Pack and Coven (18 page)

June tugged her arms. His cock swelled as she struggled to free herself. Harry growled. His urge to dominate broke through the surface.

To his surprise, hers did too. He could feel it all over.

She squirmed, and he held tight. Pushed her body against the wall. The result of her resistance wasn't her freedom. It was more kisses. Frantic kisses. Her breathing became ragged, as did his. Her hips jerked as she fought him and kissed him at the same time.

His peak approached, and he willed himself to withdraw, to be safe, but June took control. She twisted a leg around his hips, pushing him deep.

Ah, God.

“Harry, it feels so good,” she whispered.

It was about to feel better. Harry dropped one of her wrists, reached between their bodies and pressed his fingers on her clit.

Rubbing. Rubbing. Holding still and rubbing. Her scent sharpened. Her breathing caught.

With a choked cry, June convulsed. Her muscles clenched him. Loosened. Tightened. She sighed and gasped. Called his name. Her reaction almost undid him.

Baseball. Bass fishing. Blue balls.

Her eyelids opened. “More.”

“No.” He held himself even stiffer than his cock. “I'm not going to be that guy.” His knees started to tremble. She was shorter than he was, and their pelvises did not line up.

She blew out a breath. “What guy?”

Their shower went from lukewarm to cold. “The one who talks you out of a condom when you ask him to use one.”

“We don't have one handy.” She smoothed her palm across his chest, her fingertip rounding his nipple. “I'm not fertile this week, and STDs aren't an issue. Can't you just—”

“No.” Harry pulled out. His cock popped free, bobbing against her stomach.

“I'm sorry.” She rested her cheek against him, breathing deeply. “This can't be satisfying for you. Again.”

“Oh, it will be. Let's go to bed.” Lack of a condom didn't mean they had to cancel the festivities. It just meant they had to get creative. “The water's cold.”

“You can handle it.” June pushed him into the spray and ran her hands down his chest. She followed the hair until her hands rested on either side of his cock.

“June?” If he weren't mistaken, her alpha had just come back out to play. He could sense her strong will pushing him along with her hands.

She smiled. “I'll take the edge off.”

He plucked a tendril of wet hair out of her face. “What do you mean?”

“Guess.” She grasped his heft in one palm, stroking. Her other hand cupped his testicles. Before Harry could answer, she dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth.

Shock flooded him, and he nearly bent over double. The chilly water splashed past him into her face. She spluttered, releasing his cock. Goose bumps broke out across her flesh.

“Sorry, sorry.” He reached behind him and twisted the faucets off. June shoved him against the cold wall and raked her fingers down his thighs.

“Bad werewolf. Now I'll have to punish you.” This time she lapped the head of his penis, her tongue twirling around the opening and sensitive underside. Harry clenched his fists—not in her hair—and willed himself not to unload until he got to enjoy this for at least ninety seconds. Maybe two minutes. His last affair had been months ago, with a schoolteacher from Wheeling now engaged to the auto-parts salesman he'd introduced her to.

June toyed with him, tasting every inch. She placed soft kisses along his length and flicked her tongue across the head. While he'd rather be face to face, pounding in and out of her body, getting head ranked high on his list of Fun Things To Do With Women.

With pursed lips, she enveloped his cock. She took the tip, part of the shaft. Her eyelids closed as she relaxed her throat. Her head moved back and forth, a moist suction that drove him to the verge. Waves of tension built as his climax neared.

She grabbed the base of his cock with one wet hand. Her teeth grazed the underside, and his hips jolted. Her breath feathered the wet skin.

When she patted his rump, he thought she would head for the bed. But she didn't. Instead she practically swallowed his cock and began to suck him at such a fierce tempo, Harry's orgasm came out of nowhere in a blinding flash of pleasure.

June sucked until he had to pull her away, too sensitive to handle the treatment. She released him and stood, her lips swollen and red. Her nipples were hard as pebbles. She was obviously aroused.

He ripped open the shower curtain and dragged her into her bedroom. The sheets were still rumpled. Gavin's scent hadn't marked her room so much it was a distraction. Harry threw her onto the bed and covered her with his body.

