Panties, Calamities and Hungry Creatures (Grimstone Island)

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Panties, Calamities and Hungry Creatures (Grimstone Island) Page 7

by Rochelle Pearson


  Adrian hadn’t moved an inch. Only his gaze did, watching me achieve the perfect model hair toss. That sizzling, laser beam gaze caught my strut towards the restroom hallway near the front of the restaurant.

  It was when I near, I felt his yummy charring s’mores magic grow just steps behind. I’d wanted him, wanted him as I did in the car. I thought that was enough.

  Clearly not.

  My heart pounded furiously. Hours on end before the night had arrived, I had envisioned falling into a bucket of horniness and ultimately giving in. It was enviable. I don’t need a witch’s crystal ball to show me how many ways I would spread my legs.

  Okay, that sounded a bit much, but the attraction I had for Adrian was on a nuclear level. It couldn’t be ignored. Even though, I mentioned, I was going to stay away from his dick, everyone on the planet can safely say Kokoa Tammy Lovell is a weak motherfucker.

  A growl sounded at the nape of my neck. Already, the gap between us was gone. My brain screamed excitedly. All systems inside me were bursting like pipes full of steam. However, on the outside my steps were confident, I calmly smiled to a passing waitress as I, a wolf, not a sheep this time, led a dragon into a dark hallway.

  The night certainly was not over.

  Chapter Nine

  The floor was carpeted in the short path, silencing any footsteps—my heels and his loafers. By the grace of the Convenient God, no one was around. Our forms were muted to smudged shadows, the results of low lighted lanterns on the wood panel walls. However, there wasn’t a mask for the heavy presence that loomed at my back.

  Wordlessly, I reached behind and curled my fingers around his.

  “Kokoa.” He sounded almost in pain.

  I smirked. Then stopped short. The hallway on either side contained men’s and women’s restroom doors, but didn’t keep going. Beyond was a dead end.

  For the love of... jeez, I had been really counting on there to be a broom closet. I don’t know, a cubby hole? A secret hole in the wall? I shall not be discouraged, damn it!

  Adrian’s palm slid up my spine, up more and over across my collarbone to my breast. Lips glided along heated flesh, the slope of my neck. I shuddered. He’s not discouraged either.

  “You do this to me.” Half a step and his front pressed against my backside. Quite obviously, there was something else making acquaintance with my rear. The completely unstable counterpart, Tasmanian Kokoa, was about to lose it. She was about to risk getting caught by tossing the clutch aside, and make shit go down right there, right then, when just then—the semi-rational side of me happened a glance at the woman’s door.

  Surely...

  Hmm. I faced the door of possibilities.

  Nah, we can’t.

  How practical.

  Resume this later if you don’t want to go in.

  “Darling?”

  Aw, but I’m a pathetic cup of pudding every time he calls me that.

  Screw it.

  “We’re going in, pal.” I yanked him through the swinging door.

  “Kokoa, wait—”

  I busted in, entering the clean, lavender-scented bathroom on a cloud of renewed cockiness and courage—I honestly can’t say where it came from.

  Adrian frantically looked around, blinking rapidly as if he were imagining where he was at, before swinging his baffled face to mine, then sagging in relief by the sink. I’d nearly given him a heart attack.

  The bathroom was empty.

  The Horny Goddess was on my side.

  “Yay, us.” I shrugged. His expression darkened, and wisps of smoke swirled around his body. I let him stalk me into the family stall on the far end of the room. The dominating role then flipped. My clutch hit the floor and his backside hit the tile wall. My hands splayed across his chest. It rumbled as he growled. Shirt lapels wrinkled under my grip. We angled and plunged deep into each other’s mouths. Bites were harsher. Moans were breathy and louder in the small area.

  “Mmm.” He grunted, then cupped my ass so it plastered against his body, grinding in a much better way than in the rolls royce.

  I wasn’t a selfish person. Any disagreements can be discussed later. At the moment, I wanted to prove otherwise—both to non-believers and Adrian. Delicious deeds could be exchanged both ways.

  He looked confused for a brief second after I wrenched away from him. His expression cleared once I went to my knees. “Gods, Kokoa, you don’t have—”

  “Shh, rocking your world again.” I had his shirt untucked and belt unbuckled in a heartbeat. “Or rocking your universe?” I rambled on. “Hell, either way, the rocking-ness is happening across the galaxy.”

