Forbidden Bond: A Paranormal Shifter Romance (Silver Moon Wolf Pack Book 1)

by Rae Foxx

  Forbidden Bond

  Silver Moon Wolf Pack

  Rae Foxx

  Market Street Books

  Text Copyright ©2020 by Rae Foxx

  The Series, characters, names, and related indicia are trademarks and © Rae Foxx.

  All Rights Reserved.

  Published by Market Street Books

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For Information regarding permission, write to:

  Rae Foxx at RaeFoxxBooks@gmail.com

  Production Management by Market Street Books

  Printed in USA

  This Edition, November 2020

  Contents

  1. Cami

  2. Luke

  3. Cami

  4. Luke

  5. Cami

  6. Luke

  7. Cami

  8. Luke

  9. Cami

  10. Cami

  11. Cami

  12. Luke

  13. Cami

  14. Luke

  15. Cami

  16. Luke

  17. Cami

  18. Luke

  19. Cami

  20. Luke

  21. Cami

  22. Luke

  23. Cami

  Now It’s Emma’s Turn

  Also by Rae Foxx

  Join Me Online!

  About the Author

  1

  Cami

  “Hey, new girl! Get me a drink, why don’t ya?” A beer-bellied man with dingy jeans and even dingier red suspenders sat across the bar from me.

  He must be in here a lot if he recognized me as new. Today was my first day, after all.

  “Cami,” I supplied my name with a smile, and he gave me a gap-toothed grin and scratched his salt and pepper beard, looking me up and down as he let out a royal burp. A whiff of his rotten Thousand Island dressing scent tickled my nose and it took real effort to plaster a grin to my face.

  “I would like a beer, pretty Cami.”

  “Coming up.” I grinned and sauntered away, well aware that he was staring at my ass that was being purposefully flaunted thanks to my studded jeans.

  I didn’t need my new boss, Vanessa, to tell me that form-fitting jeans and a push-up bra would produce better tips. I had worked enough bars to know that. This may not be a skyscraper in New York or a river cruise in Iowa, but the guys were the same and I needed the tips. The more tips I earned, the quicker I could get out of here.

  “That’s Tony. He’ll drink a baker’s dozen,” Vanessa whispered in my ear as I passed, the busty girl already handing me two bottles in anticipation. “Stops through town once a month or so, but the tips are good if you keep him with a fresh one.”

  “That I can do.” I shook my brown hair back and grabbed the bottles from her, handing them back to the Thousand Island drunkard before turning to the next thirsty trucker.

  Gotta love truck stop bars, happy men, good tips, even if they do like staring at my chest too much.

  Two more truckers came in, one of which licked his lips at my cleavage. I leaned against the back bar for a second, glad for the minute of calm. Well, minute not delivering drinks, this place was not calm. By the way the three men in the corner had come in, I was half-expecting a bar fight.

  “Hanging in there, Cami?” Vanessa asked, sidling up to where I was leaning against the bar.

  “Yeah, although I think my boobs might need a break before I do with how much action they are getting,” I said it with a grin and winked at a middle-aged biker who was nursing a bottle of jack and slurping in the sight of my cleavage like it was a lifeline.

  “I get that. My feet ache already,” she said, taking off her heels and stretching her toes. No way in hell I was wearing those, it wasn’t worth the extra tips for the foot aches. You couldn’t see them behind the bar, anyway.

  “I bet they do.” I smiled as boob guy asked for another Jack. As I slid the glass over to him, he never looked away from the twins.

  Vanessa raised an eyebrow at me curiously, “You really do have a knack for this, don’t you?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Vanessa must not have looked at my resume very closely. I had worked at more than a dozen bars in the last six years. What had started as a desire to work my way across the country in a tribute to my late father had stuttered to a stop and stranded me at more than one bar as the funds dried up.

  Either that or ‘The Top Tier on The Round’ didn’t sound much like a bar name to her. I was going to guess that seeing as this place was called ‘Nessa’s Place’.

  “I’ve worked plenty of bars,” I gave her a grin and served the next guy, looking at the rowdy bikers in the corner who had begun yelling at each other again.

  “Not this kind of bar. No one’s been to one like this.” She stuck her chest out like a proud mama.

  I guess I could see why. She wasn’t wrong, after all. I’d worked in plenty of bars in my puddle-jumping across the US.

  I’d worked tall circular tables where men in suits gathered, not wanting to go straight home or just needing a drink to deal with the day. Or swanky joints with pasties and ass cheeks flapping all over the place, dollar bills flying everywhere. I’ve even worked in a few holes-in-the-wall that had rat infestations and newly twenty-one-year-old’s proclaiming them as trendy.

  Instead of suits, the men here wore jeans past their expiration date and t-shirts with logos from beer companies or the names of their rigs. Instead of the smell of money and expensive cologne, this place smelled like worn leather and stale, generic cigarettes.

  “Gritty douchebags are a dime a dozen, even in the city,” I corrected her. “Even the ones who are hot are usually assholes or think the world owes them something.”

