by Mina Carter
“Uh huh.” Katie agreed, but didn’t seem to mean it. Whatever. The woman never understood Honey’s love of all things prickly. Katie had often told her that even if she was a hedgehog, she didn’t think she was all that. She was small…and prickly…
“Anyway. A date. Tonight. With a doctor. What do I wear?” A sharp nip to her cleavage drew a squeak from her, and she tapped the top of the hedgehog’s head. “Bad Normy.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Little Norman is a bit, uh, nippy. Anyway, back to clothing.” Honey nibbled her lower lip, cradled the phone between her shoulder and side of her head, and stroked Norman with her free hand. He growled at first and then the little hedgehog seemed to purr and burrow further into her grungy t-shirt. Good thing she hadn’t gotten dressed yet.
She really needed to work on his aggression issues, though.
“Your red dress.”
“The red dress. The one I decided I’d never wear out of the house?”
Katie sighed. “This is Operation: Snag the Doctor. We’re pulling out the big guns, so put on the damned dress and get ready already.” Katie slammed the phone down, and Honey dropped the handset from her shoulder and nearly dropped Norman in the process of picking it up again. “Sorry Normy-poo,” she cooed, and he growled. Persnickety little thing.
Carrying Norman, she padded back into the bedroom, sat the hedgie in the middle of the bed, and pulled her closet open. Inside, all the way in the back, still nestled in its plastic protective covering, hung the red dress. The one that hugged all of her curves. The one that was cut low in the front and back. The one that Katie called the “fuck me” dress. It was a gorgeous red chiffon number that barely covered…anything. And Katie wanted Honey to wear it out on a first date?
She nibbled her lower lip, pulled the dress out of the closet and held it up to her body, staring at the picture she made in the mirror. “What do you think, Norman?”
Norman growled. She was right. Persnickety.
Looking this way and that, she made a decision. Blake wasn’t her type of man, not with his bad boy, love ’em and leave ’em ways. She’d dress her best for the good doctor and see where the night—where her life—went.
A knock sounded at her front door and she gasped, dropping the dress to the ground. She was not dressed and not even remotely ready, and now he was here. Well, not here, but— Damn it!
Her hair was plopped on top of her head in a ponytail, and she was wearing nothing but a ratty, almost see-through t-shirt and an old pair of ass hugging super short shorts. Eep!
Figuring he’d see the worst of her at some point or another, she scooped Norman into her arms and dashed for the front door. The least she could do was invite him in while he waited for her to get ready.
She opened the door and Caleb, Dr. Pearson, stood there with a bouquet of flowers and a smile on his face that quickly turned into a chuckle. “I’m either early, or you’re really late. Or you’re starting a new fashion trend.”
“I’m so sorry. I was getting ready and…” She shrugged, chuckling and he joined in. “Would you mind holding Norman while I get ready?”
“Not at all.”
“You’re a prince.” She smiled and hurried back to the bedroom, anxious to dress to impress.
*
Blake lifted his hedgehog-y head and looked the good doctor in the eye. Hedgehogs, as a rule, didn’t smile a lot. It wasn’t an expression their faces were built for. Blake managed it, putting as much malevolent glee into his beady little eyes as he could.
“Hey there buddy, you recovered from earlier?” Caleb asked, handling Blake’s porcine form with the ease of long practice. “Heard you gave Steve a bit of a run for his money there. Don’t blame you. I wouldn’t want a thermometer stuck up my ass either.”
You’ll get my boot up your ass if you aren’t lucky, Blake thought as Caleb headed over to the sofa. The human plonked himself down and settled Blake on his lap. Quickly the shifted-were moved up onto the doctor’s stomach. No way he wanted to be anywhere near the guy’s cock, not even through a couple of layers of fabric. Or a lead screen for that matter.
“Funny little thing aren’t ya? Oh… Damn thing, I gotta change that ring tone,” he muttered as a shrill, tinny song filled the room.
