Secret Wolf: A Steamy Werewolf Romance

by Dancer Vane

  But this wasn’t about my heart anymore. It was about being a friend when needed, and about just being there. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt that standing by him meant much more for us both, at that moment, than having sex.

  “You’re a force to be reckoned with,” he whispered, with a little smile.

  And that smile didn’t look ironic to me.

  I saw them arguing the next day, during the afternoon lull. Not fighting, no, never that; but they were definitely arguing.

  Blake would usually go home for a nap after lunchtime, when business was low and the coffee-shop practically empty. Laptop guy was there again; he was quickly becoming a fixture, but he didn’t bother me at all. Farnwood came for a coffee, Blake asked me to make him one too, and they both took their cups outside.

  I watched them as they stood talking in front of the shop window, two tall, elegant men in the pale autumn light. Farnwood’s silver hair gave him a distinguished look, while Blake’s dark blond spikes, standing on end after he raked his hands through his hair nervously a few times, were more boyish.

  They could have been father and son, I thought: same tall, lean built, same strong shoulders and long legs. Farwood was sophisticated and smart, Blake seemed rattled. Smart, sure, but he was not as poised, as confident, as I was used to seeing him.

  It occurred to me that they weren’t arguing; rather, that he might have been asking Farnwood for advice, and they both had rather intense personalities. In any case, if that was it, Blake didn’t seem to like the advice. He kept shaking his head while kicking pebbles, biting his lips, and looking endearingly stubborn.

  As for me, I kept my mouth shut, except with the customers. Our conversation the day before hadn’t resolved anything; we had reached a fragile truce, but he still wanted me to move out.

  The note he’d found didn’t seem to me like an explicit threat; maybe a blackmailer making a first, tentative move. If the threat was to reveal to society as a whole his particular nature, I found it hard to believe anyone would take it seriously.

  But then, I did believe it, didn’t I? And my two friends at the trailer park hadn’t doubted it much either. And there was this comment I didn’t want to remember, about women who “change into bitches…” yeah, that one was probably pure “bro” talk or whatever being an ass was called these days. These two weren’t the most outstanding citizens in town.

  But then, there was the mayor. Hard to believe he wasn’t at least suspecting something. I found myself wondering, while I watched the two men through the window and the cute displays of sweets, if the mayor could be a real threat.

  Or even the author of the note? Probably not. That note slipped under the door, that had been sneaky. The mayor was a more in-your-face kind of guy.

  I wondered who might have had the guts to break into the park, knowing what they thought they knew, to walk down to Blake’s house and leave the note. If it was a human who had done that, it showed guts.

  Unless he was armed. In that case… he had meant business.

  As I watched the two men sipping their coffee outside, talking, I also observed how close they seemed to be. Once the argument cleared, Blake looked at the older man without reserve: a trusting expression, and smiling eyes.

  They seemed comfortable with touching, with rubbing shoulders, with standing slightly closer than men usually do. I found myself wondering again if Farnwood had some official role in their pack, and if the word “pack” made me cringe a bit, it didn’t last long.

  If I wanted to stand next to Blake in the trouble that seemed to be coming, I needed to be able to think words like “pack” and “Alpha” without flinching.

  Blake brought the cups inside.

  “I’m heading home for a nap. You okay in here?”

  “I’m good.”

  He looked at the empty room, only laptop guy clicking furiously.

  “His coffee is still warm,” I said. “I brought him a fresh one five minutes ago.”

  “He seems wired enough as it is,” Blake muttered under his breath. He seemed to hesitate, his gaze met mine, and his lips curved a bit but for once, he didn’t seem to know quite what to say.

  “See you, then,” I replied easily, holding his gaze. Only because he did.

  He winced. “Alright… see you, then.”

  He left the shop through the front door, without another glance. I was following him, a bit puzzled. What was that? If anyone knew how to make an exit, have a great exit line, it was my boss, usually.

