Chapter 4
“What do you mean you’re going to leave the country? Why? Is this because of my sister? Don’t worry about her. She’s not going to be anyone’s trouble soon enough.” Peter looked at her as she lay naked across his bed. Margie had been having an affair with him since long before her mother had refused to let her marry him. For more than ten years, as a matter of fact. “I am still trying to get information on where my mother is. But as of this morning, all my little spies have been taken out of the picture. I blame it on that bastard she hired recently.”
“Harvey?” She said it was a younger man. She couldn’t remember his name. “I was going to tell you that Harvey is harmless too. Your sister only hired him for a tax break, I think. You know you get a lot of breaks for hiring old people.”
Margie didn’t point out that he was older than Harvey. Peter was at least as old as her mom. Perhaps older, for all she knew. But they were happy together. And now that his wife was gone, hopefully dead, they could get busy in making things for them permanent. She brought up marrying him again.
“I mean, we’re sure she’s dead, right?” He said that without a body, there was no telling where the bitch was. “She never did anything anyone wanted her to do. And her mom was just a bitch to everyone. I can’t believe you married her instead of me.”
“I was going to marry you, but since your parents put a stop to it, I had to make myself respectable. Besides, marrying like I did, Rebecca couldn’t tell on me. You wouldn’t, even at the threat of death, but by me marrying her, Rebecca couldn’t testify against me in a court of law. It was that or kill her like I did her father.” It made sense, but she still didn’t have to like it. “Also, you might not have realized this, but with her out of the picture right now, I don’t have to worry so much about her and that brat. Christ, that kid could get on a man’s last nerve.”
When Peter got out of the bed, she turned her head away from his nudity. She loved the man, but his body wasn’t all that pretty anymore. She didn’t think it had been since she’d been sleeping with him. The man was old, but he was rich and all hers. Taking a peek at him, just to see if anything had changed, she waited until he got into the shower before getting up herself.
Gray hairs stuck out all over his chest like spiny needles. His hair was falling out on his head. Even his dick, as impressive as it was, didn’t stand up as well as it used to. Sometimes she’d have to fake her own pleasure so he’d get off her. He was also overweight.
“Did you want to have something to eat before you leave?” She asked him if she was leaving. “Yes. You told me you had to see to something with your sister. Don’t you remember that?”
“Yes. Her business. I have to find someone I can blackmail into getting information on her. I have to tell you, Peter, she’s getting a lot more mistrustful of late. Did I tell you I can’t even get a rise out of her when I try and piss her off?” He said she had—several times. “Well, it bears repeating. Mom too. She only stares at me like she’s looking for a place to put a knife.”
“She’s about due for another payment. That’ll come in handy.” That was another thing about Peter that had surprised her—he wasn’t rich. He had money, show money, he told her, but the real cash was in offshore accounts for their golden years. “Also, that Blake character is late. Again. I’m going to have to send someone after him.”
Pulling on her robe, she went to the bathroom when he came out. It nearly made her puke every time she had to follow him in the bathroom. His hair was in the tub and on the sink, and he never hit the toilet. Careful not to step in his pee, she turned on the water as hot as it would go so that she could at least get some of the little things he’d left behind.
She asked herself the same question she did every time she came here. Why are you still in love with him? She didn’t know anymore. In fact, Margie wasn’t even sure she liked him all that much. He was a slob, uncaring of her feelings, and usually, a great deal lately, he’d break plans with her in order to do some kind of job that needed him. Stepping into the shower after adjusting the temperature, she leaned against the stall wall and let her tears fall.
So why stay with him? The voice again. She’d thought at first it was her own thoughts intruding on her day. But it told her it wasn’t herself she was reasoning with, but someone with a great deal of power. I mean, it’s not like he even takes you out to dinner anymore. The last time you had any fun with him, including sex, was when you shot Rebecca and left her for dead.
We surely did celebrate that night. The voice asked her how long it had been before that. Plenty. Why are you bothering me again? I thought I told you to get the hell out of my head.
I thought since there is plenty of room up here, as you don’t seem to have a brain, you’d not mind so much. Have you always been a bitch, Margie? I mean, doing the exact opposite of what you were told all the time? Staying where you knew no one wanted you to be? I guess you’ve not always been a bitch. Babies aren’t, I guess. But pretty much all of your adult life. She asked her what she wanted. Oh, you don’t want to know what I want from you, Margie. I’m just here to keep you thinking about things I know you’d rather not. Such as the fact that the man you’re fucking has three other women that join him in that big bed you’ve just gotten out of. Also, I do believe there have been a couple of men in that bed. No women with them, just men. Not that it matters, I suppose, but you should know he has better staying power with them than he does with you.
Deciding to ignore the voice in favor of having a nice dinner with Peter before she left, Margie dressed in something killer. Her body certainly looked good in red, she thought as she looked in the mirror. However, the voice didn’t stop talking.
Putting on a little weight there, aren’t you? I mean, you’re supposed to have curves, but they don’t curve out in front of you. It’s supposed to be down your sides. She told the voice to shut up. I’m just saying. You’re getting very fat.
