Michelle could see the woman’s kicking and flailing legs and from where she stood, they were the hairiest legs she’d ever seen on a female. Almost, she questioned the woman’s true gender, but the heaving breasts and rounded hips pretty much cinched the matter. She was female, all right.
Chelle decided the woman was probably a dyke. Everything about her looked mannish… except her blue-gray eyes bulging wild-eyed and desperate in her pale face. Despair and fear stared out at her as Chelle watched the swarms of workers finally force the woman into a beauty chair that came equipped with leather restraints at arms and legs.
Restraints on the chair? What the hell is that about? What kind of salon is this? Michelle started backing up, her unease growing as she noticed all the beauticians surrounding the fighting, flailing woman were shouting and singing at the top of their voices… in rhyme. One diva, flailing about with what looked like some kind of makeshift wand, stood alone, seeming to orchestrate the chaos.
About that time, the disheveled customer looked up and made eye contact with Michelle. Eyes growing bigger, she pushed her way up out of the seething crowd long enough to bellow, “Avoid this strife -- run for your life!”
At least, that’s what it sounded like. There was so much noise and confusion going on in the salon Michelle wasn’t sure of what the woman actually yelled. It didn’t matter. Not feeling inclined to hang around for clarification, she ran for her life, moving faster than she ever had before. She took to her heels and didn’t slow down until she bumped into a firm, hard chest.
She bounced off the man, chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths. “Par… don me… sorry!” Chelle gasped between grabbing blessed air. She hadn’t run that far or that fast since high school.
The man steadied her, didn’t let go until she’d regained her breath and her balance. His smile was brilliant, his teeth white and even and his ears pointed. Really pointed -- like an Elf’s. She glanced up into his eyes and received another shock. The pupils were slitted. That was more than enough. For a moment, Chelle felt her eyes rolling up in her head. When she thought about the ramifications of fainting in this Elf-snake’s arms, she regained her equilibrium quickly. With an inarticulate groan, Michelle tugged her arms out of the male’s grasp and sprinted all the way to her bungalow.
Throwing herself down on the bed, she rolled to her back and stared at the cream-colored ceiling. At least it was normal. Her heart gradually slowed and calmed, and her pulse evened out.
Safe in her bungalow, Michelle berated herself over her cowardice. The snake-man or Elf, or whatever the hell he was hadn’t accosted her. He’d been polite and helpful. So why had she been so frightened?
She didn’t know… and that bothered her more than her running into the Elf had. More than ever, she impatiently waited for her date with the Corellis. They’d promised her answers and the strange behaviors of the strange inhabitants of Chimera had given rise to many questions.
Rolling off the bed, Michelle stripped her sweaty clothes off and tossed them in the corner. The housekeeper attached to the bungalow would collect them as soon as she left. The clothes would be stacked neatly at the end of her chaise lounge by the time she returned from dinner tonight -- if, that is, she decided to return. She had a feeling the brothers would be issuing an invitation to more than dinner before the night was over. Right now, she had no idea what her answer would be.
Michelle opted for a bath instead of a shower. Shaking inside, she thoroughly and carefully cleansed every opening and orifice. Her mind shied away from looking too closely at what she did and why. Taking her time, she oiled, lathered, rinsed, lathered again and rinsed a final time. She dried, lotioned, shaved and spritzed until her skin and nails all shone silky clean and soft.
She washed her hair and blow-dried it. Using a holding gel, she set her shoulder length tresses on rods for a more lasting curl. With her hair up, she put on a lacy underwire bra and matching tap pants in cream silk and then sat to draw on sheer thigh highs. She drew on a loose robe and then went over to the closet and took out the bag holding her new outfit and shoes. With bated breath, she unwrapped her fantasy dress and shoes and laid them ready on the bed.
Michelle eyed the millinery confection, recalling the way it had floated and drifted about her at the slightest movement, on the barest whisper of air. An anticipatory smile curved her full lips. As the shop clerk had said, this dress was a lethal weapon and she couldn’t wait to see Jason and Jonathan’s reaction when she came out wearing it.
