| Excerpt
Montgomery
Family 1:
Acting Like
Family
by J.J. Massa
Chapter One
September 17
Four
Seasons Hotel
Chicago,
Illinois
As soon as the werewolf walked through the door, her scent hit him. Not
another one! They never stopped trying, did they? There was a woman in
his hotel suite—a human woman. There was something familiar about
her scent but not quite so familiar that he recognized it. She smelled
good though.
Riker Montgomery trudged through the
suite to his bedroom. He was exhausted. Filming on this new
action-adventure movie was never-ending. Even with his lupine strength
and stamina, he was worn out. He only hoped that the little
fame-groupie, who had found her way into his room, hadn’t found her way
into his bed. Ever since his movies had become popular, women kept
turning up in his bed, his shower, all over the place.
Entering his bedroom, Riker did find
a body-shaped lump in the center of his mattress. Prepared to evict yet
another nubile young female, he sat down on the edge of the bed. Eyes
narrowed and jaw squared, he leaned over her. When he did, a few things
occurred to him.
First, he became aware that the
young lady had pulled his thick bathrobe over her quaking little form.
Since he had such a high metabolism, Riker didn’t use blankets. As a
lupine, his body emitted enough heat that he became uncomfortable if he
slept under blankets. He’d instructed the hotel staff to take away the
extraneous bedding. They thought it was just another movie star quirk.
The second thing Riker noticed about
the young lady, after he pulled back the robe, was that she was wearing
a knee-length, button-up sleep shirt. It was emblazoned with the
caption, How About A Slow Comfortable Screw? and had a picture of
a mixed drink on the lower right panel. Thick, colorful, knee-length
socks completed her ensemble.
He chuckled at the absurdity of it. He wondered who this woman could be.
He’d figure out that part in the morning. She was evidently not bent
upon seduction, as most women didn’t wear socks when they planned a
seduction. Apparently, it was an unwritten rule.
Damn, she smells good. He decided not to wake her. Her body was
quaking from the cold since he’d removed the heavy terry cloth robe.
Riker wrapped himself around his uninvited guest and went to sleep.
He woke when she began to shift
restlessly, almost as if she couldn’t get comfortable. At one point, she
threw an arm over her face, whimpering piteously. He’d thought to roll
over and go back to sleep, letting her dream take its course, but he
couldn’t stand the idea of this strange and beautiful woman trapped in
an unpleasant place, even if it was a dream
“Wake up, baby!” Riker shook her. He’d thought the woman with the
wonderful scent had been part of a dream. Except here she was, in his
bed, in his arms, and having a nightmare.
“Baby, c’mon! Wake up!” He gave her
a harder shake.
She woke, but her fear smelled
stronger awake than it had been when she’d been dreaming.
“What? Who? Who the heck are you?
What’re you doing in my bed? Where’s your clothes?” The last question
came on a high note when she realized he was naked from the waist up. He
was sure she could tell that only a thin, short barrier of cotton kept
her from being underneath a naked man.
His lips twitched as he surveyed the
scene objectively. Here she was, half out of her Slow Comfortable
Screw nightshirt and pinned under a mostly-nude stranger. He started
to smile and reached to cup her face. That’s when the photoflash went
off. It seemed that the press had arrived.
Riker roared and launched himself toward the flash. The interloper
wisely fled the balcony.
He jerked the curtains closed and stalked back to the bed, flopping down
in disgust. His little guest was looking at him nervously, obviously
trying to decide what to do. Had she come here knowing who he was? He
didn’t think so.
She stared at him and he sized her up. It didn’t take long since she
wasn’t that big. She was about five feet, five inches tall. Her hair was
a wavy dark blond with light streaks through it. She had large eyes that
were a dark, forest green. Her body was easily a thirty six-twenty
four-thirty six. He was a pretty good judge of that sort of thing. She
had full lips and high cheekbones. She was one damned fine-looking
woman.
She looked Riker over just as thoroughly. Taking a mental inventory, he
knew what she was seeing: yellow eyes—gold, he told himself and
medium brown hair dusted with salt and pepper that was too long and a
little shaggy. He was six feet, two inches tall and had heavy muscles on
his chest, arms and thighs—werewolves tended to be muscular, but he
worked out, too. He also knew he was pretty hairy yet not abnormally so.
Near the time of the full moon, he might seem a little more hairy. Only
when he transformed was he truly furry.
He wondered what was going through her mind, and it didn’t take him long
to find out.
After a few minutes, she reached out
her hand and said, “I’m...” And then her eyes had become watery and she
closed them. “I’m sleepy,” she mumbled. She pulled her hand back and
moved it under her cheek. “Cold,” she murmured, punctuated with a
full-body shiver.
He chuckled and wrapped himself
around her again. She smelled so good. She smelled like pumpkin pie with
whipped cream. No, she smelled like coconut cream pie with whipped
cream. She smelled like every good thing he could think of. Her scent
made him hard and hungry. He licked her neck and cheek, dozing off with
the beautiful stranger wrapped tightly in his arms.
Riker woke before she did, and gave
her a tentative lick. He didn’t want to wake her but he needed the
reassurance that she was still there. Damn, she smelled good. She tasted
like she smelled. She tasted like she looked. Yummy.
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