Tales from Tarker's Hollow

by Tasha Black

  The wooden figure expanded, pushing upward like a tree growing in a time-lapse film.

  Up and up it came, fox features stretched out of proportion, until it stood as a man. Tall and lean and lightly muscled.

  Tokala moved toward Bonnie, his colors filling in with every step. Warm copper skin, sad eyes the color of a midnight lake, shining black hair. He stood before her, real. Real as in her dream.

  “My brave love,” he said to her, his eyes sparkling.

  Bonnie launched herself at him. If he wasn’t real, she needed to know right away.

  He caught her up in his warm arms and swung her around in a circle, laughing.

  Then he placed her down, carefully, so carefully.

  She lost herself in the promise of his eyes.

  Somewhere, Grace was asking if everyone was okay.

  “I know what we need to do now,” Cressida said in a tone that sent shivers down her spine.

  Bonnie put them out of her head.

  Tokala bent to kiss her.

  16

  Before Tokala’s lips could brush Bonnie’s, Mac cleared his throat loudly.

  Bonnie whirled on him with an involuntary growl, for the second time in twenty-four hours.

  Mac looked amused this time.

  “I just wanted to offer you two a ride home,” he said, looking up in a tree, and mercifully away from Bonnie’s burning cheeks.

  “Um, sure, is that okay with you?” she asked Tokala.

  “I am in favor of the plan that gets me into your bed fastest,” he said, nodding down at her.

  Bonnie blushed even more deeply than before, and Mac cleared his throat again.

  “Where is your horse?” Tokala asked.

  “Oh wow,” Mac began. “A lot of things have changed…”

  “You know what, we’ll walk,” Bonnie announced, grabbing Tokala by the arm and yanking him toward the stone steps.

  “Wait,” Mac said, removing his coat and offering it to Tokala.

  Tokala nodded his thanks and shrugged it on. It just barely covered the best of his assets.

  Bonnie tugged at his arm again.

  He rumbled a deep laugh, and followed her.

  17

  Bonnie opened the door to her apartment and they stepped inside.

  The place felt immediately smaller with Tokala there. His huge frame nearly touched the sloping ceiling.

  He looked unconcerned with his surroundings though. Bonnie wondered absently whether the cozy space reminded him of the wigwams where he would have spent his life… before.

  “Would you like something to eat—” she began.

  “I want my mate,” he said firmly, removing Mac’s coat and letting it fall on the floor.

  Something in the timbre of his voice made her insides quiver.

  “But doesn’t all this, fill you with questions?” she asked, gesturing to the apartment and the world around them.

  “No,” he told her. “The world changes. Even when I was a boy. I’ll learn about it tomorrow, or a moon from now. It’s all the same to me. We have all the time in the world for questions. My only urgency is you.”

  The room faded away at the edges, and for Bonnie there was only Tokala.

  He stood strong before her, studying her with his beautiful dark eyes. Waiting for her to come to him.

  His chiseled physique should have been intimidating, but Bonnie had felt protected in those impossibly strong arms. Just as she’d felt known and cherished in his sparkling eyes, though he hadn’t even asked her name.

  Bonnie had been alone for so long, telling herself she wanted a mate, but secretly enjoying her solitude, just a little.

  As she stepped forward, she said a silent good-bye to the solitary life she had built for herself. She would never be alone again.

  And if she thought she was the new kid in town, it was the tip of the iceberg compared to what Tokala would experience.

  They were going to have so much fun together.

  He smiled down at her and she reached up to cup his face in her hands.

  He slid his arms around her waist and lifted her until her eyes were level with his.

  “You saved me, little wolf,” he told her.

  She smiled.

  “You will not have to do it again,” he told her darkly.

  “I like adventures,” Bonnie heard herself protest.

  “I can see that,” he replied, one brow raised.

  Everything about this just felt so right.

  Which was a good thing, because he was letting her slide back down his body now, so slowly.

  She felt the hard planes of his chest under her hands and the steady beat of his heart. The throbbing heat sliding against her thighs, and then her belly, was both familiar and new. Her whole body ached for him.

  When her feet touched the ground, he grabbed a blanket from the sofa, and laid her gently on the rug before the cold fireplace, with the blanket under her head.

  “Tentay,” he said carelessly over his shoulder.

  A fire began to crackle in the grate, filling the room with a warm glow and the delicious scent of burning wood.

  “Oh,” Bonnie breathed.

  But then he was slipping her dress over her head, the feel of the cool air on her skin, and the anticipation making her forget all about the fire.

  She closed her eyes.

  Tokala’s hands were hot against her skin. He struggled with the cups of her bra, before plucking the whole thing off in two pieces.

  She looked down at him as he bent his head to taste her breasts.

  Her head fell back against the blanket again at the first touch of his tongue. The sensation was so strong it was almost painful. He lapped and tugged at one nipple and then the other, his big hand pressing against her belly, as if to quell the yawning ache there.

  Her hips began to rise to him, and he trailed hot kisses down her belly.

