WithHerCraving

by Lorie O'Clare

  “Hey,” she complained, rolling down the window when his body prevented her from opening the truck door.

  A tall Cariboo male got out of the police car and sized up Jarvis. Katrin froze and blinked, unable to hide the smell of her surprise. The last thing she expected was one of her own to climb out of the human patrol car. The Cariboo was as tall and muscular as Jarvis, yet definitely older. He still looked ready and willing to fight, something most males in their prime looked like they were ready to do. He had the blond hair and blue eyes characteristic of his breed. His hair was cut short and his attentive gaze, as he focused on Jarvis then her, seemed to commit his surroundings to memory with a mere glance.

  She breathed in male testosterone. Katrin wasn’t sure what laws she or Jarvis might have broken but the urge to run hit her harder than the desire to find out. She glanced toward the passenger door.

  “Stop right there,” the male cop said with a fierce growl.

  Katrin hadn’t processed that he was talking to her before the driver’s side door opened and Jarvis was yanking her out of the truck as hurriedly as he’d shoved her inside.

  “What?” she yelped and hated how she sounded like a cub.

  Jarvis planted her on her feet. He draped his arm over her shoulder lazily, contradicting his aggressive actions up to that point. As much as she wanted to look up at him, she kept her attention on the cop. The male wore the same kind of uniform human cops wore. A slender nameplate on his shirt said McAllister. He wore a badge. There was a wire going up to his ear and every few seconds a female’s voice said something sounding like a high-pitched hum to Katrin.

  She exhaled when the Cariboo cop, McAllister, walked away from them toward the back of the truck. He started reading the tag number into a two-way radio attached to his shirt. Jarvis squeezed her shoulder and she finally looked up at him.

  “Did you drive into Prince George alone?” he whispered.

  Katrin was pretty sure the cop overheard them. A human might not have, but this cop, a male a good ten years older than Jarvis and very much in his prime, could easily hear their whispering if he wished. She shook her head once and glanced at McAllister, who was staring at the back of truck.

  “Who was your escort?”

  Katrin smelled on him what she was beginning to already suspect—anger and suspicion.

  “Quinnie Toubec,” she told him, speaking quietly but seeing no reason to whisper. What did it matter if the cop overheard them? “I dropped her off at a den where a litter lives that she wanted to visit.”

  “Dropped her off, or left her there?” Jarvis asked, but didn’t wait for her answer. He looked at the cop when he began walking toward them. Once again, Jarvis’ grip tightened on her shoulder. “This is Toubec’s truck. It’s not stolen,” he told the cop.

  McAllister barely glanced at Jarvis before fixing his attention on Katrin. “What’s your name, female?”

  “Katrin Keller.”

  “Who was your escort?”

  Katrin despised having to have a leash wrapped around her for any reason. Apparently both males sensed her displeasure in the question. McAllister growled under his breath at the same time Jarvis squeezed her shoulder hard.

  “Quinette Toubec,” Jarvis told McAllister. “Katrin left her with a litter Quinette wished to visit while Katrin did the shopping. Is there a problem?”

  “Yes, there’s a problem.” McAllister reached for Katrin.

  Jarvis snarled.

  McAllister curled his lip and tried grabbing Katrin.

  Jarvis stepped in front of her.

  Katrin wasn’t going to be treated like a rag doll and she wasn’t being put on a leash. She moved around Jarvis and shoved him at the same time. He was wound tight, a bit too tight, and turned on her as if he might lunge. Katrin was just as wound up and growing just as pissed. She had no problem showing Jarvis just how angry she was getting and didn’t give a damn if this werewolf cop knew as well. The change surged to the surface and she bit her lip when her teeth were suddenly too long for her human mouth. Before she was able to spew a few choice words at Jarvis, the cop grabbed her.

  “Don’t touch me,” she yelled, her words garbled, when the cop latched onto her arm and dragged her to his patrol car.

  McAllister suddenly had her behind him when he pointed at Jarvis. “Stay right there. I’m going to talk to the female alone. You aren’t going to move.”

