by Keri Hudson
Sabrina huffed out an amused chuckle. “You taught him a lesson.”
“I hope he learned it.” Their laughter died away. “But you’re right, I think; we’re more alike than maybe we realize. I just always thought that… that there wouldn’t be love for me, not like that…”
“Like this, you mean.”
Marcus smiled. “Like this.”
“I felt the same way, and I’m not the man you are.”
“If you were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” They shared another little chuckle.
“Makes me wonder, though,” Sabrina said, “how it is that you’ve never met another, um, a she-bear-shifter… is that right?”
Marcus broke out in deep laughter from low in his throat. He let it dominate his chest, and it felt good in his belly. “Close enough, I suppose. But there just aren’t that many of us; more lupes than us.”
“Lupes?”
“Lupine shifters. I guess it’s a bit of a derogatory term, but… it’s just easier. By the time my father and I got here, we were the last that we knew. He was killed by the lupes and, well, I just stayed here to… well…”
“To avenge him?”
“No, Sabrina, it’s more than that. There are shifters everywhere, as I understand it. But here, these lupes, they’re aggressive, smart, and coordinated. They’ve been planning a move for a long time now, a chance to overtake the human race.”
“Overtake the—? What the fu—?”
“That’s why I’ve been in the bayou all these years. I’m the only creature they can’t seem to best; the only one who can keep their population down, not to mention their ambition.”
“Oh, I... I see.”
Marcus raised his beer. “But they’ve been at bay for a good long while now, so if we can just keep the human population under control, all should be well.”
Sabrina clearly knew what he was talking about. “You think they’ll come back?”
“Not to you,” Marcus said, “but I’ll be here, in any case.” Another sip of beer was cold and crisp, delighting Marcus’ pleasure centers.
Sabrina said, “S’funny, when you think about it; shifter or human, U.S. or the East, we really are the same under the surface, we all want basically the same terrible things.”
“But we all want the same good things too,” Marcus said. “We have to remember that… for our own sake.”
Sabrina smiled and squeezed Marcus’ hands from within them. “Yes, for our own sake.”
“And after this fine meal,” Marcus said, “I think I know what would be good for both of our sakes.”
*
They took a stroll down the street, the inviting sounds of creole music drawing them to a corner bar. A little band cranked out the authentic Cajun folk music creole: heavy polka beats with sliding fiddles, scraping washboards tapping out the rhythms. It was an almost ancient kind of music, several strains woven together into a unique blend. There was no denying the rhythmic temptation, a simple two-step which thumped out of the wood floor from the big double bass.
Marcus led Sabrina onto the stage, turning her around like she was some adorable little ballerina around him. He felt big, strong next to her, her hips gyrating with the rhythm. Her breasts were proud and high as she arched the small of her back and threw her long, curly red hair around in a blurred halo.
Marcus knew how to make the most of as little movement as possible, in the field and in all other places. But Sabrina seemed to specialize in more movement, and making even more of that. Those sexy hips swayed, one pretty thigh on each side of his left leg, grinding herself with greater speed and intensity.
Marcus spun her and she playfully complied, but Marcus could see in her smiling eyes that she’d be back in front of him. It was a public seduction, and both of them knew it; everyone in the room seemed to know it. With Sabrina grinding down against him, her eyes looking up at him as if to transfix him, as if she needed to. But Marcus almost felt like he was the center of the entire room’s attention—every woman’s desire, every man’s ideal. As the music got louder and more heated, Sabrina’s gyrations more comely and delicious, the crowd cheering their obvious mutual passion, Marcus felt less like he was being observed and more like he was being worshiped.
The god of the swamp.
The music pumped louder, and Marcus picked Sabrina up and spun her around, her long, curly red hair flowing behind her. She threw her head back, pale neck smooth and lean, breasts heaving just beneath him, utterly given up to him. Sabrina threw one arm back as Marcus dipped her low, the music coming to a resounding finish and the crowd bursting out in a rousing round of applause.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Marcus knew that Sabrina couldn’t wait until they got back to her apartment any more than he could. They were nibbling at each other all the way up the stairs, though Marcus was resistant until they got into her living room and closed the door behind them.
