by Abby Knox
“I said you were my mate. But if you don’t want me, I’ll understand. It’s the wolf code.” He set her down on the sectional sofa and covered her legs with a soft throw.
“Ash, that’s very sweet but this wolf code thing is totally asinine and I will not allow it. And just to get my point across to you, I’m extending your consequences. No pussy until the wedding night. Forget about Lent.”
Ash shook his head and gritted his teeth as he spoke. “When is this big damn wedding, anyway?”
“June 15.”
“That’s four months away! You said a short engagement!”
She arched an eyebrow. “Darlin’, this is the shortest got-damn engagement of anyone in the DuChamps clan since the cavewomen used a bone needle to hand sew an A-line bodice out of woolly mammoth hide. You should be thanking your lucky stars I’m not meaning June 15 of next year.”
She could not read his face, but then he said, “Fine,” and set her down. I’ll go along with your ridiculous little games, Rosemary. But in the meantime, you’d better get in the bedroom, bend over that bed and hold on tight.
She happily sprinted to the bedroom with the wolf not far behind, her body was already aching for his touch.
Ash
This is insane, Ash thought, as he bent his woman over the bed. He couldn’t pop her cherry. He had accepted that. It had been a pretty hot little game, knowing they could do everything but that one thing until the wedding night.
But then, on top of that, he had agreed to restrain himself from touching or tasting his favorite part of her tight little body, as some kind of twisted punishment for hauling ass in the middle of dinner with her parents. He hadn’t loved that idea, but it was now mid-March and he could wait it out until after Lent, whenever that was.
But now, this crazy-ass fiancee of his had extended the pussy moratorium completely until the wedding night in June. But what could he do? Consider himself lucky that she allowed him access to her ass, which was way beyond what most guys could expect from a virgin fiancee.
He lubed her up and pushed in without warning. She gasped at his roughness with her at first, and then sighed. He scanned the soft skin of her back. Rosemary was leaning over the bed, looking back at him with the expression of an evil temptress. Accepting his cock in her ass may be the act of a beta female, but she knew she was really the one with the upper hand. Literally, as she was bringing herself to the edge with her own fingers.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
Fuck him, because her pussy, the part of her he really wanted — that part of her body that the wolf could home in on from ten miles away — was off limits to him for months.
She did have a beautiful ass, and cupping her breasts from behind was really freaking hot. But damn, the psychological torture of knowing what he was and was not allowed to do … it was too much.
It was too much for his psyche. Too much for his emotions.
Too much to hold back the wolf.
Shit.
He let out a growl as he thrust in.
She moaned, and the flesh on her back produced goosebumps at the sound of the beast.
Which further teased the primal forces that battled to get out. He felt the change beginning to happen. He felt every hair on his body stand on end and his mouth start to water.
The beast was coming out, and the beast was also … coming.
He closed his eyes and tried to breathe through it. But his Rosemary was egging him on with her own primal noises — a feline sort of chirping that comes as a cat waits for the right moment to pounce on its prey.
Ash opened his eyes at the moment of their mutual ecstasy and got the shock of his life.
It only happened for a flash, but he saw it happen. Both he and his girl had shape-shifted, right there in the bedroom. He was the wolf. His girl was the panther. And they were together. And then, before his eyes, they were human again.
This told him everything he needed to know about her little games. She was doing this to torment herself as well as him.
What a delicious, twisted little creature he was about to marry.
It was going to be a long slog torturous slog until June for the wolf.
Chapter 13
Rosemary
The next few months flew by.
There was so much work to do to get this wedding planned, she and Ash barely saw each.
Besides nailing down a venue, there were photographers, invitations, flowers, music, dresses and all kinds of details to secure.
As much as she enjoyed spending her time shocking her mother, Rosemary was relieved to be back in her good graces. Wedding planning was a bitch. Mama and Daddy’s credit cards made it a whole lot easier to get shit done.