  “I don’t fully understand what you’re saying.” He smiled crookedly above me.

  “Me neither. Just understand this.” I unzipped his fly—and gasped because turns out he’s a briefs dude—then took out his penis and put it in my mouth. Wham, bam, boom. Nothing much more to say. Your girl is all action. Less talk. Like that was even possible, currently.

  “Fuck!” He slammed a fist in the wall, splintering the plaster. His exhale was an explosion. “I definitely understand now. Shit, Kokoa.”

  I closed my eyes to the view of a writhing Adrian and focused on his warm, throbbing length. The underside slid along my tongue. Shower fresh, and hints of musk danced through my nasal canals, the intoxicating aroma traveling inside my skull till I wanted to roll my eyes back.

  He tried to move, but I held firm to his thigh with my left hand and began working his shaft with my right. I felt him grow bigger. I took him inside me from shaft to tip. Salty cum beads touched my taste buds, causing the she-wolf to flip her shit.

  A dragon was about to rocket to the moon, folks.

  I peered up. His face was contorted in blissful ecstasy. Eyes closed. Brows tilted. Mouth agape. Visual fuel for me to keep going. To keep pushing him to the brink he craved.

  He met my gaze. Intensity crackled, fiercer than lightning, in the air between. I pumped him harder and faster. Though my head bobbed, our optical connection didn’t break. I watched the neon orange corona of his eyes beam and expand, engulfing his normal copper. Blazing fireballs looked down at me. “Kokoa.” His voice sounded too gruff, almost unrecognizable.

  The fireballs combusted to pure white, simultaneously meeting his release, which I swallowed.

  He pulled out and we smiled drunkenly, but our after-party of hurrays-we-can’t-keep-our-tongues-to-ourselves was abruptly cancelled. The she-wolf’s ears perked when voices became closer to the outer bathroom door.

  “Mommy! Mommy! Can we go in the big potty square?”

  “We sure can, honey.”

  If only our faces had been on videotape. You’d have seen jaws drop. Fear struck. We both mouthed Fuck. Adrian quickly stuffed himself back into his trousers. We went for his zipper and belt at the same time, only to mess each other up.

  “I got it, I got it,” he whispered.

  “Right, sorry.” What the fuck were we gonna do?

  A hand slapped on the door. Shit, shit, shit.

  “Amy, no! Closed means there’s somebody in there. Come away.”

  I turned in time to see a pair of little pink shoes and then, to my horror, a face can’t downward in the space below the stall door. Baby blue eyes bulged out of their sockets at the sight of me kneeling on the floor, then past, without a doubt toward Adrian’s manly shoes and legs.

  Then nosey Amy screamed her freakin’ head off. “MOMMMMMMMY! THERE’S A BOY IN THERE!”

  Instantly I was up, purse gripped, and Adrian, too. I barreled us out of there. Haul ass, haul ass, haul ass. Amy was still screaming and running in circles, saying boys had cooties and were forbidden here. Her mom, sharing the same horrified expression as I, screeched and sputtered.

  “Nothing to see here!” I yelled, zooming by. Adrian uttered apologies in between unbelievable laughter.

  Another moment in my merry, freaky land of fuckery. That’s all.

  We crossed the bathroom threshold without fu
rther encounters. At the end of the hallway leading back into the restaurant, we stopped to compose ourselves, playing a nonchalant part that didn’t include me giving a blowjob and getting busted.

  “Darling.” Adrian, controlled as ever—though his satisfied grin will tell ya different, offered his arm.

  “Briefs Dude.” I wrapped close to him and made way for our booth. The dinner portion of the night finally ready to commence.

  Good timing too. My stomach was growling louder than Adrian.

  * * *

  “Hello. Good evening.” A female waiter, bird-shifter, popped up right when sat. Her hands neatly clasped, her smile large on a face that contained miniscule features. Her orange hair was in a neat bun and red-feathered wings folded down her back.

  “My name is...” she frowned, then smiled brightly. “Angelica! I’ll be your server for tonight.”

  “We already have a server.” Adrian regarded her with a steely look.