With a last longing look, she returned to the bathroom to put the finishing touches to her makeup. Chelle didn’t want anything to mar her dress. She’d put the dress on just before the guys came to collect her.
Chapter Seven
Jason stood in front of Michelle’s door, hesitant to knock, thus setting the final chain of events in motion. The moon was up, just barely, hanging on the rim of the sky in transparent glory. The rays of the sun still bathed the sky with color, brilliant and vibrant. Twilight in all her glory shone on Chimera, reluctant to give way to true night.
Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand and brought it sharply down on the solid wooden door. On the other side of the door, he heard her quick footsteps approaching.
“Just a minute, I’ll be right with you.”
Michelle opened the door and stood there, mouth falling open in surprise. “Jason!” She glanced down at her watch and then back up at him, her hands flying to her curler-covered head. “What are you doing here? Our date isn’t for another two hours.”
Jason thought he’d swallowed his tongue. By the moon, Michelle was beautiful, even with her hair twisted around those plastic contraptions. That robe did little to hide her curves and the glimpses of bare skin he’d seen had his blood pressure soaring, his mouth salivating and his cock hardening. He had to clear his throat twice before he could speak. “Good evening, Michelle. I came early so we could have time to talk…”
Jason’s words trailed off as his stunned gaze swept over her from head to toe, lingering somewhere around the middle. “Damn, you look good, woman!”
Michelle frowned. “Thank you, but couldn’t you have told me that later?”
She’s angry with me. Please, God, don’t let me mess this up. “Please, let me come in and talk to you. It’s really important.”
The look on her face went from agitated to chagrined and he realized what she must be thinking. “You can’t possibly imagine I’m here to give you the brush-off, not with this log tenting the front of my pants!”
Her gaze flashed down and then back up… and then down once more. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as if trying to stave off a laugh -- and dragged her gaze up to meet his amused look. With a sigh, she relaxed her militant stance. “Okay, come on in. I guess I can listen to you and polish my nails at the same time.”
She opened the door wide but Jason chose to brush against her as he passed, heading for the bungalow’s compact living room.
Standing in the doorway of the living room, she watched Jason get comfortable on the loveseat. “What’s so important it couldn’t wait for our date?”
Jason patted the couch. “Come sit beside me.”
With a shrug, she sat down beside him.
“Jonathan tells me you allowed him to kiss you earlier today. More truthfully, I felt him kissing you.”
She turned a guarded look on him. “Not so much allowed as didn’t protest,” she finally said, looking thoughtful. “Why?”
“I would like equal opportunity.”
“You make this sound like a competition. I wasn’t aware I was the prize. Besides, won’t he feel you kissing me?”
Jason had to smile at that. “Michelle, I’m not here behind Jonathan’s back. We don’t operate that way. It’s just… when I finish telling you the things you need to hear, you might not want to kiss either of us again and I’d hate to miss the experience. If it felt that wonderful secondhand, I can just imagine what it will feel like direct.�
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Her huge sigh drew his attention to her full breasts. “All right, Jason. Let’s do it.” She leaned over and pulled his head down. Locking her fingers in the thick curls at his nape, she pressed her mouth to his in a tentative kiss. He quickly took it up several notches to another level. Under his facile control, their tongues and lips dueled and danced, dipped and sipped, clashed together as if seeking to quench a bottomless hunger.
When at last he sat back, Jason felt powerful and masculine as he watched Michelle trying to recover from his measured assault. The wolf in him wanted to howl his victory to the sky. He’d sighted his mate and she was magnificent. “Thank you.”
She slowly shook her head. One finger crept up to touch his smiling lips. “I should be the one tendering the thanks. That was some kiss.”
Her tongue darted out to test the swollen flesh of her lower lip and Jason bit back a curse. “Oh, crap, I nipped you.” His hand cupped her jaw; forefinger brushed the red spot on her luscious mouth. “I’m sorry.”