  Well, maybe he was getting down with something. The flu. A cold. I had definitely made him spend a lot of time between fur and clothes, the other day.

  The memory still made me smile.

  Chapter Eighteen

  ALANNA

  “I am not comfortable with that,” Blake stated.

  What a luxury, being used to do only whatever you feel comfortable with. I watched him while I poured water into the kettle. Again, Blake was pacing in my small kitchen. I couldn’t blame him: I preferred my own kitchen to his luxury one, too.

  It was nicely vintage — alright, old, but I insist it was warm, with cream-coloured formica that had probably started as white, and red stone terracotta floors that were hard to clean, but cheery. The place was cozy.

  I didn’t cook much, but I spent some time everyday having tea at the kitchen table while reading a novel from the charity shop. I learnt tons of new words in that kitchen, and I liked reading more and more, now that I became more comfortable with it.

  I just loved this room, so I couldn’t blame Blake, who again had shown up unexpectedly, and gone straight to the kitchen.

  He looked great, in jeans and a white long-sleeves tee-shirt. Thing is, when you have the kind of abs he does, you don’t really need to make any fashion statement. A simple long-sleeved tee drew the attention to what really mattered: the fantastic body underneath.

  That I was very determined to try and ignore, focusing so much on filling the kettle that I didn’t really hear what he said next.

  “Sorry?”

  I turned off the water. He repeated:

  “I’m saying that this trip isn’t necessary. If you think I should stay, I could.”

  I turned to look at him, surprised:

  “Are you asking my opinion? Is that what you mean?”

  “I don’t like leaving you here alone.”

  I scoffed. “I don’t need a baby-sitter.”

  He frowned at me, in a way that he probably meant to be threatening.

  “Do I look like a baby-sitter to you?”

  “Nor a bodyguard, either.”

  “The trip is just for fun.”

  The way he said that, fun must have been code for “chore.”

  “Is he forcing you to go?”

  “Grant? No.” Blake looked surprised, and that was probably sincere. “Grant has a meeting in Belize on Friday morning, and he thought we could make it a long week-end together.”

  Was that what they had been arguing about in front of the shop in the afternoon?

  “Like lovers,” I smiled. “You two have fun.”

  He laughed, and that sounded so shocked and fresh that my doubts disappeared. “No! Or I wouldn’t be the one traveling with him. I’m clearly not his first choice, as far as lovers go. No, just as friends — and not just the two of us. Deckler is coming too.”

  “That one I don’t know.”

  After a few intents on my part, the spark finally caught and flames hissed under the kettle.

  “Deckler, my dear, is the owner of a very fancy restaurant in a very unlikely place. He’s on the other side of the lake from us. Beautiful setting. I need to… well. We could…”

  I looked at him expectantly. That sounded almost like an invitation, or was I very wrong? But he bit his lips, shot me a very dark look for some reason, and didn’t finish.

  “So, the three boys alone in a nice hotel. With a swimming pool?”

  He seemed embarrassed. “Well, yes. This chain of hotels be
longs to Grant anyway, so…”

  I laughed aloud. I knew that Blake was rich — I had seen his house, and guessed that the bakery was passion more than business — but Farnwood, well, that was quite another level.

  “You’re going to have fun.”

  His eyes lingered on mine. “Yeah. Sure.” His voice was light. He’d better. A long week-end in a sunny place? Lounging by the pool? He could hardly pretend this was going to be boring.

  “Don’t you love being with your… friends?”

  If he noticed the hesitation, he didn’t show it. He beamed at me. “I love them.”

  “Great. Then there’s no reason why you shouldn’t go.”

  And seriously, why did it sound as if I was giving him permission? He didn’t need my approval. He seemed to have come only to hear me repeat it was fine. That he was going to have fun.

  “But.” His face was dark. “You’ll be alone here.”

  “I’ve been alone all my life. And there’s a fence. An alarm. I’ll lock the door, I always do. I’ll be fine.”

