MAN TO MAN by Stormy Glenn


 

Donovan froze as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up at the deep raspy voice coming from the other room. His cock had gone so hard, he was afraid it was going to break through his jeans.

Who the hell was it coming through the door and why was he having such an intense reaction? He had never experienced anything like this in his life, not from any girl he had ever dated or any girl he had ever slept with. So, why this voice?

Donovan watched as pair of long legs encased in tight blue jeans came into his line of sight. He lifted his head slowly, moving up past the thick muscular thighs. His eyes paused at the tight bulge that said the other man was having nearly the same reaction as he was before moving on up past the flat stomach and nicely chiseled chest to a square jaw.

But it was the man’s smoky, gray eyes that held Donovan spellbound. One look and Donovan knew he was hooked. Hell, he was obsessed. He was looking into the eyes of his future, his mate—and he was a man.

How fucked up was that? Fate had mated him to another man. Donovan had meant it when he said that he had no problem with Maryann’s son being mated to another man, but him? That was another story.

He’d never even been with a man. He wouldn’t know the first thing to do with one if he did have him in bed. He had only been with women. Guess that was about to change. Now that he had found his mate, anyone else was off limits.

“Oh, James, you made it. Any word?” Maryann asked as she quickly got to her feet and went over to hug her son.

Donovan got to his feet also, having been taught manners by his mother. However, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of the man in Maryann’s arms. For some reason he couldn’t fathom, he wanted it to be his arms the man was in. How weird was that?

“This is my son, James,” Maryann said as she introduced them. “This is Chase and Donovan Morgan from the Shasta Pack. Their alpha sent them down here to help us keep Nate safe.”

“I’m Chase.” Donovan watched Chase reach out and shake James’s hand, quickly suppressing the possessive growl building in his throat. It wouldn’t do to show his hand before he had a chance to talk to the man.

When James turned his gaze to Donovan, he felt a hundred butterflies take flight in his stomach. This was his mate. He was about to touch his mate for the very first time. He could barely keep his hand from trembling as he held it out.

“I’m Donovan. Donovan Morgan,” he said, hoping that his voice sounded steady to the others in the room. He knew from the slight widening of James’s eyes that he had heard the deep drop in his voice.

“James. James Nash, but you can call me Jim,” he said just as he took Donovan’s hand.

Donovan’s hand did start to tremble the moment Jim’s warm skin touched his. Did he feel the bond that was instantly forming between them? Was he as confused by it as Donovan was?

“Jim,” Donovan replied, nodding his head. He held his hand a moment longer, looking deep into Jim’s smoky gray eyes before reluctantly releasing it. He didn’t want to let him go, but he knew he had to. He could see Chase was beginning to look at him strangely out of the corner of his eye.

“Can I use your bathroom?” Donovan asked, tearing his eyes away from Jim to look over at Maryann.

“I’ll show you where it is,” Jim said quickly, stepping out of his mother’s arms to lead the way.

Donovan followed behind him, his eyes dropping to the rounded ass walking in front of him. Damn! If he was going to have to be mated to a man at least it was a man with a nice ass. He had always had a thing for tight asses and the one in front of him seemed to be very tight.

When Jim opened a door and walked in, Donovan was surprised until he realized that it was a study and not the bathroom. He followed him in, shutting the door behind him, watching as Jim walked over to a small wooden cabinet and quickly poured two small drinks. He grabbed them, turning to hand one to Donovan before drinking his down.

Setting the glass back down on the counter he stared at Donovan intently for several moments before shaking his head, an amused chuckle broke through his lips. “While I prefer men, I’m not out of the closet,” he said.

“I’m not gay,” Donovan replied, quickly drinking down the brown liquid in his glass.

“Well, it looks like that is about to change for both of us,” Jim laughed nervously.

