by Moira Rogers
A sharp, quick tug brought her jeans off her hips, revealing the white cotton panties she wore. “All of them?” he teased as he hooked one finger under the elastic band and pulled gently.
“I was talking about your clothing.” But she lifted her hips a little in obvious invitation. “Not that you don’t look absurdly hot in nothing but jeans, but they might get in the way of my plans for the evening.”
Joe drew the cotton down her legs along with her jeans. “I know what you were talking about, honey.” He left his own jeans buttoned and in place. “Plenty of time.”
She braced her elbows on the bed and lifted up a little to watch him. “And what, exactly, are you planning to do to me that’s going to take all this time?”
He laughed and dropped her pants on the floor, then teased the back of her knee with his fingers. “I didn’t know you wanted a formal program for the evening.”
“Mmm, no. I’ve got confidence in your experience.” She shifted her leg and rubbed her calf against his side. “I think we can go forward without an outline.”
“Good to know.” He climbed on the bed, this time stretching out beside her and twisting a lock of her hair around his finger. “I’m better at winging it, anyway.” He used the tip of one curl to tease over her skin, then followed the invisible path with his tongue.
She responded with a shiver and an encouraging noise. Her hands found his back again, more aggressive this time as she dragged her nails lightly over his shoulders. He swallowed the growl that rose in his throat and stroked his hand down her belly and between her thighs as his lips parted over her breast and he sucked her nipple into his mouth.
She arched up to his touch, hot and wet, and his fingers slipped against her. This time, he groaned against her skin and caught her nipple between his teeth.
“Oh, God…” Her hand groped at the back of his head, and she choked on another moan as she shifted her legs apart and rocked into his touch with shameless abandon.
He barely brushed her clit, teasing more than anything else, and moved to swirl his tongue around her other nipple. He remained there, touching her without deepening his caresses, and waited for her to come to him.
It didn’t take long. A whimper escaped her and she dug her feet into the bed and arched her hips into his touch. “Joe!”
He turned his face to her neck. “What?”
She wiggled a little and somehow worked a hand between them. Her fingers rubbed against his cock through the fabric of his jeans, and she moaned again. “I am way too turned on for teasing.”
He clenched his jaw and moved his hand lower and pressed one finger inside her, rocking the heel of his hand against her. “Better?”
Brynn groaned, and her hand shifted up until her fingers encountered his belt. She swore softly and clutched at it as her hips rocked with his hand. “Fuck! I…can’t—oh Christ…”
“That’s right,” he murmured. He drew his finger back and thrust another one in, as well. “You want me naked, you have to come for me.”
Someone wants their perfect weapon back, only she’s not coming quietly.
Stripped
© 2009 Marcia Colette
Alexa Wells wants her life back. She’s just not sure what that life was. The memories inside her head—a stripper’s—aren’t hers, and before she humiliates herself onstage one more time, she sets out to collect the scattered pieces of her mind. The trail leads to Boston, charges of identity theft and murder, and the real bombshell: a forgotten werewolf lover who insists she’s a werewolf hybrid.
Matt York doesn’t care that she looks at him like he’s been smoking crack between court cases. Now that he has her back he’s not about to let her go it alone, even if she can easily kick ass and take names all by herself. Amnesia only scratches the surface of her problems, and like it or not, she’s stuck with him.
She’s also stuck with Robert Gamboldt, a venture capitalist who’s not above murdering his way to the top. He’s not about to lose his prize possession without playing dirty. It’s a simple enough offer. Be his personal assassin, or go to jail.
With options like that, it’s enough to make a hybrid go full-blood.
Warning: Delicious sexual tension with a werewolf who’ll wait as long as it takes for his hybrid werewolf mate to come around.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Stripped:
Matt’s wild scent came through like fresh cologne. I smelled him all the way over the railing and into the bushes where he had disappeared.
