To Catch a Wolf (BBW Werewolf Shifter Romance) (4 page)

“God
damn
I love those nails,” Erik groaned, ramming himself as deep as he could go. The heat from our bodies had sweat running down my stomach. “Scratch me harder.”

He drew back and looked at me, challenging me to do what he said. “Come on,” he urged. “Scratch me good or I’ll stop.”

To prove his point, he grabbed my hips and held me still, refusing to let me do the work for him, and refusing me the pleasure I needed.

“I don’t... want...”

He drove in one time, hard and deep. “You don’t want what?” Erik pulled away, leaving an aching void. “Scratch me!”

“I don’t want... to hurt you,” I said, barely managing a grin.

Erik’s already huge arms swelled up even more, and short, hard, silver-black hairs started sprouting from them. He hunched forward and when he kissed my throat again, I felt the points of fangs instead of perfectly square teeth, and I became aware of his pointed claws digging into the flesh on my hips.

“Do it,” he commanded, rolling his head around on his shoulders. “Hurt me!”

Gasping, I dragged my nails from his shoulders to his elbows, leaving red trails that were visible even through his lupine fur.

“Yes!” he shouted, “again!”

By the time I finished the second scrape, he was almost frothing at the mouth. Erik held me in place, slamming into my deepest places, over and over, hard and fast and smooth. Every line of him thrilled me, every hair on his arms, his chest, and the tops of his thighs that burned against mine like a rug made me ache.

And then the last part of him swelled.

Erik threw his head back, drove so deep it hurt, and howled my name.

The muscles inside me clenched rhythmically with the pumps and the squeezes and the pulses of Erik’s cock. One second, we were both breathing hard, trying to stave off our climaxes for just a moment longer, and then in the very next, we were staring into each other’s eyes and both being taken away.

His explosion came first, but only a half-breath before mine. We lay there, trembling, holding one another tight, as our bodies gripped, grasped and finished each other’s pleasure.

“I really, really wish this didn’t have to end,” Erik said a few seconds later... or maybe a few minutes, it was hard to tell with how googly and jumbled my thoughts always got. “But... I’m afraid it does.”

“End?” I said. Looking up at him, I drank Erik in as he pushed away and his muscles shrank from totally inhuman to simply mostly unbelievable. His hard hairs receded, and his teeth went back to being perfect examples of dentistry. “But... you don’t mean
us
do you?”

He cocked his eyebrow. “No?”

“Oh,” I said, slightly embarrassed. “I thought you meant...”

“No, no, no. I promised you I was going to figure out some way to convince the pack that there’s no reason I can’t claim you as my actual, official mate.”

I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Then, what he said hit me. “I guess I just don’t understand,” I said. “They all seem to like me okay, right? So what’s the big deal?”

Erik squinted a little bit. “It’s complicated,” he replied. “There are a lot of rules and regulations and quid-pro-quos about what we can and can’t do. And, ever since you graduated from being my secretary to being my... er...”

“Assistant?”

He grunted a laugh. “Yeah, assistant. There was some tension about having a pureblood human involved in pack business.”

That took me a little by surprise. “There... was? Why is this the first I’m hearing of it? And if they didn’t want a human here, why am
I
here?”

Erik raised his hands defensively. “I said at first. It was my idea, to bring a pure blood in. To be honest with you, I’m a little tired of how insular and prickly this community’s gotten and I thought it’d do some good to have a little bit of a different perspective kicking around. And so far, I’ve been right.”

“Okay,” I said. “If that’s true, then what’s the big deal? They didn’t like me at first, then they got used to me being around the courtroom and confidential town business, but I can’t be the alpha’s girlfriend? What kind of ridiculous—”

“Like I said, it’s complicated.” Erik let out a sigh.

But I wasn’t finished.

“What I don’t get is why you don’t just do what you say you’re going to do and to hell with the rest. I mean, you
are
the alpha. You run the town. Right?”

“Well...”

“Am I right or not?” I unashamedly crossed my living room and put my hands on my hips, still naked from the waist down. “You’re the alpha, right?”

“That’s true,” he said. “Listen, I’m not entirely sure I like the way this is going. I was trying to be nice, you know? Give you a little bit of a romantic segue to the next part of the day?”

