by Maren Smith
The End
For more by Stella Moore, please click here.
Untamed
Renee Rose and Vanessa Vale
About the Authors
Vanessa Vale is the USA Today bestselling author of sexy romance novels, including her popular Bridgewater historical series and hot contemporary romances. With over one million books sold, Vanessa writes about unapologetic bad boys who don't just fall in love, they fall hard. Her books are available worldwide in multiple languages in e-book, print, audio and even as an online game. When she's not writing, Vanessa savors the insanity of raising two boys and figuring out how many meals she can make with a pressure cooker.
Renee-
USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR RENEE ROSE loves a dominant, dirty-talking alpha hero! She's sold over a half million copies of steamy romance with varying levels of kink. Her books have been featured in USA Today's Happily Ever After and Popsugar. Named Eroticon USA's Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, she has also won Spunky and Sassy's Favorite Sci-Fi and Anthology author, The Romance Reviews Best Historical Romance, and Spanking Romance Reviews' Best Sci-fi, Paranormal, Historical, Erotic, Ageplay and favorite couple and author. She's hit the USA Today list five times with various anthologies.
Copyright © 2020 by Renee Rose, Vanessa Vale and Red Hot Romance, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including, but not limited to, photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, locales, and events are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, and events are purely coincidental.
Chapter One
BEN
The glaring neon sign over the door cast the parking lot in a hot pink glow. Thumping bass pulsed through the closed door.
“You sure this is right?” Gibson ran a hand over his beard.
I glanced up at the sign, the cartoon of a woman riding a very endowed horse. Naked. Beneath it, the dive’s name: Hoedown. Fucking hell. If we were in our early twenties, our dicks would have gotten hard at the thought of coming to a place like this. Now? Our dicks were only hard because of the scent we’d picked up. We’d stopped at the gas station on our way to Wolf Ranch, caught her scent, and it led us here...next door.
It was the sweet, vibrant scent that had tickled my nose last time I was in the area. The reason I brought Gibson, the alpha of my pack, back with me this time.
Our mate.
The next deep inhale confirmed this was the place. I shrugged in reply.
“Please tell me she’s not in there letting human men see what’s ours,” he growled, taking in the squat cinderblock building just off the highway. “I don’t want to have to kill every one of those fuckers.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. We may mate in pairs, but it didn’t mean we weren’t just as jealous and possessive as the wolf breeds who mated singly.
“When we get her out of here, she’s going to know how her new alpha feels about her being here.”
That new alpha? It was him. The leader of the Cowboy Ridge pack.
I wasn’t alpha, but an enforcer, and I felt the same fucking way.
“I’ve waited five months to follow this scent again,” I told him, stepping out of the way to let a man leave. It had been that long since I’d been in Montana, when I’d borrowed Clint’s truck to get down off the mountain after following a rogue shifter to their land. My wolf had perked up immediately at the sweet scent that filled the cab. Some female shifter had ridden with him, and my wolf had been intrigued. I hadn’t forgotten. My wolf… and my dick wouldn’t let me. And now I was sure.
Gibson clenched his jaw because he knew I was right. We carried the same scent gene, meaning we claimed one female together, just like all males in our lineage, our pack.
“Let’s go get our mate.” He tugged open the door. I followed.
The place was dimly lit and western themed. There was one central stage that cut through the middle of the huge room. It had two poles, one at the back and one front and center at the end of the runway. Along the back wall was the bar, but the clientele were being served by waitresses with low-cut, midriff blouses and tiny, Daisy Duke cutoffs which barely covered their asses. They might be getting tips, but they weren’t getting much of the men’s attention. After I took a deep breath, none of them got much of ours either. None were our mate.
No, the sweet scent came from the hot little number on stage who currently hung upside down on the front stripper pole. How she was able to hang on by wrapping her legs around the shiny metal in a way that defied gravity, I had no idea.
She popped upright with abs that had to be rock hard then dropped gracefully to her feet and lowered into a squat. Her knees were bent, spread wide apart. She was an athlete, like most she-wolves.
My wolf growled, and I took a step toward her.
I couldn’t look away. She was a slender thing with long whiskey-colored hair, tattoos snaking around muscular arms and a tight dancer’s body but with tits that made a man drool. Hell, most of the guys watching her had their mouths hanging open, and no doubt, their dicks were hard.
Her breasts were big for her slender frame but definitely all natural, unlike some of the other pool floats the waitresses sported.
Gibson tapped my shoulder and led me to an open table along the side of the runway, right up front. We dropped into our seats and watched her writhe up and down, as if she were scratching her back on the pole, all the while flashing every man in the place her g-string covered pussy that peeked out from beneath a tiny, plaid schoolgirl skirt. With knee high socks and high-heeled Mary Janes, she played the naughty school-girl to a ‘T’. The only thing prim about her white blouse was that it was tucked into her skirt. We’d missed the part of her performance where she’d ripped the buttons off so the two halves of the front were spread wide, hiding nothing. It was as if she knew what would get Gib and me going.
