Sleeping With the Wolf

by Maddy Barone

  Taye and his wolf were two beings who shared his body. When he was a man the wolf was pushed into a quiet cage in his mind unless he was agitated for some reason. But Taye the man was dominant over the wolf, so the wolf couldn’t break out of the cage without severe provocation. Some wolves, especially when the human was very young, or less dominant, could take control. It took time to learn to manage the wolf. When Taye was a wolf he was the one who was pushed aside. The wolf’s wants and desires were simple: food to eat, the joy of hunting, a Pack to be part of, a mate to cherish and protect.

  Carla shifted uneasily, horrified by her thoughts. “Taye,” she whispered. “When we … you know. You’re not going to be a wolf, right? Ever. Because, that is not going to happen.”

  “You mean sex?” Taye said calmly. “My wolf doesn’t want you sexually. He leaves that part to me.”

  “Oh, good. I was scared there for a minute. But I thought he was the one who picked me?”

  “He did. To be his special companion. He wants you to be the person who belongs to him, kind of like … a horse belongs to a human.”

  Carla stared at him blankly. “A horse?”

  Taye frown and shook his head. “That’s not a good description. It’s like…”

  As Taye trailed off, obviously frustrated to not be able to explain better, another man stepped up to the table. He had light brown hair in a tangled mess hanging in his face and past his shoulders and vivid green eyes peering through it. “I heard my father explain it once to my mother. He said that to his wolf, she was like the only warm house in the middle of a deadly blizzard. She gave him a safe place to shelter in, one that was just for him, and he would take care of that safe place and defend it from intruders.”

  Carla’s mouth formed an “Oh,” without sound. Then, “Is that why the wolf doesn’t want me to shake hands with other men? He thinks that might let them into his safe shelter?”

  “Exactly,” said Taye with relief. He rested a hand on the other man’s arm. “Thanks, Quill.”

  Quill had a shy smile of surpassing sweetness, and Carla reduced her estimate of his age from early twenties to late teens. As he walked away, Carla realized she had looked at him without embarrassment because she hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t wearing clothes. Maybe she was getting used to it.

  Taye took her hand and pressed it against his cheek. “So you see why you need to stay away from strange men? Will you do that for me?”

  “I guess.”

  Taye got up and kissed her gently on the lips. “I’m going out to train again this afternoon. You can play with your gift. I’ll see you at supper.”

  The scratches across his chest were faint, almost completely healed. Carla touched them lightly. “I haven’t really thanked you yet for the guitar. It’s the best present I’ve ever gotten.”

  Taye’s smile was wicked. “You can thank me tonight. After supper. When we’ve retired to our room.”

  Carla’s blush was hot. “O-o-okay,” she stuttered, remembering the way his fingers worked her last night.

  After he stripped off his sweatpants and handed them to her to put away, she took one long deliberate look at him. And she liked what she saw. He didn’t seem to notice, only smiling at her and leaving the dining room. Carla fanned her face for a minute, then gathered their dishes to take into the kitchen.

  The kitchen was in the process of lunch clean up. Three teenagers were there washing dishes, cleaning the grill, and wiping the counters. Sky was one. He nodded to her and took her tray. He sniffed delicately at her.

  “So, you and the Chief finally gonna do it tonight?”

  Carla opened her mouth to snap that it was none of his business. But Taye had explained that the Pack was family, and they all cared deeply for each other. The human concept of privacy didn’t exist in Pack life. As Lupa she was like their mother.

  “We’ll see,” she finally muttered.

  “I bet you will,” he predicted cheerfully. “You smell like you really like him.”

