by Mel Teshco
A screen door flew open with a bang, an elderly woman’s high-pitched voice screeching from the veranda, “Git out of ’ere, the pair of ya! And git some clothes on before ya both catch yar death with cold.”
A dog roused into a frenzy of barking from another yard and the granny’s voice grew muffled with displeasure as she retreated back indoors. “Ya young ’uns have no respect these days.”
Semi-blinded, Holly allowed her lover to grab her by the hand and sprint away where darkness concealed them once more. But the moment of passion had been broken and she disengaged her hand from his.
“I…I have to go,” she murmured, suddenly profoundly shy. He stepped forward but she moved back. “I won’t ever forget you.” Then she turned and ran.
Branches snapped at her face and snared her hair, the misty rain distorting her human sight even more.
What am I doing? I don’t want to lose Ricky. Why am I drawn to this werewolf? Hell, she’d hardly thought of Ricky once this night as a lycan. The stranger—the anonymous were, had taken center stage.
Emotions shot, it took longer than usual for her to regain her bearings and find her clothes. They’d stayed dry beneath the thick tangle of shrubs. Even so, she struggled with shaky hands to pull them on, every nerve in her body strung taut, like wire stretched between two posts and ready to snap.
The male hadn’t tried to follow, and for that at least, she was grateful. Though it was during the first full moon of every month when werewolves couldn’t ignore the calling, sexual need was still rampant until the moon became crescent.
She jogged the short distance home, refusing to think about the give-away dampness between her thighs.
Her brow creased. What lies would she have to tell Ricky this time? She skirted a white pickup truck that was parked in the brick-paved driveway, a Border Collie chained in the back, madly yapping. Perhaps she’d tell the truth?
Sorry, honey. I went hunting for some fresh meat. When a male werewolf I shagged the night before showed up from nowhere and gave me the hare I was chasing down, I ate my fill, then enjoyed another climax after spreading my legs and letting him go down on me.
Unlikely!
She smoothed her damp hair and checked that bits of grass or leaves weren’t stuck to her shirt before she opened the front door of her quaint, two-bedroom home.
Female werewolves generally fell pregnant only once or twice in their five-century-or-so life cycle. When Holly’s mum had passed away the year before, she’d been left an only child.
The inheritance had given her enough money to pay for all her university fees along with this modest house close to everything she needed, including the bush haunts she yearned for every month as wolf.
With the sprawl of suburbia wiping out much bush land, many werewolves had become active, environmental lobbyists. It was one of the few ways their kind could halt the destruction of their mating and hunting areas without revealing their existence.
If humans found out about them, who knew how many would be murdered or locked away to be probed and studied. Humans feared the unknown and werewolves were legendary monsters.
The muted sound of the television told her where Ricky waited. She took a deep breath and pushed back her shoulders as she made her way into the lounge room.
Sprawled on the recliner, he looked up as she appeared. She put a hand to her mouth when she saw his face etched with fatigue, his brilliant eyes dull.
“What’s wrong? Honey, are you all right?” Anxiety from her sins dissolved as more urgent worries pressed her senses. He looked like hell.
“I’ll live.” He lifted the remote and clicked off the television. A tasseled lamp behind him threw out a weak pool of light. “I’ve been waiting to have our talk.”
Oh. She sighed, teeth catching her lower lip. “Okay.”
He straightened, his eyes suddenly intense, even with his evident tiredness. “I’ll be the first one to acknowledge—especially in my line of work—that everyone keeps certain things hidden, one way or the other.”
She nodded and inwardly cringed. “Yes.” Her voice cracked.
The recliner creaked as he leaned forward, his stare piercing. “Except secrets have a history of becoming exposed.”
She rubbed a hand over her eyes. “Look, if you’re asking if I have any secrets—”
A shadow flicked behind his eyes as he injected starkly, “I don’t have to ask. I know you do.”
Shit.
“But that’s okay.” He considered her. “I’ve been keeping one or two of my own.”
