by Noir, Roxie
She leveled a glare at him, looking left through her bangs.
“They’re all good ones,” she said, her voice flat with anger.
“All right!” shouted the band’s singer from the stage, cutting off Gavin’s response. “This is our last song. We’re the Leather Chain, thanks for having us!”
The song took off, and for a moment, Gavin got lost in watching Chase play. The cover band was just something he did for fun, but he was good. His fingers danced over the frets, his hips rocked in time with the beat, and he tossed his hair out of his face every so often with a cocksure swagger that Gavin knew drove people wild.
Hell, it still drove him wild, and he’d been watching Chase for years.
Then Chase looked over at Gavin, then at the girl, then at Gavin, his eyebrows raising just slightly. Gavin held up his beer, and Chase smiled.
“You a friend of his?” the girl demanded.
“Yup,” said Gavin, lifting his beer to his mouth.
We’re a little more than friends, he thought. He watched her throat move as she took another swig from her Jack Daniels, the ice cubes clinking as they moved in her glass. She had the look of someone trying to keep themselves reined in, giving it all they had, and hardly succeeding.
Gavin really wished he found it less attractive, but instead he was helplessly drawn to her, this new girl recklessly trying to fight him, of all people, and not backing down for even a second.
It’s not attractive, it’s insane, he told himself, looking at her from the corner of his eyes.
Nope, it’s definitely attractive, he thought.
“They’re all right,” she finally said, nodding at the band.
“I’ll let them know,” Gavin said, unable to stop ribbing her. “The girl who tried to fight me thought they were all right.”
He looked at her and smiled for the first time, and her eyes flashed in response. She didn’t leave, though, didn’t take even one step away.
“You got a name, instead of ‘angry wolf girl’?” he asked.
“You first.”
“I’m Gavin,” he said, holding out his hand to her. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Their eyes met, and for a moment, Gavin realized she didn’t know what to do.
Something deeper is going on here, he thought.
“Sarah,” she finally said, and put her hand in his, shaking it firmly.
“Was that so bad?” he asked, her hand still in his.
Her face was half-angry, half-fascinated. Gavin felt helpless against his own urge to get under her skin, to provoke her rage and see what happened. She tried to pull her hand away and he held onto it, lowering his lips until they brushed against her skin.
Sarah stopped struggling against him, and he kissed her hand for a long moment, the skin cool against his lips, before releasing her. Then she dropped her hand to her side, simply staring at him.
“What’s your fucking deal?” she finally asked, narrowing those eyes of hers.
Gavin laughed.
“I came over in the first place to see if I could buy you a drink,” he said. “But you tried to fight me before I got a chance.”
She looked at him suspiciously, and just then the song ended. The singer shouted, “Thank you Canyon City!” into the microphone before they all left the stage. Chase glanced over his shoulder at Gavin and Sarah once.
“You gonna hang around and see if that cute guitarist comes out?” Gavin asked.
Stop teasing her, he thought, but he couldn’t. There was just something in the angry way she looked at him that activated something primal, deep down inside. He couldn’t help himself.
“Why are you asking?” she said, her eyebrows going up a little, a smile starting to curve onto her lips. “Are you jealous?”
She raised her eyebrows, like she thought she was taunting him right back.
“He’s pretty hot,” she went on, her eyes glittering. “Did you see the way he moves his hips when he plays? I’d wrap my legs around that any day of the year.”
Gavin felt himself flush, imagining Sarah on her back, snarling and gasping as he bent over her, the scent of her arousal floating through the air.
Also, he didn’t disagree that Chase was hot. Fuck yeah, Chase was hot.
“I’ll let him know,” Gavin said, still ribbing her. “If I put in a good word, maybe you’ll have half a chance.”
Sarah frowned, but before she could say anything, Chase emerged from a black door across the bar and walked toward Gavin and Sarah. The girl began to blush, her muscles going rigid, her eyes widening.
