Winter Howl (Sanctuary) Read online

  Renee began to step away from all of them, backing away until she could see the entire tableau in front of her—the lost faces of her friends as they stared at her as though they didn’t recognise her, and the man on the other side of the room who was completely at ease with where he was and how things were.

  “I’m coming back,” she managed to say. But she still could not seem to get far enough away from the situation, and the backs of her heels found the stairs to the loft.

  “Why him, Renee?” Britt asked, in little more than a whisper. “Why him?”

  “I’m still here,” Renee said. “I haven’t changed. I promise. Nothing’s changed. I need to get ready.”

  She went up the stairs. Not running, just walking at a normal pace. Though she was fleeing, she was relieved she was managing to be so restrained. She closed the curtain behind her and tried to breathe. She opened her closet door, opened her dresser drawers, and stared at her clothes. She needed something she could do and packing seemed like an idea, yet everywhere she looked, she could not find anything right. So all she could do was stare impotently at her clothes and hear bits and pieces of what was going on in the living room. She thought that Grant had left when she had, and if Jake had not killed him on the spot, he had probably gone back to the shifters’ barn, waiting for the time when he would have her all to himself.

  And she was here, alone, with a wilderness of distance between herself and her friends. And Britt. Britt seemed further away than ever.

  The voices downstairs grew quieter. A line of light split the room. Renee did not look back to see who was there, who had pulled back the curtain.

  “What are you looking for?” Britt asked.

  Britt’s bare feet made little whispering sounds on the wooden floor.

  “Looking for things you can take with you on your little trip? Low-cut tops, short skirts, sexy lingerie? It’s what he’s expecting from you. His little piece of human arm candy that he’s bringing along to show off to everyone. Looking good on the fur carpet.”

  “I don’t have those things,” Renee said. Everything she had in her closet was functional. Most of the time, she was getting dirty or getting fur all over everything. If it looked marginally good on her, that was just a bonus. But there was nothing for a night on the town because she had never had one, or had expected to have one.

  There was a rustle of cotton and the sound of a zipper. Britt was undressing behind her.

  “You don’t need those things,” Britt said. “You never did. You could be covered head to toe in clumps of mud and still have those bedroom eyes.”

  Britt slid her arms around Renee’s waist and cupped her breasts, rubbed lightly at the peaks until Renee felt them grow harder under her bra. Britt pressed her mouth where Grant had kissed her on the neck, covering the sensation with a new one, a new mouth. Renee held the dresser drawer tightly with her left hand.

  “Is it that he doesn’t care about you? Because you know that he doesn’t. And you know that I do. Is it that he’s rough?” Britt asked. “Is that why you’ll let him be with you? I can be rough. If it’s what you need, I can give you what you need, Renee. I always have.”

  “I don’t need that from you,” Renee answered.

  Britt stroked a hand down Renee’s stomach, brushing the waist of her jeans and slipping under. “From the beginning, I’ve honoured your boundaries because I knew that they were important. I knew that this is the way you are and always have been. But he just blasted through like an explosion, with no consideration, no understanding. What did he do to you that makes you feel like you need that?”

  Britt was not considerate or gentle as she began to press with her fingers, trying to find the place that made Renee’s breathing hitch. When she did, Renee leant back into Britt’s arms and closed her eyes.

  “He’s everything I’m not. It’s not permanent, and I don’t think he’s fixing me. But for the moments that he pushes me past all the circling thoughts and paralysing fears, I can do things I’ve never done.” She tightened her grip on the drawer again, but this time because she could feel the pleasure inside her tensing her up. “And in those moments, I feel like I think a normal person does.”

  “I can be what you want,” Britt said urgently.

  “You are,” Renee said, pulling Britt’s hand from her jeans and turning around. She drew Britt down and kissed her, drawing her in, tasting her, taking her mouth. Britt moaned, losing herself in the passion Renee only occasionally showed. Renee was completely clothed, and Britt was completely bare. Renee stroked down from neck to thigh, feeling every curve as though memorising them.

