“Ah, she is a real sweetie Harley. Riding her is so damn fine. I can feel her purring between my legs from the moment I mount her.”
Gil stopped dead in his tracks as he pushed the double kitchen door open. Three days in squirrel form was bad enough, now he had to listen to Louie gush loudly about some dame. Christ, his artistic aberration attack had gossip flying all over town. Hell the new dishes and haute cuisine werestyle had more shifters coming in than Katie could handle alone. A few had taken up eating at the bar. At least the tips were good. Scrubbing blood and guts off the varnished wood nightly was getting old real fast. Recently some drunk had tried to chomp on the bar. How did you get teeth marks out of wood?
“Yes Harley riding her over and over is ssssooooo fucking good.” Louie’s laughter echoed in the kitchen. “Oh, yeah I can’t wait to get her into overdrive. She really begins to buck then.”
Gil swallowed hard. What was Harley doing on the phone with Louie? Had Harley lost his mind? Talking about Mary like that. Or was he---oh shit he better not be cheating on her. Ms. Elly and kin would have his pork butt roasted and sliced before he could ride his hog bike out of town.
“Damn Harley, you getting the same reaction too? Ain’t it glorious? You know we need to take our babes for a sweet ride together. You know enter the contest and see who comes first.” Louie’s voice grew quiet. Gil pushed the door open farther. Hell with minding his own business. Harley and Louie needed to shut up. Forget need, they just better shut their friggin yaps. Mary was a nice girl and whoever Louie was dogging on. . .well her reputation didn’t need more tarnish. No lady or woman deserved to be talked about like Harley and Louie were.
“Louie---“ Gil shouted, storming through the kitchen door. Louie looked up from the prep table where he stood, a raised meat clever in one hand.
“Gil, what’s your nut?” Louie slammed the meat clever through hunk of meat before him. Gil looked at the meat and the cleaver buried half way in it. The handle quivered and thrummed. Eerie vibrations hummed around the kitchen.
Gil shrugged and tried to back away. “Uhmm nothing Louie. Didn’t realize you’re on the phone. Sorry.”
“Harley, hang on.” Louie pulled his blue tooth head set off his head. “Gil, you been at them liquored pecans again?”
Gil kept backing away. He’d seen what Louie could do with a skinning knife and the meat cleaver. Meeting up with either and one pissed off Louie wasn’t at the top of Gil’s preferences in any shape or form. “Never mind. I’ll get back to you when you’re done.”
As Gil reached the door, he exhaled. Dumb ass, his conscience roared. Yeah, a real dumb ass. Never ever get near a man with a meat cleaver in his hand.
“Harley, I think Gil has been nipping the fermented pecans again. The boy is not making sense.” Louie shook his head and reached for the paper next to him.
Gil rushed back into the dining area. So much for saving Mary and the other lady’s reputation. At least he could make sure, he knew what had been said so he could stop the gossip before it started. Inching the door open, he cocked his head listening intently.
“I bet Mary’s sweet on riding her. The feel of buildup and the power…oh man I get jazzed thinking about our babes revving into over drive as we ride them to desire and back.” Louie laughed and spoke a few more minutes before hanging up.
Gil stepped away from the door, his hands shaking. His cock strained against his fly. Mary riding another lady? Harley and Louie were watching two women getting it on. Gil tried to swallow. His dry mouth went drier as images flashed before him of the foursome Harley and Louie must be having.
Gil jumped as Louie swung the door open. “Gil, what’s going on with you? Eaves dropping again?”
Gil slumped against the wall. Caught. He might was well fess up. Maybe he could get in on the action. Get Katie to come along as his partner. Oooh, three women going at it at once?
“Gil,” Louie called louder, his hand waving in front of Gil’s face. “You okay? You got to stay out of the pecan bucket.”
Gil jumped back as a white item floated near him. Grabbing Louie’s hand, he caught part of the blurred words. Bill of sale. One customized motorcycle.
No, he couldn’t be wrong. Could he? Gil looked up and grinned sheepishly. “Uhmm yeah. Sorry Louie.”
“NO harm done.” Louie turned to leave.
“Hey Can I ask you a question?” Gil moved closer.
“Sure.” Louie hesitated.
“Mind if I join in on the action?” There he’d spit it out. Though if Louie’s arched eyebrow and deadpan stare indicated the answer, Gil was shit out of luck and probably a job too.
“You can if you can get a bike in time. The road race to Desire is filling up fast.” Louie tossed the papers he held on the bar. “I got a carcass to carve. Check with the folks on the sheets.”
Gil picked up the papers. He groaned. The top sheet read contest form for Race to Desire’s Bluff. The second showed a picture of a tricked out motorcycle with a delivery date of Tuesday inked on the border.
“And follow-up with a whispered come on and a softly smacking kiss.” Ziva stopped typing and re-read her current article, 6 Steps to Improve Your Relationship Through Phone Sex, for the new and improved G&B website.
“G&B, personals desk. How may I assist you?”
Rex listened listlessly, doodling out the message more than copying it. Three weeks of personals desk hell. Eighty percent of the calls were bunnies, either placing an ad or responding to one. Lycan only knew why. The ads were all about the same: cutesy word plays on something totally non-reproduction related in the paper the day before. After three weeks, he only needed to read the paper to get the gist of the next day’s calls.
Having written down the billing information very carefully—there wasn’t much point to this hell if no money could be collected—he very gently replaced the phone handset in its cradle. It seemed like hanging the thing up carelessly encouraged the really odd characters to give him a ring. It probably wasn’t true but there was no need to tempt fate. With that thought, the shrill chirping of his personal phone ringing pulled him from his moping. He glanced down at the screen, eyes going wide. He glanced around furtively, noting that the news room was deserted. He flipped his phone open, hesitantly.
“Hello?”
