Night Creatures: Book 2

by Ebony Brightman

  There was an email from Willa. She’d made an appointment for Nisa with her doctor and was checking to make sure the day and time worked with Nisa’s schedule. It gave Nisa pause. But in reality, she couldn’t expect Willa to completely relax her controlling ways—not in a single day. The appointment was for tomorrow. Nisa sent a quick response that she’d be there.

  After that were a few messages from pregnancy websites she’d signed up for, a confirmation of her next scheduled appointment with Dr. Ng, and a message from Shane with the subject heading “Notes.” Nisa skipped the rest of the emails and opened the one from Shane. By the smell of it, dinner was almost ready, so she hurried to see what he’d said about the draft. She could probably start the rewrite tomorrow after the amnio.

  Nisa sipped water as she scanned down the page. His feedback was extensive. She didn’t agree with all of his points, but in general his notes were good. She was the better writer, but his instincts for story were not to be ignored.

  Their script was a dramedy—a comedy of errors and coincidence but also a surprising journey of self-discovery. Nisa’s favorite scene was when the protagonist runs into his father-in-law at an out-of-the-way coffee shop with a daughter no one knew he had. A daughter that was clearly younger than the years of the father-in-law’s marriage.

  Shane was suggesting that instead of a daughter, maybe the protagonist thinks it’s a son that none of them knew about, and then discovers that the young man is actually the father-in-law’s lover. His argument was that it maintains the viewer’s sympathy for the father-in-law and solves the dilemma of the man not telling his wife what he found.

  Nisa sat back in her chair. She undid her ponytail and massaged her scalp. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. Changing the secret daughter to a secret male lover felt more powerful.

  She leaned forward again and continued to read. Then she reached the bottom and there it was: “I got a call from Wyatt Conrad. Hope you and your dog enjoyed the beach yesterday. Bitch.”

  Blake traipsed in and plopped down on the couch.

  “Dinner’s ready.” She hadn’t bothered taking her bikini off. Instead she’d put a worn gray tee over it with “Good night, John-Boy” written across the front and had pulled on a pair of hot pink shorts. Blake looked up when Nisa didn’t respond. “What’s wrong?”

  Nisa pried her eyes from the screen. “Nothing.” She stood up and rubbed her stomach. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving.”

  #

  Shane wandered into the kitchen at the same time as Nisa and Blake. He stared at Nisa with empty eyes, and she knew right then how much she hated him. It wasn’t just that she no longer loved him. She genuinely despised him. He was an albatross around her neck. And if this baby was his, he’d continue to be so for a long, long time.

  Nisa walked over to Arlo, who was at the stove. She snaked her arm around his waist and when he looked at her, she kissed him. It was time Shane learned what real love looked like. That no matter what he did or said, he wouldn’t be able to shake them. Then she looked over at Blake. “Shall we set the table?”

  Blake pulled dishes out of the cabinet, mouthing to Nisa “Four plates or five?” Nisa mouthed back “five,” then grabbed the water glasses. Shane joined in by taking out the silverware. Nisa and Arlo exchanged a glance. It looked like Shane had decided to be civil.

  Arlo piled enchiladas on a serving dish while Owen tossed a freshly chopped salad. Nisa filled a pitcher with water from the fridge, which Blake then used to fill all of the glasses.

  The food was placed on the table, and everyone took their seats. Shane sat at the head—a subtle declaration that this was still his house—and Arlo sat at the opposite end. Owen sat on the side, positioning himself directly in the middle, while Nisa and Blake sat across from him. Blake took the seat closer to Shane. Nisa sat next to Arlo.

  The table fell silent as they all dug in.

  Arlo and Owen had outdone themselves. The salad tasted fresh and bright, while the enchiladas were saucy and hot. Nisa had meant to order groceries the previous day, but things had gotten hectic and it had slipped her mind. She never would have guessed this dinner could be made from a deep dive into her cabinets and fridge.

  “Babe,” Nisa said. “These enchiladas are incredible.”

  “Yeah,” Blake agreed. “You really outdid yourself.”

  “I love the smoked paprika.”

