Chapter 85

We fucked again when we got up. I swear Sasha tasted worse this morning when Quinn wasn't so present in her pussy. Not that she tasted bad either way. Then we all went for another run and ate a quick breakfast. Mom missed the run, but she made it to breakfast.

"I've never been fucked like that in my life," Mom said. "I'm not sure I can walk right. Sasha, you are one lucky lady."

Sasha smiled at her. "I know."

"Are you going to tell Dad that, because I don't think that's a good idea," I said.

"I suppose not. I can't believe how good he was."

"One hundred thirty, plus years of practice, Mom. You practice that long, you're going to be a good fucker too. I imagine your father is that good. He seduced your mother fifty some years ago and look how much longer he's been practicing since?"

I collected the rest of the ladies after breakfast, and we headed out. Mom and Brigitte were in the first seat, Dani and Lisette in the second, and Gretchen and I were all the way in the back, cuddling and kissing a little. All of the women had no complaints about their sex last night.

Dani held up her phone. "I'm going to watch Carl stroke out a couple as I show him how I got fucked last night. Maybe I'll even let him fuck me when it's over. Of course, I'll have to tell him I can't even feel him inside of me after Rafiki fucked me last night."

"Maybe you should have a mold made of his cock and make a dildo of it so Carl can ply you with another man's cock?" I said.

"Damn, Jess. That's a wonderful idea. I'll call Rafiki later and see if he's willing. Then I'll have Carl suck him hard so I can make the mold."

"How was Quinn, Ingrid?" Brigitte asked.

"The sex was good, but I expected better. He seemed distracted, like his mind was elsewhere."

Brigitte looked at me. Why look at me? What did I do?

"How did you fare, Gretchen?" I asked.

"Great. I think she's the equivalent of a wolf lesbian. I know she has to fuck cocks, but she prefers pussy, like me. I didn't think anyone could lick pussy like Brigitte, but she did."

"Ahh," Brigitte laughed. "I have to try harder now."

"What was her name?" I asked.

"Lenore."

"Maybe we can invite her over after our road trip, before you go home?"

"That would be lovely, thank you. How did you do, Mrs. H?" Gretchen asked.

"Mmm, mmm, good," Mom laughed. "I don't even think I should tell Simon how good I was fucked. It's sure to give him a complex."

"That's the difference between our men, Anita," Dani laughed. "I want to give my fiancé a complex. It's part of the fun for me."

"As soon as we get home, we need to pack for our road trip. We're going to go to Quinn's and spend the night tonight," I said. "His home is on the way to our first stop tomorrow, Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park, so we'll get an early jump on the day."

"Are you going to forgive him, Jessica?" Gretchen asked quietly.

"I don't know," I replied honestly, also softly. "Sometimes I wish I could just hate him and let it go at that. Other times, I'm not sure."

Gretchen squeezed my hand. I squeezed hers back, then kissed her.

"I'm pretty fucked up, aren't I?"

"Maybe."

"Why maybe?"

"I think I could forgive almost anything you ever did to hurt me," Gretchen said.

"Ah, Gretch. I'm so sorry."

"Que sera, sera, Jessica. We can't help who we love."

"You don't think I love the asshole, do you?"

"If anyone else had done what he's done, would we even be having this conversation?"

I thought about that for ten seconds or so.

"Ahh, fuck!" She kissed me again.

When we got home, I started packing. Mom and Dad had to fuck first.

"What's that all about?" I asked Brigitte as we packed a bag.

"They're reminding themselves how much they love each other, despite having sex with other people last night."

"Oh. Well, that's okay then."

******

We stopped for food on the way to Quinn's. I'd told him it would be sometime in the afternoon. I didn't want him having to fix us food as soon as we got there. The wolves scarfed down a lot of burgers, bypassing the buns. It was more cooked than they preferred, but what the hell. A wolf has to do what a wolf has to do, and they were outnumbered, four to three.

Quinn welcomed us when we arrived at two. He offered wine, which my parents took, and we all went out onto his deck overlooking the rocky coastline below. I introduced him to them, and vice versa. He nodded politely to Ingrid, having spent the night with her.

"I can see why you love it in Maine, Jessica," Dad said. "This is similar to Rhinelander except you have an ocean instead of a lake. You have a lovely home, Quinn."

