The Wolf Who Loved Her

The Wolf Who Loved Her

Kasey Moone

Published by Phaze Books

Also by Kasey Moone

Her Snowbound Knight

Bubble Bath Delight*

*Forthcoming

This is an explicit and erotic novel

intended for the enjoyment

of adult readers. Please keep

out of the hands of children.

www.Phaze.com

The Wolf Who Loved Her

Copyright © 2012 by Kasey Moone

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Edited by Sarah-Jane Lehoux

Cover Art © 2012 by Sarah-Jane Lehoux

First Edition June 2012

ISBN-13:
978-1-60659-681-4

Published by:

Phaze Books

An imprint of Mundania Press LLC

6457 Glenway Ave., #109

Cincinnati, OH 45211

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, Mundania Press LLC, 6457 Glenway Avenue, #109, Cincinnati, Ohio 45211, [email protected].

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without permission from Mundania Press LLC. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights and livelihood is appreciated.

Chapter One

Jonalle Watson grunted at the pressure. The book weighed a ton. Why did she always have to find the most difficult places to stash her large antique books? Shouldn’t they be lower? The Dewey Decimal System be damned!
She
was the owner of Magick Books, so
she
could place her books wherever she wanted, gosh-darn it. She nodded her head and lifted her chin.

That’s right!

She secured the book, walked down the ladder, reached for another in the cart, and headed back up the steps. It was going to take all night; this re-shelving business. And it was already only thirty minutes until closing time. She growled. It was a never-ending story. Tomorrow, she’d have to get up and start the tedious process all over again. That was her life: a series of predictable events that left her longing for excitement. Her friends were right. At twenty five, she was too young for spinsterhood. She needed to experience danger and adventure. She needed to kick her cautious life to the curve—for good.

Joni craned her neck back and studied her store. She had tried to give her establishment a down to earth feel with warm beige and green color schemes, but now she wondered if it was all too much. Maybe she was trying too hard.

She rolled her eyes at the morose thought.

Pity parties ain’t your thing, honey.

With one deep breath, she worked to gain her composure. Though she’d been open for a month in the quaint Milwaukee square, only a handful of business came her way. Mostly from teenagers who thought books about the supernatural were “rad.” Though she appreciated their business, she needed new clients. Preferably ones with full time jobs. Kid money would only get her so far.

She flicked her micro braids out of her face. She just had to remain optimistic, is all. Business was bound to pick up. Staying positive was the only way out of this mess. The chiming of the front doorbell yanked her from her pep talk.

“Be with you in a sec,” she yelled over her shoulder, wrestling with another difficult book. On the verge of securing its location, she groaned when it toppled from her hands and fell to the floor with a loud thud. Her potty mouth reared its nasty head.

“Fuck me!”

Suddenly she felt eyes boring into her.
Great.
She just had to lose her cool in front of a customer. A potential
paying
customer.
Real professional, Joni.
She pasted a bright smile onto her face and turned around slowly. And blinked. And blinked again. Below her stood the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. He stared up at her with mossy green eyes that looked shockingly bright against his smooth, pale skin. Shoulder-length, inky black hair curled at his temple. He had a chiseled jaw, with a purple bruise on the side as though he’d been in a recent fight, and sensual pink lips. Broad shoulders and tight biceps made up his tall lean body. He must’ve been at least 6’2. A giant, really. A leather bomber jacket, gray sweater, and dark jeans did little to hide his impressive package. He looked like one of those rock hard soldiers from the movies, except he was the real McCoy.
Hubba hubba.

Heat rose on her face...and between her legs.

Joni moved her mouth in an attempt to form intelligent syllables, but her vocal chords were on strike. It was a first for her.

The man continued to stare at her, waiting. She suddenly wished for tight bootylicious jeans and a cute top. Not the baggy corduroys and dingy sweater she sported. She looked like a child.

“Hi,” she offered. “Sorry about that.”

She watched the man retrieve the book. He handed it to her and grimaced. Didn’t he know how to crack a smile? He was wound up as tight as a clock.

“Here.”

“Um, thanks.” She pushed the book back in place and looked back at the hunk. He still eyed her with that emotionless expression. If he thought to intimidate her with his stoicism, he had another think coming!

“Can I help you?”

“You can come down the ladder for one,” he snapped.

Joni sucked in a breath. So, he was going to be a nasty customer then. No problem. She had her share of difficult patrons. Lifting her chin, she glided down the ladder, attempting to illustrate her composure, but her foot got caught in the last rung. A screech escaped her as she fell. Strong arms enveloped her before the impact. She clung to bulging biceps, mortified at her clumsiness, as black stubble scratched her cheeks.

