Home for the Holidays

by Terry Spear

  Turning, she smiled and handed him the beer just as her cell phone rang. Thinking the call was from one of her sisters, she looked at the caller ID, and her jaw dropped. Bill Weaver. Her ex-boyfriend. The guy who had a heated fight with her when she told him she’d sent a wolf to prison. Why in the world was he calling her now?

  He’d better not believe he could get into her good graces and they could date again. Maybe he thought she was still living in St. Augustine. But his call sure put a damper on things tonight. All she could think of was Rollins—putting him in prison and finally telling Bill about it.

  She ignored the phone and got herself a glass of ice water.

  “Out-of-area call?” Peter asked.

  She smiled and took his hand and led him into the living room, not about to tell him about Bill or make up a story. She’d barely made it to the sofa when her phone rang again. Trying to hide her annoyance, she set her glass of water on the coaster on the table. “Be right back.” She’d kept her tone lighthearted to mask her irritation.

  She strode to the kitchen and checked her phone. Bill was calling again. Damn him. She turned the phone off, then rejoined Peter in the living room.

  Peter was still standing, unopened beer in hand. “Is it a crank caller?”

  “No.” She was used to Peter wearing his sheriff’s hat and being ready to take anyone to task who was causing trouble, so she should have known he would be ready to take care of someone who was bothering her. “Can you unzip my dress?”

  Peter’s brows rose and his mouth curved up slightly, a spark of interest lit in his darkened amber eyes.

  She smiled. “I had to call Laurel to zip me up. That’s the trouble with this dress. If you leave before I take it off, I’ll have to sleep in it or have her come over and help me out of it. I just want to throw something on that’s more comfortable to relax in.”

  “No trouble at all.” He quickly set his beer on the table. He rubbed his hands together as if he were eager to undress her.

  She smiled.

  His smile was on the wolfish side. “My hands are cold.” He carefully unzipped her dress while she held on to the bodice so the dress wouldn’t slip down.

  He pulled her hair aside and then shifted his hands to her shoulders, caressing, his mouth nuzzling her neck. She loved his gentleness and thought she ought to wear strapless dresses around him more often. He moved his hands around to cup her breasts still covered by the satiny fabric, his mouth pressing kisses against her neck and shoulders.

  Then he slid his hands down her hips. “Hmm, Meghan.”

  He turned her around and slipped the dress down her body and over her hips. She quickly rested her hands on his shoulders to keep her balance and stepped out of the dress. He carefully set it over a chair as if he was afraid to wrinkle the garment. Then he turned to look at her underwear—strapless bra, lace panties, lace garter belt, all in red, and stockings.

  “Man, oh, man.” Peter breathed out.

  She smiled at him. He pulled her into his arms, his hands combing through her hair, his mouth capturing hers. They locked lips, their bodies rubbing hotly against each other, sharing their pheromones, working up the urge to mate. They couldn’t have consummated sex, or they’d be mated wolves. Forever. So they had been careful not to go too far, but she wanted him in her bed tonight. She wasn’t sure he wanted to go that far, but then again, he seemed ready and willing.

  “I need to slip into something more…comfortable,” she said.

  “Do you need my help?”

  “Yeah.” Not really, but she was ready to take this further. She grabbed his hand and headed for the stairs. Once they reached her bedroom, he didn’t hesitate to take charge.

  He took hold of her shoulders, then caressed the swell of her breasts with his mouth. He unfastened the bra and tossed it on the bed. She savored the feel of his mouth and warm breath on her flesh.

  She briefly thought of how she should tell Peter about Rollins, the man she’d put in prison, but she didn’t want to ruin this for them now. When had she become such a coward? Since she didn’t want to lose him, that’s when.

  Peter slid his hands down her sides, past her garter belt. He began unfastening her stockings, kissing her legs as he went while she combed her fingers through his hair. He stripped off her stockings and garter, but before he could pull off her panties, she began undressing him.

