Blame It On the Moonlight

by Tracie Sommers

She’d had a strange dream sometime during the night about running through the forest—only she’d been on all fours instead of upright. Maybe she’d been sleepwalking.

  For the first time, Jasmine realized she was totally naked. Her hands and feet were filthy, as if she had been digging around in the dirt.

  She crawled to her feet, aching in the way only great sex could make you ache, and ran to the end of the dock. After a brief pause to brace herself, she dived in. The water smothered her in its icy embrace, driving the air from her lungs with the force of a stomach punch.

  She loved an early-morning swim in the cold lake. It was refreshing, got the blood pumping. A ritual her beloved grandfather had introduced to her to—one they had shared every time she’d visited. When he was still alive.

  After a few minutes, Jasmine climbed the ancient wooden ladder and wrapped herself in one of the towels from the boat. Up the hill in the morning mist, the cabin sat silent. Her special haven had been invaded by a bastard and his pack of morons.

  Well, it was time to take out the trash and clean house.

  She returned midmorning from a walk to find the cabin just as she’d told Brent it was to be left. All the SUVs and cars were gone, including Brent’s. Thank goodness, she was finally alone. Finally free.

  However, their empty beer and liquor bottles littered the ground around the cabin. And inside was worse. The stench of their bodily odors seemed to cling to the walls and furniture. The smell so strong it almost made her throw up.

  It took several hours to clean up. Jasmine tied the last bin bag of trash and dumped it with the rest. Finished—finally. She grabbed a beer from the fridge and moved out onto the porch and sank into her grandfather’s old rocker with a sigh.

  The familiar hum of an engine warned her she had company coming. The black Jeep pulled in front of the porch and Brent climbed out.

  “What do you want?” she demanded.

  “Please, kitten,” he said, using his I’m-too-good-looking-to-stay-mad-at voice. “I was drunk—I didn’t know what I was doing.”

  He reeked of Brittney.

  “Sure you didn’t. And that’s why you fucked her again just before you came out here.” She stood up and crossed to the railing. “I can smell her all over you from here.”

  “You’re imagining things.” His voice sounded so rational, so comforting. “Come on, it’s time we got home. Your mother is expecting us for dinner. You have a wedding to plan.”

  It suddenly all seemed so clear. Her life controlled first by her mother, and then by Brent. Together they made all the decisions for her and she’d let them. She’d been so blinded by his chiseled jaw and blond all-American quarterback good looks that she failed to see how really pathetic he was.

  “If you think I’m going to marry you now, you’re crazy.”

  At the look of utter shock on his face, Jasmine couldn’t stop the laughter spilling out. If there was one thing Brent hated more than anything else—it was being laughed at. Stormy brows creased his fake-tanned forehead.

  “Look, Jasmine,” he said, inching closer, his voice taking on a hard edge. “You know how disappointed your mother will be—”

  “No.” She raised her hand, determined not to be talked around this time. “Just get back in your car and leave.”

  “I’m not leaving here without you.” He kept coming.

  She reached inside the door and grabbed the shotgun her grandfather used to scare the foxes away from the chickens.

  He stopped and looked up at her. His expression was well worth it even if she had no real intentions of shooting him.

  He held his hands up in front of himself and smiled his most charming smile at her.

  She relaxed a little and let the barrel drop slightly. “We are over, Brent. Go back to your skanky fucking bitch.”

  He charged up the stairs and grabbed the barrel of the shotgun before she had a chance to react. A tight cruel smile twisted his handsome features and he snatched the weapon out of her hand and grabbed her arm at the same time.

  Out of nowhere a black blur rushed in and jaws clamped on to Brent’s lower right leg. The man brought the butt of the gun down on the head of the large black wolf—forcing the animal to let go.

  The wolf turned, hackles raised, teeth bared as he crouched before Jasmine, protecting her. Blood soaked the torn edges of Brent’s pants. The fear in the man’s eyes gave Jasmine some small measure of satisfaction.

  Then her ex brought up the muzzle of the shotgun and aimed at the animal.

