It’s Wednesday? Awesome! Because I have a little teaser for you from my new WIP, something I’m calling…Trickster: All In. Yes, it’s a sequel to Trickster, and yes it stars Delaney and Mark, but this scene focuses on another coyote shifter and how he kinda sorta cutes his way into his human mate’s tent during a rainstorm.

Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!

Finishing his toilette by flashlight, Simon finally stripped down to a t-shirt and underwear and slid into his sleeping bag. He didn’t bother zipping it up, preferring to keep one foot out to regulate his body temperature. The rain drummed down on the tent fabric overhead but nothing dripped in, which was all he could ask for, really.

No. What I could ask for is someone to share my sleeping bag with. He’d eyed the other campers earlier, knowing they were doing the same to him, but none of them seemed to click. He resigned himself to a quick fantasy about Carlos the tour guide and was sliding his hand under his briefs waistband when something scratched at the tent’s zippered entrance.

Simon yanked his hand free and sat up. No, it can’t be. I’m not that lucky.

“Who’s there?” he called.

Another quick scratch. He fumbled for the flashlight and clicked it on, pointing the beam at the tent flap. Now he could see the fabric bulge gently as someone or something poked at it.

If it was another camper, they’d say something, wouldn’t they? Or are they—is he—trying to be discreet?

Feeling a flicker of hope, Simon scrambled out of his bag and crawled to the tent flap. Yanking the zipper up, he peered into the night. “Carlos?”

A whine answered him. He moved the flashlight beam, catching a glimpse of bedraggled fur. The creature flinched from the light but stayed where it was.

Simon stared out at the—yes, it was a coyote. What the hell was it doing pawing at his tent? And now that he’d opened the damned flap why wasn’t it attacking? More to the point, why was he just kneeling there staring at it?

The coyote just stood there, drenched by the downpour. It cocked its head to the side and whimpered.

“Shoo!” Simon hissed, waving a hand at it. “Go away.”

It whimpered again, then shivered. It looked, in a word, pitiful.

Oh, no. No, you are not going to be an idiot and do what I think you’re going to do. That’s a wild animal and perfectly capable of taking care of itself. You are not going to open the damned flap even wider and—

He lurched back just in time to avoid being drenched as the coyote shimmied, dispersing the rain from its coat. Only then did it slink into the tent. He could have sworn that the damned animal sighed in relief. All right, so it’s a courteous coyote. You’re still an idiot.

It was a popular campground, he reasoned fiercely as he dug around for his discarded clothes. Campers probably fed the local wildlife all the time, semi-domesticating them. The coyote simply wanted to get in from out of the rain. It wouldn’t hurt him.

He hoped.

Pushing the discarded clothes into a rough oval shape, he reluctantly laid his spare towel over it. “There. That should keep you warm,” he muttered. “Just don’t bite me, all right?”

The coyote climbed into the nest, turning around a few times in canine fashion before settling down in a curl, nose tucked under a bottle brush tail. It sighed again, then relaxed. All right, then. It’s going to sleep, which is what you should be doing as well. I’m sure it’ll wake you up when it wants to go out in the morning. If it doesn’t rip your throat out in your sleep, that is.

Cautiously, Simon slid back into his sleeping bag and curled on his side, watching the coyote. Yes, definitely an idiot.

****

The rain was still pattering on the tent canvas when Simon woke with a warm body wrapped around him. It stirred and muttered something unintelligible, shifting against him.

Something hard and warm poked his thigh. Still mostly asleep, he ran his hand up and over a muscled flank, sliding inwards. The cock wasn’t overlong, but nicely thick and veiny from the feel of things. The man in his arms moaned as he teased the silky flesh, stroking it in a loose grip.

He was about to try shifting onto his side so that he could bring his own cock into play when the other man stiffened, jerking away. That woke him up fully, and Simon found himself staring at a stranger.

An absolutely adorable stranger, with green eyes, kissable lips, and tangled dark hair that made him look like a sleepy cherub if a cherub could have morning stubble. A stranger that he would have immediately gravitated to if he’d seen him on the bus. How in God’s name did I miss him?

“Oh,” Simon said, momentarily nonplussed. “Um…good morning?”

The man gaped at him, then did the most extraordinary thing. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath through his nose.

Green eyes popped open again, frantic. “Oh, God, I was right,” the man moaned. “Oh, shit!”

Simon didn’t think he smelled too badly. “Is there a problem?”

The man stared at him. “Is there a problem?” he croaked. “Is there a problem? Oh, Jesus Hashimoto Christ, this can’t be happening.”

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