Wolverton by Julie Steimle (best romantic books to read TXT) 📕

Scooting closer, Daisy took his face into her soft hands and knelt directly in front of him. “I don’t regret last night for a second. We may not have intended to make love, but being with you that night was heaven and I never felt more complete—”

He kissed her. Rick couldn’t help it. She was so close and her smell filled his nostrils, surging through him like an unstoppable wave. And he did not stop kissing her. He wanted to eat her up, consume her in the way he had last night. And she most definitely kissed him back. With such reciprocal passion, soon they were on the ground under the tree, clinging to one another.

Overwhelmed by their thundering hearts, and wanting to hold everything that was her, he kept going, giving in to his desire to have her. Hot all over, both of them moved together. Her hands stroked him, clung to him, removing every barrier between them, from clothing to the air, as he was doing the same. His fingers wrapped in her hair as they fervently embraced while continuing to kiss. Her hands massaged down his back, sliding along his hips into the loose band of his pants. This sent a shiver up his skin and excited him.

Breaking loose for breath, he gazed at her as she kissed his nose then leaned in against him with her bare chest. Her dress top was open. She was gnawing on his neck. As she pulled down his jeans, the words of Mrs. Blithe came back to him like a haunting warning. He was being carefully manipulated by the pack with the intent to keep him there. While Daisy’s hands tugged his jeans, she passionately climbed onto his lap. He could feel himself drawn in to obey his gut desire for her. She leaned into him while working at the complete removal of his clothes. If she succeeded, no doubt the pack elders would be most pleased. Pregnancy, after all, was not guaranteed every time a male and female joined together. They had to up their chances for it.

Rick pulled back from her, yanking up his boxers. He stared at her as she passionately fought to free the rest of him from his shorts.

“I want you so bad,” she breathed, pressing against him. “Don’t you want me?”

Breathing hard—he jumped to his feet, staggering away and shaking his head. “This isn’t right.”

Daisy quickly got up, her clothes half off, her eyes dilated on him. “Nothing felt more right.”

But he backed away, continuing to shake his head, and shrank into a wolf. “No. It isn’t.”

He immediately dashed off.

Chapter Eleven

He had been played. He finally understood what had happened the day before. Of course there was no way he would have just jumped to have sex with a crowd of she-wolves mauling him. No way. It had all been a play. The pack elders had carefully selected someone who would be irresistibly attractive to him. How they knew who to choose, he didn’t know. But they somehow figured it out. Maybe there were several ladies they had strategically placed around the village, or maybe Daisy was just an expert they had picked. But really, reading a book in a dark hiding space? A pungent, smelly one? He was dealing with wolves after all. And they knew wolf behavior well. They knew how he would try to lose them.

He had been played.

Thing was, people like Kurt had been warning him.

Then again, he was sure a lot of reverse psychology had to be involved as well. They could not force him after all. He had to choose it. They just knew how to steer him in the right direction and let nature take its course.

And he fell for it.

He had no choice but to hide from Daisy, even though she had his pants and shirt.

Slipping into shadows, under buildings in the stink of old building rot, Rick felt utterly mortified. And worse, he didn’t know what to do now. The pack had to be in on the entire thing. The worst part was, he really did want to be with her. He really had wanted to let go and make love to her right there under that tree.

It was entirely animal. He knew. There was little logic to it. She was pretty. She smelled absolutely devourable. She was soft. And he felt a kind of completeness when he was with her. And she wanted him, at least physically. And though he had heard stupid theories about wolves imprinting on people which could explain his instant attraction, he was sure that was all fantasy novel nonsense. All the pack wolves he had ever met never claimed to such things. It was entirely hormones, and his were running rampant that full moon with no clear explanation as to why it was entirely overriding his common sense. He had never felt so out of control.

Mrs. Blithe was right. It was dangerous for him to stay there. If he hadn’t gotten Daisy pregnant already, if he spent any more time with her he was sure to. Every second with her was more overpowering than the last. Kurt was right. He was whipped.

Now and then voices from above the wooden walk he was hiding under carried along with the thump-thump of footfalls. He had hidden at the town meeting hall, finding the wooden front porch the next and most useful hiding place of all. The soil odors easily masked his wolf musk and he could overhear town gossip. So far he already overheard people talking about their successful match and the upcoming and final bonfire. Another pair came along.

“…to the factory. The boss is freaking out. He thinks the kid is dead.”

“That servant guy of his didn’t call him?”

“Steward,” the man said, with joking mockery. “And he didn’t. I do believe they want to make him sweat.”

