by Sy Walker
“This place is big enough for a family,” she said. Then she remembered what Devon had told her, about all of his friends going off and getting hitched. They hadn’t mentioned kids before, but she could tell by his sorrowful look and sigh that she had hit a nerve. “I’m sorry,” she said upon realizing.
Devon shook his head. “It’s nothing.” He gave her a smile and led her by the hand over to the couch.
She sat on the couch and looked up at him as he shrugged off his leather jacket, revealing his muscled arms. He was wearing a slightly tight white t-shirt with the black letters W.W.A. on it, as if it was a stamp. Isabelle hadn’t noticed it before because it was dark in The Crazy Cactus and she’d been taken enough by his cute face that she didn’t worry about what he was wearing. She couldn’t decide whether she should go for him right then and there.
However, Devon was not on the same wavelength. He moved towards her and his mouth was on hers, his tongue exploring her mouth. She allowed herself to relax and sink both into the kiss and into the couch. Before long, he had moved her so she was lying down on it and he was on top of her, making out with her and fumbling with the fly on her jeans.
“Are you…” she gasped between kisses, reaching down and helping him pull off her pants. “Are you really a werewolf?”
Breaking off his kissing, Devon suddenly smiled a sinister sort of smile at her. In a flash, she watched as his eyes changed from hazel to gold. He shifted into a gray and brown wolf before her eyes, the morphing causing his clothing to rip and stretch but not be fully destroyed.
Isabelle was afraid to move as he panted and slobbered a bit, still leaning over her. “Do you still doubt me?”
She shook her head. He had been handsome before, but something about this was making her wet for reasons she couldn’t even understand yet.
He shifted back into his human form, and she was yanking off his pants and shirt in not time. Devon went down between her legs and ripped off her panties with his teeth. Then he went down on her, licking at her lower lips and flicking his long tongue against her clit.
“Ohhh,” she moaned, writhing on the couch. “That’s nice. Good boy.” She licked her lips.
Devon raised his head, smirking at her and showing off his fangs. He was being a good boy right now, but that did not mean it was going to last long.
He continued to lap and suck at her until she arched her back off the couch and came, pulsating and squirting a teensy bit in the process. Devon loved it.
Isabelle was mesmerized by him. His cock was hard and long, and it did not take him long before he mounted her and thrust it inside of her.
“Ahhh!” she shouted, feeling both the pain and pleasure rushing through her. He’d been a gentleman, letting her come first, but now it was his turn and she knew all bets were off.
He grabbed ahold of her sides, digging his nails into her skin as he pounded into her, staring into her eyes with his gray ones, though she noticed a shimmer of gold in them now, especially when he thrust deep inside of her, as though touching that far in brought the beast back.
After a few moments of fucking her like that, he pulled out and spun her over so she was on her knees, holding onto the side of the couch with her hands. Devon inserted himself back into her, and the thrusting continued. He grabbed her boobs in his hands and squeezed them tight enough to leave a few marks later.
Isabelle brought her head up, moaning and closing her eyes tightly.
“Yeah,” he groaned, putting his head on her shoulder. “You like being my bitch, don’t you?”
When she didn’t immediately reply, he slapped her ass. “YOU LIKE BEING MY BITCH?!” he howled at her.
“Yes!” she shouted, feeling the next orgasm was imminent.
Suddenly, the girth of his cock increased.
“Oh fuck,” she said. “Oh fuck. Oh fuuuuuccckk!!”
Devon grabbed her and held her to him, biting her neck as he came inside of her, riding the waves along with her. Once it was over, he pulled out of her, staying close and breathing heavily against the back of her neck.
Isabelle looked at him with wide eyes. Her neck was bleeding and she was pretty sure she was going to have a limp for a few days, but that had been incredible.
“I’m glad we’re staying at your cabin,” she told him. “We don’t belong in civilization.”
Grinning at her, Devon kissed her hotly and then went away, into the kitchen.