Choosing her bridesmaids was the hardest part of the whole affair. She knew GiGi and Chastity had to be in the wedding. But there was just one missing part. She needed a maid of honor, and there was only one choice.
So, she girded up her courage and walked in to Lucky Penny Interior Designs.
“Hi,” she said, without any introduction or small talk. “Listen, I know we have our differences, and I know you have a little bit of a crush on Ash. But I want you to know I understand. It’s weird. I’m weird. The DuChamps clan is weird. We are all weirdos, you know? You’re pretty weird yourself, being a wolf and all. So, anyway, I know this is awkward but would you please consider not being mad at me for maybe three seconds and please come dress shopping with me today? Because you’re the one who brought Ash and me together and I want you to be my maid of honor. It just makes sense, right? And I think it will help everybody get over the whole panther/wolf shapeshifter thing if we show everybody how OK we all are with each other. What do you say?
Penny stared at her and blinked, mouth hanging open.
It took a moment to get a response, but finally, Penny relented. “Sure. Whatever I have to do to get you to stop talking about this in front of my client here, I’ll say yes.”
It was then that Rosemary finally noticed the little old lady who had stopped flipping through fabric samples to stare at Rosemary.
“OK so, I’ll go away now and come back later to pick you up for lunch,” Rosemary said, trying to recover after realizing she’d just spilled everybody’s secrets in front of a stranger who clearly thought she was nuts. “… at which time I will be medicated and not at all talking about wolves and things. Shapeshifting? What’s that? Haha…”
Later at lunch, Penny and Rosemary cleared the air.
“But listen,” Penny said, “It’s going to take some time for me to get used to your other cat friends hanging around. I know GiGi’s become kind of a fixture too, but I have my doubts. Especially after what happened after that first date of hers. First date!”
Rosemary shrugged and nodded. “We kitty cats like it rough, but everybody’s OK. You and GiGi can talk that out later. Because I don’t need any drama in my wedding party.”
Penny sighed. “This is all happening too fast. And by the way, it’s not about me having a crush on Ash. I don’t. It’s way bigger than that. But that’s another drama for another day.”
So much drama. So many hushed side stories in her own little wedding party. What could possibly go wrong? Rosemary accepted Penny’s explanation, as vague as it was, and after that, the pair of them shopped for dresses with Betsy, GiGi and Chastity. The rest of the bitch-ass cousins were having a bridal shower planning session somewhere, so it was just the five women.
At the end of the day they finally agreed, on a different color for each bridesmaid, reflecting the colors of the wedding: teal, silver, pink and purple. Rosemary acquiesced to her mother on a traditional white silk ballgown for the ceremony. But because she only had three bridesmaids — and because she looked really good in teal and didn’t want to give it to anybody else — she decided to keep the teal dress for herself.
“I looked washed out in white, I gotta have this teal dress for the reception,” Rosemary said as the four younger women giggled and strutted around the posh Uptown
dress shop in the biggest, boldest, most over-the-top ballgowns any of them had ever laid eyes on.
Rosemary looked at herself in the gilded mirror and sipped her complimentary champagne.”
Her mother sighed and shook her head. “Rosemary’s gonna do what Rosemary does.
The bride-to-be slammed the rest of the champagne back down her throat and said, “Why the hell not? Cats don’t actually have nine lives.I’ve got one life. One wedding. Who’s gonna tell me I can’t have two dresses?”
The final two months before the wedding flew by in a blur of parties, brunches and meetings with vendors. On top of that, she was wrapping up her first year as a Kindergarten teacher, which had its own set of logistics.
Chapter 14
Ash
The final months before the wedding dragged on like an eternity.
Due to wedding planning and work, Rosemary and Ash barely saw each other.
He poured himself into his work at the advertising firm and into coming up Plans A, B and C to get the stubborn old ass Lionel DuChamps to show up at the riverboat for the wedding.
