Grayslake: More than Mated: Dirty Lion Bastard (Kindle Worlds Novella) Read online

  Chapter Two

  Stray Cats played loudly as Shane walked into the Pitch & Paw just in time to see a curvaceous beauty take down a much larger man in a move so swift, he could hardly believe his eyes. His first instinct had been to jump in and rip the man apart. In other words, come to her rescue. But wow, she was certainly no damsel in distress. For someone so short, she carried herself like a warrior, and his lion rushed to surface to get a better look.

  Goddamn, she made Shane’s blood sing! The lion roared his agreement. She’d turned his way without really seeing him, and Shane was captivated by her grass-green eyes. He’d never seen that color in any human. Not without the aid of colored contacts. Her apple cheeks held a flush of triumph as a small smile raised the corners of her plump and kissable bow lips. A warm rush tingled through him. He had to meet her. He would challenge his father in the morning, but tonight, he and his lion found, for the first time in fifteen months, they were interested in something more than revenge.

  Terrence Jensen had warned him to avoid the Redby Pack. Reid Bennet was an honorable man, but his wolf consistently wanted to challenge dominant males that came in their vicinity. Shane had checked in with Ty Abrams, the Grayslake Itan. His wife, like Shane’s mom, was a human. The fact that it was an accepted practice by shifters to take a human mate if it was fated still burned his ass. It made his father’s abandonment all that much worse.

  But the woman, now with her back to him—and damn, what a fantastic view of her well-shaped ass—felt like cool rain over his fiery rage. Men wrote sonnets for females like her, they fought wars to protect them, and they moved mountains to make them happy. Shane wondered if there happen to be any mountains nearby.

  Tomorrow, he would face a Rex—a man who’d spent his entire life defending his position. Shane didn’t care too much about the leadership issues. He just wanted to rip apart the shifter that ruined his mother’s life. He’d sink his claws into Matthew Pierce, even it if meant Shane would never see another day.

  But that was tomorrow. Tonight, he would give his eyeteeth for one moment of real happiness. It had been a while for Shane, almost two years since his last date, but flirting was like riding a bike. Right? When her eyes had brightened, her skin had taken on an orange hue, so he assumed she was a tiger shifter like the two women who’d backed her up. Would she be a tiger in the sack? He smiled at the thought. He certainly hoped so.

  ****

  A tap on Scottie’s shoulder had her jumping at the unexpected touch. She turned, ready to go into take-down mode again, but the tall man’s golden amber eyes stunned her into inaction. His smile thinned his lush lips and crinkled the corners of his startling eyes.

  He held up his hands in surrender. “I just want to order some drinks.”

  “You think I look like the help?” Irrationally, the handsy jaguar shifter had made her feel defensive.

  The guy pointed to her chest, and Scottie blushed. She usually didn’t give to shakes of a possum’s ass what anyone thought about her weight or size, a plump five-foot-five-inches at one-hundred and eighty-five pounds, but this newcomer made her self-conscious.

  “Your shirt says Pitch & Paw on it. I assumed you worked here.”

  Of course, he’d been looking at her shirt. A guy like that, broadly built chest and the slender hips of an Olympic swimmer, wouldn’t be looking at her or her boobs. He probably had a whole slew of women falling all over themselves to get him back home. Wherever home was. Which was just fine with Scottie, since she wasn’t interested in starting something with a guy who’d probably want to keep her barefoot and pregnant. Even if he was interested.

  Scottie sighed. “What can I get you?”

  “Can I get a beer and two shots of bourbon?”

  “Starting heavy, eh?”

  “Liquid courage,” he said.

  “And what are you trying to find the courage to do?”

  “You.”

  His response sent a zippy-tingle through Scottie, and her nipples hardened and pointed at him like two divining rods finding treasure.

  The guy laughed. “Easy, kitten. I’m trying to track a relative who lives sixty-some-odd miles from here.”

  His drawl was slight, not deep south, like someone from Alabama or Georgia. “Where you from, mister?”

  “Shane,” he said.

  “Where’s that?”

  He chuckled.

  Scottie’s lower bits clenched and her belly warmed.

