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Werewolf Me

Page 8

by Amarinda Jones


  “I need you to be serious.”

  “About werewolves apparently.” How does one do that when they don’t exist? The sudden howling of wolves sent a chill down her back. Spooky how they do that on cue.

  “Yes.” Bess’s eyes were locked on hers.

  Truro felt the sudden urge to look up. Murphy. He was walking toward them. A wild thrill of hunger shot through her body. He is mine. Truro saw the look he and Bess exchanged. It was one of deep knowledge and also a kind of intimacy that made Truro jealous. I want to be the only one he looks at like that. She shook her herself. Get a grip. Like I’m going to scratch Bess’ eyes out for looking at a gorgeous man. “Do you two know each other?”

  “Sort of,” Bess responded.

  “Somewhat,” Murphy added with a nod.

  Vague and noncommittal. Truro was excellent at that. What were they hiding? He was a drifter and she was a loner. One had lived in Ludlum for a couple of years. The other was in transit. “What’s going on?”

  Bess sighed. “She isn’t ready to hear the truth.”

  “What truth?” Truro stood up and demanded.

  Murphy nodded at Bess. “Soon she will be.”

  “She? I am standing right here.”

  “Yes, petal.” Murphy reached out a hand to her.

  Truro pulled away. If he touched her she wouldn’t be able to think. “What truth?” she repeated.

  Bess raised herself up. “I’ll be ready to answer the questions you will have.”

  Truro looked from one to the other. “Questions?”

  “You know where to find me, Murphy.” Bess turned to Truro. “I’ll be back in a day or so to Tru. Promise me you’ll remain open-minded.”

  “What?” Truro was more confused than ever.

  Murphy picked up her hand and linked their fingers together. “Problem?”

  “Who are you people?” This was not normal conversation that people had. This was strange, shades of gray words which meant nothing to anyone but those who spoke it.

  “Just people.”

  “Bullshit. Bess was trying to discuss werewolves as if it’s a normal thing and then you rock up and she goes all quiet.” Truro’s eyes searched his. While she saw no lies, she knew Murphy was hiding something.

  “What’s that about? I know you two have something going on.”

  Murphy lifted her hand and kissed it. “My heart belongs to you, petal.”

  “Ha—frigging—ha.”

  Murphy smiled at her. “So you don’t believe in them?”

  “Hearts? Nope.” I stopped believing in them to until you made mine beat so fast.

  “Oh, hearts exist, as do werewolves.”

  Once again a wolf howled. “Jeez, that’s getting annoying.” It was almost as if nature was having a laugh at her.

  “I believe every myth has a basis in truth.”

  Truro rolled her eyes. “Werewolves? Nope. Some men acting with the sensitivity of feral animals—yes—that I would believe.”

  “All men are not alike, petal.”

  “No.” Truro had to concede that. The man who held her hand was beautiful inside and out and she had not noticed true male beauty in a long time.

  “As for werewolves it’s more about a primal instinct and being who you are meant to be.”

  “A man who turns into a wolf?” News at eleven.

  Murphy was undeterred by her skepticism. “A powerful being belonging to a family who makes you stronger and at peace.”

  It was a nice thought but not something Truro had experience in. “Well I’ve never been powerful unless under the influence of hormones and chocolate and I haven’t had a family for a long time and even then it wasn’t peaceful.”

  Murphy massaged her thumb against her flesh. “I’m sorry.”

  Truro shrugged her shoulders. “Anyway, whatever.” Things happened and you moved on stronger than before. Dwelling on what you could not have made you weak. “I get you’re into the nature thing but werewolves are from Hollywood, wolf man.” Even as she said the words, Truro’s mind went to the tattoo on his chest. Coincidence was an amazing thing. But it was just that. Coincidence.

  “What if I said werewolves were real and I was one?”

  “Thank God you’re so pretty because you’re no comedian.”

  “It’s the truth.” Murphy’s words were quiet yet strong.