  Carla escaped from the kitchen and headed to her guitar in the rec room. There were a few men lounging there, and when they saw she was opening the guitar case they begged her to play for them. So she did. It wasn’t long before she had a dozen listeners. But most of the songs she was singing had lyrics that talked about things they couldn’t comprehend, like divorce and cheating, or phones and trucks, so she switched to other, lighter songs. The dozen men swelled to an audience of about twenty-five. She sang a song she had written a few months ago but never recorded about a young girl who loved rainstorms and then one about a mother’s love for her soldier son. The audience was responsive. Who would have thought that a song about a man who loved a girl who married someone else would bring werewolves to tears? They leaned against one another, a pile of naked muscular men weeping for a made-up lover in a song. She lightened the mood by singing a silly children’s song. Carla loved the sound of this guitar and felt a wave of gratitude for Taye’s generosity. And a wave of sadness for old Mr. Gray’s loss of his wife. She should write a song for him about this old guitar and the journey it had taken, carried by a man who loved the woman who had played it. She launched into the upbeat chorus of “Sleeping With the Wolf,” but without the words. She needed to finish that song, but she was waiting for current events to unfold to know how the song would end.

  When she finished she looked up and saw that the rec room was filled with silent wolves, including Taye. She laid the guitar carefully aside and went to him, and kissed his lips softly.

  “I love my guitar, Taye. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  He returned the kiss just as gently. “You’re welcome, mate. I love you and I want you to be happy.”

  How was a woman to keep from falling in love with a man like this?

  Taye saw his pants folded on the table and went to put them on. Carla watched, enjoying the way the muscles in his back, butt, and thighs stretched and bunched as he moved. He didn’t have the bulky physique of a body builder, with muscles bulging and veins popping, but the leaner build of a swimmer. Each muscle was hard and defined, and he moved with the smooth feral grace that all the wolves had. What would he be like in bed? He saw her staring and lifted an inquiring eyebrow. Carla pretended she had been examining him for injuries.

  “You didn’t get hurt again, did you?”

  He smiled and held his arms out, inviting her to see for herself. “Not even a scratch. I am perfectly well.”

  She stepped closer, looking critically at the red mark below his belly button which was all that was left from his fight with Pete. Her finger barely grazed the top edge, and his belly muscles jumped. “How about this?”

  “That is healed,” he said huskily. “I am completely whole, sweetheart. May I seduce you tonight?”

  Carla’s tummy fluttered with nerves and maybe anticipation. “Does a man have to seduce his own wife?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never had one before.” His mouth smiled, but his eyes were serious. “I’d say that is up to you.”

  The nerves grew, but after a moment, anticipation covered it. “I’d say I might like being seduced tonight.”

  Now his eyes smiled too, and he looked like a kid who had just unwrapped the one Christmas present he had most hoped for. “Then I will seduce you. I have it all planned out, step-by-step.”

  “You’ve planned it? How many steps did you plan?”

  He winked at her. “You’ll find out.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her along with him toward the hallway. She dug her heels in. “Not right this second!”

  His surprise melted into a chuckle. “No, I’m going to take a shower before supper.”

  “Oh.” Relief made her heart pound. “Okay.”

  He sniffed at her. “Are you scared?”

  “No.” When the worry on his face didn’t go away, she added, “Just a little nervous.”

  “Oh. I guess it’s up to me to calm your nerves. It’s in the plan.”
<
br />   “Well, then. I’ll just leave that all up to you. Go ahead and take your shower. I’ll hang out here with my guitar.”

  She went back to her guitar and held it like a baby for comfort. Not that she was really frightened. She was actually looking forward to being with Taye. This was just wedding night jitters. Some of the wolves saw her with her guitar and clustered around her.

  “No, I’m not going to play right now,” she told them.

  “Maybe after supper?” the one who looked fourteen said hopefully.

  Sky answered for her. “Can’t you smell her? She’s gonna be busy tonight.”

  Carla blushed, and the kid looked mystified.

  “She’ll be busy with the Chief,” Sky clarified impatiently.

  “Oh,” said the kid, with an adult’s comprehension. “That’ll make the Chief happy.”

  Carla put her forehead in her palm and shook her head. Everybody knew what she and Taye were going to do, even the kids. This was so embarrassing.

  “What’s wrong, Lupa?” the kid asked. He petted her arm anxiously. “Are you hurt?”

