Single Wolf Female (Midnight Liaisons)

by Jessica Sims

  He simply grinned at me, amused by my surly attitude. “Just tell her we’ll go to dinner and I’ll be quiet.”

  I didn’t want to go to dinner. Not with the Alliance, who were a bunch of busybodies that stuck their noses in where they didn’t belong. My pack didn’t need the Alliance. That was for shifters that didn’t have pack support. We had everything we needed now that Jackson had arrived to lead us.

  Except my new leader? Had some ideas I wasn’t keen on. I glared at him again, and found him giving me a challenging stare. An alpha stare. I continued to glare at him, not willing to break gaze. The first one to look away would lose the challenge.

  “You’re about to run over that mailbox,” Jackson murmured at me, eyes still locked with mine.

  Shit. I broke gaze, righted the truck on the road, and gritted my teeth. “We’d love to go to dinner.”

  “Perfect,” Bath said happily.

  We made plans for over the weekend. A double date (god) over dinner. When the conversation ended, I clicked off my phone and tossed it into my purse, glaring at Jackson out of the corner of my eye.

  “Challenging me while I’m driving is totally not playing fair.”

  “The Alliance would be good for the pack,” he said.

  “I disagree.”

  “And that’s why I had to challenge.”

  “Yeah, but while I’m driving? Not cool.”

  “I guess I could have used other methods of persuasion,” he said in a husky voice. “Would you prefer those next time?”

  A ripple of awareness ripped through me, and I remembered his mouth on my neck, licking my skin. I sucked in a breath, my nipples going hard. “A challenge is fine,” I said flatly.

  He laughed.

  A few minutes later, we pulled into a tiny suburb sprawl in the midst of nowhere. Jackson gave me a curious look when we took a right on Alice Lane. “Is that a coincidence?”

  “Nope,” I told him. “I own all these houses.”

  He looked impressed, staring out the window at the small ranch-style houses, neatly lined up on acre plots. “How many are there?”

  “Fifty-six,” I told him. “I wasn’t joking when I said I was a slum lord.”

  He chuckled. “These aren’t slums to me. They’re nice houses.”

  They were. I was proud of them. “My dad was a builder,” I told him. “Worked for other people for the first twenty years or so, and then came into some money when his father died, and left him a couple hundred acres out in the country. My father decided that he’d do something with that land and that money, and built a bunch of houses so he could rent them out to people that needed housing but couldn’t really afford it.”

  “Your dad sounds like a great guy,” he murmured, still looking out the window.

  “He was,” I said, my throat getting tight as I thought about my father. Gone five years now, still missed him every day. I swallowed and cleared my throat. “We could probably get a grand a month for each of these houses, but we only charge three hundred. Everyone that lives here needs some sort of assistance. We have a lot of single mothers, elderly, disabled, you name it. Lots of shifters, too,” I said, glancing over at him. “Gotta look out for our own people.”

  “Of course.”

  “Anyhow, our pack does fine with what we bring in a month. Fifty-six houses at three hundred a month is still a good living, and we’re helping people out. I can’t bring myself to do it.”

  I’d argued with Cash about it time and time again, too, because he didn’t have the same generous spirit that Dad had. I got a vague pang of worry about Jackson. What if he thought the same way that Cash did? That fifty-two grand a month instead of fifteen was worth putting the squeeze on our poor residents?

  But he only looked over at me. “You got any plumbing issues? I’m more than happy to help out.”

  And that was why I was starting to think that maybe this could work, despite our issues. “All the time,” I admitted with a smile. “Summer tends to be heavy on electricity issues, though. Air conditioners going on the fritz and such. I do a lot of quick maintenance on them, but I have to call someone out every now and then.”

  He grinned at me as we pulled into a driveway. “I’m starting to learn that you’re a rather self-sufficient woman.”

  His praise made me feel warm inside. I couldn’t help but watch him as I introduced him to my tenant and we stepped inside the already-warm house. I tinkered with the AC, checking the p-trap and resetting the breakers while Jackson chatted with Eliza and even held her baby while she pointed out issues with the toilets running and making their water bill climb.