  She didn’t hesitate. She reached for the weapon, just as the wolf lunged. Large teeth sliced through her forearm with barely any pain at all. The animal immediately let go and she was able to wrench the weapon from the hands of her shocked ex-boyfriend.

  She pointed it in the Brent’s direction again. “Get in your car now and piss off, or, so help me, I’ll shoot you where you stand.”

  There must have been something in her voice because he didn’t even try to argue this time. He ran for his car, yanked the door open, climbed in and fumbled the keys into the ignition. The Jeep tore down the drive so fast the tires kicked up gravel and a massive cloud of dust.

  “I hope he doesn’t bleed to death before he reaches town.” A deep male voice rumbled from behind.

  Somehow, she wasn’t surprised to find Lucas there and totally naked.

  “We’d better get you cleaned up,” she said, looking at the gash above his eye.

  “No,” he said, taking the weapon and leaning it against the rocking chair. “We’d better get that arm seen to first.”

  Crimson droplets of blood fell with a pitter-splat on the wooden porch, and everything faded into darkness and she felt herself falling.

  Jasmine awoke in the moonlit bedroom to the smell of bacon frying. Saliva flooded her mouth and her stomach grumbled like she hadn’t been fed in days. The cracking of eggs and the sizzle of meat thrown into a skillet awoke her complaining stomach again.

  Then the memory of her confrontation with Brent and the wolf came back in a rush. It was really true—Lucas and the wolf were one and the same.

  She lifted her arm and looked at the fresh bandage, but it didn’t hurt as much as she thought it should. Movement in the kitchen was punctuated with the clinking of china and banging of pots. She climbed from the bed, wearing only a shirt and panties, and padded toward the wafting delicious smell of hot meat frying. A spasm of hunger almost ripped a hole in her stomach. She was hungrier than she’d ever been in her life—like she hadn’t eaten in weeks.

  Lucas moved around the kitchen with easy assuredness, looking better in an old pair of jeans than any one man had a right to. He turned around and his face lit up. And she knew she’d put the smile there. Goose bumps rippled over her upper arms and her nipples contracted to hard little buds.

  “Go back to bed. This is almost ready,” he said.

  “I’m fine.” She jumped up to sit on the edge of the table, her legs swinging. “How long was I out for?”

  He turned to her, gray eyes drinking her in. “Only a couple of hours—the shock, I expect. Now get back to bed.”

  “Uh-uh.” She shook her head.

  Disappointment flashed across his face but quickly fled as his gaze dropped to her naked thighs. She parted her legs a little. Hunger darkened his eyes and she leaned back, parting them farther. Her grumbling stomach somewhat dampened the seductive image she was hoping for.

  Lucas laughed. “First we need to feed you.” He heaped steak, bacon, sausage and eggs onto a plate and crossed to the table. “Now hop down and eat.”

  She’d never felt so sexually charged, so sexually alive. Mischief and desire played with her unusual mood. “No.”

  He tilted his head, a strange smile tracing his lips, and cut into the piece of steak. Pink juices spilled out onto the white plate and flowed down his fingers as he picked up the morsel. She held his hand still, licking away the juice before snagging the meat between her teeth, not once taking her eyes away f
rom his.

  Juice dribbled down her chin and neck. Lucas leaned in. Her breath caught in her chest as he traced the path with his tongue. When he reached her lips, his kiss deepened, taking the remaining air from her lungs. He seemed to steal her air a lot.

  Then he picked up a fork and stabbed an egg. Yellow yolk flowed and mingled with the pinkish-brown meat juice. He raised the fork to her mouth, deliberately missing the corner a little so he would have to clean it up again.

  Not to be outdone, Jasmine grabbed a piece of bacon and rubbed it into his chest. His nipples crinkled into little tight points under her tongue, the grease mingled with his unique maleness. She undid the button and slid the zipper down on his jeans. He wore nothing underneath and his cock, hot and ready, peaked out from behind blue denim.