I pursed my lips. “This is getting old,” I said.

“What is?” He put his hands up defensively. “The mind blowing sex? The day-long escapades into the mountains that generally end up including mind blowing sex? What exactly is getting old, Izzy?”

I was quiet for a second, considering my words. “Not knowing. Not knowing if you’re serious about what you’re telling me, or if you’re just stringing me along. I’ve had my share of men string me along, you know. I don’t want any part of that. Not anymore, not from you.”

“Hey,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me close. His arm went instantly around my waist, and when he held me tight, I felt his manhood thicken in his just-zipped jeans. “When’s the last time I lied to you?”

I looked down and ran my hand along the muscles in his side and copped a little feel. “Never, I guess,” I said.

“Uh-huh. Not once. Right?”

I stroked my hand along his hardening cock. Already I wanted him again, I was so ready for him... I had no idea how he did this to me, even two years on, I had no idea. We just couldn’t get enough of each other.

I nodded and bit my lip. “Can we...?”

That got a half-grin to crawl across Erik’s perfect face. That damn dimple poked out and made my knees go stupid. “I wish,” was all he said.

Groaning, and so full of desire I was about to burst, I finally figured out what he’d done.

Somehow, some way, Erik coming here and stoking the fire between my legs himself had me pumped full of more residual excitement than just some phone sex.

“Don’t tell me,” I said, laughing a little.

“Town council meeting,” Erik said, bending down to kiss me and run his hands underneath my ass. “I love these curves,” he groaned. “But... city business. I’ll drive?”

“Erik?” I said as he turned to the door and I pulled my very wet shorts up, then back off, realizing I needed to change to something less dripping.

“Hmm?”

“I hate you,” I said. “So, so much.” I couldn’t help but grin as I zipped my jeans.

––––––––

“W
hat do you mean he came back? He’s... dead. Unless that old witchdoctor is playing some kind of a terrible joke, how could Atlas be back?”

I watched Erik run his hands through his hair and then lock his fingers behind his head. He always tried feigning relaxation when he was anything but. At his most nervous, he acted almost drunk.

Tapping away at my keyboard, the reactions from the other councilmembers were as entertaining, and as hard to record, as ever.

The nearly-narcoleptic Duggan puffed up, looking just about like he was going to roll into a ball and hiss at someone. He shook his head then his spines, and very quickly went from cute, oversized hedgehog to cranky historian. “When did Jenga stop raising zombies? There’s one in the newspaper every other week causing some sort of trouble. Doesn’t anyone read anymore?” His voice was high pitched, but obviously irritated.

“No,” Erik and Jamie Ampton, a tall woman with very pointy teeth, answered in unison. Jamie was upside down, hanging from the rafter of the building, wrapped in her wings. She sneezed softly, and then she and Erik exchanged a short glance.

“I’m sure you think that’s clever,” Duggan said. “I’m sure you do.”

“Duggan, can we
please
keep the irritable professor act to a minimum until we figure out what’s going on?” That time it was Clay Tomkins, one of only two hyena-shifters in town, who spoke. Shortly after, he took a drink from a cold can of soup. “We’ve got a real problem here that has nothing at all to do with adult literacy. If these reports are true, then this is the first time in our present memory that there have been
two
Alphas of Jamesburg, and that just won’t do!”

A murmur spread through the room, everyone looking at everyone else. Erik gulped twice on his steaming cup of coffee, and Jamie, his partner in quipping, stuck a pencil in her inky black hair then sneezed again. For a second, the two of them stayed silent and let everyone else do the chattering.

Two wolves, the most sensible of the bears, and a cheetah looked at each other, then groaned incoherently. They’d been napping in their animal forms, as I’ve learned the people here tend to enjoy, especially during meetings.

“Izzy,” Erik whispered, turning in my direction. “What do you think of all this?”

“I dunno,” I said. “I don’t even really understand what they’re talking about. There are two alphas? Or I guess one regular alpha and also a zombie alpha? Doesn’t that kind of go against the idea of a... you know, alpha?”

He looked back and forth, but when he noticed that the rest of the twelve council members were either playing on their phones, in the case of Jamie, or trying really hard to keep from screaming at each other, he eased up a little.

