Shiftus Interruptus

We’ll get back to the modeling story at a later date. Here, for your Labor Day enjoyment, is a scene I can’t recall ever reading in a shapeshifter novel. Enjoy.

# # #

Slowly Callisto removed her bra, then her lacy panties. She stood before Andrew, clad only in shadow and the faint strips of light from the window. He caught his breath. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

She draped herself across the bed, her legs spread wide. “Come and get it, Studly.”

He needed no further urging. Tearing at his belt and fly, he practically dove on top of her. He crushed his mouth to hers and demanded all she had. Callisto met his assault with her own hungry response. Their tongues wrestled while their hands raced greedily over each other’s nude bodies.

Already hard, Andrew dipped his fingers into Callisto’s well and found her ready and eager. He swirled his tongue around her straining nipple while his finger traced a similar path around her clit. Callisto thrust her hips at him in a desperate search of the ultimate prize.

“I should make you wait,” he teased her. “But first … ” He thrust two fingers into her pussy.

Callisto let out a lusty cry that abruptly dropped two octaves. Fur sprouted between the fingers of the hand clamped to her breast.

“Oh shit,” Andrew moaned. “Not again.”

He dove off the bed, bare inches ahead of her sudden transformation. Callisto’s cry morphed into a full-throated bawl as her body morphed into something else. Something crushingly huge. She reached after her lover with a wide paw tipped with vicious claws.

Still bawling, she rolled over. The bed frame creaked and collapsed.

The grizzly bear sat up and surveyed the damage. Her frustrated roar shook the window.

A little yip distracted her. She swept her tiny ursine eyes around the room and finally found the terrified red fox scrunched under the dresser. She leaned toward him and whimpered a question.

The fox crawled out and shook himself. They stared at each other. The fox sat. The bear slumped amid the wreckage of the bed and whined dejectedly.

After several calming breaths the fox managed to shift himself back into Andrew. He approached the bear and stroked her fur. “Well,” he said. “That was … interesting.”

It took almost ten minutes of gentle petting and crooning on Andrew’s part before Callisto calmed enough to regain her human shape. Her face started crumpling before her muzzle fully receded. “I’m so sorry. I thought this time … ”

“Shhh. It’s okay.” Andrew kissed the remains of her muzzle. “We’ll wait a bit. Try again. Maybe have a couple of drinks. Alcohol’s supposed to be a depressant.” He kicked a piece of the bed frame aside. “Find another room. Hope Dante’s got insurance.”

“I hate this!” Callisto sobbed. “I want to, I really do. But as soon as I get really into it, the adrenaline kicks in and I … shit.” She punched the pillow. “Mama warned me about this. It’s a species thing. We never really got over mating in bear form.”

Andrew grinned. “So I bring out the animal in you?”

“It isn’t funny.” She snorted. “So now what?”

“We could try those drinks. Or herbal tea or something. Give each other hand jobs. Maybe that’ll take the edge off. Or I could hump you in your bear form. That sounds like fun.”

Callisto eyed him sourly. “I’d crush you.”

“But what a way to go.”

She smacked him on the shoulder. Andrew almost tumbled off the remains of the bed. “Let’s try the tea,” Callisto decided. “I knew I should have taken those meditation classes. They worked for my sister.”

“You sure that wasn’t the um, recreational herbs?”

“At this point, I’ll try anything. I know the bunnies chew some kind of leaf. If anything, they’re even jumpier than bears.”

“Or … ” Andrew slid his arm around her broad shoulders. “We could just sit here and cuddle. See what happens.”

“There’s that.” Callisto nuzzled his hair. “I love you. My little foxy fucker.”

Andrew leaned into her arms. “My big tough teddy bear.”

Cake Boss

Salome stopped herself just in time. One word, one wrong sound at the wrong moment, and Telly’s steady hands might jiggle and there would go hours of work. She held herself still as a rock in the kitchen doorway, scarcely daring to breathe.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” her husband said without turning around. “I know you’re there. I’m good.”

She let her breath out, relieved. “I’ll wait here. Just to be safe.”

“No need. It’s done.” He stepped aside. “You like?”

Salome caught her breath again, this time over the icing artistry he’d just applied to the cake. Delicate pink and blue flowers. Winged candy ponies. The entire two-tiered confection had been sculpted into the shape of a Medieval castle in white cake and vanilla icing. Little flags with 8s on them flew from the turrets.

The Princess stood on the battlements, a candy Katniss with a tiny bow. A pack of sugar wolves stood at her back. “I don’t remember wolves from The Hunger Games,” Salome said.

“The definition of ‘princess’ has been changing, Disney notwithstanding,” Telly said. “The ponies will probably go first. I’m just relieved her family didn’t insist I put meat in the recipe. Baking for carnivores is a tricky game.”

“They do like their sweets, though. Bet they’ll have barbecue at the birthday party. Now guess what we’ve got.” She fluttered a paper in front of his nose.

His stare fastened on it. “It’s ours?”

“It will be once we sign it. Our own shop at last, with a real kitchen for us to work in. Actual ovens. No more pizza dinners because the stove’s in use.” She hugged her husband tight. “All ours.”

Telly maneuvered her into the living room, away from the cake and its delicate turrets, so he could swing her around. “It’s all been worth it, m’love. We’re a real bakery at last.” He stopped in mid-swing. “Got a name yet?”

“Still working on it. Oh, and I have another special request.”

“Good thing the cake’s done, then. What’s this one?”

Salome bit her pink lower lip. “Um, a dungeon?”

“Say again?”

“I ran into Harriet at the real estate office. A friend of hers plays a slave at the Pleasure Club. The girls want to get her a cake dungeon. Don’t give me that look. It’s not the first time we’ve been asked to bake something risqué.”

“Just running through the possibilities. I suppose it’ll have to be something spicy. No vanilla.”

Salome giggled. “Doughnut collars?”

“And licorice whips.” Telly grinned, getting into it. “Gingerbread men on their knees. We’ve done that already. A dark chocolate Dom. Or is chocolate out? A lot of the canines can’t stomach it.”

“This will be mostly herbivores. The more fruits and veggies we put in, the happier they’ll be.” Salome’s lips curved. “Cherries, of course. And plenty of nuts.”

“Absolutely. How soon do they need it? We’ve got that cupcake order for Thursday, remember.”

“Saturday morning. The party’s in the afternoon.” Salome peered beyond his shoulder, with a sad little shake of her head. “There goes the kitchen again.”

“This could be the last time, though. Soon we’ll have a professional kitchen, and a house that doesn’t smell like peanut butter. You know,” he added, switching tracks, “we get a lot more orders for the kinky cakes than we do for the birthday variety.”

“Noticed that, did you?”

“You bake enough cakes in the shape of a penis, you start to get the idea. Think we should specialize?”

