Despite not understanding the strange urge currently inhabiting her, she couldn’t deny a certain excitement at the novelty of finding a man who stirred both woman and beast. She could use a bit of sexual relief given how long she’d gone since her last intimate encounter. However, no matter what her wolf howled in her head, she wouldn’t mark the little geek. She did after all have a reputation to uphold, and any mate she did eventually choose should at least look like a stiff breeze wouldn’t blow him over, or break with one good hug.
I want a mate whom I can respect…and love.
As a wolf of no rank, unless intelligence suddenly counted, Simon didn’t know what to do when the she-wolf came stalking toward him, hungry intent clear in her gaze, which baffled him. Simon didn’t inspire strong feelings. Heck, he was lucky if he left an impression at all. And that’s how I like it. He left the games and politics of pack life to others, content to lose himself in studies.
Science and history aside, he couldn’t deny a morbid curiosity to know what such an alpha female would want from him. Hot, sweaty sex came to mind, although he wondered what kind of injuries he’d sustain between her obviously athletic thighs. But what a way to go. As quickly as the erotic thought hit, he dismissed it. Why would she bother with him when a lady of her looks could have her pick? A shame, because he couldn’t ever recall such a feeling of awareness toward one of the opposite sex.
What a magnificent specimen of womanhood she appeared. Tall, taller than him at any rate, she possessed a pair of wide hips—ideal for grasping—and full breasts—the perfect size to smother his face. Her blonde hair refused to stay in her ponytail and stray strands curled about her face, softening her features. She reminded him of an Amazonian goddess come to stomp all over him. An alpha female who seemed to want to speak to him, even if she seemed at a loss for words when she halted before him. Eyeing him up and down like a choice piece of steak, an urge to squirm came over him, and he fought to control himself, but he had less luck convincing his cock to stay dormant. It, along with his not-often-heard inner wolf, woke, the one engorging in his baggy slacks, the other watching through his eyes with rapt attention. It was all he could do not to let his tongue hang out.
“Who are you?” the female who stood a few inches taller than him asked. Or at least, that’s what he thought she said. He couldn’t be sure given how his senses all tingled at her closeness.
She crossed her arms, impatience clear in her stance as she waited for his answer. Simon, however, terrified he’d embarrass himself in front of her—probably by speaking in gibberish or slobbering on her feet before he swooned—took off running, the survival instinct kicking in.
It only occurred to him as he tried to slip through the many bodies crowding the room, that perhaps he’d not chosen the wisest course of action. I’ve watched enough documentaries to know that showing weakness only makes a predator more determined. A quick glance over his shoulder showed her moving after him with grim purpose, the crowd splitting before her to allow her ease of passage while he struggled.
Shit! Shit! Shit! Simon couldn’t stop the panic, the irrational fear that if he let her catch him, she’d chew him up and spit him out, changing his life forever. It didn’t help that his wolf agreed, but instead of running, it wanted to lie down on its back and give her its belly. Simon might not own the strength of some of the other males, but he still had some pride.
He kept squeezing himself through the crowd until he reached an exit door. Pushing on the bar, he left the auditorium and whirled to slam the door shut, but not before he caught a glimpse of her face, her lip curling in a smile of expectation that made him shake in fear, but at the same time made him harder than he’d ever imagined.
The portal clanged shut, and not seeing anything to block it, he sprinted down the sparsely populated hall. Behind him, he heard the buzz of the crowd as a door opened, then a hushed silence as it closed and those in the hall with him stopped speaking.
“Don’t make me chase you. You won’t escape,” she called, her rich voice rolling over him and leaving goosebumps behind.
With a heavy sigh, he turned to face her. Simon knew she spoke the truth. Besides, mayhap he panicked for nothing. Maybe she just wants to talk. And maybe I turn into a rabbit on the full moon, his mind snickered in reply. As she came striding down that hall, her long, jean-clad legs eating up the distance, he swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a close affinity to all the prey in the world.
Coming to a stop before him, she sniffed him. Not a small snort, oh no, she inhaled deep up and down the length of him before stepping back with a frown.
“Would-would you mind not doing that?” he managed to say even as his heart raced faster at her closeness.
“No. Although feel free to stop me if you think you can.”
Her smirk and her words roused a spark of anger. Straightening, he looked her in the eye. “That’s just rude. Alpha or not.”
To his surprise, she inclined her head. “You’re right. I’d say I’m sorry but that would be a lie. There’s something about you that’s making my wolf spin. I’m just trying to figure out what it is.”
The honesty in her words, and the troubled look on her face, shocked him, especially since he understood what she felt. His wolf just about chased its own tail in his mind, her proximity seemingly the trigger. “Me too.” It occurred to him for an insane moment, to wonder if perhaps they found themselves struck by the mating fever. According to some mated couples, when a person met their destined one, an uncontrollable urge to claim them—mark and fuck them to be blunt—overcame them.
Simon took stock of the situation; hard cock, canines trying to drop, wolf freaking out, and an urge to lick her from head to toe. Sounded like the mating fever, except for the fact she didn’t seem to like what she saw and if he attempted something she didn’t want, could probably tear his head off without breaking a sweat. There was a reason Simon usually stuck to dating human girls. They didn’t have a tendency to bite during sex.
“Who are you?” she asked again, a frown knitting her brow.
Pushing his glasses up on his nose, another symbol of his physical weakness, he replied. “Simon. I’m the historian for the Edmonton pack, here with my pack leader to celebrate the eclipse.” More like forced. Just his luck his brother ended up the one in charge, and his older sibling had determined Simon needed to get out and meet others of their kind—AKA, find a nice she-wolf to settle down with.
“A scholar?” her scoffing tone said what she thought of his profession.
It irritated him. “Yes, a scholar, with a few degrees under his belt. And you are?”
“Deena, Toronto alpha.”
Oh fucking hell. The urge to run came back. Simon had heard about her, also known as “that crazy bitch, ball buster,” and “the emasculator.” His initial fear came back. If rumor held even a grain of truth, she ate men bigger than him for breakfast.
Her grin widened, showing white teeth that should have terrified him but instead created an image of her nibbling her way down his body. He shivered.
She thankfully mistook it for trepidation. “I see you’ve heard of me. So, Simon the scholar, are you staying at the lodge, the cabins or camping in the woods? Not that it matters. You’ll be spending the night with me.”
“I will?” Surely that questioning squeak didn’t come from him?
“I don’t know why you smell so good, but it’s making me wet, and you can’t deny you feel it too,” she boldly stated, stepping forward.