The Wildflower Series

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The Wildflower Series Page 9

by Rachelle Mills


  “Clayton, what just happened?” Kimberly sounds as confused as I feel.

  “I need to go.” That’s all he says, turning the handle and walking out of my office. He looks as if nothing just happened, except to me he’s ruffled up.

  Dallas is there just outside his office eyeing Clayton up and down, posturing to him his outward dislike. Clayton stops just shy of him, looking around the waiting room, little pups all on their mother’s laps or shoulders. He inhales again before walking out the front door.

  Kimberly steps out from behind me, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. She’s looking very uncomfortable.

  “Next time, leave him home, or I’ll pick you up from school, okay?” She just nods her head.

  “Kimberly, listen. I want you coming to see me every week now. Just to make sure you’re on the right track. If you don’t start gaining weight, I’m going to start to eat all your meals with you, even at your school, so I suggest you start doing what you’re told. I also will be speaking to your mother about this.”

  “I’ll start eating more, I promise, but did you just see that?” Her excited voice hurts my ears.

  “Yes.” That’s all I’m going to say about that.

  “I need to text my mom.” She pulls out her phone, and her fingers work at warp speed, sending the gossip out. I can’t even stop her, she’s so quick.

  “I’ll see you next week,” I say, giving her a stern warning.

  Finishing up after, I clean everything that needs cleaning. The clinic is empty now. They close early on Fridays.

  Knocking on Aurora’s office, I wait for her to answer. Dr. Valentine’s door is still wide open.

  “Come in, Rya.”

  “Aurora, I was just wondering—I know it’s short notice—but I was wondering if you weren’t doing anything tonight, would you like to go out for dinner with me?” I try to act casual, as it’s the first time I have ever asked a friend out to dinner.

  “I can’t, babysitting the grandkids tonight.” She’s busy putting away files into the cabinet.

  “Have fun. I was just thinking of grabbing something quick anyway. I have a lot of painting to do this weekend. See you Monday. Have fun tonight, Aurora.”

  “Have fun painting, Rya.”

  Walking away, I grab my purse from my office and shut the door behind me. I keep my head down as I get into my car. It’s a quiet drive home, no music…I don’t feel like listening to anything.

  After the first coat of paint is applied to the walls in my bedroom, I stand back, looking at the color. I think agreeable grey is perfect. Ordering my dinner from the restaurant twenty minutes down the road, I clean the splatters of paint off my cheeks and arms, trying to make myself look halfway presentable.

  The place is packed with people out having a fun Friday night. All the tables are full. As I make my way toward the bar for my pick up, I notice Dr. Valentine with a few pack members having drinks and eating wings. I’m not sure if he notices me or not; it doesn’t seem that he does. He’s giving the female beside him such a sinfully attractive smile that I have to swallow down the growl that wants to bubble up. The female’s trying to feel his hair. Grabbing her hand, he shakes his head no at her. His buddies are talking to the other cute females at the table. I just have to tell myself it was just a kiss.

  He looks up, catching me watching him. Turning away, I try to hide my embarrassment while waiting for my white Styrofoam container that’s my dining partner tonight. At least I don’t have to do dishes. Looking into the mirror behind the bar, I can see that Clayton is here with his sister. It’s just the two of them, plates of food on the table. They’re laughing together. He looks like he’s teasing her, poking her shoulder with his finger. She tries to text something, and he grabs her phone away, putting it beside him. It’s nice to watch them until he looks up and I have to look away.

  Finally, the food’s ready. Taking my single container, I walk out with as much dignity as a female on a Friday night alone can have.

  After finishing the food and the rest of the painting, it’s time for me to get comfortable.

  An enchantment sets in, lighting the fire for the first time in my home. I can picture many nights snuggling by the fireplace, being lulled by the crackles and flickers of the flame. I bring my duvet out, laying it just a few feet away from the dancing light. Brushing my hair out from my shower, I let the heat dry it while sipping a glass of a red.