  “No,” Carla mumbled. “I’ll play a few songs tonight after supper, okay? Just leave me alone for now.”

  She was getting used to Taye’s smell. It was hot and masculine. She knew he was standing beside her and looked up at him awkwardly. His hair was still damp from his shower, finger combed, from the spiky look of it. Carla thought he had never looked better. “That was a quick shower.”

  He smiled, and it made him look boyish. “It doesn’t take me long. I don’t have hair down to my waist, like some wolves do. So you’re going to sing for us tonight?”

  “Just a few songs. If you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind. That will fit with my plans just fine.”

  Carla stroked a hand over his arm. “I was thinking. Everyone seems to like my music. I’m really looking forward to playing on Sunday. I’d like to do that for other people too. You know, do some concerts like I did back ho—I mean, in the Times Before.”

  Taye didn’t even stop to think about it. “No.”

  Carla took a step back. His autocratic tone made her bristle. “No? That’s it?”

  “My mate doesn’t expose herself to strange men.”

  “What? Taye, this is what I do. This is who I am. I have to have something to do.”

  Taye looked down at her with stern eyes. “You’re my mate. The den is your responsibility. And we’ll have children soon.”

  Carla folded her arms over her chest. “Even if we have sex morning, noon, and night there will be no babies for a while. I had my contraceptive shot a week before I got on the plane.”

  The look of revulsion in his eyes hurt her. “In the Times Before people tried to prevent babies? I had heard of it, and read about it in books. But I can’t believe it. Why would you do that?”

  “Because … Never mind that now. My music is important to me. I need to perform. Not national tours. I get that. But maybe in some of the nearby towns and settlements.”

  “It’s too dangerous to let you go to strange places.”

  “It wouldn’t have to be strange places, and I would never go by myself,” Carla argued. She could see that she wasn’t budging him. “You remember the sex you wanted to have tonight?”

  “Carla.” He sighed. “You promised me you would stay away from other men.”

  “I will.” The type of concerts she was imagining were nothing like the concerts she had given in the past. She wouldn’t be wearing short skirts or pulling a guy from the audience to dance with. She let her arms drop. “Taye, my music is as important to me as being a wolf is to you. Don’t take that away from me.”

  He curled a hand over her wrist. “Would you really refuse me sex?”

  Carla blew out air. “No.”

  His hand began smoothing up and down her arm. “I’ll think about it. Maybe when my wolf has settled we can arrange something for you.”

  It was better than the flat-out refusal he had first given her. She slid an arm around his waist. “Let’s go eat.”

  Chapter Seven

  They ate supper sitting side by side at the head table facing the pack, and while they ate Carla wondered about those steps of his that he had planned out. He spent quite a bit of the time laughing with the other pack members and telling stories about some hunt he had been on last year. Since he wasn’t focusing on her she was able to relax. Supper was—surprise, surprise!—steak. She really would have to introduce them to some other foods. She didn’t expect wolves to be vegetarians, but there were ways to prepare meat besides grilling slabs of it until it was just barely warm. She thought Taye was ignoring her, but every now and then his large, warm hand would settle on her thigh and rub circles over the denim of her jeans, and she would jerk in an unsteady breath. How long before they could go to their room?

  The three teenagers who apparently had kitchen duty all day hurried the diners so they could get the kitchen cleaned up before Carla began playing. It was flattering to have such an eager audience. While she waited for her audience to gather, she mentally ran through all the songs she knew about wolves, which were very few. Werewolves of London was about it, and she didn’t even know all the lyrics. Right about now the internet would come in handy.

  Taye sat beside her near the fireplace in the rec room and held the end of her braid in his hand while she strummed and decided on a few songs. Instead of wolf songs, she would sing love songs. With her audience hanging on the words, she sang “I Swear” and “It’s Your Love,” and finished with “Love Me Tender.” Then she put the guitar away and whispered to Taye to give her fifteen or twenty minutes by herself in their room before he came.

