The Pretend Marriage: A Werewolf Romance

by Dawn Steele

  Ohhhh!

  Stop it or you’ll end up masturbating!

  She should just let him sleep and make her bed on the floor instead.

  But she doesn’t want to. The thought of sleeping next to him, spooning against his clothed, warm body is very enticing. Very enticing indeed. The thought of disappearing into dreams with her hand upon his, imbibing his scent on her nostrils suddenly becomes the only thing that occupies her mind.

  I should have a bath too.

  But she just wants to lie next to him for a while. To breathe in the same space he is breathing. To not think too much of how she arrived here – deciding that he is the one for her – but to just revel in the moment, because tonight will be the last night she spends with him. Tomorrow, whatever the outcome, all this will be over.

  So she positions herself next to him. His body warmth immediately radiates across the tiny divide between their bodies. She feels toasty and comforted, and she soon drifts off to sleep herself.

  Her dream is stark and vivid and hyper-real.

  She has shifted to her wolf form. She is running in the woods with the red gold wolf, Jake. Her senses are all primed to the sights, sounds and smells of the forest – the rustling of the wind in the trees, the chirping of birds on the boughs and the smell of pine and sweet berries and freshness. She is strong, alive and very free as her powerful legs pump beside his.

  They crest a slope up the hill, where the trees are sparser and the sky is a swatch of blue above their heads. She has never been so energized in all her life. Once on the top of the hill, they both pause together, as if they are mates. Jake lifts his muzzle to scent the air. She can smell what he smells – the sea nearby.

  Wordlessly, he gives her the signal to shift. They both shift simultaneously into their human forms. They are naked, of course. The desire in his golden brown eyes is obvious.

  “You are beautiful,” he says.

  “As are you,” she replies. Her own core is burning with need for him as well. She gazes at his erection. It is magnificent. Her breath catches.

  “I have never felt this way about anyone before,” he confesses, taking her hands.

  “Nor I.”

  “I believe you are the one I’m looking for. My mate.”

  The word sends shudders through her. In a good way. The way he says it is so dominant, as though he is laying claim on her.

  My Mate.

  “I believe you are my fated mate too,” she says. And the moment she says it, a delicious thrill ripples down her spine, like a goose walking down it.

  “I never used to believe in mates,” he tells her. “I thought it was all a rural legend, coined by shifters before we became civilized. I never used to believe the human stories either of finding their significant others as well, as if there was only one person in the world they are fated to be with.”

  She understands.

  His nostrils flare and his pupils darken.

  “I want you,” he says hoarsely.

  “I want you too.”

  “I’m going to take you as you should be taken.” His voice is raw with his need. Pleasure courses through her. It’s incredible to be wanted so badly by a beautiful man. His hands move to her arms. “Come here.”

  They embrace in a frantic lip lock. His lips are hard and soft and hot and warm and yielding all at the same time. Emotions swarm through her like a riptide. Her pussy petals become extremely engorged, and a trickle of molten liquid flows out of her core. His hands are all over her arms, her back, her buttocks, her breasts.

  “Ohhhh, Terry,” he moans against her mouth. “You’re so sweet. So sweet.”

  His tongue pushes against hers, and they are twining like two continuous pieces of flesh. She can’t tell where she flows into him and he into her. He pushes her pliant body to the ground – the fresh, soft loam of the earth – and presses his hard, muscled bulk down onto hers.

  “Terry, Terry . . . ” He kisses her neck and the graceful arch of her shoulder while working his way down to her breasts. Her nipples tingle with electricity as his mouth brushes against her right areola.

  “Don’t stop,” she begs.

  Terry’s eyes fly wide open.

  She is in the bedroom, and it is dark but for the moon shining in at the window. A slight breeze flutters the curtains. Jake’s hand is on her breast, and he is kissing her neck gently, lovingly.

  Is he even awake?

  “Jake?” she whispers.

  If this is his dream, she doesn’t want to wake him.

