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Spare Me A Shiftless Spring
“It’s not gonna be the same, I’m just saying.”
“Give it a chance.”
Hmph. Looking out the car window and longed to be racing down this road on paws rather than tires.
“Spring is for outdoor love…wild, outdoor love, not this.”
“We can do this naked, well, except for the shoes. You have to wear the shoes.”
“Hmmm, new fetish, perhaps? Shoes and rulers?”
“Depends on the shoes. The pair you’re going to be sporting, not so much. Now those boots in your closet…”
“Those are some lust inspiring boots. Did you know Penny tries to seduce me every time I wear them?”
“I thought she had a pair of her own?”
“She does, but she says the thought of dominating an alpha wolf like myself does something to her.”
Ziva looked over at her low growling lover, adjusting himself in the seat. “I see it does something to you too…”
“Someday I might need to see that.”
“Someday, I might let you.”
Ziva slid her hand over the gently pooched belly beneath her yoga pants. Yeah, someday seemed to be drawing closer on that subject, but not until this sweet pup was born.
“Have you submitted to her before?”
Nick held himself tightly enough that she worried he’d do damage before they got to the pleasure club. “Not yet,” she said, reaching over to free the weighty appendage from his grip.
“Good. I’d like that first to be together.”
Ziva once again found herself awed by Nick. Even a year ago he would have rebelled at the thought of Penny and herself doing anything remotely sexual, now he was considering involving himself in a scene between the two. Impressive.
“What?” she squeaked, caught up in the thoughts of what the scene might entail and the pleasure she knew they’d all find.”
“We’re here, Ziva.” Nick nodded towards the back door to Dante’s and got out of the car. He came around to her side to help her out of the car.
“Okay,” she said, taking his hand.
“Good, I glad you’re going to give this a chance…it’ll be fun.”
“No, I mean, okay I’d also like that first to be together.”
Nick’s eyes grew hungry as he pushed her back against the car and nuzzled her neck. Her arms wound around him and her leg slid up his thigh. Ziva rubbed against him in the age old way of dry humpers around the world and moaned as she felt her claws slip free.
“Nick, st-stop, my claws…”
“Shite.” Nick stepped away, leaving her cold and needy, but able to breathe through the arousal and find her calm.
“It’s okay, I’ve got it back…I’ve got it back.”
“Damn spring…come on, let’s get inside.”
She’d like to believe spring was the cause of her lack of restraint, but she knew better. Their lovemaking frequently turned them both wild enough to shift either before or after the fact…sometimes even during, but with baby on board she needed to refrain from that.
A soon-to-be-daddy Nick had sworn, outside of emergencies like last Friday’s breakout bear incident at the Gazette, he would refrain from shifting as well. She was impressed with his desire to share this pregnancy with her, but knew the reality—Alpha wolves in Nick’s position had to shift in order to keep the peace.
Just inside the door they stopped at a desk and she smiled at the teen wolf Dante had taken under his wing. “Hey Johnny,”
“Miss Z.” He nodded his head in recognition while attempting to be professional in his new position.
“What size do you need?”
“A woman’s 9 please.”
“And you, Sir?”
“Men’s 13 and the key to the single lane. Dante should have called.”
“He did indeed, Sir. Here you go.”
“Thanks, Johnny.” She smiling at his darling blush.
Nick pulled her to the door, got it unlocked and ushered her inside with a grope and grunt. “Here we are.”
“Yep, bowling,” she sighed, wishing she was out running through the woods rather than wearing rented shoes and hefting heavy who knows what there made of balls.”
Nick tugged her around and into himself, both hands on her butt and whispered into her ear. “Not bowling, naked bowling.”
“That’s true…” she pulled the snap on his jeans and sunk her hand past the waistband. “I guess I’d best find a ball or two."
Nick growled and took her to the plastic seating. They ushered in spring in the age old way of wolves only this year as humans and then she kicked his ass three time in her new favorite sport…naked bowling.
Posted by Serena Shay
# # #
Merry posed in front of the changing room mirror. “How about this one?”
Dash snorted and pawed the linoleum floor, his stallion’s miniscule patience sorely tested. How did human males survive this torture? “Looks nice,” he huffed.
Merry switched to a new pose, hands on hips and bare foot tapping. “Go wait outside then, if you’re going to be like this. I told you, I’m buying a skirt.”
