by Anne Douglas
Pearl nodded again and sniffed, the tears she’d been able to keep away all week finally falling. Shaun moved from her chair to the couch beside Pearl and wrapped her arms around her friend.
“It’ll be all right, Pearl.” Small hands patted her back in comfort. “I know he’s only my neighbor, but Rex’s never seemed like the type of guy to shirk his responsibilities. I’m sure he’ll be there to help.”
Pearl rested her head against Shaun’s shoulder and made an unladylike sniff, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Since she’d met Rex, her manners had gone to hell.
“That’s not it, Shaun. He’s already said he’ll be an active parent.” Pearl sniffed again, and more tears pooled up. “I’m pregnant, Shaun, and this…this magic that’s made me pregnant has turned me into some human hybrid that will turn furry on command.” The rest came out in a rush of nonsense. “I’m ‘mated’ to some guy I don’t even know and don’t know if I even like, and ohmigod, yesterday I puked all over him after he took me out to this really nice restaurant for lunch, and there’s something odd about how all this happened, and I had the best sex of my life on a bloody kitchen table, then I said that we had to get to know one another so no more sex…” Forced to take a hiccupping pause so she didn’t flake out from lack of oxygen, Pearl wailed out, “And I’m having a baby, Shaun.”
After a lifetime of rules and rigid social strictures, it felt good to finally let it all out, but Pearl wondered if her total meltdown might have scared the ever chatty Shaun into never-before-heard silence.
But her friend carried on patting her back, and said with a little chuckle, “Oh, Pearl. It feels good, doesn’t it?”
Pearl sat upright and rubbed over her cheeks, sweeping away her tears. She asked in a confused voice, “What?”
Shaun smiled at her, sort of in that way mothers in Lifetime movies do when their wayward daughters have just made some sort of emotional breakthrough. “To let it all out, of course.”
Pearl stared at the young woman with her dramatically painted face, black clothes, and excess of silver jewelry, and wondered just when she’d gotten so damn smart.
“You’re right.” Pearl nodded as she spoke, her mind doing double time as it raced ahead. She stood and straightened her skirt with a brisk brush of her hand, then tugged her blouse back into place with a snap. She could do this; she would let everything out that she’d been holding in ‑‑ well, within reason. She didn’t want to get too carried away; people might think she’d been abducted by aliens or something. They’d be damn close to right, too.
Pearl grabbed a tissue from the box on her sideboard and dried her eyes, then blew her nose with a great honk ‑‑ just the way her mother would have hated ‑‑ before turning back to Shaun. “You know, Shaun, when you’re right, you’re bloody well right.”
She marched over to Shaun and hauled her out of the chair. Her friend gave a little shriek when she fairly flew up in the air. “Wow, you have gotten a lot stronger, haven’t you?”
“A side effect, I think,” she said with a shrug. "Anyway, come on, I’ve got a date tonight, and you, Goth Girl, have got to make me sexy while using the most proper wardrobe in the world.”
Shaun gaped as Pearl tugged her along behind her. “Wow, when you make a move you don’t muck about with it, do you?”
“My mother drummed a lot of things into my head, but the number one rule was, ‘If you’re going to do something, do it well.’ And since I made the rules of this engagement, I’m changing them. But first” ‑‑ Pearl threw open the double doors of her wardrobe with a bang ‑‑ “I need some…ahh…”
“Long, hard lovin’ from a good man? Sexin’ up? Some sexual healing?”
Pearl felt her cheeks flush at Shaun’s playful teasing, yet at the same time she wanted to laugh. So she did, then queried with a raised brow, “How about some clothing advice first, then I’ll take a little of all of those, thank you!”
* * * * *
Caught between a rock and a hard place ‑‑ a very, very hard place ‑‑ Rex wondered what he’d done to deserve the torture Pearl was currently putting him through.
They’d made plans to see a movie together and get a late meal, hoping to avoid the disaster that had been lunch earlier in the week. He’d duly arrived on her doorstep, dressed to impress in a new pair of dark blue denims ‑‑ he’d had to replace the ill-fated jeans from Tuesday, not that he really wanted to wear them again ‑‑ and a crisp, freshly ironed white shirt. Rex didn’t consider himself a slouch in the clothing department, but knowing that Pearl tended toward more modest clothing, he’d not wanted them to stand out looking like the redneck and the slumming society miss.
