“Everyone,” she choked out, “thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Aw, honey, I’m a good judge of character,” Luella said as she stood and picked up her dirty dishes. “You’ve had a rough life, and I can tell just by reading your eyes that you want a new start and a good, solid home, so you’re aces in my book.”
Tears drizzled down Daffodil’s cheeks. Helpless, Phil took a clean napkin from a nearby holder and dabbed at her face and wiped her chin. “It’s okay, baby. You’re with us now. You’re safe and we’ll all love you.”
The tears turned into a flood, and sobs erupted from Daffodil.
Panicked, he tightened his grip on her. “Fuck, babe, I didn’t mean—”
“Phillip,” Luella admonished him sternly.
He snapped his gaze up to meet Luella’s. The MCs she-wolf only used his full name when she wanted to his attention for something important.
“Her soul is healing,” Luella told him with a gentler tone, “so let her heal it.”
He nodded and hugged Daffodil as she gradually quieted against his side. If he couldn’t make the assholes in Daffodil’s past pay for what they’d done to hurt her, then he’d take it out on Ezra and then some.
Chapter Sixteen
Later, after Frank called the men together and held church, Bernadette stood in the corner of the screened-in porch until the taillights of Phil’s pickup made the bend in the community and vanished. She wished Phil had stayed at the MC with Daffi, but she understood their need to be alone, to get to know each other.
Something was afoot tonight. Something moving in the shadows, watching from…somewhere. Bernadette detected it in the air, smelled it in the wind that slipped in through the doors when someone came and went.
Power brewed on the wind. A strong magic. A magic fueled by fury.
She shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her upper arms, but the action did nothing to warm her or rid her of her anxiety.
“Babe?” Frank said behind her. “What’s wrong?”
“Something isn’t right.” Her worry accumulated in her mind like a thunderhead. “I’m concerned about Phil and Daffi alone at his cabin.”
“You warned them about what you’re sensing tonight, didn’t you?” Frank rumbled and placed his warm hands on the rounded sections of her shoulders.
“I did, but I’m not sure if Phil took me seriously.”
“I bet he did, but he didn’t want to frighten Daffodil any more than she already is.”
His reasoning made sense, and she nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“It’s late, baby.” He squeezed her shoulders, sending her comfort, his palms hot through her light sweater. “Let’s go to bed.” He nuzzled her neck, nibbled the spot behind her right ear, flicked the backside of her earlobe. “I’ve missed you, and I sure as hell don’t want another dream like I had last night only to wake up with some crazy hell chick giving me a blowjob, so why don’t you come to bed with me and make me forget about all that?”
She pressed her ass back and nestled it against his crotch. Frank rewarded her with a needy groan.
“Do that again and I might bend you over that recliner,” he warned.
She pushed her ass back a second time, then wiggled it.
“Woman, you’re playing with fire.”
“I’d rather play with your cock,” she countered.
“Then take your ass in the direction of our bedroom.” He spun her around and swatted her butt to get her moving.
Laughing, she threaded their fingers together and walked with him through the house and upstairs.
In their bedroom, Bernadette crossed to the bed as she tugged her sweater up and over her head and Frank kicked the door shut behind him. She tossed her top to the floor, then turned the bed down. Before she could straighten and unfasten her jeans, Frank hooked his arms around her and nipped her nape. He then unfastened her pants and shoved them down to her knees. He bent her over, followed by the sound of him unbuckling his belt and the whoosh of his zipper.
“What are you—?”
He penetrated her, and she cried out at suddenly being full of his cock as well as the rough, unexpected entry. Pleasure soared through her core. She lowered herself onto her forearms on the bed, pushing her ass up and out at him.
“Fuck, woman.” Another groan escaped Frank. He placed a hand on either of her hips, his fingers biting into her flesh, exciting her further. “You have the most gorgeous ass I’ve ever seen.”
“Shut up and fuck me, Frank,” she ordered and pushed back on his cock.
