Pranking on the Fourth
“Again, Trevor, why did you insist we both dress up as the purple fairy?”
“In case we’re seen, of course. What good would pranking the fine folks of Talbot’s Peak be if we didn’t spread the Purple Fairy myth?”
Jonesy look down at himself and barring the hastily fashioned loin cloth, he was nekkid. His cousin Trevor was totally flashing junk, even with the thin, see through skirt he wore. “My money lies on your sudden interest in chick clothes…something you care to share, cuz?”
“No! Just shuddup and lets place these last fireworks.”
Even in the dark he could see his cousin blush. Jonesy needed to go easy on his kin. Clearly the man was learning about some new faucet of his sexuality and Jonesy respected, even encouraged, that. Plus, this prank was actually pretty funny. No one got hurt when they substituted screwball named fireworks for something they found near the victims.
They’d left a box of Hocus Pocus flyers at the coffee place, substituting it for a bag of chocolate covered coffee beans because that lady seemed like a real witch. The way she screamed at someone named Lex on their previous, covert surveillance, of the town had made it a foregone conclusion to leave her the magic box.
They’d left a Rain of Fire at the local blacksmiths place and taken some shiny piece of crap thing. The thing had reminded him of a dragon lair, or at least what he’d read a dragon lair should be like.
The Flower Power pack was left on the farm that seemed to have more free range rabbits then it did food on the ground. This time the pulled what was left of the carrots in exchange. Good eyesight was a must when pranking this town and they could use all the help they could get.
The scariest thing they’d down so far tonight was leave the appropriately named Wolf Pack box on the door of some secret building hidden away in the woods, in place of the wolf’s head door knocker. The land was said to overrun with wolves so it pretty much fit.
Trevor looked over at him from behind the bushes they were crouched behind. “What do we have left in the bag, Jonesy?”
He opened the sack and looked in. “Looks like we have a Mega Mojo and a Molten Core.”
“Oh hell, that’s perfect.” His cousin nearly squealed. “Those belong to these two, for sure.”
Jonesy checked out the couple locked in each other’s arms, lips locked tight. “Yep, that dude definitely has the mojo, heck, she’s already pregnant and he’s still going at her like she was his favorite treat.”
“Right? Here, give me one of those and you take the other. They must have something in the backseat of that awesome stang we can swap for.”
As they tiptoed close to the classic car the sounds of kissing increased. You had to be impressed by the bad ass all but consuming the hot pregnant lady under the glow of fireworks overhead. Jonesy set his fireworks box in the backseat at the same time as Trevor and grabbed the first thing he saw, a bag with treats. His cousin did the same on the other side and then they ran.
Down the road a ways they stopped, laughed, and opened the bags. “What did you get, Jonesy?”
He looked inside and grimaced. “Um, I have a bag of toffee candy chews and a jar of sauerkraut. How’d you do?”
“Yuck! Bummer for you, man. Looks like I scored a bottle of Orange Juice and…” Jonesy watched his cousin pull the top off a food container. “Oh gag…”
“Nearly raw pieces of steak. That is just wrong…I’m gonna be sick, cuz.”
“No you’re not, Trevor. Pull it together.” Please. Because if Trev started, Jonesy knew he’d follow fast. “We need to get out of town.”
He recovered the container and tossed it down on the ground, leaving it for the animals while he moved his cousin along. “Take a deep breath, Trev, and tell me what the funniest swap was tonight.”
Trevor did as he was told before looking at Jonesy and said, “Definitely the one for that old couple making it on that overhang a little ways up the mountain. I’d love to see their faces when they get a look at the box of 8 Second Ride we left, then have to make their way back to town without their clothes.”
Both guys laughed.
“That was a good one, and the perfect one to leave our calling card at.”
“Yeah, a nude purple fairy statue was an inspired choice.”
Have a wonderful and safe 4th!
THE FACE OF FREEDOM
As much as he enjoyed the show, the audience as well as the fireworks, Sergei still looked glumly at the empty half of the bench beside him. His lovely Gypsy Red Wolf had to work tonight. She would miss the display. “I’m done at eleven,” she’d told him. “Go. Watch the fun. Then come to me and tell me about it. After that we’ll make our own fireworks.”
