by Liza Street
Rafe pulled back after a minute, nipped her bottom lip, then moved his lips to her ear. “Later’s good for talking, because I can’t wait to touch that needy, greedy pussy of yours again.”
Brigitte gasped and stepped back. Oh, he had no idea how much his dirty talk turned her on. Or maybe he did know, given the big smirk on his face. She could play his game. “Then what’s stopping you, mister?”
Eyes dancing, he said, “Your pants.”
That was a challenge if she’d ever heard one. Turning to face away from him, she eyed the windows, making sure the blinds were tightly drawn. She felt reckless and crazy, but not that crazy. Keeping her back to Rafe, she inched her leggings and underwear down.
He let out a soft moan behind her, but didn’t move. She bent as she pushed her leggings to her ankles. Her backside was mostly covered by her long shirt, but not entirely. She stepped out of her leggings and panties and kicked them away.
She peeked behind her. Rafe’s eyes were on her body—specifically, her butt—and she could see his erection straining against the front of his jeans.
“Stay right there,” he said, his voice strangled. “No, don’t stand up. Stay bent over like that.” He took the three steps’ distance between them with one long stride, then knelt behind her.
One long swipe of his tongue against her folds. She threw her head back, eyes fluttering shut, and moaned.
She was already so wet, she could feel the liquid against the inside of her thighs. Rafe touched her there, his finger sliding against her skin, until he pressed it inside of her.
He added another finger, and she thought she might not be able to hold herself up.
“Grab your ankles,” he said.
Folded in half, she could look between her ankles and see Rafe’s legs behind hers. Her hair pooled in crazy curls on the floor. Rafe’s fingers moved inside of her. He brought his other hand forward—or was it his tongue?—she was so wet she couldn’t tell—and he stroked her clit.
“Rafe,” she whispered, panting.
He kept up his onslaught, fingers inside of her, fingers outside of her. Feather-light touches against her clit, but relentless thrusting pressure inside. She came, bursting suddenly in a surprise orgasm, panting his name.
He grabbed her around the hips before she could fall, and helped her stand upright. “Easy,” he said. “Let’s sit on the couch.”
“Aren’t you…” She pointed at his erection, still large within his jeans.
“Not yet.” He licked her juices from his fingers while a scorching look shone in his eyes. “First, we talk.”
She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice. “Oh.”
He laughed while he held out her panties so she could step into them. “And once we’ve talked, then I’m going to fuck you silly.”
“Rafe!” she said. “Language.”
“When you say it like that,” he said, his smile wide, “it makes me want to swear more.”
She moved to put on her leggings, but he was faster. He balled them up and sent them sailing over the breakfast bar and into the kitchen.
“There’s something extremely sexy about a woman in panties and a t-shirt,” he said. “Especially when that woman is you.”
She wondered how many women there’d been—who they’d been—but it was idle curiosity; she didn’t really care. They were here together, now, and she’d embraced the good in her life.
Still, Rafe deserved to know why she’d been so closed off earlier.
He sat down on the sofa and opened his arms to her. She cuddled up against him.
“So,” she said.
“So.”
“So I was in a relationship. It ended a year ago.”
She felt Rafe nod. “Okay.”
He didn’t pressure her for more, and she loved that. Taking a deep breath, she said, “One of the men died.”
He got very still. “One? Of the men?”
She couldn’t read his tone. She pulled away to look at his face, but he pressed her to his chest again.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m surprised, but it’s okay.”
Brigitte cleared her throat. “I had two boyfriends at once. It was a relationship between the three of us.”
“But one of them died,” Rafe said.
“Lance.” Brigitte sighed. The sadness was still there—it always would be. Sorrow for Lance, sorrow for Marcellus. But she could live with it now. “He died in a motorcycle accident after we’d all just had an argument about marriage.”
Dreams of their forever had shattered like his skull.
But now, she had a chance at a new forever.
“So things were serious,” Rafe prompted.
“Very. They were both dominant, and I was submissive, but that was mostly in the bedroom. Still, the kink was present, especially in the fact that we were in a polygamous relationship. When Lance died, quite a few gossips in our small town found out about our relationship. Marcellus disappeared—he’s an addict and this threw him back into drugs. He didn’t even come to the funeral. Then slowly but surely, I was driven out of town.”
He tensed beside her. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
“Not physically. It wasn’t a pitchforks and torches kind of thing. More like a systematic removal of any kind of support or friendship. It was easy to see that I wasn’t wanted, that I didn’t belong. Maybe someone stronger would have stayed, but I had no one to keep me there anymore. So I left. Moved here to Belnedge.”
It was easier than she’d expected, telling Rafe about all the trouble of the past. Maybe part of it was that he was listening quietly, his breathing even. Maybe part of it was how safe she felt, cocooned in his arms. Or maybe it had to do with how she was genuinely letting go of all those bad feelings from the past.
“I’m glad you came here, of all places,” Rafe said, tightening his hold on her. “I’m glad you came to Belnedge, and that you’re mine.”
“Yours?” she murmured.
“Yes, mine.”
