Werewolf in Denver

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  She sat propped up against a bank of pillows, totally naked and totally engrossed in his book. He stood there a moment so he could etch the scene in his memory. He might need to take it out later to lift his spirits on some cold gray day in Glenbarra.

  Surely no reader of his book had ever looked as sexy and lovely as this while turning the pages. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, and then she chuckled and turned the page. He’d made her laugh. That was worth more than fifty rave reviews on the Internet.

  She didn’t even agree with him, and yet she’d laughed at something he’d written. Because she’d just begun the book, she must be reading his description of the first time he had to use a condom because he was having sex with a human female and she quite rightly insisted on it.

  Kate’s chuckle turned to outright laughter that made her breasts jiggle. Unfortunately, his view of her sweet breasts was partially blocked by his damned book. Stepping silently back into the shadows, he continued to watch her read while he took off the rest of his clothes.

  At one point she laughed so hard she had to stop and wipe the tears from her eyes. Then she went right back to reading. He’d hooked her. He wondered how long he could stand here before she’d notice that he hadn’t joined her in the bedroom.

  He couldn’t decide whether to be flattered that she liked the book so much or depressed because the book seemed to be taking his place very nicely. In a way, he was competing with himself for her attention. But watching her lying there in her big, comfy bed soon produced a now-familiar effect on his cock.

  He walked into the room. “You seem to be enjoying that.”

  She glanced up, as if surprised to find the author himself, an aroused author at that, standing by her bed. Then her gaze lowered to his pride and joy, and she grinned. “I almost wish I had a condom so I could see if you’ve improved your technique.”

  “I have.” He climbed into bed with her and closed his hand over the open book. “But you make a good point about not bothering with one.” He started to lift the book out of her hands.

  She gripped it tight. “Don’t do that. You’ll lose my place.”

  “Then we’ll just turn down the corner of the—”

  “Don’t!” She jerked the book away. “You will not dog-ear a page on my personally autographed book.” Her blue eyes flashed. “Are you a dog-ear kind of reader?”

  “I suppose I’ve dog-eared a page or two in my day.” He decided not to admit it was his usual habit.

  She rolled to the far side of the bed and opened a drawer. “Then remind me never to loan you one of my books.” She took a metal bookmark out of the drawer. “This is how civilized readers mark their place.” She inserted the bookmark and laid the book on the nightstand.

  “I’m honored that you’re taking such good care of my book, lass. But there’s more where that came from. I had several boxes of them shipped to the hotel last week.”

  “I know.” She scooted around and sat cross-legged, facing him. “I took delivery, which makes me doubly ashamed that I didn’t read it before now. But I don’t want one of those books. I want the one you gave me.”

  He was touched by that, more than he wanted to let on. Only an idiot would miss the fact that she was starting to care for him. And he was starting to care for her…a great deal. He probably needed to figure out some potential solutions for them, but he’d had a very long day and thinking wasn’t so easy when confronted with a naked Kate.

  He lay on his side, his head propped on a pillow, and just looked at her. In a moment he would do more than look, but for now he wanted to be still and appreciate the pink and gold beauty of her. Her hair curled around her creamy shoulders, tousled and shining in the light from the bedroom lamps.

  He noticed the little pulse beating in the hollow of her throat, and a small freckle above her right breast. Her raspberry nipples tightened under his scrutiny and her breasts moved in rhythm with her breathing. His attention moved lower, past the crescent-shaped shadows beneath her breasts to the sweet little indentation of her navel.

  Lower still, a golden triangle of curls nearly covered her treasures, but because she sat cross-legged, she revealed a glimpse of pink perfection. His cock twitched. Perhaps the time for looking was over.

  But he hesitated, because she seemed to be engaged in the same sort of study. Her gaze roamed up from his toes, lingered gratifyingly on his erection, and then traveled onward until she reached his eyes.

  “I can’t decide,” she said.

  Now, there was a statement to worry any male with his heart set on seduction. “I hope you’re not referring to whether we’ll have sex or not. Personally, I’m quite decided on that, and in the affirmative, I might add.”

  She smiled. “Oh, me, too.”

  That restored his good humor in a hurry. “Then what can’t you decide on? Maybe I can help.”

  “I can’t decide if I like you better this way or as a wolf.”

  “State your preference and I’ll be happy to oblige.” He’d do handstands and somersaults, too, if it would get him what he wanted, which was his cock buried up to the hilt between her silky thighs.

  “I don’t want you to shift now.” She reached out and grasped the very part of him he was most happy to have her hold on to. “That would take too long.” She caressed him.

  At her touch, his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. “That’s verra nice, verra nice indeed.”

  “You look happy.”

  “Every inch of me is overjoyed, especially that part you’re stroking right now.” He caught her wrist. “But if you’re not careful, I’ll become a little too happy, and that would make us both sad.” He nibbled on her fingers before tugging gently on her wrist. “Lie down for me, lass. I fancy a tumble.”

  Laughing, she unfolded her legs and slid down beside him. “You fancy a tumble? That sounds as if you’re about to throw me down on a pile of hay and flip up my petticoats.”

