by 33 authors
What made him like her most was the line of pink clothing. She sold pink versions of her clothing, even aprons, all with strong women drawn on the front—warrior princesses, vampires, fairies queens—for Breast Cancer Awareness. Each item of clothing had the pink ribbon displayed discreetly on it. People came from all over to buy her work because she refused to set up a website people could order from. It was merely a single page with her location, some pictures of her work and a weekly schedule. Occasionally, a gallery showing popped into her schedule.
“Why?” he’d asked her once.
“I’m an artist, not a factory,” she replied. For once, she was looking thoughtful, rather than annoyed. “I create each piece myself. I conceive of the theme for the image then sketch it out and decide on the medium for the original work. Yes I have someone else do the prints, calendars and most of the clothing but for the Pink things,” she always capitalized the P when she talked about it, “I silk screen each piece myself. It makes it more personal and, I think, more meaningful for the women who wear it.”
Doug had smiled at her and told her he admired her. She had blushed then scowled at him and told him to piss off. He’d only come back the next day with a cup of tea for her.
Today he stopped at a small patisserie and bought her a chocolate croissant and a cup of wild blueberry tea with a hint of honey. He sauntered towards her with his hands behind his back and watched as she lifted her head, nostrils flaring. He could smell ink and knew that today she was doing the silk screening on site. Those days were scheduled so customers could come and get autographs on the work they chose.
“Hello, my love,” Doug said with a smile.
McKenna lifted an ink stained hand and pointed at him. “I’ve told you not to call me that. What have you got behind your back?” She told herself that it hadn’t been his scent, the one that made her think mine!, but the smell of the tea and food he carried that had her nostrils flaring as he approached.
Doug displayed his prizes with a flourish. “I thought you might be hungry, Mac. I’ll wager you didn’t eat breakfast this morning.” He held the croissant up.
Mac snatched up a rag and gave her hands a swipe before almost lunging at the food. She devoured the croissant in three bites, the first one from Doug’s fingers. She had grabbed his wrist and chomped down before taking it from him. Her eating from his fingers was something that was happening more and more and she wasn’t really aware of it.
Doug smiled as he watched her eat then handed her the tea. “How has your week been, a ghraidh?”
She paused in the act of lifting the fragrant tea to her mouth and pointed at him again. “It doesn’t matter what language you do it in, do not call me ‘my love.’”
“Then come out for dinner with me.” He leaned towards her, pheromones instinctively rising to flood the space between them.
Mac unwittingly took a deep breath and drew in the scents. The pheromones triggered a primitive response in her brain even as her body tightened and suddenly craved his touch. The need was so great she swayed toward him before she caught herself. She closed her eyes and sighed. She capitulated. “Fine. Tonight.”
Doug thought about the dinner Anna was preparing. He thought about inviting Mac to it but he knew she wasn’t ready. “My Alpha’s Mate is making dinner for the pack. I don’t know if I can…” he trailed off. Then he made a decision. “I can skip it this time. I was at the last one. She will understand. Where shall we go?”
Mac was taken aback by the question. “I don’t know. We could have dinner and a walk here in the marketplace.”
“That’s a lovely idea but I want better than that for you.” Doug thought for a moment. “What about Indian?”
She nodded slowly. “I treated myself to Mother India once. It was absolutely wonderful. I can see why it’s in the top three of the best restaurants in Glasgow.”
Doug smiled. He loved Indian food as a date meal. You ate it with your fingers and could be incredibly sensual. He also happened to have an in with the people at that restaurant, they were cousins to his mother. “Mother India it is. I will pick you up at seven.” He darted off before she could answer him.
At 6:55 Mac was standing in the bedroom of her small condo—in recognition of her need for security she had spent a good chunk of her inheritance to ensure she had a home—staring at her sparse wardrobe in a panic. Her one concession to her clothing, her major expense, was lingerie. She didn’t give a damn what went on over it. So now she was staring at a few pairs of jeans and a small pile of dark or neutrally coloured tops.