  “What if…” his eyes wavered.

  “Tea?”

  “Yes, please. I’m not a big fan of instant coffee.”

  “Well, you can say that, because you’re used to having a choice. I hadn’t really tried any other coffee until I worked for you.”

  “Seriously?” His eyes were wide and horrified, warm brown flecked with green. This man had no experience of the real world, apparently. Or he was making fun of me.

  “Anyway, I like tea better.” I shrugged. “It’s more civilised.”

  He smiled in a small, private way, and I thought he was about to make a joke about being civilised. But apparently, we weren’t that familiar yet.

  “But what if the person who burned your trailer… you know?”

  I made myself shrug.

  “You’re never taking a holiday again, as long as I live in the carriage house?”

  “I’d have liked to solve this first. How can you take it so calmly?”

  I smiled to him; not a joyous smile, and he noticed, because I saw him flinch.

  “You think I’m calm? Wait until I put my hands on the fucker who did that.”

  Our eyes met. He nodded. “I feel pretty much the same about that. But I’m not happy with leaving before things have settled.”

  I dropped a tea bag into a mug, and drowned it in hissing, boiling water.

  “Things won’t settle. I’m trouble. When it’s not arson, it’s attempted rape, and when not rape… “ my voice trailed off. I didn’t know what came next, and I wasn’t anxious to know. But something would.

  “…it’s frolicking with wild creatures,” he finished for me, in a soft, amused voice. I laughed aloud, because that sounded so much better than the possibilities I had been toying with in my head.

  “You make me sound like a witch.” I poured tea for myself and left the kettle on the stove.

  “You’re kind of a magical creature yourself.”

  That made me feel good. I’d been called all kinds of things in my life, and this was by far the nicest. I shook my head, softly smiling, warming my hands on my mug. The tea was hot and very dark, fragrant, as I liked it. He took my wrist and drew me to him.

  “I mean that.”

  “Yeah. You’d better go pack for your boys’ weekend. You want to be a single man for that week-end.”

  “Do I?”

  I couldn’t answer that for him, could I? I would have drunk some tea to gain time, but it was scalding hot.

  “You don’t have anything to eat with that?” He was looking around, as if he expected to see anything but bare formica.

  “I wasn’t expecting guests for dinner.”

  “Then come with me to the house. I’ll fix us something. If I’m leaving tomorrow, I want to have dinner with you.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  He flinched. I corrected, amused. “Well, not when I’m not working.”

  “We could go to Deckler’s if you want.”

  I thought of Lianne receiving us, the two of us as a couple. Me in my second-hand jeans. That would be embarrassing. The good people of the town, as well, would have something to say about that — and it wouldn’t be flattering.

  One day, I would be able not to care. But for the time being, I didn’t want him to get in trouble, and I certainly didn’t want to draw attention to myself.

  I smiled to him. He was looking up at me, elbows on his thighs, too tall and muscular for the chair — the two of them just not on the same scale — and his eyes were dark, a dark brown and green pool of water in the shadows, and his grin was… predatory.

  “I’d rather have dinner at your house,” I said.

  “More private.”

  That hadn’t been exactly what I had meant, but now that he said it…

  “Privacy is good,” I agreed.

  “Come here.”

  We did make it as far as his kitchen. But then he touched my arm, his gaze searched for mine, and he stepped closer, his hand warm on my neck. “Come here…”

  For once, I was speechless. I hadn’t really expected… well, hoped, sure. But I was still surprised; and it felt almost like relief as I exhaled.

  Because that felt right.

  He took my chin between his fingers and raised my lips to his. His kisses were soft, at first, then became harder, more demanding, more invasive. One arm circled my shoulders, and I felt safe. Loved.

  Well, safe. I didn’t know about the rest. He wanted me, that was for sure, and made me feel wonderful and… needy. He wanted me but that might not mean anything else.