  Tall, Dark, and Thirsty shook his head. “My name is Shane. I’m from Dallas.” He smirked. “You know, in Texas.”

  Shane, Shane, Shane, Shane. A man so hot, he’ll drive you insane. She let slip a hint of a smile at her internal rhyme.

  Shane notice. “You have a pretty smile.”

  Was he flirting with her?

  “I have drinks for you, Scottie!” Tig yelled from the bar. “Come on, girl. Beers are getting warm.”

  About seven bar regulars yelled back, “And no one likes warm beer!” ending with fists pounding on the tables and feet stomping on the floor. Some drunk had hollered it back several years ago, and it had become a bar ritual over the years.

  “Scottie, huh?”

  Scottie hated the girlish flutter that settled in her belly when he said her name. Worse, she knew by the raised brows nearby that her scent must have done a major swing from annoyance to lust. Gah! Being surrounded by shifters all the time sucked. Privacy was non-existent, especially when every mood was showcased like an updated high-definition version of Smell-O-Vision.

  “Those beers aren’t the only thing getting warm, kitten.” His lip curled, and Scottie resisted the urge to grab a handful of his hair and yank him down so she could bite him. Hard.

  “Just you never mind,” she said when she could form a complete sentence. “I’ll be back with your order in a few minutes.”

  Shane’s nostrils flared, and he grinned. “Can’t wait.”

  The last thing Scottie saw before she fled his general vicinity was a satisfied smirk. What a jerk. There was nothing worse than a good-looking guy who thought he was hot shit. She rolled her eyes at the bar and grabbed the tray of drinks. The glasses clinked together sloshing the beer over the edges.

  “Ease up, baby,” her aunt said. “You okay?”

  “Yes. No.” She set down the tray and shook her head. “I’m fine.”

  “So is that man over there eyeing you hard.”

  “Tig!” Scottie shook her head. “He’s messing with me.”

  “Oh, honey, I can tell from waaaaay over here that the man thinks you’re sexy as hell.” She winked. “And from just a few feet away, it’s very easy to tell that you think he’s majorly doable.”

  Scottie smacked her aunt on the arm. “I’m not going to be one-night entertainment for an arrogant shifter just passing through the area.”

  “Your loss,” Tig said. She cupped her niece under the chin. “You know I only want you to be happy. Your mom has made you too uptight.”

  Scottie ignored the remark about her mom. For sisters, Lin and Tig Monroe were opposite ends of the coin. Her mother stayed away from the customers. She preferred to handle the business side of the bar and motel. But Tig, even with Tony around, relished the attention.

  Scottie held up two fingers. “I need a draft and two shots of bourbon.”

  “With a barmaid on the side?”

  “Control yourself,” Scottie said.

  “Loosen up, kitten,” Tig replied with a knowing smile.

  Scottie grabbed the tray of drinks from the bar again and fled before Tig could add more. Jesus. It was turning into a night of running away.

  Chapter Three

  The more Shane watched Scottie, the more he wanted her. His blood pulsed with the need to possess her. Every time she glanced his way, her lightly bronzed skin pinked up with a blush that made him want to strip her naked and ravish her right in the middle of the crowd. Her sumptuous curves made his stomach dip and his cock hard. Earlier, when he’d gotten near eno
ugh to tap her shoulder, the strong scent of booze and shifters faded until all he could smell was her earthiness—a combination of jasmine and ripe oranges. Fresh, sweet, and sexy as fuck.

  And the moment his fingers had grazed her shoulder, damn, it was as if someone rang the Mine! gong in his head.

  Shit, what’s wrong with me?

  He wanted her like he wanted the girl next door when he’d been a horny, post-pubescent teenage virgin. Only a thousand times more intense. It had been a long time since high school, and he’d been with many women since his first time, but as he stared at Scottie, his beast wanted her to be the last.

  If he got himself killed tomorrow, his beast might get his wish. That is if Scottie could be seduced. He could tell that he turned her on. He was keenly aware of her body’s reactions, from the hardening of her nipples to the sweet musk of her desire. Would she want more than he could offer? He couldn’t give her a lifetime, but he could give her a single night of passion.