  “Mmmmmm.” He continues to slide his lips over her sensitive skin. His hand squeezes her breast below her cotton tee. “Terry . . . ”

  He is not conscious of what he is doing, she decides. But his touch feels sooooo good that she doesn’t want to rouse him just yet. What he is doing sends the same tingles all over her body that sets her pulse racing and her groin turning into mush.

  She wonders if he is prone to having wet dreams. Should she just play along . . . or wake him?

  What if he does something he will regret?

  His hand slides down her stomach to the hem of her T-shirt, and he pulls it up. His body starts to roll on top of her right side. She decides it wouldn’t be fair to him to let him continue.

  “Uh, Jake?”

  He pulls up her shirt, exposing her midriff.

  “Jake?” A little louder.

  “Huh?”

  His eyes flutter open. She can see his white orbs in the semi-darkness.

  “Oh my God, Terry! What are you doing here?” He springs up as if the bed is on fire. And maybe it is. He jumps off the bed in panic and almost stumbles as he lands on his feet.

  It’s her fault for not waking him earlier.

  “I fell asleep,” she says, guiltily.

  “You should have pushed me off the bed.”

  “You looked so tired I didn’t have the heart to wake you.” She sits up in bed and reaches for the lamp. Uh, maybe that’s a bad idea. Her hair must be tousled and she must look a right mess. She does it anyway, and the room floods with golden light.

  “Did I do anything to you?” he says in a wary tone.

  “No,” she replies quickly.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.” She swallows. “I ran you a bath, but the water’s probably cold by now.”

  He runs his hand through his long hair, just as tousled.

  “Thank you. Uh, I must have fallen asleep.” He seems uncertain now. Then he’s wary again. “Did you, uh . . . I mean, did I say anything in my sleep?”

  He said my name.

  “No,” she lies. She must appear equally flustered.

  “I didn’t happen to . . . call anyone’s name out, did I?”

  OK. Just how good is she at lying?

  “No.”

  “Good.” He is relieved.

  “I hope you had a good nap,” she adds.

  “I better take that bath now.”

  “It’s probably cold.”

  “I know. I’ll run the shower.” He hesitates. “But thanks for running it for me anyway.”

  His eyes linger on her face, and there is a look of such yearning in them that she feels a pang.

  What is he thinking? What was he dreaming about? Why did he call my name out?

  He needs to make the first move, she decides, if there’s anything there at all. She can’t – won’t – get her heart broken again. Burt was the last straw. She doesn’t want to be a fool over a guy who will ultimately use her and leave her all over again. Her poor, beleaguered soul can’t take it.

  “I gotta go,” he says, and quickly moves to the bathroom.

  “Tell me if you need your bandage changed,” she says after him.

  “Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll need to have it changed just yet.”

  He closes the bathroom door softly behind him, leaving her mind in a turmoil.

  13

  “I have chosen the terms of the contest,” Jeff announces when they are all seated down at brea
kfast.

  Everyone instantly is on the alert even as they shovel their bacon and eggs into their mouths. Jake narrows his eyes. Whatever this will be, it can’t be good.

  Jeff favors him with a satisfied look, and continues, “This will be a treasure hunt.”

  Uh oh. Dimly, Jake remembers that Jeff has won the New York State Treasure Hunt cup last year.

  “There will be rules to this treasure hunt. I vetted them through Peter last night and he agrees the rules are concise and fair.”

  Peter nods. “They are fair.”

  Everyone listens with bated breath.

  Smart, Jake thinks. Let Peter know the stakes and show him your superior planning in the meantime.

  “There will be three checkpoints in this hunt. At each checkpoint, you will be handed a clue. The first one to reach the third checkpoint wins.”

  Mika stops chewing. “Hey, this is actually interesting,” she says.

  “Grownups sometimes do interesting things, even though you don’t like to believe it,” her father quips.

  Jeff says, “There’s a caveat.”

  I knew it, Jake thinks. He exchanges a glance at Terry. What did you expect? her expression says.