But he and the rest of his buddies, Bobby, Vann and Gavin, had it all planned out. The minor confrontation between Lionel and Vann shortly after the engagement party had also helped in the cause. But there was no telling for sure what Lionel was thinking. That was probably what had made him such a damn successful businessman. He was totally unreadable.
Ash just hoped it would not go completely sideways.
On the big day, Ash was nervous as hell.
Not because he was having second thoughts. He was without a doubt ready to be with his bride. As far as he was concerned, they were already married. They were bonded by love. She was his and he was hers. The rest was just a party.
As Bobby helped him with his tie, he was grateful he didn’t utter the utterly grotesque phrase, “last chance.” Bobby just got him. He knew as well as Ash that there was no question this wedding was happening, with or without Rosemary’s father, and with or without Old Lady Boudreaux’s heirloom diamond.
Instead, Bobby said, “I’m proud of you, buddy. I love you like my brother. And I think Rosemary is fantastic. You’re a lucky man.”
Ash agreed. “I am lucky. So lucky that I’m about to take my chances with this ceremony and hope Rosemary doesn’t try to kill me.”
Bobby laughed. “Nah, she’ll understand. Hey, you had a job to do, and the pack gets it done one way or another, right?”
“Yes we do. I just wish I knew the outcome already so I wouldn’t feel like I was ready to vomit. Why couldn’t we all have been cursed with second sight instead of wolf genes?”
Bobby shrugged as if to say, it’s a little late to wish for that now. He patted his shoulder. “Well. Time to go upstairs.”
“I believe it’s called a deck. Were you raised in a barn?”
Moments later, Ash was standing under the flowered arch with the justice of the peace, as well as his Voudon priestess friend Lucy, who had agreed to take part in the ceremony. Ash, who had never been a fan of having a religious ceremony, had secretly made the priest go away with a donation to the abbey. He was not about to pretend to convert. He was going to marry his woman on his own terms.
He glanced over at Lucy and crossed his fingers.
From the gangway, beyond the ceremony space, Rosemary’s cousin Chastity, wearing the biggest purple ballgown he’d ever seen, gave him the thumbs up. He nodded back. Chastity then picked up a radio and spoke into it, quietly, so nobody could hear. Then she disappeared around the corner.
Soon, there was a slight commotion back there. Wedding guests were turning around in their seats, but nobody could see exactly what was happening from that vantage point. The only thing Ash could hear was a man’s voice booming, “What is the meaning of this?” And then Rosemary’s voice, on the verge of tears, “Daddy?” And then silence.
Ash’s heart stood still in his chest as he waited for what would happen next.
The string quartet struck up the processional and now was the moment Bobby would find out if his plan had worked or not. The only question was, was she going to be a blushing bride because she was so happy, or blushing because she was ready to spit fire.
But whatever was about to happen, he would ravage his Rosemary in his bed tonight either way.
Epilogue
Ten Years Later…
Ash
Rosemary is up to her old tricks again.
Dammit.
But I have to admit, I kind of like it.
Ash Boudreaux ran his hands through his hair and gritted his teeth as he read the text from his wife:
You are so busted. I’m issuing a punishment. No more Rosie pie for you for the next five days.
And don’t even think about pleasing the master of your domain by yourself. Mama and Daddy are taking the brood away for the weekend, and I don’t want you wasting any of your good stuff. Save that shit up, because I want another baby.
OK. There was a lot going on in this text.
First, Ash had to remember what exactly he had done now to earn himself a spot in pussy jail.
Then he remembered.
Last night he had been texting with his buddy Vann, who was currently sailing Southeast Asia with his wife. Vann had said that GiGi had hinted that maybe she would have liked a bigger wedding. Those two had been married in a small ceremony on the beach in the Bahamas, eager to get married quickly before the next travel show assignment. Ash had replied to Vann:
Consider yourself lucky. I could have done without Rosemary’s craziness around our wedding.
He realized then that Vann had shared this comment with GiGi, and GiGi, being a cousin who was more like a sister to Rosemary, had shared this comment with Rosemary.
