by M. L. Briers
Drew rose to the challenge of defending his pride. “I held my own.”
“But you didn’t win,” she said, teasing him.
“It was … a draw.”
“Nah, she kicked your wolf butt,” Viv said, shrieking in surprise when he snatched her up from the sofa and hauled her onto his lap.
“Well then it’s lucky I only have to go up against a devious, wicked little witch of a mate from now on, isn’t it?” he said, grinning again.
“You think I can’t wipe the floor with you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows and challenging his pride to respond.
“Baby, let’s make love, not war…”
“Do not ‘baby’ me,” she said, snorting her contempt for that word. “And I’d like to get to the bottom of what’s going on in this town before we have pups…”
“Pups?” Drew said, starting to get to his feet and making her squeal in surprise again as she grabbed his shirt for fear of being dumped on the floor. His backside dropped back to the cushion.
“Not yet, but some time,” she said, calming the man before he had a heart attack.
“Oh,” Drew said – not sure if he liked that answer. Heck, he wanted to be a father, and the sooner, the better, but she’d kind of throw him for a loop with that one.
Vivelle offered him a smirk. “We’re you going to run for the door?”
“What? No!” Drew growled at the thought of any man that walked out on his child and its mother, and no man walked out on a mate.
“Just checking,” she said with a teasing smile.
“You know what?” Drew said, pushing to his feet once more, but this time she was firmly in his arms. “I think we should practice…”
“Being parents? Are you talking stealing a…?”
“No!” Drew said, eyeing his mate as if she was insane.
“Are we getting a puppy?” she said, with a big dollop of mock enthusiasm.
“There are no words…”
“Give it a go; I’m sure there are some,” she said, taking a long swig of his beer.
“Practice making pups,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows once more.
“Oh,” Viv said, frowning. “You mean like S-E-X?”
“Making love…”
“That too,” she said, raising the bottle to him. “Sure,” she said, noncommittally, and he frowned.
“Is there something else you’d rather be doing?”
Vivelle thought it over – when she really didn’t need to – the answer was heck no! She was on board with the lovemaking, but she didn’t need to rush right in there and tell him that. A little musing went a long way. “We could go see a nun about a…”
“Noooo,” he said, shaking his head.
“Oh fine,” she said, huffing. “Sex it is,” she added, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes, and a slow to boil wicked grin on her lips.
Drew let a low rumble of a hungry growl roll through him. “Witches are…”
“Yes?” she said, raising her eyebrows at him and daring him to continue. “That reminds me, do we know anyone that can build a doghouse?” she said, by way of a warning shot.
Drew wiggled those eyebrows again. “I just love witches,” he said, playing her game and making her giggle.
“Forgiven,” she said. “To the bedroom and don’t spare the wolves!”
“Horses,” he said, starting off for the door.
“Newsflash, you’re not a horse shifter.”
“Lucky for you, I’m not…”
“I hear those guys are huge in the…” Drew’s rumbled growl of annoyance made her press her lips together, but her attempt to hide her wicked smile was worthless. “Ego department,” she added, as amusement danced in her eyes.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
~
“What’s that?” Jorge asked, as he walked out of the kitchen and found his mate bent over retrieving something from the hallway closet. She turned with a beaming smile and so much mischief in her eyes that he knew it was a bad thing.
“A ball,” Nancy said, holding it up for inspection. “If I toss it out the door are you going to fetch?”
Jorge sighed. She was trying to get a rise out of him, but it wasn’t going to work. Even if his wolf did find some sort of interest in the idea. “If I put a pan on the stove are you going to throw a few toads in it and go dance naked under the moonlight?”
Nancy took a long moment to think about it. “Possibly, yes,” she said and beamed another wicked, tempting smile at him.
“Okay, bad example, because that sounds like something I’d like to see,” he said, grinning.
“Get in line.” She snorted her contempt.
Jorge didn’t like that answer, and neither did his wolf. “Oh no, sweetheart. I’m front of the line, and anyone behind me showing interest in my mate…”
“Down boy,” she said, and couldn’t hide the amusement in her eyes. “I’m just pulling your paw.”
“Woof, grrr,” he said, letting his beast settle back within him once more.
Nancy lowered her chin and pouted. “Did someone lose their sense of humour?”
“No, but somebody did get mighty possessive,” he said, taking a long step towards her and watching the spark of excitement flash in her eyes.
Nancy knew two things – she had nowhere to run, and sure, she could have jumped into the closet and barricaded herself in with magic, but there were probably spiders in there, and how long could someone stay in a broom closet? And, she was way more excited at his approach than she wanted him to know.
Her heart was pounding, her palms were getting sticky, and her temperature was rising like she’d just dropped into Hades for a visit. All in all, she had that fight or flight feeling going on – and right then her brain could not make up its mind which one to choose.
Life had been so simple this morning – now … now, she didn’t want to think about it.
“Of little old me?” she said sweetly, trying for coy, but thinking x-rated thoughts that flooded her mind and made his approach all the more exciting.
