The White Wolf Complete Saga

By JJ Jones

This is the COMPLETE collection of the epic paranormal romance White Wolf sage -- all FOUR books in one. Save 50% versus buying the individual books!

When Camille is asked out by the wealthy and mysterious Richard Marquis, she is warned by her girls that dating a white man will never work. However, she finds herself strangely drawn to his aura and she can not say no.

This is definitely going to be a new experience for Camille. Little does she realize, she is not only going to be dating a white man, but dating the white wolf that lives inside him as well.

What follows next is a devilish cocktail of sex, romance, action & adventure!

This Complete Saga Includes:
Dating The White Wolf
Return Of The White Wolf
The Kiss Of The White Wolf
The White Wolf Destiny

• Language: English
• Publisher: JJ Jones
• Release date: Jun 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781498929387

Book preview

THE WHITE WOLF:

COMPLETE

SAGA

BOOKS 1-4

An Interracial BWWM Paranormal Romance By..

JJ JONES

Summary

When Camille is asked out by the wealthy and mysterious Richard Marquis, she is warned by her girls that dating a white man will never work. However, she finds herself strangely drawn to his aura and she can not say no.

This is definitely going to be a new experience for Camille. Little does she realize, she is not only going to be dating a white man, but dating the white wolf that lives inside him as well.

What follows next is a devilish cocktail of sex, romance, action & adventure!

Copyright Notice

JJ Jones

The White Wolf Complete Saga © 2014, JJ Jones

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Contents

#1 Dating The White Wolf

#2 The Return Of The White Wolf

#3 The Kiss Of The White Wolf

#4 The White Wolf Destiny

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#Book1

DATING THE

WHITE WOLF

#Chapter1

Chapter1

How’s your sex life?

Camille checked her watch as she stepped out of her parked car onto the busy sidewalk.  It was just before noon, which meant she was late for her luncheon date with Jackie and Moesha.  She sighed and quickly used her Nissan’s side mirror to check her hair and makeup.  Some of her curly brown locks had fallen across her forehead but her eyeshadow was still in place.  Using a dark pinky to touch up her lipstick, she declared herself perfect.

Smiling at herself and rolling her eyes she stood up in time for someone to whistle at her.  She turned to see a guy in a business suit walking by with an appreciative smile.  She pursed her lips and turned away.  She thought the guy was cute, for a white man, but the bad comb over and the stuffy clothes did nothing for her.  She needed a man who could let loose and relax.  Someone who knew how to have fun.

Of course, she knew in her tight blue jeans and her purple top she was worth every whistle she might get, even from guys whistling at her ass when she was bent over the mirror of her car.  Her trim, athletic body had always been what Tony said he liked most about her. Until Tony broke up with her for a nineteen year old.  Camille was twenty-one last month, and apparently that was too old for him.  Screw him, she thought for the millionth time.  If she wasn’t good enough for him, then forget him.

She sighed again as she opened the door to the little coffee house and café where she was going to meet the girls.  She wished she could forget Tony.  She wished her nights weren’t filled with dreams of how he used to pet her with his hands, kiss up her neck and lick down her belly...

The door opened in front of her as someone came out of the building, bringing her mind back to the here and now.  She couldn’t let a man define her.  She was a strong, confident woman.  She didn’t need a man.

But, oh...she so did.

Jackie and Moesha sat at a little round table with tall stools over in the corner, already sipping at oversized cups of steaming hot coffee.  Jackie flashed her a smile that displayed perfect, even teeth that had been whitened to an unnatural brightness against her dark mocha skin.  Her hair was dyed blonde today.  Last week it had been a red that would match the color of her dress.  She was a thin woman, elegant and always looking like she belonged in the pages of Essence or Uptown magazine.

Next to her, Moesha leaned over and whispered something into Jackie’s ear that made both women giggle.  Good old Moesha.  She was lighter skinned than either Camille or Jackie, wearing a white t-shirt and ripped jeans that flashed a good amount of leg.  Her huge hoop earrings swung and caught the light in sparkling flashes.  Her dark, oversized sunglasses slid down a thin nose, revealing light brown eyes full of humor.