He came back with a bowl full of water and a wet washcloth. Carefully, he cleaned the wound on Isabelle’s neck. “I think I got a little carried away,” he said sheepishly. “I haven’t had sex in a really long time.”
She smirked at him. “Thank you for doing that.” She thought of something. “I’m not going to…?”
“Turn into a werewolf?” he asked.
Isabelle nodded, feeling guilty for some reason. She wasn’t the one who had instigated that or had bit anyone.
Devon chuckled and shook his head. “No. The moon has to be full and I have to not be controlling my instincts for that to happen. But, if you want to become a werewolf, let me know.” He winked at her.
Once her neck was all cleaned up and she had a bandage on it to keep it that way, Devon went into the bedroom to put on something for sleeping. Isabelle stood up and followed him, feeling shy about walking around naked. “It has been a long time for me, too, by the way,” she confided. “My ex-husband wasn’t exactly interested after we were married. It was like the certificate ruined everything for him.” She frowned.
“Hey,” Devon said, handing her one of his big t-shirts to sleep in. “No feeling sorry for yourself. It’s his loss.”
Isabelle put the shirt on. It was a black Pink Floyd shirt. She could not imagine him wearing it and suspected that was why he was letting her sleep in it.
His bed was big, with black and white sheets. It felt weird to be sleeping in a bed after they’d just had sex on the couch. “Won’t the couch get jealous?” she asked him.
“Not after we do what I’m thinking we’ll do in the bed.”
She grinned at him. “Oooh, when’s that planned?”
He laughed and got into the bed, under the sheets. He patted next to him. “Get in. We shouldn’t worry about anything else until we’ve slept. I don’t know about you, but I’m dog tired.”
Doing as she was told, Isabelle climbed into bed. They hadn’t brushed their teeth. She supposed that was one of the things they’d have to worry about in the morning. “Wolf tired,” she corrected.
Devon scoffed and turned out the light. “Not everything needs to be a wolf pun.”
The next morning, when Isabelle woke up, she saw that Devon was still sleeping peacefully beside her. She glanced at the nearby clock. It was ten thirty in the morning. She didn’t want to get out of bed, so she stayed there and watched her handsome date as he slept. When it became eleven o’clock, she moved closer to him and kissed him gently on the lips to rouse him.
“Mm,” he mumbled. “What time is it?”
“Eleven,” she told him.
Slowly, he opened his eyes and let out a yawn. “What do you want for breakfast?”
She smiled at him. “Whatever you have in mind. I’m easy.”
Devon looked at her and chuckled. “Mm, I know you are.”
He got out of bed and stretched again before heading out to the kitchen in only his black boxers. She liked that he slept in only his underwear. It was sexy and no frills. Her ex had always slept in thick, plaid pajama bottoms, even when it was ninety degrees outside.
When Isabelle joined him in the kitchen, he was already in the middle of making their breakfast. “Egg and salmon sandwiches,” he said proudly, proving to her that he was essentially making the first thing he’d found in his fridge. “You’re not vegan, are you?”
Isabelle laughed and shook her head. “Even if I was, I’m not such a bitch that I wouldn’t eat what you’re making me.”
“Ahh,” he said. “You’re just not a strict vegan
.”
“Shut up,” she said, giggling. “I’m not a vegan, all right?”
They sat together in his kitchen and ate their non-vegan breakfast. “Wow, you really know what you’re doing,” she said, impressed. “It’s not every day that I come across a werewolf biker who can also cook.”
Devon smiled at her. “It’s just a sandwich,” he said. “The things that I can make come down to three specific categories: sandwiches, pastas or pizzas.”
“Have you ever made a pizza pasta sandwich?”
He laughed and shook his head. “But that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it.”
As soon as she had finished her breakfast, Isabelle went back into the bedroom to find something she could wear that wouldn’t be too loose or too silly looking. She didn’t have a lot of luck, but she ended up miraculously fitting into a pair of Devon’s black skinny jeans and wore one of his button-up shirts opened over a black t-shirt. She did a lot of tucking to make the shirts look like she’d meant to wear them.
