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  Acceptable Risk © September 2015 by Candace Blevins

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

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  First Edition September 2015

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  Acceptable Risk

  by Candace Blevins

  Acceptable Risk is part of the Chattanooga Supernaturals paranormal romance series, which is a sister series to the Only Human urban fantasy series, and the Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club. You don’t need to have read the other books to enjoy Acceptable Risk, but if you enjoy the story and characters, you can learn more about the books in this universe at candaceblevins.com/kirsten-osheas-universe.

  Prologue

  Ranger pulled open the heavy wooden door and walked in from the damp, chilly day into the raucous laughter of a biker bar at noon, filled with more people eating than drinking at this time of day.

  Men seated around several tables stopped and looked his direction, and he knew they were sniffing him. He wasn’t a member of the local wolf pack, he was an unknown wolf, and he’d walked into an establishment owned by a werewolf bike club.

  Luckily, the president of the club was expecting him.

  “I’m here to see Duke,” he told the bartender, and the man nodded towards a table with two men.

  One of the men stood and offered his hand as Ranger approached.

  “You must be Ranger. I’m Duke, this is Brain. Have a seat.”

  There was no menu, and no one came to take his order, but he’d expected as much. Aaron Drake had gotten him the sit-down, but hadn’t told them what he wanted.

  “I’ve been working at Drake Security a while, but they’ve had me out of the country most of the time, so there was no need to introduce myself.”

  “We aren’t a pack. You aren’t obligated to get permission to be in the territory unless you’re wanting to start your own club.”

  Ranger shook his head. “Courtesy visit, I know I’m not obligated. I talked to the local Alpha already, and he knows I have no intention of joining his pack. I plan to make my three obligatory full moon runs a year with my Texas pack so I won’t be a lone wolf. The local Alpha gave me leave to stay in this territory as long as I’m working for Drake and don’t cause problems.”

  Duke smiled. “And can you behave? Will this be a problem for you?”

  “There’s enough of a structure at Drake to give me what I need, personally, but I’m coming to ask for a little help with a new wolf.”

  The two men looked at each other, and Brain asked, “What’s the story?”

  “Drake said it’s safe to trust the two of you with the details.” He paused until they both nodded, and continued. “I’ve been handling jobs for Drake in the middle east. We were hired to rescue an American taken by the enemy, and when we got to him, the man had been tortured. They’d cut pieces of him off, but it hadn’t been more than a couple of days. We explained he could stay a human and do without his right hand, assorted left fingers, and ear…or we could turn him into a werewolf and there was a good chance everything would grow back. He chose wolf.”

  “You turned him? Personally?” Duke asked.

  “Yeah. He’s mine, so I’ll be working local for a while, until I’m sure he has his wolf under control.”

  “What do you need from us?”

  “He’s seven weeks in. Been through two full moons and has decent control. He has a serious case of cabin fever and wants to go out for a drink. We’re approaching the new moon, so now’s the time to try. Aaron suggested your bar might be the safest spot for his maiden voyage.”

  “How fucked up is he from the torture?” Brain asked.

  “He’s a seasoned operative, not his first time at the rodeo. It was bad, but Aaron’s making him talk to the company shrink and she tells us he has good coping skills.” Ranger shrugged. “I take responsibility for him. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think he could handle it.”

  Chapter One

  Mac pulled into the parking lot of the Rolling Thunder Bar and looked around to get a feel for the place. It was a typical biker bar — not his first choice, but he’d certainly been to much worse places, and right now he’d consider walking into hell if it meant he could go somewhere besides the Drake Security offices or the house he was sharing with Ranger and Jonathan.

  He’d lost control of his wolf enough to know he shouldn’t go out in public alone, yet, but he was going crazy. He was a social person, and now a social wolf. He was never alone — either Jonathan or Ranger was with him, twenty four hours a day and seven days a week. However, he wanted to go out, have a beer, talk to women, cut up. He needed to know how his wolf would react in a room full of people.

  Not to mention, it’d been close to ten weeks since he’d dipped his cock into a warm pussy.

  They’d let him drive for nearly two weeks now, and he’d wondered why they made him start out on back roads, but soon realized with his enhanced senses and faster reflexes, the muscle memory he’d built up around driving no longer worked. He’d practically needed to relearn to drive and it was damned annoying.

  Pounding music hit him like a sledgehammer when he stepped through the front door, and adrenaline flooded his veins as all the smells and sounds of the bar assaulted him. He stepped to the side, looked down, and took a breath — not because he was close to losing control, but to simply take a minute to acclimate, and to soothe the sometimes savage wolf now sharing a body with the human parts of him.

  He looked around and noted rich, wooden paneling on the walls with gleaming motorcycle parts mounted around the room. The bar along the side wall looked expensive, complete with a brass foot-bar, and carved pieces on the corners. No live band, but a nice sized dance floor, and the music wasn’t the honky-tonk-hell he’d been afraid of.

