2: Leer - Pack Takeover Read online

  Published by Mojocastle Press, LLC

  Price, Utah

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  2: Leer

  Pack Takeover

  ISBN: 1-60180-048-7

  Copyright ã 2008 Carys Weldon

  Cover Art Copyright @ 2008 Scott Carpenter

  All rights reserved.

  Excluding legitimate review sites and review publications, 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.

  Copying, scanning, uploading, selling and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without permission from the publisher is illegal, punishable by law and will be prosecuted.

  Available online at:

  http://www.mojocastle.com/

  Also By Carys Weldon

  Caresses Well Done

  Angel B.E.T.

  The Pack Series

  2: Leer - Pack Takeover

  3: Fera - Pack City

  4: Jack - In the Pack

  5: Hood - Pack Trust

  6: Bark - Pack Taboo

  7: Mark - Pack Attack

  Dedication:

  To Gene Simmons of KISS, and all the men out there that know how to use their tongues.

  2: Leer

  Pack Takeover

  Chapter One

  I thought Leer was sexy as hell the first minute I laid eyes on him. I had no idea he’d come straight from the devil’s den and would take me to hell and back before it was all said and done.

  I don’t generally hang out in bars, but it was a Friday night. I was lonely. The bar was within walking distance of my downtown apartment. I figured it wouldn’t hurt.

  Boy, was I wrong.

  The place I went to was one of those eclectic little bars that yuppies hang out in. Harmless enough looking clientele. You know?

  I scanned the place--right inside the door. I wasn’t in the mood for putting up with creeps. None in sight. I was restless. Almost like a part of me knew something was going to happen. You know the feeling. You can’t put a finger on it, but you know something’s in the air?

  I sidled up to the bar, ordered a long-necked bottle, no glass. I like to pick at the label when there’s nothing else to do. It took all of about five seconds to get it in hand, swivel and wish I hadn’t bothered.

  There were no creeps and no possibilities either, as far as I could see.

  I sipped my beer, did the calculations on how fast I could get it down and make the distance back to my place. I wondered idly what was on TV on Friday nights. I plucked at the corner of the gold label.

  Leer walked in about then. No. Let me clarify that. There was no doubt when Leer walked in. Every woman in the place perked up. All heads jerked. No kidding.

  He had something. That certain something. At the time, I thought it was the indefinable something you hear tell about. I now know--he was sweating pheromones. The kind that you can’t put a finger on, you can’t bottle and you can’t fight.

  The kind that werewolves put out.

  Okay. You’ve probably never met a werewolf. Thought they were fiction. Right? Yeah, well, me too. Until I met Leer.

  But I’m a believer now.

  I’m not only a believer. I’m a wolf worshipper. Not in the religious sense. No. I still believe in God. But now I also know for a fact that there are demons of the night. And there are creatures that I never dreamed of--lurking like demons--who are really heroes. Misunderstood heroes. Leer was one of them.

  I suppose I got lucky that night. Or unlucky, depending on how you look at it. To each his own. I know it was my destiny.

  The only seat in the bar that was open was the stool next to mine. Well, that and one clear at the far end. Leer swaggered over directly toward me, like he had his radar zeroed in. I--and every other woman in the bar--watched under hooded lids. It was hard to hide the fact that we were all sucking in air, trying to drag it in as fast and deep as we could.

  When he planted his backside on the seat, rested a Popeye-sized forearm on the bar and nodded. “Gimme a beer.” He didn’t sound any different from any other guy in the place. His voice was deep, like it came from his chest, but that was just cool. Ya know?

  I felt suddenly giddy. I wanted to giggle. I wanted to cling. I wanted to slip my arm through his and look adoringly up at him--and tell him--what? I had no idea. But the urge, the feeling of belonging with this guy, was already so strong--and I know, it doesn’t make sense.

  Instead of going impulsive on the guy and getting shot down, I settled for taking a swig of my beer, licking my lips, and eyeing him out of the corner of my eye--watching him smile and nod at the bartender as he picked up his drink. Leer has some funny habits. I saw him reach his tongue out and taste the beer before taking a sip. I thought that was odd. Now I just think--damn--is this guy all about sex or what?

  He does a lot of other things with that tongue, let me tell you.

  So, anyhow, he ends up downing about half of that beer before he sets it back on the bar. He wrapped both his big paws around it. I mean, Leer’s got big hands. Not clubby looking things. No. His fingers are long, thin, huge.

  I know now that he was just waiting. He knew I’d strike up a conversation. I’m telling you, no woman can resist this pheromone thing he has going on.

  I cleared my throat.

  He glanced my way. Let me explain Leer’s eyes. Topaz with big black centers. No. I’m not kidding. They are such a light brown that they look gold. And oh my God, if they don’t melt you on the spot. I felt undressed, heated up and ready to beg. And all he did was glance my way.

  I readjusted in my seat, bumping him on purpose in one of those accidental type moves to get somebody’s attention. It wasn’t lost on him. He grinned.

  And you want to talk about wolfish grins? Leer is, by God, a wolf. I know he was thinking of eating me up right at that moment. And I would have gone willingly to the slaughter.