“Jason, if you try to apologize for that kiss, I’ll brain you. You’ve done nothing for which to be sorry. I’m certainly not going to pretend I didn’t enjoy the hell out of what we just did.”
She couldn’t have hid her reaction from him, anyway. Chelle didn’t know he could smell her arousal, smell the juices soaking her panties. He stood and moved away from the loveseat, giving himself some breathing space.
“What I’m about to tell you and show you will be difficult for you to accept. Try to suspend judgment for a while and above all, just… keep cool. I don’t want you to be afraid.”
Michelle settled her back against the cushions of the couch. “I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” She lifted her gaze to his and Jason read trust and something else, something warm and heated, soft and comforting in her steady gaze.
“I’m not afraid of you, Jason.” A teasing smile widened her lips. “You make my heart stutter and my pulse race, but it isn’t with fear. My mouth is dry and my skin goose pebbled, but fear isn’t the cause of those symptoms, either. Not by a long shot.”
The tight lump of dread that had his gut tied in knots loosened at her teasing. His heart soared with hope. She just might be able to accept Jonathan and him, to love them as they had come to love her. He felt justified in demanding the chance to approach her without the trickery of enthrallment or magic. She deserved the right to make an informed, conscious decision based on the facts alone.
“There’s no other way to say this, but straight out. Michelle, I’m a Werewolf.”
Chapter Eight
Michelle sat on the edge of the couch, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Jason said nothing after he delivered that bombshell, just paced up and down the length of the room, refusing to meet her gaze. “I don’t get it.”
He turned then, hurried back toward the couch. “You don’t get what?”
“The punch line. I guess that was a joke, but I don’t get it.”
He looked grim. “I wasn’t joking. I am a Werewolf.”
Chelle smiled. “Well, that explains the freshness of the cuts of beef and veal you serve in your restaurants.”
“This is no laughing matter, Michelle. You’ve said several times that you didn’t understand why Jonathan would name his pet after his brother. He didn’t. I am the wolf you saw.”
Michelle stopped smiling. Her heart ached for the man in front of her. “Jason,” she said softly, “how can you not know how special you are? You don’t need to make up stories to impress me. Have you ever wondered how I can tell you apart from Jonathan?”
Jason shook his head. “What I don’t understand is how you could look into my eyes day after day and not see me there, in the wolf.”
“Then show me.”
“What?”
Michelle thought to show him his error by using logic. “Show me the wolf. It’s full night, now. Werewolves change when the moon comes up, right?”
Jason was shaking his head before she finished speaking. “I don’t answer to the call of the moon.”
“Does that mean you can’t change at night?”
A crease appeared between Jason’s eyebrows. “I… don’t know.”
“When’s the last time you tried?”
He looked dumbstruck. “I never have.”
“Men!” Michelle couldn’t suppress her chuckle. “Now would be a good time, don’t you think?”
Jason hesitated. “You won’t be afraid?”
“Probably, but don’t let that stop you.”
“Okay, here I go. Don’t touch me until the transformation is complete.”
Michelle raised her eyebrows in skepticism, letting her expression show him just how unlikely it was she’d be doing any touching before or after any changing took place. She held that expression until the air began to shimmer and dance around Jason, obscuring his form. Chelle blinked, squinted, trying to see past the sparkles. When the effect cleared, Jason had disappeared and in his place, solemn and stoic, sat the wolf.
Untangling his hind legs from the pile of his clothing, Jason padded over to her. His golden eyes focused on hers, a pleading look in them that no wolf ever perfected. Slowly, he butted her lax hand with his head, begging for her touch as he’d done every day since her arrival.
“Oh my God!” Chelle sank her hands in the thick fur of his ruff, heart pounding out of rhythm, pulse racing and thready. “You’re for real. You’re really the wolf, Jason.”
The wolf leaned against her knees, accepting, as it always had, her hands on his fur, behind his ears. Up the side of his head…
Whack!