Yeah man, have some class for Christ’s sake. That tune is so last week. Blake’s thoughts were waspish as he made himself comfortable. With his claws. Around and around in a tight little circle. Caleb winced a little as he flipped his phone open and answered it.
“Hey… Oh hey man, how’s it hanging?”
Blake glanced down. To the left, small package. I can’t believe Honey’s dating you.
“Yeah, yeah. Got a date tonight… Yeah, sweet little thing.” Caleb dropped his voice and flicked a glance at the door, probably to make sure Honey was still safely out of the room. “Tits out to here. Little on the curvy side so she’ll be desperate for a bit of cock. I’m definitely seeing some action tonight.”
Blake’s lip curled up. A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat. This guy was not getting Honey into bed. Not in any way shape or form. But, weighing a pound soaking wet, Blake was faced with a dilemma. To do anything, like bust this guys’ face up, he had to change and reveal his true nature. Which was so not on the agenda.
“Hey, hey little guy, calm it down. Man on the phone here.” Caleb shot him a look and carried on his conversation. Blake racked his brains for a solution. Perhaps… A grin spread over his snout. Yeah, sometimes it wasn’t about the muscles. It was about bladder control!
Doing another circle Blake turned to face Caleb, yipped once, then lifted his leg in his best “dog pissing on a lamp-post” impression and urinated all over Caleb’s stomach.
Ha!
*
A shrill scream had Honey halting in mid-zip as she got ready for her date. Fastening the dress completely, she dashed for the living room. She flung herself around the corner just in time to watch as Caleb threw Norman, her poor tiny hedgehog, across the room, the small body thumping against the far wall before sliding down and crumpling to the carpet in a heap of quills and flesh.
Honey stared at Caleb, disgust and shock coursing through her veins. Without a backward glance, she ran for Norman, scooping his tiny body into her hands, touching and stroking him, looking for signs of life. He stirred, his miniature black eyes blinking open and staring at her with a mixture of pain and happiness deep within their gaze.
“Oh! Norman, you’re okay.” She hugged him to her shoulder, glad the hedgie was a resilient animal. When she brought him down and cuddled him to her chest, she swore she saw his minuscule tongue sticking out, but shook off the idea.
Honey whirled around, glaring at Caleb. “How could you?” she hissed.
“How could I? How could I?” Caleb scoffed. “The little ball of spines pissed on my shirt, and then proceeded to shred the fuck out of my fingers!” He held up his hands, digits covered in blood and flayed flesh.
She gasped and stared at the peacefully resting hedgie in her arms, surprised that her sweet little Normy-poo could have perpetrated such an act. “You had to have prov—”
“Your hedgehog is feral and deserves to be put down.”
Norman growled in response and she snuggled him closer, feeling exactly the same way. “Right. I think this calls an end to any ‘date’ that might have happened. I can’t believe…” Tears stung her eyes, and she turned her back to Caleb. She took a few steps forward and flicked open the latch on the hedgie cage. The girls came to the opened gate immediately, as if sensing what had happened could have hurt their new man. Norman seemed to perk up a little, beady black eyes blinking slowly at her, a small smile on his little lips. She leaned down and nuzzled his tiny nose and kissed him on the forehead.
“Don’t get near him! He’s feral, I tell you! Feral!” Caleb became hysterical, bloody hands waving and flinging the deep red liquid around her living room.
She moved into the kitchen and grabbed a cle
an towel, tossing it to him as she approached. “Look. You’ve got two seconds to get out of here. Two. I don’t know what kind of man, vet, you are, but you don’t just throw animals around. And you sure as hell don’t throw my hedgies around.” Honey stomped to the door and yanked it open. “One-one thousand.”
Caleb glared at her, but did as she asked.
Slamming the door behind him, she focused on the new number one man in her life: Norman.
Honey went back to the cage and scooped up Normy once again, cuddling him close and looking for any sign of injury. His eyes were clear, no hint of pain glazing the orbs, and he seemed to be moving without any problems.
“You okay, sweet? Do we need to go back to the vet?”