  Luckily, the AC fix was an easy one, and I had it blowing cool air again within an hour. Jackson fixed her toilets, a leak in the kitchen sink, and by the time we left, had completely charmed Eliza. I drove him out to another house that I knew had leaky faucets, and we got those fixed as well. With fifty-six houses to maintain, I pretty much ran out to visit at least one a day. That was my job - making sure everyone was taken care of and collecting rent. Once we were done, though, I drove around the small suburb since Jackson seemed interested, and gave him a tour of Alice Lane as well as Cash Drive, June Court (my mother’s name) and Donald Way (my father’s name). We unofficially called them the Savage Estates, and even though it was just a bunch of ranch houses out in the boonies, I was proud of them and what they represented. Jackson seemed pleased at them, too. I then gave him a tour of the rest of Savage property, since my big Victorian was situated on a couple hundred acres in the other direction. They’d been seeded with a lot of fast growing trees and barb-wire fenced some time ago so we’d have a safe place to run and play and be wolves without fear of getting shot by hunters. It was a rarity in this day and age, and I loved the freedom we had.

  The Savage pack was self-sufficient. We didn’t need anyone. We especially didn’t need the Alliance.

  And part of me kind of hated that we needed Jackson. The fact that he made me feel all weird and fluttery inside? Felt a bit like betrayal. Like being attracted to him meant I was somehow doing a disservice to my pack history.

  ~~ * ~~

  The day was a long, long one.

  By the time we’d finished running around the Savage Estates and touring our property, we came home and ordered pizza. I found that the rest of the pack seemed to be getting along great, with the exception of Len, who had returned but was still sulky. We all hung out in the living room and watched movies together, eating pizza and popcorn and chattering through the movie.

  Holly held the baby, and I noticed that Dan sat next to her on the loveseat, though he was stiff and awkward.

  I knew how he felt. I’d sat on the sofa and Jackson had promptly sat right next to me, draping his arm over my shoulders in a possessive move that Len hadn’t missed. I knew it was for show. Jackson had to push his role as alpha and my mate onto the others. Once they accepted it, they’d relax and settle in and things would smooth out. Len would step back into his role as beta and be fine with Jackson.

  It was just me that was skittish. Me that had a hard time relaxing when Jackson’s arm lay over my shoulders or played with my hair. And when I yawned through the second movie and Jackson suggested that we head to bed? I was pretty sure that everyone scented my nervousness, even though no one commented on it.

  We headed up to my room after saying our goodnights to the others. Our Victorian was split, bedroom-wise, and the alphas had rooms opposite from the rest of the pack. Our rooms were bigger than the others, and the room that Cash had shared with Joanne was currently empty. Jackson could always take that one once his dominance was firmly established.

  But for now? While we were still establishing pack hierarchy? He’d be bunking with me.

  And that made me nervous and on edge.

  His hand was on my back as we entered my room. My bed was a full size and stood in the center of the room. I stared at it as I entered, painfully aware of just how small it would be with two normal-sized people in it. I
turned and shut the door, trying to think. There was a chair in my room, but I was aware that Jackson hadn’t slept much last night. Putting him back in the uncomfortable chair would be unfair to him, and I needed him strong.

  But I still hesitated.

  “I can sleep in the chair,” he said, as if sensing my thoughts.

  “No,” I told him. “It’s cool. We can share the bed. We’re supposed to be mated, anyhow.”

  “You sure?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Oh yeah,” I said, making sure my voice was as casual as I could make it. “No problem.”

  “All right, then.” He moved into the room and began to strip off his shirt. “You want the right side or the left side?”

  “Left.” We were so normal about all of this. Like it was nothing. I glanced over at him from under my lashes and noticed his broad bare chest. He was unbuckling his belt and sliding down his jeans, and I caught sight of a pair of checkered boxers before I turned away again.

  I needed to change, too. I could just strip down my clothing. Nudity wasn’t anything for shifters, especially werewolves, since you tore off your clothing before a change so you didn’t ruin it. I’d seen everyone in my small pack more naked than most people saw their spouses. But this was different. This was me, getting undressed to climb into bed with my mate.