That’s why he’d been so damn flabbergasted when Pearl answered the door. While he’d stood gaping on the veranda, Shaun had snuck between them and squeezed past, pausing only a moment to contemplate him like an ant would an elephant.
“Of course you’re a bear, I mean…just look at you.” Her brow pushed down into a frown. “I see that I’m definitely going to have to rethink the whole werewolf thing.”
Rex groaned. All the years he’d spent living next to the nosy teenager who’d turned into an unusual young woman and keeping her out of the Were world were rendered useless. Her curiosity would now be unstoppable. He half expected that he’d find her up front and center at the next Pack meeting.
It’s Rob’s problem now. Now that ‑‑ that idea made him want to laugh out loud till he cried; Rob wouldn’t know what hit him. Poor bastard.
She punched his arm as she slipped away, admonishing him. “And that’s for keeping it a secret all this time!”
With Shaun gone, there was nothing distracting him from the woman that waited on the other side of the doorframe. It was Pearl, but it was a different kind of Pearl than he’d seen all week. This was the woman that he’d had glorious, hot, sweaty, monkey sex with on his kitchen table.
Long, shapely legs were encased in jeans as dark blue as his, and her feet were ensconced in red, oh Lord, fuck me red stilettos. She wore a gray vest that had obviously been designed for a woman’s suit, judging by the fabric. Instead of a proper blouse, she wore nothing underneath. She wore her usual pearls, but rather than a single demure strand, two wrapped tightly around her neck.
When she turned so he could follow her down the hall, he nearly swallowed his tongue ‑‑ the vest was a halter, much like a man’s tuxedo vest, and her pearls weren’t two short strands, but one extremely long one that looped around her throat like a choker then down to a knot that swung lazily against the exposed skin of her lower back.
Everything she wore was indubitably from her wardrobe, but he sensed Shaun’s Goth Girl hand in its execution.
Rex had been knocked on his arse, and stayed there for the rest of the evening as she slowly but surely did her level best to seduce him out of his nice, new Levi’s.
* * * * *
Rex jerked back to the present and pulled Pearl’s hand away from where she stroked along the very hard length of his cock. Pearl’s antics had taken a progressive turn from G-rated to R. Very R. He muffled his groan as he attempted to straighten his legs. As he tried to rearrange his cock into a more comfortable position, he thanked every god he could think of that they were sitting in a dark movie theatre.
“Pearl, what do you think you’re doing?” He leaned in close so his hissed words weren’t heard by all, but Pearl took advantage of his proximity and turned into his lips. Her hands threaded up into his hair and tugged him closer. The sweet pleasure-pain of her yanking on his hair made him hiss for a different reason altogether, and he made no complaint when her lips pressed roughly against his. Lost to the movie, it was only when a voice came from behind them that they remembered where they were.
“For God’s sake, get a room, why don’t you, or at least go find a chick flick to make out in. How’s a guy supposed to enjoy blood, guts, and gore when he’s got a live porno playing out in front of him?”
Pearl’s gasp o
f righteous indignation was enough to have Rex on his feet. She was a new Were, and a pregnant one, dumped in at the deep end; confrontation would only bring out her beast, and that could only cause problems.
“Damn good idea, man.” Rex yanked Pearl to her feet and hustled her down the row of chairs and into the aisle; looping her arm under his, he practically carried her out the emergency exit door and into the parking lot.
When he pushed her back up against the side of his truck, her little angry growls stopped, and a low sexy rumble started up instead. “I wasn’t sure there for a second, but I think you’re right. This is a damn good idea.”
How she did it, he had no idea, but somehow she turned him around so he was the one up against the truck. Rex barely had time to brace himself before Pearl climbed her way up his body and wrapped her legs around his waist. As he wasn’t quite balanced, they fell back against the truck with a panel-popping thud that pressed Pearl up against him like she was a stripper and he was the pole. Quite apt, really, considering his dick felt like a bloody steel bar.
