Vivian Arend - Wolf Line

His damn martyr complex had turned this accidental excursion into a hell of a lot more work than he’d done for years. Coupled with the fact he’d rubbed Chad’s ass the wrong way that first day…

Yeah, the ability to make friends and influence people, he had it. His parents always warned him that his quirky sense of humour was going to get him in trouble someday, and it seemed someday had arrived. Chad escorted him to the dirtiest jobs and subtly gloated how if Mark was fortunate and worked hard, maybe someday he too could be one of the upper class and not the slave labour.

Jared wanted to buy the bloody cruise ship and shove it up Chad’s upper-class ass.

So now they were on day four, nearly halfway through the cruise, and he wondered if it was even worth trying to ditch the ship. The work sucked, he missed his coffee maker, but if he left, there was another concern to think about, also involving Chad.

Keri.

He’d watched her from a distance when he could. Which was creepy as all get out in a way, and not totally his idea. He was uneasy about Keri, and making sure there was nothing bad going on with Chad was important. But more than that, stalking her in his few spare moments was the only way he could make his wolf happy enough to get any rest at all. The creature was insistent they go drop in on the woman. Maybe shred a few layers of clothing off her body. Put a real smile on her face—and his wolf had resorted to making the images popping to mind as specific as possible, which was totally dirty pool on the beast’s part.

His wolf wanted the woman, or more correctly the woman’s wolf, with something close to obsession.

Keri wasn’t happy. When she smiled, it never reached her eyes. And while he hadn’t been around all the time, he’d seen enough to notice that the few times he’d had her under observation, she’d ducked away from Chad like he was bad business.

Had they had a lovers’ spat?

Jared didn’t trust the guy. Seemed the type to take things out on a girl to get what he wanted.

There was nothing to be done about it now but wait out the rest of the voyage. At least he was due some time off—the schedule clearly put him free for the rest of the day after he finished this job. Even slave master Chad couldn’t change the master calendar without approval and paying overtime. Which the asshole wouldn’t do because Jared suspected the extra cash would be considered a wonderful thing.

Jared cranked the wrench a little harder. Yup. This afternoon he was going to go find a quiet place on deck and suntan. Sleep. Maybe buy a beer and chill…

Ah, who was he kidding? He was going to have a shower, jerk off— again , then find Keri and try to silently follow her. Again.

Obsessed. It wasn’t just the beast who had it bad.

He tightened the bolt one more time, and the upper arm of the pipes broke apart, cold water spraying everywhere. A shot struck him directly in the eyes, and he grasped blindly for the water shut-off.

By the time he’d managed to stop the spray, he was soaked, and his only moderately dry item, his work pants, he used on the puddle at his feet. Jared sat forlornly on the floor, wishing he was five and could enjoy a good pout. Damn cruise ship. Damn water taps.

He chuckled. Poor baby Jared. He snapped himself out of his funk, sopped up the floor and put things into place the best he could before using his walkie-talkie.

“Sorry, guys, the master line snapped. Someone needs to bring extra parts to replace it.”

One of the team he’d worked with earlier responded quickly. “I can finish it up for you. It’s your afternoon off. Which room you in?”

Jared told him then looked down at himself. “If I leave my wet stuff here, can you take it for me?”

His co-worker laughed. “You did that good a job, did you? No worries. I’ll bring a cart with me to clean up. I’ll hang your things in the staff-room bath.”

“Awesome. I’m heading back to my quarters for dry gear. I don’t think the passengers would appreciate seeing me streaking with a pile of dripping clothing soaking the carpets in my wake.”

“Yeah, the carpets would be tough to explain to management.”

Jared tucked his wet things into the tub before shifting to wolf. He could probably have walked the halls naked—most shifters were pretty cool about stuff like that—but he wasn’t sure of the exact rules regarding crew and passengers, and at this point, it wasn’t as if he wanted any extra attention his direction. Walking in his wolf form? No one would take a second glance.

He grabbed his work belt in his mouth. That was the one item he couldn’t afford to leave behind. Chad would probably charge him triple to replace it if anything went missing. It wasn’t the money; it was the gloating Jared couldn’t stand to anticipate.

He got himself out of the room and trotted downward, taking the stairs, slipping past the restaurants and games rooms. Something wonderful was being cooked for lunch, and he paused to enjoy the rich aroma on the air.

Hmmm. Dry clothes, lunch, then stalking.

With his entire afternoon schedule planned, he resumed the trip into the depths of the ship and his cabin. The wonderful smell of lunch faded, only to be replaced by something else even more mouthwatering. Jared sped up, the tools in his belt jingling as he trotted forward, following the most incredible scent he’d ever experienced. It made his fur stand on end and all kind of happy little pheromones leap to life.

Every step increased his need. His eagerness to discover what exactly was before him drove him to a near run. He only slowed enough to stop the tools from shaking free from the tool belt and smacking him in the face.

Incredibly, the trail of scent led directly to his cabin door. He lowered himself to the floor and sniffed cautiously. A cloud of the most potent aphrodisiac surrounded him, and he barely contained his howl of delight.

His mate?

Was that scent tantalizing him really his mate?

His wolf side roared to life and urged him to get his ass in gear. He shifted back to human, and his ability to smell cut off abruptly, as usual. The lack of olfactory input in this form allowed him to control his hands enough to sneak his room card from his tool belt and undo the lock.

Jared pushed the heavy door open and stared into Keri’s wide eyes as she sat in the middle of his bed, tangled in the sheets.

Her tongue wasn’t where it was supposed to be.

In the five seconds since the door had begun to open—heart-attack type symptoms electrifying her body as she sprang up to face whoever was about to discover her doing unexplainable things to a crew member’s bed—she had opened her mouth to scream then stopped when her mate’s now-familiar face came into view.

Something still felt odd. Her brain seemed to bubble and froth until comprehension finally sank in. Her tongue? She must have swallowed it. There certainly was something stuck in her throat as he stood with one arm holding the door open, his naked body framed in the opening like an erotic work of art.

Naked. Oh my.

She started at his toes and worked her way up. While he’d been impressive in his jeans, he did naked even better. There was an incredible look to a naked wolf—the cut of their muscles slightly sharper than cat or bear shifters. And my, oh my , she was appreciative of all his muscles. Fixated on them, in fact. Engrossed in the way his thigh muscles flexed as he stepped into the room. Her gaze trickled upward, and that damn tongue stuck in her throat got in the way again as she attempted to swallow. He was…more than sufficient above the thighs as well.