by Lia Connor
Chantal swallowed. Looked like she’d found her boys. Now the question was, how did she approach them?
Balls to the wall, it looked like. As she drew closer, she saw the flickering light of a bonfire, and, surrounding it, two men and half a dozen wolves -- yes, definitely wolves -- running in circles and weaving their way through the parked, beat-up dirt bikes that lined their stretch of beach.
Rubbing his hand along one of the wolves’ head, the taller male looked up and saw Chantal coasting to a stop on a hill just above their sandy valley. He stared at her for a long minute, then laughed, the sound ringing out loud and clear.
“Look what’s come to dinner,” he said as Chantal killed her engine. She took out the keys and dropped them into her cutoff pocket. “I know you.”
“I bet you do.” Chantal was proud to hear her voice not shaking one little bit. She swung her leg off the dirt bike and set both feet in the sand, still quivering from the ache in her pussy that she’d developed during her ride. God, she needed to be fucked, and she needed it now. “You were the one who bit me, weren’t you?”
The man let out a howl of laughter and shoved one of his wolves aside with a boot. “I knew I recognized you.”
“Why? Why did you do it?”
His face reflected up at her, all pale blond hair swept back in a messy ponytail and crystal blue eyes. “Come and find out,” he challenged.
Chantal never backed down from a dare. It had gotten her into more trouble than she could count, and she had a feeling that this time wouldn’t be any different, but the urge to counter-challenge was strong in her blood, and she found herself picking her way down the hill toward the man and his bikes, his wolves, his fire --
Only to find her way blocked by a second man, just as tall and broad, his chest muscles gleaming with sweat from the fire and exertion. He was dark as his friend was light, his long black hair swinging loose around his face. Black eyes, the irises wider than they ought to be, pinned her in place. “You don’t get to him without going through me.”
Chantal’s hands balled into fists. Her determination to reach the blond man shifted into an obsession. She had to reach him. “Out of my way,” she said, her voice coming out as a snarl.
“I said, not unless you go through me.” The man reached out to touch Chantal, running a strand of her curling dark hair through his fingers. “You are a pretty one, aren’t you? Tough as nails, too. Are you bad enough to take me on?”
“Try me and find out,” Chantal dared.
“How about I taste you instead?” His fingers tightened in her hair, pulling painfully. Chantal snapped at him, her teeth clacking together. “You’re just a cub,” he snorted. “But you look so pretty, all dark as coffee, and you smell so sweet.” He took a deep breath. Chantal felt her cheeks heat up, realizing he was scenting the air for the smell of her pussy. She felt herself getting wetter as she looked at this big man, so solid from head to foot, bare except for a pair of shorts.
“Try me,” Chantal challenged, her breath short. “Do you have the balls?”
The man’s other hand shot forward to grab her own, pressing it hard against his crotch. She felt the stiff length of his cock jump beneath her touch, and her juices started to flow again. “I’ve got more than balls,” he informed her. His voice grew thicker, a Latino accent infiltrating his speech. “Still want to take me on?”
“Turn that question around.” Chantal leaned into the man, pressing her breasts up against his slick chest. “I’m more than enough for you.” God, where was she getting this courage? But did it matter?
“Juarez!” The blond man’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “Let her go.”
“But she --”
“I said let her go.” A pale hand landed on Juarez’s shoulder and jerked him back. The blond man took his place, staring Chantal down from a height advantage of at least six inches, and she was no short woman. “So. You want to be one of us, do you?”
Chantal crossed her arms beneath her breasts and met the blond man eye to eye. “I want what you have.”
“What? Fire, music… meat?”
He stepped back, letting her get a good view of the flames. A roasting spit had been cobbled together and a thick hunk of something animal hung over the middle, sizzling and spitting out drops of fat. The water came to Chantal’s mouth, and she had to lick her lips.
“You don’t just want what we have,” the man decided. “You’re starving for it.” He backed away a few steps, the wolves gathering at his feet. He reached down to pet one as if it were a dog, laughing when it snapped at his hand. “So you think you’re tough enough. Well, come on, then. Let’s see if you have the nerve to be part of the Lobos.”