  Dr. Valentine finds me sitting cross-legged on the floor, getting drunk in my underwear and shirt. He just opens the door like he belongs here with me. He stares at me on the floor.

  “Let the pain begin.” He says this to himself. Stepping closer, his eyes meet mine, with a sultry hunger no longer veiled. He’s looking at me like he knows exactly what he wants and he’s going to take it.

  Chapter 11

  First Steps

  Exhale…

  That’s what I do when he closes the door behind him.

  Inhale…

  That’s what I do when he takes that first step toward me.

  “Why are you here?” His eyes reflect the orange flames from the fire.

  He takes another step toward me. He looks like silence, quiet, calm…before the storm.

  He takes another step without hesitance, and his shadow decides to fall over me. Can you feel shadows? At this moment, I think I can.

  Heat from the fire is warm on the outside of my skin. Inside…I’m starting to blaze up.

  “I had to come.” The low timbre of his voice plays across my ears. It’s sexy, making my heart start to double-dutch. He looks at me, eyes trailing down, starting with my face, working down to my chest…I’m not cold, but he’ll notice the way I’m poking against the material of my shirt. They’re achingly hard, needing touch. He’s eliciting need.

  He licks his teeth. This wolf excites me. My body slightly rocks back and forth, a small pressure deep inside starting to make its presence known. I can smell me, veins dilating, pheromones seeping out of open pores, calling out to the male how willing I am. No force needed on his part.

  “You have no idea what you look like at this moment.” He can barely get the words out; they sound deep with the thickness of a male whose throat is tightening with his own need.

  He looks at my crossed legs until he focuses on the little silky material that covers up my female virtue. Is there a wet spot yet? Because right now, I feel as if there could be. He’s looking at me as if I am some kind of masterpiece that needs to be revered. He pulls his gaze away, only to look back down once more between the opening of my legs. A rumble deep inside him shakes me slightly. Male wolves are so visual. He sniffs the air. A few more strides and he’s directly in front of me.

  He’s of a marvelous design, no delusions to cloud my judgment.

  Taking the wine glass out of my hand, he stretches himself away from me as he puts it down far away from us, as if he’s afraid it might spill.

  “I know where this will lead in the end. I know how this will turn out for me.” He’s looking at my eyes again, searching for something.

  “Then why come?” My voice is low, barely above a whisper. His fingers are in my hair, pulling and twisting it in his grip. He pulls down slightly, and my lips are raised to him.

  “Because there might be a chance that it doesn’t go how I think it will. I have to take that chance, no matter how small I think it is.” He pulls down more on my hair, angling my head so my whole throat is exposed to him. Starting on my jaw line, he traces it with his tongue. Nibbling at my earlobe, he pulls it into his mouth and sucks at it, teeth nipping slightly.

  He sighs. Better still, a small little moan escapes his parted lips as he kisses down my neck. Teeth just barely graze my collarbone. His palm is just below the curve of my hips, thumb resting on the band of my underwear. Fingers grip the soft flesh, leaving an imprint that he is here. He smells of a sensual spice. I can feel his breath all over my skin.

  He’s on my mouth, kissing me at the sam
e time he pushes me down into that crimson duvet. I’m on a cloud, and my sun is on top of me.

  Tracing the outline of my lips with his tongue, he sucks in my bottom lip for just a second before he releases it. He’s looking down at me, just staring.

  I’m melting.

  His hand starts to roam underneath my shirt while he gazes at me, watching me. I never knew how good fingers could feel against my ribcage. Can he feel me shudder underneath his touch?

  My skin tingles with the path he’s taking, legs weak and spread wide for him to rub himself against. If I didn’t have a damp spot before, I do now. I’m saturating the material that barely covers me.

  Moaning when he applies more pressure against me, I wrap my legs around his calves. I meet his thrust through clothes. Deep pressure starts to make itself known to me, and I want to just stay like this, rubbing up against him while he touches my chest, kisses my lips.

