by Beverly Rae
“I, uh, we haven’t come in before now. In fact, we only came to the area a little over a week ago.”
“Is that so? Why here? Why now?” He sensed a need to know whatever she was and who she was with.
She looked at him, worry in her eyes. “I can’t say.”
Can’t? Or won’t? He could push her, but didn’t. Michael and the rest would make it their business to find out. No need in hassling her. “Well, then, welcome.” To humans, he would’ve sounded sincere. But she caught his underlying tone and gave him a quick nod. She hefted the tray and blended in with the crowd.
He stared after her, wondering how many others were with her. Four more? Or were there more scattered around the room? And if so, how many were male?
He flipped open his phone to call Michael a second before a shout split the air.
Chapter Three
“Back off, bitch!” Linda Rison pushed out with one hand, shoving Tamara back against Lauren.
Lauren grabbed her arms, holding her back, but Tamara wasn’t ready to fight. Instead, she held up her hands, palms out to the angry woman. “Look, Linda. You’re mad at the wrong person. As far as I’m concerned you can have Jackson.”
Linda stepped forward, her eyes wild, her hair strewn across her face. “Yeah, right. Like you’re not wagging your butt at him every chance you get.”
She’d had enough of this crap. Seemed like every time she turned around, either Jackson was trying to pin her down or Linda was accusing her of stealing her man. Why couldn’t they get it through their hard heads? She didn’t want him, and he’d never been Linda’s man to start with. Were they both delusional? But why did they have to trap her in the middle of their insanity?
“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I try to stay out of Jackson’s way as much as possible. Why don’t you offer yourself up in my place?” She cringed, realizing a moment too late that she’d said the wrong thing.
“In your place?” Linda slapped her hand to her chest. “Like I’m some kind of second-place prize? Why, you low-down, dirty skank.”
Tamara had enough time to throw her hands up to ward off Linda’s attack. Long, sharp fingernails, almost as deadly as claws, came at her, and she tried to twist away from the danger. Pain raked through her bare shoulder and she suddenly wished she hadn’t worn the off-the-shoulder blouse.
She whirled toward Linda just in time to stop her second strike. Taking her wrists, she butted her chest against Linda’s, putting her face inches from the wild woman. “I don’t want Jackson, and I don’t want to fight you.”
“You’re nothing but a two-bit whore trying to take my man.”
Holy hell. Her man? “Get over it, girlfriend. He’s free for the taking. I’m not what’s keeping you two apart.” She groaned and pushed Linda away. “Don’t blame me because he doesn’t want your skinny ass.”
Damn, I shouldn’t have gone there.
Linda screeched, her words growing unintelligible, and flung her body at Tamara. Linda knocked the air from her, and together they hit the floor. Shouts, catcalls, and taunts raised the noise level as the bar crowd circled around them.
Tamara dug her fist into Linda’s dark hair and yanked in the same instant Linda yanked on hers. Striking out, Tamara fought to land solid blows, hoping to loosen the woman’s grip and get away. Linda snatched at her clothing, and the awful sound of cloth tearing had Tamara glancing down at her blouse. But it wasn’t her clothes getting ripped apart.
Lauren and another friend grabbed Linda wherever they could, including hanging onto her shirt. They yanked at her while another friend pried Linda’s fingers out of Tamara’s hair.
“We’ve got her, Tamara. Let go of her hair.”
Tamara released her hold, but Linda wasn’t letting go. “Get off me, bitch!”
“Get her other arm, Steph.” Lauren tugged on one of Linda’s arms while Stephanie tugged on the other. More material ripped, exposing one of Linda’s breasts. The men around them went wild, hooting and hollering.
Tamara kicked out, landing a hard blow to Linda’s midsection. She howled and loosened her hold on Tamara. Tamara rolled away and jumped to her feet.
“What the hell is going on?”
She turned toward the familiar voice, her hair hanging in her face. Nick stepped between the women, arms stretched out, palms out to stop them. He snarled, glancing from the group still struggling with Linda then back to Tamara.
