The Wolf and His Wife

by Penelope Sky

  “Maverick?” Kent pressed me into an answer.

  I took another drink and let the booze burn my throat. “Sure.”

  I walked in the door late that night and headed to the kitchen. I grabbed a glass from the pantry and filled it with water. After all the booze I’d had, I needed something pure. I let the water drip down my throat and cleanse the alcohol from my blood.

  Abigail revealed herself from the other side of the room, her hair in a braid with pajamas on her body. She could be dead asleep, but if she knew someone was in the kitchen, her eyes popped wide open. “Long night?”

  I finished my glass of water then left it on the counter next to the sink. “A bit.”

  “Can I make you something?”

  “No. Not hungry.” I’d sat at the bar and listened to the brunette drone on about whatever she was talking about. When she grabbed my thigh, I pulled away. When she tried to kiss me, I rejected her on instinct. Kent went home with the blonde, and I left the bar alone.

  Abigail kept watching me. “Arwen came home not too long ago. She’s probably still awake.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Abigail knew my marriage was bogus. It was just an arrangement to get what I wanted—what my father wanted. But Arwen had obviously charmed Abigail just like she did with everyone else.

  “It’s rare for you to come home alone with scotch on your breath…that’s all.”

  Only Abigail could talk to me like that. Anyone else would be fired. But I needed her way too much to ever let her go, so she got away with pretty much everything. “Just wasn’t my night.”

  “Or maybe it was.” With a knowing look in her eyes, she gave me a smile. Then she walked out of the kitchen to let me think about what she’d just said.

  It didn’t take me long to ponder her meaning. I came home alone because I wanted to be alone. If I hadn’t found a woman I liked at that bar, I could have just gone to another. But the urge to find a woman for the night had disappeared. Why search for something you already had?

  I left the kitchen and headed upstairs to the second landing. When I reached the top, I ran into Arwen.

  In a nightdress with her face washed clean of makeup, she stilled next to the banister, clearly surprised to bump into me on her journey. Her eyes took me in with her guard up, but slowly, she turned docile. “You’re home late.”

  “I was out with Kent.”

  “Yeah…I can smell the scotch from here.”

  “I always smell like scotch.”

  She smiled slightly. “And you’re alone… That’s unusual.”

  I wanted to tell her that I didn’t find anyone I liked, that I searched but was unable to find anyone that interested me. But that would be a lie, and I didn’t have the energy to weave a bullshit story. The reason I was alone was because I wanted to be alone. She knew it…I knew it. “What are you doing?”

  “Going to the kitchen.”

  “Thirsty?”

  “No…just wanted a snack. I never eat before a performance because I want to look as slim as possible, but then I’m so hungry afterward.”

  I had no idea why, but I found that cute. “Want me to make you something?”

  “No,” she said with a laugh. “I was just going to rummage through the fridge until I found something good.”

  “I’ll come with you. I could use a snack too.”

  We returned to the kitchen, and she opened the fridge and let the light fill the dark room. “Hmm…there’s lots of options here.” Her nightdress was short and showed her sexy legs in the light from the refrigerator. With one hand on her hip and her head tilted to the side, she examined the contents. “Leftover ravioli…that looks pretty good.”

  Abigail probably knew we’d returned to the kitchen, but she didn’t appear to offer to cook anything so she could leave us alone. I watched Arwen pull out the container and set it on the counter. “Want to split it?”

  I wasn’t hungry. “Sure.”

  She put it in the microwave for a minute before she pulled it out again. She set it on the counter and grabbed two forks. She put one ravioli into her mouth and moaned like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. “Cheese ravioli…so good.”

  I put one in my mouth, unimpressed because I was used to Abigail’s culinary perfection. “How was the opera?”

  “Good. Uneventful.” She kept eating, standing with me at the counter. “How was Kent?”

  “Good. Uneventful.”

  She chuckled. “I doubt you would spend so much time with him if that were the case.”

  “We talked about my father…shit like that.” Sometimes, we had a good time. Sometimes, we talked about serious stuff.

  “That sounds like a deep conversation.”

  “He told me I should kill my father…but I can’t do it.” I set my fork down and leaned against the counter as I watched her continue to eat. I loved the way her plump lips parted as she slipped the ravioli inside. Her mouth was sexy, regardless of what she did with it.

  “There’s still hope.”

  I shook my head. “I really don’t think there is.” My father had threatened to kill me several times now, even though once was already enough. “But it’s hard for me to forget that he’s my father…the person who taught me to ride a bike and become a man. I have to remember that’s not who he is anymore, but there’s something deep inside me that believes he might change.”

  “He might…”

  I shook my head again. “It’s not gonna happen.”

  She took another bite then watched me with sad eyes. Even without makeup, she was stunning. With that thick hair and bright eyes, she always had the appearance of a doll. She set her fork down and returned the lid to the container. “I’m sorry…” She moved in front of me and placed her hands on my chest. “You don’t deserve to go through this… I wish I could fix it.” Her eyes looked at her hands against my chest, her fingertips feeling my hard torso through my shirt. She slowly lifted her chin to meet my gaze, her eyes still sympathetic.