“If you think it would help. We do need a gimmick to help us stand out. We won’t be the only bakery in Talbot’s Peak. With a specialty, we could market to some of the clubs by the exit. As long as you don’t mind, of course. You’re the one who does most of the sculpting.”

“I don’t want you baking dicks. Some of those requests we get give you funny ideas.”

“You loved the cotton candy bikini,” Salome reminded him. “We can still do regular cakes. See how the market goes.”

“I think we both know how the market’s going.” Telly glanced over his shoulder at the vanilla castle. “We get asked for eight-year-old princesses who lead wolf packs. These people aren’t into safe and sedate. If we can’t beat the competition in flavor, we’ll have to do it in shape.”

“I’m all in favor,” Salome agreed. “I know you love a challenge. And I love new ideas.”

“So do I, when I’m not too tired. Dirty cakes it is. Why, look, I’ve got some icing left. What do you think we should do with it?”

“I say it’s time to take a break. Want to lick my bowl?”

He took the deed to their new bakery from her and carefully laid it on a table. He swung her into his arms with only a little less care and headed for the bedroom. Salome snuggled happily into his arms. She knew in her heart Wicked Sweet was going to be a success.

Good for the Goose

Every March, in the wake of the Talbot’s Peak St. Patrick’s Day celebration, the town picked up several hundred overnight guests, in the form of migrating goose shifters. In exchange for providing the air show, those geese who chose not to camp out at the pond were granted free overnight lodging, primarily at the Pleasure Club complex. Rooms at the Pleasure Club came with benefits, which the wing-weary ganders were more than happy to enjoy.

“Room’s ready,” Mark announced. “All we need is—”

“Blankets?” Robert said. “Dante says that’s taken care of.”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

Jeremy yawned. “I just want to sack out for a while.” He swept his gaze around the room they’d been given. Almost every inch of floor was covered with large, soft cushions which could be shoved together to form one huge bed or a series of smaller ones. Bowls of fresh grains and vases of rushes and cat-tails completed the decorations. Jeremy shrugged. “Beats the hell out of a swamp, I guess.”

“Anybody know where the ladies are bunking?” Chris asked. “That’s where I’m sleeping tonight.”

“I’m going out to watch the floor show,” Mark said. “Anyone want to come with?”

Someone knocked on the door. “Blankets,” Robert said. He opened the door. “I think we’re fine here—well well.”

Four lovely goose-girls stood in the hall, each toting a blanket and wearing a big, suggestive smile. Their faces sported identical eyes, cheeks and noses, proclaiming them sisters. “May we come in?” asked the girl in the lead.

Chris shouldered Robert aside and held the door open. “Please do.” He watched their pert tails parade past him with a grin widening into the leer zone. Robert shot him a dirty look before his eyes too were drawn to the girls’ hypnotically-swaying assets.

Mark shut the door. “I guess I don’t need to see the floor show.”

“I’m not as tired as I thought,” Jeremy agreed. “Evening, ladies. I don’t recall seeing you around these parts before.”

“We weren’t old enough before.” The girl speaking dimpled prettily. The action was mirrored by her sisters. “Dante wouldn’t let us in. That all changed in January.”

“Happy birthday,” Chris murmured thankfully.

Robert cleared his throat. “So. I’ll bet you’re sisters.”

“Quints,” the girl said. “I’m Gracie. This is Ginny, Georgia, and Gabrielle.”

Chris counted on his fingers. “That’s only four.”

“Our sister Gloria has a boyfriend. She elected not to come.”

“Too bad,” Chris said. “I’ll bet my brother Tom could charm her away from him. Ladies fall all over him. Where is he, anyway?”

“Last I saw,” Robert said, “he was trying to fall on the housekeeping staff. Quints,” he continued. “Let me guess. You do everything in a gaggle, right?”

“That’s right,” Georgia confirmed, returning his lewd wink. “Now that we’re old enough.”

“We like to flock, too,” Jeremy said, now totally wide awake. “Don’t we, boys?”

“Definitely skipping the floor show,” Mark put in.

# # #

Lights were dimmed, blankets spread, cushions piled together. The goose girls moved from cushion to cushion until pairs were decided upon. No ties, everyone agreed, only mutual fun. Good for the goose and the gander.

Robert found himself with Georgia, though his gaze kept drifting to Ginny. Jeremy obligingly brought her over. The four of them spoke in low tones, with tentative, exploratory caresses. Mark and Gracie had already progressed to deep kisses. While over in the farthest corner …

The first honk cracked on a cough. This was followed by an explosive set of bass gander honks, counterpointed by a goose’s alto warble, and finished in a honk duet. The tips of the reeds shook in their vases.

“For flock’s sake!” Robert exploded. “Chris!” While Georgia snapped out, “Gabby!”

“She do that a lot?” Jeremy asked.

Ginny made a face. “That’s one of the reasons we call her Gabby. Normally you can’t get a peep out of her. Normally.”

“I want a piece of that,” Gracie decided, and scuttled across the floor to join Chris and her sister.

“I get the winner,” Mark called after her.

“What if it’s Chris?” Jeremy said.

Mark shrugged. “Whatever. It’s been a long migration.”

# # #

Eventually the goose-shifters settled into pairs, once Chris finished with his threesome. Kisses, murmurs, giggles and partners were exchanged throughout the night. None of the geese realized it, but their positions on the floor formed a perfect V.

# # #

All throughout the Pleasure Club the supposedly-soundproofed hallways echoed with the sounds of the overnight guests finding rest, relaxation, a mate, or just a bit of fun before they resumed their long flight. A pair of wolves from the kitchen staff lugging a keg of cider to one of the rooms paused to listen and exchange superior snorts. “Honk if you like geese,” one snickered.

“Every year,” the other complained. “Same damn joke every year. Get some new material, why don’tcha.”

