Laurie's Wolves (26 page)

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Authors: Becca Jameson

Tags: #Paranormal Romance

BOOK: Laurie's Wolves
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Laurie stiffened. “You know it isn’t like that.”

“Really? What’s it like then?” Her mom pulled the chair out from the desk, flipped it around, and sat. At least she didn’t sit on the edge of the bed and attempt to stroke Laurie’s hair or arm this time. The contact would have made her cringe.

“I’m not some sort of goddess. I’m just suggesting my presence is unwanted by the spirits.”

“And I’m suggesting that’s preposterous.”

Laurie flinched again. What did her mother know? She hadn’t been there. Hadn’t seen the things that happened right in front of Laurie’s eyes.

“Don’t you think there could be another explanation? Maybe the spirit guides are trying to get your attention. But couldn’t it be for another purpose? Perhaps they didn’t mean for you to leave but for you to
lead
.”

“Lead?”

“Yes. Guide the folks of both counties into a better world. Stay. Fight the hard fight. Win.”

“What fight?” Laurie was confused, but she concentrated on her mother’s words.

“Racism. Judgmental thinking. Obviously someone has to stand up against that sort of bigotry. Why not you?”

Laurie moaned. “Why me?”

“Because you’re a kind, sensitive soul. You always have been. You’ve never meant anyone a moment of harm in your entire life. It must be hard facing that sort of adversarial resistance. Especially for the first time. But you’ll face it—head on. And you’ll win. And it will happen again and again for the rest of your life.

“People are mean. They’re ignorant. You’re indeed a mixture of Native American and Caucasian. It’s who you are. You can’t change it. You can only fight against the flagrant racism that will occasionally be thrown at you.”

“I’d rather it not be in the form of bricks.”

“Me too. But don’t let them win. If you let them win, you’ll hate yourself.” Her mother paused, and then she lowered her voice. “And there’s another thing you can’t change any more than your race.”

Laurie held her breath.

“Your mates. You’re not human. You do not get to pick your mates. None of us do. At least not in the conventional sense. Sure, sometimes two shifters meet and fall in love and circumvent the system a bit, but in the end they’re still mates. We mate for life. It isn’t something you can break. Not without tremendous heartache that would last for months. Perhaps years. Debilitating heartache.”

Laurie didn’t respond. She tried to soak in her mother’s words and remain immobile.

“I’ll let you think about that.” Joyce stood. “If you need me, yell.” She left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Laurie closed her eyes. As usual, every time she did so, she was met with a running reel of her mates behind her lids, as though she were watching a film. It wouldn’t stop.

She smashed her face into the pillow and fought against the tears welling up behind her eyelids. She was losing this battle. She could deny it verbally all she wanted, but the truth was her body craved the proximity of her mates with a force out of her control.

The ache between her legs increased. She concentrated on the pulsing of her clit that had a life of its own. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was swollen and stiff. And the wetness between her legs was undeniable.

She tried to think of anything else—anything unpleasant that would take her mind off sex—cow dung, the smell of raw sewage, the swirl of city residue as it runs down the edges of the street.

Nothing worked.

Her mind wandered back to her mates. Visions she couldn’t control flooded her mind instead of anything distasteful.

She pictured Corbin’s hands on her hips, the way he gripped her and held her steady before pressing his cock into her wet heat.

She arched into the sensation as if he were in the room with her now.

Zach leaning over her body, spreading her knees with his before nestling into the V and suckling her nipples until they ached with need.

They ached with the same need now.

She flipped onto her back in frustration, unable to prevent herself from imagining her mates arranging her in the way they wanted.

Her legs fell open. Her panties were soaked.

As if her hand weren’t in her control, she smoothed it down her belly and over her mound. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t succumb to the need to masturbate, but she couldn’t stop it. Like a freight train, it came barreling forward. It seemed to slam into its destination the second her fingers landed on her clit and stroked the swollen nub through the thin layer of cotton.

God, it felt so good. Amazing.

She dug her heels into the bed and lifted her hips off the mattress. With her free hand, she pinched her nipple.