  “The caveat is that both couples must participate in this treasure hunt, but there will be a spouse swap.” Jeff’s eyes take in Terry’s flushed face with unhealthy anticipation. “I will go with Terry, and Jake will go with Cassie. Both team members have to be present at the final checkpoint, and no team member is allowed to willfully delay the other team member to help the opposing team to win.”

  Jake immediately sees what Jeff is trying to do. Jeff is saddling him with Cassie because he thinks she will be a handicap.

  Clever.

  “But that’s not fair!” Terry protests.

  “On the contrary, it is completely fair. Your husband – ” Jeff says this word with a smirk on his face “ – cited Clause No. 273 (A), which gives me total control over the terms and type of the contest. Isn’t that true, Savage?”

  Jake nods. Yes, he did. He needed to buy them time.

  “But your wife . . . she’s pregnant!” Terry says.

  “Then I’m sure your husband will have to make sure she’s not overly taxed now, will he not?”

  Cassie looks as withdrawn and miserable as she has all weekend. Jake wonders what this is doing to her emotionally and psychologically. She can’t be liking this one bit. He is concerned at the toll this seems to be taking on her.

  “Cassie, are you OK with this?” Martha says gently.

  Cassie nods. “I’m OK.”

  “But Cassie will not be advised to shift in her condition,” Jake points out.

  “I’m sure you will be taking note of her condition, Jake, if you know what’s good for you.” Jeff says. “No worries. Hobble along if you have to. Cassie will try her best not to slow you down. Won’t you, sweetheart?”

  “I’ll do my best.” Cassie flashes Jake a quick, tight smile.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to let Cassie go at her stage,” Jake says. He really is concerned about her right now, even if her husband doesn’t appear to be. “Why don’t I take Mika along as a partner, or Ethel?”

  “Challenger’s rules, remember?” Jeff counters. “What’s the matter, Savage? Getting cold feet now?”

  “No, but she’s your wife.”

  “Thank you for reminding me. Can’t say the same about yours, which is what this challenge will be aiming to prove.”

  “I have full faith in our ancestors’ methods,” Jake says, lifting his chin.

  Terry murmurs beside him, “I don’t like this one bit.”

  “Don’t worry. You are there to be a pain in his side without appearing obvious.” Jake grins.

  “But – ”

  “Sssssh.”

  A smile suddenly lights Terry’s face.

  Peter claps his hands. “We will be finishing breakfast soon. Now . . . are we ready to begin the treasure hunt?”

  14

  Jake and Cassie are poised outside the front door together with Jeff and Terry. It feels strange to be with someone else other than Terry. And he has only really known Terry, like, what? Two days? It feels like she has gotten under his skin forever.

  Not to have her as his partner for the final challenge feels weird. He is going to miss their closeness after all this is over, for better or worse. He wonders how she feels about him. He had this torrid wet dream about her last night, one is he is too embarrassed to tell her. He had woken up to find his hand draped over her body like a wet rag. Gawd! What must she think of him?

  But he has no time to think about all this now. He has a contest to win.

  Correction: they have a contest to win. Him and Terry.

  “Good luck,” he mouths to her.

  She catches it and flashes him a dazzling smile.

  “Are you ready for your first clue?” Peter says.

  Jake can tell he is enjoying this every step of the way. There’s something of a conniving bastard about Peter, even though he appears to be a benign, tartan-wearing, people-focused employer, and Jake can tell that this man relishes pitting his employees against each other in a competitive way. Peter won’t denigrate anyone. That is not his style. His style is very much in the ‘may the best man win/get the promotion’ way – which has its good and bad points, depending on which angle you go by.

  The members of Peter’s family are gathered by either side of the driveway like Amazing Race ex-contestants to cheer the final two on. Mariko does not look too pleased. She probably realizes she is out of the race completely. Hiro, on the other hand, is cheering them on.

  “Get him, Jake!” Mika shouts.

  “You can do it, Jake!” Ethel calls and wolf-whistles.