  “You can uphold human law all you want in your uniform, Cariboo,” Jarvis snarled under his breath. “But you’re not going to tell me what to do and you’re going to keep your paws off the female.”

  Katrin almost sneezed from the spiciness of the anger building between them. She was ignored long enough that she might have made a run for it, but held her ground. Jarvis might fight her fight for her, which would only make this unpleasant scene smell worse. And it was starting to smell as if that was exactly what he meant to do.

  “Feel free to call Toubec and ask if I uphold his law as well,” the cop snarled. It looked as if he might spring out of his uniform at any moment. The material stretched taut across bulging back muscles. “You might ask how many werewolves he’s sent running from his ranch after they’ve broken the law.”

  Jarvis didn’t say anything but he growled with each breath and his eyes were laced with silver.

  “I uphold werewolf law,” the cop continued under his breath. “Humans don’t care if their unmated females run without an escort.”

  McAllister turned without another word and stared down at her. “Did you drive into Prince George with an escort?”

  McAllister’s tone had turned gentle. Katrin was still pissed. “I don’t care whose law you uphold,” she informed him. “And threatening to have me run off the Toubec ranch only makes you smell worse than you do in that human uniform.”

  She spun around and marched around both males to the truck.

  “Katrin,” Jarvis snarled.

  “If you try to leave, female…” the cop warned.

  Katrin yanked the truck door open and climbed into the cab before either male reached for her.

  “I can’t leave,” she informed the cop. “He has the fucking keys.” With that she slammed the door closed. “I’m calling Simone Toubec.” She rolled up the window to make a point of ignoring both males. Immediately she felt claustrophobic and regretted the action. Katrin fought not to pant as she pulled the cell phone out of the glove box and pushed one on the speed dial. Simone had told her earlier it would ring straight into her den.

  “Hello,” a female voice answered after the second ring.

  “Is this Simone?” Katrin hated phones. There was no way to sniff out the person on the other end.

  “Yes.”

  “Simone, this is Katrin Keller. I don’t think I can live on your ranch anymore.”

  Chapter Three

  Jarvis felt like a caged animal on a thousand acres of land. Katrin was somewhere inside the Toubec den. The way Rock Toubec smelled when the werewolf cop escorted him, Katrin and Quinnie Toubec to his ranch earlier was enough for Jarvis to know they wouldn’t allow him to see Katrin. He wasn’t convinced his own hide was safe on the ranch but no one had sniffed him out since he’d climbed out of the back of the truck and watched Katrin and Quinnie disappear inside Toubec’s den.

  Maybe tonight on his run he would just keep going. Luther, his cousin, was down in the States with his new mate. He and Jaeger hadn’t heard anything from him since he’d crossed the border into North Dakota. His cousin and new mate had driven to their new pack. It would be one hell of a long run. Maybe by the time he got there he’d have Katrin out of his system. Hell, he hadn’t even fucked her and her scent still clung to him.

  No one gave him a second glance or sniffed his way when he reached the well-trodden ground between the outbuildings. The large Toubec den loomed to his right, casting shadows in the growing darkness. Unlike most nights, there were very few lights on inside. Jarvis looked up at the window where Katrin had watched hi
m the past few nights. There was nothing but darkness on the other side of the flat windowpanes.

  Jarvis hated the uncomfortable knot inside his gut. When he’d overheard Katrin tell Simone on the phone that she didn’t think she could stay in their den any longer, he’d guessed it was because she didn’t like how she was being treated. No one had to sniff her out to know his hot little female ran way too far on the wild side. He hadn’t had a moment alone with her after the werewolf cop received the phone call to escort them back to the ranch. And he hadn’t seen her since.

  His own frustration reeked by the time he reached the spot in the trees where he usually undressed and changed for his run. He stared up at Katrin’s window as a work truck rumbled nearby. Jarvis shifted his attention to it.

  “Fucking tail,” he muttered and stalked to the road that went around the Toubecs’ den. “Hey!” he waved. “Got room for one more?”

  Riding into town for a beer, maybe checking out the other females might help clear his head. He wasn’t thinking clearly and smelled even worse.