Sure, Ash would have liked a shorter and less…abstinent…engagement. But, big picture? He regretted nothing. He looked around the family room of their six-bedroom home—with Legos strewn around the Oriental rugs and antique bookshelves filled with Pokémon cards next to first-edition classic tomes—and he couldn’t be happier. Ash Jr, age nine, had come along nine months after the honeymoon, and was at this moment outside doing semi-dangerous science experiments.
Ash stepped over some Legos and slid open the glass door of the family room that overlooked Lake Pontchartrain. “Junior, you need any help?”
“Wanna light the rocket for me?”
Ash went over and took the matches away from his oldest son.
“The teacher says I shouldn’t mess with fire by myself.”
Ash laughed. “You’re a Boudreaux. You were born knowing how to handle fire.”
Ash Jr. shrugged. “I know, but rules are rules.”
Reflecting on Rosemary’s text, Ash wondered if five days of abstinence was a lot to most married couples. He had no clue. He supposed he should be thankful he was getting nookie on a semi-daily basis.
Ash Sr. looked at his son and saw the sweet, crooked grin of Charlene Boudreaux. How he wished his kids could have known their paternal grandmother. She had been a beauty queen with an even more beautiful heart.
The rocket blasted off, and Ash Jr. cheered maniacally. Ash was grateful his kids at least knew Betsy and Lionel. Although Lionel was a royal pain in the ass, the old man was good to the kids.
Ash padded back inside the family room and spotted his oldest daughter, Rosie The Sequel (the family nickname for the oldest daughter, who was shaping up to be a replica of her mother), age seven, who was building Cinderella’s castle out of Legos. The twins, Leon and Beth, were five, and were currently sharing a beanbag chair and drawing on each other with washable markers. The youngest, Robbie, was two, and asleep on the floor on a pile of clean, yet-to-be-folded laundry.
So, she wants another little ankle-biter, does she? Good thing we have chicken-franchise money. Why the hell not? We’re still young. Mostly.
Ash retreated to the kitchen and poured himself a seltzer. He didn’t drink nearly as much whiskey since they started having kid
s, but he had to admit he wanted it more often lately. This house was pretty damn loud. And his little girls had screams that rattled his ears like nothing else could. The boys certainly gave the girls a run for their money in the screaming department sometimes, though.
And now Rosemary was getting the baby fever again. He downed the seltzer.
“Want some vodka with that?” Ash spun around. Of course, Rosemary had known exactly what he was thinking as soon as she’d arrived home from work. She was scary sometimes.
He laughed. “Kinda.”
Rosemary tossed her giant teacher tote bag on bench in the huge mud room and kicked off her heels into the pile of Stride Rite sneakers and flip-flops. There were hooks for bags and baskets for shoes, but try telling Rosemary what to do with her shit.
“You may as well give yourself whiskey dick now while you got the chance,” she said with a wink. “’Cause that little guy in your pants ain’t getting any action until Friday night.”
Ash glared. “Why do you gotta be so mean to me, baby? You know damn well he ain’t little.”
His wife glanced around and, seeing no children in the immediate vicinity, slithered up to her husband and stuck her hand down the front of his jeans. “Because you’re so damn sexy when you’re frustrated with me.”
He breathed at the touch of her hand on his cock. “Tease.”
“You knew that when you married me.” Rosemary stood on her tiptoes and kissed the side of Ash’s neck. He felt goose flesh rising to the occasion, and his Little Ash was in full salute.
This was nuts. He had to go and marry a damn panther shifter, a creature that could resist doing the deed for as long as she wanted. She liked the foreplay. Like, really liked it. And when Rosemary wanted foreplay, it could last weeks.
Before he could stop himself, he had her face in his grip. He let a dangerous, wolf-like growl escape his throat. “I was already in love with you when you pulled that abstinence bullshit on me before we were married. You knew damn well I didn’t stand a chance.”
