CHAPTER TEN

 

Michaela strode through the lobby with purpose. Arousal buzzed through her body. No amount of masturbation or porn could take the edge off.

Damn him, dragging me into Mate Induced Shared Dreaming. She gritted her teeth. Desperate times called for desperate measures. She walked up to the front desk. “What do I have to do to get into Black Howl?”

As she tapped her foot and waited for the attendant to respond, she noticed werewolves of both genders coming up to her, sniffing at her and invading her personal space.

“I’m off the market,” she growled to everyone near.

“Already? That was fast,” Winthrop drawled behind her.

“Shut it, asswipe. Why aren’t you gone?” She didn’t bother peeking over her shoulder at him. Just a look from him might incite her to act violently.

“I am, princess, I am. Did what I came here to do. Just checking out now.”

“Good, leave now before I rip out your larynx.” A bit of the wolf crept into her tone.

The concierge handed her a printout. “Thank you,” she murmured. She studied the information. “Can you book me a cart now or do I have to go up to the kiosk and do it?”

“I can do that for you, Ms. Shaw,” the concierge responded. She tapped a few keys. “Done.”

Mickey gifted her with a smile. “Thank you.”

The woman slid a bottle toward her. “You may want to give yourself a spritz. It’s pheromone dampening mist. Helps all shifters go about their day unmolested by others.”

Heat flooded her face. Her ears tingled with embarrassment. “Thank you.” She accepted the container and gave herself a quick mist. She pushed the bottle back.

“Keep it. Compliments of the resort.” The woman smiled at her.

Mickey read the woman’s name tag. “Thank you, Angela.” She turned and headed toward her usual dining spot, not bothering to watch Winthrop leave.

She spent the rest of the day in the spa or in one of the restaurants. Avoiding everyone at all costs was a main priority. It didn’t help that Ace and Banan continued to hang around, but there was no Riktor in sight. Maybe he too was hiding from her after the intensity of their shared dream.

Close to the time of her appointment at Black Howl, she showered and dressed in a tight-fitting black leather dress, strappy sandals, and lace-top stockings with a matching garter belt and lingerie. Satisfied that she was dressed for the part, she headed out.

The trek to the club took her through the gardens. Birds still chirped in the trees. Overhead, streaks of pink, orange, and red painted the sky. The calm of the ocean waves lapping at the shore relaxed her. She followed the sandstone path until she hit a long stretch with no one on it.

A golf cart sat waiting for her with a driver standing by the vehicle. He opened the door for her. “Your chariot awaits, Ms. Shaw. I’m David. I’ll be your driver.”

She smiled and slid into the backseat. “How long will it take to get there?”

“Not long. Ten minutes at the most. The weather is nice, with very little breeze. Also, there’s not a lot of people on the island to begin with, so no traffic.” David slid into the driver’s seat, and they took off.

The ride showed off the extensive gardens, private cabanas, and staff housing.

“You don’t live at the resort?” she asked.

“The Brodys wanted to give us our own space,” David replied. “We own our own houses, have our own gardens and pools and all the luxuries of the resort.”

This revelation impressed her even more. “And you drive to work?” She smirked.

“It depends on the weather. We can walk, bike, or take a golf cart to work. No need to freak out over a car payment,” David responded, his tone filled with pride and happiness.

She marveled. Other resorts had perks for working there, but she hadn’t heard of this.

“We also are fully covered on all the insurances, paid for by the Brodys. Pretty sweet deal. Not a lot of spots open up. If you work here, it’s a job for life.” David gave her a wide grin. “You can get a glimpse of Black Howl just up ahead.”

A black edifice appeared ahead of her. They emerged from the path into a courtyard with a fountain in front of it. No one milled around the entrance, and no bouncer could be seen.

David pulled to a stop at the double doors. He got out quickly and gave her his hand to steady her she climbed out of the cart.

She glanced at the large, black-stone building with its wide double doors. “Imposing.”