Gib leaned forward, set his forearms on the edge of the stage and held a twenty between his fingers. She caught sight of it and crawled our way.
I growled, and thankfully, the music covered it. She arched her back with the skill of a stripper who knew how to flaunt her assets, making those tits thrust out, her nipples plump and ready to be sucked.
She stopped right in front of Gibson and gave him a sly smile. He leaned in, careful not to touch her, and breathed. I heard his wolf growl, and she must have too because she went still, her eyes widening, nostrils flaring at our scent. Yeah, she knew we were shifters and might even have an idea of why we were here.
But then, she slid into motion again, pushing out a hip for Gib to tuck the bill into the hem of her skirt. I moved close enough to do the same on her other side, so we formed a triangle—her up on the raised stage and us sitting before her.
Oh, we’d put our babygirl up on a pedestal, probably naked, and once we hauled her out of here—preferably over my shoulder—we would be the only ones to see her bare from now on.
The song came to an end, and the music cut off.
“We want you between us,” I said in the lull between dances. “In the VIP room.”
Her cinnamon-colored eyes raked over us, a smirk curving at her lips. Her gaze, which had held false pleasure, now held real attraction. The glint of her she-wolf in the glow of her eyes.
“Both of you like schoolgirls?” Her voice was like caramel syrup, and my dick punched against the zipper of my jeans. She grabbed the cowboy hat from my head and set it on top of hers.
“Only the bad ones,” I answered.
“And you’ve definitely been a bad girl,” Gib said.
She smirked and twirled a lock of hair around her finger in mock-innocence. “Are you going to spank me?”
“Count on it, kitten,” I growled.
Chapter Two
; SHELBY
Oh fates.
They were shifters, and they were gorgeous. Six feet plus of cowboy goodness—times two.
Usually when I caught the scent of a wolf, I hid in the back until they left. Roscoe, the owner, was used to that sort of thing. Every dancer here had someone she didn’t want finding out how she paid the bills. I didn’t need word getting back to my pack about how I earned money. The guys would get all protective even though I can more than enough to take care of myself. Human males are not a threat to a shifter.
These guys? I picked up their deep spice scent before they even sat down and adjusted my routine to crawl toward them. Yeah, a single scent that they seemed to share. I’d never known shifters with that before.
I’d never laid eyes on them in my life—I definitely would have remembered. I didn’t know who they were. And strangely, I wanted to.
My inner she-wolf had me sticking out my breasts and practically preening for them. I never got wet on stage, even though I had tons of guys practically getting off on looking at me. But these two?
I worried there was a wet spot on my g-string, and everyone would know.
It had started with their scent, but it was also their looks that made me hot. One was dark, the other fair. They looked at least ten years older than I was. I pegged them to be mid-to-late-thirties, and yes, I had a thing for older, powerful males. Jeans, snug long-sleeved shirts. They weren’t local because I’d have met them. Cooper Valley and the shifter world was that small. But they screamed cowboy, screamed small town, nonetheless. The fair one had a beard. If I had to guess their profession, I’d say lumberjack. Or maybe they were rodeo champs like Boyd Wolf. They were that big.
Brawny.
Virile.
And the older one with the beard just said I was a bad girl.
I was. I so was. I gave them a nod, which had my hair sliding over my shoulder, the long strands brushing my exposed nipple.
It was less about the money and more about following my instinct when I accepted their offer. Or had it been a demand?
They seemed bossy, like most male wolves I knew.
Usually it annoyed the shit out of me, but with these two? Nope. I’d let them boss me around. Scold me. Master and guide me. Do all the dirty things I fantasized about every time I picked the naughty school-girl or French maid costume to dance in. I’d never imagined having two growly wolves in charge of me, though.
“Fifty bucks a piece gets you a private in the VIP room.” I lifted my gaze toward the back hallway, the roped off area for big spenders.
They both stood, the bearded one settling his hand at my lower back, the other snatching his hat back from my head.
Eddie, the bouncer, surged forward because the male was touching me, but I shook off his touch before he got to us. I knew wolves when they’d set their sights on a female. They didn’t tolerate interference. No way would either of them like anyone getting between them and what they wanted.
Me.
A huge guy like Eddie wasn’t any kind of deterrent for a shifter.
“No touching, wolf,” I warned.
The bearded hottie’s nostrils flared, and his eyes changed from green to amber.
God, something about his scent made my knees weak and had me wanting to push up his shirt and lick that muscled chest. I settled for resting my palm there.
“I touch you,” I promised softly. “You don’t get to touch me. Are you going to be able to handle that, big guy?”
His growl came as a low warning, and I swore to fate—went straight to my nether region. Flutters flopped in my belly. My g-string was definitely wet. Time to get off the stage.
I’d never had this reaction to a male wolf before—much less two.
“Christ, that scent. Can we just carry her out of here now?” the darker one muttered. “Fuck the bouncer.”
A ripple of apprehension ran through me, but it was equally matched with desire. I’d never been so excited to get a client to the VIP room as I was now.
