Lone Wolf
Breed MC #4
Anne Marsh
Publication date: May 31st 2017
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
A sexy new standalone shifter romance from New York Times Bestselling Author Anne Marsh…
I don’t play well with other wolves. The pack needs muscle, and I provide it as their enforcer. My biker name is Gator—after the alligator that chewed my face up. Sure I can make a woman scream with pleasure, but the scars on my face? That’s truth in advertising right there. There’s not an ounce of pretty in me. I fight, I ride—and I do it alone. So chasing the gorgeous marine biologist who wanders into my bayou hunting for wolves is not my smartest move. She’s Beauty. I’m the Beast. That story’s already been told and life’s fresh out of happy endings.
LONE WOLF is a sexy standalone werewolf shifter romance with more than its fair share of humor, dirty sex, and alpha males who fall in love hard.
That’s a new low, even for me. I try the
label out while icy water pounds over my shoulders and down my back, shriveling
my balls into obedience. Or at least that’s the plan. Normally, hitting an
ice-cold shower does the trick, but tonight I can’t stop thinking about the
woman waiting on me in the next room. Poppy’s got to be the most beautiful
female I’ve ever laid eyes on, but it’s not just the exterior paint job that
has me jonesing for her. I fucking like
her—the way she thinks and gives me crap about the most ridiculous stuff. The
way she won’t quit and just goes after what she wants with everything she’s
got. She was spectacular when she came flying out of nowhere and rammed her
boat into mine. I didn’t give a fuck right then about the job I had to do or
what my Alpha had ordered.
I’ve been thinking about her ever since.
This whole ultimatum I gave her is bullshit,
and my dick’s sitting up straight, begging for her touch, even though the
water’s colder than an ice bath in Antarctica. Nothing’s gonna make me less hot
for Poppy, and when I get out, I’m still hard as fuck.
So screw it.
She’s the trespasser. I fist my dick. She doesn’t belong here.
I tell myself that when I get out of the
shower and pull on my jeans. The words don’t stick. I don’t bother doing up my
jeans—just drag my hand down my dick, slapping my fingers around the shaft and
cupping my balls. Take a nice, slow pull up. Fuck, that feels good. Not as good
as it would if Poppy were touching me, though. She’d need both hands to handle
me. Despite the cold water treatment, there’s nothing small about me.
Sex for me is usually quick and rough. Not
like I’m worried about anyone walking in on me, but it’s been a means to an
end. A way to get rid of my blue balls and then get on with my shit. I’m the
king of the two-minute speed jerk, hitting the gas in the fast lane and then
going for gold. I don’t wait to blow my load.
Tonight my plans are different. I grab the
lotion I stole from Poppy earlier. Don’t judge. I squirt that shit on my palm
and then curl my fingers around my dick, sliding down and twisting. Not as good
as having Poppy touch me, but this will do.
She’s the strangest mix of strong and
delicate, but maybe it’s because I made the mistake of underestimating her and
now she’s constantly surprising me. So what if she likes pink? And if she’s
both shy and awkward—and wonderfully, aggressively blunt? She doesn’t have to
be just one thing. She can be whoever she wants when she’s with me, and I
suspect I’ll love it.
I drag my palm up, squeezing the head hard.
I’m a fucking greedy bastard because I want more. I want to lotion up her tits
and slide my dick between them fast and hard, until the tip’s hitting her chin
and I blow all over her chest. Or flip her over and use that lotion to ease my
way deep inside her ass. Not picky, really. I’ll take whatever she’ll give me.
She’s on the other side of the door.
Feet away from me.
All
I have to do is reach out and turn the knob.
Anne Marsh is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more thirty romances. She loves stories about tough guys with marshmallow interiors, protective alphas, and men who live for the women they love. Because you can never have too much of a good thing (hot alpha males… we’re looking at you!), she writes about werewolf Alphas, Viking werebears, US Navy SEALs, and really smoking hot firefighters.
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