  When he’d collected himself, he nodded to Ranger and the three men walked through the bar to the back, where someone was supposed to be holding one of the VIP tables for them.

  Chapter Two

  Bethany pointed to her best friend’s margarita and told her, “You aren’t drinking fast enough. Cassie and I are on our second and you’ve barely started your first!”

  Gen smiled, took a big drink, and asked, “So what happened with the hottie personal trainer? Oh, and the pro-football player? He hasn’t been back to town in a while, has he?”

  “They were okay, but both were just a short, fun, fling.” Bethany said with a shrug. “I meant what I said about wanting a harem. Cassie
has it fucking made with her three guys.”

  “I don’t think that’s the kind of thing you can plan for,” Gen said as she rolled her eyes. “And besides, my brother’s a demented sexual freak. I love him…” She shuddered, then seemed to realize how her words must sound and she turned to her brother’s girlfriend and said, “No offense, I’m glad ya’ll found each other, but…” Another shudder, and both Bethany and Cassie laughed.

  “No offense taken,” Cassie said. “I love him, too, but I won’t argue with his being demented. It’s one of my favorite parts,” she said with a happy smile.

  Bethany smiled and laughed, but frowned on the inside as she realized her friend Gen was wrong, because Bethany would be in heaven if she could find a harem of sexually demented men to have at her beck and call. But, while Gen might not be anywhere near as naïve as she’d been before she started dating the president of a motorcycle club, she wasn’t likely to ever know much about kink.

  Three men walked by, and Bethany thought her eyes might bug out of her head. They were all different, but each perfect in their own way. A brown haired bodybuilder type; a red headed wiry-muscled dude who was probably as strong as the first, just more compact; and a perfectly normal looking black haired man who might be the most deadly of the three. In her mind, she could see them as special ops guys taking it easy between assignments. Their confident strides weren’t bravado. These men didn’t have to think about looking macho — they oozed it without trying.

  “Oh, my,” Bethany said, drawing the last word out into a half-dozen syllables. “Look at those three. If I were building a harem and had my druthers, I’d start with them. Shit-fuck-damn, but what I wouldn’t give to be under all three of them in a giant bed like your brother’s.”

  “Stop reminding me of my brother’s giant bed. I love him, and I adore his partners, but I’d just as soon ignore whatever it is the four of them do in that dumb bed.”

  Bethany grinned, knowing ‘dumb’ was code word for Gen wanting to say ‘damn’, and wondered once again how her best friend had ended up so happy being paired with a biker.

  * * * *

  “No,” Ranger told Mac. “Absolutely not. We can try to set you up with a female wolf if you just need to get laid, but no way in hell do you get intimate with a human female.”

  “But you heard what she said! She wants us all in bed at once. Are you seriously telling me you’re gonna pass that up?”

  “We’ll come back when you have two more full moons under your belt, see if she’s still interested,” Ranger said. “Drink your beer and relax. You wanted to come to a bar, we’re here.”

  Mac looked at Jonathan, who was looking at the beautiful woman a few tables away, thoughtful.

  “Actually,” Jonathan told Ranger, “with both of us there to help him keep control, I think he’ll be okay. I mean, we’ve heard his and Tyler’s stories of what they did when they were both with the Agency and working together, and I know the two of you have shared a few times. He’s used to handling a ménage, so it’ll be familiar territory. If she’s willing, I vote we give it a go.”

  Ranger sighed, looked back to the redhead, and finally told Mac, “Get her on the dance floor. Any loss of control and you make excuses and come to us, but let’s see how you do dancing. No promises, but maybe this’ll at least let you meet her and get her number.”

  Chapter Three

  Bethany’s heart jumped into overdrive as she looked up and saw the huge, muscled, brown headed man a few steps away — one of the guys she’d wanted in her harem. He kept walking towards her, and she thought her heart might have stopped a few seconds when their gazes met.

  Once again, her instinct told her these guys were bad-asses. Not the kind who think they’re bad, but who are truly rough-and-tumble men capable of handling just about anything. Gen’s boyfriend, Duke, fit the definition, but he was rough around the edges. These guys were much more polished, but they still exuded excitement and danger.

  Mister Muscles didn’t feed her a line, didn’t ask her name. He walked up to her, tilted his head as he gave a friendly smile full of promise, and asked, “Wanna dance?”

  Bethany looked at Gen, and her best friend was laughing as she said, “Go! I have no idea how you do it, but dance with the man, see what happens.”

  Bethany’s head barely came to this man’s collarbone, and she was certain his biceps were bigger around than her thighs. Most white men built like him couldn’t dance, but she was pleasantly surprised to discover he could hold his own on the dance floor.