She felt dizzy suddenly, knew she’d gone ashen as he stood and put an arm around her shoulders, steadying her before sitting back down and tugging her onto his lap.
Her mind screamed disbelief. She couldn’t lose him. They were soul mates, destined to be together. Of that, she was suddenly, undoubtedly, certain. She would fight for him tooth and nail—and fang—if need be. She pushed her face into the warmth of his chest, breathing in his woodsy scent while her arms wound around him. Lord, she didn’t want to let him go.
His breath was warm on her scalp as he kissed the top of her damp head and then murmured, “So who wants to confess first?”
Holly pried herself away from his comforting embrace. “Shhh.” She pressed a finger to his lips before freeing the buttons on his shirt, one by one. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that talk is cheap and actions speak louder than words?”
She leaned down, kissing the gorgeous expanse of golden skin as his shirt slipped open. She refused to think about her indiscretion. She was were, simple as that. She had little choice but to be unfaithful. But now that she was with Ricky, it was almost painful to accept that part of her nature.
He let out a groan when she tongued his nipples and gently nibbled the hard tips. Tugging his shirt from his jeans, she moved down and pressed her open mouth to the flat plane of his stomach. Her tongue swirled around his navel and down along the crisp dark hairs until the denim made her pause.
She looked up to see his eyes were closed, his face taut with need. She slid one hand low and inserted her fingers under the waistband of his jeans before unsnapping the button and unzipping the fly.
Her belly tightened, pulled in all directions like a kite with a dozen hand lines. Her inner core contracted as she tugged his jeans down, revealing the crimson silk boxer briefs she’d bought him just last week, and his long, muscular legs.
His cock twitched beneath the silk as she slowly worked the briefs down, then it reared, heavy and full and splendid in all its naked glory, the head already glistening with his essence.
Oh, how she wanted him.
She stood, and piece by piece, she slipped out of her clothes. Ricky’s gaze turned molten as he opened heavy-lidded eyes and watched, utterly transfixed.
“Beautiful,” he whispered. His breath hissed as she knelt between his thighs, her tongue darting out and tasting extract-of-Ricky.
She smiled, then drew the head of his cock into her mouth, tongue swirling on the slit as she gently sucked. Her womb ached as she savored him, but she wanted more. Her tongue flicked down his length and her mouth enclosed his thick-veined shaft. .
She licked him all over, tracing the swollen, pulsating length. When he made throaty sounds of pleasure, she sucked the length of his cock a few more times, slowly and surely. His skin was satin-soft and yet hard as steel as she brought him close to release.
She kissed the tip of his erection, lingering for a moment before she moved up and straddled his lap. His breath hitched when she covered his sensual lips with an open-mouth, no-holds-barred kiss that made every one of her nerve endings curl with longing.
She drew away, inhaling deeply. “Do you want me?”
“Yes.”
She crouched low and allowed his cock to probe gently at the slick opening at the apex of her thighs. “I want to hear you say it.”
“Oh, you witch,” he breathed out, his expression caught between passion and admiration at her blatant payb
ack.
She ran her tongue along the fullness of her lower lip. “Tell me.”
“I…want…you.”
She smiled, triumph feeding an already greedy ardor at his confession. “Only me?”
His hands fisted at his sides. His brow was damp. “You know it.”
Head thrown back and hair trailing to her waist, she spread her thighs wide and sank slowly onto his cock.
Oh, sweet mercy.
He expelled a breath but his fists remained at his sides. He allowed her domination as her knees anchored inside each arm of the recliner and she rose and fell, riding him in an ever-increasing speed.
Heat coiled and writhed within, building with the pace. No longer able to resist, he cupped her buttocks and urged her on, his breath harsh and heavy, his face gripped with passion.
His jaw locked, and the upthrust of his hips abruptly stilled. He wrenched out a moan, his seed shooting hot and deep inside her.
