Outback Master

by Lexxie Couper

  Upward.

  Upward.

  Marc was laughing when he broke the surface. As was Harper. Treading water, Keith turned, finding them both a few feet away. If Harper was naked, Keith couldn’t tell. The only thing above the water was her head, her wet hair clinging to the shape of her skull before floating on the surface behind her like a golden fan.

  “It’s freezing!” The smile in her eyes belied her complaint.

  Keith chuckled. “It’s not exactly warm.”

  “Quit your bellyaching, you two.” Marc splashed water at Keith. “And live in the moment.”

  Harper splashed him back, the move disturbing the water enough for Keith to notice a hint of dusky shadow where her nipples would be.

  His groin tightened, the cold water having fuck-all effect on his hard-on. Jesus, what the fuck was he doing? What would he say when—

  Water splattered against his face. He threw a warning glare at Harper, his pulse quick. “Oh, you wanna start a war, do you? Think a lone American woman can defeat two Aussie blokes?”

  She splashed him again. “Bring it on, Kangaroo Jack.”

  “Right, that’s it.” Keith threw a look at Marc. “Ready, Thomo?”

  Marc nodded. “Ready, Blue.”

  Keith lunged for Harper. As did Marc. At the exact second Harper disappeared under the water with a squeal.

  The water fight lasted a good fifteen minutes. By the time it was finished, Keith had not only seen Harper’s exquisite breasts more than once, he’d felt them squashed against his back as she’d tried to dunk him under water. If it wasn’t for Marc “saving” him by snaring her around the waist and hauling her off his back, Keith would have gladly gone under, just to experience the sensation of them brushing the back of his head.

  It was a giddy moment. A wonderful moment.

  He’d never had so much fun with a naked woman, let alone one he barely knew. And despite the furious water fight, he was still as erect as ever.

  Was Marc in the same state?

  And if so, what did they do about it?

  “Time out!” Harper called, the words almost lost in her laugh. “Time out.”

  Keith shot Marc a look as she ducked under the water.

  His best mate looked back at him, his expression unreadable.

  “Okay,” Harper resurfaced, smoothing her wet hair down the back of her head and neck, “I call uncle. You win.”

  Marc chuckled. “Ah, the Australian brilliance is too much for the Yank. Onya, Blue. We win.”

  Harper bobbed in the water, the tops of her shoulders peaking above the surface. “Why Blue? Is it your eyes?”

  Marc directed a splash at Keith’s head. “It’s his hair.”

  Keith tried not to laugh at Harper’s puzzled frown. “But his hair is a reddish-blond,” she pointed out.

  “Yep.” Marc dropped her a wink and began swimming toward the far bank. “That’s why we call him Blue.”

  Harper turned her frown on Keith. “I don’t get it.”

  Keith shrugged, the feel of the water on his balls and cock more than a tad distracting. Or maybe it was the way drops of water clung to Harper’s eyelashes. Or the way she was slowly swimming closer to him, so close the ripples she made from each gentle dog-paddle stroke lapped against his chest. “It’s an Australian thing.”

  She looked at him for a long moment, an ambiguous expression clouding her eyes. And then she said, “Is kissing an American woman until she almost passes out an Australian thing?”

  He nodded, fighting to keep his own expression composed. “It is.”

  She caught her bottom lip with her teeth, dipping down into the water enough to cover her chin as she did so. “Can I confess something?”

  Keith nodded again. His chest was tight. His heart beating fast.

  The sounds of Marc’s strokes seemed distant. Another world away.

  Harper’s lips curved. “I didn’t think I would get so turned-on being kissed by a gay cowboy.”

  “A what?” Marc’s shout punched the tranquility of the billabong.

  Keith blinked. “A what?”

  Harper stared back, her eyes wide. “A gay cowboy. Oh God, I mean a gay stockman. I’m sorry.”

  Keith’s breath caught in his throat. “Who said I was gay?”

