Claire's Bad Boy (Date Monsters For Bad Boys Book 1)

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Claire's Bad Boy (Date Monsters For Bad Boys Book 1) Page 2

by Lisa Daniels


  “It’s always good to get a couple of drinks down your hole first,” he said, watching with narrowed eyes as she tackled hers. Something bitter, that made her want to cough it all out. Her eyes watered as she gulped it. “Makes whatever’s to come easier.”

  “Y-yeah?” Claire tried to act casual. She really tried. But her face betrayed her. Heat blazed through it, burning so intensely that she felt like a furnace. Again, the doubts assaulted her. Did she even want a one-night stand? Some fling with a bad boy, a wham, bam, thank you ma’am, and suddenly, she was wild?

  He examined her, his nostrils flared slightly as if he could scent weakness. Attempting to abolish all thoughts from her head, she smiled at him and drank more of the foul liquid he’d brought.

  The alcohol had better work.

  Chapter Two – Kallen

  Where was the fire in this woman? He nudged at her, made some small talk, though he preferred avoiding it in most cases. But the one thing he noticed was that she was nothing like the woman depicted in her profile. This wasn’t a woman out to have a good time, tasting a wolf shifter for the first time in her life.

  Oh no. This was a woman who had no idea what it was to be wild. Doubtless one of her friends wrote the profile for her, prodding her toward doing something. He wondered mildly how far she’d be willing to go before she slammed the gates down. How far she wanted him to go.

  After all, he was being paid for the pleasure. He smiled at her, noting the physical parts. Nice breasts. Cracking thighs right there. Wasn’t really one for blondes, but he appreciated the minimal amount of makeup on her. She wasn’t hiding anything, then. He knew nothing of her except the features, since the words she wrote were clearly lies.

  “You remember those messages you sent to me?” he said as she gamely gulped down another sip of the white rum he’d given her. Another mistake right there—you needed to take your time with Malibu white rum. Not unless you wanted to crash all at once. Though a part of him wanted to let her keep making this big mistake, he knew that it would probably be better if she were somewhat cognizant and less likely to vomit before the night ended.

  “Yeah. Course,” she said, grimacing from the rum.

  “You don’t really seem anything like those messages. Oh, by the way, you shouldn’t drink the rum like that. Sip it. Take your time. It’ll hit you like a truck otherwise.”

  She flushed red. “I’m fine. Drank loads of this before. I always go out… drinking things. I can be fun.”

  “Sure,” he said, now amused. “Which one of your friends put you up to this?”

  He watched as she inflated in apparent indignation, before all the air left her. “Rita did,” she admitted. “She said I needed to embrace my wild side. But, uh—never mind that. What about you? What do you do in your spare time, other than these jobs, I mean?”

  “More jobs. Go out with friends. Family things.”

  “Family things,” she said, ignoring Kallen’s previous advice and gulping more of the drink like a damn seagull. “Like… wolf things?”

  “Yeah. I guess.” He swirled his own drink around, barely touching it. “You want to see me transform?”

  She nodded violently. He closed his eyes. Some wolf clans out there thought it a travesty to reveal their sacred form to a human; others were afraid of being shot by some overzealous hunter. Humans, though similar in a lot of ways, didn’t understand what it was like to be wolf. To be a part of a pack, to feel the wilderness in their veins, and the rush of a successful hunt.

  They also didn’t understand what it felt like to be excommunicated from that network. Lucky things, really, humans. Such simple lives. He envied them.

  “You’ve never seen anyone transform before?”

  She shook her head in response.

  “Surprising. You live right next to several prominent clans in the area. The mountains and forests probably have dozens of them.”

  “They’re… private,” she replied. “And not too fond of humans, either. We’ve lost people in the past who’ve trespassed on their lands.”