Year of the Ram

Sun in Pisces howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

So, here's a bit of a riff off Pat's fabulous-fun flash scene from yesterday... given it involves losing weight. But that's where the similarity ends. Anyway, this is just a man shifter and human woman getting to know one another by having dinner at one of the clubs inside Dante's Interspecies Pleasure Club complex.

~~~~~~

Year of the Ram

Zurgo smoothed a palm over his dark gray suit jacket, made of finest silk. He strutted inside the dinner club, one of the Pleasure Club's most splendid establishments -- in his opinion as an intergalactic traveler.

Pleasurably anxious to catch sight of his date, Zurgo roamed his gaze over the dim but radiant interior of the club. Couples, engaged in intimate conversations, sat at small, linen-covered tables with a pink rose in the center. Cozy booths also lined the unusually shaped room, which resembled the shape of a single spiral.

The infinity of love, Zurgo thought.

Being a touch color blind when it came to the colors on Earth, and without his color-correcting goggles, Zurgo knew he couldn't fully appreciate the club's decor, or the subtle shades of pink and black.

"At least, it's not fifty shades of gray," he muttered in his native language. A wave of revulsion hit him. As he understood it, Earth's sexual culture was extremely varied and complex. From the exquisitely beautiful to wildly bawdy and adventurous -- to an ugliness he could neither stomach, nor understood. 

Zurgo lit up inside as if struck by a healing laser beam. The woman chosen by Dante's date-finder service was an absolute beauty. Perched on an elegant bar stool, one of her shapely legs dangled, and Zurgo paused in his steps to simply stare and appreciate.

Her amazingly voluptuous curves, displayed by the brief cocktail dress she wore, caused his hands to itch with fierce carnal need. Images of him handling her soft flesh, of her curves spilling from his large hands as he pleasured her, caused his cock to eagerly twitch.

Zurgo ram-charged ahead. How cosmic-joke ridiculous the woman wanted to lose weight. As the matchmaker had patiently explained to him, his date wished to meet a suitable man with superior endurance for an extended period of sexual fun and games. Her goal was to erotic-enjoyably lose weight.

No doubt, he was the ram for the job, to put it in the colloquial terms of this Earth culture.

As he approached, Zurgo focused solely on her face, a vision of human loveliness. She'd swept her hair up in a style that not only gave her the look of a queen, but showed off her adorable features.

Once he stood before her, she lowered the fancy concoction she'd been sipping on.  The question shone in her eyes, starry jewels that reminded him of the blue moons orbiting one of his favorite planets.

"Let me introduce myself, most beautiful woman of Earth. I am Zurgo of the Dhar Vosque. Pink was the color of sunset this evening," he added the line that identified him as her date.

Her wide gorgeous smile as she offered her hand blazed his insides most deliciously. Zurgo brought her hand to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the top of her long fingers.  A musician's hands, he instantly noticed.

She could strum and play him anytime, anywhere. His entire body, whether human or when he shifted to his ram form, similar to a mature Bighorn on this blue-water world. Although, he was larger in stature, his coat longer, curlier, and golden-brown colored.

"My name is Shailynn." She spoke once he'd lowered her hand, and their gazes met.

"Ah, a musical name. May I escort you to our table?" Zurgo offered his arm, bending at the waist to accommodate her height, which he judged came to the top of his chest.

Curiosity owned her expression as she stood and twined her arm with his. "Musical," she lightly bantered. "Does that mean my name isn't to your liking, or is?"

"You'll find I speak my mind. I find your name pleasing. Your figure is more pleasing."

"Really?" Surprise lilted her voice, and her grip tightened on his arm.

"You are a beautiful woman to my eye, Shailynn. However, let's dine and learn about each other." Zurgo pulled her chair out in the gentlemanly manner he'd learned. "I make one request."

"And that is...?" she asked, seating herself at the table he'd chosen. They would have an excellent view of the entertainment scheduled for later in the evening.

"No talk of diets, or weight, or anything related. I wish to speak of more important matters." Zurgo swung around lowering himself to the chair. As a man ram he appreciated the size and sturdiness.

"Oh," she paused, "of course. Understood. It can become boring."

Zurgo reached for her hand, and as she responded, he embraced her much smaller hand between his palms. "Shailynn, choose whatever pleases your palate, and enjoy your dining experience. No worries about calories or anything diet related. Will you do this?"

After a moment of hesitation, she nodded. "Yes," she tremulously agreed, then nervously smiled. "I hear they have the most scrumptious desserts. Lover's desserts they're called."

Zurgo allowed a slow smile to curve his mouth, already pleased with her company. He lingeringly released her hand. "We have a long romantic evening ahead." With  delicious aromas filling the air, he suggested, "Why don't we order dinner?"

Even as he spoke, a waiter moved toward them, menus in hand. Once they'd made their selections, and were alone again, Zurgo placed his full attention on Shailynn.

"You are not a shapeshifter, right?"

"Only in my dreams. It's a long story." At his encouraging nod, she continued. "I was adopted, raised by parents who are shifters. They couldn't have children then...later, they did. Mom is a horse. Dad is a buck, a white-tailed deer buck."

She lowered her eyelids, then gazed at him, and Zurgo leaped into the sparkle of her eyes. "What type of shifter are you?"

"How do you know I am a shifter?" he teased in a flirting manner.

"Smell," she seriously replied. "My parents taught me how to use my senses beyond a lot of humans."

"Ram," he announced. "I hope that does not dissuade you from my company." There was no mountain high enough to keep him from this delectable woman morsel, he decided. 

"Ram," she seemed to savor. "It is the Chinese Year of the Sheep." She gave him another brilliant smile. "I'm told you're not from around these parts."

With an answering grin, Zurgo pointed straight up.

"Mountaintop." She flirtatiously rolled her shoulders.

"There are mountaintops on my planet, beautiful Shailynn."

"Oh." Pause. "Wow." Her pretty brow scrunched. "Who are you?"

Taking a chance, Zurgo offered his palm. After hesitating for moments, her hand alighted on his, so soft, then yielding to his tender grip. "We have all evening to talk about each other."

"You know, I don't care where you're from. Although, I'm incredibly curious. But if Dante trusts you...well, let's see where the evening goes."

"Like to go mountain climbing?" Zurgo asked, tongue in ram cheek.

"Not really. Is that something you require... if we...? But I'm way ahead of myself."

"No mountain climbing required." Lifting her hand, he placed a gentle kiss in the center of her palm.

"I think I'd like to climb the mountain of a man you are, Mr. Ram. But I do like hiking."

"That kind of mountain climbing is required." Zurgo wanted her climbing all over him. His cock gave a lurch to prove it. But he also adored romancing a woman. "Dinner and dancing and kisses in the moonlight first."

~~~~~~


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ~ 

Savanna 

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

The Bondage Diet

The naked man chained to the wall strained against his bonds. On the table before him sat two plates. One held juicy apple slices. The other held donuts. The man leaned longingly toward the donuts.

“No.” The woman dressed in leather straps and thigh-high boots slapped his thigh with a riding crop. “Bad boy. We don’t want those awful donuts, do we?”

“Yes we do,” the chained man whined. “They’re jelly.”

“That wasn’t an invitation to speak.” Edina whacked him hard on the ass. He moaned. She struck him again and again, just hard enough to bring a stinging glow to his cheeks. “Do I need the gag? Or the blinders?”

He looked to her face to see if a response would be allowed. At her indulgent nod, he confessed, “I might need the blinders, Mistress.”

“I thought as much.” She fixed a pair of blinders to his head, so all he could see was the apples. And her, of course. If he wanted to see the donuts he’d have to turn his head, and that would lead to another spanking. The man did not turn his head.

