Tommie couldn’t get enough of him; the feel of him, the scent of him, the taste of him. He was hers. She kissed his eyes and felt the flutter of his lashes against her tongue. Her eyes, her lashes. She nuzzled him nose to nose, tasted his cheeks, felt the roughness of his day old beard against her chin, ran a line of sweet kisses across his brow. Her hands gripped the sides of his head, forcing his mouth back to hers. Her body trembled with excitement. Her breath came in hot, heavy pants.
“Mine. Mine. Mine.”
The hand gripping her hair pulled back, forcing her chin up and her mouth away from where she wanted it to be. She made a sound of protest, but Bull ignored it. His mouth devoured her throat, sucking, nibbling, teasing her with his tongue. He worked his way from the underside of her chin, along her jaw to the lobe of her ear, leaving a tendril of fire in his wake. The tendril burst into a streak of hot lightning when he nuzzled the neck of her sweater aside and bit down on the crook of her neck.
It wasn’t painful, just a light nip, but the sizzle of heat it produced ran through her body straight to her core. A sound like a growl rumbled deep in her throat.
Bull stopped, pulled away from her, and angled her head to look at her with eyes that weren’t quite human. The pupil had lengthened, no longer rounded but oval. The iris expanded, glowing eerily in the darkness. She was looking into the eyes of his wolf and she liked what she saw.
In a blink, Bull’s eyes became human again, but lost none of their intensity. “Here or the tent?” he asked, his whisper loud in the stillness of the night.
She released her legs from his waist and slid down his body until her feet touched the ground. Placing her hands against his chest, she rolled her eyes heavenward as if deciding, then grinned as she pushed off and ran.
He was right behind her when she reached the tent. When she dropped to her knees to crawl inside, his hand cracked her ass with a thump. The force of it sent her flying onto the bed of blankets thrown over a thin foam mat. The door was zipped and he was on her before she had a chance to fully turn.
His hands ran up her sides, taking her sweater with them. She was blinded for a moment as he peeled it up over her head. He left it on the arms she’d raised to aid in its removal. While she struggled to remove the tangled sweater from her arms, Bull struggled with her jeans, tugging and pulling them over her hips.
“You’ve put on weight already.”
“Is that a compliment or complaint.” Her laugh was a whisper of air.
“Both,” he said.
The jeans came free. Boots were tossed, along with the jeans, socks and panties. Straddling her legs, he kissed her mound, then drew a line with the tip of his tongue to her navel. At her sharp intake of breath, he immediately stopped.
“If I hurt you, you’ll tell me, right? It’s only been a couple of days.”
“I’m a wolver, remember? I heal fast and the only thing that’s hurting is you in those tight jeans.” She curled forward and grabbed his belt buckle. “We need to fix that.” She shoved him back and he let her.
She had his shirt off and tugged at his jeans. When he tried to help, she slapped at his hands. “My present, I get to unwrap it.”
“You’re a pushy woman.”
“I’m a hungry woman,” she laughed as his erection bobbed out in front of her nose. A whiff of something else caught her attention; corned beef, cheese, sauerkraut, rye. “Do I smell a Rueben?” Her eyes searched the tent.
“Damn, spitfire, you sure know how to burst a guy’s bubble. Thrown over for a corned beef sandwich.”
“Not just any corned beef sandwich, a Rueben. We all have our favorites,” she laughed. “Hey!”
Tommie found herself in the same position she’d been in a moment before. Only this time her legs were thrown over his shoulders and his face was buried between them.
“Mine’s chocolate,” he said as his tongue started its search.
“Well, you won’t find any down there,” she giggled before she gasped.
“I know. I’m working my way up to it.”
He worked her, ye gods, how he worked her. Fingers and tongue, the man knew what he was doing and he did it well. He tormented. He teased. He found every spot that made her gasp, pant, or beg for more and the wolfy bastard enjoyed it. He laughed when she swore at him for bringing her up, up and up and then withdrawing until she fell back to earth only to bring her up until she was begging once again.
“Please, please, please.”
“Is this what you want?” he snickered as his fingers pumped in and out, in and out, unerringly massaging the sweet spot inside her that most men never found.
“Yes, yes, yes!” The current of her orgasm traveled out through her body in waves. Her head went back, her body arched, and for a moment, sight and sound vanished.
And then she was in his arms and he was kissing her eyes and cheeks and brow and whispering in his deep, deep voice.
“Beautiful, so beautiful.”
“Me? The skinny assed wolver?”
He laughed again, though she hadn’t meant to be funny.
“Yes, you. My beautiful skinny assed wolver.”
He kissed her lips, her neck. He suckled her breasts, gently giving her time to recover, but not to relax. And when her hands began to roam over his body, exploring the mountains of muscle and the valleys between them, he entered her slowly with a sigh of satisfaction.
He began to move within her and just as with his kisses, he was slow and gentle until he felt her rise to meet him. At her whimper of need, he increased his pace little by little until he was pounding into her. With feet planted firmly, hips rising and falling, she met him thrust for thrust. Once again her body tensed and shivered with the rising tide of her orgasm. He rode the wave with her, forcing himself deeper and deeper, taking her measure and filling her with his own.