  Ah. Those types. “Unfortunate. Well, not all shifters are like them.” He smiled at her brightly, checking the bartender, who was doing something on her phone, eyes glazed from the rest of the world. Then, he summoned the wolf within, letting it take over and burst from his body. Colors shifted. Clothes melted into fur, and his face stretched, feeling pinched and uncomfortable for a second. Loping on all fours, his new eyes regarded an astonished Claire, who had brought her hand up to her mouth, and the bartender, who had glanced up from her phone and now stared with frozen horror at his form.

  Instantly, the alpha within clashed with his human instincts. It was more brutal, primal than the human form, which could moderate some sort of control. Out of all that, however, came the urges. The desire to prowl around the room and sniff. Mark his territory. Check for potential invaders, and do something about the lone female in front of him. Access if she belonged to someone, if she smelled just right…

  He padded closer, opening up all his olfactory senses. She gasped softly, but he kept his jaws firmly closed, movements careful. Humans spooked. They didn’t know how to read the signs well, so he had to think in terms of being a human, though it felt alien to his form. Alien to compromise.

  The musk of her being entered his nostrils. Scents changed in this form, too. Nothing smelled bad. All added different notes and texture to the air. A light layer of perfume on her skin, a strong pooling scent from between her legs, offering a deeper insight into her identity. He made no questing movements, letting her examine him, pace around his dark-furred body, and brush soft hands against the folds around his neck. He rumbled softly as her hand trailed down toward his tail. He didn’t like being touched on the tail. His head reached up to her own. Werewolves were enormous—far bigger than their pure animal kin.

  “Amazing,” she whispered, and something in the tone of her voice made his ears prick up. “My lord, you’re a big beastie. Could probably swallow me up in one bite.”

  He was tempted to bare his teeth then, but kept himself perfectly still, until she stepped away from him at last, settling back into her chair. He noticed how the female bartender kept staring, goggling at him, elbows practically glued to the counter. Clearly, Claire wasn’t the only human here never to have experienced a real live, non-biting werewolf.

  Morphing back into his human form, he felt the immediate loss of those beautiful, enhanced senses, as everything faded back to the dulled, limited scents of the nose. Though the eyes were better, his thinking was better, the inner alpha stirred within, lightly pressing at his skin, wanting more freedom.

  Not today. “I’m bigger than a lot of werewolves,” he told her. “My clan...” He hesitated. They weren’t his clan anymore. But he still thought, somewhere, of his identity tying with them. “They are naturally big wolves. Other clans liked to arrange marriages with us because they wanted their children to grow big, too.”

  “Does it hurt?” Claire asked in a hushed voice. “To transform? I mean, there’s different organs, bone structure, and you grow a tail…”

  “It doesn’t hurt,” he said. “It’s strange, discomfiting, sure. But it’s just like… putting on a coat. It’s me.”

  She cradled her tankard as if it were a shield, though he noted there was nothing left in it. “Are your thoughts the same? Do you feel like a human, thinking, or, um—not?” She winced at her own wording, and he sat back down opposite her, now leaning across the table, hands close to her side.

  “They change. The longer I am in the form, the more the wolf dominates. Though my wolf is always there. Always pushing.” He unleashed his smirk, the one he knew tended to get a positive reaction from women. “If you commit to this contract, I’ll do things to you no human man could ever satisfy you with.” His voice lowered to a growl as he stared into her dark blue eyes. “That I can promise.”

  The woman shivered slightly, and he sensed the longing in her eyes, her face. As if she yearned
to experience just that. “What do you mean, if I commit?”

  “I can tell you’re hesitant.” He tapped the table with all his fingers, drawing her attention to them. A lock of her hair fell down, obscuring one eye. “Perhaps you lack experience.”

  Her mouth set into a stubborn line. “That’s precisely why I hired you,” she said. “You’re to give me what I lack.”

  He grinned, choosing not to point out the innuendo in her words, and stood up. “Come, then. I have a hotel room already booked.”

  The fury in her eyes died out, and she became timid again. Would she follow? Would she plow ahead with pride, or wilt to the floor? A jolt of excitement entered his body when she got up, pushing the drink aside. “Take me there. I better tell my friends first what’s happening, though. They want to make sure everything turns out alright.”

