Lyssa looks again at the lists from the other packs.
Severn had pared their list down to 12, nine of them male. She was pleased to see Nathan's name was on the list.
Aaron had offered several of his pack members to help keep track of things, break up disputes, provide security.
Randall had very specific instructions as to what they would have access to. They would simply provide a physical presence.
The Macy pack was sending five, three females, two males. The Alpha offered to bring the food for the introductory meal.
The Gates pack was indeed sending 11, a fairly balanced mix of male and females, and offered to provide some temporary shelter for the visitors.
Tucker was sending three and offered to help in the kitchens.
The Ross pack listed seven pack members and would help in moving things, whether food, individuals, or additional items for the gathering.
And Wyeth had five, including Erich, Roland, Joanna, Celia, and Martin. Lyssa briefly wondered why Thomas wasn't on the list, but then again, Stephanie wasn't either.
So, there were 43 unmated wolves going to be loose on the grounds, 38 from outside the pack.
OK. While still a lot of work, things were beginning to sound more manageable.
Joanna had gotten her invitations made and had filled them out for the Alphas of each of the five packs. Emmett would be dispatched to deliver them.
"Alright, Joanna, we've got the invitations done, the decorations figured out. We need to finish up with the food and the music."
Joanna had brought a listing of songs she wanted played at her party.
Lyssa looks down the list. While she knew most of the artists there were a few she was unfamiliar with. "You need to have a few slow songs, Jo, so that couples can dance together."
"There's a couple here that mates can dance to."
"I'm not talking about grinding, Joanna. Something slow that they can get close, hold each other, and sway to."
Joanna looks confused. "Like what?"
"Oh, Time in a Bottle. Kiss from a Rose. Stuff like that."
She wrinkles her nose. "It's my party."
"Don't whine. You're not 8, you're eighteen. I didn't say you had to change everything. The party will be hours long. It would please your guests if you include a few songs they would be familiar with."
Joanna huffs. "Alright."
"You have your dress figured out?"
"Oh, yeah, it should be here in another week or so." Her face lights up.
Lyssa contacts Calvin Ross again and Emmett makes a test of her fighting ability.
He sits in the center of the circle and she paces to one side of him.
[Why are you sitting there? We're supposed to be fighting.]
[Attack me.]
[Me? Aren't you supposed to come at me?]
[I'll teach you defense. But you'll surprise most males if you come at them. Show me what you got.]
[You're not even standing.] He can feel the irritation in her send.
[You won't even get a tooth on me.]
She launches herself at him, growling, mouth open. She was on her back with his jaws around her throat before she knew what had happened.
[Wrong idea, mate. I'm bigger than you.]
He lets her up and she growls in annoyance. She paces again and notices he's watching Erich walk up. She snarls and launches herself at him.
And finds herself on the ground again.
[If you're attacking from behind, don't broadcast your intent by snarling.]
He lets her up again as Samuel comes up beside Erich. She paces to one side watching him. Coming around him again, she quietly rushes him from behind. Aha!
At the last second, he moves, bowling her over.
She stands, panting, looking at him. He'd barely even moved.
She tries a couple of other things and kept ending up on her back.
[Don't let your annoyance get the best of you.]
Yeah, like that helped. She stalks up behind him, quietly. His ear flicks back; he heard her coming.
She comes closer, nips at his tail, and leaps back. He turns and she goes for him but he knocks her down again. [Better, mate. You're thinking now.]
She was tired, felt bruised, but she was damned if she'd let him be so smug.
So, she drops down before him, in a posture of play. [Lyssa...] And she runs, circling him once, twice. As she turns toward him she yells [HEY!]
He winces, and blinks, and she knocks him down.
A howl goes up from the dozen or so wolves gathered at the circle.
Lyssa yells, [Gotcha.] and takes off, out of the circle, through the assembled wolves.
She runs, into the woods, into the foggy dusk, chased by a large grey wolf.
She catches a glimpse of him to her right, and veers. He comes up behind her and nips at her hindquarters. [Good, mate. You have a weapon besides claws and teeth. Now, let me reward you.]
