by Jenika Snow
Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2014 Jenika Snow
ISBN: 978-1-77130-685-0
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: Karyn White
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
As always, without everyone’s support and encouragement I wouldn't be able to do to what I love, and what has been my dream for as long as I can remember. Thank you, to each and every one of you!
THE BEAR’S RELUCTANT WOLF
Sweet Water, 2
Jenika Snow
Copyright © 2014
Chapter One
Her tits were big, and every time she slammed her pussy down on his cock they bounced and jiggled. Trace grabbed them, not really caring for more than a handful, but what the fuck ever.
“Oh, God. Trace. You’re so big.”
He was used to hearing this, and although he wasn’t a cocky bastard over the fact he had a big cock, he liked that the females seemed to appreciate it. Besides, he thanked whoever in the hell was listening for gracing him with a dick that could at least get the job done.
“Slam that pussy down harder, and work for my cum.” He was a dirty talker, no reason to even deny it. That was who he was, how he was programmed, and the females who willingly came with him knew exactly what they were getting: one night of hard fucking. Christa did just that. She rode him hard, slammed that pussy down on his cock, and clenched her pussy walls like she was desperate for his seed. Before he came he pushed her off of him, flipped her onto her belly, and slapped her big, round ass. That was the first thing he had noticed about her when she came into his bar, Dakota Dark’s. He was an ass man all the way, and those big, juicy mounds always got his dick instantly hard. “Get on your hands and knees.” He didn’t sugarcoat anything, said what he wanted, and took what was offered. Christa. He took hold of each of her cheeks, spread that shit wide, and stared at her swollen, wet pussy and tight asshole. His dick throbbed, and he glanced down at the latex covered appendage. Her cream coated him, but he had known that without even having to look at his shit. She had gotten off two times already, and her juices had spilled from her like a fucking geyser. Who knew she would have been a squirter?
He aligned the tip of his dick at her pussy and slammed into her hard. She squealed and reached out to grip the headboard. The cheap motel bed squeaked as he fucked her hard. On the third thrust he came, and immediately rolled off of her. Both of their breathing was hard, but before she could roll over and start that cuddling shit he sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. Tearing the condom off and tossing it aside, he stood and rolled his head back and forth on his neck.
“Baby.” Her voice was whiny, and already he was itching to get away. After the shit with Karla, Trace just wanted to fuck and be done with it. He didn’t want any pillow talk, and he sure as hell didn’t want to spoon afterwards.
“Don’t call me that.” He looked over his shoulder and saw her already touching up her too red lipstick.
“Want to go another round? I’m still soaking wet,” she said without even looking at him. Trace didn’t bother responding, just stalked toward the bathroom, turned the shower on hot as fuck, and stepped inside. The sting of those scorching little pellets hit his body, and he gritted his teeth. He always took hotter than fuck showers, needed to wash off the perfume that the females were always saturated in, and wipe off the feeling of dirty one-night stands. After he scrubbed himself raw he grabbed the towel that barely covered his softening cock and stepped back into the room. Good, she had fucking left, but not before she placed her number scribbled on a scrap piece of paper. He picked it up, stared at the little hearts she had drawn around her name, and grunted. He tossed that shit in the trash, because she fucking knew before they had come back to the motel that all this would be was a quick screw.
Trace shoved his feet through his leathers and pulled them up. Once he found his white t-shirt he grabbed it and pulled it over his head. Wallet in back pocket and attached to his chain, and keys in hand, he got the fuck out of there. His Harley Fat Boy sat right outside the door, and his cock jerked a bit at the gleaming perfection of it. Yeah, his bike was a work of fucking art, and it was all his. It had taken him a year to get his baby tricked out, customized, and restored from the floor up.
He threw his leg over her, sat his ass down on the cooled leather seat, and cranked the engine. She purred like a warmed kitten, and he revved the engine. He didn’t give a shit if it was going on three in the morning, because this was the shit he lived for. After he’d caught his ex-wife Karla fucking his once best friend in their own bed all those years ago, he had given up on finding a decent female. Besides, he didn’t need a female or a mate to tie him down. He owned a new and successful bar and grille, fucked whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and didn’t have to answer to anyone.
At forty-five he had his life back, although a bit empty in his chest from what that bitch did to him. He was content, or at least he liked to think he was. He would never admit to anyone that, at times, he hated fucking these random, nameless chicks, but then he pushed those shitty thoughts aside and asked himself if he would rather be in a fucked-up relationship with a betraying bitch of a wife, and a piece of shit best friend. He always came up with the same answer: no.
He hit the road, loving that the pavement was a blur beneath his tires. It took him only twenty minutes to reach the side road that would climb up the mountains and end where his cabin was. He took the turn, drove up the steep incline, and pulled to a stop in front of his porch. The only light on was the one in the kitchen, and his twenty-three year old son Liam’s pick-up was parked by the detached garage. Trace already knew Liam probably had a girl, or even two, in his house, but he couldn’t get mad at him, not when Trace did the same thing. But the only difference was he never brought the females back to his house. That was his own rule, and he stuck with it. This was his domain, and no way would he bring his fucks back here for his kid to see. Apparently Liam didn’t feel the same way, though.
