“What’s wrong?” Elsa scooted over to Rocky, wrapping her arm around her shoulder.
Samantha’s gut clenched, guessing Rocky’s secret before she shared it. Simone’s perfume dominated over the other scents in the room, but she thought she detected a more earthy aroma around Rocky.
“My guess is you’re pregnant.” Simone still smiled. “Your emotions will go crazy for a while. But don’t worry, honey. A little wine won’t hurt anything.”
“You don’t get it.” Rocky looked up, snapping at Simone. “Marty has all of these plans. Our house won’t be done until the spring. And he and Rick have discussed so many other projects they want to do with this land. All of it will take money. They will both kill me if they find out I’m pregnant.”
“You’re wrong, Rocky.” Elsa soothed her friend, stroking the curls from her face. “Those two will be more excited than cubs to learn that our pack is growing. We will be on this land for the rest of our lives. They will always have projects lined up.”
Rocky looked up with a glimmer of hope.
“So you haven’t told anyone?” Samantha asked.
“No one. Well, not until now.” Rocky looked at her, smiling through her tears.
“Well, congratulations!” Simone raised her bottle in the air. “And at least you know that your werewolf will be happy with the news when you tell him he will have a cub.”
Samantha stiffened. She knew Simone implied Johann wouldn’t have wanted to know he was going to be a father.
“You’re not being fair,” Elsa scolded Simone. Obviously she caught the implication, too. “You never even told Johann he was going to have a cub.”
Simone sighed, plopping down on the bed and running her hand down the back of Samantha’s hair.
“You’re right.” She took another sip of the wine, then handed it to Samantha. “But it wasn’t the same. Johann and I were never in love. We both ran wild with our pack. You remember, don’t you, Elsa?”
Samantha didn’t take a sip, but watched over the bottle as Elsa nodded.
“I always envied you for being able to do what you wanted.” Elsa made a face. “Grandmother always kept me under lock and key.”
“There were days when I wished someone would have kept a closer eye on me.” Simone sighed. “But that was a wild time. We were all young. And I admit that I ran with more than one werewolf. I knew the cub was Johann’s, but worried that he wouldn’t believe me. So I left the pack.”
“Why did you seek him out, then?” Samantha knew her voice sounded cold. She glanced at Simone, who seemed to watch her carefully. She looked down at her hands, aching to hear the answer, but not sure she wanted to know the truth.
“Time had passed.” Simone sounded gentle.
She didn’t want to hurt her. Samantha sensed that.
“Jere had a right to know her father, and Johann had a right to know he’d sired a cub.” Simone stood up, walking around the women on the floor and staring out the window into the darkness. “I didn’t realize Johann would be so possessive though.”
“What do you mean?” Samantha stared at Simone’s back, hoping Johann didn’t plan to make Simone his mate out of duty. Her heart clenched at the thought. She stared at Simone’s highlighted hair that fell over her shoulder blades, her narrow waist accented by her snug jeans. What werewolf wouldn’t want her?
Simone turned around. “He won’t let go of Jere. I can go where I want, but he will keep Jere if I leave.” She shrugged, looking sincerely sorry. “I guess you are stuck with me.”
A wave of relief flushed through Samantha. But she glanced at the other women around sitting around her. “Johann can’t forcibly take Jere from you, can he?”
“Pack law can be grossly antiquated.” Elsa made a face.
“She’s right,” Simone nodded her head at Elsa. “My past is spotted, to say the least. I was a slut.” She raised her arms in an exaggerated shrug. “Just ask anyone from my old pack. If Johann wanted to use that against me to take Jere, he could find grounds to do it.”
“I don’t think Johann would do that. You’re a good mommy.” And Samantha meant it. She’d never known Johann to be as coldhearted as Simone suggested.
“I’m glad you feel that way.” Simone moved across the room again, sitting down carefully on the edge of Samantha’s bed. “I have a feeling you and I will be spending a lot of time together in the future. Johann isn’t going to let either one of us go.”
Chapter Eleven
Samantha rolled over in her bed later that night, muted voices coming from downstairs tickling her ears. By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, the hushed voices had her attention.
She strolled into the living room, noticing the empty bottle of wine on the coffee table. Simone lay sprawled out on the couch, her shirt untucked and her feet bare. Johann sat at the end of the couch, looking distracted but not drunk like Simone. Elsa sat across from them, her knees pulled up to her chest.
“What’s going on here?” she asked, glancing from one of them to the other.
“Ding dong. The witch is dead.” Simone sang the familiar tune while wagging her finger in the air.
“Don’t be so disrespectful.” Johann slapped Simone’s leg, and then stood to face Samantha.
