Werewolves of Chicago: Xavier

by Faleena Hopkins

  “You just got laid not too long ago.”

  I shoot a look to his somber profile. This is not a conversation he and I don’t love having. “They were a snack. This woman’s a meal.”

  He nods. “But you won’t because you—”

  “—Yeah.”

  “He deserved it.”

  “Tell his kids that.”

  “They know.”

  In silence we walk. My oldest friend and I. I’d left the pack for a while when I became a cop. Curragh and Draik were wilder than now, though they’re still more primitive than Howard will ever be. I’m just like them. I tried to live within the laws of normal society. Couldn’t do it.

  A part of me wants to tell him I went to her house. Her work. Almost kissed her. I wouldn’t mind the feedback. But I also am more than a little disgusted with myself. “It’ll pass. I’ll just keep staying away from her.”

  “Uh huh. Probably a good idea. Why can’t you hear her heartbeat?” I blink at the sidewalk, realizing they didn’t believe me when I said I’d heard her heart later. This whole time they’ve known.

  A man walking his terrier on a pink leash with bows on its ears walks toward us. Curragh and I scowl at him.

  “Give the dog some dignity,” I mutter as we pass. He glances back at me, but we’re already well past him. “Did Draik hear it?” Since he could eavesdrop from Sandra’s and knew she’d never talk to the cops about us, he went back several times and listened in on what was going down in the Foster household. He wanted to see if the abuse was a one-time thing. During that time, Kara checked with the school and confirmed it wasn’t. We all went over there and had some beers at Sandra’s, not telling her that we were investigating. That was when we heard it, the night the decision was made to do something about it.

  Curragh nods. “He did. I asked. Figured you were too proud to.”

  There’s fire in my voice as I defend my supernatural abilities. “It’s not my hearing. There’s a block with this one. I can’t fucking understand it.” We turn the corner. “Have you ever heard of this?”

  “Nope.” He looks up at the darkening sky. “Draik either. War of course never has.” He emphasized the new name and throws me a look. “War? Really?”

  On a low chuckle, I tell my beast of a buddy, “Don’t underestimate him. He’s earned that name.”

  Curragh grumbles, “I know. But I like fucking with him.”

  “I enjoy you fucking with him, too. Keep it up.” We both grin. We’ve gone around the block. Sooner than I want to be, we’ll be back at our building. I stop walking. He looks at me, feet spread wide as he crosses his arms. A gunshot rings out and we both hunch over, taken off guard. Searching the surrounding area, we come up empty. Another shot rings out.

  “The roof.” I point and a large man in a hood aims at me. With lightening speed Curragh shoves me to safety and dodges the bullet by a quarter of an inch.

  Our boots leave dents in the asphalt as we race for the entrance. I kick the fucking door down, blood eagerly pumping. I am going to kick this motherfucking Russian’s ass all the way back to the winter wonderland he hails from. The elevator is ignored as Curragh and I take the stairs. We don’t hold back. Who cares who sees us? Adrenaline is pumping and that guy is going down. Now.

  Crashing onto the roof, we search it but no one is there. “Where’d he go?” Curragh growls.

  Rapid strides bring us to where the guy hung over the edge with the rifle. We’re both sniffing the air, muscles tightening up as soon as we catch a good whiff of wolf.

  “I thought he looked familiar,” I snarl.

  “Lewis!”

  Emily

  What are you doing? Turn around and go back to that…bus stop.

  The thought is so not appetizing that I decide it’s better to go through with this embarrassing plan. Low clicks echo off the walls as I walk across the cold, white tile and turn left into the first room. The sterile room is vacant and eerie, as a morgue should be. Blinking into the empty, florescent-lit space I adjust my purse on my shoulder and frown. A voice sounds behind me, scaring the crap out of me.

  “Mrs. Foster?”

  Yelping and turning around like a shot, I lock eyes with the handsome young coroner. “Oh, Dr. Peters! You scared me.” Being in a morgue sure did get under my skin.

  “Sorry.” He walks forward with an awkward smile.

