Wolf in Her Bed

by N. J. Walters

  “No, but I’m wondering if you might need some medication or at least some therapy.” The mood lightened and Armand sat, picked up his fork and speared a slice of bacon. It was cold but still tasty.

  Cole left his post by the door and joined them without a word, but Armand knew if he made another break for the door he’d find the bigger wolf there in a heartbeat. Cole might be big, but he was fast too. A deadly combination.

  Louis glanced at Gwen, and Armand knew the other wolf was still struggling with his feelings for her. Both Jacque and Louis had been attracted to the same woman. It happened rarely with werewolves, but when it did, it was usually to brothers. Gwen had only had eyes for Jacque since the beginning. Louis had been forced to accept that.

  What was worse? Armand wondered. Seeing the woman you wanted every day and having to see her with someone else, or not seeing her at all. Neither was pleasant.

  They were so different from one another—Gwen with her blonde hair and blue eyes and Jacque with his brown, shaggy hair, golden eyes and dominant personality. Yet they worked together. Of course, it helped that Gwen was no pushover. She was tough, both mentally and physically. She’d have to be in order to have survived what she had. Yet there was a softness to Gwen that he knew appealed to his alpha.

  Armand couldn’t blame Jacque for stealing Gwen away and doing whatever he had to in order to protect her. But that was before any of them truly understood the consequences such actions could bring. They all knew that their former pack was watching them. Pierre LaForge ran the Louisiana pack like a tyrant and no one, especially his two sons, were going to be able to leave and not pay the consequences. Like the sadistic son of a bitch that he was, Pierre had hit his son where it would hurt the most—Gwen.

  They thought Gwen was dead, at least for now. But that wouldn’t last. Armand now understood he wouldn’t be truly free from his old life until his uncle and his father were put down once and for all.

  It wouldn’t be long now until their former alpha sent some men back to North Carolina to spy on them, if there wasn’t already someone out there. Their former pack had taken some losses during their last battle, but that wouldn’t stop Pierre LaForge. The last thing Armand wanted was Anny anywhere near them.

  I’m doing the right thing. Seemed like he repeated that mantra a thousand times a day, but it never made it any easier. It still hurt like hell to think of her.

  Armand cleaned his plate, knowing if he didn’t the others would notice and worry. Werewolves had a high metabolism and had to consume a vast quantity of food daily. He’d been off his food lately and had lost some weight he couldn’t afford to lose, not if he had to fight.

  He reached for the bowl of hash browns and piled more onto his plate. He had to be in peak form when the storm came. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when. It was coming and soon.

  While the others chatted about the daily chores to be done and the patrol schedule, Armand ate and thought of Anny.

  Was she thinking about him?

  Anny smoothed her hands over the tweed pencil skirt she wore and glanced at her reflection in the small mirror that hung over the sink in the library bathroom, ignoring the dark circles under her eyes. She was glad it was cool enough for her to wear turtlenecks or silk scarves with her blouses. Armand had left her with two marks on her neck and they were taking forever to fade. One was completely gone now and the other was just a tiny smudge.

  She’d had a devil of a time hiding them, but she’d had no choice. The last thing she wanted was the teachers or principle asking her about them. She shuddered at the thought of the gossip that would engender.

  Another day or so and the tiny smudge would be gone and with it her last tangible reminder of him.

  That wasn’t quite true. She hadn’t changed the pillowcase on the pillow he’d slept on and could still catch the faint woodsy smell that reminded her of him. She slept with it nightly, like some lovesick teenager. She really needed to wash it and let him go once and for all.

  Armand.

  She thought about him a lot more than was smart or healthy. He popped into her head at odd times during the day. She’d find herself wanting to share some tidbit of her day with him, which really didn’t make sense. They hadn’t had that kind of relationship.

  And the nights were even worse. Her skin seemed overly sensitive when she climbed into bed each night, her nightgown and the covers a sensual torture. She knew it was because of the low level of arousal that filled her whenever she thought of that night. She wasn’t sleeping well and it was beginning to take a toll on her.