  “Oh, who gives a fuck,” Shane blurted.

  So much for a quiet dinner.

  Arlo eyed Shane with open contempt as he quietly set his fork on his plate. Owen followed suit. But where Arlo leaned back, Owen leaned in, preparing for an altercation. Blake kept on eating, even reaching for more food.

  Arlo’s voice was baiting. “What do you want to talk about, Shane?”

  “I want to talk about you, Arlo. I want to talk about how a man who can’t keep his dick in his pants has almost stolen my wife.”

  “I haven’t almost stolen anything. Your wife is gone. She’s my wife now.”

  “That’s funny,” Shane sneered.

  “Is it?” Arlo said.

  “Since you’re already married, it’s hilarious.”

  Nisa’s stomach tried to climb out of her throat. She didn’t dare look at Arlo, afraid she might crumble. Shane had taken his shot and it had been a direct hit.

  “What’s the matter, Nees? First time hearing about your sister-wife?”

  “You really are a bag of shit,” Nisa said.

  “Who?” Shane implored. “The guy trying to save his marriage? Or the married guy you’re fucking that’s trying to destroy it?”

  Nisa hadn’t thought about marrying Arlo, only being with him forever. But knowing he was already married changed things. If he was willing to make that commitment before, then why not with her? She was working hard to get out of her marriage. Why wasn’t he working to get out of his?

  Arlo took Nisa’s hand. “When I was nineteen I got legally married. We were together for two years, then we went our separate ways. I haven’t seen her in over a decade. Legally she’s still my wife, but you are my mate. That’s more important.”

  “Benny said you’d split those hairs.”

  Owen tilted his head. “Is that how you learned about Leola? From Benny?”

  “Leola,” Shane said. “Is that her name?”

  Arlo squeezed Nisa’s hand again, trying to read her face. “I’ll find her, Nisa. I’ll make this right.”

  “Benny said you don’t know where she is. That none of you do.”

  “Benny says a lot,” Nisa bit out.

  “He does. Like how your boyfriend would fuck a hole in the wall.”

  “Bet he never tried to bang his sister-in-law, though.” Blake was sucking sauce from her fingers. “Have you Arlo?”

  A fire lit in Arlo’s eyes. “No, I haven’t.”

  “Not like you, Shane. ‘I wonder what you look like when you come,’” Blake mocked. “Who says that stuff to their wife’s little sister?”

  Owen looked from Blake to Shane to see if this was true.

  Shane had gone red. His face said he wanted to punch Blake’s lights out, and for a moment Nisa worried he just might try. “You’re a whore, Blake. Just like your whore sister.”

  Arlo shoved the table forward and knocked Shane out of his chair, then Arlo was up in a flash and rushing right for him. Nisa started to follow but Blake pulled her back. Owen jumped between them to stop Arlo’s attack.

  Shane scrambled to his feet, emboldened by Owen’s intervention. “Their whole family is trash!”

  Arlo ducked Owen’s arm, but Owen caught him around the waist. Nisa slipped from Blake’s grip and moved around the table to stand between Arlo and Shane.

  She cradled Arlo’s face with her hands. “Look at me.” She said it again louder. “Arlo, look at me.” Arlo’s eyes shifted as if coming out of an angry trance. “Hateful words are all he has left.” Arlo’s eyes flicked back to Shane, but Nisa was all over
it. “Hey, I’m right here. I don’t care about some woman from ten years ago. I care about right now. It’s just you and me.”

  “Not if that’s my baby.”

  Arlo’s jaw tightened, but he held his place as Nisa’s hands slipped to his chest.

  “Owen,” Nisa said, “would you please take care of that?”

  “Gladly.” Owen released his grip on Arlo and stepped to Shane, grabbing him by the back of the neck. He marched Shane out of the room. By the look on Shane’s face, he knew not to struggle.

  “Come on,” Nisa said gently. “Dinner is over.”

  #

  Nisa held Arlo tightly by the wrist and tugged him up the stairs. She pulled him into their bedroom and bolted the door while Arlo paced in moonlight as though locked in a cage. Three days hadn’t passed and his patience was at an end. There was no way he’d make it five more months, or however long it took Nisa to finish those scripts.

