We take off and the experience of running combines with the jolt of adrenaline to leave my mind curiously free. I don’t feel Vivian’s weight in my thoughts and the gorgeous werewolf in front of me starts to look sexier by the second. We make it to the trees without incident.
Naomi eyes my growing erection. “I’m betting whoever squeezed off the shots that hit Deneishia is long gone.”
I do my best to stop staring at her pert nipples and ignore the light sheen of sweat making her skin glisten like lickable chocolate.
“Has it been that long Jon?” She smiles to take the sting from her next words. “I would have expected better control during a situation like this from an alpha of your caliber.”
I turn my face to the side, refusing to talk about what I can and cannot handle as an alpha. It’s a little too late to hide my arousal, so I do my best to think unsexy thoughts and will the blood away from my growing dick. “You’re the one eyeing me up and talking about my ‘meat’. I’m just a poor guy trying to do good when he sees an old packmate in need of help.”
“Uh-huh, sure.” Her eyes roam down my body.
“Hey, if you keep looking at me like that, it will continue to grow.”
We walk in silence for a few minutes. Which is good. I can’t keep up the banter and not get a woody.
Naomi glances sideways at me, to see if I’m under control. “Who could have set that trap if it wasn’t one of your employees?”
Her question douses the rest of my arousal and I’m able to focus my attention like I should—scanning the nearby trees to search for a glint of metal or glare from a scope. “I don’t know. That’s something we’re going to need to talk to everyone about.”
“You think it could be one of us?”
“Not everyone has gone on both expeditions, have they?”
She snorts her disagreement on my path of reasoning.
“Is your leg holding up?” I refuse to look at her well-muscled calf again when she’s naked or I could very well embarrass myself with another half-mast here in the woods.
“Stings, the bleeding has slowed. But I can run.”
“Good. We’re not safe here. Let’s get you back with the others at the inn.”
We take a circular route, jogging at an easy pace. We come across another group of four wolves and relay what happened while they stay in wolf form. I don’t recognize these by sight and Naomi tells me when they leave that they were two of the three married couples I didn’t know well. Now that I think of it, besides Spike, all the lone wolves Romeo’s group brought are female. I’m surprised more single men from his pack didn’t want to try their luck at big-game hunting, but then again, they may plan on coming later in the season when more large animals are around.
By the time we reach the first family cabins, Naomi is limping. Without a word, I scoop her up and toss her over one shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
“Hey!” she squeals in an indignant cry. Quickly, her tone changes. “No, we’re good. I’ve got a great view of your ass from this angle. Forge on, my wolfman!”
The blood rushes to my cock again with her shapely ass mere inches from my face. Damn, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
Naomi starts to wiggle. “Put me down, now.”
“No.” I don’t want her to see my arousal. Even the smell of her healing wound isn’t cooling my interest.
She drives her knee into my chest, loosening my grip to allow her to slide off my shoulder. I try to turn my body to the side so she can’t feel my erection, but it’s too late, she slides a strong thigh over it on her way down.
In a flash she’s wrapped her hot hand over my length and starts to pump me. “Oh, what do we have here?” She reaches her free hand up and pulls me down by the neck for a slow, lingering kiss. Her tongue delves deep into my mouth, and the scent of her own arousal permeates the air.
I pull back. “Naomi, not here.” I look wildly at the empty cabins, wondering if I should break down a door to give us privacy. “In a bed, please.” My breath comes in pants as she pulls my erection. “When you’re bandaged and not bleeding….” A gurgle of sound bubbles in my throat, indicating I’m close to losing what little control I have left. “Where I can treat you right.”
She places a finger against my lips while continuing to stroke my aching cock. “Now it’s your turn to shush.” She shifts her weight, proving she’s feeling okay. “What a miracle, I don’t feel my wound at all.” She amps up the speed of her hand and twists her fist at the end, slicking my own pre-come over the swollen head. “If I don’t ease you right now you’ll be of no use to me later.”
