Classy Bitch (Last Call Europe 6)

His voice boomed through the clearing where he stood, surrounded by two dozen of the greatest warriors gathered from among the top werewolf packs in the country. Yet instead of awe and admiration, he saw nothing but envy and hostility in their eyes. Every warrior there had dreamed of being the one to bring down the jaculus, but Vito had robbed them of the opportunity for that particular glory.

Well, to hell with them and their resentful scrutiny. He wasn't here to make friends. He'd been summoned because the fine people of Lanchester, Maine, had a problem they couldn't solve. The jaculus had been terrorizing humans and werewolves alike, running unchecked for the better part of a month. They'd needed someone skilled in the art of fighting savage monsters, someone with a proven track record, someone who wielded a variety of weapons with brute strength and elegance. They'd needed him.

Vito tossed the creature's head to the ground. It rolled, leaving a slick puddle of purple blood in its wake, and landed at the feet of the man who'd summoned the warriors to the rescue. The Alpha of the Dorai pack eyed the prize, then nodded once, curtly.

"We thank the great Synai pack for sending a fighter capable of ridding us of this evil. Your reward, warrior."

He stepped aside, making room for four women to step through the gap in the crowd. Overhead, the forest canopy swayed and rustled. The battle had taken the better part of the night, and now the sun rose in orange hues through the trees, sending the women's long, curvaceous shadows swishing across the grass.

"My daughters are yours to do with as you please. They will see to your every need for as long as you wish to stay among us."

Ah, now this was more like it! Vito gave a hoot of laughter and swept two of the women into his arms. His cock responded instantly with a jolt of excitement that surged through his bloodstream, mingling with the adrenaline already there.

He planted a kiss on the luscious lips of the nearest woman. "I accept your generous gifts."

The sisters giggled as one and rubbed up against him. If the air in the clearing had been dark with hatred before, now it practically churned with the rancor and bitterness of those assembled.

Vito's hand went to the fastening of his jeans. He'd show them why a Synai warrior was the only one who could claim the spoils of this battle. He had enough stamina to satisfy all four women, and then take on the rest of the pack's females. It would be a tough job, but someone had to do it.

One of the Dorai Alpha's daughters covered Vito's hand with hers while she knelt before him. She undid his zipper and gasped in appreciation as his cock sprang free.

Damn, but he loved his life. There was nothing like roaming the world looking for the next fight, the next fuck -- not having to answer to anyone about what he did or didn't do. No commitments, no promises, no expectations. Just freedom, violence, and as much pleasure as his mighty cock could handle.

A hot mouth closed around the tip of his dick. He groaned, and so did the other men in the clearing. The rustle of clothes followed. No doubt the warriors had themselves in hand by now, staring wide-eyed and short of breath at the erotic display before them. If they couldn't be him, at least they could live vicariously through him.

"A message for the Synai warrior! A message!"

Vito's eyes snapped open just in time to see a short, slight-of-build man elbow his way through the crowd. He sighed and pulled away from the eager mouth that held him tightly in its moist grip. Cool morning air streamed over his heated shaft, sending a shiver through him.

"What is it?" he snapped at the messenger. "Can't it wait?"

"No, sir, I'm afraid it can't." The man lowered his voice and leaned in close enough so the others couldn't hear. "It's from your father."

The shiver turned into icy fingers of apprehension. Leave it to the old man to know exactly where he'd be at any given moment, even when he was half a world away. Still, Vito recognized where his loyalty lay. He owed his father his allegiance. He could postpone his well-earned reward for a few minutes to hear what his father had to say.

The messenger pulled a yellow envelope from his coat pocket. Vito grabbed it and turned it over, leaving fingerprints of purple blood across its pristine surface. The envelope tore beneath his hands, and he pulled out a sheet of crisp, unlined paper.

On the paper, Vito's father had scrawled six words. Vito read them, failed to comprehend them, and read them again. That's when the eager lust that had been swirling through his system dissolved in a pool of acid that gurgled in his gut.

Come home, the catastrophic note said. You're to be married.