Red

by Tracey H. Kitts

  "Oh, yes."

  "Then why can you walk and I can't?"

  "Because I didn't have two orgasms."

  "Three."

  He laughed that sexy, evil laugh again as he responded, “Never underestimate what a good pair of shoes can do for you."

  "I don't have any shoes that can do that.” I yawned.

  When I thought about it, I realized I'd never even had any boyfriends that could do that. I laughed to myself at the thoughts of telling Bradley that he had never satisfied me. I was no stranger to multiple orgasms, but nothing I had ever experienced compared to what had just happened with Marco.

  "What's so funny?"

  "I was just thinking about this jerk I dated a while back. I'd love to tell that stupid son of a bitch that he never satisfied me."

  Marco laughed, “Really? I almost feel sorry for the guy."

  "Don't. Miserable assholes like him don't deserve your pity."

  "Ouch. You vicious thing,” he teased.

  "I'm not that bad. I just think he ought to know he's not half as good as he thinks he is."

  "Red?"

  "Hmm?"

  "You're rambling. Go to sleep."

  Marco kissed the top of my head and as if by command, that's exactly what I did.

  * * * *

  When I woke up several hours later, Marco was sprawled flat of his back and I was stretched out on top of him. This was my first opportunity to watch Marco sleep and I took advantage of it. His long, dark lashes fluttered slightly as if he were dreaming. My body rose and fell with his breathing as I traced every contour of his face with my eyes. I didn't know what tomorrow might bring, but he was right. I shouldn't spend today worrying about it.

  Part of my brain kept trying to remind me of Alfred, but Alfred had no place here. Yes, I loved him, but I couldn't bring myself to feel guilty for what had happened with Marco the night before. Nothing was set in stone between Alfred and me and I had wanted Marco since the first moment I'd laid eyes on him. There was so much I wanted to do to him that I had not done. So many roads that I could have taken last night. I think we both knew that we'd chosen the lesser of an abundance of evils. I was still unsure of my feelings for Marco, but I knew then that I definitely had them.

  I rubbed my face across the soft hair on his chest and sighed contentedly. In that moment, there was nothing else. As Marco had suggested, I simply let myself be with him. My mind stopped wandering and my restless heart found a steady rhythm.

  "Good morning, Red."

  Marco's voice was rougher than usual when he first woke up and I found it even sexier than before.

  "Good morning,” I purred, sliding further up his body so that I could reach his neck.

  My favorite spot was just beneath his earlobe and I snuggled there for a minute. I took a deep breath and started to drift off again.

  "What's the matter, don't you want to know what time it is?"

  "Shh."

  "Well.” He laughed. “The nerve."

  I wrapped my right arm around his neck as I snuggled my face against his throat.

  "Shut up, Marco. Don't ruin a perfectly good moment."

  He laughed and rolled me over so that I was underneath him.

  "You little bitch.” He laid his head against my shoulder, nearly covering me with his body as he put one arm across me. “I guess that's how it goes. You satisfy a woman once and she thinks she can order you around. No wait ... you treated me that way before."

  "Get over yourself."

  "I get the distinct impression that you're trying to shut me up.” I could hear the laughter in his voice.

  "You're very perceptive."

  He lifted up and made a pitiful face. “Why don't you want to talk to me, Red?"

  I shoved his head playfully back down as I answered, “Because the more you talk to me the more I have to think and the more I think, the closer I am to being awake."

  "What are you doing now? Sleep talking?"

  I growled and snatched a few of his chest hairs.

  He yelped. “Hey, that's going below the belt."

  "Marco, don't make me think about what's below your belt."

  "Too late. I know that expression, Red. You've got your mind in my pants again."

  "Damn you."

  "You want to take a shower with me?"

  I just looked at him.

  "I'm kidding. I won't attack you. I know you didn't agree to stay just to get your hands on me. You said you wanted to know me and I was serious when I invited you to stay to do that."