“What makes you so sure?”
He moved slightly, as if uncomfortable, and Brigitte sat back.
“What aren’t you telling me?” she asked. Then she remembered. “The magic.”
He nodded, his eyes wary. “How much do you believe?”
“I don’t. That was Nanny Mae’s thing. Never mine.”
“What would you do if I told you it was real?”
“I wouldn’t try to talk you out of it, if that’s what you’re asking. Everyone’s entitled to their beliefs.”
“What if I proved to you that it was real?”
This was new. Nanny Mae had never tried to prove anything; when Brigitte, as a girl, had asked, Nanny Mae told her she’d learn in her own time, when she was ready.
Noticing her hesitation, he said, “Brigitte, this is a big part of me. It’s all of me. And I know—I know—we have something lasting and special. It will work even if you come into it without understanding who I really am. It’ll work, but you won’t know all of me.”
Not know all of him? Unacceptable. “Tell me, then.”
With his eyes locked on hers, he said, “I’m a shapeshifter.”
“Wh-what?” She’d heard the words, but they weren’t making sense in her mind.
“I can change my shape. Turn into an animal.”
She scooted away. “I don’t…this isn’t…”
Tears started leaking from her eyes. She wasn’t sad, she was overwhelmed. Was he crazy? Was he fighting some kind of delusion? Did he need help?
And yet, Nanny Mae’s stories echoed in her head. Tales of humans who could turn into eagles, bears, wolves. Tales of vampires. Tales of humans who could change things, do spells, adjust the world around them like Nanny Mae.
“What animal?” she asked. Not that she believed him, yet.
There was a yet? She was considering believing this? She was willing to let him convince her?
She’d fallen harder for this guy than she’d expecte
d.
“A mountain lion.”
Brigitte nodded, feeling detached. “You could show me.”
“Do you really want me to?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Then I’m not going to shift here, now,” he said. “But at least we’re going into this without secrets.” He kissed the top of her head. “I think maybe I should spend the night at my own place. I can see you have a lot to think about.”
He stood and walked to the door. Brigitte followed him. There was so much going through her head, she wasn’t sure what he was saying.
“Brigitte, can you look at me?”
She looked up, met his gaze.
He breathed out in relief. “Good. Listen—it’s not just shapeshifters who are around. Vampires, too. That’s who took you before.”
“Vampires?” She clenched her fists, felt lightheaded with fear. “No. No no no.”
He pulled her into a hug. “You know it’s true, don’t you? That’s who took you before. Somehow they got you to forget all about it.”
Tears filled her eyes once more. She felt the truth of what he was saying, and heard his fear. “What should I do?” she asked. “Am I in danger?”
“I think everyone’s in danger. We don’t know their rules yet, but we know they don’t come out in the daytime. Could you please stay in at night?”
She didn’t think she’d ever leave the safety of her apartment in the dark ever again. “I won’t go anywhere,” she promised.
“Good. My, uh, my group, we’re working to fix things with the vampires. I even found your other shoe today—it’s in my car and I’ll give it to you later.”
She nodded, not knowing how to respond.
He gave her a swift kiss on the forehead and rubbed his chin against her cheek. “Brigitte? I love you.”
She stared up at him, shocked. Again she felt the truth of his words, and that truth was warm, full, and pure, washing over her and filling her with love.
Hardly understanding anything and operating on feelings alone, that surety that had been with her since he carried her out of the woods that day, she whispered, “I love you, too.”
Twenty
Walking out of Brigitte’s apartment was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. But he’d told her so much, revealed so much, that he knew she needed time to think. He couldn’t imagine living in the human world for years and then suddenly finding out that other creatures existed. Vampires showing up in North America was a big enough change to his worldview—imagine if he hadn’t known shifters existed.
He leaned against her closed door, taking a deep breath of the night air.
He’d hoped she’d be more open to the idea of shifters and vampires, but hadn’t expected it. Every part of him wanted to turn around, knock on her door, ask to come back inside so he could hold her and answer any questions.
Before he could give in to temptation, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He swore. Marlana. It was always Marlana. He held the phone out to read while he walked. Pride meeting, immediately.
*
Marlana and Jeff’s place looked different at night. Elegant, with the strategic lighting in the front. Nothing too bright or showy, so the mansion would still look like it belonged in the wilderness—at least, as much as a mansion could look the part.
Several pride members had pulled into the drive at about the same time, including Laura and Nina.
“I’m making Marlana pay for new movie tickets,” Nina was grumbling. “I wanted to see the end of the show.”
Laura laughed. “Good luck with that.”
The two women caught up with Rafe. Nina leaned over and gave him a one-armed hug. “How’s it going? What did Marlana interrupt for you?”
Immediately she tensed and pulled away. Rafe heard her sniff. Shit—he’d forgotten to wash his hands. He’d licked Brigitte’s fluids from his fingers, but that wasn’t enough to erase the scent. Plus, after all their hugging and cuddling, he probably smelled like her. It was bad form to mess around with someone and then wear their scent. He wasn’t ashamed of what he and Brigitte had done, but he didn’t want to be the kind of guy who flaunted his sexual activity to the rest of the pride.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I’ll wash up when I get inside.”
