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Thorne Bay

Page 38

by Jeanine Croft


  “Because you’ve evolved. You’re freer now than you’ve ever been. By accepting her, you’ve accepted yourself. All that time you wasted thinking you were unhinged it was only your mind trying to let go of all that was dragging it down. You’ve always been powerful, Evan. You’ve always been a wolf. It’s a shame that most people ignore what connects them to nature.” He transferred his eyes to the watchful moon. “That’s another reason why we live out here, far removed from the superficial and deafening stampede of humanity. The urban decay, the destructive greed that’s slowly choking them, and eroding whatever small piece of unspoiled earth we own.” His tone lowered bitterly. “Sometimes I hate them.”

  “No, you don’t.” I placed a hand over his heart. “You fell in love with a human.” Then I poked a finger playfully into his ribs. “Now stop killing my mojo, Hyde.”

  He grimaced. “Ugh, you’re right.”

  “Want to know what I’m gonna do with Aidan’s guilt money?” This would divert him for sure.

  “What are you gonna do with your blood money?”

  Aidan had insisted that I be compensated for what had been done to me. It had been decided that Nicole’s inheritance would be settled on me, and I’d decided to put it to good use. “I’ve applied to college.”

  “Giving it another go, eh?” He seemed surprised.

  “Yup.”

  “You sure that’s what’ll make you happy?”

  “There are two things in this life I love above anything else, apart from you—animals and art. These are what make me happy.”

  “What do you want to study?”

  “Veterinary Medicine.” Art I could study in my free time with Tim. “It feels right, Tristan.” I’d already decided on University Of Alaska’s Juneau campus. I was really excited for my future—I’d finally found my place in the world. Crazily enough, with werewolves.

  Tristan was beaming. “That’s kinda perfect for you actually.”

  “Dean’s pack does, after all, need a competent physician.” That was, of course, until Tristan finally took his rightful place as the Yukon alpha—a notion he was starting to warm up to. Max would thank me one day. Pfft, who are you kidding? That bastard would rather gnaw off his own tongue than thank you for anything.

  Tristan, of course, was unaware of my dark humor. “And every time Odin or I get little doggie boo-boos you can stitch them up for us.”

  “Watch it or I’ll have you neutered in your sleep.”

  “That’s cutting your nose off to spite your face, woman.”

  “True,” I said, brushing my fingers down his abdomen. I halted just below his navel, skimming teasingly close to the kraken. Then, abruptly, I brought my wayward hand up to his smirking mouth. “But”—tapping his bottom lip for emphasis—“there are other parts of you that give me equal pleasure.”

  Tristan leaned in to kiss my neck. His hand roved around to my backside, swiftly maneuvering me so that I was straddling him. “Let’s explore that thought.” He instantly took full advantage of my parted lips. Then, down my throat went his roving mouth till, finally, his lips found an eager nipple.

  My hands locked behind his neck. “Hmm, you’re making sure I’m never tempted to neuter you, clever beast.”

  The sound of the Airwolf theme song suddenly halted his progress lower. Tristan raised his head with a discordant jolt, nonplussed by the unfamiliar ringtone. “What the—”

  Tickled by his expression, I burst into a fit of giggling.

  “Did you change my ringtone?” He’d finally cottoned on to my mischief.

  “Thought it was apt.”

  He shook his head, hauled himself out of the tub, and then headed into the house, his water tracks freezing almost instantly on the deck. By the time he returned to the tub my amusement had hardly evaporated.

  “It was Melissa,” he said. “The snow’s coming down too hard over there, they’ll try to head up here tomorrow instead.”

  “Is that so?” I asked with a feline smile.

  “It is so.” He lowered his big beautiful body back into the hot tub, eyes stalking me with preternatural hunger. “What should we do with ourselves till then?”

  Without the slightest warning, I leapt bare-assed from the tub and dashed across the snow, shrieking delightedly as he gave instant chase. I knew very well how hopeless it was to try and outrun a seasoned werewolf, but I had no intention of escaping him. We ran around the yard, hurling snow at each other, oblivious to the cold. Ribbons of gossamer steam wafted off my pinkened body, and his, as we tried to outmaneuver each other.

  He finally caught me around the waist, though I suspected he’d not tried very hard to catch me till now. He made short work of lifting me over his shoulder like a sack of denuded potatoes. With a little slap to my bum, he marched off into the house. Odin’s head was tilted curiously to the side as we passed him by.

  “Don’t mind us,” Tristan said to the dog.

  “This isn’t how Little Red Riding Hood finished,” I said, upside down, admiring his powerful backside as he carried me off to do bad things to me.

  He dropped me on the bed and pinned me down, eyes almost iridescent with lust. “Depends on which variant of the story you tell—the sanitized version…or the original.”

  “I can do without the sanitized version.” My answer was husky and breathless as his eyes probed mine.

  They were turquoise and gold—the latter glowing like moonlight now that his wolf was so near the surface. By now, his fangs had dropped from his gums. He took his time dragging them carefully down my breasts towards my belly. He kissed his way slowly towards my parted thighs. “Then you know he devours her in the end.”

  I nodded approvingly. My breath shuddered from my chest and my claws raked at his back as he made good on his promise. But I was far from ready to finish quite so soon, no matter how heavenly his lips and tongue caressed me. Surprising him, I suddenly pulled away and pushed at his chest till he relented and turned onto his back for me.

  My own jaws were now jagged with sharp desire as I climbed on top of him, inching my way down his torso. “And she,” I said darkly, “devours him right back.”

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  About the Author

  Jeanine Croft is an ‘Murican/South African helicopter pilot turned novelist. She lives in Charleston (for now) with her fixed-wing fiancé (whose character she lent to Tristan in Thorne Bay) and their kale-eating Yorkie, Maia. She’s been known to have whole conversations with her characters in the shower, which isn’t at all unsettling to her fiancé. She’s a lover of penny dreadfuls, fried tofu, and all animals (except mosquitoes), not necessarily in that order. Visit her online at jeaninecroft.com

 

 

 


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