Reaching for his cock, she lapped at it, enjoying the mixture of her cum and his.
“Enough, woman.” Rick grabbed her under the arms, pulling her over him. “Now we talk.”
“What do you want to talk about?” She glided over his body, allowing him to situate her so she draped over him.
The scent of their sex drifted in the air around them, the rich odors intoxicating her. The way Rick lay underneath her, powerful muscles pressing against her, those chocolate eyes gazing at her, made her feel special, wanted.
“Tell me about your pack. I want to know why you were running.”
That was the last thing she expected him to say. Her breath caught in her throat, while she searched for the easiest way to tell him what he wanted to know. Nothing came to mind. The sordid truth was all she had to share.
Rolling off of him, and shoving her hair over her shoulder, she sat facing him. Something dark hovered in his gaze. A menacing truth hit her, bringing clarity to her fogged senses. Rick was pack leader. Power and domination were his way of life. He would take what he wanted, and discard what didn’t matter to him. Pure alpha male—born and bred.
She needed to say something. “I told you I am running from my pack.”
Her comment was hardly satisfactory. His look told her as much.
“And is anyone chasing you?” Even lying there, relaxed and satisfied, he looked dangerous. His penetrating gaze, the firm set of his jaw line, his expression calm, yet serious. He looked like he could spring without a moment’s notice, taking action on anything she said.
“Not that I know of.”
He watched her, weighing something. She sensed it. No hostility or anger floated around him. But she detected something. Her heart started to race.
“What do you know?” She couldn’t figure it out, but the calmness around him bothered her. “Why did you bring all of this up?”
Rick sighed. Leaning forward, he took her arm, pulling her to him when she would have stood. “Tell me why you ran.”
His tone left no room for argument.
Maybe she should cuddle into him, latching on to him while she whispered the sordid truth to him. But she couldn’t explain everything to him like that. Not sure of how he would react, she needed space, wanted to see his expression while she shared the truth.
She hopped off the bed, the cold floor slapping against her feet. No matter how she organized the story in her head, she could think of no good way to start. Walking toward the bathroom door, and then turning, seeing him watch her, she knew all she could do was state the facts and pray he didn’t put her out for it.
“I’m running from my pack because I didn’t like the mates they chose for me.” Her heart pounded in her chest, watching him digest what she’d just said.
Blood rushed through her so fast the room began to spin. Calm breaths did nothing to stop the ringing in her ears. His gaze darkened, while he moved slowly to the edge of the bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, naked, his body firm, muscular, powerful, he watched her, his gaze never wavering.
“Mates?” His eyes grew so dark they were almost black. Hints of gold appeared, her only warning sign that emotions swarmed through him enough to stimulate the change.
“Yes.” She choked on the one word. “You see…” It dawned on her that they faced each other naked, yet no sexual desire lingered in the air.
The predator sitting across from her on the edge of the bed, muscles appearing a bit larger than a moment before, filled the air with domination bordering on anger. She didn’t know how to share her story without sending him into a pure rage.
“Yes?” He sounded a bit too calm. The calm before the storm.
“We are lunewulf, purebred. Our breed of werewolf is endangered. My grandmother, our pack leader, devised a pack law to insure our breed would survive.” Just thinking about how warped Grandmother Rousseau’s plan was turned her stomach. Sharing the information with Rick made her feel inadequate, less appealing.
Fighting for words to continue, she realized she paced, the room suddenly feeling too small. Rick stood, making her stop in her tracks, and walked naked to the windows, closing the blinds.
“Go on. Tell me about this pack law.” He faced her, crossing his arms over his powerful chest, dark downy hair distracting her while she stared at his well-defined muscles.
She could turn and leave the room. He didn’t have her trapped. But she didn’t want to run from him. As much as she wished she could keep the terrible truth from him, the best thing to do would be just to say what he wanted to know. And pray he wouldn’t be repulsed with her—with her breed.
“Pack law says that every female will have three mates. There will be three dens, the female providing cubs for each of her mates.”
Fury poured out of him, the glint in his eyes making them glow. She took a step backward, in spite of knowing he wouldn’t harm her.
“And you have three mates?” His words were garbled. He was fighting the change.
She nodded. “I haven’t actually mated with any of them,” she hurried on to say. “And that is why I ran. I wouldn’t have any part of it.”
There. The ugly truth was out. Straightening, she refused to look away from him, even though his gaze bordered on dangerous. Tension rippled through the room, a good part of it coming from her.
“Their names.” Rick broke eye contact first, suddenly looking quite torn by the knowledge.
“What?” He wouldn’t go seek each of them out and challenge them, would he?
“Tell me their names.” His growl left no room for argument.
Swallowing, she wanted to ask what he would do with the information, but decided it best not to question him right now.
“George Ricard. Frederick Gambo. Johann Rousseau.” The list where she had first seen those three names appeared in her mind. That day, so long ago, when she’d first learned of her three mates, seeming like yesterday.
Rick moved in on her, larger than life. Every instinct inside her screamed for her to run. But she didn’t dare move. She wouldn’t cower, wouldn’t let him see her fear. There was nothing to fear. If he suddenly despised her because of something she had no control over, then she would leave his pack with her head held high. She had done nothing wrong.
