Her Viking Wolves: 50 Loving States, Michigan (13 page)

“
D
o not talk any further
.”

I find myself blinking in the wake of his polite Viking-raised-by-a-modern-woman version of “shut the hell up.”

“Okay, that’s cool,” I say. “I’m totally good with shutting up. In fact why don’t you stay here. I can go into town alone…”

I start to stand up, only to get yanked backwards. The next thing I know I’m in FJ’s lap.
In FJ’s lap.
Once again looking into his intense gray eyes, this time from within his arms.

“What are you doing?” I demand, struggling to get my hands between us so I can break away.

“Be at ease,
Varra
. I only mean to kiss you.”

Oh, he only means to… “Wait! What?! Dude, no! That’s not cool. Do not kiss me. Do not—”

He kisses me, tongue delving deep as he takes my words away with his mouth.

And it’s not cool.
Totally
not cool…

But
damn
does it feel good. All strong arms and pressure as he pulls me even further into his lap, so his hard length is pressing against my ass as his insistent tongue invades my mouth.

It’s so wrong, but somehow I find myself melting into it, helpless to stop myself from kissing him back. I finally begin to understand why most she-wolves enjoy this so much.

It’s just so fascinating…and hot…and soft.

I would have thought his beard would be like kissing a brillo pad, but it’s silky against my skin. Like Olafr’s fur, and I unconsciously find myself reaching up to touch it, stroking it under my fingers as I receive what I didn’t think I’d be getting until my wedding day.

My very first kiss.

Yes, you read that right. Step right up, ladies and gentlemen, and witness the thirty-something-year-old virgin who’s never been kissed!

Honestly, it’s not as pathetic as it sounds. Okay, I’m going to stop lying. It’s pretty damn pathetic. Most she-wolves my age are already mated with a child by now. And even if they’re still single, there’s a strong possibility they’ve been kissed by someone at least once.

It’s just that I’m…I don’t know, I guess I’m not comfortable in my own skin. And Detroit wolves, you have to understand, often seem to have won the genetic lottery—at least when it comes to looks. Most sprout into hunky gods before they’re even out of middle school, which makes it like going to class with the cutest members of your favorite boy band—if the cutest members of your favorite boy band were all over six-feet tall and sported rock solid abs of steel. As you might imagine, this was rarely a problem for most teenage girls.

But I’ve always been this huge, dark-skinned computer nerd, way more fluent in programming languages than in any spoken languages. And even my princess status isn’t enough to make up for all that awkward sauce when you consider I can barely even look anyone in the eye for more than a few seconds.

By the time my confidence grew after the hell that was high school, all thanks to my first hit videogame, it was too late for me. I was living in my room, surrounded by computers, and conducting all of my non-family interpersonal relationships on Skype.

Looking back on my life, I probably should have seen what was coming with Kyle. Because let’s face it, why else would a perfectly nice, attractive wolf want to be with me? No, stuff like that just doesn’t happen to women like me—not even in the movies. Male wolves aren’t exactly lining up for she-wolves who spend all their time with computers and drink Mountain Dew like it’s liquid gold.

Maybe that’s why I’m kissing FJ back. Why I’m unable to pull myself away. Because I’m shocked this is happening at all. My body is paralyzed. Well, at least paralyzed from doing anything other than stroking his beard and making low moaning sounds in the back of my throat. The little voice in my head pipes up to let me know I sound like I’m auditioning for a porno and am probably not going to get a call back. But I ignore it in favor of obsessing over this kiss—
Am I doing it right
? I wonder.
I hope I’m not screwing up.

But when FJ finally releases me from our insanely addictive lip lock, he’s smiling like he just won the lottery.

“By the gods, your kisses astonish me,” he proclaims. “I like the way you stroke my beard even as you return my kiss so fiercely,
Varra
.”

As far as compliments go, this one is so odd that I can’t help but laugh a little. “Thanks,” I say weakly. “But…just so you know—”

He sighs, loudly interrupting my attempt to reset some much-needed boundaries.

“
Varra
,” he says sternly. “I would not have you open your mouth to say, ‘This changes nothing’ yet again.”

“But it doesn’t…”

I trail off when a happy grin suddenly spreads across his face.

“What?” I ask. “Why are you smiling at me like that?”

“Your eyes have not fallen from mine since we stopped our kiss.”

And…cue the shoulder stare. “That’s because I’m trying to convince you—”

But he tips my chin up, once again forcing me to meet his eyes. “The kiss was good,
Varra
. Your wolf knows what your human would deny.”

This time when I look away, he follows me with his head, bending to get in the way of my runaway eyes as he declares, “You are our she-wolf, and I am your fenrir.”