  Jake throws them the thumbs up sign. He is gratified they are supporting him even though a cloud of doubt hangs over his head as to whether or not he lied about being married.

  Peter stands in front of the two couples. He holds up two envelopes.

  “On your mark,” he says like a TV reality host, “get set . . . go!”

  Both Jake and Jeff snatch their respective envelopes out of Peter’s outstretched hands. They rush to two different areas to read the clues with their partners. Cassie has difficulty walking fast, Jake notes, which is no doubt a factor Jeff considered.

  “What’s the clue?” Cassie says. To her credit, she appears quite eager despite her condition. In fact, Jake has never seen her happier. He resolves to be really kind and patient with her.

  He reads: “Drive to Terminal Point at Finnegan’s Bay to receive the next clue.”

  Cassie’s eyes are shining. She is truly beautiful when the light is on her face, Jake thinks. He curses for Jeff for making her half the woman she ought to be. Maybe she was proud and strong and bold once, like Terry, but the fire went out of her along the way.

  “I have my Ford,” Jake says. He starts to run towards it but remembers that Cassie can’t move very fast. So he forces himself to slow down and wait for her.

  “It’s OK, take your time,” he cautions her as she waddles next to him. He gives her his hand.

  She accepts it gratefully. “Thank you. You’re a nice man.”

  On the other side of the drive, Jeff and Terry have already gone inside Jeff’s yellow and black Camaro.

  “Nice car, you husband has,” Jake observes, a little enviously.

  “It’s his favorite,” Cassie says. “I told him we would need something a little larger when the baby comes but he hasn’t gotten down to buying it yet.”

  “I’m sure he will.” Jake opens the passenger door of the Ford for Cassie and she climbs in. Then he rushes to the driver’s door.

  The onlookers break out in applause as the Camaro revs its engine and backs out of its parking lot with a screech of tires. It shoots out of the drive in record time just as Jake starts his engine. Uh well, Jeff is sure to have noted that Jake drove the much slower Ford.

  Still, he revs out as q
uickly as he can.

  “Buckle up,” he says to Cassie.

  She straps herself in and smiles at him.

  “I’m enjoying myself,” she says.

  He smiles back and sends the car into overdrive to try to catch up with the rapidly vanishing Camaro.

  *

  Finnegan’s Bay is about thirty miles down the coast, according to Jake’s GPS. He keeps to the speed limit, not wanting to be stopped by the constantly patrolling police. There is no sight of the Camaro.

  “Jeff tends to drive fast,” Cassie explains.

  “That’s why he owns a Camaro, I guess.”

  She turns to him. Her eyes are wide and luminous.

  “I know you must not think very well of him right now, but he’s decent. He really is.”

  “I’m sure he is. And even if he isn’t, he has you to keep him in line.”

  “He needs this job. He quit the last one he had over a spat with the boss. With the baby on the way and everything, we need to keep a roof over our heads.”

  Jake wonders if this is Jeff’s ploy – to make his heavily pregnant wife plead for food on the table.

  He replies, “I need this job too. I quit my job over a spat with my boss as well. So we’re even.”

  She nods and turns to gaze out of the windscreen again. “I know.”

  “Good. This is a healthy competition, so don’t take anything personally, OK? I think you’re a nice person and you deserve someone who treats you better than what I’ve seen from Jeff. But that’s none of my business and you can tell me to shut up.”

  “Jeff is a good man,” she says dreamily. “He fought the alpha of our clan for my hand, did you know?”

  “No, I didn’t know.”

  “The alpha, Don Simmons, loved me, but I didn’t love him. I loved Jeff, who was a very prominent member of our circle. Jeff challenged Don to a duel. Don won and retained his seat of power, but when he saw that I wasn’t in love with him, he relented and turned both of us out instead of destroying me. Don was a good man.”

  Jake knows that the old shifter practices of dueling to the death and claiming an unwilling mate no longer apply in today’s modern civilization, but he also knows some of the older clans still hold the tradition.