This was going to be good. Every inch of their naked flesh pressed together. He poised over her, trying to decide where to start. The water droplets on her skin? Her rosy lips? Her breasts?

Her knees rose to cradle his hips, bringing her in contact with his half-hard cock. He watched her, not speaking, allowing the anticipation to build. Extending his senses, he detected a car on the highway, birds in the trees, the fridge humming in the kitchen.

Nothing between them. Nothing around them. Nothing to stop them from making love for the next twenty-four hours.

Okay, a few hours. June would need to sleep so she could cloak their getaway car.

Before Harry could make up his mind what part of her most needed his attention, the telephone rang, shrill and insistent beside the bed.

June closed her eyes, but it did nothing to silence the telephone.

Closing her eyes didn't ease her arousal, either. Harry's weight pressed her into the mattress. His penis nestled between her legs. Her animal simmered inside her, but she no longer feared it would break free.

It had surged through her veins at her climax, but it only intensified her pleasure. She was wholly in control.

The phone rang again.

“Are you going to get that?” he asked. “It might be your coven.”

“I'd rather not talk to them. They'll ask too many questions.” She and Harry watched the phone as if it were going to jump off the hook and into June's hand. Neither could reach it without crawling across the bed.

He squinted. “It shows up as a local number on caller ID. Timothy Manns. Isn't he the chief of police?” The phone rang again. Her answering service would kick in after five rings.

“That's his home number, not work.” She pushed at Harry's shoulders. Why would the cops be at the Mannses' house instead of the station?

He rolled off her until he could reach the unit. “Want me to unplug it?”

“I know what I can tell him.” When he handed it to her, June clicked the on button. “Hello?”

Static crackled across the line.

“Who's there?” she said, irritation bleeding into her tone. She had better things she could be doing, like having sex for the first time in two years. When your disguise was a senior citizen, your choices of partner were coven members and other senior citizens. Unfortunately, her tastes at this stage of her life ran to younger men, and no local witches interested her. One of the downsides of a witch's cyclic age discrepancies.

“Miss Sandie?” said a female voice she didn't recognize.

“Speaking.” June altered her pitch to resemble an elderly human. Harry watched with his eyebrows raised.

“It's Donna Manns, your neighbor.”

“Donna. Hi, honey,” June said with a quaver. She'd seen Donna yesterday at the tea room. The Mannses lived on the same street she did, a mile down the road.

“Are you all right?” Donna sounded different on the phone, more measured. “I heard the sirens. I was worried.”

“I'm fine.”

“So what's going on?” Donna knew everything that happened to everyone. If Tim hadn't clued her in about the break-in, she'd be frantic to find out before lunchtime.

“Nothing important.” Vague answers were safer, not that she could explain the truth to Donna anyway. In fact, she was surprised Donna had called. She and Donna had more of a baker-customer relationship than a gossip-sharing relationship.

“It didn't sound like nothing.”

“I'm almost embarrassed to say,” June protested.
Come on, Donna—take a hint. Don't badger the nice old lady.

“No need to be embarrassed,” the woman said. “You can trust me.”

June couldn't, but to balk now would raise flags. Well, the tittle-tattle—and Sandie's alibi—could start here.

“I heard men outside the house this morning.” Whatever she told Donna needed to mesh with the information the chief would share with his wife later. “I called 9-1-1 and hid down the road a piece. The police were gone before I got back.”

“Do they know who did it? What they were looking for?”

“There's nothing missing. Tim got here in time. I need to bake him a cake.”

“I don't know who'd break into your house, not with Bert Macabee out of the territory.” Donna's statement perked at the end, as if Bert's absence pleased her.

Territory
was an odd word for her to use. Perhaps it was a cop's wife thing.

“Your husband sure does a good job,” June complimented her.

“If he has the right clues,” Donna agreed. “Do you have any secret enemies?”

June tried to mimic her Sandie laugh. “My pie beat yours at the county fair last year. Maybe it was you, looking for the recipe.”

Donna forced a laugh too. “Ha, ha, ha. Are you there alone?”

“No.” Why did she want to know that?

“Is Harry over there?”

“Harry who?” June and Harry hadn't concealed their friendship from anybody, but it seemed an odd question for Donna to ask.