  The wolf in me surfaces slightly with a growl of approval. She likes this male wolf. She likes his advances. My muscles grow tighter with a need to shift, and claws swipe against his shirt, tearing the material easily. I smell his blood; I went a little too deep. That brings his face to mine, his wolf ascending slightly, looking at me. He sniffs against my cheek, a hot puff of breath as he stills on top of me. His hardness is between my legs. He doesn’t pull away from my core.

  Now his hand is on my thigh, slowly going up. I suck in a big breath. I have never had a male so close.

  Dipping his head close to my ear, he asks, “Do you want me to stop?” I hesitate. Do I want him to stop?

  “I don’t know.” It’s best to stick with the truth.

  He angles himself to the side of me, still pressed close, but not between my legs anymore.

  “We need to stop until you can say ‘don’t stop.’” His finger traces my lips, my eyelids, my nose.

  “Let’s talk, okay?” Standing, he gets up from his spot, looks in my cupboards, and pulls out a glass. He pours himself some red. He picks up my wine glass from the floor and hands it to me as I sit upright once again.

  The fire is casting soft light in the darkened room. His face glows from the flames.

  He takes a drink from his glass, licking his lips after.

  “I never expected this…you. I never expected to feel so much for a female again.” He looks into the fire. Are memories playing on his mind?

  “I feel guilty for this.” He closes his eyes, a heart pain trying to bubble up.

  “I understand.” My shoulders hunch slightly forward.

  “Rya, I want to be here with you. I think she would want this.” His jaw clenches slightly, and he closes his eyes. A quiet descends as we both stare at the flames consuming the logs breaking and eating away at them until only ash will be left.

  “I couldn’t believe when I saw you that first day. I thought you were going to be a female who wasn’t very pleasing to the eyes, that somehow was defective. How could a mate be rejected? It must be because they are not worthy. The way the pack talked about you, I was worried you really shouldn’t be a midwife.” His words make my stomach clench with what everyone must think of me.

  Ugly, unworthy, defective.

  “I even went to the Luna of this pack and stated my concerns. She just asked me to give you a chance, if I felt that you were unsafe in any way, she would pull you from your duties, but that you just needed a chance to prove yourself.” He’s still looking into the hypnotizing flames. He finishes his glass before I take a second sip. He places his glass close to the fireplace.

  “When I came into the clinic that day, I knew instantly that everything I heard about you was lies. How can someone blessed with the moon’s eyes be anything but beautiful inside and out? So I watched you with those females, and I began to understand how truly special and overlooked you are.” Sipping the red wine, I look at its color. It could pass for shades when falling in love or shades of rage…

  “I’m still having a hard time trying to understand what happened to you. How could they all not see you?” This is some of the most hurtful, nicest truths I have ever heard.

  “Clayton came to my house the night after I told you to lock your door. He was waiting for me. The look in his eyes was that of a male wanting to kill his competition. It was him and me, no witnesses. I was ready for him. I knew he’d come. I could smell his scent all over your house when I left.” Dallas gets up, turning me so I’m facing the fire. He’s behind me. His hands start to massage my shoulders over my shirt. It’s relaxing the tension that I feel.

  “He doesn’t want you, Rya, but he doesn’t want any other male to have you, either.” This enrages me. He’s ruined my past, and now he’s tampering with my future.

  “When he said that, I don’t know what happened…I just attacked him. I wanted him to hurt the way you’re hurting. So I went for his throat. He was shocked.” Dallas rubs my lower back as he speaks, and it’s calming me.

  “You could get in a lot of trouble for that.” My warning is from first-hand experience.

  “What’s he going to do, go tell his daddy that I hit him? He would look weak to his pack, that he couldn’t settle his battles himself. The key is to have no witnesses. He came to my house alone at night looking to start a fight. It’s not settled between us, but it will be soon.” I can feel the smile on his face while he places a kiss on my shoulder.

