by Alexis Davie
She stepped into the sunlight and wandered around the side of the house, taking deep breaths to steady her frayed nerves. As she sipped on her wine, she tried to take in every aspect of the glorious sight before her, a feeling of melancholy sweeping through her body.
Who knew when she might return to this paradise again?
MJ caught a blur of movement through her peripheral vision, letting out a startled gasp. She whirled to confront the object, her heart catching in her throat.
A black beast stood five feet away from her, his grey-green eyes shimmering as he bared his teeth, though no sound came from his open mouth.
Instead of fear, though, an elated excitement filled MJ’s bones as she watched his jowls lower.
Is this a wolf in the middle of a vineyard in Italy? she thought, awe possessing her.
Without thinking, she extended her hand, stepping forward to allow the animal to sniff her.
Tentatively, she covered the distance between them while the creature stood still, and as she neared him, MJ could see that he was no ordinary wolf: he was much larger, his back muscles protruding from his massive shoulders. When she got closer, the wolf fell back onto his hind legs, as if he were watching her.
There was nothing intimidating about him, despite the way his steely eyes bore into hers, like he was waiting for her to act. Funnily enough, that was the exact same thing MJ was doing.
The Black Wolf.
A shiver slid down MJ’s spine as she remembered Sylvie’s words, as she realized what she was looking at—who she was looking at.
She wasn’t lying, MJ thought, barely holding back a gasp. This is what she meant.
The desire to touch the wolf in front of him was insurmountable, but as MJ reached forward to caress his thick, dark fur, someone behind her let out a scream of terror.
She spun around and saw Dan standing at her back, shrieking in loud, shrill tones before turning to run away, his arms flailing.
Before MJ could turn back around, she was elevated, air rushing by her face.
It took her seconds to comprehend what was happening. Grapevines flew past her face, the back of her dress clamped firmly in the beast’s mouth as he ran to safety with her in his grip.
MJ knew she should be terrified, but she was not. Instead, her excitement only mounted with each step they took. Somehow, despite not a word having been uttered between her and the wolf, she knew what would happen next.
When the beast finally released her inside the musky-smelling shed he had taken her to, far away from the main house, MJ was ready for him.
She rolled over on the floor to face him, but no longer was there a canine giant before her. In his place was a barrel-chested man with smooth olive skin and the same intense eyes as the wolf’s staring at her.
MJ swallowed, staring up at him. “Signore Caruzzi,” she exhaled, although she couldn’t be certain of how she knew that. She had never met him before, after all, though that did not seem to matter.
“I know you,” he told her gruffly, his accent heavy, his voice deep and measured. Caruzzi dropped to his knees to join her on the floor. “I would know you anywhere, but I do not know your name.”
The words made MJ’s heart exhilarate. His words expressed exactly what she felt. She felt an overpowering draw to him, and she knew she needed him, and wanted to feel his body against hers.
“I have finally found my mate,” Caruzzi said as he cupped her face with his warm, strong hands. “Tell me, what is your name?”
“MJ Preston,” she murmured. “My name is MJ Preston.” No longer able to hold herself back, she reached out to him so that she could draw his face to hers.
Caruzzi’s mouth tasted as sweet as the wine he created, and MJ hungrily sucked on his lower lip as if to relish every drop of moisture. Her hands fell into his jet-black mane, yanking him on top of her to feel every curve of his body against hers.
Eagerly, his hands encircled her, slowly slipping the skirt of her askew sundress up around her waist, exposing her bare stomach and thong.
MJ pushed upward against him, feeling a blast of heat course through her as his huge hands sought to explore every curve of her figure, her fingers tweaking and playing thoroughly with his dark curls as his head dropped lower to taste her taut skin.
MJ threw her head back and moaned quietly as Caruzzi’s digits caressed between her thighs, sighing against her skin. She shivered as Caruzzi continued his journey down her stomach and to her center. He gently pulled down the fabric of her thong until MJ was able to kick it down her legs, leaving her already wet core completely exposed.
As his tongue made contact with her throbbing button, MJ bucked upward in pleasure, the slow, velvety licks of his tongue causing a stirring in her belly.
With more fervor, he stroked, his hands grasping her buttocks to draw her further against his face, and MJ cried out, wanting more than just his tongue inside of her.
“Take me,” she begged, propping herself onto her elbows to stare at him imploringly. “Please, I want to feel you inside me.”
Caruzzi returned her gaze, his eyes shining and feral as he pounced upon her, positioning himself against the warmness of her lower lips.
When he entered her, MJ gasped, her breath stolen at the size and force of his erect member, but she could not get enough of it. Never had anyone fit so well inside her, filling her so fully and bringing her to the edge so quickly.
He drove himself inside her, and MJ pulled her legs up to lock her ankles around his waist and bring him closer to her.
Caruzzi let out a cry of pleasure, burying his face into her neck and sucking on the tender skin of her throat as his motions became almost frenzied, thrusting in and out of her with frantic desire.
MJ’s orgasm grew closer with each of his thrusts, and she could feel his shaft expanding inside her, his sack slapping against her rear, hard and ready.
