Shifters' Captive:Magical Menages 1(7)

By: Bonnie Dee



“Real gentle, knocking me to the ground and slobbering into my face.” She rubbed her shoulder.

He noticed she didn’t mention his dry-humping her. “Sorry about that.” Her dimples disappeared and a frown creased her brow. “What does it feel like? The change and being a…a wolf?”

John closed his eyes and inhaled as he tried to think of a way to describe it. The rich bacon smell tickled his nose and whet his appetite, but the subtler smell of the woman standing before him filled his senses and hunger raged through him.

“Like having a bandage ripped off and feeling air on a raw wound. Fully alive and painfully real.”

“Sounds awful.”

He shook his head and opened his eyes to look into hers again. “It’s the greatest pleasure I know.”

“Better than sex?” Her eyebrows shot up.

“Well…a different category of pleasure.”

“So, you and your people all live in this town and you only have sex with your own kind. Don’t you get a little inbred?”

He was amused by her open curiosity and ridiculously turned on every time she said the word sex.

“There are other packs living other places. Sometimes we have to search far away to find a mate.

You’re right. It’s not as easy as going down to the local bar and picking up some girl for the night like humans do. Not when many of the women in town are your cousins.”

“Why not just do it with a human chick? I mean, the body parts fit together the same way, don’t they?”

“Yes. Some shifters do that for quick relief. I don’t choose to.” He was starting to sweat and he stepped away from the hot plate. Her questions were making him think of things he didn’t need to be thinking about when his body was already so sensitized and ready to mate.

Food. Focus on food and getting it into her mouth so she’d stop talking.

“Why don’t you get some bread out? We can’t toast it, but we can have it with the bacon and eggs.” Sherrie pulled slices of limp bread from the bag that was crushed from landing on the floor. “What about food? You don’t eat raw meat?”

“No.” He removed the bacon from the pan and broke the eggs into it in quick succession.

“But when you’re…in that other form, you eat rabbits and squirrels and mice?”

“Yes.” He had to step close to her to get a couple of chipped and dusty plates from the cupboard above her head. It was a mistake. When he inhaled the scent of her hair and her warm skin, fresh arousal surged through him.

John slapped the plates on the counter and the bacon and eggs onto the plates. He thrust one at her.

“Here.”

“What’s the matter? Am I embarrassing you? Well, it could be worse. I could have knocked you unconscious and dragged you somewhere against your will.” His patience and his control were at a breaking point.

“Go ahead and eat. I’ll be outside.” John stalked toward the door.

“Are you mad? What do you have to be mad about?” she called after him.

He closed the door behind him before he did something they’d both regret.





Chapter Two


The moment she was alone, Sherrie searched the few kitchen cupboards and drawers for anything sharp she could use to protect herself. John Walker might appear to be a nice enough guy, but she wasn’t taking chances—not when he had an alter-ego that made Cujo look like a pussycat. There wasn’t one useful, sharp, pointy thing except an old can opener.

The smell of the bacon had her stomach twisting in knots. She hadn’t eaten since before her shift started last night, and who knew how late the following day it was now. Sherrie piled the bacon and eggs on a piece of bread, folded it over and devoured the sandwich then she looked at Walker’s untouched plate.

If he was going to let it grow stone cold while he sulked outside, she’d polish it off for him. Gina Stoltz didn’t raise her daughter to waste food.

She slowed down on the second meal, savoring the crisp bacon and salty eggs, and when she was finished, she burped and patted her contented stomach. Yet even though her hunger was appeased, she still felt empty, like there was something else she desperately needed. Maybe it was dessert.

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