Panties, Calamities and Hungry Creatures (Grimstone Island)

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Panties, Calamities and Hungry Creatures (Grimstone Island) Page 2

by Rochelle Pearson


  “I am,” he replies with confidence. I didn’t expect less. Bred to aim high, fly high, Adrian was the type of man to gun for what he wanted, evident by his prolific status, natural instincts his dragon harbored and the fact he successfully tracks me down every time he felt like it.

  The car stops. Out of the window, ParaFitness in view, Piper and Lucas idle near the gym entrance. Piper holds my bag. Lucas, a phone to his ear, looks back and forth down the sidewalk. From my tote, Piper takes out my cell and shoves it in his face. “She left her phone,” her lips mouth.

  I sure did.

  “Kokoa.”

  Attention swerves back to Adrian, expecting an answer.

  A date...Yikes, not something that regularly rears on my ever vacant calendar. But I’ve wanted more time with him. And yet, to call it a date–no, I couldn’t debate this right now.

  Words tumble out instead. “Yes, sure. I’d like that too. Let’s do it–er, I mean dinner. Do dinner.” Or more is fine too. My gut and... lower extremities prickle in tingles. I squeeze my thighs shut.

  Adrian’s hot gaze pierced. “Excellent.” A slow smile spreads. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  “Awesome. Cool.” That was an inadequately lame follow up. Just leave, already, an inner voice says. I scoot to the door and try the handle. But it’s locked.

  Now it was my turn to eye the man. His smile grew.

  “What are you playing at, dragon?”

  “It’s only fair, wolf.”

  “What is?”

  “Given I provided the cinnamon roll.” Eyelids drooped in desire. A low growl rumbles as he licked his lips slow enough to have me entranced. “Humor me.”

  I was on the other side of the limo in under a second.

  His arms snake around my body, squeezing. Hands hungrily explore my ass. While he’s occupied there, I cup his square jaw and lead a scorching kiss. The straddle on his lap went wide, I grind–using the mediocre hip rotating skills ostrich lady directed.

  This pleases the reptile.

  His tongue laps the roof of my mouth. Wave after pleasuring wave gnaws at control. The kiss went on, riding stretched tasty beats. Our fangs graze the other before his blunt teeth pull my bottom lip, suckling roughly till it throbs. Till the rest of me throbs heavily. I become breathless and shiver. He felt amazing underneath me. Too good. Too close. I parted our lips. Space hardly relinquished, though. Nose to nose, we remain open mouthed gasping for air.

  “I count that as our first kiss,” I say still gulping oxygen. The actual first time was a millisecond long on my birthday after which he promptly disappeared.

  “I count everything, darling,” he replies. Internally, I objected. This was also the first correct attempt. I remain upright on his lap.

  Limbs laxing, I hadn’t realized I had an iron grip on his suit lapels. I half-assed smoothed them.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” he says, softly.

  I bob my head. “Um.” I chuckle, reality coming into play. “Tonight then...”

  Adrian bares his top and bottom fangs. Briefly, heat spreads across my butt, resonating from his palms. Once he detached, coolness replaced it. “Tonight.”

  Let the countdown begin.

  The locks clicked.

  “I’m looking forward to it, darling.” Adrian nods slowly, satisfied and... smug?

  I exited feeling a bit weird, airy. Nether regions too breezy. I gave him a wave and, light footed, join Piper and Lucas, both staring questionably at the departing limo.

  “Where the hell did you go? You missed Vogue and jazz hands,” Lucas complained.

  Piper points an accusing finger at my top. Brown cinnamon glaze stained across my right nipple. Crap. She smirks.

  “You’re covered in dragon magic, hun.”

  “About that.” I step forward to receive my belongings. And just then, it hit hard why I suddenly felt odd after leaving the limo.

  “WHAT THE FUCK!” I screeched and cup my butt cheeks. Underneath the thin leggings, the familiar rigid panty lines were missing–I frantically spin in constant circles like a dog chasing its tail–no need for a pun, I’m freaking out here–wide eyeing my lower half, hands searching the front as well.

  “Should we be concerned?” Piper asks. “Not that I entirely care if you want to grab your lady junk in public, go for it by all means, but a hobgoblin by the door is videotaping you.”

