Alpha Heat (7 page)

The stars faded to black and I felt everything in slow motion, with the intensity turned up. The cotton sheets on my skin, the rough leather around my wrists, the sweat running between my breasts, itchy pain from my pussy like a light sunburn.

My skin burned but I wanted more.

I look at him, my mouth open, “please, Sir?” Drool ran down my cheek, and I didn’t care. I needed him inside me, I need him to crush me with his weight, needed him to cum as hard as I just did.

I wanted to see him pant and shake.

From somewhere he pulled out a foil package and bit one corner, ripping it open.

I gasped seeing his full erection. He was longer than any man I’d ever known or seen, other than in the movies I’d watched once when drunk at a friend’s. And thick as my wrist. He was real, and he was here, and he rolled a translucent condom down his full-sized red tipped self.

He looked concerned. “If I’m going too fast, or I’m too much, it’s OK Grace. I can wait.”

“No, no waiting.” I spread my legs apart, rolling my hips. “Please, go slow.”

He raised his eyebrows at me, not moving.

“Please, fuck, me.” I moaned. Knowing what he wanted I said, “Sir.”

He seemed to get even larger, even harder when I said that. Such a simple thing I could give him, that word. An act of devotion. A gift.

Karl held his hand to his mouth and spat into his palm, then rubbed his slick hand on the condom so it glistened. He touched his tip softly against my nether lips, running it up and down, gathering my juices. I was amazed I still had some left having poured out the flood that drenched the sheets around my hips.

He poked his cock in, then drew it back. As his manhood stretched me open I arched my hips, capturing more of him. He moved faster and that burned, making me catch my breath. He slowed and looked at me, his eyes now only inches from mine. “Yes?”

“Yes,” I arched up into him again, pulling against the belt, feeling another kind of burn as the leather dug into my wrists. “Take me, Sir.”

He propped himself up on one hand, his shoulder muscles rippling, as his other hand found my breast. His fingers grasped my nipple, and squeezed in time with his thrusts. He pinched harder each time, and each time the sharp pain turned to ecstasy as he parted me and drove deeper. I locked my legs around his back and thrust myself to meet him.

“Harder Sir, harder.” He obliged both with his cock, and by squeezing my poor nipple. Both of the sensations were sharp and welcome, driving me further and further over the edge. My begging became senseless, too quick to complete even a full, “please,” and I heard myself moaning, “puhpuhpuh,” over and again into his neck as if I floated above the bed watching this berserk couple melting into each other.

I climbed higher up the next hill with his every movement, his every painful pinch, and the stars burst forth again. With one great pull I yanked my wrists loose from the headboard and wrapped my bound hands around his neck, pulling him to me and sighing one long, “ohhhh,” into his ear.

That seemed to send him beyond the edge as his thrusts s became almost frantic and he pushed back against my hands, rising. His hair flared like a halo in the flickering candle light.

My Norse God
swelled inside me and I felt all the wrinkles of my pussy flatten as he stretched me. Every bit of my inner surface, every nerve-ending, touched him now.

The candle had grown brighter, and his hair longer. He opened his mouth and I saw his canines flash, much longer than the teeth of a man.

“Grace, oh shit, Grace. Grace. GRACE.” He said my name with a howl, a sound no human throat could make.

fifteen

I jerked my hands back from around his neck and my feet flailed as I backed up the bed to get away from him. His cock throbbed, and I saw the condom bulge outward with cum pooled within, jets pulsing the thin membrane outward. I realized he was transforming into something else. Something not human. Something like the werewolves in those popular shows. Unlike those transformations, claws popping through skin, teeth falling out, Karl seemed to be changing more organically with fur shooting out like sped up movies of grass growing. Golden grass, springing up through his naked skin. His hair grew longer and puffed out like a lion’s mane as I watched it.

His nose broadened and his eyes enlarged.

“I won’t hurt you, Grace.” His voice had changed also, deeper, with the brass sound of a large dog’s throat.

“No, no, I can’t— Karl. What the hell!” I had been panting in lust moments before, now I hyperventilated. I backed right off the bed to the floor on the other side. He pounced to the side of the bed, his now furred hands showing long ivory colored nails that cut slits into the fancy sheets.

“Wait. This. Will. Pass.” He hunched his head between his hands. Cords or muscle bulged from his neck.

This girl was not going to hang around and see if it did.

I grabbed my dress from where it lay in a green pool on the floor. The candle flared as the pent up wax melted a way out, running over the table.

The maid’s going to hate that.

Many sexy songs I didn’t recognize had been streaming from the sound system, but I knew this one. Radiohead. The singer wailed about not belonging.

I don’t belong here, either.

Karl Norman wasn’t just some arrogant rich guy hiding an inner sweetness and a kinky secret. He’s a something sick, something different. A monster. A beast from legend.

A beast I wasn’t ready to save.

Pouring my dress over my head, grabbing my shawl, I glanced back one more time at Karl.

I could breathe again, but I still had to move.

He showed me his palms, naked now, like a human’s.

“Already changing back. Stay, Grace.”

“I’m sorry…too weird.”

I smoothed my dress around my hips, found my shoes, not seeing my bra and not caring.

I turned on my heel and rushed through the door, almost knocking down the waitress.

She looked shocked. By me.

The waitress pushed a dessert try loaded with amazing looking pies and cakes, covered with white foamy whipped cream and fresh looking fruit.

Damn, I should’ve stayed for dessert.

