Authors: Gale Stanley
Urban Affairs 1
Two undercover agents weave a web of deceit when they bed their target.
Undercover Were-agent Slade Wolfe works for the Department of Shifter Affairs. He's on special assignment to take down Jaxon Castle, a resistance leader. Slade's contact in New York is a human cop, Mike Donovan, who's hiding his real relationship with their target—he and Jaxon are lovers. When Slade beds Jaxon so he can plant his surveillance equipment, a jealous Mike freaks out.
Both agents suspect the charges have been trumped up by the Feds and they're reluctant to take Jaxon down, but the director of DSA is getting antsy and he orders Mike to kill his partner and frame Jaxon for the murder. Getting rid of his competition is tempting, but Mike can't kill an innocent man, even if it means he'll end up in DSA's crosshairs with his rival and his boyfriend.
Alternative (M/M or F/F), Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Shape-shifter
Urban Affairs 1
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IMPRINT: Ménage Amour ManLove
Copyright © 2012 by Gale Stanley
First E-book Publication: June 2012
Cover design by Harris Channing
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Urban Affairs 1
Copyright © 2012
A spotlight came on, illuminating one end of the plywood stage, and a disembodied voice came over the loudspeaker. “Get ready to drool, men, because tonight we have a new dancer and he’s gonna turn up the heat. Here he is, for the first time on our stage, or any stage for that matter. Let’s hear it for Slade.” The crowd went wild and men started moving toward the platform to catch a scent of the newcomer.
Jaxon Castle took a seat at the bar, and Quinn slid a bottle of mineral water in front of him. Jax never drank anything stronger than water at his club. He knew what the other shifters called him behind his back—control freak. They didn’t mean it as a compliment. Jax preferred to think of himself as
a detail-oriented manager
Things tended to go wrong if he didn’t attend to every detail himself,
and he needed all his animal instincts functioning at their peak in case of trouble. That meant staying stone-cold sober.
The bartender leaned over to make himself heard over the noise. “Fresh meat, huh?”
“Yeah. All the way from Los Angeles.”
“What’s he doing here?”
“The same thing all the strays are doing,” Jaxon grunted. “Running from the law. Dogtown is turning into a fucking dog pound.”
“You don’t give them all jobs in your club. What’s so special about this one?”
Jaxon shrugged. “His timing was good. Korey didn’t show up today. The little prick left me high and dry, and on a Saturday night. Fucking unbelievable. Then this guy walks in, fresh off the bus, and looking for any kind of job, and a place to stay. I sent him over to Benjamin to see about renting an apartment and told him to come back tonight for an audition. I sure hope he’s good.”
“You didn’t check his credentials?” Quinn feigned a surprised look but couldn’t hold back his laughter.
“I didn’t want to scare him off.”
“He doesn’t look like he scares easy.”
It was true. With a six-foot-four, muscular frame and rugged features, the newcomer looked like he could hold his own. Jaxon took a big swallow from the bottle.
“Well, I wouldn’t worry about it, boss. The men like a variety of inventory.” Quinn winked. “I know for a fact most of the guys would like to see
up on that stage.”
Jaxon choked and spewed water across the bar.
Quinn smirked and wiped his face with the back of an arm. “You all right, boss?”
“Fuck you.” Jaxon scowled at him, swiveled on his stool, and leaned his elbows back on the bar. He heard Quinn laughing behind him, but he focused on the stage. The men were more than curious about his private life, but the subject was strictly off-limits.
Not that he had much time for a life. The Kennel Club took up most of his waking hours. The club wasn’t fancy, but it was all his. The bar was here when he bought the place, dented and scarred like it had been through a war and almost as long as the room. Wood and leather stools lined the length, and there were also a number of tables scattered around the room. Between the bar and the stage there was a small dance floor and a side room with two pool tables and some dartboards. Jaxon’s office and apartment were upstairs. Downstairs there were private rooms where a wolf-shifter could take a fuck buddy if he got lucky.
Jax had added a few modern touches over the years. He’d put in a small kitchen where he served up a simple menu including burgers, hot dogs, and fries. But when he’d put up a stage and added a dancer, business had really taken off. It had been Korey’s idea. The young wolf needed a job, and jobs were scarce in this economy, especially for shifters. Humans didn’t hire Weres, and most shifters in Dogtown couldn’t afford to pay employees.
Korey was one hell of a dancer with a sexy little body that drew attention. He offered to work for tips, and his gig went so well that Jaxon hired him on the spot and paid him a small salary. It wasn’t like him to not show up, but Korey wouldn’t be the first kid to take off looking for greener pastures. Still, it would have been nice if he had given Jaxon some notice.
Yeah, the bar had grown since he took it over, and he had big ideas to make it even better, so it benefited him to hang around to make sure there’d be no trouble. If he wanted trouble he’d have stayed in his apartment in Chelsea where he had to hide his identity as a Were or deal with discrimination and hostility. He couldn’t wait to get out and live among his own kind. Shifters had been buying up abandoned properties for years and finally took over
a blighted section of the city and rebranded the area as Dogtown. Any humans still living in the area had moved out when the wolves moved in. His people had started co-ops and businesses that catered to their own kind. They kept to themselves, satisfied to live a parallel, peaceful existence with humanity, and for the most part humanity stayed away from Dogtown.
So any trouble in Jaxon’s club was caused by the wolves themselves, and those kind of scuffles he could handle.
The shifters were horndogs. Ingesting a little too much alcohol caused all those pent-up animal instincts to rise to the surface. It was the nature of the beast. Whoever said
an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure
hit it right on the nose. Hiring a big, beefy doorman helped a lot, but most dogfights broke out on the dance floor, so Jaxon had recruited a few enforcers and stationed them around the room, while he sat at the bar. The precautions had saved him from a mountain of trouble and a big loss of revenue. Maintaining a testosterone-friendly atmosphere was cheaper than paying for renovations every time somebody started a fight.
Finally, his dancer stepped into the light, and the shifter’s appearance brought a fresh round of cheers and applause.
The animals are restless.
I hoped they’re not disappointed.
The man was packing, but a stripper needed more than a pretty face and a big dick. It didn’t hurt to be a flamboyant showman. Personality and people skills were a must if a performer expected good tips. Jaxon decided he’d reserve his opinion until the end of the performance.
Electronic music came over the loudspeaker. Whoops and wolf whistles accompanied Slade as he flipped his waves of black hair and strutted across the platform to the primal, erotic beat. His black leather pants encased his muscular thighs like a second skin. The spotlight followed him like an adoring puppy. So did every pair of eyes in the room.
Slade stopped center stage and flashed the crowd a wicked grin. Jaxon knew even a wolf’s keen sight couldn’t see past the blinding spotlight, but he could swear that smile was meant for him and his heart lurched. That was a mouth meant for sin. Jaxon pictured those full lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him off until he popped. Where did that come from? Jaxon was not easily impressed, but this man was one sexy motherfucker.
Slade’s intense amber eyes framed by long, black lashes peered out from a
sculpted face with high cheekbones and an angular jaw. The wolf possessed a rugged masculinity that Jaxon found extremely appealing. The tight leathers hinted at a good-size package to go along with the shifter’s movie-star looks.