Last Call: Kamikaze

Moira Rogers

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Copyright ©2008 Moira Rogers

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ISBN: 978-1-60521-048-3
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Editor: Crystal Esau
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

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Last Call: Kamikaze

Moira Rogers

Zoe Bennett is an inexperienced werewolf in the grip of her mating cycle. With no
pack and no mate, Zoe must brave the supernatural crowds of Last Call, the bar

where your drink order tells everyone what you need.

Kamikaze: Werewolf in heat, looking for a temporary mate.

The chase is on, and security specialist Connor O’Malley intends to win, if only

because the sweet young woman at the bar looks unprepared for what the night
might bring, in and out of the bedroom. Little does he know that, when he catches
her, he may not be satisfied being just a temporary mate.

Chapter One

Zoe Bennett needed to fuck someone.

It was a rather shocking reality, one that alarmed her as she slipped through Last

Call’s crowded dance floor. Being alarmed by it didn’t make it easier to ignore,

however. Goosebumps rose on her skin every time a stranger brushed against her. If

that stranger happened to be a fellow werewolf -- a male werewolf -- her nipples

tightened and she had to fight off a shudder of pure need.

She needed it tonight. Her fingers clenched around the menu she’d picked up

from next to the door, creasing it as she finally broke free of the writhing mass of bodies

clogging the dance floor. She needed it, and nothing -- not shyness, not her natural

inhibitions, nothing -- could stop that need. Not now.

Three wide steps from the floor led up to the low platform that held the main

attraction of Last Call: a long, slightly curved bar with fifteen stools and a wide corridor

behind it. Three more bars crowded against the other walls of the large room, but this

was the bar. The bar where the drinks were incidental.

The seats never stayed filled for long. Now they were empty except for the left-

most stool, which held a young man with pale skin and sharp looking fangs that he

flashed whenever he laughed. His companion, a duskily tanned young woman, leaned

closer and ran her tongue along his ear as Zoe watched.

Zoe shivered and set her foot on the lowest step. Nervousness rose, but the need

burning in her pushed her up to the second one.

By the third step she could feel the curious stares on her back. She ignored them

and closed the distance between herself and the smooth mahogany of the bar. Her

hands shook a little as she slapped the menu down and sought the bartender’s eyes.

“I… I have an order.”

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 6 -

His skin was the same color as the bar, and his smooth, shaved head gleamed

under the low light. A small, high-tech looking headset curved over his head,

something that looked like it might serve as a microphone as well. He smiled at her and

nodded to the crumpled menu in front of her. “On or off the menu?”

“On.” She smoothed the menu out and turned it over, her gaze sliding down the

list of specials. Last Call house drinks, each with its own meaning. Its own message.

And there was only one message she had for the men of the bar tonight. Take me if you

can. “Kamikaze, please.”

He nodded and reached up to tap the side of the headset he wore. His strong,

deep voice cut in over the music, filling the bar and attracting the attention of most of its

patrons. “Last call for the lady in black. Kamikaze, coming up.” He released the button

and winked at her as the music resumed its previous volume.

Zoe slid onto the stool at the far right of the bar and struggled not to look at the

dance floor as the bartender made a show of mixing her drink, a process so impressive

it bordered on performance art. It made a good distraction, one which gave her an

excuse not to turn around and watch the crowd behind her. She could feel the male

werewolves approaching, and their sudden, intense interest made her skin tingle.

Tradition declared that no one approach her before she had her drink. Zoe

ignored the appraising stares and tried to smooth the wrinkles out of her menu again.

The back was a neat list, divided into sections. Vampire, werewolf, witch, fae… Plain black

type delineated the various clientele of Last Call, along with the “specials” peculiar to

each kind. She slid her finger down the page, past the bold Werewolf heading until she

found kamikaze.

Werewolf in heat, looking for a temporary mate.

* * *

Connor stared at the woman on the dais and frowned. He wasn’t exactly a Last

Call regular, but he’d been in often enough to know she wasn’t the type of woman who

usually patronized the bar’s more exotic services.

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Last Call: Kamikaze

- 7 -

She was wearing blue jeans, for one thing. Not a low-riding pair of designer

ones, either. Serviceable jeans, faded by wear and not fashion. Her T-shirt was similarly

styled -- understated and solid black except for the letters “PEBKAC” across the front.

He grinned. Problem exists between keyboard and chair.

He rubbed his thumb over his beer bottle as his eyes followed the curves of her

body. She wasn’t rail thin. Instead, she had the kind of body a man could wrap his

hands around. The kind he had no trouble picturing bent over in front of him. And she

needs a mate.

No, he told himself. You’re here to update the security software. Do it and get out.

Men were already gathering near the base of the steps, drawn by the lure of a

female in the clutches of her mating instinct. They looked tense, hungry; ready to

compete for the pleasure of a woman who needed sex, whose scent would be an

aphrodisiac to any male werewolf.

She shifted nervously on the stool, her eyes drawn to the small knot of men who

were poised, waiting for the bartender to deliver her drink. She knew she’d be pounced,

he could see it in her eyes as they darted around the room. She’d be chased.

He wondered, perhaps with a bit of jealousy, who would catch her.

Her gaze clashed with his, and Connor raised his drink in salute.

She blushed. She actually blushed as she turned away and stared at the counter

again. The bartender returned, her drink in hand, and Connor could see the tense set of

her shoulders as she watched him place the glass in front of her. Her hands shook a

little as she slid her credit card across the counter and accepted a small, magnetic key to

one of the upstairs rooms in return.

More than just the werewolves were watching her now. A kamikaze almost

always guaranteed a good show, no matter how shy or plain the woman. She seemed to

feel the pressure as she wrapped her fingers around her drink. She lifted it to her lips

and hesitated for a heartbeat.

Then she drank the entire thing in one gulp. Someone in the crowd cheered

loudly enough to be heard over the music, and someone else let loose a piercing catcall.

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Last Call: Kamikaze

- 8 -

Connor watched as she hastily shoved the key in her back pocket and shot off the

dais and away from the men gathered around it, disappearing into the crowd. She was

either very nervous… or she wanted the chase.

He found himself moving toward her, cursing himself with every step.

Whoever was in charge of the music had a sense of humor. He was still five feet

away from her when the upbeat pop song changed, bled into a savage industrial song

with a primal bass rhythm.

She was watching him when another man stepped up behind her and slid an

arm around her waist. She stiffened and whipped her head to the side, her snarl just

loud enough to be heard over the music.