But I knew if I spent one more minute looking at Karl Norman’s perfect features I would throw myself in his lap and kiss his face from the collar of his shirt to the line of his curly hair with its damn full moon highlights. I’d sniff around his collar and behind his ears for the scent of his clean sweat mixed with sandalwood soap and his Drakker Noir aftershave.

I’d always be watching for his hands to grow claws and his teeth to get longer. Sharper.

The hallway floor outside Karl’s door was covered with a crimson and midnight patterned carpet that absorbed my heels as I walked. I couldn’t remember which way I’d come in and there was nothing as prosaic as signs on the wall pointing the way to the restaurant. Glowing words spelling, “Exit” and I headed toward the light, but when I got there a red-lettered warned me not to open the door unless there was an emergency.

Does discovering the man you just had sex with shifts into a monster when he gets excited, does that count?

As an emergency?

While his change scared me, he was still a very interesting man. A man with so many problems. First, his sexual deviance, that would have shocked me a few days ago, but it’s not the end of the world. Like many college girls I had read Roquelaure and James. I’d seen the girls in the park. I’d played with my neighbor. Bondage and discipline sex wasn’t a novel idea to me.

In fact, I had spent many a night with the
Claiming of Beauty
series a few years ago, before I decided I needed to find something more realistic to fantasize about.

I just couldn’t see myself talking about or even hinting at those desires with the well-scrubbed boys who asked me for dates.

So, that part of Karl’s problem wasn’t a show stopper.

Then why was I running from him?

The monster thing, of course. That’s different.

I’d read stories about shifters. People who turn into monsters. Vampires. Werewolves. Beasts. Other things. But I’d never imagined there could be any truth behind those tales.

What I knew of science said changing into a wolf was impossible. Magic.

We all learn growing up that whatever magic once existed on this earth went away a long time ago. Fairies, Goblins, Vampires, Shapeshifters, these were all legends of the distant past, not something that could happen today. Serial killers, school murderers, marathon bombers, angry old men with guns in movie theaters, the news showed actual monsters each night. But none of our modern monsters were magic.

Not in real life.

I arrived at a mirror and a dark wooden table. A silver vase on its top held a spray of fresh roses.

I stopped to smell them.

Real. I must still be in the exclusive arm of the hotel.

I would’ve noticed the roses if I’d passed them before, so I must have turned wrong when I rushed from Karl’s room. I didn’t want to go back the way I came.

Maybe I’d see him coming out of his door. Maybe I’d see some more willing girl entering.

I was sure that at some point there would be a sign for a way to an exit that wouldn’t set off any alarms.

I hurried on past the mirror and the roses, thinking more about Karl, about why I didn’t want to see him and why I didn’t want to see someone else going into his room.

What about Jack? Does he know?

I thought back on them laughing and joking during our meal. Jack had a lot of sports jokes he shared with Detective Cale, who didn’t laugh aloud but instead smiled and said, “Hah.” He seemed to say it louder and make the word last longer the funnier he found the joke.

I didn’t remember most of them. There was one about the Chicago police giving you Bears tickets for speeding. That one stuck out. Leslie’s from Chicago and I wanted to tell the joke to her next time I saw her.

There was another one about a Texas team having to play on dirt because a player smoked all the grass.

Because I smoke weed sometimes and from the way Karl smiled at the joke, either he does or he doesn’t care, I liked that joke.

It scared me that I was worried about something like that. I liked him more than just a hot guy I’d had my first sex with.

A hot, magic guy.

Karl and Jack seemed close, so I was pretty sure he knew Karl’s secret. At least the one about the wolf thing.

So, was I just rejecting Karl for being unique? Doesn’t that go against everything I’d been taught? Isn’t something unique always very valuable? Isn’t originality the most important quality of any person?

How I could I reject him for that? The wolf thing must be something that had happened to him, he’d caught some disease, been bitten by another were-creature, or some experiment had gone wrong.

In the movies, it’s never the hero’s fault.

Lost in thought I almost crashed into a wall as the hallway I’d been wandering ended at a T. I saw a welcome sign, “Restaurant.” The arrow pointed to my right, while the other direction said, “Fitness Room.”

Even if I hadn’t come in via the restaurant, the choice between the two was apparent.

I went through a set of white doors with golden panels, and the frosty carpet gave way to marbled tile and I found myself in the part of the restaurant where the restrooms were.

Now my heels clacked on the floor as I almost ran past the diners, some of them looking at me as if anyone moving fast was an interruption to their perfect night.

Katy Perry’s “Roar” was playing.

I hoped that wasn’t some other magic of his…

Outside the night hit me like a rush of jungle warriors as I left the perfect seventy-five degrees of the air conditioned hotel behind. Even though the time was well after ten, the temperature reached the mid-eighties and sweat broke out all over my body and started pooling in my hollows. I gave my ticket to the valet and sat there melting as more rain started to fall.

These evening showers are frequent in the spring as the cool June ocean air flows inland at night. The valet station was framed by blooming bougainvillea and the color purple, plus the rain always makes me horny.

I should’ve gone back inside and thrown myself at Karl.

If I could find his room.

I thought of his hands rubbing me, pinching me. Maybe if I went back he’d spank me for running.

He probably would. Sicko.

I knew I would enjoy the passion. We’d both get turned on. Then, his hair would grow and his nails would emerge. His teeth would get long and pointed.

I saw his ecstatic face again in the solid sheet the rain had now become. His wolf face.

I wanted to see his face in real life again.

What does he feel when he comes? Does he lose his mind into a gray animal emotion, or does he still see the rich weave of colors pure humans are blessed with?

Despite the claws and despite the fangs, I wanted to know.