PackOfHerOwn (2 page)

Helen inhaled, startled by the new complexity of the scents
that made up Fina.

“I guess it will be like a blind person suddenly being able
to see. You know what a duck is, what it sounds like, how it feels…but when you
see one for the first time, you haven’t got a clue what it is.”

Everyone fell silent then Wally nodded. “Yes. There’s a
whole new vocabulary in your senses now. You’re smart. You’ll pick it up
quick.”

“There’s no full moon. There’s supposed to be a full moon.”
Helen’s skin itched with nervous energy. They were in a forest in the middle of
nowhere, just her and Wally.

He started pulling off his sweater.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting naked. You can’t change into wolf form while you’re
dressed. Well, you
can
but the shift in mass will shred everything and
you’ll be riding home naked.”

“You didn’t say anything about naked,” she blurted out.

“Didn’t want to throw you off your game.” He grinned and
undid his belt buckle.

He removed all his clothing as if it was no big deal. Helen
knew she was staring and couldn’t help herself. Wally was just…huge. His arms
were thick and defined. His pecs popped beneath a dusting of brown hair that
arrowed down to…oh my.

“Growing up were, you get used to being naked for pack runs.”
His voice was deeper than usual, quiet and intimate. “Want me to turn my back?”

“Yes,” she muttered and stared at his round, hard ass as she
yanked off her clothes. Grabbing his t-shirt off the ground, she held it in
front of herself. For the last week, since waking up in hospital, Helen had
felt…different. All her life she’d been alone in her head and that was the way
it was supposed to be. But now, at times, she sensed someone else. It wasn’t
someone telling her to build a death ray or anything. The
someone
was
just quiet, confident and seemed to see the world in simple straightforward
terms. She also stayed in the background as if she was new to all this as well.
Trying to figure her way around. “Okay,” Helen sighed resignedly. “You can turn
back.”

Wally looked at the t-shirt but didn’t comment. “Quiet your
thoughts. You’re two creatures now, separate yet together. Hear your inner
wolf.”

“My inner
what
?”

“Work with me here. Just listen.” Wally breathed slow and
even. “She’s instinctual rather than intellectual. She’s also the reason you
survived, so show her some gratitude by letting her out for a run.”

Helen shut her eyes and matched her breathing to his.

“Let your conscious mind recede. Your wolf will know what to
do. The physical change will hurt but only for a few seconds.”

“Now you tell me,” she mumbled, as if she was drifting to
sleep. Suddenly it felt as if her sinews were snapping free and she dropped to
her hands and knees. She cried out and didn’t recognize the sound of her voice.
Her tongue felt thick, her jaw became unbearably heavy—until her neck muscles
expanded with a screaming ache and absorbed the weight.

The pain stopped. Everything looked too sharp, too close.
She took a step, stumbled, and stared at the four splayed limbs supporting her.

A solid weight pressed into her side and she leaned into it,
managing to stay upright. She smelled strength and turned to the huge brown
wolf beside her. He ran his long snout over hers, huffed, then pawed the
ground.

Helen’s wolf took a step and tripped. Remembering, she gave
up the foolish, conscious thought that was crowding her head and let her legs
find their rhythm. If she’d been capable of laughter, she would have howled
with delight as she began pacing in a wide arc.

For what felt like hours, she stayed with the male. Walking.
Running. Rubbing her back against the prairie grass until the pleasure made her
quiver. The first time he bluff-charged her, she froze. After that, she charged
him, spun out and raced off in another direction. They drank from a stream,
rested, then resumed playing until, finally, she found herself back in the
clearing. Her wolf braced itself and began to pant. Pain sparked in its joints,
then receded as its body returned to the form it had been born in.

When it was done, Helen trembled and took the hand Wally
offered. She stood so close her breasts brushed his belly. The night was cold
all of a sudden and he radiated heat.

“Why…” she started to say around a killer case of cotton
mouth, swallowed and tried again. “Why do I want to rub against you, all over?”

His slow, sensual smile lit up his dark eyes. “Because you
want to mark me. Put your scent on my skin and take mine on yours.”

“Oh.” Her voice sounded small and unsure.

“Like this,” he whispered, lowered his head and smoothed his
cheek against hers. When his lips touched her throat, she shivered. She inhaled
sharply, taking in his scent. It came so naturally now and her mind quickly
processed the complex, welcome, sensory input.

Without asking, he feathered his mouth across hers. For
someone so big, he touched her with a gentleness that blew her away. His tongue
slipped between her lips, filled her slowly then retreated, leaving a warm
cinnamon-buzz taste behind. When her knee buckled, she grabbed onto his
shoulders. His arms came around her and pulled her into the hard planes of his
body. Her breasts were crushed between them until he broke the kiss, leaned
down and lifted her nipple to his mouth.

Helen trembled when his tongue circled her breast.