She had on amethyst coloured panties and matching bra that cradled her breasts lovingly; she looked runway beautiful. A glance at the clock made her frantic and she tore through the deep closet, throwing clothes everywhere. She glimpsed a light fabric near the back and reached for it, snagging the hanger with her fingertips. As she pulled it into the light she held her breath.
“Oh you are pretty. I forgot I had you.” It was a soft, dove grey silk wrap dress that fell to her knees. The sleeves were three-quarter length and the dress tied just above her left hip. It left her cleavage exposed and just hinted at her lingerie without actually revealing anything. Her mentor, the man she thought of as her grandfather and the one responsible for the money in her bank account, bought it for her to wear to her first gallery opening.
Mac pulled the dress on and stood in front of the mirror, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Her hair was pulled back from her face with a pair of ivory combs that had been her mother’s and her face was bare. She was just panicking because she had nothing to accessorize with when the doorman buzzed her. “Oh fuck!” she exclaimed to her reflection.
After she reassured the doorman that the somewhat imposing Doug was indeed a guest she returned to her room. She stood in the doorway, aghast at the mess. She scrambled to pick everything up and throw it in the closet. Then she slammed the closet door and hastily tidied the room, smoothing down bedding, arranging things on the top of her dresser. She even peeked into the ensuite to make sure it was clean.
Mac wanted Doug to be comfortable. She wanted him to know she was neat and clean, at least in her living spaces. Her studio, the condo’s second bedroom, was a completely different matter. It was also off limits. She didn’t pause to consider why she was seeking to make sure Doug thought well of her home, why she wanted her bedroom to be inviting. As Doug knocked at her door she took a quick glance at her living room, tugged at the dress and took a deep breath.
Doug’s breath was stolen from him as the door swung wide and Mac was revealed to him. He had been blind if he had thought she was beautiful covered in ink and paint stained jeans and t-shirts. The dress made her eyes bluer and somehow softened the paleness of her skin, turning it creamy. The way it was wrapped around her only served to emphasis her narrow waist. The full, soft skirt clung to her hips and made her legs look even longer.
He wiped the drool from his brain and lifted his eyes to hers after a long slow look that swept her from head to toe and back again. “You look stunning,” he said.
Mac blushed, unused to compliments that were simply that—a genuine appreciation of her without anything behind it. “I… I don’t have any makeup on or jewelry…” she trailed off, faintly embarrassed.
“You don’t need any, Mac. You are a beautiful woman whether you are ink stained and dressed in paint splattered clothing or dressed as you are now.” His voice dropped, becoming low and husky. “I bet you are incredibly gorgeous when you are nude too.”
Her blush deepened and she turned away to grab the little clutch bag she had spent an hour searching for. “Shall we… um…” Oh Gods, she thought to herself, please don’t say ‘go to bed’. “Shall we go to dinner?”
Doug stepped back into the hallway, amused that they’d been standing there in the open door the entire time. He was pleased that her face was still pink with pleasure and embarrassment as he held his arm out to her. His pleasure spiked when she slid her hand under his ar
m and caressed his forearm as she settled her hand mid-way between wrist and elbow.
When they arrived at Mother India, Doug took them to a side door and knocked three times. It was opened by a small girl who immediately offered a wide, gap-toothed smile. “Uncle! You are here! And you brought the pretty lady.” The little girl looked up at Mac and tore her tiny apron off to reveal a pink t-shirt with one of Mac’s dragons and her autograph on it. “You made this for me!”
Mac smiled and carefully crouched down to the girl’s eye level to examine the shirt. “It’s very pretty and it suits you very well.” She thought back to the crowds today and remembered a particular family who were all staring at her even as they pretended to pick through the clothing. “You and your mama came to see me today. You were so polite and such a good girl. It was a pleasure to have you as a customer.”
Doug’s jaw dropped and he hurried to pick it up. The urge to mark her nearly overwhelmed him then and there as he saw a side of her he didn’t know existed—the woman was a natural with children. He wanted her to bear his young but he had a feeling that was going to be a hard sell.
“Sitara! Do not bother Doug and his lady friend!” The man who tried to sound gruff was grinning from ear to ear. “Bhaiya! I’m so pleased you are here and that you finally have brought the woman you care about with you! The others were merely time fillers, eh?” He winked at the cousin he called brother.
