4
I had thought the offer of security was a bit over the top. And that it would mean a uniformed police officer sitting in a patrol car out the front of my building doing not much. What it actually meant was Detective Williams taking the personal job of ensuring my safety once I left the bar by escorting me back to my apartment. It seemed rude to not invite him in.
“Would you like a drink?” I ask him as I close the door and start walking towards the kitchen. He keeps standing by the entrance, looking around. I’m wondering why when he says “You don’t really need night lighting in here do you?” And I realize I’ve forgotten a very simple human custom. Switching the light on. Playing the emotional female means I would’ve lit up the place and looked all around to make sure no bad guy was there. But being a werewolf means my night vision, even in human form is excellent and I rarely reach for the lights first and foremost at night time.
My apartment has a view overlooking central park. Above the tree line. So a lot of moon light gets in from the three large almost ceiling to floor windows. It practically lights up my staging area as you walk in. “Oh, yeah, the windows, One of the best things about the apartment.” I say traipsing into the kitchen and pulling out a bottle of red from a wine rack in there.
I walk back out and Detective William’s moved from the entrance to standing in the middle of the room, looking towards the windows. “Here,” I put two wine glasses down on the coffee table and the bottle of red. “I better not.” He says quickly. “I’m still on the clock here.”
I reach forward and slip off my heels. “Oh, so this is actually official police business.” Damn I must be losing my touch. I actually thought that was just a ruse to get back here with me.
“Yes.” He says with a somewhat apologetic look on his face back at me. I pick up the bottle of red.
“Probably would give you the wrong impression about me anyway, given today’s events.” He’s walking around my apartment slowly, and looking at things, annualizing me no doubt. He picks up a framed photograph. It’s an old one that has Montell, our old pack leader and a group of us.
“I know this guy.” He mutters softly and I open the bottle of red. He looks back over at me while holding the photographic frame, expecting me to tell him more. I pour two glasses of red and leave one on the table. “Had a few run ins with him.” He puts the photograph down and walks over to me and I pat the sofa for him to sit down. “Is he related?” Detective Williams asks as he sits down and I sit down next to him, tucking my legs up under me.
“No.”
His eyes lock onto mine. “Hit a nerve already. That has to be a record, even for me.” I try to smile and seem cool about his line of questioning.
“An ex,” I state back at him.
“And you still keep his picture up. Must still be important to you.” I sigh, Detective Williams is like a dog with a bone, he won’t let it go. I tilt my head to the side and can feel my gaze sharpen on him.
“Was.” I reply playing his game.
I’m a werewolf, it’s not in my biology to back down from a challenge, and this is one. Playing head games with the pretty detective without telling him what he does not know. Or thinks he knows. If he’s had run ins with Montell in the past, then who knows what he knows about werewolves and the whole scene. Even if he hasn’t he’s a New York detective, he might’ve experienced some weird situations that are related to any one of the five packs in New York.
He nods his head. “Got to say, I’m surprised to see him in that photo.”
“Why?”
“I remember a lot of weird shit happening around his neighborhood and somehow, none of it made sense but it always got sorted out or resolved in some manner before it could become official police business. Lots of uh, close calls as it was.” I drink a mouthful of wine. Yep, that sounds like Montell’s reign of our pack, wasn’t the smoothest or calmest of times. Paris is a different leader and the pack is running much better because of his leadership. I’ll give him that.
“The picture is only one of a handful I actually have of my sister, she wasn’t big on having her picture taken.” I reply choosing to ignore the rest of his conversation. Actually the reality of it is, it’s the only photo I have of Montell. I’m not going to be tempted into treading thin ground and giving anything away that is not mine to discuss. Our werewolf pack has a strict rule about revealing that werewolves exist to non wolves or paranormal. I sip more wine. He picks up his wine glass and sniffs the top of it.
“Was it because of the company you two kept, with him I mean?” He murmurs and I clink glasses with him. before putting my head in my hand and lean back on the sofa.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean?”
“I remember, we were suspicious of that guy, from the get go, what was his name?”
“Montell Wahib.” I supply. “But you already knew that.”
He sips his wine. “Right, Montell Wahib. We couldn’t get a proper read on him, but we thought he ran some sort of inner city cult. Which in itself barely made sense because cults are notoriously private and security conscious, they prefer distance from society to better control their follows than have influences interact or chance cross anyone’s path.”
I frown at him. He’s taunting me, wanting me to say something to Montell’s defense, to lash out at him. But I’m not going to because I can see through the game he’s playing. “But you know, we never found anything to support the theory and hold up.” Oh a nice little taunt. I take the red wine glass out of his hand.
“You’ve had enough. You’re working after all.” I say standing up and picking up the wine glass and bottle. “I mean, if I didn’t know any better detective, I’d swear you were working me instead of working for me.” I say over my shoulder putting the wine back in the kitchen.