  But there was no time for her to worry about that now. She had work to do. Thankfully, she loved the library and her students. So young and with such promise, their entire lives ahead of them.

  She straightened her sweater and left the bathroom behind. She could hear the footsteps in the hallway and knew her first class was waiting for her.

  Anny opened the library door and a class of seniors trooped into the room. She barely stepped aside in time to avoid the stampede to the library’s three computers. “Don’t run,” she admonished, knowing it wouldn’t do a bit of good. The school was small, the district poor. They needed a lot more computers than they had. Thankfully, the ones they did have were new and were much faster than the old ones they’d replaced.

  “Remember, you all get fifteen minutes each on the computers so make the most of it. I’m timing.”

  Several students groaned, but they knew she meant business and diligently went to work. She hated to have to limit them, but everyone needed to have their turn and they only had an hour.

  Anny knew that many people assumed everyone had a computer in this day and age, but that simply wasn’t the case. Many households were struggling to provide food and shelter for their kids, and there wasn’t enough money left for a luxury like a computer, especially when the school had them.

  She knew several of the students who lived in town would return after school to use them to finish their work. There were just as many who couldn’t. They had buses to catch to more rural areas or were expected home to do their share of the chores.

  “Miss Conrad?”

  Anny smiled at the soft-spoken girl shifting nervously beside her. Brenda James was a tall girl with glasses and thin as a reed. She was also extremely smart and had a chance at a scholarship to go to college if she kept her grades up and was encouraged to continue her education. That didn’t always happen, especially with girls, who were expected to get married and have babies. Brenda’s father didn’t seem to keen on the idea of his daughter leaving home. But her mother wanted her daughter to have the opportunities she’d never had. Anny suspected Mrs. James would win that battle.

  “What can I do for you, Brenda?”

  “I was wondering if you could look over this college application for me.” She held up several pages. “I used my uncle’s computer to print it off and filled it out. I want to make sure everything is okay before I submit it for real.”

  Anny put her hand on Brenda’s shoulder and guided her toward an empty table. “I’d be happy to.” She wondered what Armand was doing and quickly put the thought out of her head. Her students deserved all her attention.

  When she walked into Kathy’s Kitchen later that afternoon, Anny was exhausted. It had been a demanding day. She hadn’t been sleeping well and it was finally catching up with her. She was glad it was Friday and she was off for the next two days. She planned on sleeping quite a bit this weekend.

  The place was crowded for late afternoon, but there was an open booth on the far end of the room. Anny made her way there, saying hello to everyone she knew, which was just about everyone. Working at the school meant she came in contact with almost all the parents at some point.

  She dumped her bag onto the bench seat and sat, releasing a long sigh. It was good to be off her feet.

  Sue zipped over, coffeepot in hand. “You look like crap.”

  Anny smiled at her friend’s candid assessment and held ou
t the clean mug that sat on the table. “You’re so kind. Please tell me more, but fill my cup before you do.”

  Sue laughed but filled the mug. Anny took a sip before she’d even added any sugar, needing the caffeine hit. She was ready to put her head down on the table and fall asleep. But if there was one thing she’d learned the past few weeks, it was that she wouldn’t sleep long. She’d wake, usually from an erotic dream, reaching for a man who wasn’t there.

  It was ridiculous and had to stop.

  “You want something to go with that coffee. We’ve got apple and lemon meringue pie.”

  “I’ll have a slice of the lemon meringue.” For the first time in days, she actually felt hungry. Seems lemon pie was exactly what she needed.

  Sue narrowed her gaze and studied her until Anny felt like squirming. “You sure you’re okay. I’ve barely seen you since your birthday.”

  She didn’t want to worry her friend. And there was really no need. Anny was just being stupid over a man she barely knew. And if there was one thing she hated, it was being stupid.