“Ouch,” Simone cried out in an exaggerated tone. “Don’t play the righteous one, Johann. No one liked her. And you know it.”
Johann ignored her. “I got a call a couple of hours ago,” he told Samantha. “Grandmother Rousseau had a heart attack. She’s dead.”
Samantha nodded, noting he didn’t smell sad. She glanced passed him at Elsa. She had rested her head on her knees, staring blankly.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said.
Elsa looked up at her, her expression serious. “We must look like an odd lot of mourners. But you have to understand. We all ran from her, but she raised us. She gave my sisters and me a home after our parents died. She helped Simone with her schooling. And she was our pack leader all of our lives.”
“And now she needs a proper funeral ceremony.” Johann turned from her, heading toward the kitchen. “I need to get some sleep.” He touched her cheek, his rough fingers sending a tingling through her body. “We’ll discuss this more in the morning.”
Samantha watched him head toward the stairs.
“He’s leaving, you know.” Simone’s comment caught her attention.
“What?” Samantha felt her gut clench. “What do you mean?”
“Simone. You’re out of line.” Elsa stood also, stretching.
“You know he is in line to be pack leader. Do you think he will pass up that opportunity?” Simone picked up the empty bottle of wine, realized it was empty, and put it back down. “He is going to go take on our old pack. And he will take Jere with him.”
“Is that what he said?” Samantha turned to look at the empty staircase again, suddenly having the urge to hurry up to his room and demand the truth.
“No. He didn’t say that.” Elsa hurried to reassure her.
“He said they want him to return and be the new pack leader.” Simone stretched out on the couch. “He won’t say no.”
Samantha had heard enough. If Johann was leaving, she needed to know now. She turned and headed toward the stairs.
“Samantha, wait.” Elsa was queen bitch, and Samantha honored the title.
But she couldn’t wait. She turned, facing Elsa in the dark kitchen when her friend approached her. “I’ve waited long enough, Elsa,” she said quietly. “He takes me as a mate now. Or he never will.”
Elsa stared at her for a moment and then simply nodded. “Be quiet about it. You know Rick’s rules about bitches being on the third floor.”
Yes, she knew. Rick could be way too old-fashioned sometimes.
She pattered up the stairs, stepping gingerly to avoid stepping on any loose floorboards. She was grateful when she started ascending to the third floor that Elsa stomped up to the second floor. Hopefully, if Samantha made any n
oise it wouldn’t be heard over Elsa.
It was warm in the hallway, and sweat prickled on her skin between her breasts. She paused in front of Johann’s door, sucking in air, building the confidence needed to confront him. Raising her fist to knock, she paused, deciding that might make too much noise. Werewolves could have annoyingly sensitive hearing in their sleep.
Her hand was sweaty when she grabbed the doorknob. She turned it before she lost her nerve.
Johann lay in his bed, the covers over him to his waist. His hands were clasped behind his head, and he appeared to have been staring at the ceiling. His expression didn’t change when she entered his room and closed the door quietly behind her.
“We need to talk.” She felt her heart skip a beat, his predatory eyes devouring her. Licking her lips, she approached his bed, and went to kneel on it.
“No.” His word made her freeze.
Her heart swelled to an unpleasant lump in her throat. Was he turning her away?
“You don’t climb into bed with me with your clothes on.”
Relief washed over her. She stripped out of her clothes, dropping them on the floor while he watched her.
Once again she knelt on the bed, noticing the covers move as his dick hardened. She wanted to wipe her palms on the comforter, force herself to be calm enough not to sweat. How enticing. Here she knelt before him, sweating like a pig.
“Why are you nervous?” He hadn’t moved, his hands still clasped behind his head, his blue eyes smoldering like a thunderhead ready to explode.
Her mouth was suddenly too dry to speak. Reaching for the covers, she pulled them down so she could see his cock, so hard, so thick and ready for her. She ran her fingers over the swollen roundness of his cockhead. His stomach muscles tightened, while muscles constricted in his chest. She stroked her fingers down his shaft, feeling his power, feeding off of his strength.
“Are you leaving this pack?” she managed to ask.
She moved closer, his heady sexual scent drawing her to him. Leaning forward, pressing her breasts against her knees, she rubbed her nose against his cock, relishing in the beauty of his sex.
“Yes,” he said.
Her heart constricted, the room suddenly too warm.
“Oh.” She didn’t want to hear him say he would leave without her. For some reason she couldn’t imagine life without him.
Putting her mouth over his cock, she relished the groan that escaped from him. His large hands cupped her head, holding her to him. She ran her hands up his chest, burying her fingers in his chest hair. If this were to be the last time she fucked him, she would make the most of it.
Dammit. She wouldn’t think about that now.