They yelled out their releases in unison, MJ’s nails digging into Caruzzi’s back, clawing at him as he continued to thrust, his juices spilling into her center. He shuddered twice as MJ squeezed herself against him, savoring his almost whimper.
For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of birds chirping beyond the flimsy walls of the shed while MJ tried to reconcile what had just occurred.
Did I just do that? she wondered to herself. Did this… did this really happen?
It all seemed so surreal, yet when her mysterious lover finally tore himself off her body to lie down beside her and peer at her, MJ had no doubts that it had truly happened.
“Are you all right?” Caruzzi asked her, reluctantly removing himself from her, and she nodded eagerly.
“Yes,” MJ whispered. She took a deep breath before speaking again. “Are you… are you a werewolf?”
The thought should have scared her, and if she hadn’t learned about the existence of shifters from Sylvie, she would likely have been more terrified. Instead, she felt at complete ease with the man next her, feeling a supernatural connection to the stranger.
He eyed her for a long moment, and for a second, MJ was worried she had upset him.
“I believe that is the American saying for it, yes,” Caruzzi agreed. “I am from a long line of Lycans. We have roamed this part of Italy for many generations.”
MJ recalled the darkness she had felt when they drove through the laneway toward the villa. Simonetta’s words also reverberated in her mind.
Signore Caruzzi owns this winery. His family has run this land since as long as anyone can remember, and it is the oldest property in Lucca.
“You have a beautiful life here,” she told him wistfully, a great feeling of sadness washing over her.
The thought of leaving Italy, of leaving the winery and of leaving this beast man behind was causing her heart to stab dangerously at her.
Caruzzi leaned against the door and studied her face. “I have almost everything I need,” he agreed.
MJ laughed softly. “What else could you possibly need?”
She gaped at him. “You… you don’t even know me,” she protested, but she could not help thinking about what it would be like to stay with him in the most beautiful place in the world, drinking wine, and making love for all of eternity.
“I know all I need to know. It is not a coincidence that you are here, MJ,” Caruzzi told her quietly. “Of all the wineries and all the tours, you chose mine. There is a reason for that.”
She looked into his face, and she could see he believed what he was saying.
Could it be true? Could I have been fated to come here? Was I drawn to this place because of the Black Wolf?
MJ believed in destiny, and staring into the smouldering eyes of the gorgeous man before her, she wondered why she was second guessing it.
I could go back to my life in Colorado, finish my degree in finance, and continue to meet men like Dan Sopher, she thought to herself. Or I can stay here and have a life beyond my wildest dreams. There is no question.
Sylvie’s words, the ones she hadn’t wanted to believe she had actually heard, echoed in her ears.
The heart wants what the heart wants.
“Will you stay with me, MJ?” Caruzzi asked her, and MJ gulped back the lump of nervousness in her throat, nodding her head.
“Yes,” she whispered. “But only on one condition.”
He arched an eyebrow and waited for her to explain her terms, his swarthy arms wrapping around her to pull her closer.
“What is that?” he asked, a bemused smile touching his lip.
“I would like to know your first name.”
Caruzzi began to laugh, and he cupped her fair cheeks in his large palms, staring deep into her eyes.
“Miguel,” he answered. “My name is Miguel.”
* * *
THE END
9
The Secret
Missy chewed on her nails, a terrible habit she was sure she had forsaken in her early teens. That morning, though, she was uncharacteristically nervous.
“Get your fingers out of your snout,” her older brother Andrew ordered, eyeing her with disgust over his bowl of Cheerios. “That’s just gross, and I’m trying to eat.”
Instantly, Missy removed her hand and peered at him.
“Do you know what Mom and Dad got me for my birthday?” she demanded, staring at him with wide brown eyes.
Andrew ignored her, shoveling another spoonful of cereal into his mouth and glowering in his typically sullen manner.
“Drew!” she yelled, and he looked up lazily at her.
“What?”
Missy swallowed a grunt of exasperation. “What did Mom and Dad get me for my birthday?”
He snorted. “If they didn’t tell you, why should I?” he asked, a small smirk appearing on his face.
“Oh, come on,” she pleaded. “How about a hint?”
“What did they say about it?” Andrew inquired, but Missy knew he was only questioning her to draw out the surprise. It was excruciating, and she wished it was evening already.
In a few more hours, she thought to herself, I’ll know…
For the past three days, she had been waiting with excited anticipation for the “gift that would change everything.”
“What does that mean?” Missy had implored when her mother had first told her those words. “What will it change? What is it? Give me a clue, at least!”
Her parents had only laughed, shrugging their shoulders.
“You’re going to have to wait until your twenty-first birthday,” her father informed her. “And no amount of pleading is going to get you anywhere.”
Missy had tried not to show her displeasure, sensing her parents’ enthusiasm, but the uncertainty of not knowing what they were planning to give her was killing her.
Over the past days, she had slunk around the house, hoping to catch whiffs of conversations pertaining to her impending birthday. Of course, she had learned absolutely nothing.
That was no great surprise to Missy; her family had always been incredibly secretive, as if there was some deep, dark history no one was supposed to know—a history every single member of her family knew. Except for Missy.