A soft moan escaped her lips, startling her. She pursed her lips to keep from crying out. She needed to come so badly. She was on fire, her body so hot it burned.

Her legs shook.

Her nipples were so sensitive she had to lessen the pressure on the tip.

The stroking over her clit wasn’t enough. In a frenzy, she shrugged out of her panties and whipped her shirt over her head. She was still under the covers, so no one would be able to see anything if they walked in. Plus, she couldn’t stop herself. She was past the point of no return. She needed release. And it didn’t matter how.

Shaking, she reached again for her nipples with both hands. She bit her lower lip and flicked the tips rapidly.

Her pussy pulsed with renewed need. Her legs fell open. She widened them.

Releasing her nipples, she smoothed her hands down her body and pressed her thighs open wider. As if she were a robot on autopilot, she spread her lower lips apart and arched her head back, exposing her neck to the visions of her men licking a path up her skin toward her ears.

It felt so fucking good. And she needed more.

She stroked a finger through her folds, coming off the bed. Her heels dug in deeper. She thrust her pussy upward. Sweet torture.

Unable to resist the need to come, she thrust two fingers into her channel and fucked herself hard and fast.

Not enough. It felt so good. Her vision swam. Her breath caught in her throat.

But it still wasn’t enough.

She reached for her clit with her other hand and rapidly flicked the tight nub.

Her mouth fell open wide. She squeezed her eyes shut against the light of day, causing her mates to come front and center in her visions.

The orgasm built.

Thrusting her fingers faster, she moaned softly.

So good.

So close.

Right on the edge. That place just before bliss. She held it. And she needed more. She needed to fall over the edge.

She fucked herself harder, her entire body stiff. The smell of her need filled the room. Lust. Female arousal. Potent.

Now.

Oh, God.

Now.

Please, God.

The ache in her belly grew worse. She tightened her muscles against the need. All her blood had congregated in her pussy.

She pinched her clit and cried out loud enough to have to bite her tongue. Too sensitive.

Her hand started to cramp. Her body shook violently.

She did not come.

In frustration, she finally stopped.

She flattened her body on the bed and let her hands fall to her sides. Breathing heavily, she shivered multiple times. Her body convulsed. Her pussy ached, her lower lips swollen with need.

She had to tent the sheet with her hand finally to get it off her clit and her nipples. They all three hurt. Too sensitive.

And the pain in her belly grew.

A tear ran down her face.

What was wrong with her?

Still she needed to come. Badly. Like a drug addict. The pressure on her sex was intense. Her blood stayed in the vicinity, engorging her lower lips, her clit, and the hood too. Even her ass squeezed in on itself with the need to be filled.

It wasn’t as though she had a vibrator on hand. She hadn’t fled Cambridge thinking about sex toys.

Besides, as her breathing slowed to a manageable pace, she admitted to herself that nothing would work. This was Nature’s way of ensuring she stayed with her mates.

She didn’t need anyone to tell her. She knew it in her soul.

Finally, she rolled onto her side and curled into a ball again, willing sleep to take her away from her need to be fucked.

She lay very still for a long time, squeezing her thighs together and trying to relax her belly. Nothing worked.

Her swollen breasts throbbed. Even the slightest touch was too much.

She didn’t move. Her mind conjured up nothing but visions of her mates fucking her in ways they had not yet explored. Hard. Fast. Deep.

She needed them to take her roughly.

And they were two hours away, probably pissed. Possibly in as much pain as her. Was she a bitch? Maybe.

God, just let it snow. A blizzard of unbelievable proportions would be nice about now.

She no longer wanted to prove she controlled the weather. She wanted to prove she did not.

Chapter Eighteen

Corbin tossed the paper he was staring at on his desk and closed his eyes for the billionth time, regretting it instantly. He had accomplished nothing all day. He finally hauled himself up and strode across the room to his boss’s office.

The sheriff lifted his head. “Still no word?”

Corbin had told Sheriff Richards about his plight first thing that morning. Thank God the man was a shifter
,
or today would have been far more difficult to explain. “Nothing.”