Samantha sucked his cock into her mouth, the soft velvety skin moving over the hardened steel of his shaft. She closed her eyes when his grip tightened on her hair.
“I thought you wanted to talk.” His voice was scratchy, garbled, aroused to the point where the beast in him struggled to be free.
Raising her head, lifting herself over him, she straddled him, pressing his shaft against the length of her heat.
“But we can talk later,” he encouraged, smiling, reaching for her.
“I want to go with you.” She couldn’t believe her boldness, the words out of her before she could think about them.
“I want you to go with me, too.” He didn’t hesitate in answering, his expression intent while he adjusted her over his cock.
Something broke inside of her, tension and uncertainty washing through her while happiness overwhelmed her.
“What did you say?” She froze above him, wanting to make sure she understood his words.
“Did you think I would leave here without you?” He smiled, then gripped her hips and impaled her with his cock.
“Oh, God.” She arched, closing her eyes, throwing her head back and grabbing her head. “Oh, Johann.”
She sunk down onto his cock, burying him inside her, feeling him fill her. All of her worries, her fears that he didn’t want her by his side washed through her with her orgasm.
Bracing her legs she lifted herself over him, his cock stroking her insides as she rose over him. She took control, sinking back onto him, riding his cock while she filled herself with him. Every bit of him.
“I didn’t know what to think,” she whispered, coming down on top of him.
His arms came around her, holding her to him, his heart pounding between her breasts. She moved her hips, building momentum, allowing him to appease an itch she hadn’t been able to scratch until now.
Lights seemed to explode around her even though the room was dark. His hands brushed over her, stroking her back the way his cock stroked her insides. She found his mouth, kissing him with everything she had. He tightened his grip, the muscles in his arms flexing, consuming her. She couldn’t get enough of him, riding him harder, the friction between them creating a heat that burned through her, cleansing her, lifting all of her worries.
“Samantha.” His voice sounded desperate but she couldn’t stop, couldn’t slow down.
Fire burned inside her, spreading over her. Her legs burned, the muscles constricting from riding him, but she couldn’t stop, couldn’t ease up.
“Damn, woman.” He grabbed her rear end, holding her into place while he drove into her. “Is that what you need?”
“God, yes.”
He thrust upwards, taking over, moving in and out of her faster than she had been capable of doing. Rushes of molten heat devoured her, burning her senses, branding her from their heat.
She exploded, fireworks going off around her while heat exploded throughout her body. Rush after rush of fiery moisture surged through her. His hot explosion inside her molded them together, fusing them for life.
“I’m never going to let you go,” she warned him, openly admitting for the first time what she’d known for quite a while now.
“You better not.” Johann pulled her up to him.
She slid to his side, their sweaty bodies making it to easy to glide off of him.
“Johann?” she whispered, glancing up into his deep blue eyes. Blonde curls stuck to his forehead, his expression intent as he looked down at her. “I need to know how you feel.”
He raised his hand and ran a finger down her cheek. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”
She almost couldn’t swallow. Too? As in also? Then heat flushed over her when she remembered her dream. She had told him she loved him, and then had worried that she had spoken out loud.
“You already knew how I felt,” she said, knowing now that was why she never sensed worry on him. He’d already known that he had her, that she was his.
“You’ve told me in your dreams.” He kissed her forehead, and tucked her into him. “Now sleep and dream of me some more. Tomorrow we will make arrangements to leave.”
“What about Simone? We can’t leave her and Jere here.” Samantha knew Simone wanted her daughter close to her father. And it would be nice to know someone if they were headed into new territory.
“Simone and I are from this pack. It will be no problem taking her there, too. She will be able to settle in quickly, and help you get to know everyone.”
Samantha nodded. Everything would work out. She relaxed next to him, knowing Rick would throw a fit if he learned she slept here with Johann. But she didn’t care. Never again would she be parted from the werewolf she loved.
About the author:
All my life, I’ve wondered at how people fall into the routines of life. The paths we travel seemed to be well-trodden by society. We go to school, fall in love, find a line of work (and hope and pray it is one we like), have children and do our best to mold them into good people who will travel the same path. This is the path so commonly referred to as the “real world”.
The characters in my books are destined to stray down a different path other than the one society suggests. Each story leads the reader into a world altered slightly from the one they know. For me, this is what good fictio
n is about, an opportunity to escape from the daily grind and wander down someone else’s path.
Lorie O’Clare lives in Kansas with her three sons.
Lorie welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at P.O. Box 787, Hudson, Ohio 44236-0787.
Also available Lorie O’Clare:
Lunewulf 1: Pack Law
Lunewulf 2: In Her Blood
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you breathless.
www.ellorascave.com
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