Suddenly, Riley goes stiff above me. I hadn’t noticed how tightly she was wound, or I might have backed off, but by the time I realize, it’s too late. Her yellow eyes glow even brighter, and she howls at the ceiling, pulling my hair and shaking to pieces on top of me. Her thighs clamp shut around my cheeks and a river of salt spills down my chin, making an absolute mess of us both.
Riley’s flavor is too tempting to resist. I graze the sides of her clit with the very tips of my fangs, drawing in a quick taste. Just a few drops and I’m blood-drunk. More, my mind screams. More, my heart pounds. I moan against Riley’s folds, struggling not to tip over the edge right along with her.
She must notice my squirming, because she slides the hand that isn’t clutching my hair backwards, slipping her fingers between my legs. It’s hard for her to find the right spots at this angle, but I don’t care. I’m so close that it doesn’t matter. I hit a quick, hard peak, screaming my muffled pleasure between her legs as I drown in her sweetness.
Riley’s hips jerk unevenly, and then she slumps over, panting as she braces herself against my headboard. Her shaggy hair is hanging around her face and her cheeks are flushed, but her sharpened teeth are bared in a beaming smile. “You look way too full of yourself,” she growls, but I can tell she isn’t really mad.
It takes me a moment to respond after she lifts off me, because even though I don’t actually need to breathe, I’m still short of air. “You…you have a phrase for this…smug as…smug as a…”
My mind is floating, and I can’t find the word.
“Puffed up as a peacock.” Riley looks puffed up as a peacock herself, still panting with exertion, grinning almost wildly. She certainly seems very proud of herself as she rolls off me and collapses onto her back, her head lolling back on one of my pillows.
I decide not to argue about which one of us is the peacock. My arms and legs are heavy and tingly with pleasure, but I can’t get comfortable while I’m still trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey. “Uh, Riley…”
Riley stops nuzzling into my shoulder as she realizes what she’s forgotten. “Oh, shucks. Sorry, sunshine.” Immediately, she’s all soft murmurs and tender caresses, untying my legs with surprisingly deft fingers and gently flipping me over so she can unfasten my cuffs as well. The steel chain clinks as she tosses it off to the side, but I don’t bother to see where it lands. I stretch my limbs and roll into her arms, sighing heavily.
“How is your language even more old-fashioned than mine?” I tease, pressing a kiss to her sweaty collarbone.
Riley’s chuckle vibrates through her chest over the frantic throb of her heartbeat. “‘Cause my mama raised me right.” I roll my eyes up toward hers, and then flick them toward the coil of rope at the foot of the bed. Riley bursts out laughing. “Okay, fine. So, she might not wanna know exactly what her kid is up to in the big city…”
“I won’t tell if you won’t.”
“That’s my girl.”
She rolls on top of me, careful not to squish me with her weight, and runs a hand down my arm, kneading the stiff muscles. “You feeling okay? Can I do anything for you? Rub your back? Get you a nice cool washcloth?” She strokes my forearms, where the plastic edges of my slap bracelets have left some imprints with the help of the cuffs. I hadn’t even remembered they were still on under there.
I sigh deeply. “That backrub sounds nice.”
“Say no more.”
Riley lifts herself up on her elbows, and I flip onto my stomach beneath her, resting my cheek against the pillow. It’s warm and comforting, and it smells just like her. Her hands are even hotter as they run along the sore muscles of my back, burning pleasantly against the stiff tissue. I’m always, always cold, and Riley’s like my own personal space heater.
She takes her time, making sure each and every kink is worked out from the nape of my neck all the way down to my tailbone. By the time Riley’s finished with me, I’ve melted into the mattress like a stick of butter left out on the table. I say so, and Riley laughs.
“Nice one, but that ain’t a real Southernism.” She’s gotten more comfortable letting her accent slip around me, I’ve noticed.
“It sounds like one though, right?”
Riley places a kiss behind my ear. “Yeah.”