Chantal kept one eye on the meat and one eye on the man. She could feel Juarez behind her like a solid wall that would keep her from turning to run, even if she’d had the slightest inclination to do so. “You’re the Alpha,” she said. “Your game, your rules.”
The man chuckled. “So you’ve done your homework. Good for you.”
“How else was I supposed to understand what was going on? And you still haven’t answered my question.” Chantal stepped forward until she and the man were close again. “Why -- did -- you -- bite me?”
His eyes flickered with a silver-blue fire. “Because it was fun.”
Chantal launched herself at the man, taking him down to the ground as much out of surprise as anything else. He howled with laughter as they wrestled, pinning her to the sand within seconds, her arms above her head and her body weighed down by his own.
“Fun?” she spat. “You take my whole life and turn it upside down, and you call that fun? Damn you!”
“You don’t want to damn me.” The man shifted so that one of his hands was holding both of hers down, and drew his fingers across her cheek. “So dark, so pretty,” he said, voice low. “You want to fuck me. Don’t you?” He rocked his pelvis into hers, letting her feel how hard he was. “And you want more than that. You want a place in the gang. Not just any place, though. It’s the full moon, and you’re walking on two legs instead of four. You have the power to be an Alpha.” He tilted his head. “Or did your books not tell you about that part?”
Chantal wrestled against him. “I’ve never changed into a wolf, but I still know what I am. And yes, I do want to be your Alpha.”
The man’s face darkened. “I don’t have an Alpha. I am the Alpha, and Juarez is my Beta. And I don’t need a woman in this Pack. We do just fine on our own.”
He let go of her and stood up, dusting the sand off his arms ever so casually. “Why don’t you go home and be a good girl?” he mocked. “You’re too innocent to come playing with the big boys. I can smell it on you. You have the hunger and you have the heat, but you’re not tough enough to play our games.”
Chantal scrambled to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. “I am. I can be. Just tell me. What do I have to do?”
The man raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to know?”
Chantal nodded, planting her feet firmly in the sand.
“All right.” The man stuck his hand into the fire, fishing out the chunk of meat. “We’d even let you eat before you go.”
Chantal’s stomach let out a loud growl, but she shook her head. “I’m staying.”
“Why?” the man demanded. “What do you possibly have to offer us that’s worth anything?”
Facing him down, Chantal took a deep breath and steeled herself. She peeled off her ripped T-shirt and flung it onto the sand, letting her bare breasts spill free, the blackberry-colored nipples hard as horn. She put her hands to the fastening of her jean shorts, soaked through at the crotch with the evidence of her hunger. Heat, he’d called it. Damn right. How she’d missed making the connection, she didn’t know. But this, this desperate need to mate, this was heat.
“I offer myself,” she said, low and soft, but carrying. “Do you want me?”
The man stared at her for a minute, weighing her in t
he balance, then grinned. He gave one of the wolves a push with his foot, knocking it aside. “I think we can make a trade. Take those off the rest of the way.”
“I want your name first.” Chantal kept her fingers just over her zipper, drawing out the moment. “Tell me what to call you. I need a name if I’m going to be screaming.”
“Oh, you will scream.” The man dropped the meat, crossed to her and cupped her cheek in his palm. “My name is Saint Sin. Or at least that’s what they call me. And yes, I’m a wolf. Just like you, just like Juarez. And you want to be in our pack. You offer your body as a payment. Fine, then.”
He jerked her zipper down for her and pushed one hand into her shorts, cupping her pussy and giving it a hard squeeze. “Let’s talk.”
Chapter Two
Chantal got the immediate feeling that talking didn’t mean what she thought it meant. Usually it implied conversation between two people, but not with this man.
Saint Sin let go of her pussy, leaving her body crying out for more, more, more. He licked his fingers one by one, making small noises of appreciation at her taste. “Delicious,” he breathed, making her juices flow harder. “You taste like a she-wolf. It’s been ages. Take off your shorts.”
