Playing Wolf

by Mina Carter

  God, is he going to kiss me? I want…no, I need him to.

  “No, because women who aren't ladies in here are fair game.”

  His eyes bored into hers, their green lit with a dark heat that made her go weak in the knees. For years she'd wondered what all that solid muscle would feel like, wondered whether he, if either of them, actually noticed her as a woman.

  Now, held against him from breast to thigh, she had her answer as the bulge at his crotch pressed against her soft belly. Oh, he was noticing her as a woman alright.

  “Women who aren't ladies in here get fucked. Good and hard. You want that, pretty little kitty-cat?” he taunted, pressing his erection against her. Cat gasped in shock, her hands clamping onto his upper arms to push him away. Something stopped her. He wasn't just big, he was huge. The scent of an aroused male wolf swirled about her and made her head swim. Cat bit back the whimper welling in her throat as her wolf—usually a meek and mild creature—rose in response. Oh God yes, she wanted some of that, a rush of liquid heat slipping from between her thighs as her pussy clenched.

  “Fuck me, she's getting off on it.”

  Ryder's surprised whisper behind her reminded her they weren't alone. Cat blinked, breaking the spell between her and Jayce. His lip curled as he pushed her from him with force. She stumbled backwards and ended up on her ass in front of the table, looking up at him dumbly. His expression was hard and arrogant as he looked down.

  “Leave,” he advised, “unless you want to end up flat on your back servicing us both. Because there's no granddaddy here to protect you now kitty-cat.”

  *

  Jayce felt like a shit, a complete and utter shit, as Caitlin's beautiful golden eyes filled with hurt. A groan welled up and was ruthlessly suppressed. Cat was his secret vice, she always had been.

  Six years ago he and Ryder had had to leave the pack because of this woman—or girl as she'd been then—because sooner or later one of them was going to make a move on her and then all hell would have broken loose.

  He nodded towards the front of the bar. “There's the door sweetheart, don't let it hit you in the ass on the way out.”

  Tears welled, spearing him through the heart. He could cope with everything but her tears. He'd never been able to stand it when Cat cried. Even as a child she'd been able to wind him around her little finger but thankfully she'd been too innocent to realize what she did to him and use it to her advantage.

  “Jay…” Ryder started warily. “She found us. Surely…”

  “No!” Jayce snapped, knowing what Ryder was going to say and rejecting the idea before it could take root in his head. That way lay madness … and long hot nights of passion.

  Because all he wanted to do was grab Caitlin by the wrist, haul her out to one of the rooms Honey rented out and spend all night balls deep in her softness. He knew once he'd had a taste of her, he'd never be able to let her go.

  Caitlin looked from one brother to the other and held her hand out for one of them to help her up. Jayce cut a glance to his brother, a look that said plainly if he did, Jayce would take his hand off at the wrist. She sighed and climbed to her feet, dusting her hands off on the seat of her jeans. Jayce's body tightened savagely. She'd found them…

  “But she's a big girl now Jay—” Ryder's tone was mulish but Jayce ignored him. He wanted Cat as well but … she was pure. Not for the jaded games they played with their women, sharing them, fucking them in a hundred different and dirty ways. She deserved romance which was something neither Vanir brother had an ounce of in their bodies.

  With a growl he turned on Ryder, slamming him up against the wall as he vented his anger and frustration on the only viable target in reach. “I said no,” he hissed into his brother's face, his own tight with barely controlled need and lust.

  Ryder didn't fight back, the air knocked out of his lungs by the powerful blow. Instead his hand curled around Jayce's neck as understanding filled his eyes.

  “Hey, you wolves back there. Any of the kinky man-on-man shit and you're barred. Take your bitch and go screw about somewhere else,” Honey yelled from the bar. “I run a clean place here and don't you forget it.”

  Jayce laughed as he dropped his hold on Ryder and stepped back. He knew the laugh was bitter, perhaps even a little on the maniacal side but he was past caring. He walked past Caitlin without looking at her. “Sure Honey, if you run a clean joint then I'm the fucking pope. And she's not our bitch.”

