Page 22 of Wishing for a Werewolf (Ferndale Falls Forever #2)

Autumn

Rune’s huge body collapses onto me with delicious weight as we lay still for several moments, each trying to catch our breath. He recovers first and thankfully rolls to the side right before it can become painful.

He brings me with him, his erection still firm between my thighs. In fact… is it too firm for a guy who just came? Something sure feels different. I reach down, my fingers brushing over the base of his cock, which is swollen to the size of a tennis-ball.

“What is that?” I lift my top leg to get a better look.

“It’s my knot.”

“Effing hell, it’s huge!” Yep, that’s sexy, sexy me, making eyes as big as a cartoon character’s. “How long does it last?”

“The stories say around twelve hours if I were inside of you. Like this, I’m unsure.”

“Stories? Don’t you know?” He did say he wasn’t a virgin-virgin, just a human-virgin.

“My knot has never formed for anyone else, my fire.”

I want to ask what it means. Is it just a sex thing, or could it be something more? But that’s a pretty heavy conversation for a first date. So I lie down, using his upper arm as a pillow, my fingers playing with the hair on his chest, springy and crisp against my skin.

He rolls onto his back, and I wince as he pulls me with him. “I vote we make it to the bed next time.”

He jolts upright, scowling as he pulls me onto his lap. His golden gaze scours my body, his hands searching for injuries. “I hurt you?”

“No, not like that.” I cup his cheek and get him to meet my eyes. “It turns out the hardwood floor is, well, hard.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“I am.”

He gives me a knowing look. “You said ‘next time.’”

“You heard that, huh?” I grin. “Damned fae hearing.”

“It’s very good.” He touches the tip of his ear, a wicked smirk curling the corners of his mouth. “I especially like hearing you scream my name.”

“Yeah, you’d scream too if all you’d had for the past few years were BOOs.” My cheeks heat the moment the words leave my mouth. I can’t believe I just told him about my vibrator! Some guys get weird about those.

“BOOs? The little shapes of draped white cloth people have started decorating with?”

I muffle a laugh. We saw a ton of Halloween decorations while shopping, but they’re so not Mr. Good Vibes. “Those are ghosts, who do say boo, but I’m talking about BOOs, battery-operated orgasms.” At his puzzled frown, I add, “My vibrator.” Or vibrators plural, but we don’t need to go there.

“I still don’t know what that is.”

“Well, uh… where’d I put my purse?”

One long arm reaches out and snags it from the couch. I dig inside and pull out the small bullet vibrator I keep in case of emergencies, Mr. Buzzy. After handing it to Rune, I show him how to turn it on. It springs to life in his hand, buzzing with a solid hum.

His eyes narrow as he studies it, and my stomach drops.

How is he going to react? I suddenly feel even more vulnerable having admitted I use sex toys—it’s private info I usually only mention to my besties, and even then it’s more of a vague joke.

Post-orgasmic Autumn is clearly an overly chatty Autumn.

Rune runs the vibrator across his opposite palm, then smiles at me, hot and wicked. “Human technology is a marvel. I want to learn more. I’ll use this on you.”

My mouth drops open even as my thighs clench. He wants to play with sex toys? He really is perfect. I match his grin. “Then your new mission, should you choose to accept it, is Mission Make Autumn Scream with Pleasure.”

“I accept.” He comes off the floor with me in his arms as if I weigh nothing and carries me to his bedroom.

The next morning, bright light pulls me from sleep, and I moan a quiet “No” as I burrow into the warm covers and start to pull a pillow over my head.

Wait. What?

My bedroom has blackout curtains. My eyes snap open. Hoo, boy. This is so not my room. The blue blanket sparks a hint of familiarity, cutting through the haze of sleep. It’s the blanket I picked out for Rune. I’m in his bedroom.

Yesterday replays in my mind in a glow of contented joy.

The way we spent the whole day together, shopping.

The fun of his constant amazement over all the things humans have and his occasionally hilarious confusion, like when he almost decapitated the skeleton decoration that jumped out at us on an automated spring.

It was so rewarding to make his house more of a home, to show him how to enjoy living in it.