Nancy expected him to stop, but instead, and in one swift movement – he wrapped an arm around her waist, yanked her against his hard body while lifting and turning her back against the wall.
Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy – now she really was trapped, caged in with him all around her, and heaven help her, but she liked it a lot.
Nancy tossed the ball down the hallway. “Fetch,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Oh, I’ve got something far more appealing in mind,” Jorge said, and the rolling growl that rumbled through his chest and got lodged in his throat was like music to her ears.
“A stick?”
Jorge offered her a wolfish grin. “If I say I have wood…”
“I’d say I noticed,” she said, and she had. She could feel the hard length of his manhood pressed between them.
“And what would you say to that?”
“Well, I don’t normally talk to things below the waist, but as its brain is probably in control right about now…” she said, shrugging and leaving that open-ended.
“Oh, you bet it is,” Jorge said, flashing her another one of his sexy grins that made her knees hot and weak.
Who got hot knees? But her body certainly was doing strangely wonderful things. Especially bits that she really didn’t want to think about, bits below the waistline, and if she was going to speak to them she’d tell them to behave.
Her mate’s little brain might have been in control of his big one just then, but then, her brain wasn’t exactly being helpful either. Sex-sex-and more sex, it was all she could think about.
Yes, she’d seen him naked, and dang it, but she wanted to see him naked again. Up close and personal naked – and it didn’t feel wrong or rushed or even debauched – although, a little debauchery never did anyone any harm in her book.
It wasn’t like he wasn’t the one she was going to spend an eternity with – he was. It wasn’t like they didn’t have chemistry
– they did – she’d tried to fight it, but it was there, tap-tap-tapping away in the back of her mind. He even had his charms, and not all of them involved him being naked, which was always a bonus.
“Are we going to kiss or are you just panting for the…?” she asked, and never got to finish as she was silenced by his lips coming down on hers.
Yes!
Bingo!
Homerun!
Score!
~
Sister Mary peered through the window of Nancy’s cottage just as the witch locked lips with her mate. With a flush to her cheeks and a giggle on her lips, she ducked back down behind the bush and started to make her escape from the scene. “All’s well that ends well,” she muttered to herself, turning and almost running into the black brick wall that had taken root there.
“Oh, my,” Sister Mary said, following the dark habit up to the stern look on the face of Sister Margaret-Mary. “Fright night,” she muttered, giggling with the knowledge that she’d been busted spying once again.
“Is this really the best use of your time, Sister?” The disapproving tone ran over Sister Mary’s body like icy fingers.
“I’d say – probably not,” Sister Mary said, amusement sparkling in her eyes as she regarded Sister Margaret with an air of suspicion. “But then you’re here, so I guess I’m in good company.”
Sister Margaret scowled as she chewed that one over. “Once again, Sister, I was forced to come and find you.”
“Oh … hogwash with syrup and a cherry on top,” Sister Mary said, sidestepping the grumpy nun and starting away from the witch’s cottage before they were both caught spying.
Sister Margaret quickly fell into step beside her. “What if your little disappearing act gets noticed on both sides of the fence?” she whispered, not wanting anyone to overhear them.
“The church can’t help having a nosy nun, now can it?” she tossed back.
Sister Margaret didn’t like it. It was just too risky in a town like Knowing. “You’re getting too friendly with that other witch.”
“Questions are being asked…”
“By who?”
“The witches.”
“All of them?” Sister Margaret didn’t like that either.
“I don’t know, but interest is being shown in the elder council,” Sister Mary said.
“Oh, that’s not good,” Sister Margaret said, taking a moment to think on it.
Sister Mary shrugged. “I suppose the new pack was a bad idea after all.”
“I wonder if we should tell Father Wolf…”
“Why?” Sister Mary rushed out.
Sister Margaret frowned. “Because he’s Father Wolf…”
“But, that could be bad,” she whispered.
“Not for us,” Sister Margaret said in her no-nonsense attitude. Sister Mary stopped dead in her tracks and caused the older nun to look around searching for her as if she’d just been snatched by aliens. “Where’d you go?” she said, finding her again.
“But for Knowing,” Sister Mary said. They all had a vested interest in the small town, and she liked living in Knowing. She’d miss not being there, and she’d definitely miss … certain people.
“We’re here to watch and learn,” Sister Margaret said sternly, berating her, and Sister Mary huffed.
“I thought we were here to make sure that everything ran smoothly,” she protested.
“That too,” Sister Margaret conceded that point.
“Well then,” she said, brightening. “Why tell Father Wolf anything?”
“It’s our duty to…”
“Be nuns, be vigilant, and to look after the spiritual well-being of the flock,” Sister Mary argued her point, nodding in agreement with herself, and watched the grumpy nun chew that over.
“And the spiritual wellbeing of the flock wouldn’t be so well-of-the-being if half the town’s residents suddenly disappeared overnight…”
“Exactly!” Sister Mary said, with a rush of excitement and enthusiasm that was louder than she’d liked as she cut the other nun off right there. She chastised herself for speaking out of turn and motioned to get out of the witches quarter before they were discovered spying.
