Natasha managed to maneuver the back country roads okay with Jacques’s guidance. Melody had been right. She probably would’ve gotten lost if she’d tried to find Jacques’s house on her own. Most of the shifter neighborhoods still remained hidden or without community signs at the entrance. Either they did this on purpose or they didn’t see a reason to make it any easier for people to seek them out.

Since Dr. Hayes had given Jacques painkillers that made him incredibly drowsy and disoriented, getting Jacques out of the car and into his home had been a little trickier. He walked himself up the steps with one arm draped over her shoulder and she managed to get him in bed before the dose of whatever Dr. Hayes gave him put him to sleep.

Not wanting to leave his side, she had curled up in the big comfy chair beside the bed with a blanket and went to sleep.

Natasha woke up the next morning to find the sheets folded back on Jacques’s bed with him not in it. She propelled herself forward and flew to her feet.

“Jacques!”

“I’m in here,” he called out from the connected bathroom.

She breathed a sigh of relief and looked toward the bathroom. The door was slightly ajar and she heard the water running.

“You’re not supposed to be up and on your feet, you know,” she reminded him.

He chuckled. “Don’t worry. I had to use the bathroom, take a shower…get cleaned up. I’m okay.”

Natasha huffed. “I told Dr. Hayes that I’d make sure you stayed off your feet.”

“He’s been seeing me since I was a child. He’s treated me maybe a dozen times for broken bones and other things. He knew I wasn’t going to listen. That’s why he injected me with painkillers. Well, he said it was a painkiller, but I think it was actually a sleep aid. I’m still sore, but I’m okay,” he said.

She pressed her palm to the door. “Do you need help?”

He swung the door open, revealing himself standing there in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs with a damp towel hung over his shoulders. She hadn’t noticed it before, but among some scars and his most recent bruises, there was a tiny natural patch on his left shoulder that was a little darker in color than his copper-toned skin. The patch was hexagon-shaped. A mark. Maybe a birthmark.

He grinned. “Like what you see?”

Natasha blushed. “Obviously you don’t need any help.”

Her gaze raked over the pure male perfection standing right in front of her. His physical imperfections were an integral part of him now. Each scar probably told a story and they molded him into the man he was today. Despite it all, he was perfect. Every time she looked at him, she couldn’t deny the truth—couldn’t deny that she wanted him.

“And yes…I love what I see,” she added.

“You’re late for work,” he said. “You don’t have to skip work for me.”

She bit her bottom lip and shrugged. “They probably don’t really care. I actually gave them my two weeks notice last week. Melody put me in touch with the principal of Aspen Valley Wolf Creek Academy. They’re in dire need of a middle school science teacher and they want to hire me.”

He smiled. “I went to that school. All twelve years. My grandma also taught there for thirty-two years.”

“I was really impressed when I took a tour. I think I’ll like it there,” she said.

Suddenly and without warning, he scooped her up and began walking toward the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“What you did to me,” he said. “Carrying you to the bed.”

“Well, you’re the one who got knocked out, not me,” she protested.

He bellowed in laughter and then placed her gently on the foot of the bed. “Must you remind me that the first time you saw me in one of my tournaments that I lost?”

“There’s always next time. And next time, I want you to win for me.”

He sat next to her and cupped her chin in his palm. “I’d love nothing more than to win for you.”

She smiled.

“Why did you really come last night, Natasha?” he asked.

She swallowed. “Truthfully? I was angry because you didn’t stick around to hear how I felt about you, or your situation, or about us.”

“I heeded your father’s warning. He wants me to have nothing to do with you, but he doesn’t even understand the half of it.”

“I want my dad to understand what you mean to me, but if he doesn’t, that’s okay. Either he accepts us or he doesn’t.”

Jacques lay back on the bed and folded his arms under his head. Natasha followed his lead but curled up on her left side to peer at his profile.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“This decision that you’re making with me will change your life…forever. You do understand that right?”

“Yes.”

“My love for you won’t be temporary. Once a wolf finds a woman who he knows was made just for him, he loves her forever,” he said.

“Isn’t that the case with all true love stories?”

“You mean in those romance books,” he asked.

She laughed. “No…in real life.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never felt this way about anybody else. Just you.”

She propped her head up with her hand. “I’m willing to trust again if you’re willing to accept that I want you exactly the way you are.”

“Exactly?”

“Exactly.”

“Have you ever heard the story of Little Red and the Wolf?” he asked.

