What the heck just happened?
Deke
I ride with Lance until we get to the mountain road that leads to the pack’s land. Then I gun my hog past the entrance. I’m not following him home like some little lost puppy.
I know my Alpha sent Lance to watch over me. I’m even okay with it. I have no business messing around with a civilian, especially one like Sadie. She’s outta my league in every way. Thinking about it makes me want to howl.
My bike speeds up the switchbacks. I take each turn faster and faster, imagining Sadie pressed into my back. My cock perks up, and I grit my teeth.
I pull off the road onto an overlook. Out here, the city lights mirror the carpet of stars above. I’d like to show Sadie this.
The peaceful quiet is shattered by a motorcycle zooming past. I stiffen then strip off my vest. I kick off my boots and shuck my jeans. I’m left in my white shirt, and I step behind my bike to hide my nudity.
The motorcycle comes roaring back down the road. It slows when it reaches the overlook and glides to a stop a few feet away. The rider pulls off his helmet.
It’s Channing. I knew it was him. He’s the only one of us who rides a neon green bike and not a real hog. He’s such a tool on his stupid crotch rocket.
“Deke, what the fuck? You know you can’t get too close to a human—”
I don’t give him any warning. I leap into the air and let my wolf rip out of me. The t-shirt shreds, tearing painfully on my twisted limbs. But I was always quick to shift.
By the time Channing knows what’s going on, I’ve leapt over my bike. He scrambles off his bike a second before two hundred plus pounds of black wolf hits him in the chest. We both go down—him and his crotch rocket, and me on him. He swipes at me, his hands changed to massive paws, but I jump off him and dance away.
“Fuck,” he shouts. “Motherfucker.” He rises, struggling to get free of his clothes. He sees his bike lying on its side, the shiny paint scratched on the road, and he gets even more stupid with rage. “You’re going to fucking pay for that.” His claws tear at his clothes. Stupid fucker’s gonna have to ride home naked. He’ll take it out of my hide. I had the element of surprise, but once he’s in wolf form, we’re pretty evenly matched. When he’s riled up, like now, he can tear me up.
Good.
A growl splits the air, and a giant white and brown wolf stalks stiff legged towards me. Channing the wolf lowers his belly almost to the ground, his ears back and teeth bared, ready to pounce.
I grin like a maniac and brace myself, waiting for pain.
Sadie
When I’m back in my apartment, I set down the untouched platter of cookies on the table and check my phone. I’ve got missed calls from Adele, Charlie and Tabitha. I sigh and dial Adele.
“Sadie!” She answers on the first ring. “Thank God. Are you home?”
“Yes.” I toss my keys onto my countertop. “Is everything okay?”
“We’re coming over. Be there in fifteen.” She hangs up.
Well, shoot. I hurry to put a few dirty dishes away in my sink and wipe a few coffee stains off my counter. Then I open a bottle of red wine, a blend Adele bought for me. After tonight, I need a glass of wine.
Who was that guy on the motorcycle? He was one of Deke’s friends, but he didn’t act like it. He totally cockblocked Deke. And me.
What’s the lady equivalent of cockblocking? Muffin Muzzle? Beaver Damned? Clit-erference? I’ll ask Tabitha, she’d know. Whatever the female equivalent of cockblocking, that dude Deke knew did it to me.
Did I really want to have sex up against a wall with Deke in a dark alley way?
Yes, my ovaries shout. Yes, we want his surly biker babies!
My ovaries were never so vocal when Scott was around, and Scott, by outward appearances, would have made a far more respectable father of my children. It’s so weird. I never would’ve said that tough-looking biker was my thing.
Never in a million years.
I slosh wine into a glass and take a gulp.
Adele knocks on the door, and when I open it, I realize who she meant by we. Adele tromps in, followed by Tabitha and Charlie.
“Oh, hello, everyone,” I say. “I have wine.”
“We brought extra,” Adele says. Both Charlie and Tabitha lift the bottles they’re holding. Adele heads straight for my small kitchen and makes herself at home, grabbing three more glasses and pouring wine for all. I let her take over—Adele’s a chef, so my kitchen is in good hands—and head to my cozy living room.