by Celia Kyle
Plus, after one too many, it was too easy to forget she had to treat humans like porcelain or she might accidentally hurt someone. Normal human girls—like she was pretending to be—weren’t able to pick up a coffee table and chuck it across the room with one hand. Hell, her freshman year, she nearly tore a frat boy’s arm clean off when he grabbed her ass at a party. She’d experienced a twinge of regret that he’d lost his baseball scholarship because she dislocated his shoulder, but he certainly learned never to grope a woman without her permission.
“You know I don’t drink much,” Jane reminded her friend. “I just want to dance.” She tugged on Elizabeth’s arm. “Come dance with me!”
Elizabeth slouched away like a ragdoll and bumped gracelessly against the bar. “Please? One shot. We’ll toast to graduation.”
“That’s months away.”
“Oh, please! Everyone knows you’re going to graduate top of the class.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “We should celebrate!”
Though Elizabeth’s “celebrate” sounded more like celibate and Jane’s wolf pawed at her. It was not a big fan of the word “celibate” and liked to remind her of that. Often.
“You’re right, it’s you we have to worry about,” Jane teased. “Fine, one shot, but no more after this. One and done.”
“Fine.” Elizabeth sounded like her tongue was a little too big for her mouth. “What’re we drinking?”
Jane smiled broadly at the bartender, which was all it took to grab his attention. He practically stopped mid-pour and rushed to them.
“What can I get you, ladies?”
“Two shots of Don Julio with lime and salt, please.” Jane beamed and he blinked.
“Sure thing.”
He dashed back to the other side of the bar, and Elizabeth snorted and rolled her eyes.
“What?” Jane frowned at her friend.
“You.”
“What’d I do?”
“I think it’s magic. You have some weird voodoo, dick whisperer, pied piper of the penis thing. It’s like a supernatural power. You just have to think you want a guy’s attention and then—” Elizabeth snapped her fingers. Or tried. She couldn’t get her fingertips to touch each other and stared at her hand cross-eyed for a while before finally giving up and flailing her hands instead. “Poof! He’s there.”
Jane snorted as if Elizabeth’s words were ridiculous. She couldn’t let on that her friend was way too close to the truth. “I’m just like everyone else.”
“Nope, uh uh, no way,” Elizabeth said, as the bartender set their drinks in front of them.
“Thanks,” Jane said with a flirty smile, tossing her long, strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder.
“No problem. This round’s on me.” He winked at Jane and then moved down the bar to help some other hapless maiden. It wasn’t until he was out of sight that she noticed he’d written his number on her cocktail napkin.
“Smooth,” Elizabeth sniffed. “How do I get them to do that? Or is it all about the boobage?” Elizabeth stared down at her own cleavage and jiggled her tits. “Do your job, dammit.”
Jane laughed. “What are you talking about? You’ve got great boobs.”
Elizabeth sighed, tossed back her shot, and then slammed the empty glass on the bar. She hissed as the tequila burned its way down her throat. “Don’t pretend you’re not built like one of those sexy mud flap girls.”
Jane quirked a brow and slid the shot glass out of her friend’s reach. “I think you’ve had plenty to drink now.”
Elizabeth always got like this when she drank. As a lifelong dancer, her frame was lean and wispy. She had very little in the chesticle region and next to no junk in her trunk.
And her point of comparison?
Jane. Always Jane. Or mud flaps, but that always circled back to Jane anyway.
It was one of the human quirks Jane had never understood and her wolf woofed its agreement. In the pack, no one focused on appearance. Okay, maybe it was only Jane who didn’t care. She’d never dressed to flaunt her bountiful curves. As the daughter of the alpha, it wouldn’t be seemly—or so he insisted.
“Elizabeth, let’s dance. I’m sick of standing around.”
Elizabeth shook her head and wobbled precariously. “No way. I’m heading back up to the room. If I try to dance, I’ll fall over.”
Jane felt a whisper of disappointment at calling it a night so early, but her bestie needed her. “Okay, let’s go.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, you stay and have fun. Enjoy yourself. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Jane tracked Elizabeth as she made her way into the hotel and kept an eye on her through the floor-to-ceiling windows until she boarded an elevator. Then she turned her attention to the darkened beach. The bar sat on the edge of the sand, lights casting a soft glow across the beach.
A handful of lovebirds danced at the edge of the circle of light, kicking up the sugary powder as they moved and dancing slowly despite the rapid beat of the music. She was tempted to move to the black space just beyond them, where she could see the stars glittering on the ocean’s surface like fireflies. Where she could be swallowed in the dark and enjoy being a faceless presence. She could do whatever she wanted and there wouldn’t be anyone to tell her it was “unseemly.”
Jane shook her head and made her way to the middle of the dance floor. She’d agreed to hit the bar with Elizabeth because she’d been promised dancing. Dammit, she was going to dance.
Shafts of light flashed in the delighted faces of the people crammed on the dance floor. The DJ’s light show was synced with the music, flashing a different color with every beat while the crowd jumped and danced to the up-tempo song. Just as quickly as the energy rose, it gradually settled into a gentle sway when a slower song filled the air. Jane closed her eyes and lost herself in the music, feeling the notes flow through her while she found her rhythm.