The scent of cologne and cinnamon filled her senses, and something else, something wild and earthy that made her sniff him like a cat in heat. The man smelled good. She righted herself quickly and looked into his light green eyes. Noticing for the first time that his nose was crooked, and that the purple bruise on his jaw was nastier up close, Joni stared, her hand hovering above the mark.

“Did someone hurt you?”

He said not a word. Just gazed at her, deathly silent. She stiffened. What was his deal? Was he upset about the fall? She was not going to apologize for her clumsiness.

“Do you need ice?”

“No.” He nodded towards the ladder. “Do you?”

She grinned. “I’m okay. I fall all the time. What about ice for you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure about that?”

“Yes.”

“’Cause I keep First Aid behind my desk.”

“I’m fine.”

“’Cause it looks like—”

“I heal fast.”

She frowned.
What an odd thing to say.

“Well, thanks for catching me then,” she mumbled, eying the bruise, absently wondering who’d have the courage to plant this man with a punch. He looked dangerous, unpredictable, muscle-ripped to the core. Shit, he’d probably made a ham sandwich out of the other man. Her eyes locked with his. To keep from groaning, she swallowed. Hard. God, he was fine.

Silence ensued.

Confused as to what to say and do next, she stood there awkwardly, sequestered between the bookshelves. They were closer than she remembered. One step forward and she’d be pressed against him.

He finally spoke. “I need a book.”

Joni mentally slapped herself.
Of course he needed a book. She could help him with that!

“Which one?”

“
Contemporary Magic 101
. Got it?”

Joni put on her game face and tried to make a sell. “Yes, I have that. I have everything that deals with the art of magic and clairvoyance. Don’t be fooled by the size of this establishment. I keep all of the best books here, so if you ever—”

“Get it.”

She snapped her mouth shut. The nerve of the jerk! So she rambled on when she was nervous, but who could blame her in this situation? And who did he think he was barking orders like he was Captain Hero? More like Captain Zero. Annoyed that she found the rude man irresistible, she sucked in a patient breath.
Don’t let this statue of a man get under your skin, girl.
You need to make a sell. You need to make a sell.

She pointed towards the front. “Just wait up there, sir, and I’ll be right with you.”

****

Ian McNeal hid his smile. Had he upset the frumpy woman? Too bad. He didn’t have the time or patience for talkative humans tonight. Not when his blood still churned from the recent fight.

His lips curled. So many people in the city tried to test his fucking patience. Not just members of his pack, but random werebabes at clubs. The kind of wolves bent on earning a name for themselves by attacking an alpha.

Eyes narrowed, he rubbed his jaw, tension stiffening his muscles.

He was worked up.

He needed release.

Beneath hooded lids, his eyes drifted to the woman, taking in every detail. She was short and round, with boobs and an ass to die for. Skin the color of mahogany. Tiny, curly intricate braids that fell around her shoulders and her sweet oval face. A small mole sat above the corner of her lips. Pretty. Not drop dead gorgeous like the women he bedded in the past, but pretty enough, despite her muddy clothes and tedious talking. He sneered. She was human. And one thing was certain: he did not fuck humans.

As if on their own accord, his eyes drifted back to the woman’s ass, giving him ample time to reconsider his thoughts. He thought about how she’d worried about his jaw, and grinned. Maybe he should’ve told her that he’d beaten the shit out of the other fella. Maybe that would have put her mind at ease.
Shit
, he thought, annoyed at his softness. Why concern himself? Human worries were of no importance to him.

Suddenly the AC rattled, and a waft of her scent hit him like a drug. He took a steadying breath, tried to ignore her powerful aroma, but found it useless. His cock grew rock hard, his balls swelling to full capacity. My God, what was happening to him?

Compared to his fellow
lycans
, he was the epitome of control. Calm, cool, and detached. Always the level-headed one in the clan. But the thrill of the recent fight and the scent of the human woman was screwing up his concentration.

He glared at the bookshelves. How long did it take to find a book? Minutes later she approached the front register, his book in tow. Up close, he stared at the pink gloss on her lips. They were good, kissable lips. Sensing his intense appraisal, she looked up.

“That’ll be twelve bucks.”

He tossed her a fifty. “Keep the change.”

“Excuse me?”

He tilted his head and slowly repeated his words. “Keep the change.”

Her eyes narrowed and the vein in her neck ticked. The woman was no push-over. Inside, he smiled in appreciation then stared, wondering what she was going to say next. Most women jumped when a McNeal said jump, even those who knew nothing of his lineage, but this little human had guts.