  Then why did her heart ache whenever she thought about him?

  She shoved that stray thought aside and forced herself to smile at Sue. “You’ve been busy with work and your adorable son, and I’ve been swamped at school.” Not quite true, but true enough. The fact was, Anny hadn’t felt like socializing much these past few weeks. Not that she was a social butterfly or anything, but she usually saw Sue every few days.

  “He is adorable, isn’t he?” Nothing like mentioning three-year-old Billy Walsh to distract his mother. “Too bad his father isn’t as adorable.”

  “Problems?” Anny knew Sue had trouble getting child support out of Billy senior from time to time.

  “Nothing I can’t handle,” her friend assured her. “I’ll get your pie.” Sue left and stopped at several tables, chatting easily and refilling empty coffee cups.

  Anny added two packs of sugar to her coffee and stirred before taking another sip. The combination of caffeine and sugar was so good. She’d been trying to cut back on her coffee consumption, but these past two weeks had made that impossible. If anything, she’d been consuming more in her quest to stay alert at work.

  Sue returned with the pie and set it on the table in front of her with a flourish. “You know what we should do? We should get together tomorrow for lunch.”

  That was exactly what Anny needed to get her out of her funk. “I’d love it.” Then she had a thought. “Listen, why don’t you and Billy come out to my place tomorrow morning? We can hang out and I’ll make lunch. You know he loves to play with Seymour and Tigger. And if it’s not too cold, we can take him down by the stream.” One of the perks of living on the edge of town was she was a short distance away from the woods and a small stream. She enjoyed the tranquil setting and walked there often.

  Sue smiled. “Sounds perfect. I’ll be there sometime after ten.”

  “Works for me. Come whenever you want. You know you’re always welcome.”

  Another patron called Sue’s name, and she hurried off. Anny forked up a piece of the pie and let the tart flavor explode on her tongue. This was exactly what she needed. Comfort food, some time with her good friend and a quiet weekend at home.

  Chapter Six

  Anny sighed and rolled over in bed until she was resting on her side. She snuggled deeper into her pillow and slipped back into sleep. Hands, hard yet gentle, reached for her. She didn’t need to turn around to know who they belonged to. “Armand.” She whispered his name and then groaned when he slid his hands up to cup her breasts.

  “I love your breasts. So firm and full.” His voice, deep and husky, warmed her to the depths of her soul.

  He shifted closer and she felt the unmistakable press of his cock against her back. She reached behind her and circled his shaft. He gave a low growl and removed her hand, bringing it to his mouth and placing a kiss in the center of her palm. “None of that or we’ll be finished before we even start.”

  She laughed, feeling carefree and ridiculously happy. “But I like touching you.” Understatement of the century. Armand’s body was a well-honed machine, all muscle and totally hot.

  “Not as much as I like touching you.” He thumbed her nipples and heat shot down from the hard peaks and straight to the center of her core. She ached for more, for Armand, and she wiggled her hips to remind him to hurry.

  He slid one hand down her torso and over her stomach. He paused, building the anticipation before he slid his fingers through her pubic hair and stroked her. “You’re already wet.” There was a wealth of satisfaction in his words, but she found she wasn’t bothered by it. There was no denying the truth. The man cranked her buttons in every way possible.

  Armand stroked her slick folds and then slipped two thick fingers into her pussy. She moaned and arched into his touch. “Yes.” It was barely a breath, but he heard it and laughed.

  “So responsive, ma petite.”

  Only for him. Armand brought her alive in ways that should frighten her. Instead, he made her feel as though she’d been only half-alive, partially living for a very long time.

  He rubbed his thumb over her clit. Her breath caught and then she released it in a whoosh. Her entire body was on fire with need. And Armand was the only one who could satisfy her.

  “Armand.” She reached behind her again and stroked her hand over his hip and thigh. “I need you.”

  “Oui.” His accent was thick and flowed through her like liquid arousal. “Yes,” he repeated, this time in English.