“You mean little red riding hood? Isn’t that a fairytale?”

“It’s much more than a tale,” he answered. “It’s sort of a life lesson.”

“A lesson?”

He nodded. “In the story, Little Red is out in a big unfamiliar town exploring all of her options, but she does have a plan. She’s seeking out something new and exciting. Maybe a little mischief and maybe something that will change her outlook on everything.”

“Would Little Red happen to be me?”

Jacques didn’t say a word. He just lifted his hand to her hair and pulled his fingers gently through her tresses. He brought her strands to his nose and breathed in deeply.

“Little Red meets the Wolf in her quest to become whole again,” he continued.

She gave short laugh. “Let me guess. The big bad wolf.”

He nodded. “Big…and bad. The wolf is mostly everything that she’s not. He’s secretive, mysterious, and she’s curious about his true nature. She invites him into her world ignoring the warning of others. Her father…her friends. While deep in the woods very close to this wolf’s natural habitat, she quizzes him and observes him. The wolf was well-bred, refined…but he was a loner. With their time alone, the wolf learns more about this woman than she cares to verbally express. He learns that they share a deeper connection than he previously realized. He learns through her emotions and her actions what she truly needs and wants in a man. But the wolf has been alone so long that he doesn’t know that he can give that to her or even replicate what a normal life should be. But he knows that she is his. She is patient, however. She’s not afraid to go after what she deserves either. The ultimate goal of the wolf is to claim her, of course. To have and hold her as mate forever. But to keep her, the wolf must believe that he can give her the world and more. And he must work toward doing just that.”

“Does he?” she asked, rubbing her fingertips along his forearms admiring the way his bronzed skin contrasted against her lighter complexion.

Jacques turned on his side and his darkened expression lightened as he assessed her. “In the end, Little Red and the Wolf get their happy ending. She’s satisfied beyond her wildest imaginations and he gets his mate.”

“That’s very romantic.” She traced a hexagon-shaped birthmark on his shoulder, wondering how she hadn’t seen it last night. “But I’ve never been satisfied beyond my wildest imaginations. I’m not sure that’s even possible. Maybe you’ll have to show me,” she said, lifting her gaze to meet his.

His stormy grey eyes gleamed with a savage inner fire. Natasha wasn’t sure who made the first move, but their mouths connected in burning need. His demanding lips caressed hers, awakening a response deep within her. They kissed a long time, and then he pulled her legs over his center so that she was straddling him. She lowered her mouth to his, working her lips against his and sliding her tongue between his lips. His tongue met hers, moving together, hungrily…

Her body trembled against him and a part of her sensed that he was holding back, restraining himself with every ounce of self-control. And he had a lot of it. He’d been patient with her, but she didn’t want patience. The hard length of him was conveniently pressed against her aroused sex. She rocked into him and felt him moan against her lips.

Jacques’s hands gripped her by the waist, holding her as if he didn’t want to let go. His lips claimed her over and over again as if he wanted this hot encounter to be a lasting memory—and never forgotten.

One gentle hand slid up between them and inside her shirt to cup her breast. Even with clothes and the lace of her bra shielding her, she was shocked at how good his touch felt to her. She parted from him long enough to pull her shirt up over her head. Jacques’s fingers moved quickly around her to undo her bra. Once she was fully exposed, he bathed her with his gaze. He reached up to touch her again and her breasts filled his hands. With each stroke of her nipple, they tightened. Her moans only seemed to turn him on and his cock hardened even more against her.

He came to a sitting position with her still straddling his legs. The moment he laved her nipple with his tongue, she knew she was done for. His arm was around her with his palm pressed to the center of her back while he licked and sucked one nipple and then the other. He used fingers, mouth, teeth, and tongue to work her nipples into hardened peaks.

She threw her head back, wrapped her hands behind his neck, and gave herself to him. Her clit was pulsing in intense need already and she wished that her pussy was clenching his cock instead of nothing at all.

His lips were warm and damp against her as he teased her with his expert tongue. He didn’t stop until she was trembling against him in what she could only describe as the makings of a really intense orgasm building within her.

With strength and speed that surprised her, he flipped her over so that he was hovered over her.

“But…” she started to protest.

“Sssh,” he breathed against her belly. “I want you to enjoy this.”

He left her only a moment to rid himself of his boxer briefs. She caught a brief glimpse of the long thickness of him. He was hard as iron and so aroused that the full length of him stood at undivided attention.

