Night Critters (Collection) (27 page)

Phaedra giggled around the big mouthful she had and signaled in American Sign Language, “Yes."

JR could read ASL as easily as Phaedra could. She'd watched him on a newsvid where he'd given a speech and signed simultaneously, citing a deaf cousin when questioned how he knew ASL. Werewolves had huge families, and the Thornton Pack was the largest in North America. “It's a little spooky that you know I speak ASL.” He moaned once more. “Please stop, Phaedra. It's been a long time and I need a few minutes to cool off, so to speak."

Phaedra couldn't resist the temptation to show off her fairy abilities, and frankly, she didn't try very hard. All it took was a small pull from the wintry weather outside. A light snowfall and chill settled over just the couch area. Then she sat back and batted her green eyes as innocently as possible. In human form, her brown hair was nothing much, but when she chose to permit it, the brown tint became as green as ivy.

JR looked up and shivered. A particularly large snowflake settled on his long, wolfish nose before melting. He grinned and stuck out his tongue to catch another like a child. “Never ask a nature elemental for a cool off. I get that."

The snicker bubbled out of her like a hot spring, impossible to stifle, and burst forth into a geyser of laughter. In between gasps for air, Phaedra tried to explain what was so funny. “Hee hee! Do you realize —”
snort, giggle
“those big brown eyes of yours cross —”
bwahahaha
! “when you try to catch a snowflake with your tongue?” She fell over on her side on the rug, laughing hysterically.

JR dove off the sofa and fell beside her on the rug, catching the remote to the fireplace on his way down. Expertly, he flicked on the flames and tossed the remote back on the side table. “Naughty, evil little fairies have to be punished with tongue-lashings, you know. Please keep your hair green. It's so beautiful that way. So calm and peaceful, just like the holiday tree."

Phaedra blinked up at him in surprise. Wood fairies were much less beautiful than some of their elemental cousins, and she'd always accepted her plainness as fact. She hardly noticed when he unbuttoned and peeled off her flannel shirt, and came back to herself just in time to lift her butt and let him remove her blue jeans. At least she'd let Charm talk her into her new thong and bra when they'd shopped together last month.

Lust fired up in JR's suddenly golden lupine eyes. “You've been hanging with my sister-in-law, haven't you? What other things did she do to corrupt innocent little fairies?"

Obviously, he didn't know fairies well at all, but she'd play along. Phaedra bit her lower lip to keep from laughing in his face. “My nipples are pierced."

He threw back his head and howled. Literally howled. Then her bra shredded beneath werewolf fangs. He
tore open the shutters and threw up the sash
so fast, she found the fastener to her bra on the mantle the next day. Not that she cared. Her tits were happily being ravaged by a man getting furrier by the moment.

Phaedra tugged on one soft, hairy ear to get his attention. “Hey! Mr. Silky Fur! I'm not into bestiality, here.” She raised herself on both elbows to stare down his long nose at him until he caught on.

His big, lupine eyes registered chagrin. The fur receded back into his skin, and gradually a more human-like shape returned to his face. “Forgive me. I'd forgotten you were not one of my own kind.” He ducked his head to look like a small boy caught in a minor infraction. “It's not bestiality if you both can shift."

Her lips twitched with the humor of the situation. “I suppose not, but since you haven't got a phallus the size of a toothpick, and I don't have fur, let's stick to the one form we both share, please.” To emphasize the point about his size, she stroked his cock in one long, sweeping motion.

"You bring out the beast in me no matter what form we're in.
Growf
!” He pushed her onto her back, and her thong met the same fate as her bra. “Do fairies really taste like flowers?” His tongue remained lupine-long, and every inch of it swiped her from ass to clit in one motion. “Okay, herbs."

Her breath came in harsh pants after her initial gasp of surprise and pleasure. “I wouldn't know, but we fart the scent of pine, if you're wondering why the holiday tree smells like it does."

"Well, now I do.” He reached for the candy on the side table and drew it slowly along the same path his tongue had used seconds before. “In fact, you taste of peppermint. One of my favorite flavors. The candy is merely for enhancement.” He licked again. “Lots of enhancement."

She lost all ability to speak and only managed a strangled moan. The peppermint intensified every sensation her nerve endings could grab, and apparently she had billions of nerves ready and willing to overload themselves.

Two more swipes of a werewolf tongue, and Phaedra was flying without her wings. Who knew a humble herb could be this much fun?
To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all
! With every “dash” Phaedra came again. And again in waves. There should have been a line in the poem about whirling winter storms sweeping a helpless fairy away. Too bad her attempts at poetry made advertising jingles sound like Byron.

Some great poet or author—she never could remember this stuff—had said that females were never more ready for sex than when they'd just had the best screaming orgasm, or something like that. He'd probably said it prettier, but the point was, he was right. She wanted JR to fuck her blind. Or until she had calluses on her back. Okay, both.

JR, his eyes still slanted and gold-brown from his furrier side, wiped his chin and licked his lips. “Yep, fairies taste wonderful. I'm suddenly very fond of peppermint."

Phaedra, on the other hand, wasn't exactly coherent. She meant to quote another line from the poem,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
, and tell him how wonderful it was to fly without wings. However, the only word understandable was—of course—mount. Good thing that word fit her need.

Mount was entirely inadequate. JR was large—another inadequate word. Huge was more like it. He took his time, entering with that perfect combination of caution and need very few males mastered.