Locking it.
Marcus threw Sabrina against the wall, with just enough force to drive her passion upward, which he could hear in her little gasp. He kissed her hard, lowering himself to her face, a foot beneath his full height. Her tongue met his, strong and still welcoming, her little hands on each side of his face.
Sabrina pulled at his shirt and pants, yanking them off in increasing, breathless desperation. He kicked shoes off, using his toes to strip off his socks as his pants and shirt fell to the floor around his ankles.
Sabrina’s flimsy dress was soon to join it. Her body was perfect in that dark room, moonlight streaming in through the windows. She wrapped her lithe arms around his broad shoulders, pulling herself up to his height, her feet off the ground.
His strong hands found her narrow waist, not a speck of fat anywhere on her curvy, cat-like body. Marcus lifted Sabrina easily, her long, gorgeous legs wrapping around his hips, ankles locking at the small of his back.
Marcus slid his hands down and under Sabrina’s upper thighs as he pinned her against the wall. She clung to his shoulders as he entered her, merely the top of his erect manhood, resting there to support her. Sabrina dipped her eyes closed and gasped, throwing her head back against the wall. He could feel every subtle flex of her muscle, every twitch, and he knew how sensitive and receptive she’d be. And Marcus had all the time in the world to confirm the fact.
And he would.
“Oh,” Sabrina barely said, lips quivering. “Oh… oh God…”
Sabrina felt incredible, in front of him, wrapped around him, her face against his, eyes locking, cheeks glancing. She smelled good, a waft of perfume, a bit of fruity shampoo. He slid in just a bit further, still leaving it to wait without any repetition.
Sabrina gasped again, a sweet little sound leaking out of her freckled throat. She bit her lips together, eyes clamping shut. “So good,” she cooed, shoulders rolling up, lower lip in a sexy pout. “That’s… that’s so… so good…”
Marcus began a regular pumping action, in and out but at a slow pace, in and out and in a circular pattern to touch off the various patches of nerves around her tender pink tissues. And she was strong, clamping down on his amazing length and girth with boldness and aplomb. She wasn’t intimidated, she was ready for the challenge.
“Yeah, baby, yeah, mmmmmmm…”
And the challenge was more than ready for her.
Marcus’ hips pumped faster, letting her sink down further onto him, her arms and legs and the wall providing the perfect support system. Sabrina’s back slapped against the wall, pictures trembling to hold their hooks. She still had some control over her movement, which she used expertly. But Marcus was in control, surrounding her from almost every side, his hips calling the tune which drove her to greater heights of ecstasy.
“Stay with me, Sabrina… stay with me…”
“Yes, baby, yes,” she rasped, “right there with you… right there…”
Faster and deeper, Sabrina’s legs and arms bringing her pumping up and down in response, they met each other in a f
lurry of slap and sweat, Marcus sinking deeper into her tight pink clench.
Sabrina leaned back, her head thunking against the wall before she threw it forward, biting into his naked shoulder. Stinging pain shot through his chest, suggesting battle. And he wanted to fight even more fiercely.
Marcus pulled her away from the wall. She leaned back and Marcus countered her weight, her body sinking deeper onto his long, thick rod. Sabrina gasped, mouth open in a silent scream, fingers clawing at the hair on the back of his neck. Marcus could feel her thighs flexing to bring her up and down over him, Marcus taking a step to accentuate his thrust and inspire her response. Step, thrust up, and she came back down; step and thrust and sink and wriggle, they made their way in a circle around the room. Sabrina bucked on his cock as she sank deeper still, screaming with the pain and pressure and clearly delighting in both.
Sabrina reached out with one hand behind her, empty air all she could grasp. Marcus led her to the bed, her spine arched as she reached back to support herself, her taut belly stretched before Marcus as he pumped even deeper. Sabrina’s long, red hair fell back, her groan strained in her clenched throat. Her long legs lost their grip on the small of his back and kicked wildly, white thighs flexing on each side of his hips.