  But I couldn’t leave the room to change. What if the others noticed? Plus, I needed to get used to seeing Jackson naked - the full moon was tomorrow night and that meant a pack run. If I acted all maidenly around him then, it’d make things worse. Sucking in a deep breath, I turned my back to him, pulled my shirt over my head, and began to change out of my clothing.

  I kept my eyes straight ahead, staring at the wall as I methodically undressed and changed into my sleep t-shirt. If he watched me, I didn’t notice. I concentrated on undressing and then tossing my clothes in the hamper. When I turned around, Jackson was already in bed - right side - and fluffing one of my pillows. I sucked in a deep breath, turned off the light, and climbed into bed next to him.

  My bed was small. Way freaking small. Even when I turned on my side, I could feel Jackson’s skin against mine, his arm against my arm. I turned on my side, but then it meant that my ass brushed up against his arm. Didn’t want that. Of course, if I flipped around, my breasts would be rubbing up against him and my face would be inches away from him. Didn’t want that, either. I laid on my back again, staring up at the ceiling.

  “Do you wanna talk, Alice?”

  Jackson’s voice was ultra low, so low that I could barely hear it over the distant roar of another movie downstairs, and the low hum of conversation. He was deliberately trying to keep our conversation quiet, so the others wouldn’t pick up that we were talking. I looked over at him in bed, and as I did, he turned on his side, facing me. His scent overwhelmed my nostrils.

  God, he smelled good. God, I was so nervous.

  “Talk?” I whispered. “About what?”

  “Me and you. You’re scared of me. I can smell it.”

  So humiliating. “I am not.”

  “You’re also lying in this bed, stiff as a board.”

  I said nothing.

  He rubbed his neck, then sighed. “Hell, Alice, you’re making me feel like a damn rapist.”

  That only made me go stiffer. “Sorry.”

  “Look, have I made you uncomfortable somehow? Done something to freak you out?”

  I shook my head, feeling a little guilty. “It’s not you. It’s me. Everyone’s going to be expecting, you know. You and me. And I’m…”

  “A virgin. I remember.” He sighed. “Trust me, I remember.” To my surprise, he reached out and brushed a lock of hair off my forehead. It was a possessive, yet weirdly comforting gesture. “And they’re not expecting you and me to marry. They just want pack life to get back to normal. They’re desperate for it and looking to us for cues.”

  I was desperate for it, too. But I couldn’t say that.

  “Thing is,” Jackson said, then paused. “You jump every time I touch you. You’re stiff with dread every time my arm brushes yours. And that’s just going to keep dividing lines.”

  Stiff…with dread? “I’m not stiff with dread,” I pointed out. “I’m just…a virgin. This is a lot for me to take in, you know.”

  “I know.” His voice was achingly soft. “You ever been kissed?”

  I could feel my face heating up in the dark. “Once. When I was twelve. Then Cash beat the hell out of him for touching his sister.”

  Jackson chuckled. “Cash sounds like a good brother.”

  He was an overprotective, arrogant ass. He was a risk-taker, quick to argue, hard-headed, stubborn, and unbending. And I desperately, desperately missed him. “He was the best,” I said, my voice hoarse with tears.

  Warm arms wrapped around me, and I found my face being pressed against warm male chest. “I’m sorry, Alice. I know this is hard on you. You haven’t even had a chance to grieve. Not properly. You’re too busy trying to hold shit together.”

  Hot tears poured from my eyes. To hear someone verbalize exactly how I felt? Lost, alone, and so miserable? It felt good - and awful - at the same time. I buried my face against his chest and tried to muffle my sniffles even as I continued to cry. I couldn’t weep for my lost brother in front of the pack. I had to be strong. But here? In a stranger’s arms? I was going to be allowed to grieve.

  Jackson continued to stroke my hair and my back while I cried quietly, simply holding me and comforting me. Eventually, my tears died away. I remained in his arms, though, comforted by his gentle touches and caresses.

  “Is my touch bothering you?” he asked, his voice low and husky against my ear. “Do you want me to stop?”