In that moment, I realize I really trust her. It’s a warm, soothing feeling that just sort of washes over me, but it leaves me shaken. I don’t trust easily. I’m friendly. I like people. I believe there’s good in everyone and I make it my business to look for it as much as I can. But still, there’s this barrier. Whenever I let someone close, they usually let me down. Like Natasha. Like my parents, too, to a certain extent. Elyse is my one success story.
But I think I trust Riley, too. Despite her claims that she knows next to nothing about relationships, she’s been so good through all of this, talking it through with me at every step. When I was feeling vulnerable, she made herself vulnerable too, so I wouldn’t be so nervous. Something about her kindhearted nature just feeds the optimist in me. It’s proof that I haven’t been wrong all these years, trying to keep myself soft for the next person who came along, believing there actually would be a next person.
I think…I think Riley might be that Next Person. I think she might be the Right Person.
“Riley…”
“Hmm?” She’s moved on to rubbing my calves, which could really use the attention.
“Have you been seeing anyone else?”
Riley’s hands pause. She hesitates, and strained silence fills the air between us. “Uh…”
I blurt it out quickly, before I can lose my nerve. “Because I haven’t been. And I don’t want to. I’d be happy seeing just you.”
The quiet continues, growing so thick and unbearable that I have to look over my shoulder. This is it. I’ve screwed it up. Decades of experience still haven’t prepared me for this.
But the moment I see Riley’s big, goofy smile, all my tension melts away. “I’d be happy seeing just you, too.”
“Really?”
Riley crawls up on the bed next to me, looping an arm around my waist. “Yup. Most definitely. I’ve, uh…kinda been thinkin’ of you as my girlfriend already. Unofficially.”
My still heart practically glows. “You have?”
Riley nods sheepishly. “I didn’t wanna push…”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” I say, trying to reassure her. “This was the right time.” With a sudden surge of inspiration, I remove one of my slap bracelets, the one with smiling rainbows. I snap it around Riley’s wrist instead. “There. It’s official!”
She twists the bracelet around a little but doesn’t remove it. “Okay,” she says, leaning in and kissing my nose.
Just when she’s about to go for my lips, my phone buzzes. I roll away from her and grab it from the nightstand, squinting at the glowing screen. It’s Elyse, of course:
Did you use the stuff?
I laugh, which makes Riley quirk her brow at me curiously. When I show her the text, she raises the other one too. “So, you actually let Elyse look inside your Secret Sin Box?”
“‘Let’ isn’t the word I’d use. It wasn’t by choice.” I grab Riley’s hand, the one with the bracelet, and link mine with it over my stomach. I snap a quick picture, making extra sure there’s no embarrassing naked bits in the frame. Elyse has already seen more than enough (and phone cameras these days can actually capture my image, unlike most mirrors).
I send the picture of our slap bracelets, along with the caption: we’re girlfriends now.
Elyse immediately texts back: Is your first date going to be at the Roller Rink? Will you wear leg warmers?? Is she taking you to a Duran concert?
Shut up. ??
I’m just asking the important questions.
“Are y’all always like this?” Riley asks, shaking her head at me in bemusement.
I sigh deeply. “I’m afraid so.”
Riley chuckles. “I’m kinda relieved. Colin’s a handful, so a
t least we’re on the same page.”
“We should probably have them meet one of these days, since we’re…girlfriends?”
“Girlfriends,” Riley repeats, testing the word out. Her grin spreads wider. “So, girlfriend, how do you feel about a long, hot bath?”
“You just want to use one of my bath bombs.”
“Guilty. But do you wanna?”
“In a minute.” I snuggle up against her side, kissing the side of her neck. “I just want to hold you for a few more seconds.”
Riley slides her arm over my shoulder, so I can cuddle closer. “Sounds perfect.”
Chapter Five - Riley
THERE’S NOTHING LIKE THE first full moon of winter. Central Park glitters silvery-white as I sprint across the grass. Frost crunches beneath my paws, and the air smells like crisp, clean snow. Its chilly bite makes my chest tingle. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but it’s coming soon. There’s a pale white strip on the horizon beyond the trees.
