Psychic Peyton struggles each
day to cope with the drudgery of work and routine, except for the nights when
she moonlights as a mood bouncer at an upscale gentlemen’s club for shifters.
Denied a promotion that will give her the bonus she desperately needs to pay
off a debt, she sells her virginity at auction. She finds herself in the arms
of the winner - ruthless, powerful alpha wolf Dante Carrington, who shares his
prize with his sexy beta wolves - bad boy biker Gabriel and sensitive poet
Alexander. They want more than to ravish Peyton’s virgin body for one night.
They want to claim her body, heart and soul.
When loan sharks threaten Peyton,
Dante whisks her away in his limo to his pack’s private ranch to keep her safe.
Dante, Alex and Gabriel are determined to protect Peyton and seduce her until
she submits to them … and her own desires. They will take her hard and take her
gentle, coaxing her to the heights of a pleasure she has never known. But
Peyton is human and knows the rugged world of shifters can be dangerous. Torn
between the erotic world she’s plunged into and the familiar, safe surroundings
of the human lifestyle, she must choose between listening to her head or
following her heart. Because everyone knows when you play with wolves you risk
getting hurt… forever.
Excerpt copyright 2018 Bonnie Vanak
My stomach did little flip
flops as I ground to a halt. The delicious scent of spices and leather teased
my senses. Sweat trickled down my backside, banding in the waistband of my
jeans.
“Hello Mr. Carrington.”
One did not hurry past Dante Carrington, alpha wolf of a
pack sixty miles north of Cheyenne. Not if one wished to get fired for ignoring
the greeting of the club’s wealthiest, and most important, patron.
Dante
Carrington. Black hair clipped short, except for the silky hank that hung over
his forehead. Eyes dark as night, his facial features handsome and perfect. In
his dinner dress, he looked good enough to lick.
Down
girl.
Owner
of the Bar B Q ranch, also known in were circles as Dante’s Inferno for the
excellent cookouts they held each summer. He started coming to the club a year
ago.
To his right sat Alexander Smith. Gabriel Sharp sat across
from Dante. Both were Dante’s betas in the pack, his close friends. Like the
others in the lounge, they wore black silk tuxedos, but they looked elegant and
refined. Even the rougher Gabriel, who preferred biker boots and black leather
while riding his Harley.
The auras of all three glowed a calm blue. Weres usually
had blue auras, except when they were sexually aroused, and then they flared crimson.
“Mr. Smith. Mr. Sharp.” I kept my voice even and friendly,
though inside I shook a little. This trio had that effect on me. They oozed
masculine power and strength, and sexuality.
Three different males, all different, and all intriguing
and handsome.
“Peyton please. How many times have we told you to call us
by our first names? No formality needed,” Dante gently chided.
Alexander
lifted a hand in greeting, his dark eyes framed by round glasses. Lean and
tall, he had curly black hair spilling down to his shoulders and reminded me a
little of Jon Snow from Game of Thrones.
Alex was smart and shy.
Shifters
are physically stronger and healthier than humans. I always suspected Alex wore
glasses to hide himself, not because of a defect with his eyesight.
Bad
boy Gabriel gave a toothy grin. A short-cropped brown beard covered his lower
face, and the black silk jacket hid a body lined with sinew and muscle. Gabriel
was the largest of the trio, standing more than six feet, five inches tall with
thick muscles and a shock of brown hair streaked gold tumbling down past his
broad shoulders.
Thick,
dark brows arched over blue eyes that suggested he liked to party hard, but I’d
seen those eyes flash with tenderness when he’d wistfully mentioned how much he
adored children. I’d also seen them turn stormy when he bristled with rage when
someone tried to abuse one of the girls.
No
formality? I gave a pointed look at their dinner jackets. “Then why the fancy
duds?”
They
all chuckled. Dante lifted his glass. “Touché.”
“Not
quite so fancy.” Gabriel stuck out a foot covered in black Doc Martens.
Grinning,
I showed him my pair – covered with little colorful flowers. Gabriel fist bumped
me.
“How are you, Peyton?” Gabriel asked. “We were hoping you’d
show up tonight.”
“Peyton Jackson. Our favorite waitress,” Alexander’s smile
put me at ease. Usually he was so quiet, you barely knew he was there. I always
sensed something deep about Alexander, as if he were a wounded were hiding a
secret. Such a sensitive soul.
Still, one had to be mindful these were shifters. With
fangs and claws. Never let down your guard around shifters.