  Despite all the times I was a dick to her, she still cared about me. She felt my pain, carried my burden. She needed me when times got tough for her, but she always reciprocated that support. Her words seemed so genuine, I could actually feel it in my heart.

  She continued to watch me, looking like a dream as the moonlight entered through the windows. Her eyes sparkled, no matter what, even if there wasn’t a single light shining from the ceiling. Her eyes were focused on me, two diamonds set in a beautiful face.

  My hands moved around her waist, and I pulled her closer to me, bringing our foreheads together. I squeezed tighter, feeling her petiteness through the thin silk of her dress. I could feel the contours of her body so easily, like there was nothing separating us at all.

  She closed her eyes and moved her hands to my arms, her fingertips gripping my bare skin. Her breathing picked up like she knew exactly what was going to happen next.

  I was hard in my jeans, hard for the first time that day. The women at the bar did nothing for me, not like this woman did. Her beauty was unparalleled, her sexiness was scorching. My hands slid to her perfect ass, and I squeezed it.

  She moaned because she loved it when I did that. She loved it when my manly hands squeezed her so tight.

  My fingers bunched up the material of her dress until her ass poked out of the silk. In just a simple white thong, her creamy skin always looked so delicious. My mouth moved to hers, and I planted a gentle kiss on her lips, my cock stirring in my jeans the second we made contact.

  She breathed hard into my mouth, like it was the first time we’d ever kissed.

  My hand slid into her hair, and I kissed her in my kitchen, kissed her like we were alone in my bedroom. My mouth turned aggressive instantly, devouring her lips like they were my favorite dessert. My other hand moved down her ass and between her legs, my fingertips finding her clit through her panties. I rubbed the area hard, making her gasp in my mouth when her nerves were set on fire.

  I could feel the
moisture on my fingertips already.

  “Maverick…” Her hands moved under my shirt and felt my chiseled physique, her fingers sliding into the grooves of my abs. She wanted me so much, was so undeniably attracted to me. She told me I was the best she’d ever had, that I was a real man.

  That was a compliment coming from a woman like her.

  She undid my jeans and let them slide to the floor before she pulled my shirt over my head. She pulled off her own panties next but left her silky dress in place.

  I lifted her onto the kitchen counter and moved between her thighs, my lips still kissing hers. My cock hung in the air, dripping wet and throbbing. I’d been depressed just moments ago, but now I was more aroused than I’d ever been. My balls were so tight with eagerness.

  I grabbed a condom from my pocket and rolled it down to my base.

  Her arms hooked around my neck, and she breathed against my mouth as she felt me slowly inch inside her. My large head stretched her apart as it entered her tightness. Then it sank farther and farther until I was balls deep.

  She sighed into my mouth, her body full of a big dick. “Yes…”

  I held on to her ass and scooped her into my arms so I could pound into her. I’d never fucked a woman in my kitchen, but it was better than any fantasy I could have dreamed of. The most beautiful woman in the world was taking me, enjoying me, and asking for more.

  I watched her stunning reaction, watched her lips part with a sexy moan that sounded like the loveliest music. Her pussy was so fucking wet that I wished this piece of latex weren’t separating us. I wished I could feel her skin-to-skin, come deep inside her, and watch it drip between her thighs.

  She lay back against the counter and lifted up her dress so I could see her tits.

  I grabbed her hips and pulled her into me as my hips thrust to slide farther inside her. Her tits shook with every push, her nipples hard and sexy. I closed my eyes because it felt so good to fuck this woman. Anywhere, anytime, it was the best I’d ever had. My balls tightened toward my body as I prepared to explode with arousal, to fill her cunt with everything I had. Her moans bounced off the tiles and the hard surfaces, amplifying its volume. Her hands latched on to my wrists, and she bit her lips as she tried to stop herself from screaming.

  Why would I want someone else when I could have this?

  When I could have my wife?

  9

  Arwen

  With legs made of lead and a rapid heartbeat that wouldn’t slow down, I rounded the corner to the rehab center and found Caspian sitting in one of the booths. A hot cup of coffee sat in front of him, the rising steam visible this far away. An obscure painting was on the wall, and most of the dining area was empty with the exception of a few guests.

  There he was…my father-in-law.

  His hands were joined together in his lap, and he stared straight ahead, his shoulders wide and his eyes unblinking. He had dark hair like his son, though there were sprinkles of gray within the locks. But his eyes were exactly the same, pools of espresso. His facial structure was similar to his son’s, innately masculine. Maverick must have inherited his softer features from his mother, making him so handsome.

  There was still time to turn around and call the whole thing off.

  But seeing him there gave me some hope. Lily had called and asked him to come…and he did.

  He wasn’t completely heartless after all.

  I entered the dining room and caught his attention. His eyes flicked to me, and with a predatory gaze, he watched me approach his table. Just like Maverick, he never gave the impression he was surprised or caught off guard. Like he’d been expecting me the entire time, he was calm.

  I approached the table, my heart beating like a drum. I slid into the booth and sat across from him, his bold eyes boring into mine as if they could cut right through me. His wrath was palpable, his desire for murder practically audible. Maverick was nowhere nearby. He was probably at the office at the house, nowhere close enough to help me. I suddenly felt like an unguarded sheep, not nearly as secure as I was when my wolf was keeping his eyes on the perimeter. I was really on my own…and I felt it.

