The Wild Moon by Riley Storm

Chapter Sixteen

I half-flopped into the barstool and signaled at Jakoby, the bartender.

“The usual,” I said when the giant Irishman looked my way and smiled through his bushy beard.

“Sure thing, Dani,” he said, starting to mix up my drink.

I had no idea what it was called, but it had a bunch of colored booze and was tastily addictive. That was all that mattered to me.

“And a water, if you don’t mind,” I added.

The fight hadn’t taken much out of me, but the adrenaline was fading, and I knew I had to hydrate. I wasn’t wounded, but dancing around for fifteen minutes like that still had me working up a sweat.

“No problem, Dee,” Jakoby said, swiftly filling a glass with water and sliding it down the bar top toward me.

I nabbed it with casual ease and downed half of it in one go, barely stifling a sigh of relief at the cool, refreshing wave that worked its way to my stomach. Sometimes, water just hit the spot.

“For someone who’s been here a short while, you sure are making friends quickly,” a voice said from my left.

I slowly turned my head. At some point after I’d sat down, someone had come and occupied that seat.

He was dressed in an immaculate black suit, the material fitting him like it was made for him. As I took in more, I decided it probably had been. The shoes were shiny and expensive-looking, and the watch on his wrist screamed wealth. I didn’t know who he was, but it was obvious he thought he was a big deal.

That impression died when I took in his face.

Pale skin contrasted fiercely with the black of his suit, but that wasn’t what caught my attention. His eyes burned with a blue fire, practically glowing from the inside out, they were so bright. I inhaled sharply as they locked on to me with a stunning directness I simply wasn’t used to.

He had smooth lines and sharp, angular corners to his face, sweeping cheekbones that framed a jaw straight out of a fashion magazine. This man was walking sex, and I could practically feel it oozing out of him and catching me in its web. Like I was nothing but prey.

His predatory gaze did little to ruin that illusion. Whoever he was, he was used to having whoever he wanted. Most women would have trouble saying no to him, and I knew it wouldn’t be easy for me either.

He smiled at me as I stared at him, running a hand through his blond hair, letting it fall messily back into place. It still looked good. I very carefully sat up straighter as he looked at me how a lion did a wounded antelope. Like he was the hunter, and I was his prey.

Not happening tonight, I thought, for once thankful that I was on my cycle. Usually, I hated how my body decided it despised me once a month for not putting a baby in it, but this one time, it actually came in handy, helping to dampen the arousal I could feel flickering to life within me.

This man was dangerous. I had to remember that. Besides, his come-hither looks and what appeared to be a rock-solid body likely meant he had no idea how to pleasure a woman. He was used to not having to try, I’m sure, and I didn’t feel like adding my name to what must be a long list of disappointed lovers.

Yet, for some reason, my wolf disagreed with me. She spoke up, vocally so. This man was attractive to her.

Are we into bad boys and stuff now? I asked her. When the hell had that happened? I was surprised that she was so active all of a sudden. Since we’d left Seguin behind for good, she’d been quiet. Until now.

Something about this man was attractive to my predator side, and that made me even more uneasy about the entire thing. I leaned into my wolf, using her abilities to test the air, but I couldn’t pick up anything that smelled off about him. He wasn’t a shifter, that was for sure.

“Is that a problem?” I asked, replying at last to his initial comment.

“Not for me,” Mr. Unknown said with a smile, leaning back against the bar and staring out at the rest of the open space.

I waited, but he didn’t say anything else. He simply continued to slowly sip at the bottle of beer in his right hand. Ignoring me.

What was the point in initiating conversation, then? I slowly turned away from Mr. Unknown. No way would I give this overdressed fop the satisfaction of having me talk to him more.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the bar as Jakoby brought my drink over. I took a long sip of it, listening to the sounds behind me.

The bar itself was a public establishment, registered and all that fun stuff, but it was invite-only on weekends and occasionally during the week. That way, only trusted patrons were allowed in, meaning they could host their underground fight network without fear of reprisal from the law.

