Indecent Werewolf Exposure

by Eve Langlais

  I began to think victory could be ours. We might win against this thing. Then, the unthinkable…

  The demon’s tail lashed out of nowhere, the barbed tip catching Anthony across the back and tearing open a huge gash. But it wasn’t the wound that distracted him.

  I did.

  A cry left me, breaking his concentration for just a moment.

  A millisecond too long.

  The demon pounced, taking my vampire lover to the ground. Horrified, I slapped my free hand over my mouth. Pete jumped onto the demon’s back, but tired and injured, he could only yank on the demon’s head, trying to keep the jagged teeth from tearing out Anthony’s throat. A stalemate that wouldn’t end well once his stamina gave up.

  I didn’t even realize I’d run toward them until I was there, standing before the monster who terrified me, smelling the stench of Hell, feeling the malevolence roiling off it, coating me in an invisible miasma.

  Gross. But not as gross as the fluid that sprayed me when I plunged my kitchen knife as far as it would go into its glaring red orb. I’d like to say I did this intentionally. That I took careful aim and found my bravery.

  Nope.

  Wheezing and caterwauling, shaking—grateful for the Kegel clenches I practiced daily—I blindly stabbed at the thing and got lucky.

  Horrified on so many levels, I released my grip on the slippery kitchen implement and staggered back.

  But I’d done enough.

  With the injury I inflicted, the demon lost its will to fight.

  Not my men. Pete, barely recognizable in his other shape, and Anthony, feral-eyed and equally wild, attacked the mortally wounded creature. One raked claws over the other eye, plucking it from its skull and crushing it in a hairy fist, while the other used his teeth to tear chunks from the demon’s neck, his throat moving in a convulsive gesture that said he swallowed.

  I am not ashamed to admit I turned from the carnage at this point and threw up on the street.

  Stumbling away from the tussle, I fell to the soft and fragrant grass, inhaling only for a moment the vivid liveliness of it before the stench covering me tainted it.

  There, kneeling on Pete’s front lawn, I shook and sobbed. I couldn’t have said why. Was it the near-death experience? The fact I’d helped kill something, even something so evil? Was it seeing my lovers for what they really were? Monsters of their own.

  Whatever the reason, when a gentle hand came to rest upon my shoulder, I shrieked and scrambled away on hands and knees. “Don’t touch me!”

  “Shh, baby. It’s okay now. It’s just me.” Just Pete. Just Pete, the werewolf covered in a layer of gore.

  I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes and rocked. When Anthony touched me next, I flinched.

  “It’s all right, Chloe, we won.”

  Won the battle, but at what cost? I’d lost my innocence. I could no longer wear blinders or pretend. I was a human dating monsters. I was just a woman, out of her element. And I’m so fucking scared.

  If my big moment ever came, I’d always hoped I could handle it with the cool, composed grace seen so often on screen. Instead, I blubbered, and my nose ran. I stank of demon guts and was covered in blood and fluids best not mentioned. Some heroine I’d turned out to be.

  I only panicked and thrashed a little when Pete scooped me up and brought me into the house. I didn’t have the strength or skill to actually escape. The hot spray of the shower proved a welcome balm to my wounded psyche. As the evidence of my ordeal washed away, so did some of my terror. I took heaving breaths, trying to calm my pounding heart, vaguely aware that one set of arms was replaced by another. But still, I wouldn’t respond. Couldn’t. With my jaw shaking, I’d have probably bitten my tongue off if I’d tried.

  I’d interviewed enough victims in shock to know what I experienced. I just never expected it would ever happen to me. I now had more sympathy for what some of them had endured.

  When my teeth finally stopped chattering, I opened my eyes and found Anthony’s concerned gaze trained on me.

  Of the savage vampire, not a sign remained. His eyes were back to their usual electric blue, concern creasing them at the corners. I couldn’t hold his gaze and dropped my eyes to stare at his lips.