When she came back out of the room, he looked at her and did his best not to laugh. “You look really cute,” he told her sincerely. “If you want, I’ll take you shopping for some new clothes, too. It’s my fault, after all.”
She smiled. “You’ll get very far if you keep that attitude.”
Devon showered and changed into another outfit of jeans and a t-shirt, throwing on his leather jacket again. He whistled for her to follow him and they left the cabin to get back onto his Harley.
He drove her into the small town nearby. Sure enough, he was right. The only clothes she could find were bathing suits, tourist t-shirts and sundresses for wear on beaches. She yelled at herself internally for not thinking ahead and packing some clothes just in case. After all, this had all been a one night stand situation from the beginning. She did not know that she’d be camping with him by a lake, but she’d known that she’d stay the night.
“It’s okay,” Devon said, paying for her new bathing suit and sundress. “If I have my way, you won’t be wearing much of anything this weekend anyway.”
She did not mind that, though it was really pretty by the lake. Isabelle had been looking forward to this spontaneous weekend vacation. She couldn’t exactly go out on the lake in nothing but her birthday suit.
At least, not while the sun was up. In the evenings, all bets were off.
CHAPTER FOUR
A Pina Colada At Trader Vic’s
After their weekend of sheer bliss, Isabelle rode on the back of Devon’s Harley, holding on to him tightly. She had enjoyed their time together, but she was starting to feel the nagging self-doubt again. She didn’t deserve to be with this young, handsome guy. In fact, she should be ashamed of herself for wasting his time!
She prepared herself for the inevitable – or what she thought was the inevitable – the whole ride back to San Bernardino and her car. But, once they got there, she couldn’t tell him how she felt. When she looked at him, all she felt was happy, fluffy, heart-pangs of affection for him.
Was it love?
Fuck, it’s not that bad, is it?
“Thank you for this weekend,” she said to him. “I enjoyed it tremendously.”
Devon smiled at her and opened her driver’s side door for her. He did not need to do that at all, but he didn’t care. He was being nice. The last thing she needed right now was for the bad boy she’d found to be nice to her. It was just going to make things much harder in the end.
“I’ll text you,” he told her. “Please text me too, okay?”
It was ridiculous for this to be so normal.
“Okay,” she replied, nodding at him. She carefully got into her car and he closed the door for her.
As she drove herself back to L.A., she tried to think of the best words to send to him. She had to let him go. She just wanted to let him down easily. After all, it wasn’t him. It was her. She was too old for him. How could he not see that?
Of course, wording that message was not going to be easy. And it seemed so cowardly to do it via text, and not in person.
She decided to just let things settle back down to normal, focus on her work, and maybe talk to Ramona about it first. Her friend was more experienced with the intricacies of this whole situation. Ramona had never been married, but she’d gone on plenty of flings with werewolves, etc., if what she had told Isabelle was true. Right now, she was probably the only person she could trust about this.
“Why do you want to break up with him?” Ramona asked her, surprised and pouty. “He sounds like quite a catch.”
Isabelle sighed. They were chatting over Skype, which was not ideal, but she was doing what she had to in order to get the advice she needed. “He is quite a catch, but for someone much younger.”
Ramona scoffed. “You act like you’re fifty already. You’re not so old. He’s less than ten years younger.”
“But just barely!” Isabelle feared that she was getting nowhere with this.
Days passed, and she could not bring herself to send the Message of Doom to Devon. They texted each other little flirty pieces of conversation. Mostly ‘hello’s and ‘how are you’s. Isabelle felt guilty the whole time, but she did not want to hurt him. And she also had to admit… She didn’t want to let him go. Not yet. He was the bright spot in her life at the moment. He let her feel special and loved. She didn’t want to go back to feeling down in the dumps.
