The Bear's Reluctant Wolf (3 page)

No, Candace wasn’t all about the too
alpha males who thought a woman should roll over and present herself just
because they told her to. Although Candace had tended to stick with safer guys,
ones who acted conservative, she was perfectly okay with that. It was
comfortable, and they matched well. Up until Chad she hadn’t been screwed over.
Her life had been easygoing, contented, and everything had just kind of fallen
into place. After graduating Sweet Water High she had gone to Clayton
University and gotten her bachelor’s in accounting. She had even been lucky
enough to do the books from home for a larger advertising firm based in the
city. Those kinds of jobs were far and few between, but she had lucked out. Her
house was in order, her clothes in their rightful place, and her life exactly
how she wanted it to be. Maybe she was uptight with a dash of OCD thrown in
there, but it had worked out for her this long, and that’s exactly how she
wanted it to stay. But then Chad had come along, and he had been the first fuck-up
in her life. And it had sucked.

The lion placed the margaritas in front
of them, with sugar around the rim even. He grunted again when Melissa made
some kind of joke about how good he had made it, sexual innuendos and all, and
turned to help another customer.

“I bet he is an animal in the sack.”
Candace didn’t have time to respond because Melissa was tugging on her arm to
follow her to one of the empty booths thick in biker territory. To her surprise
many of them were very respectful, excusing themselves so they could make their
way to the table, but she wasn’t naive enough to think all of them were like
that. Hell, the one they met outside was a good example of that. Candace
supposed bikers got a bad rap, what with their longer hair, beefy leather
wearing frames, and tattoos galore.

They slid into the booth, and she
settled back. A small dance floor was erected closer to the pool tables, and a
few couples moved to the Aerosmith song playing overhead. This wasn’t really
Candace’s scene, but it was definitely a place she saw Melissa going to.

“So, what do you think?” The waitress
came by and set a big basket of wings in front of them. The sauce that covered
them looked neon, and the word “hot” seemed like an understatement.

“Honestly?” Melissa took one of the
small plates and grabbed a few wings. She gave Candace a look that meant “duh”.
“It really isn’t my thing.”

“What, because it isn’t Applebee’s?”
Melissa grinned at her right before she brought a wing to her mouth and took a
bite.

“Bitch.”

Melissa grinned again through a
mouthful. “Kidding, but really, you need to get out of that little bubble you
live in. How long have I been trying to make you more outgoing?”

Too
long
.
“What can I say? I live a comfortable, safe, and boring life.” Melissa snorted,
but it was one part amusement and two parts seriousness because the hot wing
was too damn hot. That was evident by the redness that suddenly covered Melissa’s
face, and the fact her eyes started to water.
“Too hot?”
Candace smiled and watched Melissa reach for her drink and suck half of it
down.

“Shit,
those need
to come with a warning.”

“What do you expect when you order hot wings?”
Candace was laughing out loud now, but that laughter died when Melissa pushed
the wings in her direction.

“Go on, try one.”

“Hell no.”
She shook her head.

“What, scared? They’re really good, just
hot as a bitch.” Melissa had that wolfish grin in place, one that she wore
really well.

“I’m not scared. I just like my taste
buds, thank you.” They had a stare off, and Candace knew Melissa would keep
pestering her until she gave in. “Why am I so damn weak around you? I should
have more of a backbone.” She blew out a breath and picked up one of the wings.
“I feel like we are having a pissing contest, or like, measuring our dicks to
see whose is bigger.”

Melissa threw her head back and laughed.
“You’re freaking hilarious. Now quit stalling.”

Damn, the sauce even felt hot against
her fingers, and that had nothing to do with the temperature, but the
spiciness. Without thinking she shoved the thing in her mouth, at least
thankful they were boneless. At first Candace didn’t see what the big deal was,
but as the seconds passed and the hotness of the sauce coated every square inch
of her mouth, she realized she had just shoved the seventh level of hell into
her body.
 
