Page 6 of Heroes & Hitmen (Windy City Wolfpack #1)

Miley

“So, you come here often?” Ares asks as he sets his empty shot glass back on the bar, that lazy smirk sliding back into place on his alarmingly handsome face.

He’s hot as fuck, I’ll give him that. It’s impossible not to notice the sharpness of his features or the intensity in his dark eyes as he tilts his head in question, clearly thinking this act of his is making me swoon.

It’s not. I pegged him an arrogant asshole from the moment he slid up beside me at the bar, acting as if he just needed a drink and wasn’t eye-fucking me from across the room a minute earlier.

Ironically, the fact that he’s such an insufferable prick is the reason I’m still humoring the guy.

If I can’t stand Ares Raines, then there’s no chance in hell I’ll be catching feelings for him.

“Not really,” I murmur, shifting on my barstool as I glance past him to scan the crowd. Jordan dragged me out tonight, but of course she’s already pulled a vanishing act. Probably off hooking up with some random dude just to prove a point.

Honestly, I’m not sure if I resent or envy her for it.

Maybe a little of both. What I do know is that Jordan lives her life unapologetically, making the most of every day she’s got left before she’s inevitably sold off in one of Alpha’s business deals, while I’ve spent my whole life keeping my head down and following the rules.

I used to judge my sister for the way she fought back, but now that my days of freedom are numbered, I finally understand where she was coming from.

And I’ve realized that I have some fight in me, too.

“What are your usual spots, then?” Ares presses, carding his fingers through his hair.

It’s longer on top, intentionally messy in that deliciously rugged way that many men attempt, but few can actually pull off.

He does. And while I’ve never been particularly attracted to red hair on guys, Ares Raines somehow makes it work.

The warm auburn hue suits him, the dusting of rust-colored stubble on his square jaw only adding to his roguish appeal.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I sigh as I fiddle with the little straw in my drink, already bored with this line of questioning. “I don’t really go out to the bars much.”

“What brings you out tonight, then?” he asks, leaning back and resting a casual elbow against the bar top.

While I loathe this kind of vapid small talk, I can’t deny that I’m enjoying the view. He’s pure muscle under that shirt, the kind of build that just screams power and control. Paired with his dominant Alpha energy, I’m betting he knows a thing or two about taking charge in the bedroom.

In fact, I’m counting on it.

“My sister dragged me out,” I admit, doing another quick scan of the room for the elusive woman in question. “Said I needed to get laid.”

He chokes on the sip of beer he was taking, wiping his mouth on the back of a hand and chuckling through his cough as he tries to play it off. “Oh yeah?” he asks, grinning like a devil. “Got anyone in mind?”

I shrug, making a show of glancing around the bar again. When my eyes settle back on Ares, the bastard just grins even wider, like he thinks he’s won something.

“Maybe,” I say, deliberately vague, then take a slow sip of my drink.

He lifts his beer, eyes locked on mine over the rim as he takes a swig, looking far too pleased with himself.

I’ve got him exactly where I want him. Now I just have to decide how soon I feel like making my exit.

“Could be fate,” he remarks, setting his beer bottle down with a wink. “You know, the two of us ending up here tonight.”

He delivers the line like he thinks it’s smooth. It’s not. But I’ll give him credit– it’s charming in the worst kind of way .

I roll my eyes. “Fate’s got a weird sense of humor, then.”

Ares leans in slightly, enough to make it intimate, but not invasive. “Come on, admit it,” he murmurs. “You’re glad I came over.”

“Glad might be a stretch,” I snort.

“You didn’t tell me to fuck off.”

“ Yet .”

He laughs, the sound of it sending vibrations through my own chest, dark eyes glinting with determination and the golden flecks of his inner wolf pushing to the surface. “Okay, so what’s it gonna take to win you over, Miley Beckett?”

“You asking because you care, or because your ego can’t handle not being the most charming guy in the room?”

“Both.” He shrugs. “I’m a complex man.”

“That’s one word for it.”

“Ouch,” he gasps, pressing a hand to his broad chest and feigning injury. Then he laughs it off, shaking his head. “Seriously, though. No pickup lines, no bullshit. Just straight talk, what do you want out of tonight?”

That gets my attention. The playfulness doesn’t leave his tone, but there’s a hint of something sincere behind it– and dammit if that doesn’t make it worse. I hate that he’s growing on me, even a little bit.

