Somana Two: Michael
Copyright © February 2010, Brenda Steele
Cover art by Brenda Steele © February 2010
Amira Press
Baltimore, MD 21216
www.amirapress.com
ISBN: 978-1-936279-00-5
No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and e-mail, without prior written permission from Amira Press.
Chapter One
Michael ignored the buzz from his holo-phone in his pocket. He didn’t have to look to know it was Willie calling to check up on him—again. Just because he didn’t live in her pocket like all her other employees or jump to her commands, she had to bust his balls at every opportunity, call him until he was forced to turn his phone off. Like he did now.
He had been a fool to take a phone from her in the first place. The last twenty-plus years of his life had been spent on Earth, in a werewolf reservation managed by the agency. He had run free—or as free as they could in the reservation—and answered to no one. He hadn’t wanted much out of life then. A warm, feminine body under him, food, a good hunt, that was all. Now, on the moon, living inside a space station that was fast becoming overcrowded, he wanted more.
Another holo-phone buzzed, and his brother Gabriel pressed a button to answer. An image of Willie projected up from the small contraption. “Willie,” Gabriel grumbled, “let me guess. You’re looking for my brother.”
Not bothering to hide himself from her view or hearing, Michael called out, “Tell her I’m not here.”
He turned his attention from Gabriel back to his brother’s mate. From across the room where she worked her magic, by creating potions for her customers, Kelly’s scent filled his nostrils. Her full breasts enticed him. In his fevered state, he remembered, before Gabriel had restored his mind, he had kissed her. She had tasted incredible then, but now she had changed. She was a werewolf, and not just any wolf, an alpha female.
An alpha female’s scent could draw horny males from miles away, and without a doubt, Michael was one horny man. He had approached Gabriel about sharing her, if only for a single night, and the man had almost taken his head off. But Michael hadn’t given up. This was their way. They shared lovers, most having two or three at a time. Gabriel might not have been brought up on the reservation, but their way was written in his DNA. He would come to his senses, or Michael would force him to.
Unable to resist a second longer, he took a step in Kelly’s direction to have his vision of her blocked. He refocused to find his brother had stepped in front of him. “Don’t make me kill you, Michael,” Gabriel growled.
Michael bared his teeth, each one sharp like a blade that would rip his prey apart within heartbeats. His voice when he spoke was harsh and ragged. “Don’t deny me what I have a right to have.”
Gabriel’s eyes turned almost black. “A right? To my mate? I must not have healed your mind as much as I thought, or the moon is still addling your wits. You have no rights here, and if you don’t stop hunting my wife, I will forbid you to step foot in her shop again.”
“Forbid me?” Michael shouted. He brought himself to his full height, still nose to nose with Gabriel, and gave in a little more to his transformation. “She’s alpha. It’s her duty to—”
Gabriel drove his fist into Michael’s jaw, and Michael hit the wall behind him hard enough to put a hole in it at his elbow. Knowing his jaw was out of alignment, he worked it and spit out a mouthful of blood. Soon enough, he would heal.
Kelly interrupted. “Stop it. You two are family. You shouldn’t be acting this way.” Hanging from Gabriel’s arm, she looked from one to the other of them.
Michael gritted his teeth at how her breasts pressed into his brother’s arm. The low V-neckline showing off her cleavage drove him insane. Damn it, this moon was too much. Every minute of the day and night, he felt himself driven, the base instincts of the beast fighting for dominance inside him.
Michael reached out a hand toward Kelly’s plump breasts, but before her husband could react, she changed, her canines lengthening and a growl rolling up from her throat. She moved around her husband while snarling at Michael, her eyes slits and menace clear in her stance. “If you lay one finger on me, you will live to regret it.”
Kelly went beyond any werewolf he had ever known, male or female. She married magic and the beast in the most deadly of combinations. While Michael stared at her, judging her intent to attack, he sensed something pressing into his mind, similar to what Gabriel had done to reach him. But this was different. Strange images zipped through his head at lightning speed. He hit the floor, holding his head with one hand and bracing much of his weight with the other. The pain was almost too much to bear.
“Damn it,” he muttered, the agony so great he couldn’t push more than those two words past his lips.
“Honey, stop,” Gabriel commanded her. She must not have heard him, because with his eyes closed, Michael heard the jangling of her hanging earrings as his brother shook her. “Kelly!”
“What?” she said.
The pain eased. Dazed and weak, Michael used the wall shelf to help himself up, and he stumbled toward the exit. Gabriel called to him before he could get through the door. He paused without turning and hated the embarrassment coursing through him at letting a woman—even an alpha—get the best of him. “What?”
“Don’t come back until you’re ready to respect me and my mate. And . . .” His brother moved up behind him. The hairs on the back of Michael’s neck rose on end. “Whatever you have going with Willie, end it. Working for her is one thing. Spreading her legs is another.”
Michael whirled around. How did Gabriel know about that? “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Besides, you don’t dictate my life. If I was to fuck Willie, that’s none of your business.”
“You’re a fool. Once she gets her claws in you, you won’t have a say in your own life. Might be too late from the amount of times she calls me in a day looking for you.”
