Wild Ones: Prowl Read Free Page A

to give in as easy as falling off a log. That was no fun.
    The smaller wolf wrinkled his muzzle; the larger wolf sat up straight and barked.
    “You’ll see,” Lainey told them. “Stay outside. I’ll let you know when I’m good and ready.”
    Bolder than his companion, the larger wolf bounded up the stairs to butt Lainey’s legs with his head. He lapped at her hand, inviting her to scratch behind his ears, then turned around as quickly as he’d come to bound off into the wheat stalks.
    Lainey couldn’t hold back the laugh any longer as the pair of wolves romped away. She stretched her arms over her head, reaching for the setting sun and the waxing shapes of Leman’s moons.
    Call it instinct, but she had a feeling that this night was going to be one of the best of her life.
    * * *
    Homesteader’s law allowed Lainey to claim a cabin that’d been left behind. She supposed those who made the laws thought it was a joke. A little more indulgence of the women, and, she suspected, their way of discouraging those who might show them up.
    To be sure, the little cabin Lainey took for her own had been in bad shape. And? she’d asked, looking up at it. Nothing hard work can’t fix. She’d show them, and shown them she had. The hands she’d once kept so soft were roughened now from hard work and she’d tanned herself a deep brown, but never burned under Leman’s sun.
    Anyone who looked at Lainey’s cabin might think it shoddy, unless they looked a second time, and looked inside, and seen it in good-as-new shape. No, better than new. Lived in, and lived in well. Comfortable. Inviting. Like the world itself, these homey pine walls stained a warm dark hue seemed to enfold themselves around those who appreciated it.
    Lainey ran her hand down the walls of the front room, feeling the roughness of the wood beneath the firmness of her flesh, soaking up the sturdy pleasure of being here, savoring the thought of what was sure to come.
    Too bad she hadn’t brought in the tin washtub, but she had a smaller basin, a fresh dried sea sponge, and gentle soap made from saponin-rich flowers she’d harvested herself. She had a kettle big enough to fill the basin with hot water, and in two shakes she’d have a fire to place that over.
    She had other things, too. A soft crimson pillow to kneel on. A scarlet robe that caressed her bare skin when she shed her dusty work clothes. A ribbon to bind up her hair with and bare her shoulders.
    Lainey had been a successful courtesan -- successful enough to buy her way. She was the best, and not ashamed to admit it. She didn’t know if the wolves who were men would appreciate a show, but she did love to give one. It pleased her, if no one else, and she wanted to draw out the anticipation just a little more. Long enough to drive them all half mad with waiting and wanting.
    As she settled before the newly kindled hearth and waited for water to warm in the kettle, Lainey tipped her head to listen for signs of activity from the outside world. She thought… yes, there… she heard soft scuffling on her porch, the sound of tough paw pads on wood. Wolves sneaking to the one good glass window her home boasted and jostling for space to peek in.
    Nowhere near as subtle in their spying as they’d like to think they were, were they? The thought made Lainey’s smile soften and made her shiver with another peak of anticipation.
    The water took its sweet time to heat, but once Lainey poured it into the basin over the shredded soapbark, she was satisfied it’d been worth the wait. Curls of steam warmed her cheeks, the fragrance vaguely like chamomile and fresh-mown hay. Natural and gentle, no frou-frou about it, but feminine all the same.
    It was pure pleasure for Lainey to let the crimson robe slide off her shoulders to pool around her waist and to run the sponge over her breasts. Posed as she was, mostly in profile with her back turned to the window, the wolves wouldn’t be able to see more than a hint of the