Free Werewolf Romance Rough Sex Erotica: Make Her Howl by Michelle Fox

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    This is a work of fiction intended for adults age 18 and over. Minors should stop here and close the book.
    All events depicted are fictional. Characters are consenting adults. Any resemblance to places and persons, living or dead, is unintentional coincidence.
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    Make Her Howl
    I raised the wine bottle in a toast. “Happy twenty fifth birthday to me.” My living room was empty so no one answered or looked at me funny when I went on to say , “ And to being run out of town .” With a morose frown, I tipped the bottle back against my lips and let the fruity wine flood my mouth. Using a glass was an unnecessary formality when drinking alone.
    Taking another slug from the bottle, I contemplated my immediate future. Tomorrow I would load up a moving truck and go out to make my life among humans. Even though I wasn’t one. Technically. But those were the rules and I didn’t belong in Hunt s ville. Not anymore.
    A knock sounded at my door.
    “Pizza’s here,” I said. Talking to myself kept me from being lonely. I fumbled with my purse and extracted the requisite twenty. Flinging my front door open, I accepted the box from Peter. H e was seventeen with a lanky frame still waiting to fill out. He’d been my pizza guy for at least a year. “Thanks, Pete.” I offered the money.
    He held up his hands. “This one’s on me, M is s. Stark.” He looked at me with pity. He knew. Hell, they all knew. I was the talk of the town. Th e only null in four generations, and the horror that kept the paren ts of Huntsville up at night. T he frightful aberration they used to make children behave.
    Clean your room or you won’t change either .
    Eat yo ur peas or you’ll be homeless too .
    I blinked and swallowed back the bitterness. “Thanks.”
    “Good luck, Miss Stark.”
    “Luck has passed me by, Pete.” He didn’t k now what to say to that and shifted un comfortably, staring at his feet. I saved him further discomfort by slamming the door shut, and retreating into the living room with the pizza.
    I’d taken two bites when there another kn ock sounded at the door. I froze, my brow furrowed at the noise . The knock came again. I finished chewing and went to the door, irritation creeping up my spine.
    I flung the door open a little harder than I’d intended and it bounced off the wall, forcing me to keep it from closing with my hand. “What is it, Pete?” My tone was hostile.
    “Hell o Chloe.”
    I would never mistake that deep baritone for an adolescent pizza delivery boy.
    My breath caught in my throat and I looked u p, up and up to meet the gaze of Jackson Swift . Th ere are bad boys and there’s badass. Jackson was very much the latter. He’d moved to Huntsville at the invitation of the pack alpha. I’d given him wide berth because staying out of pack business was expected of me and a new wolf was definitely pack business .
    We’d worked together for a bit at the bar. I’d waitressed there ever since I was of age , and , six months ago , he sweet talked his way into bartending . I’d seen it happen. My boss, Sheila, had swooned like a flower in a wind storm. She was putty in his hands.
    Whenever we worked the same shift , h e’d watched me like h e was hungry and I was raw steak . It weirded me out , and I avoided him every chance I got. A few times he had even tried to talk to me, but I had just turned around and gone the other way , heat burning my cheeks . Soon whatever interest he had in me cooled and he’d focused his attention on Allison, the bar slu t. She went home with everyone.
    For the record, I never went home with anyone.
    Mostly because no one wanted me.
    “What are you doing here?” My eyes narrowed and I shifted my weight back, ready to step into the