Bar Mate
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Bar Mate
Copyright © 2012 by Rebecca Royce
ISBN: 978-1-61333-242-9
Cover art by Fiona Jayde
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
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Other Stories in the Shifters and Bikers Series
Unwanted Mate
Mate By the Music
Out of Place Mate
Also by Rebecca Royce
Another Chance
Behind the Scenes
Driven
Embraced
Eye Contact
I’ll Be Mated for Christmas
A 1Night Stand Story
One Night With a Wolf
A 1Night Stand Story
Bar Mate
The Edge
by
Rebecca Royce
Bar Mate
Yvette Nelson swung the door behind her, leaving the coarse jokes and steam of the back of the kitchen for the loud music and swearing in the dining room. She rolled her eyes. Men were men wherever she went and all of them bored her to death.
She set a plate of nachos in front of one of her regular customers, smiled, and moved on. There were drink orders to take and busboys to hassle. No time to rest for the weary. Not that she felt tired, at least not physically. Wolf-shifters could go for days without sleeping. She bit her lip to keep from scowling as she narrowly avoided a collision with a drunk trying to get to the bathroom.
Maybe the time has come to leave this job
.
Tingles on her spine told her someone stared hard at her. Eyes bore into the back of her head and she turned, expecting to be yelled at by a customer feeling neglected. Instead, across the dimly lit room she saw the most intense green eyes on the hottest human she’d viewed in a long time. Blond hair fell around his shoulders, green eyes—oh yes, she wanted to fuck him, rub against him, mark him with her scent.
Pretending to rub her nose, she took a sniff of the air. She couldn’t be too careful. Too many people wanted to hurt shifters these days to prove they were big and tough by destroying what they didn’t understand. Most of her customers didn’t know the establishment consisted of shifters, all the way from the owner to the cleaning staff. Many folks thought Gunther’s just a biker bar. Yvette preferred it to stay that way.
Her sniff told her two things. The man, as she thought, had no shifter in him. Only good-old most-of-the-time, boring, human blood. He moved in his seat, and she got a look at his long legs clad in black leather. His feet, adorned in stylish, mid-calf leather boots, their sleek design only scuffed a little bit, told her they’d been a recent buy. They also weren’t cheap. Not that she cared. Money, like everything else lately, bored the hell out of her.
His black T-shirt, with white lettering that spelled out something called
Morrisey’s
, stuck half-tucked into his pants. The back of his chair held a leather jacket, and a motorcycle helmet stared at him from across the table.
She set her tray on the counter, her panties creaming at the sight of him. She squirmed behind the bar wanting relief for the ache already starting between her thighs. It had been a long time—too long—since she’d had that reaction to a man. She had no intention of wasting the experience. With a quick glance to Gunther, owner and tender of the bar—aptly named for him—she walked decisively toward Green Eyes across the room. Someone else waited on him, which suited her just fine. She’d decided to take a break.
“Up.” She stared down at him, extending her hand in his direction. “Come with me.”
He looked at her hand like she’d spoken a foreign language. Hell, she’d not considered he could be foreign. This could be bad.
He opened and closed his mouth before he spoke. “What?”
“Come. With. Me.” Self-confidence had never been a problem for her, but the command pushed things a little further than she usually went. Oh well, she only got one try at this crazy life. Sex with strangers might be a little slutty, but she suspected it wouldn’t be the worst thing she’d do in her life.
He stood. “Do you need help with something?”
“You checked me out from across the room.” She didn’t phrase her statement as a question.
“I did.” His cheeks reddened. Had she embarrassed him? She hoped not. She had plans for the evening that didn’t include handholding a man through meaningless sex.
“Married? Engaged? Taken? Gay?”
He smiled, stretching his arms behind him. “No.”
“Good. Then come.” She took his hand, pulling him with her. Gunther didn’t currently require his office. He hardly ever used it. All of his attention lately, had been focused on getting his finally-on-board mate in bed all the time.
The biker’s fingers felt surprisingly rough against hers. She hadn’t thought of him as having tough hands. Oh well. The night proved full of surprises.
He smelled like leather, sweat, smoke on a cool breeze, and Dial soap. Who knew she liked such a combination? Her heart beat fast in her chest and her mouth watered.
They entered the office. As proof of how little time Gunther spent in the room, the desk was bare, not so much as a piece of paper sat on top. She grinned. Perfect for the quick fuck she had in mind.
Closing the door behind her, she looked up at him, his gaze staring back, filled with a combination of heated desire and wary tension.
“Who are you?” His voice held a rasp to it that shot shivers up her spine.
She covered his mouth with her hand. “No names, Green Eyes. You wanted me out there. You want me now. So we’ll fuck and then you can get back on whatever bike you rolled in on and I’ll go serve some drinks to the crowd.”
His wariness evaporated and he pulled her tight up against him. His hard cock pushed against the leather of his jeans and into her. She squirmed with the feel of it, wanting him to get her naked as quickly as possible. “You want me to take you right here in this office, with people out there waiting for their food and drink?”