  They danced three fast eighties metal songs before a slow country song played, and he almost made her feel like a child again when he pulled her into his strong arms. She hadn’t expected this huge, muscled man to be so gentle and affectionate.

  He also wasn’t pawing all over her, but keeping his hands where they belonged. It made her want to let her hands roam, if only to see how he reacted, but she didn’t. The adventurous imp in her took a backseat to his embrace.

  “I’m David MacNeill, but my friends call me Mac.”

  “Hi, Mac. I’m Bethany. It’s nice to meet you.”

  He brushed her hair back from her face, leaned his face towards her, and seemed to smell her. His eyes had an odd look for a split second, but then were normal. He put his mouth to her ear and asked, “If your friends’ll be okay without you a little while, would you like to come back to my table and talk?”

  The slow dance was starting to get to her, and a cool down would be ideal right about now — before she made the first move on him. She had a feeling this man was used to being in control, and she wanted to give it to him.

  “Sure, Mac. I’ll follow you.”

  His smile was deliciously wicked as he said, “And deprive me of watching you walk in front of me? I think not. Lead the way, my beautiful little fiery vixen.”

  “Yours?”

  “Mmmm, so it’s not the fiery vixen you have a problem with, but the idea I’d like to make you mine?”

  “Possession goes both ways, Mac. You know this, right?” Time to back him off, and reminding guys they can’t own you unless you own them works so much better than telling them you aren’t interested in belonging to anyone. Why did guys always take the latter as a challenge?

  “Yeah, it does, but I don’t believe for a second you want to own me.” He pulled his mouth away from her ear and said, “Come on, time to meet my friends.”

  One of Rolling Thunder’s bouncers had been close to Bethany since she’d stepped onto the dance floor with Mac, and now he followed not far behind. She turned to look at him, but he only smiled and didn’t alter his pace.

  “This is Ranger,” Mac said as they reached his friends, “and Jonathan. Let’s get you a drink and then maybe you can dance with one of them? Did I see you with a margarita?”

  The VIP seats had a waitress close at all times, and Mac let her know they wanted three more beers and a margarita on the rocks.

  “Three obviously high-class girls in the VIP seats of a biker bar, I’m sure there’s a story,” Ranger said. “And more to the point, why’s one of RTMC’s enforcers shadowing you?”

  Bethany’s brow wrinkled as she asked, “Enforcers?” Her head followed the direction Ranger was looking, and she said, “Oh, you mean Gonzo? He’s one of the bouncers, but I’m not sure why he followed me. As for who I know, my best friend is dating one of the guys who owns the bar.”

  “The motorcycle club owns the bar.”

  Bethany nodded. “Yeah, and she’s dating one of them. Who do you guys know? You’re sitting in the VIP section, too.”

  “Duke made the arrangements for us.”

  The waitress brought their drinks, and Bethany turned to Mac, gave him a smile and said, “Thanks,” as she licked the rim and took her first drink.

  Mac leaned forward with what sounded like a low, animalistic growl, and his lips met hers as she swallowed the sweet liquor. He caught her off guard, and instead of pushing him away with a laugh, her lips mo
lded to his, and opened as his tongue teased its way into her mouth.

  As soon as she put her hand to the front of his chest, he backed off with a mischievous, happy smile. “Been wanting to do that since I first saw you.”

  “I can see now, I’m going to have to keep an eye on you,” Bethany said with a grin as she tried to bring her breathing and heartbeat back to some semblance of normal. She reached for her drink and downed half of it, then realized perhaps more alcohol wasn’t the way to go right now.

  “I can’t place your accent,” she told Mac. “Where are you from?”

  “I’m originally from Florida, but I’ve lived all over the world and my accent is kind of fucked. Your accent says you’ve lived in the south your whole life, though. Am I right?”

  “Yeah. I even stayed in town for school, but my life’s here, so I’m good with it.”

  God, she wasn’t drunk, why was she oversharing? Looking to Jonathan, she said, “I know Ranger has a Texas accent, but I haven’t heard you say more than ‘nice to meet ya,’ which tells me southern, but not what part of the south. Don’t tell me though, I want to guess, but I need you to talk, please.”

  Jonathan’s smile made him go from red headed boy-next-door to bad boy who could do things to you in bed to make you come unglued, and his words backed up the look as he said, “Dance with me and I’ll talk for you, Raggedy Ann.”

  Bethany’s hands involuntarily went to her hair, and her mouth opened to accept his offer when she remembered Mac. Her head swiveled to him, and he smiled and said, “I don’t mind sharing with my friends, and I think it’d be hot to watch ya’ll kiss on the dance floor. Go, have fun.”

  Unsure of what to do or say, she completely forgot to call Jonathan Raggedy Andy back, but let him lead her to the dance floor.