Michael dared a glance in Kelly’s direction and then refocused on Gabriel. He flashed his brother a cocky grin. “Maybe you’re jealous, want her for yourself. See, that’s what you get when you bite a woman and make her your mate. It narrows your choices, cuts your fun.”
Gabriel jerked the door open and rested a hand in the center of Michael’s chest. He gave a mighty shove that sent Michael head over heels into the dirty street. The door slammed in his face when he looked up. With a sigh, he rolled to a sitting position and ran his hand through his hair. Yeah, he definitely needed to make some changes, or do like Gabriel suggested—stay the hell out of the area.
Then again, that would be hard on Somana Two. The station wasn’t but so big, and even if he was at one end and Kelly at the other, he’d still pick up her scent with a million people in between them. He stood up and staggered down the crowded street, not bothering to utter an excuse me when he bumped others. Flared nostrils, narrowed eyes, and, when necessary, a growl, kept them from making an issue of it.
After walking around for a few hours, he came to Willie’s house. The place was as close to a mansion as anything on Somana Two could get. He paused at the wall, which he knew hid a small courtyard to rival any on Earth. Sexual desire raged in him, and he knew that if he approached Willie, she’d invite him into her bed, but over the last few months, he had grown tired of sleeping with her, if that could be possible for someone like him. No matter how many times they were together, his cravings were not assuaged. Moments afterward, when he had worn her out, he had to stand in a cold shower.
If he had any sense, he would leave the moon. At least on Earth,
the agency had provided an endless stream of prostitutes. There, he had a big appetite for sex, but it was not like this. Still undecided, he glanced up at the clock reflected on the dome and noted that it was two in the morning. The crowds at some point had thinned to one person here and there, but Michael knew on the seedier side of Somana Two. Often, people didn’t go to bed until five in the morning or later. There, he should find a little more excitement, and although Somana Two didn’t officially have prostitutes, he’d heard there were women who were willing to have the kind of fun he was looking for if a man bought her a drink. Not knowing why he hadn’t considered it sooner, Michael turned from Willie’s house just as his holo-phone buzzed, and he headed for the south side of the space station.
* * * *
As he had heard, this side of town was still wall-to-wall people. Cars zoomed up and down the roads, loud music spilled from a few bars and clubs, and even a movie theater was still open, showing an ancient film he had seen once called An American Werewolf in Paris. He smirked as he remembered the way werewolves were portrayed in it. Should have consulted one of his ancestors, he thought. With a few such alterations from his kind, the film would have screams coming from the theater for weeks.
When he rounded a corner, he stumbled and fell toward the ground. If he hadn’t put a hand out, he would have been face-first for the second time tonight. This time, it wasn’t from a shove, but a scent that had his head spinning one second and his pulse pounding the next. His mouth watered. Fierce, uncontrollable need rocked him to the core, all from the unmistakable smell of a woman. Not just any woman, he thought as he fought his way to his feet and resisted the urge to change into a wolf in order to hunt her. This woman was special, someone he had to see, someone he needed to possess.
Barreling around a final corner, he at last came upon her, thick blonde hair down to her waist, a tiny figure, with an ass he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. She was leaning into the window of an aircar, her arms crossed and an earnest look on her face. She wouldn’t win over a client with that attitude, he thought. But then he dropped his gaze down over her body. She wore black leather pants that hugged her sexy legs like a second skin.
He willed her to straighten and, as if she had heard his silent plea, she nodded to the guy in the aircar and stood up to point out something on the horizon. When she did, Michael groaned at the sight before him. Her breasts strained against the white T-shirt she wore, the black jacket accompanying it unzipped to her waist. Michael would have preferred something with a V-neck so he could enjoy a little cleavage, but his beauty was built to lasso a man with no more than a hint of what was beneath her clothes. He was hooked.
While the target of his desire bent toward the man in the aircar again, Michael moved up behind her and let her feel his cock rock solid against her ass. He braced a hand on either side of her on the hood of the aircar and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Forget him. I’ll give you whatever you want to spend the rest of the night in my bed.”
She tried to twist around to face him, but Michael hadn’t given her enough room. He moved back a half-step to let her turn, and then he pushed one thigh between hers and pinned her to the side of the aircar. He didn’t give a fig what the other guy thought.
His beauty rested her palms on his chest and smiled up at him, blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “So, let me get this straight,” she purred, which made desire ripple through him. “You’re offering me—”
“A night of sexual pleasure at whatever price you set,” he finished and pressed tighter against her. He didn’t miss the catch in her breath as their bodies sealed together.
“Because you think I’m a . . .” She blinked in seeming disbelief. “You arrogant piece of trash,” she roared. “You actually think I’m out here selling my body, and to Joey no less.”
He frowned. “Joey?”
She crooked a thumb over her shoulder at the man in the aircar. “Joey.” Her mesmerizing eyes narrowed. “Now that you know you’re mistaken, you can get off me before I feed you your balls.”