“Shall I?” Gavin asked, watching the anger flicker in her eyes. He leaned over — not too close — and rumbled into her ear. “There’s a couch backstage and I bet I can you on it with him. Just say the word.”
It wasn’t a lie.
Sarah stood perfectly straight and tossed her hair out of her eyes, looking away from Chase and finishing her whiskey.
“How about you back the fuck off?” she hissed.
“Hey,” said Chase, walking up to Gavin. His eyes flicked to Sarah and then back to Gavin, and Gavin could see hunger lighting in them.
“Good show,” said Gavin, grinning at his mate.
“How good?” asked Chase, wickedly. He put one finger into the waistband of Gavin’s jeans, tugging the other man closer to him.
“We-shouldn’t-be-in-public good,” answered Gavin.
He didn’t wait for a response, just kissed his mate fiercely, his hand going around to the other man’s back and pulling him in closer. Chase grunted in response, yanking on the waistband of Gavin’s jeans, the backs of his fingers brushing against the skin of Gavin’s hip.
Gavin pushed his tongue into Chase’s mouth, past his parted lips, and Chase met it with his own.
From the corner of his eye, Gavin could see Sarah staring openly, and at last, he pulled back.
“Chase, this is Sarah,” he said. “She’s an admirer of your work.”
She turned bright red, then glared at Gavin, then nodded once at Chase. He held out his hand, and she took it, shaking it once.
“You guys were good,” she muttered.
“Thanks,” Chase said, grinning easily and putting his hands into his own pockets. “Power ballads are a secret weakness of mine.”
“It’s not a secret anymore,” said Gavin.
“Power ballads are everyone’s secret weakness,” Sarah spoke up. She lifted her glass to her lips one more time, the ice falling against her mouth as she drained the last of the whiskey.
She swallowed and looked from one of them to the other, her gray eyes inscrutable.
“Anyone who says they don’t like power ballads is a goddamn liar,” she said.
The corners of her eyes twitched, and she nearly smiled. That was what Chase did: a minute or two of talking to someone, and they warmed right up.
“I’ve met a couple people who claim they don’t,” Chase said. “Totally soulless.”
“If they’re your friends, ditch them,” Sarah said. “You don’t need that kind of negativity in your life.”
“Seems harsh,” Gavin spoke up.
Sarah looked at him, and at last, she didn’t look angry anymore. Gavin was slightly disappointed — she was especially beautiful when she was fired up — but he had a feeling he couldn’t have gotten away with too much more before she tried to fight him again, and there was something wild and unpredictable about her. Gavin couldn’t quite put his finger on what, exactly it was, but it was dangerous.
And sexy.
Seriously sexy.
“You’re not going to tell me that you don’t like power ballads, right?” Chase said, his face mock-serious. “Have I wasted years of my life on you?”
Gavin grinned.
“Even if I did, was all that wasted?” he asked. “I think I remember some okay times.”
“Under false pretenses,” Chase teased. He half-turned to Sarah. “What do you think?” he asked. “If he’s about to tell me he do
esn’t really like Styx, I should leave, right?”
Sarah gave Gavin a long, slow once-over, starting at his feet and making her way up until she was looking into his eyes. It made his whole body tingle.
“You’re going to let her decide?” Gavin asked his mate. “I tried to buy her a drink and she wanted to fight me.”
That made her bristle a little.
“You surprised me,” she said, getting defensive again, but Chase just laughed.
“He liked it,” Chase said. He stepped closer to Gavin and put one hand in his back pocket, and Sarah dropped her eyes, looking away.
“I did not,” Gavin said, looking over at Chase, into his mate’s hazel eyes. “I’d never do such a thing.”
“You’re a liar,” Chase said, still grinning. “A damn dirty liar who doesn’t even like Styx.”
Gavin finished his beer, and Chase squeezed his ass a little, his hand still in Gavin’s back pocket. Gavin felt himself stiffen and swallowed.
Keeping himself under control was starting to get difficult, between Chase, who knew exactly which buttons to push, and Sarah, who was doing things to him just by standing there.