  Lucas slid one arm around her waist and drew her closer to the edge of the table before pulling the shirt over her head. His hot breath burned her naked skin and melted her soul. Longing flooded her mind and body, pretty much leaving her useless to resist.

  He gently pushed her back to lie on the tabletop, running his palms over her stomach and brushing her breasts. He bent forward, his tongue dipping into her navel, sending licks of desire up her spine. A moan built in her throat. God, he was good at that.

  She sat up, unable to take anymore—she needed him inside her and now.

  “Fuck me,” she demanded, and wrapped her legs around his hips.

  He pulled away and stood back, opening his jeans a little more and wrapping a massive hand around his thick shaft. “Beg me.”

  “Please,” she said, licking her lips and reaching for his cock. “Fuck me now.”

  He groaned, pushing his pelvis forward, his silky smoothness brushing her fingertips. She wanted more. She wanted it all.

  His fingers tangled in her hair as he rocked his hips forward, filling her hand, pumping against her and growing harder with each thrust.

  Lucas pushed her back onto the tabletop by her shoulders. He grasped her panties and slid them quickly over her hips and pushed down his jeans the rest of the way before kicking them aside. The head of his cock nudged the springy, wet curls surrounding her sex. She arched her back and hissed at the friction.

  Then he filled her. She cried out, arching her back to take him deeper. His hands gripped her hips and he pulled out and thrust in again.

  Jasmine came up onto her elbows and watched him moving in and out of her. Each time he filled her it felt like the very first time and it felt so right, like they were made to fit one another. She wanted to get closer to him and sat up, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

  The change in position worked in more ways than one. The tip of his cock hit the front wall of her sex and the base rubbed along her clit with maximum sensation.

  His parted lips descended to hers and he gripped her ass, pulling her tighter into his rhythm. Jasmine snagged his bottom lip between her teeth, gently sucking in time with his thrusts. Her nipples brushed his chest, adding to the stimulation.

  The first orgasm took her by surprise, dropping her back onto to her elbows to brace herself for the next, which came with thundering force a couple of thrusts later. He gripped her hips tighter, his fingers biting into her flesh as he drove harder and harder until with one gasping shudder he collapsed forward onto her stomach.

  They remained that way, panting and sweating for a few minutes until Lucas gathered her up, his cock still buried deep inside her, and carried her into the bedroom. Her hunger seemed gone, it wasn’t food she’d been after. Together they collapsed, well sated, to bask in the glow as they drifted off to sleep.

  Jasmine slowly blinked her eyes open and lay wrapped in Lucas’s warmth, his breathing regular with sleep.

  She sighed, feeling content and fulfilled and…different. Carefully she slipped from his arms and grabbed her robe, then crept from the room. The silvery night was hardly quiet; crickets serenaded each other, owls hooted from the treetops and frogs sang amphibian operas down by the lake. Yet, it’d never seemed more peaceful.

  She curled up her legs in the rocking chair and wrapped her robe tighter around herself. The mist swept in off the water, adding eeriness to the predawn light. It rolled across the ground, flirting with the underbrush, caressing the base of the trees with a lover’s touch.

  Something moved. A pair of pale wolf eyes stared at her from within the haze. The form moved again, bending and shifting in the cloaking whiteness until a naked woman with long grayish hair stepped into full sight. She walked with the grace of someone comfortable in her own skin, no matter what shape it may be.

  “Hello, Granddaughter.” The woman appeared a little older than Jasmine and much younger than her mother. How could she be her grandmother? Yet Jasmine knew it was true, she’d seen her before.

  A knot formed in her throat. “How?”

  “I know you remember me.” She held out her hand.

  An image of her grandfather taking Jasmine into the woods to meet this woman flooded her memory. Jasmine had been around two or three at the time and she’d been given sugar cookies.

  “You’re supposed to be dead,” Jasmine finally managed to croak.

  “It was easier that way. Your father, my son, needed a different upbringing than the one I could give him.”

  “But why?”

  “He was not touched by the wolf like we are. I tried to live in the city when he started school, but I couldn’t. And he would never have been comfortable among our kind.”

