Her Lycan Lover Read Online Free PDF Page B

his old friend. It had been Jeremy that had escorted both him and Shawn into the mountains when he’d needed to find a healer for his friend. Felt like a century ago.
    “Who’s up for a line of shots?” Quinn asked, stepping back to once again eye the platinum blonde as she sashayed her way toward the bar.
    She ordered and turned around, gazing in his direction. Unbreakable. That’s what her body and stare just about screamed. He’d gotten to know a slew of those types—females that had a ton of baggage. Those ladies visited clubs such as the Den to escape for a while and he wasn’t about to complain.
    The dish at the bar didn’t wither under his blatant stare. Her short, silvery hair and the diamonds decking several surfaces did not place her as hired entertainment. The Den had several male doms and a one or two dominatrices, and scads of subs who were there to fulfill needs as they arose.
    Tonight, Sherry had arranged for a smattering of club staff to help keep the party going. Simon had a crew of NFL ballers. Rowdy shifters except while at the club. This was a private affair and the rooms along the east wing were reserved for the bachelor party guests. Eventually, shifters would pair up or form larger circles in which to explore all that the club had to offer as far as titillating experiences.
    A round of applause gave way the moment Simon walked into the room. Jeremy followed him over to a small crowd of men smoking cigars and drinking while stealing heated glances at the females arriving. Quinn understood that the anticipation was part of the game for horny male shifters at the club.
    He lacked the temperament for that tonight. He hungered for a sure thing. No games. No conversation. At the bar an arched blond brow beckoned him without a word. No need to resist when he inhaled and found her aroused. He was only surprised she was human and not a common occurrence upstairs. Was she trying her hand at shifter sex? She didn’t seem like one to take orders. With a provocative stance, her bold stare told him she enjoyed calling the shots. He bet she wasn’t tied down to one man and probably never would, preferring to play the field.
    “Good evening,” he said coming up to her. “I couldn’t help noticing you. I’m Quinn Rothschild.”
    “I’m well aware of you, Mr. Rothschild. I’ve been waiting to make your proper acquaintance for many moons.”
    “It seems as though we’ve met before,” Quinn said.
    She smiled, flashing small teeth, and her long, pink tongue languidly swiped across her lips. “Not the pickup line I expected from a man like you.” She extracted a cigarette and waved him off when he picked up a box of matches at the bar. The woman flicked the cap of a gold lighter. She inhaled, peering at him as the flame burned the end of her cigarette bright red in the dim light. Exhaling, she lowered her cigarette. “Maybe we have and maybe we haven’t. Let’s just go with, I’m Nina Brown-Miles. At least for tonight.”
    Mystery solved. Sort of. He didn’t care if they had met before or not. A name would do. Any name. And what did that take? All of three minutes. So little kept him entertained these days.
    “Ah, Ms. Miles.” He extended his hand, grasping hers, and bringing it to his lips. “A pleasure.”
    She shivered at the touch of his mouth. “Actually, I need to speak with you.”
    Ding. Ding. Nina piqued his curiosity. “You have my undivided attention.” He held onto the dainty hand.
    “Thank you.” She broke eye contact and glanced around the room, pulling a long drag on her cigarette.
    What in the world would someone like Nina want with him? It wasn’t to shoot darts. Perhaps she had a legal concern.
    “Can we speak in private? To discuss a possible donation. After you’ve ordered your drink.” Her eyes held his, but then lowered as she ran her fingers through her hair and down her neck.
    No more guesswork. The only donation this lady wanted was carnal. “Sweets, I’d