Cover Copy
Some things are best to forget. But what if the past won't be forgotten?
Born in China of a pure shifter bloodline, Katrina was raised with only one purpose–to breed. Abused by her alpha, she runs away to America as soon as she can. With a new pack and her true mate, she thinks the nightmare is behind her, but when she is abducted on the streets of Chinatown, Katrina must face her past and fight for her freedom.
It took Tyler a year to earn Katrina's love, another to build her confidence and pride, and only a moment to lose her. Broken-hearted, Tyler won't give up his search for Katrina. But he never trained as a warrior like the other shifters. What chance does a real estate agent have in the fight for his mate?
WARNING: Explicit shifter sex, heartbroken torment, and an unstoppable shifter in love.
Teaser
She laughed, drawing him in for a chaste kiss. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” It was all he could think to say. Every year Chicago held a small Rube Goldberg contest. He’d competed since high school. Developing over-engineered machines that performed simple tasks, usually involving a chain reaction, summed up his life. Finally winning left him empty. His true contest lay in convincing Katrina to marry him. She was the ultimate prize.
She’d blown his mind when she’d suggested a tryst in the men’s room. A huge step for her to be so open about her sexuality. She’d been so abused by her old pack. He thought he’d never get through those barriers. Then one night, two years ago, she’d knocked on his bedroom door and told him she wouldn’t live in the past anymore.
That he, Tyler McCoy, was her future. Unbelievable, even now.
Setting her down on her feet, he tugged at her hem and fixed her dress. He picked up her torn panties. “I don’t suppose you want these?”
She laughed. “Keep them as a souvenir. Just do not pin them on the bedroom wall like last time.”
Omegas in Love
By Annie Nicholas
Omegas in Love
9781616503604
Copyright © 2012, Annie Nicholas
Edited by Piper Denna
Book design by Lyrical Press, Inc.
Cover Art by Renee Rocco
First Lyrical Press, Inc. electronic publication: March, 2012
Lyrical Press, Incorporated
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PUBLISHER'S NOTE:
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
Published in the United States of America by Lyrical Press, Incorporated
Dedication
To my husband and sons who keep supporting my long hours at the computer.
Chapter 1
Sex got better with time, and being with Katrina these past two years had proved it. Tyler twisted in the cramped bathroom stall as Katrina squeezed in against him and closed the door. An electric shock of pain shot along his nerve–he’d jarred his funny bone against a metal bolt that held the faded fiberglass walls together. “It’s too narrow in here. I can’t maneuver.”
“That is half the fun.” Katrina whispered with her Asian accent, then undid his zipper.
His pain vanished.
She knelt in front of him and pulled his waistband below his hips. His cock had thickened when she’d asked him to follow her to the restaurant’s bathroom after lunch, so he was already erect. She caressed him, her delicate hands confident in their movement.
Never, in a thousand years, would he have guessed they’d be in this position one day. He took a shaky breath and leaned his weight against the cool wall behind him. They’d grown so close, he couldn’t imagine a future without her.
Leaning forward, she licked her ruby red lips before wrapping them around his shaft. At a slow, easy pace she swallowed him.
Time stopped. Mesmerized, he couldn’t pull away his gaze. Her thick lashes formed crescent moons when she closed her eyes and stroked her tongue against him. So soft and smooth…
He moaned and it echoed in the closed-in space. Cutting the sound off in a gasp, he leaned his head back against the stall. “Everyone in the restaurant will hear me, Kat.”
Ignoring his protests, she withdrew from him, then slid his cock farther down her throat, sucking him into a moist, warm haven.
Bracing the stall as if it were caving in, he remained on his feet, even though his knees threatened to give out while her rhythm became more demanding. Oh God. Short of breath, he struggled with his inner wolf-like beast. Its presence rose, threatening a shift. “Kat…” He tried to warn and whisper, but it came out more like encouragement.
The beast part of him loved Katrina as much as the human did and it wanted to participate. However, public shifting was forbidden by his alpha.
The scent of Katrina’s beast filled his nose. Shit. She was close to shifting as well. Things became more aggressive when her wolf-shifter nature joined them in sex, which would be great at home, not in a fucking public bathroom. His afternoon was going to get very, very complicated if he didn’t tone things down.
She grasped his ass and dug her long nails-turned-claws into his skin.
All his reasoning ability crumbled with the pain–oh–the pain. It turned into searing pleasure. His internal wires must be crossed somewhere for him to love the claws.
The door to the bathroom creaked open and Tyler swallowed a groan. He almost had an aneurysm.
Footsteps followed, with the sound of unzipping.
Katrina didn’t stop, or even slow down. Having someone else in the room didn’t appear to bother her. She’d changed so much from the time he’d met her, from a shy, frightened girl to a confident, strong woman. Well, she’d smack him for calling her a woman. They were both werewolves in the Vasi pack, far from being human.
He listened to the male use the urinal.