She didn’t complain when he lowered her onto their discarded
clothing. His kisses on her belly stung sweetly and she lifted her knee so he
could kiss a path down the inside of her thigh. She watched the stars move and
shook with anticipation as he lowered his mouth to her pussy.

He licked her folds as if he was savoring her taste, held
her hips while his tongue speared her, watched her with fire in his eyes as he
lashed her clit.

Straightening, he lay on her without crushing her, nudged
her knees apart with his own, kissed the silvery, dimpled bite mark at the base
of her neck and pushed his cock head against her opening.

“Condom?” she whispered anxiously.

“Weres don’t need them. But if you like…” He reached for his
jeans.

“Why?” she asked and ran her fingers over his short, soft
hair. “Don’t you need them?”

“We don’t harbor human diseases. And you’re not in heat.
Ovulating
,”
he clarified when she felt her brow furrow. “Yeah, we can smell that too.” He
kissed her tenderly then with anxious hunger until she reached between them and
guided his cock back to her pussy. Wow. Bigger was better.

She gasped at the fullness and pressure as he stretched her.
Her breasts felt swollen and bruised by his chest. He filled her slowly, paused
when she whimpered, held her head when he pushed deeper inside.

The rhythm he set made fire trace over her. Leaning back, he
dragged the head of his cock over the front of her sheath. Rising over her, he
pumped into her with long, even strokes. His lips parted, exposing the edge of
his teeth and he stared down at her with a wonder and animal pleasure that
matched hers.

When she finally couldn’t take any more, when she was
sweating, panting, clawing his ass, he drove into her hard, ground his pubis
against her clit. The first, exquisite pulse of an orgasm squeezed her belly.
Her release spread, hot and delicious, to her pussy and throbbed around him.

Wally moaned. He filled her fast and deep, then cried out in
the same rhythm as the cock flexing inside her.

When it was finished, he eased out of her, rolled onto his
back and tucked her close to his side.

“I’m going to Pinebridge day after tomorrow,” he said. “It’s
about a six-hour drive from here. Their sheriff was murdered and they put a
call out for temporary help. I’ll be gone two weeks. Longer if we don’t catch
the killer right away.” He nuzzled the top of her head. For the first time,
Wally gave in to the temptation to comb his fingers through Helen’s hair. The
soft, blonde curls straightened then bounced back following the passage of his
hand. He traced the curve of her breast then held it in his palm, amazed by her
warmth and the satin texture of her skin. “I wouldn’t have volunteered if I’d
known how much I care about you.”

“Will you be safe?”

“I’ll be careful.” Wally brushed her hair back and kissed
her forehead. “While I’m gone…” He leaned back and looked into her eyes. They
were beautiful, like the rest of her, and a brown so soft and honest his breath
caught. He wasn’t a romantic fool but dammit if this woman didn’t bring out a
tenderness in him he’d barely known existed. “More male weres are born than
females. Until last century, everything evened out in the end. Males fight a
lot more than females and there were casualties. Nowadays, we’re more
civilized.”

His grin made her smile.

“But the truth is, while I’m gone, every single male in the
pack will make a play for you.”

“I’m not sure I’d like that.”

“Why? Most females get off on the extreme attention before
they settle on a mate.”

“Yes but they’ll be chasing my tail—no pun intended—because
I’m a girl.”

“Female.”

“Huh?”

“We call our women females. Semantics but it’s tradition.”

“Hmm. Noted. Point is, they won’t care about me as a person
and it sounds like they couldn’t be bothered to get to know me. They’ll only
like me because I’ve got breasts.”

“
Great
breasts,” Wally qualified, and nuzzled them
with singular focus. When he finally lifted his head from her, he felt himself
grinning ear to ear.

“I’ll hang out with Fina and perfect walking on four legs.
And you’d better email me every day.” She ran her palm over his chest.

The feel of her hands on him made him ache and sigh with
pleasure.

Helen continued, “And remember, you’ve got a female waiting
for you.”

Grinning, Wally hugged her tight then levered his big body
over hers. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Gwen Campbell lives in Canada and got her start in the
magazine industry, writing everything from news stories to obituaries. A
life-long believer in romance, she’s combined her two passions and now focuses
on romantic fiction. Gwen is married and she and her husband contribute the
success of their relationship to making a point of saying “I love you” at least
once a day, sometimes saying “yes, dear” just because, and making sure the
toilet paper always come over the top of the roll.

Gwen claims that her best sticky-plot resolutions come to
her while dog walking.

Gwen welcomes comments from readers. You can find her
website and email addresses on her
author
bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.

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Pack of Her Own

ISBN 9781419948923

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Pack of Her Own Copyright © 2015 Gwen Campbell

Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky

Cover photography by Vishstudios/shutterstock.com

Electronic book Publication January 2015

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