“It does make an impression,” David replied with a smile. “You just press the buzzer and tell them your name. Easy as pie. Speaking of which, Shepherd’s Pie for dinner. Gotta get back before those animals I work with eat it all. Enjoy your night.”

She climbed out of the cart and waved at him as he drove off.

Rather than announce herself, she took a moment to circle the entrance. A few benches around the perimeter allowed people to sit and enjoy the sound of the fountain. A well-maintained sand garden had stones and boulders scattered around the area. The tension in her body subsided. The black stone that formed the front of the building made her feel secure rather than intimidated. Simple script over the doors spelled out the words Black Howl in silver letters. She came to the entrance, noting the cameras on the top and sides of the frame. A speaker over the panel contained a buzzer.

She pressed the button and waited.

A deep, gruff voice requested her name. She gave it. A minute went by before she heard a loud click, and then the doors swung open to reveal a tall, bald man wearing suit pants, a button-up shirt, and jacket, no tie. A gold nametag informed her that his name was Jake. He was about six foot five with kind brown eyes and thick black brows, dark eyelashes, and the shadow of a beard. His features were weathered. His gaze swept over her—pausing at her neck, chest, stomach, the insides of her elbows, her wrists and hands, her legs and knees. A quick, impersonal perusal.

She held out her arms and turned them this way and that. “No drugs of any kind. My last encounter with a vampire was three months ago and the most dangerous thing she did was grin at me. And my last encounter with a witch was last week, and we only had a coffee and discussed business. I know the paranormal community has become very worried about the spike in people under vampiric thrall or bewitched by witches.”

He nodded. “Good to know. Michaela Shaw, welcome to the Black Howl. I’m Jake, your personal guide.” Jake’s voice matched the one that came over the speakers.

Her esteem for the club went up a notch. “Direct, I like that.”

He held up a hand, stalling her. “One moment, please. I’ll need to check your bag for recording devices. We take the privacy of our patrons very seriously.”

She didn’t argue and handed over her clutch. He felt along the seams and over the front and back, then opened the lid and gave the insides careful attention, taking each item out and giving it a onceover before replacing it with care.

He gave her a nod and handed back her purse. “Thank you for your patience, Ms. Shaw.”

She smirked. “Thanks. I’ll be paying with a credit card.”

Jake gestured for her to enter. She strode past him and stopped to take in the dining room/talking area. Everything was done in either black or gold in various patterns and styles that meshed well. Nothing garish to the eyes. The walls were covered in pale, golden wood paneling. The lighting was dim but not so dark that she couldn’t see anything. A few patrons were seated at the two-person tables or in the deep, plush booths.

“This way please.” Jake slipped in front of her and opened a door next to the entrance marked Employees Only. She followed him into a neat, small room with only two chairs, a desk, and computer. No other office furniture or appliances could be seen.

Jake settled down behind the table and began typing. “May I have your full name please?”

She took a seat in the visitor’s chair and gave him the information. For the next fifteen minutes, Jake asked her personal details, kinks, preferences, and sexual history.

“Thank you for your patience, Ms. Shaw,” Jake said, giving her a warm smile. “Everything appears in order. I will say it’s an honor to have a female alpha as a guest.”

She opened her purse, slipped out her card, and slid it across to him. “Thank you. It’s a pleasure to be here. I’m impressed with the setup so far.”

He grinned at her, showing off silver-plated canines. “We aim to please. Now, where would you like to start?” He pushed back the chair and stood.

She ignored her discomfort at seeing all that silver in someone’s mouth and focused on his question. “How about a basic tour? I’m very curious about the rooms and how this all works.”

Jake preened. “We pride ourselves on being unique. Or as singular as possible. Here is our bar. No liquor, mostly energy drinks, non-alcoholic mocktails, and water.”

He gestured to the long island with padded stools in front of it where three bartenders conversed with clients. They came to a stop in front of the bar. “Would you care for a drink?”