“The short version,” he said, “is that this werebear, Atlas Parsons – and yeah, I can tell from your face you are wondering if that’s really his name, it is – spent a lot of time in charge of Jamesburg. He went nuts and then jumped off a building. Real messy. Wait, you’ve heard this before, haven’t you?”

“Duggan told me about him. Or I read it, or something. But that’s not what’s confusing me – what’s got me is how blasé you’re being about it all.”

“That kind of thing is more common than you’d think, especially with the bears. Part of being a shifter is containing your animal instincts. Not all of us manage to do it quite so elegantly as yours truly,” he grinned. “But the bears have the hardest time. That’s why most of them stay off in the woods by themselves and only come to town when they have to. Ruben there is one of the only ones who can keep a lid on it, really.” He tilted his head to the left, indicating the half-transformed, half-sleeping councilmember.

When I first came here, it struck me just how wildly different all the people were. Each group had their own ways, and somehow they managed to come together and not murder each other.

Mostly.

I tapped my fingers lightly on the tops of my keyboard keys, not typing, just tapping. “But... a zombie? That’s a little much.”

Erik shrugged. It wasn’t in his nervous way where he pretends nothing bothers him. He seemed genuinely unexcited about the possibility of a rival alpha coming back to town.

“Thing is, even if he
does
come back, he’s ancient by now. Over a hundred, maybe a hundred and ten. How much of a threat could a geriatric bear be?” He gave me an easy shrug and a mischievous grin. “Probably isn’t even continent anymore. And anyway, I’ve been spoiling for a real fight. Never hurts to get some exercise.”

“Most people think of exercise as doing some squats or going for a run, not fighting some undead and obviously dangerous werebear, Erik.” I shook my head slowly while staring at him, trying to read the look on his face.

Sometimes – rarely, if I’m being honest – I wish he’d tune down the alpha intensity a little. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t need another hedgehog historian, but I have the feeling that caution is a lot less likely to get someone killed.

He laughed, I didn’t. “Erik, he might be old, but from what they’re saying, he’s more of a threat than you’re letting on. Or is this just you playing cool?”

Duggan shuffled up to where Erik sat, and addressed him. “I worry that Jenga might finally have lost his last nut, Erik. If he really has pulled our old alpha up from the ground, what on earth could he be doing it for?”

At that, Jamie stood up and stretched her arms wide, spreading her fingers. That’s the thing about bats – those long bones in their wings are just fingers with skin between them, so Jamie’s got a whole lot of finger to stretch.

“You’re talking crazy,” she said. “I saw him myself. Am I missing something, or is everyone who remembers him going nuts, and jumping off a building onto a bunch of rebar that went right through him forgetting the most important part of all that? Meaning – he was quite a mess. That wouldn’t make a very stable zombie.”

Clay shook his head. His eyes darted back and forth like he was thinking, but like he was also about to do something sneaky. He wasn’t, of course, but that’s just kind of what hyena eyes do.

“Jenga’s been working.” Clay’s voice was halting and quick, just like his glances. “Coulda patched him up, got him running good again.”

Erik raised an eyebrow. “I don’t... is that possible? To make a corpse
better
?”

Clay nodded. “I don’t see why not, I mean practice makes perfect, right? Surely after all these years trying, that crazy old coot might’ve got it right?”

Erik shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, Jenga’s zombies, even the ones that work correctly, er, so to speak, aren’t exactly stalwart. He uses them to pick fruits around his house, to turn his generator and things. I’m having trouble imagining a scenario where he’s re-animated a ten-year old corpse and has some grand plans with it past, I dunno, having it show up in a drive-through for a prank.”

“Dinna mean he couldna figured out some other way to do it,” one of the less-vocal councilmembers said. I couldn’t remember the man’s name, but he was wearing blue coveralls and was chewing a cigar. “Or maybe he just got better, know what I mean?”

“Not really, Fergus,” Erik said. “Maybe give me a little something more to work with?”

Fergus McDonald – he’s a Scotsman who farms outside of town and a member of the panther troupe. That always entertained me because I can’t think of a single thing less Scottish than a panther.