What’s got you so giddy? Camille asked as she sat down in the third stool at the table.  You win the lotto when I wasn’t looking?

No, girl, Moesha said, I was just saying how you is always late.  Good to see you, sister.

You too.  Camille leaned over to give her friend a quick hug.  It’s been too long since we did this.

Jackie looked down at her long, red-painted nails.  That’s what happens when you let a man dictate your social schedule.

So much for forgetting about Tony for a while, Camille thought to herself.  Well.  That won’t happen no more.  Tony and I split up last week.

We heard, girl. We got Facebook y'know.  Moesha turned her coffee cup on the table.  Don’t let the man bother you.  He always thought with his little head instead of his big one.

Camille shifted in her seat.  Can we talk about something else?

Sure, Moesha said with a wink as she took off her sunglasses.  How’s your sex life?

They laughed together and managed to turn the discussion to everyone’s jobs instead.  Jackie was looking at maybe being promoted to administrative secretary at the law office she worked for.  Moesha was still in between jobs, as she put it.  Camille was happy for her friends.  Her work at the bank was menial and boring.  The best she could say about it was that it was steady work.

I’m going to get myself a coffee, Camille said to her friends after a while.  Should we order food now, too?

I’m not really hungry yet, Jackie told her.  Let’s just sit for a while.  It’s a beautiful Saturday.  We got nowhere to be, right?

Speak for yourself, Moesha told her.  I got a date for dinner.

So? Jackie joked with her.  It’s not like you gonna be eating.  The poor man will go home starving.

I’ll make sure to keep his mouth busy, Moesha said with a wink.

Camille rolled her eyes as she turned away with a smirk.  Subtlety had never been Moesha’s strong suit.  She was one of those people who were always honest about their feelings.  Camille could always count on Moesha to be herself.  She appreciated that in a friend.

Walking up to the counter to get in line she passed a man at the center island where the sugar and cinnamon and little plastic cups of liquid flavorings were kept.  He turned as she passed, breathing in deeply through his nose.  He sighed like he’d smelled something delicious.  Raising his Styrofoam to-go cup, he smiled directly at Camille.  Good coffee, he explained.

Camille almost missed a step.  She recognized the man.  Tall and broad chested, the blue v-neck shirt he wore defined the muscles of his arms and his trim waist.  He was blue-eyed and the California sun hadn’t added any color to his lily-white skin.  His face was ruggedly handsome with a strong jaw and a five o’clock shadow that some guys could not carry off so easily.

She turned away, holding her breath.  That was Richard Marquis.  Here, in this little café of all places.  Marquis was a local celebrity and a household name across America.  His pharmaceutical company was responsible for some of the more popular household drugs.  She even had a few in her medicine cabinet back in her apartment.  Aspirin, and a multivitamin supposedly formulated just for women.  Romulus Pharmaceuticals: making your life better is our only goal.  That’s what their commercials said, anyway.

Marquis hardly ever came out in public on his own.  The few times that she had ever seen him was in the bank where she worked, he was always surrounded by his people.  Accountants, bodyguards, and who knew what else.

Honey, you want somethin’ or you just holdin’ up the line for the fun of it?

Camille blinked.  The cashier, an older black woman with pencils stuck through her hair, stood with a fist on her hip, and Camille realized it was her turn to order.  Uh, yeah.  Sorry.  She gave the woman her order and waited until the cappuccino was handed to her.  She turned to the island counter, hoping for a few sprinkles of cinnamon.

Richard Marquis was still there seemingly waiting for someone.  He was slowly stirring his coffee, the cap off and two plastic stir straws in his long fingers.  She tried to keep her eyes away from him as she reached for the cinnamon shaker.  That was why she hadn’t realized he had moved until he was standing right next to her.

Do I know you? he asked her.

