by Lynn Marie
They eyed each other for a moment, both unsure of how to begin. It was Evelyn’s idea, but Mrs. Morley’s town. The silence was heavy and awkward.
“So how should we—“
“Here’s what I was thinking—“
They both stopped. With a small smile, Mrs. Morley gestured for her to go on and busied herself with adding sugar to her coffee.
“All right, so here’s what I was thinking. We’ll need to contact the fire department in Kotestown, because it’s their fair. The organizer will be able to tell us how much it will be to rent a booth—“
“We don’t need to rent a booth. Julia Wilson’s son Kenny is a carpenter. He’ll make us one.”
As she spoke, Evelyn started jotting things down. “Okay, great. We will have to rent the space, though. And maybe we can get Marge Blackwood to make a sign so it looks professional. We’ll need to arrange transport to and from the fair. Shouldn’t be a problem, what with all the pick up trucks around here. Then, for the pies… I can get the supplies wholesale with my business license and we can turn them around for I’m thinking at least a 100% profit that way, if not 150% to help cover the booth space renting. Here’s what I was thinking for the flavors,” she turned around the legal pad and slid it over to Mrs. Morley. “Some of these are freezable—we could even sell some ‘ready-to-bake’ pies from a cooler and save ourselves the oven space the day before.”
Halfway through Evelyn’s diatribe, Mrs. Morley stopped hiding her astonishment. “That’s… a good idea.”
Evelyn felt her cheeks heat. “Sorry if I’m being controlling. I tend to kind of take over with this sort of thing.”
The older woman’s eyes narrowed. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
Evelyn was moderately taken aback. “Of course. I’d never offer to do something if I didn’t plan on giving it 100%.”
“And why would you care about some falling-down old bridge?”
“History should be preserved, not forgotten. I’d like to see that bridge restored.”
The first honest-to-goodness sincere smile she’d ever seen lifted the older woman’s lips. “Honestly, it’ll be a relief not to have to coordinate the entire darn thing myself. Maurine—Mrs. Kennedy—can help with delivery and manning the booth. You can take care of ordering the supplies and running the kitchen. I’ll call Ed over at Kotestown Fire Department and Julia for the booth. Want me to dole out the pie responsibility?”
“That would be perfect. I’m sure you know better than me who should be baking what.”
She nodded in satisfaction. “And maybe…” she cleared her throat, somewhat awkwardly, “we can do a swap? I’m dying to know what’s in those chocolate muffins.”
Evelyn laughed. “We’ll see.”
They continued to drink coffee and discuss details for the next hour or so. As it turned out, Mrs. Morley—or, Elizabeth, as Evelyn had been given leave to call her—was good company. She was a profound gossip, but entertaining and an astute observer. As she rose to leave, Evelyn glanced out the window and was surprised to find herself staring straight into Trip’s curious face as he watched her exchange with Mrs. Morley through the window. She lifted two fingers in greeting and he half-smiled in acknowledgment before continuing down the road towards the barbershop.
“So we’ll meet up again next Tuesday?”
“Sounds good to me! I’ll bring Julia next time. That woman needs to know what a good cup of coffee really tastes like,” Elizabeth said with a conspiratorial wink.
Evelyn chortled and waved goodbye to her new, unlikely ally.
Chapter 12
“So I’ll see you in a little bit?” Evelyn fumbled with the phone at her ear and balanced her bag of groceries on her leg so she could free up a hand to unlock her door.
“I’m thinking we stay in tonight.”
As she rolled her eyes at Michael—he was always thinking that—she felt her own body responding to his gravelly tone that promised wicked things. Her nipples pebbled and her lower stomach contracted. How did he do that through the phone?
“Sounds good to me. In fact, I just got some stuff to make dinner.” If she could ever get inside… the lock wasn’t budging.
“Mmm. Good girl,” he all but purred.
She shivered. “Michael—”
“Yeah, you like it when I call you that don’t you?”