  It wasn’t as though they hadn’t seen each other tons of times while stripping to shift. But the setting and the reason they were undressing put a whole other spin on the situation.

  Meghan pulled his plaid shirt out of his jeans and unbuttoned it, then opened it so she could run her palms over his sculpted abs, his smooth skin, and his hard nipples. Right before she kissed and licked and gently nibbled on them.

  Peter’s heartbeat had ratcheted up several notches. His breathing was ragged, his hands stilled in her hair. She loved that she could do that to him.

  He hurried to unbutton his sleeves and then yanked off his shirt and dropped it on the floor. He pulled her in for another close encounter of the sexy kind, his naked chest pressed against hers, their tongues tangling. He slipped his hands under her bikini waistband and cupped her buttocks.

  She moaned, feeling his now-warm hands cupping her naked flesh. His erection was swelling beneath his jeans, and she stepped back to unfasten his belt. He quickly sat down on the bed to remove his boots and socks, and then dispensed with his jeans. Loving the way his black boxer briefs hugged his rigid cock, she ran her hand over it, smiling when she made it jump.

  She figured he wouldn’t go any further if she didn’t initiate things, waiting for it to be her call, so she pulled down his boxer briefs, freeing his rigid cock surrounded by dark, curly hair. He quickly slid her panties down her legs before she changed her mind. Which made her smile. She was not changing her mind.

  Then they climbed into her curtained bed and were kissing all over again. She knew she was being reckless in not waiting until she’d told him what she’d done, but a part of her hoped he wouldn’t be able to give her up if he could feel the sexual draw between them, not to mention all the rest that they enjoyed with each other—the times when they relaxed and visited, the wolf runs they had, even the skiing. She loved how he could take to task the wolves who were doing wrong, and yet be just as sweet as could be when it came to helping others. She couldn’t think of anything she didn’t like about him.

  He slipped his hand between her legs and began to stroke her, gently at first, but she covered his hand with hers and pressed his fingers harder against her swollen and sensitive clit so he was touching her in a way that made a difference, fast, pushing her toward the heavens. She felt like a bird in flight headed for the moon, her breathing labored, her heart beating hard. He kissed her mouth, licking her lips and touching his tongue to hers.

  She swept her hands down his back, feeling the tension in his muscles as he worked her to the top. She felt the end coming, his strokes harder, faster, as she moaned with pleasure. And then she couldn’t hold on to the rush of orgasm as it hit her all at once, her body thrumming with ecstasy in the aftermath.

  Taking a moment to catch her breath, Meghan smiled up at him with what she was sure was a totally satiated look and then took charge of him. He was ready as she pushed him onto his back and began to stroke his cock, up and down, kissing his mouth as he ran his hand through her hair cascading over his chest.

  She kept stroking and kissing him, thinking she’d be the one to make him come next, but he moved onto his side so he could reach between her legs and began trying to coax another climax out of her. He was her dream lover. Now she wished more than ever that she’d told him the truth about Rollins. She couldn’t help but think about it, because she wanted to pull Peter on top of her right now and tell him to do it. To mate her, because she loved everything about him. To push his cock into her and to shatter her i
nto a million pieces, only this time inside her.

  Thinking about it, she’d slowed her stroke on his cock, and he placed his hand on hers to make her go faster. She smiled and obliged. But he was stroking her slowly, slipping his fingers between her feminine lips, then stroking her again. Their bodies tensed as if he was ready to come, like she was. And then the climax stole her thoughts and she cried out, feeling the orgasm ripple through every inch of her being, and he groaned with release.

  For a few seconds, they just lay there, feeling the moment, and then he pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head, just holding her close against his hot body, not saying anything.

  Why hadn’t he just asked her to mate him? She knew why she was reluctant. But why was he?

  She thought maybe he might even stay the night, but then again, he couldn’t without everyone in town thinking they’d mated if they saw his car parked at her place all night.