  The wolves all howled raucously when she left, and she waved at them. They didn’t clap so this must be their version of applause. Carla wasn’t sure what they were applauding, her music or her wedding night. In their room the lamps were lit, but the wicks were low so the light was only a soft golden glow. The stove was putting out a comforting warmth. The sheets on the bed must have been changed, because the edge that was folded over the top of the quilt was embroidered with red poppies. Taye must have prepared the room for them. For tonight. He was a werewolf who had killed a vicious opponent only a few days ago, but to her he was very sweet. And utterly gorgeous. She hurried to the bathroom and washed and brushed her teeth. She dithered over getting undressed and putting on Taye’s T-shirt, but in the end decided not to. Then she dithered over taking her braid out and leaving her hair down. And that was when Taye came in. She turned to face him, clutching the comb like a weapon. He was magnificent in only a pair of cut-off sweatpants that rode low on his hips. The muscles of his bare chest gleamed in the lamplight. She was definitely overdressed.

  “Now you’re frightened,” he said sadly.

  “No, just a little nervous,” she insisted. “Do you want me to … uh, get undressed?”

  “No, that comes later in the plan. Come here, sweetheart. Let me just hold you.”

  She went to him and put her arms around his waist, still holding the comb. His bare shoulder was warm against her cheek, and his scent aroused her. “Is this Step One?”

  “Step One is to make sure you are not frightened.” He ran his hands up and down her spine. “Step Two is to make sure you are relaxed.”

  “Got any beer?” she asked, half joking.

  “No, no beer. Here, sit down and give me the comb. I’ll comb your hair for you.”

  Carla sat on the couch, half facing away from him behind her. She had never had anyone comb her hair except the beautician. She gave him the comb and felt his fingers loosening her braid. He was amazingly gentle when he separated the strands that had knotted at the nape of her neck. After carefully working out the few tangles, the comb slid through her hair in long lazy sweeps. It felt amazing.

  “I’ve wanted to touch your hair like this since the night I saw you at Ray’s,” Taye murmured.

  “Well,” she sighed. “You can comb my hai
r anytime. That feels so nice.”

  The comb continued to glide through her hair, followed by a caressing hand. His fingers moved under her hair to smooth over her neck and shoulder under her blouse. After a minute he swept her hair to one side to press a kiss to her nape. A row of featherlight kisses went from behind her ear, down the side of her neck, to her collarbone. She turned on the seat so she could see him. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and she lifted a hand to test the heat of his face. He caught it before she could touch him.

  “It’s not time for that step yet.”

  “What step?” Carla blinked.

  “You don’t get to touch me until after I’ve satisfied you.” He lowered her hand to her knee. “I’ve studied those romance books from the Times Before, and in every one of them the lady was pleasured first. Then the man. Now hush so I can continue with my plan.”

  Carla had to work to suppress her chuckle. She found her hand moving subtly on her knee, wishing it were his hand. “You know, Taye, those are only stories. In real life it doesn’t work like that.”

  “Hush,” he said sternly. “It’s my plan. Your job is to relax and enjoy.”

  “Relax and enjoy. I can handle that. I think. What’s the next step?”

  “Next—” His finger slipped inside her blouse and ran under the top edge of her bra over one breast. “—I get to see what your pantie look like when they are on you.”

  Her hands went obediently to the top button on her blouse.

  “No,” he growled. “I get to do that.”

  He waited until she replaced her hands in her lap and then unbuttoned each button with slow, deliberate fingers. Those fingers trembled ever so slightly when they brushed the tops of her breasts above the pink satin bra while spreading her blouse wide. Carla shuddered a little from the cool air and his eyes on her hot, exposed skin. “Are you cold?” he whispered.

  “With you looking at me like that? I wouldn’t be cold if we were sitting outside in January.”

  “I like looking at you. Are you as soft as you look?”

  Carla had to force herself to not squirm. “I guess you’ll have to touch to find out.”