“Let me show you something before you go.” It didn’t sound like a request.
He walked past me to a red metal door a few steps away. Opening it, he motioned for me to go inside, as if I had a choice. Around him, I felt like I should do as I was told.
I glanced behind me to see if there was someone who might hear my cries if, in fact, Mo was going to try to hurt me.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said as if reading my thoughts. ”We can leave your cart right here.” He took it from my hand and pulled it closer to the door. “This is a small town. No one is going to steal it.”
His smirk was filled with mischief. I couldn’t help but wonder if he had something planned for me behind this red door.
Be careful, Jaime. You don’t know this man, my conscience warned me as I stepped into the building. A part of me was enjoying the uncertainty. Being with Mo felt dangerous, and I needed a little of that in my life.
As I stepped inside, I saw what looked like the back room of an art studio. A dim light hanging from the ceiling was the only illumination in the area. Paintings lined the walls and there was a table filled with paint, brushes, and empty canvases in the corner.
“This is my studio. If you want, I can do a painting of you,” Mo said from behind me.
No one had offered to paint a picture of me before. The door slamming behind Mo made my heart skip a few beats. Looking back at him, he stood with a smile watching me and my reaction to his work.
“It’s all very beautiful,” I told him as I took it all in.
The paintings were a varied lot. Some were of women naked and posing, others of animals, and even a few of houses. One painting was of a burning house, and the detail was so realistic my body temperature started to rise just looking at the flames. The pictures covered the entirety of the walls from ceiling to floor. There were so many of them.
“You can have one, if you want. Until you let me do one of you.” Mo was so close now that I could feel his breath breezing through my hair.
“Thank you,” was all I could say. The butterflies had taken flight in my stomach again, and I felt it was a good idea if I didn’t look at him at this moment.
Instead, I concentrated on the pictures. One painting in particular caught my eye. It was of a man looking into a pond at his reflection. He looked down as a man, but his reflection was that of a wolf.
I was drawn to it, walking across the room to get closer. I even touched the wolf, the paint strokes rising up under my fingers.
“Is that what it feels like?” I asked Mo, daring to turn around and look him in the eyes.
He took a moment, pondering my question. He looked at the wolf also and then at the man, as if he was taking himself back to the place that allowed him to paint such an intimate picture.
“Sometimes. There are good and bad sides to every circumstance.” He moved closer, crossing the room to be next to me and his painting. He touched the canvas in the same spot that I had.
“What’s the bad part of it?” This was the first time that I’d been able to ask any questions about what I’d seen last night. I was too afraid to talk about it with anyone else in town, and Mo seemed like as good a person as any to ask.
“Well, some people don’t understand, and sometimes you have to do things that don’t come natural,” he said as he tugged at his clothes.
I smiled at him, thinking of how last night he was naked in front of me. Maybe they felt better naked. I turned my head so as not to look in his eyes when I asked my next question.
“And what is the good part?”
I tried to concentrate on the man in the picture, lifting my hand to touch him. He looked like Mo with the same cinnamon-colored hair and broad shoulders.
“I’m an animal. I have instincts and can feel things that others can’t.”
My heart stopped when he said that. Did he know that I was in need? Could he sense that my body was yearning?
My thoughts went back to last night and Warren’s words.
It’s mating season.
Shit. What had I gotten myself into?
Turning around to Mo, I decided it was probably best that I leave.
“Well it is nice to have instincts...”
“It is,” he agreed. “And you know what I feel right now?”
Shit, shit, shit...
I cursed myself, unable to breathe. I shook my head, but I was sure he would tell me anyway.
“I feel like you want me, and I want you.” He took my hand and placed it on his chest. The hardness of his muscles was a tantalizing juxtaposition to the warmth and softness of his skin. His hand pressed down on mine until I felt his heart beat pounding through his flesh, his shirt, and into my hand.
“I want you,” he murmured softly. “I wanted you from the first time I saw you.”
No... No, don’t do this.
I wanted to scream, but my mouth was no longer working. I was locked in on his eyes, grey with a cinder of red burning through them.
When I parted my lips, he was already kissing me with his. My arms were now wrapped around his neck, my fingers pulling at that same cinnamon hair that I had been yearning to touch.
Mo was rough, grabbing at me and pushing me against the wall. Our kisses were hungry and deep as his tongue entered my mouth. I could feel his teeth graze my lips, and the deep hum of a growl that seemed to escape him made my skin prickle with gooseflesh.
He wasn’t tame like Warren; this was a full-blown wolf I was kissing.
“I want you. Now,” Mo said, grasping me urgently.
Lifting my shirt, he licked at my breasts and pulled them from the cups of my bra. His tongue seemed to be everywhere at once, wetting me and sucking at my nipples. My knees threatened to buckle from the pleasure, but Mo’s strong arms held me up.
“Then take me,” I whispered to him. I couldn’t believe those words came out of my mouth.
Without hesitation, Mo did just that.
My shorts came off so fast that I was helpless to stop him even if I’d wanted to. He drew me against his body with a strength I couldn’t hope to overcome, and when my feet left the floor, I felt light as a feather.