  “Don’t you understand?” Renee asked. She kissed a line down Britt’s sternum and bit lightly at her left breast. “You are what I want, and I don’t know why you ever stayed here when you could have been so much more with someone better than me. I don’t want you to be anything other than what you are. I’ve told you that I appreciate everything that you do for me, even if I don’t always have the words for it.”

  “You seem to be doing very well right now,” Britt said. She tucked Renee’s hair behind her ears, scratching her nails across the scalp the way she knew Renee liked.

  “I know you can be rough,” Renee said. “But you aren’t with me. And if I needed that to change, I would say something.”

  “Then why him?”

  “I don’t know,” Renee said, just short of shouting, which was unusual for her. She continued at a lower volume. “I don’t know why I do these things with him. I’m not used to not knowing why I do things. Even when I’m illogical, I can usually point to my craziness as the reason. But I don’t know why I want him. I don’t know why I let him do what he does to me. I just know that you aren’t him, and I never would want you to be him.”

  Britt led them to Renee’s bed so that they could speak on a more even footing. “Look, you know it isn’t that you found someone else you wanted to be with. You know I wouldn’t care if you wanted Jake or, hell, Leslie seems like an interesting match for you. Or someone in town that you trusted. Or you could meet someone online. I don’t mind you with someone else. You aren’t just mine. But Renee… Him. I can’t stand you with him. Nothing good can come of that because he is not a good man.”

  “I know,” Renee said.

  “Then why?”

  “I want him,” Renee said. “I can’t explain why. It’s just there. And I don’t think it will always be there. But it is now, and it’s strong. I don’t think I want it over yet. Because I like it, Britt. I shouldn’t, but I do.”

  Britt sat back and stared at Renee, but her eyes were just a little beyond what was right in front of her. Then she lifted her head a little, and she breathed in decisively. “Okay. It’s not my choice. And I’ve said what I needed to say.”

  “I know it all already,” Renee said. “But you see…” She crawled to the centre of the bed and knelt. “It doesn’t all have to be bad.”

  “Oh?” Britt said, mouth quirking a little.

  Renee beckoned to her, and Britt was quick to oblige and climb onto the covers, meeting Renee in the middle. Renee kissed Britt once before swiftly pulling her shirt and jeans off, leaving her in just her cami, bra, and panties. Then she looked at Britt as she brought the cami over her head.

  “Are you sure?” Britt asked.

  Renee nodded and began to unhook her bra, but Britt stopped her and did it herself before helping her remove the last bit of clothing.

  “Are we ready?”

  Renee pushed Britt gently back and held herself above her. “I know I can now. You’ll tell me if something’s wrong?”

  “That’s supposed to be my line,” Britt said, laughing.

  “Remember, I won’t break.”

  Renee lowered herself down onto Britt’s body, feeling her skin where there had only ever been clothing. She rubbed her cheek on Britt’s chest, her breasts against ribs, the bareness of her sex against Britt’s tangle of thicker curls. They tickled her clit in the perfect kind
of maddening way. She felt like a cat, just feeling without really touching, getting used to being naked with Britt. It felt different, she supposed, with different people. It was never really the same because they always wanted different things and they had such different textures. But as she had said, although it would be different with Britt, she knew that she could.

  She pulled back and brought her hands between Britt’s thighs, pushing them open so that she could slip between them. She bent down to lick the crease behind Britt’s knee. Britt half-laughed, but clenched her hand in the sheet. Renee knew how sensitive Britt could be in the creases behind her knees, in front of her elbows, the tops of her legs, the backs of her feet, the place right under her jaw. What Renee thought to be the most unlikely places to make a person shiver like Britt did.