That cheered him more than the thought of big bangs and pretty lights. He settled his massive frame more comfortably on the bench.
“Comfort” did not apply to the young man in the tailored suit, painfully out of place among all the denim and flannel. He wandered bewilderedly among them, his expression a study in perplexity. Clearly new to Talbot’s Peak. Sergei followed his progress with an expert’s assessing eye. The boy wore boots, but not a cowboy’s boots. He tensed, ever so slightly, recognizing a kindred hunter.
He noticed something else when the boy meandered closer to his bench. On impulse he spoke up, in Russian. “Are you lost?”
The young man jerked around. “You speak Russian?” he asked in the same language.
“All my life,” Sergei replied dryly. He patted the back of the bench. “Come. Sit.”
The boy did so, gratefully. “My thanks. I’m afraid I’ve gotten a bit turned around.”
“So I gathered. Where are you headed?”
“There is a bar, owned by a wolf named Dante. Do you know it?”
Where Gypsy danced. Where she was working tonight. “You don’t want to go there. You are borzoi, yes?”
The boy nodded, surprised. “How—of course. The nose. You are … ” He sniffed carefully. “Tiger?” He frowned. “In America?”
“I’m hardly the only one. You’ll find any number of species here. Especially wolves.” He looked at the young man gravely. “This is either an excellent place or a dangerous place for a wolfhound. Perhaps you would be happier elsewhere.”
The young man shook his head. “I can’t. I took a job. This may not be the best time to pursue it, however. All these people.” He indicated the crowd with a jerk of his chin. “What’s going on?”
“Today is the Fourth of July. They celebrate their country’s independence. They give thanks for their freedom.” A pair of horse shifters galloped past, clearly sloshed on corn mash. “Some moreso than others.”
“Freedom? How can they be free? They still have a government, yes?”
“I can see you’re new to America. You’ve a lot to learn about Americans, shifters and humans alike. They value freedom above all. Especially here in the West. You know the term ‘maverick’?” The boy shook his head. “The maverick is hero here. He stands for personal independence, and against oppression. He doesn’t pay heed to the rules. He does as his heart dictates. He will do what is right, against all odds. That is what they celebrate tonight.”
The boy scoffed. “An odd belief, for wolves. They spend their lives trapped in a rigid caste system.”
“Not so rigid. Any wolf may strike out on his own, form his own pack, become leader. Even the omega. Here he has freedom to do so. The others respect that. Should someone try to take his freedom, or his life”—he stared pointedly at the wolf hunter—“his neighbors will come to his aid. You might want to keep that in mind.”
The young man gulped. “Thank you for your advice.” He extended his hand. “I am Piotr.”
Sergei shook with him. “Sergei.”
The hand in his went rigid. The boy’s eyes grew huge. “Sergei? The White Tiger? The—”
“Not tonight,” Sergei cut him off. “Tonight I also celebrate my freedom. Sit with me. Enjoy the show.”
Piotr jumped at the first loud boom, and gawped at the brilliant lights in the sky. He admitted he had never seen fireworks before. “I don’t understand what this has to do with freedom.”
“It’s loud and it’s colorful. Americans cherish both. Ah. Speaking of which … ”
A man raced past their bench, bathed in the overhead lights. He waved an American flag and shouted, “Viva los Estados Unidos!” He wore a pair of running shoes and nothing else. His gender was also up for debate, as he displayed no visible genitalia.
Sergei nodded sagely. “Freedom,” he said, “is a two-edged sword.”
Piotr stared after the runner, mouth agape. “He has no—” He paused to think about it. “Reptile?”
“Snake. They’ll have a hard time making any charges stick. It’s not as if he showed off anything unseemly. Ah. Here comes his cohort.”
A cursing, redheaded man pounded up. He glanced toward their bench. Sergei pointed wordlessly. The redheaded wolf pounded after the naked snake.
