The Wolf’s Surprise Babies

by Jasmine Wylder

  “You’re just the kind of sweet curvy virgin I’ve been craving lately.”

  Was that supposed to be a compliment? Was she supposed to feel good about being classified as just a virgin? He hadn’t said anything about wanting her as a person. Just that her hymen happened to be intact. That was all he wanted. Somewhere tight to plunge his cock, a pair of perky breasts. Just a body. He’d have just as much fun with a blow-up doll.

  She turned back to the salad, tears of frustration and humiliation starting to burn her eyes. Her lip trembled, even when she bit it to still the movement. If there was one thing she had always been proud of, it was her ability to control herself. After all, it wasn’t easy to stop herself from giving into those natural and powerful urges. There had been times when she had wondered if it was worth it at all.

  Her mother had always told her about how she had slept with one of her first boyfriends and came out of it feeling dirty, sullied like she had betrayed the man she would eventually marry. Lizzie had always liked the thought of sharing herself only with men she knew loved her, and whom she loved back. It was one of the reasons she always dumped her boyfriends if they ended up pressuring her too much.

  If they didn’t respect her decision not to have sex, then they didn’t respect her. And without respect, there could be no trust. Without trust, there could be no true love. And Lizzie wasn’t going to settle for anybody less than her true love. Maybe that made her a dreamer, maybe that made her too picky, but she’d rather be picky and alone than settle for less than she deserved and end up miserable.

  And if Varton could find his true love? Well, so could she.

  But in order for her to find that one true love, she had to keep herself under control. She had to stop herself from giving herself away to any man she found attractive. She had to keep that special time for the one man she would eventually wed. She didn’t care if she was married before they slept together, but she had to know that they loved each other.

  The only problem was that she could feel that determination slipping away, shriveling under the heat of that kiss.

  ***

  Philip’s hands started trembling as soon as he left the kitchen. He set the plate on a table in the mudroom and strode out to the porch. As he suspected, Bethany lay sleeping in the hammock, half-eaten sandwich beside her. He sat down on the steps, gazing out at the lake. Yes, he had been right, but that was way too close. What if Bethany hadn’t fallen asleep? What if she had heard the raised voices and come into the kitchen when he had Lizzie bent over the table?

  That wasn’t something he wanted his daughter to see. That wasn’t something he wanted her to think was normal. She was too young to understand that there were some things that adults liked that were unusual. What she would have seen would have been that men hurt women. If he, her father, did it, then it had to be normal.

  Is it normal? He knew he shouldn’t have manhandled Lizzie the way he had. He knew he shouldn’t have put his hands on her like that in the first place, and certainly not in anger. The way she reacted, though. Not fully angered herself, but actually desiring it… Now, as he forced himself to eat despite the twisting of his stomach, he wondered if he had read her wrong.

  She did say no. She might not have pushed him away, she might have been acting like she wanted him to stay and splay her open for his pleasure, but she said no. And he ought to have left it at that right? He certainly shouldn’t have given her that parting jab. She was already afraid enough, after that she was probably going to hop into the truck and take off. Tell the cops where to find him and then…

  Philip snorted as he shook his head. Now he was just sounding paranoid.

  The fact was, she was into what they were doing. He could smell the arousal on her and hadn’t seen the fear in her eyes. Sure, she said no, but when she did, he had let her go, hadn’t he? And maybe he teased her a little after, but it wasn’t as though he’d pinned her to a bed. No. She had no reason to be upset with him—right? And yes, maybe he ought to have backed off quicker, but at the same time… she had wanted it.

  All the same… it wasn’t something he wanted Bethany to see. He should have backed off sooner. Shouldn’t have let his anger get the best of him, shouldn’t have allowed his desires to gain traction after he had felt such intense emotion.

  He snorted again as he polished off the sandwich. No use in thinking about it further. What was done was done, and he wasn’t going to let himself get so swept up in it again. He’d already forgotten the feeling of his body pressed to hers. Of her mouth seeking his out. Their tongues battling for dominance as they kissed.

