Thursday, October 26, 2006

Wolf In Cheap Clothing by Charlene Teglia

Wolf In Cheap Clothing

Copyright 2006 by Charlene Teglia

Ellora’s Cave Publishing All Rights Reserved

5 Blue Ribbons, Romance Junkies

I haven’t had this much fun with a werewolf story since I read MaryJanice Davidson’s Wyndham werewolf series. Simply delightful! I’ll definitely be adding this one to my keeper shelf." - Chrissy Dionne

Reviewer’s Choice Golden Rose Award, Love Romances

2006 Ecataromance Reviewer’s Choice Award nominee


When Louise Catrell dresses up in a little red bikini and goes hunting for the big, bad wolf, finding herself in handcuffs isn't part of the plan. Although what alpha werewolf Dylan Richardson uses them for goes a long ways towards redeeming the evening.

Finding a she-wolf dressed up in cheap clothing isn't nearly as fun as undressing her proves. But sex on the beach isn't all Dylan's after. He's claiming Lou for keeps. Their animal sides may be in agreement, but it'll take all Dylan's persuasion to win Lou's human heart. And he doesn't have much time. The moon is rising, and it will take both of them to bring down the rogue werewolf who is waiting to kill again.


"This is so sudden." Lou pitched her voice seductively low to cover the waver of alarm in it. She wiggled the hands currently cuffed behind her back and went on, "Usually there's some small talk and foreplay before the handcuffs come out."

"Nothing stopping us from talking now," a lazy masculine drawl pointed out from behind her. Very close behind her. "And as for the foreplay, with handcuffs on you it means I have to do all the work."

Dammit. He was seriously going to leave her like this. Lou closed her eyes and cursed inwardly. Out loud would feel better, but it would also ruin her current persona of party girl on the prowl.

The evening was not going according to plan.

"Look. This is a little fast for me." She shifted forward, away from his body heat and his breath on her bare shoulders. "I don't usually do bondage on the first date."

"We're not dating," he pointed out. "We're not even having a one-night stand. You picked me up in there and brought me outside to have sex on the beach."

"That could take all night, if you do it right," Lou said, starting to feel annoyed. Honestly. Men. "We didn't exactly get specific in the bar. It was too noisy. I didn't say I wanted you for a five-minute quickie."

"You implied you could be easily satisfied." A hand trailed down her spine, toyed with the silky fabric of her bikini top and then slipped inside the waistband of her almost a skirt.

A hand that belonged to a total stranger. A stranger who might be a killer. And she was helpless. Shit, shit, shit.

"Seriously, you have to let me go for a minute. I need to get something from my car." Lou leaned back against him, letting her body relax into his. Strangely easy to do, given the circumstances. Something about him made her want to rub against him and luxuriate in the contact.

"And then you won't object to me putting the cuffs right back on you?"

"Hey, if it means you'll do all the work." She let her voice trail off into what hopefully sounded like a sexy laugh and not hyperventilating panic.

"And what's in your car that's so important?"

A gun. Loaded. "Condoms, silly."

"I have condoms."

Just her luck, he was prepared. Or was he lying to her? "Let me see," Lou demanded. She tossed her head, a movement that made her blond ponytail tickle his bare chest. Hopefully it distracted him.

She felt his body shift, felt his hand slide into the front jeans pocket that her barely-covered butt was now plastered up against and heard the crinkle of a foil-wrapped package. He reached around her bare waist to display it on his open palm. "There."

"It's too dark," she hedged. "I can't see what kind. I always use ribbed and lubricated."

"Picky." His voice was clearly amused. Well, that was something. It beat homicidal rage. "I'm in charge of foreplay, remember? Lubrication won't be a problem."

"What about the ribs?" Lou decided it was perfectly in character to harp on that point. A real party girl would demand ribbed for her pleasure.

"I think you'll find me adequate without enhancement." The hand holding the condom pressed against her belly, molding her butt more firmly against the hard ridge of his erection. Lou felt her eyes widen in surprise. Adequate? That was an understatement.

She dragged her mind away from his demonstrably adequate equipment and back to the sticking point. He wasn't going to be talked into letting her go. Which might be fine if he really didn't have anything but uncomplicated sex in mind, but there was that if.

"I know what you're doing."

Cold fear knifed through her belly. "W-what do you mean?"

"You're stalling." His other hand came around her waist, slid low and rubbed a slow circle over her mound, subtly stimulating her clit. The thin denim fabric of her skirt felt like an incredibly inadequate layer of protection between her flesh and his hand. "Are you afraid to submit to me and ask for my protection?"

"That's it," Lou said, latching on to his explanation. Then she realized it made no sense at all. "I mean, what?"

"You're a strange female in my territory." His breath touched her bare neck seconds before his lips did. "You're unmated. I'm the alpha. You have the right to ask for my protection and the protection of my pack if you submit to me."

"Um, I think you have the wrong girl." She shivered. His lips had no business feeling seductive and wonderful on the curve of her neck. But then a lot of serial killers were probably practiced seducers, which was how they got their victims alone and vulnerable.

Teeth closed over her neck and bit into the skin. "Ouch! Look, this has gone far enough. I've changed my mind."

He let out a low growl. It resonated over her skin and slipped underneath, making something inside her hum in response.

To Lou's disbelief, her body betrayed her. Her head fell back, exposing her throat to him. He was alpha and she was submitting to him.

Terror filled her. This was it, the nightmare she'd lived with for so many months. Teeth were going to slash and rend her exposed flesh, her blood would spill, her bones would shatter. She'd survived before, but what if he recognized her and made sure to finish the job this time?

"You taste like fear." There was a new sound in his voice. Rough, aroused, animal.

For news and excerpts, visit www.charleneteglia.com

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