"Thank you. I like it. Jessica said that you're Gerhard's daughter, Anita?"

"It certainly appears so. My mother died in child birth and I never met her. Gerhard showed me some pictures of the woman he'd impregnated, and it looked exactly like me when I was younger. My birthday, and her death date are the same, and from the same hospital, plus the werewolf adoption agency was used for my adoption."

"I can certainly see where Jessica gets her beauty," Quinn said. "Even now, you're a beautiful woman, and in excellent shape. You must exercise."

"I'm a runner like Jessica, plus I play tennis."

"Do you like venison?" Quinn asked.

"I'm not sure," Mom replied. "I'm not sure I've ever had it. Jessica raved about your venison stew. Is that what we're having tonight?"

"I thought venison steaks," Quinn said. "It's easier feeding the wolves rawer meat."

"Where do you buy your venison?" Dad asked.

"I don't. I hunt it myself, as a wolf. Since I'm a tracker for the pack, I need to maintain my skills."

"You've got a scar. You're the first wolf I've ever seen with a scar," Mother said.

"A misunderstanding with Brigitte regarding her mate," Quinn replied politely.

"I think I heard something about that when Jessica was visiting us," Mom said. "You'd wanted to mate with Brigitte yourself?"

Quinn's eyebrows went up.

"That was before we knew the true story, mother," I said. "Quinn believed that Brigitte's mate, Phillipe, was responsible for the death of his intended, Adriana. The evidence he had suggested that Adriana died due to Phillipe's cowardice, but he had no proof. He began fucking Brigitte to see if Phillipe would fight for her. It took for Phillipe to become a laughingstock because Quinn was fucking her more than her mate was, before he fought for her.

"Quinn didn't intend for Phillipe to die, but he was going to keep hurting him until Phillipe realized he could fight even when hurt or injured. Then Brigitte told him to shift and tossed him a silver knife. Phillipe was going to cut Quinn's throat with it, so Quinn ripped out his throat. Most wolves can't recover from that before bleeding out. Quinn finally explained why things happened as they did. They've reached rapprochement regarding their differences."

"I'm so sorry, Quinn," Mother said. "That had to be devastating to you to lose your mate."

"It was. This is the first time I can remember when I wasn't longing for her."

"Find a new girl, then?" Mom asked, having missed the quiet conversation in the back of the SUV.

"I'm not sure. I hope so. I've made a lot of mistakes with her. I'm hopeful though."

He couldn't help looking at me. Mom noticed and said, "Jessica? She hates you."

"With good reason, I suspect. I hope to change her mind."

"But you're a wolf! She's human."

"I'm well aware."

"She'll die long before you do."

"Sometimes, we don't have a choice in who we love. Why hasn't Gerhard ever mated? Could it be he never found anyone he loved as much as your mother, human or not?"

Mom looked at him, then me. "I wish you luck."

"I'll take any luck I can get."

We enjoyed the afternoon out on the deck. It was a beautiful day, late summer, not too hot near the ocean with an ocean breeze blowing over the water. Quinn had a grill on the deck and he started grilling the venison steaks around five. After getting them started on one side, he went into the house and got a foil package of veggies he threw on the grill with the steaks. He cooked the four steaks bloody rare for the wolves, and the steaks for us medium well.

"You need to cook venison a little longer than beef, as it needs to reach a certain interior temperature for human consumption. Deer don't have the advantage of the antibiotics steers get."

"It's a little sweet," Dad said, having a bite.

"I use a molasses bourbon rub to counteract the gaminess of the meat," Quinn said. "It took a lot of experimentation to learn how humans prefer it."

During supper, Quinn told us some of his tracking stories, staying away from the one that killed Adriana.

"I'm going to track a couple rogues on Monday, who bothered Ingrid when you arrived," Quinn said.

"Will there still be a scent to find after five days?" I asked "Scent isn't the only method of tracking," Quinn said. "It's just the easiest. I've got other methods as well. All animals leave other trails."

"What will you do if you find them?" I asked.

"Probably kill them," he said. "It's better than being locked up. It depends."

"Could you do me a favor, Quinn?" I asked.

"What's that?"

"Could you ask them why they are the way they are. It seems to me that perhaps other wolves need a chance at redemption. Don't kill them unless they give you an answer you can't accept."

He looked at me. "I'll ask."

"Thank you."