  Angelica glanced away, then back at him, her smile nervous. “Right. Uh... your server... has been tasked with something else. I will be taking over.” She rocked on her heels, entirely too hyper as her coworkers strode in calm around the restaurant.

  “Okay...” I made eye contact with Adrian, who shrugged. Since we were through with the dip, I gave the woman my entree, the salmon dish with marsh grass rice. Adrian ordered the same and another bottle of Nefarious. He smirked at my guilt-ridden face. I get parched, fast.

  “Coming right up!” Angelica piled the empty dishes and bottle on top of the menus in perfect skill. Despite her overly chipper, jittery demeanor, she was excellent at handling many things, a skill I’d nailed while working at the Grill. She zipped off.

  In passing, a host sat a couple dressed to the nines at a table in the middle of the floor, a couple feet away. Well, dressed straight out of The Great Gatsby.

  As soon as they were seated, they lifted their menus up, concealing their faces at the same time, as if rehearsed. At least I could gawk at their attire without being caught. The woman, in a champagne-hued gown, wore layers of long pearl necklaces. Her shoulders were concealed by a white fur wrap, and a feather stuck up behind the menu, attached to a matching sequin headband I had noticed when she sat. The man was dressed in a suit jacket, striped red and white, with khaki pants. A cream fedora also peeked above the menu.

  I caught Adrian’s curious eyes on them. He broke away to focus on me. “Darling...”

  Oh, that smile. I melted.

  “Remember at Chambers, you told me about yourself and your worries over Carver’s visit during your birthday? That, of course, before you passed out on my—”

  “You’re never gonna let that go, huh?” I sighed, but smiled.

  “Not in the near future, no. I’ve been meaning to ask, how did that go with your great-grandfather?”

  Adrian’s new topic prompted a shot of excitement—brownie points added for his interest—and I launched into the night that changed my life. The night when an inherited magic from the first Lovell wolf, Kolonda, passed to me, an invisibility ability. It was the explanation for having been born with white fur and a pink nose and pink paw pads, differentiating me from all my other kin. Adrian beamed as I explained how Carver, who had since left to Gods know where, helped unlock my secret. Thus providing bragging rights over my brothers’ heads for all eternity.

  “You’re a special wolf.” He kissed my knuckles.

  “Cool, huh?” I had gotten to the part when my invisible wolf looked into Tormenta River—a magic river that’s only revealed to Hallow Six members, Carver and Adrian’s Draco among them—when I felt a tickling sensation hit the side of my face.

  Nothing painful, just that weird, pestering feeling that someone is watching you.

  I swiveled to the Gatsby couple just in time to see their pair of surprised faces quickly hide behind their menus. Adrian did a double take, catching it too. I would have said their actions were odd, but I didn’t sense anything off. Or threatening. My inner wolf wasn’t even hackled. It’s like I’ve been close to the couple before... Hmm.

  The next question tumbled off my tongue. “What do you do for your father?”

  “Liaison, mostly. Anything he may ask, as well. I won’t bore you with the details.”

  “I probably wouldn’t understand, anyway. Official business, yada yada?” I forgot the Nefarious was empty when I grabbed for it. Where was the new waitress?

  “Precisely.” Adrian pursed his mouth, nodding. “How’s the barbecue business?”

  “Smokin’.” I snorted, unladylike. “Come by one night,” The Grill is fairly popular. We’re just a bunch of wolves howling orders and charring meat.

  Adrian rubbed his jaw, interested. “Wanting another date already?”

  “Puh-lease, like you’d consider getting barbecue sauce under your nails while listening to my Uncle Liam play the banjo an actual date.” I make a show of gesturing around us—a blatant contrast.

  Adrian wasn’t perturbed. “If you’re there, I’m game.”

  There went the butterflies, hopped on speed, flying in my gut again.

  “Here we are!” Angelica, eerie smile plastered in place, sped over and sat dishes on the table, as well as the Pinot Nefarious. Her arm was close as she reached across to deposit the bottle and I caught her magic scent of eucalyptus. It was sharp and pungent and reminded me of my friend, Piper’s, scent. Usually fairies and elves will take on the smell of a specifi plant, something pertaining to nature. Yet, Angelica was a bird shifter. She must be a hybrid.