Piotr seemed to have lost all his breath. “They are … ?”
“That is allowed here? They’re not thrown in prison for it?”
“Not in Talbot’s Peak. Here freedom is paramount. Especially the freedom to love where you will.” Sergei shook his head. “Although I’m sure the Mayor will fine him for something. Even the most liberal of societies have limits.”
Piotr sat in thoughtful silence for a time. “Such freedoms are defended in this town? In this country?”
“For the most part, yes.”
“That is a good thing. I … think I may be maverick.”
Sergei eyed the boy’s perfect, immaculate suit. “Then you are where you need to be. As long as you don’t kill any wolves.”
“I was hired to kill the wolf Dante. I think I must refuse. I am free to do that, yes? Because this is America.”
“There will be a price to pay. Freedom often comes at a cost.”
The boy shrugged, fatalistic. Russian. “So does anything that matters.”
“True.” Once the show was over, he would take the boy to Dante. He was certain the wolf and the wolfhound would come to some accord. Then he would see his Gypsy. But first … “Enough of the doom and gloom. This is a celebration. Later we will drink. For now, watch the fireworks.”
Posted by Pat C.
Love Freely Given
Fireworks filled the sky. Bursts of bright blues, yellows, reds, and even green flashed across the midnight sky and vanished. Out on the other side of the pond, Gill sat with Chloe’s head in his lap. Getting her to follow him back to Talbot’s Peak hadn’t been easy. His joy rushed up overwhelming him at the oddest moments. Then a strange nagging feeling threatened to break his peace into pieces of doubt and angst. What had Rachel called it? Oh yeah, post nuptial jitters. No one seemed to be worrying about if the towel boy back at the hotel was ordained or not. Not that shape shifters leaned on legalities much when solemnizing their unions. Though the humans amongst the town folks liked tracking these things; like births and deaths. For now he and Chloe were an item. Getting her rambunctious family to understand visits were all right. Moving in was another thing. Squirrels taking over the Peak wasn’t going to happen.
Gill looked down at Chloe. Her face seemed to glow as more roman candles and flashes of color illuminated the sky. She tipped her head back and smiled at him. Contentment wasn’t a word he knew until Louie shouted it out at him while Gill tried to explain what happened since Chloe seduced him. Rachel’s laughter as she waved papers in front of him his first day back in the office didn’t help. Flushed and blushing weren’t things the mayor did until now.
Chloe sat up, combing her hands through her hair. Gill’s scent reached over to her and raced up her nostrils. Masculine and animal mixed until their unique signature flowed across her tongue in a trickle that had her wanting more. Images of Gill naked, erect, and ready to slide deep into her came rushing back from their four days straight in bed. Talk about a unique courtship. She wanted him now as much as she had then. Rising on her hands and knees, she covered the short space separating them.
All around them bursts of light and more fireworks brightened the sky. The couple beneath them had eyes for nothing but each other. Chloe licked her lips and spoke. “I want you deep within me making me explode like them.” She pointed as two more rockets detonated. Blues and golds arched into each other and fell like rain toward the earth.
Gill’s mouth opened and closed. Chloe smiled undoing first one button then another of her blouse. Pale cleavage came into view. The lace of her bra followed next as she unbuttoned one more button. A quick glance over her shoulder showed no one close by though other couples had followed them as they walked the trail to the pond. Miss Elly’s tip on where to spread their blanket to get the best view and privacy was spot on.
Chloe rocked back on her heels, easing one sleeve then another down each arm until only her red and black lace bra covered her. She reached for one of Gill’s hands. His thumb flicking over and around her nipple and areola sent pulses of need deep into her pussy igniting a flame of need. She needed that again as he rocked into her while his other hand plucked and stroked her clit sending her into double strength orgasms. Would he do the same tonight? She hoped he wanted her as much as she did him.
