Her Pack

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Her Pack Page 14

by Candace Wondrak


  Maia never would’ve been so bold before. Here, with these wolves, she felt…free. She felt free to do and say what she wanted, and it was amazing.

  Plus, the awesome sex never hurt anyone, either.

  “I would be the world’s biggest liar if I said I did not,” Farkas spoke, a weird mix of uncomfortable and turned on, if she could judge the way he over-enunciated each word and the outline that was forming in his pants.

  Knowing what she was about to do was wrong, but wanting to do it all the same, Maia reached behind her and unhooked the bra, letting the fabric fall to the floor as her breasts bounced free. “What about now?”

  “Now,” Farkas whispered, “you’re really killing me, Maia.” He moved closer, though he did not step into the changing room. He leaned against the wall beside the door, hiding his hard-on from anyone who should walk back. No one was around them. The old shopkeeper was in the front of the store, answering a call. Wolf hearing came in handy.

  Her lips curved into a smile as she went for the buttons on her pants. What in the world had gotten into her? This was Farkas. Farkas. Goofy, silly, clean-cut Farkas who was entirely different from each and every wolf she’d known.

  But maybe that was why. Maybe it was because he acted more like a human than a wolf.

  Or maybe after the events of last night, Maia was feeling a little outgoing, a bit impatient, and a whole lot of horniness. Yeah, it could be that, too.

  Within a minute, she stood before Farkas wearing nothing but her panties. Maia was greatly enjoying watching the outline in his pants harden into a telltale erection. He might’ve been smaller in size than Alarick, but when it came to his manhood, he was able to stand on his own.

  “Maia,” he said her name again, this time nearly growling it out. A reflective shimmer flashed over his eyes, a sign that his wolf fought to break free. Her name was said as a warning, meaning if she didn’t cease and desist right now, all hell might break loose.

  Maia’s fingers toyed with the straps of her panties, drawing along her lower hips. Shimmying her hips, the only small bit of fabric she wore fell to the ground. Bring on the hell. She was ready for it.

  With a glance over his shoulder, Farkas stepped into the changing room, kicking the door closed behind him with his foot. He dropped the bundle of clothes he carried, about to rush to her side, sweep her into his arms and hopefully do unspeakable things to her before the old lady came back, but he made it only one more step before he froze, realization dawning. “Ah, clever girl. I see what you’re doing.” He cracked his neck. “This is a test, isn’t it? Well, I’m not going to fall for it—”

  The urge to slap him surfaced. What kind of twisted test would this be? What kind of man could ever pass a test like this? Maia wondered. She might’ve been a murderer, but she wasn’t this sick.

  As Farkas bent to pick up the clothes, she went to him, pushed him against the wall—very glad that three of the changing room’s walls were actual walls and not just plastic partitions—and gave him a charming smile that would win anyone over, especially a male wolf with an erection. “This isn’t a test, Farkas,” she whispered against his neck.

  Farkas tensed up, still too nervous to put either of his hands on her. He stood there, like a doll. As if an attractive female wolf wasn’t naked in front of him, coming onto him. Come on.

  “My teachers would be so proud of me,” he strained to say, refusing to look at her. “Wait, I didn’t have teachers, because I didn’t go to human school—”

  She set a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her, and before he could go and say anything else to further embarrass himself or ruin the moment, Maia brought her lips to his, silencing him.

  The bastard didn’t kiss her back.

  “Farkas,” she spoke against his lips, “why are you being so difficult?”

  “Tempt me all you want, vixen, but I will not break.”

  Maia sighed at his dramatic-ness.

  “Maia,” Farkas whispered her name, moving to grab her arms and hold her a foot away from him, “I heard what happened last night. I will do whatever I have to do to show you that I’m not like your ex-mate. I won’t be douchey, refuse to be a jerk, and no matter how tempting you are, I will not make myself an asshole.”