Bending at the waist, Chantal stripped off the rest of her clothes, including the scrap of underwear she’d put on for some reason. Then she stood before him, black and proud, knowing she looked like an Amazon queen. Strong enough to take him on.
His eyes raked over the length of her body. “You’re as pretty as I remember,” he said flatly. “Even better when you’re naked. But the party’s only just beginning. You stand there until I call you.”
Then, he turned and walked away seemingly without a second thought.
She watched him go, the strong lines of his back sloping down to his perfectly rounded ass, the muscles working and playing under his skin, and the tangle of his ponytail. He had a tattoo of a wolf on his right shoulder blade, the animal’s head tilted back in a howl.
He looked like a Hell’s Angel -- heavy on the devil, heavy on the angel. If he’d had a beard and B.O. to go along with the tattoo, she wouldn’t have tangled with him in the first place. But he’d smelled… God, he smelled good. Raw, primal male touched with saltiness from the sea that washed up onto their South Beach shore. Something else, too, something unfamiliar. And his jaw had been smooth and hairless as if he’d just shaved.
As he walked over to a log of driftwood rolled up close to the fire, he elbowed Juarez hard, all but punching him in the side. Juarez snarled, but when Saint Sin glared at him, bowed his head.
Chantal observed them with interest. What was going on now?
Juarez gave her a dark look, bent down on his hands and knees, and, with a movement like a full-body sneeze, changed from a tall, strong man into a massive wolf nearly as tall as her thigh. Chantal swallowed hard, staring at him. Any doubts she might have had lurking in the back of her mind were erased.
Werewolves.
As Saint Sin seated himself, the wolf-Juarez padded over to the meat dropped carelessly beside their bonfire. He gingerly picked the chunk up in his jaws, a massive set of teeth that could rend a body from limb to limb, and carried it over to Chantal. He sat on his hindquarters with the meat in his mouth, offering it up to her in silence.
Chantal stared at Juarez. “This is for me?”
“If you want it.” Saint Sin stretched his legs out, his bare feet dangerously close to the fire. “If you don’t, there’s barely enough for the two of us, not to mention the rest of them.” He cast a glance at the other wolves, not as big or bulky, but just as dangerous, starting to circle and lick their chops.
The meat had been dusted with sand and ash where it lay beside the fire, but the sight of it had Chantal’s stomach rumbling and her saliva flowing. She reached out to pull off a piece, then thought better of herself and bent to tear off a slab with her strong white teeth. She got a good portion too, almost a quarter of what she now realized was beef. It dangled from her jaws, hanging heavy, but she snatched it up in her hands and began eating, snapping off ravenous bites and gulping them down almost without chewing.
Saint Sin laughed. “So maybe you are one of us,” he said lazily. “Juarez?”
Juarez the wolf snarled at Chantal then dropped the meat at her feet. He shivered hard and changed again, unfolding into the tall, bulky man she’d first seen when she stepped onto the beach. He glared at her, then bent to pick up the meat. Strong hands tore the remainder in two uneven halves. After stepping around the fire to pass the larger half to Saint Sin, he settled down on the log to devour his own share.
Through it all, Chantal would have sworn that his attention never wavered from her, even when his eyes weren’t fixed on her chest. Juarez had the ability to make you think he was looking everywhere even if he was just staring into space. Is that a wolf thing, or just part of his own magic? she wondered. Does Saint Sin do that as well?
She didn’t think so -- but then again, Saint Sin didn’t need to watch his back. He knew he had everything covered with no help needed. He put his meat aside and then, leaning lazily forward with his hands resting on his knees, he eyed Chantal from head to toe. “Talk,” he said abruptly. “Sometimes I forget how, I spend so much time on the road or walking on four legs. We don’t usually party as men, but we can. That’s the difference between the rest of the Pack and myself. Well, and Juarez. I am the Alpha, and he is my Beta.”
“Your enforcer,” Chantal remembered from her lessons. “He has to obey your orders.”
“Yeah. Pisses him off sometimes, too, doesn’t it, Juarez?” Saint Sin kicked some sand in his second-in-command’s direction. The man’s lip curled in a snarl, but he kept quiet. “You know it does. You’re just too smart to say anything. Come here. I want you to party with me.”
