Read Goldie's Three Werebears (Steamy Werebear Shifter FMMM Menage Romance) Online
Authors: Nikki Wild
Goldie's Three Werebears (Steamy Werebear Shifter FMMM Menage Romance)
(WEREBEAR SHIFTER FMMM STEAMY ROMANCE)
By Nikki Wild
Copyright 2015 Nikki Wild
All Rights Reserved
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–Nikki Wild
Goldie’s Three Werebears!
(WEREBEAR SHIFTER FMMM EROTIC ROMANCE)
Sexy stripper, Goldie, loves the spotlight and attention from men. When her boss asks her to dance for a private, exclusive party, she is definitely down. But when she finds out just who she will be dancing for, she pulls out all the stops.
Because her audience isn't made up of just some mundane humans. No, Goldie's going to be dancing for a crowd of werebear shifters and there are three men in particular who have caught her eye. Nothing feels quite so good as attention, except maybe the attention of
all three of them...at once!
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The lights dimmed and I squared my shoulders, rolling my head from side to side to dispel the excess tension. There was no reason to be nervous, I knew it, but that did nothing for the butterflies that danced and twirled in my stomach. Pre-show jitters. No matter how long I had been at this, I could never quite shake them.
I took a deep breath, clenched my fists and then relaxed. I was doing this. I was going to dance for them now.
The spotlight flicked on, focusing on my mark. I began to count off the beat.
Four, three, two, one
...The intro to my music began, a low tone. I stepped out on the stage, my bare toes pointed as I walked sensuously to my light. The bright flashes from the sequins on my costume almost blinded me. I heard a whistle from the crowd and had to suppress my smile.
I had their attention.
As the introduction built to a crescendo, I kept my head bowed, eyes on my purple painted toes and counted down my beats. Someone in the audience yelled something that elicited a chuckle, but the rest of the guys shushed him.
All eyes were on me, I could feel it and there was nothing better. I felt like I could draw energy from their gaze. It buoyed me up, gave me life, gave me a reason for living. There was nothing better than commanding all the attention in the room. Nothing better than the spotlight. I was a star and I knew it. I didn't even need to move yet. They were already eating out of my hand.
Tonight was a special night at the Crescent Moon Saloon. A private party for a group of wealthy clients and they had requested only the best dancers. Moe, the owner had come to me, of course, because he knew that not only was I his best dancer, but that I also knew how to keep my mouth shut.
And when he said that, I suddenly understood who I would be dancing for tonight.
Shifters.
The bears.
There was a delicious pause in the music. Goosebumps tingled up my body, shivering up my spine. And then I came alive.
The spotlight swung to as I began, keeping me tightly in focus. I could feel its heat on my skin almost as hot as the burning gaze of my audience. I threw up my hands, feeling the energy radiate from my fingertips and then I began my routine.
In two leaps I was suspended from my pole, supporting the weight of my body with my knees as I spun slowly around. The audience cheered in raucous appreciation as I gripped the pole and spun my legs out into a full split. I hovered there for a long moment, treating them to a long, delicious look at my lithe, dancer's body and firm abs before I flipped completely upside-down. I twirled around, pressing tightly to the pole with my forearm, the cold steel biting my flesh. But it didn't matter because I knew I was giving them all a good, long look at my shapely legs and strong thighs. I held the pose as long as I could, smiling through the pain, before planting my hands on the floor and executing a perfect handstand.
The crowd exploded and through the sweat of my exertion I could see the dollar bills raining down on the stage. But it was not the prospect of how much money I was making that had me so excited.
It was the amber eyes of the men on the table closest to the stage.
I flipped over, the momentary rush of blood to my head making me slightly dizzy. Or maybe it was their gaze on my body. They were magnetic. I executed a flawless turn and twisted my body mid leap so that I landed on my hands and knees. Undulating my back as I crawled, I slinked over to the table and knelt up on my knees, spreading my thighs wide as I sinuously pumped my hips.
Dancing always turns me on. Using my body, exerting myself, the rush of the attention I get when I perform perfectly, all of it never fails to get my core throbbing. I could see the flush already spreading across my thighs, and the slow pulse in my core beat in rhythm with my pumping music. I could feel my cheeks flushing and knew that my eyes were shining. I licked my lips as I watched them hungrily, and suddenly all I wanted was their hands on my body.
There were three of them, and their calm demeanors were at a marked contrast to the wild shouts and lewd comments coming from the rest of the party. Blinded by the harsh glare of the spotlight, I could only make out the highlights and shadows that played across sculpted faces. And their eyes, glowing amber, backlit like the eyes of an animal.
The feeling of their gaze on my skin was electric. I worked my hands up my torso, slick with exertion, and slid them underneath my slinky, spangled bra-top. In my heightened state, I could almost imagine it was their hands that touched me. The moan that escaped my lips was luckily drowned out by the thunderous bass of my song.
I closed my eyes as I slid my hand up to my neck and down my shoulder, then opened them wide. The three shifters were staring, unblinking. Watching them watch me, I slowly let one strap fall.
Just like I hoped, they leaned forward. When they moved into the light, I was nearly blown backward by the animal magnetism of their faces. Tawny gold skin and amber eyes set off ruggedly handsome faces, all rough-hewn and solid, like they had been carved by a master sculptor. I caught glimpses of muscled forearms disappearing under crisp white shirts with the sleeves rolled up, and strong hands with long fingers.
I bit my lip and suppressed another moan.
I knew in an instant that these men were who I was dancing for. I wanted their attention. I wanted their eyes on my skin.
And I wanted their hands on it too. More than anything else, I wanted them to touch me.