BOILING POINT by Tymber Dalton


 

Lina studied Jan Alexandr. Okay, this guy was a cutie even if he acted like he was a few brain cells short of an IQ topping his shoe size. He had to be at least six-four, wider through his shoulders than she was in her ass. His grip had felt firm and comfortably cool.

“What did you say your name was?” he asked.

She sat back in her chair. “My full name’s Pavlina Zaria, but everyone calls me Lina.” He looked a little stunned. “Are you all right? Would you like me to get you some water or something?”

He shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m fine. Pavlina, that’s beautiful.”

She snorted in disgust. “My father’s genes and apparently unintentional sense of humor. It means—”

“I know what it means. It means small. I still say it’s beautiful. I think it suits you.”

She felt the blush creep into her cheeks. “How did you know what it means?”

Jan smiled. “My family hails from eastern Europe.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m anything but small.”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

She blushed more deeply. “I think we’re straying from the subject, Mr. Alexandr.”

Jan heard the edge in her voice. He’d pushed her too hard. “Zaria is also a beautiful name.”

“Did you bring sketches of what you have in mind for your house?”

He met her gaze and finally nodded. “Yes. I brought them.” He hoped she couldn’t see how his hands trembled as he opened his portfolio. He handed the papers over and realized it was impossible for him to keep his eyes off her face as she looked everything over.

Zaria. Son of a bitch.

It was her.

Lina looked up and frowned. Jan Alexandr still looked like something was bothering him. “Are you sure you’re all right?” Jesus, she hoped he didn’t keel over in her office. That would really suck. Although she wouldn’t mind doing a little mouth-to-mouth on him.

Of course, she was sure he would mind.

“I’m fine. As you can see, my brother and I have some very specific requirements.”

She nodded. “That’s no problem. This looks like a large property.”

“We like our privacy.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a writer. Novels. My brother is taking a sabbatical for a little while. He’s a travel writer.”

“Oh, that’s interesting.” She felt his eyes never leave her. Did he find her so grotesque that he couldn’t stop staring?

She was about to ask another question when Edgar tapped on her door and opened it. “Hey, Lina! I made it back after all.”

She felt both relieved and irritated. Relief that Jan Alexandr wouldn’t be staring at her anymore.

Irritation that she couldn’t stare at him. He was a handsome hunk of man.

“Mr. Alexandr, this is Edgar Callaway.” Edgar strode over and shook hands. Was that irritation she spotted on their client’s face?

“Nice to meet you,” Alexandr said.

“I’ll take over from here, Lina. I know you wanted to get out early.”

“Thanks, Edgar.” Another quirk. Edgar always tried to be considerate. She quickly gathered up the paperwork and handed it to Edgar.

Jan Alexandr’s mind raced, desperate to stay with Lina. Shit! He tried to make an excuse, anything that wouldn’t sound totally bullshit, to stay there with her. “If you’re busy, Mr. Callaway, I don’t mind dealing with Ms. Zaria.”

“My girl’s been running herself ragged this week. She’s earned an early afternoon.” He indicated the door. “Why don’t we go to my office?”

Jan felt a wave of irritation at Callaway’s term of endearment for Lina. He reluctantly stood, and turned to Lina. “It was a pleasure meeting you.” He extended his hand across the desk. After a brief hesitation, she shook with him.

Lina noticed again that his skin felt cool. Not clammy or damp, like a dead fish, but like the kind of guy you wanted sitting next to you on a hot day. “Thank you, Mr. Alexandr.”

“Jan,” he insisted.

“Jan.”

Alexandr closed the door behind him. Lina let out a huge sigh of relief at his departure. He had gorgeous ice blue eyes. No doubt he also had a skinny, big-boobed cutie who hung off his arm despite lacking a wedding ring. Gorgeous guys had gals, as many as they wanted or needed.

He certainly wouldn’t want someone like her. Unless he was one of those evil fucks who liked to screw with a fat chick’s head for shits and giggles.

She shuddered. With her luck, that was probably it. Wouldn’t be the first time it had happened to her.