Sister Margaret was still thinking it over. “I suppose we could…”
“Oh, goody, I’m so glad you’re on board.” Sister Mary clapped her hands with glee, and remembering where they were, eyed the area for signs that they’d been caught.
“Hold your runaway horses, cowgirl, I never said I was on board,” Sister Margaret bit out and the younger nun deflated a little. “I guess we could do the whole wait-and-see thing for a bit.”
“Yea!” Sister Mary whispered out, raising her hands and doing a little penguin dance along the track.
“That doesn’t mean you should be spying – Jane Bond, leave that to the professionals,” Sister Margaret scolded her.
“But don’t you think it’s kind of sweet that the witches and wolves are finding their mates?” Sister Mary asked, leaning in sideways, and beaming her a teasing smile.
“No,” she bit back. “I think nothing good can come of it in the long run.”
“Fiddly dee-doo-dum,” Sister Mary said, brightening at the thought of another pair of mates and all that implied. “I like the idea.”
“And how much are you going to like the idea if things go wrong and the church pulls the big old plug on this place?” Sister Margaret asked, still with that ice cold vein in her voice.
Sister Mary didn’t answer. For now, everything was right with the world – well, their little part of it. Knowing by name, but not always knowing by nature.
Keeping secrets wasn’t pleasant, but right then, Sister Mary thought it was necessary. She just hated that she’d had to let Sister Margaret in on a few.
But right now the elder nun was on board, and that was all that mattered, and what Father Wolf didn’t know, couldn’t hurt anybody. Especially the witches.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
~
Nancy needed to catch her breath in more ways than one. With her back to the wall and her mate all around her, there wasn’t anywhere to go but up, and climbing up his big muscled legs to wrap herself around him might have seemed like a fine idea, but it would send entirely the wrong signals – or not.
Nancy wasn’t sure, she was confused by the rush of adrenaline and excitement, and her heated blood was carrying a virus known as who-gives-a-hoot. But was that her default mode or had she finally accepted that what was meant to be would be?
It wasn’t as if they didn’t have all the time in the world. Apparently, they did. But, time wasn’t the problem – the itchy-scratchy feeling within her was getting stronger, and that was a problem. When to scratch that itch?
What a time for the little angel and devil on either shoulder to go silent on her.
Nancy knew one thing, she’d been in full defensive mode since the moment that she’d set eyes on him, and oh, what a sight that was. Naked and ripped right down to his feet – yum! But that wasn’t the point, although it was a good one.
She knew she’d treated him unfairly, and maybe zapped him a few too many times, or maybe not so much – after all, if he was going to live with a witch for eternity, then he’d better get used to the bad mood days too. But even through her slightly crazed mood of self-righteous indignation and denial, he’d still managed to worm his way into her psyche, and she didn’t think that was all to do with the mating pull.
Nancy knew she’d had her chance to leave, sort of. He’d probably have followed her to the ends of the earth, but still, and devious little witch that she was, she hadn’t taken it.
Now he was kissing her like her very life depended on it, and boy – phew, was that good? You betcha!
With perfect love and perfect trust – if she could find it in herself to give that to her brethren then why didn’t it follow that she could do it with her mate? It wasn’t like the man was out to get something from her, or something she wasn’t willing to give freely.
Or that she was at risk of getting hurt, stomped underfoot as the guy made for the door at the first sign of trouble brewing.
Nancy knew that she couldn’t have shoehorned her mate out the door if the sky was falling. So…? What was she waiting for? A sign? Ha! Everything about him screamed – mate here! Sure thing! Fill your boots!
Was she waiting for a Fairy Godmother to poomf in and wave her magic wand? She had a magic wand all her own, and she didn’t need to wave it to know he was her mate.
Maybe waving a white flag for the ability to be able to draw a whole breath would be good, but she was happy to suffocate just a little as long as he kept kissing her.
And that was the crux of the matter – she didn’t want to stop – didn’t need to stop – and she wasn’t about to wave a white flag for anything.
Nancy got it now – got why Vivelle had fallen foul to that horrible thing called fate – because it wasn’t horrible at all. She’d been blessed with finding the one – her other half – the man who made her whole.
So, what the heck was there to think about?
That was when Jorge stopped kissing her and buried his face in the hair at her neck, and she drew in a breath and sighed it back out. Life was good.
With a rumble of a heartfelt growl, he took her scent. He’d only meant to kiss her a little until she’d said to stop, but she still hadn’t said stop.
Now he didn’t want to stop kissing her, but if he didn’t stop then he didn’t know if he’d be able to hold onto the beast within him that was gung-ho to mark her, claim her as theirs, and he didn’t think that getting his fangs out was going to fill her with a warm and fuzzy feeling.
“Tired? Do you need a break?” she said, her tone was teasing and breathless, and he liked the sound of that.
“I need to regain my composure,” Jorge said, reluctant to lift his head and lose that sweet glorious scent at the source, but it would be rude to ignore her.
“Why?” she said and confused the heck out of him.
“Huh?” he needed clarity. He needed for his little brain to relinquish control of his big brain before he did something stupid.