  “Well, if she isn't then you won't mind if someone else claims her.”

  *

  Caitlin snapped her head around at the new voice, one full of slick charm and smarm that raised the hackles on the back of her neck.

  Four new arrivals stood just inside the door, one still holding it open for others outside. Tall, and heavily built, they all wore the dusty leathers of bikers. Their eyes were all fixed on her, lust and interest burning within them. Inside, her wolf snarled a low growl of warning, one which spilled over into her human form as she caught the scent.

  Were-cats.

  Her growl was echoed by both the brothers as Ryder stepped in front of her protectively. “She's taken.”

  Blond and handsome at the front smiled and revealed canine teeth far too sharp for Cat's liking. A shiver wormed its way down her spine, the cool wash of fear filtering through into her scent. Only a little as she battled to control the emotion, but enough for Ryder to turn his head. Her senses on high alert, she caught the small movement and looked at him.

  He winked to reassure her, his eyes full of easy charm, and Caitlin couldn't help breathing a sigh of relief. However much Jayce hadn't wanted her around, she knew they'd give up their last breath protecting her.

  “Yeah, what he said,” Jayce pitched in. The were-cat's gaze flitted from one to the other, noting the similarities. Then he smiled. It wasn't a nice expression.

  “You're Jayce Vanir, aren't you?”

  “Yeah, what of it?”

  The cat reached inside his jacket and pulled out a snub-nosed handgun. Cat screamed as he pointed it directly at Jayce. “Got a message from your dad.”

  Chapter Two

  “Run!” Ryder bellowed at Cat, shoving her towards the back door as Jayce collapsed, blood pooling in a wide circle on the floor around him. Cat did as she was told as Ryder waded into the fray, shouting his brother's name.

  The bar erupted into violence as the big wolf and the locals took on the were-cats. Two more shots rang out. The long mirror behind the bar shattered as she passed. Cat shrieked and ducked, covering her head with one hand as she scooted a few step half on her hands and knees before gaining her feet again.

  “Hey! That was my mother’s!” the woman at the bar yelled and ducked out of sight, emerging a second later with a heavy-duty shotgun in her hands. Within seconds the place resembled a war zone.

  Jayce’s blood scented the air like exotic incense and Cat stopped by the door Ryder had pushed her towards. She trembled, caught between the instinct to run for safety and her need to do something. She couldn't just leave them and save her own ass, not with Ryder standing over his brother's still form throwing were-cats around like they were toys.

  Cat bit her lip, her expression worried. She hoped Jayce was only unconscious, but there was an awful lot of blood on the floor. Too much blood. Moving before she was conscious of making a decision, she dodged back through the crowd, able to avoid the grasping hands with ease to reach the safety of Ryder's side. He turned as she drew level with him, violence in his eyes.

  “Get him out of here,” he ordered, turning back to the fight. Cat squeaked as a chair shattered over his shoulder, but the tall wolf barely seemed to notice it, snapping a bark that sounded odd in his human form and lashing out with a vicious right hook.

  Doing as she was told didn't come easily to Cat but in this instance she was scared enough to obey without question. Wrinkling her nose, she hooked her hands under Jayce's prone form and hauled him up so she could link her fingers over his broad ch
est.

  “Don't you dare die on me you awkward bastard,” she muttered as she started to pull him backwards.

  It was like dragging a lump of granite. She'd known Jayce was solid but even being plastered over him less than ten minutes ago hadn't given her a real appreciation for how heavy all that muscle could be.

  “Christ Jayce, you need to go on a diet,” she grumbled, setting her heels and dragging him another couple of feet.

  “Well hello, what do we have here?”

  Cat looked up. Standing over her, his leather jacket gone with his shirt ripped and bloody, was the blond were-cat, a leer on his lips.

  “You really are a pretty little thing, aren't you? I didn't think when we took this job we'd get a bonus like you as well.”

  Cat snarled at him, baring her teeth. All fire on the surface, she hoped he didn’t realize her knees were practically knocking together. “One step closer and I'll—”

  He laughed. “You'll what? Nip my ankles?”