She tried jiggling the key in her lock. Dumb thing didn’t know when it was beat. “You know I do, but I’ve got—”
“What are you wearing?”
She let out an exasperated laugh and switched her phone to the other ear. “You’ll find out. I’ll see you in a bit, ok?”
“Here, Evelyn. Let me get that for you.”
Startled, she jerked and almost lost hold of everything. A quick glance told her it was Trip. She started to protest, “no, it’s ok—” but nearly dropped her bag of groceries again trying to return her phone to her purse.
He chuckled and stepped in. Her groceries securely in his arms, she was able to line up the door correctly so she could unlock it.
“Mike’s shirking his duties. He should fix that for you,” Trip said.
“He doesn’t have to. I’ll get around to it someday… it’s on my list,” she muttered. Her list seemed a mile long. It would be nice to give some of it to Michael. He’d probably get it done in half the time because he wouldn’t even have to watch any YouTube tutorials.
As she worked the key back out of the lock, she glanced up at Trip out of the corner of her eye, trying to put her finger on why this felt weird. She was wary of him, considering how strained their last few interactions had been, but there was something else, too. Maybe because she hadn’t ever interacted with Trip on his own. She never even saw him alone.
When he was in his usual place at Michael’s side, he was shadowed. Michael’s presence had a way of commanding attention. But he really was good-looking with his height and build and floppy blonde hair, and he had a certain aw-shucks demeanor that could be charming.
“Thanks for your help,” she said as she recovered her key and slid it into her pocket.
“No problem. So I, ah… I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Hey, Trip! Your Alpha know you’re moving in on his girl? Or do you two share?”
Trip whirled around as Brock sauntered by with two other guys. Both were snickering and one was eyeing Evelyn in a way that made her feel a little dirty.
“Fuck off, Brock.”
“Hell, if she’s giving it away, I’ll take a piece,” he winked lasciviously at her.
She was so stunned and outraged, she couldn’t think of a thing to say. When were high school insults going to lose their potency? She, Trip and Brock all knew nothing was going on, but it didn’t make her feel any better.
She glared at his retreating form. “What a creep.”
“Don’t let him bug you.”
She flipped her hair and straightened her spine. She reached for her bag of groceries, which Trip handed over automatically. “I won’t. So, you wanted to talk to me about something?”
“Oh, yeah…” he trailed off, staring down the street after Brock. Almost like he wanted to make sure the guy would really leave her alone—it was like the kind of sweet, protective thing Michael would have done. She was actually a little warmed by it. “Right. So, uh, Mike’s birthday is coming up. We should plan something.”
Not what she was expecting. “Isn’t his birthday in September?”
“Yeah.”
“So we’ve got like two months?”
He shook his head. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I just wanted to make sure it was on your radar, I guess.”
She smiled. “I think it’s a nice idea. Maybe let me get through the bake sale first, though.”
“Right, right. How goes the planning for that thing, anyway?”
“Really good, actually. I was worried about the trio that signed up to help me—you might have noticed I wasn’t their favorite perso
n when I first moved in—but apparently all they needed to come around was a good cup of coffee and a recipe swap. We’ve been having planning meetings and there’s talk of me joining the book club.” She chuckled, remembering Julia’s face when she’d revealed it was more of a wine club than a book club.
His eyebrows shot up. “Wow, that’s incredible. I never would have thought they’d come around so easily.”
She shrugged and shifted her grocery bag to her hip. “Me either.”
Trip nodded, more to himself than to her. He seemed lost in it for a moment as his eyes lost focus, then he snapped back just as quickly and smiled at her. He glanced down, noticing she was still balancing her bag. “All right, well, I should let you get those upstairs. I heard Mike on the phone earlier, so tell him I said hi.”
“How did you—“ she cut herself off with a shake of her head. Wolf-senses. Extraordinary hearing. “Okay, yeah I will. Good night.”