  “Pardon me while I laugh my ass off—actually that would be good I would like to lose some pounds.” Thoughts of her ass against his thighs shot into her mind. An instant rush of wet heat pooled between her legs.

  Murphy pulled her toward him. “You have a great ass.” His hands dropped down to cover it.

  “You just want in.” Please.

  “You want me in.”

  Oh yes. Truro leaned back. “Show me your teeth.” Murphy bared them. “You’ve got an overbite.” It was sexy. “But it doesn’t make you a werewolf.”

  “I can see I’m going to have to prove it to you.”

  “How?” Was there a membership card to werewolf-dom? And why was it so important she believed this crazy tale? Murphy didn’t need to come across any more exciting than he was. Truro was already hooked.

  “At the right time and place.” Murphy cupped her ass. “Jump up and wrap your legs around me.”

  “I never jump.” As fitness went the most Truro could manage was a fast walk.

  “Humor me.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to fuck you fast and hard and give you something to think about all day long,” Murphy whispered against her ear.

  Truro immediately jumped into his arms. “I don’t think that van can take another earth-shaking moment.”

  Murphy’s eyes locked with hers. “Did I shake your world?” He started carrying her off toward the trees.

  From the moment you walked into my life. “Where are we going?” Not that it mattered. All she could feel was the promise of rigid cock and a hard, male body.

  “Back to nature.”

  “I’m not good with nature. Once I ran into this huge spider’s nest and I screamed and screamed until Gil came and removed it from my hair.” Truro shuddered at the thought of it. “Gil told me I was a wuss.”

  Murphy laughed at her words. “That sounds like Gil.”

  “You know Gil as well?” What was going on? Murphy had been in town for a couple of days and yet he was more of a local than she was.

  “I know him somewhat.”

  Right. The “somewhat” thing again. Her feet touched the ground as Murphy lowered her. His hands were fast on her body as he started to remove her clothes. “You a little desperate there, fella?” It was exciting to have someone need her so much.

  “Every moment from you kills me.”

  Truro reached over and unzipped his fly. His cock sprang out in gratitude. “Not everything is dead.” Truro was naked before she knew what was happening. “Why am I naked and you’re not?”

  “Feeling vulnerable?” Murphy pushed her up against a tree.

  The papery bark of the gum tree tickled her back and ass. “Yes.”

  “Good.” His hand reached into his pocket, his cock bobbed and swayed awaiting action.

  “How is that good, wolf man?” And am I turning into a complete slut just at the thought of this man’s cock inside me? And if so, is that a bad thing?

  “Because it shows the real you, petal.” Murphy found the condom he was looking for and made short work of covering his cock.

  Truro knew she could have said “no” at any time with Murphy but it wasn’t a word that came naturally to her lips with him. “What? Desperate?”

  Murphy closed the distance between them. “Yes, I want you as helpless with need for me as I am for you.” His hands caught hers and held them above her head as he started to kiss her.

  As primitive as it was to be naked in the bush and under the control of this man, it was also sensual and sweet due to the loving kisses he placed on her mouth. Murphy’s lips slid and sucked, nipped and d
evoured hers making Truro want him with a hunger she was unaware she possessed. He kissed her for what seemed like hours. Truro didn’t care who may see them or what they would think. There was only her and Murphy and kisses that drugged her senses yet begged for a completion that only he could give her. Truro pulled down her hands and tore at his shirt, needing to touch his skin, see his tattoo and feel the heat of his body against hers.

  Truro broke off the kiss when she caught sight of the long scratch down the side of his body. “Oh crap, did I do that last time?” The thought she had hurt him bit into her.

  Murphy lifted her into his arms, pressing her back against the tree. “It’s of no consequence.”

  “It is if I hurt you.” Truro jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist ready to meet his thrust. I need him. I want him. And God help me, I love him.

  “It wasn’t you, petal.” Murphy guided the head of his cock into her wet vagina.

