Free Of Cocoa and Men 01 by Vic Winter Page A

and then walked out the door with a girl of all things. Now, Dayton didn’t have a problem with females -- he liked them well enough. She-wolves were fierce, proud and beautiful, and human women were generally far easier to get along with than the men -- not to mention often also beautiful and he could appreciate that esthetically like he would a painting, if he was into art, which he wasn’t -- but he wasn’t interested in mating with them. He wasn’t even interested in having sex without strings with them.
    Sex without strings with men, on the other hand, was something Dayton could get into. A lot. Oh sure, his kind mated for life, but there was no rule that said you couldn’t have a lot of really hot sex while you were looking for said mate.
    The pack didn’t like it, though. They didn’t like that he had a lot of sex with a bunch of different partners. They didn’t like that those partners were men. They didn’t like him having sex with human men. As he’d explained to them, though, Dayton knew that his mate was not only a male, but a human male at that, so if he was going to find the man, he needed to look among human men. He was pretty sure they disapproved of that more than any of the rest of it.
    It didn’t bother him, though -- it wasn’t like he spent a lot of time with the rest of his pack. He was far too much of the lone wolf type to enjoy spending a lot of time with a bunch of other wolves, all jostling for the best position next to Donald, their Alpha, who, quite frankly, Dayton didn’t like. The guy was too... beta wolfy.
    And if he had to endure one more lecture about finding a nice bitch and settling down with her, giving her a few litters, he was going to tear Donald’s throat out. Which would make him Alpha, and that was a job that he most definitely did not want. Not now, not ever. He’d never even dreamed of wanting it when he was a young pup cutting his first set of teeth.
    Nope, lone wolf was the way he rolled. And that’s the way he liked it. Well, lone and with a mug of hot chocolate in front of him.
    He put his nose in the air, scenting for it. There, faintly from the direction of the kitchen, came the smell he was looking for. It was only a few moments later before he heard the clink of the mug being set on the pass and Betsy came around from the kitchen to pick it up and bring it over to him.
    She plonked it down in front of him, and he held his breath a moment as it sloshed around, nearly spilling. He didn’t lose a drop, though, and he wrapped his hands around the warm mug, grumbling out his thanks. Her grunt was equally laconic and then she was gone again to settle behind the counter and shoot the breeze with the deputy. She’d forgotten the whipped cream, but now that he had the chocolate in front of him, he didn’t want to be disturbed and decided to cut his loses.
    Leaning over the mug, Dayton breathed in deeply, the chocolate steam filling his nose. Sweet with a hint of bitter and the very faintest underlying richness from the milk Betsy had made it with. That was almost as good as drinking it. Almost.
    He didn’t drink it right away, though. He wanted it to last. The diner would start to fill up around six thirty, seven in the morning, the smells and looks from the other patrons chasing him away, but until then he could keep his ass planted and not be bothered and slowly savor the sweet drink.
    It was probably too hot to drink yet, anyway; if he burned his tongue on the first mouthful, he wouldn’t be able to taste the rest of it and that would be a crying shame, not to mention a waste of decent hot chocolate.
    He kept blowing on the liquid in his mug, making the steam rise up, bringing with it the yummy scent over and over again. When it had cooled a little and he couldn’t wait any longer, he took a careful sip. Oh, perfect. He took a bigger mouthful, letting the taste slide over his tongue and coat the inside of his mouth.
    Managing somehow not to groan out loud, he