With one hand, he pushed the brushes and empty canvases off the table to make way for my body. Lying on my back with my legs dangling over the edge, and my shorts somewhere on the floor, I welcomed whatever he wanted to do to me.
I wanted to see his hardness, but instead, he knelt down on the floor, yanking my legs up over his shoulders with his mouth directly in front of my mound. My panties were the only barrier between us, but the thin fabric was no use in stopping him from getting what he wanted. I could feel his breath wafting through the lace of my panties.
“I’m hungry.” he told me, his eyes locking with mine. “I want to eat you.”
A shudder of budding fear ran through me. Had this all been a trick?
Then he pulled my panties to the side with such force that the band of lace snapped in half, flung over his shoulder, and kissed my bare pussy lips, burying his face into my center as his mustache tickled my skin.
I looked down at him, just hoping the table wouldn’t give way. I hadn’t done this in so long I forgot the proper etiquette of it all, but when Mo’s tongue parted my rosy pink lips, the shot of pleasure and adrenaline that followed made all my worries disappear.
“You taste so sweet,” he moaned from between my legs.
His tongue worked slowly, traveling up and down my clit as if he were trying to memorize every fold of me. His tongue and breath were sweltering against my sex, sending shivers through my body as he licked me from the bottom of my clit to the top.
I moaned, filling up the gallery with my cries of ecstasy in octaves I didn’t even know were possible. Mo held my legs and pulled me closer to the edge of the table so my lips were directly in front of his face. He smiled at me, enjoying the rapture written across my face.
“There you go. Let me hear you scream.” The intensity of his ministrations increa
sed, his tongue lapping at a frantic pace.
I wanted him inside me. At that moment, I didn’t care that he was a werewolf, or even that I didn’t really know him. Right then, I wanted him thrusting between my walls more than I wanted anything in the world.
But this was his show; he was in control, and all I could do was submit to his desires.
Mo went from licking to sucking me. The slurping of his lips against my wet pussy were nearly loud enough to compete with my moans. I gripped the sides of the table as my legs shook and wrapped around his neck.
A moment later, symphony of desperate cries echoed off the walls of the art studio. Opening my eyes, I looked around at the dozens of paintings. All of them seemed to be staring down at me.
Mo reached up my shirt, searching for my breasts and fondling them when his fingers found hidden treasure.
As he teased my nipples, I finally lost control. With the eyes of the paintings watching me, I came, covering his face in my sweet, sticky juices. I’d never seen anything sexier than looking down at Mo’s glowing eyes, but his teeth worried me. They were long and sharp now.
I was both scared and turned on by him. I wanted to speak, tell him that his attention felt so good and I wanted to take it further, but then a bell rang in the distance. I heard footsteps, and then a voice calling for Mo; a woman’s voice.
Mo stopped, his head rising from between my legs. He sniffed the air.
“It’s my wife,” he muttered. “Stay here.”
His voice quivered as he leapt to his feet while wiping his face and walked out of the room, leaving me half naked on the table in his art studio.
“Honey, what are you doing here?” I heard him say.
I closed my eyes. He has a wife... dammit, Jaime.
I listened as I grabbed my shorts from the floor. They were talking about food or something, but my head was buzzing with the thought of him being married.
“Is someone here?” I heard her ask, her voice loud and clear as if to warn me.
That was it. I opened the red door from whence I came and slowly let it close behind me.
Once I was back outside, I grabbed my push cart and walked as fast as I could towards the street. I didn’t look back, not even once. My only concern was getting the hell out of there. My straw hat had come off, and I left my mangled panties behind in Mo’s studio, but at that moment, I just didn’t care.
I saw Becky as soon as I reached the street. I wished she had magic and could start up and come to me instead of having to walk all that way.
I ran to her, throwing my shopping bags and cart in the backseat. Whatever the speed limit was, I certainly exceeded it when I burned rubber out of town.
I was always getting myself into trouble like this. Even in Hillston I couldn’t stay away from the wrong men.
*****
I took my second shower of the day. This time, I preferred it hot.
I wanted to get every trace of Mo off my skin. I could still feel his tongue swirling around my sensitive rosebud and his hands all over my body; the scorching heat of his kisses on my neck and his lips on mine. I promised myself that it was our first and last time together. I wasn’t the type to date married men.
The word married bounced around my head a dozen times as I scrubbed my hair. I remembered his grabbing at my hair as he pulled me close. Dammit, even werewolves couldn’t stay faithful.
“They’re wolves, for Christ sake,” I muttered as I lathered up for the third time. From head to toe, I washed myself for what felt like an eternity until the water turned cold and forced me from the tub.
I threw my clothes in the washing machine and put in way more detergent than I should have. I didn’t want his scent anywhere near me.
Dressing in pajama pants and an old t-shirt, I popped the cork on a bottle of wine I’d purchased. I just wanted to eat some junk food and go to sleep.
I sat in the living room with my feet curled under me, thinking of how I needed to change my life. Today was a sure sign that my decision-making skills were too easily compromised when the male species was involved. How had I missed that he was married?