He kisses me again, and shit…is it supposed to feel like fireworks are going off inside your heart when that happens? Because when he kisses me, I can barely think, much less try to explain that just because I’m emotionally stunted and can’t figure out how not to kiss him back, it doesn’t mean this mating thing is going to happen.

I can’t think, can’t speak, but apparently I can still move, because this time when FJ stops, breathing hard against my mouth, somehow my hands are in his beard again.

Dammit
! I think, dropping them to lie awkwardly on his shoulders.

But I can feel him smiling against my lips as he says, “Yes, that was a very good petting,
Varra
. I would return the favor, but I think you unready.”

“Wow…did your mom warn you about touching a black woman’s hair unless you really know her—and ask permission first?”

A moment of confusion, then he leans back with a belly laugh.

“Oh, you do charm me with your strange words and stranger mind. But nay, never has my mother issued such warning to me.”

“Oh,” I say feeling silly…then confused. “But then why would you think I’m not ready to be petted?”

His eyes twinkle with dark amusement. “It is not the hair above thy waist I am interested in petting,
Varra
.”

Oh…
Oh.

And that’s when I realize we’re in total eye contact mode again.

I shift, look away, and tell his shoulder, “Well, that’s not going to happen. Seriously. It’s not.”

“No, it won’t,” he agrees. “Because you are not yet ready. My father’s gods know I would wish it otherwise, but I am a patient male and my brother says your time comes near. I will wait until both you and your wolf are ready to receive my petting.”

That proclaimed, he takes a deep breath through his nose and pulls me out of his lap, setting me away from him on the bench like I’m a whole carton of ice cream and he just decided to go on a diet.

“Excuse me,
Varra
,” he says, standing up. “Now it is I who really does require long walk. Aunt Alisha has given to me some of the paper you use to trade for goods. I shall procure some Mountain Dew and a red cow for you.”

“Red
Bull
,” I correct, smiling at the error. “And you know those are drinks, don’t you? Like, sodas you get at the convenience store?”

FJ smiles, the action handsoming up his entire face. “I know this now.”

And I kid you not, I find myself looking directly into his eyes again. What. The. Hell?

“Seriously, I can get it myself,” I say, standing up. Letting him do this for me feels weird. I’m used to taking care of my own needs. And doesn’t he have a dragon war room to get back to or something?

But he insists, “I would do this for you,
Varra
. You may sleep while you await my return.”

He leaves before I can say anything more. And I stand there, not quite sure what to do. I don’t necessarily want him running errands for me, but trying to catch up with him feels a little silly considering all the work I have waiting for me back in my room. And, also after…

I shiver. But not because of the cold. He shouldn’t have kissed me. He really shouldn’t have. And I really, really, really shouldn’t have kissed him back.

I have no excuse other than…it was my first kiss. And my first second kiss. The whole experience obviously short-circuited my common sense.

Still, there is a lot of mental hand wringing as I trudge through the snow back to the house. Because I have to wonder what this means for my chances of convincing the Viking brothers to leave this time period without me.

Biting my lip, I look back over my shoulder at FJ. Only to find him in the same place by the bench. Like a date who’s dropped me off and wants to make sure I get inside the house before he leaves. Not that I’ve ever been on a date, but they seem to do that a lot on TV.

“Seriously, this doesn’t change anything!” I say, shouting so he can hear me over the cold Alaska wind.

“I know,” he answers back. Even though he’s much further away now, he doesn’t have to shout. His voice travels to me clear as a high-res sound file. “This changes
everything
.”

I
t looks
like Olafr’s asleep when I return, his furry body splayed across the girls’ feet. But I guess not, because when I start up the stairs I can hear him loping behind me. But this time when I get to my guestroom door, I resist the urge to reach down and pet him. Instead, I open the door without so much as a bye.

Olafr watches me go in, looking as if I’ve just stabbed his wolf’s heart, but I stay strong.

You don’t want to be friends with this wolf
, I remind myself. And I close the door, thinking of how badly I just muddled things with his brother. It’s already going to take a whole slew of arguments to get me out of the huge mixed message I just sent FJ.

FJ, who’s staying down the hall from me. Just two doors down on the other side of Tu and Grady’s room.

A totally not fair image of me crawling into his bed and being greeted by another one of his hot kisses invades my mind. I’ve never in my life gotten into such a heated argument with someone. I think of the way it felt to finally stand up for myself for once. To look him in the eye. The way my heart thundered…and then dropped straight down into my stomach when he kissed me.

“This changes everything.”

I shake my head.
No, no, no! Get out of my head, stupid Viking prince. I’ve got work to do
…

I grab on to that thought like I’m hanging on to a tree in storm.

What I don’t need are thoughts of an outrageously fine werewolf with a smile that makes me feel all squishy inside, and a way of kissing that makes me feel like I’ve left the oven on somewhere.

