Authors: Ruelle Channing,Cam Cassidy
“Ah, that’s better. Thanks for nothing.”
This time, JT did growl, showing his teeth as she smirked and took her mug into the den along with her bag of beef jerky. He set his mug down, cleaned up the mess she made, and put the sugar back where it was supposed to be. If Ryden didn’t get out of that bedroom soon, there might be another death. He wouldn’t be held accountable for this one. Damn female was challenging him at every turn.
JT could hear the water running in the next room. At least one of them was getting to relax. He had a feeling Ryden would have Carlee keeping him busy tonight, leaving JT to deal with this smart-ass female. He had to get out of here before he did something he might regret later. With the mug in hand, he walked from the kitchen into the den only to see the female with her feet propped up on the coffee table, shoes still on, her mug sitting on the table with no coaster, the bag of beef jerky opened and crumbs already littering the floors. She looked up as JT growled again.
“What is it with you and the growling? Damn, man, take a Xanax or something. You
really
need to relax, or your blood pressure could cause your head to explode. Words work much better than grunts and growls too, by the way. It might help if you express your anger in other ways.”
That was it. If he didn’t kill her, it would be something for the record books. Never had a female gotten under his skin so deep and so fast. He snarled and stomped out the door so he could have some privacy and drink his coffee in peace.
JT
sat on the porch and listened as she moved around the house.
Not THE house…MY house
.
He liked a neat and orderly home, and she was fucking it up with every step she took. JT couldn’t understand why she bothered him so much. It wasn’t like he’d never had guests before. After all, Ryden had his own room here and sometimes stayed over when he was stateside.
What is it about this female that has me growling and snarling at every move she makes?
He gritted his teeth as he heard her footsteps, down the hallway and into his bedroom. Sometimes, JT wished his hearing wasn’t so good. He heard the slide of drawers opening and closing, then the closet door, all while wondering what she was doing. A few minutes later, the shower began to run, and he visualized her in the shower.
Fuck. This isn’t good.
One minute she’s pissing him off and the next, he wanted to fuck her while she was ass-up across the counter top.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Maybe it’s the noises coming from Ryden’s bedroom. Coupla horny rabbits, that’s what those two are. Maybe they won’t stay long, and I can get rid of Dr. Nosey Bitch… and get my quiet home back.
JT was kidding himself. He’d been bored out of his mind since leaving the field. Ryden was right on that count at least. He hated the desk job in DC. The constant looking over files, assigning jobs and making nice with his superiors was driving him bat-shit crazy. At least he had a house in the country where he could shift and have a run without the worry he’d be shot at by some crazy, lunatic hillbillies looking for a trophy.
Being held basically a hostage was one thing but doing it on an empty stomach was quite another. JT was growling at everything Lou touched, said or did. The man seriously needed medicating. As she sat in the den, she reached up and grabbed the remote to turn on the television. It was bad enough that she was stuck with Mr. Personality. Now she had to listen to the moans and groans coming from the back of the house. This was seriously not working out. Switching through the channels, she couldn’t find shit to watch, even though he had a dish. She even tried watching
Wheel of Fortune,
but instead of letters on the squares, she was seeing sexual positions.
MTV? Oh, lucky me. Nine Inch Nails, “Fuck You like an Animal.” How appropriate.
She finally gave up on the boob tube and turned it off. Finishing off the rest of her coffee and setting the cup on the table, she spied a stack of magazines. She slid out of the chair and onto the floor and began to leaf through them.
“
Guns and Ammo
,” she muttered, tossing it to the side. “
Muscle and Fitness
. The guy is kidding right? Like he needs more testosterone.” Lou couldn’t help the smirk. “I bet he has a small dick from all the steroids.” She raised her hand, holding up only her index finger like a puppet. “Oh, hi there, I’m Mr. Big Muscles with a little dick and you’re invading my space.”
Her shoulders slumped as another scream of ecstasy came from the back of the house. This was about as much fun as watching a cat lick itself. Jumping up off the floor, she left the magazines lying where they were. Mr. There-Is-A-Place-For-Everything-And-Everything-In-Its-Place would be insane by the time she was done, and he’d be begging to take her back to town.