“Look at this.” Edina slapped her crop lightly on his flabby stomach. “And this.” With one leather-gloved hand she jiggled the folds beneath his upper arm. Suddenly she grabbed his face. Jowl spilled between her fingers. “You eat like a pig.”

“Begging Mistress’s pardon, but I am a pig.”

“So you feel you have to live down to all those expectations? Turn that svelte boar’s body into an ugly mass of pork? How do you imagine your wife feels, forced to walk down the street with a lump like you? How dare you do that to her!” She smacked his ass with her hand.

The fat man hung his head. “I’m a miserable excuse for a husband. I’m so sorry.”

“A sorry block of bacon. Is that what you want for yourself?”

“No, Mistress. I want to get back into shape. I want to be able to mow the lawn without having to stop and wheeze every five minutes. I want to walk down the street and not waddle. I want to be a boar, not a pig.”

“Good boy.” Edina fed him a slice of apple. He nearly inhaled it. Her glare reminded him of the consequences. He chewed carefully and swallowed.

“Much better,” she said. She fed him a second slice. “What have we learned today?”

“Apples good. Donuts bad.”

“And?”

“Exercise is our friend.”

“And?"

“Corn chips are not vegetables.”

“Good boy. You know what comes next.” She set the crop on the table and unlocked his shackles. The man began to quiver. “Is there a problem?” she asked.

“I—Mistress, please, don’t do this.”

“Do what?” she crooned viciously.

“Please, Mistress. Not the scale.”

“If I say scale, you get on the scale. Do I need the cattle prod?”

“No, Mistress.” Resigned, the naked man stepped onto the scale. With the blinders on, he had no choice but to look.

“Holy hamhocks!” he blurted. “I’ve lost five pounds!”

“Excellent. Excellent job, Ernie.” Edina broke character and hugged him. “That’s enough for this session. Let’s end it on a happy note.”

Ernie removed the blinders and wiped his forehead with his hand. “Hey, look. I’m hardly sweating. A month ago it would’ve been pouring off me.”

“You’re coming along nicely,” Edina agreed. “You’ve been following the meal plans? And exercising?”

“Joanie and I’ve been taking walks in the evening. And she’s starting to get, um, romantic.” He blushed all over. “She hasn’t been interested in me in that way in so long … ” All of a sudden he hugged her. “God bless you, Mistress.”

Used to being hugged by naked fat men, Edina just laughed and hugged back. “Get your clothes on, Ernie, before I have to spank you again.”

While her client was dressing, Edina called up a file on her desktop and printed it out. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. “You earned this.”

He glanced over the printout hopefully. “Another recipe?”

“Low-fat muffins. You can dress them up with walnuts or cranberries. You may have one as a snack or dessert. Does your wife like to bake?”

“Loves it. That was part of the problem.”

“All things in moderation, Ernie. That’s the key. You can eat whatever you like, if you keep to modest portions.”

“That ain’t always easy in my family. But it’s paying off.” Now that he was dressed and had pockets again, he reached into one and pulled out a handful of cash, which he handed to Edina. “Next Thursday okay?”

“I should be able to fit you in. Check with Sophie at the desk.” She tucked her pay into her bodice. “Your wife has no idea what you’re doing?”

Ernie chuckled. “She thinks I’m seeing a nutritionist.”

Edina, who was a nutritionist, smiled back. “Then we’ll keep her in the dark. I expect you to be down another three pounds by next week. If not, I shall be very cross.”

“I won’t disappoint you, Mistress.” Ernie left the dungeon. He still moved in a waddle, but if he stuck to the program that would disappear.

Edina waited until he was out of sight before she sat with a whoosh of a sigh. The boots made the costume, but were hell on her feet. Moments later her sister Sophie entered. “Ernie told me he paid you.”

“Right here.” Edina passed over the cash. “How are we doing? Any more clients today, or can I take these damn things off?”

“Sorry, sis. We’re booked until evening. You’ll just have to suck it up.” Sophie looked around the dungeon: the chains, the handcuffs, the toys arrayed on one wall, the food pyramid poster on the other. “I have to admit, I never thought a business like this would take off. We’re making money hand over fist.”

“It’s all about finding your niche, my dear.” Edina helped herself to an apple slice. “The Pleasure Club covers just about everything, but it missed this. People want to lose weight, but they feel they lack discipline. It was a natural fit.”

“And lucrative. You should write a diet book.”

“I would if I had time. Who’s next?”

“Mr. Godwin. The horse?”

Edina snorted. “He’s cheating. He thinks I can’t smell the sugar on his breath. Well, it’s the spurs for him. I’ll get him down to his racing weight if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Good luck.” Sophie darted toward the table and snatched a jelly donut. She fled the dungeon, laughing, ahead of her sister’s outraged yell.

Q and A

Sanjay led an unresisting Serenity away from the rowdy ruckus of the bachelor auction and over to a booth at the wall. From here they could still watch the action while remaining apart from it. It created an odd sensation: intimacy in the midst of a crowd. Whoever had designed the club this way, the owner had definitely gotten the most bang out of his buck.

That thought caused Serenity’s nerves to rear up and swamp her again. In spite of the number of people here, she was now, for all intents and purposes, alone with a total stranger. In fact, scratch the whole “people” label. The “people” here were shapeshifters, liable to turn into some kind of animal at a moment’s notice. Present company included.

He didn’t look like an animal. That was the problem. None of them did, until they grew fur and hooves and fangs and feathers and whatnot. It was the whatnot that bothered her most. What if he was one of those species who were, well, different down below? What if, now that she’d agreed to have dinner with him, he afterwards insisted on dessert?

“You’re getting sweaty again,” he observed. “Are you sure you’re not at least part deer?”

“I’m sure.” She wiped her hands on a napkin. “I’m human all the way. And you’re … what exactly are you? I never thought to ask.”

“Ah. The adventurous type.” He flashed those perfect teeth of his. “I’m a tiger, of course. Surely you could tell?”

Surely if she had, she would have run screaming out of the club and taken her chances walking home, all ten miles in the dead of night. A tiger? One of the big cats? They were more dangerous than wolves, and the things she’d heard about wolves …

“A tiger?” she squeaked.

“A son of Zhere Ghan himself,” he said proudly. “Even the humans have heard of him.”

“You mean the crime lord?” Dear God, she’d just bought the son of the Godfather.

Sanjay’s face fell. “I suppose he’s earned that title. At home, we prefer ‘businessman.’ I don’t take part in that aspect of his life. I assure you, I am not … packing.”

“So that bulge in your briefs is all you?”

“What—oh.” He hastily crossed his legs. His skin flushed even darker.

Even with anxiety in ascendance, Serenity had to giggle. “Maybe it would help if we got to know each other a bit. I mean, if we’re going to spend the evening together—” She cut that one off in a hurry. Yeesh. Freudian much?