Pearl’s hands wound through his hair again, holding him tightly as she fairly ate at his lips. Pearl made a cacophony of sound as she mewled and growled, and moaned and groaned, while she rode his cock like a cowgirl on a prize bull. She tore her mouth away and shouted to the sky, “Yes! More, just like that!” and Rex had to wonder what the hell alien had taken over the woman who was usually so uptight and proper she’d make a Hells Angel quake in his boots for being too loud in a library parking lot.
His hands clenched into the generous flesh of her arse ‑‑ he loved that she was well padded there ‑‑ and he jammed himself as close as he could get. He rubbed the stiff column of his shaft against their combined zippers, relishing the dig of the metal against his flesh in a sick, sick way, and then captured her mouth anew. He made sure this time to leave no doubt that it was he who was the aggressor. Pearl went soft and limp in his arms as she let him fist a hand in her hair and tug her head back to expose her throat.
With a growl, he latched onto the tender area with gentle force, just letting his canines graze Pearl’s skin as he gave her his love bite.
“Aw, for Pete’s sake, you two, I said get a room, not a back seat!”
Rex snarled as he looked over Pearl’s shoulder and saw the man who’d been sitting behind them in the theatre standing at the exit door. The stranger’s eyes were dilated and his breathing fast, so Rex figured the way he was holding the door so it didn’t bang shut had nothing at all to do with politeness. He’d been getting his rocks off by watching them.
Pearl’s head was buried in the crook of his neck, and he heard her whisper, “How embarrassing!” in a mortified voice.
It was then he knew that Murphy’s Law had struck again, and the only date his dick had at the end of tonight was with his hand.
Chapter Twelve
Her doorbell rang at six-twenty, and when she opened it, she was floored to see the man she’d been privately referring to as Paul Bunyan standing comfortably in a dark, single-breasted dinner jacket. The fit of his suit was perfect, from the drape of the trousers over his thighs, to the width of the shoulders. He’d dressed the suit down by leaving the top two studs of the formal, wing collar shirt undone, and he wore no cummerbund. He appeared relaxed, assured, and rakish. Oh, so very rakish. Another new side to Rex Dixon she hadn’t expected.
“Good evening, Pearl.” She stepped aside and let him through the door. When he moved past her, he sniffed appreciatively. “Mmm, you both smell and look wonderful.”
Pearl had done plenty of entertaining, with her parents and now as a hostess for her father, so she had plenty of clothing options. But this tea dress was new and a little different, with its old fashioned elegance, and it pleased her no end that he liked it.
Tiny pleats followed a deep V-neck into a loose, empire waist yoke. Puff sleeves with a thin band finished off the bodice, while pretty lace inserts fell from the yoke to a delicate hem. The dress was made from a thin batiste ‑‑scrunched up, there wouldn’t be more than a handful of fabric ‑‑ and came with its own risqué slip to wear underneath. It was dainty and demure, elegant and old world, and with its daring, modern-day, plunging neckline, absolutely oozed sex.
The dress had hung in her closet for months, an impulse purchase that she’d had no idea if she’d ever wear, but tonight, it had been the first and only thing she’d reached for.
“Thank you, Rex. You scrub up pretty nicely yourself.” He blushed as she leaned back against the now closed front door and inspected him from head to toe. “You look all playboy dangerous, like James Bond…”
Rex smiled and stepped forward, bringing her hand to his lips, but turning it palm up. “Dixon, Rex Dixon, at your service, ma’am.” He parodied the famous lines, then brought her wrist to his mouth and pressed hot lips to her pulse point.
Rake, indeed!
* * * * *
The Grande Dame lived in the Forest Estates, the second of two overpriced subdivisions that the town sported. The rest of the plebian folk, like Rex, were quite happy to not live behind high walls and iron gates.
Besides the beautiful houses with perfectly manicured lawns, sparkling pools, and garages large enough that no car would ever, horror of all horrors, be parked on the road, the other thing that the Forest Estates had going for it was that it was a Were-only subdivision.
Not that the general populous knew that.
