, which made it even cooler. It was nice knowing that they were being appreciated enough to be asked back.
She put her guitar in its case and heaved it over her back, pulling her phone out to check her messages. It wasn’t an ordinary text though. It was her first message from the ComeShift app. She felt a burst of excitement electrify her chest. She hadn’t realized that she was so interested in hooking up with a shifter. But somehow, just seeing that someone had found her profile and was asking about her had deeply aroused her.
Mel walked out to the bar and leaned on the counter as she opened the message. Her hands were trembling, both from the adrenaline of the show and from her excitement. The message was straight and direct, from a man named Wes. His handsome, brooding face was pensive and gorgeous, and she could tell that he was ripped like a god from the tight button-up shirt he was wearing.
“Melanie Fraser. I’m at the bar with you tonight. Let me buy you a drink.”
Her eyes lingered on his picture, and her heart thudded in her chest. He was incredibly handsome. Since Jake had broken up with her, she hadn’t found herself this attracted to another man. But that was just a picture. Who knew if he was going to look just as good in person? But it wasn’t like she was going to get engaged with the guy. It was a hook up app. Hook ups meant casual sex and free drinks.
She swallowed hard. It had been a long time since her arousal had become so physical. Tanner was exaggerating when he said she probably hadn’t been laid in two years, but he was mostly right. It had definitely been a while since the last time she had allowed herself to feel good. She owed it to herself. She had been working so hard lately that it wouldn’t hurt her to have a little bit of fun.
“Okay,” she replied.
***
Moments later, Weston Randall was standing beside her, holding two drinks in his impossibly strong looking hands. He had the longest and most beautiful fingers she had ever seen on a man, and she couldn’t help but stare at them as he offered her the most expensive drink the bar offered. It was the house special, a twist on a martini, and she felt almost like a celebrity, going off-set and being offered such an extravagant drink by such an exquisite man.
Weston’s jet black hair was combed back off his face, revealing his broad forehead and perfectly sculpted black eyebrows. His golden eyes sparkled down at her, and she found herself immediately drawn to him, as if he possessed some secret to a happy life that she had always been looking for. He exuded charisma and charm, and seemed to represent a lifestyle that she could only dream of.
“Good evening,” he said in a deep, rumbling voice.
“Hi,” she said softly.
They looked each other up and down, both seeming to be pleased with what they had found.
“You have a wonderful voice,” Weston said, pulling out a stool for her to sit on. She took her seat and he stood close to her, his dark amber colored eyes fixed on her. She felt naked in his gaze.
“Thank you,” she said. “How did you know I was here?”
She had mentioned on her profile that she was a musician, and if the man had looked up the gigs her band would be playing then that could mean that he was a creep. Or maybe it had been a stroke of luck on her part. He was flawless. Everything from his face to his muscular body was ideal. Maybe her question really was, “How did you find me and why are you still here?” She felt like he was way out of her league.
“My name is Weston Randall,” he said, ordering himself a drink from the bartender. “I was here checking the bar out and thought I’d see if you might be interested in something a little…less vanilla than other women.”
The lilt in his voice was driving Melanie crazy. He was completely stunning, and the suggestion he boldly made, casually mentioning sex but in such a classy manner, brought a powerful surge of desire to her body. Did he know how he was making her feel? From the look on his wolfish face, he must.
“I…honestly I’ve never tried anything like this before,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper. She was afraid of scaring him away, but she wanted to be honest.
“Oh really?” he asked, his face now glowing with pleasure.
He was even more excited to be speaking with her now. She was beautiful, almost virginal, and she had never been marked by another shifter before. That meant that he would set the standards for her. He hadn’t been with a human woman in a long time, and those who he did hook up with were usually very boring and predictable.
He had a feeling that Melanie was quite different though. He could tell from her smell. He would stop at nothing to have her.
“Yeah,” she said, sipping her drink. She didn’t feel comfortable speaking to him so boldly in front of the bartender, and waited until he moved further away before she continued. “To be honest, I don’t really know what I’m doing.”
“Ah,” Weston said with a handsome grin. Then you’re not going to be very experienced. Is that your concern? Do you think I will find you frustrating?”
Melanie swallowed hard. She had never been so close to someone who exuded such raw sexual energy. It was intimidating in a way, but it also seemed to be putting her under some kind of spell. She was having a hard time concentrating as every word out of his mouth seemed to awaken her from the repressed sexual slumber she had been forcing herself into after her bad relationship with Jake.
“It is a concern,” she said. Her throat felt suddenly dry, and she sipped her martini hybrid for dear life.
“I can assure you that frustration will be the last thing we will be feeling,” Weston said with a smirk.
He took Melanie’s hand, and she found herself unable to resist as he led her outside the bar. As soon as Weston emerged, his driver scrambled out of the car and opened the door of a long black limousine. Weston insisted Melanie step inside, and although she had never been more nervous, she agreed.
Chapter 5
Melanie’s heart dropped when the limo pulled into a vast Manhattan estate. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. Vast green lawns and gardens, flowers and ornate statues and fountains. All of that was nothing though when they reached the actual house. She wasn’t even sure she could call it a house; it was some kind of castle or mansion. She didn’t know that anybody still lived in places like this.
“Whoa,” she breathed.”
“Welcome to my home,” Weston said, turning his shimme
ring golden eyes onto her. Whenever he spoke directly to her like that, it made her heart lurch. There always seemed to be more that he wasn’t saying. Maybe this was typical of shifters. They used body language more often than they used verbal cues to convey messages, which was why so many of them found themselves brawling with human males and unable to tolerate steady relationships with females.
“This is unbelievable,” Melanie exclaimed as he led her out of the limousine and up a winding brick path to the entrance of his manor.
“It’s all right,” Weston said with a grin. “I try my best to earn a living.”
“I can’t believe it,” she whispered as the door of the manor opened to reveal a stunning parlor. A winding spiral staircase led upstairs, and the ceilings were high. She looked up and gasped at the chandelier that was hanging above her head. “I’ve never been somewhere this extravagant.”
“This is nothing,” he said, suddenly in front of her, his wild eyes glowing down at her. “Wait until you see my bedroom.”
Again, that irresistible thrill coursed through her body as Weston casually let her in on the sexual inner workings of his mind. He laced his arm through hers and led her up the staircase, pulling off his jacket and tossing it over the railing of the stairs. A woman immediately emerged and picked it up, scurrying away with it to hide it away in some unseen closet.
“You shouldn’t make them work so hard,” Melanie said, raising her eyebrow up at Weston. He looked down at her in surprise, then glanced at the woman who was rushing to put his coat away.
“They’re compensated generously for it,” he said, though a note in his voice told her that he was now suddenly unsure of himself. This was a good sign as far as Melanie was concerned. He wasn’t heartless, whether he was spoiled and cocky or not.
“That’s good,” she said, trying to keep her voice non-committal. She didn’t want to ruin her chances with him. Her body was on fire and had been since the moment she’d laid eyes on his profile. If she messed it up now, she wouldn’t forgive herself.