He unzipped her jeans, tugging down on the waistband to help her wiggle out of them and her panties. While he kneeled over her, she reached out and touched his cock. She couldn’t help herself. Her hands were already moist from the intensity of their foreplay and she stroked and squeezed him within her grasp.

“Shit, your hands are so soft,” he groaned. “Careful…if you keep doing that this will be over too soon.”

He lifted her hand up to his mouth, kissed her fingertips, and then lowered himself between her legs. He rained kissed down and across both thighs until she was begging for him. His fingers found her pussy and he teased her sensitive clit.

“Look at this pretty pink pussy,” he murmured. “I imagined eating you every day and fucking you with my tongue until you screamed my name. I waited. My fucking cock got hard as a rock every time you looked at me.” He dipped his finger in and out of her sex. “Fuck…you’re even ready and wet for me now.”

“Jacques…”

“Is that what you’d like, Natasha? My tongue fucking your pussy?”

“Oh my God,” she breathed. “Yes.”

The tip of his tongue darted over her clit, testing her limits. Just when she thought this couldn’t feel any better, he slid his tongue between her slit and lapped at her. He devoured her pussy, nipping gently at her inner and outer lips. He tugged on her clit with the same attention that he gave her nipples. He slurped on her like she was sweeter than honey. Before long, she was so wet that his lips glistened with her essence.

“You taste so fucking good,” he groaned against her.

Jacques pushed two fingers inside of her and worked in and out in tempo with his tongue stroking her clit. Her climax hit her without warning, like a meteor shower of blinding ecstasy. She gripped the top of his head, rode his face, and called out his name.

When he came up over her, she was still reeling in post-orgasmic bliss. He kissed her and she tasted her own nectar. His lips were moist, warm, and sweet. Their breaths came in shallow bursts in between the kisses.

Natasha parted her legs to accommodate him and pulled him downward so that his heavy cock brushed against her mound.

“I need you inside me,” she begged, wrapping her legs around him.

He moaned. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I won’t break,” she assured him, sliding her palm against his face.

“I want you so bad…” he said. “My control is fading.”

“Lose control just this once. I know you’re not going to hurt me, Jacques. You’re going to fuck me,” she told him. But it was more of a demand.

“Christ,” he groaned, pressing his cock against her slick pussy.

He tested her readiness, pushing the head inside. She bit her lips and lifted her hips upward.

“I want this,” she said. “I want you.”

“Of course you do.”

Jacques buried himself inside, driving in all the way to the hilt, inch by inch until she was full of his cock. Finally, her muscles had something to grip. A big, hard long meaty cock that sent her straight into another orgasm the moment he started moving.

“You’re so…fucking…right for me. So tight.” Jacques pressed his mouth against the delicate curve of her throat and kissed and nipped her softly there as he worked his cock in and out.

He drove over and over again with impressive accuracy. Each stroke sent her above and beyond her wildest imaginations. He gripped her hips, held her steady against the bed, and plunged into her until the walls of her pussy were convulsing around him and her juices had completely coated his thick shaft. His balls began to fill and tighten. She could feel them slapping against her each time they collided. Just the thought of him filling her with his seed sent her over the edge…again. He followed her into orgasm and it was beautiful. Warm liquid pulsed up inside of her and coated her insides, causing a rush so intense that she felt it in the tips of all her toes.

“Oh…” she panted in the aftermath.

“Oh is right,” he agreed, still holding her in his arms with his face pressed against her shoulder.

She loved the way he held her. The weight of him never even bothered her. She hugged him close, pulling him tightly against her. They remained quiet while the remnants of their lovemaking lingered around them.

While Natasha held Jacques, she stroked her fingers through his buzz cut and gently massaged his scalp. He seemed to like being stroked this way. As his breathing began to regulate, she found the distinct hexagon-shaped birthmark on his shoulder that she’d seen the night before and pressed a single kiss to it.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she said.

“Now that I belong to you and you belong to me, you’ll wear my mark soon.”

“That’s unique and very romantic,” she whispered. “We never got to that part of the story.”

“We’re going to write our own story. And who knows…maybe we’ll even publish it one day.”

She smiled. “Yes, we should write our own version of Little Red and the Wolf.”

He kissed her forehead gently.

“Are you sure you’re still okay? This wasn’t moderate stretching by a long shot. And your skin is burning hot now.”

“I burn for you, Natasha,” he said. “And only for you.”