Lou did a quick search of the house and found the large, overgrown Neanderthal nowhere around. She did, however, find what could have only been his room. She closed the door behind her, and there was quiet. She thanked God it was on the opposite end of the house from the stereo porno that was now blasting through the house to be forever embedded in her mind.
His room was just as she imagined, dark, masculine and perfect. From the looks of the bed, a quarter could be bounced off the sheets they were tucked so tight. With a grin, she bet herself that he had his underwear folded and color coordinated and won that bet as she opened the drawers. It was a bit over the top that they also looked ironed.
Who the hell irons their undies? Maybe he uses too much starch?
Now it was on. Lou’s curiosity had the best of her, and she had to be nosey. Looking through the dresser drawers, she couldn’t resist taking a few t-shirts and turning them upside down. Mixing a few white tees in with the navy blue ones, she could imagine that tic in his jaw that she saw earlier.
Lou had gone through every drawer, and there wasn’t a toy to be found anywhere. The guy probably did it with his socks on, missionary of course, in the dark. She was giggling by the time she got to the closet. It was the same, color coordinated perfectly.
The master bath was a definite work of art, with ceramic tile, wood, and of course the fixtures were white. Locking the door, she turned on the water a nice cool temperature before stripping down and stepping in.
“Irish Spring soap! Are you kidding me? Guess it helps him to be the manly man.” As soon as the words left her lips the thought came to mind.
Oh shit, maybe he’s gay? That would explain a lot.
Letting her head fall back under the spray, she let the water soak through her short blonde hair. The water was great, good pressure, but there did need to be a few improvements. Since nothing else was available, the cool water and her own little fingers got rid of the aching need.
She dried off, leaving the towel on the floor and slipped into her dirty clothes. Minus the panties. She left those lying on the floor next to the discarded towel. With a shake of her head, her normal bed-head hairstyle resumed its shape, and she managed to cover the mirror with waterspots. Before she left the bathroom she made sure that the washcloth was draped over the showerhead, and the caps were left off the shampoo and conditioner bottles just for fun.
Walking back out through the house, she found that Mr. Grumpy Pants had not yet returned, but she saw a shadow moving on the back porch. Walking out, she grabbed her last smoke from her shirt pocket and lit it. The first inhale was Newport heaven. She exhaled the smoke slowly.
“Dude, you seriously need to get a detachable shower head, especially with the bump and grind going on in the other room. But I bet that stuff doesn’t bother you.”
She watched as he drank the last of his coffee and set the mug down on the porch railing. JT coughed and snarled as she blew her smoke his way just to annoy him.
“Anyone ever told you those things will kill you?” He walked over and jerked the offending cigarette from between her full pink lips, snuffing it out on his boot.
“Hey, you Neanderthal! That was my last one!” She scowled and resisted the urge to deck him.
“Last one or not, they’re bad for you and it messes with my sense of smell. I don’t like them, so you won’t smoke. End of story.”
He growled, tossed the butt in his empty coffee mug and dared her to argue with just a look. She growled a bit herself as both hands went to her hair, and she pulled at her short blonde spikes until they stood up on end.
“What is with you? You’re holding me against my will, growl at me every time I move, and now you took my last cigarette and snuffed it out before I was done!
ARRRRHHH!”
“You’re here because Ryden wanted you here. If I had my way, you’d have been left sitting on the side of the road after we got away from that place.”
Snarling, he stomped back in the house.
Calling out as JT went inside, she said, “You can bite me, big boy. The side of the road would have been preferable. I’ve met rocks with more personality than you!”
She was
not
going to be told by some antisocial, wannabe bad ass, steroid head what she was and was not going to do. She looked down at what was her last smoke, crushed and twisted in the mug. She could die from anything, get hit by a bus, apparently get shot at while running labs on a patient, or now, she could get attacked by a werewolf.