It hadn’t been easy growing up in her house, with its silent whispers and the glances over shoulders, and when she had the opportunity to leave Wisconsin for college, Missy had seized it without a second thought.
There was nothing she could pinpoint, nothing specific that made the cheerful brunette leery of her family, but there was… something. If she had known it once, Missy had successfully blocked it out.
Is tonight the night I learn about the family secrets? Do I want to learn them?
She had been both exhilarated and dread-filled as the days passed, but the day was finally there. It was her twenty-first birthday.
“I need you to help me today,” Andrew said unexpectedly.
Missy stared at him. “With what?” she asked, surprised by the declaration. She could not remember the last time her only sibling had ever asked her for help with anything.
“We have to pick up lumber from town.”
Missy’s dark eyebrows knit in confusion. “Nothing you just said made any sense whatsoever,” she told him. “Like, not one word.”
Andrew scowled and glared at her. “We. Have. To. Pick. Up—”
“I’m not deaf, Drew,” Missy snapped. “I just don’t understand why.”
“For the renovations,” he replied, as if she was an idiot. “Why else would we need lumber?”
Missy still didn’t comprehend what her brother was talking about, but she decided not to ask him anything else. He’s such a grouch.
“Go get dressed,” he ordered, and she gaped at him.
“It’s nine o’clock in the morning!” she protested. “We have to go now?”
“Why do you have to make a production out of everything?” Andrew growled. “The earlier we do it, the sooner you can get back to gossiping with your basic sorority sisters online.”
Anger colored Missy’s line of sight. “My friends are not basic,” she snarled, resisting the urge to slap him.
Her brother shrugged his shoulders, a scowl on his face. “Whatever. Go get dressed.”
Fuming, Missy rose from the kitchen table and stormed up the stairs toward her bedroom. No one knew how to push her buttons like her brother.
He’s so miserable all the time, Missy thought furiously, quickly throwing on a halter top and a pair of jeans. But he’s right—the faster we get this done, the faster I can be rid of his sulking face.
To Missy’s surprise, Andrew was already waiting in his truck when she returned back downstairs.
“Hurry up!” he yelled out the window as she poked her head out the front door. “How long does it take you to get ready?”
Missy bit back a scathing reply and joined him in the truck, folding her arms across her chest in defiance. Andrew backed out of the driveway and zoomed down the country road toward the center of town.
They did not speak on the way there, and Missy pretended she was alone in the car.
When I get home, she thought, I’ll have a shower, maybe a nap, too, and then I’ll see who’s around for some birthday drinks tonight.
In truth, she had already texted and told her friends to join her on a birthday celebration, but so few people had gotten back to her that she found it useless to try again.
Everyone’s at the cottage or camping, Missy thought, slightly dejected. She refused to be in a bad mood on her birthday, though. Someone will pan out. And even if they don’t, I’ll probably run into someone I know in town.
The truck pulled up to Grampy’s Lumber, and Andrew parked, jumping from the cab.
Missy made no move.
Her brother spun and stared at her, making a gesture with his hands. He seemed to be asking, What are you doing?
Slowly, Missy opened her door.
“You need
me to come in, too?” she asked, stifling a sigh.
“I didn’t bring you along for the ride,” Andrew retorted. “Come on!”
Missy groaned aloud and followed him inside the store, where Andrew was already talking to Grampy at the counter.
“Oh, lookie! Little Missy is home!” Grampy called happily. “How are you, sweetheart?”
Missy grinned quickly. “Great, Grampy,” she told the man. “Good to see you.”
“Good to see me alive, you mean, dontcha?” he chortled.
“Oh, Grampy,” Missy said, shaking her head, but she could not help smiling and chuckling a little.
“What can I do you for?” Grampy asked. “Not that I don’t welcome a visit from such a handsome pair of siblings.”
Missy’s eyebrows shot up. She glanced at Andrew, who seemed equally perplexed.
“My parents said you had a lumber shipment for us to pick up,” her brother said.
Grampy looked puzzled. He nodded his head and muttered something like, “Let me look.”
Missy could tell that he had no idea of what shipment they were talking about. Sure, Grampy had quite some years going for him, but he wasn’t senile. He always knew what came in and out of his store.
Missy watched as he shuffled through papers, his arthritic hands moving with painfully slow motions.
“When did they make that order, Drew?” Grampy questioned, and Andrew shrugged his shoulders, his brown eyes darkening.
“No idea.”
“Well, you have a seat,” said the old man. “Let me call Bobby.”
Reluctantly, Missy and Andrew turned to sit, and her brother reached for his cell phone only to let out a curse under his breath.
“I left my cell at home.” He turned to her. “Text Mom and Dad. Ask them what’s going on.”
Sighing, Missy obliged, sending out a message to both parents. Fifteen minutes later, Grampy shuffled back out of the rear of the store, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry, kids,” he apologized, “but there’s no order for you here. Are you sure you got the right store?”
The siblings exchanged another look. Missy gazed down at the screen of her phone, willing it to chime with a response from either of her parents, but there was no such luck.