  He lifted her top leg and pulled it slightly back, resting it on his thigh. She felt the head of his cock probing her pussy and then he was forging inward, stretching her wide. At this angle, his penetration felt even more intense.

  Anny gasped and he froze.

  “No, don’t stop.” She didn’t want him to ever stop.

  He plunged deep, wringing a cry of pleasure from her. His shaft was filling her, stretching her. And she’d never felt anything better. The heavy throb of his cock sent her pussy into a spasm of ecstasy, but she didn’t come. Not yet.

  She didn’t want it to end too soon.

  His teeth grazed her shoulder and she angled her head, exposing more of her neck.

  “So sweet,” he muttered. “You’re so damn sweet.” He started to move, just a slight rocking of his hips, but it was enough to send shockwaves of pleasure throughout her entire body.

  She bit her lip to keep from yelling. She was so close. So very close.

  “Armand.” She cried his name and bolted upright in bed. Seymour and Tigger both meowed their displeasure at being so rudely awakened, jumped off the bed and padded out of the room.

  Sweat had her hair plastered to her skull and her nightgown clung to her body. “A dream. Just another dream.” She shuddered, still on the verge of coming but not quite there.

  With a cry, Anny flung herself out of bed and hurried to the bathroom. This had to stop. She couldn’t continue on like this, wanting a man who wasn’t going to come back.

  She dragged the damp nightgown over her head and tossed it to the floor. The air was cool on her skin and she shivered. It was all too much.

  She gave the taps a vicious twist and stepped beneath the spray before the water was more than lukewarm. She cursed and gritted her teeth, letting the water cascade over her. Once the temperature adjusted, she grabbed the bottle of shampoo, squirted some onto her palm and began to wash her hair.

  Too bad she couldn’t wash her memories of Armand down the drain as easily as she could the suds from her shampoo. Not that she’d really want to. No, her memories of the night they’d spent together were important to her. They reminded her she was more than a thirty-year-old spinster with two cats, more than the single school librarian. She was a woman. Armand had reminded her of that and she was grateful for the awakening.

  She’d been letting her life drift by, but no more. It was time to make a plan, a bucket list of things she wanted to do. With her hair c
lean, she slicked it out of her face and grabbed the bar of soap and began to wash away the sweat and remnants of her erotic dream.

  Her skin was ultrasensitive, but she ignored it as best she could and continued until she was done. When the spray started to go cold again, she turned off the water. The silence closed in around her. Anny grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself, tucking the ends together over her breast.

  She stared at the woman in the mirror. There was knowledge in those eyes, as well as a sense of pain and loss. That’s what it felt like. Like she’d lost something special.

  “He’s not coming back,” she told her reflection. “You need to accept that, get over it and move on.” Good advice and she was determined to start taking it today.

  She made quick work of drying her hair and braiding the thick mass. She didn’t bother with makeup. She rarely did on her days off. All she had planned for today was chores and spending time with her two favorite people—Sue and her son.

  She dropped the damp towel on the floor and padded back to the bedroom. Anny did her best not to look at the bed. Still, goose bumps raced down her arms and it wasn’t just because she was cold.

  “Stop thinking about him.” She pulled on clean underwear, jeans and a long-sleeved cotton top in a vibrant blue that brought out the color of her eyes. Feeling better, she jammed her feet into a pair of sneakers and turned to face the bed.

  The covers were a tangled mess, but it was the pillow on the left side that drew her attention, the one that still carried the slight smell of Armand.

  “Enough.” Anny marched to the bed and stripped off the bedclothes, bundling them together. Deciding she might as well tackle all the laundry, she went into the bathroom and gathered the used towels and shoved them into the hamper with her dirty clothes.

  She dragged everything to her tiny laundry room off the kitchen. “Sheets first.” Before she lost her nerve. She stuffed the sheets and towels into the washing machine, but she hesitated when she reached the pillowcase.