Chapter Thirteen
Cliff hesitated for a moment. “Why would you think that?”
“Celia told me.” As soon as she said it, she felt foolish. If Celia’s glossed lips were moving, she was lying. But still…Cliff didn’t look quite as reassuring as she would have hoped.
He shook his head. “That’s a lie. There is some risk in turning, that’s true, but it’s nowhere near that high even if you did it without preparation.”
So there was a risk that she’d die. She felt as if she’d been punched in the gut. Slowly, she sank down onto a folding chair and looked up at him. He sat down next to her, his knee touching hers.
She swallowed bile and looked at him, her expression pained. “Why didn’t you tell me there was a risk? You said you would never lie to me.”
“There’s a difference between lying and not providing information until it’s necessary or useful.”
This was her life he was talking about. And he hadn’t thought it was necessary to tell her that in two weeks she might die? Filled with anger, she jumped to her feet and walked towards the door.
He ran after her and grabbed her arm. “Wait,” he barked.
She yanked her arm away from him. “Quit being so bossy,” she said.
His hand closed on her arm again. “When it comes to keeping you safe, I will do whatever I have to do, whether you or anyone else likes it or not,” he growled.
“You should have told me,” she insisted stubbornly.
“I wanted to give you a little time to settle in here. Finding out that werewolves exist and you’re now one of us is a lot to absorb. I’m trying to make things as stress-free as possible for you here.” Then he gave a rueful laugh. “And I’m doing a hell of a job, aren’t I?”
She looked up at him, at his beautiful eyes, at the wrinkles of regret creasing his forehead, and softened a little. “It’s not your fault there’s a whackjob trying to take over your pack. And it’s not your fault that someone turned me without my knowledge or permission. But I want to know what I’m facing. I have that right.”
He nodded. “Yes, you do. Here’s the thing. The risk would be much, much higher if you hadn’t come here. When someone is turned by a werewolf bite and has no idea what’s coming, then the shock alone, the psychological distress caused by the shift, can kill. But you know what’s coming, and you’re going to be prepared for this in every way possible. Anita will be by your side to lend you whatever healing energy you need.”
“Okay. That makes me feel better. How will you prepare me?”
“We’re going to go back to my house and start training right now.”
She shook her head. “Really, you have to prepare for the Alpha Trials. I don’t want to do anything that would put you at risk. You could have James work with me, or Truman, or anyone you trust.”
“I’m not doing any training at this point. The trials involve some extreme obstacle courses and wild game hunting, and I can assure you, I’m in peak physical condition.” He allowed himself a smug smile. “I believe I proved it to you last night.”
Taylor had to laugh, despite the seriousness of their conversation, and she felt her dark mood lightening. “Sure, okay, you are the mighty hunter. You prime specimen of manhood, you.”
He grinned. “Thank you. I try. No, who am I kidding, I succeed. Every time.”
“Whoo. Should we step outside?” Taylor stifled a snicker. “I’m not sure there’s room in here for me, you, and your ego.” They headed for the door. “But where were you this morning?”
“I was meeting up with Truman and James to see if they’d found anything out about your turning. Unfortunately, so far, we’ve got nothing.”
“Well, that’s a bummer.” Taylor tried to keep her tone light.
“Yep. A bummer indeed.” They headed for his mansion, which was a ten-minute walk from the center of town. “I’m not giving up,” he said.
When they got back to his house, he led her to a large sitting room area, locked all the doors, and sat down with her on an overstuffed sofa.
“Swear to me that this isn’t taking time away from anything you need to do to prepare for the trials,” she said to him, settling in comfortably.
“I, Cliff Bronson, being of somewhat sound mind and better than sound body, do solemnly swear…”
“Jerk! Take it seriously!” She slapped him playfully. He captured her hand in his, and she felt a red-holt lightning bolt of arousal sizzle through her veins.
“Just so you know,” he said, his voice gone slightly husky, “whenever you touch me, the only thing I want to do is rip your clothes off and ravish you. So I’m going to move away from you a little bit, so I can concentrate on your very important training and you can stop distracting me, evil temptress. But don’t take it personally.”
He slid along the couch.
“Jeez, how could I possibly take that personally?” she said with a smile.
