9
Play Dirty
A fter dropping Sam off at the old Grimes place, I find myself driving down back roads to the old Sawmill. Even with the Pack run just a few days away, the urge to sprint, to rush through the forest, and become one with the darkness between the trees is palpable.
My wolf is restless, and I can't figure out why. We're home, happier than we have been in a very long time. And yet—every day, regardless of the Moon's pull—her claws click against my skull with every step she takes inside my soul. Her fur bristles at my fingertips and ripples over my skin. Control is required to withstand the urge to surrender to your beast.
Mine is rapidly eroding.
The old Sawmill has quickly become a place where I stop and shift, a quick sprint through the trees enough to calm the tension in my bones before going home.
Two steps out of the Stingray, and my shirt hits the dirt. Three steps and my pants are on the ground as well. And then, the change fizzles over my skin, rippling through my soul.
My wolf comes rushing forward, and bone snaps, elongates, and rearranges as I shed my human skin. The excruciating pain lasts mere moments; then it's just me and my wolf. An owl hoots somewhere in the forest, hunting for her dinner just as I hunt for the feeling of freedom.
These paths are familiar to me, known like the back of my paw or the striations on each claw. No tree is unfamiliar to me here, no stone I haven't tread upon. Tearing through the forest, my wolf and I leap over fallen logs and track the scents of my Pack, finding hotspots where multiple wolves gather, run, and hunt. Eventually, we perch on overhanging rocks to survey the tree line.
Without snow cover, you can see the fallen leaves gilding the forest floor in a carpet of bronze. Barren deciduous branches reach to the sky, offering empty palms to the moon, while the evergreens still have limbs lush with needles. The night is cold enough that frost rings the trees, coating ferns and small plants in ice. My breath creates little puffs of steam in the air.
In the hushed quiet, it feels almost like the entire world is sleeping. Already tuckered down, hibernating until spring.
So why do I feel so restless?
Leaping from the overhang, my wolf and I chase the glittering moonlight across the frost, running miles and miles through the forests of Timber Hollow. We don't hunt anything, just run the remaining night away.
Eventually, the frost rips into my paws, and I leave bloody prints across the sleeping forest.
In the early hours of the morning, I return to the Cabin with only my t-shirt on because I exhausted myself on the run. I still have a few hours to sleep, which is nice, but I need to get out of the habit of running my sleep away.
I park in the garage between Jay's pretty blue GTR, and Saint's burnt orange Jeep, Dante's bike is in the stall next to Jay. Heated concrete greets my bare feet as I bustle through the garage, dropping my pile of clothing next to the laundry room as I pass. I'll toss it in before I leave again.
Freezing at the stairway, I come face to face with Jay, descending the stairs with a slight smirk on his mouth. He's dressed in jeans, a black tee under his favorite red flannel, and a hat turned backward on his head. "Feeling more wolfy than human today?" He asks, blue-green eyes lingering on my bare legs.
"I suppose," Despite the cool answer, he is right.
"Don't go far without someone. Magnus called; there are hunters in the area," Jay states. It's an order, but he says it softly enough that I don't bristle at the command.
It doesn't stop me from replying, "There are always hunters in the woods, Jay," though, rolling my eyes at him.
"Not ones with an eye for wolves," Jay counters, voice hard, making me stand up a little straighter.
"How does Magnus know they're looking for wolves?"
He shrugs. "I don't know. That's why I'm going over to the Packhouse. He wouldn't say anything else on the phone," Jay rubs the back of his neck like he has more to say but doesn't know where to begin.
"I have to work later, so I won't go out again," I offer, wrapping my arms around Jay's middle, feeling the muscles on his back flex as his thick arms envelop me, crushing me to his chest in the best way. He always gives the best hugs. Supreme, even .
"Thank you," Jay murmurs in my hair, breathing deeply. A moment or five passes, and he says, "I love how your skin smells after a run."
There's a needy thrum to his voice now, one I do not possess the willpower to resist.
"Yeah?" I breathe, tilting my neck back to look at him.
"Yeah," He agrees, cock pulsing under his jeans, the flash of his wolf rising in the blue-green iris.
"Too bad you have to leave, " I murmur, kissing the column of his throat, the line of x's that decorate the line of a vein… Or maybe it's an artery? Either way, I want to decorate his skin with my teeth.
"Oh, I'll always make time for you, Gorgeous," Jay corrects, hands spanning my ribcage in a way that makes my heart race.
"Well, come on then," I say, pulling him up the stairs. But, instead of following me, Jay's fingers slip through mine, and he stays at the foot of the staircase. I look back at him with a furrowed brow, seeing that wolfish flash in his eye again.
"Wherever I catch you, I fuck you?" Jay says, a question and a demand. I know if I say no, that'll be the end of it. I always know that with Jay. So, it's not trepidation that makes me hesitate. It's the way his eyes greedily drink down the lengths of my bare legs, cataloging my skin.
