Chapter 6

Six

The knock on my door isn't unexpected.

The fact Thomas was able to get to my door without my noticing is. He waits on my porch in a pair of slacks and a dark blue flannel under his coat.

"Good morning." I step aside to let him in. "Why aren't you in school, young man?"

Thomas laughs and shrugs out of his coat. "Canceled. Someone broke in last night and destroyed one of the bathrooms.

"No plumbing, no school. Can't put a thousand kids in a building where the water's been shut off."

"Sounds horrible."

"It would be." He slips his hand around my waist and reels me to him. "So I thought I'd drop by and see if I could entertain you, or at least be of use."

"What sort of entertainment did you have in mind?"

"For right now, I was thinking I could distract you." Brushing his thumb across my lip, he smiles and bites his own. "But tonight… Come to the house? It's the only night we're all sure we're home, so it's game night."

"And what games do you play?"

"The usual ones. You know, board, card, charades… As the newest player, you'll get the first pick."

"Sounds fun."

He licks his lips. "We'll make sure it is."

"Okay."

"Perfect. Our place. Six? Or is that too early?"

"My schedule is completely open today. There's no possibility of ‘too early'."

He chuckles and picks me up, holding me against him and making it so he's the one who has to look up. "If I'd known that, I'd have convinced you to come to our place and sneak in my room like we were both teenagers."

"Unlike most people's parents, I can guarantee the guys would have known I was there."

Thomas nips at my chin. "Even better."

"You really do like sharing, don't you?"

"Oh, they could watch… but this is my turn." He kisses me and lets me slide, slowly down his body. "Has anyone told you I'm the kind of guy who likes to eat dessert first?"

"They have not."

"In that case," he straightens and his mouth crumples, trying to suppress a grin. "Miss Scarlette Mathis, may I have the honor of taking you to bed?"

"I don't know…" I pretend to look at my watch. "I did just get up."

He tries to pout, but the effect is ruined when he can't hold back a chuckle. "I guess I'll just have to find a way to exhaust you."

He pulls me to him, arm hooked around my waist, lifting me off the ground so he doesn't have to bend to take my lips.

"I want to know everything you like, Scarlette."

"This is pretty nice."

"Only nice?" The lilt in his voice, the laugh… I could get used to this.

"There's nothing wrong with that word."

"But it's not divine or delicious, or life-changing."

"It's going to have to be a much stronger kiss than that, wolf man."

"Issuing a challenge like that is libel to end up with you on your back."

"You say that like you think I'll mind."

His lips twitch with a smile he tries to not show and he watches me for a moment before saying. "I've changed my mind. You get to earn it now."

I don't tell him I know how easy it would be to do just that, because he takes me to the green velvet loveseat in my living room and sits down so I'm straddling him.

"What price are you going to ask for?"

"That is a good question. How about we start with something simple and see how long it takes to get there?"

"Simple?" I pretend not to understand, settling myself lower on him.

Like this, my skirt gets in the way, between it and the slacks, and whatever he might have underneath, there's too many barriers.

"I think you should kiss me."

"Do you?" I lick my lips, not meaning to give myself away, "I suppose that would be a good starting point…"

Hand tracing up my spine, his fingers tangle in my hair. "You're going to have to come closer."

I'd pretend I didn't know what he wanted, but I want it too.

I don't get to kiss him. He drags me forward and takes my mouth as if he's been hungry for it since I left them on Sunday.

His lips are ridiculously soft and I melt into him, desire fluttering through me the way it always does with them.

"Thomas?" I whisper his name against his lips, but he doesn't let me move even a centimeter away.

He coaxes open my lips with his wicked tongue, and as soon as I part my lips to him, he surges in, hand at the back of my head, his other on the base of my spine, he pulls me even closer to him, like he doesn't want any space between us. And I have to chuckle.

"Are you laughing at me?" He pulls back and drags his thumb across my lip. "That doesn't sound very sexy."

"I just find it amusing," I lick the tip of his finger, "That you're doing everything I want you to, and I haven't had to ask for anything.

