Bad Boys of BDSM Omnibus No. 1

by Anita Lawless, Leigh Foxlee, C. J. Sneere

  He was changing…

  His bones cracked and broke. He screamed and crumpled from the intense pain that lacerated his being. His muscles went into intense spasms as his DNA shifted his skin.

  His vision changed, and so did his perception of his surroundings. Something primal, ancient, invaded his mind and flesh. He was human but not.

  Then there’d been death, blood, shredded fur. The taste of raw meat and wet copper in his mouth. His nose was constantly wet, and every smell seemed amplified in his nostrils. Like he could smell each grain of pollen in the wild sunflowers he trampled through.

  He’d woken up in the park again, with two police staring down at him in confusion.

  Tamara shook his knee, bringing him out of his thoughts. “You sure you’re okay?”

  He gave her a weary smile and got up out of bed. His shoulder still throbbed when he moved quickly. “I’m fine, hon.” He spoke through clenched teeth, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

  “We can call off dinner tonight,” she said. “I don’t mind--”

  “No.” He whirled around, breathing hard, feeling funny. “Nope. Tonight is special.”

  She smiled at him, drew closer. “We could just stay in and do something special.”

  He thought about the ring tucked in his top dresser drawer for over a month now. He thought about coming out to her. Something he’d put off since the attack. Maybe now was the right time? A sharp pain lanced through his shoulder. Maybe it couldn’t wait until dinner. He winced and went to her. They sat on the bed.

  “Tamara, I have something to tell you.” He looked into her wide, blue expectant eyes. She was a beautiful woman, he thought. Dimples in her cheek. Two blonde braids falling over her shoulder. She had farm girl charm. He took her hands and continued. “First, I’m bisexual.” He waited for her reaction.

  She shrugged, smiled, and looked interested. “That’s fine. Confession? I read gay porn. So I like a little man on man action from time to time.”

  He laughed at this, feeling relief until pain seared through his ribs, making him double over.

  “Warren!” She grabbed his arms and helped him sit back up. “I think we should get you back to the hospital.”

  His response was a guttural growl that made her skitter off the bed, eyes wide as she gaped at him. “Shit, what happened to your face? Let’s get your coat and--”

  He growled again and his nose stretched out, elongating as it moved farther from his face and tapered to a muzzle.

  What the hell is happening? he thought frantically. If he was a werewolf--which he’d been considering in earnest these past few days--shouldn’t he only change on the full moon? Why would the change happen now? He had to try and get control of it before he hurt Tamara.

  I was stressed, he thought as he struggled to bring his mind back to human. I was stressed about telling her and I started reliving events in the park…

  …the change occurred.

  Tamara shrieked, “You’re some kind of a monster” and ran from their bedroom. Tulle dove under the bed.

  Warren let out a garbled cry for her to “Stop. Wait.” He focused harder on stilling this new beast within, hoping his efforts would work as he stumbled from the bed in search of his girlfriend.

  Soon his vision cleared and the pain ebbed. He’d tried to invoke calming thoughts, a meditative state, even though he was right in the heart of chaos.

  He felt his canines retract to normal. Saw the extra hair recede back into his skin, just as Tamara ran out the front door, crying and babbling incoherently.

  He went after her. “Tamara, please, wait!”

  She slipped inside the elevator, but he was still a few feet away. The doors slid shut, obscuring her mascara and tear streaked face, and his heart sank. If he went for the stairs, ran at top speed, he might be able to meet her at the front entrance to their apartment building. He made a beeline for the stairwell.

  Warren’s sneakers squeaked on the lino covering the steps. He fled down the final staircase, flung open the side entrance, and sprinted to the front of the building. All the while, the beast raged inside, trying to claw its way out of his flesh and be free. He barely managed to contain it, but as long as he focused all his thoughts on something calm and pushed the beast back, it seemed to work. For now, at least.

  “Tamara,” he called out as she fled down the sidewalk, just a few feet ahead of him. “Let me explain.” She frantically tried hailing a cab as she went.

