Chapter 8- Mr. Stranger

That it would take three shots to even feel the tiniest buzz was irritating at times. While she wanted to keep her wits about her, she also yearned for the blissfulness others seemed to have when they drank, like all their fears no longer made a difference, at least while the effects lasted. After the night she had, and the nerves twisting her belly into a knot at the thought of discovering who was on the other end of this bewildering draw, trying to reach that sort of peace was too irresistible to defy.

Faster than anyone could politely anticipate being served in a place this packed, the shots were placed in front of her, laid on a napkin with the man's number scrawled on it. Slamming them back one after the other, Pearl set the now-empty glasses back down, feigning she hadn't seen the writing.

Just as she began to turn away, the bartender laid a hand on Pearl's forearm, stopping her midmotion. Her heart skipped a beat, her body immediately beset with the conflicting demands to jerk away and lean closer.

She beat a look up at the bartender's face, afraid she was one of those people who had no immunity to the charisma Pearl seemed to radiate like magical perfume. Relaxing when instead of the besotted expression she'd feared, she found the woman's gaze bouncing from the empty glasses to Pearl's small frame, her expression worried.

Smiling politely, Pearl rubbed her stomach to signal she'd eaten, not that she had, but it did as she wanted. With a nod of her head, the bartender let her go and veered around to the next patron.

For any other woman of her size, taking three shots back to back would likely knock her on her ass.

For Pearl, it was hard enough to get a buzz, but it at least took the rim off the nerves firing through her.

Liquor, magical drugs, hell, even over-the-counter antidote just didn't seem to work well on her. Though she often lamented that when trying to drown the loneliness, it had come in handy on too many occasions to count when someone attempted to spike her drink or dose her with something.

Still, she knew better than to do anything that drew undeserved attention, and that included gulping shots like a harem chick on a bender.

The mental lecture she was giving herself gradually quieted as the feeling of being dragged heightened to become all-consuming.

Eyes wide, almost walking on tiptoe, Pearl scoured every face, looking for whoever it was calling her, as she let it lead her to a thankfully less-packed section of the dance floor.

Allowing the hard beat of the music to guide her, she began swaying, even as she watched the people around her, senses deepened, cautious for anyone paying her extraordinary amounts of attention.

Pearl felt more than a few men trying to creep up behind her, but they weren't who she was looking for, so she gracefully sidestepped their reaching hands or slipped into a gap between bodies to escape their crudely thrusting hips.

She may be touch-starved, but she wasn't hopeless enough to let some rough ass grind up against her.

Evading another over-eager warrior, she bit back a sigh and closed her eyes, concentrating on that inevitable sensation to point from which path the pull was coming.

There.

Opening her eyes, she surveyed the large room, her movements slowing as she searched for that weighted stare in the striking lights. In the overshadowed cavity past the dance floor, she found not one, but two sets of eyes watching her steadily.

Their gazes felt like caresses against her skin, tempting magnets shocking her with unfamiliar power.

None of the men Pearl had been in the past had ever given her butterflies or made her pulse race. They'd been nothing but a means to a necessary end, a drop of water in the desert that was her hunger for touch. But this… staring into those eyes had her heart thundering and her stomach aflutter with excitement and fascination.

It felt how she imagined others felt toward her—attracted, intrigued, captivated.

Something inside her awakened, blossoming like a flower opening in spring, filling her with a heady warmth that unfurled in the center of her chest and spread outward.

Pearl went still, a stone in the rushing river of heaving bodies around her, as the warmth filled her, suffusing every inch of her body until she could barely breathe past it.

Oh god, they feel… they feel like… me.

Choosing to trust that intuition and stop fighting the pull, she started to go to them. Before she'd managed a single step, she felt someone approaching from behind.

Someone who smelled like dark berries and felt like electricity…

Pearl could feel him behind her. Tingling warmth spread through her like a heated blanket on a cold winter's night as her body responded to his nearness. She wanted to curl up in that heat, and wanted to let it soothe her to sleep at night… wanted to let it mend the broken pieces of her heart.

The intoxicating scents of cedar, oakmoss, and dark winter berries reached her, teasing her senses with the memory of her dream.

How…

Pearl felt the touch coming and went perfectly still, anticipating, waiting for him to close the space between them.

Except he never did. Instead, a hand lightly skimmed down her arm, the heat of it radiating through the layers of fabric separating them. The light touch was a question, instead of a demand, an invitation for more, if she wanted it.

Pearl gasped, her lips parting and her lashes fluttered closed. In the sea of entitled men who thought it was their right to dance up against her, simply because she was there, his soft request had her entire body thrumming to life.

She made no effort to stop the sway of her body back into him, couldn't have even if she'd wanted to, and there wasn't a single part of her that wished to resist.