What I
do
need is to get back to my work, which has always been there for me and would never end an argument by pulling me into its lap and kissing the hell out of me.

I head to my desk, determined to get my mind back on track. When I open my laptop, I see that Iggle’s already sent me her review notes. Great. That means I can go over the project one more time before tonight’s Skype session with the Korean firm.

But I feel a fog of weariness settle over me as soon as I start reviewing Iggle’s notes. I try to type…only to have the words blur. Damn, my last Red Bull is already wearing off.

Okay, maybe I should take a rock star. In this case, the nap kind, not the energy drink. Just a fifteen-minute snooze to get my brain back in gear. Then I’ll get up as soon as FJ returns with my Mountain Dew and Red Bull.

I crawl into bed…

….and when I wake, the room is blazing hot. Probably because of the sun, now high in the sky and shining through the room’s large panoramic window.

So it’s definitely no longer morning.

That’s fine
, I think. I’ve lost a couple of hours, but I can make them up by skipping dinner downstairs. Again.

Which I know Aunt Wilma hates, but it’s not like the dinner table is all that inviting lately with a certain Viking houseguest in attendance. Yeah, I’m definitely skipping dinner.

I pick up the phone to text Janelle so she can let Aunt Wilma know I won’t be coming down…only to croak out loud when I see the time display on the screen. Not because it’s 1:37 PM, about an hour later than I thought. But because of the date. January 4, which can’t be right because today’s January 3.

But then I see the screen full of missed message notifications beneath

“No, no, no!” I say, stumbling over to my laptop. “Please tell me I didn’t miss the concept call!”

But apparently I did. The red circle on the icon of my mail program, which I rigorously keep at Inbox Zero, has a double digit number now; and iMessenger has a triple digit number, with a message from Iggle in the gray slider box.

WTF!!! Where are you???? Had to do the concept meeting alone and I’m having to ED like a MF up in here!!! WTH, Tee??!!!!

ED—Iggle speak for making executive decisions on every single question that’s come in since the concept meeting, which she handled alone. Iggle, who wakes and bakes like most people drink a cup of coffee in the morning.

No. This cannot be happening.

Why didn’t anyone wake me? Usually Aunt Wilma sends someone up to knock on the door when I don’t come down for dinner—

The answer to that question comes to me in a furry flash.
Olafr
. More specifically, Olafr and FJ. Not only did FJ not bring me my supplies, but I’m betting Olafr decided to make sure no one knocked on my door last night or this morning. Which is pretty easy to do, when you’re a huge-ass wolf standing in front of someone’s bedroom door.

Okay, first thing’s first. I need to put out all the fires at work, then I’ll deal with the overbearing Viking wolf brothers.

With an annoyed grunt, I start furiously typing a message back to Iggle. Only to stop when I realize there’s sweat dripping into my eyes.

What is up with the heating system right now?
I think, as I mop my forehead with the back of my hand and take off my sweater. I know heat rises and I’m on the third floor, but they must be blasting the furnace downstairs. I’ve never been so uncomfortable. It feels like my entire body is swollen.

I open a new iMessage screen and type to Janelle: Would you mind turning down the heat? It’s getting really hot up here.

Short pause. Then a message pops up from Janelle: What do you mean? On third floor, hanging out with Tu and we’re fine.

What? How could they be comfortable in this heat? I peel off the vintage Mortal Kombat t-shirt I was wearing underneath the sweater, leaving myself in just my bra and leggings. But that still doesn’t help.

My body still feels overripe with heat and I sway a little, my head swimming in a sea of hot air.

Seriously? I barely manage to type back. It’s burning up in here.

This time the pause is much longer, and a weird pulsing starts in the back of my head. Not quite a headache. More like a heartbeat, located in the wrong place on my body, that seems to expand with every pulse.

iMessage dings.

Are you sure you’re okay?

No, I’m not okay. I stumble out of the chair and crawl back into bed, peeling off my leggings as I go. But even my bra and panties feel like sandpaper rubbing against my overheated skin. The fever is everywhere now, and it feels like the heartbeat sensation has taken over my entire body. No longer a pulse, but a powerful throbbing.

My whole body is throbbing. Throbbing so keenly and burning so hot, I can’t think about anything but the sensation.

Yeah, I must be sick. Obviously, I’ve come down with something nasty, which doesn’t make much sense because shifters don’t really get sick with common ailments like colds and flus. But what else could it be?

As if in answer to my question, I feel something begin to drip out of me. Wetting my thighs. Did I just pee myself!? I reach down. No, that is not pee. Dense, but thin. Liquid, but sticky. And pungent. What the hell?!

And the smell of it…spicy and hot…and completely overwhelming. Almost immediately, it fills up the entire room, bursting through the air like an air horn at a football game, and flooding the previously quiet space with its sudden noise.