  He put his last boost of strength beneath his heels, crossing the short space between them just as a cab slowed down at the curb in front of her. He touched her arm, and her fingers paused as they opened the car’s back door.

  “What…what are you?” she whispered, looking up at him through a veil of golden lashes.

  “I don’t know.” He shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans and sighed. “I think I’m a werewolf.”

  She shook her head, screwed up her face. “That’s insane. I… I’m sorry, Warren. I need some time to think.”

  He put his hand on her wrist, stopping her from entering the cab. “But I was going to propose to you just now.”

  Tears came then, spilling down her ivory cheeks. “I… can’t. I need some time.” Then she pulled away from him, slid across the cab’s back seat, and slammed the door shut.

  The cab left the curb, taking Warren’s heart with it. He stared after it, mouth gaping as he processed the events of the last half hour. His girlfriend just left him, essentially, he was a werewolf, and he had a chicken for a dog hiding under his bed upstairs. The females in his life just didn’t want to be around him. Could he blame his girls, though, really?

  Shoulders slumped, he turned and headed back toward his apartment building. The beast snarled deep in his chest, and Warren closed his eyes, stopped to concentrate on stilling it. Okay, so intense negative emotions could bring his new furry self to the forefront. He’d have to work on this big time. What could he think about now, focus on, to cease the change?

  Try something positive, he thought. Something you enjoy.

  Sex popped into his mind, but then he promptly thought of Tamara, and that just defeated the purpose. More hair sprouted on the back of his hands. He felt his teeth elongating. His chest expanded.

  Think about sex with a guy! his brain screamed. Why not? It had been a fantasy since puberty, and one that calmed and cheered him.

  So he pictured a hot stud as he walked back to the apartment. A tall, slender male with wide blue eyes bending over for him, offering up his smooth, white ass. Warren pictured sliding his long, thick cock into the man’s tight, pink ass…

  Until the shriek coming from the alley across the way startled him out of his reverie.

  He looked around. It was early evening and the street traffic, people and cars, was surprisingly low for a Saturday. He was the only person who’d heard the scream, it appeared.

  He slowed down and glanced in the alley. At the very back, cloaked in shadows, a struggle ensued. Three men clustered around a fourth, and they were taking him down. As his knees hit pavement, he let out a fierce howl. The tiny hairs on Warren’s neck rose when he did so.

  He’s a werewolf. He’s trying to change to defend himself. Warren stepped to the edge of the sidewalk. If any of the other street stragglers had heard the commotion, they were just ignoring it now, preferring a ‘don’t get involved’ approach.

  One of the men holding the werewolf down brought his arm high above his head. Something silver glinted in the dying afternoon sun. Then it came down in a glimmering wink and sliced across the kneeling werewolf’s neck. Even at this distance, Warren saw hot blood gush. He felt sick to his stomach, but he fought back the urge to puke.

  Then one of the attackers drew back from the fallen werewolf, letting him tumble to the ground. As he did so, he looked around, and that’s when his gaze fell on Warren.

  He swallowed hard and froze. The man stepped from the shadows enough to show his features, and his face was impr
inted in Warren’s mind. So was the smell. A pungent aroma rose from the alley and drifted to his nostrils. The scent of rotting vegetables.

  The attacker staring him down moved lightning quick. Warren blinked when he spotted the man half way across the street. He hadn’t even seen the guy leave the alley. But he was coming for Warren, bloody knife held low at one side. His face was long and sharp, and he wore a maniacal joker’s grin.

  Okay, now might be a good time to change, Warren thought. He sped-walked away from the scene and tried to focus on bringing the wolf out full force. But when he focused on unleashing the beast, be damned if he couldn’t do it.

  He chanced a glimpse over his shoulder. The attacker was right on his heels now. The man raised his gleaming blade and licked some blood from the knife, sending a silent but powerful message Warren’s way.

  Warren tried to make his teeth grow. He tried to push his nose out, or sprout fur. But nothing happened. Didn’t that just figure. His day, his life, had gone from great to shithole in less than two months. He knew it had been too good to be true.