Holly’s thighs clamped his hips as she spasmed around him, milking his every last drop, as she too yielded to an orgasm so intense she forgot to breathe. She collapsed in his arms, sucking air into her oxygen-deprived lungs. Her chin rested on his upturned brow, her forearms on the broad span of his shoulders as he sprawled back, utterly spent.
Running her hands through his damp hair, and only just then realizing he’d had a shower, she said huskily, “Let’s go to bed.”
Chapter Three
Holly parted the net curtains and peered through the bedroom window.
A full moon shone, bright and yellow in the cloudless sky.
Yet, here she was—still human, still with a human.
Only the oldest of her species could resist the need to change on the first night of each full moon. And even they were hard pressed to withstand the calling.
She frowned. So why hadn’t her body clamored to become lycan and seek out, then mate with, another of her kind?
The bed creaked then Ricky’s footfalls drew near. “What’s wrong?” His arms encircled her from behind, tugging her against his chest.
With a sigh, she dropped the curtain. It swished back, and the scene outside suddenly became a latticework scene of suburban rooftops, parked cars, shrubs and trees edging the street.
She snuggled close, her head fitting just beneath his chin. Draped in a wispy negligee, she felt all his hard warmth and inexplicably shivered.
“Nothing.” She turned, linking her arms over his broad shoulders. “What could possibly be wrong when I have you here to sate my every need?”
Ricky kissed her brow, but she sensed the twitch of his lawyer antennae when he said, “Mmm. Good answer.”
She pulled free, her eyes narrowing on his shadowy form. “Why do you ask?”
He frowned a little. “I don’t know. You just seem…restless.”
Her heart kicked into high gear. He couldn’t guess her secret. Not ever. She drew in a deep, slow breath—willing calm. “Perhaps I’m not ready for sleep yet.”
His eyes glinted. Then he bent, his mouth close to her ear as he murmured huskily, “Neither am I.”
* * * * *
Hands linked beneath her head, Holly watched as Ricky, golden skinned and shamelessly naked, strode from the en-suite.
God, he was gorgeous. Little wonder he was such a dynamic presence in the courtroom. Even before she’d met him at a friend’s ritzy party, she’d often heard his name bandied about.
He’d made quite the name for himself in the legal world, and from the moment she’d met him, it’d shown. He carried himself as someone who was comfortable in his own skin. A man who knew what he wanted and where and how he’d get there.
He drew on dark briefs and tailored pants. Tucking his crisp white shirt into the waistband, he glanced at his gold Rolex. “Damn. I’m running late.”
She smirked a little. “I’m not surprised.”
God. He’d been insatiable. With three marathon sessions last night where he’d drawn out their pleasure to fever pitch, followed later this morning with sex—raw and hard and vital—well, perhaps it wasn’t so odd that she’d not been compelled to mate with her own kind.
Knotting a claret-red tie at his throat, he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to her mouth. “Oh, I’m not finished with you yet,” he promised huskily. “Not by a long shot.” His eyes darkened as he straightened. “I’ll be home early.”
Her lips tingled, her nipples tightened to hard buds. “I look forward to it.” She sat up a little, her arms splayed out behind her, the silk sheets cool under her palms. Sleepily, she murmured, “You know, for a—” Mortal.
“Lawyer?” he filled in with a drawl, an odd gleam in his eyes as he shrugged into a matching, blue gray jacket.
“Ah yes.” She looked away, drew a breath and then met his searching stare. “For a lawyer, you’re extremely fit.”
“Hmm. At this rate I can give my lunch-time jogging the flick.” He pushed his feet into leather shoes before grabbing his running shoes from the walk-in closet. He shrugged, “Except I’m a sucker for punishment.”
As he took hold of his leather briefcase and was clearly ready to leave, Holly sat forward.
“Wait.” Suddenly she wanted to prolong their interlude. “Do you have time for some breakfast before you go?” She smiled. “I’ll cook.”
Ricky arched a brow. He was the whiz in the kitchen, not her. Her culinary skills consisted of burned toast and microwaved baked beans. “Thank you, but no. I might grab something on the way to work.”
