Enslaved In Shadows (Shadow Unit Book 1) Page 2

  “Apologies, I only wanted to say hello.”

  Turning before she could respond, he headed back in the direction he should have gone from the beginning. She wasn’t for him. He’d already promised his father he’d settle down. Would his father have been happy with the woman at the bar as his choice? She was human, and wolves weren’t meant to mate with mortals. End of story.

  # # #

  Jes was still upset with Bells hours later for the cock blocking with her Adonis. It wasn’t like he’d been bothering her. She’d just gotten the courage to speak to him when Bells ran him off. Now Bells was muttering to herself about a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Sure he was rough, primitive in a way, but he didn’t seem at all wolfish in his intent. He was just a guy, and she was just a girl, and they had just been engaged in some harmless flirting.

  She and Bells were back at her family’s house getting ready to head out for the evening. They were still in their bikini tops, but they’d each added shorts to their ensemble. Jes held the phone to her ear. She was talking to Cyrian, a family friend who owned Club Odessa’s, a beautiful nightclub surrounded by an oceanic view on three sides.

  “Alright, beautiful, I’ll see you at the club,” Cyrian said into her ear. He was gorgeous, and if she weren’t an island girl, he most likely would have had his wicked way with her.

  “See you tonight, Cy.” Jes quickly disconnected the phone and eyed her friend with a serious look of disappointment.

  “Next time a guy comes on to me, do me a favor. Let me be the one to ask him to leave,” she said to Bells as they stepped into her father’s car. “I’d like the chance to meet someone while I’m here.”

  “He was all wrong for you.”

  Jes ignored Bells for the rest of the ride to the club. Confronting her about what was wrong or not wrong for her was pointless. When they arrived at Odessa’s, Jes led Bells inside by the hand. Dimly lit lights cast shadows around the room in strategic spots. This left corners of the club covered in darkness. There were no tables or chairs. A bar the length of one of the glass walls served drinks, but the dance floor and DJ booth were the main attractions.

  “Close your mouth, fish,” Jes joked. Bells’ mouth hung open a few seconds more before she turned in Jes’s direction. Belinda Raine Ignis was statuesque, with beautiful black hair that flowed to her waist in straight, silky strands. Multicolor feathers were always strategically placed in her hair. It gave her an Indian-like quality with her warm skin tone. Belinda’s beautiful violet eyes glowed bright with wonder and mischief as she glanced around the club. Men moved and made space for her and Jes as they watched Bells intensely. She affected all men this way.

  “This place is amazing,” Bells whispered as they took a seat at the bar. Jes turned to the bartender and put in their drink order.

  “It is.”

  No one bothered them as they sat at the bar drinking the island’s version of a Lemon Drop Martini. Cyrian took a moment to stop by and talk to them, trying his best to dazzle Belinda. He was tall, with light blue eyes and dark brown hair, and he carried a cane when he walked. Although he didn’t need one. There was a huge scar that started at the corner of his left eye and hooked into the corner of his mouth, but his confidence gave him swagger, and he never suffered for female companionship.

  “Come down here anytime, darling. Just not the night of Carnival. You know the rules, girl,” Cyrian said as he signaled the bartender for another drink. The night of Carnival was when his notorious private parties took place. The parties rumored to draw some seriously dark people with equally dark tastes.

  Jes nodded at Cyrian and took another sip of her martini. Her glass was rimmed with sugar and nutmeg, the perfect combination to allow for a spiced, sweet taste with each sip. It didn’t take long for her body to warm from the drink’s alcoholic infusion.

  The music changed, and Jes grabbed Belinda’s arm, dragging her away from a still smiling Cyrian. Benny Benassi’s “No Matter What You Do,” started pulsing into every inch of Jes’s body. She loved this song. Every time it played, all she wanted to do was dance. They moved with the waves of people as the music pumped through their bodies. The warm buzz of her drink relaxed her further.

