Werewolf Me Read online

  Werewolf Me

  Amarinda Jones

  Truro Simpson is confused. What the hell is going on in the sleepy town of Ludlum? One moment her life is quiet and boring and the next she’s having orgasmic sex with a hot, tattooed stranger and odd people are turning up talking about werewolves and soul mates. Do the wolves of Ludlum have something to do with that? And does any of it really matter when she is having the best sex of her life?

  Every fifty years, a clan of wolves seeks new mates. Murphy Green is a werewolf. He is in Ludlum for Truro, his soul mate. The problem is the lady doesn’t believe it. That’s okay. His plan is to seduce her with sweet words and hard cock until she’s as breathless with need and as hungry to touch and taste as he is.

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Werewolf Me

  ISBN 9781419925641

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Werewolf Me Copyright 2010 Amarinda Jones

  Edited by Helen Woodall

  Cover art by Syneca

  Electronic book publication April 2010

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  WEREWOLF ME

  Amarinda Jones

  Dedication

  Dedicated to readers, dreamers, lovers and screamers.

  And as always, to my long-suffering editor, Helen Woodall. There are not enough chocolate frogs to thank you with.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following word marks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Hopalong: U. S. Television Office

  Lara Croft: Core Design Limited

  Secret Squirrel: Hanna-Barbera Productions

  The Simpsons: Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation Amarinda Jones

  Chapter One

  “What are you doing?”

  Truro Simpson’s mouth slid off the man’s cock with a loud, wet pop. “If you have to ask then I’m not doing it right.” And to be honest Truro wasn’t sure she was. This was the first time she had ever taken a penis into her mouth. She was making it up as she went along. It wasn’t quite the lollipop experience she’d imagined but it wasn’t bad either. In fact it was quite exciting having a man’s attention focused solely on her.

  His hand cupped her chin and lifted her head. “Oh you are—but why?” His eyes locked with hers.

  Well, that’s not the answer I was expecting, though the subtle Irish lilt to his voice is so damn sexy. But then there was something about this tawny-haired man that had caught Truro’s attention the minute their eyes had connected at the local diner. She had felt compelled to look at him and when he had smiled at her, Truro had almost forgotten to breathe. She could say that was the reason she had accompanied him to the quiet motel on the edge of Ludlum. Or she could have said it was all to do with that New Age stuff about feeling an instant connection and that she was pulled toward someone without a chance to think. But, in reality, it was probably more that Truro was needy and just wanted to touch a man to get back some of the sensual power she was missing in her life. Maybe a feminist might have called that ridiculous but Truro didn’t care a great deal about what others thought about her. What she did care about and like was the sensual feel of a hard-bodied male under her fingertips. She’d missed that. Okay, so I’m basically alone and horny and I want to play with a man. What’s the harm in that?

  “I want to see you lose control.” Truro liked the power of making a man come. Of course there was more to it than that but there was no way she was going to tell all her needy secrets to a stranger. The fact that he was unknown was perfect. Truro had something to prove and if she failed with him then it didn’t matter. It’s not like I’ll ever see him again.

  “Why?”

  What was this? Twenty questions? She had her mouth poised over his cock. A lot of men wouldn’t be thinking with their brain about now. “Because.” It was her standard noncommittal answer to everything. Luckily few people challenged her, so few delved deeper.

  He pushed back on her shoulders. “Wait a second.”

  “Are you serious?” Sudden feelings of inadequacy and the nasty words of her last lover flashed into her mind. Am I that unattractive? Is he repulsed? The pain Truro hid deep within started to leech into her veins making her doubt herself once more. What the hell am I doing? Like this guy would ever want me. Get up off your knees and get out. You’re a failure.

  “This is a mutual thing, petal.’” His voice was as gentle as his hands resting on her shoulders.

  Petal? Not in this lifetime. There was nothing flower-like about Truro and sweet words were too hard to rely on. “No, it’s about me giving you pleasure. Isn’t that what you want?” Truro had only just met him. She had no idea what he wanted other than quick sex. That he was a stranger was the reason she had taken a chance on him. He was an experiment for her. Turn him on and feel better about herself. She didn’t want to know his name or who he was. Truro just wanted to feel something other than ugly. Maybe Freud would have had some psychological reason why that wasn’t sound but Freud wasn’t living in her skin.

  The tawny-haired man pulled her up to sit beside him on the bed. “What do you want?”

  Truro almost said “you” but she stopped herself. He was naked, hot and most definitely lickable, especially the tattoo of a wolf’s head on his chest. It just begged her tongue to lean forward and taste it. It was sexy, wild and yet noble. The eyes of the wolf, like the man, searched for answers. He was every woman’s fantasy. Tall, muscular and strangely sweet. Truro hadn’t expected that. What she had been contemplating was sliding on down over his thick cock to feel a rush of heat and an instant orgasmic high. But orgasms couldn’t be relied upon. They happened so fast that they often clouded what was really happening between two people. When the haze of the moment disappeared often the reality was too hard to deal with.