He paused, staring at her. She tensed as he took a step forward, but realized he was just saying goodbye. After a brief, awkward hug and two friendly pats on her back, he pulled away. “’Night.”
Brock’s taunt rang in her ears as she climbed the steps and started to pull together dinner. Not that she even entertained the idea of it, but anyone who’d seen her and Trip’s uncomfortable goodbye would ever think there was a spark there. Stupid. It was stupid and Brock was a stupid kid who, for some reason, had it out for Michael and, by extension, her.
She grabbed her Bluetooth speaker. She’d never been much good at doing three things at once, so cooking and listening to music would hopefully eliminate any unfocused thoughts. She hummed along as she assembled the marinade for the chicken.
As Miles Davis finished up his solo and she finished up her salad, a deep voice stirred the air just next to her ear. It made her jump, falling right back into the large, warm body behind her. “You shouldn’t listen to your music so loud. Anyone could come in to ravish you and you wouldn’t hear them.”
Her breath quickened and she leaned into Michael, rolling her hips in a circle. “Maybe I want to be ravished.”
Suddenly, she found herself cornered. Michael’s pelvis against her lower back and his arms on either side of her completely boxed her in against the counter. It was all she could do to hold on. The smell of him—pine and salt and coffee—enveloped her and overwhelmed her senses.
“You want to be ravished, huh?” She could hear a satisfied grin in his voice. She loved how much he loved her willingness. It took so little from him to get her going, but he enjoyed drawing it out and who was she to complain?
He leaned down and nuzzled her neck. His stubble scratched her skin, but his lips were velvet soft. It was the most erotic mixture of sensations. When he leaned in harder, she was forced to lock onto the counter to keep herself upright and he took full advantage. One hand snaked around to grab her breast, pulling her back against him so his other hand had space to slide in front, below the waistband of her skirt. He hissed softly into her ear, his long middle finger finding her as wet as ever.
He tweaked her nipple and she bit down on a soft cry. “Is this what you had in mind?”
“It’s a start,” she said, deliberately baiting him. He chuckled and pulled back as she spun around. She didn’t care that they were in the kitchen—she wanted him right now. She stared down at his cock through his jeans and wet her lips. “But maybe I want to ravish you.”
He swallowed a moan and nodded. “Get on your knees, Evelyn.”
Happily, she submitted. The hardwood floor hurt her knees, but she ignored it as she reached up to undo his jeans. She unzipped them, watching the anticipation well on his face, and slid them down his heavily muscled legs. Once his erection was free, it projected in front of him, impatient and impressive. She wrapped both of her hands around his thick length and, with slow strokes, moved her palms up and down. When precum glistened at the slit opening at the top, she leaned forward and kissed it.
He groaned his approval as she licked the salty drop from her lips. A quick glance up at him was instant proof she was going in the right direction. His head was thrown back and he was clutching the counter behind him with white knuckles. Cupping the heavy weight of his balls in her right hand and steadying his shaft with her left, she tentatively took the engorged head into her mouth. She licked up and down his length, tasting the musk and saltiness of his skin
“Fuck, that’s good. Deeper, Evelyn.”
She opened wider to swallow more of him and gently squeezed his balls. Encouraged by his groans, she went farther. The tip of him hit the back of her throat and she fought the gag. She couldn’t take him all, so she wrapped her hand around what was left and rotated it in circles.
Then she sucked.
His hands rested on the sides of her head, but he didn’t hold her or encourage her to go deeper. He just needed something to hold onto. So she continued to suck, alternating pressure as her head bobbed up and down along his cock.
Her pussy dripped with moisture and pounded with need, so she let go of his balls and rubbed herself through the layers of skirt and panties.
“Oh yeah, that’s it. Touch yourself, Evelyn.”
She rubbed up and down through the fabric and moaned in frustrated pleasure. She needed more. But as the vibrations from her throat permeated through the member in her mouth, he gripped her head harder.