“Don’t see why you need one.”
“Because I feel like I’ve been living in jeans for the past five years, and the ranch is finally turning a profit, and I want to look pretty and it’s spring.” She turned back to the mirror and longingly fingered the skirt’s soft green fabric. “I want to look pretty,” she repeated.
“You already look better than fine.” Dash crowded into the booth with her and rested his big hands on her shoulders. He kneaded her muscles gently. “To me, you look prettiest just after mounting, with your eyes all wide and dewy and hay in your hair. Y’know,” he added, glancing around, “this ain’t as big as a stall, but it does have the shape.”
“Quit it, you big horse. You’re not even supposed to be in here. What if the clerk comes back?”
“You wanted my opinion, right?” He pushed up against her. His “opinion” was rock hard and unavoidable. “This one’s nice, but it’s flimsy. I liked that other one, the cotton thingie with the pleats. Bet that’d come off faster.”
He pressed her up against the mirror. Merry giggled. “I’ll take it.”
# # #
“Good Dog, woman! What do you think you’re doing?”
“Shedding.” Elly McMahon twirled across the bedroom before her husband Vernon in nothing but a red lacy bra and panties. “It’s spring. No more heavy sweaters and bulky wool pants. From here on out it’s—”
“Nothing at all?” Vern asked hopefully.
“You wish. No, that’s summer. Now’s the time for print dresses and heels. And dinner and dancing and—”
“Hair on the furniture?”
“That’s wolf shedding.” Elly paused in her dance to run her hand through Vern’s thick silver hair. “You didn’t mess up the sofa, did you?”
“That was the grandkids. Growing pups dump their winter coats right and left. Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up. Now, what’s this rumor I heard about dinner and dancing?”
“I’ve already made reservations at the Supperclub. I bought a new dress I’m dying to show off. It plunges down to here”—she demonstrated with a sweep of her hand—“and rides up to here.” Her hand slid up her thigh. Vernon followed it with his own. “Whoa, wolfie! Wait until I have it on.”
“Too late for that, m’love.” Vernon bore her backwards, onto the bed. They landed writhing and giggling like lovers half their age. “Tell me more about this dress. Does it have a belt I’ll have to fight with?”
“Of course not. And I don’t want you shaking it in your jaws, either. Those were my favorite sweat pants, you know.”
“That was the grandkids too. They thought it was a rag. They’re young.”
“You still owe me a pair of sweats.”
“Here’s a down payment.” He licked his way up Elly’s bare torso until she forgot about the sweats.
“Promise me one thing,” she gasped against his neck. "Promise you’ll never be one of those old farts who wears sandals with socks. If you ever do, I’ll divorce you.”
“Woman, you know I’m a boot man. Cowboy boots, fast cars and faster women. Now, how the hell does this blasted bra come off?”
# # #
Lamar held up a sparkly scarlet gown. “Does this dress make me look fat?”
“For crying out loud, Lamar,” Jamie said. “You’re a snake. Nothing makes you look fat, unless you swallow a goat. What the hell you need a dress for anyway?”
“For work. For the show. They’ve seen my other costumes. It’s spring, a whole new season. I need a whole new look.” He studied the gown’s bodice. “I don’t think my falsies will fit in here anyway. The last thing I need is to fall out of my outfit right in the middle of the act.”
“What the hell does it matter? They’re fake.”
“It’s the illusion, rojo. They want to pretend they see something. If they actually see it, it’s just gauche.”
“Why even bother with a dress at all? Just wear leather strips and body paint. They want an illusion, make ‘em think they’re looking at a dress.”
“Querido, that’s perfect! Gypsy’s got just the outfit, if I can talk her out of it.” He hopped into Jamie’s lap, gown and all. “Sometimes I absolutely love you, even if you are addicted to—” Lamar shuddered from head to foot. “Flannel.”
“I’m a southern boy. It’s cold up here in the mountains.”
“I’m from Miami and I—oh, never mind. Here. Warm up.” He draped the gown around Jamie’s shoulders. “What do we do with this now?”
“We could give it to Mary. Take it up a couple inches and she’d look damn hot in it. Drive Porker right over the edge.”
“Perfecto! What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on that wall. Where’d you learn so much about fashion, you backwoods country boy?”
