by Cara Adams
Zoan led the way to the area of the river he considered most interesting from a human point of view. The banks here sloped down to the water, acting almost as a seat so people could look out over the water, with trees and wild grasses on the other side of the river. Yaro jumped from the bank onto the narrow strip of sand beside the water and splashed around. Zoan watched his friend kicking up waves. What was it with some people and water? They always had to splash and play. Personally, he was content just to watch the water rippling past.
Yaro jumped out of the water and padded up and down the tiny strip of beach then shook himself. Zoan took that as the sign he was ready to move on, so once again he led the way, following the river bank, but moving farther away from the heart of the community. Just when he was starting to think likely a human would find the path to be too rough, Yaro bounded past him away from the river and across to a track between the onion fields. Unsure of what Yaro wanted, Zoan followed him. Out in the open here was not the time to transform and hold a conversation. They could do that later, under the shelter of a tree.
Yaro ran fast between the fields, then doglegged left, past a cabbage field and then right to a more experimental field with small amounts of a variety of different crops. Zoan stopped and stared at the field thoughtfully. Yes, that was a fair comment. Shakina might be interested in knowing some of their new ideas. After all, Nala was her friend, and she’d helped her plant her herbs, which might one day become another paying crop for the farm.
He gave an affirmative yip to Yaro, then doubled back on their route and headed toward Lookout Hill. There were several higher points on the farm, but Lookout Hill was the most popular one, because from there a viewer could see most of the farm’s land and get a good idea of the breadth and depth of the property. The farm belonged to all the werewolves. It was not only their home and their community, but where their ancestors had led them for a new life so long ago. It was in their blood and their heart and they were proud of what they’d achieved, even though they knew they still needed to keep working hard to support themselves. Zoan hoped Shakina would come to love this place as much as he and Yaro did, as much as all the wolves did.
He supposed she’d first need to come to see it as her home. Did she still miss her old neighborhood and the friends she’d left behind? Perhaps that was a conversation they could have over their picnic lunch. Hmm. What if it were too cold, or too wet, or too windy for a picnic? Where could they go?
He led the way down Lookout Hill, heading toward a more heavily treed area. He ran along the fringe of it, looking for a sheltered spot with grass they could sit on, but not too far inside the area as he didn’t want Shakina getting hurt by the tough undergrowth, or even falling and twisting an ankle or a knee.
Once again Yaro pushed past him and led them farther around the area, then down a narrow track to the perfect place, a grassy patch under the trees.
He wagged his tail in pleasure, and then ran fast toward home. Yaro raced past him, hurtling down the track, but Zoan didn’t feel competitive right now. More, he was content that they’d planned Sunday’s outing. Of course, having a picnic as well as a run meant he and Yaro would have to wear backpacks and carry the food and the rug, but they were both quite fit, so it shouldn’t be a big deal. The real challenge would be asking the right questions to learn more about Shakina without prying or upsetting her in any way. Now that would be tricky.
* * * *
In the neighborhood where Shakina grew up, young women didn’t go running on the sidewalks, not even in groups of twos or threes. But running around the track at school was safe and running was something Shakina enjoyed. She was never a true sprinter and nor was she the kind of person who would enjoy participating in marathons. But running for half an hour, at a moderate pace, freed her brain to think and loosened her muscles. Some days she could almost feel all the stress and hassles of the day dripping off her skin in her sweat, leaving her relaxed and freed of concerns to enjoy her evenings.
So here at the farm she’d stayed on the roads, usually running around the outer ring road two or three times a night. Of course, now she was here her life was a whole lot simpler. The huge decision had been to apply for the position. She’d thought likely it’d mean she’d be giving up any hope of ever owning her own beauty parlor, only to find that dream had come true as well. Now she needed to face up to whether or not she would marry Zoan and Yaro. Oh, no way would she say yes yet. They were far too sure of themselves and too bossy. But she did like them and she knew they were attracted to her. None of the other available bachelors appealed to her as much as they did, but they needed to learn she wasn’t a slave or a doormat. They would not be able to order her around or wipe their feet on her. If she decided they were right for her, she’d help them in any way she could. But that was all in the future. First she needed to know a hell of a lot more about them to decide whether or not they were a good match for her.
Asking her to go running with them was a nice start. It proved they’d made the effort to find out something she enjoyed doing instead of just expecting her to fit in with their plans. Although, to be fair, the party they’d given her at Shakina’s Styling had been very special as well.
Shakina lengthened her stride, easily keeping up with the pace Zoan set. That was another thing. Both men were deliberately setting their pace to match hers. She was well aware they could likely go a lot faster than her. She’d slowed down a fraction once they were off the pavement because she wasn’t so used to running on a dirt track. But she was enjoying seeing around the farm.
Once they reached the river bank she dropped onto the grass. “This is an amazing place. Thank you for bringing me here. The river’s quite different here from how it is close to the community. I suppose people have worn a track all around it there.”
“Do you like to swim? It’s too shallow here for that, but people often splash around in the water,” said Yaro.
“I never learned to swim. That’s not something I tell a lot of people, but I’ve never lived on the coast or near a lake, so it just never happened.”