I feel like I could run forever. The morning’s cold, but my legs are warm. I hear howls nearby, other wolves singing before sunrise. I’m a lone wolf, but the local packs don’t bother me none. I’ve gotten used to them by now.
My nose stops me beneath a black cherry tree. I trot around its trunk, sniffing. Someone’s been here. Another loner? No. This wolf smells like pack, but they’re running alone. The fur on my spine prickles. Eyes are watching me from somewhere nearby.
Brittle grass crackles behind me. My ears perk up. The stranger? Yes. A black wolf. Wiry hair. Dash of purple on their forehead. Their body’s long and lean, with some muscle packed on too. Their tail is level, waving side to side.
I sniff again. Their scent’s different. I can’t tell their gender, but this wolf looks sociable. I give a soft whuff.
The stranger barks. They lower their chest to the ground, haunches wiggling in the air. Play?
Don’t see a reason to say no. Only half an hour left before sunrise. I crouch low to the ground, then spring. They leap away. I chase, following their shadow through the naked trees. New Friend is fast. Takes me a while to catch them, but I head them off near one of the jogging paths.
We tumble, mouthing each other without teeth. New Friend and I tussle for a bit, breaking away to run in circles before we go in again. Have to admit, it’s nice. I haven’t played with another wolf since my brothers back home. New York can be lonely.
At last, the sun shows its face. It warms up my fur and adds a little color to the pale grey tree trunks. New Friend rolls off me and trots a few paces away, hunching over and letting out a low groan.
My own shift doesn’t take long. It leaves my muscles sore and a little numb, like I’ve done too many lifts. I roll my neck and shoulders, wincing at the cracks. Going from four legs to two can really put your joints out of alignment.
“Hey.”
I turn to see the stranger smiling at me. Their human form surprises me, although maybe it shouldn’t. Like the black wolf, they’re thin but muscular, with short, spiky black hair dyed purple at the tips. They’ve got pale skin and tattoos on their forearms. They’re not my type, although I note wryly that Izzy might enjoy the view.
It’s a little rude, but my eyes flick down. Well, that answers that question—no traditionally male parts. But the voice is a little lower than I’d expect a woman’s to be, and the smell…well, I don’t know what to make of the smell. Maybe they’re trans but haven’t gone to get a potion from a friendly neighborhood witch like Colin did for his transition.
The wolf grins. “Confused?”
My face heats up in embarrassment. “Uh…”
“Don’t worry about it. I get that a lot. Name’s Li Min. They/them pronouns.”
That puts a few more pieces into place. I’ve spent my share of time on the internet, trying to figure out what’s up with me and why I feel the way I do, but I’ve never met someone in real life who uses different pronouns. My stomach tickles a little. I feel nervous for reasons I can’t put into words.
Li Min sticks out their hand, and I shake.
“Riley.” I hesitate. “Uh, ‘she’ I guess?”
Li Min’s got a firm handshake. “Nice ta meetcha, Riley.” Their voice might be a little low, but it’s also fast and excited. They’re definitely a talker, no doubt about it. “You live here, or just visiting? Cute accent, by the way.”
I cough. “I have a girlfriend.”
Li Min snickers. “I’ll bet you do. Relax, I said your accent was cute, not that I wanted to go out with you.”
I’m kind of relieved. Looks like they’re only trying to be friendly. Being out of practice with the whole pack thing has probably made my social skills a bit rusty. “I live here now. Moved from Georgia ‘bout half a year back.”
“Like it?”
The two of us head toward the edge of the park, where most of the wolves keep their clothes during full moon runs.
“Here, or in Georgia?”
“Either one.”
“I like New York fine. Georgia, not so much anymore.”
Li Min gives me a knowing look. “Too many humans?”
“Well…”
“Don’t get me wrong, they’re not all bad. My mom’s a werewolf, but my dad’s a human who moved here from Korea. But you can only put up with so many weird looks in one day.”
I can tell they’re speaking from experience, one I’m familiar with. Back home, aside from the local pack, which was mostly extended family, I hadn’t fit in well. That’s what happens when you put a handful of werewolves in a high school full of humans.
