Black Mesa Wolves Complete Series Boxset Bks 1-7

by J. K Harper

  Smells like baking cookies, her human thought. Sara wrinkled her nose a bit and shrugged mentally. Sometimes, her human mentioned things that had little place in the mountain forests or the desert cliffs and buttes. Sara found it best to simply continue racing and leaping and hunting and running, letting her human giggle quietly somewhere in the back of her mind.

  Rafe's scent whipped into her nostrils: sharp and wild, he also smelled like crushed fern and a whiff of aspen bark where he must have rubbed too close to one. She imagined sensible Rafe having an unexpectedly close encounter with a tree and twisting madly to avoid crashing into it. Her tongue lolled out for a moment even as she ran, a grin splitting her jaw. Her canines must have gleamed for a moment, because a short huffing noise somewhere to her left let her know Rafe was nearby and quite aware of her presence.

  Sara always found running an activity that cleared her mind, whether as woman or wolf. Everything else fell away. Worries, thoughts, fears all melted off when she ran, when she exercised her muscles hard. Her mind soothed to a simple mechanism of action and movement.

  Even Rafe briefly left her mind. Air sucked into her lungs, rich spring earth and a mingling of smells both wild and human from the trees and mountains and scattered homes zipped by as scents detected in mere seconds. The promise of renewed life about to burst from the ground invigorated Sara's legs even more. She flowed over the earth in that state of singularity between thought and doing, losing herself for joyous moments as merely a creature peacefully and completely at one with her surroundings and her own simple being.

  This Sara had nothing to prove. This Sara simply lived to run and exist and enjoy this moment.

  Although the hot springs would feel very nice after such a great run, her human thought somewhere deep inside. Her voice sounded a little wistful yet teasing. I wonder how long this run has been?

  Sara snorted softly. Time had no meaning to wolves. Only to humans.

  Someone has to get up in the mornings and show up for duty. Running isn't everything. Her human shrugged, then started picturing the hot springs. Soothing billows of steam rising, deliciously hot water to sink into, Rafe naked and willing in the spring with her....

  Sara took a misstep at the fierce longing in her human's mind. Finally, she was showing some sense.

  A cocked ear and sharp inhale let her know Rafe easily kept up about ten yards away, now to her right and just behind her tail. Slipping through the trees with her, enjoying the run as much as she did. She wondered if he, too, forgot about everything else when he ran.

  Never, her human whispered. He's going to be an alpha. Alphas never forget anything.

  Sara looped around the next tree and began loping back to the hot springs. The lights of people's houses glinted through branches here and there. Sara ignored them and let the smell of the hot water guide her back. All she needed was her nose and her sure feet.

  And maybe a certain wolf.

  4

  Rafe admired Sara's flashing shape ahead of him as they neared the springs again. Small but compact, she was a very well-proportioned wolf. She easily negotiated the terrain of their home, both mountain and desert.

  Glancing up, Rafe took in the massive form of Black Mesa itself rearing high above town, just south of the hot springs. The western edge of the valley signaled the change between mountains and red rock desert, from high elevation pine trees and wildflowers to junipers, sage, buttes and mesas. The Pack den sat near that change, still in the pine trees but close enough to reach the canyon country in a short run. Rafe loved his home with a loyalty born of deep connection with the land and simple enjoyment of its beauties and enormous space.

  We'll be leaving it soon, his human reminded.

  Yes. To start a new pack, as quietly ordered by the Alpha. Rafe had long known he would never lead the Black Mesa Pack. His natural abilities as an alpha were strong enough that his father wanted him to begin a new pack of wolves, much farther north, one that would function fully by itself while still always deferring to the Black Mesa Pack as the dominant one. Strong, healthy packs were necessary to the survival of shifters for generations to come. Rafe's father had long anticipated the need for strengthening their borders to the far north. With his decision to also start a nearby pack led by the rogue—Luke, he forced himself to acknowledge—he knew the Black Mesa Pack would need as much fortification as necessary.