  Jasmine knew she was right, her father hated the cabin, the lake and the woods. Hated being away from civilization.

  “So what am I supposed to call you?” Jasmine uncurled from her seat. “Grandma?”

  The woman smiled gently and tilted her head. “My name is Melinda. Call me that if it makes you more comfortable.”

  “Wait a minute—you said ‘touched by the wolf like we are.’”

  “Yes, we. You and I.” Her grandmother moved forward and cupped Jasmine’s chin in a gentle caressing touch. “I loved your grandfather more than any other man or wolf. And even though he was human—he was my life mate. But your father had none of our people in him. When your father went off to college, Jed came back to me and our house together.” Melinda looked toward the door and a look of longing and loss passed across her beautiful features. “I haven’t set foot inside since the day he died. I have a cabin on the other side of the lake where I grew up. Most of the local community are wolf people. Jed was the only outsider we let stay year-round.”

  It was strange hearing her grandfather’s name spoken.

  “When each of you children were old enough, your grandfather would bring you to me. Neither your brother or sister had the wolf’s touch, but you—I could feel it in you straightaway.”

  “Is that why he had only me stay during the summer breaks?” Jasmine asked.

  Melinda’s eyes grew far away. “Partly. Your brother and sister were never really comfortable here and refused to come. But you, you took to the forest with such natural ease. I used to watch you and your grandfather together, wanting to come out of hiding and play with you myself—but it would have raised too many questions.”

  “But I’m not like you.” Jasmine fiddled with the corner of her robe.

  Things were starting to slip into place, like the way her mother tried to control her more than the others. Maybe she’d sensed the wildness in Jasmine and it confused and scared her.

  “Yes you are—the wolf has already risen in you once.” Her grandmother squatted down in front of her and rested her arm on Jasmine’s knees. “The night before you ran with Lucas in the forest.”

  In a dream she’d chased a rabbit through the undergrowth with no real intentions of catching it, the game was the only thing that mattered. But maybe it wasn’t a dream….

  “I’ve come to warn you, my child.” Melinda nodded to the cabin door. “You’ve made love to a wolf two nights within a single phase of the full moon. One more time and y
ou will be mated for life. No other man will ever satisfy you, no other woman him. Tonight is the last night of the full moon and you should think carefully before you take that step.” She turned toward the forest, her shoulders slumping. “Life without your mate can be very lonely.”

  With a heavy sigh, Melinda straightened. “I will always be here. You’ll know how to call for me if you need to.”

  Then Melinda turned and walked back into the thickening mist, changing form as she went so that by the time she reached the forest edge a large gray wolf loped off through the trees.

  Jasmine sat a little longer until the sun rose and burned off the last of the haze. Brent was gone and Lucas was here to protect her. But was she ready to trade a life with one man to an unknown life with someone she hardly knew?

  She didn’t know how long she sat there, but when Lucas placed a tender touch on her head she nearly jumped out of her skin.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, concern edging his voice.

  “Fine,” she mumbled, unable to look at him lest he see the lie in her eyes.

  “I have something to do,” he said. “I’ll be back in a little while.”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” he said, frowning.

  She gave him a smile she hoped looked natural and nodded.

  He didn’t seem too convinced but kissed her quickly, raising her temperature in that one brief connection. There was no way she would be able to resist him if she stayed here.

  After he disappeared into the trees, she raced inside to quickly dress and gather up her things. As she left the cabin, she pulled the door shut behind her and piled her bags into her grandfather’s old runabout car.

  She got halfway down the drive and stopped—looking back at the cabin in the rearview mirror. A large black wolf loped into the clearing and stared after her with sad gray eyes. Jasmine had a moment of regret and was nearly tempted to turn back. Instead she put the car into gear and accelerated away.

  Lucas sat on his haunches and watched the car go. His heart squeezed in his chest and he hung his head. He’d known the moment he looked into her eyes this morning she would leave. But no matter how much he wanted to keep her here, he knew he had to let her go. She had to return to him and give herself willingly; there was no other way.