Sins of A Wolf (KinKaid Wolf Pack, #4)
By Jessica Lee
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About this ebook
The heat building between them is ready to erupt, threatening to shatter the wall around a soldier’s heart.
Former Green Beret, Zackary “Sin” Sinclair has a secret nipping at his heels. And he’ll do anything—go anywhere—to keep that info locked down tight. Including playing along with the news that he’s the father of his best friend’s little sister’s baby. But there’s no way in hell that’s possible since he hasn’t touched a woman in years. That, and his best friend has no idea Sin’s been hiding the fact he’s gay since they were teenagers.
KinKaid Wolf Pack Enforcer, Aydin Michaels is his cousin’s new pet project. If he doesn’t sober up and fall in line, he’ll be kissing his new career goodbye, and more than likely, packing up to head back east. The last thing he needs is a smokin’ hot human male with eyes that turn him inside out trying to play his hero.
When a bar fight goes wrong and Sin ends up bitten, Aydin is charged with tracking him down—before he shifts—and educating him about those in the world who aren’t quite human. Rule number one: in order to survive, shifters stick together. But convincing the hardheaded soldier on the run to stay put, preferably with him, is easier said than done. For Sin, putting down roots means paying a price. He either betrays a friend and risks losing the only family he’s ever known, or walk away from the man who’s claimed a piece of his soul.
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Sins of A Wolf (KinKaid Wolf Pack, #4) - Jessica Lee
Copyright © 2016 Jessica Lee
Edited by: Eden Royce
Cover art by: Mina Carter
Published by: Jessica Lee
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All rights reserved.
Disclaimer:
Adult content. This book contains sexually explicit material, violence, and graphic language. Please be advised that any reader sensitive to the above mentioned material may not wish to continue.
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Contact: Jessicaleenovels@ymail.com
Jessica’s Website
Join my Free Newsletter
Come and be a part of my Street Team. Join the Saints and Sinners!
Dedication
As always, this is for you. Because nothing would be possible without you, my love.
––––––––
Acknowledgment
A big shout-out to the best critique partner in the world—Naima. Love you, girl. You always make me smile, even thru the tough stuff. Your support and encouragement has been invaluable.
Table of Contents
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter One
Forrest Gump had it all wrong.
Life wasn’t like a box of chocolates.
It was a damn shot of tequila.
You know the shit’s going to burn, but you can’t keep from pouring it down your throat. Or from giving it every fucking thing and hoping like hell after the pain is gone, it will have all been worth it.
Zackery Sinclair, or Sin
as his former Green Beret buddies used to call him, tossed back another dose of the alcohol. Too bad in his case, the bitch—life, his world for the most part—hadn’t stepped up and shown him a damn thing except her ugly side.
Much like the current dive he’d rolled up to on his bike.
Sin surveyed the dimly lit room from his stool at the far end of the well-worn oak slab that faced the front door. Chain Drive consisted of a few marred tables and chairs along with a pool table in the back. The biker bar fit the bill for what he’d been looking for: all the liquor he could swallow in as unappealing and remote a place as possible—the northwest Cascade Mountains. A few thousand miles away from the upstate of South Carolina.
A loud crack sounded from the direction of the pool table. Sin watched over the rim of his shot glass as three men hovered over the game. Even from his vantage point, the thinning white spots in the green velvet telegraphed that the table had lost its virginal status many years ago. He could relate.
One of the men with shoulder-length, sandy blond hair, the strands tucked behind his ears, leaned over the edge of the wood. A smug grin tugged at the corners of a full, sensual mouth, exposing a perfect set of straight, white teeth. God, that mouth. The firm, carnal curves would make a grown man sob and suddenly find religion, if only for a moment, to feel the smooth glide of it sliding over his dick.
Sin cursed under his breath at the wicked thoughts running wild through his mind of all the things he could imagine doing to and with the blond. His cock swelled, surprising him with his body’s sudden, heated response to the other guy. When was the last time that had happened? He repositioned himself on the hard bar stool to allow more room behind his zipper.
The blond player pulled back on his stick, then slid it forward. Smooth and easy, like an artist painting a precise brush stroke onto the canvas. The way he handled the cue, Sin couldn’t help but wonder what other moves the guy had perfected. His growing erection twitched at the thought. The chalked end connected with the white cue ball, propelling it forward into a green one with a sharp clink.
Plop.
His target fell into a waiting slot as the cue ricocheted off, colliding with a third ball, sinking that one as well into the opposite corner pocket. Damn. The guy had played the game a time or two. And based on the expression of the other men around him, that hadn’t been what they’d expected.