The man backed off but another slid in beside her. She ignored him, her gaze still

locked with Connor’s. Her new suitor took her lack of response as encouragement and

hooked a hand over her hip.

That earned a reaction. She spun around and snarled again, taking a step back

when she realized three men had gathered behind her. She might be nervous, but

Connor had no doubts now that the competition excited her.

The voice in his head protested. He ignored it and reached into her pocket,

plucking out her key. He held it in front of her as he bent close to her ear. “Do you want

to go upstairs with one of them, or with someone who knows what the geeky slogan on

your T-shirt means?”

She stepped back against him, molding her body to his. Her ass rubbed against

his cock as she shimmied a little in time with the music. “Dance with me.” Her hand

came up and snatched the key away, and she shoved it into her front pocket this time as

she ground back against him.

He set his beer bottle on a table at the edge of the dance floor, not caring that it

was occupied, and wrapped his hands around her hips. “What’s your name,

Kamikaze?”

“Zoe.” She hitched in a breath and slid her hands over his, and he could feel the

barely leashed need in her, already threatening to boil over. She gasped as she rubbed

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Last Call: Kamikaze

- 9 -

back against him again, and when she spoke, it was low and breathless. “What’s your

name?”

“Connor.” He thrust against her ass and she drew a sharp breath. “Do you really

want to dance?” He trailed his lips over her neck and nibbled at the soft skin.

One of the men to the left growled a soft challenge. Zoe twisted in his arms and

pressed against him, and he felt those gorgeous breasts rub against his chest. “Three

days,” she panted in a hoarse voice. “It started three days ago. Can you make it stop?”

“Jesus, sweetheart.” Three days of the kind of clawing desire that would

accompany her heat cycle? He shook his head and squeezed her ass with both hands.

“Might take a miracle, but I will do my level best.”

She whimpered and stretched up, trying to rub her hips against his. “Take me

upstairs. Take me.”

He kissed her, hard, for just a second, ignoring the whoops and whistles from the

crowd. “Give me the key.”

Huge, glazed blue eyes stared up at him as she fumbled at her pocket. She

pressed the key into his hand with another soft noise, half-plea and half-command and

not the least bit human.

He tried not to breathe through his nose as he dragged her off toward the

elevator. Her scent, especially now that she was fully aroused, scrambled his brain,

making rutting sex on the floor of the hallway seem like a good idea. “Hold on until we

get up to the room,” he muttered, but he wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or himself.

She was on him before the dull metal doors of the elevator slid shut. Small,

surprisingly strong hands dragged at his shirt as she pressed him back against the wall

and rose up on her toes. She was short, too short to really reach his mouth, but her lips

landed on his chin and she licked it with a low moan.

He snatched her up and turned at the same time, pinning her against the wall. “I

said to wait.” He bit her chin and growled a warning.

Her body melted against him, all soft submission that was a thousand times

harder to resist. Her head tilted to the side, revealing the smooth, vulnerable line of her

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Last Call: Kamikaze

- 10 -

neck, and she moaned. “The only way you’ll get me to sit still is to tie me the fuck

down.”

Connor bit her neck. “Our room should be well-stocked for that.”

She moaned again, the noise nearly drowning out the sound of the doors sliding

open. “Just make me come. God, God I need to come… I tried by myself, I tried and I

tried and it just made it worse…”

Which showed how little she knew about things. He fought down a surge of

conscience as he walked out of the elevator and headed down the hall with her still

wrapped around his body. “Are you new at this or something?”

He had to repeat the question before she looked on him, obviously struggling to

focus. “I -- It’s the second time, but last time I had -- had a boyfriend who knew how to

help…”

Connor nodded absently as he shifted her weight to one hand and slid the

electronic key into its slot. “I know how to help, too.” He shouldered open the door,

then kicked it closed behind them.

The room was one of their most basic, not much more than a luxurious bed and a

heavy cabinet in the corner. Not many of the werewolves in Zoe’s position really gave a

damn about the bells and whistles that came with some of the other suites.

Shit. Neither do I right now. Her scent filled his nostrils, wet and musky, and he

nearly stumbled as he crossed to the bed and dropped her on it.

She twisted as soon as her back hit the bed, wiggling onto her stomach and then

pushing up to her hands and knees. “Now, now -- God please --”

Connor clenched his jaw and reached around her to yank at the button on her

jeans. Her desperation fed his, and his hands trembled. He could get her off and ease

some of her need, but he knew that only having him deep inside her would really

satisfy her. “Everything? Now?”

Zoe rocked backwards with another desperate noise. Her ass rubbed against his

cock and she dropped her head. “Talk later. God just… just fuck me so I can think --”

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 11 -

He dragged her pants and underwear down at the same time. Slow down -- Once

she was bare to his view, most of his brain shut down, leaving only instinct to guide

him. He tore at his own clothes, finally grasping her waist and thrusting inside her in

one rough snap of his hips.

Chapter Two

Zoe was burning alive, but it didn’t bother her. Not anymore. The raging need

that had proved such a torment only seconds ago had shifted, turning into satisfaction

and pleasure. She had a man, behind her, above her, inside her -- and fuck it felt good.

She tried to speak, to encourage him to thrust into her again, but her tongue

wouldn’t work. Instead she made noises, low snarls of satisfaction when he pulled back

and drove into her again, hard and a little rough and everything she needed to calm the

wolf inside her.

His fingers dug into her skin for a moment, then pushed under her shirt and

fumbled with the clasp of her bra. “You should have let me get you naked first.”

“Plenty -- plenty of time --” She groaned again and pressed her forehead against

the mattress. Then a horrible thought occurred to her, bad enough to make her

whimper in distress. “You’re not leaving after one time are you?”

He slowed his movements, pulling back inch after slow inch. “Fuck, no. The

whole night, if you want.”

It had taken almost three days to wear her out last time, and she hadn’t even

tried to fight it. Her body burned with such need that she thought a week with him

inside of her might not be enough. But a night was something. A start. “Yes,” she

gasped, then whimpered when she tried to rock back and his hands stopped her. “Need

you -- I need you --”

He plunged in with another groan, his cock filling her, then drew back, again

with excruciating slowness. “Do you even remember my name?”

“C-Connor --” She snarled and fought against his grip, trying to chase him back

as he moved away. She felt empty every time he pulled out, aching and desperate.