  Fortunately the ranch hands were too busy predicting who would get a piece of tail to worry about how Jarvis smelled. If he took long strides to the bar and downed his whiskey as if he were on a mission, no one cared.

  He brooded over his third shot, frustration turning to anger when he wasn’t able to drink Katrin out of his head. Slapping the empty shot glass down on the bar, Jarvis nodded to the bartender as someone touched his shoulder.

  Jarvis wasn’t in the mood for company. “What?” he glowered, grunting at the same time.

  A tall, young male took a step backward. Whether he sensed Jarvis’ aggression or was also drunk wasn’t clear by his scent.

  “I—uh—outside,” he stammered, pointing to the door.

  “Spit it out,” Jarvis snapped. “I know where the fucking outside is.”

  “She paid me.” The pup held up a ten-dollar bill. “She said to tell you…”

  The rest of the werewolf’s drunken babble was lost to Jarvis. He pulled out a twenty and put it next to his empty shot glasses then pushed past the male. The cold air slapped him in the face but Jarvis barely noticed. Howley’s, the pool hall in Prince George, did a good amount of business. At least that was the howling Jarvis always heard. Tonight was proof. The large gravel parking lot was full of parked cars and several werewolves lingered in dark shadows.

  Jarvis sniffed the air, searching for Katrin’s scent.

  He made it to the end of the building when the silhouette of a female caught his eye. She stood alone, hugging herself against the cold, wavy auburn hair draping her shoulders and falling past her breasts. As he approached, she tensed and straightened.

  Jarvis was lured to her scent, in spite of the nervous trepidation he smelled as well. He didn’t stop when he reached her but pulled Katrin into his arms. He buried his face in her hair, in her neck, and held her until she finally relaxed and collapsed against him.

  “What are you doing, my little red wolf?” he asked, nuzzling her neck. “What’s in the backpack?

  Jarvis was damn near drunk from her scent when he raised his head and stared into eyes so wild-looking they almost didn’t fit on her human face.

  “Why would you call me a red wolf?” she whispered.

  He lifted her hair in his hand. “Because little wolf, your hair is the most beautiful shade of dark red I’ve ever seen. Why do you smell so spooked?” He reached behind her and squeezed the full backpack. “You have more than a change of clothes in there.”

  She stiffened and tried backing out of his arms. “I’m not spooked,” she said defiantly. “Maybe it was a mistake coming here.”

  He wasn’t letting her out of his arms that easily. “I don’t think it was a mistake.”

  Jarvis would pull the truth out of her soon enough. First he wanted her relaxed and cradled against him. He nipped her lip, then devoured her mouth.

  “Jarvis,” she cried out, grabbing his hair.

  Katrin pulled his head down, demanding as much as he did. Jarvis barely managed the pain that instantly ransacked his system. Fire burned through his veins and his breath came in pants. He tasted her, inhaled her scent, and wanted, needed, more.

  “What are you—?” she gasped when he lifted her off the ground. “Wait. There is something—”

  “It can wait.” Jarvis carried her behind the building, searching for the scent of any nearby human or werewolf.

  He wasn’t sure how he focused on watching his step and not crunching too loudly as he moved through the trees and away from the neighborhood around them. His heart pounded so loudly against his chest it would have been enough to alert even the deafest of humans.

  With each step Katrin’s body moved against his. His cock was almost too hard to keep moving. No matter where he walked he continually picked up the scent of someone, human or werewolf, too close for comfort.

  “We can’t do this,” Katrin complained. “Put me down.”

  “Why can’t we do this?” Jarvis finally let her slide down his body, which was pure torture. He wasn’t the only one suffering either. He smelled her sexual frustration mixed with his own. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

  “You know that’s not true.” Katrin hugged herself but then lowered her arms, blowing out a loud sigh.

  It only filled the air around them stronger with her rich, ripe scent. When she ran her fingers through her thick hair, Jarvis saw how she trembled.

  “I sniffed you out for a reason.”

  “I thought I knew that reason.”

  That haunted look was back in her eyes. She searched his face, her expression strained with demons and pain. “I left the Toubec ranch.”