  The crowd swallowed them as they danced. The electricity in the air fused with the press and pull of bodies, heating the room and its occupants until Jes was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Waves of heat surrounded her, and soon, faces became fuzzy as the thrall of the music hypnotized her. The outside world ceased to exist. It was just her and the melody. She was so into the music, it took her a moment to realize that a strong arm had banded around her waist, tugging her into a hard chest. Her head snapped back as breath escaped her lungs. She’d danced herself into one of the dark corners and was now in the arms of stranger.

  From her shadowed nook, she saw that Belinda had gone back to the bar and was once again gaining the attentions of Cyrian. Jes wasn’t going to panic. It was probably just one of the locals who wanted to dance. She could handle that. Jes tried to turn and pull away to get a better look at her dance partner, but the arm banding her waist pulled tighter. His other hand came up to collar her throat. He slowly spread his hand wide as he relaxed his hold. His fingers began to caress the walls of her neck.

  The hand wasn’t tightening or constricting. Somehow, it soothed her nerves and calmed the fear that was threatening to rise. Her breathing slowed. She was not going to flip out. He just wanted to dance. She felt his breath at her ear before she heard his whispered voice.

  “I know we don’t know each other, but I want to fuck you.”

  2

  The warm breath at her ear was like thickly layered chocolate with a huge helping of spice. It was his voice. The stranger from the bar. He was holding her, seducing her, like the beat of the music. The scent of hot, gyrating bodies drenched the air with energy. Attraction in the form of gut-deep muscle constricting spasms caused her entire body to light up like the Fourth of July. The way she reacted to the possessive hold on her throat was shameful, dizzying. Slowly he let his hands fall to her sides. Instantly, the loss of his grip disappointed her. Heat traveled the course of her body and settled between her thighs. He was an endorphin-inducing opiate, and she was desperately jonesing for another hit of his touch.

  She was a good girl. A controlled girl. And stepping outside of her comfort zone felt momentous. She wasn’t one to fall for the hype, not even a little bit, but, in this case, the hype was true. There would be nothing false about his claims. He wouldn’t over compensate. Everything he offered would be real. Any woman’s fantasy would be instantly granted with him at their side. The attraction was a humid, tangible thing. A seductive mist of pheromones clung to Jes’s skin. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck rise as static arousal clung to the dampness already on her body.

  She’d been thinking about him all day. Fantasizing about what a night in his bed would be like. Would he be a generous lover? Or would he only take his pleasure? God, she hoped not. Her thoughts began to flicker with images of them in bed. Queue the sweaty sheets. Their time would be intensely physical, powerful, spanning the spectrum of sex, and thrusting her senses into overdrive. It would be that good, and she knew it.

  Lying on the beach, looking up at him moments after they’d parted had been favorable in the most delicious of ways. She’d been able to drink him in. He was, unquestionably, all man. Sculpted ropes of muscle bulged perfectly beneath his tan skin. And now, six and a half feet of man was pressed tightly against her like a second skin. The heat from the palms of his hands at her waist seared her flesh. Everything around her seemed silent as the strong beat of his heart pulsed against her back. Jes tried to turn around to face him, but he held her steady

  “Don’t turn around.” The words traveling the length of her spine, leaving her in a complete state of clarity. An epicurean massage to her senses. Her entire body was attuned to the dark hunger of his words, and she was about to come apart from his voice alone. The frequency of
his voice turned the volume on her body’s senses up, making her skin tight and achy as her heart pushed brutal amounts of adrenaline-spiked lust through her body.

  Being twenty-two and socially awkward had its drawbacks. Getting the attention of a male was not her specialty. Her grandmother had always told her men wanted socially adept women more than stunning ones. A woman who could win over a crowd with her heartwarming smile and stellar personality. Jes struck out in both areas. She was average looking and lanky. Her best features were her flared hips and an almost flat stomach. She could never tame her hair unless she took a straight comb to it, so she kept it up. Yes, her personal appearance needed some work. Her personality was her star attraction, as long as the person wasn’t a stranger.

  A sigh escaped. It didn’t matter. He was attracted to the idea of what she represented. An easy lay. She could feel the handsome stranger’s chin moving her thick mass of curls to the side of her neck as he held her in place. Warm, soft lips grazed her skin. A small moan escaped the back of her throat as he groaned against her skin and nipped the back of her neck, causing her to shiver.

