BLue Moon (6 page)

Her weight shifted in his hands. He knew she battled the beast within her also. Her legs clamped against him hard enough to steal his breath. She clung to him with strengthened muscles. And her pussy changed as well. She thickened, molding to his engorged cock. He closed his eyes, realizing she would suck the life out of him.

“I’m going to come.” He could barely speak.

The heat surrounding them grew so intense he could barely breathe. Her flesh burned through him, branding him. Her muscles pulsated, quivering, while her hot juices began to flow.

“Damn.” She cried out as her body began quaking against his.

And as she collapsed into him, he exploded, filling her, soaking both of them with liquid passion. The way her muscles wrapped around him, clinging to him, while she draped her body over his, he lived and breathed his adorable bitch.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, cradling her to him, praying he hadn’t hurt her.

“Uh-huh.” She didn’t move, completely sated in his arms.

And for the moment, he couldn’t move either. But holding her like this, the moonlight making her body glisten, he had no desire to go anywhere.

Chapter Seven

Sandy helped Greta Hothmeyer out of her car, and then grabbed the packages out of the back seat.

“Did you hear?” the old werewolf asked her. “With the birth of the Millers’ grand-cub, we now outnumber the humans in the territory.”

“I’m sure the humans will be thrilled to hear that.” Sandy followed the pack healer up to her house, the array of aromas from the herbs in the grocery sack tickling her nose.

“When will you be a grandmother?” Greta pushed open her front door, left unlocked, a habit the old woman refused to break no matter how many pack members begged her to lock her door when she left. “You would think that pack leader and your daughter would have an announcement for the pack soon.”

Sandy had accepted the fact long ago that with her daughter’s busy schedule she would be more than lucky if she ever became a grandmother.

“I haven’t heard anything yet.” She placed Greta’s groceries on her kitchen counter, feeling the sore muscles tighten throughout her.

She reached for her lower back, hating to admit she wasn’t as young as she used to be, and hot wild sex could take its toll on her.

“We’ll get some ointment rubbed into you here in a bit.” Greta never missed a thing.

She reached for the phone on the wall just as it rang. It was an unnerving quality in the old woman that Sandy had grown to accept. To this day she’d never looked fast enough to see if Greta actually moved for the phone before it rang, or if she just had good reflexes.

“I’ll be fine.” She knew Greta ignored her. The old healer picked up the phone, answering it and then listening to an excited voice that tickled Sandy’s ears.

She began putting away the groceries, having helped Greta long enough that she knew the woman’s kitchen as well as her own. But with every turn, every twist, another muscle inside her cried out.

What a fool she’d made out of herself the night before. Imagine a werewolf her age, fucking outside next to her car. In her younger years, steamy sex in a field after a pack run had been wonderful. But that had been with her mate. And ever since he’d died, so many years ago when Beth had still been a young cub, she’d not given thought to such activity.

Of course Ralph was pure alpha male. She didn’t view him as a male slut, but she wouldn’t doubt he’d enjoyed a good romp with a willing bitch from time to time. She worried she’d simply added herself to that list. Ralph was in better shape than some of the werewolves half his age. That body of his didn’t have an ounce of flab on it anywhere.

Her pussy instantly began throbbing with thoughts of how she’d enjoyed being in his arms, his cock buried so deep inside her she was sure he’d hit some internal organs.

And he’d been so gallant afterwards, completely at ease. It hadn’t surprised her that he’d followed her home and made sure she was secure and locked in her den before leaving her. She’d been taken by a master.

What worried her was that she wasn’t sure that he’d taken just her body. Granted, she hadn’t had sex in ages, at least not with anything other than her toys and her imagination. Ralph Hipp had come along and moved right into her thoughts. And with every move, and every muscle in her body reminding her, she couldn’t get him out of her head today.

“Who is hurt?” Greta’s question pulled Sandy out of her thoughts.

The old woman clutched the phone to her ear, her expression impossible to read. After a moment, she nodded and hung up the phone without saying goodbye to whoever was on the other end.

“That was your werewolf.” The healer moved around her, digging through her grocery sacks and pulling out herbs.

“My werewolf?” Sandy asked.

“You have Ralph Hipp’s scent all over you.” Greta didn’t look up while she transferred some of the herbs into her cloth medicine bag. “You think because I’m old that I have forgotten about sex?”

Sandy opened her mouth to respond but embarrassment made her temporarily dumb. Greta ignored her awkward moment and walked out of the kitchen.

“I need you to take me over to the diner. Some of the pack got in a tumble with a few humans.” Greta left her front door open and headed toward Sandy’s car.

Sandy hurried after her, pulling the door closed but not locking it. She wasn’t sure if Greta knew where her house key was.

“Who got hurt?” Sandy caught up with Greta in time to open the car door for her.

Greta waved her skinny hand in the air. “More than likely it’s just some scrapes and bruises.” She took her time sitting in the car seat then situated her bag on her lap. “That pack leader and his ideas of exposing us to humans. This will happen every time.”

She pursed her lips together, jutting her chin out. Sandy knew the look to mean that Greta had no more to say on the subject. She shut the car door and hurried around to the driver’s side.

They drove in silence to the diner but Sandy’s thoughts were anything but quiet. Greta smelled Ralph’s scent all over her. She didn’t smell him on her. And she’d showered, last night and this morning. She had put lotion on and a dab of perfume.

Not that she cared if she looked good for anyone today. But she was the queen bitch’s mother. And her duties for the day entailed running the pack healer around. It was important to look nice.

