Powerless

by Catherine Johnson

  It’s so intimate, we’re so close, so hot, panting in between kisses; and then it’s too much. My back arches with the force of my climax, but he’s still holding my head, kissing me, forcing me to call out my orgasm into his mouth. My body starts to relax, until I realise that he’s still moving, still rocking in and out of my body, and that he hasn’t come yet.

  “Lass, I told you tae get yourself intae bed. Looks like I’m goin’ tae have tae take you there myself.” He rasps.

  I’m past forming coherent words, so I nod. I tighten my legs around his waist as he takes hold of me around my hips and lifts me off the counter, still inside me. I flex my hips once or twice before uncrossing my ankles so that I can slide down his body. It means that he has to slip out of me, but we’ll make it to the bedroom much quicker. I’m about to set off in that general direction when Callum pulls me back.

  “Fuckin’ hell, lass. Walkin’ around lookin’ like that. I cannae think straight.”

  He turns me around and gently, but firmly, pushes me forward over the counter. I brace myself on my forearms as I feel him move behind me. This time he does pull my thong down, until I’m able to step out of it. I’m expecting him to stand as soon as I’ve kicked it off, but he doesn’t. He positions my hips a little more conveniently, and then I feel his mouth on me.

  Again, I can’t move because of the hold he has on my hips. It’s frustrating in a way that’s not frustrating at all. It isn’t long though before he does stand and sheaths himself inside me again. It feels like his hands are everywhere, smoothing from my waist, over my ribs, over my breasts, until he can cup them and play with my nipples through the lace. The sensation is tantalising, but it’s nothing compared to the feel of him slamming into me harder, deeper, faster. The thought of him losing control tips me over the edge, until we’re both yelling so loudly that I wouldn’t be surprised if our neighbours made a complaint.

  He leans forward and relaxes over my back, still inside me, twitching occasionally in a way that makes me gasp out odd, helpless little moans. His body is a comforting weight as he’s taking care not to crush me. He’s nuzzling the back of my neck, murmuring alternately between terms of endearment and pure filth about what he’s going to do with me next. Extending the day a little was definitely worth the effort.

  Chapter Thirty Two

  It’s amazing to feel the pack come together now. The atmosphere is so unbelievably different from what it was a few months ago. There’s laughter and chatting whilst everyone’s gathering, and there’s playfulness whilst we’re running. It’s something to look forward now, rather than something that has to be endured, made time for, before we can get back to our everyday lives. It’s not that I’ve ever particularly minded being a werewolf, although it does complicate life sometimes. I’ve always enjoyed running in my own way, and I’ve always enjoyed the feeling of strength and freedom that I felt personally whenever I’ve been able to spend time on four paws; but being with the pack has never meant this much to me before. I never knew what I was missing. Now I pity those people who don’t have this, who’ve never known what it’s like to have this energy around them.

  Last night was amazing. I thought the run after we’d taken care of Daniel and Bryn had been amazing, but that was more like the euphoria you feel after a traumatic event, that weird giddy high that you feel once you stop shaking when you’ve had a near miss on the motorway or some other close shave. This was different. There was a complete sense of freedom and a deep sense of connection that was, for want of a better word, cosy. We all felt it, felt part of the world; living, breathing animals, under the warmth of the moon, the verdant earth beneath our paws with the wind howling around us. It’s only before and after the change that the gusts felt like they were straight from Siberia. Whilst we were running, they were a welcome breeze bringing us the scents of the moor and the villages beyond. The wind carried the musk of the sheep, cows and horses from nearby farms, the pungent aroma of coal fires from some of the houses in the surrounding villages and the tang of fuel from the vehicles traversing the roads.

  Since the boys are in school today, and we’re all taking time from work to catch up on our sleep, Donna is here for a chat and a brew whilst Callum and Michael go and stock up on the booze for Christmas and New Year’s Eve. I’m not sure about the wisdom of leaving the two of them to do that on their own. They’re probably going to bring back a small brewery’s worth of alcohol.

  “Donna, what’s up? You seem a bit...off.” I have to ask outright. She’s been starting to say something and then stopping since she got here and it’s driving me nuts.

  “Becca, I hate to do this to you, I really do, but I can’t help thinking about the way the pack were acting last night.”

  “What are you taking about? It felt great. Everyone seemed to be having the time of their lives.” I didn’t expect her to be worried about the pack. I can’t understand her concern, everything felt so natural, like a huge furry family.

  “Didn’t you think they were a bit more, well, nuzzley, than usual?”

  “Yeah, but that’s normal right? Now that the pack’s more bonded?” I’m really not sure what point she’s trying to make.

  Donna just tips her head to one side and looks at me. “Bex, when was the last time you came on?”

  That’s a subject out of the blue. I’m about to tell her so, but when I consider what the answer might be, when I think about the last time I had a period, it was.... it was... oh shit! Sometime before the October full moon and we’re in December now. Donna sees the realisation dawning on my face.