The way he cooked me dinner, each movement achingly precise, his attention completely focused on doing everything perfectly so we’d have good food.

The blindingly hot sex, where he used that intense focus on me and my pleasure.

Then the even more blindingly hot sex, using Mr. Buzzy and his mouth to make me come again and again.

And finally, he made me ride his cock with the vibrator pressed tight to my clit until he wrung a yet another orgasm from me.

He surprised me once again with cuddles.

Who knew a big guy like him would love to snuggle?

But he seems to like it even more than I do, holding me close and keeping lots of skin-on-skin contact.

We finished up the night with one last treat when I introduced him to ice cream, which we ate curled up naked in bed.

It was the best day I’ve had in years, and my best date ever. Let alone the sex—hoo, boy, the sex was better than I ever knew it could be.

“Dear god,” I whisper. “The man has effing ruined me for anyone else.”

“What does that mean?” Rune’s deep voice rumbles.

I roll over to find him lounging in a chair, wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants and sketching on a small pad.

Deflect, Autumn! It’s way too soon to get serious.

I sit upright, clutching the covers to my chest, my body aching in unfamiliar and wonderful ways from last night’s activities. “What are you drawing?”

He turns the notebook around to show the most amazing portrait of me. I’m asleep, my face more peaceful than I ever see in the mirror. I’ve got one hand flung outward in unselfconscious abandon, and my hair flares across the pillow like a corona.

I look beautiful. Even my freckles look great, the shaded dots dusting my nose and cheeks like cinnamon sprinkled across foam.

Mmm. I want coffee.

And him.

“Come back to bed.” I reach toward him and make gimme hands. Then I lift the covers so he can slide in beside me, and I snuggle up to his warmth, so yummy in the morning cool of the room. “How was your first night sleeping in a bed?”

“My favorite parts had no sleeping.” There’s that wicked grin again. God, who would ever expect Mr. Grumpy Pants to have that panty-melting smile in his arsenal?

“You know what I meant.” I poke his arm. “Did you like it?” I hold my breath, the question more important than I hope he realizes. Before I fall even more for him, there are big things to figure out. Does he want to live like a man? Can he truly be happy here in Ferndale Falls?

Can he be happy with little-ol’-human me?

“I loved it.” He pats the mattress. “This is so much more comfortable than anything I’m used to. I didn’t think I’d like the feel of blankets on top of me, but I was wrong. They were…” He searches for the word.

“Snuggly?” I offer.

He nods and pulls me closer. “Snuggly.”

Taking the sketchpad from him, I stare at the drawing. “It’s even more beautiful up close.”

Then I try to turn to the previous page.

Rune makes an attempt to take the pad back, but my stubbornness kicks in, and I don’t let go. “Please?”

He gives a sharp nod and says a grumpy, “All right.”

I flip to the start and watch as his talent grows by leaps and bounds with each drawing.

There are several things from nature: various types of trees, a chipmunk, a deer.

Then he starts sketching people, capturing a pixie, arms raised overhead, mouth open on a shout; a gnome mid-somersault; Luke scowling, his arms folded across his chest as he leans against a wall. “These are amazing.”

The next pages are covered with wolves: drawings of huge bodies slipping through a forest, on the hunt; a lone wolf drinking from a stream; a pair of pups wrestling with each other; an adult wolf curled around those same pups, watching them as they sleep.

“That’s my twin sister with my niece and nephew.” A faint smile touches his lips, his voice tinged with longing. “They arrive on Monday.”

“You miss them.”

“I do.” His fingers brush over the paper with a gentle touch. “They’re my family.”

A human guy might try to hide such feelings, worried they’re not “manly” enough.

But not Rune. He wears his love for them with pride, and it’s so beautiful and true it makes my heart ache in the very best of ways.

I think of everything he told me last night, of how he came to Earth in order to make a place where they can learn to shift.

That gruff, grumpy exterior of his hides the biggest heart I’ve ever known.

When I try to turn another page, Rune’s body tenses against mine.

The next drawing is of me, a quick impression of me laughing.

The one after has me standing with hands on hips, looking determined.

