Read Online Werewolf Sings the Blues by Jennifer Harlow - Free Book Online Page B

on mine, him stretching me apart as I writhe against him. Damn, I’m wet already. It’s decided then. Before we reach Maryland, I’m gonna ride that man like a rollercoaster.
    The question though is how best to go about seducing him. I wonder what his type is. Flighty and sweet? Damsel in distress? Strong and take charge? Of course he could be gay. Or married. Hell, come to think of it, I don’t know a fucking fact about him. Not even his last name. Not that I get the last names of a lot of the men I sleep with, but still. Might help to know these things for the seduction, if not just in general. The more I know the better I’ll be able to play him in any given situation. You can’t adapt if you don’t know the environment.
    As I’m culling together an interrogation list, his cell phone rings. All that survived our great escape was what he had on him: wallet, cell phone, and Glock with an extra clip. Blondie stirs and opens his eyes on the third ring.
    â€œHello?” he croaks before listening to the person on the other end. “Hey, Tate, what’s going on? Is everything alright?” He listens. “Thanks. Appreciate it. It’s good to hear your voice too. How are things there?” Silence as he listens for a full minute. “No, you, Adam, and whoever can stay at my place as long as you need. Sounds cramped at the main house.” More silence. “Yeah, ran into some trouble. No question.” He’s quiet, then glances at me. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.” I believe my ears are burning. “Yeah.” He listens. “Don’t know. Think we’re still in Utah on 15 going to 80?” He glances at me, and I nod. “Yeah, probably two days if we don’t stop.” Silence, then he glances at me again. It could be the setting sun, but I do believe his cheeks are turning as pink as his lips. “That is not going to happen.” His mouth sets vice tight. “I’m not you.” Quiet. “I’m hanging up now if—” Silence for a few seconds. “That may be required. Thank you for the offer. I have to go. Talk to you later. Bye.” He ends the call.
    â€œYour boyfriend okay?” I ask.
    â€œM-My what?”
    â€œBoyfriend. Call sounded a little naughty is all. I mean, no judgment here. I live in Southern California, I know more gay people than straight.”
    â€œI’m not gay,” Jason says, slipping the phone back in his pocket. “Tate is my friend.”
    â€œOh. My mistake.” One question ticked off. “So, what’s going on in war-torn Maryland?”
    â€œLockdown. The majority of the pack who live within a hundred miles have reached the compound. Families are still arriving though. It’s chaos. They’re having to set up tents outside, RVs on the lawn. Over forty men, women, and children in a house with ten bedrooms.”
    â€œHow many werewolves does my fa— Frank have?”
    â€œWe’re thirty-two strong, spread from Maine to Florida. The Eastern Pack is responsible for all werewolf activity from the Mississippi River to the Atlantic.”
    â€œAnd only thirty?”
    â€œThere’s an estimated hundred fifty werewolves in America. Not all are pack because they haven’t made themselves known or did not want to join.”
    â€œOnly a hundred fifty in all of America?”
    â€œWe were once much more, thousands even, but the hunters and witch finders brought us close to extinction. Like the true witches, our ancestors fled to the wilds of Russia, Canada, and the United States, and built from there.”
    â€œHow did you become one? Is it like the movies? Do you have to be bitten?”
    â€œNo, my father was a werewolf. You are either born one or the curse can be transmitted through fluid exchange while in wolf form, when there is a higher concentration of the magic and virus. Most who are attacked fail to