  As he slid to a sitting position, I noticed the wicked nail marks down both of his shoulders.

  "Oh my, God.” I reached out to touch one of the vicious marks.

  "It's not as bad as it looks.” He smiled. “Besides, I enjoyed it."

  "You enjoyed being torn up like this?"

  He just laughed as I continued to stare at the marks.

  "I can't believe I did this. I've never clawed anyone up like this before. Marco, I'm sorry."

  "Don't be.” He winked at me as he said, “You're an animal, Red. You just needed someone to bring it out of you."

  "Does it hurt?"

  "I've had worse.” He smiled as he slid off the bed.

  I waited until I heard him get in the shower before going in the bathroom.

  "What am I going to wear?” I asked.

  "What's the matter? You don't like my pjs?"

  I laughed as I remembered I had a spare outfit in the trunk. I carried a pair of old torn jeans and a black baby doll style t-shirt with me just in case.

  "I don't have a problem with your pjs, Marco. But if anyone else is going to see me, I've got some jeans in the trunk of my car."

  "Would you mind getting me a towel?"

  I walked over to the built in linen cabinet and selected a fluffy black towel. Marco turned off the water and asked, “Well, aren't you going to hand it to me?"

  I stepped in the door and stretched my hand in one direction and my head in another.

  He laughed. “What's the matter, Red? You act like you haven't seen it before."

  "I haven't."

  "Come again?"

  "Don't say things like that to me, Marco."

  "I would have thought you got a good look last night,” he teased.

  "Well, I didn't. By the time you took your pants off I was too exhausted to open my eyes."

  "Well, you can look now, I'm decent."

  The long black towel that would have covered me completely hung to just below Marco's knees. One muscular thigh peeked from beneath the towel when he moved toward me. He had secured the cloth just below the chiseled curve of his hip that I had developed a fascination with.

  "You're covered anyway,” I said with a sarcastic smile.

  Marco stepped toward me and wrapped one arm around my waist, resting his hand in the small of my back. He was warm and wet from the shower and I wanted to lick the beads of water from his skin. He kissed me softly. His lips were warm and soft, and wet. I sucked the moisture from his lower lip and shuddered when a low growl escaped his throat. I deepened the kiss and pulled him down to me.

  Marco placed his hands underneath my butt and lifted me. I wrapped my legs around him and he pressed me against the tile. I was still wearing Marco's robe and it parted along with my thighs.

  Only the soft black towel stood between us, and that was slipping.

  "We've got to stop meeting like this,” I panted as I ran my fingers through his wet hair.

  "Don't worry. I'll be busy most of the week."

  "Good, because I can't keep my hands off you."

  I squeezed him more tightly between my thighs and ran one hand down the hot wet skin of his back. I was on the verge of snatching the towel loose when the phone rang. Until then, I hadn't even been aware that Marco had a phone.

  "That's probably Luther,” he said, nuzzling against my throat.

  "What's he want?"

  Marco lowered me to the floor slowly with one hand car
efully holding the towel in place.

  "Breakfast, I expect."

  "He's coming for breakfast?"

  "He's already here.” Marco was on his way to the phone even though it had stopped ringing.

  "What do you mean he's already here?"

  "He lives on the second floor."

  Marco walked to the bedside table nearest the bathroom, picked up the phone and called Luther. After a brief conversation that I couldn't hear all of, he glanced back over his shoulder at me and told Luther, “Give us ten minutes."

  We got dressed in silence. I put on another pair of Marco's pajamas. This time they were black. Like before, I had to roll the top of the pants down and the legs up to keep from tripping and the shirt fit me more like a robe. I left most of the bottom buttons open to once again reveal the unscarred portion of my lower abdomen. It was then that I realized that I'd never been self conscious about my scars around Marco. I guess I just didn't see the point in being afraid of looking monstrous to a man that until recently I'd thought was a monster. If anyone would understand what it felt like to be afraid of looking different, it was Marco.

