Her movements were slow, purposeful, rocking against him, drawing him deeper and deeper into a dizzying euphoric bliss. “Aw, Shel, you’re amazing. Is it good for you, Sweetheart?”
A low, sexy growl hummed from her throat, its primitive sound with the gentle rolling of her hips caused an animalistic reaction in him. He lifted his hips, driving in further, meeting her intensifying sighs. A thin shaft of light caught his eye and he realized the full moon peeked through the clouds, clear and bright.
Her fingernails dug into his chest, scraping painfully down his torso, adding a strange pleasure to his arousal. Jerome sensed urges growing inside of him, a power that he never before felt. He needed to meet her wild and furious dominance. Blindly, he grabbed her hips, keeping pace with her, pushing, frantic, insane. He could barely breathe. “Damn, Shelly.” She rode him with fierce determination and Jerome grabbed for the back of the couch to gain some control of the need building inside of him.
The couch hopped in syncopated rhythm to Shelly’s fiery ride. Jerome wasn’t sure if this was heaven or hell, but the pleasure was beyond reality. He dreamt of this and no matter what, he planned to see it through, however rough she wanted to get. He realized they hadn’t discussed protection. Shit. “Shel,” he gasped through the dryness in his throat. Molten heat poured through his blood, his climax threatened to incinerate his insides. Jerome held tight to her thighs, teetering on the brink of his climax and judging from things, so was Shel. He hoped everything would be okay, though the thought of Shel, her belly round with his child, aroused him even more.
But in his fantasy, he wanted to watch as she fell over the edge with him. He reached over his head, grappling until he found the curtain and with a final yank, pulled it down. A deep-throated growl caught his attention and his mouth dropped in horror of who…or what, straddled him. Her dark hair bounced over her shoulders, her face turned upward as she broke free, her fierce orgasm closing around him in mind-blowing ecstasy. He lost control, riding on the verge of his own release, his body swept up in a tailspin of sexual pleasure.
“Shelly?” he managed in a strangled whisper. Shelly lifted her face to the heavens and let out an eerie howl. Blinded by the heat of his searing release, Jerome dropped his head back and joined her, their cries mingled by the light of the silvery moon.
Jerome considered that maybe he’d hallucinated the whole thing. He glanced down, brushing his fingers lightly across the slashes across his chest. Either Shel was in bad need of a manicure or what happened between them was entirely real. For hours after the most amazing sex he’d ever had, he watched her sleep, trying to decide how he felt about all of this.
Her soft hair covered part of her angelic face, now void of the hair he’d seen earlier as she rode him to completion. She said nothing, but ran to the bathroom immediately and refused to come out until hours later. By then, she’d resumed her human appearance. Too sore to muster another round, he suggested they get some sleep, he wanted to hold her. She happily complied and they snuggled together until they both fell asleep. To Jerome, who’d spent all of his life appreciating wildlife, she was a masterpiece of nature. He wondered what would happen now. Could they talk about it openly? How much would she remember?
Given the strength in her she-wolf state, she could have torn him to shreds, yet aside from a few scratches, he sustained no other marks. Inside of him was a different story. He knew without question, that she’d now claimed him…literally. And frankly, he couldn’t fathom her with any other man...or beast. As surreal the thought, their greatest obstacle was not how they felt about each other, but accepting the love in spite of the vast difference in their backgrounds.
He wondered if it was too early for a drink.
A knock on her front door startled Jerome pulling him from his reverie. He pushed from the couch, zipped his jeans and stood a moment, stretching the soreness from his body. With tenderness, he draped an afghan over Shelly and glanced out of the window seeing the moon, still full in the predawn sky.
Another succession of raps, more urgent, sounded again. Jerome hesitated, curious who it could be at…he peered at the dial of his watch, seeing it was only four in the morning. He peeked through the peephole and frowned. Why the hell was Larry showing up at Shelly’s place at this hour? Unless something was wrong with Shel’s mom. Jerome opened the door. “Hey Larry, is everything—”
Without preamble, Larry shoved his body against the door, knocking Jerome to the floor. The big man strode in, his huge silhouette backlit by the light of the moon.
“What do you want?” Jerome waited a heartbeat, looked over his shoulder to check on Shelly. The blanket lay in a heap on the couch, but Shelly was nowhere in sight.
“Her mama told me that she’d gone through her change. It’s a full moon, Jerome. Where is she?”
Instinct drove Jerome to his feet, head down as he lunged for the man, and plowed him in the gut. He pushed with all his might and shoved the man back toward the door. Larry tripped and fell back, his head bouncing off the tile entry with a dull thud. Jerome scrambled to pin him and his hand ran over the smooth barrel of a gun. “What the—?” Jerome leapt atop the man, the two fought for possession of the gun.
From somewhere behind, Jerome heard a low, menacing growl. No, baby, he thought. He looked over his shoulder and met her golden eyes. She’d transformed completely, her coat black as a moonless night, the fur on her back stood on end. Her lips curled back against her teeth, bared for attack.
“Shel, not this way,” he pleaded and tried to stay calm, unsure what to expect. Would she lose control?
“Just like her mother, that one. Nothing but a goddamn tease. They work their way into your soul and then go off to make a life with another. I took care of her father and her brothers, and now I’ve come to take care of her. I’ll show her bitch mother that I meant business when I said I wanted her all to myself. Now there is only Shelly, and I want to thank you Jerome, for being a handy victim. Just like your father was handy that night I killed the others.”