  “I, um—” I want to feel something other than ugly and stupid. Yeah, like I could say that. He would think I’m nuts. Maybe I am. She licked her lips and crossed her arms over her scantily covered breasts. Only a thin mauve slip covered her nakedness. “Well, if you’re not interested—”

  “Oh, but I am—even more so now. What’s going on in there?” His fingers touched the bare skin of her chest. They slid slowly under the lace of her slip.

  Truro shivered and swallowed hard as she tried to control the trembling his touch evoked. Oh crap, not only am I shaking, I’m going to cry too. I do not want to cry. I refuse to. She had worked too hard at keeping it all inside. Truro could not let one man get to her like this. “Oh, the usual thing. Blood pumping and arteries hardening
due to the constant onslaught of excessive chocolate consumption.” When she looked in his golden-brown eyes, Truro knew he didn’t buy it. Flippant only worked on the uncaring and superficial. She knew instinctively he was neither. “This was a mistake,” she murmured as she started to get up from the bed. He was the wrong man to take on to prove something to herself.

  He sought her hand and pulled her toward him, not letting her get away. “Why?”

  Oh please let go. I cannot handle gentle right now. “I just wanted—”

  “Meaningless one-sided sex?”

  No. Maybe. I don’t know. “Yes.” How could she possibly explain to a gorgeous man like this her feelings of inadequacy? Truro bet that he never had an inadequate thought in his life. There was a power emanating from him that was both mesmerizing and commanding. It was the reason she had been drawn to him. That and the fact that he said he was just “passing through town”. If she made a fool of herself she would at least feel safe in the knowledge that only he would know.

  “So you suck my cock and make me come. Is it a power trip for you?”

  If only he knew. “No.”

  “Are you trying to prove something, petal?”

  That’s when the first teardrop fell, betraying her. Fuck. Keep it together woman. Truro wiped it away quickly. This is embarrassing. Weakness was not something she wanted to show any more. She had learned her lesson about giving in to need. It was a flaw that Truro knew weakened her. I will never allow that again.

  “What could you possibly need to confirm to yourself? That you’re attractive? That you can turn a man on?”

  His hand tightened on hers and Truro swallowed hard. She needed to get the hell out of there before she started bawling her eyes out. Truro hadn’t cried in a long time so it would be really ugly if she did so now.

  “No.” That didn’t come out as firmly as Truro wanted it to.

  “You are.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “This is about some other guy.”

  Truro snorted, as she blotted the tears that betrayed her. “I can assure you I hold no torch for any man.” Her ex-lover had killed any feeling she had inside her.

  “He hurt you, didn’t he?”

  So badly there are times I can barely speak without crying. “This is a mistake. I should leave.” And yet she couldn’t. Her mind told her to flee but her legs refused to budge. Truro was scared yet not. I must finally be going mad.

  “Why?”

  “God, you ask that a lot.”

  “So tell me, petal.”

  “Look, I don’t want anything deep and emotional, nor do I want to be pushed into it by you. I just wanted to feel—” What? What the hell did I expect to find here? Truro had avoided any real relationship with any man. She had sex, it normally ended badly and she moved on with her life. It wasn’t an ideal way to live her life but it was better and less complicated that way. If Truro felt nothing she could never be hurt. Yeah, so why did I allow Rodney to hurt me?

  “You wanted to feel something to make yourself feel good.” He stroked the skin of her hand with his thumb.

  Truro shot to her feet, survival instinct finally kicking in. “I have to go.” Stroking was making her wet and in need of cock. Cock is bad. Actually it is good but it never solves any of my problems.

  “Why?” He didn’t move. He just looked up at her. “Did I get too close?”

  “Yes.” There was no point trying to hide it. He saw too much. He was not someone she should experiment on.

  “What if I want more?” He stood up in one graceful move.

  Lordy, he is beautiful. Sleek, firm muscle and a mouth that would make an angel rebel.

  “You can’t have more.” It was time to go. Find my clothes and get out now before I do something stupid. Some men just had the ability to take a woman with a smile.

  “Why not?”

  Another frigging “why.” What is that about? Truro found her jacket and jeans. “Because I don’t want to feel anything.” She saw his eyebrow arch with interest. At least he had not asked “why” again. “It’s a long story.” With an ending that makes me feel stupid.

  “Tell me.” He came to stand before her, their bodies barely inches apart. He pulled the clothes from her hands. They dropped to the floor, leaving Truro defenseless.

  The close heat from his flesh made Truro close her eyes. What if I moved forward and leaned against him? Would it hurt? Just for a second? “I can’t do this.” She wasn’t sure if she was saying it more to him or herself. Her eyes opened on his. This man was dangerous.

