Logan’s Pov
Relief flooded through me as I finally set my sights on home after enduring one of the most excruciating weeks of my life. The annual Forest Preservation Summit was as dull as ever-Alphas droning on about safeguarding our wolves’ habitat. Sure, it was vital, but exciting? Not in the slightest. To make matters worse, she-wolves were barred from attending, and the never-ending evening events left no room for me to seek out some female company.
A week of forced celibacy, coupled with the excess testosterone saturating the room, made tensions run high. We argued more than we collaborated, and I’m honestly surprised I didn’t lose my mind. Knowing what I was in for, I’d wisely scouted a small bar on the outskirts of town before checking into the hotel.
As I drove, memories of the curvy brunette I encountered there played through my head.
“Well, hello, handsome. What brings you in tonight?” she teased, resting her elbows on my table and offering a tantalizing view of her cleavage.
“I hadn’t decided. But now that you ask, I’m pretty sure you’re exactly what I was looking for,” I murmured in a husky tone, leaning in just enough for my breath to graze her ear. The shiver that coursed through her didn’t escape my notice.
“Oh, I’m certain I’ve got what you need. Follow me.” With a wink, she turned, her hips swaying as she led me through a side door that opened into a dimly lit alley.
The moment the door clicked shut, she spun around to face me.
“And what exactly do you think you’ve got that I need, little girl?” I smirked, pinning her against the brick wall.
“Why don’t I just show you?” she replied, flipping the script as she pressed me against the wall and sank to her knees. In seconds, my jeans and boxers pooled around my ankles.
“Damn,” I groaned as her slender fingers wrapped around me, stroking with practiced ease.
“I wonder if you taste as good as you look,” she teased, licking her lips before her mouth closed around me. Just the memory of her mouth working me over was enough to keep me going through the week.
A car horn blaring yanked me from my reverie. Chris brown’s “S. E. X.” blasted from the radio, and I found myself singing along. “It’s never a question ’cause the answer’s yes!”
The song stirred thoughts of my weekend plans. After the drudgery of the summit, I was itching to let loose. A new bar called Waves had opened just beyond our pack’s territory-a trendy dance club serving fancy cocktails and teeming with scantily clad women. Exactly my scene. I decided to hit up my best friend and Beta, Bastian.
“What’s up, man? You on your way home?” He answered on the first ring, skipping the formalities.
“Yeah, should be there in a few hours. Everything good on your end?” I asked, though we both knew I’d have heard if something had gone wrong.
“Of course. Liam’s still in Crystal Moon finalizing the alliance, but you left the world’s best Beta and Gamma in charge. What could possibly go wrong?” he deadpanned.
“I can think of a few things,” I quipped, and we both chuckled. “Hey, you got plans tonight? There’s a new bar I wanna check out.”
He groaned, as expected. Bastian was as straight-laced as they come-almost as bad as my brother but with a better sense of humor. Still, he’d cave eventually and play wingman.
“Dude, you know I hate those bars. They’re loud, crowded, and reek of sweat and sex,” he griped.
“That’s what makes them great! Good vibes, sexy she-wolves pressing up against you,” I argued.
“Logan, you know there’s only one she-wolf I want pressed up against me, and I haven’t found her yet,” he shot back. Bastian was holding out for his mate, and he always got prickly when I suggested he loosen up.
I considered guilting him into coming, but the thought of dragging my brooding best friend along only to watch him sulk killed my vibe. Normally, the promise of drinks, dancing, and hot, sweaty encounters would have me relentless in my persuasion.
Lately, though, I was off my game. Even my wolf, Fang, who was usually more eager for carnal pursuits than I was, had been disinterested.
“It’s not fun anymore. Those women are all the same. We should be searching for our mate. She’ll be different,” Fang grumbled in my head.
“Or she’ll be some prude who sucks the fun out of life,” I countered.
Fang huffed but offered no retort. He wasn’t wrong, though. The women I encountered were predictable, more interested in the status of being with me than in me as a person.
It was that sobering realization that left me feeling more disillusioned than ever.