  He wanted to keep his mind and gaze off Scottie, but it was impossible. When she bent over to pick up a napkin that had fallen from her tray, Shane’s mouth watered as he unabashedly stared at the two round globes of deliciousness. God! He wanted to sink his teeth into that ass. Well, more than his teeth. The more he watched, the more he tried to convince himself that he could keep their night casual. He’d had lots of one-night stands. This would be more of the same. Right? His body agreed readily, even if his heart argued that this woman deserved more. She deserved everything.

  Scottie returned to the bar and grabbed the tray with one beer and two shots. Shane’s order. He clenched his fists to control his racing heart. His claws slipped forward, digging into his palms. The pain was a welcome relief to the desire pulsing in his veins. If he were a smart man, he’d get up and leave. Immediately.

  Scottie sashayed over to his table, her wide, seductive hips swinging back and forth with each step. Shane’s erection pressed painfully hard against the seam of his jeans.

  He was not a smart man.

  “Hi,” she said. The corners of her mouth dipped down, creating a sexy pout. Shane was ninety-nine percent certain the side effect of making his dick throb was entirely unintentional.

  She set down the beer and pushed the two shots next to the tall, frosted glass.

  “Thanks,” Shane said, swallowing the knot in his throat as he imagined bending her over and fucking her until she screamed his name and begged for more.

  “That’ll be fifteen-fifty. Six for the beer and five and a quarter for each shot.”

  He lifted his hip, an uncomfortable feat thanks to his raging hard-on, and pulled out his wallet. He plucked a twenty-dollar bill. “Do you have any rooms available?”

  She blushed again, and her scent of jasmine and oranges took on the headier, earthier fragrance of lust. Goddamn, she wanted him too. Her green eyes glowed almost iridescently as she licked her lips.

  His lips tugged into a grin. “Something with a bed big enough for two.”

  Scottie swiped the twenty off the table, and without a word, she hurried away. The sight of her coming or going had him fantasizing about coming and coming.

  One night, he reminded himself. A last meal, so to speak, since he probably wouldn’t live past tomorrow.

  ****

  “I can’t go back over there,” Scottie said.

  “Did you at least get his name?”

  “Shane.”

  “Well, there is nothing wrong with occasionally getting your bell rung, and that man looks like he’d be a prize-winning ringer.”

  “A one-night-stand with a lion shifter? No, thank you.” The only thing she knew about lion shifters were what Tig and Lin had told her about the Leone Pride. Her mom and aunt had been born there when Rex Solomon Walker had been in charge. When her mom fell in love with a human, Solomon killed him and banished Lin from the Pride.

  Scottie had been a newborn at the time. Solomon was a lion shifter who believed in the purity of the races, and that women should defer and obey their men in all things. In other words, he was a misogynistic, racist twat. While Shane didn’t seem like a racist, after all, he was in a room full of mixed shifters, did Scottie really want to chance that he didn’t believe the same archaic notions about women?

  Tig patted Scottie’s cheek. “Not all men are like the ones your mom, and I grew up with.” She looked wistfully at Tony and then smiled. “Your mother has never regretted you, Scotia. Not for one single second.”

  “I don’t like the way the guy makes me feel,” Scottie said. “I feel…soft.”

  Tig put her hand on Scottie’s. “I know I’ve told you this before, but it bears repeating. You should never be ashamed of your desires. Sex can be two things. It can be an expression of love, or it can be an expression of pleasure. If you’re lucky, it can be both, but either way, it’s a beautiful thing to take joy in your body.”

  “Can we change the subject, please?”

  “Sure.” Tig smiled, mischievousness brightening her pale green eyes. “Hey, you!” she shouted across the room, her voice carrying over a slow-playing country song. “Yeah, you cutie.” She pointed to Shane. “Get your sweet ass over here.”

  “Oh, God.” Scottie, mortified by her aunt’s big brass balls, diagramed an escape route in her head. “What are you doing?”

  “You like this boy.” She raised a brow when all six-foot-five inches of Shane stood up. “By the looks of things, he likes you right back.”

  Holy shit. He had a bulge in his jeans that both scared Scottie and mesmerized her. She took off her apron. “I’m outta here. Get Tony to bus tables because I’m gone.”