This was her time, her chance to unwind before the end of her career as a college student. After that? Her life would begin. Her human life. She’d find a job in her field of study—art history 4 lyfe—and do her best to “fit in.” Shifting wouldn’t be a part of her life anymore. Her wolf whined like it always did and Jane fought against giving in to that pitiful cry. It knew she’d become immune to its pouting and switched to growls instead, snarling its objection. It didn’t want to be turned into a second-class citizen inside her two-legged body.
She’d been born a werewolf. Why couldn’t she just be happy being a werewolf?
Jane mentally sighed. She had plans. Eventually she’d find a nice human man with his nice, boring human life, and then they’d settle down with a house and a white picket fence.
Couldn’t it see the benefit to a life in the suburbs? No fighting. No dominance games. No alpha telling her how to live her life or declare her actions “unseemly”?
She seriously hated that word.
Jane got back to reminding her wolf of “the plan.”
Children were out of the question, of course. She’d heard that mixed-breed babies had more trouble controlling their shifts than full-blooded wolves. She wouldn’t be able to hide her true nature if she had to control a feral child and she was determined not to risk being discovered.
Of course, her parents wouldn’t like her decision, especially her domineering father.
Her wolf nudged her, telling her that it agreed with her dad and she shouldn’t turn her back on her wolf heritage. She pushed the beast to the back of her mind, shoving it away from her surface thoughts. It retreated with an echoing growl, telling her that she should be thankful to have such a good alpha.
And her father really was a good alpha to the Coleman pack, but she couldn’t wait to be out from under his thumb and away from Wilde Mountain. He expected so much from her… Too much. She’d never asked to be the daughter of an alpha, so why should she have to abide by his arbitrary rules?
Rejecting life in the pack would be unthinkable, as far as he was concerned, and she had no d
oubt he’d put up a fight.
A wave of sadness washed over her and she closed her eyes. Lights flashed orange behind her closed eyelids and she struggled to move with the blood-thumping beat of the music.
As much as she hated the idea of staying with the pack, she’d also miss her parents—her mother’s smiling face and father’s grumbles and growls. But she had no choice. She would live life on her own terms, and if her father couldn’t accept that, she’d go somewhere her pack could never find her.
A hacker at school had already agreed to create her new identity… for a price. All that was left was to pick a place her family would never think to look for her and her life could begin.
And she only had a few months left.
Excitement overrode the twinge of sadness. Biting back a smile, Jane lost herself in the music again, rolling her hips along with the bassline and dropping low every now and then. Without anyone around her she felt freer than she had in years. She let her hair swish across her back as she moved.
But like all good things, it had to come to an end.
Something—someone—bumped against her back, and weak human hands slid around her waist. The stink of sweat, cloying cologne, and alcohol stung her nose and she tried to shimmy away, hoping the guy would get the hint and let her go.
He didn’t.
Instead, he gripped her tighter, pulled her ass into his crotch and whispered in her ear. “I like the way you move, baby.”
Baby? She wasn’t his baby.
Her inner wolf wanted to turn around and teach the human male why it was a bad idea to lay his hands on a werewolf. With one hand, she’d grip his wrist so hard his bones splintered. With the other… she’d ensure baby-making wasn’t in his future. Ever.
This stranger wasn’t an alpha, hence, not worthy of her. Except… Accepting the touch of human males was part of assimilating into human life, right? No human male could compare to the strength of even the weakest wolf, much less the alpha her position in the pack demanded.
She groaned and her wolf snarled. She’d have to get used to being around weak men. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make if it meant living life on her own terms.
But that didn’t mean they were allowed to rub their unimpressive members against her ass. Shaking her head, Jane gently pulled away. She wasn’t going to make a scene by breaking the dude’s arm. Unfortunately, the guy was an idiot. A drunk idiot, but still an idiot. He caught her wrist and tugged her back against him once more.
“Don’t leave, angel. You’re perfect right where you are.”
“Not so much,” she yelled above the music.
“We’re just getting started.”
“No, you’re not.”
The voice was deep and gruff and unfamiliar, and it set the hairs on her arms standing on end. So much more masculine than the whining tenor of the man who’d been grinding up on her. The warm evening air whispered over the crowd, delicate flavors of the sea intermingled with the aroma of those around her. Then she caught his scent.
Not bland or vague like human men. He was all musk, mountain air, and leather. Scents that crept into her and taunted her wolf. Exactly the way a man ought to smell.
Jane craned her neck to get a good look at him, but only a dark shadow slanted out from a commandingly tall frame. In the span of a blink, the human was ripped away and this new man took his place. Strong hands grasped her hips and a muscular body aligned with her curves. She melted into his firm touch, moving with the music without thinking as she breathed him in. His scent teased and taunted her, making her head spin with the flavors.
God, nobody had smelled this tempting in years. Not since she’d left her pack. Not since…
She breathed deeper and caught a rustic woodiness that was all too familiar. If she didn’t know any better, she’d guess he was a wolf too. But that was impossible, right?
