"Lady," Jurgen Cuyper said, gritting his teeth as his cock dug at the confines of his jeans. Music pumped from the old jukebox in the corner of the bar. It was a song that was made before he was born and it was one of the most recent songs the thing had to offer. "I don't know who the hell you think you are but I'm trying to enjoy a drink and your yapping is makin' that damn hard to do."

The woman, her strawberry–blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun, gasped. Tiny wisps of it came free and he knew it was long and slightly curly. His fingers itched to run through it.

Her blue eyes reeled with astonishment and her tongue darted out and over her lips. "My yapping?"

He palmed his dick through his jeans, staring her over. She'd be a sweet fuck. He was sure of that. He could almost taste her cream on his lips as he brought his glass to his mouth. The whiskey had a slight bite, nowhere as sharp as his could be. He glanced at his buddy, a fellow private pilot, and grinned. "Think she'd look good on me? Looks about my size, doesn't she?"

His friend laughed, lifting his drink and slamming it down. "Hell yeah. If she doesn't fit you, man, I'll take her for a spin or two."

Pure animalistic rage ripped through him and his eyes burned with the need to shift colors. His voice deepened in warning. "Don't even think about it."

Putting his hands up to signal surrender, his friend hurried away, knowing better than to chance Jurgen's wrath. He had no reason to stake a claim on the woman but he couldn't seem to stop himself. His supernatural blood tended to control his moods more than he liked but it had never done so to this extent before.

The woman huffed, lifted the bottle of whiskey and poured it directly onto his lap. Jurgen shot up and out of the chair, sending it crashing to the ground. Disbelief shot through him. The woman actually wasted perfectly good liquor. He was about to tell her exactly what he thought of that when he noticed the moisture in her eyes. Her bottom lip trembled and dammit if his chest didn't get all tight.

Fuck.

He ran a hand over his shorn hair and glanced to the side to find most of the bar staring at him. The place was a dive but it was a dive he knew well. He glared at them and they looked away.

Putting his hand out, Jurgen sighed. "Don't do that."

She held the empty bottle out to him, her chin wobbling.

"For Christ's sake, lady, don't do that."

She burst into tears and he growled, bending and scooping her up. He tossed her over one shoulder and stalked toward the back of the bar. She slapped at his back but he ignored her. His jeans rubbed him the wrong way and chaffing was a real threat. His boots crunched the semi sandy soil as he headed straight for one of the many tiny cabins that ran along the backside of the bar.

"Put me down!" the pistol of a woman over his shoulder yelled, hitting at his back again.

"I will." He flashed a wicked grin. "Then I'm stripping these wet jeans off and I'm going to make you lick every drop of whiskey from my body."

She froze and it took all he had not to laugh. As much as he wanted that pretty pink tongue running over the head of his cock, he'd never force a woman to do anything she didn't want to do. That wasn't his thing. Though he had to admit he'd considered whisking away the livid li'l thing. He'd caught her engaging scent before she'd even entered the bar. His cock responded first, which wasn't surprising. The thing did tend to have a mind of its own. The beast he carried within was next in line to acknowledge that she stirred something in him.

Hell, that was sight unseen.

Watching her sexy body sashay into the bar as she'd asked for a pilot and a plane to take her to the mainland did something to him he couldn't explain. For a minute, the pulsing in his cock seemed to reach his head, beating, pounding out something that sounded remarkably like "claim her".

A shudder raced through him at the thought of tying himself to any one woman, let alone the one he held now. She was demanding, prissy, too proper, too wiggling on his shoulder.

Her arousal assailed his senses. Inhaling deeply, Jurgen groaned, the tip of his dick leaking pre–come. "Woman, be still or you will be fucked good and hard. Am I clear?"

"Y–yes," she whispered.