She quickly packed her stuff and skedaddled.

SWAN SONG by Blaze Ballantine


 

It was Friday night, late. My team had taken out a hostile were-jackal straight out of your darkest nightmare. Have you ever seen the jackals that guard Egyptian tombs? Not only do they look creepy, they arecreepy. Let one loose on the streets of Manhattan and see what happens. It’s not pretty. The city would be cleaning up for a while. The undertakers would be experiencing a profit.

Caton Lee, my teammate, ran his fingers through his perpetually spiked and disheveled hair. “Got any plans for the weekend, Beauty?”

Only Caton could get by with calling me Beauty. It was a nickname my dad has used since my birth. Caton got that privilege because he’d saved my parents from a werewolf attack when they still lived in Chicago. It’s how we met, and the reason I got into the PCU. He’d been a welcome guest at our home on many holidays since then, and now he served as my best friend, mentor, and occasional lover. We both saw other people once in a while, but with our work schedules there wasn’t anyone serious enough to consider staying faithful to. When the lonesome nights hit, we often kept each other company.

It would be hard to lose him. I was honest enough to admit that to myself. With his looks, he wouldn’t stay single forever. He had a sculptured face with high chiseled cheekbones, a firm sensual mouth and large almond-shaped eyes with lashes so dark and thick they should be illegal.

“Going to chill this weekend,” I said, watching the last of the stragglers leave the building. “I’m stopping by the grocery store for a bottle of wine and a frozen Italian dinner, you know, those kinds of meals in a bag?”

Caton looked at me with distaste. Being somewhat of a gourmet cook, he couldn’t stand meals in a bag. “Yuck.”

I laughed, expecting his reaction. “Don’t worry,” I soothed him. “I’m going to buy some garlic to mix in, and a nice loaf of cheese bread to bake.  That will make it taste more like homemade.”

Caton raised one eyebrow to let me know he didn’t think adding a little garlic would make it taste homemade. “Garlic, huh? At least I know you don’t have any hot dates with a vampire this weekend.” 

“The only hot date I have is my favorite television show. I’m going to watch all the episodes I’ve missed.”

Caton nodded, shrugging into his leather jacket. “Have a good one.”

“You too.” I pulled out my keys to lock up behind us. “Oh, and Caton, don’t call this weekend. I’m shutting off my phone and not answering the pager. If there’s a crisis, someone else can handle it. We’ve been on six straight weekends. It’s time for a break.”

“I sort of hoped for a little action this weekend, Beauty,” Caton answered with a wink, smiling enough to show his dimples.

Damn!

I can’t resist dimples.

I looked around the office. We were alone. I licked my lips suggestively and raised an eyebrow.

“How about a quickie?”

“In here?” Caton asked, looking around at the security cameras mounted in every corner of the room.

“Chicken!” I taunted him.

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want the best sex of your life,” I goaded him. “I’m serious, don’t call me this weekend. This is your chance, it’s now or never.”

He gave a low groan of frustration.

“What the hell’s got into you, Beauty? Not enough excitement today?”

I looked up at the cameras with a shrug. “I just thought it would be a turn-on to have sex in the office without getting caught.”

“Yeah, it would. The not getting caught part is easy. It’s the video that worries me,” Caton said, taking another look at the cameras. “I can see the PCU sex scandal all over the six o’clock news, with details to follow at eleven.”

“You’re right,” I said. “Bad idea. Chalk it up to a stressful day and the need for release.” I picked up my purse, watching him out of the corner of my eye.

“Don’t be in such a hurry. I didn’t say it was impossible.”

I hid a secret grin. Too easy.

He studied me for a minute before taking it a step further. “You willing to take the full chance?”

“Ohhh, it’s a challenge now, is it?”

“You’re damn right. I say we do it where there are no cameras.”

“That would be the bathroom or the showers,” I answered, but Caton shook his head.

“I’m thinking McFarland’s office.”

James McFarland, Director of Operations. To get any higher, you have to go to the White House.