I thought back, trying to recall if I’d seen a ring on his finger, but that was still no excuse. The absence of a ring was not a free-for-all, and I still needed to use my better judgment.
I enveloped myself in these deep thoughts as I drank my wine. I was so caught up in them that I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a knock at my door.
I was unable to move, paralyzed by fear that it was the adulterer coming to apologize.
“Jaime, its Warren.”
Hearing his voice allowed my heart to start beating again. Opening the door, I wasn’t too concerned about how I looked anymore. Once a man inserts his finger inside you, I figured it was pretty safe to say they knew you.
“Hi,” was all he could say when he saw me with a wine glass in my hand. He came bearing gifts.
“What’s that?” I asked, referring to the cake dish in his hand.
“Pecan pie that you didn’t get to eat last night. May I come in?”
I thought about it. I wasn’t sure if I should allow him inside after everything I had been through today. But he was safe. I remembered the picture of my grandma and his grandfather, and all my trust came back. But I still needed something from him before I allowed him to enter.
“On one condition,” I said at last.
He tilted his head to the side and smiled. “And what’s that?” I’m sure he thought it was something naughty, but on the contrary; I needed something longer-lasting than that.
“I need you to tell me the truth about everything, including you and this town.”
His smile faded. A few moments passed. I could see he was debating whether he wanted to open up or not.
“Okay, fine,” he said at length. “I’ll tell you everything I know.”
I let him inside and locked the door. This was guaranteed to be a long night.
*****
“How long has your family been here?” I had a million questions, and if he was willing to answer them all, then I was going to ask each one.
“Hundreds of years,” he said, taking a sip of the wine I’d poured him. Both of us were now on the couch facing each other with wine glasses in our hands. “We were the original settlers of this land.” He looked proud of this, but it seemed as if he was holding back.
“Is your entire family like... this?”
He knew what I meant, and he nodded in reply. So, Grandma did know about them, or at least, I guessed she did.
I tried to remember back to the things we’d done on our short trips to Hillston. It was so long ago that I couldn’t remember anything except swimming in the lake.
“You look beautiful when you do that.” He smiled as I noticed I was twirling my hair around my finger, something I did when I was deep in thought. He was checking me out, but I needed to get some things out of the way first.
“Are you married?” I asked him. His laugh filled up the entire room.
“No. I haven’t found the woman that fits me... yet.” He took a gulp of his wine when he said that, and I wasn’t sure what he was implying, so I moved on with my questioning.
“What’s your relationship to Mo?” I looked away when I asked him that. I could still feel Mo’s tongue wriggling around my clit, begging me to cum in his mouth. I tried to shake off those memories as Warren answered the question.
“Mo is the leader of a different pack. They’re a bunch of low-life scum that seem to think they’re entitled to something.”
Yeah, like how he felt he was entitled to me, but I didn’t tell Warren that.
“What do you mean?” I asked instead.
Warren took a deep breath as he stared off out the window into the darkness. I’m sure he probably had a colorful past with the asshole cheater that I knew as Mo, but what he said surprised me.
“We used to be best friends. He changed after they lost the land. He assumed it was my fault.” His fa
ce was blank, and I could see his mind was traveling to a distant place. I wanted to ask him more, but something in me decided that I had asked too many questions about this already.
I tried to change the subject. “So, how does it feel being a wolf?”
He smiled at that question and took a sip of his wine before he spoke.
“It’s my life. I can’t imagine its being any other way.” Then he turned to me, putting down the wine glass on the coffee table.
“What about you?” he asked. “Why are you really here?”
Oh, brother. I wasn’t quite ready to tell that story, but it was only fair that I expose myself to his potential scrutiny since he’d done the same for me.
“In a nutshell, my boyfriend and I broke up. Then I lost my job, and I decided to move away and find myself.” It was the short version, but it was all I was willing to give up at the time.
Warren frowned. “Why did you break up?”
I sighed. Why didn’t we breakup would have been an easier question to answer.
“He didn’t respect me or my body. He said very often that I was on the curvier side of curvy. Plus the cheating.”
His eyes got wide at that last bit. “I would respect you and your body.”
I didn’t mean to, but I laughed. I decided it was a good time for me to go ahead and get a bite of this pecan pie.
Walking to the kitchen, I grabbed a plate, and as I turned around he was there.
“Shit... how can you do that without me hearing you?”
He gave me a look, and I already knew the answer to that. I guess wolves can naturally sneak up on their prey.
“He didn’t respect your body?”
I nodded, wondering where he was getting at. I had hoped he forgot that his fingers were four inches deep in my pussy last night.
“I want to respect you.”
How did this happen? How was I again here with another man trying to get in my pants?
“What we did last night was a mistake,” I told him, and it was true. Because of that indiscretion, I’d been vulnerable today and allowed something to happen that I shouldn’t have. But here I was with wet hair, wearing an old, oversized t-shirt and pajama pants, not to mention no make-up, and this man still wanted me.
Howling at the Moon: The Complete Series Page 4