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 13 -

“Harder, damn it, I need -- I need --” She didn’t know what she needed, just that it

involved him fucking her. Please know. Please know what to do --

“Yeah, I know.” He reached around her hip, his hand sliding down until his

fingers slipped over her clit. His deft fingers stroked her as he started pumping his hips

faster, fucking her, nothing slow or hesitant about it.

The tension that had built inside her over three torturous days snapped, and she

clutched the comforter and screamed. She came. She came hard and out of control, her

body shaking and her cunt clenching around Connor’s cock. Nothing had ever felt so

good -- so perfect -- as the release of all of that desperate, twisting need.

He didn’t stop, just leaned over her, resting his head against her back as he

continued to drive into her. She was vaguely aware of his harsh, panting groans. Then

he swore. “Don’t stop. Do it again.”

As if she had any control over what her body did. She came again and again,

until she was light-headed from the rolling waves of bliss that carried her up until she

could barely draw breath before crashing over her. A reward for the torment of the past

days, measured out in the pleasure wrung from her body by a man strong enough to

claim her.

Connor’s hips jerked. His teeth sank into the back of her shoulder, through the

cotton of her T-shirt, muffling his shout of release. His cock throbbed inside her, and his

hands fell away from her, bracing on the bed.

The heat of his body pressing against her was almost perfect. Almost. She arched

up and rubbed her back against his chest. “Skin. We can be naked now.”

“Really?” He didn’t move. She could feel his hot breath even through her shirt.

“Give me a minute, okay?”

“Okay…” The fire still burned inside her, but release had given her a respite

from the painful, twisting need. She shifted a little and relaxed against the bed, letting

herself enjoy the press of a strong body against her back. Maybe this wasn’t a terrible idea

after all…

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 14 -

Finally, he straightened and pulled free of her body with a sigh. “Christ, that was

crazy.” He sat on the edge of the bed and started unlacing his boots. “You don’t do this

a lot, do you?”

“Do what? Sex? Or sex with strangers?” She watched the muscles of his

shoulders flex under his shirt as he bent down to tug off one boot.

“Come to Last Call,” he clarified. His other boot hit the floor, and he pulled his

shirt over his head in one smooth motion. A complicated design of black ink snaked

across the back of one shoulder, and she watched it as he pulled off his socks.

Belatedly she realized that her shoes were still on. She pushed one off and let it

fall to the floor as she answered his question. “No. Never been here before.”

“I hardly ever get up here.” He stood and pushed his pants down his legs.

Her gaze skated away from the tattoo and down his back. Strong, but not overly

muscular, which was far more to her taste than some of the chiseled gym bodies

downstairs. She pried off her other shoe and tried to wiggle out of the jeans and panties

tangled around her legs. “You like to hang out downstairs?”

He turned and looked down at her, then tugged at the denim, freeing her legs.

“The owner is a client.”

“Oh.” She stretched her arms over her head, ignoring the unhooked bra that still

clung to her breasts, trapped by her T-shirt. She felt too good, too sated, to worry about

anything except for the man who had given her relief. “What do you do?”

Connor leaned over her and guided her shirt up, his hands brushing her breasts.

“I designed the security system here. The non-magical one.”

An entirely different sort of interest sparked through her, this one entirely

prompted by the woman instead of the wolf. “That’s really fucking hot.”

He laughed and yanked her shirt off. “Yeah? You really are a geek, then.” Her T-

shirt hit the floor, followed by her bra. He inclined his head and grinned mischievously.

“Want to cuddle, baby?”

“Can we grope each other while we do it?” The fire might be banked, but she

craved the feeling of his hands on her body so much it hurt.

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 15 -

“I was trying to use a delicate euphemism,” he informed her as he stretched out

beside her. “I mean to fuck you again. Slower this time, though.”

“Not feeling very delicate at the moment.” She lifted a hand and smoothed it

across his chest with a soft noise of satisfaction. “Not sure I know what slow means,

either. I made it all worse by ignoring it and then trying to take care of it myself, didn’t

I?”

“Yeah.” He bent his head and circled his tongue around her nipple. “You pissed

her off.”

Zoe shivered and pushed up against his mouth, trying to get his tongue directly

on the achingly sensitive nipple. “Someone needs to write a user manual for this shit. I

mean, I probably wouldn’t read it… but at least it’d be there so I could look stuff up in

the index.”

“There you go.” He bit her nipple. “Nobody ever reads instructions. That’s why

werewolves don’t have any.”

She hissed in a breath and then lunged, knocking into him and shoving him over

onto his back. “So tell me what to do.”

He just grinned, his dark eyes glittering. “What do you want to do?”

“Hell if I know.” She slid a leg over his waist and pushed herself upright, her

hands braced against his chest as she straddled his stomach. “I haven’t even been a

werewolf two years yet. What am I supposed to want to do?”

Connor reached up and covered one of her breasts with his hand, squeezing her

nipple. “It’s all about instinct, Zoe. There’s no ‘supposed to’ about it.”

Her instincts told her to snap at him until he broke, until he tossed her down on

the bed and took her again. She had only vague memories of the last time she’d gone

through this, mostly hazy recollections of being bound and writhing in pleasure as John

used every trick he knew -- and an impressive collection of sex toys -- to bring her

through it.

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 16 -

She shivered and dug her fingernails into Connor’s chest. The need inside her

twisted, became a dull, empty ache as she whimpered and rocked against his stomach.

“My instincts don’t want to be in charge right now.”

He grinned again and dragged his fingers down her body, tickling over her belly.

“Then why’d you flip me over and pin me down?”

The answer came without thought. “To see if I could.”

Connor laughed and moved. Her back hit the bed, and he pinned both wrists

above her head. “I let you.”

Arousal burned through her, fast and out of control as she struggled against his

grip. The wolf howled satisfaction when his fingers tightened and held her still. “Like it

-- like it better when -- when you don’t --” Her panting breaths made speech impossible,

and she gave up and arched her head back in silent submission.

He laved her skin with his tongue as he pushed her legs apart and nudged his

hard cock against her. He finally -- finally -- bit down on her throat with enough force to

mark her skin. Before she could do more than register the faint, fleeting pain, he entered

her with a long, quick thrust.

“Fuck!” At least there was one word left she could say. Zoe closed her eyes and

moaned satisfaction and approval. “Fuck me, fuck me -- please --”

He hesitated, then let go of her wrist and reached down to push her legs higher

on his body. “How?”

She whimpered. “Don’t know -- don’t --” Desire clawed at her until she

tightened her legs on his hips and turned her head to bite his arm. Hard.

Connor hissed in a breath, then snapped his hips against hers with a growl.