Nina’s look was horrified, though. She finally broke his gaze, then lurched away, rushing toward the front door.
“What is it?” he asked after her.
She didn’t acknowledge his question. Laura looked after her sister, who was slamming the door behind her. Laura turned to face him, giving him a dirty look.
“Hey, I said I was sorry,” Rafe said. “I wasn’t trying to be a jerk.”
“You don’t get it at all, do you?” Laura asked.
“No?” he said, making it a question.
“You asshat, she’s in love with you. She has been, for years.”
Rafe felt his mouth fall open. Nina was in love with him? But he didn’t—he’d never…they’d never shown each other much interest. He thought back to their one brief hook-up, seven or eight years ago. It had been fun, but far from meaningful.
What if, all this time, she’d been interested? All of those looks she gave him, the way she was more touchy-feely than anyone else…maybe it was just Rafe she touched. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t remember her showing much physical affection for anyone else.
“Oh fuck me,” he said.
“She wants to, obviously.” Laura blew out an exasperated breath. “You’re too focused on yourself to realize anything else around you. Then you come back smelling like sex and you practically rub it in her face.”
“She hugged me!”
“She always hugs you. And that doesn’t matter—I can smell the other woman from over here.”
“Look, I didn’t mean to. This is all a misunderstanding.” Rafe wouldn’t want to hurt anyone, least of all Nina, who’d always been a friend.
“Explain it to her, not me,” Laura said.
Rafe nodded. “I’ll see you inside.”
First things first, he had to wash his hands. Nothing he could do about his clothes smelling like Brigitte, but he didn’t care about erasing her basic scent—he just didn’t want the others to smell that he’d spent glorious minutes fingering her.
Around the back of the house was a hose with a bar of soap next to it—left out in case anyone went for a run and then found themselves too dirty to come back inside. He lathered up and washed his hands, feeling sad for Nina.
With that, he made his way into the house, hoping he could find Nina before the meeting began. Fraze was standing near the kitchen, and Rafe raised his eyebrows in question.
“She’s in there,” Fraze mouthed, pointing.
Rafe nodded his thanks and made his way into the kitchen, which was empty except for Nina. She leaned against the sink, staring into its depths as if looking for something she’d lost.
“Nina,” he said, touching her shoulder. “Is everything okay?”
She spun to face him. She looked for a moment as if she wanted to slap him, but then her shoulders fell and she slumped forward.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?” she said in a low voice. “You didn’t do anything.”
“I didn’t know.”
“If you had known, it wouldn’t have made any difference. Your feelings for me wouldn’t have changed.”
“I’m still sorry.”
“Apology accepted.” She didn’t look at him.
Marlana’s voice rang throughout the house. “It’s time to begin.”
All the straggling pride members, Nina and Rafe included, hurried into the great room and found places to sit or stand. Nina quickly moved to stand with Laura, Dristan, and Fraze. Rafe hovered at the back of the room, wanting to give Nina space.
Everyone looked toward Marlana, awaiting her announcement. She stood before them, pacing back and forth with a lion’s grace, her golden-brown hair bound in a low bun at the na
pe of her neck. Rafe realized, with a start, that Marlana was looking tired. The vampire problem was taking its toll on her.
“We have someone new joining our meeting tonight,” Marlana said.
Chills raced up Rafe’s back, and he looked around for the source of his alarm.
From outside on the darkened back patio, a single, pale hand came forward and rapped three times on the large sliding glass door.
Marlana opened the door and welcomed a vampire into the house.
Twenty-One
Brigitte sat on her sofa in the dark, clutching the Maglite. She felt like a coward, huddling here like this, but she’d just learned that monsters existed. Magic was possible, and monsters were out there, and she’d seen them. She didn’t remember it, but she knew without a doubt she’d been in the presence of vampires.
What about everyone else? All the Belnedge residents who didn’t know about the vampires? Someone could be taken tonight. Mr. Kanely next door. One of the teachers she worked with. A thick feeling of dread pooled in her stomach. Did they take kids? Were her students in danger?
Outside, a car motored past on her street, the headlights throwing moving squares of light across her walls until all was dark again.
She buried her face in her hands and tried to breathe deeply. Panicking wouldn’t help anyone. Already the town was staying in more; after Brigitte’s abduction, the police station had issued a statement telling everyone to avoid going out alone. Nothing had happened in days, though, and it seemed to Brigitte that the town was growing less apprehensive.
As if to prove her fear, the sound of skateboard wheels on a sidewalk reached her ears. Smooth rolling, then a quick ka-thunk. Roll, ka-thunk. Whoever it was, they weren’t going very fast.
To a vampire, the noise would probably sound like a dinner bell.
Tension laced the air around her as she stood and went to the window. The kid on the skateboard wasn’t old, maybe twelve or thirteen. She couldn’t tell if they were a girl or a boy, because they wore a hoodie. Where was their parent or guardian? Didn’t they know there were monsters around?