“Hey sugar,” she growled, making parts of his body stir.
“Un, hi… honey,” Rex replied, scrambling madly to put a face with the voice. There was no way he would have forgotten a voice like that. It was a smooth, feminine alto, just deep enough for the seductive play growl to trip every trigger in is canid-wired male brain. There was no way he would be sporting an instant, insistent hard-on from two words if he didn’t know the she on the other end of the line, right?
Her throaty chuckle skittered along his over-stimulated nerves, making every hair on his currently human body stand on end. The urge to shift and start mating struck like a mack truck. It was all he could do to keep his wolf contained.
“I’m not your honey, bunny,” the mysterious voice hummed.
“I’m not a bunny, honey,” Rex shot back inanely, proud he could even still for words at this point. What the hell? He was no new-turn, unable to control his urges!
“Mmm, no you aren’t are you, my sexy wolf. But I bet I could get you hopping and bopping like a bunny in no time at all.”
“Um, no, probably not,” Rex muttered, shifting so his erection wasn’t pressed quite so… firmly along the seam of his jeans.
“Wanna bet?” the voice purred teasingly.
“Um, who is this, anyway?” Rex asked nervously as he eyed the newsroom for any hidden co-workers of microphones. He was alone while the rest to the gazette was out for lunch, but if he didn’t wrap this up quickly, someone was likely to come back to find him doing a Nick on the personals desk. He so did not want to go there!
“I’m your wildest dream, sweet-thang,” she purred. Her follow-up throaty chuckle pushed him just a bit farther, almost toppling the self-control he’d always been so proud of.
“Ok. I’m going to hang up now,” Rex said, though he realized that was a lie. He knew he should just hang up, then call the police. Stalkers were more of a big city thing, but it wasn’t unknown in small towns for journalists to garner a less than healthy following. He couldn’t though, not till he got her name. And number.
“Hang up then,” she purred. “But make sure you go for your usual evening run this evening. I love watching you bathe in that out-door shower you have in your back yard. I watch you shift from wolf to man, watch all that golden skin as it shimmers in the setting sun with water streaming over it.”
“You know about that?” Rex asked gulping.
“Uh-hu. And if you go for your usual run, I promise to be there when you get back. I want to watch you wash off the sweat.”
“Lady, this doesn’t sound like such a good idea,” Rex said, chuckling nervously.
“Oh, don’t worry, my sexy wolf. I don’t bite. I just want to play.”
Just like that, she hung up.
Rex realized that he’d been sitting there staring at his still-open phone for close to ten minutes when Nick tapped him on the shoulder.
“Earth to Rex, come in Rex!” his boss said, snapping his fingers in Rex’s face. Rex blinked at Nick, then shut his phone.
“Sorry boss. Didn’t see you come in.”
“I noticed. You going to be able to make it to tonight’s poker game over at Louie’s?”
“Not tonight,” Rex said smiling vaguely. “I got a blind date.”
“Which part?” he inquired with mock innocence. “The part where I loved you weel into the early morn before sneaking us both into the castle? Or the part where you pounced on me, thinking I might make a tasty snack?”
“How about the part where his nephew, one of the most powerful lords of the Kind, took a common shifter for his mate?”
Cason kicked off his sandals and stepped out on to the sand. The beach was empty at this hour of the day. Most of the surfers and early morning joggers had left before the heat began staking its claim.
A few feet down the beach, Cason noticed an odd shape on the sand toward the water line. The tail fins looked different from the ones he'd seen deep sea fishing. And the color hue ran darker than most surface or mid-sea dwellers he'd encountered scuba diving. Was it a new species of whale? The tail didn't fit a dolphin's nor a whale's either. He sped up his gait as he saw the clouds clear revealing more sun on the section of beach he headed towards.
As he got closer, a strange melodious sound filled his ears. Shaking his head, Cason looked around. He'd had his share of delusions from too much oxygen and the bends during diving incidents. He knew angels hovered around him as he assisted with water rescues. His job as an EMT didn't permit him much rest during the summer. This year he knew his vacation time needed to be. He wanted to find himself and regain the balance he'd had before he lost her.
"Look mate," a high-pitched voice began. Cason glanced to his left. Just above the wave rolling toward shore, his sea sprite companion, Nitchell, hovered. His squeaky British accented voice indicated something was amiss.
"Dude, calm down." Cason pointed toward the large blob he intended on investigating. "I'm not stupid enough to rush whatever it is."
Nitchell's laughter overwhelmed the music Cason kept hearing. "Sorry, mate. I've seen her kind before." He moved closer to Cason.
Cason shot him a scowl. Nitchell crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. Why did he have to get stuck with a hunk for his charge? A hunk who attracted women and men alike. Neither of them was queer. He disliked referring to them as gay. That word described his outlook on life and not from a sexual one either. Nitchell sighed as Cason waved him off and moved closer to her.
Two feet from the fishy blob, his charge had sense enough to stop. Any closer and she'd have him within her clutches. Blasted sea women.
"Nitchell!" A sharp motherly voice boomed through his conscience. All right not all were blasted. His dear sainted mother and aunts were good ladies of the sea. How his father dealt with them all living under his roof was beyond him. Not his problem. One human hunk with the ability to see and hear spirits was his and right now keeping him away from her mattered.
Cason knelt where he stopped. No, it couldn’t be. Yet, even though he blinked twice. . .even thrice, she didn’t disappear. Before him, sprawled on the sand, lay one partially shifted nude mermaid. What did he do now?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Happy Weekend All! Sorry for the late posting. My car went in the shop for a few days. Between the heat and that I've been distracted. Things are now back to balance pretty much as we weather out the heat here in the Mid-Atlantic. Keep cool and read a few good books! Remember to share with your spices and loves!
Smiles,
SOLARA