“That hurt.”

“Yeah?” She lifted her free hand and raked her nails down his back. “Then stop

me.”

“Sure.” He stilled, his cock buried deep inside her.

She whimpered again and tried to force him to move. He growled again and

flexed his hips just a bit.

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 17 -

It should have driven her wild, frustrated her to the point of pain. Instead the

wolf rumbled her satisfaction at the evidence of strength, of dominance. She panted and

clung to his shoulder as she closed her eyes. “How do you know? How do you know

what I need?”

“What you need is what I need, only in reverse.” He murmured the hoarse

words into the curve of her neck. “That’s instinct. Wouldn’t work any other way.”

It didn’t seem right for some reason, but she couldn’t figure out why. Not with

his body pressing hers into the bed and his cock rubbing against some hungry spot

inside her with every tiny flex of his hips. She buried her face in his neck and inhaled

his scent, strong and masculine and free of overbearing cologne. Woman and wolf both

agreed he smelled as perfect as he felt.

His teeth closed on her skin again, and he moved a little more with each rock of

his hips. “What did you do last time?” he asked breathlessly. “How did you make it?”

“He -- he tied me down and --” She shuddered and hissed in a breath when he

shifted the angle of his hips just enough to bump his cock against her G-spot again. She

forgot what she was saying, forgot everything but the tightening in her limbs that

meant orgasm was close.

He stopped again. “Tied you down and…?”

Zoe snarled and bucked her hips up, frantic with need. “Tied me down and

fucked me, and not just with his cock.”

He groaned and resumed his leisurely pace, though his shoulders were rigid and

trembling. “What else did he fuck you with?”

“Fingers.” She groaned and tried to meet his thrusts. “Tongue. Vibrators.”

Connor laughed, a low, feral sound. “You should have said so. I can do all those

things.”

The thought was so intoxicating it sent her tumbling over the edge. She dug her

heels into his back and screamed until her throat felt hoarse, screamed as pleasure

shook through her with perfect, primal intensity.

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Last Call: Kamikaze

- 18 -

He rode out her convulsions, then slipped away from her with a groan. He

reached down and stroked her, his thumb barely brushing her clit. His still-erect cock

pulsed against her thigh. “Want to see what they stocked the room with?”

It didn’t seem fair that she could be trembling in the aftermath of climax and

already hungry for him again. She rolled onto her stomach and arched her back a little,

half hoping he’d forget about the cabinet and thrust into her again. “I want whatever

you can give me.”

“You’re a greedy bitch.” He laughed and bit the soft swell of her hip where it

curved into her ass. “If you hadn’t fought her so hard, she’d already be napping.”

It was a mistake she wasn’t planning on making again. She rocked back and

struggled against a frustrated growl. “So tire her out. Tire me out.”

He trailed his hand slowly down her back, skating over her ass, finally sliding

down to her cunt. He caressed her gently, then pushed two fingers inside. “Like I said…

greedy.”

“Fuck --” She clenched around his hand and whimpered when he shifted inside

her. “You didn’t come, why aren’t you in me…”

He bent over her, licking tiny spots of wet heat across her back. “Because I know

how to pace myself.” He pulled his hand away, then thrust back in, this time with three

fingers.

Zoe groaned and rocked back again, harder this time. The wolf was already in

love, if only because she was finally getting what she wanted, what she needed. The

woman had been more hesitant to give herself so completely to a stranger, but now…

As she squirmed under his perfect touches and whimpered, Zoe found herself

thankful they hadn’t spent time on polite talk about their careers or their interests. The

wolf was already in love. If Connor had had the chance to prove himself intelligent and

entertaining, the woman would be, too.

* * *

Connor gritted his teeth and rested his forehead against the back of Zoe’s

shoulder. All he wanted was to be inside her, to slake his lust in the wetness of her

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Last Call: Kamikaze

- 19 -

pussy. But the wolf inside her had gone too long without a mate, and he needed to keep

his head -- and his hard-on -- if he wanted to keep up with her.

She whimpered again, and he murmured against her skin. “Tell me.”

“Need you --” She arched her body, rubbing her back against his chest as if

trying to cover herself in his scent. “Please, please --”

Jesus Christ. “You want me again?”

“You feel so good…” She twisted her head back until her lips found the line of

his jaw. “You taste good. You smell good.” Her teeth scraped against his chin and she

moaned. “I want to be yours.”

He kissed her, hard, then dropped to the bed beside her. “Then take me.”

She crawled over him, but she didn’t sink onto his cock. Instead she straddled his

stomach and braced her hands on either side of his head. Her tousled hair fell around

them in a curtain that smelled of her sweat and vaguely of strawberry shampoo. “Can I

kiss you?”

He rose up on his elbows, his eyes on her luscious, unpainted lips. “I think I’d be

offended if you didn’t.”

The nervous sexual energy around her hadn’t diminished, but she kissed him

with a shy sweetness that was completely at odds with the rest of her body language.

Her hips ground against his stomach and her ass bumped against his cock with every

rocking movement, but her lips moved slowly over his, her tongue sneaking out to

touch his only hesitantly.

Connor raised his hand to her jaw and urged her mouth open. She jerked a little

when he wound his tongue around hers, then relaxed against him with a soft moan. An

unexpected thrill of desire shot through him, and he groaned. Her soft kiss was more

arousing than finger-fucking her had been. He thrust up, rubbing his shaft in the valley

between her ass cheeks.

Her moans gave way to soft, choked little whimpers deep in her throat. She bit

his lower lip and pulled back a little, eyes glazed and breathing heavy. “I’m not very

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Last Call: Kamikaze

- 20 -

good at this stuff. Don’t have that much practice. Only had one steady boyfriend

before.”

He found that beyond hard to believe. “Doesn’t take a boyfriend, baby.”

“Never picked up a stranger in a bar before.” Her teeth scraped against his jaw,

then lower as she licked along his throat. “Though if I’d known it could go this well, I

might have.”

He held back his growl. He had no claim on her beyond this bed, this night.

“We’re not done yet.”

She did growl, soft and low, and then he felt her teeth on his neck, closing over

the pulse in his throat. Connor arched up, his erection twitching, then grasped her hips

and lifted her enough to position himself against her pussy.

“C-Connor --” He loved the sound of his name on her lips, breathless and needy.

Her wide blue eyes drifted shut as she fisted her hands in the blankets on either side of

his head and struggled against his grip with a soft snarl. “Mine.”