A deep growl burst from him and he began thrusting, the power of each movement jolting her arms until they gave out on her. Bernadette braced herself on one shoulder, but Frank hauled her up again so she could lean on her hands. Each time he drove home, his cockhead brushed her cervix and her pleasure ratcheted higher and higher. She couldn’t get him deep enough, hard enough. She wanted more of him, her cries growing steadily louder.
He continued to pound into her. “Baby…you feel so… fucking good…”
The pat-pat of his crotch slapping her pussy quickened. The coil tightening inside Bernadette continued clenching, and tingling swept through her pussy and down her inner thighs.
“Frank,” she wheezed, “I’m about…” Desire corkscrewed through her lower abdomen, and for an instant, she couldn’t form any further words. “Almost…mmm…there.”
At that, he stiffened. He let out a satisfied yell, then pulsing warmth coated Bernadette’s passage. The sensation shoved her off the edge. Her orgasm crashed over and through her. She bucked backward, taking Frank by surprise, and he thrust three, four more times, milking the last of himself into her.
He stood there for a moment, then withdrew and flopped to the bed next to Bernadette. “I can’t seem to get enough of you,” he said.
“I hope you feel that way ten or 15 years from now.” Panting, she rolled to her back, her jeans and panties still around her ankles. “I’m surprised the newness hasn’t worn off by now.”
“With humans, perhaps, but wolves mate for life and so do lycanthropes, plus they need their mates sexually, just like needing air or food.”
“That’s good to know,” she replied.
“And that’s why you crave me, because something in you spoke to me as a mate.”
She nodded with a smile. “Yeah, Luella explained that to me a while back.” She rose and pulled off her panties and slacks. “I’m going to shower.” Winking, she walked butt-naked into the private bathroom.
* * *
When Frank didn’t join her in the shower, Bernadette knew something was wrong. She finished with her bath, then quickly toweled herself. Clean sweats and a matching shirt provided something easy for her to slip on. After running a brush through her hair, freeing it of all the tangles, she tied it back in a loose ponytail, stuffed her feet into her loafers and left the bedroom in search of her mate.
In the kitchen, Luella stood at the coffeemaker adding grounds to a filter for the house’s late-evening pot. She glanced over at Bernadette and frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Have you seen Frank?” Worry poked at her. “He left without telling me.”
“He grabbed his jacket and flew outside,” Luella said and dropped the filter into the brew cup. “I just assumed he’d forgotten something in his pickup or in the workshop.”
“Okay, thanks.” Bernadette brushed past her.
“Did something happen?” her friend called behind her.
“That’s what I’m going to find out,” Bernadette hollered back.
She borrowed one of Luella’s heavy cardigans hanging in the coat corner and, before she had both arms into the garment, she pushed out into the chilly night air.
“Frank?” She stood a few feet away from the porch and listened. “Frank? Are you out here?”
A gust of wind struck her and she turned her head away from its cold kiss. The aroma of wintertime hung heavily in th
e night air. She looked skyward. Galaxy diamonds winked and sparkled, the image so vivid and defined that she took a moment to admire the stars before she headed toward the workshop, where mounted security lights showed the way.
Inside the shop, she found only darkness. Her worry mounting, Bernadette left the building and strode toward the back of the house, passing pumpkins and clusters of gourds, hay bales and clusters of cornstalks with which the women had decorated the lawns, stoops and the perimeter of the two porches. There, in the center of the backyard, stood Frank. She hurried toward him, but the sounds coming from him halted her in her tracks. He dropped to his knees and howled long and low.
“Frank!” She sprinted across the rest of the lawn and knelt beside him. “Are you okay?” She gripped his chin and turned his head toward her. He stared back at her from a face half-transformed. “What is causing this?” she asked.
“Stress,” he slurred.
“Stress from what?”
“I need to…talk to you about…something,” he garbled around the canines descending from his gums. “You might not like it…might not want to be with me…anymore.”
“What is it?” She kept a firm grip on his face. Panic claimed her, its grip almost mind-numbing. “Tell me now, Frank.”
