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Dakota

E yeliner actually looked... pretty good on me.

At least, I thought it did. I’d watched a hundred video tutorials before trying it, and it seemed to look just like them.

The giggling outside my bedroom snatched my attention, and I ended up with a jagged line on the second eye, making me sigh and wipe it off to start again.

I’d just finished when there was a knock on my bedroom door.

“Not dressed,” I called to keep Donnie from barging in and seeing me trying to put on eyeliner. Not to mention the ridiculously tight black skinny jeans and tank that showed off the definition of my arms and chest.

I’d been working hard at the gym for that muscle, so I thought I deserved to show it off.

“We’re heading out,” he called through the door. “Don’t wait up. Good luck with the first day tomorrow. Get to bed nice and early!”

There was another giggle, no doubt his already-pregaming friends amused that a person would choose to go to bed early and have a job, rather than go clubbing and get laid. Frankly, I had no idea how any of them afforded living in San Francisco without jobs. It was a ridiculously expensive city to live in, and they weren’t all independently wealthy. Donnie certainly wasn’t. His parents lived in a trailer in Bakersfield, and I didn’t think he’d replaced his job yet, after getting fired from his waitstaff position last month.

But he’d paid his half of the rent, and he didn’t seem worried, so I wasn’t going to worry for him.

“Thanks,” I answered. “Have a fun time.”

“We will,” he singsonged as he headed for the door.

I waited.

Well, no, I checked and perfected my eyeliner, then my outfit, and then I grabbed my boots, pulling them on and lacing them up, listening as Donnie and his friends cleared out of the apartment, down the hall.

The distant ding of the elevator indicated they were truly gone.

I waited another ten minutes in my room.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like Donnie. He was my best friend. We’d met in college, and he’d changed my life. Taught me to take things a little less seriously, stop thinking my perfect GPA was going to do anything for me after I graduated college, and start living just a little bit.

The problem was that Donnie was a butterfly. He was beautiful and... flighty. Every time we went out to a club together, every man we met hit on him. On the unusual occasion someone actually showed interest in me, for some reason, Donnie’s carefree attitude about grades and school disappeared. Every time I’d gotten even close to a guy, he’d managed to chase him off.

This one wasn’t hot enough, and that one wasn’t smart enough, and the other one “looked poor.” I’d pointed out that I didn’t care about any of that and just wanted to get laid, but he’d been adamant. I shouldn’t settle, especially not for my first time.

So when he’d said he and his friends were going out tonight and invited me to go with them as a sort of celebration for my brand-new job starting tomorrow, I’d told them that I planned to go to bed early so I wouldn’t be tired on my first day.

Which was precisely what I should be doing.

I should go to bed early, so I’d be bright-eyed and ready for anything on my first day of work. It was an amazing job that one of my professors had helped me to get, a company looking for something like a Japanese translator and interpreter. It wasn’t precisely what I’d studied for—I didn’t have a background in interpreting at all—but I’d double-majored in Japanese and communication, so I could totally do this. After all, they needed more than an interpreter, or they’d have just contacted an interpreting agency. They needed a go-between who knew about the culture and the language, to help them navigate a merger with a Japanese company. It was a huge job, and a massive score for me, since I’d literally graduated college last month.

That, I’d told Donnie, was why I’d worked hard to keep my GPA high. My professors had been invested in me, so when one had heard about the job opening, she’d thought of me.

So yeah, I should be going to bed.

But I had a year-long contract that was going to eat up my whole life starting tomorrow, and right now I was a twenty-two-year-old virgin. I was fucking sick of that.

Since I could never attract and keep a man’s attention with Donnie there, I’d decided I needed to take drastic measures.

I needed to pick a night Donnie was going out, wait for him to go, and then go myself, separately. I had even searched for gay bars in town that Donnie didn’t go to, which had been an undertaking in itself, because Donnie lived for clubbing.

I’d managed, though, finding a place I’d never even heard of before, Howl. I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one that I’d never heard of them, but their website had been great, with pictures of the club and dance floor that made it look head and shoulders over most of the places I’d been with Donnie and his friends. They even had a great menu, including steaks and burgers, which wasn’t the norm for places Donnie took me.