She’d always loved sucking cock—she supposed she had an oral fixation, because she usually had something in her mouth. She chewed on pens, her fingernails, the end of her sunglasses… But nothing compared to a nice, big dick in her mouth. Deep-throating had never really been her forte, but oral sex had never turned her off like it did for some women.
“Get up here right now. Time to be ravished.”
She pulled back, releasing his cock with a fleshy pop of her cheeks. As she began to stand, he got impatient and lifted her around the waist until her feet were just touching the floor. He spun her so she faced the sink and bent her over.
“Hold on to this,” he commanded, wrapping her fingers around the edge of the counter. “And spread your legs.”
She did, assuming the position he wanted. He stepped back for a moment and she could feel his eyes on her. Her sex wept in response and wetness seeped through her panties. She felt so bare, so needy, and it was seriously turning her on.
“You love this, don’t you, my good girl?”
A wanton, garbled noise rose in her throat and she tossed her head back as her hair fell in her face. “Michael,” she moaned.
Without warning, he moved in, pressing his mouth against her neck and pressing his erection into her ass. It forced her back against the counter, putting pressure on her bladder, which, weirdly, shot another bolt of electricity straight through her core.
“Say it again,” he said against her skin, hooking his fingers through the sides of her panties and drawing them slowly—achingly slowly—down her legs.
“What?” she asked, dazed.
“My name. Say it,” he ordered, running his tongue along the column of her neck, following it with his teeth. Underwear now around her knees, she was laid totally bare as he lifted her skirt.
“Michael,” she whispered, smiling in anticipation for what was coming.
“Hold on,” he instructed tersely—she could hear the restraint in his voice. In one fluid motion, he grabbed her hips and thrust himself inside of her. She was so wet and ready and he was already lubricated with her saliva, so she felt him against her womb as he slid home in one push.
They both cried out, but he recovered more quickly. “So hot,” he murmured, using his grip on her hips to anchor him as he pulled back out.
Her breath became ragged and she shut her eyes against the sensation of him filling her, pushing and pulling at her most sensitive area. He moved out until just the tip was inside her and she moaned at the empty feeling. When he drove back in, he hit that spot that sent a jolt through her body. Her legs nearly buckled.
“Michael,” she cried.
His hands came up around her waist and tightened around her as he thrust harder, faster. She was positioned perfectly, so he hit her g-spot every time he came inside of her. In and out, in and out; he kept going until she had to lock her elbows to keep from falling onto the counter.
She felt her climax building, an exquisite pressure in her abdomen. She clenched her teeth and pushed back on him as he thrust.
Her orgasm crashed over her, stealing her breath and making her thrash and twist between him and the cold surface under her. Right at the peak of her release, he grabbed her chin and pulled her head around so he could lock his lips with hers. His tongue penetrated her mouth in time with his penis.
She felt him come, the gentle but noticeable pulsing inside her, and lost her grip on the counter. He caught her before she fell and held her against him.
After dinner, they went right to her bed. He could’ve gone another round, but she was exhausted. Besides, he liked the pillow talk and closeness he felt when they laid together, even without sex.
She traced lines on his chest through the hair. Suddenly, she laughed. “You know, it’s weird.”
“What is?”
“Maybe it’s like that thing when you buy a certain car and then you start seeing them everywhere, but ever since you told me about the wolf shifting, I swear I’ve been seeing wolves everywhere.”
“Everywhere?” Michael asked sharply, lifting her chin so he could look her in the eye.
“Well… ok, maybe not everywhere, but I swear I’ve seen at least three. Or maybe the same one a few times…”
“Where?”
“Well, they’ve always been sort of in the periphery or kind of far off in the woods, but—“
“When did you see them?” he asked again, this time a little more gently.
She ticked them off on her fingers. “When I was crossing the street to go to the grocery store today, when I was closing the bakery a couple days ago, when I visited my sister last week and yesterday morning when I was leaving your place.”
