Wolf Tales VI. Kate Douglas
her paws, the sound and scent of her packmates beside her. The sense of belonging, of being one with nature and the pack.
She’d known that closeness for such a brief time, but the feeling hadn’t left her. The sense of brotherhood, of family. Of belonging. Still, she’d had a good enough reason to leave after a mere taste of what her life could be, hadn’t she? Discovering she was a shapeshifting Chanku with the ability to switch instantly from woman to wolf had opened her life to freedoms she’d never imagined but always craved. Freedom she would have given up had she stayed with the man who wanted so badly to claim her.
Adam Wolf. Damn, how she missed him.
She brushed the unwelcome sting of tears from her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly regained control of her shattered emotions. It had to be the adrenaline from the attack. That’s all it was. Adrenaline and nerves. Not Adam. Never Adam.
Talk about sucky timing. She’d wanted independence her entire life. When it was finally handed to her, even beyond the amazing power of the wolf, she was every bit as trapped by love as she’d ever been by circumstances. Recognizing her unhappiness, Anton Cheval, the uncontested leader of the Montana pack, had given her a beautiful, cherried out antique Ford pickup to drive, credit cards with unlimited funds, and a pocketful of cash.
The fact the truck was supposed to go to his packmate, Stefan Aragat, as a birthday gift, hadn’t seemed to bother Anton a bit. He seemed certain Eve would have it back in time.
So what had she done with his largesse? Driven clear across the country to the town she’d grown up in, parked her butt in a nicer motel that she’d ever been able to afford before in her life, and waited to see what would happen next.
So far, nothing good had come her way, and she had no idea what had drawn her back. No idea what was good enough in Tampa to lure her away from the beauty of Montana and people who loved her.
What kind of fool was she?
Eve freshened the washcloth under the faucet and wrung the excess water out of it. This time she held the cloth against the bruises on her left breast where the flesh had been so cruelly twisted. She had no one to blame but herself for tonight’s little episode, but damn, she hurt all over and felt like a fool. A very lonely fool.
She’d had such a short time in Montana with Adam Wolf. The name alone should have warned her, but he’d been everything she’d ever wanted in a man…and more. They’d found a connection unlike anything she’d experienced. When he’d brought Oliver, the quiet young man who worked for Anton Cheval, into their bed, the sex had been little short of mind-blowing.
So, what did she do? She ran. Fast and far, afraid of the overwhelming emotions, frightened as much by the changes in her body as she finally embraced her wolven, Chanku heritage, as she’d been by her attraction to Adam.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to leave her libido behind. Tonight, she’d lost control, and along with it, what little respect she thought she’d held on to. She’d wanted sex. She’d wanted a repeat of that amazing night with Adam and Oliver. Every night since coming to Tampa, she’d found a quiet place to run as the wolf, to learn more about her new body. The downside of the exhilaration she experienced on four legs was that damned Chanku libido. Desire, hot and potent, streaming like a living entity through her veins, and needs she really couldn’t satisfy on her own, no matter how fresh she kept the batteries in her electronic buddy.
Each night she returned to this room aroused beyond belief, her blood racing, sexual desire taking precedence over all other instincts, all sense of caution. How else could she explain what she’d done tonight? She’d gone trolling for a man.
The two men from the bar had seemed nice enough at first. She’d led them on, invited them back to her room. Eve thought she wanted both men and all they promised, but when it came right down to it, she’d not wanted them at all.
She’d wanted her own kind. Her body still thrummed with the dark cravings, the sexual needs unfulfilled these past three weeks since she’d left Adam. Cravings that intensified each time she shifted, each time she raced through the night on four legs, searching for others of her kind even though she knew there were none here.
Needs she’d thought she might satisfy with the two men she’d brought home with her tonight. Except, once again, it had felt all wrong.
They’d both kissed her, a man on either side in the front seat of the big pickup truck. The larger of the two had been the most aggressive. He’d stroked the warm folds between her legs, rubbing her through the soft cotton of her shorts, and her body had responded. Her breasts tingled, her pussy clenched and creamed and she’d thought it might work. She’d hoped her body would continue to react, but his kisses weren’t Adam’s. His touch wasn’t as loving as Oliver’s. He didn’t understand the needs of the wolf and his mind was closed to her deepest desires. Would it always be this way? Would she only find satisfaction among other Chanku?
Sighing, Eve stretched out on the bed and held the damp washcloth against her breasts. It didn’t do a thing to ease the all-consuming ache between her legs. The constant throbbing, the clenching of muscles too long denied, the desperate need for penetration, for sexual release.
She lay there in the dark, naked and sweating. The little air conditioner hummed and rattled, but it didn’t touch the thick Florida heat. She retraced the past month of her life, the three weeks since leaving Montana. So much had happened in those few days after she’d met Keisha Rialto and Alexandria Olanet, when their wonderfully protective mates, Anton and Stefan, had rescued her from an abusive relationship turned deadly.
Why was she always drawn to losers? Probably for the same stupid reason she’d walked away from the finest man she’d ever known. She was an idiot, pure and simple. Too stupid to live…wasn’t that how the saying went? TSTL? It fit her perfectly.
Her life was spinning out of control, twisting pointlessly in a maelstrom of need and arousal, of desperate cravings and unfulfilled desires. And she was lonely. So damned lonely. Eve rolled her hips against the bed, imagining Oliver beneath her and Adam between her legs. The memory brought forth a rush of fluids and a hollow, empty feeling deep inside.
She clutched the bedspread with both hands, accepting her needs, her powerful desires. Accepting, yet wondering how it could happen, how she could take this woman’s body and become a wolf?
How she could take a man like Adam Wolf into her bed, into her heart, and find real love? The kind of love in fairy tales. The kind of love she’d always been denied.
Take that love and then stupidly walk away from it.
Once she’d discovered her heritage as a shapeshifter, a member of an ancient race that somehow appeared on the inhospitable Himalayan steppe so many eons ago, everything had changed. It was hard to say what was the biggest thing that had happened—shifting into a wolf, or meeting Adam, a man so tender and loving he made her ache with wanting. A man who claimed his only desire was to fix things.
Eve wondered if it was too late, if now that she’d left him, would he ever be able to fix her? Would he even want to?
Not if you keep running away, you idiot.
Nothing quite so sensitive as an inner critic. Eve moved the washcloth to her right breast. Her nipple tightened almost painfully when she scraped the sensitive tip with the cotton cloth, so she repeated the motion. Again. And again.
She shifted her hips against the wrinkled bedspread and her body felt all itchy and achy. She wanted to run. Wanted to shift and become the wolf and race through the forest. She hadn’t run tonight. She wanted the wild and cool forests of Montana, not the hot and humid parks and gardens around Tampa, Florida.
She wanted to hunt for rabbits and deer, not worry about stepping on a cottonmouth snake, or running full tilt into a hungry alligator.
What the hell was she doing here, anyway?
Idly rubbing at her taut nipple, Eve reached between her legs and stroked her clit with her other hand. The tiny nub stood upright, hard and slick with her cream. She bit back a