1 Never Screw a Werewolf
“Another one, hunter?” the hotel bartender asked, the dim lights making his blue demon horns cast macabre shadows across his face.
I nodded. Fuck this day. I needed all the alcohol to erase it from my mind.
He slid the amber glass across the bar and it landed in my outstretched fingertips. Tilting my head back, I took it down in one big swallow, relishing the burn it caused all the way down to my belly.
“Bad day?” a gruffly male voice asked beside me.
I side-eyed the beautiful specimen, letting my eyes roam over his tattooed arms, while trying not to notice the way his muscles begged to be freed from his tight powder-blue shirt. My nostrils flared as I inhaled his earthy scent, and immediately felt warmth pool between my legs. Normally, I had a general fuck-men-and-the-horse-they-rode-in-on attitude, but this one… he was yum. A werewolf, extremely dominant by the smell of him.
My kryptonite.
And I was way too drunk.
‘You have a soft spot for werewolves,’ Cass mind-messaged me from across the bar.
I shot a glare at my demon imp partner. At two-feet tall, with hot pink fur, dark blue horns, and a potbelly, he was hard to miss. ‘Shhh,’ I sent back.
To the werewolf with arresting honey eyes, I simply nodded. “Death in the family.”
“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that. For a second, I thought you might be here on official business.” He motioned to my supernatural bounty hunter badge, and my gun.
I gave him a hooded stare and inched closer to him, nearly falling off my stool. “Were you nervous?”
He grinned—and fuck me, he had dimples.
“Oh, it’d take a little more than a five-foot, hundred-pound female to bring me in.” He winked.
Oh, I could wipe the floor with him, but his boast turned me on for some reason.
“Five-two actually, and a hundred-ten. Muscle weighs more than fat, remember?” I winked back.
His grin got wider as the bartender brought us both refills. By the way his hand moved slowly to catch the drink, I’d say he was about as hammered as I. If not more.
“What’s your story? Why are you here tonight?” I peeked over the rim of my glass, taking a slow sip, and watching him like a lioness watches her prey.
The wolf sighed, running a hand through his wild dark hair. “Business transaction didn’t exactly go as planned,” was all he offered.
I was going to break all my rules tonight. Fuck it. I was back in this godforsaken town, out of work, and grieving my beloved dead grandmother. I’d just returned from scattering her ashes. There was no way I could spend the night in her cabin. I wanted to feel something other than loss. Anything else. If only for one night.
‘Want me to come over and bail you out?’ Cass asked from his perch at the end of the bar, where he was talking to a lanky female fae.
‘Don’t you dare cockblock me,’ I warned my bestie. ‘Not tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.’
He groaned, which sounded weird vibrating around my drunken brain. ‘You told me to never let you sleep with a werewolf again,’ he pressed.
Breaking all my rules. ‘Fuck off, Cass. Though you know I love you.’
Standing, I came face to face with the werewolf. At five-two, him sitting on the barstool was probably the only time I’d get to be face to face with him.
I tried not to slur. “I’m not really interested in talking. Want to come upstairs with me?”
His eyebrows hit his hairline as he cleared his throat, and looked around the room like maybe he thought he was on Candid Camera or something.
“You seem drunk. I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he finally replied.
Laughter erupted from my lips; I couldn’t help it.
Laughing in his face, I then looked at his lips as my mirth faded. “What if I want to be taken advantage of? Just this once?” I leaned in, wedged myself between his legs, and drew his bottom lip into my mouth, sucking it softly.
His imposing frame loomed over me as he shot off the barstool, eyes going amber yellow.
“Where’s your room?” His voice was barely human.
My lips curved into a slow grin. Tonight was going to be all kinds of fun.
‘Evie, stop whoring in public, and get a room!’ Cass shouted into my mind.
I winced, realizing I should have never let Gran do that mental connection spell. I’d probably be tied to Cass’ mind for life now, since she was dead and couldn’t reverse it.
With a final glare at Cass and his fae concubine, I led the werewolf to my room.
Fuck this day. Fuck it hard.
2 Tequila Makes Me Sexy
I realized exactly how drunk I was when I hit the narrow, dingy stairwell at the back of the bar. Leaning against its entrance, I peered upward trying to count the steps.
“You know, we don’t have to do this,” the werewolf said, pressing his body against mine. The feel of his hands on my bare waist was motivation enough to get my ass up the stairs. The feel of his hard-on straining through his pants was a whole other kind of motivation.
“Yes we… do,” I slurred. And I really did want to do it. The heat of his touch alone ignited a flame inside me that I’d ignored for a long time. Months? Years? Who the fuck knew anymore. Men were dicks. I was sure the werewolf would be no exception, but tonight he’d give me something I wanted, something I needed.
I planted a boot on the first rise, and narrowed my eyes at the fuckers. I could do this. I was a bounty hunter, for Christ’s sake. I took down scary-ass shit that belonged in nightmares. Stairs would not cockblock me tonight.