Mac allowed Sitara to hug her and straightened up again, looking from Sitara’s father to Doug. She giggled as Doug turned bright red. “Time fillers? I’m sure they’d be happy to hear that.” Her energy shifted, becoming brighter and warmer. She was happy to hear that she meant something. Mac wallowed in the feeling for a minute then squashed it away as Sitara slipped her small hand into Mac’s work roughened one.
Sitara tugged on Mac’s hand until she bent down, even then Sitara waited until Doug and her father had moved away. Only then did the small girl speak, with the voice of a much older woman. “Do not worry, Didi, your life with the Wolf will be exceptional and you will finally have the family and security you seek.” Then she blinked, smiled and pulled on Mac’s hand to lead her forward. Sitara called Mac sister once more, “Come Didi, you must eat and have fun.”
Mac stared at her in surprise, face white. The girl was a Seer and had already come into her abilities. “Yes, Sitara. I’m sure the food will be lovely.”
The girl stage whispered, “I will make sure you have lots of milk.” She grinned then skipped off as she left Mac with Doug and her father.
Mac was still a little pale as Doug and Vijay looked at her. The smiles died on their faces and both moved to her sides. Doug’s voice was anxious as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Mac! Are you okay?”
“Did Sitara say something wrong? Did she do something? I can see to her punishment immediately.” Vijay frowned, anxiously reassuring her.
“No, no! She didn’t do anything wrong. She just caught me by surprise.” Mac smiled. It wavered a bit but it was there. “She has some hidden talents, doesn’t she?”
Vijay groaned. “Oh no, I am so sorry. We cannot get her to control them just yet. Perhaps when she hits puberty.” He rubbed his face.
Mac pulled away from Doug and smiled at Vijay. “It’s okay; she just surprised me that’s all.” She looked at the booth they’d been given. Low walls gave the seating area some privacy. Large colourful cushions were scattered around a short, round table on a small Persian rug. “This is beautiful!”
“Thank you, lovely lady!” Vijay bowed. “I hope you enjoy your dinner. To start we have chicken samosas with spinach raita. Your main meal is lamb with mixed vegetables and curry pastry alongside chicken biryani with naan. For dessert you will have a gulab jamin. You will, of course, enjoy it all.” Vijay grinned at them both and darted off to the kitchens.
Doug chuckled and offered his hand to Mac to help her lower herself to the floor. “They are a wonderful family and fantastic cooks.”
Mac smiled at him. “I am looking forward to it.”
They ate and talked and ate some more. Doug scooped the lamb onto a piece of the pastry and offered it to Mac. He made sure that the mouthful was just big enough and just sloppy enough that she couldn’t take it from him with her fingers. He waited with a small smile on his lips and a lot of affection and desire in his eyes.
Mac was smart enough to know exactly what he was doing and she leaned forward. She looked into his eyes for a second then flicked her eyes to his fingers before she lost her nerve. Mac focused on his hand and leaned forward. She took his fingers into her mouth and sucked the food off. She gripped his wrist to hold his hand in place while she chewed. Once she swallowed she leaned forward again and sucked his fingers clean, tongue swiping and stroking. She glanced up and caught his eyes. They were dark and hot with need and something tightened deep in her core.
Doug’s cock was tight in his slacks. Feeding her had suddenly gone from a teasing thing to something erotic that set him on fire. He suddenly thanked the Gods that he didn’t combust like Anna and chuckled.
After pulling back with a gentle scrape of her teeth, Mac tilted her head curiously. “What’s so funny?” She had a quick thought to be insulted but given that he was still staring at her with such intensity she figured it didn’t have anything to do with her.
“My Alpha. When she gets aroused she bursts into flames. I was just thinking that it was a good thing I don’t.”
Mac sat back in surprise. “She bursts into flames? Isn’t that dangerous?”
“They don’t hurt her. Don’t seem to hurt anyone else. Do damage a lot of furniture and stuff though.” He leaned forward and scooped up a bit of the biryani. “So tell me how you came to be in our great Glesga. And how did you get Liam to agree without me ever having seen you before last April?” As Mac’s eyes filled with sadness, Doug immediately regretted the question and tried to retract it.