They had this whole wolf schtick going on that was a little funny, like silly drink names, “private rooms designated for pack alphas” and stuff like that, but it fit the name, and it wasn’t the strangest thing I’d ever seen in a business. Donnie favored this little coffee house that liked to pretend they were a fairy garden, and their single gender-neutral bathroom had a picture of a person with wings on it instead of the usual silly dress-or-pants-wearing stick figures.

So as soon as I was certain Donnie and his friends were gone for the night and hadn’t forgotten anything, I turned out the lights to make it look like I was asleep, locked my room before closing the door—it was one of those ones you could open on the outside with a screwdriver or a butterknife, but it should be enough to convince Donnie I was still there—and headed for the street.

The place was only a few miles away, but I’d ordered an Uber anyway, just to leave a trail in case anything happened to me. The guy wasn’t too interested in me, but he squinted at the front of the club as he pulled up. “This place new? I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me to take them here before.”

“Maybe,” I answered with a shrug, sliding out of the car even as I hit the button to tip him generously. Again, to lay a trail, just in case something happened to me. He’d remember me for sure if I disappeared and anyone asked about the weird kid he’d taken to the club he’d never seen before.

Maybe that was why Donnie had never taken me there. My stomach plummeted at the thought that maybe I’d walk in and there they’d be, checking out the new place, completely ruining my whole plan. Donnie would be annoyed I’d lied to him, and I still wouldn’t get laid because perfect Donnie would continue to get the attention of all the hot men in the damn place.

Only one way to find out. I straightened, drawing myself up to my full height and marching toward the door.

There wasn’t a line to get in, but there was a velvet rope, as though they had nights when there was a line. The bouncer at the door gave me a dubious look, but he only glanced at my ID when I held it up, and motioned me toward the door. It was weird; he watched me way closer as I walked toward the huge black door than he’d looked at my ID. Like he expected me to suddenly change my mind, or maybe for someone from inside to come shove me back and tell me I didn’t belong.

Hell, I wondered if maybe... maybe I didn’t? Maybe I wasn’t the kind of clientele they wanted. Maybe weird Japanese virgins wearing eyeliner weren’t their thing.

But no one shoved me out. There was no one in the entryway at all, and I just... stepped inside. It was a little odd, like there was a big fan over the door, because there was the feeling of pressure as I walked through and my ears popped as I crossed the threshold. I looked back at the bouncer. His eyebrows were high on his forehead, mouth pursed in something that looked like surprise. He gave a shrug, said “have a good night,” and turned back to his job watching for people coming in.

Weird.

Inside, the club was... well, it was almost exactly like every other club I’d ever been in, except for one thing. I walked in the door, and a guy nearby turned and looked at me. Then he stopped and looked at me again. Slowly. Lasciviously.

My whole body tingled at the feeling of it. The sheer fucking power of having someone actually be attracted to me.

Yeah, going out without Donnie had been a good idea.

The guy standing next to him elbowed him in the ribs and leaned in to whisper something in his ear, then dragged him away. He paused long enough to smile at me and mouth out “sorry,” before they disappeared into the crowd. Too bad. They’d both been pretty cute. I’d have taken either.

Come to think of it, as I looked out at the crowd of bodies writhing on the dance floor, the guys milling around, the ones sitting at the bar... hell, even the bartender was hot. It was like I’d accidentally stumbled onto a movie set. The dancers were doing improbably athletic things—those that weren’t practically fucking each other there on the dance floor. Everyone was immaculate, wearing club clothes that would have made Donnie jealous of the designer labels.

I felt a little... small and underdressed.

I was a foot shorter than most of them, which I was used to on some level—at not quite five and a half feet tall, I was never going to be that giant underwear model guy, but I’d always been okay with that. Sometimes it was useful to be short. I never banged my head on things. I could pull off “twink,” and that was all I needed, right? Not that I really knew what a twink was, other than people called me that sometimes when I was out with Donnie.

The people around me were wearing things I recognized from Donnie and his friends as expensive and designer, while my clothes were from the big blue superstore, but no one seemed to be sneering at my fashion choices.

In fact, every time I turned to look in a new direction, there was a guy checking me out.

Me.

Dakota Morris, shy little virginal college graduate.

My heart thumped in time with the music, and I wondered if maybe I was dreaming. This couldn’t be real. Maybe I’d accidentally stumbled into a mobster club and they knew I didn’t belong, so they were staring in shock that I was ignorant enough to come inside at all.

