Wiatt sighed and tucked himself back into his jeans. What was he doing? Getting off on a woman who had been traumatised by his race? It was impressive that Tatum had gotten through the traumatic event of being turned. Had she done it alone? Had she known what was happening to her? She had a strong resolve he thought, but she had a very vulnerable side, that would be all too easy to pick at and pull apart. He’d caught glimpses of it in the short time he’d known her. Wiatt could wait, would wait, he decided until she invited him to lay with her.
Doing his jeans back up Wiatt tore himself away from the open bedroom doorway and returned to the front room and plonked himself down on the couch. For a hard nights, restless sLeep. He couldn’t leave her alone, not now when he’d only just learned that she really had no control over her wolf shape-shifting abilities. He had to ensure that Tatum stayed safe from the public and to the public. Wiatt kicked off his shoes again and lay down on the couch.
The thought of some male wolf pawing at her flesh made him angry. The idea that she’d ever had to experience an attack like that, the pain, the terror, humiliation of it, gnawed at him and he tried to brush his anger aside. It wouldn't do for him, the supposed wolf in control of his animal side, to loose restraint and wolf out in her apartment. If Tatum woke up, she’d probably freak out and attack him without knowing it was him.
Wiatt let out a few deep calming breaths and pictured her naked form amongst her sheets. His cock twitched to life, again. He groaned and pulled a cushion under his head to use as a pillow. He’d wait the night out to see if she shifted in her sLeep and he’d be around to control her wolf, if she did. He sighed and made himself as comfortable as a six foot three man could, on a couch that was not designed to accommodate his frame.
20
On the rooftop of a building, in the still darkness of night down in Chinatown, sat two shadowed figures, on milk creates. There was cloud coverage over the moon that night, still and so it didn’t’ illuminate their presence. They could sit and watch the apartment opposite them, with the lycan and the werewolf, without being detected. There was also enough of a wall and air cooling ducts for them to sit behind, but see around or through, to see directly into the front room of Tatum Lee’s apartment.
“She was not giving him a lap dance.” Ash Bronson said looking away from the apartment and resting back against the air vent behind him. There was no point continuously staring at the apartment hoping something would happen, when Zane already was on watch and they’d seen exactly what had happened in there, not an hour earlier. They’d be privy to a private sex show of the lycan and their boss.
Zane ignored him and watched Wiatt D’arenberg lay down on the couch. “She was fucking him. Not him taking her, like you said. She was controlling him.” Ash rambled on. “He should fucking know better man, I mean he must know we’re fucking watching him! After all he’s the one who asked us to observe and report! He knows what we do for a living!”
Zane turned around to face his younger pack mate. “Shut up. If you keep talking as loud as you are you’ll give our position away.”
Ash looked at him, grey eyes staring hard at the older, rougher looking werewolf. “Are you kidding me? Who cares if he knows we’re out here. He’s the one who put us out here, remember? On a fucking lunar week, to trail a lycan he’s fucking around with! I mean is that why he wanted us to trail her, so we could report back if she was fucking around behind his back, is that it? I don’t get it man, I don’t get it.”
Zane pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. “Don’t get what?” he asked knowing he’d regret asking the question. Since Ash seemed to be rather pissed off with their current assignment, he hadn’t quit bitching and whining since they’d started it.
“Why is he sleeping with a lycan? Is he dating her, fucking her or telling what the price for membership is? What could possibly possess him to want to lower himself to that kind of level? I mean is it a kink of his we’ve just never clued into before?” Zane pulled out a cigarette and slipped it between his lips.
He understood where Ash was coming from. They’d both knew Wiatt D’arenberg well. They not only liked Wiatt, they respected him, it was why they worked for him. The Manhattan Maen werewolf pack was a strong one because of the standards imposed on their wolves. Like not allowing lycans into their fold. By not associating with lesser werewolves. By dominating werewolf politics and culture in the five boroughs. The Manhattan Maen were a solid, werewolf pack because they had a great leader, Wiatt’s brother Paris, who made hard decisions and made sure the hierarchy structure in his pack, worked to uphold those decisions and laws. That was what Zane and Ash did for Wiatt, for their pack.
