Bro and the Beast (The Wolf's Mate, #1)

by L.C. Davis

I'm starting to think the sketchier a guy is, the greater the chance he's an alpha.

I've lived on this planet for twenty-two fucking years and I've never seen someone's eyes twinkle. Something is very, very wrong with this place.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Who does that? Me, apparently. Oh my God, I have to get out of this place.

"You know about omegas, then?" I ask. "Sure I do," he says, waving his hand dismissively. "Submissive, doe-eyed little werewolves with daddy issues and tight pussies that put off magical pheromones once a month that drive you and all the other alphas batshit, so the vamps are always trying to take them like some fucked up game of capture the flag."

He slams the empty glass down on the table and says, "I'll drink you under the table anytime, anywhere, you fleabitten mofo." All I can do is gaze at him, a strange warmth stirring in my chest. "You are a charming creature, Brad."

This is definitely that look that melts the main character's panties. My sweatpants are getting tight for entirely unrelated reasons, though. Damn, I gotta get out of this place.

the sight of his naked torso shakes out all my thoughts like a fucking etch-a-sketch.

Fucking hell, maybe I am a little bit gay. Like... one percent. Maybe one and a half. He spreads my cheeks and his tongue slides up my crack and it immediately skyrockets to five percent.

"Great," I mutter. "Just what I've always wanted. A magical, lube-dispensing asshole to turn alphas on."

"Easy," he says, and that's the six-hundred dollar square in “things you'd say to a horse and also a lover."