Sorry, fellas,
the pool shark said, swiping the bills from the table and stuffing them in the pocket of his jeans. Guess it’s just my lucky day.
The blond grinned.
You played us for fools, Aydin Michaels,
the darker haired man barked at the blond. Slamming his stick onto the worn table, the pissed off biker bared his teeth and stalked toward the other guy.
Fuck. This was going to get ugly.
Come on, Derrick,
the shark called Aydin drawled and lifted his hands, palms open. You know I wouldn’t do that.
We don’t really know you at all, do we?
another man, taller, broader and with long dark hair bound at his nape added, closing in on him from the rear. Except that you’re a damn faggot.
The insult rolled down Sin’s spine like a hot wave of lava, stiffening his back and tightening his gut. Now why did they have to go and start with the name calling? He wasn’t anywhere near ready to announce to the world his sexual orientation. Hell, he still struggled with the idea himself that he preferred a man in his bed more than a woman. But he wasn’t about to sit there and allow someone to be bullied or have the shit beat out of him by some assholes because he was gay.
Sin’s fingers curled against the bar’s wooden surface. All he’d wanted was a quiet place to drown in a few shots. He motioned to the bartender and pointed to his glass. One more.
The tall, muscular barkeep with a mass of wavy, dark blond hair that looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, poured him a dose of liquid gold. Sin quickly tossed the alcohol back at the same moment Aydin pivoted on his heels and faced the guy with the filthy mouth.
What did you call me?
Aydin sneered.
I called you a damn faggot,
the other man spat. But what else should I expect, considering what pack you belong to.
Pack? Sin frowned. Now the guy had insulted the blond’s entire family, referring to them as a group of animals. Damn, that was cold.
Yeah,
the first guy slurred. Must be something in the fucking water on your land screwing with your damn brains.
Aydin shook his head as if he couldn’t believe the stupid crap spilling out their mouths. Idiots,
he muttered, then swung. His fist connected with the dark haired man’s jaw with a loud bone-to-bone crack.
And there it was—the first blow signaling the brawl had begun.
The larger man stumbled from the impact as the guy at Aydin’s back seized both of the blond’s arms. Aydin cursed and wrestled against the hold on his biceps.
Sin plopped his shot glass down onto the bar, shrugged off his leather jacket, and slid from his seat. Two against one was never fair in his playbook.
A loud rumble released from the biker with the bloodied lip as he whipped back around, snagging a beer bottle from the edge of the pool table. The longhaired asshole went straight for Aydin’s head, crashing the thick glass down on the other man’s skull. The bottle shattered, spraying glass and beer into his hair and down his face.
Son of a— They were going to kill the guy.
Sin darted for the bigger male, but before he could grab him, Aydin roared, rearing back into his captor. Hauling both his legs up, he kicked forward, ramming his boots into the other man’s chest, knocking him backward. The big dude flailed into Sin, taking them both into the side of the pool table. Under the weight of the brute, Sin’s spine slammed into the hard surface, punching the air from his lungs.
Get the fuck off,
Sin grunted and shoved the two-fifty plus biker. The big asshole stumbled back.
You want another piece of me?
Aydin shouted, his voice sounding more animal than human.
Sucking in a deep breath, Sin glanced up as the blond struggled against the other man’s hold. Come on,
Aydin blindly spat. His beer-soaked hair mixed with traces of blood clung to his face and eyelids.
Shit. The guy was asking to get killed.
The battered large biker snarled, drew an arm back, and swung. Sin lunged, blocking the other guy’s punch with the weight of his body. But the blunt force of the man’s forearm knocked him into Aydin. Fire flamed in Sin’s wrist as he ricocheted off the blond and slammed into the wall, the back of his head smacking the paneling.
Dammit.
His ears rang. Stars danced in front of his eyes. What the hell were the men around here made of? Steel?
He curled his fingers into a fist, ready to dole out a little payback for his headache when another arrow of pain raced up his forearm. Lifting his right hand, he stared down at the punctured and torn flesh of his wrist. Blood trickled from the wound and trailed down toward his elbow. What or who the hell had bitten him?
Sin lifted his gaze to the man at the center of the battle. The blow had to be messing with Sin’s head. Free from his attacker’s hold, the blond growled and thrust a hand into his wet hair, shoving it back and away from his eyes. Sin’s spine went rigid. Aydin’s eyes—the pupils—they were huge. His nose had lengthened, broadened. Hell, his entire jaw had elongated along with his teeth. Fuck, teeth. Those damn things were fangs!
