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Baiting Ben
Baiting Ben
Baiting Ben
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Baiting Ben

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Re-release of the same title, if you have the previous version please keep your money.

After leaving his old pack in Alaska, Benjamin is looking for a man to call his own. His Alaskan pack hadn't known what to do with a gay half wolf. The one man he'd hoped to bond with was missing on mate night which told Ben more than words that he needed to move on.

Unfortunately, just as he finds Thomas, his old love hunts Ben down to claim him. What is Ben going to do when two gorgeous werewolves both want him for their mate? Can he teach two alphas that sometimes it's more fun to share? Or will Ben be forced to choose between a new love or an old flame?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherAmber Kell
Release dateJun 12, 2013
ISBN9781301282494
Baiting Ben
Author

Amber Kell

Amber Kell is a dreamer who has been writing stories in her head for as long as she could remember.She lives in Seattle with her husband, two sons, three cats and one very stupid dog. To learn more about her current books or works in progress, check out her blog at http://amberkell.wordpress.com.Her fans can also reach her at amberkellwrites@gmail.com.

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    Book preview

    Baiting Ben - Amber Kell

    Chapter 1

    Benjamin Sallen entered the club with wide eyes and a hopeful heart. It was a toss-up what was more fascinating: the flashing lights, the flow of dancing bodies writhing half naked across the floor, or the scantily clad waiters sashaying around with trays of food. After filling out innumerable forms to validate his werekin status, he was finally allowed through the club doors .

    His enhanced werewolf senses absorbed the smells of sweat, lust, and sex. Never had he gotten so hard so fast, but the pheromones filling the room would make anyone want to have sex. Ben had come to find a mate, but at that moment, he would take hot, sweaty sex with a total stranger if it would take the edge off. As it was, his dick was trying to burst through the zipper of his favorite jeans. He wondered if this was the type of club that had a room in the back for the convenience of its members.

    Ben jumped back as a wereleopard slammed his partner against the wall and started dry humping him. Maybe they didn’t need a private area. Shaking his head, he walked across the dance floor, toward the bar. His throat was dry, and he didn’t have to work tomorrow. His job as an independent CPA let him set his own hours and prevented him from having to answer embarrassing questions about why he couldn’t work on days close to a full moon.

    After months of settling into his new environment and living without a pack, he yearned for the touch of another werekin. Even the brief brush of flesh from the shifters on the dance floor helped soothe the lonely animal beneath his skin. Despite leaving his Alaskan pack only six months ago, he was desperate for the company of others like him. Hunting under a full moon wasn’t the same without a pack—it lacked the joyous lust, and the prey he could catch was more of the rabbit variety than full-grown deer.

    Purchasing the club membership was his chance at a new life. If he met and mated with a local werekin, he could gain acceptance into the pack. Even if he hooked up with another lone wolf, at least they could become a pack of two. In werekin culture, anything was better than one. Lone creatures didn’t survive long in the big bad world, especially small wolves. At five feet nine inches, Ben was on the short side for a wolf shifter. He blamed that on his human mother. If he were full-blooded, he would easily have topped six feet. At least he could shift. He’d heard of half-blooded werekin who were unable to shift but still felt the call of the moon. Ben decided they must be in a special type of hell, one he was lucky enough not to be a part of.

    Using his smaller size to slip through the crowds, Ben made his way to the long wooden bar covering most of the back wall. The bartender moved with fluidity that screamed cat shifter.

    What can I get you? The bartender batted his long sable lashes over a pair of piercing sea green eyes. Besides me.

    Ben chuckled. A rum and Coke, please.

    Oooh, a polite one. The bartender’s hands moved so fast the motion blurred. In seconds, he was presenting Ben’s drink with a flourish and a flirty wink. Anything else?

    After giving the cute shifter a tip in the glass jar beside him, Ben flashed a grin of his own. Not right now, but I’ll let you know if that changes.

    It wouldn’t. He was looking for one of his own kind. In his wilder days, the bartender would’ve been a prime hookup, but he was looking for something more permanent. Ben wanted a mate. He wouldn’t get it where he came from. At the Great Claiming, none of the werekin had stepped forward to choose him. Maybe if Dillon had been home, things would’ve been different.

    Maybe.

    An image of a tall, dark werewolf with forest green eyes flashed in his mind. Ben ruthlessly pushed it away along with his feelings of longing. It had hurt to leave the pack knowing he’d never see the handsome man again, but Dillon was part of his past and tonight was about securing his future.

    Hello there, cute stuff, a rough voice spoke from behind him. He turned to see a huge man with cold black eyes looking him over like Ben was a prime piece of meat he wanted to devour.

    Um. Hi. He gave a polite smile and shifted a bit to the side to look around the other man. A sniff proved the guy was werekin, but not one with any mate potential. He didn’t give off the right scent.

    To Ben’s shock, the man settled a heavy arm around him. What do you say you and I get to know each other better? I’m Ned, what’s your name? It was more a statement than a question, as the other man was already lifting him off his barstool and guiding him toward the exit.

    B-Ben. Panic rabbited in his chest. Great, his first time in the club and already he was in trouble. Why did things like this always happen to him? All he wanted to do was meet the werewolf of

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