I cup her head with my hands and kiss her deeply. She smells like the forest and green living things, and her grip feels like heaven. No visions of red hair, no lingering thoughts of threesomes…. No dreams of fangs sinking into me when I come. Geez, I better shut down my mind or I’m going to ruin this. I break the kiss, gasping for air. “Oh God, Naomi…”
“That’s it, baby, let yourself go.”
She returns her mouth to mine and latches onto my bottom lip, tugging it between her lips, sucking. Heat burns the base of my cock, building pressure under her tight grasp. A rustle sounds to our right, but I ignore it, too close now to care about anything else. Two more solid pumps and release rips from my body, shooting white ribbons of come into the late afternoon air.
My hips jerks with her slowing strokes, each pass a gentle milking of sensation through my attention-starved body. “Christ…” I rest my head on her shoulder, wrapping my arms around her in a loose embrace. “I needed that.”
She laughs low, a seductive sound full of promise. “You don’t say, huh? That was one of the fastest orgasms I’ve seen in quite a while, Mr. Alpha.”
A guttural growl issues from a scrub brush, pulling us around. Black fur rushes forward, a snarling muzzle showing sharp teeth stops six feet from where my ejaculation hit the ground.
Naomi makes a shooing motion with her hand. “Go away, Spike. We had our fun. You and I have been done for a while.”
Spike’s golden eyes don’t rest on Naomi long, but hover over me instead. “You and he were an item?” The unique smell of the werewolf floats up to tickle my nose. I am not gay, dammit. There is no reason he should smell good to me. Has being tied to Vivian for so long somehow fucked up my sense of who I’m attracted to? Then again, I had no problem getting hard over Naomi’s glorious ass, so that can’t be it. Maybe I’m bi and didn’t know it? Attraction is attraction; no reason to place a label on it. I must be doing it now to ease my own confusion.
Naomi turns her back on Spike to show what she thinks of him and tugs me along to walk next to her. “I wouldn’t say we were an item. But we had fun once or twice.”
Spike trails behind us and growls again when I glance sideways at Naomi’s impressive rack. “Was it once or was it twice? And did you dump him?” I look over my shoulder to see the snarling form pacing us about four feet. “Back off, old man. You had your chance.”
She huffs and pouts a bit. “If you must know, last fall he licked my pussy like he couldn’t get enough. He visits here in January, and then poof, comes back distant. Now he’s just interested again because I’m not. Typical jealous werewolf shit.”
January was when Spike locked eyes with me and I could have sworn he looked like a woman for a split second. What I really need to figure out is whether Spike’s growling his displeasure at my actions or Naomi’s? Or maybe he’s more annoyed at our timing? After all his packmate has been shot, and I’m the one getting jerked off without a care in the world.
Stupid fool, that’s what I am. Alphas don’t get a break. Especially when those they’re supposed to protect are injured. I straighten my shoulders, slightly disgusted by my own behavior. I wouldn’t stop Spike if he decided to bite me instead of just growling like a fiend.
The fun and diversion of the last few minutes melts the moment we enter the hot tub grotto. Tension from the shooting pulses back to life and our little m
oment of happiness is over. Naomi looks wistfully at me and whispers, “Our time will have to wait, Jon. We’ve got much more pressing matters, now.”
I nod and pat her shoulder as I walk away; grateful she’s got a good head on her shoulders and isn’t clinging to my side like we’re now a mated pair or something dramatic like that.
The sun hasn’t quite set, so Asa won’t be able to come outdoors yet. Eric and Pat mill about the cooking area near the dining room entrance, handing out sweat pants and towels for showering werewolves. I stroll up to them, hoping the smell of my own release is hidden by the press of furry and non-furry bodies in the area. And if it isn’t, fuck it. Neither of them have the balls to call me out on the inappropriate timing on my part.
Hey, she grabbed my cock. Not like I asked her to. Why does it sound as if I’m trying to convince myself my behavior a few minutes ago wasn’t reprehensible? Why is Spike walking close enough to get his nose in my ass? I turn and swat the wet snout, telling him succinctly to back off.