  I wasn’t listening. Racing thoughts broadcasted–My panties are gone, my panties are gone, my panties are gone–

  “THAT DAMN DRAGON!” I yell. The hot feeling on my ass experience, and his parting smug look now explained.

  Mentally, next to Don’t Pelvic Thrust with an Ostrich, I shelved–

  Don’t Get Panty Snatched by a Dragon.

  Chapter Two

  I ate pancakes without any underwear on. Yes, this should not come to be a mentally wrecked feeling. I eat occasionally without much clothes on anyways, but in the privacy of my own home.

  Piper, Lucas and I commenced flapjack feeding frenzy at Skully’s–the retro breakfast diner hot spot in Grimstone, where I relayed the limo ride and Adrian’s date proposal.

  I may have also finally revealed how I first attracted the dragon.

  “My friend... you are fucked,” Piper tsked. I open my mouth to argue but then don’t, just nod. Piper Elwood–a wise woman.

  “You know, Kokoa, I think the mortifying shit you do is awesome,” Lucas admits, winking while he pointed his grapefruit juice at me from his relaxed position against Skully’s vinyl booth. “I admire you for having the balls to wake up every morning and show yourself in public. You should have your own sitcom.”

  “No cable network can handle this.” I wave a hand down my body, wiggling my tush.

  “Yeah, I don’t think you yourself can handle all of this.” From across the table, Piper palms my face.

  “But Lucas just said I have balls!” I cry. “People with balls can handle anything. Hence why I’ll dominate this date–er, dinner meeting with Adrian.” I’m pretty sure I sounded convincing.

  Piper went apeshit. “First off, don’t listen to Lucas–since when did we ever?”

  “Hey!” Lucas shoots up, jostling the table. “Y’all listened when I said there was a fucking dead bat in the hot tub!”

  Piper blinks then continues. “No man or woman on this planet should take seriously whatever the hell comes out of mer-boy’s mouth. He’s the one with balls the size of wasabi peas.”

  I slapped a hand over my mouth to hide most of my shock and laughter.

  “Fuck you, Piper!” That earns a glare from the nearby bear mother who closed her giggling cub’s ears. “I was serious about that dead bat. It reeked,” our merman buddy huffed. “And I’ve had enough of you two and your false assumptions. You wanna see my so-called wasabi pea nutsack? Huh? I’ll show you how wrong you are. King Kong got nothing on me, baby.” He plasters himself to Piper’s side, and hurriedly fiddles in his lap.

  “What’s he doing?” I ask.

  Piper, bored, glances down. “Exposing himself.”

  “No, no, no, stop!” I whisper shout, glancing around hoping he wouldn’t get caught and throwing napkins at him. “Piper was wrong. She’s just jealous she doesn’t have your superior massive cojones that can make Kong cry.”

  “See? You take back that rude, inaccurate comment this instant!” Lucas seeths at Piper.

  “Luc, put it away,” she snaps.

  “Ha! Too much for ya?”

  “Oh, it’s perfectly enough to smash my fist in them. And your little pecker too.”

  He grumbles and mumbles stuff I couldn’t hear as he makes himself decent again. There really is a God.

  “Now, we need to get Kokoa prepared for her date.” Piper smiles, sweetly. “Together, we’ll meet before, get her ready, so she can once again humiliate herself in some way or form.”

  This time, I was the one who huffed.

  ***

  As the day goes
on, after we split, I try to occupy endless jittery-night nearing-nerves by doing mundane adult tasks.

  So I had to actually show up for work.

  I had to actually smile and appear sane even though each time The Growling Grill’s doors opened I kept picturing a massive green scaled beast busting in, finding me, licking his chops then saying, “Table for two.”

  An hour in, the day took a nosedive to Shitsville. Minding my business, doing what I needed to do–swiftly taking orders, hopefully making my parents, the owners, proud–the very carefully constructed sane facade broke the second I caught older brother #3 refilling drinks at table seven, get smiled at, then exchange the bill for a tip.

  Table seven was my table.

  Instantly, I turned out my apron pockets. Sure enough, I was short a receipt.

  I must’ve been too cut off, sucked in panty-less thoughts, that the table I served thought I’d checked out, thus becoming prime prey to Devil Motherfucker who relieved their bill right under my nose.