“I want to turn you, make you a lycanthrope.”
Bernadette blinked. Why was Frank so worked up about asking her to become a werewolf? She regarded him as the half-moon above shone brightly in his eyes. She knew this was no lighthearted matter, but to keep his desire to himself for so long didn’t make sense. “This was what was bothering you?” she finally questioned. “This has obviously been eating at you, babe, something important to you, so why couldn’t you ask me sooner?”
“A born lycanthrope goes through painful changes, but for a person who is turned, it’s a thousand times worse.” He shut his eyes and wrestled with the shifting process. “For you, it would be excruciating.”
“I thought you and Luella were seeing each other on the side,” she said. At his stunned expression, she rushed on, cutting him off. “Luella explained to me that wasn’t the case, that you had something significant to tell me but it wasn’t bad. I guess this is it?”
“Yeah,” he panted. “But if you would do this for me, it is bad. I feel horrible for telling you. I have no right to ask you to go through so much pain and confusion just to become lykoi.”
Bernadette kept eye contact with him until he began to calm and the beast receded. In moments, Frank’s face looked totally human and his canines receded. He fell back onto the ground and lay with his arms splayed out.
“The pain of transforming is indescribable,” he said as he stared up at the sky. “Youngsters, ones from about 16 to 21, deal with lykoi hormonal changes, which makes puberty difficult, but when a lykoi starts to mature and that sexual drive kicks in, especially for males, we have to use an elixir to help battle it or some youngsters can cause big problems by killing livestock, family pets, or worse, go rogue.”
“The stuff Miranda makes and blends with her honey,” she stated.
He shot her a startled look.
She smiled. “I’ve seen Deputy Williamscot take it into the workshop, and I’ve heard the women discuss the Stellarmi boys in the community.”
He bobbed his head. “You’re right. Those boys are going through the maturity stage of being a lykoi. The testosterone does a number on us at that age. I want you and I to be mates in every way, and it will make it easier for us to have lykoi children”—he glanced over at her, then looked up at the stars again—“but I didn’t feel I had the right to ask you to go through that.”
“Frank, you could have discussed this with me long before now.” She lay her palm on his hastily buttoned shirt front. “I’ll have to think about this, learn more about the pros and cons, but I’m not saying no just yet.” She shrugged. “Who knows? I might decide to let you turn me, but for now, I need more information.”
“Really?” He sat up suddenly, the lights from the back windows illuminating his incredulous expression. “You’ll consider it?”
She leaned over and kissed him on the tip of his nose. “I love you, Frank. We’re mates. Of course I’ll consider it.” She pecked him on the lips. “But I want you to promise that if I decide to remain human that you won’t be mad at me. I understand disappointment, but please don’t be angry with me. I wouldn’t want this to affect our relationship.”
“Deal.”
Frank pounced on her and bore her to the ground, slipping his hand behind her head to cushion it. Grinding his hips into hers, he ravaged her mouth, plunging his tongue past her lips. Desire coiled in her pussy and spread inward to her core. She bucked against him, wanting him inside her.
“I can’t wiggle out of my sweatpants,” she gasped against his mouth. “You’re pinning me.”
“Let’s take this back upstairs,” he replied, raising his head. “Although I would like to make love to you under the stars, it’s too damn cold to have my ass hanging out.”
Bernadette burst into giggles.
* * *
The ride to the cabin had been silent. Phil left Daffodil to her thoughts as he maneuvered the country roads down to the Little Muskingum. He wished it was warmer. With the clear night sky and the half-moon, tonight would be a beautiful night to ride his Harley with Daffodil on the passenger pinion. She sat quietly and stared out the passenger window at the darkness, her breath hitching once in a while.
He made the turn up the hill, the truck bouncing all the way, then turned onto the lane to his home. The cabin’s security lights glowed warmly through the nearly bare trees, and he kept his attention on the twinkles of illumination as they pulled into the drive. He parked next to the porch.