He held her tight. “For tonight,” he agreed roughly, then pulled her down,

impaling her on his cock.

She jerked upright, arching her back so sharply that her palms landed on his

thighs. Her head fell back and her long, wild hair tickled at his legs as she stayed like

that, bent back with her body on display and her pussy clenched tight around his cock.

He saw the muscles of her throat work as she swallowed, and her fingers

tightened on his legs. “I can’t move,” she whispered in a tight, hoarse voice. “If I move,

I’ll come. It’ll be over.”

“No, it won’t.” Connor slid his thumb into his mouth, then reached down and

flicked her clit, arching up into her at the same time.

She made a choked noise that sounded like his name and came, her inner

muscles tightening around him in long, hard spasms.

Connor wanted to wait, to bring her to that precipice again and again, but he’d

denied himself too long already. His fingers clenched on her hips in a bruising grip, and

he nearly howled as another orgasm swept him away.

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 21 -

His body still shook with the aftermath of pleasure when he felt her slump

forward. He caught her in time to keep her forehead from smashing into his chin, but

she had turned boneless, limp.

He knew the feeling. He grinned and yawned, rubbing her back. “Zoe, I hope

you don’t mind if I pass out now.” She didn’t answer. “I’ll take that as a no.”

A tiny muffled noise left her as she shifted and tucked her cheek against his

chest. Her hair slid down over his neck as she relaxed against him. “Hold me?”

He rolled over on his side and pulled her close to his chest. “Wouldn’t dream of

going anywhere.”

Chapter Three

The wolf woke her.

For a moment Zoe felt disoriented, unsure how she’d come to be curled in

decadently expensive sheets with a very strong, very male body curled around her.

Their scents were so entwined she could barely separate them, something that pleased

the wolf immensely.

She had no idea what time it was. The room held no windows, and the small

clock on the bedside table was turned away -- deliberately, she imagined. The longer

she stayed, after all, the more money they made.

She stretched slowly, ignoring the desire uncurling inside her. It was weak

compared to the frantic need of last night, a gentle longing instead of a desperate ache.

The fact that it had faded at all surprised her. John had struggled to satisfy her

hunger last time, but his creativity and stamina had worn thin by the end of the second

day. Considering how much worse it had been this time, she’d expected it to take days

for the wolf to grow satisfied.

Her stomach rumbled, and desire took a back seat to another need. She tried to

wiggle away, but Connor’s arms tightened slightly, and she froze, torn between

conflicting hungers.

“What time is it?” His voice was drowsy and hoarse from sleep.

“Don’t know --” She twisted around and nuzzled her face against his chest.

“Hungry, though.”

Connor laughed. “For food?”

She liked his laugh, and the way it rumbled through his chest. She kissed a spot

just below his collarbone and then scored it with her teeth. “That, too.”

He raised his head and blinked at her. “They do room service, you know.”

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 23 -

“Mmm.” She kissed the top of his shoulder and shifted up the bed until her nose

bumped against his neck. The sharp, masculine scent was still there, mixed with sweat

and sex and her own scent. The wolf quieted, content that her mate bore her scent as a

warning to others. Zoe kissed his throat and then lifted her head. “I want steak.”

“How do you want it?” he asked, grinning wickedly as he reached for the sleek

black telephone beside the bed.

Zoe wrinkled her nose at him. “There’s enough of me in here now that I’d like it

medium-well, thank you. Anyway, she’s not hungry for food.”

Connor slapped the phone to his ear. “Thank God. Mooing steak kills my

appetite.” He pressed the single button on the phone and arched an eyebrow. “Booze?

Chocolate?”

She was distracted by the way his chest vibrated when he talked. “Chocolate and

booze,” she murmured, rubbing her cheek against his chest before shifting lower.

“Champagne. Something bubbly.”

The muscles of his stomach tightened under her touch. He ordered quickly, his

voice tense, and tossed the phone to the floor after he’d hung up. “Are you having

fun?”

She was having a lot of fun. She teased her tongue across his abdomen and then

turned to press her cheek against his stomach, staring up the length of his body at his

face. “Tell me about your job. You do security? What kind?”

“Electronic, mostly.” He stretched a little and stroked her hair. “The owner needs

magical wards, but he also needs a regular, run-of-the-mill security system. That’s what

I do.”

She leaned into his caressing fingers with a soft noise of pleasure. “A hunky

brilliant techie werewolf with a dirty mind…” I’m in love. “That’s pretty much the

hottest thing ever.”

Connor laughed. “I was brilliant and techie before the werewolf thing. I still

don’t know if I’d add hunky to the list or not.”

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 24 -

“Mmm…” She rose to her knees and inched up the bed, a wicked smile curling

her lips. “No one asked you.”

She didn’t give him a chance to reply. She’d mostly forgotten the food, but it

wasn’t the wolf that made her swing her leg over his chest. She straddled him, her

hands braced on the bed on either side of his thighs, and let her breath feather over his

mostly-erect cock. “I wonder how long it takes the food to get here.”

He half-groaned and thrust up a little. “Not long. The kitchen staff’s very good.

Very efficient.”

“Too bad… I don’t have much practice at this, so I won’t be done by the time

they get here.” She licked around the thick head and then drew it between her lips,

sucking softly.

He made a choked noise, and his hand landed on her thigh. “Don’t be so sure,”

he rasped.

Desire flooded her, and she rocked her hips down against his chest with a soft

whimper and sucked harder for several seconds before lifting her head and rolling

away from him. “God, no -- we have to eat first, or I’ll kill us both if it gets bad again --”

But the ache between her legs made her feel so damn empty…

He sat up and stroked a comforting hand over her belly. “It won’t get that bad

again. Not right away, anyhow.”

She felt heat creep into her cheeks and knew she was blushing. “I hope not. I

mean, I always figured I was fairly unselfconscious about sex, but some of the stuff I

was trying to get you to do to me could make me blush so hard I hurt something.”

“Why?” His fingers traced absent circles on her skin as he watched her face. “I

wanted to do it.”

Heat followed in the wake of his fingers, rippling outwards in gentle tingles that

tightened her nipples and magnified the soft, aching need. She wanted to arch up, to

guide his fingers down until they stroked her clit and then pushed inside her. She

wanted to watch his face, to see the heat in those dark eyes as he sent her spiraling into

bliss.

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 25 -

Most of all she wanted him to need her as desperately as she needed him.

Wanted the man to want the woman, because there was no doubt in her at all that their

wolves would happily spend forever together.