  Devil Motherfucker, also known as twenty-four-year-old, tall, dark haired Devin Lovell.

  I really need to be more aware. Seriously, what happened to the she-wolf’s quick reflexes?

  Internally, she slept. Lazy ass.

  I intercepted Devin in the kitchen. There, the pack, other older and younger brothers collected steamy meat piled trays–although from past altercations that started me slamming the swinging door against the wall in psychotic rage–their furry ears perked at the nearing storm.

  “DEVIN!” The octave level eye-twitchingly high. Really, when was I going to get a break? Oh wait, it’s Monday. The day where getting screwed over is plentiful.

  “Yes?” He smiles, arms crossed next to the multi flavored barbecue sauce dispenser that perched on the stainless steel counter. I step toe to toe with him. My nose came to his mid torso, so yes my tough act lost affect by craning my neck up.

  “You’ve got my tip. Hand it over.”

  “Don’t know what youre talking about.” He sneers.

  “Devin,” Tyler, the eldest brother growls. At his side, the eldest sibling, Bonnie, slash co-manager, taps an annoyed short heeled foot.

  “What’s going on?” she demands with a sigh.

  “He stole my table!” I say.

  “She’s lying and I only have tips that are rightfully mine.” There went that tight lipped smile. Besides Lucas’s scantily clad tights, Devin’s troubling starting expression was an unfortunate visual fixture. Years of bickering, and drop kicking his ass in attempts to wipe that look off, will do that.

  Bonnie slaps the counter. “Empty your apron, Dev. Let’s see.”

  He blanched. “I’m not doing shit! I only refilled a few drinks. I can’t help customers liked me better and give me money for it.”

  “Confession!” I point.

  Bonnie hesitates, sighing. “Well, Kokoa, I can’t do anything if the guest rewarded Devin instead–”

  “But they were my guests! My fucking table!”

  “Language.” Brother #2, Austin, hisses as he steps around me to grab utensils. The twenty-year-old triplets, Josh, Jonas, and James sidle close to me. Despite our three year difference, height meant shit. Everyone I know always seems to tower over me.

  “I’ll give you five bucks to punch Devin in the face,” James says.

  “She will do no such thing!” Devin snarls.

  “He’s right.” Josh consults his clone. “Offer her twenty.”

  I stand there, left eye flickering.

  “You should get that checked out,” Jonas states. “I have cream if you’d like to borrow some.”

  “You don’t put cream on twitching eyes,” Tyler says, frowning.

  “Yeah, especially not your hemorrhoid cream.” Austin chuckles.

  “It was a joke and I told you about my... issues... in confidence.” Jonas growls at Austin. James pats his brother’s shoulder. In a low voice he says, “It’s happening again? Ma told you not to push so hard.”

  “Ugh, I don’t have time for this.” Bonnie shakes her head raking fingers through her blonde bob. “I never should’ve told Ma I didn’t need those vacation days. So stupid–”

  “Bonnie!” I press. I know I was acting a bit much, hell, the tip couldn’t have been more than ten bucks. But stubbornness refused to lose against Devil Motherfucker. Plus money is money and the more on retainer, the more cheap tacos I could buy and gorge on.

  And of course use for necessary responsible purchases...

  “Sorry, Kokoa. Perform better and maybe it won’t happen again.” Her finals words smarted before she strode away.

  Perform better? This was Lucas saying don’t be a slacker in class all over again.

  Okay first of all, from a mature angle I needn’t take the advice.

  However, didn’t these people know who the hell I am? I practically invented the term: half-assed. Half-assing rang fun bells, but at the moment, persistently dinging irritation came. It became louder when Devin’s grin widened after Bonnie’s rightful chastisement–I’m big enough to admit that.

  “I guess that’s that.” Rubbing his hands together, Devin’s head cocked, pitying me. “This has been fun. Honestly, kinda a waste of time.” He shrugs, then delivers a last pinch. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go make sure... certain... tables have everything they need. Later squirt.”

  He didn’t get far.

  Maybe, if I counted to ten, drank some refreshing water, cleared my mind, I would’ve followed through on being the bigger person and let it go.

  I woke the she-wolf instead.