Camille felt heat rising in her cheeks.  No, she said after a moment.  I mean, I’ve seen you before.  You’ve seen me, I mean.  Um.  Damn.  She was never tongue-tied.  Ever.  But this man was beautiful in the flesh.

Hm.  His voice was amused.  That really doesn’t answer much.

She glared up at him.  Something funny?

His eyes danced.  Funny?  No.  I was being serious.  Your face is familiar but very, very pretty.

Camille saw she’d poured way too much cinnamon into her drink and thumped the container down harder than she’d meant to.  You always hit on women in coffee shops, Mister Marquis?

Actually, no.  Marquis put the cap back on his coffee cup, calmly, slowly, all manly confidence.  Do you always get mad at men who try to talk to you?

He turned away before Camille could say anything else.  She took a deep breath, telling herself she was not attracted to Richard Marquis in the least.  She could say it to herself over and over, but damn.  There was some kind of special aura around him that had made her react to him, and no doubt about it.

She watched him go off to an empty table and sit, sipping at his coffee, staring at her with a little smile as he pulled out his iPhone and began scrolling through.  A shiver went through her and she had to turn away before she could breathe again.

That was weird, she said to herself.  Definitely not unpleasant, though.  Then she had another thought.  Why did he get his coffee in a Styrofoam cup, when he wasn’t leaving?

Back at the table, the girls were watching her as she sat down again.  What? she asked them.

He spoke to you, Jackie said in a loud whisper.

Girl, Moesha added, he never speaks to nobody. Ever!

Camille looked at them.  Wait, you two knew he would be here?

Jackie nodded with a smile and a surreptitious glance over in his direction.  Every Saturday, regular like clockwork.

Why do you think we come to this place? Moesha asked her.  Because the scenery is fi-ine.

She wasn’t looking at Richard Marquis when she said it, though.  She was looking at a male busboy with skin like roasted almonds and a face like Vin Diesel’s.  Camille arched an eyebrow at her friend.

Hey, don’t look at me like that.  Moesha lifted her sunglasses up.  Her eyes were hungry.  You see that ass?  Mmm.  Bet you he isn’t gentle.

Moesha! Camille said, trying to be scandalized, but giggling uncontrollably instead.

They talked for more than an hour, catching up with each other’s lives and making promises to meet again like this next Saturday.  It felt good to Camille to be with her friends again and not worry about whether Tony was going to be mad at her for not rushing home.  She never glanced at her watch once.  His loss, she thought at one point.  This time she could let herself believe it.  Good riddance to him.

Moesha’s stomach rumbled loudly.  She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes wide, and they broke out laughing again.  Well, I can’t be expected to stare at men’s behinds without food, right? she asked.

You tell it, girl, Jackie agreed, picking up her clutch purse.  I know this great Italian place.

Spaghetti? Moesha asked loudly.  You want me to eat spaghetti when I’m this hungry?  Uh-uh.  No way.  I need real food.  We need to get this girl some chicken and some fries, is what we need to do.

Excuse me, he said as Camille stood up from his stool.  She startled.  She hadn’t heard him come over.  Richard Marquis stood very close, towering over her, smiling in a way that was very attractive.

Uh, Jackie and me is gonna be outside, okay Camille? Moesha said to her.  She didn’t wait for an answer before she grabbed Jackie by her elbow and hissed at her to shut up as she steered them both away from the table and to the exit door.

Camille glared at her friends for abandoning her with this man even though she really didn't mind.  There was something about him, an attraction she couldn’t deny.  Those piercing eyes, that amazing body.  It was more than that, though.  It was like his aura was magnetic.  Like it was drawing her into him.  She didn’t want to pull away.

I wanted to apologize for earlier, he was saying to her.  I was rude.

Rude?  Was he?  She tried to remember what they had said to each other.  Don’t, uh, don’t worry about it.  I should go.  My friends are waiting.

Even though she said it, she didn’t make any attempt to move from the spot where she stood.