All the while, she sucked hard and fast.
Unable to breathe or move, Tyler remained silent until the stranger washed his hands and left. “Oh my God, Katrina, I’m so close.” He pulled himself from her mouth and lifted her onto her feet. In a frenzy of hands, he slid her red silk dress over her hips and she pulled his pants lower. Eager to be inside his mate, he didn’t waste time with her panties and tore them off in an act of what he called He-Manism.
Nothing about him would make anyone think He-Man. All one hundred and fifty pounds of curly, red-headed male made them think Ronald McDonald. Never mind that he could bench press a car in his beast form. Werewolves might be legal citizens now, but not many tolerated them, so he kept a tight lid on his secret identity to keep his job.
Why a beauty like Katrina even paid him any attention still amazed him.
She trapped his face between her hands and gazed at him with her dark, tilted eyes. “Take me, Tyler. Make me yours.” Hot damn, she could read his mind sometimes.
In his suit’s jacket pocket was the engagement ring he wanted her to wear. That would truly make her his. Lifting her by the hips, he pressed his cock against her clit and rubbed. He could make her climax this way–he’d done it before.
She gripped his shoulders and the jacket seam popped. “Fuck me.” Her voice wa
s husky with desire. She never swore in public, but those rules didn’t exist in their bedroom, and apparently, public bathrooms.
With a thrust of his hips, Tyler entered her in one hard shot. Wet and tight, her pussy enveloped him.
She cried out and it echoed in the small room.
Buried inside his mate, he didn’t care if the whole building heard. He pumped, allowing Katrina’s velvet to stroke him. The stall creaked and rattled. He caught her delicate mouth in a kiss, her taste a mixture of need, love, and sake.
Sweat trickled along his face, making his curls stick to his skin. A passion this strong, a love this fierce should tear him apart. In and out, in and out, he thrust until her secret muscles clenched even tighter around him.
“Oh Tyler.” She moaned against his lips.
He brought her this pleasure, his touch that she craved, and his name she used. Nothing could have made him feel more–more male.
Harder and faster, he plunged inside. Panting as if running a marathon, clothes pasted to his sweaty skin, he helped her find her release and milk him of his.
He arched his back when he came.
Katrina rode his climax, her strong limbs wrapped around his body until she slowed, then sagged against his shoulder.
Catching his breath, he leaned his sweat-soaked forehead against the cool wall by Katrina’s head, sandwiching her. “If I win another Rube Goldberg contest, can we do this again?”
She laughed, drawing him in for a chaste kiss. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” It was all he could think to say. Every year Chicago held a small Rube Goldberg contest. He’d competed since high school. Developing over-engineered machines that performed simple tasks, usually involving a chain reaction, summed up his life. Finally winning left him empty. His true contest lay in convincing Katrina to marry him. She was the ultimate prize.
She’d blown his mind when she’d suggested a tryst in the men’s room. A huge step for her to be so open about her sexuality. She’d been so abused by her old pack. He thought he’d never get through those barriers. Then one night, two years ago, she’d knocked on his bedroom door and told him she wouldn’t live in the past anymore.
That he, Tyler McCoy, was her future. Unbelievable, even now.
Setting her down on her feet, he tugged at her hem and fixed her dress. He picked up her torn panties. “I don’t suppose you want these?”
She laughed. “Keep them as a souvenir. Just do not pin them on the bedroom wall like last time.”
Exactly where he wanted to display them. They truly were a perfect match.
“I am going to wash in the ladies’ room.”
“Okay, I’ll take care of the bill.”
She rose on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I’ll meet you outside under the archway.”
It didn’t take long for him to clean and dress–no amount of work could make his red hair look tame–but paying for their dim sum lunch took forever. He stood at the register as Katrina walked by and pinched his ass for good measure before stepping out of the restaurant.
Stuffing his credit card and receipt into his wallet, Tyler stepped onto the main street of Chinatown.
An antique red archway covered the entrance to the tourist trap to keep evil spirits away and good luck in. Sticking his hand in his jacket pocket, he rubbed the small, velvet jewelry box he’d placed there earlier today. He could use all the luck he could get–just because Katrina was his mate, didn’t mean she’d agree to get married.
Raised in an all-wolf-shifter community in rural Mongolia, she didn’t think like American shifters. Like him. He took a deep, shaky breath. Marriage was a foreign ritual to her.
He’d chosen this location not just for his superstitions, but for its significance. Katrina worked in the area, a place where the old Asian world met the new, as an interpreter for some of the local companies.
She waited under the arch, facing him, her delicate eyebrows furrowed. An Asian man he didn’t recognize spoke with her.
Facing the stranger’s back, Tyler could only see his short black hair and long fall trench coat.
A sharp stab of jealousy drove him to quicken his pace. He couldn’t help it. As a shifter, possession was nine-tenths of the law, and Katrina belonged to him.