  “Thought so. Time for you to pee on a stick, love.”

  Easy for her to say. “Donna it’s not like I have them in stock.”

  “I know. That’s why I brought one over for you.”

  She’s prepared for this then. She fishes around in her handbag and then hands me a package, a supermarket bag all wrapped up around a small box. I take it like it’s a ticking bomb.

  “Go on, let’s find out. There’s no point stressing until you see what it says.”

  “Yeah, but you seem pretty certain that you know what the answer’s going to be. I hope to God Michael didn’t see you buy this.”

  She just shrugs. “Go. Pee.”

  I come out of the bathroom a few undignified minutes later. It has to be a man that designed these things. “The instructions say to wait two minutes.”

  “Okay. Kettle’s on. Just leave it on the side.”

  I put it down on the counter, capped and laid flat as per the instructions, and stuff the little paper leaflet back into the box. I have to love that Donna got one of the ones that actually spells it out for you. No messing around looking at lines, this one’s going to tell me outright, and by how many weeks. It’s hard not to keep glancing at it, sat there so innocuously. I feel a little numb at the moment. I keep repeating the mantra ‘cross that bridge, cross that bridge’, over and over in my mind.

  Donna finishes stirring the milk in and drops the teaspoon into the sink. “Are you going to look? Or do you want me to do it for you?”

  “No. I need to do it.” I want to wimp out, but potentially I’m going to have to be brave about a lot more than just reading this result. I reach out for the piece of chunky, white plastic. Oh.... definitely Oh.

  “Bex?”

  “It’s positive.” I say numbly.

  “Let’s have a scan?”

  I hand it to her. She takes a quick look and then shuffles the instructions out of the box.

  “Bex, you’re going to need to get booked in with the doctor, love. This is saying three weeks plus, which means more than five weeks as far as your doctor will count it.”

  I find my phone and take a quick look at the calendar on it. What I count up does not improve the numbness. “We could be talking as many as nine.”

  “Haven’t you felt sick or tired at all?” Donna seems genuinely confused that I couldn’t have realised anything was different for so long.

  �
�No, I haven’t felt sick. Tired? Who knows? It’s been a mad few weeks. Who wouldn’t be tired after the last couple of months?”

  “True. No wonder you lost track of time. Lucky cow. I was sick as a dog with the boys.”

  The numbness is beginning to wear off, but I can’t really define what’s replacing it, a lot of things, I think.

  “Donna. How the fuck do I tell Callum about this? We haven’t even discussed kids.”

  “Well, now would be a good time don’t you think? Becca, don’t you want this?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it before. I mean, it’s not like I always had mad ambitions to be a career woman who would never have kids, and it just sort of never crossed by mind when I was with Rob, since I knew it wasn’t going to happen with him.”

  “Bex, Callum adores our boys and he adores you. I don’t think he’s going to be unhappy about this.”

  “No. I don’t think he is either.” The thought of his reaction doesn’t help me sort through the multitude of emotions spinning around right now.

  “Bex, I know you’re supposed to be a responsible adult an all, but you and Callum have played safe, right?”

  I can’t help but blush as I have to admit, “No, not even once.”

  In truth, contraception never even crossed my mind. Rob and I had always used condoms, so I had never been on the Pill, and well, Callum and I, just sort of happened. There’s always just this need to be together, to be naked together, to be as close as possible. Everything else, common sense included apparently, flies out of the window. I wonder if that’s a side effect of the mate bond, or my own sheer carelessness in the midst of lust.

  “They’re due back any minute. Do you want me to stick around?”

  “No I better tell him on my own. I put the box in the bin and bring the test will me as we settle on the sofa to drink our tea; but I’m just staring out of the window, barely even seeing the blustery day beyond. No matter which way around I think about this, it’s scary, really fucking scary, but I can’t say it’s a bad thing.

  I try to visualise Callum playing with a baby, our baby, making it laugh by tickling it with his beard. I see him chasing a toddler around like he chases Donna’s boys. I remember that morning we spent in the park and how much effort he put in to making sure the boys had fun. I know there’s going to be sleepless nights and stinky nappies, after all, I was around for a lot of that when Donna first had the twins, but none of that seems to be important as the vision of Callum holding a tiny hand in his own. I keep glancing at the test just to make sure that it’s really real. A part of me is so scared that I’ll look down and find that it says ‘not pregnant’ and the dream will disappear.

  I almost jump off the sofa when the silence is broken by the boys pretty much falling through the door, laughing and joking and carrying obscenely large boxes of cans. They put them down by the counter without acknowledging us and head back out to the car, obviously to get another load.

  “This is why I hated to do this, Becca. All that booze they’ve just bought is off limits to you now.”

  Arse biscuits. “That’s just not fair!” I grumble. I’d been looking forward to a pretty tipsy festive season.

  “Yeah, yeah. Suck it up buttercup.” She says grinning.