  Gone were the fangs he’d used to tear at the demon’s flesh. Yet I couldn’t forget them. Couldn’t forget that the same lips I’d kissed, the mouth that caressed my skin, had suckled at the demon, feeding from it. My stomach roiled as I wondered how I could ever kiss those lips again. I couldn’t hide my reaction.

  “You just started shaking again. What’s wrong?”

  What to say? What but the truth, or at least a partial version of? “Just wondering if you flossed and brushed your teeth?” And, yes, it sounded stupid, but in that moment, I just had to know.

  Did he have demon bits stuck between his chompers? Blood breath? If he attempted to embrace me, I didn’t want to puke.

  “Yes. I also used mouthwash.”

  For some reason, this eased some of my tension, and I leaned into him, noting in that moment that while I was naked, he still wore his slacks. “You know, most people find a shower works better without clothing.”

  “I didn’t want to waste more time than needed. One of us needed to go out and answer some questions.”

  Ah, yes, the handoff. I vaguely recalled it happening. One set of arms exchanged for another. “Is that where Pete is?”

  “Yes. The other agents arrived just as we finished off the demon.”

  “Shouldn’t you be down there giving your own statement?”

  “They can wait. You’re more important. And before you ask, or jump to the wrong conclusion, Pete would have stayed too, but we figured it best if one of us kept an eye on the situation. He lost the coin toss.”

  It did make me feel better to know they’d both wanted to soothe me. “And did he also brush his teeth?”

  Anthony chuckled. “Yes. Yes, he did. He also got a quick rinse off while I took care of my teeth. So if you’re worried about running into him still wearing a layer of gore, then don’t. We might not be human, but we’re not monsters.”

  Funny how he used that word. “Aren’t you?” I couldn’t help the query from slipping from my lips.

  I didn’t miss the way his whole body stilled. I knew I’d wounded him. Knew, but as someone who admired the truth, I had to say it. I owed it to them because I’d seen their other sides. Their non-human side. I couldn’t hide from the reality anymore.

  “Is that what you think? That we’re monsters?”

  A heavy sigh left me. “I don’t know what to think. I mean, you told me what you were. I understood it on some level, but…”

  “But knowing it and seeing it are two different things.”

  I nodded.

  His turn to sigh. “I’m sorry, Chloe. I wish we could have somehow spared you the ugliness that sometimes comes with our job.”

  “You mean this happens on a regular basis?” Did being involved with them mean I’d have to expect them coming home every other day covered in blood and guts?

  “Not to this extent, no, but if you’re asking if I’ve had to fight for my life before, to revert to my primitive urges and instinct for survival, then yes. As has Pete, I’m sure. Someone needs to stand up to darkness.”

  He made it sound so noble. It made me feel petty. However, unlike some, I’d never aspired to heroic greatness. “But do you and Pete have to be the flashlight?” My poor attempt at humor fell flat.

  “Let me ask you a question. Why did you come to our rescue?”

  “Because you would have died otherwise.”

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  Um, did he not notice the puking and shaking of my body parts? “No. I hated it.” Would probably require years of therapy because of it.

  “Well, while I won’t claim to hate it, I can admit that I’m not fond of it. However, the alternative is worse.”

  “The alternative being?”

  “Sitting back a
nd doing nothing while innocents suffer.”

  Just my luck. Altruistic boyfriends. “So is this your way of saying ‘suck it up, buttercup’? In other words, if I’m going to be with you, I’d better invest in some bleach to get out the bloodstains?”

  “No bleach needed. Cold water usually does the trick.”

  My narrowed-eyed glare conveyed my opinion adequately, I thought. He still laughed.

  “I’m not demanding you come along with us wielding a mighty kitchen knife or that you like it when we choose to fight the forces of evil.”

  “You’re laying it on pretty thick there, vampire.”

  He ignored my attempt at sarcastic levity. “But I do hope you can learn to accept me, and the wolf, for who we are.”

  Accept the fact they were more than human? More than pretty faces and excellent lovers? More than just fuck friends but men I’d come to care for? Oh, for the days of yesterday when my life didn’t have such complications. “How about we take it one day, and one demon, at a time?” was my compromise.