“Harry Smith. From the tea room.”

“That Harry.” June widened her eyes and shrugged at Harry, who rolled closer until their bodies touched. “He's not here.”

“Then who is there? You shouldn't be alone after that scare.”

“A repairman.” Harry did repairs for her sometimes.

“Have you seen Harry since yesterday?”

“No,” June lied. Harry began to draw circles around her breasts with his finger. “Is there a problem?”

“You were my last hope.” Donna sighed, disappointment evident. “I need to track him down. A business thing, you know. It's that church bus again. If I can't find him, I'll have to hire a second-rate mechanic. Too bad it won't be Harry Smith. He was perfect.”

She sounded more disappointed than a woman in need of a mechanic ought to be. The phone rasped as if a solid object had rubbed across the mouthpiece. Donna spoke to somebody on the other end, muffled. Then she returned. “Do you know if he was going out of town?”

“Let me think.” What would she have told Donna two days ago, before Bianca decided to ruin Harry's life? “He travels to Wheeling a lot.”

Harry leaned down and sucked her nipple into his mouth. June squeaked.

“What did you say?”

“I sneezed. Bless me.” June knew her voice was an octave too high. She smacked Harry away but he only switched to the other side.

Warmth began to curl through her insides as he licked. And Donna kept talking.

“It's important I find him soon.”

“I bet.”

“There are other mechanics.”

June couldn't respond, unable to form words as Harry's lips closed around her nipple.

“I know it's a long shot, but if you see him, could you give me a call on my cell?” She rattled off a number. “I'll be out the rest of the day.”

“Of course.”

“Don't you want to write it down?”

“I did. Bye now.” June disconnected and clonked Harry in the head with the phone. “You devil!”

He leaned on his arm. “Did you know I went out with her when she was Donna Partin?”

June could name most of the women he'd dated in the past eight years, and she had no wish to discuss his past conquests when she was naked in bed with him. “Why?”

“Because I don't work on her church's bus.”

“Are you sure?” June frowned at the caller ID. Donna had never called her at home before. Donna had seen Harry in the tea room yesterday, being pursued by Bianca, wife of the recently arrested Bert Macabee. Donna had asked several strange, pointed questions.

Donna used to date Harry.

“I'm sure,” he answered. “I don't work on buses, period.”

June clicked through the recent calls in the memory. Manns, unknown name and number, coven, coven, coven, unknown name and number, coven, coven, her mom in California, coven. No new voice mails since last night.

The thought of Harry and Donna, of Harry and any woman, made June want to bite somebody. Green-apple jealousy was an unexpected component to their changed relationship. Before, she'd had libido dampeners and a general acceptance it could never be.

Now she had…Harry.

“Are you suggesting she wants something else from you?” she asked sharply.

“I don't know. I don't care.” He reached over and unplugged the phone base. “No more phone calls.”

No more women,
she almost retorted but instead stared at his hairy chest. “What if there's an emergency? You don't have to unplug it.”

He captured her hand and twined their fingers together. “We've had enough emergencies for the day.”

“I agree.” But not enough of…other things. His forearm brushed her nipples. “I can't wait until this is over and things get back to normal.”

Harry drew their clasped hands down until he reached their hips. He began rubbing his knuckles, and hers, on her skin, brushing her stomach, the crinkly hair at the apex of her thighs. “There's no normal for us, June. If Bianca instates Gavin, I'll have to relocate. My guess is she has to pick someone as soon as tonight or her pack bond will dissolve.”

“I know.” She didn't know—didn't want to know. Her stomach knotted like their hands.

“Your whole coven may want to relocate.” Harry gave a soft laugh. “Do you think they'd want a wolf for a mascot?”

“Harry.” She cupped his face with her free hand. “I don't want to talk about tomorrow.”

“Me neither,” he said. “Right, then. Where are your condoms?”

Despite the fact they were naked, their hands clasped, their lips inches apart, she had trouble comprehending his abrupt change of topic. “What?”

He nipped her shoulder. “I'm not finished with you.”

Her breathing quickened. “You don't have to finish me.” Although, if he really wanted to, the bed was a lot more comfortable than the kitchen table.