Trace headed inside and immediately smelled liquor, perfume, and sex. He fucking hated artificial scents, and the amount these girls doused themselves in made his stomach roil. He went into the kitchen, saw a few empty bottles of beer and some shot glasses on the table, and just shook his head. He put the glasses in the sink, tossed the bottle in the recycle bin, and turned off the light. He headed down the hallway and reached behind him to grip the collar of his shirt and pull it over his head. The sound of Liam’s door opening, and then of a very naked woman emerging didn’t even have Trace blinking twice. She had small tits and a flat stomach. She was skinny as shit, and not normally what his son went after, but Liam wasn’t picky when it came to pussy. Gauging the sound of another female giggling inside of his son’s room, it looked like he’d brought home two for the night.
The female stopped and stared at him. Clearly she didn’t give a shit about her nudity, but then again she was prancing around his house with nothing on like she owned the damn place.
“Hey, didn’t I fuck you?” He would have blown her off, but her blatant way of calling him out had Trace stopping and glancing down at her. She was human, and buzzed by the stench of alcohol that came from her. The hallway was dark, b
ut he could see her well enough. He couldn’t even remember most of the women he’d fucked since leaving Karla, but it had been a lot. The chances that he screwed this one were pretty high up there, even if all their faces blended together over time. Yeah, he was a man-whore, but he didn’t make any fucking apologies for it. He was an adult, had done the whole marriage thing, which hadn’t worked out, and at forty-five he was fucking living life the way he wanted. He made no apologies for that, and didn’t give a shit what anyone said. If they had a problem with it and had the balls to confront him, well, they found their asses sprawled on the pavement as his response.
“Probably.” He grunted the word out, saw her eyes widen a fraction, but turned and left, not waiting for her to respond. Once in his room he slammed his door shut, chucked off his leathers, and face planted nude on his bed. He had soundproofed his room a year ago after Liam had brought a female home and fucked her so loudly that he had heard the springs on the bed squeaking and the headboard banging against the wall. He could only hear his kid fucking so many times before he wanted to stab pencils in his ears. Sleep couldn’t come soon enough, and the fact he wasn’t going into to the bar until after nine was golden.
****
“Girl, you need to get out of this damn house and let loose.”
Candace pushed her reading glasses up her nose and glared at Melissa. Even though she had known the other wolf shifter for years, Melissa’s outgoing and smart-mouthed personality was still not something she was totally used to.
“And where exactly am I supposed to go?” She took her glasses off and set them on the table. Maybe Candace shouldn’t have said anything, but knowing Melissa she had an array of activities that Candace would have never thought of doing on her own. She held up her hand just as Melissa parted her lips. Her friend looked like some kind of gypsy, what with her wildly curly dark hair, beaded tank top and matching maxi skirt, and how could she forget the twenty or thirty bangle bracelets lined nearly all the way up her forearm? The damn things clanked every time Melissa moved. “And before you say it, no, no, and hell no.”
Melissa crossed her arms under her breasts and narrowed her eyes down at Candace. “No what? You didn’t even let me say anything.”
“You’re right, but I know you well enough that you are either going to say strip club, skinny dipping down at the lake with all the college kids, or going to the bar and picking up a random guy to sleep with. Hence why I said, no, no, and hell no.” Melissa grinned broadly.
“All right, you do know me pretty damn well, but I wasn’t going to suggest any of those, not really anyways.” Yeah, Candace didn’t believe that for one moment.
“I don’t want to go out and take a guy home after only knowing him for a few hours.” Melissa sat in the seat across from her and lifted a perfectly plucked dark eyebrow. “Okay, so I may have done that with Chad, but I didn’t sleep with him. We hung out at the Sugar Shack diner all night just talking.”
Melissa made a scoffing noise. “That was your first clue he was a douche. I don’t ever trust a coyote shifter.” Candace snorted. “Okay, I don’t trust jackals either, but rightly so. Those two breeds are pricks with a capital fucker thrown in.” Melissa tossed her hair over one shoulder, and her damn bracelets jangled like they were alive. “Can you say that my instincts are wrong about them?” There was a challenging expression on Melissa’s face.
“No. You were right, on both accounts.” Their friend Ary was now mated to a bear, and had a family. Before that, five years ago, Melissa had taken them both to a bar to celebrate Ary’s thirtieth birthday and to forget about her scumbag ex-boyfriend, who happened to be a jackal shifter. One thing had led to another with Ary leaving with Charlie, her now mate, and Melissa leaving with some random guy. Candace had met Chad at the bar, and the coyote shifter had been sweet and nice. The attraction had been instant, although not consuming. She felt safe with Chad, but as their relationship grew and time went on, Candace realized they just weren’t a good fit. Not only that, Chad had started to pull away because she wasn’t giving him enough sex. Even now she snorted at that thought. Apparently if she wasn’t sitting on the couch butt-naked with her legs spread for him every night, he wasn’t getting enough sex. Then, just before she was about to break it off with him, knowing that staying together was just wasting both of their lives, she had caught him sleeping with not one, but two females, and in the bed they shared no less.