Connor sighed, then tilted his head as his hand stilled. “Why are we still here,

Zoe?”

She fought back a whimper. “W-what do you mean?” Oh God, you’re going to

leave, please don’t leave -- She sank her teeth into her lower lip to keep the pleas from

tumbling out.

“I mean you’re paying an arm and a leg for this. Why?” He wrapped a lock of

her hair around his finger. For the first time, he looked a little nervous. “I’m not an axe

murderer, and neither are you. Why don’t we get out of here?”

She could barely breathe. “Y-you want to come home with me?” She could fill

her apartment with his scent, wrap herself in it long after he was gone. And maybe

convince him to come back…

“We could go to my place instead,” he suggested. “It’s up to you.”

She couldn’t quite keep her gaze from darting to the cabinet in the corner, the

one presumably full of naughty items meant to enhance pleasure. She licked her lips

nervously and then looked back at him. “I’m not exactly stocked for illicit thrills.”

He tugged her hair gently and flashed her a smile. “Careful what you pick.

They’ll charge you for taking it, you know.”

The naughty little smile, the amused look in his eyes -- desire sprang into full,

powerful life and she moaned as it thundered through her. A whimper escaped her as

her hips lifted off the bed in a silent plea.

Connor shrugged one shoulder and walked his fingers down over her belly. “Or

we could stay here a while longer…”

A discreet knock sounded on the door, and Zoe groaned in protest. Go away --

Connor was already climbing off the bed and reaching for his pants. “Unless you

like putting on a show, you might want to crawl under the covers.”

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 26 -

Her limbs felt shaky as she dragged the blanket aside and pulled it up over her

body -- and over her head for good measure. Even the soft, silken slide of the duvet

cover against her skin made her want to whimper, and she muffled a frustrated noise

against the pillow as she listened to Connor’s footsteps crossing the room.

Connor made small talk with the woman at the door, then she heard the slight

squeak of wheels as the room service cart rolled across the carpet. “Ready for dinner?”

She opened her mouth to say no, but the smell of steak hit her and hunger

surfaced again. She tugged back the blankets and popped her head out, then made an

annoyed noise and blew at the hair in her face. “Food. I could handle food.”

“You need food,” Connor corrected as he tugged a silver serving dome from one

of the plates. “Want to eat on the bed, or grab some chairs?”

“Clothes…” Zoe crawled to the edge of the bed and found his shirt. It smelled of

him, a scent she was beginning to find extremely comforting. “Can I wear this?”

“Hell, eat naked if you want.” His teeth scored his bottom lip for a moment, and

he ducked his head and smiled as she slid the shirt on. “It looks good on you, though.”

He was fucking adorable. She crossed the room and slipped her arms around his

waist. “You could wear mine if you want. It’s very geek chic.”

“Nah. I’d rather be bare-chested and manly.” He bent his head and nibbled her

jaw and then her ear. “Besides, your shirt might be a little small.”

She shivered and closed her eyes. “We need to eat before I get all crazy again. I

don’t know how this is supposed to work, but I sort of don’t want to stop touching

you.”

He stroked the back of her neck and pulled away. “You have to eat.” He dragged

two chairs from their spots by the wall and situated them on either side of the cart.

“Voila.”

Zoe gave hearty thanks for the fact that she made a healthy living at her job as

she settled into the chair. The steaks looked delicious and expensive, and she could only

imagine how much the bottle of champagne and exquisite little chocolate truffles would

cost. And as hungry as she was -- she didn’t care.

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 27 -

The steak proved to be as good as it looked. She ate a quarter of it in silence,

satisfying the angry rumble in her stomach before she sat back and picked up the glass

of champagne. “So how long have you been a werewolf?”

She might have imagined the shadow that passed over his features, but his

hesitation as he lifted his fork to his mouth was unmistakable. “Fifteen years.”

Zoe took a bracing sip of her champagne. “I’m sorry. That was -- I don’t mean to

pry. I really don’t know much. John -- he talked about things like packs and groups, but

he never wanted to introduce me to anyone else.”

“He probably didn’t want to have to look for another girlfriend after someone

stole you.” Connor reached for his wine. “I became a werewolf my last year of high

school. Senior trip, actually.”

She took another sip of the champagne, draining half of the glass this time. “It

was -- bad?” The minute the question left her she wanted to groan. Of course it had

been bad. She of all people knew there weren’t very many nice ways to become infected

with lycanthropy.

He shrugged one shoulder. “I was attacked and left for dead in a canyon in

Arizona.” The corner of his mouth kicked up. “To say I’d had better days is a bit of an

understatement.”

“Oh, God --” She set the glass down and reached across the makeshift table to

touch his hand. “I’m so sorry, Connor. That’s -- it’s terrible.”

He shook his head as he wove his fingers through hers. “It was a long time ago.

What about you?”

She tightened her fingers a little around his hand. “There’s a park a couple blocks

from my apartment. It’s a pretty safe area. I mean, at least safe from muggers and shit.

Less so from werewolves I guess. John -- I worked with John. I was out for three days

and he came to visit me. Saw what was going on, that I was healing too fast and that I

felt so fucked up…”

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 28 -

And then she’d almost thrown him out of the apartment when he’d calmly

attempted to explain to her that she was a werewolf and going to sprout fur with the

next full moon. Even a year and a half later, sometimes it seemed absurd.

“Not so long ago, then?”

Zoe shook her head. “It happened during the summer. So I guess… in July it’ll be

two years. John helped me through the beginning, but --” She hesitated and looked

away as nervousness skittered through her. “The last time this happened, he tried to

deal with it, but everything got weird afterwards. He broke it off a few months later,

and I’ve sorta been… alone. With the werewolf stuff, I mean.”

Connor’s fingers tightened around hers. “That sucks. No wonder you didn’t

know things would get this bad.”

“I didn’t. I just --” She met his eyes again. “It was different this time. I mean, I

was so much worse off, but I already feel a lot better. I still want to climb in your lap

and do crazy naughty things… but I can sort of think. It took almost three days last time

before I got this calm. Was it because I was so new at it?”

He gave her a smug grin. “A man’s just got to know how to handle a woman like

you, that’s all.”

Zoe quirked an eyebrow. “A woman like me?”

“Mmm. You’re no shrinking violet, that’s for damn sure.” His wine glass hit the

linen-draped cart with a thump. “You’re strong. Powerful.”

It sounded so absurd that she laughed. “I’m a systems administrator who could

stand to lose a few pounds. Strong and powerful aren’t the first adjectives that spring to

mind.”