  He’d tasted her and that was that. He wasn’t going to give her anymore thought.

  Still… it would be wonderful to introduce her to the pleasures of sex. He was telling the truth when he said she was the type of virgin he’d been craving. Someone who he could explore, to share himself with while teaching her things about her own body that she never had known before. And she knew what she wanted. She might be a little nervous about sharing that, but she was bold enough to let him know what she craved and not turn away from that.

  Which was why it was so surprising that she would deny herself something she wanted for so long…

  Is this me not thinking about her? He shook his head, getting to his feet. He was still semi-hard, and Bethany was sleeping. A nice dip in the lake was just what the doctor ordered.

  ***

  Later, after Bethany had woken up and insisted on running through the forest again, Philip was sitting in the hammock, feeling lazy and ready to turn in for the night… or at least, ready to find the quiet, alone place to take care of himself in, Bethany came rushing over to him as she carried two fistfuls of flowers. Her face was bright and eager as she peered up into his.

  “Look what I found,” she exclaimed, dancing on the spot as she held up the buttercups and blue lettuce. “Do you think Lizzie will like them?”

  Philip smiled, though he wasn't certain he liked how attached Bethany had gotten to Lizzie. Today she had even volunteered to clean up the table by herself and ‘helped' with the dishes, two things he could never get her to do normally. When he had teased her then, she had seriously said that Lizzie needed her help.

  Now, Philip reached for one of the bouquets. “Why don't I get any flowers?” he asked, pulling a pouting face.

  Bethany giggled as she put the flowers in his hand. “They are for you, Daddy! They’re for you to give to Lizzie.”

  His brows arched and he stared at her in disbelief. “Why?”

  Bethany looked immensely pleased with herself as she settled down on the hammock next to him, snuggling her head under his arm. “Because you haven’t given her any flowers yet. And you’re supposed to give girlfriends flowers.”

  “Girlfriends?” Philip didn’t think he could be any more surprised than he already was. “What makes you think she’s my girlfriend?”

  “We’ve never been camping with anybody else before.” Bethany stared up at him with her large, innocent eyes.

  “This isn’t camping,” Philip teased at once, hoping to be able to turn the conversation away.

  Bethany, however, was far too sharp a five-year-old to be fooled by that. Philip had always been pleased and a little intimidated at how smart his daughter was. At only five, she was already at the second grade level at school. Socially, her skills weren’t quite up to par. She always seemed to be able to relate to adults better than children her own age.

  He worried about what sort of future she’d have. She didn’t make friends easily, and that was going to make it all the easier for the family to manipulate her into wanting to be with them, to give all her loyalty to them.

  In the meantime, though, he had to clear things up. He didn’t want her becoming attached to Lizzie like this, to make assumptions that were only going to disappoint her in the end.

  “Honey,” he said, keeping his voice gentle as he laid the flowers over his lap. “Lizzie isn’t my girlfriend. And she’s n
ot going to be.”

  Bethany’s lower lip jutted out so far that it nearly swallowed her nose. “Why?”

  “Because we don’t like each other like that.”

  “But I like her! We can play poker. If I win, she can be your girlfriend.” Bethany hopped to her feet, as though that decided it.

  Philip sighed as he rocked the hammock enough for him to swing his feet onto the porch. Bethany grinned triumphantly, only for her face to fall again when he shook his head. She was so crestfallen that he would have liked to have agreed to her poker match just to cheer her up again. Where she had learned to play poker, he didn’t know. All he knew was that she was quite the little cardsharp already, and he had to be careful lest she end up gambling him into ice cream for dinner every day of the week.

  “Bethany,” Philip said, making his voice ever firmer. “Listen. You can’t just decide that someone is your girlfriend or boyfriend. I like her, but I don’t love her. And she doesn’t love me. So that’s all there is to it, okay?”

  “But—”

  “Bethany. That’s enough.”