“It’s just a little disagreement between friends.” She took in his strong body, the way his Whiskey River T-shirt clung to his muscles.
“If this is just a little disagreement between friends, I’d hate to see you in a throw-down with an enemy.” He narrowed his eyes, a searching glint in them. “I know you, don’t I?”
Her gaze slid from his gorgeous, sky-blue eyes to his red hair. She twirled the red streak in hers around her finger. “I doubt it. I haven’t come in here before tonight.”
“You whore. Let go of me!” Lauren and the other women still had hold of Linda. Lauren jerked her head to the side, telling Tamara to leave.
As much as she wanted to stay, her friend had a point. Besides, she wasn’t ready to reveal her identity to Nick. No, she wanted to play with him a while longer. “I think I’d better leave.”
He shook his head. “Why not let your outraged friend leave instead? From what I saw, she’s the troublemaker.”
“You’re right. She is.” She studied him again, from the curve of his tight ass to his crotch, only realizing a moment later that she’d licked her lips. He noticed, a grin forming.
“Stay.”
She wanted to. Wanted to stay with him forever. Even now, even without touching, she could feel the heat stirring between her legs. The unseen connection, an almost physical entity, stretched between them. He sensed it, too, judging from his automatic step toward her and the hunger on his face.
“Tamara, please. We can’t hold her much longer.”
She tore her attention away from Nick’s solid, wide chest, away from the wolf tattoo on his arm, and back to Lauren. “Okay, okay. I’m going.”
“No. Like I said, we can make her leave.”
She winked at him, teasing him with another flick of her tongue over her moist lips. “Naw. I’m good.” Snatching up her helmet from their table, she spun on her heel and hurried toward the exit.
* * * *
Nick recognized the wolf logo on her helmet. No way would he let her get away again. He rushed after her, but she’d already gotten ahead of him as he pushed through the men moving closer to the other women. A flash of auburn hair caught his attention and a breeze wafted in through the open door.
“Hold up!”
But she was already gone into the darkness.
He thrust the door open and ran into the parking lot. Searching, he scanned the area covered with cars and motorcycles. Where the hell was she?
A woman’s laugh had him whirling to the right. He ran, hoping she’d keep laughing. Taking the corner of the building in a half slide, half run, he skidded to a stop.
Tamara stood next to a motorcycle. The same one he’d raced against and lost. “Hey. Wait a sec.”
Brilliant blue eyes, reminding him of his own, locked onto him. She stared, her helmet in the crook of her arm. “Why?”
“Why?” He started toward her then stopped when she slung her leg over the bike and took her seat. “Why not?”
“I’m busy.” The corners of her mouth tipped upward.
“Too busy to talk about our race?” He inched forward, treating her like a timid doe.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He could see the lie on her face. “Yeah, you do. I recognize your bike.” He tilted his head to see the other side of her helmet clearer. “And that’s the only helmet I’ve ever seen with that particular wolf logo on it. Come on. Surely you remember driving me off the road.”
Her laugh intoxicated him, sending lust rushing into his cock. “You mean when you
lost control and skidded out? Have you taken any driving lessons yet?”
He chuckled and strode toward her. She straightened up and started to put her helmet on. He grabbed her arm, not rough, but firm enough to stop her from covering up her beautiful face. He’d known she couldn’t be ugly, but she was so much more. She had a model’s cheekbones, full lips that other women paid good money to get, and a cute button of a nose that softened her angular face. Silky, auburn hair with a red streak framed her sensual features.
“No. Don’t go.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Can’t you hear her? Linda’s still raving. What if she comes outside? Do you want the fight to keep going?”
Yes and no. If another fight kept her around, then yes. But he’d hate to see one scratch marring the dewy skin of her face. Dewy? Damn. When had he ever thought of skin as dewy?
“No. But I think they’ll get things under control. If they don’t, Sally will bust all their chops.”
“Don’t count on it. Those girls are scrappers. Big time. Especially Linda.”