"Everything?" His gaze travels down. "And what if I want to do something new?"

"I'm sure I'll like it too."

"I think… You should wear more blouses," he says, hands trailing up my stomach to push my shirt over my breasts. "Buttons mean better access means more fun for you."

"More fun for everyone." I lean back, offering myself up to his lips.

This time, I hear the gravel crunch under tires, but it's the wolves that alert me.

"What's that?" Thomas asks, picking up his head and looking toward the door.

"An unwanted interruption." I pat him on the chest and pull my shirt back down. "You stay there and don't forget how much you want me. I'll deal with whoever it is."

The wolves scatter as soon as I step out onto the porch and look at our visitor.

It's a familiar white patrol car. One of the sharpest thorns in my side.

He gets out of his car and surveys the clearing in front of my house as if he expects something illegal to be out in the open. He even looks up at the top of my small barn, tipping back far enough he has to hold his hat.

"What brings you down today, Sheriff?" I ask, leaning on the porch rail and plastering a tepid smile on my face so my annoyance isn't so apparent.

"Good morning, Miss. Mathis. You're as hospitable as ever."

Derek Jones isn't an old man, but he certainly isn't young. He's the sort of creature that hovers in the strange ether of… not quite agelessness. But I can only guess that he is between twenty-five and fifty. Beyond that… narrowing him down would require investigation that I neither have the time nor inclination for.

"Generally speaking, a visit from you isn't a friendly ‘Hello'."

His smile is tight, his eyes narrow as he glances around the property one more time. "Well, then, I guess your expectations are correct.

"Connor has complained about your dogs. You need to keep them leashed if you can't confine them to your own property."

"If I had dogs, I would." Connor's old, and he's superstitious. He might have seen the wolves, but there's no chance the sheriff knows they're watching him from the edges of the drive, their ghostly heads peeking out of the bushes.

"See, now. Connor insists that you do."

"Well, he's wrong." Even if I'd admit to the wolves, they're not dogs and there's no way to "leash" them. "Maybe Connor's confused. If there are wolves or coyotes in the area… Or even a bobcat he didn't see too well, he might have been mistaken."

"Connor isn't in the habit of lying."

"Like I said. Maybe he's confused. I don't own any dogs."

The door opens behind me, and Sheriff Jones' too-pale eyes travel past me. His whole posture changes. "Good morning, Thomas. I didn't know you knew Miss Mathis."

"Hey, Derek. What's going on?"

"Just an animal complaint."

Thomas looks at me, eyes a little too wide to be genuine. "You had to make an animal complaint."

"No," he says quickly. "Connor—he owns the farm just to the east of here—he's complained about her dogs not staying on her property."

"But she doesn't own dogs."

The Sheriff's face twists in a scowl, but it's directed at me. "Connor is threatening legal action, so just keep them contained."

"I mean, he can waste his money. He'll have to have proof, which he won't get, because I don't have any dogs."

"Whatever you say, but this is your official warning." His glare disappears as his focus slides from me to Thomas. "You have a nice rest of your day, Mr. Howard."

We're both silent as he gets back in his car and gets himself turned around in the drive.

"Does he come around here often?" Thomas asks as the tail lights start to fade up the drive.

"Not really. He has to have a reason to get out here and those don't come up often. But he's made it clear on our few meetings in town that he's not a fan of me in general."

When I look up, he's still scowling at the drive.

"The feeling's mutual." I assure him.

That drags his attention back down to me. "Now, where were we?"

A hand under each leg, Thomas lifts me up, wrapping me around him and takes me back into the house.

"Now I just have to decide what, exactly, I want to do to you."

"Please tell me Johnny hasn't spread his silly ideas to the rest of you."

"Which ideas are those?"

"Mostly just the one where he was determined to leave me wanting more by sacrificing himself."

"I am in the habit of pleasing myself. And that means pleasing you too. He looks around. Point me to the bed, or you're going to need a new rug."

He goes where directed and I start to work on his shirt.

