Page 5 of Her Curves, His Fate

“Whiskey on the rocks, please,” Rafe replied, unable to keep his eyes from lingering on the curve of her lips. Or her hips. She was the most curvaceous female he’d ever seen. And he was loving every one of them. His imagination went wild as he pictured her naked spread before him like an unlimited buffet.

His wolf snickered at his humor, but the animal knew exactly what the man meant. He couldn’t wait to taste her. Her mouth, her tits. Her cunt. His cock swelled, threatening to burst straight through his pants.

“Coming right up.” She flashed him a small smile, her ample cleavage teasing him as it jiggled beneath her tight t-shirt.

She turned her back to him, bending down to remove a bottle from one of the lower shelves. Her ass pushed up in the air, the wide width just begging for his hands. It was almost his undoing. He barely controlled the urge to jump over the bar, cut her jeans from her sweet body with his claws, and thrust his cock inside her ripe pussy. He knew it was ripe. He could spell her arousal. His wolf growled. Those damn juices better be flowing for him.

His wolf growled as he caught more than one set of male eyes on her.

“Here you go,” she said, sliding the glass to him. Their fingers brushed for a heartbeat too long. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks, beautiful,” Rafe murmured, taking a sip. The warmth spread through his chest, igniting a fire he hadn’t felt in years. He raised an eyebrow, impressed by her choice of whiskey. “Nice selection.”

“Only the best for our customers,” Nora responded with a grin. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Guilty as charged.” He didn’t mind answering the question for the third time. Not when it came from her. He took a slow sip, eyes never leaving hers. “My pack has a meeting here this week.”

“Right. I’d heard about that.” She studied him. “You’re the alpha, right?”

Rafe lifted his glass to her. “Or at least one of them. There are several packs coming into the area. Here’s hoping everything goes smoothly.”

“Mmm. Shifter and witches…” She trailed off. “Some say we don’t mix well. Kind of like oil and water. Magic and mayhem.”

Rafe’s gaze was serious. “Is that what you believe?”

She tilted her head, continuing to study him. Finally, she shook her head. “No. I don’t believe that.”

“That’s good. Very good,” Rafe agreed, a wicked glint in his eyes.

“By then,” she whispered, leaning closer. “Maybe I’m just drawn to chaos.” She held his gaze, unyielding, and Rafe felt his heart race. It was like looking into the eyes of a storm – beautiful, dangerous, and utterly enthralling. His palms began to sweat, and he swallowed hard. The mating heat was slowly building inside him. He heard it happened fast that way. The rise of lust that continued to grow and grow until…well, until what came naturally happened.

Fucking.

“Another,” he growled.

Nora arched a brow at the wolf’s tone, even as her nipples hardened in response. He was one hell of a sexy man, and she was feeling the draw. “Please.”

A predator’s smile curled his lip, s revealing a flash of fang. “Please.”

The word was both a command and a promise, and even arousal pooled hot and slick between her thighs. She’d been wet and wanting since she’d looked up and caught him staring at her. She licked her lips again, watching his gaze follow the movement. “Coming right up.”

She turned away to pour his drink, acutely aware of his gaze on her backside again. She thought she’d burst into flames when she’d leaned over to grab the bottle of whiskey. She’d watched him in the mirror as he’d watched her. It had been arousing as hell.

When she slid the glass over, he caught her wrist in an iron grip.

“What’s your name, little witch?”

The rasp of his voice spiked the heat already spiraling through her. “How do you know I’m a witch?”

“I can smell it.”

The knowledge that he was scenting her witch DNA also meant he had to be scenting her arousal.

“Your name,” he ordered.

She met his smoldering gaze steadily. “Nora.”

“Nora,” he purred, lips curving in a predatory smile. “I’m Rafe.”