by Lola Gabriel
Quinn threw her hands up in the air and let out a groan of exasperation. “I don’t even… this is weird. Really weird. A week ago, I was joking with Carla about werewolves, and now—” A gasp interrupted her sentence, and she turned her eyes to River. “Oh, my god. Is Carla involved in this, too? Is she one of you guys?”
“Not that I know of,” River said, slightly frowning.
“I need to call her,” Quinn muttered, and River took his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her.
“Here,” he said. “Use mine.”
“Thank you,” she said, taking it from him. Their fingers brushed against one another’s, and River felt as though a current of electricity ran between them. Quinn pulled her hand back too soon for him to dwell on it, and she dialed Carla’s number before pressing the phone to her ear, waiting for a ringing tone.
“Hello?” River heard her answer.
“Carla? It’s Quinn.”
“What do you want?” Carla demanded, her voice laced with bitterness.
“I just wanted to know if you were okay.”
“Yes, why?”
Quinn glanced briefly at River and sighed. “It’s a long story.”
“Look, Quinn,” Carla said, “if you don’t want to be friends with me anymore, then you should just say so. I told you that I was sorry for ditching you for Randy last week, but ignoring my texts and avoiding me like the plague at class is not cool.”
Quinn blinked, confused. “What are you talking about?”
“What am I—? Seriously? I texted you about dinner, and you stood me up!”
“What?” Quinn exclaimed. “Carla, you told me to meet you at Rossco’s!”
“Why the hell would I want to have dinner there? Do you even know the kind of people who hang out in that place?”
“I got a text from you!”
“Yeah, right,” Carla replied. “I would never ask you to meet me at Rossco’s. I was waiting at The Red Cherry for you.”
“And what about yesterday?” Quinn argued. “You said that we needed to talk, and I told you to meet me at the diner. Then you never showed up!”
“What are you talking about? I never got any texts from you, and I sure as hell didn’t send you any, either!”
River watched as Quinn struggled to talk, but before she could say anything, he heard Carla say, “You know what, Quinn? I don’t need to hear this. You can call me when you stop blaming me for your mistakes. Enjoy your life.”
“Carla—”
The line went dead.
Quinn closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. She left River’s phone on the table in front of her and held her head between her hands. “Hey, could you get my phone? Please?”
River nodded and stood up from the table. He went to retrieve Quinn’s jacket, searching the pockets until he found her phone and handed it to her. She mumbled a soft, “Thank you,” and started to scroll through it.
“I just don’t get it,” she said quietly, almost to herself, her eyes on the screen of the device. “I sent those messages to her. It shows that she read them. I even called her—” Her eyes shifted slightly, like she was looking at the top of the screen, and then she frowned. “This isn’t Carla’s number.”
River leaned closer. “What do you mean?”
“The number saved under Carla’s name isn’t hers,” Quinn muttered, her eyes widening, even though her brow was furrowed. “I… I’ve been texting another person the last couple of days…”
“Do you recognize the number?” River asked.
“No, not at all.”
He looked down at the phone still in her hands. “You should try calling it.”
“What?” Quinn looked up at him. “Are you insane? I can’t do that!”
“I can do it if you want to,” he offered. She seemed to consider it for a moment, and then she read the number out loud to him so that he could dial it from his own phone. It went directly to voicemail with a greeting from Carla. He waited for the beep and said, “Hey, this is River Wylde. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days. Could you call me back at this number?”
He disconnected the call and glanced at Quinn, who looked worried and horrified. “What?” he asked.
“While I admire your confidence, River, I’m not sure that was such a good idea,” she answered.
“Why not?”
“Because now they have your number as well!” she told him. “My dad is a dangerous man!”
“I’m not afraid of him,” River replied.
“You don’t know my dad.”
“I don’t care,” he said, making sure the confidence in his voice was unwavering. He didn’t want Quinn to be scared on his behalf. “I’m not afraid of him, and you don’t have to worry. I will protect you.”
“Really?” she exhaled, her voice soft. “You’d do that?”
River nodded his head and reached out to take her hand. “Not to sound too cocky, but I’ve saved you twice now. I’m pretty sure I can do it again.”
Quinn laughed slightly, and the sound made River smile at her.
“So,” she began after a moment, “you’re really five hundred years old?”
“I am, yes,” he said.
“Were you… born a shifter?” she asked hesitantly, as if she wasn’t sure whether it was appropriate. “Or were you turned into one?”
“I was born a shifter, the 29th of April, 1518, in England, where my father was from,” River answered. “We came to Massachusetts in 1631 and had traveled all along the states before settling into our home in Minnesota.” He glanced down at his lap. “And then there was the fire.”
Quinn cocked her head to the side. “What happened?” she asked.
River took a deep breath before he could answer her. “People in town found out about us, and they wanted to get rid of us. A few of the kids in the area had gone missing, and they were never found. Everyone thought we were behind it. They were convinced that we were dangerous, that we had to be dealt with.”