  “What a picture.” He rolled on top of her and quickly braced himself on his forearms and knees so he wouldn’t crush her as he’d done the night before. “I wouldn’t mind trying that someday.” He leaned down and kissed her, long and thoroughly, before lifting his head to see the effect of that kiss. Her flushed skin and rapid breathing told him all he needed to know. “We’d have to find a pile of hay, though.”

  She ran her hands lightly up and down his back. “And I’d have to wear petticoats.”

  “Aye.” He moved between her thighs. “With nothing on underneath.”

  She quivered beneath him. “Sounds…rather scandalous.”

  “But rather necessary. Otherwise, I canna do this.” Holding her gaze, he thrust deep.

  Her breath caught and her pupils grew large and dark. “Note to self.” She gasped again as he drew back and shoved home a second time. “Nothing under petticoats.”

  “At least when I’m around.” He began a slow, steady rhythm, and a hum of pleasure rose unbidden from deep in his throat.

  She clutched his hips and lifted to meet each stroke. “And when you’re not around?”

  “A nicely fitted chastity belt would do fine.” He smiled to show her he was teasing. Sort of. Not really. He didn’t want to think of another male being where he was now.

  “I see.” She smiled back.

  He was afraid she did see…that he was besotted and aching to claim her. And he could not, for more reasons than he could count, if he even had the ability to count right now, which he didn’t.

  But he could do this…. He could love her with all that was in him, and hope that she knew that what he couldn’t say, what he couldn’t promise, was still there, hovering just beyond his reach. Maybe someday he’d find a way to grasp it.

  In the meantime, he’d gaze into her blue, blue eyes and watch the climax building there. He’d glory in the heat between them, the urgency of her touch, the satisfaction of plunging into her over and over. Her lips parted and she arched upward, her body asking silently for more.


  He shifted slightly and began to pound faster.

  “Yes.” She clutched him tight as the ride became wild, wilder than any he’d known. “Oh, Duncan, yes. Yes!”

  “Ah, my sweet lass. My Kate.” He watched the fire in her eyes as she came, and then he let her witness the fire in his as he spilled his seed within her. He could not say the words, but he thought she knew. Oh, yes, she knew.

  What they would do about it was for another time. He kissed her tenderly, eased away from her, and then drew her, spoon-fashion, into his arms.

  She sighed and nestled against him. “So that was a tumble.”

  “It was.”

  “I liked it. Even without the hay and the petticoats.”

  “So did I, milady. So did I.”

  She slept then, but he could not. He longed to keep the dawn from breaking, because he had a premonition that once it did, their fragile relationship would come under siege. And he was helpless to stop that from happening.

  Chapter 15

  WERECON2012:

  HOWLER, WOOFER BATTLE, DAY TWO

  Exclusive report for Wereworld Celebrity Watch by Angela Sapworthy

  DENVER—At a magnificent breakfast buffet in the Stillman Lodge’s excellent restaurant, Howlers and Woofers eyed each other with barely disguised animosity as each side worked to recruit members from a sizable number of undecided delegates. But the unanswered question on everyone’s minds remains—where are the two leaders of these rival organizations? All attempts to reach them on their cell phones have gone unanswered!

  This reporter was able to catch a brief moment with newly elected president Howard Wallace to get the inside scoop on the dynamic duo. “I told them to isolate themselves in order to craft a mission statement that would apply to the entire group, including Howlers, Woofers, and those who are neither,” Wallace said. “Apparently they’ve done that. I look forward to seeing the results of their hard work.”

  When asked about reports that a blond and a black wolf had been seen on the ski slope at a very late hour, Wallace seemed unfazed. “If it was MacDowell and Stillman out there, they may have needed some fresh air. Whatever they required to get the job done is fine with me.”

  Rumors are flying, however, that the Howler and Woofer leaders may have a closer relationship than their followers would like! This reporter caught them sharing a cozy moment and a joke in the hallway when most other delegates were attending vital conference sessions. Early this morning, Howler sympathizer and council member Jake Hunter was overheard implying that something was going on between MacDowell and Stillman.

  Yet when asked about his suspicions, the gallant Were refused to comment. In this reporter’s opinion, a refusal to comment speaks more loudly than words. As the minutes tick by with no sign of MacDowell or Stillman, the evidence mounts that we’re not getting the whole story!

  But never fear, Sapworthy’s here! Watch this spot for breaking news, or follow me on Sniffer @newshound as I sniff out the truth!

  Kate woke up with a start, glanced at the clock, and groaned. “Let’s roll, Woofer. We’re late.”

  In the bed beside her, Duncan lifted his head. “What time is it?”

  “Eight thirty. We’ve missed the breakfast buffet, but we might just make the opening session if we hurry.” She slid out of bed and combed her hair back from her face. “You’d better head down to your room. We’ll each get ready faster that way.”

  “Aye.” He climbed from the opposite side of the bed, yawned, and stretched his arms over his head. “I didn’t think I’d sleep at all, but I must have drifted off.”