The bedroom door closed behind him with a faint but decisive click.
* * * * *
“Holly!”
Halfway down the steps leading to the cafeteria, she turned and smiled at the golden-haired English lecturer. He leapt the stairs three at a time, clearly eager to catch up.
“Hi, Simon. Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” But he cleared his throat and started to fidget with his shirt collar as though suddenly hot.
Oh, no. Of all the female students Simon had in his sights, it had to be her! Damn. There were at least three or four very pretty, very available young women who’d done everything but toss him their panties to grab his attention.
“I just noticed you seemed a little distracted in class today. It’s not like you at all.”
Well. Duh. She mightn’t be out mating with lycans, but she’d quickly realized her every thought revolved and tangled itself around sex. With Ricky, with the were, with Ricky again. No wonder she wasn’t thinking straight.
“Sorry.” She dredged up another smile. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind.” You have no idea.
He walked with her down the last few steps, the spiked heels of her thigh-high boots clacking sharply on the concrete.
When they stopped at the landing, he leaned close. A large hand stroked her bare arm while he assessed her with frank eyes. “Anything I can help you with?”
Her breath hissed out. Damned if her body didn’t respond! Clearly she had been affected by the full moon, even if indirectly. She really must be cracking up. Here she was, getting off on a man who had barely touched her.
“I…” She licked her lips, swaying close.
A strong, familiar arm abruptly settled around her shoulders. “Are you all right?”
Simon’s hand dropped away as she drew back, the spell broken. “Ricky,” she said faintly. She looked up, her legs like rubber when she saw his tight expression. “What are you doing here?”
“I finished up at the office. I thought I’d take you to lunch.”
“Oh.” When he said he’d finish work early, she hadn’t realized it’d be quite this soon. He must have cancelled a stack of appointments. That was so not like him. Work drove him, made him tick.
She sagged against his hard body. “Sure. That would be nice.”
“Ah, let me know if you need any help with your studies.” Simon stepped away, visibly taken aback, and evidently aware of just who was the better man. The stronger man. The smarter man.
The far more attractive and magnetic…
Holly jerked her thoughts to a less dangerous path. She watched Simon stride away, his spine stiff. Her gaze then swung back to her immaculately dressed, handsome-as-hell lover.
So why did Ricky wear running shoes beneath his custom suit? He liked to jog, but never before his lunch hour. And never, ever while clothed in his fancy lawyer threads.
She’d often wondered why he’d moved in with her. Her quaint, two bedroom house in a less than salubrious suburb wasn’t exactly his style.
Many a neighbor’s curtain twitched when Ricky strode out, suited up for work—and quite a few more when he fired up his sporty BMW, its metallic green-black paint flashing, its engine growling.
Yes, he drove a fancy car and wore fine-cut clothes, but otherwise, he seemed indifferent to the trappings of wealth. The fact that he earned more in a month than most did in year didn’t matter. He was brilliant at his job and his income reflected that fact.
“So, where would you like to eat?” she said at last.
His fingers cupped beneath her chin, drawing her gaze to his. “How about on our bed?” His eyes gleamed. “There’s strawberries and cream in the fridge at home. I can serve them on you. Lick them from between your breasts and your thighs. You can suck—”
“Stop.” She leaned into his strength, bracing her body, now shamelessly flooded with desire. “Just get me home. Please.”
Chapter Four
Holly walked out of the doctor’s office in a daze, her hands pressed to her stomach.
Twins. She could hardly fathom it.
Her relationship with Ricky was stronger than ever. Yet she’d noted his brooding stare on her more and more often in the three months following that fateful night with her were lover.
Though Ricky hadn’t questioned her since she’d used sex to quiet him, she’d been aware he’d wanted to discuss things further. She’d steered clear of anything related to it, pretending an indifference that she certainly didn’t feel.
His seeing her with Simon hadn’t helped the situation one bit. Ricky was a possessive man. What was his, was his. Simple as that.