  “Well, every once in a blue moon, there’s one or two that will come in that are worth your time.” Vanessa barked out a laugh and suddenly started rearranging her bra, much to the pleasure of the men sitting at the bar. “Don’t be so quick to dismiss the scruffy ones, Cami. Like that one over there in the corner with his friends. Goddamnit, that is one fine specimen.”

  She was already making puppy dog eyes at the loud biker boys I had seen come in a few minutes ago. The four of them had stopped barking at each other and were seated at the corner booth heads low as they laughed about something.

  They all looked like what I would expect bikers to look like, nothing to throw your tits at. Well, except one of them. The one near the edge of the booth...he had longer, wild curls that framed his face and a jawline that looked like a model with the sexiest five-o-clock shadow I had seen. Tattoos covered his skin and peeked out under the sleeves of his gray t-shirt.

  I think my pussy has grown a heartbeat. Me-ow.

  “The one with the short hair and leather boots?” I asked, curious about which one she was interested in.

  Right there the long-haired bad boy let out a bark of a laugh at something one of his friends said. The sound penetrated my sternum and reverberated right through me. Who would have thunk that sound could turn into a missile?

  “Yeah, that one. He’s been in a time or two, but hasn’t ever stayed this long. Maybe he’s waiting for something.” Vanessa waggled her eyebrows at me and poured up three shots of tequila to a man who looked like the last thing he needed was a drink. He reached for the glass several times before actually getting the damned thing into his beefy hand and another five minutes was spent putting the glass to
his lips. I wondered where she would cut him off for the night, each bar had their own rules.

  “A stable relationship?” I said with a laugh, that clearly wasn’t it, and Vanessa laughed as hard as I did.

  “I’m sure that’s it,” Vanessa grinned and put back on her shoes, still eyeing the rugged bikers. She wasn’t the only one, I couldn’t seem to turn away.

  Although, I wish the guy would turn so I could see his face. I was starting to feel weird staring at his hair, shoulders, and the tiny bit of jaw that I saw when he turned his head.

  “He wasn’t full of bullshit promises about dating or love or ‘maybe I’ll call you later’ when we both know they won’t.”

  “He seems the type...” I continued on our facade, both of us giggling like schoolgirls.

  Vanessa pulled on a straight face and put on a clean apron, practically drooling as she stared at them. “Screw all that. Sometimes a girl needs a good fuck.”

  “That’s very true,” I replied, wondering if I could convince the curly god to take a ride with me in the backroom.

  I wasn’t against meeting my own needs, and as any girl knows sometimes a battery-powered boyfriend doesn’t cut it.

  “Hey, you good if I disappear for five minutes?” She stepped right up to me; voice low as she tried to push her meaning the right way. She didn’t need to... “Or maybe ten if I’m lucky?”

  I couldn’t ignore the way my stomach dropped out of place. I wasn’t in the mood for sloppy seconds.

  “Yeah. I’m good.” I gave her a wink and turned toward the guys at the bar, not wanting to see how Vanessa’s sex-capade went down.

  “Baby girl, I think I need something from the top shelf tonight.” Tony pulled my attention from the other side of the bar and pointed at the shelves behind me. I was surprised this place had anything other than Bud Light on tap. “Hennessy, if you don't mind.” He grinned, revealing more gaps than teeth. I swore his chapped lips cracked with the motion.

  “Coming up.” I whirled around for the bottle and poured a generous shot and slid it across the bar careful not to touch his hand which he had extended out. What did he expect, for me to hold his hand and take him to the back room?

  Ugh. Yes, yes, he did.

  I let my gaze drift toward the guy again and what I saw burned inside of me like a red-hot iron. Vanessa was on the guy’s lap, her legs straddling his hips. She bucked and pressed her groin into his and another shot of rage raced down my spine as my fists balled at my sides.

  What the hell?

  I was not one to get jealous, and I was not one to get angry that some girl had reached a guy before me. Especially about a guy whose face I hadn’t even seen.

  This was not like me.

  Fuck. Pull yourself together, Cami.

  I forced myself to turn to the next guy, Mr. Cleavage was now drooling as he stared at my chest. “Anything else?”

  “Another.” He shook the empty glass and, still not looking away from my chest, pushed another twenty in the jar.

  I was starting to think I had picked the wrong bar to spend a month at. If this town hadn’t pulled me to it when I had been driving down I-9 in my busted Corolla, I doubt I would even be here.

  I grabbed the bottle and moved to pour, my gaze drifting back up to Vanessa on the biker’s lap. She leaned forward and whispered something in his ear. The two of them instantly rose from the booth as she pulled him over to the back room where the inventory was kept.

  All of the rage came down like a herd of angry horses, my fist clenching the bottle in my hand so tight that a loud crack echoed in my ears.

  I jumped at the sound, at the tequila that was covering the counter thanks to a crack in the bottle.

  I had held the fucking thing so tight that it had cracked.

  Okay, that wasn’t normal.