Gill blinked, swallowed twice, and blinked again. His woman, his mate, wanted him. Desired a repeat of what left both of them breathless, ready to sleep more than once during their prenuptial honeymoon. Lace undergarments got him. Got his gonads and cock ready to take action. Except this wasn’t a jack off session to some still picture in a magazine. This was Chloe. Sex was great. So was orgasming. Mutual pleasure---wow that made him come harder and want to feel her milking him as she cried out as her passion peaked. He quickly pulled his shirt over his head. Tossed it aside and reached for one of the best things in his world and life.
Pulling Chloe to him, her breasts brushed against him. Liquid fire flew between them, setting off sparklers and cherry bombs deep in his groin. Lava filled with hot want and need dripped down over his balls, searing its way to where his id waited ready to light the fuse sending his cock the nudge needed to explode his desire to a higher level. With her arms looped around his neck, Gill eased them down on to the quilt. Eyes fluttered close as lips met. Soon their internal fireworks began their own show.
More clothing joined the other pieces close to the edge of the quilt. Whispered desires mingled with throaty moans and murmurs of pleasure. Gill rolled to his side taking Chloe with him. She stroked both of his heads. His hair probably stood up like the morning he realized their unique union mattered to him. More pre-cum leaked out of his cock wetting Chloe’s hand. He watched as she dragged her hand from between them, turned it palm up and raised it to her lips. She puckered, kissed her slick wet flesh. Gill swallowed hard, willing himself to breathe and not groan louder. Her tongue flicked up and down her palm. Staying still wasn’t an option.
Chloe smiled as Gill rustled against her. Each move brought him closer to her, ready to brush against her wet swollen mons. His need matched hers. Tasting him off her palm increased her appetite to taste more of him. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she pushed against Gill rolling him on his back. As another burst of color illuminated the night sky, she clasped him with one hand and leaned over him. With one lick, then another followed by more she slowly filled her mouth with him. Hot, hard, and wetting her tongue with his cum. Soon his hands gripped her, holding her still as he slowed her deep throating pace.
“Much more and I’m going to come,” Gill groaned, jerking his hips back toward the ground. “Prefer to do that inside you.”
Chloe quickly located the condom she’d stuck in her shorts’ pocket. She ripped open the foil packet, easing the condom down and over Gill until she touched his balls. Slurred moans rolled out of him as he thrust toward her. Straddling him, she lowered herself until his condom cover cock rubbed against her clit. She rocked backwards taking him inside. Slow long thrusts became shorter and faster as his hand found her breast. His other fondled her clit.
Cries of passion spilled forth matching in intensity of the last huge volley of firecrackers, sky rockets, and cherry bombs peppering the sky over them. Spent, Gill brushed Chloe’s hair from her face. He kissed her cheek. As soon as their bodies returned to earth, he had something he needed to ---no wanted to ask her. Maybe this time he’d get the question right.
Posted by Solara Gordon
Running Beneath the Fireworks
Sirocco's spirit plummeted, and she sighed silently. She knew what was coming. After wiping his greasy hands on a towel, the bad-boy looking mechanic who owned a wild mane of light auburn hair streaked by pale gold, headed toward her.
Sirocco caught herself appreciating the laid-back saunter of his slim hips. She averted her gaze, but not before seeing that 'look' in the man's rather odd eyes. True, the color reminded her of fine golden champagne but the intensity almost unnerved her.
But yeah, it was the universal mechanic's look that said...
"Sorry, Miss Woodson, I won't be able to replace your starter until tomorrow. Ordered it, but they can't deliver until around noon," he hesitated, "tomorrow."
Fleetingly, Sirocco wondered how many women threw themselves at Mr. Bad Boy's sexy feet. On the heels of that thought, she mentally frowned, suddenly recalling the bevy of hunky men... if bevy could be used for men... she'd seen while simply driving through Talbot's Peak, Montana. That is, before her car refused to start after stopping to gas up.
Oh yeah baby... and not to mention the beefcake sights she'd lasciviously enjoyed when strolling through the small thriving town -- then, while eating a delicious lunch at a place called Rattigan's. Even the good-looking teenage waiter had harmlessly flirted with her.