Of all the random bars in all the random states, what were the odds two wolves would wind up dancing together in the same beachside bar?
Jane’s brain wanted her to turn and ask him, but her body wanted to continue moving in perfect time with his. So, she remained silent and let her body take the lead, reveling in the hard lines of his abs and a particularly tempting hardness against her ass. The more they danced, the more Jane was sure the man overwhelming her with his mere scent wasn’t human.
He gripped her hips tighter as a new song began, and her wolf purred with happiness. With him snug against her, Jane ached for him to explore her body, to turn her around and let her feel every massive inch of his body hidden beneath his tight jeans.
Yet his hands stayed in place as her heartbeat soared.
Seriously? This was insane. She didn’t even know what the dude looked like, but already her body howled for him to take her. She wanted him to run his work-calloused palms over her breasts and tease her right there on the dance floor. She felt more alive than ever—swaying with the music and allowing her body to move as she desired.
She rolled her hips, rubbing her ass against this man’s growing need. Heat raced through her, a desperate throb taking up residence at the juncture of her thighs. She repeated the tempting move and figured it’d only be minutes before he finally lost control and took her. All she had to do was get him there.
The song switched again and a deep, rumbling bassline echoed the low pulse of need between her thighs. Swiveling her hips in time with the music, Jane pushed her ass up against him a hint harder, delighting in his surprised gasp.
“You’re trying to tease me,” he growled in her ear. That deep rumble had the tips of her breasts tightening into hard pebbles.
“Is it working?” she whispered in return.
Gripping her harder, he spun her to face him and held her just as snugly as he had before. She faced a broad wall of muscle covered by a loose linen shirt tucked neatly into a pair of snug jeans. It took every ounce of strength for Jane not to sink her fangs into his flesh and claim him. Hopefully he wouldn’t see how badly she drooled at the idea.
It felt like it took a year for her to crane her neck far enough to meet the stranger’s gaze. Then her heartbeat stuttered.
For a moment, all she could see were harsh lines, and then his feral beauty came into focus. His jaw was made of stone, and his light brown eyes held mesmerizing flecks of gold. She couldn’t tear her gaze away, even if she wanted to.
Without a word, his eyes flickered from brown to a glowing amber, confirming her suspicions. Whatever the odds, he was a werewolf, and somehow they’d found each other. When she flashed her own amber eyes, he growled in approval.
“Thought so,” he muttered, his eyes never wavering from hers—more amber than brown now. “Name?”
“Jane. You?”
“Reese.”
The rumble of his animalistic voice sent another thrill of pleasure straight to her core. She could probably come right there if he’d just keep talking.
His next words took her right to the edge. “Let’s go.”
It wasn’t a question and she didn’t mind his demanding tone one bit.
Thick, warm fingers wrapped around her hand and Jane followed along eagerly as he led her through the crowd. His restraint at not tearing everyone in their way to shreds was admirable and everything, but Jane’s wolf howled at her to get down to business already. She had a scratch that only Reese could reach. She wanted him more than anything or anyone else in her entire life.
Being so close to him, covered in his scent and body prepared to accept every inch of his cock…
Nothing had ever felt more right.
Buy or Borrow at Amazon
Real Men of Wildridge: His Fiery Kiss
One-click book 1 in the Real Men of Wildridge series, His Fiery Kiss!
Elissa Malkin stared out the front windshield, head tilted back against the headrest as she listened to the engine idle, a mix of pure boredom and annoyance coursing through her. She heaved a sigh, so bored she stared at the reflection of the moon in a puddle a few ya
rds from where she’d parked. Could her shifter-enhanced eyesight allow her to see the movement of the moon as it crossed the sky while hours passed? Watching the moon—the shifter version of watching paint dry. Ugh.
One fifteen in the morning, according to the glowing green digital clock mounted in her dashboard. Was this the time people considered the witching hour? It certainly didn’t feel extra-magical to her. Not right now. Not while everything was too still, too expected.
The neighborhood was one of the nicest areas Elissa had ever set foot in. Tall, broad, majestic houses that had spectacular views of the Pacific Ocean loomed on either side of the street. Every yard was impeccably manicured with vivid flower gardens and grass so pretty and healthy it looked almost fake. Elissa thought that was a fitting description for the people who lived in Malibu—too perfect to be real. Of course, in the city of Los Angeles, what else could one expect?
She’d come into the evening anxious and excited, but as the minutes ticked by waiting for her father’s contact to show up, she’d grown irritated. This little excursion was proving to be a huge waste of time. She gripped the steering wheel, trying not to let her frustration get the better of her.
Too late.
“Where the hell is this guy, Dad?” she asked, lolling her head over to give him a weary look. “We’ve been sitting here with our thumbs up our butts for a half-hour already.”
“I don’t know, sweets,” Cray Pardus said with a stoic shrug. “When your friend asks for a ride because his car broke down, you give him a ride.”
“At one in the morning?” Elissa asked, warily scanning the dark for movement. “Besides, anyone who lives in Malibu can surely afford a rental car. In fact, I’m surprised you know anyone who lives here. No offense.”
