Revenge Of The Wereslut (Wereslut Book 2, Steamy Gender Swap Romance)

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Revenge Of The Wereslut (Wereslut Book 2, Steamy Gender Swap Romance) Page 1

by Meghan Archer




  Revenge Of The Wereslut

  When Bryce wakes up after a night of debauchery as the lustful Brittney, he can hardly remember a thing. He thinks a coffee date with his best friend, Julie, might clear up his memory, but when he's with her, she's all he can think about. Unfortunately for him, Julie is a lesbian, which means that Bryce doesn't have a chance in hell with her.

  But then he spots a familiar thatch of red hair out of the corner of his eye, only this time, that hair sits atop the head of a man named Thom. When Bryce confronts him outside, Thom reveals that there is no reversing the curse of the wereslut, but that doesn't mean he can't make the most of it—especially with a beautiful woman such as Julie.

  There's something slippery about Thom, something Bryce can't quite place. He knows he shouldn't trust the words of the man who took away his manhood. And yet a chance with Julie would be the chance of a lifetime. Can he put aside his loathing for Thom and accept his new life as a wereslut?

  When the full moon rises again, will he have a choice?

  Revenge Of The Wereslut

  (‘Curse Of The Wereslut’ Book 2 of 3)

  Nora Nix and Meghan Archer

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All participants in these fictitious events are consenting, non-related adults over the age of eighteen.

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  Copyright 2015 True Desire Publishing

  All rights reserved.

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  Renowned bestselling authors Nora Nix and Meghan Archer are back with a STEAMY Paranormal Gender-Swap Romance series!

  ALL THREE PARTS OF THE WERESLUT TRILOGY ARE AVAILABLE RIGHT NOW!

  Book 1: Curse Of The Wereslut

  Book 2: Revenge Of The Wereslut

  Book 3: An American Wereslut In London

  Revenge Of The Wereslut

  Bryce awoke surrounded by an almost oppressive warmth.

  His world was dark and confined, suffocating in its closeness. The warmth clung to him, pulling at him as he feebly tried to escape its comfortable clutches. The more he struggled, the more Bryce began to remember where he actually was, and as he finally broke free from his stifling cocoon of bed sheets and pillows he could see the all-too-familiar sights of his bedroom all around him.

  Something felt strange as he stretched out in the warm sunlight that had been turning his makeshift burrow into a veritable oven as he slept. A fog was heavy over his thoughts, making it hard for him to recall the events of the night before. How had he gotten home? And what had happened at the movie theater?

  As he lay there on his bed, the faintest memory of going into the bathroom floated across his mind. He remembered that something was wrong, that he had been so scared—but of what? His head started to hurt with the effort of remembering. What was he missing? Did someone drug him? What had happened in that bathroom that had made him black out?

  It hit him like a ton of bricks. Bryce stared down at his chest and the memories came flooding back to him like a tidal wave. He suddenly remembered watching himself sprouting a pair of pillowy tits that had ripped the buttons off of his shirt. He remembered the sensation of losing his manhood and having it replaced with a wet, tight pussy. But most of all, he remembered the insatiable hunger that had gripped him—the need to be fucked.

  Bryce rubbed his face, his heart racing as he tried to come to grips with the terror of last night’s events. Little by little the memories of what he had done in that bathroom returned to him: how he had taken some barely-legal punk into the stall and taken his cock like a whore. He felt disgusted with himself, horrified that he could have ever wanted such a thing. But at the same time, he could feel the thing inside of him that had wanted it as it brushed against his consciousness.

  “Brittney,” he whispered, gasping as the thing inside of him flooded his mind with the unbridled sensation of last night’s orgasmic escapades. He arched his back as the feeling rolled through him like a freight train. His cock stiffened and his hips bucked as he remembered the way he—no, she—came around that stud’s thick cock.

  She was still there, still inside of his mind, just waiting for her next chance to get out. He remembered the redhead, the one from a month before who’d taken a bite out of his shoulder after one of the few sexual encounters he’d had in years. He remembered the moon, the way it had shone so full in the sky. It seemed too corny, too outrageous. Had he been turned into some kind of wereslut?

  “Dammit.” Bryce got out of bed and scrambled over to his bathroom, needing proof that he was still him after the things he’d done. Sure enough, the only person staring at him in that mirror was the same face he remembered.

  He touched his skin, still needing to know that this wasn’t the dream. It felt like him. It looked like him. But something plagued the back of his mind as he stared into his reflection, like a shadow hanging over him. He half expected the reflection of the creature he’d become to be staring at him, mocking him about how much he’d loved the feeling of a fat cock in his cunt.