  “What? Making love?”

  “It’s sex.” Truro was only too aware of the difference. Making love meant strong emotion and deep commitment. Sex was body parts colliding. It did not always mean adoration or respect. Anyway, couldn’t he see the difference between them? He was everything she wasn’t. Tall, attractive and sensual. Truro could feel the raw sexuality of the man washing over her. And that cock? It pointed high and bounced with every move he made. The man had some command over his body. But then he probably had more experience and control than her. Having sex with him would be like mating outside of species and opposites did not always attract. Truro had learned that lesson the hard way. But he was right. Truro had wanted to believe a man found her attractive. Problem was she’d found a man with a brain, and not just a loaded cock looking for gratification. That was dangerous. Time to go, Truro.

  “This man—”

  “Was a prick but I’m over it.” Truro stepped back slightly. His warm breath made her skin tingle.

  “Maybe you are but he left a scar.” He stepped into the space she’d made.

  Truro retreated back one more step, her legs hitting the edge of the bed. “Scars heal.”

  “Or they just get deeper.” He moved forward once more.

  Truro felt threatened but not in a fearful way. It was more a threat to the barriers she had so carefully erected to avoid situations like this. “You’re quite the philosopher.”

  “And you suck at trying to be hard and unemotional.”

  Yeah I do. “Let’s just consider this one of those moments that should never have—” And then his lips were on hers and whatever words she had been about to say were swallowed up under the gentle pressure of his mouth. Truro sighed as his hands moved down to the small of her back and held her close as the kiss between them deepened. She found herself clutching hold of his shoulders, shaken to the core and scared of falling. It was crazy but there was a solid protection in this man that made her want to hold on to him. And the kiss? It was the best kiss she’d ever had. Warm, soft, sexual and caring. There was no pretense, only need. It was the kiss futures were built on. That was if you were anyone but Truro Simpson.

  She pulled her lips from his. The sudden loss of heat made her gasp for air. It was almost like she had lost connection with a vital life source she needed. “Don’t.” Pulling away proved useless. He held her close not allowing her the distance she needed to think, to rationalize and to run.

  He tipped her chin up and looked at her. “Why? Because you feel something?”

  “Yes. I mean no. I mean, I’m not capable of feeling.” It was her mantra. Truro told herself often enough she felt nothing about anything and yet with this man it was different. All her nerve endings were suddenly alive and demanding more.

  “Oh, petal, that is so wrong, and after tonight you’ll know that.”

  After tonight? Truro gulped. This was not going as she planned. It was supposed to be a moment to prove something to herself and then to move on, untouched yet in control. “But—”

  “I will never hurt you.”

  Oh God, I want to believe that. “But I—” Once more he was kissing her and her thoughts were scattered as her hands moved down his back, caressing the strong muscles that flexed under her touch. It felt so good to touch a man without cringing at the possible pain he may bring to her. Just one more moment then I’ll let go. I have to. Truro knew she could not rely on this kind of warm and strength. I
t was nice but not possible in her life. Once more she pushed away from him. “I can’t think straight.” I need to think straight.

  “That’s the plan.” He placed a slow, lingering kiss on her mouth, smiling against her lips as she sighed.

  The cock at her stomach made Truro realize what was at stake here. Sex. And Lord knows I want him. There was the added bonus that he was a nameless stranger. There was a certain safety in that. Some may not look at it that way but knowing she would never see him again made her feel like taking a risk. Before it was just about proving a point. Now she wanted that nice hard point inside her body, heating her up and making her feel, if only for a moment, alive once more. I deserve that.

  “Um, I’m not good at, er, well you know.” Truro had been told in no uncertain terms she was frigid by the last idiot she had allowed to touch her. Yet how can that be when I’m so hot and wet right now? Truro hadn’t felt like that in a long time. Stranger sex was looking all the more doable.

  “Sex?” The man smiled down at her. He looked amused. “Says who? Some prick of a man who didn’t know his ass from his elbow?”

  That, in turn, made Truro smile. “Well yeah.” That summed up her ex. Her hands ran up and down the back of the man before her. Who was this tawny-haired giant? And why out of all the possible women he could have would he want her? “Why?” It was her turn to ask.

  “Why do I want to make love to you? Because, petal, you have completely blindsided me. And no, it was not your mouth on my cock that made feel that way.”

  Oh God. That was right. She had been sucking this stranger’s cock only moments earlier. Now he wanted to have sex with her. “Are you feeling sorry for me?” That would be truly pathetic. Pity fucks were too horrible to contemplate.

  “I don’t want to take your hand and help you cross a busy road. I want to slide into your body and make you understand how beautiful you are and how being with you, inside you, makes me feel special.”