Sherry's Wolf (11 page)

“Why didn’t they love me?” she wailed into the wolf’s neck. “Why were they so mean to me? What’s wrong with me that no one ever loved me?”

The wolf raised his head to lick at her face.

“Even the dog hated me.” A wild wolf licked her tears, but a family pet had made her childhood a living hell. How many times had she crept past him to get to the bedroom she shared with her sister only to have Chantelle call the dog and tell him to bite Sherry? He never did bite, but the threat alone had petrified the little girl. “I never felt safe unless I was out of that house. Sometimes I wonder how I survived to grow up.”

The wolf blew hot air at her, and suddenly she wasn’t clutching rough gray fur but smooth brown skin. Stag, on his knees, embraced her. Her first reaction was to stiffen and try to push him away.

“Oh, Sherry,” he whispered against her throat. His voice was rough with tears. “I wish I would have been there. I would have protected you.”

She wished he had been there, too. That little girl had needed a champion. Stag was warm against her, a living shield against a cruel world. “I bet that big old dog would have run away from you.”

“My wolf would have shredded him. Sherry, they should have loved you.” He pulled back to look into her eyes. “You deserved to be loved and protected. You deserved it then and you deserve it now.” Tear tracks gleamed like liquid silver down his cheeks. “I promise I will always love you and protect you. Even if you never accept me, I will take care of you, the way your dad and your brothers should have. They were selfish, cruel assholes.”

The last word was vehement. Sherry had never heard Stag use such foul language. Somehow it comforted her. She sniffed loudly and wiped a hand under her nose. She probably looked awful. Her head hurt and her eyes were swollen almost shut by her tears and her nose was running. She tried to smile at him. The smile was a trembling failure. “Thank you.”

She’d had to go fifty years into the future to find someone who saw her father and his family for what they were. Even LeRoi never understood the extent of their cruelty. Her father didn’t approve of LeRoi, but he had charmed her step-mother. Chantelle had done her best to take LeRoi away, and taunted Sherry with stories of LeRoi’s moves in bed. Her sister had mockingly thanked her for being a prude, since that had allowed her to take care of LeRoi’s “manly needs” during their engagement. LeRoi denied sleeping with Chantelle. But that didn’t matter now. They were both dead.

What she wouldn’t give for a Kleenex. Were there any hankies here? Sherry pushed Stag away to stand up and that’s when she noticed though his kneeling position hid his man bits, he was naked. Of course he was naked, he’d just changed from being a wolf. A shadow of her old revulsion touched her.
Werewolves were not natural
. But a few minutes ago his wolf had laid his head in her lap and let her pet him. He had licked her face. Tami had told her how the wolves at Taye’s den had fought and even died to defend her. Sherry looked down at Stag’s face with hope trembling in her heart. Would he catch her if she leaped?

“Sherry?” Stag asked, standing up and revealing his limp penis. “What do you need?”

Sherry was grateful he wasn’t aroused. “A tissue.” At his blank look, she elaborated. “A handkerchief to blow my nose. All this crying has clogged my nose and given me a rotten headache, too.”

“I’ll make you some tea. That will help. You sit back down.”

Sherry gritted her teeth. For a wolf who wasn’t Alpha, he was damn bossy. “You know, it sure would be nice if you
asked
instead of just telling me.”

He continued to stare for another moment before waving to the chest of drawers by the bed. “There should be some bits of cloth in the top drawer you can use for a handkerchief.”

She found a pile of clean rags and blew her nose. Stag moved around the small kitchen area, dipping a small pot into the big kettle of water and putting it on the stove to begin heating before unwrapping a square of waxed paper filled with shredded bark. The fact that he was stark naked didn’t bother him at all. Sherry appreciated the view. His strong back and round firm ass moved in a smooth symphony of muscle that made her want to pet him. She wondered, though, if his dangly bits weren’t worried about being so close to a hot stove. A tired giggle pushed at the back of her throat.

In a few minutes he came back to her. “Come lie down,” he urged her, nudging her toward the bed. “The tea will take a while to steep. I’ll put some snow in a rag for your head.”

He pulled off her shoes and got her settled in bed before leaving for a minute. He came back soon with a version of a cold compress and laid it on her forehead.

Sherry felt his hand adjust the compress on her forehead and then brush over her cheek. For the first two months in this crazy world she had been afraid of Stag, repelled by the idea that he “claimed” her as if she were a piece of luggage in the airport, but with fewer feelings than the average suitcase. But even then she’d been physically attracted to him. In her dreams, sleeping and waking, she had imagined making love to him. She’d felt compelled to confess those dreams when she met a priest. Now she wasn’t repelled by him. Even his wolf had been cute. Kind of.

She must have dozed. Stag was standing by the bed, still naked, with a faintly steaming cup in his hand. The scent of stew filling the room was mouth watering.

“Here’s the tea,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. With one strong arm he raised her easily to a sitting position. The soggy compress slid off her head and plopped into his lap. His small jerk when the cold hit his private parts didn’t cause the cup to slosh. It was another sign of Stag protecting her, even from hot liquid.

She took the tea and forced it down as quickly as she could. “Ugh,” she shuddered, handing the cup back to him. “That tastes awful!”