Tables that would normally be laid out in the center of the room were stacked beside the bar to create more room, and I looked idly in the mirror behind Jakoby, watching the cage. It was empty now. My fight had been the last one scheduled for the evening.

I wondered more about Mr. Unknown. Did he show up for the fight? Or just after? Why was he here, and why give me that line if he didn’t intend on saying more?

Beside me, he continued to people-watch. I chuckled internally. I was a shifter. A predator by nature, used to stalking my prey, taking the time necessary to get what I wanted. This man, he exuded the same attitude, but he wasn’t truly a predator. He was human. If he thought I was going to grow impatient first, he was in for a rude awakening.

Or so I told myself. The truth was probably a little grayer than that.

I couldn’t deny that I was intrigued by him.

In that instant, I knew I was going to lose the battle. I’d gone and admitted to myself that I wanted to know more about him. It grated to know he’d beaten me. I didn’t like losing—even when I was paid for it—but I could be gracious about it.

“Do you have many friends here?” I asked, turning to face him.

The smug look of victory flashed through his eyes, but like a true professional, he didn’t linger on it. I tilted my head in acknowledgment, letting him know I was fully aware of the little game we’d played. I wanted him to know that I’d chosen to break the silence, that my speaking wasn’t done out of ignorance.

It made me like him more. This man was a professional. Used to getting his way, perhaps, but not an asshole about it. He just enjoyed the game.

“A few,” he admitted with a tiny smile.

I swallowed against the sudden weightlessness in my stomach when he did that. I was so unprepared for my body to have that sort of reaction that I panicked and, desperate to do something to stall for time, I downed the rest of my drink.

Oops.

“Just a few?” I said as the liquid burned pleasantly into my stomach.

What am I doing?

“It’s hard to make true friends in my business,” he said quietly, his eyes sweeping the rest of the bar. “So, yes, just a few. Real friends.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “People like that are too few and far between.”

“So,” Mr. Unknown said. “Will I be seeing you around here more often?”

It was my turn to smile. “I suppose you’ll have to come back and find out for yourself,” I said, deciding to play it a bit mysterious.

Mr. Unknown chuckled, the smooth, velvety sound an instant point of attraction. Was there anything about this man that didn’t ooze sex? I swear he could crook a finger at me and I’d explode simply from imagining what he could do with it. Okay, maybe not literally, but everything about him was designed to be as beautiful as possible.

From the messy, light blond hair to the pale skin, sharp jaw and suit that he wore like a second skin. This man was dangerous. Human or not, he was an alpha predator of his kind, and I knew it. Worse, he knew it. I suspected he was holding back in giving me the full treatment, though I couldn’t figure out why.

“It’s not often someone spars with me,” he said, still smiling.

Is that what I was doing? Because it felt like I was trying my best simply to stay afloat. Maybe that’s more than he’s used to? Maybe he’s used to women simply submitting instantly, doing as he pleases.

My mind wandered, curious as to whether he had a place nearby, because a part of me wouldn’t mind submitting to him. I’d never been with a real man, and all my senses were screaming at me that this man was one. That he could do what my ex never could.

Besides, where was the harm? I could take him if he truly tried something wrong. I wasn’t going to be in any danger, and in my sex-deprived brain, that was the perfect time to submit. When it was all for fun. And pleasure. Yes, lots of pleasure, that much I knew he would give me.

Maybe life in the city doesn’t have to be as bad as I thought it would, I thought, already mentally preparing to leave with him, even though he’d not invited me.

I leaned in just a hair, eager to draw in more of his scent, that rich, oaky aroma that I’d picked up a time or two already, completely at odds with the smell of booze and stale cigars filling the rest of the room. As I did, I stiffened, my nostrils filling with another scent. One I had hoped never to smell again.

There was an Aldridge in the crowd.