Author Charlie Richards

Giving love and imagination free reign


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Undercover Snake

Shifter's Regime: Book Five

Keeping the Peace: When a sensual shifter meets his mate in an undercover operative, he must learn the true meaning of accepting one’s mate.

Prescott is bored, lonely, and even a little jealous. While he feels bad about that last one, he can’t do anything about it. Everyone in his flock have found their mates, and they’re so lovey-dovey Prescott wants to gag. It wouldn’t be so bad if he could go out and search for his own mate. Unfortunately, due to the unrest in the shifter community and his flock living with a councilman, the estate is on lockdown. Tired of it, Prescott sneaks out and heads to a new dance club. He intends to dance and get laid, but what he discovers is so much more.

When Nkosi Akintola follows Prescott into the men’s room, they realize they’re mates. As much as Nkosi wishes he could bond with Prescott that instant, he can’t. He’s a black mamba shifter on an undercover mission, and timing is critical. As a member of the rogue shifters trying to topple the Shifter Council, Nkosi knows his duty must come first, even before his mate. After giving Prescott the information Nkosi has gathered, he takes the wood duck shifter home.

Once Nkosi returns from his mission an injured man, will Prescott forgive and accept him?

Excerpt - Undercover Snake

The excerpt below contain explicit adult language and sexual content.

By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age.

If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.

   

    Well, fuck a duck.

    Nkosi Akintola nearly smirked as the expression popped into his head. It seemed that, per Fate, he would be doing that very thing very soon. While he’d never met the shifter standing in the human’s arms, he knew he shared his spirit with a wood duck.

    Too bad it’s really bad fucking timing.

    “Do you know him, Prescott?” the human asked, his dark brows furrowing.

    Right. My mate is still being held by another man.

    Thinking quickly, Nkosi tried to decide the best way to extricate Prescott from the other man’s arms without bruising his mate’s pride or embarrassing him. His soon-to-be lover beat him to the punch.

    “Um, yeah, Baden. He’s an ex,” Prescott told the human dressed in a polo shirt with the club’s logo on it. “We, uh, broke up, and so, um…” He seemed to run out of steam.

    The human, Baden, nodded slowly, eyeing Nkosi. Then he returned his focus to Prescott and grinned. “Lookin’ for a rebound fuck, Pres?” He waggled his eyebrows as he smirked. “You know I’m happy to fill that slot.”

    Prescott’s cheeks darkened, his embarrassment clear. He even appeared to be trying to step backward, but Baden had tightened his grip.

    Baden frowned at Nkosi. “So what are you doin’ here, man?” He rubbed his left hand up Prescott’s side. “Regrettin’ what ya lost?”

    Nkosi debated the merits of breaking the human’s wrist. His black mamba hissed in the back of his mind. His snake would rather bite him and poison him.

    Taking a deep breath, Nkosi clenched his hands. “I’m—”

    The stall at the end of the bathroom opened, and two men stumbled out. Spotting them, they paused, but only for an instant. The bigger man wrapped his arm around the smaller and grinned, shrugging unabashedly. The smaller man giggled.

    Once they’d left, Nkosi turned back to Prescott. “Pres, I’m sorry I told you I wouldn’t come out, yet. It was a mistake.” Seeing Prescott’s brows shoot up, he hoped the wood duck shifter caught on swiftly enough. “The last two weeks without you have been hell. I’ll tell my parents, my friends, my coworkers. No more hiding.” Stepping closer, Nkosi took Prescott’s hand. “You’re worth it, my love. You’re worth anything.”

    While Nkosi knew his smile was a little hard, he couldn’t help it. The asshole human still hadn’t released his mate. He tipped his chin toward the guy.

    “Even if I hadn’t gotten here in time to stop you from fucking behemoth here, I’d still want you back.” Nkosi needed to get Baden to remove his hands. “Please?”

    Prescott nibbled his lower lip as he nodded. Then he turned to Baden. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a cock-tease, but—”

    Baden chuckled softly as he released Prescott. “Aww, no worries, man.” He winked before grinning widely, his expression relaxed. “After a pronouncement like that, how could you say no?” Gripping the door handle, Baden paused and turned back to them, pointing at Nkosi. “If your man doesn’t follow through, you come back and find me, Pres. I’ll kick his ass for you.”

    Prescott’s blue eyes were twinkling as he barked a laugh. “Thanks, Baden.”

    “That won’t be necessary,” Nkosi stated as he slotted up beside Prescott and wrapped his arm around his waist.

    With a shrug, Baden left the room.

    Nkosi lifted his free hand and cradled Prescott’s jaw. Tipping his head forward, he used his hold to pull his mate’s head down. He couldn’t wait an instant more to taste the shifter who smelled so divine.

    Prescott didn’t disappoint him.

    The second their lips touched, Nkosi’s mate opened to him. He swept his tongue into the other shifter’s mouth, tasting and mapping. His duck’s flavor exploded across his tongue—sweet and masculine.

    While Nkosi was the smaller of them, he pressed Prescott against the bathroom wall and dominated the kiss. He sucked on his tongue and nipped at his lips. Using his hand in Prescott’s hair, he guided his chin to the side, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

    Nkosi didn’t stop tasting Prescott until breathing became urgent.

    As soon as their lips parted, Prescott gasped, “Who are you?”

    Right. Who am I?

    Shit.

    Sighing, Nkosi took in Prescott’s lust-blown blue eyes, his kiss-swollen lips, and the beautiful flush on his tanned cheeks. His hair was disheveled from his fingers, and he peered at him with a heavy-lidded gaze.

    Every fiber of Nkosi’s being urged him to drag Prescott into the far stall, to fuck him senseless, and to bite him, bonding them forever.

    But he couldn’t.

    “I’m Nkosi Akintola,” Nkosi told his mate. “And this is bad fucking timing.”