I don't get it off before he tosses me onto my bed.

The springs creak. And I have to swallow a squeak of a laugh as I bounce not once, but twice.

"Where do you think you're going?" Thomas grabs my ankle, pulling me back to him. The motion drags my skirt up around my hips.

"I've got plans, but they all take place in this bed."

"Good girl." Hands moving up my legs, his eyes watch their path, "Have we let you know just how beautiful you are, Scarlette? Because you make me wish I was an artist. You need to exist in every possible form to last the centuries.

"A sculpture of you would draw people from the world over."

"Should I find someone to pose for?"

Thomas bares his teeth, a faint rumble, deep in his chest. "We can talk about it."

I chuckle and take hold of his head with both hands, drawing his lips to mine. "How about I let you guys be the ones who get to view my exhibits and we go from there?"

"I do love a private showing."

Murmuring a yes, I shiver as his hand ghosts up my leg. "The next group tour can come later."

"I love those too." His smile is practically feral. "But I don't want to wait around for the others to show up."

Nodding, I nip at his lip. "That would take way too long."

"Up," he says, drawing back and tugging me with him. But as soon as I'm upright and he strips my shirt off, he pushes me right back down.

My skirt disappears a moment later and I'm completely naked for him again.

It should worry me how much I prefer being naked around them, but it doesn't.

I wasn't shy before… being around their energy, it makes complete sense that everything I want is amplified.

Like calls to like.

Being bombarded with the desire of four men all at once is exhilarating.

Even distilled down to just Thomas, the pack energy comes with him.

The only question is when all this will wear off… when I'll stop being horny all the effing time.

Thomas devours me with his eyes and licks his lips. "Could you do something to make it so no one came onto your property?"

I don't hide my confusion at the seemingly sharp veer of subject. "There's a fairly simple spell, yes."

He nods and his hand goes to his belt. "Good. One day, when you've got all four of us out here at your mercy, I want you to do that spell, and then, I want to have you naked, all to ourselves for a whole weekend."

"I'll see what I can do." My eyes are locked on his hands. "But I can't be the only one who's naked."

"Oh, you won't be." His belt pulled free, he makes quick work of his zipper, but he pulls off his shirt first and I get a beautiful look at his chest before I'm distracted.

Because as soon as he kicks his pants off, he's just as naked as I am, and I consider telling him I'm not the only one who needs to be sculpted.

"If the other teachers knew what you were hiding under those khakis…"

He laughs and a faint pink tinges his cheeks.

It only makes him look sexier.

It would be too easy to fall in love with this man… with any of them.

Reaching toward him, I open and close my fingers in a grabby motion. "Come here."

"Let me grab a condom."

"Do you want to use one?" I ask, drawing him up short. "Anything you might have had was burned out of your system when you shifted on Halloween. I haven't slept with anyone but the four of you since I got tested a year or so ago…"

"What about kids? None of us want to put you in a position that might… inconvenience you."

"You won't. I've got that covered." I'm not in that part of my cycle, I haven't done any fertility rituals… and even if there was a freak accident, I know how to handle that too.

He looks a little unsure, so I hold out my hands to him. "If you want to get one, you can… but either way, I need you inside of me."

There's a moment's hesitation, but barely that, and he comes back to me.

His lips kiss a searing line up my stomach and I reach over my head, grabbing the other edge of the mattress to keep myself from trying to guide him.

I want Thomas. And I need to know what that actually means.

As soon as he reaches my collarbone, his teeth graze my skin and then, he makes his way back down, hands drawing the lines his mouth would follow.

His strong hands grip my knees, and he brushes his thumbs over the skin there.

"Beautiful?"

"Mmhmm?"

"I want you to tell me the second I do something you don't like."

"I will."

"Good."

His mouth is on me before I register that he's even moved and I flinch against the pleasure of his lips.

"That, I definitely like."

The chuckle that brushes across my pussy makes me shiver.

It doesn't take long to figure out that Thomas is a very patient man.