He groaned his pleasure, gave one last thrust, and as his own wave crested and fell, he collapsed onto her, bracing himself on his forearms to protect her from his crushing weight. He buried his face in the crook of her neck.
“That was,” he panted, “That was...”
“The bomb. When can we do it again?”
He turned round three over to her and all he had to do was lay back and enjoy it. Tommie certainly did.
Chapter 16
Tommie was smiling when Bull rolled off of her and onto his back with a contented look on his face. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on his body and he felt as if he’d run a marathon.
“Damn, spitfire, and here I thought you were one of those cool and quiet types.”
“I was quiet,” Tommie giggled.
Bull shook his head. “I’m too tired to laugh.”
Tommie, too, was exhausted, but energized as well. Making love, having sex, whatever you wanted to call it with Bull had freed something in her. She knew her wolf was partly responsible, but it was more than that.
For the first time in her life, she felt comfortable with who she was. She knew where she wanted to go and knew who she wanted to go there with. She was wolver and she belonged with Bull.
“Mate,” her wolf sighed contentedly and Tommie understood now what she hadn’t before. To her wolf, mate was more than a word. It was more than a word to her now, too.
“Yeah,” she said in agreement and that added to her happiness. After years of fighting the creature inside her, they were finally on the same wavelength.
“Yeah?” Bull asked sleepily and sounding like he thought he’d missed something.
She couldn’t tell him. He’d think her a fool for being so sure of such of thing after so short a time.
“It surprised me, too. It must be my wolf,” she said since their wolves seemed to be at the core of everything wolvers did. “You have no idea what being locked in that cage did to her.”
A stillness came over Bull that had nothing to do with a lack of movement.
“Yeah, I do.”
His voice was so low even her wolf’s ears had a hard time hearing him.
Those three words were so filled with pain and regret, she knew he wasn’t speaking of himself.
Tommie rolled from her position on her back beside him to one where she could mold herself to his side. She placed her hand on his chest, over his heart, and her head on his shoulder where her mouth would be close to his ear.
“Who?” she whispered, because instinct told her he needed to say it.
“I watched my mother die in one.”
~*~
“Oh, Bull.”
Her voice, so soft and filled with sorrow, touched him in a way he couldn’t explain.
Most women would want to know the details. They’d press him to talk about his feelings. What good would that do? It sure as hell wouldn’t bring his parents or the others back.
Bull waited for Tommie to ask so he could make it clear that this slip of the tongue didn’t mean he wanted to ‘share’. She didn’t ask and he wondered why he should be surprised. Tommie wasn’t like most women. She understood about keeping some secrets to yourself.
She pressed her body closer as if that little body could keep his big one warm. The amazing thing was that it did. There was a softness to her, a kindness that had nothing to do with her shape or size. Amidst her own personal problems, she’d chosen a career where she took on others’ problems, too. Well, she didn’t need to take on his.
“It was a long time ago,” he told her. He ran his hand along her back to let her know he was okay. “It doesn’t matter.”
She inched her way across his chest until her lips touched his chin. Her kiss was like the flutter of butterfly wings. Her breath was warm as she spoke against his skin.
“Of course it matters. You loved her and time doesn’t change that. She was a good woman who didn’t deserve to die that way and it hurts.”
Bull changed his mind about her not being like other women. “Here it comes,” he thought. “Tell me about her.” But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He lifted his head and looked down at the little wolver lying across his chest and waited for it. When it didn’t come, he tried to make light of her concern.
“You wouldn’t know if she was good or not. She could have been a thief and a murderer.”
“If she was, she had her reasons.” Tommie shrugged and Bull felt the pleasure of her small breasts moving against his chest. “It doesn’t matter. She was still a good woman. I know. I’ve met her son.”
Bull snorted a little laugh. “If you think I’m a good man, you really are crazy, spitfire.”
Another shrug. “Maybe I am, but in my line of work, I’ve seen both sides of the coin when it comes to men. You can’t fool me, Bull. You’re one of the good guys.”
~*~
Cora nodded her head at Bull and the five little boys who were working together to bring him to the ground. The play looked pretty rough, but no one else seemed to mind so Tommie kept her thoughts to herself.
“Can’t figure why he hasn’t settled with a family of his own,” Cora said along with the nod. “Look how he is with them pups, organizing, teaching, and having a whale of a good time doing it. Now you tell me, what’s a man like that doing with a pack of males? No females, no pups, it’s not natural. I can tell you that.
Tommie stirred the buttons in the tin box beside her, searching for one that would match the shirt on her lap. Everyone in the camp was busy and when Cora asked if she could help with the mending, Tommie volunteered to sew buttons since she wasn’t much of a seamstress. Now, it was a good excuse to keep her head down and her face hidden by a curtain of hair so her new friend wouldn’t see her smile.
The woman had been going on about Bull for the last twenty minutes. By adding up the few facts she’d gleaned from the man and a few more of her own that came largely from speculation, Cora had arrived at a conclusion. The man suited her requirements perfectly.
