by V. Vaughn
Brindle
Winter Valley Wolves, Volume 1
Violet Vaughn
Published by Violet Vaughn, 2015.
Copyright © 2015 by V. Vaughn
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by Croco Designs
Editing by Jodi Henley and Red Adept Publishing
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Brindle – Winter Valley Wolves | Book 1
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
Brindle – Winter Valley Wolves
Book 1
Katie Winslow made a life-altering decision the night of senior prom. But once she realized what she had become, Katie wanted nothing to do with her new state. Running off to college seemed like a good idea until mating season hit. Now the fever to reproduce is so great she can’t think straight.
Brindle Lindholm has his true mate locked in forever. If only Katie would come to her senses and accept that they are meant to be together. Mating season has come, and he knows Katie has to be suffering in heat. Brindle is the only one who can satiate the need, and even though his heart will have to stand the rejection that is sure to follow he knows he must go to her. When their coupling satisfies more than sexual need it changes their future, forever.
CHAPTER ONE
I watch hot coffee soak through my notebook in the pile of things I just dropped. “Mother of all that’s holy!” I quickly grab my essay that had fluttered down next to it. The one that’s due in five minutes. I shake the stapled pages, hoping the brown liquid will somehow fall off without staining, and warmth splashes my face and arms. “Piss on a pretzel!”
“Is that really what you want me to do?” His voice makes tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up and take notice.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I deeply inhale the intoxicating scent of male musk. My sex-o-meter siren blares. Of course it does, because crouched next to me is the guy who’s the source of my current predicament. I glance up at his face that’s inches from mine. “Brindle.”
“Katie.” After we stand, he hands me the coffee cup he retrieved. “There’s a little left, and it looks like you need it.”
It’s mating season, and I’m so horny I’m a raging lunatic. Snatching the container from Brindle’s hand, I sneer at him before downing the contents, which scald my esophagus.
“Heat’s a bitch, isn’t it?” He flashes me a smile full of teeth.
I glare and take in his appearance. Gone is the lanky, clean-cut guy I dated in high school. Now Brindle’s got a Thor thing going on with his pumped-up physique and overgrown hair. My gaze scans downward. I bite my lip as he chuckles.
I snap my attention back to his face. “You got your braces off.”
Now he’s grinning so hard his eyes are slits. “That’s what you noticed?”
I turn away from him to continue walking to class. “You really don’t want to mess with me right now.”
Brindle steps to my side and crowds me against an old oak tree. He is well over a foot taller than I am, and the bark pokes into my back as I shrink away from his towering height. He places a hand above my head and one on my hip to press his erection against my belly. I gasp as my body responds.
His voice is a low rumble. “I want to do more than mess with you. And you want me, too. You can’t help it.”
I do. My chest heaves as I will my body to stay under control. My nipples are hard, and my core is quaking with need. I close my eyes and try to block my nose from his scent by breathing through my mouth. “Don’t.”
Brindle releases me and allows distance between our bodies, but he’s still hovering. He speaks softly. “Tell me, have you tried screwing other guys to satisfy your hunger? Doesn’t work, does it?”
No, it doesn’t. And I’ve done more than try. Hot shame flushes my cheeks as I recall the night last weekend with the lacrosse player whose name I didn’t even bother to learn. I duck under Brindle’s arm to get away. “I can’t do this right now. I’ve got to get to class and turn in my paper.”
“Fine.” He points toward the student union. “I’ll be there when you’re done.”
I have no doubt he will. Cold March wind blows around me as I power walk to the lecture hall. I’m purposely leaving my coat open, hoping the chill will alleviate my overheated state of arousal. We’re werewolves, and Brindle is my mate. I kick myself every day about that decision. Apparently, he was right that it was a lifelong commitment I wouldn’t be able to avoid. Even though I haven’t seen Brindle in more than six months, every cell of me is screaming to be with him right now.
The front door is about to shut behind another latecomer, and I slip through to enter the building. My footsteps echo in the stairwell as I jog up to the second floor. When I get to the hall, I meet Mr. Bellow’s glare as he approaches the classroom from the other end of the building. “Miss Winslow, nice of you to join us today.”
He’s referring to the fact that I cut class all last week while I was learning to deal with my first season in heat. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have liked me humping a chair. “Sorry, I’ve been sick.”
“Not a luxury you can afford, Katie.” He holds the door for me as I pass by. “I hope your paper’s done.”
Yeah, so I’m about one point away from failing political science, a class I should be acing considering I want to be a lawyer. I grimace as I hand him the coffee-stained assignment. “I had a little accident on my way.”
Mr. Bellows is a stern man I would love to hate, but the truth is my D is not his fault. I’m not happy at Lakeland University, and my grades reflect it. I’m surprised to see kindness in his eyes when he says, “You look a little flushed.” He places his hand on my forehead, and I flinch at the contact that makes my horndog howl. “I think you still have a fever.”