A tiny chirp was his answer, and she thought she saw stark fear in his eyes.
Placing him on the carpet revealed that he scampered just fine. She knew they were hardy animals, and truthfully the distance between the couch and the wall wasn’t that great. And he had landed in the piled of blankets she kept on hand especially for her babies…
“Okay, little guy. We’ll play it by ear for now.” Cradling him once again, she padded into her bedroom.
Honey settled Normy on the pillow next to hers, and he immediately curled into a tiny ball, appearing to go to sleep. Considering she didn’t shift or move in the night, she was confident nothing would happen to the little guy.
It took her no time to strip from her dress and climb into bed. She’d relax, watch some TV and unwind. But she was exhausted from the night’s activities and immediately fell into a fitful sleep, breathing evenly. She was content with the fact that her hedgie seemed unharmed, and the rat bastard who’d hurt poor Norman was now home nursing some scarred fingers. Good. She was glad. Sort of. Okay, she didn’t wish ill on anyone, but he’d hurt her Norman!
Sighing, she nestled deeper into the covers, slipping and sliding in that space between wake and sleep and thinking of the differences between the supposedly “perfect for her” Caleb and her bad boy Blake.
Just the thought of his name had her pussy clenching, growing wet and aching.
“Hmm… Blake.” She breathed his name, hoping against hope her dreams would be filled with him.
Deep in slumber, she dreamt of Blake with his scruffy cheeks and how they’d feel against her skin. How demanding his kiss would be. His lips skated across hers in a chaste caress, but then he returned, sliding his tongue into her mouth. He conquered and claimed, taking more and more.
His scent surrounded her, drugged her.
Yes. The kiss was everything she’d imagined. She moaned into his mouth, quietly encouraging him. “Mmm…”
He released her lips and trailed gentled kisses along her jaw, sliding over her neck and then over her collarbone. “Honey. Sweet mate.”
“Blake.” His name was barley a whisper. “Best dream ever.”
“Not a dream, my mate.” His voice was a deep growl, and that just heated her more.
Her pussy ached and grew damper by the second. She couldn’t wait for him to move on, shift from kisses to caresses and fuck-esses…
She almost giggled at the thought. Almost.
But then he delved past her lips once again, and all coherent thought left.
He licked and lapped at her, spreading his seductive flavors, and she suckled his tongue. Showed him exactly how talented she could be if he’d just move on.
Blake pulled away and nipped her lip, the sting of his bite racing through her like a shot.
Wait.
Pain?
Dream smexy times didn’t hurt. Not even a little. Honey’s mind was a pain-free zone.
Then it slammed into her like a semi-truck. This wasn’t “Dream Blake” and this sure as hell wasn’t a dream.
Mother fucker.
“Not a dream.”
Blake’s teeth still lingering over her lips, she waited until he withdrew from her mouth and then it was on like Donkey Kong.
Honey spun away from him, dislodging his body and putting as much distance between them as possible. Sure, she’d wanted him for longer than she could remember and yeah, she wanted to belong to him. But not like this. Not with him seducing her while she slept…
“Hon—”
“What the fuck?” Her voice was louder than she’d ever imagined, and her girls chittered and squeaked in the other room.
She snatched the blanket from the end of her bed and wrapped it around herself. She was covered by PJs, but she needed a shield.
Blake held up his hands, palms out, as if to show her he wasn’t a threat, his expression surprised, then bordering on pain and panic.
Riiight.
“Fuck… I thought you we— Now, Honey, it’s not what you think.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair. “I just… You see… The thing about it is…”
She wasn’t about to let him off easy. “Oh, you didn’t just make out with me while I was half-asleep? Really? That didn’t just happen? How far would we have gone, Blake? And what was that ‘mate’ shit?”
“Uh…” The man looked lost, his usual bravado gone, and all that was left was his naked, muscled body and a vulnerability she didn’t think she’d ever see in him.
Honey tightened her hold on the blanket.
Another round of squeaks and whines from the other room tore her focus from Blake and on to her other bed partner for the night. “Norman!”