  This is so high school of me. But I had no other choice. I haven’t seen Xavier again for another week and he’s all I can think about. I have no idea where he lives, works, or anything!

  I couldn’t just sit around and hope anymore.

  “Can I help you with something?

  “Um…maybe? I’m so embarrassed,” I mutter, pushing a lock of deep brown hair behind my ear. “It’s just I have a question.”

  Nervous flickering in his eyes. “They haven’t been able to find anything from the zoo. I’m terribly sorry.”

  Flushing hard, I stammer, “It’s not about my husband.”

  “What it’s about?” he asks.

  “Wait. Really? They haven’t? What was it then? What did that to him?”

  Dr. Peters frowns, shoving his hands in his lab coat’s pockets. The white, polyester fabric pulls atop his wide shoulders. “I think someone’s lying.”

  “Oh.” I look down at the floor, considering this. “Hopefully they caught the animal at least.”

  “I think that must be what happened. Now they’re just covering their tracks. Lots to lose.”

  “Yes,” I whisper, remembering my children. A lot to lose. “What time is it?” I mutter to myself, pulling my phone from my bag. I still have another hour before they need to be picked up. It’s Friday. I’ll have the whole weekend to make their lives better than what they have been.

  “Mrs. Foster?”

  “Huh? Oh, sorry, I was thinking that I have to pick my children up from school soon.”

  He nods, running a hand through his mop of light brown hair. “Can you give me a second?” Pulling out his phone, he doesn’t wait for my answer as he texts something into the phone. Hitting send, he looks up and smiles. “You said you weren’t here about your husband?”

  “Did I?” Oh, God. Do I really have to go through with this? “No, it was about him. I was just nearby and wondered if you found out…anything.”

  We stare at each other, the silence uncomfortable and long. “I wish I had something better to tell you. My friend Xavier was very concerned about you.”

  My heart involuntarily jumps. “Oh? You talked to him about me?”

  “Yes.”

  I’m waiting for more, but that was it. “What did he say?”

  On a quick frown, he glances to the side, maybe because he has nothing else to share, or doesn’t want to share more. I hope it’s the latter. “Uh…he’s not a big talker. I could tell he was concerned though.”

  Xavier was concerned about me. Why is that so surprising? He did find out where I worked. And showed up at my door before that. On a night when the rain was stronger than it had been in months. God, to have kissed him in that rain. Wouldn’t that have been something else? My hand flutters to my chest because my heart is slamming so hard it feels like I’m having a heart attack or something. The young doctor is staring. I see his eyes locked on the buttons of my blouse and when I catch him, his soft brown eyes dart away.

  “He was definitely concerned. I think…I should…would you like to sit in my office?”

  “What? No. I have to go. My kids. School is letting out soon and I have to take the bus to get them.”

  “Do you have to go right now?”

  “Well, I do have a little bit of time.”

  “One minute. It’s important.” He holds his arm out, waiting for me.

  Important? What’s important? I’m staring at him, very unsure of what he has to say. He was just staring at my chest. Is he hitting on me?

  “Please. You won’t regret it.” A hesitant smile appears.

  What can he do to me in a pl
ace like this? He’s working. This has to be a professional thing. Although, why was he just looking at my chest?

  “Okay. Just one minute though.”

  Dr. Peters leads me to the other lab room where in the back a large office sits. There are two desks, a couple unstylish lamps, diplomas on the wall and four chairs where you’d expect them to be. At the smaller desk closest to the door, he sits and motions for me to join. I take the seat across from him and cross my legs, my pencil skirt pulling tightly across my thighs.

  “What is it?”

  “How have you been?” He leans back in his chair, hands clasped over his middle like he’s an old man with a beer gut. Which he is anything but. It looks like he’s playing at an idea of what he should be like and it’s laughable to say the least.

  “Sorry? As best as I can be, I guess.”

  “It’s been hard,” he says with a slow, therapist nod.

  I cock my chin. “Of course it has.”