  This time, Harper blinked. “Ronnie McNamara. On the drive from the airport. He said you two have a contest to see who kisses the female visitors first and that you’re gay lovers. And Amy always talks about how close you two—”

  “Fucking Big Mac!” Marc’s shout made Harper flinch. Keith wasn’t surprised. The tone of his best mate’s voice was scary. He flung the jackaroo a quick look, watching him swim toward them both, strokes fast and powerful before he disappeared beneath the water.

  “Don’t worry,” Harper said, her voice flustered, her eyes wider by the second. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise. Your secret’s safe with—”

  “We’re not gay, Harper,” Keith interrupted, keeping his own voice calm.

  The water suddenly stirred beside Harper, Marc surfacing from beneath to tower over her. “Does this feel like we’re gay?” he asked, a heartbeat before he lowered his head and captured her lips.

  Note from Mari and Lexxie

  We hope you enjoyed this book, we’d so appreciate it if you’d help others enjoy it too.

  Recommend it. Please help other readers find this book by recommending it.

  Review it. Please tell other readers why you liked this book by reviewing it at online retailers or your blog. Reader reviews help our books continue to be valued by distributors/resellers. We adore each and every reader who takes the time to write one!

  If you love the book or leave a review, please email mari@maricarr.com or lexxie@lexxiecouper.com so we can thank you with a personal email. Your support means more than you’ll ever know! Thank you!

  About Mari

  Virginia native Mari Carr is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestseller of contemporary erotic romance novels. With over one million copies of her books sold, Mari was the winner of the Romance Writers of America’s Passionate Plume award for her novella, Erotic Research.

  Connect with Mari online:

  Twitter: http://twitter.com/MariCarr

  Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/MariCarrWriter

  Join Mari’s Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/NmRGf

  Visit Mari’s Website: www.maricarr.com

  About Lexxie

  Award-winning romance author Lexxie Couper started writing when she was six, and hasn't stopped since. She's not a deviant, but she does have a deviant's imagination, and a desire to entertain readers with her words. Add the two together and you get erotic romances that can make you laugh, cry, shake with fear, or tremble with desire…sometimes all at once.

  Connect with Lexxie online:

  Email Lexxie at: lexxie@lexxiecouper.com

  Twitter: http://twitter.com/lexxie_couper

  Visit Lexxie's website at http://www.lexxiecouper.com, where she occasionally makes a fool of herself on her blog.

  eBooks by Mari Carr

  Visit Mari’s Website: www.maricarr.com

  June Girls, a Time Travel/Historical Romance series

  1. No Recourse

  2. No Regrets

  Farpoint Creek Cattle Station, a Contemporary BDSM Erotic Romance series

  1. Outback Princess

  2. Outback Cowboy

  3. Outback Master

  4. Outback Lovers

  Madison Girls, a Contemporary Erotic Romance series

  1. Kiss Me Kate

  2. Three Reasons Why

  Stand Alone Titles

  Bound By the Past

  Covert Affairs

  eBooks by Lexxie Couper

  Visit Lexxie’s website at

  http://www.lexxiecouper.com

  Stimulated, a Contemporary Romance series

  1. Blowing It Off

  2. Revving It Up

  3. Switching It On

  4. Plugging
It In

  Heart of Fame, a Contemporary Romance series

  4.5. Compliance

  5.5. A Single Knight

  8.5. Combustible

  9. Balls Up

  10. Lust’s Rhythm

  The Boundaries, a Science Fiction Romance series

  1. Assassin

  2. Agent

  3. Animal

  Savage Australis, a Paranormal Romance series

  1. Savage Retribution

  Fire Mates, a Paranormal Romantic Suspense series

  1. Sera’s Dragon

  2. How to Love Your Dragon

  3. Crouching Tigress Horny Dragon

  4. Scorched Desire

  Dangerous Desires, an Erotic Contemporary Romance series

  1. The Bad Boy Next Door

  2. The Good Girl In My Bed

  Stand-Alone Titles

  The Stone's Soul

  Shadow Whispers

  Copping a Feel

  Kat and Mouse

  Mari & Lexxie recommend … Dakota Cassidy

  Outlaw Alpha

  Fangs of Anarchy, Book 2

  Dakota Cassidy

  Prologue

  In the beginning…

  In the year 2004, paranormals were forced from hiding after an unfortunate public mishap involving a vampire by the name of Martin Lawler, who accidentally outed the existence of various supernatural races to the human population.