Rick smothered a chuckle, as Henry would not be talking to Mr. Whidbee, but would leave it to his father. But yes, they would make that man sweat. They considered naturally deserved panic a just punishment for meddling in their plans.

“But that stranger had really strange clothing.” The other said. “Like, smelly leather. Clove oil. And something weird that made me sneeze.”

Stiffening, Rick cringed. Those were all bad signs. Mr. Whidbee must have accidentally alerted the attention of a hunter, possibly one from the FBI or connected to them in his panic the night before. So stupid. Problem was, if the man did, he had to warn the pack.

Climbing out from under the walkway, Rick-the-wolf shook off the dirt then pulled into human form. His chest was still covered in dark stinky soil. Dusting it off, Rick marched up the steps.

Seeing him, the two men stared at him.

“Don’t you ever wear a shirt?” one of them laughed.

“Ha ha.” Rick shot him a dirty look. “So funny. I need to see the town elders.”

“Not without a shirt on,” that one said, still snickering.

Narrowing his eyes, Rick replied, “Daisy took it. And I am not in the mood to get it back right now.”

The two men burst into laughter. But of course they knew what had gone on between Daisy and him. Everyone knew. Everyone had planned it.

“Please,” Rick growled. “This is important. This is about that strange man who you saw at the factory.”

Both men went quickly silent, staring at him.

“You know something about that?”

“I overheard,” Rick replied irritably. “And I have good idea who it was.”

Their eyes widened. However they were immediately compliant and led Rick into the building, taking him directly to the elders’ council room. Apparently they were already in session.

The echoes from inside the council room was one of debate. Rick recognized the cold resonance of Mr. Blithe who was bickering with the elders in protest. He could hear that abusive man’s words through the door.

“…him here! That kind of wolf is a traitor to pack life. I don’t care if he is an alpha or a mingled-soul. Anyone who allies with the Holy Seven is anti-wolf.”

The two wolves with Rick peeked at him, then knocked on the door.

Someone inside opened it.

The two wolves urged Rick in first and followed him.

The room was filled to the walls with elder wolves around a boardroom table and some side chairs. Mr. Blithe stood at his end which Rick was approaching. The man’s eyes fixed on him sharply. Then he paled. It was strange, but Rick could tell this grown wolf was terrified of him. It made no sense for him to be, except maybe for Rick’s human connections and his wealth. Mr. Blithe naturally stepped aside, but squared his shoulders in defiance also.

“What can we do for you?” Elder Varu wheezed out from the head of the table.

Stepping forward, Rick took in all the pleased gazes of the wolves watching him. Well aware of what pleased them, Rick clenched his jaw.

“I have a number of things to say to you,” Rick said with bite. “But the pertinent one must come first.”

The elders gazed on him with surprise, especially on how he had addressed them.

“Firstly, I just overheard these men talking about a stranger at the factory that Mr. Whidbee had brought in.” He watched their faces for confirmation. “Were you aware of this at all?”

A number of the elders shook their heads.

But then Mac Ulfur rose from a chair at the side of the room. “That is what I am here for, if we can just move ahead to that issue.”

“But I am not finished,” Mr. Blithe protested, his eyes now raking over Rick with barely-masked loathing.

“Your objections have been noted and will be taken in consideration,” Elder Varu said. Then he gestured to Rick, “However, this seems more urgent, as it has drawn in our guest who would be otherwise occupied.”

Rick flinched, knowing that they had expected him to be with Daisy the entire day ‘creating offspring’. He wasn’t quite ready to broach that subject yet. First things were first.

Growling in his throat, Mr. Blithe stepped back and let Mac take the front.

“If you please…” Elder Varu said.

Mac glanced to Rick as he spoke. “When I was at work, this afternoon we saw the arrival of a peculiar man. He was dressed in the oddest of clothes, kind of like Hugh Jackman dressed in that movie Van Helsing.”

 Rick raised his eyebrows, impressed—first that Mac had basically described a hunter in the most succinct terms and second that he had actually seen the movie Van Hesling. He still had not seen any proof that they watched TV or movies or even got on the internet. Maybe it was all upstairs in the Blithe home and hidden in other places. After all, Farkas did have an Xbox.

“His odor was unusual. It made my nose itch.” Mac then looked to Rick. “What did you hear about the stranger that made you hurry over here?”

Nodding, Rick drew in a breath while cringing. “These two men were talking about his smell. Clove oil is a little rare, but does not make a wolf’s nose itch. It is, however, used by hunters to mask other odors—such as wolfsbane, garlic, and their own scent.”

Gasps of breaths drew in the room. They sharply exchanged worried looks.

“And you