Lie, Katie. Lie to the moon to get out of this, because the fact you want to do the horizontal mambo with this dude is so wrong. “I do, but I really don’t want to fail this class.”
“I’ll mark you here for today if you go straight to the health center.”
I hang my head in relief, but I pretend it’s resignation and speak in a small voice. “Thanks.”
I make my way to the bathroom to buy some time before I leave the building and have to face Brindle. Water rushes out of the nozzle as I wash coffee off my hands. I glance at my face in the mirror. While it’s redder than usual, I don’t look like a nymphomaniac, so there’s that. How the heck am I going to get through another seven weeks of this?
I recall the deep discussions Brindle and I had that led to him turning me and making us mates. I was so in love, I wanted to be part of his world. But he made me wait until the end of mating season because he was afraid of how my body would react. I thought he was joking when he said I’d want sex with him more than air to breathe.
I pound the hand dryer button in frustration, and it blasts at me. Of course, I didn’t believe that being a werewolf would be that different, either. I was so stupid. The force of the dryer pushes my skin away from the bones of my hands, and the distortion reminds me of shifting.
I can’t put this off any longer. Brindle’s waiting, and
I have questions. I shove my way out the bathroom door and pound out my frustration with my steps. By the time I get to the student union coffee shop, I’m sure of two things. I’m going to continue to keep my werewolf ways dormant, and I’m not going to sleep with my old high school boyfriend no matter how good he smells.
CHAPTER TWO
The snack bar in the student union is off to the right past the entrance. When I get there, a girl’s high-pitched laugh makes me look in her direction, but I already know what I’ll find, because the odor of my mate captured my attention the moment it wafted out to me when I entered the building. Brindle is at a table in the corner behind her. I ignore him while I get a large coffee and contemplate a cinnamon roll the size of a dinner plate.
The brunette behind the counter lifts up the dish and holds it toward me as she says, “Do it. They’re really good. Especially if it’s one of those kind of days.”
“It totally is. I’ll take it.”
The aroma of dark roast tempts me as I pour cream in my coffee and grab two forks. Now that I have a distraction from the yummy scent of Brindle, I think I can have a lucid conversation, and I weave my way through tables toward him. The guilt of abandoning him bubbles to the surface as I do. We were supposed to get married last fall, and I planned to go to college in Winter Valley. I know I broke his heart, and the memory softens my mood.
I set the pastry down between us with a thump, as if it’s a peace offering. “Hey. Did I mention it’s nice to see you?”
Brindle places his arms on the table and leans in close. “You didn’t have to. I can smell it.”
So much for a civil conversation. I sigh. “Let me make something perfectly clear. I’m not going to sleep with you, okay?”
He sits back and crosses his arms across his substantial chest in a way that makes his biceps look steroid large. “So you’re going to try to feed the hunger with sugar, caffeine, and frat boys?”
“No frat boys. They—”
“Don’t satisfy you.” The smirk on Brindle’s face is gone, and he uncrosses his arms to pick up a fork.
I shake my head because I don’t want to get into my current sex life with my ex-boyfriend, but I need answers. “Why is that?”
Brindle shrugs and stabs the cinnamon roll with his fork to tear off a piece. “I think only your mate can satiate you during mating season.”
“But you don’t know for sure, do you?” I break off a piece of pastry, too.
“Nope, because mates don’t usually leave each other.” Brindle chews as he stares at me.
Way to stab me with guilt. “I made a huge mistake having you turn me. How many times do I have to apologize?”
“Unfortunately, sorry doesn’t cut it. We can’t reverse this.”
And now he’s turning that knife to make sure it hurts. When I shifted for the first time, I lost it over what I had become. I tried to come to terms with being part of the Winter Valley wolf pack, but all I could think about was how I was a freak. I couldn’t tell my parents what I had done. I realized I didn’t want to marry Brindle, so I did what I thought was right. I left for college a couple hundred miles away. “Do you really want me to be with you when I don’t want to?”
“No.” He sets down his fork, and it clatters against the glass plate. His face looks concerned when he says, “I didn’t come here to get you back. I came to help you.”
I snort. “Help me?”
“You’re going through hell right now because you’re in heat. And I’m told that it’s only going to get worse until you mate.” When I don’t say anything, he adds, “With me.”
Fabulous. The only way to stop thinking about sex twenty-four, seven is to sleep with the guy that reminds me what a mess I’ve made of my life.
Brindle reaches over and puts his hand on top of mine. The moment he touches me, my simmering lust ramps up to a rapid boil. “You can pretend you hate me all you want, but it’s impossible to fall out of love with your mate.” He winks at me. “Besides, it won’t suck.”
No. It most definitely won’t. I recall how amazing sex was when I was first turned during mating season last year, and even afterward, Brindle and I used up condoms as if they were candy. I turn my hand so my palm touches his, and the electricity of our connection flows through me. “No. It never did.”
Brindle smiles. “Well, there was that one time.”
I smile back because we were each other’s first, and it was awkward. But we were so in love, nothing else mattered. “Not even then.” I pull my hand away and pick up my mug of coffee. “I don’t hate you.”