“I’m not fat.” Peter asked her who she was talking to. “No one. I’m just telling myself I’ve not put on any weight since high school.”
“Not that it matters, but you have sort of started sagging a little—a little jigglier than you were before. I guess we all do when we get older. I used to be a slim bastard. Now I’m just a bastard.” Margie stared at Peter as he slapped her on the ass. “You still have it as far as I’m concerned, however, Margie dear. Always good for a nice fuck.”
See? He thinks you’re a nice fuck, when I know for a fact he told the two men he had last night that they were fantastic fucks. The voice laughed. I’m thinking in a few more months, less perhaps, you’re going to be tossed aside, and he’ll be having someone…what did he call it? Oh, yeah. Less jiggly.
It hurt her on levels she didn’t understand that this voice was playing on her insecurities. It could have been her own thoughts, but the voice had proven her wrong on that score late last night. It had woke her from her sleep and had her in the kitchen making a bowl of cereal for herself—something she’d not had since she was a child—that she didn’t know where the stuff had come from.
Leaving the house without speaking to anyone, especially Peter, she made her way to her own home. She did hope he was sitting in his house wondering what the hell had become of her when they were supposed to be going out to dinner. The dress was off and torn to shreds even before she was all the way up the stairs to her bedroom. She would never wear it again, so shredding it the way she had made her feel a little better. Pulling out a pair of soft pants and a T-shirt, she sat down at her vanity and looked at herself in the mirror.
She and Joey were twins. Joey was twenty-three minutes older than her, but it had always been Margie that looked older. Not just the twenty-three minutes, but more like twenty-three years. Margie hadn’t aged well, she thought. Even for as young as she knew she was, she looked terrible. Old and worn out.
Supposing it had to do with the way
she lived, even trying to be good and exercise hadn’t changed her looks one bit. It had been a thought for her for some time to get some plastic surgery, a tuck or two here, and a bit of fat sucked out there. But it was much more expensive than she’d dreamed it would have been. And asking for the money to do that from Peter or her sister was just a humiliation she didn’t want to risk.
Making sure there wasn’t anyone at the offices, she called three times. Every time someone answered from the service her sister employed, she was put on hold so they could take a message. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. She just wanted to find out if she could go there and mess things up a bit.
You can’t. Just so you know. The voice again. Asking her what she was talking about, the voice told her she’d not be able to get into the building anymore. Because as of the moment they left for the day, a pack of angry wolves made their way to the property and has been keeping an eye on things for them. You’re shit out of luck in having your kind of fun, I guess. It really helped me hire them when I told them who they were guarding the place against. Not too nice to shifters, are you?
I fucking loathe them. Voice asked her how they’d hurt her. Can you imagine having sex with one of them, and they suddenly turn into this great wolf or something? I do not do doggie sex. That’s fucking insane.
That’s really too bad for you, then. I mean, I have a bear in my bed every night. Kinda fun, if in a kinky sort of way. And they certainly do have a great deal more endurance than the old paunch belly you’re fucking now. Voice laughed. I’ve decided to tell you my first name. That way, you don’t have to keep referring to me as The Voice. While that sounds all mystical and shit, I do have a real name. You can call me Meadow.
Maybe I like calling you The Voice. She told her whatever floated her turds. It’s boat, not turds, you moron. Christ, you’d think I was the only intelligent one on this earth.
Doubtful anyone would think you’re even remotely intelligent, Margie. I mean, you’ve been fucking the same man for at least the last ten years. Have you ever once had a good climax? The kind that makes your voice hurt for days after screaming it out? Or been so sore from how hard you were taken that you smile at every little twinge? You’ve been lacking. That’s all I can tell you. Lacking in getting a good fuck since you were fourteen years old. So very sad, if you ask me. She told her she’d not asked. Oh well. You’ve not had real sex until you’ve been with a man your own age who has a dick that stands up to attention when you simply enter a room.
When The Voice—she refused to call her by name—shut up for a while, Margie got her things gathered up while waiting on a pizza to be delivered for her supper. She was going to go on a diet tomorrow, she told herself. As soon as this thing with Peter and that brat was finished, she’d be eating less due to not being stressed all the time. Her dinner came about the time she was looking at the exercise equipment she’d purchased several years ago with the intention of getting in shape. Now it was mostly used as a discarded clothing rack. She would have to do something soon, she told herself, or she’d never like herself.
Margie drove over to the building her sister used and found that it looked as abandoned as it normally did. However, as soon as she got out of the car, a pack of wolves surrounded the place. She wondered if she could kill them all when the number of them doubled, their beady eyes staring at her like they knew she was going to be a tasty treat.
“Shoo. Go away.” Margie was sure they were laughing at her. “You don’t want to see me take you on, you little shits. Go away so I can go into my sister’s business.”
I’m translating for you for the pack leader. Margie asked the voice why they didn’t just talk to her directly. Because in order to do that, he’d have to have to bite you. I think any one of them wouldn’t stop at just a little nibble. Anyway, he said to tell you that if you come within fifteen feet of the building, you’ll never make it one step closer. I don’t think he likes you overly much.