So, question: how many gorgeous guys were there in this not-hit-by-the-recession town that had an abstract-art, dog bowl fountain in the square? Strangely, her GPS had barely noted its existence.
"Tomorrow," Sirocco repeated in resignation, and swiped a hand through her long strands of hair. She noticed Dean's gaze – he'd said that was his name – followed her movements. Could she say 'intently'?
"Best I can do," he offered, his gaze carefully remaining on her face. "When the new starter gets here, it'll likely take a couple of hours. Then you'll be on your way. Promise."
"I understand." Sirocco hugged herself before she thought. Surprised at the concern flaring in Dean's eyes, she unwrapped her arms fast, and smiled weakly. "I was hoping to get to Billings... enjoy the Fourth, the fireworks there."
"Boyfriend?" he asked, his voice rougher, lower. Dean shoved his hands in the pockets of his low-slung, and somehow un-grimy jeans.
Good gawd! What did she say? She'd been traveling across country alone, and certainly didn't want to advertise that fact, given the obvious dangers.
"No boyfriend," Sirocco carefully answered. "But I was meeting up with a couple of friends from my college years. If I don't show, or give them a call... well, you get the picture."
Dean's expression transformed, a smile tugging at his oh-so sexy lips. "This year we got a dang-bang good fireworks show planned."
"Yeah, I saw all those posters. Plus you can't miss the fireworks fever around town, as I call it." Sirocco halted herself in mid-stretch... a sure sign of her sexual interest. Damn.
"If you want, we could make an evening of it." Dean flashed a sensual grin. "I was just planning on hanging out with the pack... er, my buddies. It's a family night," he added. "Lots of kids will be around."
"I don't usually..." Dammit, why not? Sirocco had wanted adventure, one reason for her summer trip before trying to find a job that wasn't likely there... or wouldn't be there... or... who knew anymore? "Okay. I've always loved watching fireworks."
A smile owned Dean's face, and for moments Sirocco let herself bask in it. "Btw, is there a motel somewhere? I didn't see one..."
Crap, what a tightrope, and why Sirocco often avoided dealing with men. It's not like she wanted to lead him on -- have him believe that was an automatic invitation for sex... unless later, well, she wanted to keep her options open... and if the sparks were right... yeah, if the passionate fireworks happened... "I mean since I have to stay overnight."
Spinning on his heel, Dean quickly retrieved a brochure then handed it to her. "Mayor Gil had these made up. Map of the town and there's a list of accommodations. Trouble is, there's... well, sort of a cub scout meeting in town, and I doubt you'll find a room. However--"
Sirocco watched him dig deep in his pocket. "My sis is out of town, and I've been keeping an eye on her place." Dean handed her an old-fashioned key. "It's just a few blocks from here. Small house with green shutters." He eyed her closely, as if she was about to bolt. "I'm not far. Why don't I pick you up at about six and we'll have dinner. Plus, there'll be lots of good eats from the vendors."
The key bit into her palm, Sirocco clutched it so tightly. What was a girl to do? She almost felt like little miss red riding hood. And yet... "I need my bag out of the trunk."
Sirocco pivoted toward her car, but Dean shot ahead of her opening the trunk with her car key. Okay then, he was playing the gentleman. After shouldering her bag, Sirocco faced him. "Thanks."
"I'd walk you over to the house, but Dad would have my hide... and I like the family business." Dean gave her a lopsided grin designed to charm the opposite sex. "If you want to wait, I'm closing up in about an hour."
"It's okay... just give me directions." That way, Sirocco reasoned, if she wanted to opt out, then she could hoof it some place else.
To the blaring music, magnificent blooms of light and color exploded high in the night sky. Sirocco adored it.
Waiting for Dean to return with what he claimed was the best malt in the world, Sirocco rested her head on her hands, and simply reveled in the unending fiery bursts of color.
Around her, other couples lay on blankets while kids gone wild with sparklers weaved around them. True to his word, Dean had arrived at six on the dot. He'd gentlemanly handed her into a vintage, black sports car... one she admired, but had no clue what the make was. Besides, Dean -- wearing snug black jeans and a dark gold colored muscle shirt -- stole the show as far as her gaze was concerned.