  Caspian stared at me with unblinking eyes. He took in my features with a coldness that felt like ice. He slowly moved his hands to the surface of the table, showing me that he didn’t have a weapon in hand. He leaned forward slightly, trying to intimidate me with his glare.

  I got the attention of the waitress. “May I get a coffee?”

  Caspian’s glare deepened at the way I’d brushed him off.

  The hot mug was placed in front of me.

  Just to be obnoxious, I took a drink.

  Caspian didn’t move.

  I set the mug down and regarded him again, coldly but still playful.

  “You’re a stupid girl. My son is doing everything he can to protect you, and you’re sneaking around behind his back. He should kill you for that kind of disobedience.”

  “Disobedience?” I cocked an eyebrow. “I’m a woman—not a dog.”

  “You’re a bitch if you ask me.”

  Just when I thought this man couldn’t get worse, he raised the bar. “I didn’t arrange this meeting so you could insult me. I didn’t arrange it so I could insult you either—even though I should.”

  “Then what do you want? Other than a death wish?”

  I wanted him to be a good person, but that didn’t seem possible. “First of all, I wanted to say I’m so sorry about your wife…”

  The apology tugged at his iciness very slightly. He couldn’t hide the surprise from spreading across his face—not this time. He was tense and prepared for an attack or an insult. Instead, he got sympathy.

  “Maverick tells me she was a wonderful person and mother… I’m sorry that all of you had to lose her. She didn’t deserve what happened to her, and I’m glad Ramon died a terrible death.”

  Now his face was stoic. “If you really meant that, you wouldn’t have interfered.”

  “I do mean it. But I don’t think his wife and daughter deserved the same fate.”

  “We can argue about this all day, but I won’t change my mind. He raped and killed my wife. I should have done the same to his.”

  “Torturing and killing him was sufficient.”

  “Not to the man who was married to her,” he said coldly. “Not to the man who raised a family with her, who planned to grow old with her and die with her. How dare you tell me what kind of justice I deserve! You’re a stupid girl who doesn’t know a damn thing.” His hands shook slightly as he fought the fury from taking over his body. His mind was so deeply enmeshed in his sick need for violence that he couldn’t think clearly at all.

  “My father did some shady things I had nothing to do with. Now some very bad men want to punish me for his crimes. I know how it feels to be the innocent person who’s guilty by association. I know how it feels to be scared because of something you didn’t even do. I know how those women felt…because I am those women.”

  His rage didn’t dissipate—not at all.

  “When I took them out of the barn, I kept Ramon in place. It would have been wrong for me to free him because he deserved the punishment you set for him. He even agreed. He was just grateful I’d saved his girls that he stayed voluntarily.”

  “Which makes your crime even worse,” he whispered. “Your father asked me for a favor, and I saved your ass. I gave my son to you, a man strong enough to keep the bastards away. This is how you repay me?”

  “Let’s not forget we made a deal—no one did any favors.”

  “Giving you a good husband is much better than giving me details about Ramon.”

  “But you accepted that offer and forced your son to marry a stranger.”

  He cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowed. “I don’t think my son has any complaints about that anymore.”

  I certainly didn’t. I came home to a man I respected and admired. I came home to a man I wanted to sleep with every night. He took care of me, kept me s
afe, gave me whatever I wanted. I’d hated my situation in the beginning—but now I knew I’d hit the jackpot. “Nor do I.”

  “I assumed. No other reason for you to risk your neck like this.”

  I was putting myself in danger, but the risk had been worth it. My interest wasn’t just in saving my neck. It was giving Maverick what he deserved. “Your son and daughter need you, Caspian. You’ve turned into a demon since you lost your wife. They need the man you used to be… They need a father.”

  “My children are both adults. They don’t need me anymore.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” I whispered. “I needed my father up until the day he died…and I still need him now. You need to drop these hostilities with Maverick and treat him with affection and respect.”

  “I will do so when he deserves it.” He kept his voice even, only his tone changing with his passion. To any onlooker in the room, we probably looked a father and daughter catching up over warm cups of coffee. In reality, a storm was building.

  “He’s your son—he deserved it from the day he was born.”

  His dark eyes shifted back and forth slightly as he looked into mine. “Maverick has forgotten where his loyalties lie. I asked him to kill you, and he refused. He’s made it clear that a nice ass is more important than family.”

  “I’m not a nice ass…” I was so much more than that. Maverick wouldn’t wage a war with his father over sex. “Your mind is unhinged, and you aren’t thinking clearly. You threatened to kill him several times before this happened—”

  “To straighten him out. He’s grown too soft for my taste.”

  This moment made me appreciate my father even more. He was wrong to make his mistakes, but he always loved me. He was always good to me. “Maverick tells me that you used to be different when your wife was still here. You were a good man…a good father. He hopes that version of you will come back someday.”

  It was the first time he didn’t have a reply. He lifted his mug and brought it to his lips for a drink, keeping his eyes on me.

  This meeting was a waste after all.