  Shane was going to keep needling him. He knew that having Owen there protected him as much as it protected Nisa and Arlo. Owen was dutiful. He clearly had a mandate to keep the peace. Which meant Shane could continue to be an ass, and Arlo would continue to be pushed to the brink.

  Arlo’s voice was husky. “Take off your dress.”

  Nisa didn’t move, waiting for him to look at her. A second ticked by, then two. Then he turned to reveal the Beast in his eyes.

  “Take it off. All of it.”

  Nisa fumbled with the clasp at her neck then pushed her dress down over her hips. Arlo watched as she unhooked her bra, hungry to lay eyes on her flesh, then he pulled off his shirt and stripped out of his jeans. His body was strong and taut. She was too fat, too hippy, her thighs were too thick . . . She bet Leola was petite and thin.

  “Look at me,” he said. “I want you to really see me.”

  Nisa snapped her eyes to his as he ceded to the change. His ears creeped to points as fur bloomed across his skin. His muscles bulged and thickened. He loomed, his shoulders rounding as his jaw stretched to a muzzle, both frightening and glorious.

  He neared her, but she slid out of reach, teasing and apprehensive. She’d stripped at his command. The rest he’d have to work for. Her pride was demanding it.

  He stalked forward again and again she backed away. Then she licked her forefinger and slipped it between her legs. Her other hand squeezed and tugged at her nipples, and she smirked as his manhood came to attention. Her movements were slow and deliberate, her finger gently rubbing her clit while the tips of her breasts formed fervid little peaks.

  The Beast was quicker this time, wrapping his claws around her biceps. His cock twinged against her belly as he pulled her in. Then he walked her backward to the corner of the room. Her feet were barely touching the floor, and she let out a puff of air as he pushed her into her reading chair.

  She squirmed to sit upright, but he dropped to his knees and quickly grabbed her calves. Then she slumped as he yanked her forward. She didn’t fight it as he parted her thighs and draped her legs over the armrests. Or when he licked his chops and huffed her scent.

  Her cunt was fully exposed now, her womanhood defenseless. There’d be no more teasing, only her submission.

  His tongue lashed out to take the first taste, then she jerked her hips as he did it again. He wanted her to watch—wanted her to see. And her body ignited as his tongue lay siege.

  She felt sinful and delicious, his tongue working her from ass to clit. She wanted to throw her head back and grind her pussy against his maw, but she didn’t want to miss this. To miss the sight of him lapping up her juices. Or the gleam of his claws parting her tender flesh.

  Sweat trickled down her neck to the valley between her breasts. “Please, baby . . . Please.” The Beast growled, not wanting to be rushed, but that growl became shockwaves against her swollen nub. Chair legs screeched as her body spasmed. Then fluid gushed and dripped to the floor.

  Nisa was shaking, her eyes still seeing stars when the Beast drove into her. She cried out to God, her hand fisting his fur. The chair creaked under their weight as the Beast rocked his hips—pulling out to the tip, then plunging back in.

  His cock was a savage instrument filling her with song. A dark, engorged quiver of the most erotic poetry. The words curled through her body and seeped through her skin. And every line, every lyric read “I am his.”

  The Beast growled away her reverie, his claws on her throat as he lifted her chin. Their eyes locked in combat. Each daring the other not to be the first to come.

  Nisa moaned and squeezed her tits—something she knew he couldn’t resist. “Can you come for me, baby? I want to feel you come.”

  But the Beast was no easy win. He grabbed her by the hair and while licking her neck, reached down between them and gave her clit a flick.

  Nisa lost by a fraction of a second.

  Her body convulsed, her orgasm the opposite of sanity as the Beast went rigid. He pushed into her cunt as far as he could go, then bathed her insides with a torrent of heat. Nisa threw her arms around his neck, drunk on the scent of their sex. And when she finally stopped thrashing, became a ruin of flesh.

  The Beast hovered, licking Nisa’s breasts as she panted from the exertion. Then she sighed and lowered her legs, her being a pool of contentment.

  “Go,” she said. “I know you need to run.”