“I think you’re just upset, you’re not fucking anyone tonight.” Zane replied pulling out a black lighter with a pinup girl picture on it. “Doing your wingman double act with Bohm.”
Ash looked over at his colleague. “Fuck you. Like you’re going home to get some pussy either.” Zane smirked and flipped the lighter open, hitting it. “See, jealous.” He muttered cupping the cigarette.
“I’m not jealous of that!” Ash said pointing back towards Tatum’s apartment. “I just don’t see the point to sticking at this job when clearly Wiatt’s spending all his god damn free time with her anyway. I mean, has he forgotten about us? That we have lives, that we need to hit the clubs it’s lunar week, we’re entitled.”
Zane dragged back on his cigarette and snapped the flip top lighter close. “Would you listen to yourself? You’re like a whiney little bitch.” He said blowing out smoke. “We’re doing a job.”
“There is no point to this job when our boss is fucking the mark.” Ash replied. “Which by the way, how is that acceptable? She’s not even one of our kind, hell she’s not even a Non anymore.”
Zane tilted his head and looked back at Ash as he pulled the cigarette out of his mouth. “So what does that mean exactly?”
Ash sighed exasperated and pushed off his milk create seat to stand up and stretch. “Why is the second in charge of our pack slumming with a lycan, what purpose could he possibly have other than his cock needs to be kept wet? Hmm?” Ash said placing his hands on his hips.
Zane watched the younger wolf pace around and kick and scuff the top of the roof top. He dragged back on his cigarette. “Wiatt’s not the second in command of the pack, you do know that right?” Ash strode over to him quickly. “Addison’s second in command. Wiatt’s probably not even in contention for the role. I doubt it’s even been discussed.”
“You know what I fucking mean.”
Zane nodded his head. He had an understanding of what was pissing Ash off from their assignment. And it wasn’t really that they were doing it over lunar week, sometimes that’s how things happened. Situations always arose at the most inconvenient times. He understood why Ash was disturbed about Wiatt mixing with a lycan. The Manhattan Maen just didn’t do that.
They weren’t like other wolf packs, like the Breukelen, the Neiwe Teme of New Jersey or the Seattle Alki. It was part of their strength that they remained a werewolf pack, not just a wolf pack. But Zane liked, respected and hell, he even admired Wiatt D’arenberg. They’d known each other a long time and Wiatt, unlike his older brother and pack leader, was far more personable. He had an understanding of people and wolves. Wiatt D’arenberg might be all werewolf, but his mindset knew the differences and Zane thought, often straddled the line between wolf and human. And was it really so bad if all Wiatt wanted to do with the female lycan was fuck her before moving her out of their territory? Zane had faith that Wiatt would do the right thing by his pack, he always had, after all, he was a Manhattan Maen werewolf and he was a leader.
21
Tatum woke up alone, naked, on top the sheets in her bed and sweating. It was warm out, or maybe that was again just another lunar week thing. She always seemed to be hotter than the weather allowed during the so called time of lunar week. It was like her body temperature went up several degrees. She should probabl
y ask Wiatt about that. She sat up and looked about her. Wiatt D’arenberg. She lifted her nose and sniffed, he hadn’t come to her bed. Of course he hadn’t come to bed with her.
“Why would he Tatum? You’re just a bit of tail and one that didn’t even put out.” She wondered if he’d played the gentleman and had slept on the couch instead. She crept out on her toes into the main room and found herself disappointed that he wasn’t there. Alone again. She dropped to her feet and walking out to the kitchen.
“Stop being surprised Tatum.” She scolded herself “Romantic notions will forever be your downfall.” She said heading to the fridge, where she found a note stuck to it. “You have no meat. Not good for a wolf during lunar week. Get some for dinner. W.” She read out loud before opening the fridge and seeing not much of anything in it. He had a point, she supposed. She looked across at the counter top where a pile of notes lay.