  He put on a white sleeveless undershirt that stretched nicely over his curves. I watched as he turned his back to me and dropped the towel. Unfortunately from where I stood, my view was blocked by the bed. I didn't want to run to see his naked ass, so by the time I walked around the bed, he was zipping his jeans and looking for a belt. Oh well, the more I saw, the more I'd want to touch. Some of my disappointment must have shown on my face.

  "What's wrong, Red?"

  "Huh?"

  Marco's knowing smile made me blush so hard it burned.

  "You should have looked when you had the chance."

  My gaze traveled up and down his body. I didn't bother to be polite. I let myself take in with my eyes all the places that my hands didn't need to go. Even in faded jeans and an undershirt Marco was still one of the sexiest men I'd ever seen. The shirt left his muscular arms bare, revealing not only what great shape he was in, but the claw marks I'd left down his arms. Where the shirt dipped in the front around the neck I could see his collar bone as well as a distinctive bite mark.

  I stepped forward to admire my handiwork and began to ruffle his hair. Marco leaned forward and let me have my way with his shaggy mane. He normally kept his dark hair cut close and neat, but he'd been busy lately and a werewolf's hair grows fast. It wasn't long or to the point of being unkempt, just enough to get a nice handful.

  I scratched behind his ear and he growled.

  "Did I hit the spot?” I laughed.

  He growled again before snapping at my hand playfully and saying, “Luther will be here any minute."

  I watched as he opened the door and began to pad barefoot across the open loft to the kitchen. Those faded jeans clung to every curve of his long muscular legs like a second skin. The situation seemed more intimate somehow with his feet being bare. To go without shoes in someone else's presence suggested a level of comfort that normally took a while to develop, at least for me.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Eighteen

  When I saw the top of Luther's blond head emerging from the staircase I said, “I thought no one knew how to get up here."

  Luther smiled. “He just told me this morning."

  Marco motioned for us to have a seat at the large table near the back of the kitchen.

  "What do you feel like?” Marco asked as he opened the refrigerator.

  "Bacon,” Luther said instantly.

  Marco looked to me and I answered, “Fruit."

  They both gave me a questioning look.

  "I don't often feel like meat this early in the day,” I explained.

  Marco bit his lip to keep from laughing and Luther seemed to have just noticed the many claw marks on Marco's body. Truthfully, I hadn't realized what damage I'd done until I saw him standing there in the early morning sun. The marks would likely be healed by the next day, but until then he would wear them. As I looked at Marco standing there in the kitchen, I couldn't help but admire what a piece of work he was.

  His natural tan seemed to stand out even more against the white of the undershirt he wore. The way his hair was tossed about so carelessly made him look wild. I reminded myself that morning that I was looking at a gentle version of what could potentially become a beast. But what I saw that day was definitely the beauty. It turned me on to see the marks I'd left on his skin, but it also made me sad to have marred his perfection. Part of me wanted to finish the job, but the other part just wanted breakfast.

  Before I had much time to elaborate on the fantasy Luther couldn't hold his peace any longer.

  "Did you guys hear anything last night?” He winked at me and I could have strangled him.

  "No,” Marco answered, careful to keep his back turned.

  "Well, from downstairs it sounded like there was a wild animal up here."

  Marco sat a pitcher of juice on the table as he responded with a smile, “Well, I didn't hear anything."

  Luther couldn't seem to control himself any longer, “Then what happened to you?"

  Marco absently rubbed the bite mark near his throat as he responded, “I cut myself shaving.” He raised one eyebrow as if challenging Luther to say otherwise.

  Luther poured himself some juice with a muffled laugh, but he didn't comment further.

  As I went back to watching Marco cook breakfast, I knew what I was hungry for and it wasn't fruit. Luther got down some plates from the cabinets. The way he kept looking at me let me know he had something else to say.

  After breakfast was on the table Marco said, “Will you two excuse me for a minute? I need to make a phone call."

  He left in the direction of the bedroom and had barely closed the door before Luther turned to me. “Damn, Mercury."