Joey snickered from the safety of the vehicle. “I’d move, guy. She’s been known to castrate a man. Just a warning.”
Michael picked up on the fire in her eyes as she gazed at him, but he knew that fire wasn’t all for the fact that he had misjudged who and what she was. From the moment he slipped his leg between hers, his mystery woman was on fire for sex. Her natural scent was heady, no doubt, but with the proximity of their bodies, it had changed, deepened to something almost as wild as wolf packs back on Earth. The aroma filled his nostrils, making his head reel all over again. This was too good, too addictive. And addicted he was—with one inhale.
Chapter Two
Chrissie could not believe the nerve of this asshole. He thought he could grab her, rub against her, and there would be no consequences? So she liked to dress sexy, on or off the job, so what? Did that give him a license to touch her? Hell, no! She should have already tied his dick in a knot or head-butted him in the chin, which she was likely to do. As Joey had said, she’d do whatever it took to put a man in his place. She had already delayed too long because the truth of the matter was, what she wanted to do and what she should do were two different things. She wanted to get her hands on his piece all right, but more so to feel whether it was as thick and long as it seemed to be pressed on her leg.
She longed to take his hand and guide it between her thighs to make him stroke her kitty, which had been neglected far too long because none of the men on Somana Two had what she was looking for. None of the ones she had met in the bars, that is. This man, who had to be six five at least, with shoulders wide enough to block out the dome clock, and cold, black hair hanging too long and tussled about his handsome face, was one she hadn’t seen before. She would have remembered this one—and have sampled him by now if she had met him.
She repeated her threat and added, “You have three seconds.”
He grinned down at her and flashed even white teeth, which put her in mind more of a dangerous predator than a loser looking for a good time. “That’s plenty,” he said, and then lowered his mouth to hers.
Chrissie gasped, but that gave him entrance between her lips. His tongue darted out and filled her mouth. Its thick, wet warmth had shivers tingling along her skin. He tugged her closer with his hands on her waist and pushed his tongue in and out of her mouth before running it along her bottom lip.
She told herself to turn her head, to crush his nuts, to do anything, but instead she gave as much as she got, forgetting everything around her in order to taste this man, to be consumed by him. She almost forgot herself enough to moan, but she bit it off and then, jerking away, swiped a hand over her lips.
A crack across his cheek left his face red and her palm stinging, but she didn’t regret it. “Pig,” she growled.
Proud of himself, he grinned but didn’t release her. She raised her hand again, but this time, he caught her wrist and twisted it behind her. He would have zoomed in for another kiss, but Chrissie put up a knee to catch him in the balls. With lightning reflexes, he captured her leg between his and dragged her tighter to his firm form. Her body, to her utter disgust, sparked with lust.
“Let me go,” she demanded. “You’ll be very sorry if you don’t back off right now.”
“Funny”—he snickered—“I don’t feel sorry in the least. You, however, feel amazing. Those breasts are just what a man likes under him, along with the rest of you. And I do appreciate the view, let me tell you.”
Chrissie knew her face flared as bright as his did when she hit him. The bastard stared at the imprint her breasts against her shirt. “Pervert,” she shouted.
Something flashed at the corner of her eye, and having seen it time and again, Chrissie identified it in seconds. Another of her partners had drawn his knife and was about to attack the man holding her hostage with his sexy body. She opened her mouth to warn him, for some reason not wanting to see the guy hurt, but before she could say a word, his eyes
flashed an odd color, and then he released her to whirl around.
Riley was a big man in his own right, above six feet and at least two fifty, but he came up off the ground with one of her attacker’s hands around his neck. Her partner in crime flailed about, swinging his knife and missing each time.
“Son of a bitch, put me down,” Riley demanded.
“Drop it,” the stranger commanded in a deeper voice than the one he had spoken in earlier. Chrissie shivered and hoped no one noticed.
She pulled herself together and stood up to the beast of a man. “Put him down. You’ve had your fun. Now move on.” He had the nerve to ignore her, which pissed her off even more. “Did you hear me?”
After a long time, when they all seemed to be holding their breath, the stranger lowered Riley to his feet. Trying to get a bit of his own back, she supposed, Riley took a swipe at the man when he was free. The stranger sidestepped the attack and did a move too fast for Chrissie to follow. The clink of the knife hitting the ground confirmed Riley’s complete humiliation. He sank to one knee and rubbed his wrist, breathing hard.
When the man swung back to her, she prepared herself for more trouble, but he flashed his now-familiar smile. “Your name?”
She rolled her eyes. “Excuse me?”
“I need a name to give to my dream girl.”
She spun away, intent on dismissing him. “Yeah, only in your dreams, beast boy.”
He chuckled and uttered low enough so that she just caught his words, “If you only knew.”
“What was that?” She should forget that he existed and go about the business she had been trying to arrange for a few days from now. This man didn’t warrant getting her off her schedule. If there was anything Chrissie Malvoy was known for, it was sticking to the plan. Hell, she’d force a plan through and complete it on time no matter what the obstacle. That’s why she got the better jobs in her profession.
Werewolf on Somana Two: Michael Page 1