to stumble into
the speaker. Firm arms wrapped around him, surrounding
him in a comforting embrace. He had the oddest sensation
of coming home.
"Hello, honey." Ben's quick glance up gave him an
impression of laughing hazel eyes and a wide white smile
before warm lips descended and kissed him to within an
inch of his life. Heat burned through his body. Whimpering
he moved closer to the other man, rubbing his erection
against the newcomer. The man called Thomas, felt long,
hard, and perfect against him. The smell of wet dew on a
grassy meadow filled his senses. He fought back the urge to
howl at the rightness of his scent.
His.
The stranger pulled back. Ben snarled, his gums
burning as his teeth elongated in preparation to bite. His
wolf wanted to mark the other man so everyone could see.
How dare he pull away, the man was his! He battled his
instincts to take the larger man down like a lame deer. To
bite him, fuck him, and make sure everyone knew he was
claimed. Startled by the violence of his thoughts, Ben
stepped back.
"I guess he is yours," Ned said behind him. "You
better keep an eye on him before some mate hunter steals
10
Baiting Ben
Amber Kell
him away." The words trailed off as Ned walked back into
the crowd, quickly swallowed by the crowd of dancing
people.
Trying to subdue his oddly aggressive wolf, Ben
gave his head a little shake. As one of the least alpha
members of the pack, he was surprised at this sudden
compulsion to claim the other man. Hope burst through him
as he wondered if maybe he'd found what he was looking
for after all.
A small part of him protested that this man wasn't
Dillon. Ben ruthlessly suppressed it and turned his attention
on the tall, dark man who looked like a model from a
glossy magazine. The kind you had to read with one hand.
* * * *
Thomas looked down at the pretty red-haired wolf
and almost came right then. Gold eyes, an aquiline nose,
and lips so lush they would make a straight man dream of
fucking men. He'd seen prettier men, his alpha had the most
beautiful man on the planet for his partner, but he'd never
met one so compelling.
Mate .
The word whispered across his mind, a message
from his inner wolf. Everything fell into place, the smell,
11
Baiting Ben
Amber Kell
the looks, and the incredible kiss. There was no doubt in his
mind that the little wolf beside him was his mate.
"My name's Benjamin," the pretty man said,
holding out his hand.
"Thomas Moon." He waited for the younger man to
claim his affiliation. In werekin culture your last name
indicated the pack you belonged to. When Benjamin didn't
answer he decided subtlety was wasted on his mate.
"Where's your pack?"
A chill came into Ben's gold eyes. The smaller
werewolf backed away until there was an uncomfortable
foot of space between them. Thomas resisted the urge to
grab Benjamin and drag him back into his arms where he
belonged.
"I left my pack. I have lone wolf status."
Fear trickled up Thomas's spine like a winter chill.
Lone wolves were dangerous. Most of them went solo
because there was something wrong with their psyche that
prevented them from traveling in a pack. Other times it was
because the pack found something wrong with the
werewolf and banished him. There was rarely a good
reason a wolf chose to travel alone. Looking around
Thomas realized they couldn't address something this
important in a crowded club. They needed privacy.
"Come with me."
12
Baiting Ben
Amber Kell
A wary look came into Ben's eyes. Smart man. "I
just want to talk. I'll even leave the door unlocked so you
can go whenever you want to," he promised. He didn't want
to scare the man off, but he really wanted to talk to him in a
quieter area.
After a long moment his mate nodded. "All right."
* * * *
Ben followed the handsome werewolf up a small
flight of stairs. It was odd to see a pack in an urban
environment. Growing up in the wilds of Alaska didn't
prepare
the speaker. Firm arms wrapped around him, surrounding
him in a comforting embrace. He had the oddest sensation
of coming home.
"Hello, honey." Ben's quick glance up gave him an
impression of laughing hazel eyes and a wide white smile
before warm lips descended and kissed him to within an
inch of his life. Heat burned through his body. Whimpering
he moved closer to the other man, rubbing his erection
against the newcomer. The man called Thomas, felt long,
hard, and perfect against him. The smell of wet dew on a
grassy meadow filled his senses. He fought back the urge to
howl at the rightness of his scent.
His.
The stranger pulled back. Ben snarled, his gums
burning as his teeth elongated in preparation to bite. His
wolf wanted to mark the other man so everyone could see.
How dare he pull away, the man was his! He battled his
instincts to take the larger man down like a lame deer. To
bite him, fuck him, and make sure everyone knew he was
claimed. Startled by the violence of his thoughts, Ben
stepped back.
"I guess he is yours," Ned said behind him. "You
better keep an eye on him before some mate hunter steals
10
Baiting Ben
Amber Kell
him away." The words trailed off as Ned walked back into
the crowd, quickly swallowed by the crowd of dancing
people.
Trying to subdue his oddly aggressive wolf, Ben
gave his head a little shake. As one of the least alpha
members of the pack, he was surprised at this sudden
compulsion to claim the other man. Hope burst through him
as he wondered if maybe he'd found what he was looking
for after all.
A small part of him protested that this man wasn't
Dillon. Ben ruthlessly suppressed it and turned his attention
on the tall, dark man who looked like a model from a
glossy magazine. The kind you had to read with one hand.
* * * *
Thomas looked down at the pretty red-haired wolf
and almost came right then. Gold eyes, an aquiline nose,
and lips so lush they would make a straight man dream of
fucking men. He'd seen prettier men, his alpha had the most
beautiful man on the planet for his partner, but he'd never
met one so compelling.
Mate .
The word whispered across his mind, a message
from his inner wolf. Everything fell into place, the smell,
11
Baiting Ben
Amber Kell
the looks, and the incredible kiss. There was no doubt in his
mind that the little wolf beside him was his mate.
"My name's Benjamin," the pretty man said,
holding out his hand.
"Thomas Moon." He waited for the younger man to
claim his affiliation. In werekin culture your last name
indicated the pack you belonged to. When Benjamin didn't
answer he decided subtlety was wasted on his mate.
"Where's your pack?"
A chill came into Ben's gold eyes. The smaller
werewolf backed away until there was an uncomfortable
foot of space between them. Thomas resisted the urge to
grab Benjamin and drag him back into his arms where he
belonged.
"I left my pack. I have lone wolf status."
Fear trickled up Thomas's spine like a winter chill.
Lone wolves were dangerous. Most of them went solo
because there was something wrong with their psyche that
prevented them from traveling in a pack. Other times it was
because the pack found something wrong with the
werewolf and banished him. There was rarely a good
reason a wolf chose to travel alone. Looking around
Thomas realized they couldn't address something this
important in a crowded club. They needed privacy.
"Come with me."
12
Baiting Ben
Amber Kell
A wary look came into Ben's eyes. Smart man. "I
just want to talk. I'll even leave the door unlocked so you
can go whenever you want to," he promised. He didn't want
to scare the man off, but he really wanted to talk to him in a
quieter area.
After a long moment his mate nodded. "All right."
* * * *
Ben followed the handsome werewolf up a small
flight of stairs. It was odd to see a pack in an urban
environment. Growing up in the wilds of Alaska didn't
prepare
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