  * * *

  For all her bravado, she walked like a woman consigning herself to the pyre. One thousand dollars of payment for just one night. Though he was registered on the site as an evening companion, no one was fooled by the real meaning. Evening companion to dozens of women. Smelling them, taking them, breaking down all their barriers. They liked wild, rough, and dirty. That was the role they wanted.

  Claire had asked for this, too. Maybe she hadn’t been the one to write to him, but she let it happen. She transferred the money from her account. She allowed her friends to leave, and she followed him into the dark streets when he asked.

  All of that should mean a willing participant, if a little shy.

  So the moment they entered his hotel room and closed the door behind her, he drew in close and pushed her against the dark green wall. He nuzzled past her long hair to whisper in her ear, “The fun starts now.”

  A breathy groan left her, and her skin rippled under the light touch of his lips. With his hands braced on either side of her, he worked his mouth along to her cheek, to her lips, and though she was hesitant at first, she soon found herself swept up. He liked her soft lips, appreciated her smell—and with the body she had, it should be a feast for his eyes. Fun. His heart rate increased at the prospect of conquest, his inner alpha growled in delight, and he pushed further. What touches would make her groan and whimper for more? How could he play this body until it sang? He felt himself hardening, growing eager, almost dizzy with desire, and she pushed against him too, losing herself for a moment.

  “You’re hot when you moan like that,” he whispered in response to a throaty sound escaping her lips. “I can’t wait to take you.” His tongue pressed out, sliding along one section of her neck. He blew hot air there, and she shuddered.

  Her eyelids fluttered open, and the haze covering her face evaporated in the blink of an eye when his hands brushed the bottom of her shirt. “No,” she said. Her palms shot onto his and pried his fingers away. “No, I can’t do this.”

  He blinked, letting her fumble past him, though annoyance bubbled within. The growing erection he sported bled to nothing. What had he done wrong? She seemed to be into it. She reacted the right way. He knew how to do these things. “What’s up?” He detected irritation in his tone, so he took a deep breath before saying, “Do you want to stop?”

  She sat on the bed with a dazed, slightly horrified expression. “I can’t do this. It’s not me. I’m not—I don’t—it’s too much.” She glanced down between his legs, went as red as a beetroot, and looked away again. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re the one paying,” he said, sounding nonchalant, though a part of him felt furious she’d wriggled out of his charms. His inner alpha did not like anyone getting away. “Though… are you a virgin?”

  Claire’s blue eyes went wide. “You… I—”

  He shrugged, palms turned upward in a soft gesture. “It’s an honest question. If you’re not used to doing something like this, I get it.”

  “I’m not a… a virgin,” she said, though it seemed to take a great deal of effort to wheeze the words. “I’ve had sex before. But this is too much. Too fast. I’m not—” She wrung her hands in apparent internal agony, before blurting, “This just isn’t me. I don’t do this. I work ten hours a day, go home, relax, sleep. I didn’t do all that partying all my friends did, I didn’t sleep with the entire town like Rita did. I don’t know how to do this.”

  Kallen’s annoyance finally vanished, now that he understood. “You were the boring kid in school?”

  “I wouldn’t say boring,” she said, hurt at the words. “I worked hard. I made something of myself.”

  “How many countries have you visited? How many partners have you had?”

  She began to stutter something, then went to a standstill. “I’ve not really… visited any countries. And, partners, I—” her voice dipped to a shamed mumble. “Two.”

  Jesus Christ, he thought. This woman had no color in her life. “You go to the city at least?”

  “Mmm.” She looked at the floor.

  He tried to imagine it. He really did. Someone like his grandfather, who had never left their clan lands. Who didn’t ask questions, who had no comprehension whatsoever of the world beyond, aside from watered-down reports people said, and pictures. He crusted. He’d done the family thing, but had no concept of joy.

  This woman sounded like his grandfather. A person he detested more than anything. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  She said nothing, but if shame could manifest a physical form, it might have done so over her.