Jamie grinned. “From a dang snake who can’t keep his clothes on. Speaking of which … ”
# # #
Mary did indeed look damn hot in the scarlet dress. Porker stuttered incoherently for nearly fifteen minutes. Mary watched in amusement while his lips formed incomprehensible words before she took pity on him and stopped his lips with first a finger, then a kiss. Then both of them went over the edge as Talbot’s Peak welcomed spring.
Posted by Pat C.
The funny little man wearing green everything was sitting by himself at a small table towards the back of the coffee shop, sipping on a tall Irish coffee and chuckling softly to himself every now and then. Guri could only guess that the strange little man was amused by what he was seeing out the large picture window. He himself saw nothing overly amusing. Still, the man was wearing green head to toe, a clear sign that he shared Guri's love of all holidays. If Tamsan had not staged what he called an intervention, Guri would also still be wearing green from head to toe, as well. One day to celebrate a fun holiday like St. Patrick's Day really wasn't enough.
Guri watched the man chuckle again as yet another couple walked hand-in-hand down the street. Unable to restrain his cat form's natural curiosity any longer, he decided to approach the strange little man.
"Hello, my fellow holiday enthusiast!" he said heartily, and perhaps a touch too loudly he realized when Marissa, the owner of Java Joe's cleared her throat. She was always pestering him about "using his inside voice," whatever that was.
The strange little man eyed him maliciously from the corner of his eye, but otherwise ignored Guri. That kind of stung. He may not be a mover and shaker in the Yakooza but he was still a tiger. Wise people did not pay him an insult like that lightly.
"I said hello, my friend," he said, deciding to give the strange little man a second chance to be polite on account of their shared enjoyment of green holidays.
"Go away, ya pea-brain," the stranger said nastily. "I saw you the other day, ridin' that horse you painted green like a senseless imbecile, yelling and whooping and showin' yer arss like a moon-stuck calf."
"I beg your pardon!" Guri exclaimed, shocked by the rude words and uncalled for ridicule.
"Ye've begged it. Now get out o' my sight," the little man spat nastily.
The whole store seemed to go still as everyone inside suddenly sucked in a silent gasp. Guri, furious at the disrespect, took one good, long sniff. Not human, and therefor ok to eat, Guri thought with satisfaction. He smiled at the nasty, smirking, strange little man. He let his cat show in his eyes and when the stranger dropped his smirk--realizing his peril too late!--Guri licked his lips.
"Now hold on just a min--"
No more strangle, insulting, disrespectful little man, he thought with satisfaction as he carefully shifted his head back into its human shape. He looked over at Marissa apologetically.
"I am sorry if I caused you insult for eating your customer, Mrs. McMahon," he said, trying not to blush. "But I could not allow such an insult to stand."
Marissa grinned and shook her head in bemusement. "That's fine, tiger. The leprechaun has been sitting there for several days, insulting everyone he saw. He was bound to lip off to someone who could eat him sooner or later. Besides, that little turd was the guy who gave my kids magic mischief scarves. I'm not exactly sad to see him gone.
Dante muttered a growl as he strode out of his biker bar. Escape! He needed, no required some breathing room... a wild fast ride with the winds... and against the winds.
He needed his motorcycle. He required his Kitty, her soft hand caressing his face.
Hell to Lupa, Spring was in the air. A young wolf's fancy turned to mating... to chasing his mate through the greening forest, the flower-budding fields.
His Kitty girl did love being chased. And he loved chasing her as a man, and as wolf. Dante's cock thickened fighting his black leather pants.
The taste of her white fluffy tail as he captured it, the feel of her silky fur in his mouth when he chased her as wolf -- his Kitty would lithely twist into a ball, spring, and mock-attack his face like a little fiend.
Dante cracked a lascivious grin striding faster toward his Harley, parked at the back of the lot. The late morning sun warmed his face, and lit his very soul.
Escape beckoned like a raw steak cooking on the grill.
As the owner of the Interspecies Pleasure Club, as the alpha werewolf in charge of protecting the territory surrounding Talbot's Peak, Dante's plate was always overloaded with challenges. Hell, now there were his sire's mutant werewolves, and a mammoth mutant werewolf being diabolically created by the mad scientist, Morloxian... then he had to keep a fierce-wolf eye on Zhere Ghan and his Tiger Yakuza... oh yeah, shouting howls to the bright moon, how about that do-good, idiot monster hunter, Cochrane, who was determined to wipe out Talbot's Peak's shifter population... further, he was in the midst of busting a drug operation with Reetha and Rafe... and not to howl-growl about the plethora of details he dealt with everyday when running his always-expanding, underground empire... also, his international connections that needed attention... and! watching how the political winds shifted in town...