It hurt and felt like magic, all at once. Pain was not normally part of the fairy fun, but she didn't give a damn if he ripped her in two while he impaled her. Yeah, now there was the right word, impaled. Oh, and getting seriously fucked. Another orgasm stopped all thought until all she could do was yell, “Ohhh, ooo-oooh!"

What she didn't expect was JR's reverent statement, “So long. It's been so long!” His eyes were shut, and he had the look of a man who'd found glory instead of the goofy expression most males sported when they got laid.

The heat from the fireplace kept the air deliciously warm and cozy, and the rug beneath her butt fortunately didn't slide all over the living room while they fucked each other silly.

At one point, Phaedra used the element of surprise to flip JR on his back, where she rode him for a time like a human cowgirl rode a wild horse. However, she had no objections to finding herself back on her back being held by a were-critter much larger and stronger than herself in any form.

He probably could have broken her in half at any time, but he was gentle and yet demanding all at once. Several times, he stopped and panted, his eyes golden and more fur than allowable by a five-o'clock shadow covering his face. Then, he'd be back, commanding she give him all.

She surrendered and helplessly gave him her body, but she wanted more. Much more. She wondered if she'd stand the strain of orgasm after orgasm, riding and being ridden, by a male who could barely control his furry side. Who cared? She wanted to be... devoured. “More. More. More!"

The coffee table fell over with a crash, and they barely paused to acknowledge the damage done.

He kissed her so hard she felt her lower lip bleed. Against her lips, he growled, really growled. “Can't stop. Can't hold back."

Phaedra grabbed his ears and held his golden gaze so he could focus. “Give me! Now!"

JR shuddered, and then howled. Loud and long, his voice sang like he'd fucked the Moon Goddess herself. Did the werewolves believe in the Moon Goddess? Suddenly, she wanted to know more about them. Later. Oh, yes. Later. Most especially, she wanted to know this werewolf more.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name
. Then she came so hard, she saw flashing lights in front of her eyes, like the lightning storms of summer. Being alive and in tune with all nature never felt so good. Was it love she felt for a male she had hated only an hour before? No, it couldn't be. Even flighty fairies took longer than half an hour of pure sex to fall in love.

Gradually, they relaxed in each other's arms. Phaedra's hands fell from his ears as they slowly changed back to the small pink shell of his human form. Unbelievably, she missed the feel of his silky fur. She couldn't even manage enough breath to articulate anything wittier or snarkier than “Great tongue action, Wolfman."

"Thank you, Phaedra.” Well, at least he had enough breath. Somehow, he also found the strength to pull her into his arms so her head rested on his shoulder. “From you, that's a compliment and a half. As soon as both of us have more energy than a mouse, I'd like to prove to you my sincerity about reforming."

It took them about an hour, but finally she gingerly sat in the passenger seat of the luxurious Mercedes.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below
. Yep, another great line from the old poem, especially when it so fit the actual scene.

JR kissed her hand once more before starting the engine and pulling out carefully onto the road that led back to his construction site, where he promised the proof of his reformation waited for her inspection.

She felt it just before they pulled into the yard. New life. Hundreds of them, warm and content. “Trees!” Phaedra flung open the door as soon as JR stopped the car in front of three huge trucks, their heating engines rumbling quietly. “Those trucks are full of baby trees!"

JR grinned proudly. “Trust a wood fairy to recognize them before the doors are even open.” He pointed to a huge warehouse structure. “This big building is the new horticulture and greenhouse center for the hiking parks in this area.” He thrust his hands into his pockets and looked sheepish. “Do you think your family could grow their own home? I haven't found a horticulturist yet."

Phaedra folded her arms across the hood of the Mercedes and grinned at JR. “Yes, you have, if you'll let me finish my thesis. In January, I graduate and become Dr. Phaedra Sonierre, Ph.D. in horticulture with an arborist specialty. What else is a homeless wood fairy to do but grow her own home?"

JR frowned and looked stern. “What the hell do you think you're doing tramping around in the snow? Don't you have a paper to finish?"

"Excuse me, Santa Paws, but even fairies get Christmas Day off. By the way, how does coffee and gingerbread sound? Someone left me a fabulous feast, a holiday tree, and no children until this afternoon.” Phaedra batted her eyes. “Besides, don't you think you need to discuss with me the perks of my new position?"

Her werewolf lover licked his lips. “'
I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, ‘Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night
.’ Race you to the candy canes."

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Someone cursed Lena Austin with “may you have a life so full you'll have many tales to tell your grandchildren.” Lena's a “fallen” society wench with a checkered past. She's been a licensed minister, hairdresser, Realtor, radio DJ, exotic dancer, telephone service tech, live-steel medievalist swordswoman, BDSM Mistress, and investment property manager. Not necessarily in that order. She never finished that degree in marine archaeology, but did learn to scuba—she's got a lifetime of “research material!"

Hey, why waste these stories on kids who won't listen anyway? Writing them down is a nice way to spend her retirement. What? You expected an ex-BDSM Mistress to take up crocheting or something? See all her books at www.LenaAustin.com. You can reach her by e-mail at [email protected].

Tuesday Richards is in the home stretch of college classes, working toward a business management degree. In her free time she works as a marketing coordinator and spends time with her kids. As for her name? No, her parents were not high or drunk—she was named after “Tuesday's Gone” by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Visit her at www.tuesdayrichards.wordpress.com.