  Bonnie bit down on her lip to keep from whimpering, as he ripped her panties off.

  Then she felt his face between her legs, nuzzling, scenting her.

  “Beautiful little wolf,” he praised her, his voice low with desire.

  Bonnie could only moan in answer.

  When his tongue touched her opening, she lost track of her own sounds.

  He ravished her slowly, his tongue stoking and coaxing, when Bonnie was already burning.

  She raised her hips to him, helplessly.

  Tokala groaned, the vibration adding to Bonnie’s suffering.

  He lifted his tongue to explore and gently manipulate her clitoris.

  Bonnie cried out again as he fixed his lips against it, licking and sucking madly.

  Her whole body was on fire, clenching on emptiness. She felt that she might actually combust if he didn’t fill her.

  “Please,” she whispered, “please, please, please,” as if it were the only word she could remember.

  She nearly cried with relief when she felt him crawling up to her.

  There was no mischief in his eyes now, only hot desire.

  “Be ready, love,” he told her.

  But she was ready. She bucked her hips against him frantically.

  At last she felt him, rigid and throbbing against her swollen opening.

  He pressed himself into her so slowly. Bonnie’s body stretched and smarted.

  When he was fully seated, she felt her body latch down on him fiercely.

  His eyes closed in helpless ecstasy.

  He opened them again and gazed at her.

  She saw a swirling sky of loved ones. Heard the song of the watchman in her own voice. Looked down into the sparkling brown eyes of a sweet papoose with a tuft of russet hair.

  Did that mean?

  He watched her, waiting.

  She smiled happily, pulling him closer, wrapping her hands in the silk of his beautiful hair.

  When he began to move inside her at last, Bonnie saw stars with her pleasure.

  “Oh, love,” he whispered, his voice rough.
r />   Their pleasure was an ocean, a galaxy.

  He slid a hand between them and brought her to the stars.

  Bonnie felt herself lift nearly out of her body. Pennsylvania, Tarker’s Hollow, Copper Creek, the past, the present, the future faded into one small thing below, before she crashed down into her own home, onto the rug before her own little fire, trembling and moaning brokenly in the arms of the man who loved her.

  As Tokala shouted his own climax, Bonnie saw what he saw.

  The world - so beautiful, always changing, always the same. Singing the song of man and woman, woman and child.

  She would not be alone for Christmas this year after all.

  * * *

  THE END

  * * *

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  The Talented Mr. MacGregor

  Things heat up for Mac when he ends up looking for clues (and his pants) at a dinner party where the guests are far from innocent.

  1

  J.D. MacGregor had been called to the principal’s office.

  Although he was an adult - and a teacher at that - he still got that now-I’ve-done-it feeling as he jogged down the oak plank stairs of Tarker’s Hollow High School after being summoned.

  “Hey, Mac,” smiled the secretary, as he entered the office. She was clearly eyeing him up.

  Mac knew he was good-looking. He had a class full of eye-batting AP History juniors every year that made it hard to forget. But these days, both his libido and his sex appeal were kicked into overdrive.

  “Hi, Liddy,” he replied with a grin.

  She colored and went back to her computer screen. Which was a good thing. Mac was pretty sure she had grandkids at the high school.

  He was about to take a seat on the cool wooden bench when the door to the principal’s office swung open.

  “Mac, please come in.” Dr. Jane Tilly smiled politely, leading him through the heavy oak door, and pulling it firmly shut behind him when he had entered.

  As she brushed past him, Mac tried not to notice the raw female heat pouring off the principal’s skin under her thin silk blouse.

  Jane was one of those women who took such good care of herself that it was hard to tell how old she was. Fussiness in dress was a bit uncommon in wolves, but Mac wasn’t complaining. Frankly, his wolf liked the idea of messing her up, ruining the pretty shirt and mussing the perfect smoothness of her glossy black hair.

  This heightened draw to the females in the pack was something he’d been fighting night and day since the alpha had awoken inside him.

  But he was a teacher, and Jane his principal, and the two of them had been on friendly terms for more than a decade now.

  “Sit, sit,” she waved him to the chair across from her desk.

  Mac sat, and waited for her to sit as well. But instead, she leaned back against the desk.

  “I wanted to talk with you about your evaluation. It’s coming up in two weeks, and I’m sure you have concerns,” she said, then fixed him with her brown-eyed gaze, waiting for him to respond.

  Was this about the new adjunct position he’d taken at the college? Her licentious gaze told him the positions she had in mind had nothing to do with work.

  “I’m being pulled in a lot of directions, Jane.” He smiled gently, without leaning forward in his seat. No need to encourage her. “But I’m a professional. Neither of us have anything to worry about.”

  Her hand went to the delicate spot on her throat where her pulse pounded.

  It was a harmless gesture, but it told Mac that the sexual threat level on their interaction had just been bumped up to orange.

  His body responded without consulting him.

  Instantly, he was rock hard. The air between them crackled.

  Mac forced himself to breathe slowly.

  Jane’s delicate tongue darted out to moisten her brilliant red lips and he had to clench his fists to stop himself from grabbing her.