  The attacker was two feet away now. Warren was at the alley just before his apartment building. His front steps were so close.

  The attacker lunged and became a blur of motion. Just as he materialized inches from Warren, someone reached out from the alley next to his apartment building. They grabbed Warren with fierce strength and pulled him into the narrow corridor of darkness.

  The attacker gave a loud, disappointed snarl.

  Someone yanked him down the trash strewn concrete. “Just keep running,” this person said, leading him around bulging green dumpsters and splintered crates fashioned into lean-tos.

  The attacker pursued, swishing his knife and now cackling madly. Warren didn’t know if he was any safer with this stranger who’d grabbed him, but if the guy saved his life there had to be a reason, right? He hoped so.

  Then the lights went out. He was shoved down a hole in the ground, and his stranger hero said “Grab the ladder and go. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Carefully, he picked his way down a cool, metal ladder. The rungs were embedded right in the concrete, and moist air wafted up the tunnel as he descended, giving his cheeks chilly kisses.

  Soon light filtered up from below. The illumination allowed him to see his rescuer better, who now climbed down after closing the man hole cover. He was a slight man, average height, wearing black jeans and a red t-shirt, but Warren couldn’t make out his face just yet.

  He’d expected it to smell, considering he was entering the sewer, but the only smell was that of old dirt and musty shelves. Warren dropped down when the ladder ended a few feet above a brushed dirt floor. Instead of the sewers, he found himself inside sandy catacombs. Electric torches dotted loamy columns of sandstone. Hallways led off in different directions, while doors lined the walls of what looked to be an underground crossroads.

  “You’re a newborn,” his rescuer said from behind him. “The one Ambrose left for dead when he killed the rogue wolf last month.”

  Warren whirled around and took a good look at the man. He had the most penetrating royal blue eyes he had ever seen. A short mop of medium brown curls fell over his forehead and tucked behind his ear. His lips were full and bright, like a kid who’d drank too much cherry Kool-aid.

  “How’d you know that?” Warren asked.

  The man gave a brief smile that appeared weary. “Most vampires, and many supernaturals, can read minds. I see the pictures flashing through your head, the words, and I can read your energy signature.”

  “Energy signature?” Warren squinted, but still kept his distance.

  The vampire nodded. “Everyone has one. But with supernaturals it’s stronger.”

  “Where are we?” Warren drew nearer. “You’re a vampire?”

  The man’s smile was genuine this time, showing his sculpted cheekbones. Then he suddenly disappeared.

  When he next spoke, he was at Warren’s side. “You’ve come underground, Warren. This is where the monsters live. Would you like to join us?”

  “What?” Warren jumped, startled by the vampire’s nearness. “How do you people do that?”

  “Most supernaturals can move at hyper-speed.” The vampire shrugged. “A quirk of our condition, I suppose.” He started walking off toward one of the hallways, and Warren followed.

  “You said I’ve come underground.” He scratched his head, thought of Tulle alone in the apartment. “I need to get back above. I have a dog, a job, a girlfriend.”

  “Your girlfriend left you.” The vampire pinned him with those shining jewel eyes. “As for your dog, I can make arrangements to have Tulle brought to you. But, if you stay with us, you must forget your life above.”

  “I don’t think you’re hearing me,” Warren protested. “I can’t stay here.”

  A beeping sounded from the vampire’s jeans. He pulled a cell phone from his pocket and read a text message. “Shit. Just once I wish my intuition would be wrong.” He looked at Warren. “Fine, stay or go. It’s your decision. But I do need your help, and judging by the way you handled your lycanthropy earlier, you could use some lessons in handling your new monster side.”

  Warren clenched his teeth, flexed and released his fists. “Yeah, I could use some help with that. What’d you need?”

  The vampire held out a hand. “I’m Sid. Nice to meet you Warren. I need you to help clear my ex-lover of a murder charge.” He held up the text message, which basically said, ‘I’ve been framed for what happened in the alley.’

  Warren frowned. “That was quick.”

  “News travels fast in the underground.” The vampire led him down a sinuous hallway, explaining the situation as he did so. “See, Avery, my ex, fell in with some people he shouldn’t have. I suspected they’d come seeking revenge. Now they have.”