  She drew a path with her mouth up the length of strong thigh until she could smell Britt’s arousal right in front of her. It was not so much that what she saw was unfamiliar. It was more that it was almost surreal to see her up close—as though the strange loveliness of a woman’s genitalia could not be associated with the familiarity of the rest of the body. Of course, Renee had her own and had seen it in mirrors, but it was not as if she had ever had the chance to really look closely at herself. As with her reaction with Grant, she was not sure whether she felt one way or another about the appearance or scent, strong and strange to her. All she knew was that she could give Britt pleasure there, and that she wanted to.

  She threaded her thin fingers through the thick hair, touching the lines of Britt’s labia until they reached the hood. Britt hissed, lifting her hips slightly. Renee stroked the revealed nub with the curve of her nail. Her clit was a little bigger than Renee’s and pinkly swollen. Britt hissed again.

  “Does it hurt?” Renee asked.

  “A little,” Britt said. “You know it’s sensitive.”

  “I know.” Then Renee dipped down and surrounded her partner’s clit with her mouth, sucking lightly with each breath, then swirling her tongue at the tip and down beneath the hood. She gripped the tops of Britt’s legs, stroking at those creases that only made Britt mewl just a little bit louder when she found a particularly sensitive spot. Renee was neither lost in her actions nor unaffected. She undulated her hips slowly against the sheets, but her main focus was on the act itself, learning from every cant of Britt’s hips, from every cry, as she tried something new just to elicit a reaction and determine whether what she was doing was right.

  She explored Britt’s folds, tasting the slightly salty moisture from her entrance. Renee was not sure whether it really tasted like anything—it was a much weaker taste than Grant, and Renee was fine with that. She took one hand away from Britt’s leg to slide one finger, then two into the slick, soft flesh. It was so much like touching herself, except here she could see everything and simply remember what it did to her and know what it was doing to Britt. It wasn’t the same, of course. Britt’s fingernails on her scalp weren’t usually there, for instance, or the steady stream of sounds from Britt when Renee was used to being quiet herself.

  Quite by accident, she curled her fingers once, twice, and she thought Britt was going to hurt her as she came, almost doubling over.

  Britt gave a dry laugh as Renee pulled her wet fingers out.

  “I didn’t think you’d find that on the first try. It actually took me ages,” Britt confessed. “I was a little embarrassed that I hadn’t found it sooner. Here, I know you’d like to clean that off.” She started to get up for a washcloth or towel, but Renee stopped her with her clean hand. Drawing Britt back down, she sucked her fingers into her mouth and cleaned them right there, beneath the curtain of Britt’s luxuriantly wild hair.

  “I can clean up later,” Renee said.

  “You know, my dear, if I thought you’d be this receptive, I would have pushed your boundaries a long time ago,” Britt said, grinning and taking Renee’s fingers into her own mouth. Renee was surprised how the same action could feel so different when Britt was the one doing it. As soon as they were free, Renee replaced her fingers with her lips, kissing Britt hard and wrapping herself around the long, lithe, firm body, finally starting to lose herself in the feeling.

  “So do I get an A?” Renee asked.

  “Undoubtedly.” Britt laved her ear just the way Renee liked her to, then nipped her way down the cord of her neck. For a moment, Renee almost told her to bite, but she thought Britt might take it the wrong way. Instead, she pressed her thighs harder around Britt’s hips, her heels crossing as she brought her nails up the back of Britt’s thighs. Britt practically purred as she took one of Renee’s nipples into her mouth, then moved to the other, letting the cold air tighten the first. Renee squirmed, wanting the heat and softness of Britt’s tongue again. She rolled her nipple between her own fingers, circling the areola, but it was not quite the same. The darker look in Britt’s eyes, however, with her pupils dilated… That was good.

  “Over me,” Britt directed, falling back and pulling Renee kneeling over her. Then she pushed herself down so that her mouth was poised underneath Renee’s cunt.

  “I can still smell him here,” Britt murmured.

  “I can only clean so much,” Renee said. “You all have a better sense of smell.”

  Looking up at her, Britt looked oddly vulnerable, younger again. But there was nothing young in the husky voice as she commanded, “Ride my mouth.”