“Sure. I’ll take a Dr. Pepper if you have it.”

Jake gave her another grin, showing off those fangs.

She resisted a shiver. How could a werewolf have all that silver in his mouth and it not hurt? She didn’t want to know. As the alpha of her pack, she had to show her strength as well. She’d chosen a silver tattoo at the base of her spine of a moon with only a crescent done in silver laced ink. That had been painful enough, and after every shift, it would reappear and rebrand her skin when fully healed.

She accepted the glass of Dr. Pepper from the bartender and followed Jake around.

“The bar forms the central hub of what we like to call the entry floor. It’s cut in half. This part serves the drinks, the other is the café. The brothers want people to be at ease. That’s why they went with classical music.” He gestured to the speakers in the ceiling.

Mickey nodded her approval. The brothers surprised her yet again. “I like it. Very intimate. You can talk and hear your partner or partners with no problems.” The selection had piqued her curiosity. “Who chose the classical music?”

“Ace. He may look a bit intimidating, but he loves instrumentals.”

She chuckled. “And what would Riktor have preferred?”

Jake gave her an assessing glance. “Mr. Brody has no problem with jazz or classical. Can’t stand heavy metal or pop, that’s more Banan’s area. And this is our kitchen.” He nodded toward swinging double doors. “Basic food options. Protein-rich for recovery and energy.”

She spotted a long table filled with a large group of people. A Munch—a gathering of people interested in BDSM and kink in a safe place, she thought.

Jake confirmed her assumption. “If you’re invited to a Munch, you can meet up here but not at the resort. We keep all things separate. The rules of the club forbid you from going to the upper levels until you fully understand what you’re agreeing to. We take people’s safety very seriously. Plainclothes security mingles among the customers and sits in at all Munches to gauge the mood and possible threats. And of course, there are cameras.” Jake jerked his chin toward the wall.

She noted tiny cameras with blinking red lights set into the middle of the wall behind plants or next to shelves or paintings. “Impressive.” She noted more monitors in the baseboards and up in the ceiling.

They came to a stop at the stairwell. “Ready for the second floor?”

“No elevators?” She glanced around.

“Nope. Elevators provide easy cover. We want to be able to keep an eye on all of our customers while they’re under our roof or on our property. Stairwells allow us to keep them from being trapped in an enclosed space with someone who could harm them. Stairs also allow us to reach our customers quickly. Plus, it’s good exercise.”

They began to climb up the tread.

“We have hidden doors every few steps to allow our security teams to monitor the progress up or down and can reach anyone in distress at any time.” He didn’t indicate where the entryways were.

“Whoever constructed this club did an excellent job.” She would love to know the name and have them do some work for her.

One of the doors slipped open to reveal Riktor dressed all in black, right down to his button-up silk shirt. His tousled dark waves brushed his brow, her wet dream come to life. He stepped out onto the stair, and the door slipped shut behind him with a soft click. “I’ll take over from here, Jake.”

Her heart picked up speed, and her heat flooded her pussy. Awareness of his height, the brightness of his eyes, his sexy-as-hell cologne, and his presence washed over her in waves. The wolf sat at attention. The dream came back to her in snatches.

Riktor’s gaze moved from the top of her head down to her feet and back up again. Goose bumps rose on the skin of her arms and across her chest. A slow burn began deep in her groin and spread along her limbs, up her torso, filling her like a slowly rising tide. She stared at him, unable to move or speak.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jake glance from him to her and back. He bowed. “I wish you a wonderful evening.”

The sensation lightened, and she could finally swallow. Mickey watched as Jake moved around her and headed back the way he came.

Riktor nodded up the stairs. “Shall we?”

She grinned. “I take it this isn’t a usual thing?” She advanced up to the same tread he stood on.

“Not as unusual as you might think.” His velvety smooth voice cascaded over her body, igniting the fire which burned in her abdomen.