Sensing her acceptance, a massive, hard body warmed her back before pressing against her. Thickly muscled arms came around her, large hands settling on the curve of her hips in a light hold she could easily step out of.

Pearl shivered. She'd never experienced anything as arousing as the feel of this man against her. She felt dwarfed by him, the top of her head barely reaching his chest. And, yet, despite towering over her, it seemed as though they fit together perfectly.

Being so close to someone so much larger than she should've unnerved her, it should have put her on high alert, but all she wanted to do was sink into him. She wanted him to cradle her against him, to hold her in those big arms.

Slowly, seductively, the man started to dance, guiding her in an erotic rhythm that drove her senseless. He moved like water—sinuous and graceful. Surprising for someone so tall and broad.

What would he be like in bed?

The temptation to find out sparked to life, teasing her with images of his body above hers, goading her with fantasies of feeling him buried inside her. Oh god, she wanted an answer to that question almost more than she wanted her next breath.

Every brush of their bodies felt electric. This close, his mouthwatering scent was stronger, enfolding her in a drugging cloud from which

Every brush of their bodies felt electric. This close, his mouthwatering scent was stronger, enfolding her in a drugging cloud from which she never wanted to escape.

Pearl didn't open her eyes, too entranced by the spell this man wove around her. Never in her life had she been this turned on, nor could she remember a time she'd been this affected by anyone, or felt this… safe and powerful magic.

He exuded a primal sense of security, a unique brand of protectiveness all his own. She became untouchable within his arms. The rest of the world could fall apart, go up in flames, burn to nothing but ash, and she would still be held safely against him, completely unharmed.

It wasn't a feeling she was familiar with, but fuck was it addictive.

Their bodies swayed closer and closer until they were pressed together tightly, her head resting back against his chest, his hands now circling her waist, hips flush against her, letting her feel she wasn't the only one affected.

Pearl bit her lip when she realized he could feel the hard press of the daggers she had strapped to her lower back as surely as she could feel the hard press of his arousal.

Instead of recoiling or pulling away as most men would, he bent and purred in her ear, his chest rumbling like her Harley, "Mmm, beautiful and deadly."

Her breath hitched. His voice was deep, the bass notes rich and gravelly, shivering up her spine like distant thunder. She wanted to hear him speak again just to soak in the resonating sound once more.

Dancing with this man, who should feel like a stranger, yet didn't, was exhilarating, a breath of fresh air in lungs that had been starved for far too long. She was alive. She was thriving.

The desire to know his name, to see his face, to feel his magic became an aching need, but she refused to break the trance into which they'd fallen. Instead, Pearl kept her eyes tightly shut and immersed herself at the moment, knowing somewhere in the back of her mind it would need to last her for when she was inevitably alone again.

The song changed, becoming something dark and primal. Their bodies moved together faster, harder, following the beat.

He bent over her until his nose hovered a bare inch above the column of her neck, his beard just tickling her skin, and inhaled deeply. He exhaled a low, hungry groan. The longing in that sound hit her like a shot of whiskey, settling low in her stomach. Biting her lip, she set her hands over his forearms, feeling the corded muscle beneath his sleeves, and guided his grip to her hips as she arched her ass back into him.

"Alchemist, a powerful one. Hell, do you tempt," he growled in her ear, making her pulse race and her nipples pebble.

She wanted to do more than tempt. She wanted to take, so badly her need turned visceral, lashing through her with the force of a lightning strike until she was sure she'd burn up from the intensity.

The rhythmic press of her thighs brushing together as they danced teased and tormented, creating just enough pressure where she was slick and swollen to magnify the ache.

She knew, if she asked, he would give her what she so badly craved. There was no doubt he would know exactly how to touch her to release the desperate need building inside her.

Opening her eyes before she gave in, she found herself gazing directly into the fierce amber gaze of the golden-haired warrior. A lycan. He'd moved closer, staring at her and the man dancing like he was entranced. Strangely, just knowing he was watching, excited her. Looking for the dark stranger, she found him still studying her from the deeper shadows.

Pearl had the sudden sense they knew the man behind her. It was one of those deep, intuitive feelings she got that were rarely ever wrong.

Unable to resist the urge to see the one behind her any longer, but unwilling to turn and break eye contact with the devilish blonde, Pearl lifted her arms above her head. Sliding her fingertips up his chest, she felt soft cotton stretched tightly over hard muscle, then higher to the soft brush of a beard covering his sharp jawline.

Gaze moving from one sexy stranger to the next, she watched them as she followed higher still, outlining surprisingly full lips. The moment she touched his mouth, he stiffened, sucking in a hard breath she could feel against her fingers. She barely had time to wonder at his reaction before he opened for her, the movement both an invitation and a dare.

A hard thrill shot through her as she let just the tips of her fingers slide past his lips. Wet warmth and sharp teeth met her questing touch.

"Oh, god… " she gasped, thighs clenching.