December 11, 2014

Forbidden Fruit by Taylor Brooks. An Z Pac Alpha Shifters Book.


Rourke Falco is single, lonely, and has no desire to even look for a mate. When his restlessness starts to take hold of him, he takes time away from the territory he works and live in. His hopes are that he may find some peace in the nearby blissful Unicyn Forest.

Ty Neston is a loner. When he becomes stricken with a problem that feels so good it is nearly painful, he escapes into the forest within the Sergin Valley.

Whether by luck or fate, Ty and Rourke cross paths with one another more than once. Ty is unable to deny his attraction for the Rourke and makes his move. Their uniting might have been fleeting if it hadn’t been for a fruit that Ty had brought along the way.

Unrelenting passions and unmistakable lust set the stage for these two as they test the boundaries of species while exploring the depth of their connection.


“Hello?” he called out, certain he heard something.

When he didn't hear a response, he repeated his call. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

Again he didn't hear a response. He waited for a moment, wondering if the noise would come again. When nothing came he wrote it off to the sounds of Zarantaria and continued on his path.

He was really looking forward to these few days off from work. He’d been working double time the past two weeks while Callen had taken some time off as well. The butcher shop he took over from his father had been busier than usual in these past several months and if things didn't steady themselves soon he was going to have to find additional help to run things. Neither he, nor Callen, could keep up with the pace they’d been running lately. The extra business was great. That part of it he couldn't complain over. It was the extra hours, lack of sleep, and complete nonexistent social life that bothered him the most.

Actually if he was going to be completely honest with himself, it wasn't the social life he lacked, nor needed. It was the physical contact, or lack thereof. It had nearly a year since he had been with another Spartician. He’d stopped counting the weeks and months once they’d gone into double digits.

At first he had assumed he was just going through a rough patch. He’d had a few mates in the past, ones that he would get together with occasionally. After a while he’d grown bored with them though and just stopped reaching out to them altogether. One of them still appeared to be available, but a couple of the others had seemed to settle down with one another. He had been sad that they’d moved on for only a few minutes when he realized that he wasn’t really upset about it at all. In fact, he was happy for them. They were great guys.

It was always expected—whether it be from tradition or just the way of their lives—that eventually they were to all settle down with just one Spartician. The choice of male of female was always theirs. Free will was important when choosing a mate, and while most always chose to be with a male, there were those few who chose the women of Zarantaria. Those were the exceptional men, the ones who allowed their kind to keep going on.

He’d always found it to be a cruel twist of fate that a majority of the men on Zarantaria preferred men, yet it was only with a female that they could reproduce children.

His father had been one of the latter. Choosing to spend his life with their mother had guaranteed his and his brother’s existence. His father had genuinely loved his mother. Unlike some of the men of Zarantaria who chose women for selfless reasons, his father’s had been completely selfish. Not a day went by that he didn't cherish every moment he’d had with their mother. He saw the same thankfulness in Tarek’s eyes every time he looked at Micah as well.

His brother’s relationship with Micah intrigued him. It was nice seeing them happy together. And he knew that he should be envious for the same type of relationship. For some odd reason, and one he couldn't quite explain, he wasn't envious at all. He knew their relationship was strong, and the kind of love that most of the single Zarantarians would hope for, but it just didn't appeal to him. There was something about spending his whole life with just one Spartician that seemed rather boring to him.

One of the reasons he had never settled down was because he bored so easily. Rourke had always needed adventure and excitement in his life. After so many times with one Spartician, he grew tired of them. Breaking up his physical interludes amongst several allowed him the variety he craved in a relationship.

As he finished taking the final steps from the main road to where it led out into the great wide open again, he heard a noise once again. This time it was distinctive. A footstep had landed on something, which had cracked from the pressure. Maybe it had been glass.

He turned back slowly, expecting to see someone standing there, but to his surprise he saw no one. He didn’t like games and even more so he hated being screwed with, which is exactly what he felt like someone was doing to him just then.

“Who’s there?”

No one answered, not that he was surprised. It just annoyed him all the more. “Look, I know you’re out there so you might as well show yourself. Unless of course you’d like me to call my brother, head of the oath keepers.”