  I did, as a matter of fact.

  He said, “Sorry. Guess I’m taking up more room than I should.” His grin got bigger. “You know, over here--minding my business on my own bar stool.”

  I flipped my hair, hoping he’d notice that it was looking good. I get lots of compliments on the short, out-flipped, dark shag. I fluttered my eyelashes, too, when I came back with, “Yeah. You ought to get a booth.” Then, like my tongue was working without my brain, I added, “Or better yet, a room.”

  He chuckled, then he insulted me, but I couldn’t blame him. I did sound like a whore. He said, “Oh oh. Sounds like this could cost me.”

  Of course, I realized how freaking slutty I sounded and tried to recoup. “Oh. I’m sure you can find company that’s free around here.” I looked around as if I was gonna set him up.

  No way in hell. That man could have thrown me up on the bar and I would have been smiling all the way. I was just playing.

  I swear, it’s like the air around him drugs women. I could feel my crotch dripping. I’m sure I groaned when I realized it, too.

  Nothing gets past him, either. At least, not much. At the drenching feeling between my legs, I glanced over at him. You know, thinking...geez, what’s wrong with me?

  Must’ve been about the time I really started with the hot juice flow, because I saw his nose twitch. His fingers clenched around that bottle. His biceps bulged in his shirt.

  I glanced toward his crotch. Couldn’t see a damn thing, the way he was sitting. But I had this…I dunno…feeling that he was digging me about as much as I was him. It was insane, considering the lengt
h of time we’d been acquainted.

  Leer pretended like he wasn’t really interested. He tipped his bottle up to the ceiling, pouring it down his throat. I’ve since seen him howl at the moon with his head tilted the same exact way. He probably was crowing, knowing I was his for the taking.

  Let me back up and explain something. At that juncture in time, I was not cheap. I was not easy. And I sure as hell was not free. I could count one high school sweetheart on my list of men I’d been with.

  I’ve always been a tease, a flirt. I like men. Well, men in general. But, oh my God, I am in love with Leer. And it was love at first sight.

  So he downed the beer, set it quietly on the table and turned to me. Very quietly, he asked, “You think you could show me where the closest…room is?”

  Okay. It is more than stupid to go out into the dark of night with a complete stranger that you picked up in a bar. Especially one big enough to take out ten cops without blinking an eye, but I couldn’t hop off my stool fast enough. I abandoned half a bottle and a half-peeled label without a second thought. And I really like to finish things, so that’s saying something.

  So, he followed me toward the door--with a hand at the small of my back--like he already owns me. And he does. No. Really. I know I had a smug look on my face. There wasn’t a chick in the place that wasn’t envying me at that moment. I felt it in my bones, and in the clawing stares that pierced my back and shoulders from all sides. Psychic attack? Nuts, I know. But it happened. You can’t tell me different.

  Leer towers over me. Makes my five feet eight inches seem petite. We looked damn good together, too. I saw it in the glass on the door as we went out.

  I think he was thinking the same thing.

  I was proud to be with him. To be leaving with him. Never mind the fact that I’d just met him. And I know every woman in the place watched us walk out. Just had to say that again, in case you had any doubt. I know they were watching.

  So, out in the open air, I stopped, breathed in--tried to clear my head. I couldn’t think.

  He smiled, one of those toothy, wolfish grins. “Feels good to be outside. Doesn’t it?”

  I tipped my head back and looked up at him. A slight breeze wafted across us, swirled around him and came back at me--smacking me hard with that scent of his. I went weak at the knees. He put a hand to my elbow, concern in his eyes.

  “You okay?”

  I offered him a tepid smile and joked, “Yeah. That was a breath of fresh air. You don’t get those in the middle of town.” But I was thinking, No. I’m not all right. And I can’t figure out what the hell’s the matter with me. I just know it has something to do with you.

  He asked, “What’s your name?”

  I didn’t want to say. You know, rendezvous with a stranger and all that. But he was watching me, looking me straight in the eye. I was mesmerized. My lips worked of their own accord. “Kay…Kayty.”

  Suddenly, there was something in his gaze--a recognition, I guess. No. Satisfaction. Followed up with an instant of pure pleasure. And then…nervousness. He gulped, verifying, “Kayty Smalls?”

  Okay. That confused me. How did this complete stranger guess my last name?

  I squeaked a little, I think. “How--how did you know?”

  His hand on my elbow became tight. He suggested, “Let’s walk.”

  I didn’t have any choice in the matter. Not that I wouldn’t have followed him anywhere. But--he practically carried me with that one hand under my elbow. His sense of direction is impeccable. He took me straight toward my apartment building. That was a little spooky. He could smell my trail. That’s what it really was. Not nearly as scary once you examine it. Well, maybe it is. Werewolves can stalk you by your scent. Just like real wolves.

  They are wild animals. Let me confirm that for ya.

  He didn’t talk the entire time we walked. Not until we were at my door. He said directly, “Look. My name is Leer. I’ve been looking for you.”

  I blinked.

  “For me?”