  Truro sighed as the length of his shaft plunged into her, filling her up and making her forget about anything but the two of them. “You make me feel—”

  “What, petal?” His mouth teased her lips as his hips bucked against hers in a slow, rhythmic pace.

  “Like I belong.” That was a feeling Truro had never felt until Murphy.

  “You belong to me as I do to you,” Murphy growled in a low voice of possession. His thrusts became deeper and harder.

  It was impossible to stop the scream that tore from her lips as the rush of orgasm spread thought her body, making her shake and pant with need and fulfillment. “I love you, wolf man.” Truro stiffened as she realized what she had said. Her eyes locked with his and she knew there was no way she could deny what she had said. This is meant to be.

  “Thank you.” Murphy kissed her hard as his release made her body bump and thrust against his. It was primal and passionate and each held onto the other, not wanting to let go. “I will never get enough of you.”

  ———

  Two hours later

  “Another man was attacked.” Gil was grim-faced as he delivered the news. “They are sending out men with guns to kill the wolves.”

  William sighed tiredly. “We cannot relocate now. It is too close to the time of the clan’s full coming together. The circle has not been completed yet.” There was still Truro to commit to Murphy and Gil had gotten nowhere with the dark woman in town.

  “What choice do we have?” Gil didn’t look happy that he had to say the words.

  Murphy shook his head. “We stay and we hold our ground.” He turned to William. “Is it Absolon?”

  William looked at the younger man and felt relief. This was their next leader. The clan would be in good hands.

  “Yes. I feel it in my bones.” They were old but they had seen and endured much and only one man had ever made William feel as he was feeling now. “But we’re not just fighting him. Now it will also be the town against us.”

  “They can’t shoot at night,” Gil pointed out.

  “They can with spotlights,” Murphy countered back.

  William was still leader. And I will save my clan. “We go carefully in the night and move everyone to the farthest part away from town. Down near the old mines we will find safety.”

  Murphy nodded. “How do we find Absolon?”

  “He will find us when he’s ready.” William had no doubt of that. “He doesn’t expect the locals will be successful in killing us. He wants to scatter and divide the clan and hope one of the locals will take the odd potshot and kill a few wolves.”

  “He will never succeed in that,” Murphy declared. “I will see him dead first.”

  Chapter Five

  “I want to hire a van.”

  Truro looked at the man who was limping toward her. Tall with gray hair and dressed in a fine leather overcoat and well-cut trousers. He could not have looked less like a van park resident if he tried. The long-term inhabitants who called the Rambling Rose home were generally dressed in torn jeans, flannelette shirts and some heavy metal band t-shirt. It didn’t matter which rock god adorned the shirt. They all looked alike. The odd tourist who stopped by on their way to Brisbane was usually a blend of chain store chic and tourist stand couture. This man was neither. He clearly had money. So why was he wanting to stay in a seen-better-days caravan park?

  “What are you staring at?” the man asked in a hard voice.

  Am I that obvious? “Well you just don’t look the van sort.” Nor the Red Kangaroo. Actually what the hell he was doing out in the middle of nowhere was the question.

  “I want to rough it for a while.”

  “I see.” Trendy urbanite wanting to play trailer trash for a while. Well, what the hell. It was his fantasy and Truro was happy to take his cash. “I have one van left but—”

  “I’ll take it.”

  “It’s not glamorous but I guess if you want to ‘rough it’…” Truro looked him up and down. “You know, those are not really ‘roughing it’ clothes.”

  The man bristled in defense. “I have to purchase some yet.”

  “Sure you do.” Step one: purchase rough clothes. Step two: eat beans out of a can. Step three: learn how to belch like a commoner. Truro knew the sort. He probably had some strange idea that he was going to find himself in the simple life. She sighed and headed into the office to do the paperwork and get the keys. “So what do you plan to do in Ludlum?” Once you got drunk at the Red Kangaroo and had seen the 1967 photo of the monster fish caught down at the Ludlum waterhole there wasn’t much to do in town.

  “Just check out the local color.”