I don’t usually approach women.  He breathed in deep again and the flush she had felt earlier spread over her whole body, her senses awakening subtly, sight and touch and...smell.  His eyes were dilated as he went on.  There’s something about you, though.  Something special.  I can tell.

Mister Marquis—

Richard, he corrected her.

She swallowed.  What had she been about to say?  Looking up into his eyes, feeling the tension between them, she couldn’t remember.  Richard, I...  Damn.  If she was this worked up just standing next to him, what would it be like to have him touch her, have his fingers gently stroke her cheek, slide down her shoulder, caressing the bare flesh of her arm and then stroking across her belly...

Oh, damn.  She swallowed again and managed to put two thoughts together.  I need to go meet my friends.

Yes.  I suppose so.  He smiled, and it was clear that he was disappointed.  I’d like to see you again.  I hope that’s not too forward?

She should tell him no.  She knew that.  Instead she shook her head, her tongue licking her bottom lip.

He watched her intently for a moment.  Then, from his pocket, he pulled a slim white card.  My number is on this.  My personal number.  Call me.

She took the card.  Then he turned, and walked away.

He was ten steps away before Camille felt like she could breathe again.

Wow!

Chapter2

Maybe he thinks I will be an easy lay?

It was the next day when Camille worked up the nerve to call the number on the card.  A man with a painfully British accent answered, explaining that he was the personal assistant to Mr Richard Marquis.  Apparently, Mr. Marquis was busy, and could not at that moment be disturbed, the man said.

Camille left her name and number and hung up, feeling like a foolish school girl.

It wasn’t five minutes later when her phone rang.

She picked the handset up from its cradle and thumbed the green answer button.  Hello?

I’m glad you called me back, Camille.

His voice was strong and deeply masculine even over the phone.  She sat down on her apartment’s black leather sofa, stretching out, eyes narrowing, not sure what she was getting herself into here.  I, um, I’m glad too.  I mean, it’s not every day that I run into someone as famous as you.

He went silent, and Camille understood instinctively that she had said the wrong thing. You don't tell famous people that they are famous!  She could hear his slow breathing and after a long moment when she was sure that he was going to hang up on her, he finally spoke again.  There are a lot of women whom I’ve met that knew exactly who I was and what I was worth.  I was hoping my reputation had escaped you.

No.  I know who you are, Mister Marquis.

Richard, he prompted.

She tripped over her own words.  She felt flustered and embarrassed to even be speaking to him over the phone.  You’re way too famous for me not to know you.

And yet, I think I’ve met you somewhere before.

Um.  Well.  Anyway, I just don’t understand why you picked me to give your phone number to.  You know?

She could hear him moving around, shuffling papers or something, before he answered her.  I told you, Camille.  There’s something special about you.  I don’t go around trying to pick up every woman I meet.  You are the rare exception. You have such a unique look..

His words sent a thrill down her spine and prickling across her skin.  Why?

Meet me for dinner.  I’ll show you how special you are.

Dinner?  Oh, Camille, she thought to herself.  What are you getting yourself into?

Yes.  I’m asking you out to dinner.  Surely you’ve been asked out on dates before?

She tried to laugh but it came out as a cough.  Tony had been her last serious boyfriend, a long term mistake that had eaten up almost two years of her life.  It had left a bitter taste in her mouth when it came to men and hadn’t she just been telling herself yesterday how she didn’t need to go hunting for another man yet?

He spoke her name and she realized she hadn’t answered him yet.  She might not need a man, but she’d be stupid to turn down a date with Richard Marquis.  Rich, handsome, influential and the desire of every woman around with a pulse.

Herself included.

Yes, she heard herself say.

He was quick to pounce on her answer.  Excellent.  I’ll pick you up at six, then.

There was no taking her answer back now.  She’d said yes to a date with one of the most eligible bachelors in California.  Possibly in the country.  Six is fine, she told him, finding her voice again.  After all, he was just a man, right?  Wait, where are we going?  Upscale?  Downtown?

He laughed softly.  I only do upscale.