“Well, I’m flattered nonetheless.” Cream dampened her panties. Awareness skittered over her skin. Energy jittered up and down her body—urging her to move closer to him. His scent eddied around her. She inhaled deeply and let out a soft sigh. He smelled heavenly.

She clearly wasn’t the only one affected as she noted the flare of his nostrils and the way his body angled toward her without touching her. He lifted his hand only to let it fall back to his side.

Oh, what a little mate-induced dreaming could do, she mused with a smile. She raised an eyebrow at him.

People moved around them, and a few even asked if they were going up or down, but they remained in place.

His lips parted, and the pink tip of his tongue swiped over the sensual curves. She wanted to rise up on tiptoe and get a taste of him. Would she find the coolness of mint or the spice of cinnamon? Or maybe something salty or sweet?

He cleared his throat. “We should continue our tour.”

She reached out and slipped her arm through his and took hold of his hand. He didn’t shake her off. Score one for me.

Riktor led her upward.

The silence weighed between them. It didn’t annoy her or make her antsy. It just sat there, comfortable and easy.

“So, why an adult club? Why not just a mini resort or another restaurant or something else?” she asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Because at the time we didn’t have the money for anything else. Besides, we have those already.” He turned his head away, blocking his features from being read. “And we didn’t have a lot in common besides this. We wouldn’t need a celebrity endorsement, as it wasn’t a restaurant or resort or exercise product.”

She chuckled. “I’ve invested in a few of those.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, that’s you. Great way to make a few bucks, but not our style. Anyway, this is the second floor where you can find private theaters for erotic movies and couples therapy. We feel couples therapy and interaction are very important before any member chooses to move onto the next level and take part in swinging or orgies.”

She nodded, liking that they focused on relationship aspects and not just sex or arousal.

“We make sure to have diverse options to ensure that everyone’s taste is accommodated.”

She glanced at him, frowning at how even his tone seemed. “Are you reading from a brochure? You don’t sound the least bit proud or pleased about Black Howl.”

He frowned. “I am, trust me. Besides, what’s it to you how I sound?”

“Tell me how you feel about it, what you enjoy about it. I’m already sold. I’m here. Sooo…” She made a rolling motion with her hand and eyed his reaction. “As for what’s it to me, I like to be around people who love what they do, since I love what I do.”

Thoughts and emotions flashed in his eyes, but his stance relaxed. “You’re right. I normally give this tour to investors. Where would you like to go?” Curiosity sparked in his eyes. His body shifted to lean closer to her.

“Why not show me what areas you like? The ones you spend the most time in.” She wanted him to tell her what he wanted himself, not what the file told her.

His lips quirked in a smile. “Or you could tell me what interests you.” His tone turned deeper, raspier.

She resisted the urge to shiver. Her nipples tightened to hardened nubs. Her arousal increased to a full-on inferno. Her pussy clenched. She licked her lips and focused on playing their little game. Mickey titled her head to the side and took him in from head to toe—pausing on his lips before she met his gaze. “Challenge accepted. Let’s start with the movies and work our way up. And maybe you’ll tell me what you like.”

“Well, I like movies.” He placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her over to the double doors of the movie theater. “Shall we peek in? It’s early, and no one is in there yet.”

The heat of his palm seeped past the barrier of her dress. She reveled in this contact. “Are members locked out before this floor’s opening time?”

“We want people to ease into their night. Build up the passion and interest. Each couple gets their own room with a shelf of items to use to stimulate and arouse.” He opened one of the doors. The walls were painted a warm orange with photographs of couples in erotic poses. On the closest wall hung a wide-screen TV. Across from it sat a deep-cushioned couch with side tables. Low lighting from the nickel-plated wall scones gave the room a cozy glow.

She advanced further into the space and took a seat. “Nice and plush. I suppose all the rooms are this comfortable.” She shifted in her seat to face him and leaned forward to give him a view of her cleavage.