  A white fur-covered muzzle protruded through my perked nose and cherry gloss stained lips, normal jaws extended, snapping long teeth and fangs. The wolf saw red pulsing vessels and her target.

  Devin’s screams rang loud like those fun bells I mentioned as I latched on to his collar, jerked him to the left then hard to the right, slamming him into the barbecue sauce spewer–which did its job tenfold from being busted open all over Devin’s face. The rest of me shifted. Clothes ripped to shreds. I brought Devin to the ground. He was too shocked by the quick, vicious assault that he hadn’t himself transformed. Oh, and I mean a vicious assault. You know those cute kinda scary videos of little Chihuahuas tearing apart Mr. Squeakers, the poor stuffed froggie, littering its cotton inners all over the floor?

  That’s me. The deranged Chihuahua, I mean.

  Devin’s clothes, the now Mr. Squeakers, took the brunt but I made sure to get a few good chomps in.

  “GET HER OFF MEEEEEE!”

  Above, shouts rained down. Hands tried to separate us. I heard Pops, after storming in, bellow about damning himself for not getting a vasectomy twenty-five years ago. Uncle Liam arrived. He didn’t say or do anything. I knew he came since a random banjo started playing. Things escalated when Devin finally shifted into his dark brown counterpart. Bad timing, I still regained advantage, because Tyler and Austin had had a hold on his upper body. Not so much on me. I took the cheap shot and bit his fuzzy forehead, ripping out clumps of canine hide.

  Someone latched on to my tail right then. I was dragged immediately away. The familiar touch and scent of sweet apples, made the she-wolf whine and go obediently limp.

  Belly sliding on the floor through the kitchen, remaining in a tight grasp, I was soon dumped in the restaurant’s office.

  Wolfy eyes ascended slowly, heart racing, ears flattened. Pudgy ankles came into view first, taking in khaki Capri-covered calves, a plump waist, a floral blouse covering an ample bosom–then a familiar face surrounded amidst big, teased curls and an etched disappointed expression that became the highlight in my childhood ever since I could talk.

  Ma.

  Her red lips separated.

  “KOKOA TAMMY LOVELL!”

  I winced. Damn.

  Chapter Three

  Thirty minutes later, after a very, very thorough ass chewing, I dressed in spare clothes Ma had stored in the office for these type of incidents. Then she prompt
ly demanded to know why there wasn’t a pair of undies among my torn clothes. I deflected, then was stuffed into the passenger seat to the family van parked out back. An angry mother, Kimbella Lovell, the once sweet Ma (on a good Monday-less day), glared from behind the half opened window.

  “Ma! Please, don’t do this!” I say.

  “Enough, Kokoa! You’re an insubordinate daughter and you need to learn that mauling your brother and nearly killing the sauce dispenser is wrong!” she says. “Here, take this.” She passes a paper. On inspection, it was the errand list she’d mentioned while burning my ear off with disowning threats. Double damn.

  The punishment: leave the premises and do the errands.

  The driver side door wrenched open and slammed closed. In the seat, Devin grumbled.

  Part two of the punishment: complete the list with Devil Motherfucker.

  What parental god created the idea to lump feuding siblings together in hopes shit would work out? Seriously, who? All I want is their home address...

  “Ma, this is horrible!”

  “Seconded,” Devin says. “I’d rather be stranded in the human’s state of New Jersey, than be here now with, Fathead.”

  “Me too! See, Ma, we just agreed on something. We’re fine. It’s over. Vineato.”

  Ma smiles. “Seatbelts on. And remember, Granny Lola needs to be picked up in an hour. Buh-bye.” With that, she trots to the building, a happy bounce in her cruel step. On the plus side, I wasn’t fired. Just temporarily banished.

  That grouped with making out with a hunky dragon this morning, and pancake consumption, I’d say today had its perks.

  Beside me, Devin smells like hickory, honey mustard tangy barbeque sauce. He checks himself in the rearview mirror. His jaw muscle ticked.

  “It doesn’t look that bad,” I say in a puny voice. Guilt rose.

  Devin faced me head on. Aw, shit. At his widow’s peak hairline there was a baby fist sized bald spot. Ma forced him to shift into his regular body before the wolf’s magic got to fixing... well, the rest of the damage I inflicted. Bite marks healed.

 

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