There. I was doing it. No biggie, thanks to the railing.
But apparently I was taking too long. The wolf behind me growled and swept strong arms beneath my legs, lifting me into the air.
A gasped escaped me. I was not used to being manhandled. I did the manhandling, when the perp deserved it, which was usual. “Put me down.”
“You’re taking too long,” he barked. His warm breath sent shivers along my neck.
He was skimming the wall too—hopefully not drunk enough to drop me.
“So…?” I peered over his shoulder to get a nice view of his ass. It was tight and bouncy.
“So, you’re taking too long.” This time I met his fiery gaze. His yellow eyes were fierce, promising that this night would be so good that he’d ruin me for all men.
“You’re right,” I nodded. “You can carry me.” He hadn’t asked for my permission, but it was important that I give it, no matter how drunk I was. “Last room down the hall, on the right.”
Grunting, he moved, jostling me while I draped my arms around his neck, unbothered that I was the stereotypical damsel in distress. Good thing I was slammed, or I’d probably have kicked him in the nuts by now.
I had far better plans for his manly bits.
My crop top rode up with his movements, the flesh of his arms touching my waist. A wave of heat rushed across me, making me flush.
The wolf noticed. Another grunt rumbled within his chest, and he picked up the pace, stalking down the hall in long, sexy-ass strides.
“This room?” he asked, pointing to the door.
“Un-huh.” I was incapable of speech, and it wasn’t the alcohol or the grief—at least not entirely. Something about this wolf made me burn, hot as a mother. If I were in the mood to be honest with myself, which I wasn’t, everything about the wolf was turning me on right now.
I’d never been a prude, but damn... this was something new. I was about to mark my first one-night stand in the books. Everyone needed to have one at some point in their life, right? Why not with a werewolf?
He struggled with my key for a second and then we were inside. Moonlight streamed through the open window, to reveal the molten fire in his eyes. In one swift move, he tossed me on the bed, and I growled. Strong men had always turned me on, and this one was hot as fuck.
I stared up at him while he settled his body over mine. Biceps bulged as his face swam into view above me.
My nostrils flared at the scent of him, and half a second later his lips claimed mine. Holy mother of pearl. His lips were wide and soft, and though everything about him screamed he was a man in charge, his kisses were tender at first.
But the moment my hips writhed beneath his, aiming to line my center up with his hardness, his kisses became insistent. My lips parted for him as he parted my legs, and I didn’t resist.
I wrapped my legs, boots and all, around his waist.
A moan escaped him as our tongues entwined, and holy hell this was just what I needed. Only a drunk Evie would let her guard down enough to get properly laid. My eyes fell closed for a beat, lost to the overpowering sensation of his warm, slick tongue against mine, but I immediately missed the amber burn of his stare, so I opened them again. I didn’t want to miss a second of this. Even though we were piss-ass drunk, I hoped I’d remember every glorious moment.
My palms dragged across his strong back, stroking it and running over lines of hard muscle, feeling a few scars there through his shirt. His kisses became more insistent; I tasted the beast inside him. When he groaned, I ran my hands through the lengths of his dark hair, and he snapped his head back. Instantly, I missed him, and pulled at him to come closer to my face.
He stared at me, unflinching for several beats, until I stopped moving. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes blazed like they’d burst into flame.
“After this, I won’t be able to stop myself.” His voice was gruff, and I understood all he hadn’t said.
Werewolves were half beast, half man.
I’d tangled with enough of them to know that once the wild side of them was engaged, they’d struggle to return to the man. Someone as strong as this guy would struggle less than weaker ones, but he’d still have to fight the beast part of him to regain control.
I breathed in deeply and a shiver ran through my body, pulsing at my slick core. “Trust me, I don’t want you to stop.” All I was afraid of was that I might never want him to stop; I didn’t do the whole “boyfriend” thing. My life was fucked up enough as it was, without complicating it further.
“You’re drunk,” he stated, breathing in raggedly, trying to control himself.
“So are you,” I shot back at him.
“I’m drunk on you.”
Oh. My. Fucking. Stars. I stared him straight in the eyes, enunciating every damn word. “I. Want. To. Have. Sex.” I smiled like a choir girl. “Now, please.” I batted my eyelashes for good measure. What universe was I living in that I had to beg this guy to have sex with me?
His eyes flared like molten stars, and with one hand he yanked off his t-shirt.
Oh yes, come to mama.
My mouth dropped open and I didn’t give a damn that I might be drooling. Hungrily, my gaze ran down his chiseled chest and tight abs. My attention caught on the sprinkling of dark hair that trailed down his stomach to the gold mine.
He smirked when he caught me staring. Cocky bastard. But I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend. I was looking for a good time, one that’d make me forget everything I wanted, and right now, that was a whole hell of a lot. He was going to be my savior, even if only for one night.