Willow and the Wolf Book One (EBOOK)

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“I love your car.” Willow smoothed her hand over the dashboard.

“Thanks,” Mal said.

He opened the window and had to restrain from sticking his head out into the breeze. Willow’s scent was everywhere, and he could barely concentrate on driving. Her scent would cling to him for the rest of the day and drive his wolf mad with need.

“Maybe I could drive on the way back?” Willow said.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re too little to handle this type of power.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Please, I’ve been driving cars like this since I was sixteen.”

“Really?”

“Yup. My dad was a mechanic and a collector of fast cars.” She stared out the window. “He taught me how to drive when I was twelve.”

“Twelve?” He couldn’t keep the disbelief out of his voice.

“Yes. Mama wasn’t pleased about that. She gave him the biggest lecture when she found out. She was worried I’d get in an accident. Of course, it was fine. Daddy was a very safe driver, and he taught me to be safe as well.”

He grunted in reply, and she smiled at him again. “So, what do you say? Can I drive on the way back?”

“No.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Meanie.”

“Did you just call me meanie?”

“Yes. What? Is everyone too afraid of the big bad wolf to tell him the truth about his personality?”

“I’m not a meanie,” he protested.

“Well, you’re definitely a grumpy,” she said.

“You don’t know anything about me,” he said.

“That’s true. But whose fault is that? Not mine. I’ve been trying to get to know you over the last month,” Willow said.

“You don’t need to know anything about me. You’re my employee, nothing else.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

She pouted adorably, and he had to clench his hands around the steering wheel to stop himself from pulling the car over and kissing away the pout. “It sort of does.”

“Ridiculous,” she said. “I think you just dislike humans.”

“I don’t dislike humans,” he said.

“No? Then it’s just me?”

“Ms. Tanner, I don’t -”

“You know what I think? I think you just don’t know enough about me. Once you get to know me, you won’t be able to resist me, Mal.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him, and he almost groaned out loud when she wet her bottom lip with her small, pink tongue.

“So, here are the facts about Willow Blossom Tanner. I’m twenty-five, I -”

“Your middle name is not Blossom,” he said.

“It totally is. My parents were hippies. Did I forget to mention that?” She giggled.

He didn’t reply, and she continued. “As I was saying, I’m twenty-five, single – but you already know that – and my best friend is Ava. What was up with Bishop and the sniffing, by the way?”

“Uh…” He didn’t know how to respond.

“He certainly seemed to like her smell. Is that a bear shifter thing or a shifter thing in general?”

“Most shifters have an excellent sense of smell. They use it to figure out all sorts of things about other paranormals and humans.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged. “Where they live, what they do for a living, how old they are, their emotions at the time.”

“Really? How old they are?”

He nodded. He was suddenly sweating, and he hoped Willow wouldn’t notice. From a single sniff, most shifters could tell if a person was hungry or happy, or frightened or – he swallowed thickly – aroused.

“That is so cool,” she said thoughtfully. “Paranormals are so lucky. Imagine being able to sniff someone and instantly know if they were happy.”

“Not all paranormals can do it,” he reminded her. “Some have better senses than others.”

“I suppose something like a penguin shifter wouldn’t be able to smell your happiness,” she said.

“There is no such thing as a penguin shifter.”

“How do you know?” She countered immediately. “Just because you’ve never seen one doesn’t mean they don’t exist. They wouldn’t live here, would they? It’s much too warm for them.”

“Penguin shifters do not exist,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Do you believe in spirits?”

He blinked at the abrupt change in topic. “What?”

“Spirits? Do you believe in them?”

“You mean ghosts?”

“Ghosts, spirits, ethereal beings – whatever you want to call them.” She shrugged.

“There is no such thing as ghosts.”

She frowned at him. “You know, for being a paranormal, you have an awfully restricted view of the world.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m just not prone to ridiculous thoughts and ideas, Ms. Tanner.”

“You think I’m ridiculous?” She gave him a hurt look.

“I didn’t say that. I’m just implying that you have ridiculous ideas.”

She mulled that over. “I suppose you have a point. To the unbeliever, I would come across as ridiculous.”

“The unbeliever?”

“Yes. You know, someone like you. You’re much too practical for your own good, Mal. You have to open your heart and your head to the possibility that there are things in this world that can’t be explained.”

“I prefer to be seen as normal, thanks. It’s better for business.”