Woods enveloped my surroundings. I leaped over large boulders and rotted stumps, following his trail. Strange that I honed in on it among the woodsy scents. I could even pick out the fresh rabbit trails and deer that had left crisscross paths along the ground. When I came to a small ravine, I slid down the incline and splashed into the frigid brook at the bottom. Matt’s scent had disappeared, but I continued in a straight line anyway. There was no reason why he’d head downstream unless another animal was after him and he wanted to lose the scent. Grabbing a thick root, I climbed up the opposite side of the hill.
I stopped and whiffed the air. Still, no male wolf smell. Damn. Maybe my senses were wrong after all.
Stupid as it sounded, my instincts urged me to go down on all fours. It was a good thing I was in the middle of the forest or I’d never have lived this down. After dropping to my knees, I pressed my face close to the earth and sniffed around for a scent. I must have looked like a wild woman raised by dogs, pushing my way through leaves and twigs.
A smell hit me. On the smooth surface of a small rock, I found a piece of Matt. Excited, I continued searching, picking up more and more until I found the right direction again. I hopped to my feet and darted through a thick copse.
Branches and twigs snagged my sweats and pricked my calves. Twice, I tripped on rocks and thick roots, but they didn’t stop me. I needed to find him before that maniac hunter put a bullet in his ass. I was sure he wasn’t hurt or I would’ve smelled blood on the air.
Something about this experience brought back pieces of my dreams with me running through the woods. I half-expected a pack of wolves to filter out of the shadows and run with me. They didn’t, of course, but in a way, I wished they had. At least those shadows were friendly. Heaven only knew what awaited me out here.
A black wolf leaped from a band of thick foliage. I stopped and threw my back against the nearest tree, cold bark biting into my back.
Matt—my gut said it was him—growled. His ears flattened on his canine head and his lips peeled back to reveal a set of serrated teeth. The only signs of his human half were in his mahogany eyes. However, with the searing hatred burning through them now, I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure about that.
He lunged.
I ducked to the right and threw my fists in front of me, ready to fight him off. I guess I was wrong about anything human behind those eyes once he had turned into a wolf.
Matt landed somewhere behind my tree. A man screamed and stumbled backward. The wolf’s powerful jaws remained clamped around his assailant’s arm. Jerking his head from side to side, he hung on until bones cracked like a person biting into an apple. The yanking had turned into a pull as he tore the arm off and let it fall to the ground. Matt lunged at the man’s throat, silencing his horrific screams.
The savagery of his kill bothered me, though I knew it shouldn’t. If my dreams were correct, I had killed a few werewolves of my own, only I didn’t have sharp teeth to do it with. However, that cute butt and those adorable dimples didn’t seem cute anymore. Part of him was human, but full acceptance meant choosing the beast inside him too. That scared me. I didn’t want to be a savage like that.
Matt stumbled away from the unmoving body. In fact…he stumbled a lot.
Any doubts I had left me. I ran to him and dropped to my knees.
A whine came through his closed muzzle as he walked with a slight limp. Whenever he stopped moving, he lifted his left paw off the ground or barely let it touch.
&nb
sp; “Come here, you big baby.” I snatched him by the scruff of his neck and buried his head between my breasts. That might be just the thing he needed to calm down. “Let me see.”
He groaned and pulled away. I got rough with him this time. Matt tripped into me, so I wrapped one arm around his neck and held him still. He was a powerful animal, but I held my own and examined his shoulder. Maybe this was the best way to respect the wolf side of him. Through power and strength, seeing as he seemed to understand that most.
Blood matted his fur. At first, I thought it was from the man he had killed, but even after I cleaned it with my fingers, more appeared. Jagged pieces of skin about the size of a quarter kept pooling with blood. It looked like a graze, which meant he’d be okay. If he were human. Being a werewolf, I couldn’t be sure.
“You need to change,” I said. “You up to it?”
This time, Matt pulled away and settled down on his belly. His head lowered between his front legs and he closed his eyes.
His fur rippled. Seconds later, something began slithering underneath his bubbling coat. Several cracks jolted his legs and back. His tail was the first to go. It began receding into his tailbone until it disappeared. His face broke in several different spots just as his pointed ears began to round off and shrink back to where they were level with his eyes. Clawed paws elongated into fingers, thumb pressing out on the sides. With the exception of his head, his black hair had thinned out like a man balding on a time-lapse camera.