  Her landline rang, and she turned her head sharply to look at it. She couldn’t see the caller ID from the angle the phone was sitting. She could hardly jump out of bed and look, but if it was Bill and he’d found her home phone number…

  The unanswered call went to voicemail. Oh my God, no! If it was Bill, no telling what he’d say, or how Peter would view it. Talk about an ice-cold wet blanket thrown on their little party!

  Meghan quickly got out of bed and disconnected the phone from the outlet before the caller could ring her any further. How suspicious did that look? That some unknown male, she assumed Bill, was calling her this late at night—and she didn’t want to answer it? Not when Peter was here. Naked in her bed.

  She. Could. Kill. Bill.

  She didn’t even know what to do next. She knew as soon as she turned around, Peter would be wondering what the hell was going on, watching every move she made, seeing her every action and reaction. He’d already seen enough. Damn it.

  Peter had propped his arms behind his head, his eyes studying her. “Not a crank caller, I take it.”

  Okay, fine, she would tell Peter the whole story while he lay gloriously naked in her bed. She opened her mouth to explain, but he got out of bed.

  “It’s not like we’re mated wolves,” he said, pulling on his boxer briefs.

  What? Peter couldn’t think she was seeing anyone else. He’d smell the wolf on her, for one thing. But she never saw anyone outside the pack and not in a dating situation. He had to know that. Unless he guessed Bill was an out-of-town interest. She closed her gaping mouth and threw on a pair of pajamas.

  Peter finished dressing. “I guess I’d better leave before the pack gets the notion we are mated.” He smiled at her, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. She knew he was upset about the caller, but she was upset with Peter for thinking the worst of her. Even though he might still think that once he learned her secret.

  They went downstairs, and he grabbed his coat. She picked up her dress and heels, furious with Bill and disappointed with how the night had ended with Peter.

  Peter paused, then joined her and kissed her mouth lightly. “See you tomorrow for the snow sculpting?”

  She’d forgotten all about it. She was surprised he still wanted to do it with her. “Uh, yeah.” She managed a small smile for him.

  “Be sure to turn your phone back on in case you get an important call.”

  She frowned at him.

  “From me. You know.”

  “Sure.” Once Peter was gone, she’d give Bill a piece of her mind! She walked Peter to the door and let him out. “See you tomorrow.”

  He nodded, then walked through the crunchy snow to his car. She shut and locked her door and leaned against it. It had been the best night of her life, and the worst.

  Chapter 2

  Peter was trying not to make anything of the caller who was bugging Meghan, but he wanted to end the guy’s miserable life! At least he assumed the caller was a male or Meghan would have told him who it was or taken the call. Yet Peter couldn’t believe he’d gone so far with her before he’d told her what he needed to. He didn’t really believe she was seeing anyone, not with the way she was always available to see him. Certainly, he had never smelled any guy on her. He should have handled that so much differently. Shown he trusted her. At least they were still on for tomorrow, if she didn’t cancel on him after the way they had ended things tonight.

  He couldn’t go home to bed and sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, so he drove straight to his deputy and best friend CJ’s house. He had to talk to him about this and get it off his chest. He knew CJ would tell his mate, Laurel, what Peter had said, but he couldn’t stew about this all night. He needed to talk to someone.

  Their home was close by, so he drove over there, parked, and called CJ to let him know he needed to talk, hoping the deputy wasn’t in the middle of anything important with his mate. “Hey, CJ, can we talk?”

  “Yeah, sure. Is everything okay between you and Meghan?” CJ sounded concerned, and Peter assumed he thought Peter had told Meghan about his late wife and things hadn’t gone well.

  “No. But it’s not about that. I’m…at your house now. Can we talk?”

  “Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll just throw on some clothes and meet you at the door.”

  “Thanks, CJ. I owe you one.”

  “Hell, you were my sounding board when I was dating Laurel whenever I needed one. See you in a second.”