“Lean back and close your eyes.”
She obeyed.
His voice surrounded her like a warm caress. “I want you to imagine turning into a wolf. First, you feel it building in your body, like a sneeze…or an orgasm. Your fur tickles from the inside out, like reverse pins-and-needles.”
Taylor shivered as she imagined the sensation.
“We’ll be out in woods, and you’ll be aware of the sharp scent of pine and the cool hush of the wind.” His voice was quiet and lulling, almost hypnotic. “Let that sensation build, and when you’re ready…release it.”
She shuddered again.
“You’ll feel your teeth lengthening into fangs. Your wolf uncurling inside you and pushing to the surface. You’ll feel the dampness of the fallen leaves on the forest floor between your fingers and toes as your palms become paw pads…”
It was as if the room fell away from her and she was in the middle of a dense forest.
She could almost feel it, a sense of power filling her, the fur flowing over her skin, fangs thrusting forth from her gums. She knew her wolf would be snowy-white with ice-blue eyes.
There were a couple of minutes of silence as she mentally played the scene out in her head, and then he said, “Okay, open your eyes now.”
She shivered and jerked herself back to reality. Cliff was standing up now, unbuttoning his crisp white Oxford shirt.
“Oh, and I’m the evil temptress?” Taylor said indignantly as he kicked off his Oxfords and shucked his pants and underwear.
She couldn’t keep her eyes off his body. Oh, who was she kidding? She didn’t try. She let her gaze linger on his broad shoulders and muscular chest. The smooth, tan skin between the flat copper coins of his nipples was dusted with curly black hair that tapered into a treasure tail leading down tantalizingly over his flat belly to his heavy, half-hard cock. Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip as she imagined taking the head in her mouth and sucking him like a lollipop. It obviously didn’t take a mind-reader to know what she was thinking about.
“Calm down there, gorgeous. I’m going to show you how it’s done.”
“Sex? I’m pretty sure I know.”
He snorted. “Oh, I’m more than pretty sure. And you are damn amazing at it.”
“I am?” She hid a smile.
“Judging by my many orgasms, yes. But what I’m going to show you is how we shift. I know you’ve seen it before, but I want you to feel completely comfortable with it. I’m going to do it slowly. Watch me, and imagine yourself doing it with me. Shifting, not screwing!” he added, trying to look stern as she laughed.
“I’m sorry, when you’re stark naked and rock hard, everything you say sounds like a double entendre. Please. Proceed.” Cliff took a deep breath. He curled his hands into fists, and she saw his biceps flex and swell. He closed his caramel-colored eyes, and a ripple of concentration appeared between his brows. She realized he was focusing hard to draw out his shift so she could see every change – see how he flowed from one state to the other.
He parted his lips and she saw that his canine teeth had lengthened into fangs. His fingernails narrowed and lengthened into claws and his fingers curved, drawing back. She quickly looked back to his face and saw that his mouth and nose were pushing out into a muzzle, his ears swiveling and drawing into points.
She imagined her own ears doing the same, and felt the faint twitch of unfamiliar muscles in her scalp. She imagined the almost invisible, silky-fine peach fuzz at her hairline prickling over her face, the feeling staticky and ticklish, as she watched silver-grey fur wash over Cliff’s wolfish features.
He dropped to all fours and gave a sharp yip, then grinned a doggy grin at her, pink tongue lolling from his mouth as he panted.
She stepped cautiously towards him, some part of her screaming that she was walking up to a wild animal, even though she knew it was Cliff. She buried her fingers in the heavy, shaggy fur of his mane, enjoying its raw silk texture.
When she released him, he shook himself like a wet dog. Then, with the same painstaking slowness, he began to change back into human form. His ribcage expanded and his thighbones lengthened, spine uncurling as he stood, flexing his fingers and rolling his shoulders. There was a quiet pop as he cracked his neck to the side, as if working out the stiffness.
He settled down on the couch, stark naked and dangerously close.
She forced herself to look him in the eye and ignore his enormous erection.
“So you can shift any time you want, and control the speed?”