  A shadow rose behind him. Cat flinched as the butt of a shotgun flashed, the sound of a meaty crunch audible as it connected with the back of the were-cat's head. He went down like a marionette with its strings cut. The woman from behind the bar looked down at the fallen figure impassively, then delivered a savage kick to his stomach.

  “That's for my mom's mirror. Filthy cats, given half the chance I'd take a spade to the bloody lot of 'em. Always yowling and fucking outside. It's disgusting,” she complained, kneeling next to Jayce and checking his pulse.

  Cat offered a small smile. “After that I'm really hoping you're a dog person,” she indicated the shotgun and the fallen cat.

  “Yeah, dogs are cool. Wolves are okay too,” she replied, amusement in her grey eyes. “Hey, Blake … get yer good-for-nothing ass over here!”

  Her bellow had a tall, slender man on the other side of the room look up sharply. Fighting two cats, he hit them with the nearest thing at hand, using the top of a table like a huge club.

  “Fore!” he yelled before dropping it on the unconscious forms, strolling over to the fallen wolf and his companions as though he had all the time in the world.

  “How's he look, Honey?” Ryder dropped to his knees next to Cat, worry etched into his handsome face. Cat glanced around, belatedly realizing all the cats were unconscious or moaning in their own private worlds of pain.

  Good. Served them right. All she was concerned about was Jayce. She looked back at him as worry twisted in her gut. There was so much blood. Way too much. It pooled thickly under his body and the heady scent of wolf blood and approaching death rolled around the bar. Inside, Cat’s wolf threw back its head and howled mournfully.

  The bartender pulled the blood-stained vest away and studied what lay beneath. “He's gut-shot. We need to get him conscious and shifted. That should clear most of it up. Get him out of danger anyway.”

  “Hate to break it to you guys but this lot called for backup. I'm seeing bikes on the road and ten to one they ain't the local Hells Angels,” Blake said, moving to the window to look out, urgency in his voice.

  Cat’s heart thudded in her chest as the fight or flight instinct fired through her veins. They needed to get out of here before more were-cats arrived. With Jayce injured there was no way they’d make it out alive.

  “We're gone. Honey, hold them as long as you can would ya, sweetheart?” Ryder hoisted his brother in his arms and stood as though Jayce weighed nothing. “Cat, get the door, we'll head out the back.”

  “You got it,” the tall woman replied, her attitude businesslike. “Blake get out front and stall them while I get the wardens on the line.” She frowned, turning back to the pair with a question in her eyes. “What did he mean, he had a message from your dad?”

  Cat paused and looked up at Ryder curiously. In all the time she’d known the twins and their mother they’d never once spoken of their father. It was almost as if it had been a taboo subject.

  A muscle jumped in Ryder's jaw. “That's something I'd like to know as well.”

  * * * *

  Cat strode ahead of the taller werewolf and his burden as they headed out the back door of the bar. Hopelessness swept over her as she stared at the barren terrain. The bar and motel were in the ass-end of beyond, nothing about for miles. There was nowhere to hide, and with Jayce injured they needed somewhere to hole up so he could heal.

  “Shit, what do we do?” she asked Ryder, panic clogging her throat. Perhaps they could hide in one of the rooms … no, that wouldn't work. Were-cats had an excellent sense of smell, easily the equal of any wolf. With Jayce bleeding they'd be found within minutes.

  Ryder carried on walking, past Cat and around the back of the motel where he laid his brother on the ground and turned to her. “Change,” he ordered as he started to undress.

  “W-what?” Cat didn’t bother to hide the surprise that filled her. “What here? Now? It's not even night … or a full moon.” Her speech faltered as he dropped the T-shirt to the ground and her eyes riveted to the expanse of muscled male chest on view.

  Oh my, he has a nipple ring. Heat hit Cat broad-side and she put a hand out to the wall to keep her balance, dragging her eyes up from his tattooed and pierced torso.

