Mating Fever by Susan Hayes
Wolf Under Cover
The rumble of bike engines wasn’t quite loud enough to drown out the sound of thunder, but the storm was still some way off. The heat was oppressive and the asphalt shimmered in the heat as the miles ticked by. Off in the distance the horizon was marred by a wall of black clouds headed their way, and the storm looked like it would hit before they got to their destination.
Ramrod flipped open the visor of his helmet and sampled the air. All he could smell was dust and the baking road under his wheels. He called on his wolf, cracking the door of the beast’s cage open just enough for it to boost his senses.
The storm was closer than it looked. The wind carried the scent of wet asphalt and ozone. He dropped his visor and took a moment to make sure his wolf was secure again. The others had no idea what he was, and he needed to keep it that way. Shifters might have come out of the shadows, but most humans still reacted badly to the discovery that someone they knew could sport fangs and fur at any moment. He preferred to leave some things until the big reveal… and he wasn’t ready for that yet.
His train of thought got derailed when one of the other riders let out a whoop, gunned his engine and broke ranks to pass all but the lead bike.
He didn’t have to look to know it was Freak. the shit-for-brains kid the Club’s president had sent along on this run because he thought it would be a learning experience. As far as Rod was concerned, Freak needed to learn how to control his bike and his mouth before he learned anything else. God fucking help them if they had to ride any distance in the rain. The idiot was the best prospect the club had, which was fucking pathetic. Then again, most of what Rod had seen during his time with this club had been a shit show of violence, sex, and incompetence. Why should their recruiting be any better?
The club should be pulling out all the stops to make sure he saw nothing but their best. The newly named president of the Legion’s mother chapter had sent him to assess their club. If he didn’t like what he saw, then these assholes were in deep shit. Maybe enough to get them cut from the Legion MC club completely.
Another mile passed and Rod still couldn’t see anything but sun-baked dirt and open road. Where the fuck did this asshole live?
They’d left what little there was to the town of Cummingford miles back. He glanced over to the other riders but Ogre and Mutt wore blank expressions, and Freak was cackling like a lunatic as he wove his bike back and forth across the road. No help there.
No brains either.
Rod put a few more feet of distance between his bike and Freak’s. When the fucktard prospect lost control and kissed asphalt, he had no intention of getting caught in the wreckage. Ogre dropped back, too, which put the big, ugly, enforcer within shouting distance.
Rod flipped up his visor again and called out, “Where the fuck are we going, man? I got no plans to drive all the way to the coast today,”
Ogre grinned back at him, revealing the mouthful of twisted teeth that had given him his road name. “Not far. This guy likes his privacy, stays out here with the rocks and jackrabbits.” Ogre’s smile vanished. “Works to our advantage this time. No one to see or hear what we gotta do to him if he doesn’t have the product and the cash.”
“He’s the cook who fucked you guys over, right?”
Ogre nodded.
“Stupid fuck. He better have it.” Rod wondered if the meth cook knew how much shit he was in if they got there and he didn’t have what they’d come for. He didn’t have all the details, he didn’t need them. The cook had used too much of his own product and started beaking off to the wrong people. The cops tracked down a shipment that was in transit, busts were made, and now several of Ogre’s club brothers were waiting for their day in court for trafficking meth. It was a three-ring fucking circus, and from what Rod had seen so far, everyone in the club was a goddamned clown.
They left the main road a mile later, following a rock-pitted track until they came to a clearing with a decrepit looking barn and couple of RV’s that had seen better days. Dust-smeared windows and rusting walls. Every tire flat and half-rotten. A scrawny mutt started yapping as they parked their bikes and took off their brain buckets, but the moment Ogre barked back at him the dog got smart and took off, dragging his chain behind him as he took cover under the nearest RV.
The barn door opened, and a caricature of every junkie stereotype Rod knew shambled into view. Ghost pale, sunken eyes, and open sores on his face and hands. With all that going on, he looked like an extra from a low budget zombie movie. He had to be their cook.
“Hey, guys. Good to see you,” the cook muttered, looking less than happy to have guests.
“Stow the small talk, ya fucking tweaker. Do you have our shit or not?” Mutt demanded, while Ogre took up a threatening pose a few feet away.
“Yeah, Dwayne! Where’s our shit?” Freak added, then immediately clammed up when Rod shot him a dirty look. The kid needed to learn to shut his mouth.