To cover, she added, “You go first. Ask me whatever you want.”

“Are you older than twelve?”

“Huh? Of course I am. I’m in here, aren’t I? I think they card tweens at the door.”

“Thank Vishnu. An adult,” he murmured. “Your turn.”

“You’re not a criminal, are you? Please tell me you’re not a criminal.”

“I’m not a criminal,” he said somberly. “Neither is Guri. Father only shares his business doings with our brother Tasman, the first born. And our other brother Ravi. He’s recently returned to India. He’s running that end of the business now.”

“So what do you do?”

“That’s two questions.” He didn’t sound annoyed. “I am a student. Or was. Father plucked me out of University to drag me here to America. He said life would provide all the schooling I needed.” Sanjay sighed. “I miss the library. It’s so peaceful. You rarely get into fistfights in a library. And now I get two questions. You’re ill at ease around shapeshifters, are you not?”

Serenity snorted. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes,” he said, either missing or ignoring her sarcasm. “Which prompts me to ask why you would come here.”

“This wasn’t my idea. I was—” Crud with a dash of tabasco. Honesty, or lies? She looked into Sanjay’s open, untigerish face and realized even a white lie wasn’t an option. “I was on a date. My boyfriend—I mean my ex—brought me here to break up with me. The girl he was cheating on me with works here.” She realized she was tugging on the cloth napkin, trying to rip it apart. She tucked it into her lap. “I guess I’m single now. Is it my turn?” Sanjay nodded gravely. “Do you mind being with a human? I mean, just for tonight.”

In response, he took her hands in his. “Humans don’t offend me. You, however, are squeamish around shapeshifters. Here is my next question. Will you do something for me?”

Serenity stared at her hands, caught in his brown paws. If she tugged, would he let go? She feared he wouldn’t. She feared he would. “Okay,” she said uncertainly.

“Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. Very good. Now hold it, please.” He counted to five. “Now let it go. Slowly.” He counted while she exhaled. They went through the exercise again, and again.

Serenity found the waves of noise around her were receding into an audial blur. It was as if they’d been engulfed in a bubble that cut them off from the rest of the world, a bubble formed by Sanjay’s gentle voice. That loud, rapid thump in her ears became fainter and slower. Wait a minute. That was her heartbeat.

She opened her eyes, surprised. For the first time tonight, she felt … calm. “Wow,” she breathed. “How did you do that?”

“Is that your question?” he teased. “Very well. I’ve studied meditation. It helps on the hunt. One must be focused when stalking the prey. And should one miss the kill, one should be philosophical about it. No.” He held up a finger. “We don’t eat humans. That practice ended centuries ago. I believe it’s my turn now. What would you like for dinner?”

Serenity suddenly realized there was a server hovering by their booth. “Um … do you still serve the Clams Casino?”

Sanjay smiled broadly. “Seafood. An excellent choice. I will have the sea bass. Wine?” he asked her.

I shouldn’t, she thought. I shouldn’t drink around a predator. Oh, what the hell. He had to be the most un-predatious predator in the whole damn club. She let him choose the wine.

While the server poured their glasses, she asked herself one final question: Am I making a huge mistake? Earlier in the evening she might have said one thing. Now, with a relaxed heart rate and a glass of wine in her not-so-sweaty hand, the answer became: So what?

Bargain

(continued from Monday’s blog)

At first it looked like Serenity might just get her man/ride home. Competing bids were scattered and half-hearted. She got the impression this bachelor might not be too popular with the crowd.

Why not? He was handsome enough to turn a girl’s head. Not a shorty, not too tall. His dark face appeared blemish-free. He didn’t look too thrilled to be up on stage, like he’d only entered the auction on a bet and now regretted it. His reluctance might have communicated itself to the women, accounting for the spotty bids.

Which made him perfect for Serenity. A ride home from a man who didn’t want to date her was exactly what she wanted right now.

She topped a bid with her own for $300. No one else spoke up. Obeying gestures from the drag queen auctioneer, the man on stage struck a pose. It didn’t help. Serenity had to squelch her urge to hop up and down. She was going to make it out of the shifter club unscathed!

“Three-fifty.”

Crud. Serenity glanced over to where the bid had come from. A hard-faced older woman in a tight cocktail dress and too much lipstick gazed at the man on stage with clear predatory intent in her gemstone eyes. She licked her overglossed lips. Even at a distance, the bachelor's gulp was visible.

Serenity’s normally weak temper suddenly flared. Not my ride, you don’t. “Four hundred.”

“Five hundred,” the woman instantly countered. She snarled at Serenity, with a growl and teeth showing and everything. In her case, “cougar” was probably literal.

No way, Serenity thought. No way she was spending the night here. “Five-fifty.”

“Six.”

Double-crud with an egg on top. She’d gone over budget at $400. The man on stage stared at her beseechingly.

“One thousand.”

Serenity jumped, with an audible, “Eek!” The bid came from right at her shoulder, and the voice was undeniably male.

She risked a glance at her new competitor. Skyscraper-tall, dark-haired, dusky-skinned, wrapped in a silk suit that sneered at off-the-rack. He grinned down at her and winked.

Serenity slumped. I’ve been bidding on a gay man. In public. My life is now officially over.

The bachelor on the block flared to life. “Guri!” That was either a curse or the bidder’s name. He made it sound like both. “This travesty is for the women only!”

“I’m trying to get you a suitable date. Just stand there and look desirable.”

The bidders howled with laughter. Serenity wanted to sink into the floor. She opted for slinking away.

The tall man caught her arm and held her in place. “It’s all right,” he assured her. “Bid as high as you like. I’ll cover it. Sanjay is my brother. I want him to go to a lovely maiden, not some dried-up hag.”

Lipstick Lady overheard. She snarled at the man like a panther. Serenity’s new benefactor snarled right back at her. Lipstick Lady backed off.

Serenity shrank as far from the man as his grip on her arm would allow. Runny eggs and bacon. Her pay pal was a predator. If the one on the stage was his brother, then that meant—

“Going once … going twice … SOLD for one thousand dollars to the girl with the panicked look on her face,” the drag queen cheerfully announced. “He’s all yours, chica. You might as well take off the bra right now. Save you both some time. Oooh, look who’s up next! He’s an EMT and former football star, with a hard head and an even harder—”

Serenity’s spinning head tuned out the rest of the spiel. She was now the proud owner of some kind of shifter. She let the tall ATM in the silk suit guide her off to the side, where her purchase waited beside a cashier.

Brothers. They were brothers. Good Lord, he’d just paid a thousand bucks. Would she have to go with both of them?

Her resolve steeled its spine. As long as they had a car. That was all that mattered. The rest she could figure out when the time came.

Serenity’s ride home was buttoning up his shirt. He didn’t appear any more comfortable than she felt. His brother shoved the two of them together and then abandoned them to pay the tab.