“No, it’s okay.” She smiled tremulously at him. “My mother was a runaway from her pack. Her Alpha raped her when she was tending to a wound in his shoulder. The funny thing is… he only did it because he was stabbed by an eleven year girl he tried to molest. She died when I was fourteen and my first heat came on.” The rest of the dinner was spent exchanging life stories.
Finally, they were back at Mac’s door and she was nervous as she unlocked her door. She wanted him to come inside so, despite her fear, she opened the door and took a step inside. Mac was half turned so her body was both in and out of the apartment and facing him. He stepped forward and her heart skipped a beat as he took one of her hands in his.
Doug could smell her arousal and her fear and he smiled inwardly. He wasn’t going to go in yet. Instead, he took her hand in his, swept a low bow and kissed the inside of her wrist. “Sleep well, my love.”
Mac tried to hide her disappointment and relief as she slipped the rest of the way into her apartment. “Don’t call me that,” she muttered, only half serious. She closed the door and locked it before she leaned her forehead against it, smiling and listening as he moved away.
Doug whistled a cheerful tune as he pressed the button for the elevator. He wanted her to wait, to anticipate their encounter, no matter if his balls turned Smurfy. The elevator doors opened and revealed a small, older lady inside. She gave him the once over with a wary eye. Those eyes widened as she reached his hips. “Oh!” The word burst out of her before she could stop it.
With an engaging grin, Doug gave her a small bow before he stepped inside. “My apologies, Madam. I just dropped my girlfriend off at her door and she appeals to me on so many levels.”
The woman thought about the responses she could give but the truth was that she’d had a healthy appetite throughout her entire life, still masturbated now and then, though it was slow going when she tried. So she did the only thing she could do—she grinned back at him. “She is a very lucky lady.”
Doug laughed and discreetly adjusted himself as he wondered just what this peculiar
little woman had done in her lifetime.
The following weekend, Mac waited for Doug to show up. It was still early and everyone was opening their booths but she knew he’d bring breakfast. She was unpacking her box of Breast Cancer Awareness items, the stuff she thought of as her Pink! Merchandise, when another Wolf came over.
Seamus was a farmer from the south near Lanark who brought his harvest up every week. He was 5’8”, making him two inches shorter than she was, and barrel-chested. His appearance made her think of a fat, mean Weasley. He was all red hair and freckles, little beady eyes that were always narrowed in calculation and a hard, narrow-lipped mouth.
Mac couldn’t stand him. She tried to be neutral but, among other things, she didn’t understand why he couldn’t smell the stench that surrounded him. She saw him coming out of the corner of her eye and shifted so that she was giving him her shoulder, a pointed get-the-fuck-away-from-me stance. She wasn’t in the least bit surprised when he ignored it.
Seamus came up to her booth with the attitude she called “desperately seeking a punch in the face” but he undoubtedly considered sexy. “Hello, beautiful lady. How are you doing?”
“Fantastic, Seamus, although the day seems to be getting worse by the second. I wonder why that is.” She looked pointedly at him.
“Ah, lassie, ‘tis because ye’ve no consented to dinner with me yet.” The southern Wolf hitched up his pants, framing his sex with his hands as he did so, and winked at her.
“I’m afraid the guy I’m seeing wouldn’t like that.” Mac smiled pleasantly and enjoyed the shock that hit the man on the other side of the booth.
Seamus stilled and his squinty eyes narrowed further, until she was surprised he could still see. “Yer seeing someone?”
“Aye.” Mac went back to hanging up her newest item, one she had splurged on to create and have turned into reality. It was a pinup style summer dress. Slim pink ribbons tied on top of the shoulders and knee length skirt flared out from a corset style bodice. Tightly woven pink cotton trimmed the top of the bodice and in an offset print all over the pale pink cotton of the dress was one of her favourite fairies in a gothic black and white comic strip. The dress was gorgeous, one of a kind and every penny of the sale was going to breast cancer research. She hung the dress and deliberately blocked herself from Seamus’s view in the process.