The soft click on the line told her he had hung up.  She put the phone back, then stood there, staring at it.  What had she just agreed to?

A date.  She was going on a date.  Not with some guy from work or random stranger from a bar.  No.  This was the one and only Richard Marquis.  She combed her fingers into her long curly hair, like she always did when she was nervous, and tried to smile.

Well, she said to her empty apartment, he was the one asked me.

Checking the blue plastic clock up on the wall above the television she saw the time.  Just after three-thirty in the afternoon.  She’d better start getting ready.

***

After a long shower, she eyed herself in the mirror.  Her breasts glistened with water.  Her eyes followed her flat stomach and the curves of her hips down to her cleanly shaven cleft.  She nodded.  That fool Tony threw away a good thing.  Tonight, she was going to put herself back out there and see where it went. It had been a while after all...

She laughed at herself as she toweled off, calling herself every sort of stupid.  Marquis was a rich man, and white on top of that.  The chances of him wanting anything to do with a middle income black woman like herself were slim and none.

Then how come he asked her out to dinner? What could he really want? Maybe he thinks I will be an easy lay?

That thought echoed in her mind, and she found that she had no answer for it.  Still, it couldn’t hurt for her to have a little fun, even if Mister Richard Marquis would probably blow her off after tonight.

She pushed through the clothes in her closet until she found what she was looking for.  A slinky black dress with rhinestone accents along the shoulder straps and the top of the low-cut neckline.  Perfect.

In just her panties and nylons, she stepped back to the bathroom and hooked the dress onto the back of the door.  Makeup first.  A little blue eyeshadow.  Deep red lipstick.  She hesitated, then decided that was all she needed.  Her beauty was a simple kind.  It worked best when it wasn’t too heavily made up.

Slipping into the dress carefully now, adjusting the cups and the way it fell across her hips, she looked into the mirror again.  Quite the transformation.  From Camille the bank employee to Camille, temptress of the night.  Her little smirk was full of the confidence she only sort of felt.  Twisted silver hoop earrings lay on the sink top and she put them into the first hole of each ear.  After fifteen minutes or better touching up her hair, it was nearly six.

Just in time, she told her reflection.

Her apartment building was on the south side of the city, and it wasn’t exactly the high rent district.  Stepping out of her apartment, making sure to lock the deadbolt behind her, she was suddenly aware of every person she passed staring at her.  A woman dressed like she was, in this neck of the woods, was easy prey for every hustler, con man, and hit artist out there.  In fact, she only had one dress like this in her closet for that very reason.  She felt exposed, vulnerable, like she was little red riding hood lost in the woods and any second the big bad wolf was going to pounce.

She blinked as the stray thought passed through her head.  Truth was, ever since yesterday at lunch, she’d been thinking about things like that more and more.  Wolves, and prey, and this feeling she couldn’t shake that she was being stalked and hunted.

The weirdest part was that she enjoyed the feeling.

Did it have something to do with Richard Marquis?  How could it, really?  He was just a man.  A man on the prowl, certainly, a man who probably wanted to corner her and possess her.

She trembled as a thrill went through her.  Just maybe she wanted that same exact thing.

Out on the front stoop of the building, the usual lowlifes were sitting on the steps and hanging out on the sidewalk.  One of them, a fat man with a fat face and eyes that were permanently red from the booze he drank all the time, whistled at her as she came out.  Wow wow wow, Camille.  Where you goin’?

Rolling her eyes, she clutched her purse tighter and tried to look intimidating although she doubted it was working in the slinky dress.  Buzz off, Eddie.  I got a date.

Some of the other guys jeered and laughed, making cat-calls and rude comments.

Then suddenly, they all stopped.  Every one of them, at the same time.  A limousine pulled up to the curb right in front of her building, stopping in a red tow-away zone.  All eyes were on the black Cadillac.  Even Eddie had lost his voice.

The rear passenger door on the curb side opened and Richard Marquis unfolded himself out of the back.  He wore a white, open front blazer over a black dress shirt, and his dark slacks looked like they were painted on him, tightly outlining the muscles of his thighs and his ass.