Okay, let’s get this over with. Serenity took in a deep breath, steadied her nerves, and looked her bachelor in the face.

Oh my.

For an alleged predator, he had the mildest eyes she’d ever seen. Not in color, though. That green was intense enough to blast paint off a truck, or resistance off a woman. His sudden smile matched his eyes, peaceful and reassuring while at the same time brutally lethal. He smoothly took her hand and kissed the back of it. Serenity made a little mewling sound.

“I am Sanjay Ghan,” her impulse purchase introduced himself. “And you … ” He regarded her hand. “Are very sweaty.”

“Sorry.” Serenity snatched her hand away and scrubbed it frantically against the butt of her dress. “I never bought anybody before. I’m Serenity.”

“Serenity.” His accent turned it into a song. A little shiver took her, that for once had nothing to do with her hair-trigger nerves. “How lovely. If I may ask … are you a deer? You’ve got that look about you.”

“A deer? No! I mean, no, I’m not, I’m not a shifter, I’m just here by accident. I’m human.”

“Human? That’s even better.” A smile exploded across his handsome face like an H-bomb. “Father will shit in his pants.”

“Uh, what?”

“Excuse me.” Sanjay’s brother returned to them. He was stuffing a wad of bills back into his wallet. Serenity’s eyes bugged at the thickness of it, and the visible denominations. He slipped the wallet into one pocket and his hand into the other. This hand came up with a set of car keys, which he handed to Sanjay. “I have to leave you now. There will be many ladies who will lose out in the bidding tonight. I must stay and console them. Take the car. I’m sure I can find a ride. Or a room. Or I’ll have someone come get me.” His grin and wink took in the two of them before he sauntered away. “Enjoy your date.”

Serenity gaped after him. They were rich? They had people who would come collect them if they called? She shook those thoughts off. They were also shapeshifters, species unknown, but in all likelihood predators, and she was a jumpy human girl whose date had just mistaken her for prey.

He had a car. Good enough.

“About that date,” she started. “All I really want is—”

Her bra strap slipped again. She reached for it. Sanjay’s hand stopped hers. He took the bra strap, slid it back up her shoulder and tucked it beneath her dress. His fingers left a trail like fire up the bare skin of her arm.

Serenity’s brain flatlined.

“Have you eaten? Would you like dinner?” he asked in his musical voice.

From somewhere in the outer reaches of the universe Serenity heard herself say, “Dinner sounds great.”

Impulse Buy

Today’s post refers back to an oldie but a goodie, this one here. It’s also a two-parter. The results will be posted next week, or Thursday if there’s enough demand.

# # #

Serenity Miller tugged at her bra strap. She never should have worn a bra tonight. Sure, it made her boobs stand up like puppies begging at the table, but the underwire was cutting a line into her skin and the one strap kept slipping down. All the perspiration wasn’t helping. She reached up to fuss with her hair, caught the action and forced her hand back down.

Of all the places to get dumped, a freaking shifter bar. God only knew how many “I’m lost, helpless and afraid” signals her sweat was blasting out to the clientele. The predators would sniff it and start circling. The herbivores would smell the predators and leave her to her fate. Just like Roger had, a half hour ago.

Of course he’d taken the car.

Now here she was, alone in a club in the middle of nowhere in a skimpy skintight dress and an ill-fitting bra, surrounded by wild animals and sweating up a storm. How would they fit all that on her tombstone? She’d need a billboard, at least.

Or a cab. But when she went to the bar to ask, the bartender told her, “No cabs, not at this time of night. We can rent you a room, if you like.” He glanced at her sagging bra strap and winked.

Serenity shivered. No thanks. She took refuge in the ladies’ room and locked herself in a stall. She sat on the throne while her mind raced and her heels clacked a rhythm on the tiles. She forced them to stillness. After a second one toe started tapping again.

No doubt about it, Mom must have been soaring on pain meds when she picked the name “Serenity” for her newborn. Maybe “Jitters” hadn’t looked pretty on the birth certificate.

She knew she couldn’t stay in here forever. Neither could she leave without a car. The exit from the Pleasure Club—the name right there should have tipped her off—led through the bar upstairs, where a visible bra strap would act on the rowdy clientele like an engraved invitation. There had to be a way out of this, one that didn’t involve meshing body parts with something inclined to sprout fur.

The restroom door opened. Serenity froze. Some female something, likely not human, in four-inch stilettos paused in front of a sink. Serenity held her breath. After a moment the door opened again. A woman’s eager voice shrilled, “C’mon, Jill, the auction’s starting!” The stilettos clicked rapidly over the floor, and the door thumped shut.

Auction?

Oh, duh, she thought a second later, once her brain finally registered the notice taped to the stall door right in front of her. The Interspecies Pleasure Club presents our Charity Bachelor Auction, with details in smaller type she didn’t bother to read. She vaguely recalled seeing it advertised both in the bar upstairs and in the club itself. She’d been too concerned with fussing over Roger to pay the advertisements any attention.

Who the hell brings their girl to a shifter bar to break up with her, and then leaves her there? The asswipe who’s already found someone else, that’s who. Triple bonus asswipe points to him for timing their date to coincide with the end of his new paramour’s work shift. The two had bolted out the door while Serenity was still processing his hasty, “We should see other people.”

At least they hadn’t ordered yet. He’d only left her paying for the drinks.

I hope she gives you rabies, Serenity thought. I hope she bites your nuts off. I hope you get fleas.

Beyond the door an amplified voice boomed something that was greeted by a thunder of feminine cheers. The show must have begun.

Suddenly she thought of a way she could get a ride home. One she could ditch without trouble or qualms once he delivered her to her door. Paid escorts had to do what you told them, right? One of those men parading around on stage had to be an herbivore or something equally harmless. A hedgehog or whatever. And anyway, the poster said the money was going to charity. She’d be doing something positive for the community.

Abandoning the sanctuary of the stall, Serenity gave her bra strap a last, desperate tug and burst out of the ladies’ room. She sucked in a full breath and headed for the stage.

Oh, runny eggs. That was one huge crowd of females packed around the stage. More predators than she was comfortable being downwind of, and quite a few of those firmly ensconced in the cougar age ranges. Even the herbie girls were eyeing the line of potential dates like Eve had the apple. Serenity swallowed hard and clutched her little clutch purse. Her $47.32 in cash wasn’t going to get her very far.

She let the first two men go without bidding because they were wolves. She could tell by the way they stalked across the stage, with their tight butts wagging like tails. She did not want to be in a car with a wolf. Or anywhere else, for that matter.

A pair of brunettes who looked like sisters snapped up bachelors #1 and #2. The four left the club in a pack, heads together and hands in each others’ back pockets. Hey, Serenity thought, whatever floats your boat. She returned her attention to the stage.