“I don’t have to take this from either of you,” he said. “I’m getting another beer. You guys want anything?”
“There’s free beer backstage,” Chase offered. “I bet I can get the two of you VIP passes if you ask nicely.”
Sarah lifted her eyebrows, her glass empty.
“What’s a VIP pass get me?” she asked.
“You can drink a free beer on an ugly couch,” Chase said, grinning.
Sarah put her free hand into her pocket, fingering something inside, looking from Chase to Gavin and back.
“How ugly’s the couch?” she asked at last.
“That’s the question, not ‘How good is the free beer’?” Chase teased.
“How good is the free beer?” Gavin asked.
“Not you, too,” Chase said.
“I’ve got certain standards,” Gavin said.
Chase just laughed.
“You do not,” he said, giving Gavin another squeeze through his back pocket.
“Fine, fine,” Gavin said, pretending to give in. Between Chase’s playing on stage, Chase teasing him here, and suddenly meeting this firecracker, he could feel his whole body start to heat up in anticipation.
“It’s dark green with giant pink flowers,” Chase told Sarah.
“Not very rock and roll.”
“Someone’s mom moved into a nursing home, so the bar got it for free,” Chase said. “It’s comfy as hell, though. Like an angel cradling your ass.”
“The angel better ask first or she’ll kick his ass,” Gavin said.
Sarah gave him that long, burning once-over again.
“I’m in,” she said at last.
Chapter Four
Scarlet
It really was an ugly couch, even more than its description made it sound. Once upon a time, it had been dark green with vibrant pink roses — bad enough when it was brand new. Now it was faded, lumpy, and ripped in a couple of strange places. Someone had put two beige-and-red-striped throw pillows on it in a feeble attempt to make it look better, but they had the exact opposite effect.
“You really weren’t overselling that thing,” Scarlet said as she stepped through the door. ‘Backstage’ was really just a small room behind the bar with a tile floor, a counter along one wall, and a mirror. Someone had set up two floor lamps on either side of the couch, and under the counter were three different small fridges.
Not that she’d been expecting much more. They were a cover band at a bar on a weeknight, after all.
“This is where the magic happens,” Chase said, standing behind her.
“The magic of getting dressed?” Scarlet teased. She had both hands in her pockets, and slid her fingers along the smooth wrappers of the condoms she’d brought with her.
Her body felt like it was humming. She’d given up on self-control when Gavin kissed her hand, even though he was still intentionally poking at her wolf, trying to get her to snarl at him again.
But now, instead of punching him, she wanted to tear his shirt off with her teeth, shove him onto the couch, and then ride him until she was satisfied. Preferably while Chase watched or, better, joined in.
Scarlet couldn’t help it. She was a wolf, and she was a wolf who’d been in forced celibacy for years.
Gavin walked to the middle fridge, crouched, and opened it, pulling out three Coronas. He set them all on the counter, then looked around for a moment.
“Where’s the opener?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Should be there somewhere,” Chase answered, leaning against a wall.
“You’re not gonna use your teeth?” Scarlet asked.
Gavin looked over his shoulder at her, one eyebrow raised.
“You’re welcome to try it,” he said.
Then she spotted the bottle opened at one end of the counter, half-hidden under a t-shirt. Three steps later, it was in her hand, and she backed away from Gavin, flipping it into the air and catching it.
“Come on,” he said. “Give it up.”
“Are you gonna make me?” Scarlet asked.
She couldn’t help but smile at him, flipping the bottle opener around and catching it again. Gavin’s eyes were on it, and then on her, but he didn’t move. For a second she was afraid that she’d made some sort of miscalculation, that they were really in this room to drink beers and chat.
Then she tossed it again, a little higher than before, and Gavin went for it. He crossed the little room in two steps on his long legs, but Scarlet was faster, grabbing the bottle opener out of the air.
Gavin caught her wrist instead and held it where he did, just over her head.
“Do I have to make you unhand this?” he growled.