  The Beast continued bathing her as if she hadn’t spoken. She ran her hands along his muzzle and lifted his face to hers. He licked her cheeks, then her chin and her lips.

  “Go,” she said again.

  He swayed back on his heels and pushed himself to standing. His eyes suddenly in shadow. He stepped to the window and raised the lower sash.

  He hesitated for a moment, unsure. Then he leapt from the sill and ran into the night.

  #

  Nisa woke to her nightgown being pulled over her head, then a naked, human Arlo pressing against her flesh. His skin was cool and damp, and he smelled of musk and wilderness.

  His hand splayed out over her belly as his body formed a spoon. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for trusting me.”

  Her nipples perked at his touch, and she rolled to crush her breasts against his chest. Then she kissed his lips and caressed his face.

  “That night I said I needed you? That wasn’t a lie.”

  “I know,” Nisa said, kissing his cheeks and eyelids.

  “I’ve been biding my time for the last four months. Letting Willa think I was over you. But every second you were doing my brain in. I can’t live like that again. Wondering where you are. Scheming to be with you.” His voice was starting to crack. “It’s torture.”

  Nisa kissed his chin and neck.

  “Sometimes I have to get out and run. But I’m never running from you. I need you to know that.”

  “I know you’re not.”

  He held her face then. “I ran from Leola. I was young and still working out who I was. She was older and manipulative. She found my weaknesses and used them to control me.”

  Nisa rubbed his chest. “Sounds like Shane.”

  “That’s what I thought love was. Control and manipulation. So I stuck to what I was good at. But now . . . I can’t live like that anymore. I can’t just fuck and move on. This. What we have. This is everything to me.”

  That’s what their sex had been about. A carnal declaration that the past didn’t matter—that their love was stronger than the ghosts of bygone lovers. Hearing about Leola from Shane had hurt. But it wasn’t going to break them. Not even close.

  “You’re mine, Nisa.”

  “And you are mine.”

  “No matter what?”

  “No matter what.”

  Then he slipped inside her and they made love again.

  CHAPTER Twelve

  When Nisa came downstairs, Blake and Owen were doing yoga. She and Arlo had woken up early, wanting to stop for breakfast before the amnio. So she hadn’t expected to find them both up and doing Downward Dog.

 
Blake hopped her feet forward and came to standing, while Owen stayed inverted and gave her a solemn nod.

  “Where you goin’ lookin’ all purty?”

  “Amnio.”

  “Oh.” Blake frowned. “Want me to go with?”

  “Nah. Arlo’s got it.”

  “You sure? It’ll only take me a minute to throw on some clothes.”

  “No, I’m good. It was my fault he missed the ultrasound. I want to make it up to him.”

  “Ahhh.” Blake nodded. “Gotcha.”

  Nisa smiled at Blake’s tee shirt. “Is that Yogi Bear doing Warrior II?”

  Blake held out the hem. “Cute, right?”

  “Very.” Nisa glanced at Owen, who was now doing a sun salutation. “How’s your shoulder by the way?”

  “Fine,” Blake said giving it a stretch. “You can barely tell that Owen mauled me.”

  Owen rolled his eyes as he did a forward bend.

  Arlo came down the steps. His hair still wet and pulled into a man bun.

  “Morning, Blake.”

  “Morning, Arlo.”

  Then he looked at Nisa, a sparkle in his eyes. “You ready?”

  “As ever,” Nisa said.

  Arlo took Nisa’s hand and they headed for the door. “We’ll see you guys at dinner. And Owen,” he said nodding his head toward Blake, “keep this one safe.”

  Now it was Blake’s turn to roll her eyes.

  “Blakey?” Nisa said, throwing Owen one last look. “Don’t shoot anyone.”

  #

  The rumble of Arlo’s truck had echoed off the canyon as they cut through the Hollywood Hills. Then they’d stopped at The Griddle for eggs and French toast before heading farther west on Sunset.

  The day was absolutely lovely—the sky clear and the weather in the seventies even though it was already fall. That was LA. The city had an underbelly that could be downright vicious, but it could also be beautiful and empowering for the spirit.