The third one came out shirtless. He had to be a horse. He had hair past his shoulders and shook it a lot. He also pawed the stage with one booted toe. Definite ride home.

Serenity bid up to $200—they’d take plastic, right? They’d better—but chickened out when a blonde in a cowboy hat started hissing at her. The horse-man went to the hissing blonde, and Serenity went into another spiral of despair.

C’mon, she told herself. Don’t let them intimidate you. You want to be stuck here all night? These bitches won’t do anything to you in public. You’ve got pepper spray.

The next one, she promised herself. Bid on the next one no matter what he is. Get him and get the hell out of here. Please please please let him be something harmless.

Okay, this was promising. Unlike the previous flannelphiles, #4 had a suit on, with the jacket and shirt open to reveal a smooth, firm-looking chest. He prowled to the center of the stage and stood there stiffly, squinting against the lights.

“Now here’s a sporty number,” the auctioneer said with an open leer. It appeared to be a woman in a sequined evening gown with pink hair teased into a ‘60s beehive, but the voice revealed “her” as a man. “Who wouldn’t want to put this racy tiger in her tank? Do I hear one hundred dollars?”

Serenity’s hand shot up before she could talk herself out of it. “One hundred.”

TO BE CONTINUED

Ride 'Em, Cowboy!

Twice a month the Pleasure Club held a Ladies’ Night. “That don’t mean you get to dress up like a lady,” Jamie said to Lamar. “I do that all the time,” Lamar said in response. “Ladies’ Night gives me a chance to switch up. Keeps the act fresh.”

When he and Jamie responded to Mooney’s call and he saw the huge stuffed unicorn abandoned at the side of the road, inspiration struck. Over Jamie's objections he'd lugged the big toy home, and started planning.

The Thursday night crowd was a rowdy bunch. The women wanted men, and they wanted them handsome, muscular, mostly naked and gyrating up on the stage. Lamar had all that covered, except for the musclebound part. Snakes just couldn’t bulk up, not even the constrictors. On the other hand, no man and very few women on earth could out-gyrate a snake.

Jamie was seated in the front row as usual, and getting jostled by howling, slavering women. The previous acts had whipped them into a frenzy. Even the herbivores were clamoring for blood, or other body fluids. Everybody knew Lamar was the best male (and occasionally female) dancer in the club, after Gypsy. He hadn’t revealed his new routine’s specifics to Jamie, just smirked a lot. He’d taken almost obsessive care of the stuffed unicorn, brushing its mane and fluffing its fur.

Please, Jamie prayed to the wolf gods, don’t let it be too obscene.

The stage lights came up. Lamar burst through the curtain. He had on a cowboy hat, a leather vest, chaps, boots, and a gun belt slung low on his narrow hips, with the single holster and a long-barreled Colt positioned where mammalian men kept their hardware. He came out firing cap pistols, with the stuffed unicorn positioned between his knees as if he were riding it. The unicorn had a condom on its horn. Jamie groaned and prayed harder.

Lamar did a high-legged dismount and went into his sinuous dance. The women crowded the stage and waved dollar bills. Lamar turned his bare butt to them and twerked hard enough to rattle the Colt in its holster. He flashed a smirky grin at his audience, but mostly at Jamie.

“Why do I do this?” Jamie muttered to himself. His lament went unheard beneath the screams of the women. “Why do I punish myself like this? I ain’t even Catholic.”

But dayum, the boy could dance up a storm. Wasn’t nobody on earth could dance like a snake with its sex drive cranked up to the max. Jamie crossed his legs to hide his hard-on. Again, nobody noticed. Nobody except Lamar. The women might think otherwise, but Jamie knew that grin and wink combo was meant for him alone. What Lamar kept in the pouch behind the holster belonged to him alone, too. Jamie gave up on his scowl—Lamar always ignored it anyway—and grinned back. Lamar responded with a hip roll that got a whole passel of dollar bills waving in his direction.

After a drop to the stage floor for some serious suggestive writhing, Lamar fetched up against the unicorn. He pursed his lips and planted a kiss on the plush creature’s muzzle.

The spell Marissa had placed on the beast over the phone chose that precise moment to wear off.

The whole room shook with shrieks when the stuffed toy unicorn suddenly shimmered and grew to life size. Nobody screamed louder than Lamar. He dove off the stage into the crowd, fought his way to Jamie, and scrambled into his lover’s lap. His arms coiled around Jamie’s neck in a stranglehold.

“Dayum,” Jamie said. “I knew you had a kiss that can wake the dead, but dayum!”

“That wasn’t part of the act!” Lamar hissed. “Moon Moon! He set me up, the stinking—” His hiss dissolved into raging Spanish.

Meanwhile, the unicorn stood on the stage and stared out quizzically at the audience. He blinked and shook his horn. The remains of the condom split and went flying. The unicorn finally located Lamar amid the chaos and extended his muzzle. Lamar shrank back against Jamie.

“Does this mean no second date?” the unicorn said.

# # #

The unicorn’s name was Hugh. He could assume a human form, but chose to stay in his unicorn shape because the women clearly liked it better. They sashayed past Lamar and Jamie’s table in a steady stream, to fondle his sparkling horn or run their fingers through his mane. Hugh did nothing to discourage this, though he politely passed any dollars they waved at him over to Lamar. As far as the Pleasure Club patrons were concerned, this was the best damn show the snake had ever put on.

“I don’t know how I missed this place,” Hugh said. “I have got to come back here.”

“They’re not virgins, y’know,” Jamie warned him. “Good luck finding a virgin anywhere in Talbot’s Peak.”

“I’m not into virgins. That’s a misconception. It’s purity that gets us galloping. This whole room’s pure sex right now.” He bared his big horse teeth. “Me like.”

“Listen,” Lamar started. “When you were, uh, a stuffed toy … ”

“Do I remember anything? Just bits and pieces. I didn’t mind it, really. I was plenty drunk when I passed out. Stuffed toys don’t get hangovers. Thanks for all the brushings, by the way. My coat’s never looked better.”

“Any time,” Lamar said. “Um. Is one of those bits and pieces … ”

“The night you two played Lone Ranger and Zorro in the kitchen? Oh yeah. That was pure, too. Loved the ‘sword’ fight.” He winked. “I’m normally into women, but any time you boys would like a third—”

“We’re good,” Jamie said quickly.

Hugh rippled his coat in a striking rainbow shrug. “Your loss. Y’think maybe I can get some of these fine ladies to buy me a hard cider?”

Dante liked to bite 'trouble' in the ass...

Autumn howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

It's all about LOVE right now, as the sun enters Libra, and the New Moon rises in Libra, the astrological sign ruled by Venus.