One morning, she woke up, determined that it was going to be the day. She would let Devon down easy, and then try to move past it. Unfortunately, as soon as she got out of bed she had to rush to the bathroom.
“Oh shit,” she said, looking at herself in the mirror as an entire nine months of pregnancy seemed to have hit her all at once. She had grown tremendously, especially around the stomach. She felt sick and tremendously hungry all at once.
Isabelle was not going to be telling Devon that things were over. At least, not yet. For now, something major was just beginning.
She called in sick to work. That was obviously only a partial truth, but she couldn’t likely tell them that she was pregnant with a werewolf’s baby. Her divorce was known about by everyone who knew her, and she didn’t want to be judged for running off and getting herself knocked up with the first new man who entered her life.
But that was what had happened, and she hated herself just a little more because of it.
Lying in her bed, she next called Devon. She didn’t think she’d be interrupting him. After all, she didn’t know what his job even was. Riding around on his motorcycle? That was hardly a job.
He answered right away. She knew he was only too happy to be talking on the phone with her. “Isabelle,” he said excitedly. “What a pleasant surprise! How have you been?”
“I’ve been better,” she said a bit shakily. All of a sudden, she started to cry.
“Aww, what’s wrong?” he asked, sounding so sweet to her. It only made it harder. “I’m not doing anything right now, really. Do you want me to come over?”
Isabelle felt like she should say no. “Yes,” she said, going against her immediate thought. “Yes, please… I’m fine. I’m just. I’m pregnant.”
There was a long pause. At first, all she could hear was his breathing. She wondered if he was angry about it. They had not used protection. At the time, Isabelle thought it would be fine. She took birth control pills and she was always so good about taking them at the same time every day…
Apparently, werewolf babies could not be stopped by pills.
“I’ll be right there,” he told her. Devon didn’t sound angry at all, actually. He sounded almost… happy.
It would figure. The young wolf would be happy and excited about this; meanwhile Isabelle would be stressed and scared about it. That right there was just another sign.
“I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” she said. “You’re too young for me.”
There was no response from the other end of the call. Because Devon had already hung up.
Isabelle hit herself on the forehead with her cool, metallic cell phone. This was going to be completely unavoidable now. They were going to have this talk in person.
Making an effort to clean herself up, Isabelle took a shower. The warm, soapy water did help to lift her spirits, though she still couldn’t get over how much weight she surely must have gained in no time at all. There had been no warning signs. She had not even had time to take a pregnancy test. But there was no denying that that was what had happened. She had been impregnated by Devon.
One she had showered, she slipped on a loose black baby doll dress, and brushed her black hair. She felt ashamed of herself for letting the whole weekend play out the way it had. She should have been more upfront with him from the start. Isabelle was looking for a quick, easy thing. A rebound. She wasn’t trying to start something new… She wasn’t trying to get pregnant by Devon.
She hoped that he wouldn’t be upset that she was so shocked and upset by this. She just did not know how to feel. She didn’t want a baby. She’d never gotten that far with her ex, and now that this was happening, she thought that maybe she wouldn’t have wanted to get this far with anyone.
There was a knock at her front door about an hour later. Isabelle didn’t get very far with cleaning, but she doubted that it would matter too much. He was bound to see her in a more messy state down the road. That is, if they stayed together. She still fully intended to give him an out.
She opened the front door. Devon took one look at her and grinned. He hugged her before she was expecting anything. “Come on in,” she said.
He came into the apartment and seemed to be unable to take his eyes off of her. “You look beautiful,” he told her.
Isabelle scoffed. “Now you’re just kidding with me.”
Devon shook his head. “No! It’s true. I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”
“That wouldn’t have anything to do with me being pregnant with your baby, would it?” Isabelle sat on her couch, putting her feet up on her coffee table. Before, she hated it when anyone did such a thing to her precious furniture. But now that she was so far along in this sudden pregnancy, she needed to relax. Her back was killing her.