Putting on a burst of speed she throws back, [You'll have to catch me first.]
[Care to join them, my mate?]
[Actually, Ariel, I have something else in mind, if you will oblige me by shifting.]
A pale skinned, dark auburn haired woman stands beside a dark haired man. "And what did you have in mind?"
He grabs her, throws her over his shoulder, and heads for the house. "Patience, wife."
He hauls her into their bedroom and deposits her on the dark red satin sheets. She gets on her hands and knees, purring in anticipation.
He reaches for something under the bed.
"I'm ready for you, mate."
She certainly was, he could smell her.
"On your back, woman."
She complies, smiling and writhing seductively. "Arms above your head."
She raises her arms and he binds them with handcuffs and ties her wrists to the bedrail. "I don't intend on going anywhere."
"No. You won't." He then ties each ankle to a leg of the bed.
"Randall." He crawls up his mate's legs, inhaling deeply. She picks up her head and watches as his tongue extends toward her dripping pussy. He licks her, twice, then pulls away. "Randall?"
He disappears into their bathroom. "Randall?"
He can hear the irritation in her voice now. He returns with three items. Setting two on he floor beside the bed, he slides a towel under her behind. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Lyssa has given me an idea and I thought we might try it." He holds up a razor and a can of shaving cream. Her eyes go wide.
"I intend on shaving you naked."
She watches as he pumps a dollop of shaving cream into the palm of his hand. Before he proceeds, he looks into her eyes.
Hearing no protest, he slathers the cream over the dark reddish curls on her mound, over her outer lips. "That's cold."
He smiles. "It will warm. Now. Hold still."
After wiping his hands off on the towel he picks up the razor. He starts to move it to her lower lips then thinks better of the angle of approach. He moves from between her legs and straddles her waist, facing her feet. "This is an interesting view of you, Ran."
"Don't move, wife. I don't want to hurt you." The hardness of his erection presses into her belly.
He carefully holds her open, stroking the razor through the shaving cream between her thighs. It takes a bit more work than he expected. "There. I think that was the hard part."
The razor then makes fairly quick work of the hair on her mound.
A small strip remains atop her pubic bone, above her clitoral hood. "Well. This might be a bit tricky. Stay still."
Carefully, he works to remove the last of the coarse hair. "Oops. I'm sorry, Ariel. I've nicked you. Does it hurt?"
"Stings a little. Will you let me loose now?"
"Not yet. First, I'm going to wash you off, then I may just lick you until you don't know your own name."
He watches her rose colored nipples crinkle up. The aureoles on her breasts were large and contrasted nicely with her skin. He smells her juices again, no longer masked by the odor of the shaving cream.
He throws the towel on the bathroom floor and grabs a washcloth.
Randall wipes away all traces of the shaving cream from his mate's private parts, then throws the washcloth toward the bathroom.
"What do you think?"
"It doesn't feel any different."
"Let's see if that's true." He stands at the foot of the bed, surveying his handiwork, and noting the glistening sheen on his mate's labia.
Ariel looks down the bed at him. Her mate, these many years. Dark hair, green eyes. His skin, several shades darker than hers and crisscrossed with scars. The dark sprinkling of hair on his chest. The curled hairs his rigid manhood sprung from.
She licks her lips and looks up to his eyes. They're hungry, possessive.
Ariel writhes on the bed and thrusts her breasts up. A growl starts in Randall's chest. [I want you. Come to me.]
Slowly, he climbs onto the bed, eyes now latched onto her naked sex.
He inhales and frowns slightly. [What?]
[Your scent mixed with shaving cream.]
[Do something about it, then.]
Randall uses his fingers, running them over her lower lips, rubbing his palm across her stripped mound, then sniffs again. [Better.]
She watches as he closes on her, watches his mouth open, watches his tongue extend, then disappear from her sight as he strips her of some of her dew. [MMmm. Better still.]
Ariel twists, pulling against her bonds. [Touch me.]
He kisses her thighs and lightly runs his thumb across her clit. [Mmm. Yes. There.]
He backs off, stroking her wet folds. "Soft, so very soft, Ariel. Like velvet."