  Tig grabbed Scottie by the back of her shirt. “Hold up, baby. I’m not saying you need to start planning the wedding, but you aren’t ever going to find a mate if you don’t give a man a chance.”

  “This guy is from Dallas, Texas. He is passing through, not looking for a mate,” Scottie hissed.

  “Tony was just passing through, too.” Tig cast a fond glance across the room at the wolf shifter. “Fourteen years ago.”

  Scottie tried to tug away again, but her aunt held her in place until Shane got to the bar.

  “Hi,” he said.

  Tig let go of the shirt, and Scottie tumbled into Shane’s big, strong, strapping, muscular… Gah! She pushed herself away before she started squeezing his biceps.

  “Hey,” Scottie said. She couldn’t look him in the eyes, mostly because her gaze kept tracking farther south. Christ on a cracker, the man could pole vault across the room with that thing.

  “You’re from Dallas?” Tig asked.

  “Yep,” Shane said.

  “No Pride affiliation?”

  Scottie could see he didn’t want to talk about where he was from. If anyone should know how that felt it was Tig. “Let him be, Tig. You’re making him uneasy.”

  “Being near you is making me uneasy,” Shane said. “You are beautiful.” He reached out to her, his fingers grazing her cheek for split second. “If you don’t mind me saying so.”

  “Hell no, she doesn’t mind,” Tig said. “It just means you got good taste.”

  “I don’t need a pimp, Auntie Tig.” Scottie gave her aunt a pointed look. This was moving past embarrassing to mortifying.

  Tig laughed. “I don’t remember anyone talking about money.” After a few seconds of awkward silence, Tig threw her hands up. “Fine, I got customers anyways.” She turned on her heel and headed down to the opposite end of the bar.

  Shane’s gaze on her intensified. “I mean it, you know.”

  “What?”

  “That you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  He had to be messing with her. “For a big girl,” she quipped, borrowing a line from the drunken groping jaguar.

  He shook his head. “For anyone.”

  “You need to get out more, Shane.”

  “I am doing that right now, Scottie.” He leaned forward and put his elbow on the bar. “All I can think abo
ut since the moment I walked into this place is how much I want to lick and nibble every gorgeous inch of you.”

  Scottie’s pussy thrombed in a steady, hard pulse. “I don’t date customers,” was all she could manage in reply, but Lord All Mighty, she was having some very erotic visuals of Shane’s sensually wide lips on her heated skin.

  He leaned in closer and stroked the dimple in her chin with his thumb. “About that room?”

  Hot damn, the man smelled like raspberries. She resisted the urge to move closer and sniff his hair. Her lips and throat were dry as she spoke. “We have one room available. Room seven. The price is eighty-five bucks, but that includes free Wi-fi, satellite TV, and a full breakfast in the morning.”

  “And about the company?”

  “That is not one of the amenities.” Scottie scooted around Shane, her arm brushing against him, her skin alighting with goosebumps, as she walked behind the bar to the cash register. She rang up his room. “Eight-five even.”

  Shane got his wallet again and pulled out five twenties. “Can I get a bottle of bourbon to go?”

  “Sure.” Scottie grabbed a cheap, dusty bottle from the bottom shelf of the liquor cabinets. She wiped down the glass. Some of the loose dust got in her nose, and she sneezed.

  “That’s adorable,” Shane said.

  Scottie’s body reacted to his flirting, and she silently cussed her lady bits for being so freaking obvious. Whether she was attracted to the guy or not, it sucked to have her hormones shouting, I’m so horny! from the rafters.

  Chapter Four

  Shane rubbed his groin as he walked out to his truck in an attempt to tame his Scottie-induced erection. Jesus, she had him losing his mind. He hadn’t come all the way from Texas to get distracted by a woman. He pulled the truck around back to the motel and parked in front of room number seven.

  The motel wasn’t much, but it looked clean and well kept. The room consisted of one queen-sized bed, a dresser, a nightstand, and a small table with two chairs near the window. A mid-sized flat screen television was mounted on the wall. On the nightstand, a little card offered, “TV Remote in the top drawer of the bedside table. WiFi Password: PitchPaw + room number.”