“Now that is a death wish for our careers,” I protested. “I thought we’d pop in a supply closet, temporarily block the camera, and be gone before the guards could check it out.”

“Now who’s the chicken?”

“But you know McFarland’s liable to walk through those doors any second. He works 24/7.”

“Hey! You’re the one that wanted the thrill, Beauty. I’d settle for a long leisurely fuck in your bed.”

Against my better judgment, I looked over at the door to McFarland’s office. He had a sofa in there and a private bathroom. Caton had made this a challenge. I was betting the door to the director’s office would be locked and we couldn’t get in anyway, so I decided to call his bluff. “Sure, I’m game if you are.”

Caton gave me a smirk. “C’mon.”

Putting his hand around my wrist he half dragged me to the door like he thought I might bolt and run. I smiled at his tactic, still confident we couldn’t get inside the sacred territory of the director’s lair, but when the door swung inward I thought about faking a heart attack.

Caton laughed. “You didn’t think it would open, did you?”

I stiffened my shoulders so he couldn’t see my nervousness. “Sure, I knew it would open,” I lied, telling myself I’d started this and the disaster that was bound to follow would be all my fault.

Caton made an elaborate charade of checking his watch for the camera while heading for the appointment book the director kept on his otherwise spotless desk. Oh his way, Caton managed to clip the door with his foot, sending it into a slow close that hid most of the office from prying surveillance cameras.

“One hot babe, one spotless desk, one horny dude.” Caton said, pulling his coat off and tossing it across the director’s chair.

“Two ruined careers,” I muttered to myself, stroking the dark polished wood as I looked around the office.

“Are you going to be too nervous to enjoy this?” Caton asked, pulling the Ohio State hoodie he wore over his head and tossing it on top of his coat.

I gave a sigh of defeat. “Okay, you win. I’ll admit…I’m too nervous to enjoy a good fuck on the director’s desk.” I glared at him. “Does that make you happy?”

“Yeah, especially since I know he’s in Singapore for a week.”

Caton laughed at my string of curses, easily avoiding the punch I threw at him. He captured both of my hands, swept my feet out from under me and had me leaning face down over the desk before I could blink an eye. How in the hell did he always manage to do that? I could take anyone on the force but him. He was always faster than me and could seemingly read my mind as to what I’d do next.

“What a view,” he sighed, trailing his fingertips over my upturned ass. I heard the whisper of his zipper as he held me down with one hand in the center of my back while he yanked his jeans down with the other.

I felt both of his hands smooth over my hips, pulling my short skirt up to waist level above the lacy red thong I wore. I normally don’t dress in provocative clothes just to go home for a solitary weekend, but these were the only clean clothes I had left in my locker. A red silk t-shirt, short black skirt and a change of underwear.  Date clothes I kept on standby just in case I got lucky and had to meet someone after work. Yeah, like that would ever happen.

CLAIMING KRISTEN by Jenny Penn


 

Her heals clicked and clacked a rapid gunfire across the linoleum floor as she cut through the banks of registers and headed straight for the frozen food aisle. There was no time to be picky and her eyes cut darted between pre-made, boxed crap lining the cooler shelves in panicked frenzy.

Italian. Pasta, sauce and meat in one damn bag.

That was about as good as it was going to get. A frozen log of garlic bread might make the meal more palatable, but wine definitely would.

Dropping the both frozen delicacies into her basket, she paused only long enough to snatch a box of frozen waffles out another freezer door and grab a bottle of chocolate syrup off the end cap as she turned the corner into the beer and wine aisle.

The stately rows of bottles drew her into the shelves stacked with a seemingly endless variety. After today’s hectic schedule, she deserved to sit in a good soak in a tub with a large glass of wine.

Large glass of white wine.

Doesn’t go with Italian.

Get a different dinner.

Hmm. What would I get?

Is this going to take long?

It certainly can’t take long to cook. I’m hungry.