Pearl spoke. “My mother tried to convince Dad to buy a house in here when this development originally came open for bids. They’d even offered on a place, but at the last minute decided to back out ‑‑ something about it being too big with just the two of them after I went away to college.” Pearl looked around the subdivision with curious eyes, taking in the opulence and the green spaciousness. Perfect for a Were with a need to run around in its skin now and then ‑‑ not that she knew that at this point.
He’d found out through the grapevine that Pearl’s father was Judge Gordon, so it didn’t surprise him that the cash was there, but that they’d gotten as far as contracting on a house here did. Considered Rob’s unofficial second, Rex had been privy to a lot of things, but he’d always wondered why any Weres up for judgment came up under Judge Gordon’s gavel ‑‑ though, until now, he’d had no reason to ask Rob further about it. It’d turned into a busy week. He hadn’t been able to touch base with Rob, and every time he’d tried to phone he’d gotten a busy tone, so he still knew no more than what he’d started with.
“Really? It costs a bucket-load for a house here.” As soon as he said the words, he realized how crass they sounded, especially when they were dressed to the nines. Rex winced as they passed under a streetlight, and he saw how Pearl’s cheeks had flushed.
“My dad has a lot of money, not me. I won’t say I’m not privileged. I grew up with the quintessential silver spoon in my mouth, but I earn my money just the same as you do.” Pearl looked out the window, and he saw the hand that rested on her thigh jerk as a wolf ran from beneath some trees. “Was that a…?”
“Yes, a wolf.”
“So Weres live in the Forest, too?”
“Only Weres live in the Forest.” Pearl’s lips made a little “O” of understanding in reaction to his statement before she frowned. He figured, as it had for him, her parents’ near purchase of a house here raised more questions than it answered for her.
But soon enough, she shook it off and went back to the last part of their conversation. “I won’t apologize for owning my house outright. I had a mortgage just like everyone else until my mother died. And, frankly, I’d rather have my mother back than have the money she left me.”
“I’m sorry, Pearl. I really hadn’t meant it the way it came out. I know all too well what it means to lose a parent.”
Silence reigned for the last few minutes of their journey, broken only when they turned into the tree-lined driveway that led to the Grande Dame’s home.
“Who’s going to be there tonight?�
�� Pearl had shifted in her seat, her knees tucked together politely as she turned her body toward his. “Anyone I know?”
As he turned the key and the headlights turned off, bathing them in the murky darkness, Rex put his hands back on the steering wheel and tried to relax his suddenly stiff arms. Tonight was going to be a first for him. He’d never come to one of these evenings with a date, knowing exactly how it’d be perceived ‑‑ he might have left with a woman on his arm, but never arrived with one. “Rob will be there, usually four or five Elders and their spouses, and other people by invitation. It sort of depends on what’s been happening recently.” He shrugged, trying to express nonchalance to Pearl, while also trying to loosen up his shoulders ‑‑ like talking about emotions, shedding his playboy image wasn’t easy.
Pearl didn’t say anything, but gently laid her hand on his forearm. He let his arms go slack as the comforting warmth of Pearl’s palm sank through his shirt.
“You’re not the only one who’s feeling nervous; I’ve never walked into a predator’s den before.” Her uncertain smile put him in his place. After all, this might be considered a statement of intent to his Pack and the cessation of his free and easy lifestyle, but for Pearl, this was literally like hanging onto the end of the pirate’s gangplank with some alligators snapping below her feet.
He figured she would handle it with aplomb, though, so he took the conversation breaker she’d lobbed at him and ran with it. “Well, not that you’ve ever known about anyway…”
Pearl blinked a couple of times as she processed what he’d said, then laughed. “After all the people who waved a ‘paw’ at me on Monday morning at the Greasy Spoon, I’d have to agree with that.”
Rex chuckled; he’d heard from Dave that same evening when he went in for some dinner that the Greasy Spoon had outed itself as a Were hangout. “I heard about that.”
Rex opened his door and exited the car, then made his way around to Pearl’s to do the same. She took his proffered hand and slid elegantly out of the vehicle, and Rex was reminded again of how classy Pearl had been raised to be. Her manners, in public at least, were perfect. In the bedroom, though, she’d proved more than able to let go of her propriety.