He stands up and puts his hands on his hips, it pulls his jacket back revealing a button down shirt that clings to a solid chest. His service weapon on a belt at his side. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”
“Oh, I know,” I state. “You meant for me to rush in with indignation and give you some sort of information that you want for whatever fanciful story you made up about my ex.” I’m offended, I’m angry and I’m still going to be in control here when it comes to winning this mind fucking game. I already beat one guy today, I still have plenty in my mental reserves as well as physical. “Well as you can see, my apartment is safe.” I say walking back out and over to the door.
“Miss Colton, I am sorry I’ve offended you. I did genuinely want to ensure you were okay tonight. It was my intention to just look out for you.” I turn around and face him again.
“You’re trying to save face?” I ask him.
“No I think there is egg firmly over it. I’m trying to stay.” He says back at me. I nod my head. And here I was thinking I’d half imagined the chemistry between us.
“What you got nowhere to sleep tonight?” I reply. He chuckles. “I’m going to bed. Good night Detective Williams.”
“Goodnight Miss Colton.”
5
A solid chest of warmth crushes my breasts and hips move against me, between my legs, that are pulled up high and around his waist. His cock thrusts into me and feels like it knows all my depths, all my desires are brought to the surface and I’m lost in the sensation of bliss that is racing through my blood, tickling my nerves, dancing along my veins. My muscles fit him and the tactile touch of two bodies moving slow, building up something so fast by being so passionately in control of their actions, is astounding me. I’ve never felt this way with anyone before.
It’s different when it’s not just sex. When there is a connection to another that is not just pleasurable, but somehow heightening on every level. How can one being be the only person who gets that about you and has the ability to make that imprint on you so greatly that no one else can compare even when they try?
I feel the sheets tangle around my ankles like make shift bindings as his soft balls hit my ski
n and his cock hits inside me causing me to cry out quickly. That’s when I wake up and realize I’m in my bed and tangled up in my bed sheets.
“No!” I pant and look around me. Tears slide down my face and I push the sheets aside quickly and get out of the bed in annoyance, wiping at my face.
My dreams are pulled from my memories of a time passed. But still feels raw and very real to me most of the time. Which is probably why I can’t let it go. Because Bg Sommers romancing Paris D’arenberg is a slap in the face of that reminder of how I lost Montell. Pack leadership battles, are still done the old fashioned way. Leadership is either handed over or fought for, till the death. Having Detective Williams talk about Montell earlier has stirred something deep in me that I had thought I had control over.
Werewolves are taught all about control and how to suppress and manage their urges and needs to blend seamlessly into society because the world just isn’t ready for our kind to be out and open. But nobody tells you how to control your dreams when you’re heart is open and breaking. Seeing Bg and Paris and then having Detective Williams talk about old times, was like a hammer cracking away at something silently inside me that I didn’t still know was breakable.
I storm out of my bedroom and march into living room to find Detective Williams stretched out on my sofa. I stand over him, looking at him sleeping. The werewolf in me wants to dominate the lesser being below me. It’s a thought that makes me feel comfortable, and strong. Kneeling down and over him, causes him to wake up as I crawl up his still fully clothed body.
“What?” He jerks away and his hands automatically land on all of me, where ever they go, nothing but naked skin, at first in panic as he tries to make sense of what is going on, then they start to roam, sliding over smooth skin. Down the curves of my ass, the backs of my legs it all feels like woman to him.
“You okay?” He asks softly.
“I will be.” I mutter as I kiss his mouth and find him responding to me. His tongue eager to stroke my mouth and delight in the wetness of our kiss as his hands find their way to my breasts. A heavy shudder leaves him and he deepens the kiss between us, pulling me down to him. My knee moves up and lands on something solid and awkward at his side, I groan in pain and lift my knee up, causing us to break the kiss.
“Shit, sorry.” He mutters and unclips his gun and puts it on the table quickly, out of the way of where my knee wants to sit. He brushes my blonde hair back and pauses to look back up at me. “Gabby, can I call you Gabby?”
“Yes”
“You okay, you here, or sleep walking or something?” I sigh and push back and remove myself off him. He’s ruined the moment and I’m not that horny. I’m just upset and resorting to sex for distraction.
“I’m awake.” I say as he sits up into a sitting position and we sit side by side on the couch.
“What is it? What brought this on?” I look at him and wonder if I can just tell him. No more games. No more secrets between us. The night brings with it not only memories of the past, but comfort with a sense of honesty to it. I’m sitting naked next to a police detective in my apartment. “You can tell me.”
“Can’t tell someone I don’t know the first name of.” I reply automatically. Still it’s hard to let go. To trust. Werewolves and trust are not an automatic first instinct.
“My name’s Derrick” I look at him in the darkness and he moves closer to me. “Now, do you want to talk to me and tell me why you’re acting out?”
“It’s been a weird day.” I answer.
“I’m sure it’s been a bit of a shock to your system, what with what that perp tried to do to you and,”
“Not that.” I say looking back over at him. “I mean, yes, that’s weird and I did feel a bit shaky afterwards and not myself. Like he’d taken a bit of power from me by doing that.”
“That’s a natural reaction, it’s delayed shock.” Derrick says back at me putting an arm around my shoulders.