  The chiming of his cellphone from the bedroom knocked him out of his reverie. Who would be calling him now? He hoped to God that that slut hadn’t given someone a number to call for a good time.

  He picked his phone up from his bedside table, surprised to see his best friend Julie’s name plastered across the screen.

  Bryce sighed wistfully as the image of Julie’s face floated across his mind’s eye. She was his best friend, but he had always wanted her to be so much more than that. Ever since the two of them were in elementary school, Bryce had had the biggest crush on her. But when she came out as a lesbian, he had lost all hope of ever being with her.

  He swiped his thumb across the touch screen and pulled up the text message that she had sent him.

  Hey! I feel like shit. Meet me at the coffee shop?

  Bryce smiled. He loved how Julie never used text jargon whenever she sent her messages.

  He supposed that came with being an English major, but it was one of the little things that Bryce loved about her. Part of him knew that he shouldn’t bother, that Julie wouldn’t find him attractive no matter what happened. After all, he wasn’t a—

  A woman.

  He could almost feel Brittney inside of him, smirking triumphantly with a smug look in her eyes. Was Brittney his answer to being with the one person he actually loved? Bryce dreaded the thought, hating the idea that it wouldn’t really be him that Julie would be with and that he could possibly consider deceiving his friend. With another defeated sigh, he began tapping on the touch screen with his reply.

  Sure. See you in 15 minutes?

  He hit “send” and decided to get dressed. The coffee shop was right by his apartment and just adjacent to the college campus that Julie attende
d. Bryce didn’t want to be far away from his best friend, and Julie was happy to have someone she knew so close by. It worked out for both of them.

  I’ll beat you there, Julie replied, indicated by the popping sound that his phone assigned to receiving texts.

  Bryce strolled into the coffee shop with his hands inside of his jacket pockets. He immediately spotted Julie sitting in their usual booth, waving to him. Her eyes were decorated with dark bags and she looked like she had just gotten off of a week-long bender. He knew a hangover when he saw one.

  Sliding into the booth, Bryce stared across the table at his best friend, who sat there nursing the huge cup of black coffee in her hands like it was her own child. Her short black hair was a mess, despite the effort she put into making it at least half-way presentable, and her clothes were rumpled and gave Bryce the impression that she’d slept in them the night before.

  “You look like shit,” Bryce said, putting elbow on the table and resting his chin in the palm of his hand. He watched her rear her head up slowly to look at him, her eyes narrowing in a mock show of anger.

  “Is that any way to talk to a lady, Bryce?” she asked, doing her best to give a posh flourish to with word “lady.”

  “When you act lady-like, I’ll let you know. So, what, did you get hammered again?” he asked before ordering a café-con-leche from the waitress as she made her rounds through the tables.

  “I don’t know how you drink that Cuban crap,” Julie said, shaking her head in disgust. “And even if I did get wasted last night, you’re my bestie and are obligated to help me feel better. Plus you don’t look too good yourself. Did you even sleep at all last night?”

  Bryce frowned and sighed, rubbing his face before looking at Julie again.

  “I’ve been…” He paused, trying to think of something to say other than, I’m turning into a horny girl on the full moon, want to fuck me? “I’ve been having nightmares.”

  “Jesus, are they that bad?” Julie asked, taking a long, loud sip of her coffee.

  “Yeah. They’re pretty… vivid.”

  “So what happens in them? Are you being chased by some guy with a dildo with your name on it?” Julie always tried to make light of his problems in an attempt to feel better. Usually it worked, but today it only made him feel worse. Julie, obviously picking up on her error, frowned. “You know what? We’re not going to talk about it. Change of topic. Your choice, B.”

  B. She only called him that when she was worried.

  “If I was a girl,” Bryce began tentatively, “would you be with me?”

  “Funny choice of topic, but ugh, if only,” Julie said with an exasperated sigh. “You’d make the best girlfriend ever, dude. You have no drama in your life. Shit, if you had a pussy, I’d probably take you home right now and declare my everlasting love.”

  She was clearly trying to be funny, but that only made Bryce’s situation that much more complicated. Should he subject Julie to the creature he’d become on the next full moon? Should he even tell her at all? Bryce could only give her a half-hearted chuckle that quickly faded as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

  Bryce turned around, taking a deep breath through his nose as he felt the wereslut inside of him practically bristle. His eyes locked immediately on a man walking into the coffee shop, tall and skinny with fiery red hair.

  That hair, he thought as he felt Brittney growl inside of him. The pieces fit together in his mind almost immediately. That’s the slut that bit me! Bryce watched him, his eyes narrowing as his chest filled with a white hot anger. That’s the bastard who ruined my life!

