Page 33 of Wishing for a Werewolf (Ferndale Falls Forever #2)

Autumn

I hum as I finish making another batch of peppermint soap, daydreaming of Rune and how amazingly hot the primal chase was.

He promised he’d chase me again whenever I run, and that thought alone sets my body alight.

Note to self: run from Rune, on the regular.

I haven’t been able to think of anything else since it occurred several days ago. For once, I’m in full agreement with horny Autumn. When he’s fae, his cock’s far larger than any other man I’ve ever been with.

But when he’s a werewolf… My thighs clench. The full length of his werewolf cock and the swollen knot at the base had been so amazingly large I hadn’t been able to move, had barely been able to breathe. Dear god, the thing is effing epic.

Logic tries to remind me I need to stay away until I can be sure his feelings are real, but my body craves him.

“Ruined.” I slide a new mold into place and tip hot soap melt into it. “Utterly and completely ruined.”

A deep voice calls my name from outside—Rune! I finish the pour and hurry to the barn door.

Rune stands with his sister and four other people who all share the same tall, muscular build.

Shock ripples through me “What is this?”

“I told you my pack would help,” Rune says. “So I had more people come from Faerie. Put us to work.”

I grin and do exactly that. And shit, if watching Rune work miracles with heavy hay bales was something, watching six shifters move them around like they weigh nothing is unreal.

Rune climbs the hay bales stacked in the soap barn, not even bothering to use a ladder.

Then he stands on top and tosses bales down to the other shifters, one after the next.

Each werewolf runs their bales out to the empty northern pasture and returns, ready to catch their next load.

Once the stack is only six-feet high, Rune jumps down, grabs two bales, and runs them into the field.

I stand there gaping at him, watching the play of thick muscle straining against the fabric of his shirt, the cords of his forearms flexing like every one of my forearm-porn dreams come to life.

My thighs clench. He’s so… virile. God, I never understood that word until now, but it’s perfect for him.

He’s strength and power in motion, his big body making mine tighten, the burn low in my stomach building with each move he makes.

Even Mom takes a break from cutting soap to stare. Instead of worry, there’s a hint of a smile on her face for a change, as if seeing me have real help makes my dreams finally feel obtainable.

In less than ten minutes, Rune scoops the final two bales off the floor and turns to catch me ogling his muscular ass.

I can’t even blame horny Autumn, because all of me wants him. Even worrying about what the spell might be making him feel doesn’t damper my attraction.

“So.” He gestures with the bales. “I assume we’re doing more than just piling these in the field?”

“What? Oh, yes.” I snap out of my daze and gather up my blueprints for the hay maze.

We move out into the bright light of morning, the brilliant blue sky setting off the orange blaze of the trees at the edge of the pasture.

The werepuppies chase each other on the edge of the field, turning into a tumbling ball of flailing limbs whenever one of them pounces. They dash over. “Autumn! Where’s Babybelle? We want to play!”

“She’s visiting with the other goats. But I can get her in a bit.”

“Okay!” “Yes!” They dart back over to their play spot and immediately start to wrestle again.

“The hay maze should go in this general area.” I wave my hand to take in the flattest part of the field, which is near the gate to the barnyard.

After spreading the blueprints out on the ground, I plant the first marker stake and have Rune stand beside it, holding one end of a tape measure.

Then I walk, pacing out one of the outer sides of the maze and marking its other end.

Once it’s done, the other werewolves lay the foundational layer of hay bales along the path we marked.

We continue like this until the entire maze spreads across the ground, only one bale high, which lets us catch small problems early. I trot through the maze one last time to check, then let the other werewolves start building the walls higher.

“We need to get the rest of the hay from the milking barn.” I point to where it’s a dark smudge on the other side of the farm.

“That’s a long way to run.” Rune frowns.

I lift an eyebrow. “Are you saying you’re not up for it?”

“I can run all day.” He steps closer, his voice dropping to a deep growl. “Would you like me to prove it?”

Anticipation shivers across my skin at the promise in his voice, making the little hairs on my body stand straight up.

“Nope, I believe you,” I say, my voice breathless.

I clear my throat and try to sound more normal.

“I was just teasing. There’s a small trailer the tractor can pull. We can do it in two trips.”

“Let’s go.”

I take off at a slow jog, having worn sneakers for the day’s work, and Rune lopes easily along by my side, clearly holding back.

Then he lets me pull ahead. The sound of his footfalls behind me, the knowledge that he’s back there, running after me, giving chase…

Electricity shoots through my body, my heart racing. I start running faster, and I can hear him pick up his pace to match. Oh, god. All I can think of is our chase. I shiver with need. This shouldn’t feel so sexy, should it?