His calloused fingers raked over her skin, barely touching her at first, then gripping her arms. He lifted her, pressing her against the wall behind her. She fought to control her breathing, her heart pounding so hard it hurt.
“Johann Rousseau?” His face was inches from hers. His breath fiery hot against her face. “Your last name is Rousseau.”
“Rick. There are several dens with the name Rousseau. I guess we are related somehow…a distant cousin of sorts.” His arms trembled, or maybe she was the one trembling. “I haven’t mated with him, or any of them. You took my virginity. You know that.”
He lowered her, slowly. “Yes. I know that.”
Muscles twitched in his chest. The spiciness of anger radiating off of him made breathing difficult. He fought for control, the way he simply stood there, inches from her, holding her arms. She didn’t understand what demon he fought. There was no reason to be this outraged. She had run. That in itself proved she wanted nothing to do with the matings or the pack law.
The phone rang downstairs. The extension next to the bed chimed in half a ring off. Once. Twice. Rick stood there, not moving.
“It could be important.” She moved and he didn’t stop her, walking around him to the phone.
Before she could pick it up and say hello, Rick headed to the bathroom. The water for the shower started a few seconds later.
Chapter Seventeen
Rick was unusually quiet the rest of the evening, and even the following day. Something she’d said disturbed him more than she’d anticipated, but he didn’t appear willing to talk about it.
Not to mention the fact that phone calls and pack members stopping by made a private conversation impossible. After talking to Rocky on the pho
ne, Elsa hurried to answer the door.
“Got your car ready.” Lyle turned away, heading back to his truck.
“Thank you.” She hurried out after him. “What do I owe you?”
But the older werewolf climbed into a truck with another werewolf she didn’t recognize, and drove off. She stared at her car, backed into the driveway, with four new tires on it.
Rick bought me four new tires?
Walking around her car, admiring how much better it looked with new matching tires on it, she wondered at the man who continued to baffle her with his actions. Pack business had kept him fairly busy last night, but she’d noticed how preoccupied he’d been. Then this morning, like the other mornings, he’d been gone by the time she woke up.
And now she stared at four new tires, not a cheap gift. Maybe he regretted investing the money in her now that he knew three werewolves lay claim to her.
But I don’t want any of them.
Did she want Rick? And what did it say about her if she wanted a werewolf after knowing him for only a few days, but turned down three werewolves she had known most of her life? Maybe I just know a good thing when I see it.
Grinning, she hurried back inside to grab her purse, deciding she would take her sharp looking car for a ride.
The diner had its usual smell of an array of foods cooking. Rocky looked busy waiting on a den at one of the tables. A further glance around the room and she noticed Ramona sitting at a booth, a man she didn’t know sitting across from her.
If you really want Rick, you will have to challenge her. She’d never challenged anyone in her life. Fighting another werewolf to the death, laying claim to the title that werewolf possessed, was an age-old tradition. The thought didn’t appeal to Elsa, but questioning the tradition would do no good. Ramona held the title of queen bitch, and there was no other way to gain the right to mate with Rick.
Walking over to the counter, so she wouldn’t look like a fool standing in the doorway, she wondered how someone challenged another werewolf. Sure she’d heard the gossip of challenges happening in other packs. The news flew quickly how the terrible fight would result in one of them dead. Details of the bloody battle lingered around the gossip pools for days.
No one ever mentioned how the challenge began. Did the two werewolves discuss it over coffee? She doubted it. Maybe one of them lay in wait until the other went on their nightly run. That might be a possibility. But she didn’t even know where Ramona lived.
It wouldn’t be that hard to find out. She glanced at Rocky, rushing to get orders back to the kitchen. Ramona probably lives with Marty—they are of the same den.
“Hello?” Samantha giggled. “Girl. You were out there. What were you thinking about?”
She had no idea when Samantha had sat down beside her. The realization that pondering the challenge had consumed her that much freaked her out. Her stomach knotted while heat flushed over her cheeks.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?” No way did she want to tell anyone where her thoughts had been. Not yet at least.
“All I said was you look lost in thought.” Samantha looked pretty this morning with her light blonde hair gelled perfectly so strands of hair dipped over one eye. “I bet I know what you were thinking about. Or should I say who you were thinking about.”
She grinned, hoping she appeared coy. “I’ll never tell.”
Samantha chuckled, then reached for the pot of coffee sitting in front of her. Offering Elsa a cup, her expression sobered. “I heard about what Ramona did to your tires.”
Elsa shrugged. “They’re fixed now.”
Glancing past her, she watched Samantha look through the large window toward the parking lot. “That’s good. She’s a real bitch. You know she admitted doing it.”
She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what gossip might be flying around about her. More than likely, the entire pack knew about her now. If she left, that would cause even more talk. Maybe it would be safer to stay, and lay her claim on Rick.
Maybe that’s what your heart wants too.
The smell of sweet perfume filled the air around them. Samantha turned, curling her lip. Elsa didn’t bother to look over her shoulder to see who stood behind her.