He'd taken her to a small eatery that specialized in Greek cuisine, where everyone else there knew him. Certainly, they'd been treated like family. Even though, the inside jokes about wolves in the family didn't make sense to Sirocco, and she'd imaged 'red riding hood' again... still, she hadn't felt uncomfortable, or about to be 'devoured'.
That is, except in a good sexy way. Dean was definitely attentive, but without being pushy -- and without that wimpy neediness Sirocco loathed in a man. At least, so far, in their short time together.
"Hey, beautiful." Dean settled himself beside Sirocco, and she rose to a sitting position. "Taste," he encouraged, handing her a frosty-feeling plastic cup.
Sirocco took a draw on the straw. Instantly, a creamy, chocolatey, malty heaven filled her mouth. "Yum is right." Unable to resist the treat, she kept sipping until it was gone.
Dean chuckled, the sound low, and tingling her in just the right spots. "Told you."
As if it was the most natural thing in the world, he slipped an arm around her shoulders, and gently brought her closer. Enjoying way too much, Sirocco leaned against him, and let herself savor the hard strength of his body. Damn, but Dean felt stronger than he looked.
Suddenly, those around her stirred, and Sirocco heard...
"Lamar, he's done it."
"Streaked naked through the town square." The stage whisper was meant to be heard by the adults only.
"Really? Does Jamie know?"
"He was chasing after him," someone answered, then laughed.
"Wish I'd seen that. Maybe someone caught it on camera."
"Yeah, as long he didn't 'streak' in front of the kids... more power to him."
A wild wicked urge gripped Sirocco, one she'd wanted to do since a young teenager. But now? With a man she barely knew.
Unmerciful in its grip, the longing made her restless. Sirocco attempted to still herself. No go.
"Something wrong?" Dean growly whispered near her ear, even as he stroked her arm.
"You're a big bad influence," Sirocco blurted out. "Well, not exactly you--"
"Big bad influence, I like that. Want to tell me all about it?"
Sirocco twisted in his embrace, positioning herself so she could whisper in Dean's ear. Obligingly, he leaned down, all wonderful ripping muscle against her.
"I want to run naked beneath the fireworks."
Dean tensed in a way that let Sirocco know she'd turned him on alright. Yet, he wasn't quite certain what move to make.
"I've had this strange yen to run free beneath a sky full of fireworks for a long time now." Sirocco paused in her words, then turned toward him. Nothing showed on Dean's face, except keen interest, and the shadow of lust in his eyes. "I don't know why," she continued. "I'm not certain I care. Maybe it's just wanting to feel free in a world where..."
"Where there are so many societal restrictions." Dean circled his palm on her back.
"Oooh, you say that so profoundly. I like it." Sirocco tentatively touched the side of his face, then slipped her fingers through his luscious hair. "Is there a place? Away from the kids, everyone?"
His gaze studied her for long moments. "I know where to go, Sirocco. If you trust me."
"Are you trustworthy?" She'd asked from the depth of her being. Not that she was silly enough to think he wouldn't lie... still...
"I will be your protector." Dean moved fast, taking hold of her hand. In one powerful movement he rose, tugging Sirocco to her feet.
On guard, Dean watched the woman he would claim as mate frolic naked beneath the brilliant array of ever-bursting colors. What he really appreciated -- beyond the beauty of her curvy body and dancing movements -- was how the light from the fireworks shimmered and shifted on her pale skin.
She raced from one side of the small field to the other, freedom in every line of her body. As wolf, he'd felt her need to run free, and to be free in spirit.
Dean smiled, even as he sniffed the lazy winds for any intruder. He grinned even more when Sirocco suddenly spun around, a playful expression on her face. After a sassy shake of her long red-golden hair, she called out, "Want to chase me?"
As man and wolf, Dean silently shouted his answer, then launched toward her...
"You have to run naked," Sirocco shouted, even as she whipped around, and ran.
Have a happy Fourth of July...
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance
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