Juarez hung back, glaring. “Not in front of her.”
“Oh, yes. You do whatever I tell you to, and we were about to get it on before we were rudely interrupted by a little girl who came roaring up on a dirt bike bound together with duct tape.” Saint Sin cupped his cock through his shorts. “Don’t tell me you’re not drooling for it.”
“I don’t… she has no right to see.”
“If she’s going to be our new Alpha, then she has every right.” Chantal got the feeling he was making fun of her, and of Juarez too. “Come on. Be a good boy.”
A low rumble emanated from Juarez’ chest, but he drew closer to Saint Sin all the same. Saint Sin shifted his position so that he was straddling the log, one leg to either side. “Right here, Juarez,” he said just loudly enough for Chantal to hear him over the crackling of the fire and the rush of the waves. “Long live los Lobos.”
Juarez straddled the log himself, his knees touching Saint Sin’s. Reaching out with surprisingly awkward hands, he tugged at the hem of Saint Sin’s shorts, trying to pull them down. Saint Sin lifted his ass so that the material could come free of his hips and then leaned back on his elbows, his cock hard enough to stand straight up, a thin string of pre-come trailing down to his lower belly.
Watching them, Chantal forgot to eat. She let the hand holding the meat fall to her side, while her other hand crept up to her mouth, greasy fingers covering her lips. Was he really going to… Oh, God. Her pussy clenched and she had a feeling that not fingers or a dildo would satisfy her now.
Juarez gave Chantal another look, and then bent his head to Saint Sin’s cock, sucking the tip of it into his mouth. His eyes fluttered closed as he sank downward on the shaft, his cheeks hollowing and bulging. More of Saint Sin’s cock disappeared down his throat, until he must have been stuffed to the very limit.
Chantal watched them, fantasized about that cock filling her pussy, and felt the cream begin to run down the inside of her leg. She licked her fingers off one by one, wishing she could taste Saint Sin’s flavor on her skin, and squeezed her legs together. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, or that it was so hot.
Juarez was getting int
o it now, rising and falling, his head bobbing and that thick dark hair sliding over the hard muscles in his back. Saint Sin looked more amused than aroused, though, even as he began rocking up to get a better angle.
With a loud pop, Juarez pulled off. “That’s enough of a show,” he growled, planting his hands on Saint Sin’s thighs. “Unless you make me, I won’t do anything else until we’re alone again.”
“I could,” Saint Sin said, a burr in his voice. “You won’t have any other choice if I order you to finish what you started.”
“What I started? You -- you --”
“You were the one to go down on me.”
“Because you ordered me to.”
“I never had to command you before.”
“That was different.” Juarez wiped his mouth off with one hand. “She wasn’t here then. Why did you go and bite her, anyway? We were fine on our own.”
“I told her why, and now I’m telling you. It was fun.” Saint Sin sat up, kicking his shorts off the rest of the way. They fell in a ragged heap at his feet. He poised himself on the log, cock slapping against his stomach, a grin on his face that was both challenge and threat.
Chantal couldn’t help taking a step forward. Rising to his bait.
“How would you like to be the one between my legs?” Saint Sin asked, husky, tempting as dark chocolate. “I can smell you from here. Watching what we did turned you on like a switch, didn’t it? Mmm, yeah, a switch. I could go for seeing you spread out over a bike, your hands and ankles tied, opened up for me to come on inside and do what I wanted. I’d have a switch in my hand, ready to stripe that beautiful body of yours until you turned an even darker shade of chocolate. God, you would be beautiful spread out for me like that.”
Raising her head, Chantal took a deep breath. Huh. If they could smell her arousal, maybe the strange new scent on the air was their own need. It wouldn’t be as strong as her own, since they weren’t in heat, but yeah, she could tell, the odor was there. “You’ve got the idea right, but you have the scenario wrong,” she said boldly. “I think what you really want to do is eat my pussy. I can see myself tied over a bike, sure, but on my back with you kneeling between my legs, licking me from top to bottom.”