Death's Servant(5)

Something doesn’t add up. Waitressing might be hard work and a lot of hours on your feet, but a healthy werewolf who eats like she just did shouldn’t be waif-like thin. Maybe she has a second job. Trying to make ends meet on tips can’t be easy. Especially without a pack for support or a werewolf roomie to share the rent.
I want to ask how she’s doing financially, curious if she does indeed have a second job and why, but something holds me back. We don’t know each other well enough for me to start prying, and asking might scare her off. If I want to start over here in Virginia, I’ll need to slowly bring wolves to me, and that won’t happen if I come on too strong.
Slowly bring wolves to me? Where the hell are these thoughts coming from? That sounds a lot like alpha tendencies rearing an ugly head. Am I ready for my own pack? After Manitoba, I sure as hell don’t want to join another one. Could I become a true alpha and protect others of my kind?
The memories of Romeo—breaking up fights, mentoring others unhappy with their dual nature, and financially supporting ones who needed it—flare bright across my mind. We may have clashed, but he took good care of his wolves.
No, I’m not ready for another pack, even one of my own. Maybe that will change in the coming months, who knows.
After a moment, Raine’s tinge of sadness disappears and a slow seductive smile crosses her face. The sexual pheromones I’ve suppressed all week seep out little by little. There’s no denying that even sad, she’s delectable to my raging libido. Raine’s bare foot rubs my calf toward my knee. Instantly, the room narrows to the beguiling young woman and her seductive smile. Her arousal taints the air, calling me to act.
I reach across the distance between us and pull her slim fingers to my lips. “I could just eat you up.”
Her brows rise. “Really, now?” A saucy superiority burns from her eyes. “You sound suspiciously like the Big Bad Wolf hitting on Red Riding Hood.”
A sharp bark of laughter erupts from me, breaking the tension. I really suck at flirting. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Resigned to the fact we may not have any fun tonight if based on my flirting skills, and her wandering foot could be her way of teasing, I rise from the table and offer my hand. “Want to go out for a night cap or should you take me back to my jeep at the diner?”
“I know of a nice bar in downtown Leesburg.” She winks and takes my hand. “It’s not far.”
Hope stirs in my heart as we exit the restaurant. Maybe things are picking up.


An hour later in a dimly lit bar, there’s no way I’m mistaking Raine’s intentions. She’s been stroking my growing erection through my jeans for the last ten minutes. Randy bitch—and I say that with the utmost respect for the fascinating werewolf—just nibbled on my ear and told me to kiss her.
I stare into her midnight blue depths and whisper, “Not here.” I brush my lips faintly over hers, promising more to come in private. I’ve never been one for public displays of affection and I don’t want our first kiss to be surrounded by strangers.
She nods and stands, adjusting her dress as she rises. The shift of fabric releases her aroused scent into the air. A hard fist of want punches me in the gut, requiring me to use all the restraint I possess to not dart out the doors toward the parking lot, dragging the tempting woman with me.
The steady sexual partners available in a large wolf pack are both a curse and a blessing. On one hand, having an increased libido and a host of willing single partners is great. On the other, trying to establish any kind of true intimacy or a real relationship is next to impossible.
Maybe that’s why many Weres find their life mates outside their pack. Summer hunting expeditions, the rare regional pack gatherings I’ve heard tales of, or dating humans seem to be the best way to find a lifelong mate. No one ever mentioned the idea of two loners, like me and Raine, hooking up—but it certainly seems possible now that I’m living it.
The late May night wraps its moist hold around us as we exit the bar and make our way to Riane’s car. Short pants of breath reach my ears in the dark, indicating she’s as turned on as I am at the prospect of being together. Her warm hand links with mine as hot coils of anticipation writhe in my gut.
Raine tugs our clasped hands, changing our direction from her car door to the nose of her vehicle, where the shadows from the building lie deep. She presses my back against the wood siding, leaning in to kiss me. Our raging desires, carefully held in check inside the bar, explode. Her hot mouth latches onto mine as her soft body molds to my front.