1Never Screw a Werewolf
“Another one, hunter?”the hotel bartender asked, the dim lights making his blue demon horns cast macabre shadows across his face.
I nodded.Fuck this day.I neededallthe alcohol to erase it from my mind.
He slid the amber glass across the bar and it landed in my outstretched fingertips. Tilting my head back, I took it down in one big swallow, relishing the burn it caused all the way down to my belly.
“Bad day?” a gruffly male voice asked beside me.
I side-eyed the beautiful specimen, letting my eyes roam over his tattooed arms, while trying not to notice the way his muscles begged to be freed from his tight powder-blue shirt. My nostrils flared as I inhaled his earthy scent, and immediately felt warmth pool between my legs. Normally, I had a general fuck-men-and-the-horse-they-rode-in-on attitude, but this one… he was yum. A werewolf, extremely dominant by the smell of him.
My kryptonite.
And I waswaytoo drunk.
‘You have a soft spot for werewolves,’Cass mind-messaged me from across the bar.
I shot a glare at my demon imp partner. At two-feet tall, with hot pink fur, dark blue horns, and a potbelly, he was hard to miss.‘Shhh,’I sent back.
To the werewolf with arresting honey eyes, I simply nodded. “Death in the family.”
“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that. For a second, I thought you might be here on official business.” He motioned to my supernatural bounty hunter badge, and my gun.
I gave him a hooded stare and inched closer to him, nearly falling off my stool. “Were you nervous?”
He grinned—and fuck me, he had dimples.
“Oh, it’d take a little more than a five-foot, hundred-pound female to bring me in.” He winked.
Oh, I could wipe the floor with him, but his boast turned me on for some reason.
“Five-two actually, and a hundred-ten. Muscle weighs more than fat, remember?” I winked back.
His grin got wider as the bartender brought us both refills. By the way his hand moved slowly to catch the drink, I’d say he was about as hammered as I. If not more.
“What’s your story? Why are you here tonight?” I peeked over the rim of my glass, taking a slow sip, and watching him like a lioness watches her prey.
The wolf sighed, running a hand through his wild dark hair. “Business transaction didn’t exactly go as planned,” was all he offered.
I was going to break all my rules tonight.Fuck it. I was back in this godforsaken town, out of work, and grieving my beloved dead grandmother. I’d just returned from scattering her ashes. There was no way I could spend the night in her cabin. I wanted to feel something other than loss. Anything else. If only for one night.
‘Want me to come over and bail you out?’ Cass asked from his perch at the end of the bar, where he was talking to a lanky female fae.
‘Don’t you dare cockblock me,’I warned my bestie.‘Not tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.’
He groaned, which sounded weird vibrating around my drunken brain.‘You told me to never let you sleep with a werewolf again,’ he pressed.
Breaking all my rules.‘Fuck off, Cass. Though you know I love you.’
Standing, I came face to face with the werewolf. At five-two, him sitting on the barstool was probably the only time I’d get to be face to face with him.
I tried not to slur. “I’m not really interested in talking. Want to come upstairs with me?”
His eyebrows hit his hairline as he cleared his throat, and looked around the room like maybe he thought he was onCandid Cameraor something.
“You seem drunk. I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he finally replied.
Laughter erupted from my lips; I couldn’t help it.