  “I’m not afraid of him, Rya. I want you to know this. I am not afraid of that male.” He says it with conviction. He continues to rub my back, working all the muscles in his skilled hands. I’ve never experienced a back rub before by a male. It’s a first for me.

  Dallas lays me down so I’m facing the fire. He just keeps rubbing, massaging, and talking to me until I feel my eyes close with his sweet voice in my ear.

  With the sun stirring the world awake, I gradually wake up. I’m shocked to be laying against Dallas’s chest.

  His arm is around my lower back.

  I lay still for just a few minutes. His knee rests perfectly between my legs. When I rock with the slightest movement, a warm tingle starts to spread within me.

  This feels good.

  I rock again with the merest of movements, creating more pressure against my center. Stifling a moan, I press my chest against him. My breasts ache with the thought of his hands on them, his tongue, his teeth pulling at them.

  Looking to see if he’s awake, his eyes are still closed. I want to get up and move away, but I continue to rock against him subtly.

  I can’t believe I’m doing this, and I can’t believe I can’t stop myself.

  This feels much better than a pillow.

  He still hasn’t opened his eyes, so I continue my forward and backward motion against him. A little whimper comes out of my mouth. It’s then that I feel his hands travel to my hips to pull me up against his maleness.

  His turn to release a quiet sleepy moan, hands roaming all over my flesh.

  The fire’s out, but right now I’m ablaze. He’s feeling every line the whip made but not saying a word.

  I pull myself into a sitting position, hair falling over my shoulders. He begins to feel me where no male has never been before.

  My body floods itself with thanks to this male’s touch.

  He smells delicious.

  A howl wants to break out, as I start to really get close to what no male has ever given me before.

  Exquisite.

  This feels so good.

  “You’re beautiful.” He’s staring.

  That just set me on the edge…teetering that one second before all of my body’s pleasure consumes me. He approves with the way his canines are out, looking at my neck.

  That sight sends another wave through me, that I can even affect a male this way. He’s making me feel beautiful, wanted.

  I lay against his chest, and he strokes my hair, kissing my head. I don’t want to get up. He’s warm, and he fits my body well.

  My hand on his hip travels downward. I’m nervous. I have never felt a
male this way.

  Dallas grabs my hand, kissing the fingertips. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I want to.” He closes his eyes, releasing my hand.

  I move my hand down his chest, to his hip. Down the side of his groin and upper thigh. Letting my finger feel his skin. I can smell his pleasure from this. I can feel those fine muscles twitching under my touch. He lets out a breath when I bend down, placing a kiss along the side of his ribs, down to where the band of his boxers meets skin.

  I look at him, and our eyes connect. He takes a small breath as skin touches skin. His lips part as he exhales out, closing them for a brief second. He moans his appreciation at having hands touch him. Dallas’s muscles in his abdomen give me a show as he starts to find his own personal rhythm.

  He’s trembling in pleasure.

  The moan that he gives vibrates my thighs. This is a full-grown male rumble of ecstasy.

  He’s losing his control. His fingers are clenching the duvet. His eyes open, and that hand goes into my hair, bringing me against his lips. Kissing me hard, his teeth cut into my lips. He lets his growl shake us, his smell now potent. It’s a powerful smell that draws the wolf in me out. She’s been so dormant for so long that she’s near the surface…a ripple of skin, a flash of teeth his way. It’s somewhat painful as my jaw starts to stretch on its own. She wants to meet him, the only male who has shown us beauty.

  His hand on my hair takes the strays away from my wolf’s eyes.

  “Shift for me, Rya.” He’s got a commanding voice that I haven’t heard from him before.

  I fight the wolf on this. I haven’t shifted in many years. I don’t want him to witness this.

  “No, I can’t.” It’s painful fighting your own nature inside yourself.

  So he sits and waits for the winner to emerge. Once I get control of myself again, I feel embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry, she has never done that to me.”

  “How long have you gone without a shift?” He’s getting up going to the bathroom, letting the tap water run.

 

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