  “Good enough for now.”

  But for how long?

  Wrapped in a towel, Anthony carried me from the bathroom straight to Pete’s bedroom. He deposited me on the bed and stripped out of his sopping, destroyed trousers, revealing his lean hips, and his cock, currently dormant amidst the dark curls at his groin. Good to know he didn’t find all the violence a turn-on. I might have freaked some more.

  Pulling on a pair of dry athletic pants hanging over a chair—Adidas in a perfect size, leading me to believe his invisible servant had struck again—he left his chest bare to come to me and yank me on his lap. He towel dried me, hair first, fluffing my wet strands until they were damp and no longer dripping. Then he attacked my body, the friction of fabric on my skin not just soaking up the moisture but warming my frigid skin. Then, from another magical pile, he pulled out a pair of woman’s cottony PJs with happy faces on them.

  At my arched brow, he laughed. “I had my man pick you up some things.”

  And instead of going for something he would have enjoyed, he’d opted for something I would. Little things like that were why I couldn’t walk away. Anthony and Pete couldn’t help who they were. Nothing about them had changed.

  Yet I had.

  Tucked into bed, I thought sleep would elude me. However, adrenaline and the emotional upheaval left behind had drained me more than I thought. I drifted into a deep sleep.

  And then my subconscious attacked me.

  18

  The monsters are lunging at the bloody heap on the ground. The slurping sounds as they rip and suckle at the flesh echo in the still night. I dare not breathe. I dare not move. I want to do nothing to bring their attention upon me.

  But I can’t watch. I can’t watch and hope to keep my sanity.

  I take a step back. Then another. A pebble rolls, the tiniest of sounds, and yet they hear it. A pair of heads lift from the feast. Golden eyes fix on me, and the hairy wolf takes a step. I whimper, especially when I see the dark gaze of the other also eyeing me. I see no humanity in the bottomless depths.

  Oh, no. I’m next.

  I whirl and run. But I am too slow. Too human. They catch me. Shaking me in their grasp. Growling and snarling and…

  “Chloe! Wake up, baby. It’s just a dream.”

  “More like a nightmare, you idiot.”

  Call it what they wanted, I was just glad it wasn’t real. I opened my eyes to see the very normal gazes of my lovers peering down at me with concern.

  Pete, while scruffy and in need of a shave, didn’t sport great big canines. Anthony’s eyes blazed, but with a blue light, no sign of pointed incisors.

  I wasn’t in bed with monsters. And the sooner I realized that, the faster I’d hopefully heal. Or so the psychiatrist I later saw twice a week claimed.

  The rough pads of Pete’s fingers gently stroked the flesh of my arm. “Are you okay, baby?”

  No. But I wanted to be. I didn’t reply to his query. I drew him down instead for a kiss. A stiff one initially, as the fear tried to keep its wily claws dug in. However, as the familiar feel of his mouth slanting over mine awakened my body, it also dissipated my trepidation.

  I knew this man. He would never hurt me. I opened my mouth and let his tongue in.

  On the other side, Anthony pressed his lips to my ear lobe, tickling it and sending shivers to course through my body. I only tensed a little when he moved his mouth to the soft skin of my neck. Thankfully, he didn’t suck at my skin as he usually did, probably a good thing in my still fragile state.

  Softly, sensually, with a gentle passion we’d not often indulged in, they made love to me. I could even call it worshipped. I lay between them, an altar of flesh, and using their hands, mouths, tongues, they payed homage to me. Showed me they were capable of great tenderness. I needed that.

  I needed them.

  Selfish or not, I let them have their way. My participation limited to breathy gasps, the occasional arch of my body, the moisture pooling between my legs. When they both chose to lavish attention on a nipple, I threaded my fingers through the soft strands of their hair, noting the differences in texture as I stroked.

  When hands pried my thighs apart, I didn’t peek to see whose cock stood poised to enter me first; however, I guessed it the moment the head speared me. Anthony kept his thrusts smooth and slow, pushing into me deep then withdrawing, while Pete continued to play with my breasts, the rough beard on his jaw abrading my skin, tenderizing it.