  Peter was glad CJ could spare the time to talk with him. A few minutes later, they were sitting in the living room, each drinking a beer, which reminded Peter that he never drank the one Meghan had gotten for him.

  “Laurel’s going to sleep,” CJ said.

  “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

  CJ smiled. “Your timing was spot-on.”

  Peter was thankful for that.

  “If it’s not about your late wife, what is it about?” CJ asked.

  “Meghan had some caller tonight. She wouldn’t answer her cell phone and turned it off when he called the second time. Then when…well, later, a caller, most likely the same one, tried to reach her through her landline. She wouldn’t answer the phone, and she unplugged it when he left voicemail.”

  “I’m assuming you didn’t handle it right.”

  “I didn’t. I was irritated that the guy was calling her, if it was a guy, and that she wouldn’t tell me what it was about. Hell, what was I to think?”

  “That some guy is harassing her?” CJ asked, brows arched.

  Peter let out his breath and took another swig of beer. “I asked if it was a crank caller, and she said…no. She didn’t explain who it was, though.”

  “So you assumed the worse. She’s seeing some other guy…but you know it’s not true. She couldn’t without you knowing about it.”

  Peter set his can of beer down on the coffee table and ran his hands through his hair, exasperated with himself. “I asked her if she was still going with me to create the snow-wolf sculptures tomorrow, and she said yes.”

  “Okay, so what’s the problem?”

  “I still didn’t handle it right, damn it. She knows I wasn’t happy about the caller.”

  “Which shows you care about her.”

  “Like hell it does. I should have brushed it off, taken her into my arms and kissed her good night, and acted like nothing was the matter.”

  “You didn’t kiss her good night?” CJ sounded worried now.

  “Hell. Yeah, I kissed her good night, but not like I should have. Like I really meant it and felt all the emotion I was pouring into it.” Unlike before that.

  CJ sighed. “Listen, you’ll get together tomorrow, you’ll clear the air, and everything will be fine. I take it you didn’t tell her about your late mate.”

  “Things got a little out of hand and…I couldn’t. Not then.”

  CJ laughed. “I heard about the red dress. Well, more
than heard about it. Some of the guys eating at the tavern shared the photo of you two. That’s some dress. I could see why you couldn’t resist her. You know she wouldn’t have worn it for you if she was thinking about seeing some other wolf.” CJ frowned. “Was it someone in the pack? I’d say we’ll just arrest his sorry ass and—”

  “No one from the pack. I’m sure of it.”

  “Hmm, maybe an old boyfriend. Okay, she wouldn’t take his calls, so that tells you something.”

  “Hell, yeah, I was there!”

  CJ chuckled and shook his head. “What if the roles were reversed and you got a call from an old girlfriend you’re no longer seeing and she’s dying to get with you to…well, renew the relationship? About that time, you’re kissing away on Meghan. What would you do? Answer the call? Ruin the moment with Meghan? Turn off your phone and deal with it once you and Meghan had said good night and you were alone?”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  “Of course I’m right. And damn it, Peter, tell her about your late wife and get it over with.” Then CJ smiled. “You feel any better?”

  “No, but I’m headed home, and I’ll give Meghan a call and apologize.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Peter and CJ rose from their seats, and CJ slapped him on the back. “Call me if you have any further issues tonight.”

  “Thanks.” CJ was right. If the roles had been reversed, Peter would have waited to deal with it.

  Then they said good night and Peter headed home, but as soon as he was in the car, he called Meghan, hoping she’d turned her cell phone back on and plugged in her landline.

  She answered the call on the first ring, and he thought that was a good sign—unless she was going to break up with him. If so, he would do everything he could to change her mind and make it up to her.

  “Hey, miss me already?” she asked, sounding sexy and sultry, and all he could think of was her wearing that beautiful red dress, and then out of it and wearing all that red lace, and then naked in his arms in bed.