Good God, the asshole better not have hurt her Normy while seducing her. She’d kill him. She’d grown attached to the contrary hedgie.
Honey dove for the bed, tossed pillows aside, and shoved Blake from the mattress in her search for the little guy. He was so tiny, an itty bitty, injured pigmy hedgie with no true way to protect himself against two bodies writhing in near ecstasy…
Wait. She was still mad at Blake about that. No, it wasn’t ecstasy. It was icky, bad.
She’d keep telling herself that. Maybe she’d begin to believe it. In a million years or so.
Tossing the bed revealed nothing, no sign of the small animal, but there also weren’t any smudges of blood either. At least her newest pet had gotten away unscathed.
“Honey…” Blake’s fingertips skimmed her shoulder and she jerked away from him, glaring for a moment before returning to her search.
“Help me find him, Blake. It’s your fault he’s hiding, and you’re going to help me make sure he’s okay.” When he didn’t immediately respond she glared at him over her shoulder, and he looked even more dejected and sheepish than before. “Blake?”
“Thing about it is…”
Oh, dear god. Her big bad wolf ate her itty bitty hedgie. Normy must have been protecting her, and he ate the little guy.
He was a dead wolf walking. At least, she assumed he was a wolf. He was huge and growly, and she’d always thought…
“Yes?” Honey straightened from her position crouched on the floor, where she had been peeking under the bed, and rose to her full height. It wasn’t much compared to him, but she’d go Crouching Hedgie Owner, Hidden Badass in an instant if he’d done anything to Normy. As if breaking in and trying to seduce her weren’t enough, he’d die if he did something to the abused hedgie.
“I, uh… I’m sort of… You see…”
“I’m waiting. If you ate him, so help me, I’ll destroy you. I’ll—”
He cut her off, running his hand through his hair before she could continue with her threats. And she had some pretty inventive ones, too.
“I’m Norman.”
“You’re…” No. No way. He wouldn’t. Would he? She shook her head. Maybe she wasn’t quite awake yet. Maybe… He must be under a doctor’s care for some mental imbalance. That’s what this was all about.
“I’m Norman. I’m…” He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple sliding along his neck. “I’m a werehedgehog. I sorta made sure you rescued me.”
A werehedgehog. The light dawned.
“A werehedgehog? And you… You were bloody… But… And…”
A werehedgehog who obviously staged getting the shit beat out of him so she would “rescue” him and he could weasel into her home. He’d manipulated his way in, sabotaged her date, and semi-seduced her in her sleep.
And…
And it was all too much.
“Out.” She bit out the word, unable to stand the sight of him any longer. Her love for him warred with her hatred and disgust at what he’d done.
“Wait…”
Honey turned her back, stared at the far wall and waited for the sounds of his departure. She just wanted him gone.
“Honey?”
She remained silent. Waited.
A heavy sigh finally sounded behind her and was followed by the thudding of his feet against her floor, the soft click of the front door opening and then closing.
She let the tears fall.
* * *
Fuck…ing hell!
Stumbling through the darkness, Blake headed for Honey’s shed, anxious to see if Bernie had dropped off his ride. And a spare set of clothes. The motorcycle was there as promised, and a dig through the saddlebags resulted in jeans, a t-shirt and a pair of boots. No helmet, but he just needed to get out of there.
Hopping on, he kick-started the thing and the bike roared to life. He popped it into gear, gunning the engine enough that the tire spun and the machine skittered around his standing leg, kicking up stones and dirt. Finally the tire caught on gravel, and he was gone, roaring into the darkness with no thought as to where he was headed.
Fuck fuck fuck! He’d thought she was awake. She’d been talking. Talking-ish.
Frustration, shame and pain lanced through him as if he’d been struck by lightning, his body flinching as he hunched over the handlebars, riding like the devil followed. Way too fast, but he didn’t care. What could the cops do? Arrest him for speeding and toss him in a cell overnight? Violence and anger filled him, the feelings directed inward.