  When Anthony came, I came with him, my body milking his cock with long, shuddering waves.

  And then it was Pete’s turn. His thick endowment stretched the trembling walls of my channel, and I gasped, my hips arching. Wet, so very wet. I ached for more and he penetrated me with ease. Took up a cadence that pleasured me.

  They wanted more from me, though. To my shock, I felt a tongue against my clit. I opened my eyes to see Anthony leaning forward, lavishing my nub with attention.

  Dear gawd. How incredible. Sated once already, I couldn’t resist the erotic pleasure of having my pussy fucked while my clit got sucked. A second orgasm coiled within me. My breathing quickened, shortened until I fairly heaved to take in air. I couldn’t help but watch the erotic tableaux, both my lovers intent on my body. One thrusting, the muscles in his body rigid and slick with sweat, while the other, his slender fingers holding me decadently parted, let his tongue dance upon my most sensitive part.

  I don’t know what I yelled when I came, but I’m sure it left their ears ringing.

  When I regained enough of my wits to notice my surroundings, I found myself in a manwich, Pete to the left of me, Anthony to the right, and there I was, stuck in the middle of the two.

  It made me think of a slogan I’d seen on a T-shirt when the government first began to tout the benefits of polygamy.

  Two’s a couple, three’s the law.

  Ready or not, and despite what I’d once thought, I had two men in my life. Men I loved. Men I trusted, yet didn’t. A life that frightened, and yet left me feeling alive. Did I know what the future would bring? No. Did I fear it? Damned right. But I couldn’t hide from it. I, Chloe, defender of the innocent—until proven guilty—would embrace my new life. Even if it killed me. And to those who wondered, I’d finally begun an infamous bucket list.

  Item number one: Live each day like it might be your last.

  Morbid, which is why number two was: Never skip dessert. Bring on the cheesecake.

  Epilogue

  With the demon cat vanquished, life returned to some semblance of normalcy. After enjoying the remainder of my two weeks unpaid holiday to recover from my trauma—spent mostly in bed while my lovers lavished me with attention and baked goods—I returned to my desk job.

  A few things did change, though. One, I was seeing a headshrink who specialized in traumatized victims of paranormal origin. Pompous little fellow who looked a lot like a leprechaun, but, given the daily nightmares, I needed to do something. Talking
to someone who didn’t book me a room at the nearest insane asylum helped, as did the prescription sleeping pills, when I didn’t forget to take them.

  Nightmares plagued me. Lingering fear of the demon attack.

  The one thing I didn’t have a problem with was the reality of my lovers. I’d seen their true inner beasts. Seen what the world called monsters.

  I loved them. I didn’t care if Anthony liked to give me hickeys, or that Pete had this thing about fetching my slippers. They loved me.

  Everything else, was just everything else.

  Unable to return to the scene of devastation, the memory of my precious shoes ruined beyond hope of repair, I leased my condo to Brenda, who was dying to move out of her parents’ place. Did I mention she’d developed a certain attraction to the guards who’d spirited her from the scene of the crime? After a massive painting and recarpeting job, she moved in and proceeded to stalk Pete’s friends. Or did they stalk her? It really depended on who you spoke to.

  I ended up alternating between Pete’s house and Anthony’s—which did have a maid, a butler, and a cook I would have married if she didn’t wield such a wicked wooden spoon.

  While I always had a man underfoot, given their different schedules, we rarely spent time with all three of us together. Probably a good thing, given the fact they still hadn’t quite adjusted to the whole sharing thing.

  Sure, I missed those two glorious occasions when limbs got tangled, bodies sweaty, and everyone came in an erotic, toe-curling orgasm. Maybe they were saving the next one for a special occasion like my birthday. But while we didn’t have a wild orgy every night, I couldn’t complain about the time I spent one-on-one with them where the climaxes were out of this fucking world.

  The night I finally said I love you? Let’s just say I might have broken glass.

  Amazing what letting go of fear could do.