  It was eighty-nine degrees in Belmopan, and her skin was already heated from dancing amid the throngs of bodies gyrating on the dance floor. But having him this close made her body’s temperature rise to the point of boiling. He kept nuzzling her neck, and she tried to get closer, but he growled at her attempt; the sound raw and hot against her skin.

  “Are you going to come with me?”

  All. Night. Long. If she had her way.

  It was a bit unnerving the way she reacted to him. The smart thing to do would be for her to say no. You’ll never get your adventure, Jes thought. It would be a huge deviation from her tightly controlled life. There was a definite air of danger that surrounded the stranger. To the right woman, it was “fuck me” pheromones. To anyone else, it was “fuck off or die”.

  Having a one-night stand was risky. An emotional hazard she didn’t want. To never see that person again? Could she even handle that kind of adventure? It had its appeal, and Jes fully recognized the darker side of her psyche cheering her on, urging her forward. Jumping into something feet first wasn’t part of her personality. She was too organized, excessively cautious. Her mother called it obsessive-compulsive disorder. Jes called it being prepared.

  So she was throwing caution to the proverbial wind. Literally. Maybe her island roots were calling her. Possibly, it was the sexual energy burning between her and the stranger, or the fact that she just needed to get laid. Whatever it was, this was something different, something bold. It was raunchy and dirty but in a good way. Jes wanted to indulge, needed to. A lot. She was passing through life at a snail’s pace, and instead of admiring the roses, she was looking for the potholes she might fall into.

  Slow caresses on her shoulder jolted her out of her thoughts. His hands moved across her skin, distracting her further. She still hadn’t answered his question. Couldn’t answer because she was too busy enjoying the work-roughened fingers drawing lazy circles on her waist. The scent of real man made her dizzy. He smelled like earth and fresh rain, combined with something dark and savage.

  “Time’s running out,” he said against her skin. His bottom lip slid along her neck and shoulder, and when he reached her ear, he playfully bit. Electric pleasure danced back and forth along with the movements of his lips. Jes wanted those lips on every inch of her skin. His touch fervid as his mouth opened and closed in languid glides from shoulder to neck.

  Gently, he nipped the base of her neck, catching the strings holding up her top. Jes’s knees buckled, but his hands were there to catch her. One large hand splayed open to cover her bare stomach while the other rested on her waist. She could feel the slow hunger of want settle in her belly. Fluttering once, then twice as wetness soaked her panties. You can do this. No big deal. Her body was already on board.

  “I want you. Now.” His voice vibrated against her chest, traveling to her feet and jarring her senses. She was sex-starved for a man she didn’t know.

  As if he could smell her need, he pulled her against his chest and began to sniff her hair. His hand tightened on her belly. One of her straps fell forward, dancing against her side. She couldn’t see his face, and the mystery of it made her ache more, pulling her under the waves of his well-planned seduction.

  “What’s your name?”

  “No names.”

  No names? Mr. Hottie was either into role-play or he was a straight-up asshole. A primitive part of her said this was going to be wanton, untamed. The pleasure-filled fog she was in cleared as the sounds of jungle drums played through the club’s speakers. She was caught in a void filled with only the tall stranger. Now that she could hear the music, Jes realized he’d been moving with her to the beat. The fog cleared when she realized Belinda was signaling for her. How could her friend see into this dark corner, it was pitch-black where she stood?

  “Where,” she asked the stranger quickly. “Where do you want to do this?” They couldn’t go back to her place. She was staying at her father’s estate.

  She got her answer when he turned and quickly led her outside the club. He was moving so fast, Jes had to grab her bikini straps with one hand to hold her top in place.

  The breeze outside brought her momentary comfort as her heated skin cooled. She was pulled deeper and deeper into the jungle until they stood in front of a thicket of trees. It was pitch dark. Hardly any light pierced through the canopy of vegetation. He kept taking her deeper and deeper until he turned and pushed her back up against a banana tree. She didn’t complain when the bark dug into her skin.