  Suddenly, he pinned Warren against the wall. The heat from his body penetrated Warren’s skin. He was a handsome man, this strange vampire. His face had that old world patrician look about it. His attitude was confident and smooth. Warren found, gazing into this vampire’s eyes, he could easily be seduced by this man. A mixture of danger and promise wafted off of Sid.

  “You saw the murderer. You smelled him, didn’t you?” His soft lips brushed over Warren’s.

  “Yes…” Warren stammered. “Yes, I did. He smelled like rotten vegetables.”

  The vampire nodded, and when he did his lips skimmed up and down Warren’s, but he denied a full kiss. “Could you identify him if you saw him again? The others with him, too?”

  Warren tried to breath normally, and he felt the wolf in him stir. That wasn’t the only thing stirring. His penis twitched in his pants. “I would know him if I saw him again, I think. The others? I’m not so sure.”

  “That’ll be good enough.” The vampire reached down between them and stroked Warren’s cock through his pants. He gasped as his shaft began to stiffen. “Tell me, Warren, why have you never been with a man? I know you’ve wanted to.”

  “I…It just never happened.” Warren wasn’t so sure he was cool with his every thought being read, but this vampire was turning him on. The adrenaline from a breakneck, chaos-filled day mingled with the chemistry he could feel building between him and this man. The vampire flit a velvety tongue over his bottom lip, cupped his ass with two strong hands to pull him close, and Warren let himself melt into a primal kiss.

  Their wet tongues dueled and danced. Warren expected his wolf side to rear up at the man’s touch, but it calmed at the intimate embrace, quieted.

  The vampire pulled away long enough to speak. “Negative emotion agitates it, makes it think it’s in danger. Pleasure and positive emotions soothe it. I’ll teach you how to talk to your wolf side clearly.”

  Then he plunged his tongue back into Warren’s mouth. He tasted every inch of it. His teeth, the roof of his mouth, the sides of his cheek. Warren moaned into the vampire’s mouth, then slid his hands up the man’s sinewy back.

  “Come
inside and spend the night,” the vampire whispered against his cheek. The hand at Warren’s cock worked its skilled magic. “Let me access your memories, plant the killer’s face in my mind. And I know just the way to do that, newcomer.”

  The vampire led him to a rounded, black door made of polished slats. Old fashioned hinges held it to the sandstone wall. He pulled a round ring in the center and the hinges creaked as the entrance gave way.

  “My home.” Sid indicated with a hand, and Warren cautiously peered inside.

  A beam of blue neon fell through heavy drapes slightly parted at the middle. Sid flicked a switch, and the apartment filled with yellow incandescence. Cushions were scattered everywhere, but there was scant furniture, save for a walnut coffee table that sat on squat legs and a round floating bed draped in plum colored sheers. The coffee table was littered with debris--everything from cigarette butts to half smoked roaches to empty take out cartons.

  Warren went to the window and looked outside. Beyond, he found a whole new world waiting for him. There were buildings, but nothing like he’d seen on Earth before. Loamy columns rose up like miniature skyscrapers made of sand. Squat houses dotted an alien landscape. The streets were cloudy with dirt. And, everywhere, monsters walked.

  Through the smudgy pane of glass, he saw creatures with horns and tails. Giants with blue skin and glowing eyes. Others looked human, like Sid, while still others sported three heads.

  He turned from the window, mouth agape, and looked at Sid. “What is this place?”

  Sid smiled, curling those rosy lips of his. “I told you. You’ve come underground.”

  He pointed to the city outside. “There are people down there with three heads.”

  Sid laughed, exposing his sharpened , elongated canines. “That’s nothing compared to what you’ll see if you stay a while.” Then he patted the bed. “Now, come here. Let me inside that mind of yours.”

  Warren felt his cock twitch at the offer, but he hesitated. “No tricks?”

  Sid pulled his t-shirt over his head, exposing a chest that moved with fine, delicate muscle. “No tricks. Just pleasure.”