“I know. You just hate what you’ve become.”
Tears prick my eyes. I do hate what I’ve become. I can’t seem to make friends, and I’m so lonely. My grades are awful, and I go through the motions each day, knowing I’m always going to fight my werewolf urges, trying to fit into the human world I voluntarily left.
When a tear rolls down my cheek, Brindle’s chair scrapes across the floor as he moves closer to me. “Shhh.” He pulls me against his chest, and he turns us so his body blocks me from the view of other patrons. I latch on like a girl drowning. I let myself cry but stop when I’m about to start sobbing loudly.
Being held feels wonderful, and my senses are giddy with everything Brindle. Any plans I had for abstinence are gone. When I pull my head away to glance up at him, his lips beckon me. But I’m afraid if I kiss him, I won’t stop, so I continue on up to his eyes and say, “My roommate moved out. Help me?”
He lets out a sigh that makes me think he’s sad, too, but then he strokes my cheek, and I shudder. “Lead the way.”
My dorm is less than a quarter mile from the student union, and our feet move quickly along the pavement. “How did you find me?”
Brindle hikes his bag up higher on his shoulder. “I drove to campus and followed my nose.”
A breeze blows by us, and I detect the odor of butter and onions from the cafeteria. I glance over at him and find him grinning. “Really?”
“Can’t you smell me?”
There’s no mistaking my mate’s scent, and it definitely calls to me from a distance. I inhale and sigh at the pleasurable smell of Brindle. “Yes. But I’m not sure I would rely on it to find you.”
“That’s because I’m not in heat. If I was, you’d know when I was within a mile of you.”
He leans down and sniffs my neck before his tongue flicks out. The roughness sends a jolt through me that threatens to be the final straw, and I hiss, “Mother of all things holy. Stop that.”
“You’re a live wire, aren’t you?” He shows me a mouth full of teeth with his grin.
I fumble for the key to my dorm. “Yes.”
My hand is shaking as I try to unlock the door, and Brindle chuckles. I snap at him. “This isn’t funny.”
“Sorry.” He walks toward the elevator.
Bad idea. The image of me tearing off his clothes to get what I need is strong, and I don’t think I could handle being in an enclosed space with him right now. I turn to the right. “Stairs. They’re faster.”
I jog up, and I’m panting by the time we get to my door. Brindle grabs my keys to let us in as I pull off my jacket and unbutton my pants. Once we’re inside, I reach behind his head and yank him down to kiss him with a fierceness that bruises both of us.
His mouth tastes like coffee, sugar, and the wolf I desire the way an alcoholic craves a drink. Somehow, we’re both removing clothing as we try to satiate my thirst. I wrap my hand around his cock and am about to guide it into me when I remember birth control. “Condom.”
Brindle releases me and squats down to his bag on the floor to rummage in the pocket. I reach down to my wet folds and finger myself, hoping to release some of the pressure. I beg, “Sweet Jesus, hurry up.”
I glance down at him, and he looks as though he’s about to pounce. Our gazes lock, and my name rumbles low from his throat as he almost growls. In an instant, my thigh is lifted up in the air, and Brindle thrusts into me with enou
gh force that I fall back against the door. I relish the pounding. My orgasm is moments away, and it practically breaks out of me as I scream.
I’m blinded by my pleasure and barely register that Brindle came, too. With legs like jelly, I slither down to the floor, and he lies down next to me and asks, “Help?”
While my climax was wonderful, my ache for sex hasn’t faded. “No.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “What’s wrong with me? I can hardly move from that, but I feel as if you left me hanging.”
“It’s the condom.”
“No.” But I remember when I was getting ready to be turned, Brindle’s older brother, Bern, explained mating season to us. He said the point was to create future werewolves. It makes sense a condom wouldn’t work, because it blocks semen from reaching its target.
I reach down and remove the prophylactic from Brindle as I say, “Bareback it is.”
I’m too focused on my need to do anything but toss the condom aside and climb on my mate. He’s not quite firm, so I slither my juices over his cock until he’s hard enough to enter me.
I feel my wolf strain to get out, and a low growl escapes from my throat when I fill myself with Brindle. He grips my ample hips and says, “That’s it. Give it to me, baby.”
His fingers dig into my flesh as if he’s hanging on for the ride, and I give him all I’ve got as he continues words of encouragement. I throw my head back and lose myself in my supernatural power. Ancient howls sound in my head like the wind, and every nerve of me is on fire, ready to explode.
The quake starts in the base of my belly and spreads through my abdomen. I’m close, but I need Brindle’s hot seed to complete me. I say, “Tell me you’re almost there.”
“Let go, Katie.” He moans and jerks up into me as I fall into the depths of my bliss. It seems to go on forever.
I collapse on top of the slick skin of my spent mate. “How about now?” he asks.
“Uh-huh.”
“Can you move?” His fingers comb through my hair as he moves it off my face.