  In a word, Martin screwed every paranormal working and living peacefully among the humans without their knowledge.

  Mass hysteria ensued amongst human citizens, who raised questions about the safety of paranormals in living, social, and working environments. There were protests to rival the Vietnam marches. Humans demonstrating against the paranormal weighed down with garlic wrapped around their bodies and holy water in flasks, carrying signs that read “Down With Team Twilight!” and “Who Let The Dogs Out?”

  The human governments decided it was unconstitutional, and likely unwise, to attempt to round up the paranormal and kill them all. (Which had been the original plan, until the otherworldly revolted with the threat of a blood-sucking, entrails-eating uprising the likes of which humans had never seen.)

  Still, the widespread panic forced the governments, sires and councils of both paranormal and human persuasions to convene a summit in order to contain fear and create newer, stricter laws for all concerned.

  Some laws suckier than others…

  As a result, humans and paranormal alike were relocated to newly created territories and banned from each other in a global form of segregation. Many of the paranormal were threatened with mass extermination unless they uprooted and left their old lives behind, agreeing to resettle in new homes with small monthly supplemental funds from the government as consolation for the upheaval.

  As part of the new wave of laws, and in an effort to keep clans, packs, covens, and the like strong and pure, governing councils issued a warning to all races. While they must share living space, and in some cases, govern their newly appointed towns together without outside influence, no paranormal could engage in any form of cohabitation with another paranormal outside their race, unless already engaged in a multi-race relationship at the time of said edict.

  Meaning: No more vampire/werewolf or any other kind of mixed-species wookie-wook.

  Older, less-utilized laws were also reinstituted, such as pack mating rituals and the quest for clan purity, creating dissention and the cry for equal rights.

  Empowered paranormal women especially were none too pleased at being herded like cattle at a county fair during full-moon mate calls and essentially given no choice in mating matters. Several full-moon bloodbaths led by said empowered women occurred as a result before a major crackdown was instituted.

  Though, even after the peace treaties and summits between human and supernatural leaders, the paranormal were still at the government’s mercy just by virtue of their minority in numbers. The government used that against them, subtly, while trying to take them out by withholding vital necessities.

  Blood, on which humans had placed a sky-high tax, became a black-market item for vampires. Lower-middle-class vampires were starving, even dying painful deaths by the dozens without it, forcing some clans to seek out an illegal synthetic supplement.

  An uprising called The Opposition sprouted across the country in various forms, protesting the discrimination paranormals now face, with members living their lives in hiding for the greater good. Though considered wanted criminals, they remain steadfast to the cause.

  Think Doomsday Preppers times ten.

  In other cases, some paranormals chose to move to their new towns and become leaders in their communities, rallying for peaceful coexistence despite the hardships placed upon them.

  This is the story of one such town, and how some hot biker vampires formed a gang called Fangs of Anarchy. Made up of one-time corporate and medical professionals who aren’t afraid to open up a can of whoop-ass to protect not just the town they now call home, but the women they love…

  Chapter 1

  “If it isn’t Freya Ashe. Cranky, single werewolf,” a gravelly voice, rich with mischief and doused with sarcasm, murmured in her ear.

  “If it isn’t Liam McConnell. Traitorous, equally single vampire,” she shot back, refusing to acknowledge the shiver his silken lips so near her ear created.

  “Here to watch the mating game?” he asked, his deep tone resonating in the cold air.

  “Here because I’m forced by pack law to be here, and you damn well know it, McConnell.”

  “Right. Pack rules say all single female werewolves must attend. Males aren’t mandatory. Got it.” He made a check mark in the air with his finger then grinned at her.