  “Well, we’ve got that.” The last van for rental was beside the barbeque boys and their language and antics would be plenty colorful.

  The sudden sound of the wolves once more echoed around Ludlum. Truro saw the man grimace. “You don’t like wolves?” It was strange, more and more, they were active during the day. In the past it was only at night. While Truro was yet to see one up close, she wasn’t keen to see them wander into the van park.

  “They’re vermin.”

  “Well, some nitwit imported them here from America and we’re stuck with them. Sort of like The Simpsons. They are continuously there on the television because someone thought it was a good idea.”

  “They should be hunted.”

  “They’re cartoon characters.” Truro snorted as she pulled open a drawer to find the keys to the last van. “Though, when you think about how annoying they are—”

  The man snatched the keys from her hand. “The wolves.”

  “Oh yeah, them. Do you have a hunter’s license?” If he was here to hunt, Truro would have to tell Gil. In an unofficial capacity Gil looked after the local wildlife. The last thing they needed was some townie coming out and shooting up the place. “You know, folks around here are kind of fond of the wolves. I don’t know why but if it makes ’em happy then that’s all that matters.” Truro was a live-and-let-live person.

  “Happiness is vastly overrated.”

  “Yep, I’d have to agree with that.” Truro took his money and scribbled off a receipt. “But it’s not up to me to judge what others need.”

  ———

  Truro spent the next couple of hours looking up werewolves on the internet. While she loved and admired Bess, Truro knew it was crazy to take her words seriously. Yet Murphy seemed to be caught up in the whole werewolf thing as well. I am a werewolf. “Sure you are and I’m really twenty pounds lighter than I say I am,” Truro mumbled to herself her fingers clicked over the computer keyboard owned by the Ludlum Library.

  What started out as a vague interest to see what Bess and Murphy were talking about soon became more. Truro was quite surprised at how quickly she became caught up in reading werewolf mythology. Or in this case mythologies. Everyone had a different interpretation of werewolves from the hairy-faced schlock horror film characters, to bloodthirsty killers terrorizing a town, to soulful men looking for their true love. Truro stopped and thought about that. It sounded lik
e Murphy. “Or maybe I just need to get out more and not have my head turned so easily by sex.” Her fingers skittered across the keys in search of more information. “But damn, it was bloody good sex.” She closed her eyes and crossed her legs as she thought up the surge of power that was Murphy as he took control over her heart and body and made her his own.

  “Falling asleep in the library instead of at work, Tru?”

  Truro looked up to see the amusement in Gil’s eyes. “No, really, if anyone tells you you’re not funny, don’t believe it.”

  “You’re adorable.”

  Truro grinned. “I know.”

  Gil sat down beside her. “Anyone new at the caravan park?”

  “Well gee, Gil, I suspect you already know the answer to that if you’re here to pump me for info.”

  “Did I mention you’re also smart?”

  Truro turned her attention to her friend. She could see something was worrying him. Truro had heard about the second wolf attack. She knew some of the local men planned on hunting the wolves. Truro had a feeling Gil, nature lover that he was, would be worried about what else they shot in the bush. “There’s a new guy in van eleven. He doesn’t like the wolves.”

  “He a hunter?”

  He’s a predator. Gut instinct told her that. The man seemed to watch everyone and everything. He even freaked the barbeque boys out and that in itself was unusual for they cornered the market on all things odd. “He says not nor is he from around here. He sticks out like a sore thumb.”

  “As do you.”

  “Oh come on, Gillard. I’ve been here two freaking years. I’m a local.” Sorta. Kinda. Oh hell, I never fit in anywhere. That was why Truro kept on moving. Until now. And why was that? Visions of Murphy came to her.

  “A local who chooses not to go farther than the edge of town.” Gil gave her a playful nudge.

  I’ll have you know I was fucked up against a tree and I loved it. Too much information. “Well, animals lurk in the bush.” If Murphy had not literally taken her there Truro would not have gone by herself.

 

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