“You grew up outside the city, then?”
“Yeah,” Li Min says. “Bumfuck, New York in the middle of the Catskills. Mom’s pack was there, so…” They shrug. “Didn’t totally suck, but it wasn’t great. Most of them weren’t sure what to do with a mutt who wasn’t a girl or a boy. So, I got the hell out of there and visit for Christmas.”
I squirm a little. I’m not used to hearing that word—mutt—said so casually, without any venom in it. Had it slung my way a few times, from pickup trucks with crushed beer cans flying out the window, but I imagine Li Min’s heard it more. Guess they’re the type who got fed up with hearing other people use it like a weapon and decided to use it for themself first. A sort of ‘fuck you’ to the whole thing. I don’t know whether I’d feel comfortable doing the same in their position, reclaiming a slur like that. But it’s kind of impressive. Brave, even.
“Don’t blame ya,” I say to them.
It’s almost eerie. Hearing it all, Li Min’s story seems pretty damn similar to mine. I probably had it a bit easier, being white, but the sense of not belonging is all too familiar. Only we aren’t quite the same. Li Min holds themself like they know who they are. They’re comfortable in their body, like most other wolves I’ve met. Not like me. Nakedness isn’t embarrassing for me, exactly, but I know I don’t feel the same way about it as most werewolves, or even most humans. Sometimes I feel like my breasts shouldn’t be there and I wish my hips were thinner… among other longings that come and go. I never know quite how I’ll feel when I look in a mirror.
If some of the same stuff bothers Li Min, they don’t show it. They seem happy when we reach the tables where our clothes are, but that’s because it’s nippy without a coat of fur for protection. “Fuck, it’s cold,” they grumble as they shove their legs into a pair of khakis and yank a sweater over their head. Their hair pops out even messier than before.
“I like it,” I say as I zip up my jeans. “Georgia summers are hotter than Hades. Gets tiring, living right in the Devil’s buttcrack.”
Li Min chokes on a laugh. “Seriously?”
“You’re a New Yorker. Shouldn’t you be used to a bit of snow?”
“Just ‘cuz I’m used to it doesn’t mean I like it.”
Li Min ties a dark green smock around their waist, one with a nametag and a pin clipped on. The pin is a little purple button that says ‘They/Them’, presumably for customers.
“Headed in for a shift? Sorry ‘bout it.”
“Yeah. Being a barista is fun, for like the first two weeks. Then the crazy schedule messes up your sleep, and you realize you don’t get health insurance or days off during the full moon unless you’re full-time. ‘Oh, you work thirty-six hours instead of forty? Suck my dick, you can’t take off.’”
I make a face. My job ain’t anything to brag about—it’s boring and the pay’s kind of crap—but I’m guaranteed 40 hours a week, and I do get the odd day of paid leave for full moons. “You at least get free coffee, right?”
“Only perk of the job. That, and all the weirdos who come in. I get a lot of good material.”
“Material?”
“Writer,” Li Min says. “Poetry and the odd short story. My goal for this year is to get something published.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Li Min grabs their bag and slings it over their shoulder. After digging around in it for a second, they pull out their phone. “So, trade numbers? Nothing sketchy. Bring your girlfriend by the Scream Bean and I’ll sneak her a free cup of coffee.”
I pull out my phone too. “Sure. Don’t you start flirting with my girl, though. It’s a miracle she’s into me at all, and I don’t need her reconsiderin’.” My girl. It still feels damn good to say that. Izzy and I have only been exclusive for all of two weeks, but the buzz hasn’t worn off.
Li Min’s eyebrows arch. “Picture?”
I pull one up. It’s Izzy, trying to decide on an outfit. She’s got on a flowy purple top and bright yellow leggings that would look strange on most folks but are just too cute on her. Her thick curly hair is pulled back under a scarf, and she’s gone heavy on the lip liner. I took the picture, though, because the shirt’s low cut. I try not to be a hound about it, but I can get lost in her cleavage if I’m not careful.
Fur and Fangs Box Set Page 12