“I know. There’s no honey here to sweeten it. I’ll get you s—” He paused. “Would you like me to get you some water?”

That leap of faith was looking slightly less scary. He was trying. “Yes, thank you.”

She accepted the water he brought and sipped it. “You know what my problem is, Stag? I think too much. I over-process every little thing until I’m not sure if I’m coming or going.”

“Because I hide behind it.” The truth hurt, but once started it was easier to continue. “First I decide one thing. Then I think a little more and decide the opposite. Then I go back again. Like the other night? I decided I wanted to kiss you, but then I got scared. The more I thought about it, the more scared I was.” When he made a sudden move, she added, “Not scared of
you
, Stag. Not really. But that’s what made me tell you to give me more time.” She swallowed another sip of water. “I’m a coward.”

He touched her hair. “No, Sherry. You’re not a coward. You’ve had a hard time these last months. The plane crashed, and you were hurt, and your husband died.”

“Maybe. I should have left him the very first time he hit me. I should have left him the very first time he grabbed my arm and shook me. But I thought about it and made excuses for him. He had a bad day at the studio or his CD had fallen out of the top One Hundred. I over-processed it and talked myself into staying. I didn’t let myself leave until he punched me so hard he broke my collarbone.”

“Yes, first I’m coming on to you, then I’m pushing you away.” She reached up to put the empty cup on the top of the chest of drawers. “I’m done with that. I won’t lie; I’m a little nervous about this, so be gentle, okay?”

His mystified expression froze when she put her hands on his warm bare shoulders and dragged them down his pecs and lower. She hesitated at his belly button, all too aware that his nakedness didn’t hide his body’s reaction to her touch. But she didn’t touch his growing penis. She didn’t dare. Her boldness trembled on the verge of collapsing as it was.

It was time for a leap of faith, wearing her big girl panties. She looked into his beautiful eyes. “Stag, the real answer to your question is Yes.” The word came out in a whisper, so she spoke more firmly. “Yes, I’ll be your mate. Be patient with me. I didn’t do a very good job being a wife the first time around, but I’ll try harder with you.”

“You were a good wife, better than that man deserved.” Stag released her wrists to reach a long brown hand to cup her cheek. “I’ll be the best mate I can be. I’ll protect you and take care of you always. I will love you whatever comes, and put you first in everything I can.”

That was nice. “And let me have a little freedom, right?”

“Right,” he agreed. “I’m not the only one of us who will need to be patient. I promise to try to not be a male chauvinist pig, but habits are hard to break.”

She suppressed a spurt of surprise that he even knew what a male chauvinist pig was. Of course, he –and all the other wolves— defined ‘male chauvinist pig’. “Kiss me, Stag,” she whispered.

His hands settled on her shoulders. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said fervently. “I promised Taye I wouldn’t touch you until you invited me to.”

That made her snort out a chuckle. She’d never imagined Taye Wolfe as a chaperone before. It made her like him a little better. “Consider yourself invited, baby.”

“You can go as far as you like now. You can go all the way. You
better
go all the way. I like you being gentle, but you don’t have to be
so
gentle, okay?”

His hands were tentative when they went to the buttons on her flannel shirt. His fingers stilled when they brushed the cool skin of her throat. “I better put more wood on the fire,” he whispered. “I don’t want you to be cold when I take your clothes off.”

Cold? She was feeling hot right now. Her doubts about the wisdom of this faded. She wanted Stag. She’d wanted him for a long time now. She wanted hot, sweaty sex with him, but she also wanted
him
. His love and his protection and his companionship. She wanted the things she’d thought she would have with LeRoi. LeRoi had failed her, but Stag wouldn’t. She was sure that Stag didn’t lie or say things just to make her accept him.

Sherry watched Stag walk over to the fireplace with a little more care than usual, probably because of his bobbing erection. Was it painful for him to be so hard? The sight of his penis, wide and long and so stiff, made her body melt with desire. She hurried to unbutton her shirt and remove it. She lifted the long sleeved undershirt over her head with a smile, remembering she had put it on this morning as extra protection against Stag if he got frisky. Her fingers hesitated for a moment on her bra hooks, but her nipples were chafing against the silk, aching for the touch of his mouth. She tossed the bra away and looked up to find his eyes fastened on her breasts.

“You look hungry,” she murmured. “See something you’d like to nibble on?”

He must have forgotten to walk carefully. In a blink, he was kneeling beside the bed, one arm around her waist. “Yeah, I see something that I’d like to take a bite of.” He stilled. “Are you hungry? The stew’s probably ready now.”

Food? When she had this fine piece of male right here? “Not now. But if you need a snack, here I am.”

When she cupped one breast for him, he bent to her. His mouth grazed her tightly furled nipple. “Your nipples are all crinkled. Are you cold? My nipples crinkle up like that when I’m cold.”

She giggled. “No, I’m
hot
. Hot for you. You haven’t done this before, have you?”

“No.” He petted her hair back from her face. “But I’ve dreamt of it. You tell me what you like and what you don’t like. And if I go too fast like last time tell me, okay? I don’t want you to be scared.”

“Okay.” She hoped she wouldn’t feel that niggling fear of potential violence. “Why don’t we get started by kissing? I like that. And I liked when you were touching my breasts that night in the pantry.”