Vivian Arend - Wolf Flight

Tad held the door open for her, and as she stepped past his arms, she knew she was done for. There was music, quiet and jazzy. The only smoke was from BBQ ribs. And the lighting was perfect to see Tad’s eyes widen as he helped remove her coat.

“Fuck. Oops, sorry, but holy cow, you look good. I don’t think I’ve ever…” Tad swallowed hard, his gaze tracing up the length of her legs to where her skirt ended high above her knees.

Fine. It wouldn’t have met the Catholic Girls School Uniform Requirements but Missy was short and she needed help to make her legs look longer. At least that was her excuse and she was sticking to it.

If she’d thought it through more she would have known this evening was going to be a bundle of dynamite waiting to detonate. Then she would have worn her baggy one-piece fleece hoodie that hung past her knees and a sloppy pair of sweat pants.

Liar.

She wouldn’t have. She wanted Tad to drool over her. It made something deep inside very satisfied to see the admiration and the fire in his eyes.

She took a quick glance around. They would be safer sitting at the tall stools in front of the bar itself. Instead, Tad held her elbow and led her back toward a small booth tucked to one side of the bar. It was too late to protest, so she slid onto the soft leather upholstery behind the tiny table, her knees brushing Tad’s as he followed her.

“What are you drinking tonight?” One of the servers stood waiting beside their table. Tad slipped his arm behind Missy, resting it along the back of the seat cushion, caressing her shoulders.

She was going to die. She really was. “Do they have—?”

“Sweetheart, first I’m gonna need to see some proof you’re of legal age,” the waitress interrupted.

Tad chortled as Missy dug into her purse cussing under her breath. She handed over her photo ID and poked Tad in the ribs to get him to stop. It really wasn’t funny anymore.

The waitress handed it back with a wink. “Our bartender can mix you any drink without looking it up. You name a drink he can’t produce and it’s on the house.”

Missy glanced at the ceiling. She shouldn’t do this. Not with needing to keep control over her body around Tad.

“What are you up to?” Tad teased with a squeeze to her shoulder.

Electrical lust shot through her and her mouth went dry. To hell with it. A challenge was a challenge and she could use a stiff drink. She smiled at the waitress.

“I’d like a Skip and Go Naked please.”

Tad choked.

The waitress winked at her. “No problem, sweetheart. Tad, what’ll it be for you tonight?”

“Rum and Coke, please.”

The waitress left and Missy watched as she made her way back to the bar. She put in their orders and the bartender’s head flicked in their direction. He lifted a hand and pointed at her, shaking his finger.

“What’s a Skip and Go Naked, other than something that causes my heart to do double time?” Tad slipped his fingers over hers and Missy’s mind drifted. She was supposed to concentrate on…something. Tad’s beautiful brown eyes stared at her like she was the main dish at an all-you-can-eat dessert bar. Time slowed as she fell into the depths of his gaze. She leaned closer, his mouth inches away. If he’d ease a little more in her direction she be able to—

“You tried to trick me with that one.” The bartender stood in front of them, a pale pink concoction in his hand. Missy made herself smile instead of baring her teeth at the man.

Her hormones were becoming a serious issue tonight.

“You thought if you missed the ‘Hop’ I wouldn’t know it. Hmmm? Well, you’ve got yourself one Skip and Go Naked. I left out the grenadine ’cause I figured that must be the hop.”

Missy forced a laugh as she accepted the glass. “Actually, I’ve never heard of the Hop part. I’m glad you knew how to make one. It’s been a long time. Thank you.”

He kissed her hand and strutted back to his bar, king of all he surveyed. Missy took a short sip of the sweet drink before glancing at Tad. His eyes were dark, his face intense as he glared after the bartender. Missy frowned. “Tad? You okay?”

Tad shook his head like he was in a daze. “Sorry about that. I don’t like how that fellow leers and touches everyone.” He threw back half his drink and stood. “Come on, let’s dance.” He pulled her into his arms and Missy’s vocal cords seized up. Tad folded her into him like a pillow into a slip. Every part of him nestled warm and smooth around her, solid and strong in all the right places. Warmth radiated from his core, and Missy concentrated on breathing in a slow, even rhythm. Hyperventilating on the dance floor. Wonder if anyone ever called the ambulance for that one?

Missy laid her head against Tad’s chest and listened to his heartbeat. She was short enough that even with her high heels, his chin rested on top of her head, his arms reaching down to support her. She draped her hands around him, twining her fingers into the hair at his neckline. Tad hummed with pleasure.

As they swayed together to the bluesy music, Missy wondered if what she felt was possible. An untriggered male and a runaway Omega wolf, there was a strange combination. She closed her eyes and relaxed the tight reins she’d been keeping on herself. Tad dropped his hands and ran them over her back, down her hips, snuggling her tighter against his body, a rock-hard ridge pressing into her belly. The scent of his arousal wafted by on the air and she gasped back a groan. She wanted to taste so badly.

It was too much to continue to resist. Every nerve in her body screamed for him and she lost control. One flavour denied, she took the pleasure she could reach. Missy locked her fingers together, drew his mouth down and suckled his tongue. No gentle introduction, no soft finesse or enticement. Simple and hard desire drove her, his taste not even taking the edge off her need.

She slipped one leg on either side of his, pressed her heated core into his thigh with the thought that some release would be better than none. Tad seemed to read her mind. He feasted on her mouth like a starving man while he danced them into the shadows at the edge of the floor, away from any curious onlookers.

Tad dragged his lips from hers, his dark eyes snapping with need as he cupped her face in his hand. “You’re playing with wildfire. Is this what you want? In public? Because we can go back to your hotel.”

Missy gave a little jump and forced Tad to catch her. Going back to her room was out of the question. She couldn’t—she wouldn’t dare—have sex with Tad without him being aware of what his heritage was. She wasn’t the one to tell him. But for tonight she was going to grasp the only thing she could and to hell with the consequences.

She wrapped her legs around him tighter, pressing against the solid ridge of his cock until he made an instinctive thrust at her. She let her head drop back, her hands clinging to his neck as he supported her hips in his hands. Somehow he shuffled them farther from the dance floor into a dusky little nook.

“More. Harder,” Missy whispered. All her nerve endings flowed to one spot at the juncture of her thighs where he rubbed and thrust until the sensation of pleasure started to peak and a low sound escaped her lips. Tad covered her mouth with his hungry kisses as he increased the pounding against her, pressing her back into the wall behind them, each stroke caressing her clit like they were skin on skin.

The edge approached and she squeezed hard with her legs, adding the final bit of pressure she needed. She nipped at Tad’s lip, breaking the skin and drawing blood that she sucked with a cry of pleasure. She melted from head to toe and let him catch her, her body uncontrollable as her orgasm rippled through her. Tad thrust another time or two, pressing as deep as the fabric between them would allow before he hissed and tensed as he came.