Baiting Ben
Baiting Ben
Moon Pack, book 2
Amber Kell
Published by Silver Publishing
Publisher of Erotic Romance
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Cover Artist: Reese Dante
Editor: Alison Todd
Baiting Ben © 2010 Amber Kell
ISBN # 978-1-920484-44-6
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Dedication:
I dedicate this book to everyone who loves wolves
and the idea of people turning into them.
Baiting Ben
Amber Kell
Chapter One
Benjamin Sallen entered the club with wide eyes
and a hopeful heart. It was a toss-up what was more
fascinating; the flashing lights, the flow of dancing bodies
writhing half naked across the floor, or the scantily clad
waiters sashaying around with trays of food? After filling
out innumerable forms to validate his werekin status, he
was finally allowed through the club doors.
His enhanced werewolf senses absorbed the smells
of sweat, lust, and sex. Never had he gotten so hard, so fast,
but the pheromones filling the room would make anyone
want to have sex. Ben had come to find a mate, but at that
moment he would take hot, sweaty sex with a total stranger
if it would take the edge off. As it was, his dick was trying
to burst through the zipper of his favorite jeans. He
wondered if this was the type of club that had a room in the
back for the convenience of its members.
Ben jumped back as a wereleopard slammed his
partner against the wall and started dry humping him.
Maybe they didn't need a private area. Shaking his head, he
walked through the dance floor, towards the bar. His throat
was dry and he didn't have to work tomorrow. His job as an
independent CPA let him set his own hours and prevented
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him from having to answer embarrassing questions about
why he couldn't work on days close to a full moon.
After months of settling into his new environment
and living without a pack, he yearned for the touch of
another werekin. Even the brief brush of flesh from the
shifters on the dance floor helped soothe the lonely animal
beneath his skin. Despite leaving his Alaskan pack only six
months ago, he was desperate for the company of others
like him. Hunting under a full moon wasn't the same
without a pack; it lacked the joyous luster, and the prey he
could catch was more of the rabbit variety than a fully-
grown deer.
Purchasing the club membership was his chance at a
new life. If he met and mated with a local werekin he could
gain acceptance into the pack. Even if he hooked up with
another lone wolf, at least they could become a pack of
two. In werekin culture anything was better than one. Lone
creatures didn't survive long in the big bad world,
especially small ones. At five feet nine inches, Ben was on
the short side for a wolf shifter. He blamed that on his
human mother. If he was full-blooded he would easily have
topped six feet. At least he could shift. He'd heard of half-
blooded werekin who were unable to shift but still felt the
call of the moon. Ben decided they must be in a special
type of hell, one he was lucky enough not to be a part of.
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Using his smaller size to slip through the crowds,
Ben made his way to the long wooden bar covering most of
the back wall. The bartender moved with a fluidity that
screamed cat shifter.
"What can I get you?" The bartender batted his long
sable lashes over a pair of piercing sea green eyes. "Besides
me."
Ben chuckled. "A rum and coke, please."
"Oooh a polite one." The bartender's hands moved
so fast the motion blurred. In seconds he was presenting
Ben's drink with a flourish and a flirty wink. "Anything
else?"
After giving the cute cat a tip in the glass jar beside
him, Ben flashed a grin of his own. "Not right now, but I'll
let you know if that changes."
It wouldn't. He was looking for one of his own kind.
In his wilder days the cat would've been a prime hookup,
but he was looking for something more permanent. Ben
wanted a mate. He wouldn't get it where he came from. At
the Great Claiming none of the werekin had stepped
forward to choose him. Maybe if Dillon had been home
things would've been different.
Maybe.
An image of a tall, dark werewolf with forest green
eyes flashed in his mind. Ben ruthlessly pushed it away
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Amber Kell
along with his feelings of longing. It had hurt to leave the
pack knowing he'd never see the handsome man again, but
Dillon was part of his past and tonight was about securing
his future.
"Hello there, cute stuff," a rough voice spoke from
behind him. He turned to see a huge man with cold black
eyes looking him over like Ben was a prime piece of meat
he wanted to devour.
"Um. Hi." He gave a polite smile and shifted a bit to
the side to look around the other man. A sniff proved the
guy was werekin, but not one with any mate potential. He
didn't give off the right scent.
To Ben's shock the man settled a heavy arm around
him. "What do you say you and I get to know each other
better? I'm Ned, what's your name?" It was more a
statement than a question, as the other man was already
lifting him off his barstool and guiding him towards the
exit.
"B-Ben." Panic rabbited in his chest. Great, his first
time in the club and already he was in trouble. Why did
things like this always happen to him? All he wanted to do
was meet the werewolf of his dreams and settle down, not
be kidnapped by a Neanderthal.
"There you are, honey. Ned, thank you for finding
him for me."
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Amber Kell
"Thomas." Ned's arm fell off his shoulders so
quickly Ben lost his balance, causing him to stumble into
the speaker. Firm arms wrapped around him, surrounding
him in a comforting embrace. He had the oddest sensation
of coming home.
"Hello, honey." Ben's quick glance up gave him an
impression of laughing hazel eyes and a wide white smile
before warm lips descended and kissed him to within an
inch of his life. Heat burned through his body. Whimpering
he moved closer to the other man, rubbing his erection
against the newcomer. The man called Thomas, felt long,
hard, and perfect against him. The smell of wet dew on a
grassy meadow filled his senses. He fought back the urge to
howl at the rightness of his scent.
His.
The stranger pulled back. Ben snarled, his gums
burning as his teeth elongated in preparation to bite. His
wolf wanted to mark the other man so everyone could see.
How dare he pull away, the man was his! He battled his
instincts to take the larger man down like a lame deer. To
bite him, fuck him, and make sure everyone knew he was
claimed. Startled by the violence of his thoughts, Ben
stepped back.
"I guess he
is
yours," Ned said behind him. "You
better keep an eye on him before some mate hunter steals
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him away." The words trailed off as Ned walked back into
the crowd, quickly swallowed by the crowd of dancing
people.
Trying to subdue his oddly aggressive wolf, Ben
gave his head a little shake. As one of the least alpha
members of the pack, he was surprised at this sudden
compulsion to claim the other man. Hope burst through him
as he wondered if maybe he'd found what he was looking
for after all.
A small part of him protested that this man wasn't
Dillon. Ben ruthlessly suppressed it and turned his attention
on the tall, dark man who looked like a model from a
glossy magazine. The kind you had to read with one hand.
* * * *
Thomas looked down at the pretty red-haired wolf
and almost came right then. Gold eyes, an aquiline nose,
and lips so lush they would make a straight man dream of
fucking men. He'd seen prettier men, his alpha had the most
beautiful man on the planet for his partner, but he'd never
met one so compelling.
Mate
.
The word whispered across his mind, a message
from his inner wolf. Everything fell into place, the smell,
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Amber Kell
the looks, and the incredible kiss. There was no doubt in his