That’s when the house erupts into a flurry of sound. Doors slamming open on the floors below. Feet running up and down steps. Voices yelling…something about getting down to the changing cages because the full moon’s coming up in a couple of days and they can’t risk changing in the middle of a heat frenzy.

Someone’s gone into the heat,
I realize foggily. I wonder who…?

The ugly answer crashes down on me like an avalanche. Making my entire body go cold—right before what feels like a forest fire erupts inside my womb. Burning me up from the inside as my sex clenches hard, demanding to be filled.

See, this is what happens when you grow up sheltered in a household with mostly men and one heat-deficient woman and then proceed to spend most of your adult life inside your room. It takes you forever to realize what’s happening to your body, what’s thrown the entire kingdom house into chaos, is you.

I’m in heat.
The three words blaze across my brain, seeming both impossible and certain.
I’m in heat.

Then comes the strangest sound. Metal rattling against wood. Somebody is outside my locked door. Shaking the doorknob. Trying to get in.

“Oh God,” I whisper to myself, feeling like I’m drowning in a sea of foreign sensations.

The rattling comes to an abrupt stop…

And is then replaced with dark, heavy thuds. My stomach goes into free fall. Someone is out there, throwing his body against the door.

One more thud…two…and the door comes crashing open with a loud crack. It flies off its hinges and lands on the floor to reveal…a very huge and very naked Olafr. Now in human form.

All words freeze inside my throat at the sight of him. Big as a mountain, with a straining erection, so large it feels obscene to look at.

Yet, I can’t look away from it. Or him.

There is a moment. A moment in which I know what I need to say, but fail to say it.

No
—that’s what I need to say right now.

But the fever is so overwhelming, soaking my naked body with sweat. And the throbbing. It’s gone from an air horn to a tornado siren, so deafening, I can’t hear anything over it.

And the heat. The smell is everywhere, filling up my nose, drenching my thighs with its slick liquid.

I can barely breathe, much less say what I should be saying:
No. You’re wolf-bound and I’m a conscionable person. We can’t do this!

And then the moment is over.

How fast does he move? So fast it feels like getting hit by a heavy blur of body parts. Large hands easily flip me onto my stomach. Fumbling with my cotton panties, before deciding to rip them apart. Fingers wraps around my hips and jerk my ass upwards. A heavy chest blankets my back and, oh God…a strong pair of teeth bites down on my shoulder. And then comes the final body part, his cock at my entrance as he mounts me in the way of the wolf.

I finally find my voice. But instead of saying,
“Olafr, we can’t. It’s not right!”
I cry out like a female crazed, “Yes, please! Oh God, yes! Put it in me.”

Both my thoughts and voice cut off with a loud scream when he plunges into me from behind. Pain. So much pain. And nothing but pain. My mind nearly blanks out with it, and I struggle, trying to get away.

But that only seems to make the beast on top of me grow wilder. He holds me still with his large body and teeth, growling into the back of my neck as he plunges into me again.

Soon, I feel more slick liquid. Not my heat. But him releasing inside me as an almost unbearable pressure starts at the place where our bodies meet. I can feel him swelling inside. In a way that would almost feel good if not for the residual pain of my human body’s destroyed hymen.

No, he’s not swelling, I soon realize. But knotting. He’s knotting inside me, the base of his dick expanding so he can lock himself inside my pussy, ensuring I receive as much of his seed as possible.

Now I really struggle, with more strength than I knew I had.

He’s wolf-bound. We can’t do this!

But he’s stronger than me. So much stronger. He holds me there. Teeth in my shoulder, large cock embedded in my small space, huge body pinning me down until I finally give up, sobbing with shame into the pillow beneath my cheek, even as I can feel myself clenching around his large cock. Milking his dick and dragging more of his seed inside me. The she-wolf’s automatic response to being mated.

That’s it. It’s over. No fight left to be had. He’s all the way knotted in me now, and thanks to a comprehensive wolf Sex Ed class in middle school, I know it will take anywhere from twenty to ninety minutes before we’re able to physically separate.

We lie there, curled up together. Both breathing hard, the pain slowly starting to subside. But then to my surprise, I feel him start to deflate. And then his hands are on me again. This time in my hair. Petting me clumsily.

“
Varra
,” I hear him say, slow and thick, like he’s coming out of some kind of trance.

But I’m not able to wonder at this for too long. Because almost as soon as he comes out, something unthinkable begins to happen.

My heat scent releases again, the roar of it like the arrival of my dad’s Dark Wolf motorcycle gang at our house before a wedding.

“
Varra
,” Olafr croaks again, reaching for me.

I knock his hands away and scramble out of the bed.

“
Varra
!” I hear him call after me again.

But I don’t stop. I run into the closet and slam the door behind me, breaking down in ugly sobs as I let the darkness take over.