  Just the feel of his breath against my skin made me shiver. But…I didn’t want him to stop. I was warm, and comforted, and for the first time in weeks, I felt safe. “I…no. I like your touch.”

  And then I felt a blush crawl up my cheeks for saying that.

  “Good. I like touching you, too.”

  My body prickled with awareness, and I became extremely aware of how I was pressed against him. My breasts - loose under my sleep shirt - were pressed to his chest, and one of my knees was between his. “Well,” I said shyly. “This is one way to get used to each other.”

  “It is,” he agreed, and there was a hint of amusement in his voice. I couldn’t see his face, though, since I was pressed against his chest, but I could picture the smile on his mouth. “You know…you’re welcome to explore me, if you like.”

  “Explore?”

  “Yeah. Your virginity? It can stay as long as you want. You take the lead. But…if you want to explore me without fear, get to know a man, you can. I’m willing.”

  I sat up, frowning down at him in the bed. His face was utterly serious - and utterly gorgeous - in the low moonlight trickling in through the blinds. “Is that a pick-up line?”

  “Not at all. But you and I are mates.” His fingers reached up to brush against the bite mark on my neck. “For the good of both of our packs. So I figure this relationship can be as chaste - or not - as you want it to be. I know what I want, but I’m willing to let you lead.”

  Anxiety - and anticipation - fluttered through me. “And…what is it you want?”

  He just gave me a sleepy-eyed look, full of desire. “You could touch me and see exactly what I want.”

  I sucked in a breath, my mind filling with images. Me, leaning over the bed, pulling down the blankets, and exposing Jackson - all of Jackson - to my gaze. Leisurely touching him however I wanted. Seeing how he liked it.

  The thought was incredibly appealing.

  “Go on,” he murmured, pulling the blankets down and exposing his chest to me. “I won’t touch you, Alice. Not unless you ask me to.”

  Hesitant, I sat back on my knees and regarded him. I placed my palm against his chest, right over his heart. The heavy thump thump in his chest sped up a little at my touch. He felt warm, too, his skin soft. His
chest was tanned, though I could see tan-lines on his body - darker mid-bicep and around his collar. A redneck tan, Trina would laugh. But looking at this gorgeous man in my bed? It wasn’t amusing so much as it was fascinating. He had a sprinkle of chest hair across his pectorals, too, and it narrowed to a trail that led down his belly and disappeared into the waistband of his boxers. I pulled the blankets down, unable to stop myself from looking…and stopped.

  His boxers were tented, his arousal evident.

  My startled gaze flew back to him, but he hadn’t moved. He was still watching me with that predatory gaze, his eyes gleaming with wolf. He was…aroused at my touch? At the thought of me exploring him?

  I felt my own arousal rise through me, speeding my pulse even faster. I knew he only wanted me because I came with the pack, but it was hard not to be attracted to him. Jackson was gorgeous to look at, and utterly masculine. And despite that outward serenity? He was all alpha, and it called to me and sang in my blood. Likewise, he probably felt a pull to me because I was a female alpha, but I wasn’t a beauty. My nose was short, my chin stubborn and square, and I didn’t do anything with my hair other than wash it. I’d lost weight in the past few weeks because of stress, so I probably looked all hollow and lost.

  I hesitated, then brushed my hand down his thigh. It was lightly sprinkled with hair, and strong. I felt his muscles twitch as I touched him, and he groaned, shifting in the bed. I could have sworn his boxers moved a little, too. That was fascinating.

  But I wasn’t ready to touch him there, yet. So I ran my fingers back up his leg and then across his stomach, feeling the hard muscles there. He was trim, not an ounce of fat on him. His biceps were corded with muscle, and all of him was gorgeous. He was built like a statue, except warm and flexing under my touch.

  My fingertips skimmed one nipple, and I glanced at his face to see his reaction.

  He gave another low groan, his gaze on my face.

  I could feel my own breathing becoming rapid, my nipples tight. The scent of my arousal began to hang in the air, along with a thickening musky smell that I’d come to associate with Jackson.