Werewolf Romance Rough Sex Erotica: Make Her Howl

This is a work of fiction intended for adults age 18 and over. Minors should stop here and close the book.

All events depicted are fictional.
Characters are consenting adults.
Any resemblance to places and persons, living or dead, is unintentional coincidence.

Every effort has been made to provide a quality reading experience, but editors and technology are fallible. Please report typos or formatting issues to [email protected].

Make Her Howl

I raised the
wine bottle in a toast.
“Happy twenty fifth birthday to me.” My living room was empty so no one answered or looked
at me funny
when I went on to say
,
“
And to being run out of town
.” With a morose frown, I tipped the bottle back against my lips and let the fruity wine flood my mouth. Using a glass was an unnecessary formality when drinking alone.

Taking another slug from the bottle, I contemplated my immediate future. Tomorrow I would load up a moving truck and go out to make my life among humans. Even though I wasn’t one.
Technically.
But those were the rules and I didn’t belong in Hunt
s
ville. Not anymore.

A knock sounded at my door.

“Pizza’s here,” I said. Talking to myself kept me from being lonely. I fumbled with my purse and extracted the requisite twenty. Flinging my front door open, I accepted the box from
Peter. H
e was seventeen
with a lanky frame still waiting to fill out.
He’d been my pizza guy for at least a year.
“Thanks, Pete.” I offered the money.

He held up his hands. “This one’s on me, M
is
s. Stark.” He looked at me with pity. He knew. Hell, they
all
knew. I was the talk of the town. Th
e only null in four generations, and
the horror that kept the paren
ts of Huntsville up at night. T
he frightful aberration they used to make children behave.

Clean your room or you won’t change
either
.

Eat yo
ur peas or you’ll be homeless
too
.

I blinked and swallowed back the bitterness. “Thanks.”

“Good luck, Miss Stark.”

“Luck has passed me by, Pete.” He didn’t k
now what to say to that and
shifted un
comfortably, staring at
his feet. I saved him further discomfort by slamming the door shut,
and
retreating into the living room with the pizza.

I’d
taken two bites when there
another kn
ock
sounded
at the door. I froze, my brow
furrowed at the noise
. The knock came again. I finished chewing and went to the door, irritation creeping up my spine.

I flung the door open a little harder than I’d intended and it bounced
off the wall, forcing me to keep
it from closing with my hand. “What is it, Pete?” My tone was hostile.

“Hell
o Chloe.”

I would never mistake
that deep baritone for an adolescent pizza delivery boy.

My breath caught in my throat and I looked u
p, up and
up
to meet the gaze of Jackson
Swift
. Th
ere are bad boys and
there’s badass. Jackson was very much the latter. He’d moved
to Huntsville at the invitation of the pack alpha.
I’d given him wide berth
because staying out of pack business was expected of me and a new wolf was definitely pack business
.

We’d worked together
for a bit at the bar. I’d
waitressed there
ever since I was of age
,
and
,
six months ago
,
he sweet talked his way into bartending
.
I’d seen it happen. My boss, Sheila, had swooned like a flower in a wind storm. She was putty in his hands.

Whenever we worked the same shift
, h
e’d watched me like h
e was hungry and I was raw steak
. It weirded me out
,
and I
avoided him every chance I got.
A few times he
had
even
tried to talk to me, but
I had just turned around and gone
the other way
, heat burning my cheeks
. Soon whatever interest he had in me
cooled
and he’d focused his attention on
Allison, the bar
slu
t. She went home with everyone.

For the record, I never went home with anyone.

Mostly because no one wanted me.

“What are you doing here?” My
eyes narrowed and I shifted my weight back, ready to step into the house and slam the door for a second time that night.
Yet d
espite my wariness I couldn’t hel
p but drink in the sight of him;
h
andsome as rock
star and built like a fireman. He should be on a stud-of-the-month calendar
, not my front porch watching me with eyes the color of chocolate streaked with caramel
.

“I
heard you’re leaving.” His gaze
tracked my eve
ry movement, no matter how small
. It was unnerving.

I shrugged. “I’m twenty-f
ive. Cal said it was time.”  The pack alpha
had been kind to me. Given me extra time, but I was a null, a dud, a nothing.
The little
town of
Huntsville
tucked in the rural hills of Appalachia
had rules about people like me.
You had to fit in or leave. I didn’t belong
and I never would.
I wasn’t a wolf.

“Where you going?”
He sounded like my answer mattered and the sincerity caught me by surprise.

“I don’t know. What do you care
?” I watched him as carefully as he watched me. The hair on the back of my neck rose. He was
trouble. I could smell it
even with my stunted senses.

He
lifted his head and
sniffed. “You got pizza in there?”

I nodded, my expression guarde
d. He wanted something from me a
nd I didn’t want to get suckered.
I was no flower in a wind storm.

“I’m starving.”

I
stared at him, refusing to give in. The last thing I
needed was to tangle with a wolf
like Jackson. He’d chew me up, spit me out and think nothing of it. After Allison, there’d been Susan, Polly, Jenny and
who knows how many other girls made their way in and out of his pants. The circus clown car had nothing Jackson
’s love life
.

“You’re not going to invite me in?” Shock registered on his face. It was possible I was the first woman in history to tell the man no.

“I’m not looking for anything you got.” I crossed my arms, leaning against the door jamb.

“Fair enough.”  He stepped closer, crowding me, our bodies almost close enough to touch. His voice dipped down into a
husky
whisper
that seemed to reach out and stroke my skin
. “What if I could help you?”

I snorted. “Where were you two weeks ago?
I’ve already quit my job, packed my stuff and sold the house.” Cal had bought it from me so I would have some money to start over with.
I tried not to think about how the house had belonged to my parents. That just brought back the memory of their deaths. A car accident had left
me alone at the age of eighteen and spared them the pain
of their only chi
ld being a waste
.

He stepped back and cool air from the early autumn night rushed in to fill the v
oid
. “I’ve been away, visiting my mom
down in Louisiana
. She knows something that might fix you.”

I grit my teeth, nostrils flaring. “Fix me? What am I? Getting spayed?”

“She’s
my
pack
’s
shaman, Chloe. I think you should listen to what I have to say.”
He managed to look serious
enough that I gave a curt nod and backed away, allowing him into the house.

He settled on the
brown
leather couch my mom had bought when I was still a kid
and helped himself to a slice of pizza. He lifted the wine bottle
off the coffee table
and gave me questioning look.

I flopped into the recliner across from him.
It had been my Dad’s seat and it
still
smelled like his pipe.
“Go ahead. Help yourself.”

“Thanks
,
” he mumbled through a mouth full of food.

I gave him a minute to eat and then pushed. “Spill it, Jackson.”
What Bayou voodoo did he have up his sleeve?

“An alpha can bring out your wolf.” He snagged another piece of pizza and gulped it down.

I sighed, deflated.
“If Cal could’ve done something, he would have.”

Jackson lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “He might not be able to. Every pack is different and so are the alphas.”

“We
ll
,
thanks for nothing
.” I leaned forward to close
the p
izza box and pulled it closer to my side of the coffee table
. At the rate Jackson was eating, there wouldn’t be any left for me.