  Not to mention a pack hovering around forty wolves was simply too large. It was time to branch out and let some of the younger wolves make names and traditions for themselves in new packs.

  Sara continued to glide downhill, lightly jumping logs and weaving between the white bark of aspen trees. Rafe wondered how she would take it when he broke the news to her that he would be leaving Black Mesa.

  Hot spring, his human murmured deep in his mind. Warm and nearby.

  Rafe grinned and leaped hard after Sara. Her sleek shape vaulted over the metal fence at the back of the hot springs property. He followed in a single breath.

  They landed on the upper level, next to the hottest pool that beckoned to weary bones. A black plastic cover draped over the top of the small pool. Sara stood and shed her wolf form in a single moment. The ripple of fur over human flesh blended for just that instant, creating something even more primal and feral than the wolf shape. It reminded Rafe, as it always did, that his fellow packmates were capable of so much more than just human action, or just wolf action. They were a unique blend of both, which in itself created a deeper kind of magic—his human side snorted at that term—than any non-shifter on the planet could ever hope to achieve.

  Naked, dappled by shadow and light from the moon above playing hide and seek with the pine branches, Sara stood firm and unselfconscious. She turned her head toward Rafe, watching him shift. He let the change to flow over him more slowly than usual, allowing Sara time to see the process as he merged wolf into man. Controlling the shift was a major advantage of shifter genes. All the bizarre human stories about a full moon forcing a shift, or needing to be chained up during some ravening “werewolf” phase, always made Rafe chuckle. If only they knew.

  Rafe stood on two legs, as unreservedly naked as Sara. His utter awareness of her presence beside him, not to mention the immediacy of the shift, kept his wolf very close to the surface. Her body enticed in human form as much as it did in wolf: small, lithe, with beautiful little breasts perking in the evening chill. He let his gaze wander over the soft curves and defined muscles for a leisurely moment before looking into her eyes.

  To his amusement and satisfaction, Sara blushed. Good. Her awareness of him as a man was evident. He firmly made up his mind to demonstrate to her now, tonight, his equal intent awareness of her.

  “Shall we?” He gestured at the cover on the pool.

  “Yes. Right. Let's,” she said, bustling over to one end of the pool cover to lift it up. Probably also to mask the nervous tone he could hear in her usually confident voice.

  With a quick fling powered by the strength of their shifter genes, they removed the heavy cover. Steam billowed up and drifted into the pines overhead. Not looking at him again, Sara dipped a toe in the water. She sucked in a breath.

  Mine, his wolf growled, low and strong. Mine.

  Yes, Rafe thought. Mine.

  Inch by slow, captivating inch, Sara slid her beautiful body into the water. She emitted little squeaks and gasps as the heated water moved up her skin. Each noise elevated Rafe's eyebrows as well as his interest. He felt his eyes widen a fraction, his pulse speed up, his breath rate increase. Standing utterly still as he watched her, he took in the slow slide as the dark waters caressed her ankles, then her toned calves, then her beautifully muscled yet still feminine legs. As she carefully sank lower and lower, the water swirled and curved toward her inner thighs and the inviting shadow at their crux.

  Damn, how he wanted to stroke her right there with his tongue.

  “Wow, this is crazy hot,” Sara said, her voice a strangled gasp.

 
; “It sure is.” Rafe eyed her, letting the frank appreciation come out in his tone.

  Sara's back stiffened and she turned her head toward him. Her mouth was a small “o” of surprise. Rafe's imaginings of what he could do with that sweet, luscious mouth increased the tightening in his groin and the stirring in his blood.

  “I mean—the water. It's hot. Really hot,” Sara said.

  Rafe's eyes caught the darkening of her fair skin as more blushing marched across her face, half hidden by blonde strands. It was so unlike the usually straightforward, fun-loving wolf she presented to the world. Knowing it was all for him, that he was the one causing her word babbling and skin flushing, only further bolstered his sense of masculinity. Sara was easygoing and fun-loving. He knew perfectly well she liked to bar-hop in town sometimes, picking up local human cowboys for a little playtime. Despite the fact it made him clench his jaw every time she'd come back to the pack den smelling of another male, he'd never held it against her. She was a wolf, only doing what came naturally.