  It took every ounce of willpower she had not to smack his hands off her and yell at him—because how could he be so freaking stupid? Ugh. Men couldn’t take hints, even if they were clear as day and as obvious as an elephant walking through the street. Instead, she tried to calmly smile and say, “That’s nice. Really. So nice. I’m drowning in niceness over here, but this is not some kind of weird test, Farkas. Right now, I want you, but the more you keep talking, the more I want to bash that pretty face of yours in.”

  A little extreme, but he had to understand it now, right? It wasn’t a stupid test.

  “Meanie,” he said, his grip on her arms loosening, though he did not release her completely. His eyes fell, measuredly drawing their way up her body, lingering on her curves and on her most intimate places. Places that were currently dying to know what his hands felt like. “Are you…sure this isn’t a test? Absolutely, one hundred percent sure? If I—if we…I’m not going to regret it, am I?”

  “I think you’ll regret it more if you don’t come here and kiss me,” Maia said. Shopkeeper lady was still on the phone in the front of the store; it sounded like she was looking through some catalogue as she jabbered on about sizes and prices and possible alterations to the dress the client wanted. They had some time.

  Farkas’s tense shoulders relaxed, and his hands were slow to move down her arms, gliding to her waist, pulling her closer to him. “Hmm…as long as the record states that if this is a test, I fought it until the teacher convinced me it wasn’t.”

  Maia chuckled. “How many times do I have to say that it isn’t—” She could say not another word, for Farkas had leaned down and smothered her with his lips. He was a far different kisser than Alarick. His lips moved against hers slowly, tentatively, almost as if he was afraid of coming off as too possessive, too domineering.

  As their passion grew, Maia knew they had to make the best of their time. It sounded like the shopkeeper was finishing up her call, which meant she’d make her way back here. Common sense told Maia that it wasn’t enough time for wolves to do their thing, even while in their human forms, but she was too needy. She had to have Farkas here and now, and no damned old lady was going to stop her from getting her fill.

  Maia’s hands went to his pants, finding that Farkas wore a belt—a frigging belt. What man under thirty these days wore a belt? Once she overcame the confusion and slight amusement at realizing he wore a belt, she undid its buckle and helped him out of his pants. Just the important bits, really, because they didn’t have enough time to touch each other’s bodies and exchange passionate sweet nothings like she and Alarick had the night before.

  As she ran a hand along his hard, thick length, she felt her thighs tremble in anticipation. Not once in her life had she ever expected to fuck in a dressing room, but here she was. Here he was, in all his glory. Here they were, against all odds, about to fuck in a dressing room.

  Farkas spun them so they were in opposite positions; Maia against the wall and he on the outside. He broke their lip lock to ask quietly, “Are you sure?”

  She stared into the depths of his hazel eyes, knowing that if she said no, if she told him right then and there to stop, he would. Farkas would stop, even though the wolf inside would want to continue, even against her will. Maia thought it so strange, so odd that she trusted this pack, these wolves, these men, so quickly and completely.

  “Yes,” Maia answered, nodding once.

  He needed nothing further, hoisting her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist as Farkas pushed inside of her. She let out a short exhale, a soft moan, careful to not be too loud, for after last night, she’d learned that she was a loud one when it came to sex. All the shouting and moaning and crying out�
��it was usually her, with a grunt or two from Alarick.

  This was made so much dirtier, so much more forbidden, because they were in a public place and on a time crunch. Farkas was more than up to the challenge, for he pounded into her with gusto, his hard cock sliding in and out of her with no resistance. His nose was buried into her neck, soft grunts escaping his throat with each particularly deep thrust.

  Maia’s mouth fell open, how badly she wanted to cry out, to tell him to go harder, faster, but that was the exact moment when someone decided it was a good time to come back to the dressing room area.

  Little old shopkeeper asked, “Where’s Farkas?”

  She could see the woman’s shoes beneath the changing room’s door. Farkas stopped for only a moment, his cock still hard and fully inside of her. Maia swallowed, doing her best to sound normal and not like she was pressed against the wall, doing the nasty in a public place, “He went to the bathroom, I think.”

  Her voice was a little breathy, but not bad. It could be due to rapidly changing outfits instead of the wolfish dick inside her.