  She hung her head, taking one of the flowers back from him. As she pinched the petals between her fingers, he saw the tears welling in her eyes. Then, with a cry of anger, she seized the whole bunch and threw them over the edge of the porch, then stomped her feet over the ones that had fallen onto the wooden slats.

  “Bethany!” Philip stood, frowning at her. “What are you doing?”

  “There’s no point in them,” Bethany spat back. She continued stomping her feet as large tears started running down her face. “No point! No point! No point!”

  She had never thrown a temper tantrum like this before, and Philip could only stare at her, stunned and not knowing how to react. Bethany started to scream, still stomping her feet, and Philip’s instinct was to tell her to stop, to try to soothe her, to do anything to stop this scene. But he fought back that instinct and instead picked her up, which only increased her screaming, and quickly moved to put her on the soft grass, where she was less likely to hurt herself with her stomping.

  When he put her down, her legs buckled and she went down among the crushed flowers, screaming and kicking and pounding the ground with her fists.

  Lizzie appeared in the doorway as Philip sat back on the porch. His shoulders were tense, and his hands clenched on his knees, but he was silent. He didn’t explain to her what was happening, he didn’t offer excuses for Bethany’s behavior. He just watched his daughter, making sure she didn’t hurt herself but not interacting. Maybe if she didn’t get any attention…

  After some time, Bethany fell silent abruptly. She lay there for a moment, then sat up and wiped the tears from her red face. She looked from Philip to Lizzie before she stood and brushed bits of grass from her arms and legs.

  Her head hung low. “Sorry, Daddy. Sorry, Lizzie.”

  Philip held his arms out to her. “Come here.”

  Obediently, Bethany sagged into his embrace. Tears soaked his shirt, but she was no longer screaming and sobbing violently. Philip cradled her tightly to himself, trying to be comforting now. She understood she had acted wrong, and he didn’t think there was any need to become cross with her. There was a knot in his own chest as he held her, though, one he wasn’t sure how to get rid of.

  Lizzie stood behind them silently, and he wondered what she thought about all of this.

  ***

  The light of the moon was nice and bright, making the land outside her window look silvery. Bethany lay in her bed, the blankets tucked up at her chin as she looked over the tips of the trees to the sky. Stars were so bright. This was what she loved most about camping, looking at the stars at night. Normally, they would sleep in a tent and she didn’t like that, but she liked being in the cabin.

  She wished they could just live here all the time. Her and Daddy and Lizzie. Maybe they could have Mrs. Folger visit them, and her babysitters and some of Daddy’s friends. She liked Kavan when he came over. He always had a present for her.

  But she knew that they wouldn’t stay here. She didn’t even know why they were here in the first place. If Lizzie wasn’t Daddy’s girlfriend, then why did she bring them out here?

  Her stomach hurt like she was going to be sick, even though she had felt good all day. Her nose burned and her eyes stung. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay and not have to go back to the city. It smelled there. The air tasted funny. She liked it here better. If Daddy and Lizzie were boyfriend and girlfriend, then they’d get married. They could live anywhere they wanted, and Daddy wouldn’t have to go to work… she was proud of him for being a stuntman in the movies, but she didn’t like to see him come home with bruises on his face or blood on his shirt. It scared her.

  There was a low voice outside of her door and she turned her head, catching Daddy’s voice as he spoke to Lizzie.

  “Sorry about earlier,” he said.

  Bethany covered her head with her blankets. After how she had behaved with her kicking and screaming, of course he was sorry. Why would Lizzie want to be her mommy when she did stuff like that? Timmy, in her class, did that all the time. He would scream and cry and threaten his mommy and daddy all the time, and they’d give him everything he wanted. She thought maybe it would work for her. But Daddy had just sat there, not talking to her. And it hurt her throat and hands.

  She wasn’t going to try that again.

  “I’m sorry, too,” Lizzie told Daddy, and Bethany frowned. What did she have to be sorry for? “I shouldn’t have said all those things. But you shouldn’t have—”

  “I know.”