Still it seemed rather bossy of him to put it like that. She picked up the money and counted it, there was way too much there. Was he telling her to shop up big or was he paying her for something else? Unless of course, dinner meant he was going to have dinner with her. Not that the thought of meat didn’t make her hungry, it in fact made her very hungry, and she suddenly found herself craving it for breakfast. Or maybe it meant something else, like another night of naked wolf male under her and another orgasm. Maybe that was what dinner meant. Part of her hoped so.
Tatum bit her lip at the thought of Wiatt D’arenberg naked in her possession again. After they’d both gotten off last night, he’d cleaned up and she’d gone to bed and fallen asLeep before she even knew she was tired. Tatum had no idea what had happened to Wiatt. She hadn’t heard him leave. Tatum hadn’t slept so damn well in months. She felt well rested, which for Tatum was highly unusual during lunar week.
After all, she usually awoke feeling as antsy and cagey as the day before, because she needed the one thing she hadn’t been able to get as a lycan. Release. Part of her body, the human part of her felt the build-up and locked it down. Then the lycan part of her ramped up her need to fornicate and she looked at every male with a whining need to mate. And yet, she held out, controlled herself not to. She didn’t want to be like that. So she controlled herself, by staying away from everyone and everything when it got like that. She didn’t exactly barricade the doors but she didn’t socialise either. It was what had worked so far, up until last night.
Tatum tried to convince herself that she knew what she was doing with Wiatt D’arenberg last night. She pretended she believed her excuse for going to his house, to find him. “Yeah right, that’s why you wore a little black dress.” She muttered to herself, walking back out of the kitchen. “Although, maybe the way to a werewolves’ heart is through his stomach.” She walked back into her small bedroom. It seriously wasn’t much bigger than a closet. Crouching down beside her barely double bed, she reached under the bed and pulled out a duffel bag and pulled out some clothes. “And if that is the case, then Wiatt D’arenberg is toast.” Tatum said to herself holding up a black singlet top and sniffing it. “Cause it’s time for this wolf to get her appetite on.”
22
The three males watched the waitress smile brightly at Wiatt D’arenberg before walking away. Bohm looked from the waitress back at Wiatt. Reaching for his coffee at the same time as Wiatt was. Wiatt looked at Bohm. The younger werewolf knew better than to touch an Alpha wolf’s stuff, even if it was just coffee. There was an understanding of hierarchy in the Manhattan Maen and all werewolves were expected to adhere to it.
“May I?” the younger werewolf male asked, pointing to the coffee with the napkin resting on the side of the plate the cup came on. Wiatt knew what he was doing and so nodded his head and Bohm picked up and flipped over the napkin flat to the table for all to see. In pen was the waitress Cindy’s name and her phone number and the words call me. Jules burst out laughing.
“Unbelievable, you D’arenberg males, you don’t even have to work for it, do you?” Bohm muttered watching the Cindy the waitress disappear from sight. “It’s just, hi, I’m Wiatt and boom, they’re offering you phone numbers to find out where you’ll be tonight.” Bohm said shaking his head in disbelief. “While the rest of us schleps, do all the hard work.” Jules laughed and Wiatt looked back at Bohm.
“It’s never that easy. Back me up here Jules.” Wiatt said finishing off his coffee.
“Oh there is always a price to pay.” Jules replied with a chuckle. The boys laughed and watched as a couple of humans walked into the café.
“You can keep that.” Wiatt smirked at Bohm. “I don’t do nons.” Wiatt said referring to how non-werewolf Cindy the waitress was She might know about the werewolf scene locally but she was very distinctly human, which meant she wasn’t Wiatt’s type. When Wiatt thought about sex, he pictured Tatum Lee on his lap, as he watched her move about to get maximum pleasure out of him, for herself. He wanted to see her do that again, and again.
“Thanks for the scraps.” Bohm played along as Wiatt snapped out of his happy place of thought. The joking rivalry and humour continued until Wiatt finished his coffee and all the boys said goodbye to Cindy the waitress as they left. They’d barely been out on the sidewalk for long when Wiatt heard his name called. He turned around and looked down the street to see of all people, his mother walking towards him.