“How is Denieshia?” I ask the pups. “Any word?”
Eric hands me a towel, raising an eyebrow when I don’t take it right away. What can I say; I’m comfortable being naked. Once I take the towel he answers, “She lost a lot of blood. I’m not sure how she’s doing.”
“Where are her alphas?” I ask, scanning the changed forms in the patio area for signs of Elsa or Romeo. It doesn’t look like everyone from their pack is here.
“Romeo hasn’t come back. Elsa is downstairs with Kotsana and the doctor.”
“Deneishia’s husband is one large scary dude,” Pat says “Kind of reminds me of The Rock.” At my blank stare he continues, “You know Dwayne Johnson? The Scorpion King dude?”
“Uh-huh, yeah. I’m sure he gives a shit about celebrity look-alikes when his wife has just been shot.” Pat flushes slightly at my chastisement. “If she doesn’t make it we’re going to have one really big, grief-crazed guy. Think about it like that instead.”
“Is that why Asa has a big tranquilizer rifle?” Eric asks.
I nod and head toward the owners’ apartment. “Yup. He and I wrote down a bunch of protocols in case things went south this summer. Although, we certainly didn’t bargain on someone shooting the wolves when we thought up problems.”
A gut-wrenching howl of pain echoes from the house, and the massive form of Kotsana’s half-changed werewolf hurls through the window over the kitchen sink. He growls and slashes at everyone close to him then charges at break-neck speed through the winding paths of the landscaped area.
“Oh, shit,” I say, fearing the worst. The tired wolves near us race off, in the hopes of tracking down their packmate before he harms himself.
A window on the second floor opens. The barrel of the tranquilizer gun slides out and aims in the direction Kotsana headed. A small puff of sound sends a brightly colored dart zipping after the rampaging werewolf.
Asa leans out the window wearing a ski mask despite the beginning of twilight and yells, “His wife is gone. Drag him back here so we can restrain him before the tranqs wear off.”
Chapter Eleven
Rafe
The overpowering odor of blood in the banquet room has diminished thanks to the strong coroner’s gel under my nose. I thought I could take the stink, but after tangling with Coraline and her henchman, my senses were alert to danger and the added adrenaline running through my system made the aromas impossible to ignore.
We’ve sat through three courses of vampire dishes and regular food served together. To be safe, Dria declined all of the blood concoctions. And I’ll admit, I’ve had a hard time eating with the dark red offerings sharing the same table space with my meal.
“No, thank you,” she says to a waiter offering a lumpy looking, disgusting blood pudding.
I stifle my gag reflex as our two undead dining companions dig in, excited by the extravagance and expense shown by the Tribunal. Their dates ignore the red glop set close to their own place settings and enjoy the cheesecake served to the humans.
My stomach gives a heave and Dria rests her hand on my sleeve. Settle, darling. It would be uncouth of you to vomit right here at the table.
A queasy smile crosses my face as I try to turn my attention solely on her rather than the feasting vampires surrounding me. I don’t know why it’s bothering me so much this year.
Could you be pregnant? She says with an amused lilt to her tone.
Gee, thanks.
Maybe it’s because in previous years we’ve skipped these tiresome meals and gone off somewhere to fornicate like horny teenagers while they’re served.
Even thoughts of sex can’t turn my mind away from the revolting dishes circulating during the dinner. Blood soup? I think I spotted some congealed lumps and clots in there. A spasm clenches my stomach, and Dria rises from the table.
“Excuse us,” she says to our unknown table companions. “We’re off to enjoy other entertainments for the evening.” My wife grabs my hand and leads me to a curtained alcove off the main foyer, outside the dining room.
I ease onto the red crushed velvet chaise while she closes the curtains. Dria turns to me, concern filling her face. Are you okay?
Yes. Just not myself with all the dishes and the eating. Really grossed me out tonight for some reason.
This coming from the man who can watch a Saw marathon while eating spaghetti, then sleep like a baby?