  “Oh, my,” the old woman said. “Do you need my help until he gets back?”

  Farkas gave Maia a smile as he slowly began to thrust again. Maia responded by digging her nails onto his back. It would be doubly more difficult to speak as he moved his hips, which was what he was hoping for, she knew. The bastard.

  “No,” Maia practically cried out. The word sort of came out like an orgasmic shout, to which Farkas stifled a laugh against her throat. “I mean, I can handle it.”

  “Okay, well, if you need anything before he gets back, don’t be afraid to shout for me.” Humming, she spun on her heels and walked away, back into the store where there was plentiful clothes racks and shoe boxes galore.

  Once she was far enough away, Maia hissed, “You jerk.”

  Farkas spoke in a whisper, “Would you like me to stop?” As he asked it, his thrusting did not stop. If anything, the speed picked up, which made answering him extremely difficult.

  “Not if your life depended on it,” she said, grinning.

  Who knew picking out clothes could be so much fun?

  Chapter Twenty-Four – Alarick

  Violet’s gaze was icy, and Alarick supposed he couldn’t blame her. “You’re bringing in that chick who practically body-slammed me to try to run away from you?” Today, her purple-dipped hair was in a ponytail, her mouth frowning. “Do you want to be the center of town gossip for the next year—or at least until someone else new stumbles into town?” She let out a gruff, annoyed sound as she grabbed the plates under the warmer.

  The diner was mostly empty, save for their regulars. It was nearing eleven, which meant the lunch rush, as much as anyone could call it a rush, was about to start. The two tables occupied had ordered a late breakfast. Or a brunch. Or whatever it was people called it.

  “You know what? Never mind. You’re the golden child,” Violet added. “Fine. Bring her in, but I reserve judgement. She seemed weird when she was in here. If she gives me a hassle, I’m putting the brakes on her and reserving the right to fire her.” She headed around the counter, balancing the trays as she went.

  “You can’t fire her,” Alarick called after Violet. “You’re not the boss. I am.” Seemed a silly thing to say, but apparently it needed to be said. After all, he was not going to fire Maia. Violet would just have to learn to get along with her.

  Violet only shrugged as she served the customers their omelets and eggs. The middle-aged women at the table across the walkway pulled her aside, chatting about her hair and if she ever changed colors, would she start to go by another name instead of Violet.

  Alarick chuckled, glad to not be in that conversation. He should’ve known not to think the thought, because from the other side of the kitchen, Roy called out to him, “So, I take it the run was good, eh? Had to be, if she’s sticking around.” He whistled, though he was missing a few teeth. Something from all that chew he’d done in his life, a bad habit Roy could not break, even at the detriment of his health.

  Keeping an eye on Violet to make sure she wasn’t about to turn around and head back into the kitchen or behind the counter, Alarick said, “It was. She’s…she said she’s staying. I hope she doesn’t change her mind.”

  After what they did last night, how could she possibly change her mind? Alarick couldn’t say, and he honestly did not want to think about it. Sure, it wasn’t a claiming in the official sense—that would have to be done while they were shifted—but it was the next closest thing. Surely it meant as much to her as it had to him.

  “You like her, don’t you?” Roy asked, about to lean on the warmer, but he stopped himself, instead crossing his arms over his grease-covered apron. “Do the others like her, too?”

  It was strange, at first, talking to Roy about this stuff, but as the years went on and Roy had kept his promise, kept their secret to himself, Alarick found himself growing fonder of the man. Now, he couldn’t imagine his life without his chef, and not only in the diner sense. Sometimes Roy provided a good third-party view on things.

  Alarick nodded.

  “Wow,” Roy muttered. “Even Grimm?”

  “I think so, yeah.” Alarick didn’t think; he knew. Even if Maia wasn’t a wolf, Grimm would at least like the way she looked. The man always had a thing for redheads. It was his one weakness when it came to women, though it wasn’t as if he would ever admit it aloud. He hadn’t given into a woman in a long time. He wondered if Grimm would give into Maia if she came to him with the same condition she gave Alarick last night—no wolves involved. No official claiming.