  His mouth came crashing down over hers, hands digging painfully into her hips as he devoured and conquered her lips. Her body melted against him as excitement rose. Jes kissed him back, giving and taking as much as he’d allow. Damn, she tried to catch her breath. She couldn’t keep up. He wouldn’t let go, didn’t give her time to even breathe as he deepened the kiss. Suffocating her senses with long strokes of his tongue until she was dizzy from the lack of air. The kiss was harsh. Teeth clashed, tongues searched, and bodies pushed against each other to get closer. Jes tried pulling back from the kiss, but he caught her bottom lip with his teeth and sucked to the point of swelling. Jes knew it was going to hurt in the morning, as were the scratches on her back from the tree. His hands pulled her closer, and he quickly switched their position, his back now against the rough bark. Legs spread, he pulled her into the heat of his hard body and even harder erection.

  He made her beg for it. One hand slid up her side while the other collared her neck, holding her still. He pushed her away by the throat, barely giving her time to adjust to the abrupt movement. His hand still resting at her neck, he slowly pulled her back and kissed her senseless again, causing her pulse to beat rapidly. He repeated the action, pushing and pulling and sucking her lips. It was maddening but in a beautiful way. Each time he repeated the motion, the lust in his emerald eyes grew deeper. The shards of green darkening in hunger until she was sure they were no longer green but glowing gold. He was driving her crazy. It was so fucking hot!

  An intense need started to burn. Slowly at first, then gradually picking up speed. With each push and pull of his hand, the feeling rose until she was so full of longing she thought she would pass out.

  She was going to let him do her in the jungle, in front of whoever should happen to walk past. Animal or human, she didn’t care. It didn’t matter.

  3

  She tasted as good as she smelled. The dark cravings of his wolf came alive with the flavor of her skin on his tongue. There was no one else he wanted to be with in that moment but her. He’d stood in front of Odessa’s, irritated with the day’s result. His contact, Chloe, had lied about her source of information. She had been toying with him. He’d only agreed to meet Chloe here because of Cyrian, his longtime friend and informant. He’d waited for her to show, and when she hadn’t, he’d decided to call it a night. As he’d neared the entrance, her unmistaka
ble scent floated through the crowd, sending a jolt of arousal to his cock.

  Draven tasted her again, growling against the skin of her throat. Her scent, thicker and stronger in the crook of her neck, gave off sweet-smelling pheromones. His gut ached with an unfamiliar punch, a feeling he couldn’t place. He was licking every place he could find on her; her shoulder, an ear, the side of her jaw. But he kept returning to her neck where the scent was strongest.

  Tropical warmth and aroused woman scented the night air and surrounded them both with a blanket of need. The blood in his brain detoured south, and his dick quickly swelled. Draven’s skin vibrated with anticipation; she was sex on fire wrapped in a package just for him. He couldn’t control his animal’s urge to rut if his life had depended on it. It was going to control him, everything else was purely circumstantial.

  The moonbeams that could sneak past the dense canopy of trees sprinkled the jungle floor in a series of lights. The back of the tree was proving to be a fucking problem. Draven pushed off and pulled her deeper into the jungle. His island flower didn’t say a word as she followed by his side. He had her wrist in his hand, and found that he kept rubbing the pulse point to remind himself that this was really happening. Even in the dark, he could see clearly that there was a rock wall covered in moss and flowers up ahead. There was also a wide-open space to the left, and he knew it was a sheer drop to the bottom of the jungle floor.

  Fireflies brightened their cover of darkness. The flickers of light adding to the ambience. Draven turned her to face him and backed her up against the wall. Her eyes dilated, the black spilling into the gold. Intoxicated by their lust, she whimpered when he stepped closer, her cheeks tinged plum with arousal and her lips swollen from his attentions. Soon, she’d have that, “I’ve just been fucked hard” look on her face to compliment the rest. The wall at her back was soft and spongy with moss and black and violet orchids. His island flower looked like a night nymph under the moon’s rays.