  “Yeah.” Getting a little antsy, he jerked his head toward the door. “Mind if we talk about it inside?”

  Chapter Two

  Truth is, some sense of self-preservation could have kicked in any time. But no, it was like I was under his spell, not thinking for myself. Something about being with him was just right. I can’t really explain it.

  I unlocked the door, pushed it open and gestured for him to go in. But he shook his head and let me step inside first. I turned just in time to see him checking behind, as if someone were out there--maybe following us.

  Shivers crawled over my back.

  Leer closed the door and faced me, putting his hands on his hips. That was the first time he looked indecisive--a little unsure. Finally, he repeated, “My name’s Leer.”

  I offered him another one of those pathetic smiles.

  My apartment was small, more claustrophobic than it had ever been with his big form looming, taking up half the space. I wanted to back up, but there was no place to go. I asked, “So…Leer…how do you know my name and where I live?”

  He hesitated to answer that.

  I didn’t want to ask again. Truth is, I didn’t want to talk at all. The pheromones were making me swoon. I’m sure my eyes started going all dreamy on him, and I licked my lips a few times, too.

  He asked, “You want to sit down?”

  I staggered backward, into a chair…collapsing. I fanned myself. “Whew. Is it hot in here or what?”

  He tugged at his shirt. “Yeah, a little.”

  It wasn’t hot. We were hot.

  What I didn’t know then is… He was having the same reaction to me.

  I reached over and flipped on the light. I don’t know why I didn’t do it when I first came in. Maybe because his eyes glowed--kinda lit up the room. And there was moonlight coming in through the front window.

  I told him. “You can sit.”

  “Thanks.”

  He swamped my sofa. It sits a little low. One of those old, wide-seated ones.

  His knees were at an angle. I remember wondering just how tall he was. Six foot six?

  He rested his arms on his thighs and leaned forward, eyeing me closely. “I knew you lived over this way…because I was looking for you.”

  “For me? Why?”

  I settled back in my chair, letting my legs sprawl out. I think it was instinct or something. Let my scent crawl out from between my legs, ya know? My short skirt rode up on my thighs. I didn’t bother to push it back down. I wasn’t exactly sitting spread eagle, but I was half reclining, resting my head on the back of the chair… waiting for him to explain what was going on. I felt like I was drugged. Totally lethargic, like the whole scene was in slow motion or something.

  “You’re on the list.”

  I had to laugh a little at that. One of those nervous laughs. You know. “What list?”

  He put a hand to the back of his neck, rubbed. Refreshed his scent? I sure noticed it more about a minute later. I swooned. Actually moaned aloud.

  He said, “This is gonna sound crazy.”

  “Try me.” It sounded like a come on, more than what I intended.

  Leer’s head came up. His eyes skewered me. That wolfish grin reappeared and he said, “I’m gonna have to.”

  I sat up. I knew he was talking about taking me. My panties were suddenly in a bunch. Literally. I’ve since discarded with the wearing of them. But right then, I had on a pair of hip huggers. I had to try and discreetly pull them out of my crotch.

  Leer didn’t miss my efforts. And that’s when I heard him growl for the first time. I don’t think he meant to do it. It just came from deep down in his chest.

  I asked again, “What list?”

  “The kin list.”

  “Kin?” I had to think a minute. The relative list? He didn’t look like any relatives I had. And if he was kin, what I was thinking about--consumed with--was downright sinful.

  He said, “Apparently…the minute you
were born…”

  I frowned. The minute I was born?

  “The elders can sense these things. They keep the records. Not to mention they have a lot of doctors and nurses--”

  “Wait. Kin to what? What are you talking about?” I wished he’d just stop talking and get to what I brought him home for. But now he had me curious.

  And apparently, he couldn’t get to it without talking through it first. He ran his hand through his hair again. There was a little silver at the temples, but he didn’t look old. Not at all.

  Leer admitted, “I’m having a little trouble thinking.”

  I tried to be flip. “What is there to think about?”

  “Kayty.” He just blurted it out. “I’m gonna get you pregnant.”

  I was speechless for several seconds. Then I laughed. I’m sure a few expletives crossed my lips. But they died in the air between us, and so did the false laugh.

  He was dead serious.

  I swallowed hard, then cleared my throat and said, “I should’ve finished my beer.”

  He nodded. “We should’ve got another round.”

  I agreed. “Maybe two.”

  The truth was, I wanted this guy to jump me--in spite of what he’d just said. I couldn’t wait for it. And I was scared to death. I mean, there was no question that he was big enough to hurt me. Definitely, he could rape me if he wanted.

  He looked virile. In fact, he looked so damn sexy that I wanted his children. I know it sounds stupid. But, on the spot, I went from being alone to wanting to belong. I wanted to be his. To be connected forever.

  Leer said, “I’m having a little trouble with self-control here.”

  His fingers were clenching and unclenching. He kept tucking his chin, looking--no--darting his gaze around the room.

  I watched him, half-afraid of what he was trying to control. Maybe, somewhere deep down inside, I’d been waiting for him all my life. I knew, instinctively you might say, that we were going to end up together. Call it kismet. Call it destiny.