Wild Nights with a Lone Wolf by Elisabeth Staab

more.
    He turned off his phone so he could claim ignorance if any calls came. Not that he ever stayed long, and he sure as hell never played. Watching probably scored as high as participating on the sin-o-meter, but it was the way he liked to rationalize. He wasn’t that bad.
    He wasn’t like them.
    The guard at the door didn’t smell like were , but the big fucker sure did carry himself like one. “Password?”
    “ Entre .” Stupidest password ever. Might as well have everyone say “Open sesame.”
    When the guard held out his hand, Jett slapped down his ID and a fifty. Jesus. Fifty bucks to stand around for half an hour and watch some naked fucking around between humans and wolves. Broken down by unit price, porn would be cheaper.
    Once inside, a tarted-up door girl wearing nothing but heels and black thigh-highs offered politely to take his clothing. Offered, as if keeping them was an option. These places used their “private club” status to get away with a great deal. Rules got bent. They got broken right the hell in two.
    Jett kept hoping he wouldn’t be around if that happened. If? When.
    He ordered a double amaretto on the rocks from the bar. Something to drink so he wouldn’t look like a total asshole, but he’d be fine to drive in a short while when he tucked-tail and disappeared into the night.
    A tall man with sandy hair appeared at his elbow. “You move fast. I wanted to buy you a drink, but you beat me to the punch.”
    “Another time.” Jett smiled, knowing he spoke a lie. Not for the first time, he wished he didn’t have a rule against hooking up at these parties. Rules were a must. Heaven forbid another raid busted everybody’s fun. He couldn’t afford to have his dick buried in some unsuspecting human while the building owner did lines of coke off a prostitute in the back room. For example.
    The man trailed a finger over the faded pack markings on Jett’s forearm. “My wife over there finds you extremely attractive. I’d love to see you two together.”
    The hairs on Jett’s neck and shoulders stood up as interest mixed with annoyance at being touched without permission. He looked over to a post in the center of the room where a dark-haired woman posed against it, one hand in her hair, the other holding a mixed drink. She had creamy skin and lush curves, and even though he had no interest in females, he had to appreciate her beauty.
    The idea of a man fetishizing his wife with a were , however? Plain old icky. There was also Jett’s no fucking rule. “Sorry,” he said. “I don’t do couples. I’m a one-man kind of wolf.”
    Or none, since bonding among his kind meant something much different than it did among humans. Jett was alpha of the blow and go. Quick and impersonal.
    Lovemaking? Relationships? He wouldn’t know how.
    The sandy-haired, wife-pimping man tipped his head. “Understood.” He leaned to the side, ostensibly to bump shoulders, but managed to bump other parts as well. “Let me know if you change your mind about that drink.”
    Jett grinned as the man sauntered back to his wife. Human behavior could be so interesting. Sometimes he didn’t think they could be all that different. Sometimes, he felt a million miles from their kind.
    “Oh my God!”
    Jett’s fingers tensed at the shout. Shit, he had no gun. No clothes.
    He also had nothing to worry about. At the far end of the warehouse, a young, female shifter with golden hair writhed on a table. A human woman, dressed in shiny red heels, wrapped an intricate network of rope around the young were’s body.
    Jett sucked in a breath. Fascinating. He’d heard of this sort of thing, but hadn’t seen it in action.
    “Holy shit,” he whispered. They weren’t fucking. Hell, the two hardly even touched. The sight held him captivated all the same—a were submitting to a human, so turned on by the ropes binding her that she heaved and trembled with each breath.
    A were submitting to a human. He wanted to look away,