  “What exactly are you?” I asked bluntly. Adrian’s eyes widened but he didn’t comment. I sent him a look that read Don’t stop me from making this any more uncomfortable.

  Angelica faltered, then recovered with great effort, deepening the strange feeling she was giving off. “I am... what I obviously am.” Her laugh rang false, and with sudden force she spread her wings—completely knocking an unsuspecting man in the face.

  “OW! MY EYE!” he screamed. Everyone in the restaurant jumped at his wails and swiveled to see what the commotion was. Covering his left eye and glaring at Angelica with the right, the man, a half goat creature—satyr—pointed at her, stiff-armed.

  “Be gone, you uncivil servant!”

  “Excuse me?” She rolled her neck in attitude.

  “You heard what I said. Be gone or I’ll sue!” The man, judging by what of his face was not concealed by his hand, was young—close to my age, I presumed, with brown hair slicked back and styled, wearing a pinstripe suit. A short, red-faced demon with three spiky horns, wearing his own formal garb, introduced himself as the manager. Angelica instantly dashed away.

  Shit, where’s the popcorn? I can’t believe this is happening right at our table. Adrian topped our glasses, and I rubbed my foot up his calf in thanks, earning a wink.

  “Is there anything we can do for you, sir?” the manager asked, clearly fearful of a possible issue.

  “No, I’ll be all right.” The injured satyr smoothed his jacket. “I would just like to visit my acquaintances in peace now.” He pointed directly at—

  Me and Adrian.

  Huh?

  Chapter Ten

  The demon in charge nodded like a bobblehead and scurried in the opposite direction. The atmosphere turned normal again, as folks returned to their friends and food, occasionally casting leftover wary glances.

  Hello, my name is Kokoa, and I am no stranger to your odd looks.

  Adrian growled low as Mr. Unknown Eye Screamer boldly shoved himself into my side of the booth. He took up most of the space, and I was nearly plastered to the wall. Obviously, he wasn’t the dragon’s buddy.

  He sure as hell wasn’t mine.

  “With that over, I must know where you got your suit from? It’s snazzy like mine,” Mr. Unknown asked Adrian and—seriously, what the fuck?—he snitched a fork and began eating my salmon.

  Code Black! Code Black! There was no time for being shocked or jaws being dropped—I refuse to le
t anybody take my food. I snatched the fork away and he had the audacity to look taken aback by my doing so. Was he for real? Adrian wasn’t too happy either, and he leaned across the table, wisps of smoke streaming out of his flared nostrils.

  Uh-oh. The booth corner didn’t stand a chance if Adrian shifted into a twenty-foot dragon.

  “Who. Are. You?” he asked, in a deep, scary voice.

  The satyr was hardly fazed, offering a smile. It was nice, I must say, though a bit crazed on a semi-elongated face. If you ignored the oversized nose, I would easily have compared his features and, eerily similar voice to—

  “Bottomsworth.” The man inclined his head and grabbed a bread roll.

  “Quit eating our food!” I gripped the bread, but he yanked, too. The son of a bitch wouldn’t let go. He grumbled, refusing to release, and we were caught in a tug of war until the poor roll ripped in half. Bottomsworth, if that was really his name, turned smug and shoved the stolen portion in his mouth.

  “Choke,” I whispered.

  “That’s rude,” he said. I huffed, sharing a bewildered glance with Adrian, who had removed his jacket and pushed up his sleeves—ready to rumble.

  “I’m rude?” My voice took on a higher octave. “I’m not the creep with a stupid name who just inserted himself in another person’s booth and is now eating their food.”

  “My name isn’t stupid!” he barked at me. Again, he captured restaurant-goers’ attention with his loud outburst. Great.

  “Yes, yes it is! What the hell kind of name is that anyways?” I shouted back, not caring anymore about the growing audience. “You should’ve been called Assworth. Because you’re an asshole, if you didn’t catch on to that!”

  “It’s Swedish, and I did!”

  Angelica rushed over, gaze narrowed on the intruder. “Excuse me, sir. If you’ll follow me, I’ll escort you to your own table.” Gods bless that girl’s soul. It would not have been pretty if a dragon and a wolf double team tackled the delusional goat.

 

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