  Actually I’m fucking awesome. I’m glad the children and I are free of that bastard for good. Does that make me a bad woman, Dr. Peters? Or, Howard, is that what your amazingly enigmatic friend called you?

  You’re not wracked with grief!! What are you, some kind of evil bitch!?? And don’t call me Howard!!! You don’t deserve to call anyone by their first name unless that name is Lucifer!

  “Mrs. Foster?”

  “Hmmm?” I blink back to the present and grab my bag. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what this is but you’re not a shrink and I have to go get my kids.” Standing up, I whip around and run smack into Xavier.

  His dark eyes are glowering at me like they had that first day I saw him. His nostrils flare like he’s a bull about to gorge out the matador’s heart. My hand jumps to my mouth and I scream. His face relaxes and he takes a step back, completely disarmed.

  “XAVIER!” I catch my breath. “Dammit, that’s the second time I’ve jumped out of my skin today.”

  “What happened? Did someone come after you?” he demands, stepping closer and throwing Dr. Peters a look like he’d better explain.

  What is he doing here? Then I remember that text message, and I look over my shoulder with my mouth agape, locking eyes with the young coroner. He offers me a crooked smile, instantly giving himself away. He is indeed the matchmaker of this awkward moment. I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life. Or grateful. Eternally grateful. Does that mean he wants his friend to be with me?

  “No one came after me. Nothing like that. I’m just a little jumpy I guess. Morgues have that effect on most people, I guess.” Muttering my way around him, I add, “Excuse me. I have to go.”

  “Let me give you a ride,” he offers, his voice thick.

  Turning around, I lock eyes with him and feel my whole body warm under his intense gaze.

  “Okay.”

  Emily

  He puts a hand on my upper back to guide me out and when he drops it, I let out the breath I’d been holding. It’s not until we’re in the parking lot that I realize we didn’t say goodbye to Dr. Peters. I feel light, like we’re floating to his Jeep. I keep my hand by my side, but he doesn’t take it again. Why would he, after how quickly I’d recoiled last time? Well, I wouldn’t pull back today. It’s so good to see him. I thought maybe I wouldn’t ever again. I want him to touch me so badly I can feel my heart beating between my legs.

  He helps me up by my elbow into the Jeep. I glance to meet his eyes and we hold a charged look before he closes the door and goes around. Not a word is said between us as we drive toward the elementary school. I keep stealing glances at his lap because that enormous bulge is back and I am pulsing with desire to climb on it. I want him to touch me so badly it is killing me.

  I force myself to sound casual and friendly, but my voice comes out anything but. “How have you been?”

  Staring at the road, he flatly answers, “A lot going on.”

  “Oh?”

  He doesn’t offer more. I love how his hands look on the wheel, how the muscles in his forearms undulate as he turns it. I want to brush my fingertips softly along the contrast of his lips in that thick beard of his. Fuck if my panties aren’t moist and hot just from being close to him. He’s barely spoken to me, and here I am, his if asked.

  Xavier glances to my lap and grits his teeth like he can tell I’m wet for him.

  I want you. I want you. I want you.

  I reach over and lay my hand on his crotch. His tan knuckles go white. A short grunt sounds from his parted lips. His eyes stay locked on where we’re headed. I begin to massage him and my panties get soaked in the process. One of his hands leaves the wheel to cover mine and he helps me, his hips arching up as he groans. His breath shortens to little gasps. “What are you doing to me, Emily?” he rasps. “Fuck, I want you so badly.” Making him groan is such a turn-on and the pulsing grows in me. I could just rub against this seat and make myself cum, but what would he think of that? I so want to. I just want to ease this ache! He turns the wheel and mutters, “No,” as the elementary school comes into view. He releases my hand like a shot and I withdraw it and bring it back to me.

  “Do a lap,” I whisper, my voice quiet.

  He gives a curt nod and flips the car around. I pull out my phone to check the time. They won’t be out there for another fifteen minutes.

  I am on fire. My pussy is screaming for his touch. His fingers look like heaven and the way he looks at me when he pulls over unexpectedly and stops the car is enough to make any woman’s resolve to be proper or prudish, disappear.

