Night Creatures: Book 1

by Ebony Brightman

  NIGHT CREATURES

  Book 1

  A Novella

  By

  Ebony Brightman

  A NOTE ON CONSENT

  While this story is meant to titillate, it is simply that—a story. It’s a fantasy.

  In real life, it’s never okay to touch another person in a sexual manner without their consent. If you do, you just might find yourself the villain, rather than the hero.

  COPYRIGHT

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the writer’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Night Creatures

  Copyright © 2018 by Ebony Brightman

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  No part of this work maybe used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical without prior permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Cover Illustration by Marta Nael

  Cover Design by Jay Aheer

  Copy Editing by Troy Wilderson

  Table of Contents

  TITLE PAGE

  A NOTE ON CONSENT

  COPYRIGHT

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  EPILOGUE

  A NOTE TO THE READERS

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  COMING SOON

  Night CreatureS Playlist

  CHAPTER 1

  Nisa had always known it was Shane’s preferred method—bending her over whatever was available and going at her from behind. Usually it was the bathroom sink. He’d once told her he liked to watch her boobs slapping together in the mirror. But the kitchen counter, an armchair, the desk in his office . . . Nisa knew any of those places would do. He’d come in the house and start pulling her panties down without so much as a “Hello.” She’d have been chopping vegetables and the next thing she knew he’d be pumping into her. In the beginning, she’d thought it was sexy and fun. Now it was two minutes of thrusting and then, “What’s for dinner?”

  Tonight he was in an even bigger hurry. Nisa had been in the middle of brushing her teeth when he’d nudged her legs apart. He hadn’t even watched her tits this time. Just rode her while toothpaste foamed around her mouth. He’d smacked her ass as he came, then tossed her a washcloth for cleanup. She’d spat out the excess paste and finished brushing her teeth.

  Now she was standing in the bedroom they were staying in for the weekend, deciding if her belly was looking bigger. Her thighs were definitely bigger too. Pilates could only do so much. She gave her breasts a squeeze, lifting them up by the nipples, then letting them bounce back down again. Shane had called them “banana boobs.” He’d said they sloped like “fat ski jumps,” and then buried his face in them with groans of appreciation. It’d been their third date. He didn’t really say things like that anymore. Nisa had been a bigger girl when they’d married. A curvy girl. She knew these days he was less enthusiastic about it.

  Nisa called out over the buzz of Shane’s shaver, “Which one do you think?” She waited but the buzzing continued. “Hey,” she walked over to the bathroom door, “which one?”

  Shane was leaning into the mirror, getting those last few hairs under his chin. A butterfly stirred in Nisa’s tummy. Between them, Shane was the better-looking one. Even at forty-two his hair was chestnut and thick, and he sported toned abs. Nisa had a head full of thick hair too, but she was thirty-eight, and half African-American, half Filipino, so it was expected. Shane put down his shaver and wiped his face with a towel.

  “Which one what?” He dug around his travel kit for the nose hair trimmer.

  Nisa stepped onto the slate expecting it to be cold on her feet, but instead it was cozy. There must be a tile warmer underneath. Shane hated for his feet to be cold. Maybe she could have one installed in their bathroom at home. She kissed his shoulder, letting her nipples graze his back.

  “Which dress?”

  Shane leaned farther over the sink. “Whichever.” Clip, clip. “Just get your ass in gear. We’re late.” Clip.

  Nisa blinked and stepped back. “I just need to put on my dress.”

  “Well, do it.” He was brushing his eyebrows now. “Then clear out of my way.”

  Nisa’s feet slapped against the bedroom floor from the door of the bathroom to the door of the closet. Her hand hovered over the black dress, but ultimately it was the green one she pulled from the hanger and tossed on the bed. Her strapless bra was two foam mini-mountains. She huffed as she smoothed the cups to her breasts and reached back to fasten the clasp. Boobs this size meant multiple hooks, so getting into any bra could be a struggle. A bra with no straps made it all the trickier.