  "What Luther? I know you want to say something, so let's have it before I wake up enough to get pissed off."

  "If I'd had any idea what a wildcat you were, I'd have asked you out in high school."

  "And what makes you think I'd have said yes?” I sneered.

  Luther ran his fingers through his long hair dramatically and said, “Because I'm so sexy."

  I laughed so hard I nearly snorted juice up my nose. “It's not like that, Luther."

  "Oh, really?"

  "Yes, really. It's not as bad as it looks."

  "Well, if you can resist Marco, you'd be the first, which I doubt."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  He leaned in conspiratorially. “In case you haven't noticed, he's got ‘em lining up.” At my shocked expression he added, “Not that he'd take advantage, of course."

  Before I could comment Marco returned. “Sam will be here tomorrow."

  "Who's Sam?” I asked.

  "You'll see. I think you'll really like him."

  After breakfast Marco went downstairs with Luther. When I asked where they were going he informed me, “It's business.” I'm sure he would have elaborated if I'd asked, but I didn't. I had no idea what it took to run a club or a pack of werewolves and honestly didn't want to know. I busied myself with yoga and playing video games in Marco's bedroom.

  Sometime in the wee hours of the morning I felt Marco crawl into bed beside me. Instinctively, I snuggled back against his warmth.

  "I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I didn't mean to wake you."

  "It's alright."

  He started telling me how he'd spent the day ordering supplies for the club and handling disputes within the pack.

  "You don't owe me an explanation,” I mumbled sleepily as I rolled toward him.

  "I know."

  Marco pulled me on top of him and I fell asleep.

  * * * *

  It wasn't as difficult to keep my hands off Marco for the rest of the week as I'd expected. In fact I had very little opportunity to touch him at all. When he'd said he would be busy, he wasn't kidding.

  I decided that if he was expecting company, I should put on
some shoes. Since the platform boots I'd worn to the club didn't exactly go with my torn jeans and tight black t-shirt, I decided to go rummage in the trunk of my car for something more suitable and slipped on Marco's shoes to go downstairs.

  I was on the way to my car Tuesday morning to look for shoes when I heard the unmistakable rumble of a Harley Davidson motorcycle behind me. A man dressed all in black pulled up and parked right beside where I'd been clunking along in Marco's slippers. As he stood up and swung one long leg over the bike I could see that he was tall. The man was well built and lean, slender, but not quite thin. When he took off his helmet I saw that he was also handsome.

  He was older, possibly in his fifties, with chin length salt and pepper hair that looked wild even though he attempted to smooth it with his hands. He had a bushy mustache, a kind smile, and dark eyes.

  I was glad that I'd changed into my jeans and t-shirt instead of Marco's pajamas.

  "Good morning.” His voice was deep, pleasant, and warm as whiskey.

  I liked him instantly.

  "You must be Lilith.” He extended his hand.

  "And you must be Sam.” I smiled as I took his hand.

  He had a nice firm handshake, not like some men who seem to be afraid of hurting a woman's hand. I hated wimpy handshakes. They were just another way of saying that a man didn't think of you as an equal. But Sam's firm grip said he had no such hang-ups.

  "Well no wonder Marco's all worked up. I don't reckon I blame him.” He smiled.

  It surprised me to hear that Marco had discussed me with anyone. The fact that he would have mentioned me at all was flattering, but it also let me know how much he trusted Sam.

  "He mentioned me?"

  "More than once.” He winked.

  The motorcycle matched Sam well, but he almost looked like he should have ridden in on a horse. After I got some flip-flops out of my car, we went inside where Marco met us.

  They embraced each other like brothers.

  "You've met?” Marco asked.

  Sam smiled. “Yes, I've had the pleasure."

  They spoke briefly about it having been a long time since they'd last seen each other before Sam asked, “Is there some place I could wash up? I look like I've been rode hard and put up wet."

  "No,” I said, “but maybe you need to be."