“Shake it, angel, shake that sweet ass.” She did as he commanded, when he commanded. Marcus controlled her body with deft mastery, pulling one creamy leg over and flipping her over without ever losing purchase on her from within. Sabrina gasped with surprise, suddenly facing toward the bed, her arms straight forward to support her.
Sabrina was stable again, and ready to take even more of what Marcus had to give. Deeper and harder, with a faster regular cycle, he was pummeling her hard. Sabrina’s arms trembled, her whole body following suit. She dipped her head forward, red mane falling over her face. Her white shoulders arched, hips grinding to match Marcus’.
“Can you take it, angel? Can you?”
She nodded in a little frenzy. “I can… I… I can take it…”
“I know you can, Sabrina, I know you can!”
But Marcus didn’t want her to recoil into a private place, but to be present for that moment, that precious present. He reached over and grabbed a fistful of that sweat-dampened red hair and pulled it back. She gasped with the sudden force, her head snapping up and back.
“Stay with me, angel,” he rasped into her ear. “Stay with me.”
“I… I will…” she forced out between panted breaths, “always… stay with you always…”
It wasn’t the response he’d been looking for, but Marcus was more than happy to have it. And she was giving him more than that, her orgasm rising in her body. Marcus could feel it, her body trembling. He pulled a bit more on her hair, her body almost spasming. Her lips clamped tighter around him, milking him as she exploded inside. The tighter he pulled, the longer that chain of orgasmic release came, each percolation stronger than the one before it.
“Yes, angel,” Marcus rasped, “come for me…” She tried to choke out a word, but didn’t seem able. “Say it, baby, say it!”
“Yes,” Sabrina forced out, “come for you…”
“Yeah, yeah, you keep on coming, sweetheart, keep on coming—”
“Yyyyyooooouuuu,” she forced out, “p-p-p-p-lllleeeeeaaasssse… yyyyyoooooouuuu…”
“You want me to come?” She nodded, head still locked in his grip. “You want me to come deep inside you?”
“Yes,” she whispered, throat clenched, “pleeeeaaasssse, yesssss…”
It was more than Marcus could resist. Her pleading voice, that tender whine, the feel of her tight body wrapped around him, the sight of those naked limbs and haunches, her pretty face bent back but unable to face him, that gorgeous red hair tumbling down.
His orgasm had been resting and ready, but it leapt out at that moment, charging down his vein, the full length of his manhood, to spit out and into Sabrina’s darkest crevices. She cried out, feeling it fill her, spike after spike of hot pearlescent package to fill her to the point of overflowing.
Her body froze in a sexy statue, Marcus’ own body bucking and pulling, muscles pulling tight along the backs of his legs, feet rolling on his calves.
The tension slowly released from them, bodies unwinding into a languid coupling on the bed. Sabrina rolled into his arms and curled up on his chest, trembling and weeping. He wrapped his powerful arms around Sabrina and held her close. Her wet, red curls poured across his pecs and spilled across his arm, his hand gently stroking the back of her head as they both drifted off to sleep.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Both Marcus and Sabrina had been seen by at least one survivor from the farmhouse, so it was important to disguise their appearance. So they took Sabrina’s credit card to a local used clothing store to pick up the latest fashions. Much as Marcus almost hated to admit it, Sabrina looked hot as hell in a pair of cut-off short-shorts and a little button-down shirt tied just under her ample tits. She tucked her long, red hair under a blonde wig and popped some chewing gum into her mouth.
Marcus knew she’d make a convincing appearance.
For himself, Marcus was comfortable enough in jeans and a t-shirt. But his black hair and blue eyes could be a dead giveaway. Lacking any colored contact lenses, and black hair being the hardest to dye, they had little choice.
Marcus sat quietly while the barber cut his black hair down to the nub, leaving only a field of stubble. But it brought out his cheekbones, his chin, his eyes no less blue nor any less resolved. There was only one big roadhouse anywhere near Big Jim’s farmhouse, which made it the only place to go. Marcus and Sabrina had prepared their backstory, readied their accents, Sabrina seeming to fade into character with expert deftness.