  Not as tricky as wrestling into Spanx though. That was a different kind of acrobatics.

  Shane was humming to himself, combing his hair into a perfect coif. Then he pulled down the front of his briefs and used his electric shaver to quickly buzz his pubes. Nisa’s chest tightened as he snapped the waistband back into place, then on the outside of his briefs, gave his cock a squeeze. She quickly turned away, dropping her Spanx to the floor and brushing them aside with her foot.

  She leaned over to grab her dress instead. It was strapless and made of green Indian silk. The saleslady had called the shade Kyobo, and Nisa had agreed when she’d said the shade complemented Nisa’s amber skin and deep, chocolate eyes. Nisa wriggled into it, pulling it up until it sat just below her armpits. It cinched at the waist, giving the top part of the dress a blousy effect as the bottom cascaded down to the floor. It had a peekaboo slit up the side so that when she walked the overlapping material would waft away, revealing just the right amount of leg.

  “Nisa. Move.” Shane twisted her out of the way so he could get to his suit. Nisa moved to the bench at the end of the bed, sitting down to strap on a pair of gold heels, then crossed to the dresser to find her earrings. She chose the ones that looked like leaves dipped in gold. She’d already pulled her hair into an elegant topknot. The earrings would help her neck appear elongated and draw attention to her collarbones. She put her wedding band on too.

  Shane buttoned his shirt and slipped into his jacket as Nisa applied a nude gloss to her lips. She turned to present herself, but it was her cheeks that flushed. Shane always looked so handsome without even trying. Tonight was no exception. His suit was navy and perfectly tailored, while his red and blue gingham shirt gave him a casual flair. It warmed up the fair tone of his skin and brightened his hazel eyes.

  “Alright,” he said, “let’s do this.”

  Nisa stepped forward as Shane held out his hand, and fell in line behind him as he tugged her toward the hallway.

  CHAPTER 2

  Laughter drifted up to greet Nisa and Shane as they descended the stairs. They’d been in a rush when they’d first arrived, but now Nisa was getting a good look at the house’s modern, mid-century design. She and Shane had a nice, comfortable home but this was truly a mansion. It was all the more enchanting being hidden in Mill Valley’s towering redwood forest. Stylish guests chatted and mingled, filling every bit of open space as servers circled with bite-sized del
icacies and glasses of champagne. It felt as though they’d stepped into the pages of Vanity Fair, but Nisa knew better. They could just as easily have stepped into the lion’s den.

  Shane rested his hand at the small of Nisa’s back as they snaked their way through the gathering. Even through her dress she could feel the coolness of his fingers inching toward her bottom. He gave friendly nods to people in the crowd as he leaned in to murmur in her ear.

  “Your ass is wobbling. Where’s that shaper thing?”

  Nisa tried to sound dismissive. “On the floor. Where I left it.”

  Shane’s jaw twitched, preparing to say something hateful.

  “Shane Lennox! As I live and breathe!”

  Shane’s toothy grin snapped reflexively into place as a voice boomed at them from across the room. “Benny Larson!” he boomed back.

  Benny was Shane’s literary agent. One of those barrel-chested, bro kind of guys—loved by men, just charming enough to not be totally disdained by women. He was tall and Nordic looking, his black suit and shirt setting off his dirty blond hair and icy blue eyes. When his personality wasn’t getting in the way he could be handsome. But in Nisa’s view, his personality was always getting in the way.

  The crowd parted as Benny sauntered over, ice cubes clinking against the highball glass in his hand. He and Shane went in for backslaps and a manly hug.

  “Glad you finally showed up.”

  “Oh, man. Traffic from SFO was an unbelievable bitch.”

  Benny then turned to Nisa. Nisa let an obligatory smile stretch her lips.

  “You sure it was the traffic?” He shooed Shane aside and zeroed in. “Hey, gorgeous. You’re looking lovely as ever.”