“I can control the speed. Most people can’t. And we don’t have full control over our shifts until we’re adults. Children don’t start turning until they’re around kindergarten age, and they have very little control over it. For most shifters, it’s much easier to shift if someone is attacking us or we sense we’re in danger. But the week before the full moon, our animal nature starts to come out. We crave red meat, and we become more aggressive, and hairier. The evening of the full moon, we all turn, and it’s different from when we voluntarily shift during the rest of the month. We abandon ourselves to our animal nature on the full moon. We run through the woods and hunt and howl. No human would be safe near us then.”
She shivered. “That’s a little scary. Losing all control like that.”
He reached out and took her hand in his. “No harm can come to you. The reason we have these enormous grounds is to ensure there’s no chance we’ll encounter humans when we turn, and that’s the only possible risk to us. We also have some extremely well-paid human guards on patrol outside the property. When you turn, I’ll be with you the whole time. We’re going to do these meditation exercises every day until it’s time for your turn. The turn won’t come as a physical or emotional shock to you.”
She did her best to believe him, and not to feel frightened. Being scared wouldn’t help.
“How do you keep your existence hidden from the world, if you turn every full moon?” she asked.
“Well, most of us lead pretty private lives, and we live on pack property. Now, people like Shelley, who live off pack property for various reasons, come back here during the full moon. But we make sure that Shelley is away from the company frequently, not just during the full moon, so it won’t be obvious that she vanishes at the same time every month. The same thing with me and Grant. We travel a lot around the world; sometimes we’re publicly visible and available, sometimes we aren’t.”
He was still holding her hand, and she felt the air in the room growing warmer. She squirmed a little in her seat.
“Stop tempting me. We’re training.” He tried to sound stern and failed.
“You’re the one sitting there stark naked and handsome as a Greek god! A statue would be tempted.”
He slid a finger under her chin. “Do you know what happens to students who don’t pay attention to their lessons?”
Her breath caught in her throat. “No, but I hope I’m about to find out.”
“Their teachers have to punish them. I see a spanking in your very near future.”
“But what are you going to do to punish me?” she taunted him, and scooted away on the couch. “You’re an Alpha. You like the chase. If you’re going to punish me, you’re going to have to catch me first.”
She leaped to her feet and ran for the door.
She was halfway down the corridor before she heard Cliff’s naked soles on the tiles as he came after her, but the head start did her no good. He seized her around the waist and, as she kicked and shrieked with laughter, slung her over his shoulder as though she weighed nothing. Then he loped easily back towards the sitting room. He took a seat on the couch and wrestled Taylor over his lap. She struggled – but not too hard. The idea of being spanked was deliciously intriguing, and her breath was coming quickly, not entirely from the play-fight.
Cliff flipped up her skirt and settled his palm on the back of her silky panties. He made an appreciative humming noise as he ran his hand over the curve of her buttock, and she squirmed in his lap, very aware of the press of his erection against her tummy. Being sprawled over his naked lap was enough to make moisture trickle from her core.
“You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?” he murmured, playing with the band of lace at the waist of her panties.
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” she shot back.
Cliff’s fingers stilled. “Hmm,” he said. “Sassy.” And he yanked her panties down, leaving her bare bottom and her damp pussy exposed to the air.
She gasped and wriggled, but he held her in place with a firm hand on her backside.
He rubbed his hand in a circle on the tender flesh, then drew back his palm and brought it down with a resounding smack. The sharp sting on her buttock quickly turned into a spreading warmth that lit up her nerve endings and had her biting back a moan of arousal.
“You like that?” he asked her, smoothing his fingers over the spot he’d just smacked, in a soothing, circular motion.
“Yes,” she said. “No! Cliff…”
He dipped his fingers between her legs, where she knew she was wet with desire, and toyed with her clit for a moment. Then he brought his hand down again with another sharp crack, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain shooting through her entire body. Her nipples furled and her pussy clenched hard on nothing. She moaned, and Cliff shifted underneath her. He was painfully hard now, and she caught her breath sharply as she imagined that full, thick length sliding inside her.
“One more,” he said, and his voice was so hoarse with need it was almost a growl.
He brought his hand down onto the sensitive pink skin and she made a noise that was halfway between a yelp and a moan as the tingling warmth swept through her. She struggled out of his arms, panting and flushed, and caught just the faintest hint of uncertainty in his eyes before she scrambled onto his lap.