“Lucky you. At Coopersville Elementary School, swimming is taught in grades two, three, and four. If you can’t swim properly by the end of grade four, you have to go to a make-up class over summer. That’s the only thing that made me concentrate. I couldn’t bear the thought of missing part of my vacation,” said Zoan.
She thought he was serious. “So it must be you, Yaro, who likes the water.”
“Hey, I thought just about anything was better than sitting in class learning all sorts of useless stuff. But I don’t mind water.”
“Learning useless stuff. Yes, I have to say I’d have preferred to study things of more help to me in the outside world. You know, since I left school, no one has ever asked me to recite the various presidents’ names in chronological order.”
Shakina enjoyed sitting on the bank of the river and talking to the men about anything and nothing. From there they took her to see some of the new crops the farm was testing. “I guess it’s a constant battle to keep up with what customers want to eat. I’d never even heard of probiotics or goji berries until a couple of years ago.”
“Or quinoa. It’s not a cereal crop at all. It’s related to beetroot and spinach,” said Zoan.
“But chocolate is considered a superfood. How can that be? There must have been a lot of women who voted it onto the list,” teased Yaro.
They laughed and ran some more, this time to Lookout Hill. “The view is amazing. This is all Cooper’s Farm, right?”
“Yes, our home and our ancestors’ home. We can’t say often enough how glad we are you human women have come here. Without you our people would gradually die out. But by uniting with human women, we’ll survive and thrive,” said Zoan.
Shakina dropped down to sit on the grass. “How did that work in the past? Is the need for human input new, or have werewolves always intermarried with humans?” she asked.
“There are some humans in o
ur family tree. From time to time a man has fallen in love with a human woman and married her. We know that werewolf packs which were very strongly opposed to interspecies marriage have declined most dramatically. But it seems to have become much more obvious in the past twenty years or so. Who knows, maybe there has been some genetic change along the way.”
“So no one really knows,” she persisted.
“I guess not,” said Yaro.
“Someone really ought to do a family history, researching back as far as possible to see how often human DNA needs to be added to werewolf blood for the line to continue.”
“Would you like to do that?” Zoan asked her.
“I don’t have time. I have a beauty salon to establish and run and make profitable. But it could be really fascinating work and helpful to all the werewolf packs, not just this one.”
“Are you getting hungry yet? Are you ready to move on to our picnic site?” asked Yaro.
Shakina stared up at the sky. The day was sunny but not hot. Still, there were no gray clouds around so a picnic without rain should be possible. “Yes.”
They ran again, this time down to a more heavily wooded area. Shakina guessed this was where they liked to exercise in their wolf form, but the ground was very rough so she slowed to a walk. They didn’t go far inside though, just to a nice grassy area well protected by trees. It was secluded, warm, and perfect.
Yaro opened his backpack and pulled out a rug, which he laid in the ground. On top of it he added a red checkered tablecloth, some red picnic plates, and red forks. Meanwhile Zoan opened a container of berries, one of chunks of avocado, one with sliced turkey, and a fourth with sliced tomatoes and onions. Finally he pulled out long bread rolls and laid two on each plate, before handing her a fork. “What would you like on your first sandwich?”
“I don’t expect to eat two big bread rolls like this. Is there a knife so I can cut one in half?”
Zoan handed her a serrated knife and she laid one roll aside on the tablecloth before cutting the other in half. Shakina handed the knife back to him and opened the roll, filling it with a mixture of everything except the berries.
She noticed Zoan and Yaro exchange glances as they made their own sandwiches, then Yaro said, “My parents live in the senior center over near the south boundary of the property. What about your family?”
“I’m the only one in my family who doesn’t prefer winter to summer. My sister married a Canadian three years ago, and ever since then my folks have wanted to go live near her. When I decided to apply to join your community they were very relieved to head up north.”
“What would they have done if you hadn’t been accepted?” asked Zoan.
“Oh, I’d already decided to go to California and try to save enough money to open a beauty parlor there. I figured with all the movie people surely there’d be room for one more hair and beauty salon.”
“That makes sense,” said Yaro.
She turned to look at him full face. “What about you, Zoan?”
“My parents were much older. They’d been together a long time before I was born. I think they’d planned not to have children, but they never made me feel unwanted. They’ve both been gone a while now. What about you and the future? What plans do you have to do next?”
“Oh, that’s easy. I want Shakina’s Styling to be a success. Not just to pay back Mr. Cooper’s loan, but to become profitable in its own right. Having that store is the fulfillment of a dream for me and I’m determined to make it a huge success.”
“And what about mating two wolves?”
Shakina heard the suppressed passion in Zoan’s voice and mentally complimented him on phrasing his question like that, instead of in a bullying kind of way. She answered honestly. “I came here with my eyes wide open. I know I’ve signed a contract to marry a pair of bachelors and I’ll do that. But they’ll be men who’ll support my ambition and endeavors with the store. In return, I’ll support them in fulfilling their own dreams.”
“What if their dream is simply to mate you? To love and cherish you forever?” asked Yaro.