Camille caught herself staring and turned her face away, biting her lip.

Marquis stepped right up to her, ignoring everyone else around them.  Right on time, I see, he said to her in that smooth, alluring voice.  Shall we go?

You goin’ out with this guy? Eddie blurted out, his words slurred and his breath reeking of whatever cheap whiskey he’d been sucking from.  This white pansy?

Camille saw something flash in Marquis’ eyes.  She saw the way his body subtly shifted into a posture that spoke of coiled anger.  She found herself taking a step back before she realized.  Suddenly everyone found some other place to be.  Everyone, except Eddie.

Hello, Marquis said to the shorter, pudgy man with a smile that left the rest of his face stony.  I’m Richard Marquis.  I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.

Ain’t no pleasure for me, white trash!  You come down to our neighb’hood and try to take our bitches like you the high and mighty hisself—urp!

Eddie was suddenly unable to talk as he found Marquis’ hand tightly squeezing around his throat.  He pushed the man up against the brick wall of the building.

Then he lifted Eddie up until his scuffed up brown shoes hung inches off the sidewalk.

Do not, Marquis growled, call her a bitch.  She is a lady.  You will respect her.

He leaned in closer to the man’s face.  And you will respect me.

Somewhere between nodding his head and trying to gurgle a response, Eddie passed out.

Marquis left him crumpled to the sidewalk.  Panting through his wide nostrils, his eyes fierce, he turned to Camille.  She thought she should shrink away.  She thought she should run back up to her apartment and lock all five of her locks.

Instead, she was strangely turned on.

She loved a man who could take care of himself and protect her and she had always hated Eddie and his gang so she felt no sympathy. They were a disgusting bunch of people.

He stood close to her, close enough for her to smell his cologne, spiced and musky, as she looked up into those eyes.  They were a strange color, grayish blue with flecks of silver in them.  Sorry if that upset you, he said, still in a growl. I just can not stand men that do not respect women.

No, she said slowly.  Her voice was husky and she swore she heard herself purr.  That was...um.  She couldn’t finish her thought.  For a moment, the only two people in the whole world were her, and Richard Marquis.

And the world moved.

He reached out and pulled a stray strand of hair away from her cheek, placing it back behind her ear.  On impulse she turned her face into his hand and breathed him in.

Wide eyed, Camille stepped back, shocked at her behavior.  She was never this forward.  She cleared her throat and went to separate from him by putting her hand to his chest and pushing back.  Electricity tingled her fingertips when she did.

Wow.

Shall we go? he asked her suddenly, his face normal again as though she had imagined the fire in his eyes and the hunger in his gaze.

Yes.  That would be...yes.  The world righted itself again and she was back on her street in front of her apartment as he held the door to his limousine open for her.  She’d never ridden in a limousine before.  Well.  That wasn’t exactly true.  Prom night in eleventh grade a bunch of her girlfriends had scraped enough money together to rent one.  That thing had been run down and cramped and it had smelled like mildew and spilled beer, but the girls and her had spent the time of their lives in it that night.

Marquis’ limo was nothing like that at all.  It was all dark blue leather interior with plush carpeting on the floor and two bench seats facing each other across a wide expanse.  A mini bar was settled against the wall opposite the door, and a small flat screen television sat on top of it.  The security screen between them and the driver was up, dark and opaque, giving the illusion that they were in a private room as the car pulled gently away from the curb and into traffic.

Something to drink? he asked her, settling into the seat next to her.  She crossed her legs and lay back against the plush leather with her eyes closed and dreamed that someday this might be her life for real, not just as some rich man’s date.

Mmm.  I’d like that, she told him.  Should we, though?  I mean, before dinner?

When she opened her eyes again he was staring right at her and she felt her heart do the same flip flops it had before when he had touched her face and pierced her soul with those eyes.

Those eyes.

Without meaning to, she found herself leaning into him, across the seat so that she had to put her hand down to steady herself, like