“Of course. We ensure comfort or discomfort, whatever the client wants.” He stepped closer but didn’t join her.

Oh, I bet you will, she thought, amused at the distance between them even as she became more aware of his height. Just standing near the doorway drowned out some of the hallway light. Energy shivered over her bare skin, raising goose bumps. The air grew warmer around her. She felt the walls growing closer.

He turned his head away, breaking the visual connection between them.

“Scared of me?” She continued to stare at him. “Look at me,” she ordered with her mind. “See me.”

His attention returned to her, a question in his bright blue eyes. “Excuse me?” Something flashed in the azure depths, reminding her of the predator that lurked just under his skin.

“You’re all the way over there, and I’m over here, all alone. Did the dream scare you that much?”

His eyes narrowed dangerously and a muscle in his jaw twitched, but he didn’t turn away from her. “I’m your tour guide, not your partner. And I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She smirked. “Sure you don’t know what I’m talking about.” She shrugged. “Too bad you don’t want to play with me. I bet I could make you bark. Shall we continue our tour?”

His eyes widened and then narrowed again until only slits of blue were visible. “I doubt that. And yes.” This time he moved toward her. A silken stride, no hesitation. “But only if you’ll behave. Will you?” A spark lit up his face, showing her what he might look like when his interest turned to her.

The heat of his gaze seeped deep inside of her, warming her to the core. Something within her answered his flirtation. She wanted more of this verbal banter between them.

“Only if you make it worth my while.” Her pussy quivered, and her juices dampened her panties at the thought of having some fun with him. Her mind dove into the gutter and reveled in it. Ideas followed one right after the other. Maybe with a blindfold, a movie playing with some serious dirty talk and his hands undressing her body and his words in her ear. She shivered, and her nipples tightened. Her pussy lips tingled, and more of her feminine honey leaked onto her panties. She crossed her legs and put pressure on her clit to keep the sensation going.

Riktor cleared his throat once more. He moved deeper into the room and over to a cabinet against the back wall. He opened the door and gestured to the shelves within. “We have several options: blindfolds, silk ties, the basics. Anything more extensive like handcuffs or dildos or full body binds, latex items, paddles, etc., are in the private playrooms and orgy spaces.” His voice came out a deep rumble. “But we won’t be doing any of that. You should find someone else.”

She stood and strode toward him. Mickey didn’t miss how his eyes took in the roll of her hips, her stride, the bounce of her breasts, and the sway of her arms. She put extra oomph into her movements, giving him a show and whetting his appetite for more. Mickey directed her gaze downward and noticed the tenting toward the top of his right pants leg. And an impressive bulge it was too.

She stopped near him and lifted her hand toward the erection, only to let it fall to her side. If he wanted to be touched, he’d have to ask for it. No, she corrected herself, he would have to beg. And she knew she could make him plead for her touch. She sidled up closer, allowing her breast to graze his arm and her body to invade his personal space. He hesitated for a moment. His whole being paused, and then he moved just a step away.

She bent her head forward. “Scared of little ol’ me?”

He said nothing. She could sense how strong an effect she was having on him, but he managed to keep himself under control. She wanted him to lose control.

Her fingertips prickled to touch and trace his heated skin. Rather than deny herself, she gave into temptation, reached out, and made contact, gently touching his ear. So hot. So soft and delicate. She wanted to rise up on tiptoe and nip on the lobe, suck it into her mouth all while she rode his cock hard. What would it be like to make that dream come true? Her legs shook at the thought. Would he take control or would he let her have her way before dominating her, just like in the dream? Her hand quaked, and she pulled it away, but not before he reached out and grabbed her wrist, holding it between them.

“I didn’t say you could touch me,” he whispered, voice rough and inhuman.

Her vaginal walls squeezed, and her clit throbbed. Her five-inch heels couldn’t seem to hold her steady. She swayed on her feet.