Eff that kind of talk, horny Autumn purrs in my mind. Sexy is whatever you find sexy, and if you like a bit of primal chase, there’s nothing wrong with that.

My cheeks heat as I remember the other night: Rune chasing me through the woods, his large body wrapped around mine from behind as he—

The gate to the south pasture brings my legs and my whirling thoughts to an abrupt halt. I fumble with the goat-proof latch, same as I always do when I’m flustered.

Rune steps close, his huge hand wrapping over mine to work the latch.

He’s not touching me anywhere else, but I can feel his presence all down my back.

He growls my name, his voice full of longing, and for a hot second I don’t care if this is all a spell or if anyone sees us.

I don’t care about anything but the need to move backward, grind my butt against him, and feel him harden with an answering desire.

“I’m here!” Babybelle races over in a series of bounding hops, Mozzarella following her. “Me! Me! Me!”

“Hi there, sweetie!” I lean over to give her some pets, grateful for the distraction, so one of my parents doesn’t find me humping Rune’s leg. “Do you want to come and play with Astrid and Agnar?”

“Yes!”

More of the goats trot over. Cheddar, always the bravest of the girls, nuzzles against Rune’s pockets, looking for treats.

“That’s Cheddar and Gouda and Edam.” I point out each goat as we walk past them. “And Brie and Havarti. And the little white ball of floof is Mozzarella.”

Rune laughs, the sound rich and wonderful and something he definitely needs to do more. “They’re all named after cheese. Who did this?”

“Guilty.” I hold up a hand. “I started doing it when I was little, and it’s become something of a farm tradition by now. No regrets.”

“You really love cheese.” His lips twitch.

“Always have. Always will.”

“Don’t forget me! I’m named for cheese, too!” Babybelle skips along at his side. “Tell him.”

“And Babybelle wants you to know she’s also named for cheese.” I hold my fingers a couple of inches apart. “She’s the cutest little cheese.”

“That’s me!”

We reach the milking barn, and in no time at all, Rune’s loaded half the hay bales onto the trailer, and I drive them back toward the hay maze. He runs beside the tractor carrying Babybelle, and when we reach the others, she goes racing off to play with the werepuppies.

I stare after them, a bit worried. Not that anyone will be intentionally mean, but the fae pups are so much stronger than my familiar.

Riselda sees me looking and says, “Don’t worry. Everyone will keep an eye out. We’re pack.”

“Thanks.”

By the time we come back with the last of the hay, the other werewolves have finished setting up all the bales they had, and the hay maze is a good five feet high and looking great. With Rune pitching in, the last of the bales get added to the tops of the walls, bringing them to seven feet.

Rune and I walk the maze, and my heart races with excitement as I purposefully pretend I don’t know the solution and head down one wrong path after another. I turn a corner and stop short at one of the dead ends. “I’m going to put up funny signs at each of these.”

He grunts from directly behind me, close behind me, and every nerve in my body lights up in awareness of him.

I spin to find him blocking the way, trapping me in the small cul-de-sac. The other werewolves are only a few yards away on the other side of the bales, but the maze makes it feel like there’s no one here but the two of us.

He steps even closer, his wide shoulders blocking out the rest of the world, his eyes flashing gold as he stares at my mouth.

“Rune,” I whisper. “Your family’s here.”

“And yet, my fire—” He frees my hair from its messy bun and coils a lock around his fingers. “—all I can think of is you and the burning pleasure of your mouth.” His hand tangles in my hair, finding the back of my neck and pulling me to him.

No kissing. Kissing is bad. I’m keeping my distance until Operation Wish Swap is a success!

Shut the eff up, horny Autumn hisses. And she must take over, because my palms glide up his chest. This can’t be the real me, right?

Only I’m straining upward, pulled by his grip on my neck and my own answering need.

The first gentle brush of his lips sends electricity racing through me, and I gasp.

Rune’s answering moan sounds of pure hunger. His arms wrap around me, lifting and crushing me to him as he nips at my lips, demanding entrance.

I—

“Uncle Rune!” “Uncle Rune, where are you?” Astrid and Agnar’s voices jolt us apart.

“I’m here!” he calls out. Then he brushes his hand over my hair and drops his voice to a low growl. “Until next time, my fire.”

Rune waves for me to lead the way out of the maze, and my body prickles, feeling him right behind me the entire time.

Dear god, how am I going to survive spending the entire weekend with him?