“You mean the one trying to tear your face off?”
“She’s the one.” She traced a finger over his tattoo. “I see you’re into wolves.”
“You could say that.” His skin tingled where she touched him, reminding him of the other woman buying the drinks, yet with more power, more allure pulling at his gut.
“So it’s Tamara. I heard one of the others call you by name. Remember my name? Nick Rogers.”
She feigned a confused expression but he knew she remembered.
She was beautiful. Yet even more intriguing was the look of intelligence, independence, and downright sassiness. He’d never met a woman encompassing all three attributes. Attributes that turned him on. “So? Are you going to tell me your last name?”
“Why do you care?”
Serious attitude. Just like he liked in a woman. “Because I want to know who I’m talking to.” And who could be sending him the dream.
“It’s Westland.”
He grinned, pleased that she’d told him. “Tamara Westland. Pretty name. Where are you from, Tamara Westland?”
“Nowhere. Everywhere. We’re new to the area.”
“Who’s we?” He exhaled when she withdrew her hand, almost as though she’d taken some of his breath along with her.
“My, uh, my family.”
“So are those girls part of your family?” He tried again, his intuition telling him she was holding back the real information. But if she wanted to play games, then he didn’t mind. Just as long as she stayed.
“In a way.”
He leaned toward her, sliding his hand along her back and making her jump. He resisted a smile. “You don’t talk much, do you? Good. I think that’s an asset in a woman.”
A flash of anger erupted in the blue depths. Depths he’d love to dive into and never return. He inhaled, taking in the intoxicating scent of lavender. The lavender fragrance mixed with an underlying exotic aroma he couldn’t quite place. A breeze picked up her hair, tumbling it around her bare shoulders.
“Looks like Loony Linda got in a lick or two.” He touched her shoulder, tenderly, skirting around the four trails of blood.
She followed his movement and quivered when his fingers lingered on her shoulder. “It’s just a few scratches. No biggie.”
“Still, maybe you should come back inside and put some antiseptic on them. At least cover it with a bandage. There’s a med kit in the back office.” He could see her already, bent over the huge wooden desk, her juicy bottom ready for his shaft.
She shrugged his hand off, yet he couldn’t shake the impression that she’d hated to do so. “No thanks. I really need to get going.”
“Do you say that to all the guys? Or just me?”
“What?” Her blue eyes clouded. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You have to get going. It’s the same thing you said when we first met.”
“What can I say? I’m a busy woman.”
He slid his hand along her arm, moving to the uninjured shoulder.
“But this time I caught you and I might just keep you.” He couldn’t help himself. Touching her had lowered his resistance, and he had to feel her against his skin, his lips traveling over her smooth skin.
“Do you dream, Tamara?”
She blinked. “Everyone dreams.”
“Do you send dreams?”
Her eyes brightened, twinkling. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Yeah, you do. You know exactly what I mean. “You say that a lot, too.”
Suddenly, he gave into his urges. He’d said enough to put her on guard. Too much and she’d run.
He leaned to the side as she turned her head and he brushed her hair away from her neck. Before she could react, he kissed the side of her neck. The short hairs at her hairline tickled his upper lip, but the exquisite texture of her skin almost drove him insane.
She drew in a long breath then melted, her body easing against him. Skimming his tongue, he traced the line of her collarbone. Her eyes closed, her breathing quickened. The pulse in her neck beat faster.
Nuzzling her, he fingered the top of her blouse, teasing her into arching her back while challenging himself not to take it farther. When she did, he lost his dare and slipped his hand under the silky material. She moaned softly and gripped his arms.
The softness of the swell of her breast led to the firm nipple. He thumbed her hard bud and earned another moan. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, hurting him, but he’d withstand any amount of pain for the pleasure of her.
“Come with me.”
She didn’t answer, giving him hope and despair in the same moment. Letting out a sigh, she shook her head, but kept her eyes closed.