Even though no one responded, Rourke couldn't ignore the eerie feeling that was coming over him. He felt as though he was being watched. Every part of his body screamed at him and he was suddenly on high alert. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck as his instincts began to kick in.

A vulnerability surrounded him in that moment and he suddenly felt very exposed standing out there on the desolate road all by himself. Turning back around, he quickened his pace. He may have been completely relaxed only minutes before, but now he was on high alert and couldn't ignore what his instincts were telling him. Someone was out there. Someone was watching him.

Rourke stared out into the woods. Trees blanketed the area around him and made the forest seem darker than it actually was. If someone was lurking out there, he would never see them from where he stood. He was going to have to venture out into that same darkness in order to find whoever was stalking him.

He had just been about to take that first step when goose bumps formed on his body and the eeriest sensation washed over him. Completely frozen, Rourke stood, waiting silently for what he felt was right behind him.

As he opened his mouth to speak, the words were stolen right from him when he felt a warm breath hit the back of his neck. He should have been terrified at that moment. He had no idea who this person was. Yet the heat he felt from that simple gesture gave him a completely different reaction.


He could feel it growing in himself just as he sensed it from his silent observer.

Rourke slowly turned, not entirely sure what he expected to see.

When he was completely turned around he saw a man who he didn't recognize. His hair was thick and black, cut short against his head. When his eyes met the person standing behind him, he was surprised to find that he was a few inches shorter than Rourke.

He looked down at him. With the flickering of the campfire Rourke could tell they were a magnificent blue, the kind that reminded him of the sea on a bright sunny day. Tonight they didn't appear bright, though. They looked dark and mysterious. They looked tortured.

“Who are you?” he asked.


“What are you…doing here?” Rourke asked, hesitating as he felt the warm breath of this man hit his bare chest.

“I want you.”

Rourke was taken aback by his response. It was so blatant, and he offered no apology for his blunt reply.

“You…want me?”

Ty leaned in and placed his head closer to the hollow between Rourke’s neck and shoulder. He inhaled deeply and let out a primal grumble.

“Do I know you?” Rourke asked, trying to ignore how turned on he was getting.


Whoever this man was, with his short answers and promiscuous behavior, it was obvious that he wasn't from these parts of Zarantaria. Rourke was certain he would have recognized him if he was. The combination of his hair, olive skin tone and gorgeous blue eyes left the mind whirling with possibilities. This man, the one who calls himself Ty, was not the type who would be easily forgotten. This was the kind of male Zarantarian that Rourke knew he could never forget.

“Where did you come from?” Rourke asked.

Ty shook his head and lifted his hand. He cupped the side of Rourke’s cheek and massaged his thumb across Rourke’s stubbles. “That doesn't matter.”

“What do you want?”

“I already told you,” Ty answered matter-of-factly and pressed his body into Rourke’s.

When Rourke felt the outline of Ty’s hard cock press against his upper thigh, his own dick swelled with excitement.

He had no idea who this man was. He had no idea where he came from. All he knew was, that no matter how crazy it seemed, he wanted Ty as well. He may regret it in the morning, but right then, in the moment, he was going to take what Ty was offering. He had to. His body begged him to.

Rourke reached down between their bodies and stroked the thickness that was poking at him. A small droplet of pre-cum leaked through Ty’s shorts, enticing Rourke all the more.

He pulled away and slowly rubbed at his own cock. Closing his eyes, he recalled just how long it had been since he’d been with another male.

“Fuck, you are beautiful,” Ty whispered. “Take off your jeans. I want to see you.”

Rourke opened his eyes, slightly embarrassed that he felt so vulnerable to this man. He always considered himself to be in charge whenever he dealt with sex, but at the present moment he felt like putty in Ty’s hands as he began unbuttoning his jeans.

Ty licked his lips and quirked up an eyebrow as he watched Rourke. The hunger Rourke saw in him only intensified his own. He had never minded casual interludes before, in fact he usually welcomed them.

This though, this was different. This man had come out of nowhere. Rourke had no idea who he was, where he had come from, or whether or not he’d ever see him again. For all Rourke knew he could be a figment of his over stressed imagination.

He didn't care either way. If this man was a damn mirage, Rourke was going to fuck him. He needed this. He wanted this. He wanted him.


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