  I nearly dropped the bottle in shock, throwing the empty thing in the recycling bin as though it was made of acid and turned, grabbing a cloth to wipe up the tequila that had now spread all across the bar.

  “You gonna roll in it and let us do body shots?” Tony chuckled, all of the other men at the bar, raising their glasses in a cheerful agreement.

  “Ha ha,” I teased, giving them all a smile, although I may have leaned forward more than usual as I cleaned the bar.

  As I forced myself not to look to the back room.

  Hell, I might take them up on the body shots. It would get my mind off whatever they are doing anyway.

  This ugly jealousy was not for me. Something in the air of this place was making me go crazy.

  “Fuck,” I whispered mostly to myself but Toothless heard me and cackled.

  “Yep. Fucking is what they are about to do, all right.”

  2

  Luke

  The storage room door closed behind us and the overeager waitress, Vanessa, or Vanna, or something, pulled me in, spinning me around and slammed my back against the far wall. Hands on her tiny little hips, I pulled her into me, biting at her lower lip and sending her whimpering. I could tell the sound was faked and forced, but I didn’t care.

  In seconds, she’d popped the buttons on her too-tight shirt revealing a scarlet lace bra underneath.

  God. Those tits were too perfect to be real. I slid my hand between lace and skin, the warm flesh prickling beneath my fingers as I pinched and pulled at the delicate nipple hiding there. Her moans alone were enough to make a man burst.

  “Not your first rodeo, sweetheart?” I asked as she kissed me again, her hand over mine as I massaged her too perfect breast.

  “Nope. Not my last either.”

  Not her. Not our mate.

  My wolf spoke to me through our mental connection. He only did that when he was pissed, which was all the time. He wanted to mate and not with just anyone. He wanted The One, and damn it if I could find her. My betas and I had been on this road trip for weeks. I was expected to find my mate and settle down as the Alpha. She was nowhere to be found, so what if I had one little romp to tide me over.

  The female in front of me moaned as she reached for the hem of her skirt, lifting it to reveal a strip of fabric that barely covered anything. Man, bitch was shaved. I growled and went to kiss her neck, but instead was hit with the smell of stale bread and overripe fruit. My wolf turned his nose up at the thought of fucking her.

  My dick, however, had no notion of the sort. That bastard wanted what he wanted and wanted it now.

  “What brings you through here?” She asked, her sharp nails grazing my pecs as she unbuttoned my shirt and ran her hand over my abs. By the time she got to the last button, she was licking her lips.

  “We gonna talk or we gonna fuck?” I sputtered out as her hands went lower, popping the button on my jeans. The sound of the zipper being pulled down filled the room and made my wolf growl angrily. Thank God she couldn’t hear it.

  “That’s what I love to hear, baby,” She cooed and slipped her hand down the tight boxer briefs, her finger grazing the swollen head of my cock.

  Damn.

  Enough of the thinking. I leaned forward and kissed her. Her lips tasted like rotten perfume and her mouth tasted the same. I had tasted worse; every woman would taste like this until my wolf got what it wanted.

  Mate.

  Yeah, got it. But right now, I deserved this pussy. I had been traveling too far, and too long. I had needs and this prowling waitress so eagerly bucking her hips in front of me would have to do.

  I reached forward and cupped her full breasts making her moan.

  “Go down, baby. I want to see those lips on my cock.” My voice barked as I commanded her. My wolf snarled and retreated; pissed off that the female I was about to fuck wasn’t my mate at all.

  “Mmmm, yummy,” Vanessa, yeah, that was her name, grinned and licked her lips, her hands dragging down my side as she went to her knees, her hands dipping below my waistband to pull my firm erection to her wet lips.

  I couldn’t help but groan.

  God, I needed this. I leaned back,
pressing my cock toward her already opened mouth when the door flung open, and another one of the employees came into view, cheeks flushed, eyes wide, mouth open in shock.

  “Oh, my God, I’m so sorry!” My wolf came to attention at her voice, hackles up, howl building in my chest.

  Her clean lemon and lavender scent touched my nose, and my wolf went into a full howl. Our eyes met and hers, brown and golden at the same time, widened. Locked. Frozen. She could feel it too.

  Mate.

  The beast inside me reared up and clawed me from the inside out, forcing the knowledge into my senses and my brain. This woman, the one who’d barged in, was mine, that one female in the world that I’d been searching for.

  And here I was, about to get sucked off by a random stranger right in front of her.

  Fuck.

  “Camille! Get the fuck out of here!” Vanessa turned around, waving the girl away before going back to swallow my cock.

  I pulled back from Vanessa's mouth and jerked my pants up, struggling to get the zipper up around my hardness.

  “Um, I just...I was getting some. Shit. Sorry!” Her voice washed over me like a warm, weighted blanket, gripping me in place and holding like bars of iron. Iron that held me to her. Her eyes flashed with something supernatural even though she registered as nothing but human to my beast. But before she shut the door she turned and looked at me.

  She knew. Her scent wasn't recognized as a shifter, but she felt something. She knew I was important to her.