“You? You killed my father?” Jerome spun his head to look at Larry. All this time he’d heard his father’s death was accidental while he protected himself from a pack of wolves.
Shelly growled just as Larry raised his gun, pointing it at Jerome’s head.
The beast’s charge sent Jerome diving off to the side. Before he got to his knees to stop her, he heard the deep muffled gurgle of Larry’s screams as the beast found his throat.
A memory, tucked deep inside his mind, emerged with the sight and sounds playing out before him, spinning with the speed of shuffling cards through his mind.
Jerome awakened to the sound of fighting—two men, he thought, but it was too dark to see. He ran to his father’s room, where he found him already checking his rifle.
“You stay up here, boy,” he said without looking up.
Jerome watched as best as he could from his bedroom window as the pair shouted at one another. Though it was too dark to see, by their shouting, he sensed their anger.
They continued to yell at each other, even as his father emerged, rifle poised on the pair, and warned them to leave his property.
“Stay out of this, Hinkle.”
Upon hearing the threat and fearing for his father’s safety, Jerome ignored his instructions and flew down the stairs, but before he could reached the bottom, he heard the crack of two shots. He bolted for the door and strained to see through the pitch black. He crouched behind the porch railing as a man emerged from the woods. The shadowy figure glanced up at the house and got in his car. He waited until the man left and then he scrambled up to his room and dove under the covers as his father had ordered. He waited and waited for his father’s return, until at last, sleep overtook him.
A shot rang out, jerking his body even as it had that night long ago. An eerie silence followed. Jerome squeezed his eyes, preparing for the heat of a bullet. When no bullet came, he inched toward Larry and there was Shelly—his she-wolf, standing wa
tch over Larry’s lifeless body.
Jerome moved cautiously, careful not to startle her. He found the gun, put the safety on and set it up on the table away from potential harm.
“Are you shot?” he spoke quietly, wondering if she could understand him. He lifted Larry’s wrist as a formality and checked for a pulse, but from the amount of blood, it was apparent she’d found an artery. He raised his hand slowly to her, his senses on high alert, as were hers.
The wolf came to him, brushing her face against his palm. He held out his arms and she curled into his lap. He stroked her hair, thankful the bullet he’d heard was a reactionary squeeze of the trigger without aim. “It’s okay, Shelly, I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
Shelly grinned as she flipped though an old copy of Wildlife Magazine. Dusty and worn, Jerome had decided it was time for them to go, along with the rest of his father’s odd, stuffed collections. Like her mother often said, life can sure turn out funny.
“The last load’s in the pickup, Darlin’. Ready when you are,” her new husband said.
Shelly glanced up, noting at the pleased expression on Jerome’s face. He was a good man, a brilliant lover, a good provider. Their union could not bring back her family, but it had brought a smile back to her mother’s face. Shelly knew one more thing that would make Grandma Bane even happier. Yes, this small town would be the perfect place to start their litter…er, family.
“We’ll stop by and see my mother at the market on our way back from the dump, okay Jerome? She said she had something special for us—probably meatloaf.”
With Larry’s death, ruled as a tragic accident with a wild animal, the meat market opened up for sale. Shelly’s mother immediately snapped up the business and Shelly left the Quik-Foto to work part-time at the meat market with her mother.
Two months later, she and Jerome eloped in a quiet little ceremony at the Justice of the Peace with only her mother and Big Dan serving as witnesses. Since then, her mother gave them little peace on the topic of grandchildren.
Shelly eyed her handsome husband, his T-shirt covered in dirt and sweat. It clung to his tempting, well-formed torso. She tossed the magazine aside, the gesture gaining his attention just as she hoped it would.
“Maybe we’ll make a detour to that little fishing cabin you have by the lake.”
Jerome let out a short laugh. “You realize it’s cold as hell out there today?”
He planted his hands on his lean hips. Hips she knew fit perfect between her thighs.
“Oh, I think you can manage to think of ways to keep me warm, Jerome.” She sauntered toward him, pressed her body against his chest and nuzzled the warmth beneath his chin. He’d started growing a beard, just for her and it drove her insane.
His hands circled her waist. “You know, I can’t seem to keep my hands off of you these days. Is there a full moon or something?”
“You’re catching on,” she whispered, brushing her lips over his ear.
“This is about kids again, isn’t it?” His low chuckle reverberated against her breasts.
She leaned back in his embrace and gave him a demure smile. “I’m in heat, Sweetheart. I can’t help it.”
Jerome grinned and he reared back his head, letting out an exuberant howl.
The End
About the Author
A connoisseur of life, best-selling author Amanda McIntyre (aka Pamela Johnson) has sampled everything from an office career and motherhood to being a newspaper columnist turned fiction writer. Her passion for fiction writing came in 2001, with her first published novel Unfinished Dreams. Since then she has added a number of novels, novellas, short stories and non-fiction books to the shrine of that passion. Readers describe her work as "highly sensual and character-driven". She is published in a variety of genres, including paranormal, contemporary and historical. She currently writes erotic historical and contemporary fiction for Harlequin Spice and Spice Briefs.
You can visit Amanda at her website: http://www.amandamcintyre.net
Table of Contents
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Table of Contents
Title page
By the Light of the Silvery Moon Page 4