Marion D’arenberg like her sons, was tall, easily six foot and looked nowhere near her actual age. She was elegant looking in a very classical sense. She smiled politely at the pack of male wolves from behind her large Jackie-o sunglasses. “Wiatt, darling;” Marion greeted her youngest son with as she walked up to him. Wiatt was the one who looked most like her.
“Mom.” Wiatt replied bending down to kiss her cheek. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh just running some errands. I don’t suppose you know where your brother is, do you?”
“Uh, Paris, No.”
“He’s out with Addison I believe.” Jules pipped up quickly catching Marion’s attention.
“Boys,” Marion D’arenberg said acknowledging the Jules and Bohm as they stood just back form her youngest son.
“Mrs D.” Bohm mumbled a greeting and nodded his heads with eyes respectfully diverted from meeting Marion’s.
“Jules,” Marion said breaking into a wide grin at the blonde. She didn’t remember the younger wolf’s name and didn’t really care to. Marion D’arenberg knew who her boys closest compatriots were and who ran the show when it came to the hierarchal rankings in their pack and the one next to Jules wasn’t one of the power players. Which meant he was a nobody really. But Marion D’arenberg liked Jules Teehlan. He was not only gorgeous to look at but always charming.
“Marion, would you like me to get Paris on the phone?” Jules asked producing his cell phone for her to use.
“Oh no, that’s not necessary, I’ll catch him later.”
“You look lovely, did you do something with your hair? It looks different.” Wiatt shook his head and smiled watching their banter. Jules always knew how to schmooze his mother over. Always. It was like a hidden talent of his.
23
Tatum Lee felt something she hadn’t felt it seemed like, before, but really it was just a small case of forever. She felt happy as she walked the streets of New York City, handbag hooked over her elbow. She couldn’t stop smiling to herself, to the world at large. It was a warm day as much as she was warm herself, due to the effects of lunar week in the day time, and she was dressed like it was summer. Which made her happy too. Tatum loved summer, it’d always had good memories and good times for her. A Fitted, black singlet top and a short pleated black skirt and flip flops on. Her hair tied in braids.
She was meant to be grocery shopping, she knew, she had Wiatt’s note tucked in her handbag and she’d meant to do as it told, because the thought of dinner and then dessert, with Wiatt D’arenberg in her apartment also made her happy. But she was in such a good mood that she wanted to celebrate it. She hadn’t felt
this good, since being turned into a lycan. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be happy again. She wasn’t sure she was happy or even accepted herself as a lycan yet, but she knew she did enjoy feeling good as opposed to feeling sad, depressed and angry for the past three months.
So she was relishing her own self, just for a short while and that meant, exploring her surroundings. She wasn’t a New York native and she wanted to know more of it than her own neighbourhood in China Town. She wasn’t really paying any attention to where her feet where leading her, she just felt happy to be a part of the world at large. Most of the time she avoided the world and it let her, it ran and operated around her. Tatum Lee’s significance in it, was not needed. That was what the small voice inside of her had been saying for the past few months. But now, that voice, was quiet.
And it was all because of Wiatt. Tatum smiled wider again. She would have to cook him dinner. Maybe buy a fantastically huge steak. Tatum started mentally cataloguing a list of ingredients for their dinner that night and planning how long it would take to cook it all.
“Do I even have dinner plates?” She rounded a corner and was walking down the sidewalk pondering if she should also upgrade her glasses to actual wine glasses for the purpose of a proper meal, when she noticed the group of males across the street. Well, one in particular. He was un-missable, because he was tall and gorgeous and he was the kind of guy who just attracted, female attention. Wiatt D’arenberg was talking to a woman and a very blonde haired male, whilst a younger male seemed to hover in the background, back from them.
Tatum smiled to herself, thinking what a coincidence it was that she would see Wiatt on her travels, when she wasn’t anywhere near his neighbourhood. She turned to face the group and had barely got two steps in their direction when a large framed man in a black shirt with embroiled roses on the chest, stepped into her view and blocked her. He was huge looking. He made Tatum feel rather dwarfed by comparison.
Wolves Page 9