The whole werewolf thing was finally starting to sink in. These people were whacked. The Carlee chick was probably doing it doggie style with Ryden the wolf, leaving Lou in the company of the grown up version of Jacob from
Twilight
who had the shitty attitude to match.
This is just my fucking lucky day.
She looked back at the house once more and had no intention of becoming the next werewolf groupie. She took the first step down, then the second, placing each foot as quietly as possible. Lou took one last look as her feet touched the grass then took off running like her life depended on it, which it probably did. Once they found out that she wasn’t a doctor, she knew she wasn’t going to be needed. She’d been in that position before; no way would she be there again.
Lou ran faster than ever. Olympic-class track athletes didn’t have shit on her. She was jumping over bushes, shrubs, sticks, fallen trees. In an hour, she would be sitting at a bar, having a smoke and finding some schmuck to buy her a drink. No problem.
She let her brain get just a bit ahead of her feet as she went to jump over a fallen tree. Her foot caught on a branch, and she did a perfect belly flop onto the ground, hands sliding through the leaves and mud. Getting up slowly she still heard no sound coming from behind. The new issue seemed to come from in front of her when she turned to start running again. She found herself looking into a pair of glowing yellow eyes, watching as the lips of the coyote pulled back, twitching over its teeth as it began to growl and stalk towards her. She reached back behind her for a stick or anything else she could grab, and it growled louder.
“Nice, fuckin’ puppy dog. Let me go, and I promise when I get to town, I will send you a nice T bone.”
The coyote was apparently not in the mood for beef. It made a lunge towards Lou just as she got back to the log, grabbing a stick and swinging. Another growl came from behind her.
“
Shit
!”
She was under attack. The second one was
gigantic
compared to the first. She was ready to beat both with the stick, until she realized they were more into each other. She looked back only once, and then took off at a run, keeping her stick in hand.
JT knew she’d run. He could smell her intent before she started sneaking off the front porch.
I swear when this is over, Ryden is going to owe me big time.
If JT was going after her, then he sure as hell planned to do it in wolf form. Maybe if she got an eye full of the bad ass wolf, she’d finally behave.
He kicked off his boots and stripped down before the wolf could fully take over. There is nothing worse than shredding clothes when it was unnecessary. He could feel the tingle working its way through his body, feel the bones shift, the hair appear, and his human consciousness recede as the wolf took over…
He could hear her jumping, her feet landing with ease. He ran faster to catch up to her and wanted to see his prey running, see how she handled herself. Just as she came in sight, the wind shifted, and he smelled trouble. Danger was coming. It was that moment he saw her stumble and land hard on the ground with a grunt. The scent of coyote, an intruder, became stronger, and the wolf watched as the danger appeared in front of her, teeth bared and fangs dripping. He shouldn’t be here. This was the wolf’s territory. He wanted this intruder gone; the intruder was a danger to the female the wolf felt compelled to protect. The enemy’s smell was different; there was no fear, and he stared, eyes riveted on the female as she lay prone on the ground.
The wolf knew he had to move fast and kill the intruder before he hurt the female. Leaping over the last log and landing behind her, he growled, warning the intruder to back off. The coyote looked at the wolf, glanced back to his intended prey and apparently decided he’d better eliminate the threat before he had his meal. With another growl at the wolf, he leaped over the female’s head and attacked, even though the wolf had a good hundred pounds on him.
A thump along his backside distracted the wolf during the fight. He turned, growling a warning at the female to run. She began to understand and turned to run while the intruder jumped on the wolf’s back, grabbed an ear in his teeth and gave it a mighty pull.
Biting, growling, and claws tearing, the wolf had the advantage of size and strength, and the fight didn’t last long. With fierce, swift moves, the coyote was on the ground and the wolf’s teeth sank into his neck, severing the jugular with his canines. Tainted blood poured out of his neck, the taste repulsive. When the coyote finally stopped struggling, the wolf turned him loose and gagged up the blood he’d swallowed. He would be safe from the sickness his enemy carried, and the human half would deal with his carcass later. For now, he had to find the female.