  Bethany pulled the blankets back down, listening intently to try to hear what they were saying.

  Daddy sounded sad. “We both let our emotions get the best of us. It’s a disquieting situation, but we have to keep our heads.”

  What did disquieting mean? She would have to look at it in the dictionary tomorrow.

  “It is,” Lizzie agreed. “Which is why I think it would be better if I left tomorrow. I’ll go home and—”

  “Lizzie—”

  “I won’t tell anybody.”

  Tell them what? Bethany sat up, but they fell silent. She couldn’t hear anything else, and with an annoyed sigh, she laid back down. Her heart beat in her chest as she turned to stare back outside. Lizzie was leaving. She didn’t want Lizzie to leave. She wanted her to stay here… there had to be something she could do to keep her here, right?

  Her hands gripped the blankets as she nodded to herself. There was something. She just had to figure it out.

  Chapter Four

  It wasn’t summer yet, so there was no reason for it to be so damn hot. Lizzie stuck her feet out from the blankets, watching the curtains move in the barely-there breeze. The moon was so bright out there that she would rather have had the window closed, but it was so stifling hot on this side of the cabin that she couldn’t stand to have the curtains closed.

  Her nightgown stuck to her arms and chest, glued there with sweat. Were the others having as much difficulty with this as she was? She knew this room was the hottest in the cabin, facing the sun all day. She should have remembered to have closed the curtains when she got up that morning.

  If only the too-early-for-this heat was the worst of her problems. Lizzie sat up, rolling her neck back and forth as her mind turned once more to the real reason she wasn’t asleep. Sure, it was hot, but she had tricks that she used, and the heat had never really bothered her anyway. At least, not that kind of heat. The heat that came from inside of her, burning like a dragon’s fire, was another thing altogether.

  She wiped her fingers off on the sheets; she had found herself aching with need so badly when she escaped to her room that she hadn’t seen any other recourse but to please herself. She had been quiet about it, pressing her face into her pillow when she thought she might start crying out. But, as usual, just when everything started to tighten and peak, she had found herself unable to go any further; it was just too much, her c
lit throbbing and too sensitive to touch.

  And so, rather than alleviating that need that she wanted filled, it had just made her desire even worse. With a groan, she threw herself back down, hoping to find a cool patch of sheets. What she should have done was soak a towel before getting changed. Now, she didn’t want to go through all the trouble of putting on a bra again, but if she left her room and Philip hadn’t gone to bed yet?

  Philip. She could still taste his mouth on hers. Smell that musky scent. Feel him pressed against her, while his arm stretched around her, the coolness of the table pressed into her cheek. Why did her body insist that she had done something wrong by pushing him away? If she had taken him up on his offer, she knew she would be regretting it right now… right?

  The last thing she wanted was to give up her virginity to someone she didn’t love. Someone she didn’t like. So what if she had started to see that he was a devoted father and was regretting her hasty judgments of him. That didn’t mean she liked him. And she certainly didn’t want to play out a rough fantasy her first time with someone she didn’t like.

  But God! How much she did want to do just that.

  “Okay, this isn’t working.”

  The battle between her body and mind was getting freaking annoying, almost enough to make her want to use the other ‘F’ word. And she didn’t approve of curse words in any situation. It was something Varton teased her about endlessly… and usually she could shrug it off but right now, even that made her heart feel heavy.

  Was she really too much of a prude? Too straight-laced, too uptight. Like one of those old-fashioned women whose corset was so tight that she couldn’t breathe, her back always ramrod straight as she sat in wooden church pews for hours on end. It wasn’t like she judged other women who did what they wanted with their bodies—not much, at least—but should she really just let go of all these rules she had built around herself?

  Her mother would tell her that sex was overrated. Was she putting too much pressure on her first time? Was it the guilt of experiencing any pleasure with herself, even, that stopped her from orgasming when she ‘played solo’?