“But then running into Bg and Paris in Crescent. That was unexpected and that bar is like, I don’t know, like my safe place, my escape, my go to place when I just want to get away from everyone.” I blurt out and look away. He puts a finger under my chin and turns my head back to him. I am babbling. Since when do I babble?
“Go on.”
“And it felt like they were invading my space, and uh, then you talking about the photograph with Montell in it.” I sigh looking over in the direction of it in the darkened room. “It’s like this day has been pushing at me and you just stirred up something in me that I thought I’d contained. But it turns out I only pushed it down in me, but a few quick questions from you and it all surfaces.”
“You miss him.”
“Yes.” I say out loud surprised at myself and hold Derrick’s gaze.
“Break-ups suck,” He says back at me. “But if it was meant to be you’d still be with him, right?” He goes on, completely off track with what I’m trying to say without telling him the whole story. “You’re only human Gabby. We carry things that are dear to us, deep within us because we want to hold them close, and remember them forever. It’s how we’re built.”
I smile weakly back at him and wipe at my eyes. I know he means well, but he has no fucking idea. That I pine for my werewolf lover, my true pack leader, because he’s dead and gone. Because I’m in a pack that’s so different from when he was here, that I wonder where my place is in it when I’m commonly referred to more often as bitch than by my name.
Related reading with Gabby:
Lunar Night Stand
Revenge
Reasons
Bitch
More stories on Gabby Colton be found the blog A Werewolf Blog in Brooklyn http://altijdbreukelen.wordpress.com
The playlist for this zine:
You can’t hold us down - Christina Aguerliera
Love is All There is – Sheryl Crow
No Diggity - Chet Faker
Chasing Pavements - Adele
Rip her to Shreds - Blondie
Cover me- Bruce Springsteen
Castle Walls (Fauxs’ Dubstep Chillout) - Christina Aguerliera
Heartbeats - The Gossip
Extrodinary Girl - Green Day
Photograph - Ed Sheerin
Bruekelen Girl Novels at Smashwords.com
Wolves at The Door
Wolves Love
Wolves
Red White and Werewolf
Werewolf Storm
Wild Life
Lunar Night Stand
The Pack
Revenge
Reasons
Bitch
Of Wolf and Male
Beasts of Burden
Nature of the Beast
Alpha
Lycan Life
Lycan La Vida Loca
Perception
Growing up Werewolf
Other Breukelen girl (werewolf) novels
Lunar Nights
Bleeding Hearts
The Shadow trilogy:
Shadow Aspect – Book 1
Shadow Games – Book 2
Shadow Boxing – Book 3
The blog zines
Lycan Life
Wanton Werewolf
Werewolf Wilderness
Bitch
Red White and Werewolf
A podcast series and novel
The free prequel podcast can be found on www.itunes.com and www.sticherradio.com and www.talkshoe.com
The day before her twenty ninth birthday Bg Sommers is kidnapped before the eyes of her pack mate lover Paris D’arenberg.
Awaking far from her home in Brooklyn New York, Bg finds herself in unfamiliar surroundings two other kidnapped werewolves, Phelan and Thane Cavello, alpha werewolf males. Together with the werewolves, must work together to escape being hunted, by a powerfully terrifying, relentless enemy. Even if it means, disobeying werewolf pack laws and territory lines.
Together Phelan, Thane and Bg try to work through their differences. But Bg finds the risks of being ar
ound the Cavello’s is far greater than first thought. A connection between the three werewolves, threatens to do more damage to Bg and her life, than she could have ever imagined.
Uncovering the meaning of the three werewolves connection will mean confronting her past, to reclaim her future especially if she is to have one with Paris.
Wolves At The Door
The werewolf across the hall from Hooper Parish’s place is hot. So damn hot that Hooper can’t help but pay attention to him so badly that all he wants to do is submit to the Alpha werewolf, Thane Cavello.
But Hooper has issues. One; he hates werewolves, two; he hates werewolf packs, three; he hates lycans and four; he hates himself because he is a lycan. Made by a werewolf after an attack, seventeen years ago. Can he learn to love himself enough to be loved in return? Do you let the wolf that you are define you or the one you could be?
Falling for Thane was always going to be a challenge and a complicating one at that for Hooper to work out.
Add families from both sides of each male to the mix, and secrets are going to get exposed, and love will challenge loyalty because of it. Who do these wolves trust, when it can’t be their own kind and their hearts know no better? Leaving Hooper with another issue to add to his list; like what does he want out of his lycan life, a pack mate, love, or family?
Wolves
Tatum Lee is a lycan. She knows it. She can’t help but not know it, because it seems everyone is always reminding her of it.
Being a lycan isn’t exactly a title you wear with pride, far from it. In New York City, home to the Manhattan Maen werewolf pack, it’s the last thing she wants to announce upon her arrival there. Tatum just wants to be left alone. But it seems that isn’t going to happen.
Especially when she captures the attention of Wiatt D’arenberg, enforcer for the Manhattan Maen pack. It’s Wiatt’s job to ensure there are no lycan in the Manhattan Maen’s territory, including Tatum. But once she’s on his radar, he can’t seem to get her off it.
Bitch Page 2