  “Change,” he repeated, his green eyes uncompromising. Then he sighed, his expression softening. “Cat honey, we need to move and fast. Which means we need Jay on his feet and not bleeding. So we need to get Jay to change. The only thing that'll do that at the moment is … oh fucking hell, he's gonna kill me.” Ryder broke off, running a hand over his shaven head in frustration.

  “What? What's the only thing that'll make him change?” Cat demanded, reaching for Ryder's arm as he made to turn away. It was like grabbing a brick wall, full of solid muscle.

  He looked at her hand, her pale slender fingers in direct contrast to the tanned brawn of his forearm. The heat in his eyes when he looked up made her gasp and take a step backwards.

  “Pussy,” he bit out. “Hot, wet pussy. A female wolf … the instinct to mate. It's the only thing that'll bring him around in time.”

  Cat's eyes widened, and her cheeks burned. He wanted her…

  “What do I need to do?” she finally managed, her heart pounding as several images flashed through her brain, each more erotic than the last, and imprinted themselves on the back of her eyelids.

  “Take your clothes off.”

  Cat closed her eyes, embarrassment washing over her. She understood the need. If Jayce changed then it would force his body to heal. “Turn around then.”

  Ryder barked a laugh. Cat winced at the harsh tone.

  “You've gotta be fucking kidding me? A woman who looks like you getting naked and you want me to turn around? Sorry sweetheart, I want front row seats at this one.” He folded his arms and watched her with interest.

  Cat compressed her lips into a thin line. He wanted to play hard-ball did he? She could do that. It was just like an art study class. She'd posed naked before, no big deal, she'd pretend she was in a room full of artists rather than in front of one of her childhood crushes. Besides, her eyes dropped to the bulge in the front of his pants, he'd have problems with this game of chicken before she did.

  Yeah, just like art class. Sure.

  Her fingers trembled as she reached for the hem of her T-shirt. She pulled it up and over her head in one smooth movement and dropped it to the floor at her feet. “So all I have to do is get naked right?” She unsnapped the buttons on her jeans, her cheeks burning. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. Not in front of Ryder. Especially not in front of Ryder.

  Her gaze flicked to Jayce, still bleeding out on the floor. Determination straightened her spine. What was getting naked, even dancing around in the buff, if it saved Jayce’s life?

  *

  Oh fuck, she was gorgeous. Ryder had had many day-dreams, wet-dreams and fantasies about Cat over the years but none of them matched up to the sheer perfection of the reality.

  His breathing caught as she slid the
denim down her hips in a move to rival any erotic dancer. She wasn't trying for erotic, he could tell that. There was too much of an air of innocence about her… Ryder doubted she knew the meaning of the word “sultry”. Unlike the women he and Jayce were used to spending their lust on.

  The life they led meant women like Cat were few and far between. It didn't take long in the places they frequented for even the most innocent to lose that naiveté, no matter how much they tried to hang on to it. Which suited the two wolves just fine. They weren't gentle men, not used to the mushy relationship stuff.

  Most of the time Ryder just wanted to fuck and fuck hard.

  So why, watching the slender woman in front of him tremble as she slid those jeans off her sinfully long legs, did he want to wrap her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay? Why, when he preferred black leather underwear and nipple clamps, was white cotton suddenly the most erotic thing on the planet?

  A noise on the other side of the buildings snapped his head around. His eyes narrowed as he listened to the muffled shouts and the roar of engines. The sound of bikes, a lot of bikes, and a truck.

  "They're searching … sounds like Blake's heading them off which gives us a bit of time but we need to move now. They'll be back after they catch him, if they can. Blake’s not exactly slow when it comes to hauling his ass outta trouble."

  Ryder didn't envy Blake when they did, but he was a shifter too. Quite what flavor Ryder didn't know, no one did, but Blake had a bad enough reputation that no one messed with him. Not even Ryder and Jayce. Hopefully he'd be able to handle a crowd of pissed-off cats.

  Ryder shook his head and started to strip his pants and boxers off, he couldn't worry about the other shifter now. He had Cat and Jayce to look after. Besides if they hurt Blake, or worse, the cats would have Honey to answer to and the Amazonian bar owner was not a woman to mess with.