  He reaches over to my lap. We’re in bucket seats and I watch his hand work its way under my skirt. “Let me help ease that ache you’re feeling,” he growls. I swear to God he just fucking growled. How does he know how turned on I am? But he does. He knows and he wants to help by touching my pussy. My breaths are short and I’m pounding. The rough skin of his fingertips touches the outside of my panties as our eyes lock.

  He murmurs, “Fuck, these are soaking wet.” I can’t help but moan when he says that. “You want me to finger you right here in broad daylight?” I moan again. He lightly touches the wet cotton and slides his fingers under it, stroking me and seeking out my aroused clit. “Tell me you want me, Emily.”

  “I want you,” I breathe, arching closer to his hand. His eyes close on his desire for half a second. Then they go hard with lust and he pushes his index and middle finger into my wetness. I moan and hold onto my seat as he thrusts them all the way in and then builds up a rhythm. He’s so good. He moves with my moans, slows down before he speeds up again, fingering me like he knows my body better than I do. This is all it takes. I grab his arm and hold it there when his fingers reach the deepest they can. I moan under an orgasm that’s waited years to explode out of me. It is so sweet and so hot that I am whimpering in the seat, trying to swallow down tears.

  The emotion surprises me. I need for this not to be the only time. I’m so stunned I can’t meet his eyes anymore, not until he withdraws his hand and licks his fingers. Shocked, I look over at the sound. He’s not looking at me while he does it. It’s like it’s the most natural thing for him to do, that’s how his face is. Totally calm as he shakes his head and mumbles, “Damn. I didn’t expect that to happen.”

  Swallowing the urgency and passion of my feelings, I whisper, “Me either.”

  He reaches over and opens his glove box, handing me a napkin. “Here. Clean up with this.”

  “Thank you.” Frowning, I do so quickly, then turn to stare out the window as the Jeep pulls away from the curb.

  Xavier

  Just that taste of her was amazing. More than I thought I’d get, so I’m rolling with it. Feeling her cunt quiver against my hand was enough to satiate my need for release. For now. It told me she wants me. She wants me to fuck her. I don’t care how much of a lady she is, she wants my cock.

  I am going to claim that woman’s body and make it writhe sooner rather than later. It can’t last between us, but it has to happen at least once. W
e have to fuck like animals until this desire we’re feeling is satisfied and we can finally move on with our lives.

  Today was just an appetizer. I gave her what she needed. That’s enough. I’ve been wanting to look out for her. That’s all this obsession has been. Guilt. That’s all.

  I’ve just found out how I can help her.

  She needs a release.

  She needs the pressure taken off.

  She needs my cock.

  And I want to give it to her.

  “The wolf man!” her kids scream as we pull up.

  Emily throws me a guilty look and I nod to her, letting her know it’s all good. Her secret is safe with me. She gracefully slides out and helps her children into the backseat. My eyes are on their tiny human hands as they grip whatever they can get a hold of to clamor in. At five and six, these two are ridiculously fragile-looking.

  “Were you at Mommy’s work?” Michael asks.

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Because you must have picked her up if you’re here.”

  “Ah,” I half-smile. “Yeah, I picked her up from work.” Emily throws me a look of thanks. Of course I’m not going to tell the kids I picked their mommy up at the morgue. There’d be all kinds of questions about what that is. Questions I have no interest in answering. “You only work days, then?” As if I don’t know the answer to this question already.

  Emily glances to me as she buckles in Sofia. “Yes. I’m looking for a night job, though.” A frown quickly appears and she snaps the buckle and ducks out of the back. “Honey, you almost forgot Eddie.” Swooping to the sidewalk, she produces a small stuffed elephant, and hands it to Sofia.

  The children are watching me, so I make sure not to stare at their mother too much. But it ain’t easy. Sexy single mother in another old pencil skirt and blouse, this time cotton.

  As she slides back into the passenger seat, she locks her own seatbelt and calls to her kids, “You guys ready to go home?”