  “I’m only trying to say that, as the alpha—”

  “Temporary alpha,” he corrected her.

  “As the temporary alpha, you may be under some… strain.” She moved forward to stand between his feet. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you, Mac.”

  The hot female scent pouring off her body had his wolf nearly intoxicated.

  She leaned in.

  At the last possible second, Mac slid out of the chair and moved behind it to buy himself a little space.

  Her eyes flashed, and he suddenly felt like a lion tamer without a whip.

  But Jane had scented him too, and she kicked the chair out of the way with one pink leather pump.

  “I’m fine, Jane, there is no need to trouble yourself,” he murmured, using his words to call to her human side. She was his boss, and they were both professionals. He couldn’t let this happen.

  But it was too late. He was literally backed into the corner.

  Jane pulled off her gauzy red scarf and popped open the top button on her silk blouse.

  Mac tried, unsuccessfully, not to gaze at the tops of her perfectly round breasts, which were offered up to him by one of those fancy lace bras.

  His wolf begged to claim her.

  Jane’s hands hit the wall on either side of his shoulders and she met his gaze for a moment.

  Her eyes shone a deep gold. Her wolf was calling the shots now.

  Before he could try to escape, she thrust her face into his neck, inhaling his scent deeply.

  Every cell in his body responded. His blood raged, and his cock pressed painfully against his fly. The room was too small. The only thing right was Jane Tilly, but there were too many clothes between them.

  He gave in with a growl and latched onto her ass to haul her against him. Through the tweed of her skirt, he could feel the submission of her soft flesh under his hands. It filled him with a ferocious desire.

  Just then, both of their cell phones chirped in unison, momentarily breaking the spell.

  Mac remembered himself and pulled his hands off Jane’s ass like it was on fire.

  She darted in the direction of her desk, and seated herself demurely behind it, her cheeks burning.

  “Thank you for stopping down, Mr. MacGregor. That will be all,” she dismissed him as she studied her cell phone determinedly. She hadn’t even swiped to see who had sent the message.

  2

  Mac burst through the double doors of Tarker’s Hollow High School and into the crisp January air. The breeze did its best to strip away the residual heat that still clung to him. He breathed deeply and pulled his phone from his pocket, grateful for the distraction.

  After what had just transpired in his principal’s office, the innocuousness of the message was almost surreal.

  * * *

  Hello Mac,

  I just found this on Pinterest! It’s a MYSTERY dinner party! Doesn’t it look like fun?

  See you at the faculty tea.

  Best,

  Helen

  * * *

  Mac smiled.

  Dr. Helen Thayer was a formidable woman. She had chaired the History Department at the local college for about twenty years. She was a notoriously tough grader. She published regularly and impressively.

  The juxtaposition of her stern demeanor and her sudden, and unlikely, obsession with Pinterest brought indulgent smiles to the rest of the faculty. Even Mac, a relative newcomer, and only an adjunct, was shocked the first time she sent him a link to a picture of Halloween cupcakes.

  But by now he was used to it. He smiled and slipped the phone back into his pocket. With all of the turmoil in the Tarker’s Hollow pack, and in his own head, it was nice to get a message about something fun.

  Things had been rough for the pac
k since their beloved alpha, Michael Connor, and his wife, Sylvia, had died in a tragic car accident. The intervening weeks had not been long enough to really process the loss. The pack was still trying to figure out how to deal with it.

  And to make matters worse, the Connors’ only child refused to come home and choose another alpha for the pack, leaving Mac to fill in as the interim replacement until she came to her senses.

  Mac had known Ainsley Connor since she was a teenager in his History class. She was diligent and good-hearted. At first he hadn’t believed that she wouldn’t come home. But when he’d talked to her after the funeral, she had seemed pretty determined.

  Mac had the unsettling notion that the Tarker’s Hollow pack was in big trouble.

  Being the pack’s beta was something Mac enjoyed immensely. He liked being privy to big decisions, and helping to organize pack business. And he especially liked hanging out with his friend, Michael Connor.

  Being the stand-in alpha, on the other hand, was dreadful. Mac missed Michael terribly, of course. And then there was the fact that he was expected to make the big decisions and run the pack business himself.

  Mac didn’t much relish telling others what to do, unless they were high school students. And the confrontations with the other wolves were endless. Mac would try to have a thoughtful conversation, but then the alpha in him - an unwelcome and untouchable presence - would rise to the surface and put the offending wolf in his or her place.

  It was very effective at getting someone to do what you wanted. But it was pretty crummy on friendships. Mac didn’t remember Michael Connor having any trouble keeping his cool. But of course Michael had practically been born to be alpha.

  Amplifying everything, though, was the undercurrent of carnal angst.

  Mac was used to fending off school girl crushes. High school girls were easy enough to discourage.

  But now that he was acting alpha, it was as though the entire Tarker’s Hollow pack were his third block American History class. Women seemed to pop up around every corner to bat their eyelashes and bite their lower lips at him.