“I got some of it…” Dwayne said, his fingers starting to twitch as he picked at his threadbare T-shirt.
“Not good enough. You fuckin’ know better. Snarl sent us out here to get what you owe us, or…” Mutt didn’t finish, he just shrugged and looked back at Ogre.
“Fuck, I did the best I could! You know I did! I cooked up a couple batches quick as I could, and I got a little money, but I don’t got all of it. But I got something better. A trade.” Dwayne’s teeth were clicking together he was nodding so hard.
“What the fuck could you possibly have to trade in this shit hole?” Mutt asked, gesturing around them.
“My sister. Half-sister, actually. She showed up a few days ago, looking to reconnect with family,” Dwayne said.
“And what, she’s rich? She going to pay your way?”
“No man, she’s broke. No job, no place to go. She’s crashing with me. You think Snarl would cut me a deal? You take her off my hands, and we call it even? I don’t need to be supporting some bitch I can’t even fuck.”
Rod’s gut twisted in revulsion. Was the little sleaze really asking if the president of the club wanted to take his sister in trade? Some things were supposed to be sacred, and at the top of the list was family. You didn’t fuck with your family, and you sure as hell didn’t trade them to a bastard like Snarl. He waited for Mutt to tell this asshole to fuck off.
“She hot? She better be fucking hot, man.” Mutt asked.
Son of a bitch. He couldn’t let this happen, but his options were limited. Very fucking limited.
“If she wasn’t my sister, I’d be doing her,” Dwayne said.
Freak cackled. “You’d do a chain-link fence, man. All you need is a fucking hole.”
“Where is she?” Mutt demanded.
“Making me a sammich. Want me to get her?”
“Not yet. Show me what else you got for us while I call Snarl. See if he’s even interested in this fucked-up horse trade.” Mutt ran a hand over his tattooed scalp and looked at Ogre. “You, come with us. You want to join us, Ramrod?”
Rod rolled his shoulders and nodded. “Beats standing around here watching the dust devils.”
He followed them into the smothering heat of the dimly lit barn and immediately regretted his decision. He didn’t leave though. This was what he was here for. He needed eyes on the goods and confirmation that this was the local club’s source. Once he had that, he could call in the cavalry and get the fuck away from these assholes.
The thought of being done with it all soon kept him from walking out of the hellish sweatbox of a barn. By the time his eyes had adjusted to the light, sweat tricked down his back and made his shirt cling to his body.
Mutt was on the phone, filling his president in on the situation in terse, clipped tones that didn’t bode well for Dwayne’s long-term survival. There wasn’t much in the barn apart from a few bales of moldy hay and a trestle table with a couple of dozen baggies strewn across it, each one full of white crystals. Crystal meth.
“See? I’ve been cooking. Good stuff, too.” Dwayne said, passing a shaking hand over the bags with an almost obscene tenderness.
“What I see ain’t enough to save your pathetic ass. We lost a shitload more than this in the raid.”
“I’ve got cash too. Tell Snarl I’m good for the rest. You know I am.”
Ogre started packing up the baggies, stuffing them into a backpack Rod had no fucking intention of carrying on the trip home. Not that he expected them to ask. If they had any brains at all, they’d make Freak play mule. It had to be the real reason the fool was here at all. He was the patsy if shit went sideways.
Where the fuck is the little shit, anyway?
He’d barely formed the thought when a woman started screaming. “Don’t touch me! Get your hands off! No!”
Rod turned around and ran out of the barn. Drugs, violence, and all manner of fuckery he could deal with, but rape wasn’t on the list. The sunlight had faded as the storm got close, but it was still bright enough to make Rod blink a few times before he could see what Freak was up to. Sure enough, the scrawny bastard had a woman pressed up against the side of one of the RV’s, grinding his hips against her as he laughed.
“Let her go, asshole!” Rod was across the dusty yard in seconds. He grabbed Freak by the back of his leathers, tossing him a few feet away. The next thing Rod knew, he had a curvy bundle of trembling female wrapped around him. Normally he’d be all for this plan, but it was going to be a problem if Freak decided to continue being a fucking idiot.
Things only got worse when his new attachment lifted her head to look at him. He found himself staring into a pair of big blue eyes framed by lashes the color of honey. He sucked in a breath to clear his head, but that only made it worse. All the blood in his body drained into his cock, leaving him with a hard-on and a head rush.
She’s fucking perfect.
“And she’s ours.” His wolf growled, prowling the back of his mind.
