Shadow of the Wolf

“You could still say no.” His finger brushed over her cheek.

He had to be kidding, right? “God, now my head really hurts.” There was no way she could live with herself if Chris died simply because she said no, but she wasn’t ready to say yes yet no matter how much his touch made her cream her panties or how good the sex was. They were living in a bubble, but when the real world inserted itself into their lives he’d see he must have made a mistake. No wizard family would tolerate having a witch in it!

He frowned immediately, getting up from the table to find the Tylenol. “Here, take this. You want something to eat?”

The milk, four glasses and a plate of Oreos floated onto the table. “Dig in.” Grammy grabbed and cookie and twisted it apart, licking the cream inside. “What?”

It was no use berating her grandmother for using her powers the way she had.

Grammy knew the consequences probably better than Lana did. Lana picked up a cookie and bit into it.

Gareth shook his head. “Here, let me.” He poured them each a glass of milk, handing them around. “We have to decide what to do about this before Cole tries again.”

“We’ve neutralized the sickness spell. I doubt he has enough fur to try anything more.” Chris dunked his cookie twice before shoving half of it into his mouth.

“And even if he did, Grammy and I spelled the soup to make sure it wouldn’t take.”

The brothers stared at her. “What, you’ve never heard of preventative medicine?” She swallowed the Tylenol, chasing it with another bite of Oreo. Yum. My kind of medicine.

“I didn’t hear you spellcasting.”

“You wouldn’t have.” Grammy took another Oreo. “I don’t know exactly how a wizard’s magic works, but words aren’t always necessary for a witch to cast a spell. It’s the symbol they represent, the stated intent behind the spell that’s important.

Visualization can work wonders, especially when a sick person is involved.”

Gareth pointed at Lana, a slow grin crossing his face. “That’s why you gave him chicken soup!”

She shrugged and dunked her next cookie. “I told you, it’s good for colds.”

Chapter Six

Lana woke up the next morning to a feeling of warmth. A heavy arm lay across her stomach, another under her head. She could feel Chris curled up behind her, spooning her, his breath gently stirring her hair.

“Chris?”

A snore was her answer.

“Chris?”

A deep breath huffed out, blowing her bangs into her eyes. She would have reached up and brushed them away but her arm was trapped under his.

“Chris!”

“Huh?” She turned her head to find sleepy gold eyes staring down at her. “Mornin’.”

“Why are you in my bed?”

He reached up and brushed her hair away from her eyes. “Because Gareth’s sleeping in my bed.”

She glared at him. “This isn’t Goldilocks.”

“Guess I can’t call you Teddy then.” He snuggled back down, tugging her closer.

“Go back to sleep.”

“I said separate bedrooms, Chris.”

“Yup. I have a bedroom.”

She nudged him with her elbow. “Go sleep in it.”

“But someone else is sleeping in my bed.” He pouted down at her, all sleep rumpled.

His voice was full of a sleepy rumble that had her insides melting into aroused goo. It took all of her willpower to keep from pressing her rear back against his hot erection, but after sampling him the other day, it was much harder than she thought.

Mm, much, much harder. She shook her head, trying to get visions of riding him in reverse cowgirl out of her head. “You’ve never shared a bedroom with your brother before?”

“Bedroom, yes. Bed, no. He hogs the covers and he snores, but the worst part? He tried to snuggle and called me Tammy.”

Lana choked. “No way.”

Chris shuddered. “Trust me. It was leave or face deflowering.”

“Look on the bright side. He didn’t call you Tommy while being all cuddly.”

Chris whimpered. “Are you trying to break my brain?”

She giggled.

“What time is it?” He rolled over slightly, checking the glowing numbers on the clock. “Six thirty? You’re a morning person? ”

She giggled again.

“You can’t be a morning person. No way would fate be that cruel.”

“Unlike you, I have a boss who expects me at work in the mornings.”

He buried his face in her hair. “Please tell me you at least make coffee.”

“That’s what most people drink in the morning.”

“Okay, I forgive you.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Hey, Nurse Evans? I have this pain.”

She smacked his hip. “Go back to sleep, perv.”

“Don’t you want to take my temperature?” He gave her puppy-dog eyes, but his wandering hands were anything but puppy-like. His fingers were between her legs, stroking in slow, seductive circles.

“Chris?”

“Hmm?”

“You have to let go so I can get up.”

“One of us is up already.”

“Chris!”

He rolled on top of her, his cock resting against her opening. “You’re a morning person, remember?”

She licked her lips, the feel of his warm body drugging her. “I told myself no more surprise sex.”

One brow rising, he slowly thrust against her, nudging her entrance. “There’s no surprise here, Lana. We already know how good it can be.” He bent over her with a warm smile. “I promise you.” He licked her chin, the move surprisingly erotic. “This time?” He nipped her earlobe, pulling a shudder from her. “It will be better.”

She gulped. Her resistance was melting like butter in the sun. “Better?”

“Mmm.” The purring growl sent a shiver through her. “I plan on taking my time.”

He kissed the hollow of her throat. “I want to savor every inch of you.” He tasted the top of her left breast. “Find out what makes you shiver.” He sucked her nipple into aching hardness. One finger thrust into her pussy, stroking her in time with the suction of his mouth. She gasped, arching up into his hand and mouth. His thumb stroked over her clit with every thrust, bringing it to painful life. “I want to know what makes you scream, and how to get you to whimper.”

“I shouldn’t.” She fucked herself on his finger, fighting her body’s desires. Her body was winning, clubbing her fears to death with strong, steady strokes of one male finger.

And who the hell was she kidding? She shouldn’t, but she was going to!

He chuckled. “You should. You definitely should.” He slipped under the comforter.

Before she could even squeak, his warm tongue was lapping at her pussy. Over and over, gentle then hard, from her hole to her clit.

That was the last straw. Her brain threw its hands up in disgust and took a back seat to her libido. “Lick me. God, lick me.” She threaded her fingers through his hair, her fingers stroking, encouraging him. She’d given up her