Minutes later, a naked man lay on the ground with one leg bent and the other one sticking straight out at me. Had the circumstances been less urgent, I might have sat there and admired the view.
An untriggered werewolf. A runaway Omega. It’s not easy fighting destiny.
Wolf Flight
© 2009 Vivien Arend
Granite Lake Wolves, Book 2
Tad Maxwell’s workaholism serves to keep his bush-pilot company in the air, and his inner werewolf in check. In the two years since he discovered his heritage, he’s resisted the longing to test the power of his wolf side. It would mean compromising his human principles.
Then Missy Leason re-enters his life. Ten years ago, their teenage attraction never went beyond hand-holding. Now their chemistry is off the charts, pushing him closer to the step he’s not sure it’s safe to take, especially with a human.
But Missy is more like Tad than he realizes. She’s wolf too, and a wolf pack is a dangerous place to have secrets. Missy’s Alpha has sniffed out her carefully hidden Omega powers. Her first response: run from the corrupt Alpha’s plan to make her his mate. Step two: get to Tad, and hope like hell his untapped powers are strong enough to negate her own.
Every touch with Missy is hot, hot, hot, but even finding out she’s pure wolf doesn’t solve Tad’s dilemma. Is she using him, or are they truly destined mates? Only one thing is certain. He will defend her to his last breath—on his terms. Even if it means losing his life.
Warning: Contains nasty Alphas, secret Omegas and werewolves acting raunchy on the dance floor. Sarcasm, wilderness cabins and hot nookie back by popular demand.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Wolf Flight:
By the time they pulled into the parking lot Missy was half out of her mind restraining herself from jumping Tad. She popped open her door and leapt into the blowing snow as soon as the truck shimmied to a stop.
Long deep breaths of icy cold air helped until Tad stepped around the cab with a concerned expression on his face.
“You okay, Missy?”
Oh, please don’t look concerned. Concern was one step away from affection, and tonight her body could jump from affection to full sex with no trouble at all.
“I’m fine. Just needed some fresh air. Shall we go?” Missy forced herself to sound bright and cheerful. She hoped the place would be loud, dark and smoke-filled to dull her senses enough to get through the evening with Tad’s virtue intact.
She wondered if he would appreciate the effort she was making. She had every intention of making love with him, but until she could visit the closest wolf pack and arrange for someone to tell Tad about his heritage she couldn’t act.
Tad held the door open for her, and as she stepped past his arms, she knew she was done for. There was music, quiet and jazzy. The only smoke was from BBQ ribs. And the lighting was perfect to see Tad’s eyes widen as he helped remove her coat.
“Fuck. Oops, sorry, but holy cow, you look good. I don’t think I’ve ever…” Tad swallowed hard, his gaze tracing up the length of her legs to where her skirt ended high above her knees.
Fine. It wouldn’t have met the Catholic Girls School Uniform Requirements but Missy was short and she need help to make her legs look longer. At least that was her excuse and she was sticking to it.
If she’d thought it through more she would have known this evening was going to be a bundle of dynamite waiting to detonate. Then she would have worn her baggy one-piece fleece hoodie that hung past her knees and a sloppy pair of sweat pants.
Liar.
She wouldn’t have. She wanted Tad to drool over her. It made something deep inside very satisfied to see the admiration and the fire in his eyes.
She took a quick glance around. They would be safer sitting at the tall stools in front of the bar itself. Instead, Tad held her elbow and led her back toward a small booth tucked to one side of the bar. It was too late to protest, so she slid onto the soft leather upholstery behind the tiny table, her knees brushing Tad’s as he followed her.
“What are you drinking tonight?” One of the servers stood waiting beside their table. Tad slipped his arm behind Missy, resting it along the back of the seat cushion, caressing her shoulders.
She was going to die. She really was. “Do they have—?”