“No, I want you to fuck me. Not take me. Not make love. Fuck. Fast. Because right now, I want you like I want to breathe.”
He put his nose close to hers, a heartbeat away from kissing her and her mouth watered. “What kind of shifter are you?”
She jolted backward. “How did you know?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got nothing to fear from me. I think it’s fair to say I’ve spent a lot of time around shifters. Enough to be able to tell even when someone doesn’t want me to know.”
“I….”
He grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him. “I still want to—how did you so charmingly put it—fuck. Are you going to tease me and then disappear, or are you going to make good on your promise to indoctrinate me into the world of public indecency?”
“To be indecent, someone else would have to see.” Her libido, which had vanished when he’d known about her being a shifter, revved back to life the second he touched her. Why did the man have that affect on her?
She rubbed her head against him, wanting him all over her. “You smell so good.”
He licked across the edge of her chin up to her ear. “That’s good to know. I shower regularly.”
“It’s more than that.” More primal, but at the moment she didn’t care to contemplate why.
“You smell good, too. Like strawberries.”
“My lipgloss.”
She pushed him backward until he sat on Gunther’s desk. Adjusting to fit between his legs, she ran her thigh against his erection.
“You’re going to kill me.”
“No.” She shook her head. “But I’m going to make you scream until it’s possible that every person out there in that loud bar hears you come.”
“Sounds like a challenge.”
He touched her breasts through her shirt. With his index finger and thumb, he pinched her nipples and her knees almost buckled.
Hell yes, that feels so fucking good. I might be the one who screams
.
“Beautiful lady, I don’t always play fair.”
Before she could digest what he said, he pulled her into his arms and changed their positions until she sat on the desk and he stood between her legs.
“I know you shifters like to dominate. But I’m not a weakling, and I won’t let you call all the shots. I’m in this room because you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen anywhere on this planet, and I promised myself, that one way or another, I’d get into your pants. You just hurried things up for me.” He kissed her hard. “I guess I should say ‘thank you.’”
Yvette hadn’t anticipated this turn of events. Her no-name, green-eyed guy had a steel backbone. She should be pissed off, sex had been her idea, her show to run and now he wanted to take some of the control from her. Except that she liked it. She more than liked it.
“If you don’t get your hands on me, I’m going to think you don’t want to, and maybe I’ll pleasure myself.”
“I’d like to watch that.” A strand of blond hair fell over his eyes and he pushed it away. “But not until I’ve had some of you first.”
He tugged at her shirt, opening the buttons one by one, then took off her bra and flung it upward. Landing on the ceiling fan above their heads, around and around it moved, and for a moment it transfixed Yvette.
“Hey.” Her head came back down to find him glaring. “Attention here, please.”
She glared back. “If you don’t want me distracted, don’t get my bra stuck on the fan.”
“I’m going to have to do a better job of keeping you with me.” He bent and took her nipple in his mouth.
She howled as the surge of sensation that overtook her. Worse, she wanted to shift, which had never happened before during sex.
He stroked the skin on her back with his free hand while he caressed and sucked her breasts with his other. She writhed as the slight burn from the stubble on his face drove her crazy.
He pulled back, his eyes travelling from her breasts to her eyes. “Are they real?”
“My boobs?”
He nodded.
“Shifters don’t get plastic surgery. So, yes, they’re real.”
“Then they are the most magnificent pair I’ve ever seen.”
She loved his words and couldn’t hold back the urge to get her hands on his skin any longer.
His tight T-shirt had shown her he had hard muscles beneath. It hadn’t, however, prepared her for what an Adonis he turned out to be. Really, her partner for the evening looked like he spent the day in the gym and did nothing but lift weights. And, his smooth, pale skin was unmarred by any tattoos, unusual for the guys who frequented Gunther’s bar.
“No ink?”
He shook his head. “No. Riding is more of a Zen thing for me. I like to keep my body pure.” Sucking in a deep breath, he caressed her cheeks. “Disappointed?”
“No, it just means I get to mark you up.”
His grin surprised her. “Really?”
She shrugged to hide her excitement at the thought. She didn’t want him to think her an animal, even though she, technically, could be considered one. It seemed ridiculous, but the sensitive spark in his eyes had moved her. Suddenly she cared what he thought of her, which just proved what a complete idiot she could be.
He’d lost her again. Stark Quade couldn’t understand why the raven-haired beauty, who had just made his entire year by bringing him into the office to have her way with him, kept drifting out of their moment. She clearly had a hard time paying attention for long spurts. Perhaps her animal inside had a lot in common with his dog. Canines liked to play and then lost attention. Well, Stark didn’t get ignored, not when he wanted something and, God, he wanted her.
He yanked on her pants and she gasped. “I have to have you naked. I have to taste you.” Her dark brown eyes dilated. “Do you like that?”
She nodded. Had she suddenly gone mute? With another tug, he’d removed her black pants and thrown them onto the floor. His fingers rubbed over her pussy through her undies. “You like that? You like me throwing your clothes around? Touching you there?”