Shakina looked at Zoan. It was the two of them together she had to deal with. Not just one of them.
“If you mate us, we promise to look after you. We’ll help you in the beauty parlor and in everything else you do. We’ll love and cherish you. We do love you, Shakina. You’re the only one we want. Right from the very first time we saw you, we knew you were ours.”
Well, fuck. What am I supposed to say to that?
Chapter Three
“I’m not ready to mate anyone yet. I’m pretty sure I already told you that.”
Yaro stared at Shakina. She was so beautiful sitting there on the blanket, with the sunlight dappling her body as it filtered down through the trees. He wanted desperately to kiss her until he changed her mind, or better yet to fuck her until she screamed yes at him instead of no, but likely that wouldn’t work. Antagonizing her wouldn’t be smart, and she’d already shown she was capable of walking away from them if they didn’t give her respect.
But fuck! His dick was so hard and she was so lovely. He just knew once she was in his arms she’d start to understand his desperate need for her.
Zoan leaned back on his arms, giving her more space, but Yaro noticed his gaze was still fixed on her face. “Don’t you want to know what kissing us would taste like? What if two men kissed and touched you together? Wouldn’t you like to experience that?”
Ah, that got her attention. There was the faintest hiss as she drew in a big breath of air, and she was wiggling her ass on the rug. Hell yes she wanted that. Now, all they had to wait for was for her to admit it.
But no. Once again she turned the tables on them. Damn! Loving a smart woman was hard work.
“Why don’t I kiss you? That way I’ll know if I like it.”
Yaro pulled his T-shirt off and laid flat on his back on the blanket. “Please, feel free to kiss me.” He hoped removing his shirt wasn’t a mistake, but he wanted her looking at him, really looking at him. Them.
“Sounds like a plan.” Zoan copied him and lay down beside him.
Shakina sat back on her heels and stared at them. Yaro could feel his cock getting thicker and longer, pressing against his jeans so hard it hurt. The waiting was killing him, but he had high hopes she’d agree to their invitation. She obviously wanted to, she just had to take the step, a very small step, and lean forward and press her lips to his. Or to Zoan’s. Preferably before his dick pushed its way out of his jeans all by itself.
And then she was leaning over him, her long red braid resting on his naked chest, tickling it, as she touched her lips to his so lightly and so briefly he almost didn’t believe it had happened. But then she bent over a little farther and kissed him again, this time more purposefully.
He forced himself not to touch her yet. His hands wanted to pull her over his body and his cock was aching to bury itself inside her cunt, but he unclenched his fists, forced his shoulders to stay flat on the blanket, and kissed her back as softly as she’d kissed him.
It was almost a relief when she angled her body over Zoan’s. Of course he wanted her to keep kissing him, but he was so aroused he needed a few minutes to compose himself or he really might grab hold of her and ruin everything. Yaro watched as she treated Zoan in exactly the same way she’d treated him, with a gentle, barely there kiss. He also saw how hard Zoan had to work to control himself. Zoan’s body was almost rigid—like his cock—and Yaro sure as hell knew it was from lust, not revulsion.
When she sat up again Yaro had to cough and clear his throat twice before he could speak. “Is it our turn yet?”
“No. I don’t think I’m done yet.”
“As the lady wishes.”
Yaro tried hard to relax, but she must have noticed his skin’s reaction to the touch of her hair, because she flipped her braid forward in front of her and began teasing the strands of hair over his muscles, then down the line of his sternum, stopping only when she r
eached the waistband of his jeans. Finally she leaned over his body again, and, in the manner he was coming to know as distinctly hers, she kissed each of his nipples.
Then she moved away and began running her fingertips across Zoan’s forehead, smoothing the creases in his brow, before lightly touching his cheeks, jaw line, and even his ears. She finished by dropping a kiss on his nose.
Yaro thought he had his body back under his control when it was his turn again, but she unzipped his jeans, unsnapped the stud at the top of them, and pulled his cock from his boxers. Her hand was warm and firm, her grip perfect on his shaft, and he couldn’t prevent the groan he gave at her touch. As for his control, he was fast losing it. All he could think of was how wonderful his dick felt in her hand, but how much better it would feel in her cunt. Or her mouth, or her ass. When she scraped a fingernail—with bright red polish that matched their picnic plates, he noticed as his eyes crossed in ecstasy—over his cockhead, he almost came. “If you do that again, I’ll come. You’re much too wonderful for me to resist you.”
“I’m not sure that resistance is required.” But she released his dick and unzipped Zoan. Yaro saw that once again Zoan’s hands were clenched into fists but Shakina didn’t pick up his shaft. Instead, she lowered her mouth to his waist and licked a line along his waist to one hip, then back and around his belly button.
Zoan’s hands had unclenched, but then Shakina licked up his shaft. Yaro had been watching the whole time and he hadn’t seen her pull Zoan’s briefs down, so she must have done it while she was licking his skin. Their woman was not just multitalented but multitasking as well. She took Zoan’s dick in her hands and began sucking him purposefully, rolling his balls and stroking his shaft. Zoan started to groan and then tried to pull back. “I can’t—”