I grin at her mention of my love of horror films, all films actually, but everyone must have a few hobbies to keep them sane. The difference is I know those are all fake. Aside from the fact serial killers really do exist, it’s quite different sitting in a room with several hundred vampires consuming human blood dishes like we’re at a State dinner.
Dria nods and sits next to me, running a hand over my back in a soothing gesture. If it makes you feel any better, I think they used some cow and goat blood for the soup to set it off from the other dishes.
If you all can drink animal blood, why don’t you? I never understood that.
It doesn’t have the same nutritional value and doesn’t taste as good. She stops caressing my back when she hears voices approach the alcove next to us. Compare it with eating bugs everyday rather than following the food pyramid. Some things you were meant to have on a daily basis, and others, like crickets, will only suffice when you are extremely desperate.
The rustle of clothes and the rasp of a lowering zipper reach us through the wall and in a moment the sounds of new passion greet our sensitive ears. As far as distractions from the dinner goes, it’s a nice one—I absentmindedly listen to the creaking of furniture as the chaise next door gets a good pounding.
What was your impression of Coraline and Lucas earlier? Dria asks, seemingly oblivious to the noises of randy coupling drifting through the wall.
She didn’t seem to know about your mind manipulation in January, but she still hates your guts and suspects you of something. A low moan from a woman with whispers of “please, please…” have me picturing the last hour we spent on the airplane before landing yesterday. I shift in my seat, trying to push out the naked images of making love to my wife that the primal sounds induce.
Dria pats her hair, checking to make sure the pins are tight in her upsweep. Lucas has always had an axe to grind with me. I wasn’t surprised he ran off to find Cora the moment he could.
Who was that striking Mediterranean-looking woman with the long dark hair and strong nose who called the two away?
She calls herself Persephone. I can’t imagine she was born with that name. She’s one of the Ancients.
The fucking next door takes on a higher new level. When it’s apparent the woman is close to climaxing, I rise from the chaise. I pace to the curtains in two strides and turn back. “Unless you want me bending you over this chaise, we need to leave.”
My wife smiles and joins me at the curtain. Tempting offer, but I can wait ‘til we’re alone in our own room. Can you?
The woman’s orgasm shatters the
last of my control. I grab my wife and kiss her deeply as the waves of the woman’s crest sounds a few feet away. “Yes, my pet,” comes a husky whispered voice in the neighboring alcove. “Now, come for me again while I feed.”
I break off our kiss, all too aware of the danger around us in the Seat of Darkness and yank our curtain open. This is not the time to lose myself in my wife’s body. Heading quickly across the foyer, I hear the woman’s next release while her vampire lover pushes her into the abyss of pleasure.
The lights and sounds of the gambling room are loud enough to drown out the frantic fornicating. My cock is tucked tight against my body and its growing thickness will soon be noticeable if I don’t clear my head of the enticing noises. Dria catches up to me, the grinning minx, and slips her hand around the crook of my bent elbow.
“You ran out of there like the hounds of hell were on your heels.” A hint of laughter sounds in her tone.
“What can I say? I’m a guy and the sound of people going at it and enjoying themselves flips all my switches.”
The room you chose may not be a good one if you’re becoming aroused.
I look at the gaming tables filled with vampires holding cards and tossing dice and wonder what she means. I’ve been to a few of these big soirees in the past, but they didn’t offer gambling.
What could be the big deal? They’re betting with cash chips, right? I can handle that.
Not always, my dear. Stay on your toes. I’m not a fan of what goes on when my kind decides to gamble.
We stroll past craps tables and come to a thick gathering of male and female vampires around a slim counter. A gorgeous young blond woman stands on a raised dais behind it. She’s dressed in a short, pagan-inspired robe with fall leaves woven through a complex braided hairstyle. A lighted sign states her blood type as AB negative, her age, and her sexual orientation as bi. The sheer fabric of her robe hugs her tiny breasts and her dark, aroused nipples stand erect underneath, begging to be sucked.
Big Game (The V V Inn, Book 3) Page 10