  But he'd sure gotten damn tired of waiting for her to realize he was the best wolf for her. The only one.

  “Coming in,” he said as warning. Slowly, silently despite the breathtaking heat that almost sizzled his bare skin, Rafe stepped into the pool with Sara.

  * * *

  Sara practically stopped breathing when Rafe entered the water next to her. She'd seen him naked hundreds of times in her life. Probably thousands. She'd dropped her clothes in front of him a scant hour ago in the parking lot and barely batted an eye. Being naked was as natural to a shifter as breathing, or hunting.

  Apparently, it was a very different situation if a wolf was really interested in another wolf, and when that interest was at a high point after their run together. Because this whole being flustered thing was not Sara's style. Not at all. She knew what she liked, she went for it, she got it, she moved on. Easy peasy, no one got hurt, have a little fun and keep on going. No one in the pack would ever expect her to get serious about a guy anytime soon. Well, Lily seemed to think so, but that was just Lily being a good friend. Sara wasn't the daughter of an alpha, nor did anyone expect her to ever be a top ranking Guardian.

  Unless, of course, she could convince everyone otherwise.

  Including Rafe. Who was a top ranking Guardian, not to mention eldest son of the Alpha and therefore in line to be Alpha himself, one day.

  Sara dropped the rest of her body into the pool, hissing as the delicious heat completely enveloped her. Pushing off the wall with her feet, she propelled herself to the other side. It was only five feet across, but being as far away from Rafe as possible suddenly seemed wise. She pressed her back against the far wall and eyed him and his small but distinct grin with wariness.

  Because, holy smokes, her hormones were revved up. All she could envision was how they'd tangled the sheets back then, twisting and turning and burning. He'd been pretty spectacular. Okay, they'd been pretty spectacular, together. In bed spectacular.

  Rafe lounged back against the wall on the other side of the hot pool. Even relaxed, he still exuded an authoritative air. That little grin tugging at his molded lips softened his gorgeous yet stern features somewhat. Either way, there was no mistaking his confident, self-aware presence.

  “Um.” Well, that was a great opener. “That was a good run. Thanks for going with me.”

  Rafe studied her for a minute. She squirmed under the dark intensity of his gaze. Squirming heated things up on the inside, which was a sensation Sara was quite familiar with. With Rafe, it meant trouble.

  Her wolf rolled in Sara's mind and sent enticing images of Rafe's big, strong maleness. As if Sara might forget.

  Rafe abruptly reached out a finger and flicked water at Sara. Startled, she emitted a really girly squeal of indignation.

  “Hey!”

  A full smiled lazed its way across Rafe's face. A shaft of moonlight lit up one eye, one cheek, and cut gently across his mesmerizing lips.

  Sara's wolf rolled in ecstasy at her human's fixation on Rafe. Sara thought the word finally might be drifting through her mind, but she wasn't sure.

  “Just being playful, Sara. Contrary to popular opinion, I do know how to relax and enjoy myself.” His deep tones sent a shiver across her body.

  “Getting me wet is how you enjoy yourself?”

  Even as the words left her mouth, Sara wished she could clamp down on them. Or maybe just die of pure embarrassment. Sara the flirt and Sara the anxious were clearly at odds with themselves.

  Her wolf cocked a confused ear at the thought of more than one Sara roaming around.

  Rafe's smile vanished into a study of laser intent. The look on his face hovered between almost unbearably hard and—utterly captivated. The dark blond tousle of hair, kept short but not severely so, framed his magnetic face. Sara found herself staring at him as if she'd never seen him before.

  A long pause held them still. The faint rustle of a breeze sneaking through the pine branches also riffled through the hair on Sara's neck. It felt like the caress of fingers. Rafe's fingers.

  Rafe kept staring back at her in a very predatory way. A sexually predatory way. One that her wolf welcomed.

