Red Velvet Moon

by Theodora Lane

  The doorbell jingled.

  Daphne, arms outstretched along the counter, groaned. Tony looked up.

  That crazy old lady, Rosa, stood in the doorway, with a huge toothless grin and blue eyes sparkling. She held what looked to be a Santa Claus costume in her arms.

  “Hot damn, that was some show!” She slapped her thigh. “I think I came just watching it. You two got to film that shit. Make a boatload of money on the Internet.”

  Daphne’s head lowered and came to rest on the counter. “Dear God,” she whispered.

  Tony choked and tried to stuff himself back into his pants.

  The question of what she’d seen had been answered. “Now, Rosa…” he stammered.

  “Don’t try to tell me you didn’t just bend your fiancée over the counter and fuck her senseless. I know a fucking when I see it.” She cackled. “And damn, you really gave it to her.”

  She came up to the counter and tapped Daphne on the head. Daphne straightened up and leaned back into Tony, as if looking for support.

  “And you? When you came? Sheer beauty. Got me wet.” Rosa winked at Daphne. Daphne turned around and laid her head against Tony’s chest, her cheeks flame red.

  “Rosa. Please. Don’t mention this, not to anyone,” Tony begged.

  “Like your brothers?” She guffawed. “Like I haven’t caught them doing the nasty in here before.” She looked around at the place. “Board of Health ought to come in here and test with one of those black lights. Bet there’s cum all over the place.” She waved her arms wildly.

  Tony groaned. “Do you have some cleaning for us?”

  “Yeah. Need this done for tomorrow. I’m the Santa at the old folks’ home. They love it when I hand out the presents.” She winked at them both. “Looks like the presents have been handed out here.”

  “Tomorrow. Sure, Rosa.” Tony gathered it up, tagged it, and handed her a receipt.

  She took the ticket, winked at them again, and turned to leave. As she danced toward the door, her hips moving in a parody of fucking, she whistled a familiar tune.

  Daphne turned to Tony, mouth open, and asked, “Was that ‘How Much is that Doggie in the Window?’”

  “Yes.” He groaned.

  “Do you think she knows? About you being a werewolf?”

  “What do you think?”

  Daphne slumped onto the counter. “I think that old woman knows every secret in this town. But I also think they couldn’t be safer.”

  Tony sighed and stared out the window as Rosa danced her way down the sidewalk. “I hope to God you’re right.”

  “Come here, wolf.” Daphne crooked her finger at him.

  “What?” He knew that sparkle in her eyes.

  “I have another present to hand out.” She smiled as she sank to the floor behind the counter, undoing his button, and yanking down his pants. With just the touch of her hand on his cock, he hardened.

  “I love getting presents.” Tony groaned as she took him in her mouth. He kept watch for anyone who might come into the store, but thank God, no one did. Not even after he’d claimed his mate again, painting her throat with his cum.

  “My wolf.” She stood and kissed him.

  “My mate.” He kissed her back, pulling her into his arms. His cell phone rang. He picked it up and glanced at it. “Yeah, Diego?”

  “Hola, little brother. Just some advice. Next time, close the blinds on the shop windows.” A loud wolf howl came over the phone as he snapped it shut and tossed it back onto the counter.

  “Your brother too?” Daphne asked.

  “Welcome to the Lobos family. Still want to join?” He cupped her face in his hand.

  “Damn straight. There’s nothing like family. Even if it’s a couple of crazy wolf-boys.”

  “Wolf-boys?” He choked at her turn of phrase.

  “Well, frat-boys was taken.”

  “Point taken.”

  “I love you, Antonio Lobos.”

  “I love you, Daphne Raine.”

  They kissed, long and deep, and this time when the doorbell jingled, they parted and greeted the next customer.

  “Welcome to Tres Lobos,” they said in unison, still holding hands.

  About the Author

  Theodora Lane was born in the south, raised by her grandmother who taught her the art of the backhanded compliment, how to make sweet tea, and that you can never have too many husbands, just not at the same time.

  By day, Theodora lives an unassuming life, having lunch with the ladies, attending baby showers and playing refined card games. By night, she writes wickedly sexy and funny stories, hangs out in bars, and gathers ideas for her next book.

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