  When she didn’t continue, Jarvis took a moment to search their surroundings. They were alone behind a row of businesses, some human and werewolf. Prince George was a melting pot filled with many species, most lived in peace and others in ignorance. At the moment, he didn’t smell any hostilities around them. Years of running in the mountains gave him the insight that things might change at any moment.

  Katrin also searched around them, but her expression was closer to panic. Her scent had changed too.

  “Wait a minute, what do you mean you left the Toubecs?”

  “It’s not for me there,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I owed you as much to tell you that.”

  “You don’t owe me anything.”

  “Maybe I want to,” she offered and focused on his chest.

  He never wanted her in debt to him. But he did want her. “This isn’t the place to talk.” Jarvis took her hand and began walking. The pain from his swollen dick still coursed through him but it was tolerable.

  Less than thirty minutes later he unlocked the door to a motel room. It was managed by humans and reeked of their stale odor. They wouldn’t pick up on his or Katrin’s scent, though. There were times when he was grateful humans didn’t have the ability to smell emotions. The last thing he wanted was anyone working here to walk by and smell how much lust drifted out around the motel room’s door.

  “Why did you bring us here?” Katrin asked as she walked into the room and reached for the knob to turn on the lamp by the bed.

  Jarvis grabbed her hair, taking the thick strands in his hand and pulling. He had it gathered at the nape and turned her, then pushed her so she was bent over the bed. Pressing his fist against her lower back, he kept her pinned. Katrin wasn’t able to turn her head or straighten.

  “You’ve already told me you’ve run from Toubec’s ranch so taking you to my den isn’t an option.” When she didn’t fight him, he moved his hand from her back and reached around her to unfasten her jeans, then unzip them. “You better take these off,” he warned. Already his pulse hit a beat so rapid he barely trusted himself to undress her. He’d shred her clothes before any of them hit the floor in one piece.

  Katrin moved her hands but collapsed onto the bed. “Then you better let go of my hair,” she growled, her low, raspy voice so
damn sultry.

  Jarvis flipped her onto her back. Grabbing her legs when she brought them up, as if she might try kicking him backward, his hands slid down her jeans until he held her boot. He pulled it off and let it fall to the floor with a thud. The other one came off just as easily. The smell of humans embedded in the furniture, the carpet and even the walls wasn’t strong enough to douse the explosion of lust that suddenly filled the room.

  “Tonight, here, this is our sanctuary.” He was barely able to form words, let alone peel out of his clothes. “But know this, my sexy red Cariboo—I won’t fuck you and walk away.”

  Her fingers rested just inside her unzipped jeans. He watched her flat belly rise and fall, adored the smooth contours of her exposed flesh and allowed the moment of silence to linger between them as she absorbed his meaning.

  Katrin’s attention drifted from his face. The heat of her gaze travelled down his body and he knew she took in the scars on his chest, on his arms, and when his jeans came off, the ones on his legs. She saw, and possibly comprehended that whatever tore at her from her past, his hadn’t been any easier.

  Whatever hesitation gave her pause after he spoke, she pushed it aside and made no ceremony about taking the rest of her clothes off. Jarvis wasn’t sure stopping now would be possible when she came at him, completely naked. Pushing herself off the bed, she reached for him. Her touch was worse torture than she would ever know.

  Katrin placed her hands on him and brushed her fingertips over the tight curls between his pectorals when she spoke. “Then you know this, Cariboo,” she whispered. “I’m going to fuck you and you may still walk away in the morning.”

  She pressed her mouth over one of his nipples. Her breath was so damn hot it scorched his flesh. Jarvis howled, briefly speechless. They would debate their morals and values later, and he would win.

  “The morning is quite a ways away,” he growled, lifting her under the arms and returning her to the bed.

  Katrin landed on her back, her auburn hair tumbling around her. Strands draped over her slender shoulders and fanned on her perky, firm breasts. Small, round nipples pointed at him, making him drool. His body was so stiff, his cock swollen and heavy. But staring at her, taking in her torturous beauty was worth every ounce of pain he endured remaining where he was.