He tore his gaze away from those pretty eyes just as Freak was getting to his feet. The smaller man had blood on his face and murder in his mud-brown eyes.
Rod managed to peel the girl off and shove her behind him before Freak made his move. He wasn’t in any real danger. Even if he’d been an average human he could have handled this asshole, and he wasn’t either of those things.
Still, carelessness killed more of his kind than anything else, and he wasn’t ready to check out of this life just yet. Especially not until he got another whiff of the woman standing behind him.
His wolf had to be mistaken.
“Fuck you.” Freak screeched. “She’s going to be coming back with us, so what if I wanted first go instead of waiting at the back of the line?”
The smaller man came at him, fists raised, and his thumbs tucked inside his fingers just waiting to get broken the first time he hit anything. The fucking idiot didn’t even know how to fight decently. Why the hell were they letting this waste of space hang around the club?
Rod threw a haymaker and sent Freak sprawling. Then he planted a booted foot on his sternum and leaned in until the little asshole started to gasp and whimper.
“No patch, no snatch, you fucking know that. Snarl hasn’t even agreed to the deal yet, and even if he did, you’re a fuckin’ prospect, you haven’t earned the right to claim club property. Keep your dick in your pants and your mouth shut, asswipe.”
Rod heard a squeak of fear come from the woman currently cowering behind him. Yeah, this was going really fucking well. He knew what she was going to do now, and the idea of running after a scared woman in this fucking heat was not appealing to him.
Of course, his wolf thought it was the best idea ever. Fuck.
She was gone before he could grab her. She took off down the driveway, giving him an eyeful of long, blonde hair and a nicely rounded ass wrapped in a pair of faded jeans as she bolted for the road.
He went after her, cursing as his rock-hard dick took a beating with every step he took and his wolf howled inside his head.
Thankfully the chase didn’t last long. She lost one cheap, plastic shoe and the other fell apart as he ran after her. She tripped over it and tumbled face-first into the dirt. He was on her before she could get up again, and his dick got even harder as she fought and twisted beneath him, grinding her plush ass against his crotch until he was seeing stars.
“If you don’t stop wriggling, sweet cheeks, you and me are going to end up intimately acquainted right here and now.”
She froze, her next words coming out in a terse whisper. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Fuck you right here? Yes, I would.”
“But you made the other guy stop….”
He wanted to comfort her, but he couldn’t. He’d have to settle for scaring her into behaving until he could get her somewhere safe. “If you think that makes me some kind of hero, you’re wrong. I’m a bad man, sweet cheeks. A very bad man who wants to do very bad things to you. I’d just rather do them without an audience.”
“I’d rather not do them at all,” she muttered, but at least she quit struggling.
“That ship sailed the second your scum of a half-brother offered to trade you to save his own ass.”
She whimpered and turned her head, letting him take his first good look at her face. Feelings he’d thought long dead and gone surged through him. Protective feelings and desires far beyond a fast fuck with a warm body. She had petal-pink lips, high cheekbones and golden skin softer than silk. There was a streak of dust on her cheek, and he found himself brushing it away with his fingers, enjoying the brief contact more than he should.
“I’m not going with you,” she declared. There were tears shimmering in her eyes, and Rod knew he was fucked six ways from Sunday. There was no way he was leaving an innocent like her here with Dwayne, and if he let the others take her… No. That wasn’t happening either.
His wolf was in full agreement. All he was getting from the damned creature was lust, protectiveness, and a word he was not ready to deal with until he had liquor in his hand. Mate.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Ignoring his wolf, his hard-on, and the intoxicating scent pouring off the woman, he pushed himself up and stood. Then he reached down and pulled her back on her feet, one hand still locked around her wrist.
“You don’t have a choice. So, sweet cheeks, you got a name?” He started walking back to the others but stopped when he realized she wasn’t following him. With a sigh, he jerked her into his arms and hoisted her over one shoulder in a fireman’s carry, her ass in the air and her feet kicking in protest.
“Put me down!”
“Nope. You had your chance to play nice, you lost it. Now, we do this my way.” He slapped her on the ass and headed back to where everyone else was waiting, mind racing as he tried to figure out what the hell to do next.
He didn’t get three steps before the skies opened and a deluge of rain came pouring down. This day kept getting better and better.
He grunted and shifted her on his shoulders as they walked. “Let’s try this again. What’s your name?”
“Lily. My name is Lily White, and I think I hate you.”