  Renee wondered how—and with whom—Britt had practiced something like this as she dove right in, fingers and tongue working in tandem around and above Renee’s clit, focusing more on the clitoral hood and the bone beneath rather than the oversensitive clit itself. When Britt did give that little piece of flesh her attention, it was all soft and wet, the flat of her tongue or the velvet of her mouth. She could be rougher elsewhere, and she was. As she pressed her fingers in circles above the clit, she began to give Renee a taste of her own actions, fucking Renee’s cunt with her tongue, and while the feeling was not quite as intense as she’d thought it was going to be, she still fell forward to brace her hands on the bed. Britt’s technique was so different than Grant’s, and the direction of her pleasure seemed to have found alternate routes so that when Renee’s orgasm came, it was unexpected, like going over a waterfall. Renee’s breath came out in short gasps as Britt drank the small rush of moisture.

  When the pleasure had passed, Renee lowered herself down beside Britt, tucked against her. They were facing the wrong way on the bed, with their feet near the pillow.

  “Your bed is not big enough for this,” Britt said. She was staring at the ceiling with a smile on her face. Her lips were wet, and Renee licked the moisture off with the tip of her tongue before settling back. Britt stroked Renee’s hair, combing through it.

  “You don’t say much, but you’re a quick learner, babe,” she muttered.

  Renee just hugged herself closer. She was starting to get a little cold, and they were not facing the right way to get under the quilts.

  “I’ll help you pack,” Britt said. “I’m not okay with it, but I can’t force you to stay. I mean, I could. We could tie you up inside the dog barn, drive Grant down south and stake him to a fire ant pile, but I don’t think you could ever forgive us for something like that.”

  “Seriously?” Renee asked. Sometimes she couldn’t tell dry humour from when her friends were being literal, and considering their intense and bordering-on-violent dislike for Grant, Renee was not quick to dismiss the threat.

  “No. But I’ve thought about it. On a fantasy level. I’d never really do it. I think. Anyway, I know there’s not much in the closet, but you never knew what to do with it anyway. I don’t know how, with over a decade of mainstream socialisation, you don’t know how clothes go together and I do.” She stood up from the bed and began rifling through Renee’s half of the closet.

  “You watch more movies,” Renee said. “Why do you want to help me? You don’t want me to go.”

  “It’s important to you,” Britt replied, not m
eeting her gaze. “And if you don’t come back in a week without calling us, I’ll get the National Guard to search every town outside Minneapolis. And this time, I’m being serious.”

  “I’ll bring the cell.”

  Britt began taking things out of the closet and putting them on the dresser. Renee wrapped the top quilt around herself and watched.

  “Do you know that Grant likes you?” Renee asked.

  Britt paused in her chore. “I know,” she replied. “I’m careful with him.” When Britt continued going through Renee’s clothes, Renee noticed that her hands were shaking. Renee furrowed her forehead. She was not sure what that meant—whether Britt was really afraid of Grant, or angry, or something else. Britt usually divulged everything to her, as much as Renee divulged very little. She was not used to fishing for clues how Britt felt or why she was feeling it.

  “Does he hurt you?” Britt asked, with her back turned to Renee.

  “No more than I hurt him.”

  “That’s not very reassuring, Red.”

  “What do you want to hear? That he’s a kind, caring, loving man? You know he’s none of those things,” Renee said. “I can’t gild him for you.”

  Britt turned around to look at her, dark eyes fierce. “He’s taking you to the largest pack this far north. If you think being with Grant is treading on the dark side… I think he wants to turn you.”

  “I know he does.”

  Britt raised her eyebrow in more than just a question, but a touch of horror.

  “He’s not going to turn me unless I want to be turned,” Renee said.

  “And do you want to be turned?”

  “I don’t know,” Renee replied.

  Britt dropped what she was holding onto the dresser top. “Is this the same kind of ‘I don’t know’ as wanting Grant?”

  Renee did not think she had ever seen Britt quite so mad at her before—angry, yes, but not at her.