Good. I don’t care for him either. I will get in. Voice told her to go for it. You just keep it up, Voice, and I’m going to hunt you down.
The laughter startled her—not only that, but it made the hair on her arms stand up. There wasn’t a bit of humor in it. Nothing but malice and contempt. Like this person knew more than she would ever know about killing people.
You have no idea what I’m capable of, Margie. The things I’ve done to people I dislike. You’re one of those people. But for now, I’m having fun with you. Jerking you around, you might call it. The woman that appeared in front of her scared Margie enough that she fell to the ground, her face a nightmarish one that made her ill. “This is a warning you can heed or not. Leave them alone. Leave the little girl alone too, or else—I’m going to show you what I’m going to do to you. Just to show that I mean business. However, you can bet I’m going to enjoy driving you over the edge.”
Margie found herself at home. She hadn’t any idea how she got there. After the woman showed her how she was going to kill her, Margie didn’t remember anything else. The playing of her death, in so many different ways, sickened her.
Sitting in the darkening room, she tried to convince herself it had been a nightmare. That she’d fallen asleep. But every time she moved on the chair she was on, with every little, tiny movement of her legs, she could feel the pain of falling to the ground when the woman had startled her. That, if nothing else, made it perfectly clear it wasn’t a dream.
Making her way to the front hall, she stood there for several seconds, just staring at the open door. Driving her over the edge. It was working, Margie thought. The sight of the wolf standing there, his fur standing up on end, had her rethinking her entire life up until now. Meadow, or whatever the fuck her name was, would do just as she said. Of that, she had no doubt.
Going back into the living room, she turned every light on in the room. The wolf, the one at the door, must have closed the door behind him as she heard it shut. When he came in, getting up on the couch across from her, Margie started laughing. It was that she thought or put a bullet in her own head. Things were getting very scary for her.
~*~
Joey was nervous. Not about having sex or making love, as he called it, but in disappointing him. Pierce had to have had sex more than she had. More than likely, all the—
“Stop thinking so hard.” She smiled at him, and he grinned back at her. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but nothing could be as bad as you’re making it out to be. Nothing in this room or any other time that we’re together will happen unless you want it to. I promise you that on the heart of my mom.”
“You’re saying that if I were to walk around this room completely naked and then tell you I didn’t want to have sex, you’d be all right with that?” He didn’t even hesitate—he told her that was right. “I haven’t any idea why, but I believe you. You’re much too nice to me.”
“I love you.” She nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. “What do you want to happen? Do you want to make love? Would you rather just sleep?”
“I want very much to make love with you. But I’m afraid of you having much more experience than me, and I’m not up to par with you.” She asked him if he understood. He told her he didn’t think that was going to be right. “You do have more experience than I do. You have to know that.”
“What I do know is that you’re about as nervous as I’ve ever seen you. It’s sort of cute if you ask me.” Pierce stood up and started to unbutton his shirt. “However, I don’t want to think of you being cute when all I can really think about is having you naked beneath me while I’m pounding you with my cock.”
“Right to the point. I like that about a man.” She unbuttoned the buttons on her blouse while he still stood a few feet from her. “I will tell you I’m very noisy when I have a climax. I think that got around—that you couldn’t just…you know, have a quicky with me in the corner. Not that I ever did that, but…well, men do talk
.”
“I wouldn’t say a word about how you come. To anyone.” He had his shirt off, and it dropped onto the floor. “I want you to make all the noise you want. The louder, the better. If we were out in the woods, my bear would roar out his own release when I come. I’m not entirely sure how that works, but then I’ve never made love to my mate before.”
“Is it different?” Pierce paused in undoing his pants and looked to be thinking about it. “Never mind. I’m assuming you’d not know that either since you’ve never had a mate before. Why is that?”
“Why is what?” She asked him. “From legends, it’s said that creatures like us, shifters, can only have a single one that they can love. They love with all they are, never leaving room for anyone else but their children to intrude in their lives. Family doesn’t count—I asked. Now, I do know that the fates, creatures we believe in, will take a person that has lost his or her mate and find them another. It’s said that a creature lucky enough to find someone to love, then a second time, is well and truly blessed by the gods that care for such matters.”
“That’s beautiful.” She pulled off her skirt and looked down at herself. “I seemed to have lost my panties someplace.”
She was standing in her bra only, one she’d created that left very little to the imagination. Joey had an entire drawer full of them. They gave her a boost of confidence more than anything she’d ever made. But the way Pierce was staring at her, his boxer briefs barely holding onto his hard cock, she found herself wanting to cover up from head to toe.
“Don’t.” She put her hands down along her sides when he told her to stop. It wasn’t the word he used that had her wet—it was the growl in his voice. The way his bear, the black fur of him, seemed to run over his skin. “You’re lovely. No, that’s not right. I don’t think a word has ever been made that would describe the beauty I’m seeing before me.”
Pierce: McCray Bruin Bear Shifter Romance Page 6