He reached out, wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled her close but stopped just a whisper before their bodies met.

He made a clucking sound with his tongue and dipped his head until their lips touched. Just like their bodies, he stopped short.

The action both infuriated and intrigued her. Her libido kicked up several degrees until her clothes became itchy, too tight, and uncomfortable. Her confidence ebbed in the face of the energy that played between them. A push/pull that drew her closer and edged her away.

His emotions were unreadable. His face a complete mask that blocked her out.

Her anger rose at the blockade. The wolf within her wanted to rip the intrusion away and bare his every thought and sentiment to its eyes. It wanted to witness every passion and repulsion. The woman wanted to rip away the suit, tie him down, and cover him in love bites. Make him hers in the most obvious way she could.

She licked her lips. The tip of her tongue skated over the edge of his bottom lip.

His pupils grew wider until only a ring of bright blue surrounded them. He inhaled. The cool air brushed against her overheated flesh. She became aware of a tingling on the outer edges of her senses—a shift in both of them.

The wolf rose to the surface and hovered just out of reach. Its power pulsed under her skin and eked out of her pores.

“What are you doing?” she asked the animal. It had never done anything like this before without forcing her to partially or fully shift.

She gazed up at Riktor and saw the flash of gold in his eyes, followed by confusion. He gave a minute shake of his head and then refocused on her.

“Careful,” he cautioned, his fine voice gravel rough.

“Scared?” she pressed. “Afraid I’ll kiss you, oh alpha?”

“I haven’t given you permission for that, and again, we aren’t doing this,” he murmured.

She tilted her head to the side but didn’t move away. “It seems like we are. So you want me to ask for what I want? Beg?”

“I want you to say what you want, but not with me. I am not your Dom, and this is not a scene.” Challenge sparked in his now golden-flecked eyes.

“Fine, we can pretend that this isn’t happening.” She smirked at how absurd it was to continue denying their attraction, despite their shared dream. “How about this: you let me kiss you now, and we move on with the tour?” She didn’t want to rush the pleasure of his company. Her wolf moved cautiously in the background, acting if it was stalking Riktor. Was he an enemy or something far more exciting? “Let’s find out.”

He licked his lips. A flush of fire danced over her skin and slipped deep into her flesh to burn along her limbs. Her muscles tightened in anticipation. Her breath caught in her chest, and her thoughts scattered. Any action she would’ve taken blew away in the face of the softest and most innocent of his touches. She responded by licking the spot and taking his taste into herself. Just a hint of mint and coffee—a tease to her senses but enough to make her buzzed. Her blood heated and energy skittered through her muscles and tendons, demanding she act, she move, she do something.

On pure instinct, she rose up on tiptoe, lifted her hand, and grabbed the back of his neck, dragging his head down to finish the contact. His lips pressed against hers—warm, firm, pure decadence. Her mouth moved against his, gliding against the smooth warmth. She brushed his lips over and over with hers until he responded and opened for her. Her tongue tasted, quested, and tangled with his. The coolness of mint and bitterness of coffee and bit of sweetness flooded her taste buds.

He grabbed her hair and tugged her back—but as he did, he also bit at her lower lip with his teeth, a hint of power, of his willingness to claim her mouth for his own…whenever he wanted.

He left her panting, heart racing, and her body filled with the craving for more. Mickey wanted full body contact, to feel the hard plains of him against the softness of her. To know all the heat and desire and restrained passion that lurked under the surface directed at her.

She narrowed her eyes. “Fine, but later you’ll be begging for me to do more than just kiss you.” She took a few steps back, turned on her heel and left the room.

He followed her out a few seconds later, the wolf glittering in his eyes, some of the blue overtaken by gold.

She shivered. It felt as if a goose had danced on her grave at that moment.

“I doubt that, Michaela. No one makes me beg for anything,” he growled from behind her.

“We’ll see about that.”

Challenge more than accepted.