Eyes watering and mouth
feeling on fire, Candace grabbed for her drink and guzzled the majority of it.
She sucked in a deep gasp, and went back for more of the cold liquid ambrosia.
Melissa lifted her hand to get the attention of the waitress, and gestured for
two more drinks.

“Good, huh?”
Candace glared at her friend, wanting to smack that damn grin from her face.
The waitress was back with fresh,
frigid
margaritas only minutes later. Candace grabbed for the one closest to her and
guzzled more than half of it. The alcohol in this one was even more potent than
the last, and that one had been pretty strong. She leaned back, sucked in a
lungful of air, and shook her head.

“Never again.”
Melissa was leisurely sipping on her new drink. “I mean it. I need to stop
listening to you.” They sat there for another ten minutes, and the sound of
both of them reaching the end of their drinks filled the air. “Those were good,
and the second was even better.”

“Yeah, because you’re getting
your buzz on.”
Melissa
lifted her eyebrows up and down. “Lonely Boy” by The Black Keys started playing,
and Melissa squealed. Of course they would play the one song Melissa just
had
to dance to. She was out of her
seat, and snatched up Candace mid-drink, dragging her to the dance floor.
Everyone else had wandered back to their tables, so of course they were the
center of attention.

“You said you wouldn’t do this.” Candace
gritted out through her teeth, but it didn’t really have any strength behind
it. Those two margaritas were already starting to make her loose. Melissa was
already dancing very suggestively, and it wasn’t lost on Candace that several
guys stopped what they were doing to watch. Melissa had her hands in hers and
started grinding herself against Candace. The alcohol was moving through her
veins at a quick pace, making her limbs feel like pudding, and having an
intense heat fill every part of her. It felt nice, and the normally rigidity
that Candace always felt slowly started to dissipate.

“That’s it, girl. Let’s have fun.”

Fun, something Candace had also kept
away from because of what? Because she was afraid her perfectly aligned life
would somehow get disrupted? She had taken a chance and gone after Chad, and
that had gone down the drain. But she couldn’t blame Chad for what happened. Failed
relationships because of infidelity happened all the time. But the one time she
had gone outside of the straight lines she had drawn around her life, she had
gotten burned. If she hadn’t always been so careful, so determined to make her
life that square peg that would fit into the square
hole
,
she wouldn’t have been shell-shocked over everything that was presented to her.
As she looked at Melissa, saw her dancing in a way that had the majority of the
male population in the bar looking at her like she was a goddess, Candace
realized she wanted to be that free. So, why not just push her hesitancy away
and go with the flow?

Closing her eyes and letting the liquid
courage help her relax, she started to sway to the music. Melissa had a hold of
her hands and squeezed them in encouragement. Candace didn’t need to open her
eyes to know her friend was smiling. They danced until a light sheen of sweat covered
her back, but it felt exhilarating and freeing. One song flowed to the next,
and still they swayed and moved like no one was watching. It felt good to not
let anything worry her. She had taken her ponytail down during the second song,
and her long hair now swung back and forth along her hips. A few guys had come
up and started dancing with them, and when she felt a human man wrap an arm
around her middle and pull her closer, she just went with it. A few minutes
passed, and she didn’t let the restrictions of how she had lived her life and
how she had closed herself in because she was afraid of getting hurt again,
dominate her actions tonight. Suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck stood
up, but she wouldn’t let her need for total control over her life drag her down.
Surely that was the prickling sensation that suddenly took over her entire body
as soon as this human slid his hands lower on her back. Her blood rushed
through her veins, and her pulse pounded in her ears. No, something else was
happening to her, and it was suddenly very apparent something was about to
happen.

Chapter Three

Trace came out of his office with a case
of liquor. He set the crate behind the bar and scanned the main floor. The
house was packed tonight and keeping Maverick busy behind the bar. Good, Trace
liked when he was too busy to let his thoughts wander, or to let his anger
fester inside of him like some kind of flesh eating disease.