His wicked tongue and fingers take me right up to the edge and he pulls back, kissing the inside of my thigh and holding me there with an even pressure on my clit with his thumb.

"Would you like to set a goal?"

"A goal?" I ask, completely unsure if I'll be able to understand him.

He nods, dragging his nose against my knee before he kisses it. "I am a very goal-oriented person. How about we shoot for four orgasms before I go?"

"I'd like to be able to walk tomorrow."

He laughs with me. But I can't laugh for long when his tongue finds me again.

If I was worried this would be quick and dirty, I was wrong. Thomas is methodical… focused.

Each time I squirm, he tightens his grip on my hips.

I want to ask him how he got this good at eating pussy. But that would require the ability to speak.

All I can manage is gasps and moans.

"Thomas…" I say his name, not knowing if it's meant as a warning or a plea.

His response is a groan that rumbles straight through me and I flinch as he draws back, one long pull on my clit.

But his fingers take up where his tongue left off and he looks up my body, a dark grin on his face.

"Enjoying yourself?" He asks.

I nod, the movement jerky and throwing my hair over my face. Before I can sweep it away, he's on me again and this time, each nip and suck is sharper, brighter.

His name is a whisper as I arch against him, trying to take both fingers and tongue deeper.

He doesn't let me have any control as he works me higher and I clench my hands on the sheets to keep from grabbing his hair to hold him in place while I ride his face.

The thought of that is what tips me over the edge—knowing he'd like it.

I cry out as the orgasm hits me, but Thomas stays put, riding the first wave and then coaxing every last tremor he can from me.

It feels like hours and seconds all at once as my head stops spinning from the pleasure.

He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "God, I love that."

His chest rises and falls, heavy with the desire I can see in his eyes.

Werewolves always have gorgeous bodies, but Thomas… Coachly duties have made his chest a wide expanse of toned, lean muscle.

I reach for him, dragging my nails over the lightly peppered hair on his chest. He straightens before I can drag them down, but my eyes follow his flat stomach down to see the faint lines of his abs and that V that is visible, but not so pronounced it's gross.

"You're certain about that condom?" He looks at me waiting for my answer before he gets anywhere near me.

"Yes, I'm sure. I'm safe with all of you, right?"

Something different, dangerous, flashes in his eyes. "If one of us ever hurts you, the rest of us will tear him apart."

"That won't be necessary." I press up on my elbows and brush my lips against his. "We both know none of you would ever do that."

He doesn't look completely convinced, so I kiss his cheek, and move further toward his ear. "Unless I ask for it."

The growl that meets that makes me squirm.

"Fuck me, Thomas. Fuck me like you mean it."

"Like I mean it?"

I nod, licking my lips. "I haven't forgotten what you're capable of. Just because you're not changed… I know that beast is still inside of you."

He hums, moving forward, one knee on the bed, crowding me back.

"You were temptation personified before…" he slides his thumb over me, spreading the wetness his attentions have pulled from me. "But knowing you… knowing you know and want us all anyway…"

With another growl he lines himself up against me, and takes everything he wants… everything I'm willing to give.

But he stops there, filling me so perfectly. His head dropped to mine, he smiles with gritted teeth. "I'm going to have to get a thesaurus. There have to be more ways to tell you how perfect you are."

I would laugh, but he doesn't give me the opportunity.

He takes my mouth with his, hot, wet and barely containing the force of his passion.

I'm still riding that earlier high and it doesn't take long for us to find the rhythm that works so perfectly for us.

And he's paying attention.

He presses one leg up opening me further, getting him closer to—

This time, when I break apart, he's there to catch the cry in a brutal kiss. And just like last time, he doesn't pause—doesn't give me any space to breathe as I come for him.

He fucks me like he means it until the last shivering wave of this orgasm dies.

The smile on his face is practically feral.

But as he moves on me, it's not at a frantic and feral pace. He fills me again and again. Each thrust is long and hard and his eyes never leave mine. Like he's afraid if he blinks I'm going to disappear.

But I am not going anywhere.