  She turned to face him fully, almost angry that even under the purple gloom of the coming night sky, and as pale as he was, he was fucking magnificent to look at.

  His presence always riled her; always set her on the edge of something she didn’t understand, other than to rationalize it as raw physical attraction, so she looked away again.

  Freya burrowed her runny nose deeper into her scarf and watched her pack leader and the Road Dogs biker crew president, Courtland Dodd, strut across the wide planks of the town’s gazebo as he prepared to name his mate like some bloated black sheep from the ugly side of the peacock family. Pinky, Courtland’s right hand, scurried behind him in a ridiculous caricature of a cartoon sidekick.

  “Speaking of pack rules, shouldn’t you be home studying the werewolf laws and bylaws and stupider-than-stupid laws right now? Isn’t that what all good vampires who’ve betrayed their clans do when they jump ship and join a werewolf pack?”

  He moved to stand next to her, the bulk of his biceps just touching her shoulder, making her heart thump erratically in her ears. “Isn’t that what I’m doing as we speak? Studying a stupider-than-stupid werewolf law? What better way than to witness the stupid firsthand?”

  Point for the vampire. The gorgeous, delectable, traitorous vampire. This was a stupid law. Stupid and utterly archaic. “The mating ritual certainly falls under the stupider-than-stupid category.”

  He clucked his tongue, leaning into her, making her nose twitch with the scent of his spicy cologne. “I emphatically agree. Who, in their right mind, wants to mate for life?”

  “Said the traitorous vampire who plum out of nowhere wants to be a werewolf.”

  Liam rocked back on the heels of his worn boots as if he hadn’t a care in the world. The flames from the bonfire in the middle of the town square where the men gathered highlighted his chiseled features, kissing his just-below-chin-length, raven hair like a lover.

  That was Liam. Glib and smug, with a little aloof and bitter resentment on the side. “I never said I wanted to be a werewolf. You don’t see me asking anyone to bite me and turn me into one of you, do you?”

  He was taking a passive-aggressive stab at her best friend and former pack mate, Claire Montgomery, who’d done just that—had Li
am’s brother Irish bite her so they could become eternal mates.

  But tonight wasn’t the night for Liam to poke at her friend. Freya despised the mating ritual. It rubbed raw every nerve in her defiantly feminist body. She didn’t need a mate, and she wasn’t especially interested in the longevity of her pack.

  “Really? Then why are you and Courtland suddenly BFFs? Because the last time I checked, you and the Fangs all hated Courtland Dodd. Yet, every day since you had that all-out brawl with your brother over Claire and he booted you from the club, I see you cozying up to Courtland at Ahab’s. Oh, wait!” She paused to sharpen her tongue. “I know what it is. You’re not a Fang anymore, so that made your dislike of Courtland evaporate like it never existed, right? Leave Claire out of this, Liam. She’s happy. That’s all I give a damn about.”

  Liam scoffed, his distaste for her best friend evident.

  Ah. There it was. Just a small piece of Liam’s bitter pie, rearing its ugly head. His fight with his brother over Claire.

  No one was more surprised than Freya when Liam and his brother Irish had engaged in a fistfight the likes of which no one in their small town of Rock Cove, Maine, had seen since their mutual races had been forced to cohabitate under the new human government laws.

  It began when her best friend Claire Montgomery, a werewolf and the local librarian, and Irish McConnell, president of the biker club Fangs of Anarchy, fell in love. A relationship Liam openly despised due to the tensions it brought between his vampire clan and Freya’s pack.

  But Claire had fixed that—by having Irish turn her into a vampire. An honest-to-God bloodsucker. He’d drained her almost dry and reanimated her just to make Claire his for eternity.

  When Liam found out what his brother and Claire had done, he’d lost it. As a result of the ensuing fight, and the disrespect Liam displayed for Claire, Irish had booted his brother not just out of the Fangs, but of the McConnell clan—in front of everyone in the town square. Leaving Liam a lone wolf. No pun intended.