Startled, the wolf lost focus and began to shift. Michelle scooted back on the couch, drawing her legs up and tucking them beneath her. Jason emerged in man form, snatching up his shirt to hold at his groin.
“What did you do that for?”
Fuming, Chelle shook her finger at him, her anger spilling over as she recalled incidents that were no longer so innocent when seen through the 20/20 vision of hindsight. “That’s for sticking your muzzle in my crotch when you knew better. It’s also for sitting in my bathroom with your tongue lolling out while I was taking a shower, you voyeur!”
Still muttering to herself, Michelle tucked her hands under her thighs and sat on them. If she didn’t, she wasn’t sure she could resist the temptation to hit him again.
Jason eyed her warily, his palm massaging his cheek. “I deserved that. Now that you’ve gotten it out of your system, are you ready to hear the rest of my news?”
“The rest, you say? This wasn’t enough?” She flung her hands out and sighed. “Go ahead, then. Tell me the rest.”
“Jonathan is a Vampire.”
Michelle covered her eyes with her hands. She couldn’t help it -- she giggled. “There’s that other shoe.”
She peeked through her fingers at Jason, who was looking at her with a worried expression on his handsome face. She didn’t blame him. She’d be worried too, if she had to watch a madwoman giggling and cackling, rocking back and forth in front of her.
“Mother night,” Jason murmured, cautiously edging closer to her, “the knowledge was too much for her. It’s driven her insane. Damn it, I should have listened when Jonathan tried to warn me…”
That snapped her out of her fit of hysteria faster than anything else could have. If there was one thing Michelle hated most, it was getting left out of the loop -- any loop. “No, you should not have listened to Jonathan. He doesn’t know everything -- especially everything about me! I’m glad you trusted in my intelligence enough to tell me the truth.”
Jason’s shoulders relaxed. Turning his back to her, he tugged on his pants, leaving them unzipped and unbuttoned. “I felt you had the right to make your own decision based on true knowledge, even if you decided against choosing to stay with us.” He eyed the armchair across the room then swung his gaze back to the empty spot on the couch. “May I sit back down or are you going to throw me out?”
Michelle rubbed t
he back of her neck. “No, Jason. I’m not going to throw you out, and yes, you can sit back down.”
“Beside you?”
That brought a grudging laugh. He sounded so much like a little boy trying to wheedle his mom out of an extra ten minutes before bedtime, yet his well-built physique screamed virile man.
“Didn’t I tell you I’m not afraid of you?” She didn’t wait for his answer, but patted the cushion. “Yeah, beside me, though it was a good thing you got that kiss before you dropped all those bombs.”
Jason sank down next to her and swiveled his torso to face her. “I didn’t expect you to be so calm about this, or to believe me without a lot more proof.”
She thought back to what she’d seen while on her shopping excursion. There’d been that man with the pointed ears and the slitted pupils, not to forget a salon full of strange looking women flitting about talking and singing at the top of their voices… in rhyme.
That last might not seem so extraordinary to most people, but Michelle helped write dialogue for video games. She knew exactly how difficult it was coming up with a rhyming conversation that actually made sense.
“I think you can blame Chimera for that.” Michelle huffed. “If I hadn’t seen a Dragon fly across the sky this afternoon, I’d more than likely be headed for the loony bin right now. ’Course, there’s hardly any better proof than watching you actually turn into a wolf before my very eyes.”
“You’ve put Chimera’s two and two together very well.” Jason looked impressed with her acumen. “In fact, you’d be surprised how few people ever realize how unique and different Chimera Island truly is.”
Chelle felt the half smile tugging on the corner of her lip. “Most people are hardwired to see only what they expect to see, Jason. In my line of work, I’m used to looking for the unusual.”
“Thank goodness for that! Now, it’s your turn. I know you have questions.” Jason got more comfortable on the couch. “Okay, I’m ready. Ask away…”
A.O.E.M.: Dinner For Three Page 6