“How about I finish us both?” He took a nipple in his mouth, licking gently. He switched to the other side. Then back. His tongue sampled her skin as if testing wine, swilling it in his mouth, waiting for the full flavor to hit.

June rubbed her feet against the sheets. She wished he'd be a little rougher. The sweet lick of his tongue was delicious. Hypnotic. But she wanted more. She arched her back, encouraging him.

Harry blew across her moist nipples. He barely touched one with the tip of his tongue. She threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled. So he sucked harder, and harder, until she reached a nearly unbearable pleasure/pain threshold and wrenched his head away.

He released her with a sly smile, his penis hard against her thigh. “Where are they?”

“I'll get them.” Her condoms were in the closet, packed away with other things she rarely used. Like her bikini. And her gym membership card. She kicked a plastic tub into place to use as a stepstool and yanked down a purple hatbox.

Sheets and pillowcases cascaded around her. She fumbled with the lid; the box slipped to the floor and spilled. Bathing suit, cards, sunglasses, gloves, Mardi Gras beads and condoms tumbled across the carpet.

“In a hurry?” Harry lounged on the bed and watched her.

“Hush.” She spotted the condoms under her dust ruffle. “I hope these aren't too old.” She tossed him the small, silver packages. “You read the date. I can't bear to look.”

He shook out a packet and peered at it. “We've got two more months.”

She hopped onto the bed and lay down. “Aren't you going to put it on?”

“It's not time yet.” Harry traced a finger down to her mons. “I have plans for this body.”

“I have plans too.” Her fingers curled into the sheets like claws. And when he loomed over her and lifted her chin for his kiss, the fierceness inside her, her wolf, said
Not this time.

With a strength she hadn't even known she possessed, June surged up, flipping Harry over. He tumbled onto his back with a look of shock on his handsome face.

It turned quickly to anticipation.

June's wolf sizzled through her, and she knew it for what it was. She climbed onto him. Pressed his shoulders to the bed. “You're awfully bossy.”

“So are you.” He reached between her legs, finding her heat. “And you're wet.”

She considered the man spread on the bed beneath her. His hair dampened the sheet, and his brown eyes regarded her with curiosity and passion. What would he do if she wanted to take control, really take control, in the bedroom? Visions of bound arms and hot wax danced in her head. Her mouth on him. Her body over him.

Taunting him. Teasing him. Ruling him.

What would it feel like to be begged for release…instead of begging for it?

“What are you thinking?” he asked. “Are you thinking how I'm going to lick your—”

She shushed him. “No talking. Put your fingers inside me,” she ordered. “Two of them.”

Harry wasn't pack, but he was alpha. She'd always known that—and always known it wasn't his defining characteristic. She felt him balk before a slow, easy smile crossed his face. “Yes, ma'am.”

He slipped his fingers deep into her until their base pressed her privates. She tightened herself, testing her power. When he adjusted his hand, it jolted her with gratifying pleasure.

“That the right spot?” he asked.

“I said no talking. Take them almost all the way out.”

He did, drawing her cream across her until she was slick. One fingertip remained inside. She clutched his shoulders, their gazes locked.

“Now put them…”

He thrust his fingers into her, bumping against her swollen nub. She spread her legs wider, sinking, until she could feel the brush of his penis between the cheeks of her bottom. Without permission he grasped her hip with his other hand.

June bent and kissed his neck and chest, avoiding his mouth. She licked his nipple, circling her tongue around the point. He tasted slightly of soap, slightly of male. Rising, she tried to ignore the fact he'd started wiggling his fingers.

But she couldn't. It made her hot.

“I want…” She paused, thinking. “Hold your hand still.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don't question me,” she ordered. But then their gazes met again and she could tell he was trying not to smile, which made
her
almost smile.

So she bent her head and concentrated on his body. She raised her hips, and as she'd asked—commanded—his hand remained stationary. His fingers slipped out, and she sank onto them, squeezing tight. Small sounds and a salty-sweet smell accompanied her movements. She rode his hand, and his penis bobbed against her.

This was good. Dominant. He would do as she wished. Releasing his shoulders, she straightened, and his gaze lit on her breasts.