Passing half a dozen souvenir shops offering cheap trinkets, Tyler trotted along Wentworth Avenue. Katrina’s raised voice reached his ears, but he couldn’t understand Mandarin. He growled low in his chest. His mate didn’t yell often.
Three other men broke from the crowd and surrounded the arguing couple.
Tyler’s heart rate took off like a locomotive on a downhill slide. He smelled shifters. Non-Vasi shifters on their territory. Surrounding his mate.
The Asian stranger grabbed her arm and yanked her into his embrace.
“Hey!” It took every ounce of Tyler’s control to keep his beast from busting out on the tourist filled streets of Chicago’s biggest attraction. He shoved the stranger from behind, knocking Katrina from his arms.
She stumbled and landed hard on the ground. Tears stained her cheeks. The cold wind blew strands of long, black hair across her face.
“Get your hands off her.” He bent to help her, but the stranger blocked him. Straightening, Tyler glared at Katrina’s assailant and met a cold, dark stare.
His beast rose closer to the surface and clouded his thoughts. She belonged to him and this male thought to block his way. The only solution was to tear this asshole limb from limb. “Get out of my way.” He spoke each word separately and clearly to get his point across.
“This is none of your concern.” The stranger spoke with a thick accent like Katrina’s.
“You’re on Vasi territory. Anything that happens here is my concern. And she belongs to me.” Tyler pointed to Katrina, then back to himself.
“Chinatown is not Vasi territory. Never has been and never will be. And this female mated me before she ran away.” Crossing his arms, the stranger planted himself in front of Tyler. “She still belongs to me and has never been yours to take.”
Tyler’s jaw hung as if on broken hinges. He shot her a questioning look, but she stared at the ground, not meeting his gaze. Katrina hated to speak about her past. Now, he knew why.
She wiped her face, huddled on the ground, and didn’t deny a thing.
Every bit of joy in his life lay with Katrina, but truth’s claws dug into his heart. He didn’t know which hurt more, the lies or the way she hunched on the ground, submitting to this stranger like an omega all over again.
One of the surrounding males took her by the arms and assisted her to her feet.
She took a step toward Tyler, reached out her hand, and spoke his name in a tone laced with regret. Tear-filled eyes pleaded with him.
Fuck shifter laws. Fuck this stranger. And fuck any territory he stepped on. No one would make him give her up. “I’ll ask politely one last time, buddy.” Tyler’s glare challenged the stranger. “Let her go.”
The Asian trailed a look down his thin body and back. “Or what? You will sell me insurance?”
Tyler relaxed his hold on his beast.
It burst from his body in a spray of clothes and blood. Bipedal, he towered over the unknown shifters.
Cries from the humans crowding the street filled the air. Not everyday a lanky redhead exploded into three hundred pounds of teeth and claws. Werewolves scaring the locals only caused the pack trouble, but this was an emergency. His alpha would just have to take it out of his hide.
With a full back-handed swing, Tyler knocked the stranger out of his path to Katrina.
The man who had helped her to stand snatched her away into the panicked crowd.
As if waking from a nightmare, she shook her head, then kicked and screamed until they were swallowed from his view.
Leaping after her, Tyler was intercepted midair. He hit the pavement with a bone-crunching impact. Air rushed out of his lungs while stars whirled around his head, yet he still managed to roll from the att
ack. He might not train like Eric, his alpha, or Robert, his beta, but Katrina had forced him to learn the basics of keeping his hide intact.
He jumped to his feet and faced his opponent. The dark, cold eyes of the unknown Asian male stared back from the face of the beast who’d attacked him. His companions had shifted, too.
Impending death confronted Tyler. Three shifters against one were terrible odds, especially for a shifter who worked as a real estate agent.
The streets had emptied quickly and the faint sound of sirens reached them.
Stalking away, the stranger didn’t even give Tyler a backward glance, although the other two prowled closer.
In the distance, he heard Katrina scream his name. Tears sprung to his eyes at the cry. He was supposed to protect her. A vise squeezed his chest. Breathing became difficult around his breaking heart. Red became the only color he could see.
His opponents coordinated their attacks and jumped him together.
* * * *
Katrina attempted to transform into her wolf-beast form as Chen’s guard dragged her through the panicked human crowd. Her beast didn’t respond. Sharp claws of fear tore into her heart. What was wrong?
Her beast used to cower like this in the past when faced with Chen, but they’d grown so much since escaping to America. It only took one moment in her old alpha’s presence and they’d lost all they had gained. No, please no, she needed to connect with her beast and fight.
She looked at her true mate a last time as he stood in his red tinged magnificent form against Chen and his pack mates. Their gazes met and she reached for him, hoping one day he might forgive her secrets.
If only the past would have remained buried. No one knew of her life in China–she wanted the depravity forgotten. Her best friend, Sugar, had once told her to build a wall around the haunting memories, and she had. Now, Chen, her worst nightmare, showed up here, halfway around the world.
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