  Bryce stood up as he watched the man leave with his coffee, casting a glance and a smirk in Bryce’s direction before walking out. He followed after the redhead, turning back to Julie to let her know he’d only be a minute.

  “I just need to talk to this guy a second. He…” He tried to think of a good excuse. “He owes me money.”

  As Bryce followed him out of the shop, he called out to the man, his anger only rising the closer the two of them came together.

  “Something wrong, mate?” the man said in a more masculine accent than he remembered before.

  “You know damn well what’s wrong, you dick!” Bryce said, almost raising his voice to a scream before lowering it to a hissing whisper. “You turned me into some kind of—freak.”

  “You’re a wereslut, love,” the man said with a half-apologetic smile. “And I’m real sorry ‘bout that, y’know. I can’t really help myself when then moon’s full. Neither can you, I’d wager. I’m a whole different person when I’m Tiffany.”

  “Tiffany.” Bryce said with a frown. Great, so they all name themselves. “And what’s your actual name?”

  “Thom,” the ginger said with another smirk. “And you’re Bryce, if I remember right. Nice to finally meet you. Though we’re a bit better acquainted than you’d probably like.”

  Thom practically giggled at his own wit, something that only made Bryce want to punch him even more.

  “You have to help me fix it!” Bryce gritted, clenching his fists tight. He couldn’t fight him, not out in the open like this.

  “What’s the fix, mate? I think it’s pretty grand, to be honest,” Thom said, but continued with a sigh as he saw Bryce’s anger only getting worse. “And even if I wanted to help, love, there’s no cure—not that I know about, anyway. You’re stuck, just like me.”

  Bryce stared at Thom for a moment, his mouth open at the injustice of it all. How could this asshole be so okay with ruining people’s lives like that? Bryce was just about to punch the smug look off of Thom’s face when the Brit finally put his hands up.

  “Look, mate. If you’re stuck like this, then I say make the most of it.” He glanced over Bryce’s shoulder into the coffee shop where Julie was still sitting, watching the two of them argue. “That sweet little tart in there your girlfriend?”

  Bryce’s entire body tightened. “She’s just my friend.”

  Thom smiled. “Won’t fuck you, eh?” He gave a smug chuckle. “She does strike me as the muff-munching type. Well, princess, how about you take your new slut-body out for a spin and see how your friend over there likes it? You can even tell her all about it, if you like. She might even be into it.”

  Bryce looked away and Thom let out a harsh laugh.

  “You’ve already been thinking about it! Poor sod! Just go for it, mate.” The redhead smiled as he watched Bryce agonize over the decision before turning to leave. Mockingly, he called back to him, “Best to fuck her before someone else does.”

  Bryce didn’t move to stop him. Instead he watched him leave with a mixture of defeat and anger simmering in his chest. What was the point of fighting him if there was no cure? It wouldn’t change the situation he was in.

  Bryce returned to the booth and Julie stood up, throwing a few bucks on the table as a tip for their waitress.

  “You okay, B?” she asked, immediately drawing him into a tight hug.

  “Yeah. I’m fine, I guess,” Bryce lied, returning the hug. He wondered how Julie would like the feeling of Brittney’s soft tits pressed against her own.

  “I’ve got to get to class. Walk me there?” she asked, looking up into his eyes with her own big, blue orbs.

  “Sure,” he said with a faint smile.

  The two of them walked down the road toward the main portion of the campus, Bryce pulling his jacket close for warmth and comfort against his own turbulent emotions. Could he really bring himself to trick his best friend into fucking the woman he’d become on the next full moon?

  “You’d really take me if I was a girl?” Bryce asked, trying to sound light-hearted about the question.

  “You’re really hung up on this, aren’t you?” Julie asked, though she smiled when she said it. Bryce got the impression she knew how he really felt about her, but that she was too fond of him to let him down hard. “’Course I would. What’d be better than fucking your best friend?” she laughed.

 
; Bryce tried to smile. He could only manage a sigh, but deep inside him he could feel Brittney practically dripping at the thought of being set loose on Julie. That eagerness only made him feel worse.

  He walked with her all the way to the building her class was being held in and gave her another tight hug.

  “I’m sorry about walking out like that in the café. I shouldn’t have left you in there like that,” he said as the two of them stood in front of the building’s steps.

  “All is forgiven,” she said in a mock-saintly tone. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. I just hope that dude coughs up the dough he owes you.”

  “Me too,” Bryce said, only just now remembering the lie he’d told. “I’ll see you later. Try not to fall asleep in class.”

  “Don’t count on it,” Julie laughed as she disappeared through the doors.

 

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