And, yes, we ShapeShifter Seduction Authors are joining in the Snarkology Halloween Blog Hop 2014 ~ October 27th-31st. So get ready for a fun Howl-o-ween romp and ride with lots of prizes.

Also, we might just have a 'surprise' for shapeshifter readers on the near horizon. Stay tuned.

~~~~~~ 

Dante liked to bite 'trouble' in the ass...

Dante, alpha werewolf, strode along one of the longer corridors of his massive subterranean complex. Over the years the Interspecies Pleasure Club, as he'd originally named it, had grown beyond his wildest, most fantastical dreams. But that was all to the good, despite the constant demands on his time, his life.

On the way to a meeting with his staff about the UnMasked Beast Ball, one of the club's Halloween events, he waved Deuce over. The young, biker wolf shifter was one of his trusted operatives in the field.

His strong scent, along with Deuce's furrowed brow and dour expression, told Dante his 007 wolf man had stepped into a pile of scat that could erupt into major trouble. Dante liked to bite 'trouble' in the ass before it had a chance to run amok.

Dante mentally growled as images of the recent hellephant hellacious battle flooded his mind. Scat city! He could still smell the mountainous piles of the mutant mammoth werewolf's crap.

"What are you sniffin' in the wind?" he asked, the instant Deuce strode beside him.

"You know an alpha wolf named Osbourne, Ozzy for short?"

"Only by bad reputation," Dante answered, not missing a stride. "My bouncers had to toss him out on his depraved ass several times. Finally had to ban the perv-idjit from the above-ground bar."

"Sayin' something when you have to ban a wolf from a bad-ass biker bar." Deuce barked an unamused laugh.

"He was whoring out the pack's she-wolves. Consensual pleasure is one thing. Forcin' his she-wolves is another... almost gave chase one night... was about to tear his ass a new fierce one." Dante whirled, facing Deuce, who almost collided with him. "That is, until one of the pack's Shes, said her name was Destiny, grabbed my arm saying their pack was working with my sire."

A growl curled Dante's lips. His fangs lengthened. "I don't run his territory. He doesn't run mine. Right now." Pausing, he quelled his instinct to challenge his reprobate sire, Damien.  "That could change."

"Osbourne wasn't gathering intel at the bar?" Deuce looked confused, and he'd tensed, ready for a fight with their enemies.

"Had a long conversation with Destiny about her pack's inner workings. Discovered Osbourne was doing his dirty deals on the sly... right under my sire's *king of the hill*nose. I shouldn't have let it pass. Somehow she convinced me to wait. Said others in her pack were planning a rebellion. Guess that didn't happen."

"Nope. From my pricked ear, it's gone from bad to mega-bad."

"Yeah," Dante spun around, and resumed his stride. "The whole create an unstoppable monster thing with that mad scientist of his, must have consumed my sire to the point he had no eyes to see, no ears to hear...even if the anaconda could have bit his snout, then swallowed him whole."

"From my reckoning," Deuce paused, and Dante knew he waited for permission.

"Spill it scat-quick, secret agent wolf. Halloween waits for no one, and I got a room full of witches waiting."

"We can either sic Nick on Osbourne, let the G&B Gazette get the credit for exposing this piece o' filthy fur. Or, I can give the intel to Damien's enforcer pack."

"Let my sire clean up this stinking perverted mess that is Osbourne, and his minions. Has a certain ironic appeal. But hold off on yelping to the enforcer pack. I'll give Nick a holler later. Let him weigh in first."

"Got it, boss wolf. A room full of witches? Do I get to play?"  Deuce asked, as Dante came to a quick halt, grabbing hold of the door handle.

"Yeah, biker boy. All you have to do is unmask the beast you are." Dante rumbled a chuckle, amused. "Question is, can you dance the cotillion?"

"Cotillion?" Deuce cocked his head, frowning with the effort to remember.

Dante took a moment to grin wide. "Think square dancing while wearing the formal attire popular during the time of Louis XV. While costumed as your beast side."

"What the effing..."

"Look at it this way.  A lot of the ladies love it. The formal sophisticated side of a man... let's say, mated to his primitive beast side."

"Huh?" Deuce eyed him -- for a split second -- as if Dante was drunk on whiskey-marinated raw steak.

"Ever read or watch that fairytale that's not a fairytale -- "Beauty and the Beast"?" Dante arched his brow, enjoying these moments of educating the young wolf about the inner desires of some females -- whether the women knew it or not.

"Sure, know about it. But you're saying I should give up the black leather gear for foo-foo frilly shirts, breeches, and hose? Scat, didn't they wear that brocade stuff too, like those fancy Nehru jackets in the late sixties... Dad has one. "

"Come on, biker boy. I know you get plenty of humping action as a black leather beast. But this is all about impressing the ladies in a different way, letting them live their princess fantasies."

Dante watched Deuce's dark gaze change from consternation to a bright flare of understanding. "Does this work on witches? If it does, I'm in."

"Cotillion classes start next week. Sign up."

"Yeah-howls, for the ladies." Deuce grinned, and Dante figured he had one particular witch in mind. Scat, the clouding smell of his lust couldn't be missed.

With the influx of beautiful witches from all corners of the world, during the past year, Dante didn't know who the young wolf had his nose tilted to... but he obviously hadn't approached her yet.

"I'll send word to our costume designers to 'fit' you in, biker boy. You'll want to get used to wearing that Louis XV frilly gear. Feels different against the crotch, if get my drift." Dante winked.

"Appreciate that, boss wolf." Deuce shoved his hands in the pockets of his black leather pants, even as he began to turn and be on his way.

"Ever dance with a woman in one of those French era gowns?" Dante thought to ask.

"Nope. Not yet. Looking forward to it now."

"Practice makes perfect. Especially with witches," Dante teased, then shoved through the door. 

~~~~~~


Wishing you love and passion on the wild side ...

Savanna 

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

ShapeShifter Seductions ~ THE FREEDOM HOP

WELCOME to The Freedom Hop! For your reading pleasure here are original flash scenes featuring characters from Talbot's Peak, our shapeshifter-supernatural town. Some X-rated hotness ahead in some of our scenes, just to let you know. 

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…”

“What?”

“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!

Serena Shay 

~~~ 

THE FACE OF FREEDOM

Even though the town square was packed, Sergei had a bench to himself. Most people preferred to stand for the upcoming fireworks display anyway. Many were already gathered at the high school athletic field, where a day-long carnival had been going on in honor of the country’s birthday. Those who liked their fireworks without screaming children or showers of ash had assembled here in the square, where a break in the trees would provide an unobstructed view.

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 … ?”

“Mavericks. Yes.”

“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.

 

Have a safe and happy July Fourth!
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."

"What?"

"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 

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance

~~~~~~ 

Have a great Independence Day! Or just a great weekend, if you aren't American.
~ Rebecca

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