“Tawny will be here in an hour.
You good?”

Maverick, the lion shifter bartender and
a damn good friend, lifted his chin to let him know he was. The lion turned and
poured a draft for a customer. Trace turned to leave, but with all of the chaos
in the bar, amidst the scent of sweat and alcohol, was the most intoxicating
aroma he had ever smelled. It was a mixture between peaches and cream, and his
cock was instantly hard. His polar bear rose up, snarled and clawed at him,
trying to break free. It didn’t take him long to know why he was having this
kind of reaction, and that had everything inside of him accelerating to a
dangerous level. Fuck, he had just found his mate.

His fucking mate.

He curled his fingers into his palms,
grappled for supremacy with the fucking animal inside of him, and scanned the
dimly lit room. The scent of her took away all of his human control, and right
now he felt wild and untamed. Everything in him stilled when he spotted her. It
was like she had a damn chain attached to his dick, and every time she swayed
her hips she tightened the slack and had the fucking thing getting even harder.
Shit, her skirt was too fucking short, and he knew every asshole in here was
staring at her body. He couldn’t even see her face, but there was no fucking
doubt in his mind that she was his. The scent of her was so powerfully strong
that he growled low in his throat. He looked at her ass, one that was big,
round, and apple shaped. If she bent over he’d be able to see the luscious
mounds of her bottom. Fuck, he was hard. The sight of her swaying her hips was
mesmerizing, and for the life of him he couldn’t draw away from the juicy
plumpness of her rear.

Just
the fucking way I like them.

Another low growl left him, and he
sensed Maverick glance at him curiously. Trace also didn’t miss the few
customers that looked his way, too. He didn’t fucking care about any of them,
not right now, and not when his mate was a few feet from him giving every
fucking asshole in here a show. Head bent low and eyes trained right on his
mate, he took a step closer. The bar was in his fucking way, but he’d scale the
thing if he had to.

“Shit, Trace, you okay, man?” Maverick’s
voice was close, too close, because if the lion tried to stop him he wouldn’t
be responsible for his actions. He was running on instincts right now, and
those were roaring at him to go to his mate, rip away that fucking human that
was all over her, and claim the shit out of her. He turned and looked at the
lion, and
fuck
him for his unreadable expression. At
least he was smart enough to not say anything else or try to stop him. The
realization of what was happening with Trace was clear on Maverick’s face, and
when the lion looked onto the dance floor Trace couldn’t stop his growl of
warning.

“Don’t fucking look at her.” This was a shifter
he considered a good friend, yet Trace wanted no male looking at what was his.
He turned and stared at his mate, and his dick jerked behind his zipper. Fuck,
he was uncomfortable hard, and growing thicker by the second. She was his.
There was no mistaking it. Finding a mate was a heady and powerful experience,
and one he never thought he’d live to see, or even want to have in his life.
But shit, he wanted this unknown female, and he hadn’t even seen her face, but he
couldn’t think of
not
possessing her.

With determination and animal prowess
running through his veins, he walked around the bar and made his way toward
her. The closer he came to his strawberry blonde mate, the stronger the scent
of peaches and vanilla intensified in his nose. Shit, she smelled good, like
really fucking
good
. He could have come from the aroma
alone. Trace didn’t stop the low rumble that left him as he saw the human’s
hands all over what was his. The weak looking man glanced up at him, and his
eyes widened a fraction. Good, at least he knew when he was no match. He
stepped back quickly, held his hands in the hair, and moved away from her.
 
Trace allowed himself the luxury of watching
her. She was a wolf shifter, yet he also smelled the liquor she had consumed,
which was probably why she seemed oblivious to his presence. Her long, wavy reddish
blonde hair hung loosely down her back, nearly touching the top of her ass, and
sending his head reeling. He loved a female with long hair. The image of
gripping those strands and wrapping them around his hand, tugging on them hard
until her neck was bared, and then sinking his canines into her to mark his
territory, ran through him deep and hard.