“That Bull is a natural leader. He’s strong, brave, cunning, and has a mighty fine ass.” She took a break from her sewing to admire that fine ass since Bull was bent double with the weight of the five pups piling on his shoulders.
“Is a fine ass a priority for leadership?” Tommie sputtered. She found a button that would do and held it in place with thumb and forefinger.
“No, but having something pretty to look at don’t hurt none, and that man is as pretty as they come.”
Tommie wasn’t sure Bull would take being called pretty as a compliment. Personally, she couldn’t see it either. He was big, but not bulky, muscular in a you-don-t-want-to-mess-with-me sort of way, and he had hands that could work magic if the night before was a sample of his talents. His face was a wide oval, his jaw square, his nose straight. He was a good looking man, but certainly not pretty. It was his eyes that kept his face from being ordinary. Dark lashed, they were neither wide nor close set, not large nor small. There was nothing extraordinary about them until they looked into your eyes and then you felt as if he could see your soul.
“What’s he told you about that pack of his?”
Cora’s question startled her and she jabbed her finger with her needle. “I heard it this morning same as you,” she said around the finger in her mouth.
Since she’d awakened after Bull, she’d only heard the story second hand, but his explanation offered to the others at the communal breakfast that morning, of his pack and its purpose seemed a little vague.
“It would be a crying shame if he was one of those fellers with a preference for other males, but at least I could understand it,” the older woman went on. “He ain’t though.” She dug her elbow into Tommie’s side and winked. “You ought to know that first hand.”
“I don’t...”
Cora didn’t miss a stitch. “Honey, you crawled out of that tent this morning looking like you’d spent the night in heaven.”
“I did not.”
“Did too,” Cora laughed. “The way you were looking at him, I thought he’d sprout wings and a halo any minute.” She patted Tommie’s knee. “Nothing wrong with that now, and you aren’t the only wolver who was smiling this morning. The full moon got to us all.” She sobered. “Except for poor Molly and ol’ Boris.”
“Yeah, what’s up with him?”
Boris was the camp cook. She’d met the one-eyed man the night before after Samuel sent her, along with the other two women, back to camp while he waited for Bull. One side of the young man’s face was badly scarred. The tight, discolored skin of previous burns distorted the shape of his eye, nose and mouth. The other side of his face showed the handsome young man he should have been. At the time, he seemed happy enough to see her. He’d just returned from going over the moon and was more than willing to swap recipes with her once he learned she liked to cook.
“This morning, when I held out my plate for the ham and eggs he was dishing up, he snarled at me and I don’t know what I did.”
“You came out of Bull’s tent looking like you died and went to heaven, that’s what you did. Hearing about that all male pack gave the man hope and you coming out of that tent so obviously satisfied took it away again. He had a fella back in the old pack, but when push came to shove, Trevor didn’t want to leave. He was moving up in the world and swore he’d take Boris with him. Trevor, poor dumb cluck, thought it could happen. Boris knew it couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“A one eyed wolf isn’t going anywhere but washing dishes in the kitchen or begging on the streets. Not to mention, our Alpha was a sonofabitch about that kind of thing. He’s a sonofabitch about a lot of things.”
“Is that why you left?” Tommie asked, happy to turn the subject away from Bull.
“Not really. We’ve had worse and sooner or later he’d be Challenged and replaced. They always are.”
“Then why leave? Why not wait it out?” She already knew from their talk in the truck that walking away from your Alpha and your pack and going rogue was a step few wolvers wanted to take.
“We were afraid it’d be later, not sooner, and too late for Macey.”
Macey was Cora�
�s granddaughter. “Didn’t I hear someone say she just turned fifteen?”
“Indeed you did. She hadn’t had her first shift yet, but the Alpha, he was already sniffing around her and laying the groundwork for when she did. He was always flirting with her and bringing her small gifts. Flattery goes a long way when you’re that age and she thought she was something fine.
“He was preparing for the day of her first going over. He’d take her over and then take her and no one, not even her daddy, could say no. The day you run as a wolf is the day you become an adult. You make your own decisions when it comes to things like that. We don’t encourage it, but we don’t frown on it either. Most times it’s the young playing with the young. They don’t carry disease and they can’t carry pups without a mating. Sometimes, though, you get males like him. He should have been born a rat instead of a wolver.
“Molly tried to talk to the girl, pointed out there had been others before her. It didn’t matter. Macey was special. She was the one. It didn’t matter that she could never be an Alpha’s Mate. He was never going to mate if he couldn’t mate Macey. That’s what he told her, and that’s what she believed.”
“So you ran. Does that mean she never ran as a wolf, that she never went over the moon?”
“Yep, and now she can’t unless we find a pack leader, an Alpha, who’s willing to take her over that first time and show her how to come home.”
“Poor Macey. I think I know what she’s going through. I remember those days,” Tommie told her with regret. “My father would get so angry. My mother cried. I ran wild. They didn’t understand. They were old and stupid.”
Wolver's Rescue Page 14