He shrugged again. “And I design electronic security systems. It’s not about your

human self. It’s about the wolf. Who she is.”

Her heart had started to beat faster, and she had no idea why. “You can tell who

she is? I can barely tell who she is.”

He stroked the back of her hand. “You can’t feel her? Think about your ex. What

did she tell you about him?”

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 29 -

Weak. The word came unbidden, and tumbled from her lips before she even

realized she’d spoken. “Weak.” Zoe blinked. “Except he wasn’t. I mean, not physically.”

“Physical size or shape doesn’t matter,” he observed. “It’s about the magic.”

Zoe reached out with her foot and nudged the cart aside. The wheels squeaked

slightly, filling the suddenly tense silence between them. He sat in the chair across from

her, tousled and shirtless and gorgeous, and she smiled as she slipped across the

intervening space and dropped into his lap. “You don’t feel weak.”

“Not now that I’ve eaten,” he teased, sliding one hand under his shirt and over

her skin.

She slid her hands over the warm skin of his shoulders and up until they tangled

in his hair. “So let’s make the best of this room before we leave. I don’t have a closet full

of sex toys or a gigantic Jacuzzi tub.”

“You don’t?” he asked in mock horror as he rose and carried her to the bed.

“Well, then, this is never going to work.”

“I’ll buy some.” She dragged her tongue up the side of his neck until it tickled

against his earlobe. “As soon as we’re done violating each other, I’ll go home and order

sex toys in bulk. As long as you’ll come over and use them with me.”

“We’ll see.” Connor dropped her on the bed and reached for the button on his

pants.

It was a sharp reminder, even if she doubted he’d meant it to be. As hot as it

would be to watch him peel his pants off, Zoe squeezed her eyes shut and reached

above her head to curl her hands around the headboard. She was getting ahead of

herself, letting the wolf’s pleasure in a strong mate override her human sense. They

weren’t dating, weren’t involved. She didn’t even know his last name.

And it was possible his invitation to head back to his place really had been

entirely about saving her a few bucks, and not some sort of subtle hint that he wanted

more from her than another few hours of lusty, insatiable sex.

So have the sex. Get what you need, get off, and don’t get attached.

Chapter Four

Connor watched Zoe close her eyes and grip the headboard. He took advantage

of the moment to lift her leg and bite the back of her knee, enjoying the way she

shuddered under his hands.

So take her home. He managed to avoid wincing, but barely. He was eager -- too

eager -- to get to know her, to get her out of there.

To see her again.

He felt a jolt in his chest. Zoe was sexy as hell, which pleased him. But she was

also strong, something that drew the wolf in him like a lodestone. The challenge she

presented was irresistible. He needed to test himself against her, to see if he could

satisfy her desires. If he could, then he deserved the reward of her pleasure.

“I’m going to see what’s in that cabinet,” he whispered against her skin, then

stepped back. “Any requests?”

Her heart pounded in her chest so loudly it seemed to fill the room. “Surprise

me.”

He grasped the brass knobs and pulled open the lacquered cabinet. Shelf after

shelf was stocked full of tubs and bottles, silicone, glass, and leather. He held up one

ridged glass dildo from the selection. “What do you think?”

Her eyes drifted open, then went wide. Her tongue darted out over her lower lip

in what he was starting to recognize as a nervous gesture. “I -- I’m not exactly an expert

--”

He smothered a laugh. “Neither am I, sweetheart.” He replaced the dildo and

chose a slightly smaller vibrator in a garish shade of purple. “This one?”

She nodded, still a little wide-eyed.

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 31 -

“Where are you going to let me put it?” Connor brandished a small, sleek bottle

of lube and tried not to smile when her eyes got even bigger.

He watched her as he returned to the bed, intrigued by how clearly her feelings

showed on her face. Nervousness fought excitement, but excitement won when he

stopped next to her and grinned down at her. When she spoke, her voice had gone

husky. “I think maybe you can put it anywhere you damn well want.”

“Careful what you offer…” He took a deep breath and turned on the vibrator as

he sat beside her. He used the tip of it to nudge the hem of the shirt up. Heat blazed

through him when she shivered and moaned.

And it wasn’t nearly as arousing as what she did next. Her eyes rolled back and

one hand released the headboard, dropping to clutch at his thigh. “I trust you.”

“Yeah?” He brushed the vibrator over her nipple, then trailed it down her body

in a sinuous motion. “I might take you up on it.” The purple silicone drifted past the

damp curls at the juncture of her thighs.

Her fingers dug into his leg. A tiny whimper escaped her, choked and needy,

and she shifted her legs apart, opening herself to him. “I trust you,” she whispered

again. “But the last time I made that offer, I was tied up and so crazy from the mating

shit that I barely remember it. So be gentle.”

“Shh.” He cupped his hand over her cheek and leaned down to kiss her.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, baby.” He shifted the vibrator until the tip slipped

just inside her entrance. “Not so bad, right?”

Her hips pushed up a little, and she turned her head to bite the heel of his palm.

“Not bad at all. Also hardly virgin territory, as you should know.”

“Mmm, I know.” He arched an eyebrow and gave her the most licentious look he

could muster. “Now I just have to decide where to put my cock…”

“Oh --” Her mouth fell open. “Oh, Jesus, Connor --” She took a ragged breath

and slid her legs apart farther. “Anything. Anywhere. I need you so bad --”

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 32 -

He nudged the vibrator, pushing it deeper, until it was buried in her pussy. A

few tiny thrusts had her shaking and whimpering, and he took her hand and laid it

over the hilt of the vibrator. “Here.”

“What?” Glazed blue eyes found his, and her lips curled into a wicked smile.

“You want a show? Or did you figure out where you want your cock?”

“Both.” Connor stood and unzipped his pants, dropping them to the floor.

“Come here.” He wrapped his hands under her thighs and tugged her over to the edge

of the bed.

She was still partly tangled in his shirt, which had hitched up just high enough to

reveal the underside of her breasts. She lifted one leg and braced her foot against the

edge of the bed, and the action gave him a perfect view of that damned purple vibrator

as she worked it slowly in and out of her pussy.

Blood pounded in his ears, and he almost trembled with the desire to lean down

and mark her as his. “Sure you’re going to be all right with this?” he asked, reaching for

the small bottle of lubricant.

She moaned in response and tangled her free hand in the sheets above her head.