I sip my drink slowly, eyes locked on his as I consider the question. I honestly can’t remember the last time someone asked me what I want. My entire life has been choreographed, every decision made for me. From where I live, to the school I attend, to who I’ll take as a mate…

Elias Burke is the name of the mystery man who chose me.

I was right about him being an Alpha, and I was also spot-on about the bad vibes I picked up.

My father’s no saint, but he’s curated his public image so well that if you googled his name, you’d find him described as a philanthropist, a businessman, and a pillar of the community. That’s not the case with Elias Burke.

My research painted an ugly picture of my mate-to-be, who evidently flaunts his criminal activities as a form of intimidation.

His pack resides in Detroit, Michigan– a nine hour drive from here– so there’s no way I’ll be finishing my college degree or popping back into town to visit my sisters.

In less than two weeks, my life as I know it will be over, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do to stop what’s already been set into motion .

But this, what I’m here for tonight? This I can control. This is one thing that’s my choice, and my choice alone.

So, what do I want?

My eyes move over Ares, assessing. Strong hands, thick, veiny forearms, a smirk that won’t quit… yeah, he’s exactly what I’m looking for tonight.

“Right now I just want to stop thinking so much,” I admit, and it feels like the first truth I’ve told since he sat down.

His lips twitch into a half-smile, but he doesn’t crack a joke. Not right away.

“I can help with that,” he growls, low and certain.

I arch a brow. “Confident.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“And if you’re terrible in bed?” I counter, feeling the corners of my mouth tug upward despite myself.

“Impossible,” he deadpans. “But if it helps, I come with references.”

I snort a wry laugh, rolling my eyes. “Disgusting.”

“But effective.”

He watches me intently, like he’s trying to figure out what makes me tick, and I like it more than I care to admit. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone’s full attention like this before; had someone look at me like they actually see me. It’s unsettling and thrilling all at once.

The music around us blurs into background noise, the buzz of alcohol and chemistry humming between us. I down the last of my drink and set the glass on the bar.

“Fine, let’s go,” I say.

He blinks, eyes lighting up with excitement. “Yeah?”

“Unless you’re all talk.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckles, rising to stand and offering me his hand. “I’m never just talk.”

I ignore his hand and slide off the stool on my own, smoothing the hem of my short skirt down over my thighs. “We’ll see about that.”

Turning on a heel, I start for the rear exit of the bar, Ares falling into step beside me.

“Should I text my references now, or wait until morning?” he teases, glancing down at me with a grin that’s all wicked promise.

“If you’re lucky, I’ll leave you a review,” I mutter as we slip into the back hallway, the thrum of music dulling behind us with each step.

It’s dim back here, lit only by a flickering bulb overhead that casts jumpy shadows on the concrete walls.

Ares follows close, all heat and confidence, his presence pressing in around me even before we reach the heavy metal door at the end.

It creaks open under my hand, and we step out into the alley, cool night air rushing against my skin carrying the scent of spilled beer, grease, and faint cigarette smoke.

Not exactly the romantic backdrop I pictured for my first time, but I’ve decided tonight doesn’t need to make sense. It just needs to be mine .

The door swings shut behind us with a muffled clang, sealing us off from the bar and everyone in it. I turn to face Ares, crooking a finger to beckon him as a slow, seductive smile curls my lips.

He watches me like a predator tracking prey, those dark eyes completely focused. “I like a girl who knows what she wants,” he murmurs, voice rough around the edges as he steps in close.

I’m not that girl, though– not really . I’m never this forward. But tonight, I know what I don’t want, and that’s to leave this city without doing something reckless, real, and completely on my own terms.

He’s so close now, heat radiating off him, his eyes steady on mine. I grab a fistful of his shirt and yank him in before I can second-guess it, tasting his surprise as I crush my lips against his.

Hesitation flickers for half a heartbeat, then he’s all in, arms locking around me, mouth devouring mine like I just gave him permission to go feral.

And god, maybe I did.

Though I can’t say I regret it with the way he’s kissing me right now.

I pegged this guy as the worst, but he’s the best at this.

Ares kisses like he’s intent on ruining me for all other men.

It’s slow at first, then deep and demanding, his tongue sweeping against mine in a rhythm that sends heat surging through my body at a fever pitch.