“I thought I made it clear that none of the bitches in my pack associate with this slut.” Ramona’s high pitch just about curdled Elsa’s blood.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you want me to do.” Samantha straightened her long, thin legs, looking ready to pounce off her stool on a moment’s notice.
Ramona’s heels clicked on the floor behind Elsa. She gripped her coffee cup, willing herself to remain calm. Fighting in public was so low class. But dammit if the urge to change just enough to swipe her claws across that woman’s face didn’t sound mighty appealing.
“You better be careful, Samantha.” Ramona’s hiss filled with pure venom. “You’re a stray we were kind enough to let into our pack. But I can run you out of town if you start lingering with trash.”
“You better move on then, so I’m not seen with any trash.” Samantha wasn’t going to back down. Her anger almost drowned out the smell of Ramona’s nauseating perfume.
Ramona’s chuckle sent icy chills down Elsa’s spine.
“Keep talking to me like that, and I might think you want to challenge me.” Ramona moved to the counter, leaning next to Elsa. “No one else in this pack has the nerve to do it.” She reached out, brushing Elsa’s hair behind her shoulder. “Or are you just passing through, enjoying a good fuck before you move on.”
“Why you…” Samantha jumped up.
“Samantha, no.” Elsa hurried to her feet too, needing the distraction so she wouldn’t bite Ramona’s fingers. “She isn’t worth fighting with.”
Samantha stopped, meeting her gaze, her expression softening with understanding. “You’re right.” She sat, crossing her arms over her chest.
“How dare you listen to her when you ignore me.” Ramona’s squealing tone had returned. She stomped her high heel on the tile. “She has no rank in this pack. I do. You better remember that, Samantha.”
Elsa couldn’t believe the stupidity this woman possessed. It took every bit of strength she possessed not to lay a hand on her and wring her puny neck.
“You disgrace your pack, Ramona.” She whispered her words, knowing already they had drawn some attention to them. There were humans in the diner, although she hadn’t checked to see where they sat. “How dare you carry on like this in public. Your rank should be honored. You have a duty to be an example to others, not humiliate them.”
Ramona stared at her, not smiling. Her brown eyes looked smaller with the heavy black eye liner surrounding them. Without a word, she turned to leave the diner. But just when Elsa exhaled, wishing the whole ugly scene had never occurred, Ramona spun around, an evil glint in her gaze.
“I simply can’t understand why your pack wants you back so bad.” She took a step forward, strutting around Elsa instead of toward her. Eyeing her from head to toe, she licked her lips. “As ill-tempered as you are, I would think they would say good riddance.”
She didn’t say a word. Not a damn thing came to mind. Her heart began racing, a cold sweat breaking out under her sweatshirt. Ramona couldn’t possibly know anything about her pack searching for her, could she?
“Your pack mates sure weren’t happy to hear you were shacking up with our pack leader.”
The room slowly began spinning around her. Ramona’s laughter seemed to be coming from every direction. She reached out, grabbing the counter, needing its solidness to hold her up.
Terror gripped her, but she had to ask. “What pack mates?”
“Now, let me think.” Ramona tapped her long pink fingernail against her lip, a sickening smile appearing. “Frederick and George. That’s it. Have you ever fucked two werewolves at once, little bitch?”
Elsa’s mouth went dry. Blood rushed through her while the urge to change and run as fast as she could consumed her.
Ramo
na’s laughter filled the diner. She turned, once again headed toward the door. Opening it, she looked over her shoulder, appearing very satisfied with herself.
“Of course I told them you were here. I wouldn’t be surprised if they are in town already, looking for you. And the reward money they have on your head. I’m going to be a very rich woman.” Her perfume lingered when the door closed behind her.
The smell of it made Elsa’s stomach turn.
“What was that all about?” She didn’t realize Rocky stood next to Samantha until she turned, noticing the two of them watching her. Concern covered their faces.
“Nothing. Shit.” She was going to be sick. “I need to go.”
“Elsa. Wait.”
But she couldn’t wait. Her pack knew where she was. They wouldn’t care about this pack, about who they stepped on to get to her. She had to get out of here. Now.
Chapter Eighteen
Rick didn’t mind working with humans. They were a harmless lot really. Talking to the foreman at the lumberyard, listening to him laugh while he shared a story about his son, he realized how attached he’d become to this community.
Moving his pack wouldn’t be easy. Not only would he have to reestablish contacts, gain a reputation in another community as a good carpenter, he would miss the camaraderie of this town.
The older human finished his tale, slapping Rick on the back. “Looks like they got your order loaded. We’ll talk to you again real soon.”
“Sure will.” Rick headed toward his truck, the wood needed to build the back deck he’d been contracted to do over at the Olsen’s loaded down in the back.
This job would take up most of the week, making it hard to search for a new location before the next pack meeting. But he needed the extra money. He’d spread word this morning over breakfast at the diner that they would more than likely have to pull together all of their savings. He knew Harry took it the hardest. The older guy had done well with the diner he’d bought right after the pack moved here. Rick hated the sad understanding in the old werewolf’s eyes.
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