Sin shook his head, heart racing. The blow to his skull had to have screwed with his brain. The eyes, the changing features, the fangs—they couldn’t be real. A loud crash resonated off the walls. A chair lay in splinters on the floor behind the guy who’d been holding Aydin.
Break it up!
A loud male voice bellowed from the other side of the pool table. The large biker whipped around and away from Aydin as if the new guy were somehow his commander. A tall man with dark hair buzzed close to the scalp, wearing black leather from his jacket down to his boots stood glaring at the trio of brawling men. His mouth forming a thin, rigid line, the stranger crossed his arms, the cowhide doing little to mask the hard muscles beneath.
Whoever the hell he was, Sin didn’t really care to find out and wasn’t sticking around for introductions.
Slapping a palm over his wound, he slipped away from the scene. At the bar, he snatched his jacket off the stool. He needed to find the bathroom, clean his arm up, then blow this joint.
Hey,
the bartender called out.
Sin drew to a halt. What the fuck now?
You okay there?
The muscle-bound dirty blond indicated Sin’s arm with a nod. Despite the fact Sin’s hand covered the wound, blood smeared his arm and fingers, drawing attention. And attention was the last thing he wanted. Common sense should have kept his nose out of the pool shark’s mess. But when was the last time he’d ever listened to his rational side?
Yeah. Sure.
Sin shrugged. I’m good, man.
I’ve got a first-aid kit back here.
The bartender reached for something under the oak slab.
No. Don’t worry about it,
Sin said. It’s nothing but a scratch.
The other guy straightened, his eyes assessing Sin as if he had some kind of radar for lies and the damn thing had pegged out. That’s a lot of blood for a scratch.
I’ve lived through worse,
Sin added, and that wasn’t a lie. Two tours in the Middle East had left him with a shit-load of scars. I’m not planning on suing you or anyone else, if that’s what you’re worrying about.
Nope. Not worried. Just wanted to make sure you’re all right. That’s all there was to it.
Like I said...I’m fine.
Sin continued toward the men’s room. I’m going to clean up, and then I’ll be one less problem for you to deal with.
Inside the narrow, dark bathroom, Sin quickly scrubbed his arm with the blue gel soap from the wall dispenser and rinsed it under the cold stream of water. Damn. The thing burned like a stinging swarm of bees. The skin around the puncture marks had already reddened and begun to swell. But he didn’t have time for doctors or a hospital. Besides, how was he to explain what appeared to be a dog bite, when he hadn’t been anywhere near a canine? Images of the fight flashed before his mind’s eye. One in particular he wished like hell he could erase...
Aydin’s face.
Correction. What had started out as Aydin’s face. Within seconds, the man’s handsome features had morphed into something that shouldn’t be possible.
Something that wasn’t human.
He cupped his hands under the stream, collecting the water, then splashed the liquid onto his face. His breath hitched from the shock of the icy impact, and he shook his head. He’d been on the road for too long.
That had to be why he was imagining shit that belonged in books and movies, not reality.
After wrapping a few paper towels from the dispenser around his arm, he secured them in place with a bandana from his pocket and shrugged on his jacket. It had already stopped bleeding, and the temporary bandage would keep it clean. The bartender had mentioned earlier there was a small motel about five to seven miles north of here. Once he found a place to bed down for the night, he’d dress the injury with some proper supplies from the pack locked inside his bike.
Sin exited the bathroom and made a beeline for the front door. He’d crossed the threshold onto the covered porch when someone called out.
Hey. Wait up!
Maybe the guy was talking to him.
Maybe not. And the latter was his choice of the day. He’d already stuck his nose too far into someone else’s business. As they say: no good deed goes unpunished.
Slinging his leg over his matte black and grey Victory Magnum, Sin fired up the engine. After sliding his helmet in place, he rolled the bike backward at the same moment the blond pool shark stepped out onto the bar’s wooden deck. Sin’s grip tightened on the handlebars at the sight of the ripped male. Why the fuck did he have to be so damn hot?
Aydin mouthed something in Sin’s direction, but the roar of his bike drowned out whatever it was the other guy tried to say. Good. Not knowing made it that much easier to get the hell out of there.
Throttling up, Sin roared out of the gravel lot.
***
Chapter Two
Aydin Michaels watched as the biker dressed in black leather straddling a machine as dark and mysterious as its rider, burned out of Chain Drive’s lot. Despite the fact he’d yelled for him to hold up. The