“That’s not fair!” Quinn exclaimed. “Just because you turn into a wolf doesn’t mean…” She trailed off and glanced away, her eyes narrowed in frustration, like she didn’t know how to word her thoughts. “Well, they shouldn’t just assume!”
River smiled at her passion. “Yeah, well, just because you’re taking it fairly well doesn’t mean others should react the same way. To be honest, I expected a much different, more dramatic reaction from you.”
“Honestly? So did I,” Quinn said, and her sincerity made River laugh, which made Quinn smile in turn. “But… I can’t explain it, but it feels like… like it’s not really that important. Like it’s not something I should be afraid of.”
“That might not be as true as you might think,” River said softly.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
River nervously threaded his fingers through his hair. “Well, the reason I’ve stayed away from you for so long is that I was too afraid to get close to you,” he explained. “I… I didn’t want to hurt you.”
Quinn narrowed her eyes at him. “Why would you hurt me?”
“Sometimes,” he said, “when I get too angry or upset, I shift without any control of it, and I am not always aware of my actions.”
“So, you’re afraid that you might literally hurt me?” she asked. River nodded reluctantly, embarrassed over the admission, but Quinn smiled at him and squeezed his hand. “It’s kind of sweet that you’re so thoughtful. Your mother would be really proud that she raised such a gentleman.”
“Thanks,” he said, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear.
“I don’t believe you could hurt me,” she said, and River was taken aback by her confidence and how strong his feelings were growing for her.
Quinn grinned at him, and their eyes locked for what felt like an eternity. River knew he probably shouldn’t, but the echoing voices in his head were silent, and he couldn’t help himself any longer. He leaned in closer and kissed Quinn on the lips.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, and she pulled him onto her as she lay back on the couch. River’s hands traveled up and down her sides, and he felt as if he would burst into a million little pieces of glowing embers. Quinn moaned against his mouth, which tore a groan of desire out of River. He slipped his hands under her shirt and ran his fingers along her soft skin, relishing in the way she shivered beneath him.
River sat up, and removed his shirt, exposing his rippling muscles. Quinn reached out to unbutton his pants, exposing his erection. River watched Quinn’s eyes widen as she took in the size of him.
River’s caressed every curve of her body slowly, taking the time to give attention to every area. Her legs, buttocks, hips, waist, chest, and even shoulders. He helped her relax before he even began undressing her, sliding off her sweater, and then her jeans and panties. River lowered his groin to hers and very slowly dragged against her, only allowing the tip to enter.
Biting his lip, he slowly drew the head in and out. It was winding Quinn up very easily, her seam growing slick from her heightened arousal. River flipped her over onto her stomach and brought her ass to his hips.
Quinn moaned, rocking her hips back and forth. He placed a finger inside of her, moving it in and out as Quinn continued to moan.
“Stop teasing me,” Quinn purred, and River couldn’t contain himself any longer. In one swift thrust, he entered her core as she gasped loudly. River continued to pump in and out of her in a slow, steady rhythm. Her sex clutched his member, as he moved his hand to her pink bud to increase her pleasure.
He pulled out and sat on the couch, pulling her on top of him in a straddled position. She eagerly positioned herself on top of him and within seconds was moving up and down, riding him expertly.
Quinn’s face was buried in his shoulder as he bucked up his hips to meet hers with every one of her movements. She began to pant harder and move more erratically, signifying she was on the precipice of climaxing. Just when he didn’t think he could hold out any longer, Quinn’s core contracted against his erection as she screamed out in ecstasy. River followed suit, orgasming in unison.
Neither one of the said a word for a minute. River didn’t want the moment to end. He couldn’t remember a moment in his life when he’d been happier.
Quinn’s phone started to ring, and she pulled away from him, albeit reluctantly.
“Ugh. It’s my mom,” she whispered breathlessly, gently pushing him off. She reached for her phone as he slid over onto the couch and caught his breath. “Hey, Mom.”
“Quinn!” River heard Quinn’s mother yell on the other end of the line. She sounded frantic. “Where the hell are you? Are you okay? I’ve been worried sick about you!”
He saw Quinn wince at the tone of her mother’s voice. “Yes, Mom, I’m fine, I… I’m sorry, I had…” She paused for a second, probably trying to come up with an explanation. River wanted to help, but he didn’t want to scare Mrs. Perkins by making his presence known. “I had a bit of an accident on the way home—”
“What?” her mother screeched. “What kind of accident?”
“It was nothing that serious, Mom,” Quinn said. “But I’m starting to think you were right about me getting a new set of snow tires.”
River heard Mrs. Perkins sigh in exasperation. “Haven’t I been telling you that for almost two weeks?”
“I know, Mom, I’m sorry.”
“Are you okay, though?”
Quinn smiled, and River couldn’t help smiling as well just by looking at her. “Yeah, don’t worry. I just hit my head against the steering wheel and had to bandage the little cut I got, but I’m fine, I promise. The truck got it worse than me.”
For a few seconds, neither of them said anything, and River watched as Quinn nervously played with a strand of her hair. He wanted to do the same.