“Not as good as you --”

“Just wait, baby.” Connor poured some of the slippery liquid in his hand and

slicked it over his cock. He warmed another palmful and massaged it slowly around her

ass. “Okay?”

“Too slow --” Her gaze found his and she dug her teeth into her lower lip for a

second. “God, I’m gonna come, Connor. I want you inside me.”

The desperation in her voice made his cock jump in his hand. He bumped the

head of his shaft against her ass, then started to slowly push inside.

She was impossibly tight, and breathing erratically before he managed to work

the head of his cock past the tight ring of muscle. “W-wait --”

He froze as she pulled the vibrator away with a soft moan. “Too much,” she

explained in a ragged whisper. Her other hand slipped down her body and between her

legs, and she moved her fingers over her clit. “When you’re inside -- you c-can put it --”

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 33 -

The rest of her words dissolved into a low moan as she pushed against him,

drawing him a tiny bit deeper. “Yes -- fuck --”

“Yes.” Connor fought not to thrust against her, his body throbbing. Watching

Zoe, so hungry for him, short-circuited his control. He pushed deeper, his fingers

digging into her thighs. “Zoe --”

“I’m okay --” Her voice was high and breathless, but she rocked up with another

of those choked, hungry noises when he worked his way deeper. Every rock of his hips

brought a gasp or groan from her, and he started to worry that watching her would be

too much, that he’d lose it and come before he got to sink all of the way into her body.

Finally, finally, he thrust one last time and his hips bumped against her ass. Zoe

moaned and opened her eyes, staring at him with a glazed, desperate expression.

“Connor --”

He closed his eyes and stayed still for several moments. He whispered her name

again, and his hand covered hers, his fingertips slipping against hers, teasing her clit.

“Come, Zoe.”

She whimpered, and he felt her other hand bump against his. She pressed the

vibrator into his hand with another soft moan. “Do it.”

Connor gritted his teeth and lifted her hips with one hand. He had to pull away a

little to thrust the toy into her, and her wriggling nearly undid him. “Hold still, baby…

Just for a second.”

“C-can’t --” Her head dug back into the pillows, and she cried out, one hand

clenching at the quilt as her entire body shook. “Oh, fuck -- fuck, fuck, Connor, I’m

going to -- I’m going --”

Her ass quivered around him, and he managed one short thrust before his world

went white with pleasure, searing and maddening. “Christ, Zoe --” He bent over her, his

hips jerking against hers, and closed his teeth on her neck with a hoarse shout.

She just kept coming, her body shaking apart under him as she raked her nails

down his back and screamed his name. He rode her orgasm for a moment, his face

pressed into her neck, then pushed himself up with a groan.

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 34 -

Tiny waves of pleasure still pulsed through him, and he could feel the vibrator

through the thin wall between it and his cock. Zoe shuddered, still whimpering and

moaning. He turned it off quickly, then stroked her belly as he eased it out of her.

“Okay?”

Her head lolled to the side and her eyes drifted shut. “Never thought I’d say

this… but I think I don’t need any more orgasms for a while…”

Exhaustion and afterglow combined to make him dizzy. “I know what you

mean.” He slowly, carefully, pulled his body free of hers and flopped down on the bed

beside her. “How’s she doing? The wolf, I mean.”

Silence stretched out between them for several long seconds, then Zoe laughed.

“Oh God, I think you wore her out. I might love you a little for that.”

Connor grinned. “I know you’re excited about the Jacuzzi, but I don’t think I can

get up right now.”

She rolled over and curled against his side, her body warm and soft as she

snuggled into his arms. “Later. I don’t want to fall asleep and drown.”

He reached over, grabbed the silk throw draped over the headboard, and spread

it over them. “Nap. Bath. Then breakfast.”

Zoe pressed a hand against the center of his chest and propped herself up. Her

kiss-swollen lips and slightly glazed expression combined with her wild hair to give her

a debauched look. She looked gorgeous, but what hit him the hardest was the slender,

pale column of her neck. He’d marked her, made her his in a very visible, very real way.

The way she looked down at him said she knew it. Her tongue darted over her

lip in that adorable little nervous gesture, and she smiled. “You’re going to date me,

right? Because if you’re not going to date me, I’m going to go cry in the bathtub.”

“I was about to say the same thing to you,” he teased, then kissed her shoulder.

His heart pounded. She wanted him. “Will you go out on a real date with me sometime?

Dinner, movie, no sex club?”

“Yes.” Her hair tickled his face as she leaned down to kiss him. It was slow and

shy, like her first kiss, and evoked possessive tenderness instead of hot passion.

Moira Rogers

Last Call: Kamikaze

- 35 -

She pulled away and dropped her head back to his shoulder with a sleepy sigh

of satisfaction. “Can we go get pancakes after our bath? I love pancakes.”

Mine. He slid his arm around her and pulled her closer. “I’ll buy. You’re going to

be broke by the time you pay for all this.”

“Am not.” Her murmur tickled his chest. “I’m a big shot sysadmin. I make bank.

But you can buy my new collection of sex toys if you want, just to be fair.”

“Mmm.” Her words barely penetrated his sleepy haze. “I’ll even give you final

say on where they go.”

Her only response was a gentle snore.

Something occurred to him, and he lifted his head and nudged her side. “Zoe?

Zoe, wake up.”

She grumbled and opened her eyes. “Huh?”

“What’s your last name?” He didn’t know why it was so important, but it didn’t

feel right to not know.

“Bennett.” The corner of her mouth tugged up into a smile. “I’m Zoe Bennett.

What about you?”

“Connor O’Malley.” He kissed her softly. “Nice to meet you, Zoe Bennett.”

Inside, the wolf echoed her grumble. He didn’t care about human things like

names or labels. He’d felt Zoe, touched and explored her, and deemed her a perfect

mate. The wolf wouldn’t be letting her go, and Connor smiled.

He had no problem with that at all.

Moira Rogers

How do you make a Moira Rogers? Take a former forensic science and nursing

student obsessed with paranormal romance and add a computer programmer with a

passion for gritty urban fantasy. Toss in a dash of whimsy and a lot of caffeine, and

enjoy with a side of chocolate by the light of the full moon.

By day, Bree and Donna are mild-mannered ladies who reside in the Deep South.

At night, when their husbands and children are asleep, they combine forces to unleash

the product of their fevered imaginations upon the page. To learn more about this

romance writing, crime fighting duo, visit their webpage at

http://www.moirarogers.com. (Disclaimer: crime fighting abilities may appear only in

the aforementioned fevered imaginations.)