He dipped his other hand lower, skirting down her spine to glide over the rise of her buttocks and grip one butt cheek. Pushing his leg between hers, he rubbed her with his thigh, urging her to reconsider. She moaned as he pulled her off the bike and pressed her body against his.
She stood with her feet planted apart and he moved against her, his erection obvious and urgent. Lifting her, he placed her butt back on the seat and widened her legs. Yearning overpowered him, and he ached to take her, not caring who might walk by and see them. Deftly, he ran his hand over her pelvis and unzipped her jeans. One hand caressed her breast while the other slid over the thin back tee of her thong.
She was angel and a temptress rolled into one. He kissed her, taking her tongue and dragging her spicy tastes inside his mouth. He shook, matching her trembling.
“I want you. No. Hell, I need you.”
She remained silent even as he dipped his head and lashed his tongue around her nipple. Sucking and nipping, he took her hardened bud. Her grip tightened on his shoulders, but he didn’t care, didn’t feel anything other than the sweetness of her nipple, the softness of her skin.
“Whoa, baby.”
Tamara jerked away from him and tugged her shirt up, then struggled to zip her jeans. He pivoted toward the women behind him, using his body to shield her.
The blonde from the bar grinned. “I’m Lauren. Tamara’s friend. And who are you?”
“I’m Nick Rogers.” He stuck out his hand in greeting, but Lauren didn’t take it.
Linda, scowling yet under control, busily typed on her cell phone. The other women studied him like he was a microbe under a microscope.
“Tamara, are you okay? We wondered where you’d gone.”
“Looks like she’s more than okay, Lauren.” A dark-haired woman wiggled her eyebrows. “If we’d known you weren’t alone we would’ve stayed inside.”
“And miss the show? Not a chance.” Lauren’s grin grew wider.
Tamara moved to his side and touched his arm. The powerful current of a connection swept between them again, only stronger. “I’m fine.” Her gaze flitted to Linda, who still had her focus centered on her cell phone.
“Great. Then how about we go back inside and get the par
ty rolling again. Without another fight.” Lauren took Tamara’s hand and started to pull her along with her, keeping her body between Tamara and Linda. “Right, Linda?”
“Unless she’d rather stay outside with Nick.” Lauren grinned. “Or Nick could join us.”
“Ooh, yeah. Let him join us. For a little while anyway.”
Everyone swiveled to Linda, their bodies stiffening, wary expressions on their faces.
“What do you mean? What did you do?” Lauren’s voice dropped in pitch.
Nick crossed his arms, enjoying the show even if he didn’t fully understand what was going on.
Linda held up her phone. “I told Jackson you were here.”
“What the fuck for?”
Nick reached out for Tamara to help settle her nerves, but she knocked his hand away.
“I figured he’d want to know that his darling Tam was getting it on with another guy. He’s on his way.”
Tamara shot Linda a dark look then turned back to her bike.
Nick’s stomach flipped over. “Who’s Jackson?”
Tamara’s eyes blazed. She slipped her helmet over her head and started her motorcycle. “Now I’ve really got to get going.”
He grabbed her, making her turn back to him. Lowering his tone, he whispered, “Come back tomorrow afternoon. Before the rush starts.”
She glanced at her friends then gave him a quick nod.
The women scattered, heading for their bikes as Tamara maneuvered out of the parking lot. Gunning it, she flew down the road.
Nick watched as the rest followed her until he couldn’t see the lights of their bikes any longer. “I’d sure like to know where she’s always running off to.”
Chapter Four
The nine werewolves, six males and three females, ran as a unit, each loping alongside another, their group as tight as any jet fighter formation. The larger black one took the lead with a brown one keeping by his side. A golden wolf behind them nipped playfully at the heels of another werewolf, one similar to the leader. One werewolf pounded next to a small black female while the rest spread out to form the bottom of the triangular pattern. Their tongues lolled out of their mouths, exhaustion from the all-night run showing in their shortened strides. Pricking their ears forward, they searched for sounds of danger. Beautiful and free, they ran toward their home.