“Will you be home soon?” her mother finally asked, sounding more resigned than angry or upset. “Do you need me to pick you up?”
“No, don’t worry,” Quinn told her. “River was nearby, and he was the one who helped me out. I told you about him, remember?” River bit back a smile. Quinn must’ve seen him, because she playfully slapped his shoulder. “He’ll give me a ride, and I’ll be home soon.”
“Okay, then,” said her mother. “Be safe, all right? Call me if you need anything.”
“I will, Mom. See you later.”
“Bye, honey.”
“Bye, Mom.” Quinn disconnected the call and leaned against the back of the couch, sighing. “Well, that solves one problem, at least.”
“What’s the other problem?” River asked, scooting closer to her.
“Even if I told my mom that the truck got the worst of it, I can’t exactly drive it back in its condition!” she exclaimed, covering her face with her hands.
River stood up from the couch and headed to the kitchen. “I’m having it fixed.”
Quinn uncovered her face and glanced at him. She got to her feet so that she could follow behind him. “You’re having what fixed?”
“Your truck,” he answered simply.
“You had my truck fixed?” she asked him with a frown.
“No, I’m having it fixed. It’ll be done by tomorrow, probably. Then we can get you some new snow tires.” Quinn narrowed her eyes at him.
“Just like that?”
“Yes,” River said, turning to look at her at the hint of disbelief in her voice. “I know a guy who can fix your truck,” he added.
“That’s great,” Quinn said, crossing her arms over her chest. “But I can’t pay him.”
River grabbed his keys from the counter. “Don’t worry about it.”
Apparently, that wasn’t the right thing to say, because Quinn glared at him. “You can’t just pay for my truck to be fixed!” she cried.
“I… don’t intend to,” River replied, hoping this would be the right thing to say. “The guy owed me a favor.”
“That’s convenient.”
He walked over to Quinn and placed his hands on her shoulders, the heat of her skin traveling throughout his body. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll have your truck back to you in the morning, and everything will be okay.”
“Okay,” Quinn said, her shoulders slumping as she leaned against him. “Okay. Fine. I trust you.”
River smiled at her words and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace and kissing the top of her head. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you home.”
About fifteen minutes later, River stopped his SUV in Quinn’s driveway, and he helped her climb out of the vehicle. Quinn led him to the front door, and they went inside just as Mrs. Perkins came into the living room and pulled Quinn into a hug.
“Oh, honey, I am so glad that you’re okay!” she cried.
“I’m fine, Mom,” Quinn insisted.
“Are you sure?” her mother asked, pulling away from her.
“She mostly needs to rest,” River said, and he held out his hand for a handshake. “I’m River Wylde. Quinn has told me a lot about you, ma’am.”
Instead of shaking his hand, Mrs. Perkins smiled at him and hugged him as well. “Thank you for being there for my daughter, River.”
“It’s my pleasure, ma’am,” he said, smiling back at her. “I’m just glad it happened so close to my house. Otherwise, I would have never heard her truck spin out on the road.”
“Well, regardless,” Mrs. Perkins said, breaking their embrace and gratefully squeezing his arms, “you’re a hero in my book.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” River said, feeling a little embarrassed at the praise. Next to her mother, Quinn smiled at him. “I should get going.” Then he turned to Quinn. “You should get some rest as well,” he told her, and her expression softened. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed, still smiling.
Quinn’s mother walked out with River. She closed the door behind her and said, “Thank you again, for looking after my Quinn.”
“You’re welcome, Mrs. Perkins.”
“Wasn’t Quinn going to meet up with Carla, though?” she asked, frowning slightly at him. River realized he had to come up with something before this turned into an interrogation. “How come she was so close to your house?”
“Carla didn’t show up,” he said, knowing that, at least, was true, “so Quinn was a bit upset about it. I think she just wanted someone to talk to.”
“Well,” Mrs. Perkins sighed, her posture relaxing, “I am glad that it was you. She seems to like you.”
“That’s a relief,” River said, “because I really like her as well.”
Mrs. Perkins bid him goodbye and told him to drive safely. River nodded at her and walked back to his SUV. As he drove home, a smile he had not been able to experience in a very long time overtook his lips.
7
Quinn couldn’t believe it—her truck was good as new!
It stood in front of her in River’s large garage, looking even better than the first day she had seen it. It was equipped with a brand-new set of snow tires, a brand-new shiny chrome bumper, and even her plates had been replaced. She wasn’t sure how River had managed to pull this off, but she was incredibly thankful.
She glanced at him with wide eyes.
“What?” he asked her and crossed his arms.
“I don’t know who owed you a favor and for what it was, but they sure delivered,” she answered.
“They always do,” he said with a wink.
Quinn rolled her eyes. “Tell me a bit more about this wolf thing.”
River raised an eyebrow. “What do you want to know?”
“Are you the leader of your group?”
“The alpha,” River said, “Yes. And it’s called a ‘pack,’ not a ‘group.’”
“So you’re in charge of everyone in your pack?”
“That’s right. I have three betas, who are second in command. They make decisions when I am incapable of doing so.”