“Go home. You look like hell.”

Corbin tried to smile. He did not succeed. He
felt
like hell. Several people had asked him if he was coming down with something. When he’d gone to the restroom, he’d seen a man with flu-like symptoms in the mirror. He did not have the flu. He had a broken claiming. “I’m going to do that.”

“Take tomorrow. It’s Saturday. You’ll need it. Go get her.”

“I can’t.”

“Why the hell not?” Richards frowned. “Who wears the pants in your house? Don’t be a wuss,” he teased.

“Oh, if only it were that simple. If you had to pick one of us to wear the pants, I guarantee it wouldn’t be me or Zach. And if I piss my woman off any more than she already is, I’ll regret it. She asked for three days.”

“Three days?” Richards lifted his brow and then whistled low and long. “Good luck with that. I’ll get someone to cover your shift until you can take care of um…business.” He waved a hand through the air as if to avoid stating the obvious. There was no way he didn’t realize the constant hard-on Corbin sported.

“Thanks. Later.” Corbin left, gritting his teeth all the way to his truck. His cock was so damn stiff, he thought it would explode. It was less than pleasant. And he hadn’t wanted to stand in the bathroom all day jerking off, so he’d fought that urge and ignored the stiff erection. Or tried to.

All he could picture was Laurie’s sexy naked body in every imaginable position the entire day. He even managed to conjure positions he’d never visualized before. And they were smoking hot and taking over his brain.

He eased into his truck, shut the door, and tugged on the seatbelt, wincing at the way it pressed against his dick.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes in exhaustion.
“Zach. I’m leaving work. Where are you?”

“At the lower lodge. I’ll leave soon and meet you at my place.”

“Okay. You…uh…have any problems today?”
He couldn’t think how to ask the man if he had sported a hard-on similar to Corbin’s or not.

“If you mean, have I dealt with a line of people who wanted their money back for their season passes, not too many. If you’re asking about the blue balls, then yes. I’m about to pass out.”

Corbin chuckled into Zach’s head, though it was not funny in the least.
“I’ll see you at home.”

He drove on autopilot, thankful the road between Sojourn and Cambridge had finally been reopened. It took some work, but a combination of salt and sand had cleared the ice, or at least made it less dangerous.

Corbin drove until he reached the long stretch of road where the two counties met. With a sudden rush of need, he pulled off the main road onto a gravel side road and turned off the car. He jumped down from the truck bed and wandered aimlessly across the thick brush toward the base of the mountain.

When he finally stopped, he looked around. Shift? He unbuttoned his uniform pants and lowered the zipper.

On second thought, he needed to come. Forget shifting. What he needed was release. He lowered his pants and underwear enough to allow himself to take his cock in hand.

The first stroke from base to tip made him groan. He reached out with his free hand and braced himself against the nearest tree. “Oh, God. I needed this,” he mumbled into the silence. He didn’t give a shit about the cold. He only cared about getting release.

He gripped just hard enough to speed up the process and thrusted up and down, letting his fist ease over the tip of his dick with each pass. He gathered the copious precome from the head and used it as lubricant to keep from chaffing.

His eyes fluttered closed, bringing up visions of Laurie kneeling in front of him. Her eyes were wide as she sucked his cock deep into her mouth and moaned around the shaft.

Corbin moaned too, gritting his teeth against the tightening in his cock. His balls drew up higher. He thrust faster. Harder.

“Oh, God.”

He stiffened his entire body as his blood raced to his engorged shaft.

He’d expected to shoot off in seconds. Instead he found himself on the edge of orgasm, not quite slipping over. He’d never had this problem in his life. Nor had he been this aroused. What the hell?

He thrust faster, loosening his grip. After a few minutes, he realized he was holding his breath. He gasped for oxygen and released his cock. He leaned against the tree, holding himself marginally upright with both forearms, his breathing heavy, his legs wobbly.

When he caught his breath, he cursed, tipping his head back and screaming his frustration. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

It took several long moments for him to recoup enough energy to move, at which point he glanced down at his semi-flaccid cock and groaned.

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