haunches, a new crop of fur coating the flesh.
Holy shit, I thought. He’s going all the way.
I had to get off. 21
Scott’s transformation could only end in blood. I slapped him, and grabbed him by the ears as I screamed, “Focus!”
And he did, thank God. His teeth receded, and despite a dull pop in my hip, the pounding became much more pleasant.
Much more.
It was as I came, with those welcome waves crashing through the last layers of tension, with me bearing down onto Scott, now mysteriously flat on his back—I have no clue how that even happened—covering the drain and creating a hot puddle, both literally and figuratively as his own orgasm washed over him, leaving him slack-jawed. It was that moment when I noticed my left leg jutting from my hip at an odd angle. Knee straight and inanimately disconnected.
“What the fuck?”
“Huh?” Scott lifted up onto his palms and took in the ghastly sight. “Oh shit. That doesn’t look good.”
“You think?” I glowered and tried to pull myself off Scott’s erection. “Still with the hard-on?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I could’ve probably gone again.”
“Oh, no. Jo Jo the dog boy has had his bone for the evening, now he’s gonna fix this fucking leg, before I get pissy.”
Scott sucked his lips and tried to manage a position where it would even be feasible to extract his protracted boner from an undead invalid. I wondered what it would be like to be found like this. Not pleasant, I imagined. And by who? What would Honey think, particularly now, I thought, with my foundation washed off down the drain along with my dignity. Jesus, there’s Amanda’s dead body, naked and busted all to hell. How she ever found a living thing to bone her is nothing short of miraculous. She should be grateful for that, at the very least. But she probably wouldn’t even think that, but run screaming for Wendy, who’d no doubt bring Gil, who’d, of course, gather my mother, a few of her closest whores and anyone else who needed a good laugh to cram into my master bath and witness this complete atrocity.
I groaned. “Come on.”
Scott’s mouth spread into a silly grin, he snapped his fingers as though he’d contemplated important strategic scenarios and finally lit on the ultimate tactical response. “You’re going to have to lift yourself up a bit and then, I think if I bear down, I can slip out behind you. Easy peasy. How’s that sound?”
“I’ll give it a shot, but no promises. In the meantime, how about you think about dead kitties or whatever the hell it is that turns off werewolves.”
He clenched an eye and bit his lip, pondering playfully.
I leaned in close. “And if I find out you’ve been sneaking Viagra or Cialis or something, I’m going to kill you.”
“Well, if you keep up that kind of talk I’ll be flaccid for weeks.”
I balanced my torso over my hips and heaved up with my arms, just enough for him to slip out and drag himself, after a minor adjustment, out from underneath me. When I settled back onto the floor of the shower, I heard an eerie pop.
Scott knelt beside me. “You’re going to have to straighten out the good leg.” His face was serious, stoic even.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve said it yourself. You can’t afford another reaper bill.”
A chill passed through me when I realized what he intended to do, or maybe it was the icy water showering around me. I pointed at the nozzle. Scott twisted it closed and the room quieted to a few sporadic drips and Scott’s heartbeat. He waited for me to make a decision.
I couldn’t afford it. He was right. Of course, he was right. I already owed the bitches my first-born child—or a first-born child—whatever the figurative breakdown of forty grand was. Probably triplets.
I slipped my working leg out in front of me and leaned back on my elbows. “Do it.”
Now, I don’t know where Scott got his training, but he knew enough to work quickly. He dropped back down on his
Holy shit, I thought. He’s going all the way.
I had to get off. 21
Scott’s transformation could only end in blood. I slapped him, and grabbed him by the ears as I screamed, “Focus!”
And he did, thank God. His teeth receded, and despite a dull pop in my hip, the pounding became much more pleasant.
Much more.
It was as I came, with those welcome waves crashing through the last layers of tension, with me bearing down onto Scott, now mysteriously flat on his back—I have no clue how that even happened—covering the drain and creating a hot puddle, both literally and figuratively as his own orgasm washed over him, leaving him slack-jawed. It was that moment when I noticed my left leg jutting from my hip at an odd angle. Knee straight and inanimately disconnected.
“What the fuck?”
“Huh?” Scott lifted up onto his palms and took in the ghastly sight. “Oh shit. That doesn’t look good.”
“You think?” I glowered and tried to pull myself off Scott’s erection. “Still with the hard-on?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I could’ve probably gone again.”
“Oh, no. Jo Jo the dog boy has had his bone for the evening, now he’s gonna fix this fucking leg, before I get pissy.”
Scott sucked his lips and tried to manage a position where it would even be feasible to extract his protracted boner from an undead invalid. I wondered what it would be like to be found like this. Not pleasant, I imagined. And by who? What would Honey think, particularly now, I thought, with my foundation washed off down the drain along with my dignity. Jesus, there’s Amanda’s dead body, naked and busted all to hell. How she ever found a living thing to bone her is nothing short of miraculous. She should be grateful for that, at the very least. But she probably wouldn’t even think that, but run screaming for Wendy, who’d no doubt bring Gil, who’d, of course, gather my mother, a few of her closest whores and anyone else who needed a good laugh to cram into my master bath and witness this complete atrocity.
I groaned. “Come on.”
Scott’s mouth spread into a silly grin, he snapped his fingers as though he’d contemplated important strategic scenarios and finally lit on the ultimate tactical response. “You’re going to have to lift yourself up a bit and then, I think if I bear down, I can slip out behind you. Easy peasy. How’s that sound?”
“I’ll give it a shot, but no promises. In the meantime, how about you think about dead kitties or whatever the hell it is that turns off werewolves.”
He clenched an eye and bit his lip, pondering playfully.
I leaned in close. “And if I find out you’ve been sneaking Viagra or Cialis or something, I’m going to kill you.”
“Well, if you keep up that kind of talk I’ll be flaccid for weeks.”
I balanced my torso over my hips and heaved up with my arms, just enough for him to slip out and drag himself, after a minor adjustment, out from underneath me. When I settled back onto the floor of the shower, I heard an eerie pop.
Scott knelt beside me. “You’re going to have to straighten out the good leg.” His face was serious, stoic even.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve said it yourself. You can’t afford another reaper bill.”
A chill passed through me when I realized what he intended to do, or maybe it was the icy water showering around me. I pointed at the nozzle. Scott twisted it closed and the room quieted to a few sporadic drips and Scott’s heartbeat. He waited for me to make a decision.
I couldn’t afford it. He was right. Of course, he was right. I already owed the bitches my first-born child—or a first-born child—whatever the figurative breakdown of forty grand was. Probably triplets.
I slipped my working leg out in front of me and leaned back on my elbows. “Do it.”
Now, I don’t know where Scott got his training, but he knew enough to work quickly. He dropped back down on his
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