I slid up to the bar, breathing hard and fast even though I hadn’t set foot on the dance floor yet, and that was where my heart almost stopped.

What had I just been thinking about underwear models?

This guy...

Guy wasn’t even the right word. Adonis, maybe. He was exquisite. Not like a model I was seeing in real life, but like the ad itself. His hair was messy in that way where you knew every strand was exactly where he wanted it, and he had just enough scruff to look sexy but not unkempt. The suit he wore had to be worth more than every single thing I owned, the jacket falling open elegantly as he turned on his stool to face me, looking like that moment in an ad when the actor turned to give you that look. The superior one that said, “If you don’t buy this product, you’ll never be as cool as me.”

I had news for him, I’d never be that cool no matter what I bought.

His jawline was so sharp it could cut glass, his cheekbones high and chiseled and just... just looking at him made me want to fall into his lap. When he stopped his turn and looked me over, I was afraid my underwear were going to melt. His deep brown gaze was intense as he took me apart with his eyes, that look almost a physical thing as it slid down to my toes, then back up, lingering here and there as he went. When he got back up to my eyes, he smiled, showing two perfect gleaming white rows of teeth.

It was odd, but somehow they were less toothpaste ad and more... more my heart started thumping harder, because it felt like we were in the presence of a predator, and he was going to fucking lean over and bite me.

I didn’t even think I would object.

“What brings a nice boy like you to a place like Howl?” he asked, and his voice was just as smooth and perfect as the rest of him.

Now, I knew this trap. The minute you denied being a boy, it proved that you were, in fact, too damned young. So I just lifted a brow at him. “What does it look like I’m doing here?”

His grin sharpened and he leaned forward, taking a deep breath, almost like... almost like he was sniffing me. “You look... like you’re on the prowl. Hunting for something in particular?”

I pulled myself up onto the stool next to his, smiling at him and hoping I looked smooth and sexy, rather than awkward as fuck. “Yeah. And I think maybe I’ve found it.”

He leaned in, pressing two fingers to the bottom of my chin and tilting my face up toward his. I could almost feel his warm breath, we were so close.

Behind me, someone sighed and muttered something that sounded like “should have known.”

The man’s electric gaze drifted to a spot behind me, and for just a second, the lights from the dance floor were reflected in them, making it look like his eyes flashed bright red. “Yes,” he said. “You should have.” Then he turned back to me with that same predatory smile that made my stomach flip with both lust and terror. “Do you want a drink, or do you want to come home with me?”

I gave an unintentional little whine in the back of my throat and leaned closer. Was this what it felt like to be Donnie? To have all the men want you? I could so get used to this. Still, I was going to try not to act as desperate as I definitely was. “What, I’m not worth both?”

He made a sound almost like a growl and flicked his hand at the bartender, who appeared instantly next to us, as though by magic. “What can I get you, sir?”

He didn’t take his eyes off me even for a second. He lifted a brow. “Whatever my new friend...”

“Dakota.”

“Whatever Dakota wants.”

I tried to look at the bartender, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t tear my eyes off this man, and I didn’t even know his name. I did, however, realize that I didn’t know a damned thing about drinks. I’d always just had the same thing Donnie or his friends were ordering, and a cosmopolitan was not going to impress this man. My brain ran back through the drink menu they’d listed online, with the quirky little wolfish names. I didn’t remember what was in any of them, but I at least remembered the names.

“How about a dark and knotty?” I asked. It felt like a play on words with naughty, though I wasn’t entirely sure how it related to wolves, but it sounded at least a little sexy, and not like something a kid would order.

Behind me, there was a loud wolf whistle, and the fucking gorgeous man in front of me seemed pleased with the suggestion. Once more, his eyes flashed red in the lights reflected from the dance floor. “I think we can oblige that. A drink, a dance, and then?—”

“Then your place,” I said, trying to inject the words with confidence I didn’t quite feel. “Though I should probably ask your name first.”

Another smile flashed his gleaming teeth. “Jax.”

The bartender set a glass in front of me that looked rather like a mug of dark beer, and while I’d never been a huge fan of any beer, I took a drink and found myself pleasantly surprised. Was that ginger? Not bad at all.

“Well then, Jax,” I said, turning to him with my drink. “It sounds like we have a plan.”