  Nisa wasn’t sure when it began, but at some point Benny’s “hello” kisses had started landing on her lips. It seemed tonight would be no different. He slid his free hand around Nisa’s waist, and she leaned in to give him a swift peck. She’d learned the hard way that this small gesture could save her from either a kiss that lingered, or depending on how late it was in the evening his whiskey-laced tongue. Benny was a talented agent, so at Shane’s behest she never made a scene by squirming out of his grasp or punching him in the dick. But that didn’t mean she stopped dreading his brand of greeting.

  “Benny,” a smooth, throaty voice interrupted, “introduce me to your friends.” Both Benny and Shane turned as a willowy blonde wound a slender arm around Benny’s neck. She was wearing a shimmering silver dress—the kind that loosely clings in all the right places and ends in a wide band just below the hips. She blasted Shane with a kittenish smile.

  “Hey, baby.” Benny on the other hand, was the cat that got the cream. “This is Shane Lennox and his wife, Nisa. Guys, this is Shelby Hall.”

  Shelby had blunt cut bangs and an asymmetrical bob, which fanned to the side as she cocked her head. She held out a manicured hand. “So nice to finally meet you. Benny let me take a peek at your script. It’s wonderful.”

  Shane’s eyes sparkled as he grasped Shelby’s outstretched hand. It wasn’t a real handshake, but rather the kind where the knuckles faced upward instead of to the side. Again something twinged in Nisa’s chest as Shane bent over and gave Shelby’s hand a soft kiss. “Kind words. Are you also a writer?”

  “I’m an actress.” Shelby smiled a little wider. “But all creativity piques my interest.”

  “Mine too. We should never limit ourselves.”

  “Okay, enough of that.” Benny palmed Shelby’s behind, shifting her out of Shane’s reach. “We should be looking for our gracious hosts. Do we have a script to sell or do we not?”

  “That we do, Benny. That we do.” Shane flashed that grin again. “Where are The Filthy Riches by the way?”

  “Last I saw, they were thataway.” Benny pointed with his highball hand, sloshing liquid. “Let’s go lighten their ridiculous monetary load.”

  Shane gave Benny a two-finger salute. They were in predator mode now, on the prowl to make a deal. Benny took Shelby’s hand and flowed into the crowd. Shane never looked back, just followed in their wake. Soon all three of them had disappeared. Nisa was on her own—probably for the rest of the night.

  Nisa looked around. She could see Nancy Whitaker from Paramount near the fireplace, and she was pretty sure she’d heard Bob Yost’s hyena laugh. They’d kept her company at the Sony Christmas gala, so there were at least a few people here she knew. First champagne though. The bubbles would take her awkwardness away. Then she’d mingle.

  “The Filthy Riches” were Willa and Callum Shaw. Nisa had met both of them a handful of times in L.A. They were the quintessential power couple. They’d met in their thirties and within ten years had become the kind of Hollywood powerhouse Nisa had hoped Shane would someday be. Penelope in the Dark was probably their most well known film to date, but most people knew their other successes too, like Lake River Sea, The Alien North, and Principle of Thieves.

  They would invite Hollywood up-and-comers to their Mill Valley estate two or three times a year, but this was the first one Shane and Nisa had been asked to attend, so she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. This was a big weekend for Shane. His reputation as a screenwriter was already strong, but having Willa and Callum buy his script would really put his name on the map. It would establish Benny as a mover and shaker as well. To Willa and Callum he’d look like a man with an eye for talent, and to Shane he’d look like an aggressive and savvy agent.

  Willa and Callum were a spirited couple—shrewd but fun-loving. And, judging by both the party’s lavishness and Shane and Nisa’s room, generous and welcoming. Nisa had always really liked them but had never felt quite comfortable in their presence. Willa in particular was adept at seeing through bullshit. Nisa was always nervous that Willa would pick up on something that Nisa didn’t want her to see.