  “Then she has to stay,” Roy said. “She has to like you lot, otherwise she never would’ve went running with you. Your little pack can be complete.”

  He held in a chuckle, because he knew Maia liked him well enough. Just the thought of the night before sent his muscles spasming and his mind racing. He wanted to run and find her, have her again. She was addicting in the absolute best way, a living drug that he would never be able to deny after knowing what she felt like, how loud she moaned.

  Maia couldn’t leave after that. If she did, he might break. He could not lose her, and he would do everything in his power to make sure that she never fell into the claws of her ex again.

  “Now I ain’t saying she’s going to fit in here, because to fit in at the diner, she’s going to have to get along with Violet, and that girl is…” Roy trailed off. “She’s a bit hard to get along with. Rough around the edges.”

  Violet and Maia getting along was the one thing Alarick worried about. Roy hit the nail on the head. They would all just have to wait and see what happened when Farkas and Maia showed up.

  Almost as if they’d heard his thoughts, the front door to the diner opened, and two people walked in. Farkas practically bounced with each step, grinning like an idiot as he greeted the seated customers with a wave and some small talk. Behind him, Maia was slow to enter, taking in her surroundings before following Farkas to the counter in the back. Near the table with the women, Violet’s back straightened, and she practically glared at Maia the whole time. Maia, luckily, ignored the glare. The last thing this diner needed was a catfight between a human and a wolf.

  As both Farkas and Maia walked around the counter, Alarick said, “Come on, I’ll get you a nametag.”

  “Ooh, a nametag,” Maia said with a full smile. “So it’s official.” Beside her, Farkas continued to grin like an idiot. Fitting enough, because that’s what he was more than half the time: Farkas the Idiot. The talkative, silly village idiot. Everyone loved him though…

  When Alarick moved into the backroom, where his desk sat, cluttered with papers and bills for the diner that he had to pay this week, he stopped. Breathing through his nose, he spun to view both Maia and Farkas, huddled into the small room. Why hadn’t he noticed it the moment they walked in? No wonder Farkas acted so jubilant, so thrilled and happy and excited, like a kid in a candy shop.

  There was n
othing kid-friendly about what they did, though.

  “Well, well, well,” Alarick spoke, flicking his blue gaze between the two. “What have we here, hmm?” He wanted to drag it out of them, make one of them say it because it was nothing to hide.

  “Don’t look at me,” Farkas said, earning a mock glare from Maia. “I thought it was a test. I would’ve said no, but she was adamant—”

  Sensing that Farkas was about to spew a hundred words per minute, Alarick said, “Get out there and make sure Violet doesn’t come back here.” His stare was heavy on Maia as he said, “I’d like to give the job interview alone.” Okay, he tried his hardest to sound funny and cool sometimes, but he wasn’t Farkas. His mind was not a thesaurus, so most of the time when Alarick tried, he only sounded stupid.

  Farkas let out a sigh, rolling his eyes in the most dramatic way possible. “Fine.” Still, there was pep in his step as he left the office, pulling the door closed behind him.

  Maia leaned over the desk, only two feet away from Alarick. So close he could smell her perfectly. Her scent had been mingled with his this morning, but now there was something new to it. A familiar scent, one that mostly smelled of the body spray Farkas liked.

  “What a mess,” she commented, grey eyes scanning all the papers. Filing was not Alarick’s strong suit, nor was not eating her up with every look, apparently. Maia no longer wore the pink and white dress, her lean frame in khakis and a plain t-shirt. The shirt hugged her ample chest, and the khakis…while they would’ve looked ugly on anyone else, the khakis fit her legs perfectly, following the curve of her backside without a single wrinkle.

  Alarick felt the urge to make his desk cleaner by sweeping his arm across it, laying Maia atop it, and having her rough and fast like an animal, but surely someone would notice. Or Violet would walk in, since she knew how to pick the office’s lock. So he didn’t; he held back, despite the semi-hardening of his cock.

 

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