In the next, I wear a wistful expression, staring at something in the distance.

Page after page of drawings, and all of them are of me.

“When did you start doing these?” I ask.

“Last Sunday.”

“So after we met at the Wishing Well.” I meet his eyes.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I like drawing you.” His fingers play with a lock of my hair. “At first it was your hair, the color unlike anything the cu sith have. Then it was the fire of your soul.” He touches my chest over my heart.

I suck in a breath.

“I see how determined you are about the things you believe in, how you’ll do anything for your friends and family.” He tugs me closer until his next words whisper over my lips. “These are things I greatly admire. They pull me to you, my fire.”

Oh! My lips tremble. I’m not much of a crier, but his words are so sweet! They hint at the possibility of so much more than I was expecting to hear after only one night together.

Rune gives me a kiss and climbs out of bed. “Come. I will practice making breakfast.” He holds out his hand, and I grip it tightly, letting him pull me out of bed and into his arms, my heart skipping with glee.

I feel like I’m dancing on clouds as I work all day. Even though it’s Sunday, someone always has to milk the goats and check on them. We have a little more leeway with the soap-making side of the business, so Mom and I pitch in and help with the animals whenever Steve has a day off.

The sun drops toward the trees in the west by the time I take one last walk through the south pasture before heading home. A crisp breeze carries the scent of fallen leaves and pine from the nearby forest, mixed with the muskier scent of goats.

Cheddar trots over, nuzzling against me with her butterscotch-brown head, part affection, part trying to smell if I’ve got treats in my pockets.

Babybelle spots me and races across the field, Mozzarella giving chase, the solid-white kid bouncing as high as my familiar.

“Did you have fun?” I lean over to scratch around Babybelle’s ears. As much as I love her, I don’t try to keep her with me 24/7. Goats need lots of space to run and play, and as herd animals, they also need the company of other goats.

“I did!” She bounces on her front hooves. “Though Mozzarella’s already getting bigger than me.”

“She’ll be as big as her mom by next year.” I point to Gouda.

“Then who will I play with?”

It’s a good question. Part of downsizing the farm when we changed over to soap means keeping a smaller herd. We breed the goats to keep them producing milk, but we can’t expand constantly.

I pick Babybelle up and cuddle her to me as I head for my cottage. “Do you want me to get another pygmy goat to be your friend?”

“Will they be able to talk to me like we do?”

“No, sweetie. They’ll be a normal goat like Mozzarella, only they’ll stay around your size.”

“I want a friend like me who can talk!” Her ears droop.

“That’s asking a lot.” I give her a soft smile. “Only one animal in the whole wide world is special enough to be my familiar, and that’s you.”

“Me! Me! Me!” Her ears perk up. “I’m special!”

“You sure are.” I kiss her soft forehead.

“Will it be a girlfriend goat or a boyfriend goat?”

“Huh. I hadn’t thought about it. You’ve got some growing to do before we start thinking about boyfriends.” At least another year, possibly two. “But is that something you might want? To have babies?”

“I don’t know! Will they play with me?”

“If they’re your babies, I’m sure they will. They’ll also want all of your treats. You’ll have to share.”

“No babies!” She sticks her legs straight out in protest.

I laugh. Greedy little thing. But it’s the perfect answer for her. One of the reasons I picked her is because she’s even smaller than most pygmy goats, and her owner had marked her as unsuitable for breeding.

Inside the cottage, I give her one of the edible blueberry dental chew treats I bought for her.

They’re made for dogs, but the ingredients are fine for goats.

“Let me know when you finish one, and I’ll give you another.

But don’t eat it just to eat it. This isn’t food—it’s to give you something to chew. ”

Instead of agreeing, she snatches it from me and scampers into the living room.

Why do I have the feeling we’re going to go through the first few of them quickly, no matter what I say? Chuckling, I shake my head, wash my hands, and start soaking cereal in milk for tonight’s cocktails.

A Witch Bitch Spicy Book Club meeting is exactly what I need. With my whole coven working on the problem, I know we’ll solve it.

Once Operation Wish Swap is a success, Rune and I can start dating for real.