It's the way I see his pulse jump in his throat when I part my legs, giving him a glimpse of the patch of lace barely covering me. Then, I smirk. "Deal."
Without a glance back or another moment passing, I bolt through the upper level of the house, turning through corners and swiftly arriving at the other staircase, Jay hot on my heels. I surprise us both when I leap over the railing at the square platform where the stairs turn ninety degrees, landing with a loud thump on the hardwood.
Jay laughs but does not leap over the railing, which gives me another few seconds' lead, and I make good use of it. As quick as I can, I dash away, bounding over couches and sprinting around corners with a laugh.
This is nothing like what we do as wolves, not really, but I can't deny how wet this little game has made me, how damp my panties feel between my thighs. I lead Jay back up the stairs with a giggle slipping free from my lips.
"Hey, Tiny," Saint greets as he emerges from his room, stark naked, and I nearly miss the top step, catching myself on all fours.
"Hey, Cinnamon," I reply lightly, secretly wishing I had the time to properly ogle him, more than the full frontal I'd gotten twice now. Saint is more of a redhead below the belt than a blonde, just like the light five o'clock shadow dusting his jaw in an almost red stubble. And the tattoo that dances around his hips and lower is tantalizing. Fuck.
"Everything okay?" He hollers after me, a curious smirk on his lips.
"Wherever I catch her, I fuck her," Jay answers for me as he barrels past Saint, still lingering in the doorway to his room.
I laugh, looking back at them for a split second, seeing Jay remove his shirts and toss them to the floor. Coming to a halt at the end of the hallway, my spine pressed against the wall, I watch Jay's stalking approach. I plan to fake him out in one direction, then sprint past him to our room.
"The question stands! Everything okay, Tiny?" Saint repeats himself, eyeing me over Jay's muscled shoulders.
"I'm having a blast, Cinnamon."
"Cinnamon?" Saint questions, and I feel my cheeks flaming, giving him a very demure head nod.
"Yep."
Jay recaptures my focus; his blue-green eyes watch me with predatory focus as he approaches. Saint still lingers in the hall behind him, naked as the day he was born. He's a fucking distraction, and by the smirk lingering on Jay's face, that was planned.
Rat bastard.
"Still think you can catch me?" I ask, lungs heaving.
"It depends on how distracted you let yourself get," Jay answers without missing a beat. Slowly, he undoes his belt and slides it free of his jeans with practiced ease.
I think, scientifically , someone should study the way I swear to all the fake fucking gods , my pussy pounds out his name in morse code.
Jay pulse pulse pulse- motherfucking - pulse, throb throb, – temple - throb throb, pulse pulse.
"If you're playing dirty, baby, I'm playing dirty." I croon, ripping my shirt over my head without hesitation. Now, I'm only wearing the black lace panties he'd picked out and slid slowly up my thighs for me before I went to work last night.
Saint laughs behind Jay, clapping slowly. "I need some fucking popcorn, dude." It's hard to miss how Saint's lids are half-lowered over darkened green eyes.
Jay groans, unzipping his jeans and pushing them down his tree-trunk legs. "I like it when you play dirty."
I tisk, "Promise?"
"Anything you want."
"Yeah?" The breathy question comes out easily.
"I'll swear any oath you want from me, Gorgeous."
"Those are dangerous words, Handsome." My heart pounds for entirely different reasons when Jay starts talking like that.
"Nah." Jay immediately refutes, still stalking towards me.
"Catch me," I order, jerking towards the left, and Jay follows just like I knew he would. Without losing stride, I dash off the other way, careening around him and Saint with manic laughter trailing behind me. I sprint down the stairs and through the house in a loop once more. Jay almost catches me at the base of the stairs and again downstairs when I laugh so hard that I trip.
With Saint lingering in the hall, I can't resist leading Jay around the house in another loop, tossing my underwear at him when we cross into the living room again. Jay catches the scrap of black lace in his hand, stuffing it in the waistband of his boxers. The tiny button strains against his growing erection.
I can't wait anymore. Bounding up the stairs, I lead Jay towards our room and the hall, where Saint is still watching the chase. I still have a little lead on Jay, so I slow my careening sprint to more of a light jog. If only to ensure I didn't look insane in front of Jay's very hot friend.
"Bravo, Tiny. Bravo. " Saint cheers as I pass, swatting my ass with quick precision, making me squawk. Then he walks down the hall to the stairs, chuckling to himself. "Who knew living with you two would be so entertaining?"
And then, Jay catches me just inside the doorframe, pinning me to the wall with his hips against mine, a hand around my throat. In seconds, his mouth is on mine, and I'm pulling his boxers down his hips, letting him lift me. Instead of fucking me where he caught me, he takes a few steps over to the bed, dropping me to the mattress.
"You're so fucking perfect," Jay murmurs, kissing down my body to kneel between my legs.