That had been last year, and Candace now had her own place and had moved on. She hadn’t bothered with any men, human or shifters, and was happy in her perfectly placed little world. She didn’t even think about Chad or how the time she caught him probably wasn’t a one-time thing. Men were assholes, well, all the ones who got thrown her way. Before Chad there had been a few other guys, ones not even worth mentioning because they had been so bad. So here she was, thirty-five, single, and without a family of her own. She had also gained more weight than she had liked since breaking it off with Chad, and it seemed no amount of working out made her roundness go away. If this was what happened when a female hit her “prime” she wanted to give the finger to getting old.
“I’d say you need to let go and get wild, but it would fall on deaf ears.” Candace didn’t bother responding, because where Melissa was the life of a party, she was a Debbie Downer. She just kept to herself, stayed at home on the weekends more times than not, and felt safe living that way. “I was going to invite you to come with me to Dakota Dark’s, that new bar and grille. I heard the food is good and the eye candy top-notch … like lots of leather, tats, and even a few piercings thrown in.” Before Candace could say anything Melissa kept right on going. “Don’t worry. I won’t throw you to the wolves.” She threw her head back and started laughing at her very lame attempt to make a joke.
“Funny,” Candace deadpanned. She waited until Melissa had herself composed before continuing. “Just admit that you’re going there to pick up a guy, and that it has nothing to do with the food and the ‘nice’ atmosphere.”
“Well…” Candace lifted a brow, and Melissa laughed again. “It’s all muscles and testosterone, with a little aggression and big bulges thrown in. I mean, how can you say no to tats, bikers, leather and growling?”
“Growling?” Now it was Candace’s turn to laugh. “And when did you go out there?”
“When you and Ary bailed on me and I was forced to take Manny.” Manny, the geeky meerkat, was even more introverted than Candace. He had been in love with Melissa since the ninth grade, but he was barely as tall as Melissa, and stick-thin. He was also not Melissa’s type. They were all friends, but Manny didn’t bother trying to hide his clear infatuation for her best friend. It was cute, endearing, but also annoying as hell and even a bit creepy at times.
“Are you serious?” Candace already knew the answer, so the question was moot. “I’ll only go if you promise you won’t try and push me to go hit on some lonely looking guy sitting alone at the bar.”
It took Melissa a little too long to answer. “Deal.” Melissa grinned. “You think Ary can sneak away?” Melissa was already grabbing her phone out of her oversized bag.
“I talked to her earlier. Cole’s sick.”
“Poor baby.” Melissa pouted. “I’ll give her a call on the way home, and check up on him. Me and you are going to have so much fun tonight.” She clapped her hands together.
“You have to also promise you won’t bail on me if you see some hot piece of ass.”
“You know I wouldn’t do that.” Candace stared at her because they both knew that was a damn lie. “I did that once, and that was only because Ary had gone home with Charlie, and you were all hot and heavy with Chad. I thought for sure you’d be hitting that later in the evening.” Candace curled her lip in disgust. “Besides, that was like how long ago?”
“Just promise. I don’t want to look like a desperate idiot just sitting there alone.” Melissa reached out and grabbed her hand, and the sympathetic look was totally plastered on a bit too he
avy. “Do you have to do that?”
Melissa looked confused. “Do what, sweetheart?” She batted her eyelashes and gave her a saccharine smile.
“Be a bitch?”
Melissa started laughing, and Candace smiled.
“You love that I’m a bitch and can make you smile.” This was true, of course. “I’m not going to leave my girl hanging. I just need to slut it up, so I can catch some hot shifter’s eyes.” She wagged her eyebrows. “Have your ass ready by eight. We’ll have hot wings and margaritas.”
“Sounds lovely.” Candace said without any emotion, which only had Melissa grinning.
“Toddles, babes.” Melissa turned and made her way to the front door, her heels clicking on the tile. The sound of the front door opening and closing preceded Melissa’s departure.
Chapter Two
When they pulled into the parking lot of Dakota Dark’s the streetlights were showcasing the line of motorcycles off to the side of the building and the ones parked in front of the bar. There were a lot of men and women leaning against the bikes, and Candace would be lying if she didn’t admit the sight of all that leather was a bit intimidating.
“This place looks like it’s going to eat us alive.”
Melissa laughed and patted Candace on the thigh. “Girl, that’s what I’m hoping.” She looked at her friend, and saw her straight white teeth flashing in the darkened interior of the car. “Come on before all the hotties leave.” Candace rolled her eyes, but grabbed her purse and climbed out of Melissa’s Honda. Candace pulled at the hem of her skirt, the one Melissa had insisted she wear, but she was now regretting it. She had shoved the damn thing far back in her drawer, had even forgotten about it until Melissa had sniffed out the tiny scrap of flimsy black material and shoved it in her face. What was worse was Melissa had brought one of her own tops for Candace to wear, one that was cut so low her cleavage was on full display. She had never been this exposed out in public, and it was a bit unnerving.