Greta had stronger senses then most werewolves. Sandy knew that. She also knew the old healer seldom joked. It had been a long time since she’d had sex, but no one had ever commented that they smelled the werewolf on her the next day. Greta implied what Sandy and Ralph did last night was more than fucking. They’d made love, marked each other without even realizing it. Or at least, she hadn’t realized it. She had no idea how she felt about that. It made her nervous and excited all at once. And the more she thought about the damned werewolf, the more she ached to have him inside her again. She needed to get a grip on herself.

Sandy pulled into the gravel parking lot of the diner at the same time Ralph exited in his truck on to the street. She met his gaze, captivated by his dark brooding look. But then he looked away, leaving her and driving off.

He was working, she told herself. And besides. Did she want to see him right now anyway?

Sandy parked and then helped Greta out of the car. Several werewolves talked in excited tones outside the diner, but parted ways and nodded to the two women while holding the door open for them.

Her pack had always shown her respect. Since Beth had mated with Ethan Masterson that respect had only grown. Of course, she knew Ralph was held in high esteem with the pack also. But would everyone approve if they knew what she’d done last night?

Werewolves her age just didn’t go around fucking under the moonlight, did they?

She almost stumbled over a chair at one of the tables while she followed Greta. The old healer turned and gave her a reprimanding look.

Pay attention to your day. There was nothing she could do about Ralph Hipp at the moment so she wouldn’t think about him.

“I don’t think it’s anything serious.” Matty Crock stood at the end of the counter, wiping her hands on her apron. She gestured to her oldest cub, who was busy clearing one of the tables. “Paul. Take Greta back to the men.”

The teenage werewolf, sporting some facial hair he hadn’t had the last time Sandy had seen him, carried the dishes behind the counter. He glanced at the pack healer.

“They are back here.” He walked slowly, and glanced at his mom when Greta took his arm.

The smell of blood and body sweat filled the small room that was used as a break area for the Crock family between rushes. Frustration and anger lingered in the air as well, and Sandy rubbed her nose to keep from being rude and sneezing from the harsh smells.

“Well, well. What has happened here?” Greta set her bag on the round table in the middle of the room that several pack members sat around.

“Humans trying to tell us where we can take our cubs trick-or-treating.” One of the werewolves hunched over at the table, nursing what looked like a broken hand, filled the air with a fresh spurt of outrage.

“The matter will be handled.” Ethan spoke from behind her, and Sandy turned to acknowledge their pack leader.

The others in the room straightened as well.

Ethan filled the doorway with his massive frame, his dark features glowering at his pack members in the room. His gaze barely softened when he looked at her.

“You need to go talk to your daughter,” he told her.

If she hadn’t been watching him, she might not have known he was talking to her. He moved around her, taking slow strides around the table while eyeing each of his werewolves. The room grew respectfully silent while he moved quietly and slowly. Ethan had a way of grabbing a room’s attention by not speaking. Sandy had credited that trait with one of the many reasons he had such a successful pack. But right now, she wanted to speak. She wanted to know what was going on with her daughter.

“Go on.” Greta broke the silence, looking up at her while she worked. “One of these gentlemen will give me a ride home.”

“Yes.” Ethan nodded and reached for his cell phone at the same time. “Tell her I sent you. She was upset this morning, and I want you to talk to her.”

“Upset?” Sandy wanted to know immediately what had upset her daughter. “Beth is upset?”

Ethan answered his phone, turning away from her. The only way she would get answers was to go see her daughter.

The news reporter speaking on the TV over the counter reported something about local legislation being passed to prevent werewolves and humans from trick-or-treating together. She’d hardly had time to keep up with current events. No wonder her daughter was upset.

She hurried out of the diner, glancing at her watch. In the middle of the afternoon she knew it might be hard to get in to see Beth.

“Excuse me.” A young woman she didn’t recognize walked toward her.

Sandy froze when she realized the woman was human, and a man walked behind her carrying a large black camera. The woman stuck a microphone in Sandy’s face.

“Where will you be taking your children trick-or-treating this year?” The woman turned around before Sandy could answer. “Cut that,” she told her cameraman, and then turned to Sandy again. “I meant, where will you take your cubs trick-or-treating this year?”

A hard knot formed in Sandy’s stomach. She stared at the red light on the camera, and then at the young human woman who reeked of nervousness.

Suddenly her mouth seemed too dry to speak. She licked her lips. The pack would want her to be friendly to the human. The last thing needed was to start a fright over Halloween. But she was no spokesperson for her pack. No one had ever mentioned to her anything about where or where not to take the cubs.

“Mine are all grown.” She did her best to sound friendly, ease the woman’s nerves. “And since I’ve just moved here, I couldn’t say where the safest places are.”

“And there you have it.” The reporter turned away from Sandy, staring into the camera. “The werewolves admit just moving here. And they are searching for safe places for their cubs to trick-or-treat. Looks like we better keep a close eye on our children this year.”

She slid her finger across her throat and the camera guy lowered his camera.

“Wait a minute.” Sandy tried to reach for the human.

But the lady moved away quickly, barely glancing over her shoulder while she hurried to a running van parked in the corner of the lot.

Sandy thought about chasing her down but didn’t. She worried though that she had just made trouble for her pack. Maybe it would be a good idea to seek out her daughter. She might need a lawyer.

Chapter Eight

Ralph hated leaving Sandy alone amidst all the turmoil taking place at the diner. He didn’t like the mood there. The humans had learned it was a werewolf-owned establishment and were descending in curious hordes. Sandy needed protection.

And to make matters worse, his pack leader was on edge today. It didn’t make his job any easier protecting everyone when Ethan was glowering at him with suspicion. If the werewolf was suddenly going to get overprotective about his mother-in-law, then Ralph and Ethan needed to have a talk.