  “Yes,” he finally said, simply. “I did enjoy that. Very much. And I'd like it to happen again.”

  5

  Rafe felt himself begin to harden the longer Sara looked at him. All the blood seemed to rush to his cock, which stirred in anticipation of finally, finally claiming this wolf as his. He'd said it out loud and made his intention clear. It was up to Sara, though, to take hold of the offer he'd just delivered. He wanted her to want this moment. He needed her to want it.

  Her golden hair waved loosely around her face on the right side. She'd tucked it behind her ear on the left side, which accentuated her fine cheekbones, generous mouth, and pretty eyes. The usual quick smile had left, however, replaced by a serious gaze that went straight to his core. This wasn't Sara the playful little wolf. This was Sara the lover, the woman he'd been allowed to touch and know and catch fire with so many long months ago.

  The one who now looked at him with a hunger that seemed to match his own. He'd been right to let her know he still wanted her. Her wolf shone from her eyes, and the scent of her attraction spun with undeniable temptation through the air between them. She was ready for him. Sara was ready for his touch again, ready to open to him.

  He wouldn't screw it up again. This time, he'd keep hold of her.

  Slowly, Rafe pushed himself away from the edge of the pool and moved through the water toward her. Sara's eyes stayed locked on his face. Huge in the moonlight, they stared at him without a trace of either flirtatious playfulness or the unusually flustered state she'd been in earlier. Carefully but without pause, Rafe came closer.

  Sara's breath hitched when he was about five inches away. Despite the almost stupefying heat of the water, he could still sense her own primal heat radiating out toward him as pure desire. It beckoned him, as did the clear invitation her wolf showed in her eyes. Water droplets shone on her ripe mouth from where he'd splashed her. He reached out a finger and gently rubbed the tiny beads of moisture into her lips.

  This time, her breath inhaled on a ragged gasp. Her mouth opened a bit. Rafe could see her teeth gleam slightly, her tongue slipping between them to taste his finger.

  Rafe groaned and let the rigid control fall away.

  “Sara,” he said. His voice sounded rough with need to his own ears but he didn't care. All he cared about was touching her, kissing her, taking her.

  Her lips still parted, Sara's head tipped up toward his. Rafe didn't waste another second. He swiftly placed his hands on the blunt cement edges of the pool behind her, effectively caging her into his arms. Without pause, Sara's hands immediately rose to capture the back of his neck, her fingers brushing the nape of his hair and trailing in a deliciously wanton motion over the top of his spine. Rafe went fully rock hard in about a nano second.

  Mine, his wolf growled in approva
l.

  The blue of their eyes still held one another as Rafe surged toward her and claimed her mouth with his. Her lips moved beneath his in that same way he recalled so exactly: soft, eager, tasting so uniquely of Sara. Sweet strawberries blended with a dash of spice and excitement. Rafe groaned again against her. The sound vibrated through her lips and back to him, which only heightened his anticipation.

  His hands clenched into fists on the wall behind her. She pulled his head closer to her, as if she wanted him to devour her. Their breath mingled with the steam of the spring and rose into the crisp air. Rafe could feel Sara's heartbeat against his chest where her luscious breasts pressed hard into him. The pulse in her neck leapt when he drifted his fingers over it.

  Sara pulled back for an instant. Her eyes were still open, languid and dark with her sheer lust. Rafe felt such an overwhelming surge of pure male pride at the thought he'd created that reaction in her he almost physically felt his chest swell. Possibly ridiculous, but true.

  Her lips were fuller from his ravaging kiss, tender and plump. He angled his head the fraction of an inch it took to reach her and nibbled at her bottom lip with his teeth.

  “Ohhh,” she said. The sound was more breath than word. It stole Rafe's own breath as he pressed closer to her. Her entire naked body felt pliable next to his.

  Rafe kissed her again, long and hard and with serious intention. He let his tongue press into her mouth, past her lips, letting it slide in and out in a rapid, deliberate motion. The simple kiss made the rest of his body feel as if it might harden beyond belief, then crack into intoxicating bliss.