The hell with it, just get two bottles of wine.

Hey now, there is an idea.

At a distance she heard the harmony of deep male voices and the high pitched chatter of a female, but it didn’t really register. Her eyes glimmered with the possibilities as she studied the labels. She needed a strong red wine to help take the hard edge off. Then something soft and sweet to relax with while she let the warmth of her bath soak her through.

When she got out of the tub, there wouldn’t be a part of her that didn’t feel soft and pliant. It would be perfect. She’d curl up underneath the covers naked, keeping all that warmth tucked in around her. The only thing that would lull her into a peaceful slumber with more ease would be an orgasm.

Just a small one, an easy one. She could reach down with her own hand and rub her clit to release, but wouldn’t it be so much better to have a real man do it? Even as the thought whispered through her mind the unbidden images of some hard bodied male pressing into her, running his callused hands softly over her while his lips feathered kisses, she could almost feel him surrounding her with his heat.

Something prickled at her senses, the subconscious recognition that the air around her had warmed with a deep, masculine scent. Her shadow along the rows of bottles thickened and the click of her heels as she shifted on the linoleum floor was softened by the shift of another set of feet.

 None of it penetrated the static of the gathering fantasies entertaining her brain. They had her so roundly mesmerized that she could have stood there all night. She certainly didn’t have the willpower to break the spell that had woven its thick cocoon over her. She needed the helpful prod by an impatient person to get her moving.

“Hey, Kort, you got that damn beer yet?”

Kristen snapped back to the reality of her situation. She’d trespassed onto dangerous territory and forgotten it. The ramifications of that stared her in the face as she watched her shadow separate, becoming two for a moment before shifting back into one impossibly thick outline. Whirling around she stepped back to take in the sight of the man who had matched her stance with the perfection of a well seasoned hunter.

To match their size in the perspective of their shadows, he’d had to stand back. Now that she faced him, he stepped forward and she stepped back. The clinking tinks of the wine bottle swaying ever so slightly into each other told her that her second step back had been her last.

Cornered, Kristen could feel her heart begin to race over that realization as the male came to a silent stand-still, towering over her. Kristen swallowed hard as her head tipped back to keep eye contact with the man. She had to. Something inside her demanded it.

He had the most amazing eyes. They were whirling vortexes of green shards and blue lightning bolts. They trapped her gaze with their brilliant lighting show. As she watched they turned greener and greener, going pale and beginning to glow with internal heat that she could almost feel like a sensual breeze across her flesh.

The slight shift of air carried with it an odor that had her tensing as her blood heated, gaining speed as it rushed through her veins in a torrent that drove her heart rate from a simple pound to a tormented pace. She couldn’t catch her breath or even a thought as her body began to melt under the heat of his gaze.

She could feel her breasts tighten. Her nipples puckered painfully with the ache to be exposed, touched, mauled by those too perfect lips. God, the man was gorgeous. Bright eyes, dark hair, and hard features, but nothing compared to those lips. There was so much she wanted to do with those lips.

Those naughty, wonderful images began to pop through her mind again. Images of her naked with her hands buried in those soft, silky looking locks, directing his head and those lips over her body until her arms locked and she buried his head between her legs. Her pussy quivered with the first shocks waves of a mini-release.

She could almost feel his heated breath fanning across her cunt, that soft, devilish tongue stroking into her sheath, going faster, deeper, fucking into her, and twirling to hit that magical spot. Then those soft looking lips would close over her clit and suck, just a little kiss…

Kirsten gasped, her body going slack. The wine bottle slipped free and crashed onto the floor. Red liquid splattered across her ankles, her legs, and over the linoleum as a visible sign of her loss of control.

What the hell?

She’d actually climaxed, even if it was a very small one, right here in the middle of a public grocery store. Her eyes darted back up to the man who hadn’t flinched under the sudden chaos of the bottle shattering. No, the man smirked, a smug, knowing twist of the lips.