“You might,” Scarlet said.
For a second, she closed her eyes against the overwhelming urge to really fight him, twist her wrist out of his hand and knee him in the balls. Anything to escape, but she forced herself to calm down.
This isn’t a fight in the prison lunchroom, she reminded herself.
Gavin took a half-step forward, and now they were practically touching, toe-to-toe, him looming over her, wrist still locked in his hand.
“I could make you a trade,” Scarlet said as sweetly as she could.
Leaning against the wall, Chase shifted, watching the two of them intently.
“Yeah?” asked Gavin, his eyebrows raising devilishly.
“Sure,” said Scarlet. With her other hand, she grabbed the front of her shirt, but she’d no sooner done it than Gavin spun her around, locking his arm over her chest, her body pressed completely against his. For another moment, Scarlet had to tamp down her wolf’s fight response, but it was getting easier every time.
Besides, now she could feel his bulge pressing up against her back, and she could feel the corresponding ache deep inside herself, voracious and needy.
“I don’t negotiate,” Gavin growled into her ear.
“Well, I don’t surrender,” Scarlet murmured.
“Looks like you’re at an impasse,” Chase finally spoke up. He walked over to stand in front of Scarlet, his hazel eyes looking down at her, the hunger in them unmistakable. Against her back, Gavin’s erection pulsed.
“I could use some help here,” Gavin said.
Chase grinned and shook his head.
“Nah,” he said. “I like watching her get the best of you.”
Gavin growled, and the rumble zipped through Scarlet’s body. He still held her tight, and she swallowed hard.
“How about helping me out, then?” she asked Chase.
“I don’t think so,” he said, taking a step closer and leaning down a little. “I think I’m going to just stay out of this one, if that’s okay.”
Then he leaned down and kissed her, one finger underneath Scarlet’s chin. For a few moments, his lips were soft and gentle, moving slightly against
hers, almost like he was asking permission.
Scarlet bit his lower lip, catching the flesh between her teeth. She didn’t bite hard, just enough to let Chase know that she meant business.
He gasped slightly, then pushed against her harder. Now he licked along her lower lip, just brushing the tips of her teeth with his tongue before he thrust it into her mouth, finding hers and sparring with it.
He’s not afraid of me either, Scarlet thought. If she’d had her hands free, she’d have grabbed Chase and pulled him closer to her, because she felt like there was lava in her veins instead of blood.
As it was, she moved her hips against his, fighting the urge to simply wrap her legs around his waist and squeeze.
Chase pulled his mouth away from hers, his hazel gaze boring into hers.
Before she knew what was happening, Gavin spun her around again, this time pinning the bottle opener in her hand behind her back. His muscles knotted against her, and his thick, calloused hand on her wrist felt almost like iron.
He knows what he’s doing, Scarlet thought. He’s trained in disarming people.
Then Gavin kissed her too. He didn’t ask permission for anything, just pushed himself against her and before Scarlet knew it, his tongue was in her mouth and she wrapped her own around it, warmth flooding her entire body.
Chase’s erection was against her back now, and she felt a hand move her hair aside and then lips on her neck, sucking and biting on the delicate skin there until she moaned into Gavin’s mouth.
He pulled away from her, but she bit him too, catching his lip between her teeth as she panted. Gavin just chuckled, then squeezed the bones of her wrist just a shade harder.
The bottle opener dropped to the floor, and he finally let her wrist go.
“You could have done that all along,” Scarlet said. She grabbed his shirt in one hand, trying to pull him back down toward her.
“You’re sexy when you’re mad,” he said.
He opened his mouth to say something else, but Scarlet pulled his shirt over his head before he could get it out, revealing his hard, muscled torso, his muscles visible like they were etched into his skin.
He had two tattoos: paw prints, one on either side of his chest. For a second, Scarlet thought that they seemed familiar, but then she was running her hands over his body, through a light dusting of hair, following it downward to the densely furred treasure trail leading to his pants.