She laughed. “True. I blame your upbringing.”

“You know nothing about my upbringing,” he said.

“I know your parents aren’t hippies like mine were.”

“Were?” He glanced at her.

For the first time since he’d met her, the cheerful look on her face dropped away. “My parents died two years ago in that plane crash. You know the one.”

He nodded. It had been all over the news. One hundred and twenty-five humans and forty paranormals died instantly when their plane crashed into the ocean. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. I miss them terribly. I’m an only child, and neither of my parents’ siblings is still alive.”

She stared out the window for a moment. “It gets pretty lonely, you know? Thank God for Ava.”

She fidgeted with the buttons on her shirt. “I thought maybe I would see them again. Thought that maybe they would make an appearance just to say they loved me but that never happened. I shouldn’t be surprised. Both my parents were extremely happy people. There was nothing left to keep them in this world. Still… I hoped they would want to see me one last time.”

“What are you talking about?” Just when he thought she was normal, she threw out random crap like that.

“Nothing,” she said cryptically. “Where was I? Oh yes, we were telling each other about our personal lives. It’s your turn now.”

He shook his head. “We weren’t talking about our personal lives - you were talking about your personal life.”

“Oh c’mon,” she wheedled. “Throw me a bone, would you? I want to know something about the big bad wolf.”

He snorted, and she grinned at him. “Maybe I can guess.”

She studied him for so long that he could feel a blush creeping up his neck. “Stop staring at me.”

“I’m just trying to figure you out.”

“It’s rude to stare.”

“I suppose it is. Maybe I should sniff you instead.”

Before he could stop her, she leaned over and nearly buried her face in his neck. She inhaled deeply, and he stiffened and leaned away.

“It’s even ruder to smell someone without their invitation,” he snapped.

“Man, I’ve got a lot to learn about shifters. I thought shifters would be cool with the sniffing.” She sat back in her seat. “That didn’t tell me anything, anyway. Other than you wear great cologne.”

He blushed, and she clapped her hands with unrestrained glee. “I made you blush!”

“No, you didn’t!” he snapped again.

“Of course not. Your natural colour is bright red,” she said.

He stopped the car at a red light, and she grinned impishly. “Maybe you should smell me.”

“Definitely not,” he growled.

“Oh c’mon…it’ll be fun!”

She unclicked her seat belt and leaned in until he could feel her small breasts pressing against his arm. He stared at her in panic as she tilted her head up.

“Go on, Mal. Sniff me,” she said.

“Ms. Tanner, this isn’t -”

“Are you a chicken?” She smacked him playfully on one broad thigh. “I’ve never seen you in your wolf form. Maybe you’re actually a chicken shifter.”

He growled and pressed his face into her soft throat. He inhaled deeply, his cock hardening against the worn fabric of his jeans as her scent washed over him. He inhaled again and again as Willow waited patiently.

“Well? What can you tell about me?” she asked.

“You showered this morning.”

“Obviously. I shower every morning. C’mon, wolf boy, tell me something you couldn’t possibly know.”

“You had strawberries and wine last night for dinner. You wear vanilla body lotion, but not this morning, you were excited by something last night, and you’re twenty-six, not twenty-five.”

She leaned back a little and stared at him in wide-eyed wonderment. “That’s amazing! I did totally lie about my age!”

A grin crept across his face, and her eyes sparkled happily in response. “Do me again, Mal!”

“I – what?” he croaked out. He couldn’t stop the immediate mental image of yanking up Willow’s skirt, tearing off her panties, and making her straddle him while he fucked her senseless.

“Sniff me again! Tell me something else!”

“Uh, no, I don’t think -”

He groaned out loud when she shoved her throat eagerly into his face. This time she rested one warm hand on his thigh, and he was helpless to stop from cupping the back of her head and holding her steady while he breathed in. His traitorous tongue licked her soft skin, his balls tightening when she moaned softly in response. Her hand clenched on his leg as he licked her again.

“Does – does taste tell you something as well?” she squeaked out.

“Yes,” he muttered. Her arousal was strong and overpowering in the small car, and his wolf howled with delight when he nipped her neck.

“Oh!” She jerked against him, and he gripped her neck and forced her head to the side before licking from the hollow of her throat to her earlobe.

“What does it tell you?” she asked breathlessly.

“That you taste good,” he whispered.

“Why do I get the feeling that the big bad wolf wants to eat me right up?” Willow asked.