Warrick
Luna trails behind me as I stride from the house, heading for my custom- designed motorcycle. The salt air is kissing it into a bucket of rust, but nothing to do about that in these parts. My brothers and I worked on my baby for a solid year, testing and perfecting each change until we hit the sweet spot. She’s a vintage Harley, chopped low and mean like me. A chrome skull and crossbones leer from the handlebars, and the engine’s a loud growl, warning shifters and humans alike to get the fuck out of the way, ’cause I’m going to blow through them, past them or over them. The frame’s been converted to a rigid hardtail, we added eight inches to the frame tube, and the steering neck rake is set at an angle of forty-five degrees.
When I pull the motorcycle out of the garage and lean it on the kickstand, Luna climbs on the front. I bark out a laugh. Does she think I’m going to sit on the Queen seat?
“You driving, sweetheart?” I say, towering over her. “You’re in the King’s seat.”
She gazes up at me with the eyes of a deer in a hunter’s sight. “I thought this was the seat.”
She chews on her lower lip, a picture of nervous innocence. I stare at her mouth, and a temporary insanity takes over because the next second I’m wondering what it would be like if I were to nibble on her lower lip… And work my way down to other places on her tight little body.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I’ll take a bang piece now and then, but it’s a “needs met and see ya later” kind of arrangement, not a tasting party. When I think about it, it’s been a while since I screwed a chick. Probably why my cock is twitching in my jeans even though Luna’s nothing like my regular rough-around-the- edges shifter-groupie type. I need a woman who knows what she’s doing- and what she’s getting. There are always human women lining up for a chance to ride a wolf cock, but they know they won’t get more than that and they aren’t looking for it. It’s a certain type of woman who gets wet for men like us, and that type is the exact opposite of the little wolf pup straddling my bike.
Cleaning up Ethan’s messes when his cock socks get clingy, or their men start fights with him for sleeping with their women, has taught me that pussy’s usually more trouble than it’s worth. Not even going to look at the one living under my roof. Luna’s nothing but a PYT-way too young and
inexperienced for the likes of me. I’d destroy her. I’m probably twice her age, not to mention that though her body might be prime and ready for fucking, her mental age leaves a few years to be desired.
With a grunt, I say, “Get off.”
She obediently climbs from the black leather seat. I swing my leg over, place my boots on the ground and my hands on the handlebars. “Get behind me,” I say, jerking my head backward to indicate her place. “That’s the Queen’s seat.”
She climbs on. “Am I the Queen?”
“Hang on,” I say, powering on the bike and revving the engine. “And put your feet there.” I indicate the chrome footrests on either side.
She carefully positions each foot in the right place. “What do I hold onto?” she shouts over the roar.
“Whatever you can get your hands around,” I say with a chuckle. Damn, she’s going to freak the fuck out when I take off. Bastard that I am, I can’t wait. I crank up the engine and release the brake. We rocket along the dirt road, fishtailing as I let the bike find its rhythm.
Luna screams and clutches my leather vest.
I laugh at her fear because I’m a dick like that, and then I increase the speed just to hear her shriek again. Instead, her screams turn into
whoops and laughter that joins mine, and her arms slide around me, tightening their hold. The chick has some cojones.
We power through the trees, sending a gator waddling for the water to avoid getting beheaded by my front tire. I’m digging Luna’s exuberance until she pushes her pussy into my lower back from her slightly raised position. And then she slides her hands between my legs, right next to my cock. She’s impressed me that she’s having fun instead of being scared, as I expected, but I guarantee fun time is over if Daddy comes out to play.
I scoot her hands onto my thighs one at a time with my gloved hand and give each one a solid pat, indicating they stay put right where they are. But my cock has taken notice of the attention and starts stirring in my jeans again. I can feel her warm little paws on my thighs, so close to wrapping around my shaft and…
I shut down that line of thinking real quick, but I’ve got a massive hard-on until we reach the edge of town. Then I focus on what I’m doing instead of the skinny little body wrapped around mine. I slow things down and set the bike to cruise. I like to take it nice and slow when I hit Jacksonville and watch people scurry to get out of my way.
Some of the local shifters glare at me. One asshole even flips me off, which makes me chuckle. There’s not a damn shifter or human in these
parts who could get me to piss my pants in fear-they’re the ones who would wet themselves if I even glance in their direction.
We pull up to Paradise Acres, and I park the bike on the cracked pavement. There are raised lines of paint where the parking spots used to be marked, but they’re faded the same color as the rest of the lot, and no one uses them. We just park wherever the fuck we see space between sinkholes and potholes for whatever we’re driving.
Luna simply sits there with her damn pussy pressed into my sweat- soaked back.
I exhale a sigh. “This is the part where you get off the bike.”
“Oh,” she says and withdraws her hands and pussy, scrambling off the motorcycle.
I climb off, remove the key and shove it in my pocket. I know my bike will be safely parked-no one dares to lay a fucking finger on my ride unless they have an upcoming funeral planned.
“I’ve been there,” Luna says brightly, pointing to a weirdo shop for supernatural potions and beauty bullshit.
“I thought you lived in the woods and had never met a human before.” I slow my gait so she can keep up with my long-legged stride. The sidewalk’s radiating heat from the intense sun, and I’m ready to get inside the artificial cool of a store for a few minutes.
“It was only a few days ago,” Luna mumbles. “When I was being prepped for Axel.”
“Don’t you worry about Axel, sweetheart,” I say, ruffling the top of her head. “His expiration date will come soon enough.”
Her hair’s a tangled mess from the wind, and a scowl bruises her pretty face.
I don’t have a clue what the frown’s about, but I shrug it off and steer her away from Lewis’s shop and toward Better Buy Big Box store. “That’s the store we want.”
When we get to the front door, it glides open, and we’re met with a blast of cool air. We trek inside with Luna looking this way and that like a pie-eyed child.
“Just get whatever you think you’ll need,” I say, sweeping my hand around the super-sized store. “And meet me at the register in fifteen.”