I let the strap fall and rolled my shoulders. My breasts spilled free from their prison and the crowd erupted. I heard wild shouts and saw the money fall down like rain, but I wanted a reaction from the three bears in front of me.
They sat there watching, eyes on me, but their expressions were unchanged.
Frustrated, I flung my top out in the crowd and rocked back up to my feet. Stalking in a circle on my sky-high stilettos, I again grabbed the pole and flipped upside down. Grabbing hold with my ankles, I pushed myself out so that I was bent in a sinuous curve as I slowly spun in a circle. The metal pole bit into my ankles, but I gritted my teeth, conscious of how delectable I looked with my cascading blonde hair brushing the floor, my high breasts on display.
I wanted to get a rise out of those three shifters. I was determined to get them riled up.
But why?
What was I hoping they'd do?
I ignored that thought and continued my routine, closing my eyes in ecstatic bliss as I twirled and swung. The noise of the crowd was all background now. Now it was just me and the music and my throbbing, pulsing core.
Wrapping my knees around the pole, I swung my body outward. My song was building to a crescendo and I was breathing heavily. The music coursed through my body as I lifted my leg slowly to my shoulder, executing a perfect split all the way down to my pointed toes. I arched my back quickly, grasping the pole again, and then flipped around, sending the pole spinning wildly. I could feel myself building up to a frenzy. I knew that if I touched myself now, I would come like a freight train. My whole body was on fire as I whipped around and around, my hair flung back as I spun dizzily in tighter and tighter circles until the music crashed around us and I fell to the floor, legs splayed, back arched and breasts heaving.
The crowd exploded, cheering wildly, the money raining down. My whole body ached with pent-up desire. All I cared about was the reaction from the three shifters. Holding my pose, I snuck a quick glance to their table.
They were gone.
Disappointment coursed through my body like a cold shower. I stood up, slightly wobbly, and rushed to collect all the dollar bills that carpeted the stage. Smiling, waving and blowing kisses, I pretended to flirt before rushing back off the stage.
Pressing my head to the cinderblock wall, I counted backwards from ten, but there was no change in my body. That frantic desire still coursed through my veins, flashing like minnows in my bloodstream. I crossed my legs and did a little hopping dance, moaning through my teeth. Fuck, I needed to be alone and quickly.
I stood back up again and nearly startled when I saw someone there. I had almost forgotten the show hadn't ended with my performance. "Great show, Goldie," my friend Cherry grinned, rolling her head form side to side. "Thanks for warming them up for me."
I was so out of breath I couldn't speak. I smiled encouragingly as I walked over to the folding chair where I had stashed my robe. Grabbing my bottle, gulped my water dizzily. The wad of cash in my hand was thick and substantial. It should have been enough to make me deliriously happy.
But I couldn't stop wondering about those three men. Shifters. They were different and fuck it, I wanted to know more. I had wanted to get to them, and instead they had left.
The burning desire cooled.
I felt like a failure.
I slid my vertigo-inducing heels off and listened to the crowd cheer for Cherry. I contemplating sitting on the side of the stage and watching her set, I mean, I wasn't above poaching some other's girl's signature moves, but instead I elected to go downstairs to my dressing room and get cleaned up. My part in the party was over.
The dressing area was eerily silent. I walked down the quiet hallway and found the last door on the left. My stage name was on the door under a gold star, just like I was a Broadway star. Sure, I was a stripper, but I was one of the best, and Moe treated me that way. I put my hand to the door and as I did, I heard a low sound, rumbling, like a voice from the other side.
I froze. Was someone in my dressing room? That couldn't be right. Security wouldn't let anyone back here.
I heard the rumbling again. It almost sounded like...growling.
A brief flash of understanding went through my head and was gone. I shook my head to clear it and then pushed open the door.
My heart nearly leapt out of my chest when I saw them, the men from the table, sprawled casually in my dressing room like they owned the place.
I stopped short and my hands went to my bare breasts. I tugged my robe closed, realizing belatedly that I was naked other than a scrap of G-string. And they were all clothed.
"What are you doing in my dressing room?" I demanded, keeping my voice angry even though my heart nearly beat out of my chest in excitement. The feel of their eyes on my skin was double the pleasure it had been onstage. Up close and personal, it was like facing the sun.
The one closest to me unwound himself from his seat on the couch. As he stood, my jaw slackened. My dim view of him out in the audience did not do him justice at all.
Chestnut hair shot through with highlights of burnished gold tumbled down to his jawline. A light sprinkling of stubble along his cheek drew the eye up to his swooping cheekbones and angled, amber eyes. He was tall, so much taller than me that I practically had to crane my neck to see his face. I was eye level with his shoulder, his broad, muscular shoulder that was strapped underneath the overtaxed fabric of his crisp white dress shirt.
"I would have thought you'd be happy to see us, Goldie," he rumbled, his voice definitely the sound I had heard outside the door. "You wanted our attention out there," he moved closer, and my lungs were instantly filled with his intoxicating scent. He tipped a finger under my chin to catch my eyes. "And you got it."
I swallowed hard. He was right, of course, but now that I saw them here in front of me, I felt like I was in way over my head.
"Who are you?" I demanded, barely able to keep my voice from shaking.
The golden haired man moved closer to me. I wanted to step away, I really did, but when his fingers brushed against my arm, I instead moved closer, my overheated body moving of its own accord. "You may call me Bronn," he rumbled again. "My clanmates," he gestured to the watching men, "are Dov and Greer."
"Who is who? You look so similar." It was true. They all had the same rough-hewn faces and towering figures. If I looked closely, I could only see a slight difference in the shade of their hair.