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Werewolf Fiction Club

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“You’re soaked,” Alpha Aden groans, kneeling between my legs. My wolf is clawing and clawing at me, desperate for his touch. But I can’t… Because he’s my boyfriend’s father.

----

A strange and muffled thump and a moan. I take two steps forward and peek around the door...
Oh my god. Not two feet from me, my boyfriend Hudson presses a blond-haired guy up against the wall of the storage room. One fist is wrapped in the fabric of his shirt, the other down his pants. He’s kissing him passionately, hungrily...

Tears in my eyes, I run from the room and from the coffee shop.
Today couldn’t have gone any worse.
No wonder I’m still a virgin…my instincts were so off that I’ve been dating a gay man.

***
Two hours later, I’m seated at a plastic table in a cinder-block cell, my hands are resting on my paperwork in front of me.
I need to shift, to run off this excess energy, these raging emotions.
I have to concentrate on my job now, as a psychology grad student working on my real-life work assignments here at the prison.
Today I have to make an assessment of Aden Kenwood. He’s not just a formidable wolf; he’s a mafia king, too. His unmatched cruelty and the unbelievable lengths he’ll go to in order to protect his power are infamous in Grayling City.

This man is muscular and tall, moving with a kind of dangerous grace. My eyes follow the way his shoulders shift beneath the fabric of his orange prison uniform, the way that the guards flinch a little as they unlock the silver cuffs on his wrists.
This is one powerful wolf shifter. No doubt about it.
His mere presence ignites something in me I’ve never felt before, and I have to squeeze my thighs together to quell the rush of desire between my legs.
I stifle a gasp as my eyes finally fall on Kenwood’s face and take him in, my mouth going dry. His dark hair falling over his forehead, his square jaw, the deep frown lines etched over green eyes…
Is this what a she-wolf’s heat feels like?

I’ve seen this man before. I saw him today—on my boyfriend’s Hudson phone.
And I’ve seen a younger version of him etched in the features of my boyfriend’s face.
Hudson isn’t just some rich kid.
He’s the son of the mafia king.

Werewolf Fiction Club

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