Sunday, 27 March 2016

New Release: Pup Needs a Suit (Puppyville Pack 8)

Blurb: Magnus Cornelius III, or Mags, is a new vampire in town and owner of the House of Dandy. He’s a glorified tailor who likes strutting around roughneck haven in sweltering suits. We clash and come from different worlds, but I need a suit. There’s a wedding I intend to wreck.

I’m Rocky, enforcer for the Puppyville Pack. Mags doesn’t scare easy, but I’m far from done. Things are about to get real messy, but my wolf has other ideas. Strange ones like mating Mags… what’s happening to me?

“Perhaps I need to take more accurate measurements. Can you step inside the dressing room?”

That makes me raise my brows. Are we playing a game now, vampire? But I keep my mouth shut.

“Professionals don’t make mistakes.” That makes his eye twitch, I notice. I can’t keep the grin off my face.

“A real professional knows it’s wise to avoid one.”

He walks to the entrance of his shop and I expect him to hold the door open and ask me to leave. To tell me he changed his mind, but he simply flips the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’.

Cunning leech, and I say that as a compliment.

“This way, please.” Mags walks past me and I follow, licking my lips at the sight of his sweet and tight ass in those well-fitting trousers. As if knowing what I’m looking at, Mags cranes his head to look at me. “Are you checking out my ass, you rude wolf?”

“A fine ass exists to be appreciated.”

My remark gets a laugh out of him, and fuck, that’s quite a laugh, seductive and able to pull strings inside me. Damn it, this vampire is turning out to be more interesting than I thought. He leads me to an empty dressing room, locking the door behind us.

“Why the need for privacy?”

“I might need to ask you to undress to get your exact measurements.”

Bullshit, but I like how direct Mags is being. Who knew a dirty and naughty little thing lay underneath this fa├žade?


I take off my shirt, and I swear, I hear his sharp intake of breath. I know vampires don’t need to breathe. They do it to mimic human actions to be less unnerving, but that was certainly a reflex reaction. Finally, someone who appreciates the amount of time I spend at the gym.

“My, my, you’re quite a specimen, aren’t you, wolf?” Mags unrolls his measuring tape again. I want to yank that thing from his hands and use it to tie him up.

“You’re not bad yourself, vampire.”

With trembling fingers, he reaches for me, and I don’t stop him from brushing his fingertips against my left pectoral. I wait patiently as he drags those slim fingers down my torso, seemingly fascinated by my abs. When he touches the light dusting of hair leading down my jeans, I clasp his fingers.

Again, he draws a shaky breath, doing wonders for my libido. I can’t remember the last time any man reacted this way around me and vice versa. It’s a nice change of pace. Fucking better than nice. Faint alarm bells ring in my head, reminding me what I’m doing is dangerous.

Mags isn’t like the men I take home for the night, and leave the next morning, while I think of Trig. Heck, I forget Trig exists when I’m around Mags. That should speak volumes, but I’ll pursue that line of thought later.

Much later, after I play out Mags’ little game.

“Aren’t you being a little forward?”

He watches me with those amazing eyes, widening when I tug away the measuring tape from his other hand. Mags might be a century old, or even older, but he’s certainly not acting like one. He doesn’t stop me from looping the tape around his wrists.

“If you want to see more of me, you have to earn it.”

Mags loops his bound hands around my neck, drawing both of us close and kisses me. I grip him hard, hands eager to explore every line of his lean body. Heat leaps from his mouth to mine. We grind our bodies against each other and I’m aware of his dick, still hidden away in his trousers.

I want him stripped, naked and all for me.

I want him. Period.

Grabbing a fistful of his blazer, he pulls away. “Don’t you dare.”

I dare. The cloth gave way, not easily I might add, and that’s saying something about the quality of his suits. The magenta and white fabric flutters to the floor as I pull the cloth away, until we’re standing, chest-to-chest, Mags’ arms still around my neck.

“You brute,” he whispers.

“Don’t play the victim card, vampire. You like me this way.”

“I do,” he admits with reluctance. “You’re unrefined and crude, but there’s something about you that I can’t resist.”

“Fucking good enough for me.” I look him in the eye. “You want my dick, vampire?”

He swallows, and then nods.

“I want to hear the words.”

Cheeks red, he mutters, “I want your cock. Please.”

“Good, but you’re not getting it yet.”