On Rose's first official patrol for the National Park Service, she discovers an extremely rare, even mythical animal. The encounter is much more intimate than she had bargained for, but she soon develops a new appreciation for the joys of the outdoors.

Warning: This wild erotic story contains unstoppable werewolf lust, post-coital consent, and a dripping creampie.

Excerpt:

When Rose had finished her training, she headed out on her first patrol. Begrudgingly, she had put on the red booty shorts Vicki had given her, still suspecting she was about to be the butt of some unfortunate hazing prank. Her muscles stretched taut and showed her tight, round butt as she worked her way up the steep trails.

Was it her imagination, or did that warbler's song just make a cat call?

God, this place is weird, Rose thought.
She reached the fallen doug fir and climbed up again, a bit more gracefully this time. On a whim—and in spite of some professional standard of decorum, she was sure—Rose did some yoga on the tree trunk. A sun salutation, tree pose, mountain pose, with her arms up to the sky, stretching down to downward dog.

*WHAM*

The blow sent Rose tumbling head over heels along the log—had it been any smaller, she would have fallen several feet into the gravel streambed. Before she could recover or process what was happening, she felt a huge paw pushing her back into the trunk. Its claws dug into her back painfully, adding to the contusions and scrapes she'd received in the tumble.

The shock wore off and adrenaline kicked in. Her heart was pounding, air rushed in to her gasping lips, and she pushed as hard as she could against the paw on her back. She'd never been strong, but she mustered every reserve of force in her body to try to escape. Nothing. The wolf was too good to let his prey go so easily. Rose braced herself for mauling.

She felt its hot, heavy breath on the back of her neck, and, absurdly, giggled when its slobbery tongue licked the very ticklish nape of her neck—what the hell? Saliva dripped down her neck, across her chin, and joined her cheek where it was smushed into the bark.

The paw lifted, but before Rose could escape or even turn, it landed in the small of her back. The cold nose resumed its sniffing at her butt, nuzzling its way into the redolent, tight mound between her thighs. She heard the wolf inhale deeply.

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