They sandwiched me between them. Even in my platform heels, they were at least a foot taller. I led them to the back where the bouncer pulled back the velvet cord to let us down the hall. No one else was in the VIP section at the moment, which had never made me so happy.
They pulled up two chairs and dropped into them. The blond with the beard pulled out five twenties and fanned them out in front of me. I plucked them from his fingers and tucked them in my platform shoe where they wouldn’t slip out.
“I don’t know how we’re going to give you the spanking you deserve if we can’t touch,” the bearded guy rumbled.
Heat flooded my core. I definitely wanted that spanking. I shouldn’t encourage them or let them think they can play these sorts of games with me, but I was so wet, my thighs were growing slick. And they’re shifters, so they smelled my arousal. Knew exactly the kind of effect they were having on me.
“I could probably make Eddie look the other way,” I said, glancing toward the bouncer. “Especially with a little green incentive.”
These were the tricks I’d learned to get as much cash out of clients as possible, but it felt all wrong to milk these guys for money. I found my face growing warm, and I never blushed for clients.
They didn’t look annoyed, though. The darker one pulled out a twenty and handed it to me. I winked and sashayed over to Eddie to tell him we were going to have a little fun, and if he wanted to position himself at the end of the hall instead, it would be fine with me.
“You sure, doll?” he asked, glancing at the shifters.
I nodded. “I’m sure. These guys are safe.”
The truth was, these two were the least safe guys I’d ever brought back here. They weren’t weak humans who couldn’t hurt me. They had shifter power and potency. Alpha stature and size. Even though they made me nervous and off-kilter, I knew I had nothing to fear from them. Especially if I was their mate. My she-wolf wasn’t scared at all. She was ready to rip her panties off and go spread eagle, ready to ask these guys to sniff her ass. The rest of me had a touch of stranger-danger. Fear of the unknown. Especially with the comment the darker one had made about carrying me out of the place.
Maybe it was because deep down I knew they could do it if they wanted. No one—not even me—would be able to stop them.
The thought of that was…actually hot as hell.
Every she-wolf wanted to be overpowered. Chased down in the woods and thrown onto her back, forced to surrender to the wolf who wanted her most. The one who would claim her for life.
In this case, it appeared to be not one but two.
I strutted back and dropped into the darker one’s lap, grinding my mostly bare ass down on the bulge in his jeans and looping my arms around his neck. “All yours, Daddy.”
Again, these might have been well-rehearsed lines, but the way they came out now was totally different. I sounded breathless. Excited.
His hand slid up into my ripped open shirt to cup my breast. His lips found the pulse at my neck. “You’ve got thirty seconds to tell me why our mate has been showing off this perfect body to every asshole in the county,” he growled. “Then we’re going to spank your ass pink.”
Several things happened at once. I orgasmed. A little one—but still. Definitely an orgasm. The only explanation was the same reason I tried to lunge off his lap—the confirmation of the words our mate.
Because they rang true.
If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t have come just by hearing myself called that.
And yet, it was too much of a shock. Two strangers showed up, called themselves my mates and wanted to spank me?
Of course, I didn’t make it very far. And by that, I meant I didn’t make it an inch. His arm wrapped around my waist like a steel band, and he pulled me firmly back on his lap. I struggled but didn’t let out a sound, didn’t call for the bouncer. The blond didn’t intervene. He watched, eyes pinning me with the force of the arm around my waist.
I loved feeling their strengt
h as much as I struggled against it, knowing I wasn’t calling the shots for once. That they were... what? Rescuing me?
That’s when I realized. These guys really might just carry me out of here. Considering I didn’t know who they were or where they were from, they could claim me and take me right out of Cooper Valley. Away from my pack and my mom, who needed me.
“Easy, she’s scared,” the blond cautioned, his nostrils flaring at my scent.
The darker one boldly cupped my mons, sliding a finger beneath the edge of my g-string and over my dripping slit. “She’s also gushing wet.”
“Let me see her,” the other said, reaching over and easily lifting me to his lap. He arranged me in a straddle position and molded his hands to my bare ass, gently kneading it as he met my gaze with his steady green one. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, kitten. We’d never hurt you. I’m Gibson. This is Ben. We’re from the Cowboy Ridge pack in Wyoming. Ever heard of us?”
I shook my head.
“Wolves from our lineage mate in pairs.”
I gaped at him even as my pussy clenched again, apparently still orgasmic over being near my mates.
My mates! Plural.
Holy… fate. I glanced between the two of them. They were serious.
He brought his thumb between my legs, delving under the plaid skirt to rub my clit over the miniscule excuse for panties. “Ben caught your scent when he was here on council business a few months ago, and he came back with me to find and claim you.”
My heart beat fast. Since I was sixteen, this was all I’d dreamed about. Finding my true mate. Being claimed by him. Yeah, him—not them. Two mates? This was nuts!
“Caught our scent?” he asked.
I nodded again.
“Unlike most shifters, we share it. That’s how our she-wolf knows she belongs to both of us. It’s also why this is intense for you. This sticky honey” —he slicked a finger beneath my panties, and I gasped— “Proves you’ve surrendered. You know you’re ours.”
