Sam's Sunday Snippet

Bright City Lights – Book 1: City of Lights

Sometimes it's harder to be apart than it is to be together.

Rabb is an alpha shifter, a werewolf, who likes to defy both the odds and authority. He prefers the city lights over the open spaces most shifters enjoy.

Brant is a politician with a secret that's becoming harder and harder to contain. As mayor of Bright City, he's determined to keep the city free of shifters to protect his secret.

The two men share a fair amount of distrust, along with a smoldering history that threatens to drag them under again. But when shifters begin to die in Bright City, Rabb and Brant need to find a way to work together again. Especially when one of them inadvertently steps right into the murderer's deadly path.

~~*~~

“Is he gonna be a problem?”

Brant’s gaze clung to the door, a line of worry between his golden eyebrows. “Yes. I believe he is.”

“Does he know about you?”

Brant’s head whipped around, his bright gaze sliding over Rabb. “No. Nobody does.”

“Except me.” Rabb stepped closer, his body heating as he watched Brant’s tongue slip out to skim across his lips. “I know all about you, don’t I?”

Brant didn’t move. His chest rose and fell in panicked breaths but he didn’t retreat. Rabb respected that. He stopped in front of the mayor and leaned close, his nostrils flaring to take him in. “You haven’t changed a bit in all these years, fang.”

“Don’t call me that.” Brant’s voice was breathless, his hands coming up to rest against Rabb’s chest as if he would push him away. “Don’t ever—” Rabb leaned in, settled his lips on Brant’s skin, over the pulse zone in his pale throat that perfumed the air with his delicious scent. “Don’t call me that.” He finished on a gasp as Rabb’s tongue came out, licking across the vein throbbing there.

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t tell anyone what you are. It’s none of their business.” Rabb’s hand encompassed the front of Brant’s throat, holding him in place as he lowered his lips. The smaller man vibrated beneath his touch, his lean body rigid with expectation. His eyes found Rabb’s and the heat shining within them made Rabb suck in a breath.

Brant held his gaze for a moment, his need shining bright between them, a beacon that made Rabb’s wolf claw to get out. It wanted to play, to taste, to fuck with wild abandon. His slacks were suddenly too constrictive. The tie he wore choked, too much like a collar for his comfort. His head lowered. His lips tingled with anticipation.

Brant pushed on his chest. He made a small sound that sounded like the cry of a trapped and dying animal. And Rabb couldn’t press him. He stepped away, giving Brant’s pale face a last, gentle touch before turning toward the door. Rabb stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “I’ll do what I can to keep this quiet, fang.”

Brant swallowed hard and nodded. “Thanks.” The single word ground from his chest, sounding as if it had had to fight its way through a constricted throat.

Rabb smiled. “I guess I still have a soft spot for you, Brant. I thought I’d managed to kill it years ago.”

The other man didn’t say anything. His hands gripped the edge of his desk so hard the knuckles were white.

Rabb opened the door. “I’ll go get settled in my office.”

DS

Brant waited until the door closed behind Rabb and then closed his eyes, lifting his shaking hands to slip through his hair. He’d been so sure Rabb was going to kiss him. He’d braced himself for it and worse—he’d wanted it, badly. He didn’t know how he was going to survive working alongside the big shifter day after day. He’d surely combust with need—multiple levels of it.

His body already thrummed with awareness. His gut felt empty. Painfully empty. He needed to do something to distract himself. Brant grabbed his suit coat and started toward the door. Physical exercise would help him cope. It always had in the past.

But that was before he’d laid eyes on Rabb again. In the past it had been the memory of the big shifter that he’d been running from when he drove himself to exhaustion. That had been difficult enough.

Now he had the living, breathing, incredibly delicious real thing to deal with.

There was no way he could survive this again. No way in hell.

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