  He stood there, chewing on his thoughts. He didn’t know enough. He was assuming. She had paid for this. Surely that meant a bigger desire than his grandfather and mother to do something. He didn’t know her, but of what he had seen, she did intrigue him. He had seen the desire behind her eyes. Those brief flashes of steel. A hint of someone struggling to break out of their shell. “What do you want to be?”

  “Not this,” she whispered. “I’ve not lived at all. I don’t know how to.”

  Those vulnerable words stayed with him, giving shape to his thoughts. “I have an idea. You want to become more confident, I suppose. Experience things you’ve missed out on. That about right?”

  “Yeah.”

  He began to pace from side to side in front of her. His shoes scraped the cheap, wooden boarding beneath. “Well, maybe I can help with that. I’d need more than a thousand, though. I could take you out, get you used to a different way of life. I’d take you to other places. Whatever.”

  The idea he proposed to her was actually one he’d been thinking of for some time, but he intended it originally to be service toward other men. Teaching them to charm a woman. A guaranteed formula to get someone in bed in the space of one evening. Teaching the introverted guys to become alphas. It would add an additional layer of revenue to his agency services. So many men lacking confidence, they’d jump at a chance like this.

  Why not teach a woman, then? Teach her what guys wanted. Teach her to live. He became excited again, the words boiling in his mind in a frenzy of ideas, new connections. “I could show you what men want from you. Make you the life and soul of a party. Why not, right?”

  During his speech and rapid pacing, she’d lifted her eyes from the ground to stare at him with a kind of puzzled wonder. He felt a little like a mad genius, consumed by the beauty of his own creation. His own mind blazed. “You’d do that?”

  At this, he screeched to a mental halt, though his body still buzzed with adrenaline. Did he want to do that? Drag this human woman along with him and teach her the secrets of a better life?

  Did he even know the secrets?

  “Sure,” he said, smothering it all over with confidence. Confidence went a long way. Even if he doubted inside. Especially if he doubted inside. “That is, if you want something like that.”

  “Honestly, I’m surprised you even suggested it,” she said, though she smiled as she spoke, and it was a little like the sun coming up. Curious.

  “It’s something I’ve been considering a while. You seemed like you might be a good opportunity to test it w
ith. Unless you want things to remain the same?”

  “No. God, no,” she said. One hand crept to her chest, and his eyes lingered upon it. “The trouble is, I don’t really know what I want. I just… I feel like there’s something missing. Like I’ve let life just pass me by.”

  He nodded, coldness blossoming within. Yes. He knew something about that. To the point where it made him uncomfortable to consider. “I can help.” He carefully sat down next to her. A part of him longed to turn the tables around, to get her back to fifteen minutes ago, when she was moaning in his ear and clawing at his clothes. The other part was far, far too excited by the notion of executing a new plan. Why, if he could expand his business to men and women… then he’d be sorted. No need to worry about life. No need to think about what he’d left behind. Been cut from.

  No need at all.

  Claire took a deep breath, as if about to jump off the deep end. In a way, she was. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

  Excellent, Kallen thought. An eager grin spread over his lips. He felt more animated, more excited than he’d felt for years.

  And all it took was a woman.

  Chapter Three – Claire

  Training, to be more confident. Not exactly what Claire expected when she hired her one-night stand. She was supposed to get seduced by the bad boy, have some feverish night of passion, then probably get back to her normal life. Unless she liked the thrill so much that she ended up booking more opportunities instead.

  She lay now in her bed, having returned from the hotel, and stared at the white, cracked ceiling in a slight morning daze. What just happened? went frequently through her mind. Because she struggled to wrap her head completely around it. She thought about his dark gray wolf form. He’d been so intimidating. All the things she never imagined having in a male partner. With those dark eyes, he’d captivated her more than expected. His presence was stifling, somehow, as if demanding people to look at him. He could’ve ordered her to do anything, and with a shiver, Claire knew she would have complied. The fact that he didn’t spoke volumes.

 

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