"Lady," Jurgen Cuyper said, gritting his teeth as his
cock dug at the confines of his jeans. Music pumped from
the old jukebox in the corner of the bar. It was a song
that was made before he was born and it was one of the most
recent songs the thing had to offer. "I don't know who the
hell you think you are but I'm trying to enjoy a drink and
your yapping is makin' that damn hard to do."
The woman, her strawberry–blonde hair pulled back
in a tight bun, gasped. Tiny wisps of it came free and he
knew it was long and slightly curly. His fingers itched to
run through it.
Her blue eyes reeled with astonishment and her tongue
darted out and over her lips. "My yapping?"
He palmed his dick through his jeans, staring her over.
She'd be a sweet fuck. He was sure of that. He could almost
taste her cream on his lips as he brought his glass to his
mouth. The whiskey had a slight bite, nowhere as sharp as
his could be. He glanced at his buddy, a fellow private
pilot, and grinned. "Think she'd look good on me? Looks
about my size, doesn't she?"
His friend laughed, lifting his drink and slamming it
down. "Hell yeah. If she doesn't fit you, man, I'll take
her for a spin or two."
Pure animalistic rage ripped through him and his eyes
burned with the need to shift colors. His voice deepened in
warning. "Don't even think about it."
Putting his hands up to signal surrender, his friend
hurried away, knowing better than to chance Jurgen's wrath.
He had no reason to stake a claim on the woman but he
couldn't seem to stop himself. His supernatural blood
tended to control his moods more than he liked but it had
never done so to this extent before.
The woman huffed, lifted the bottle of whiskey and
poured it directly onto his lap. Jurgen shot up and out of
the chair, sending it crashing to the ground. Disbelief
shot through him. The woman actually wasted perfectly good
liquor. He was about to tell her exactly what he thought of
that when he noticed the moisture in her eyes. Her bottom
lip trembled and dammit if his chest didn't get all tight.
Fuck.
He ran a hand over his shorn hair and glanced to the
side to find most of the bar staring at him. The place was
a dive but it was a dive he knew well. He glared at them
and they looked away.
Putting his hand out, Jurgen sighed. "Don't do that."
She held the empty bottle out to him, her chin wobbling.
"For Christ's sake, lady, don't do that."
She burst into tears and he growled, bending and
scooping her up. He tossed her over one shoulder and
stalked toward the back of the bar. She slapped at his back
but he ignored her. His jeans rubbed him the wrong way and
chaffing was a real threat. His boots crunched the semi
sandy soil as he headed straight for one of the many tiny
cabins that ran along the backside of the bar.
"Put me down!" the pistol of a woman over his shoulder
yelled, hitting at his back again.
"I will." He flashed a wicked grin. "Then I'm stripping
these wet jeans off and I'm going to make you lick every
drop of whiskey from my body."
She froze and it took all he had not to laugh. As much
as he wanted that pretty pink tongue running over the head
of his cock, he'd never force a woman to do anything she
didn't want to do. That wasn't his thing. Though he had to
admit he'd considered whisking away the livid li'l thing.
He'd caught her engaging scent before she'd even entered
the bar. His cock responded first, which wasn't surprising.
The thing did tend to have a mind of its own. The beast he
carried within was next in line to acknowledge that she
stirred something in him.
Hell, that was sight unseen.
Watching her sexy body sashay into the bar as she'd
asked for a pilot and a plane to take her to the mainland
did something to him he couldn't explain. For a minute, the
pulsing in his cock seemed to reach his head, beating,
pounding out something that sounded remarkably like "claim
her".
A shudder raced through him at the thought of tying
himself to any one woman, let alone the one he held now.
She was demanding, prissy, too proper, too wiggling on his
shoulder.
Her arousal assailed his senses. Inhaling deeply, Jurgen
groaned, the tip of his dick leaking
pre–come. "Woman, be still or you will be fucked good
and hard. Am I clear?"
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