Dante barked a loud growl!
He grabbed hold of his souped-up -- to use the old expression -- Harley's polished chrome handlebars. Before he could jump astride, he heard, "Dante! Wait!"
Suppressing a snarl, Dante turned. "What is it, Merley?" he asked the swan shapeshifter. She'd recently taken charge of the Midnight Stardust's Supperclub's kitchen, having worked her way up from being a server.
Obviously sensing his impatience, she hurried through an explanation about a food fight between two of the chefs, ending with, "What should I do?"
"Merley, I gave you the reins because I trust your judgement." Dante hesitated, watching her digest his words, then added, "You have my full authority to take whatever action is necessary to end their feud."
After a moment to consider his words, determination lined her pretty face. Dante mentally watched her inner wings flap, her feathers ruffle in a sign of domination. She gave a nod, and whipped around. Dante let a brief grin tilt one corner of his mouth. Swans, he'd discovered, were far tougher than they appeared.
Dante sprang astride his monster motorcycle, roared the engine to life and headed down the trail toward the open highway. The smells of the forest flooded his nostrils, and Dante savored the new growth, the ripe rich fertility of Mother Earth.
Over the years, as he built more wings on the Pleasure Club, he'd been able to put trusted pack members, shifters of every type and stripe, supernatural folks of every variety, even humans, in positions of authority -- lifting some of the burden off his shoulders.
Dante counted himself one lucky werewolf when it came to the caliber of those who worked for him, and also those who owned other restaurants, entertainment clubs, and businesses within the subterranean Pleasure Club. In spare moments, he frequented many of them -- especially the Jackal twins' old west saloon.
With a gravel-crunching squeal of his tires, he sped onto the blacktop. The engine rumbled like a great beast, and a bad-boy thrill slid though Dante. He leaned forward rapidly accelerating the Harley. Soon he thundered down the long stretch of winding highway, the winds blasting over him, and the taste of Spring on his tongue. Arrrr-ROOOOO!
Given his mood, Dante didn't give one scat damn about any cop, trooper... or black ops helicopter... or, whatever, whoever. Freedom screamed his name. Not like he wasn't unprepared to protect himself.
Between the super wolf, White Fang, and the rest of Dante's inner-circle crew -- they patrolled a large swathe of territory around Talbot's Peak, keeping every enemy at bay. Also, beyond protecting the Peakites, the crew kept watch over each other.
In concert, Gypsy Red Wolf's powerful witch-psychic circle used their paranormal powers in service to the Peak community. And Dante could always count on Mayor Gil. The were-squirrel guarded the town like he guarded his stash of nuts. Viciously.
For the sheer sport of it, Dante zoomed past the small amount of traffic, as if the cars and pickups stood still. Grrrrr-scat... who cared if they took cell phone vids and called the authorities on him? He was wolf, and he needed to roam free -- to stretch his wolfen spirit over the land, as Dante thought of it.
He wolfishly grinned, and felt his fangs lengthen. Yeah-yip-yip, freedom stealers, wiping out your computer data is no challenge for my hacker crew.
On wild impulse, Dante raced toward town. His Kitty was a sexy siren luring him onto her beautiful shores. Damn-yip yes! His balls ached like sons of a gun for her.
Once Dante reached the outskirts of Talbot's Peak, he lessened the motorcycle's speed and headed for the library where his lovely cat woman worked. He let the engine rumble loudly as he cruised the streets, automatically waving at those who hailed him.
Audaciously, Dante rode the Harley up to the front steps of the library. He dismounted fast, his need scorching through him. Taking the steps two at a time, he then nearly burst through the doors, a man-wolf on a mission.
All eyes flew to him. Only the surprised, gorgeous blue eyes of his Kitty girl mattered to Dante. Hellfire and howls, there was no denying his ferocious need for his woman.
Kitty stared at him, her luscious lips slightly parted. Immobile, she held a book in her hand. Likely, she'd been about to give it to the youngster seated next to her, probably for some school project.
