Leo is the calm guy. The nice guy. The one nobody screws with. So could someone explain that to Meena so she stops driving him insane—with desire.
When Meena literally throws herself at Leo and declares he’s her mate, his first reaction is to deny—and run far, far away. This lion/tiger mix doesn’t do drama and chaos. Problem is, once he sets eyes on her, he can’t help but want the vivacious blonde with plus-sized curves, perfect for a big man like himself.
He wants her even if it breaks all his rules when it comes to women.
Wants her even if she destroys his serenity.
Wants her more than a perfectly grilled piece of steak with a dash of garlic, pepper, and salt.
Thing is, someone else wants her too.
This poor omega is about to have his world turned upside down, which means everyone better watch out because when Leo experiences love, jealousy, and frustration for the first time, he doesn’t just snap—he roars!
Leo was just minding his own business when he heard someone shout, “Heads up! Or is that heads down?”
Either way it didn’t matter. Leo caught the Frisbee with his noggin, which, given he was in the lobby of the condo complex he lived in, didn’t impress him one bit.
Some might have acted on that irritation—gone after the Frisbee tosser and scalped her. Others would have engaged in an unladylike tussle. But as the Pride’s omega, he had a certain standard to adhere to. Leo let the irritation roll off his really wide—so wide the college football coach almost cried when he wouldn’t play—shoulders.
With a nonchalance and calm that Leo strove to teach others, he kept walking toward the elevator, which happened to be where the purple disc landed. He refrained from crushing it. No need to blame the disc just because its thrower had poor aim.
An unfamiliar scent—feline and delicious—surrounded and brushed past him as a woman skipped by, intent on the Frisbee. The blonde, whom he didn’t recognize, stooped over to grab the plastic disc, her cropped athletic shorts molding every curve of her made-for-gripping ass and nibble-worthy thighs.
Everything about her was big, bold, and luscious.
Yummy. And it wasn’t just his inner beast that thought so.
Who is this delicious handful? He didn’t recall meeting her, and he certainly wouldn’t have forgotten her.
The unknown woman straightened and faced him, and by face him, he meant almost eye to eye, which was unheard of given he boasted a height of almost seven feet. Yet this woman with the wicked curves must have stood at least six foot one or a touch more.
She wasn’t dainty, not by any stretch, not with the way her impressive breasts strained at her T-shirt, distorting the cartoon on it that said, Delicate Freakn’ Flower. Her indented waist was accented by the flare of her hips, the quirk of her lips matched by the mirth in her eyes.
While not a man to allow himself to indulge in strong emotion, Leo was suddenly possessed of a powerful urge to drag this woman into his arms and…do decadent things that would get even his steady heart racing.
“Well, hello there, big fellow. I don’t think we’ve met.”
Indeed they hadn’t, or he would have remembered her—and remembered to avoid her because anyone could see by the saucy tilt to her hips and the appraising look in her eye that she spelled trouble.
Leo didn’t do trouble. He preferred calm moments. Serene outings. Quiet evenings. Very quiet. A quiet she disrupted with her Frisbee antics, so he took her to task. “You’re not supposed to play Frisbee inside. It’s one of the association rules.” He’d know since he helped draft them.
Leo liked rules, and he expected people to follow them. When any group of predators lived in close proximity, keeping hot tempers under control was important, hence his job to enforce the edicts and keep the peace.
“Aw, come on. Are you telling me there’s no playing inside either?” Her plump lower lip jutted. “Do you know I got in trouble by a nice policeman for playing on the street? Which was totally unfair. As if it was my fault that guy wasn’t pay attention and rear ended someone at the red light.”
“You were playing in the road?”
“Road, sidewalk, does it really matter? What’s more important is, if I can’t play inside, and I can’t play outside, where is a girl supposed to play?”
Upstairs, eleventh floor, condo unit 1101. His bedroom had plenty of room. Of course the sport he pictured didn’t involve any props. Nor did it include any clothes. But telling her she could play with him naked probably wasn’t the answer she looked for. “We don’t play in the city. Not enough room. That’s what the ranch is for.”
“Ah, the farm. That place is still around? Awesome.”
“You know of it?” He frowned. While not a closely guarded secret, only those with permission were allowed on the property. Since Leo tended to curate that list, he tended to know anyone who visited. But he couldn’t place her. “Who are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”
“Yeah, it’s been a while since I visited. That’s what happens when a girl gets banned for a few years because of a few silly misunderstandings. Explode one carved pumpkin and people lose their minds. I see the lobby got repainted, no permanent harm done.”
Banned? Wait a second. He did know who this lady was. He’d heard Arik mention something about a cousin on his father’s side visiting for a bit. His words were actually, “Damned uncle asked me to let the brat come and hide out for a bit while some kind of calamity blows over in her hometown.”
To which Leo replied, “You know you can use the word ‘no’. I find it quite effective if I don’t want to get embroiled in unsavory situations.” The word no helped prevent a lot of unnecessary chaos.
Arik had laughed. “Say no to my uncle? Not happening. You haven’t met him yet. He’s the one guy I know who would make you look normal sized and when he’s not threatening to twist you into a pretzel, he’s the nicest guy you ever met. He’s also besieged by a set of troublemaking daughters.”
Both of whom had been banned by the previous pride alpha for causing too much damage and being a general nuisance.
While she had only recently arrived, Leo could already understand why the old king banished her. “You’re that troublemaker from out West, aren’t you?”
“Me, a troublemaker?” She fluttered her lashes. The problem was, with a mouth like hers, twisted into a smirk, she failed at the whole innocent look. “No, that’s my sister, Teena. I’m Meena, her twin, more commonly known as catastrophe. But you can call me your mate.”
With that, she flung herself on him and planted a big, juicy smooch on his lips.
And he liked it.
About the Author
Hello, my name is Eve and I am a Canadian author who loves to write hot romance, usually with werewolves, cyborgs or aliens.
I should warn you that I possess a twisted imagination and a sarcastic sense of humor something I like to let loose in my writing. I enjoy strong alpha males, and shifters. Lots of big, overprotective shifters. I am also extremely partial to aliens, the kind who like to abduct humans and then drive them insane...with pleasure. Do you like something a little darker? Then check out my cyborgs whose battle with humanity have captivated readers worldwide.
I love to write, and while I don't always know what my mind is going to come up with next, I can promise it will be fun, probably humorous and most of all romantic, because I love a happily ever after.
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