  He was awe-inspiring, with the body and chiseled features of a Grecian god, except for the slight stubble on his chin, which made him all the more real and adorable to her. As she looked at him across the expanse of the rumpled sheets, she wished with all her heart that they had nothing to do but hop back into that bed and spend the day there. Or shift and run in the snow, as they’d done last night.

  His sleepy gaze fixed on her. “I don’t know what today will bring, but whatever happens, I will be thinking about…” He gestured toward the bed. “About the beauty of what we’ve had.”

  She was surprised by the sudden lump in her throat. “Maybe it’s not over.”

  “It’s not over, lass. But we might be in for some rough sledding today.”

  “We might.” She took heart from his assurance that this wasn’t the end for them. They didn’t have time to discuss it, but he wasn’t leaving until the next morning. Time had not run out, not yet.

  “I’ll get out of your way. And I’ll see you downstairs.”

  “Right.”

  He started out of the room, giving her an excellent view of his tight buns. “Oh.” He turned back and caught her ogling. His smile was pure masculine satisfaction. “That will sustain me through the day.”

  “I suppose now your ego will swell to twice its normal size.”

  “Nay, but if you keep looking at me that way, another part of my anatomy definitely will.”

  “Get out of here, Woofer, before we both get in trouble.”

  “I will, but I wanted to mention about our blogs. I said something last night, but you were too preoccupied with my book and condom story and you didn’t hear me.”

  She laughed at the memory. “What did you say about our blogs that I totally missed while I was reading about your first condom adventure?”

  “I think it would be excellent if we each posted up something in support of the mission statement, without saying what it is, of course. It’s Howard’s decision when he wants to reveal it. But we can do some advance promo and encourage our followers to greet it with an open mind.”

  “I won’t have time before the opening session.”

  “Neither will I, but I’ll do it as soon as I get a break.”

  She nodded in agreement. “Sounds good. I’ll do the same.”

  “Good. Go jump in the shower. I’ll be gone once I throw on some clothes.”

  She hesitated, unwilling to end what might be a last moment of intimacy between them for hours. Hurrying over to him, she gave him a quick kiss. “For luck.”

  He smiled and gave her a return kiss. “For the wisdom to navigate this day.”

  “Yes, that’s probably better than depending on luck. See you soon.”

  “Aye.”

  She turned from the bedroom doorway and headed for the shower. This long good-bye could go on forever, and they couldn’t afford the time.

  “Don’t forget to turn your phone on!” he called from the living room.

  “Okay, thanks!” She’d left it in her bedside table drawer, shut off as Howard had requested. Pulling it out, she clicked it on, tossed it on the bed, and went in to take the quickest shower in history.

  She’d just stepped out and grabbed a towel when her phone rang. A sixth sense told her it was Duncan, although she had no reason to believe he’d be calling her so soon. The readout confirmed it.

  She pushed the button and held the phone to her ear. “Miss me already?”

  “We’ve been seen.”

  “Seen? When? By whom?” Her gut churned.

  “I don’t know who saw us, but somebody noticed us running on the ski slope and reported it to Sapworthy. She sent out a Sniff sometime during the night, and her first dispatch of the day implies that something’s going on between us.”

  “But she has no proof.”

  “No, it doesn’t sound like it.”

  “If the Howlers and Woofers think we’re sleeping together…”

  “Aye. It would affect our credibility, the mission statement, everything.”

  “Then we’d better be more antagonistic to each other, both in person and on our blogs. We can’t let anyone suspect that we—” Are falling in love.

  “No, we can’t. I wanted you to have a heads-up.”

  “Thank you. See you down there in a few.” She disconnected and put a hand to her stomach to try to calm the churning inside. A run through the sno
w was not the same as having sex, and no one had seen that happen.

  She and Duncan had been given a tough assignment, so what was so terrible about deciding to shift and take a run through the woods to clear their heads? She knew the answer. It wasn’t the run that would raise eyebrows. Everyone would be thinking about the shifting that had to take place prior to the run, shifting that could be done only after removing all their clothes.

  They might be leaders of rival organizations, but they were healthy young Weres with normal sexual appetites. No one would believe that stripping down to shift, and shifting back to that naked state, all in complete isolation from the rest of the delegates, was done platonically. And their suspicions would be absolutely correct.

  She had several purple Howler shirts, and as she pulled on a clean one, she wondered what sort of reception she’d get from her followers. She didn’t feel that she’d betrayed the cause, but they might. In her mind, coaxing Duncan to explore his Were nature could reap benefits in the long run, but that might look like a rationalization to others.

  Still, she thought his beliefs had been affected by their experience together as wolves. He’d dismissed Were sex as no better, and possibly lesser, than Were-human sex. Surely he didn’t feel the same way this morning.

  The whole thing was a complicated mess, though, and she wasn’t sure how much understanding she’d find among her constituents. She wouldn’t accept all the heat from this, either. Howard had thrown them together to come up with that doggone mission statement.

  A little voice told her that she should have refused the assignment. If Howard had insisted on having Duncan involved in writing it, then some other Howler could have filled in. Giselle, for example, or even Jake…no, not Jake. Duncan and Jake would have come to blows if they’d been forced to work together.