“Sweetheart, first I’m gonna need to see some proof you’re of legal age,” the waitress interrupted.
Tad chortled as Missy dug into her purse cussing under her breath. She handed over her photo ID and poked Tad in the ribs to get him to stop. It really wasn’t funny anymore.
The waitress handed it back with a wink. “Our bartender can mix you any drink without looking it up. You name a drink he can’t produce and it’s on the house.”
Missy glanced at the ceiling. She shouldn’t do this. Not with needing to keep control over her body around Tad.
“What are you up to?” Tad teased with a squeeze to her shoulder.
Electrical lust shot through her and her mouth went dry. To hell with it. A challenge was a challenge and she could use a stiff drink. She smiled at the waitress.
“I’d like a Skip and Go Naked please.”
Tad choked.
The waitress winked at her. “No problem, sweetheart. Tad, what’ll it be for you tonight?”
“Rum and Coke, please.”
The waitress left and Missy watched as she made her way back to the bar. She put in their orders and the bartender’s head flicked in their direction. He lifted a hand and pointed at her, shaking his finger.
“What’s a Skip and Go Naked, other than something that causes my heart to do double time?” Tad slipped his fingers over hers and Missy’s mind drifted. She was supposed to concentrate on…something. Tad’s beautiful brown eyes stared at her like she was the main dish at an all-you-can-eat dessert bar. Time slowed as she fell into the depths of his gaze. She leaned closer, his mouth inches away. If he’d ease a little more in her direction she be able to—
“You tried to trick me with that one.” The bartender stood in front of them, a pale pink concoction in his hand. Missy made herself smile instead of baring her teeth at the man.
Her hormones were becoming a serious issue tonight.
“You thought if you missed the ‘Hop’ I wouldn’t know it. Hmmm? Well, you’ve got yourself one Skip and Go Naked. I left out the grenadine ’cause I figured that must be the hop.”
Missy forced a laugh as she accepted the glass. “Actually, I’ve never heard of the Hop part. I’m glad you knew how to m
ake one. It’s been a long time. Thank you.”
He kissed her hand and strutted back to his bar, king of all he surveyed. Missy took a short sip of the sweet drink before glancing at Tad. His eyes were dark, his face intense as he glared after the bartender. Missy frowned. “Tad? You okay?”
Tad shook his head like he was in a daze. “Sorry about that. I don’t like how that fellow leers and touches everyone.” He threw back half his drink and stood. “Come on, let’s dance.” He pulled her into his arms and Missy’s vocal cords seized up. Tad folded her into him like a pillow into a slip. Every part of him nestled warm and smooth around her, solid and strong in all the right places. Warmth radiated from his core, and Missy concentrated on breathing in a slow, even rhythm. Hyperventilating on the dance floor. Wonder if anyone ever called the ambulance for that one?
Missy laid her head against Tad’s chest and listened to his heartbeat. She was short enough that even with her high heels, his chin rested on top of her head, his arms reaching down to support her. She draped her hands around him, twining her fingers into the hair at his neckline. Tad hummed with pleasure.
As they swayed together to the bluesy music, Missy wondered if what she felt was possible. An untriggered male and a runaway Omega wolf, there was a strange combination. She closed her eyes and relaxed the tight reins she’d been keeping on herself. Tad dropped his hands and ran them over her back, down her hips, snuggling her tighter against his body, a rock-hard ridge pressing into her belly. The scent of his arousal wafted by on the air and she gasped back a groan. She wanted to taste so badly.
It was too much to continue to resist. Every nerve in her body screamed for him and she lost control. One flavour denied, she took the pleasure she could reach. Missy locked her fingers together, drew his mouth down and suckled his tongue. No gentle introduction, no soft finesse or enticement. Simple and hard desire drove her, his taste not even taking the edge off her need.
She slipped one leg on either side of his, pressed her heated core into his thigh with the thought that some release would be better than none. Tad seemed to read her mind. He feasted on her mouth like a starving man while he danced them into the shadows at the edge of the floor, away from any curious onlookers.