  His free hand explored my body, slid under my dress, rested, warm, on my belly. I sighed. He was kissing me feverishly, as if we had been apart for a long time.

  His hand caressed the soft skin of my belly and that tickled, then slid inside my panties. Hard fingers, soft touch, wet answer.

  “Horny?”

  I growled a yes.

  “Didn’t hear you well.”

  His fingers were playing in my wet folds, then he introduced one deeper, making me moan. He lowered his head to ask in my ear:

  “Food first or fuck first?”

  I was sorely tempted to ask for food, catching him at his own game. But then, it would have been as punishing for me as it was for him.

  “You call that a fuck?” I grunted when his finger pushed deeper, and his thumb rubbed gently over my sensitive clit.

  “I can make you come like that.”

  I kissed him, biting his lip softly, then buried my face in his neck, inhaling the scent of his skin, fingers in his soft hair.

  “I don’t want to come like that.”

  “No? Very demanding.”

  “Yes. Spoilt.”

  He chuckled.

  “Not yet, but you will be. How do you want to come, then?”

  I didn’t think I could say the words aloud. I wasn’t inhibited or shy; I was rather loud during sex and adored the way he talked dirty, his breathy, husky voice expressing more emotion than he did realise. But doing the same? All right… it was only three words. I could do this.

  “On your cock.”

  “What?”

  His thumb pressed softly on my clit, drawing my breath away.

  “I… aah… want to come on your cock.”

  I looked down, and sure, just seeing it surging from his open pants was making me salivate.

  But then he took a step back, and I whimpered as he broke contact. His face was flushed.

  “Come with me to the bedroom. You show me how you want it.”

  His bedroom looked like a showroom in an expensive furniture shop. Huge bed, silky grey sheets, some nondescript vases on minimalist nightstands. The art on the wall, facing the bed, seemed more interesting, not that I would know; not that I really had time to look anyway.

  He turned the light on, and I shivered, feeling very naked under that light.

  “Show me.”

  I didn’t mind. I would have b
ent over that minimalist dresser or laid flat on my back for him, I didn’t mind. But if he wanted me to chose, I would.

  I pushed the comforter down, and knelt on the bed, looking at him invitingly. He was gloriously naked, his clothes lying with mine in the hallway, and he growled.

  He didn’t come with me, though; he watched my naked form, kneeling, my hand falling between my legs to tease him.

  My brain finally caught up with the setting: the wall of windows next to me, light inside, night outside, and I shrunk physically when I realised anybody outside could see us.

  “Could you close the blinds?”

  “There’s nobody outside.” Something flickered in his eye; a hint of a smile. But he repeated.

  “Nobody else lives here. The alarm is set. There’s nobody outside.”

  And yet… a wolf could slip through that fence; I even suspected it was intentional. And someone… But no, he was right, there wasn’t anybody for miles on each side, and we faced the lake.

  “Somebody in the restaurant with binoculars could, maybe.“ I suggested.

  “Yes, baby. That would have to be practically a telescope, but yes, if you like that. Does it turn you on ? Someone watching us. Watching how I touch you… one hand holding the binoculars. The other hand dropping into their pants…”

  I laughed, but it sounded unsteady.

  “Oh my God, you’re an exhibitionist…”

  “Me? I don’t really mind either way. But exposing you, showing someone how good you are, how much you want me… yes, I like that…”

  I knew there wasn’t anyone out there, there just couldn’t be.

  Yes, like he had known the same when he was in the kitchen fucking that other girl, a little voice said in my head.

  He was right, though. There couldn’t be anyone. But what made me uncomfortable was not being able to know that for sure.

  He placed himself on the bed behind me, kneeling in my back, and I rose on my knees to make space for him. When I lowered myself, my ass sat on his hairy legs, tickling slightly against my skin.

  He bent over my shoulder, using his knees to part mine until I sat open for him, or for whoever was looking out there — a stranger, it would have to be, and the idea made my face warm up.