Dante didn't bother with words or even a possessive growl. He never broke stride. Snaking his arm out, he captured Kitty's waist, and hauled her close.
Their bodies mated, but their gazes collided. The instant her gaze softened melting into his, Dante slipped his arm beneath her knees, and swooped her up into his embrace.
Pivoting on his boot heels, he devoured the distance to the door with his fast strides. "Where are you taking me, you big bad werewolf?" his Kitty whispery crooned.
Dante shouldered his way out the door before answering. "How about a long, long ride on my motorcycle, little Kitty girl?"
"A long ride? I dunno," she sultrily teased, then squirmed seductively in his arms.
"I'll show you a real good time," he gruffly promised, playing the bad-boy wolf. Dante swung her aboard his motorcycle, then quickly moved in for a kiss.
His Kitty smiled like a vixen, grabbed hold of his black leather jacket, and pulled. Their lips seized each other, and clung. Passion blazed between them, and their untamed, nipping kisses lasted for an indecently long time.
"I suppose I'll be known as the naughty librarian from now on," she murmured, once he broke their mouths apart, once their breaths rushed together.
"My naughty librarian," Dante rasped. He mounted his Harley, and wrapped his arms around her.
Kitty snuggled into the hollow of his body. "Yours," she promised in a purr.
Dante revved the engine back to life. To lycan hell with his cat-hating sire. The time had come to openly claim Kitty, to mate with the woman he loved with his whole heart.
Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ...
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance
SEX EDUCATION PHOENIX STYLE
Rachel looked up from her desk. He stood there looking at her, arms folded across his chest, squinting, and shaking his head. She bit her lip to keep her exasperated sigh inside. Two months and he kept trying to understand in the old way. The way that immortals often did with an attitude and their haughtiness.
“Yes?” she asked wondering if she needed to grit her teeth too. Her explanation about sex and actual enjoyment for the sake of pleasure went over his head and down his pants, past his groin and out the door. Then he asked for a demonstration. A bloody blasted demonstration. As if...damn her late husband never complained. Neither had her last two boyfriends either. Now her Phoenix tag along wanted to see firsthand what all this pleasure was about. Cripes, the trip down redemption lane had really wiped out memories and experience. Or had it?
Tyburn walked toward her desk with his hand held out. “May I sit?”
Rachel nodded wondering what asinine question he had now. Unclenching her jaw, she reminded herself to breathe. Both of them were chaperoning the other and keeping track so at the end of this enforced togetherness they could part company.
Tyburn sank into the chair closest to her. He sighed and spoke. “Last month I spent the 14th day of it delivering flowers, hearts with writing on them, cards with hearts on them, chocolates, and even got my ass pinched. Now everywhere I turn everyone has that same wild-eyed look and heat flooding off them.”
Rachel bit her lip hard. Laughter threatened to burst forth. She’d smelled the rutting odor from the moment she walked out her front door a week ago. Warmth and greenery affected the animal half of most of the Peak’s residents as rapidly as it did the human half. The non-shifters amongst them like her got a bit giddy and horny too. She understood what a worn out vibrator and a box of used batteries represented. One week of good sleep and no dreams of shagging Tyburn three to four times a day.
“So you got your ass pinched? What you complaining about? Probably the best thrill you’ve gotten in a while.” Rachel looked down less she started smirking. How did she explain being human? The enjoyment of letting go and just feeling. Like the time she went skinny dipping with her bridge club.
Tyburn drummed his fingers on the desk. His scowl didn’t fool her. His eyes glowed and the corners of his lips turned up. The rascal was up to something. She remembered the time he threatened to toss her into the coldest river in Phoenixdom. Ice and snow covered the banks. Well, it had until their passion melted the snow cap and the ten inches of ice covering the lake down river.
“I guess you don’t get your hormones getting jiggy and needing release?” Rachel looked Tyburn straight in the eye. She folded her arms across her chest and kept staring at him.
Tyburn tossed his head back, laughing loudly. “Oh, so that is what all this is about. Hormones and sex. Lots of physical intimacy. Sweating and noisy stuff.”
Rachel sighed, nodded, and wondered if anywhere in the animal kingdom-human or deity too-was there a place where males and females understood each other from the get go. If there was, she certainly didn’t know about it.
Posted by Solara Gordon
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