I slide my fingers through his hair and tug him gently to me. I want to kiss him. To taste him… to taste me on his lips and I wan't—

I bite his lip and his shoulders tense.

He pulls back, looking down at me while his tongue explores the place my teeth had just taken hold of. "I probably shouldn't like that so much."

I lean to the side, dragging my teeth over his biceps. "You should definitely like it."

Shaking his head, he laughs and he takes hold of my chin in his hand. "You're going to be the death of me… and I'm going to enjoy every moment of it."

Legs wrapped around him, I let him guide himself into me again, angling my hips so he hits all the right places.

His hand under me, he presses me up, holding me where I've placed myself.

"Tell me what you need, beautiful. I want to know everything you like."

"We've got time to learn everything."

His muscles are tense, I know he's holding back, and I know there's one way to make him take that pleasure he's denying himself.

This time, my teeth find the crux of his neck and shoulder and when I bite…

He comes with a guttural sound and I hold tight to him as the last tremors of his orgasm jerk through him.

I can't wipe the self-satisfied grin from my face when he finally opens his eyes. And he chuckles at me, the sound more breath than anything else, and with another groan, he slides from me, onto his side.

He pulls me against him, holding me tight to his side. "Give me a little bit and we'll work on numbers three and four."

Shaking my head against his shoulder, I don't tell him I think he's going to be too much for me. After all, if I want to keep them all, I'm going to have to get used to the occasional marathon.

Instead, I nip at his skin before kissing the same spot.

He pulls in a sharp breath between gritted teeth.

"Why shouldn't you like that?"

"Because I'm pretty sure that's how I turned… I mean, I didn't get attacked on a full moon or in the woods, so—"

"It's possible. Were you with someone who bit you hard enough to break the skin before you changed the first time?"

"Yeah. I thought she was just a sadist, and she disappeared afterward, but two weeks later, the moon was full, and I had fur."

He laughs as he says it, but I know it wasn't funny for a long time after that first change.

"It got easier once you found the others, didn't it?"

He nods, turning us so I'm on top of him. "It's easier to understand when you can compare and figure out what's normal and what isn't."

He traces patterns over my stomach, breath fluttering on my skin. "Is it disappointing?"

I wait for him to finish the thought.

"Being with one of us, I mean, after you've been with all of us."

"Not even a little bit." I thread my fingers through his hair, gently massaging his head until I hear the groan slip from his lips. "It's like a salad."

He snorts a laugh and moves so he can meet my gaze with a confused one of his own. "I am trying so hard to keep comments about ranch dressing to myself."

"Sex is the lettuce. It's fine on its own, but each of you is a different addition. All of it's good and not having cranberries doesn't mean I don't enjoy the walnuts just as much."

"Walnuts?"

"It's not a perfect metaphor."

He huffs another laugh through his nose and pulls me more closely to him. "You just let me know when you're hungry again."

Before I can answer, a buzzing echoes from the floor and he drops his head back to the pillow. "Please be a weather warning."

Whispering words against his skin, I raise my hand and his phone slips free of his pocket on the floor and floats to him.

He snatches it out of the air. "That's pretty sexy. Could you make me fly?"

"Not with that spell. If I can't lift it myself, the spell can't lift it either."

"I am going to quiz you on what you can and can't do soon, you know that right?" But his attention is quickly diverted. Groaning, he scowls at the screen. "Emergency staff meeting."

When he rolls out of bed, I stay where I am, watching him.

Even this late in the year, his skin is tanned and his hair still has some of the summer's lightness to it.

There's no comparing him to the others. They're all too different for that, but I certainly wouldn't mind this view a few mornings each week.

He catches me looking when he pulls his shirt over his head, and a sweet blush floods his cheeks.

But if he wanted to say something, his phone buzzes again and he curses.

Kissing me, he snatches up his keys. "I'll see you tonight? At six?"

"Text me when you're back at home and I'll come by earlier."

"The second I'm back in that door."