“Don’t forget never to break character,” Sabrina said. “You do that, we’re both dead.”
Marcus cracked a wry grin. “Well, I appreciate your… experience as a policeman’s daughter, but I’ve been out here in the wild for almost a decade—”
“All the more reason you should listen to me, Marcus. I’ve been in society, I’m… practiced in our behaviors. When we need somebody to turn into a bear and tear somebody’s head off—”
“Okay,” Marcus said, nodding, “I take your point.”
“These folks, like most folks, they just see what they want to see, they see what they assume is there. Problem is, they might just assume we’re police.”
Marcus huffed. “Maybe.” To answer her thoughtful turn, he explained, “Sheriff could be in on it, for all we know. Mal Travers, never trusted him. And he could provide all the protection… and all the stolen women… he wants or needs.”
Sabrina seemed to give it some thought. “Is this really such a good idea then?”
“What choice do we have? We gotta smoke out whoever’s behind all this, and that’s what this will do.” After another moment of thought, Marcus added, “They won’t do anything to us, not there or then, I don’t think. Might get followed, I suppose.”
“And then what, lead them straight back to us?”
“Hopefully.”
Walking into the bar, they didn’t attract too much attention. Customers sat slouched at the bar, some couples or groups at the tables. But it was the daytime crowd, wincing at the sunlight as it streamed in through the open door. Some grumbled or shifted until the darkness returned to them, their only true friend.
Marcus led Sabrina to the bar. She swayed just so, showing off her curves, as she snapped her chewing gum. The bartender walked up and Marcus said, “Two beers.”
“Coors… or Coors Light?”
"The strong stuff, and two whiskeys.”
The bartender stared Marcus down, eyed Sabrina up and down, and turned to the bar to see to the drinks. Marcus turned and surveyed the meager crowd around him.
Sabrina asked, “Now what?”
Marcus sighed. “Make a pain in the ass out of ourselves,” he said as the bartender brought the drinks. Sabrina dropped a ten on the bar.
Marcus asked the bartender, “Y’all know a fella live nearby called Jim McCullough? Friends call him Big Jim.” Eyes shifted, one man to another. No answer came back. Marcus went on, “See, Big Jim tol’ us he had a… like a pet store, y’see?”
“Pet store,” Sabrina added in a sassy whine, winking and snapping her gum.
“And we were in the market,” Marcus went on, “for a… a pet.”
“A pet,” Sabrina repeated.
“We wanna pet... to pet, y’see?”
“Pet our little pet!”
“That’s right, sticky buns, that’s right.”
Somebody repeated, “Sticky buns?”
Sabrina cocked her hips and winked again, tilting her head just so.
Marcus went on, “Went up t’this farmhouse he done told us about, but it was all blocked off, that yeller police tape everywhere.”
“We don’t like the police,” Sabrina said with a deliberate sneer, snapping the wad of gum.
“Don’t nobody like the police, Sticky.” Marcus asked the men, “But if we can't find Big Jim, well, where’re we gonna find out little pet?”
“Pet!”
“Easy now, sticky.” Marcus kept his attention fixed on the men. “‘Lessin’ Big Jim ain’t in business no more.” No answer came back, so Marcus added, “We done come a long way for our... our pet—”
“I want my pet, Daddy!”
But a glare from Marcus silenced Sabrina, demonstrating his dominance and her perfect comic timing.
Marcus turned back to the others. “So if Big Jim can’t deliver like he said, well, we’d surely appreciate any help we could get findin’ somebody… somebody qualified... who could. And we’ll pay a pretty price.”
“You’ll pay a pretty price, awright,” one voice said.
The bartender said, “Don’t nobody know any Big Jim nobody, an’ we don’ got no pet store nowhere ‘round here’s.”
Marcus knew the man was hiding what he knew; nobody there thought Marcus and Sabrina were looking for an animal pet. He was just deflecting, trying to get rid of them, ready to take word back to whomever Marcus and Sabrina were truly hunting.