  The boys come back in with at least as big a load again. I’m mildly concerned that there’s an equal amount sat in Michael’s car waiting to be unloaded at their house.

  “You ready, Donna?” I didn’t expect them to stick around with the prospect of the house to themselves, so I’m not offended by Michael’s attempt to make a quick exit.

  “Yeah. Do you have that much for our house?”

  “Yep.” Oh lord, both him and Callum are grinning like children who found out which cupboard the chocolate biscuits were kept in.

  Donna shakes her head sternly, but I can see that she’s smiling. “For fuck’s sake, Mike. We’ve both got shifts over Christmas.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll manage. Plus, Cooper’ll help out.”

  “I’d forgotten about that.” She mutters in a resigned tone as she stands. “We might actually need to get some more. See you Bex. Text me later yeah?”

  “Of course.” I nod.

  Donna gives me a quick kiss on my forehead and squeezes my shoulder to show her support before she leaves with Michael.

  I’m alone with Callum, and to be honest, for the first time, I’m at a bit of a loss for what to say. I fall back on the stalwart stalling question of all Northerners.

  “Brew?”

  “Aye, that’d be grand. It’s colder than a witch’s tit out there.”

  I’m trying to figure out how to tell him, how to say it without sounding like a bad storyline in a soap opera, as I get the mugs and the teabags out; but I just can’t figure out how to word it without just blurting it out.

  “Lass? What’s this?” There’s surprise in his voice.

  Oh shit. I’d forgotten that I’d left the test on the arm of the sofa. I take a deep breath, abandon the kettle, and head over.

  “Callum...”

  “Is this what I think it is? What this means?”

  There’s no avoiding it now. “Yep. It does. You’re going to be a daddy.”

  He isn’t smiling, just looking at me as I stand at the other end of the sofa. I’m not sure that I dare get any closer until I know what his reaction is, but I’m beginning to be a little freaked out by his lack of excitement. I’m trying to keep my own face blank until I know how he feels about this.

  “Aren’t you happy?” I’m so worried that he’s going to hate the idea, really hate it, that I’ve managed to put up some walls in our bond.

  “Aye, I am, but I want tae know if you are.”

  “Yes, yes I am.” I’m not lying. Looking at him, imagining him holding our child, playing with it; I can’t be anything but. I may not be jumping up and down waving pom poms, but that has a lot to do with still trying to come to terms with the idea, it is a bit of a life-changer.

  “Sweetheart.” He throws the test carelessly onto the sofa and pulls me into his chest.

  “You’re not angry about this? It’s sort of all of a sudden.” I mumble into his shoulder.

  “No lass.” He pauses to kiss the top of my head. “No’ at all. Jesus, I couldnae be happier.”

  He pulls back a little, a huge smile across his face, and puts his palm on my stomach. It’s warm, and it makes me feel a little weird, different, like there is something else going on in there. I can feel the warmth of his touch in places I swear I’ve never felt it before. When he looks at me I realise his eyes are shining. I kiss him. I feel the bond surge back between us and I can feel how happy he is. Happy, overjoyed, thrilled; those words are too tame to describe what I can feel pouring from him. I know this is going to be big. Life is never going to be the same again, but we’ll be together, we’ll face this together, build this new life together, the three of us.

  “Callum?”

  “Aye, lass?”

  “What are the chances of it being twins?”

  Epilogue

  She’s perfect.

  I know there’s tears on ma cheeks, but I doona care. I’m no’ lettin’ go o’ this little bundle tae wipe them, I’m no’ letting go o’ her ever.

  “Do we have a name yet?” I hear the midwife ask from the edge o’ ma consciousness. My attention is wholly devoted tae the little girl lyn’ quietly in ma arms.

  “Yes.” Becca replies. “Isabelle, Isabelle Rose.”

  “Oh that’s lovely. I’ll give you a couple more minutes and then we’ll get you up to the ward and you can have a brew and some toast.”

  I’m so proud o’ Becca, o’ ma mate. So fuckin’ proud o’ her. She didn’t scream, just got on with it. For twelve hours she was a warrior. She let out some unholy soundin’ noises at the end, but you wouldnae have known if you were stood outside the door that anythin’ was goin’ on inside. I felt so useless. All the words o’ encouragement I could offer fel
t empty. I’d’ve done anythin’ tae take the pain from her, even though she insisted she was fine with the gas and air, that she didnae need anythin’ else.

  When it came tae the actual pushin’, I felt even worse; seein’ the size o’ the thing she was forcin’ from her body. When I think about how she carried this wee thing for all those months, nurtured it, kept it safe, I feel about ready tae burst. I cannae describe how much I love ma lass, and how much love I have for this wee one. She’s goin’ tae be one on her own this one. I hope tae God she takes after her mother more than me. There’s always a higher than average chance o’ havin’ twins in werewolf pairings, but I’m glad we’ve just got this little lass on her own. I already know I’m no’ goin’ tae be able to stop myself from givin’ in tae her every whim.