Marisa Chenery - A Werewolf at the Falls

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As a cocktail waitress at Fallsview Casino Resort, Jorja has been witness to some brow-raising moments. But she’s never been part of one until a hot-as hell patron in her section pulls her into his lap and kisses her senseless. Talk about a generous tipper. Lady luck has smiled on her indeed.
What was supposed to be a weekend of harmless gambling takes a dramatic turn when Kian’s wolf scents his would-be mate. Consuming her lips as if his life depends on it in the middle of a crowded casino is bad enough—but giving in to his mating urge and claiming her before she knows his true nature is nothing short of a disaster. And when a fellow pack member shows up and lets the wolf out of the bag, Kian is forced to admit not only who and what he is, but what he did. He may need more than luck to pull this one off.

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A Werewolf at the Falls

Big City Pack - Oh, Canada! - 2

by

Marisa Chenery

Chapter One

Jorja walked into the Fallsview Casino Resort ready to face another evening shift as a cocktail waitress. The casino was one of two at Niagara Falls, on the Canadian side of the border. She’d worked there for just over a year. She didn’t mind the job, and especially didn’t mind the tips she made.

Crossing through the casino, Jorja glanced over at one of the blackjack tables and had to do a double-take when her gaze landed on two extremely good-looking men sitting there. One had longish, black hair while the other wore his blond hair short. The dark-haired man snagged her attention more.

She noticed the men sat at one of the tables she’d be serving. A few butterflies fluttered inside her stomach. She’d be able to get a better look at the dark-haired man. Not that she thought she stood a chance with him. But Jorja could do all the looking she wanted. And look she would.

Since it was a little early for the start of her shift, Jorja headed to the bar where she saw Connie, who she would be taking over for. The woman gave her a smile when Jorja drew even with her.

“Hey, Jorja. How goes it?”

“Not bad, Connie. And you?”

“I can say the same.” Connie nudged her with her elbow. “Did you see the two pieces of eye candy on your way in?”

Of course Jorja knew exactly who Connie referred to—the two hunks at the blackjack table. “How could I not? I’d have to be blind not to. Have they been here long?”

“All day, and have been drinking the entire time.”

Jorja frowned. “I guess that means I’ll have to cut them off soon.”

Connie shook her head. “Not yet. Those two can hold their alcohol. They’re just starting to feel good, if you know what I mean. I’ve never seen anyone able to drink like they have and not be passed out on the floor. And they have to be loaded cash-wise to afford all the drinks, and make some of the hefty bets I’ve seen them make.”

“I’ll keep an eye on them, though. They have to reach their limit at some point.”

“Let’s hope it isn’t for a little while, for your sake. They tip really well,” Connie said with a laugh. “You should go put your purse and coat away, because I’m out of here soon.”

“I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Jorja left Connie and went to the room in back where the staff had lockers to store their belongings while working. She put her purse and coat inside hers. Before she left the room, she gave her skirt a couple tugs and smoothed the front of her blouse by running her hands down it.

After she returned to the bar, Jorja watched Connie walk toward her from the direction of the blackjack table where the two men sat. She then listened as the other woman placed an order with the bartender.

“They’re still okay to serve?” Jorja asked.

“Yeah. I’ll let you give them their drinks. The blond ordered the beer while the dark-haired one wants the vanilla vodka.”

“Are you sure? What about the tip?”

“You have it. Like I said before, they’ve tipped really well. Since I’m now officially off the clock, I’m leaving. Have a good night, Jorja.”

“You too.”

Once Connie left, Jorja placed the two drinks the bartender had readied on her tray. With a deep breath, she headed over to the blackjack table. She felt those stupid butterflies in her stomach the closer she came. At age twenty-five, she would have thought she’d be way past the stage where she became nervous at being around a man she found attractive. That wasn’t the case, though. She just hoped she wouldn’t make a fool of herself by stumbling over her words when she served them. That tended to happen as well.

Jorja arrived at the table and stood in between the two chairs the men sat on. She reached to give the blond his beer first. She’d just placed the glass of vanilla vodka on the table in front of the dark-haired one when she found herself grabbed around the waist and pulled onto his lap. She let out a small gasp, which ended up muffled as his mouth landed on hers.

Jorja felt her body go up in instant flames as the man hungrily moved his lips over hers. His tongue delved inside her mouth, stroking and tasting. Her eyes closed as she kissed him back. She forgot where they were, that she sat on the lap of a strange man in the middle of a busy casino, kissing him back as if she needed him to survive.

His hand buried in her long hair and held her exactly where he wanted her. Jorja barely held back a moan when she felt the length of his erection pressing into her backside. Her pussy clenched. A throbbing ache between her legs matched the rapid beat of her heart.

Finally when one of the slot machines played the sounds it made when someone won, Jorja came to her senses. Her eyes flew open and she pushed at the man’s chest. His response was to hold her tighter and make a surprisingly real-sounding animalistic growl.

Feeling desperate—knowing all of this would be recorded by the surveillance cameras in the ceiling—Jorja grabbed a fistful of his longish, black hair and pulled his head back until he was forced to break their kiss. Her gaze landed on his eyes, which she swore seemed to glow mutedly for a split second before they appeared to be a normal shade of light brown.

“Mine,” he said in a husky voice that seemed to fan the embers of her desire to life once again.

“Aw shit,” said his friend. “First Atticus and now you.”

His friend’s words seemed to distract him enough for Jorja to break out of his embrace and slip off his lap. Flustered, and still turned-on, she fled, not even bothering to collect the money the men owed for the drinks.

Kian found it more than a little difficult to get himself back under control. But it was understandable, considering the momentous thing that had just taken place. And being three sheets to the wind didn’t exactly help matters, either. He’d found his mate. Seemingly out of nowhere her scent slammed into him, causing his mating urge to go into high gear.

His cock had gone instantly rock hard, and all he could think about was claiming the female who would be his. Realizing she stood at his side, and reacting on instinct alone, Kian pulled his would-be mate onto his lap and kissed her as the mating urge demanded.

Only her physically pulling his mouth off hers had stopped him from trying something more than just a kiss. The scent of her arousal had intoxicated his already drink-befuddled mind, making him completely forget where he was. His whole being had centered on the woman in his arms.

Now that she was gone, Kian found his brain worked marginally better, but not by much. He gave his head a shake, hoping to clear it more. All that managed to do was make the room spin. Now, of all times, he’d finally reached the point of being a little drunk. Being a werewolf, that was no small task. It literally took three times the amount of alcohol a mortal could handle—and one who had a high tolerance at that—to give him a buzz. His friend Soren and he had worked on their present condition all day.

“Damn it,” Soren said, his voice sounding a bit slurred. “You would have to up and do this right now. Couldn’t you have waited until after our gambling weekend was over?”

Kian scowled. “As if I have any control over it.” He looked at the mortal blackjack dealer who watched them avidly. “You know what.”

To his ears, his voice didn’t sound any better than Soren’s. He reached for his glass of vodka and took a big sip. Having ordered it straight up, it burned all the way down.

“Are you sure you should be drinking that?” Soren asked. “Considering what just happened to you, I would think you’d want to cool it on the alcohol.”

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