Page 27 of Love That Sass

His sensitive ears picked up on the sounds of the band arriving. They were a Shifter group, all women, and they usually packed the house. Sure, the bar’s customers tended to be mostly supes, though the odd human came in from time to time.

He could hear them loading their instruments onto the stage. Other sounds filtered through to where he and Cole stood by that side door. Brock shouted orders from the kitchen, the nighttime wait staff was slowly filing in, and Thor, another Pack mate, had taken his place by the door as the bouncer for the night.

It was just another Saturday night, and Serious Moonlight promised to be packed.

“I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through, man,” Cole added. “But maybe just take it day by day.”

“Yeah,” Weylin nodded, clapping the male on the shoulder as he walked past.

Not like he could take the days two at a time, anyway. Slow and steady won the race. But Gwendolyn wasn’t just some race he wanted to win. She wasn’t a challenge he needed to notch his bedpost. She was his whole damn future. For a Dire Wolf who never took things seriously before, and enjoyed living in the fast lane, slow and steady was a helluva change.

“So, shift if you need to. I will cover you for a while. But bro, is she worth it?” Cole asked before he walked away.

“Fuck yeah,” Weylin replied automatically.

As if on cue, Gwendolyn entered the hall, dressed in the bar uniform. Her brown eyes found his across the way, and he was struck dumb.

Holy hell.

She must have brought her own ripped up jeans because they hugged her curves like a second skin, accentuating the dip of her waist and flare of her hips. That little cotton t-shirt with the neon pink Serious Moonlight logo splashed across the front didn’t look like it had a prayer of containing her ample bosoms for the duration.

Strategically ripped and cut low in the front, exposing the trim of the sexy lace bra she had on underneath. It was enough to make his mouth water. A growl left his throat at the mere thought of anyone else looking at her this way, but he had no right to be so damn protective.

The truth of that statement did nothing to settle his beast down. Hell, she deserved compliments and stares. She was gorgeous. Weylin shouldn’t be worried about anything. Whatever woman magic females used when it came to turning men into obsessive nincompoops, she’d done her bit alright. Weylin was a fool for her and right then, he did not care who knew it.

His eyes ate her up as she slowly walked confidently across the floor, high-heeled boots on her feet making aclack clack clacksound as she went. The beat was in time with his heavily pounding heart, not to mention the thumping erection below his belt. He’d never seen such a tempting woman in all his life.

She ducked her head down, as if steeling herself, then found his gaze once more. The smile she gave him then was bright, and he felt one echoing across his face. Lifting her arms, she did a little spin for him, and he grinned even wider.

Heartbreaker.

Damn, she was sexy as fuck with that little strip of skin around her navel peeking out as her raised arms lifted the tight shirt. Her confidence and obvious enjoyment made her even more attractive.

“Holy hell. Little normal is smokin’ hot!” Cole mumbled from beside him, followed by an, “Ooof!”

Whatever. It was only a little punch. Weylin tried not to grin as the fucker gasped. Cole went in for a punch, but Weylin blocked him easily, all without turning his head. He twisted the man’s arm, and Cole whimpered.

“Ouch!”

“Fuck off, Cole.”

“Stop staring at her so we can have a decent fight,” grumbled his Pack mate.

“Not on your life,” Weylin grunted.

If he had the choice, he would never stop staring at her. Gwendolyn frowned over her shoulder at the two men before walking to the back bar. What a pleasant view it was, watching her butt sway from side to side in her new gear. The woman was killing him, but he had a plan now.

Slow and steady. Fuck what his Pack mates thought. Gwendolyn Hoffer was going to be his.

Mine.

Chapter9

It was only eleven, and the place was jampacked. The band was really rocking, and she had to hand it to them, they were the best all-female group she’d ever seen, except for maybe clips of the Go-Go’s on YouTube. She’d been juggling customers between sets, and so far, so good.

“How are you doing back here?” Weylin asked.

Gwen froze from where she was bent over, retrieving more longnecks to fill the coolers lining the back of the bar. Beer and shots had been the standard so far.

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