“Got your stuff?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
He got out, then helped her out before leading her up to the front door. The wind roared around the house, blasting the driveway and buffeting their jackets.
“Oh!” Daffodil turned her face away from the gale. “I bet this winter will be horrible.”
“Seems like the weather of late is a warning of that, doesn’t it?” he replied. “Hell, at this rate, we might even have snow by Halloween.” He helped her up the steps, unlocked the door storm door, then held the screen while she entered. Once inside, he said, “Why don’t you put your backpack in the bedroom and I’ll make a pot of coffee—or would you rather have something stronger?”
“Coffee sounds good,” she replied as she strode toward the bedroom.
He couldn’t keep his gaze from zeroing in on her shapely ass incased in tight jeans. His leggy blonde had gorgeous sticks, and they went all the way up to a stellar back porch swing that aroused him so quickly that his cock was straining against his zipper in seconds.
“Down, boy,” he said and attempted to adjust himself.
He’d just hit the Start button on the coffeemaker when Daffodil walked into the kitchen. “Can we sit on the sunporch?”
“It’s probably super chilly out there, but there’s a small pot-bellied in one corner of it. I can build a fire and warm up the room.”
“I’m going out there to wait for you. I’ll grab that afghan on the back of the sofa and wrap up in it.” She sashayed out of the kitchen.
Again, his gaze found her ass. And his cock awakened for a second time too.
“You don’t listen worth a shit,” he said, staring down at his pelvis. “That’s okay. Neither do I.”
Phil rummaged in the fridge for their snack and decided on chunks of cheddar cheese and some ranch dressing as a dip, then made a note on the dry-erase board afterward to go shopping for groceries tomorrow. The coffeemaker beeped. He poured two cups of brew, placed them on a tray he’d taken from under the kitchen island and followed them with a plate holding the cheese cubes and dip.
He found Daffodil curled on the old, ratty love seat where he dozed on the sunporch during hot, lazy evenings. On the stand next to her, he set down the tray. He paus
ed long enough to caress her cheek. She stared up at him with such wonder that something clenched his heart. He turned and focused on gathering kindling and newspaper, and fishing his lighter out of his pants pocket.
For the longest time, Daffodil sat quietly as he built the fire. Once he got the paper lit, he shut the door and opened the draft. Within seconds, the kindling caught and began cracking and snapping. Soon, he added larger pieces of wood, then shut the door again so the draft could draw air and rev up the flames.
The scent of wood smoke and dust permeated his nose. Tingling gripped it and he sneezed.
“Bless you.”
He stood and smiled down at her.
She patted the spot next to her, and he sat so that she could snuggle into his side.
“Do you have family?” she asked with her head on his shoulder.
“No, my parents were killed in an auto accident.”
“Aw, were you very young?”
“No,” he said. “I was a teenager. They left me this place and I found the Werewolves of Rebellion around the same time. The rest is pretty much history.” He slipped his arm farther around her body and drew her closer. “To be honest, I’ve lived a quiet life for the most part. Frank’s clan is a good one, and I wouldn’t trade my time with his MC and the community for anything. What about you? Got sisters? Brothers?”
“No, it was just my mom and me, but a biker beat her to death when I was about 12.”
Stunned, he sat quietly for a time. “Damn, baby, I’m sorry. Were you there when it happened?”
“Thankfully, no. For the longest time after, I kept expecting Mom to walk into our room, hug me, tug on my pony tail like she always did”—emotion broke her voice, but she recovered quickly—“and tell me she’d brought me some gum or a candy bar, but she never did.”
“You never got any closure, did you?”
She shook her head.
“Can you speak Russian for me?” he asked. “I love it when your accent shines through.”
“No. Sadly, I can’t recall any of it. I remember Mom talking to me in our native language, but now, when I try to recall the words, it’s jumbled in my head with her accent.” She suddenly looked so forlorn. “I’ve always dreamed of returning to my homeland to visit. Maybe reconnecting there would help me know who I really am.”
The Devil's Russian Beauty Page 17