  “You look like you could use one of these.”

  Speak of the devil . . . Nisa turned to see Willa herself holding out a glass of champagne. She was elegant and full of brawn. And, if Nisa had to guess, she’d say Willa had a fair amount of Eastern European in her blood. The high neck of her black dress made her hair look like a halo of wild silver waves. Willa was probably in her sixties and a redhead once, but the youthful way she carried herself made it hard to pinpoint her age. Usually people would see a woman like Willa and say, “I bet she used to be a beauty,” but in her case she still very much was. She also could probably ax down a tree.

  Nisa smiled as she took the glass and the two women kissed one another on the cheeks. “It’s so good to see you, Willa. I can’t thank you enough for having us up this weekend. This house is . . . amazing.”

  Willa swished her hand as if waving the compliment away. “Only half as stunning as you, dear.” She clinked her glass against Nisa’s and they sipped. “Why are you standing here all by yourself?”

  “Umm, just warming up to the crowd. I would have thought Shane and Benny had you holed up in a corner by now.”

  “They tried.” Willa’s eyes crinkled around the edges as she took another sip. “I left them and their little actress friend with Callum. They were breaking into a very expensive bottle of scotch.”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “It gave me a chance to come and say hello to you. What is it you do again?”

  “I . . . stay home. Take care of the house, take care of Shane.”

  Nisa took a swig, fidgety under Willa’s keen gaze.

  “Years ago Benny sent me a few of Shane’s scripts. They were nothing like they are now. They were funny enough, but not exactly smart. Not the kind of smart that we like to produce anyway. Seems his style has changed. The wit is still there, but now there’s depth. Callum says this latest one is truly quite good.”

  “Well, he’s really focused on fleshing out the dimension of the characters. I think in his early work he saw them as devices for the humor. Now it’s about seeing them as complicated human beings.”

  “Yes.” Willa’s eyes were dark, nearly black, but t
hey still shined. “That’s what I thought.”

  Nisa drained her glass.

  It was only a second or two before one of the waiters showed up with more champagne flutes. He whispered in Willa’s ear, who sighed as the waiter walked away. “You’ll have to excuse me, dear. My nephew has finally arrived. The man’s personal motto should be ‘better late, sometimes never.’”

  “Please. Don’t let me hold you.”

  Willa took Nisa’s free hand and gave it a squeeze. “You’re an interesting woman, Nisa.”

  “Sweet of you,” Nisa blushed, “but you’re one of the few people who thinks so.”

  “I very much doubt that,” Willa laughed, then turned and walked away.

  A few hours later, Nisa found herself on the veranda. The house was three stories. While Shane and Nisa’s room was on the third floor, the main entrance was on the second. The first floor of the house was sunken into the hillside and in the back, opened up onto an impressive patio. Beyond the patio the backyard was split into three tiers. Each level was a large plateau cut into the gradient of the hill, and connecting those plateaus were steep slopes that ended in three-and-a-half-foot retaining walls. Inlaid stone steps and paths branched out to the tennis court, stables and cabanas. Clusters of lawn furniture, positioned for socializing, decorated each tier of the yard. The veranda ran along the backside of the house on the second level, and from there Nisa could see the entirety of the lawn.

  She tilted her head back, taking in the cool night air. Between the high-heels and six glasses of champagne, she wasn’t feeling very steady on her feet. But she brought the seventh glass to her lips anyway.

  The bubbles sizzled in her mouth. She’d done her due diligence for the night. She’d mingled, kissed people on both cheeks, and smiled as they reminded her that Shane was a brilliant writer. And like a good wife, she’d never breathed a bitter word. She never let it slip that the first draft of every script he’d written since they’d started dating was always hers, and sometimes the second and third draft too. Or that Shane had run out of new ideas. She never told anyone because she loved him. They had been together for a long time and she loved him with every fiber of her being.