I believe him. That's why, once he's gone… after I've stretched my well used muscles, I get up, tidy the spell mess in the kitchen and don't waste time getting the rest of my tiny task list done.

My phone buzzes as I'm packing up an overnight bag.

I am home, and will patiently await your arrival.

Just have to swing by the store on the way, and I'll be all yours.

All ours? Sounds like a deal.

The drive into town is uneventful… even if I see the sheriff sitting next to an old lumber storage warehouse that's been converted into the office for an excavating company. He only glares at me as I go past.

"You've got nothing on me, asshole."

Parking for the boardwalk is a nightmare—and I shouldn't be surprised. With all the kids out for the day, half of them are here.

I dodge around kids on skateboards and groups of girls laughing at the kids on the skateboards. Another group is filming a dance. This is why I don't come down here on the weekends.

They've got me so distracted, I almost run into the woman coming out of Wexxons. I only just manage to stop before we would have collided.

And in the split second I realize who she is, Aphrodite screeches my name.

"Scarlette!" She smiles so widely, I'd almost believe she was astonished to see me. "I hope you had a blessed Samhain."

"I did," It takes me a moment to regain my composure. "And you?"

"It was my first Samhain on my own and it was… oddly nice. You must love not having the pressures of the coven for the holidays." She flips her hand in a dismissive motion. "So many old witches pushing their silly thoughts on those of us trying to progress with the times."

Those "old witches" included both of our parents.

Aphrodite Lourdes had been born Anita Jane Lourdes, and while she'd kept her family's last name—her lineage was one of the most prideful parts of her—Anita hadn't held the right gravity for the respect and renown she'd felt she'd deserved.

"What are you doing in town?"

"Oh, gosh! I thought someone would have told you. I decided I needed a change of pace, so I'm relocating!" She says the last word with a sing-songy tune and throws her hands out as if I should be ecstatic. "I'd completely forgotten you'd disappeared into obscurity here. We will have to get together for lunch sometime soon so you can tell me the good the bad, and the ugly about the town."

She hugs me, twirls about and leaves as if everything is set.

We aren't friends.

We've never been friends.

And she's acting like we used to hang out every Friday night.

"What."

I pull out my phone.

"The."

Dial my mother's number.

"Hell?"

The call connects and I don't give her the opportunity to say hello. "When were you going to tell me Aphrodite Lourdes had moved to town?"

"Is that where she wound up?" My mother sighs, and I can imagine her shaking her head. "I wouldn't worry about it, she's all bluster and no spark. The last time she tried to do anything powerful enough to worry about she blew the power grid for half of Springfield. Her line might have rivaled the oldest in recorded history, but she fizzles faster than a baby witch. She wants shortcuts. And that has left her lacking all skill and finesse. Generational power is only as good as the time and effort you put into it."

"And it turned more than one of her spells into a sledge hammer. I thought the coven was going to deal with her."

"We did."

"Funny, she's acting like nothing at all has changed."

"She's just saving face." Another sigh, this time for me. "Don't worry about her."

"Mom—"

But before I can tell her about the tracker and the warnaway—both of which I am now certain Aphrodite placed—she quickly says, "I have to go, love you! You can handle anything that girl decides to try."

The phone goes silent and I stare at my reflection in the window.

I'm used to her not taking me seriously about things, but for some reason, this time it feels like an actual insult.

Or maybe it's simply because this feels like a mess she ought to have cleaned up before Aphrodite even got the idea in her head to make her way to my little slice of solitude.

I take a few deep breaths of the freezing, salty air, before I turn back to the door to Wexxon's.

"Scarlette!" Anthony looks up from his work with a smile so wide, I'm certain he's completely forgotten that I might be mad at him. "I was just talking about you."

To Aphrodite no doubt.

Her surprise at seeing me was feigned, just like I thought.

"Nothing bad, I hope."

"There's nothing bad to tell." He leans on the counter between us, clearly hopeful there's a possibility the date with Joshua was a one-off. "What can I get for you today? My shipment didn't show up, so there's nothing fun to show you."

"That's alright. I just need a few basic things."