Real Good Wolf Page 3

If a demon says this, she means it. Amy’s up to no good. “Don’t I know it.” I press her clit and rub it, then slide my forefinger into her pussy. It’s wet and clamps around my finger. This is good.

  I step back and swing.

  I lay a hard slap on her ass. No warm-up strikes, no bullshit. Surprise registers in her wide eyes.

  I swing again, this time catching her thigh. Amy pinches her lips together and points above. The neighbors are at home. I smirk. Amy is a screamer, so not being able to scream without someone calling the cops is a bonus. She’ll take the punishment quietly. I smack her ass cheek ten times, rapid strikes one after the other, not letting her take a break or allowing the skin to cool off.

  I pause and do it again on the other cheek, her ankles still in my hand; otherwise, she’d wiggle away and run through the apartment, asking me to chase her. My right palm burns as I drop her legs, and Amy flips around. She’s on her back, her head between my thighs. I spread my legs a bit more. “You want Papi’s cock?” I ask. I know what she wants.

  Amy claws at my jeans. I unbuckle my belt and throw it on the floor. She pops the buttons, and my dick springs up. Amy’s hands are cold when they close on my cock, and I shiver. The bed is propped up, so as she lies on her back, I can bend my knees slightly and feed her my cock. Her mouth is wide and ready, and when my dick glides inside, I brace one hand on the bed and roll my eyes to the back of my head. Eager to make me come, Amy sucks my dick like it’s her stairway to hell.

  My job is to hold off and make her come first. I haven’t touched Amy in weeks—the equivalent of five years in my wolf’s mind. I missed her. Seeing as she’s gonna make me fill her mouth with cum in about two minutes, that’s how long I got to get her off.

  I don’t waste time. I rip off her panties and slap her clit a few times. She chokes on my dick but recovers fast enough and continues to deep throat. I stick two fingers inside her pussy while my thumb flicks her clit. When I feel she’s slowed down her sucking, I know I have her. She’s lost in her own pleasure to a point where she forgets about my dick in her mouth. I pump my fingers, fuck her with them mercilessly, jabbing her tight hole and inhaling the sweet scent of her arousal while she bucks and whines.

  She takes my dick into both hands and pumps.

  Uh-oh.

  I slap her clit.

  “Papi, not so hard.”

  Papi gets me going. She knows it, and I know she wants it harder. Amy’s gonna get me to spill first. I abandon her pussy and rub her clit. I’m stroking it as fast as I can, breaking into a sweat over my brow. When I feel her grip my dick so hard, her nails are digging in, and when her body nearly lunges off the bed, I plunge three fingers inside her and wiggle them.

  Amy screams.

  Liquid heat flushes, and her pussy walls flutter around my fingers for at least twenty seconds. She comes multiple times, and I’m feeling pretty confident her pussy missed me. I straighten and look down at her flushed face. Her eyelids are closing, and I believe she might be asleep again.

  Amy opens her legs and mouth, inviting me to choose.

  “Papi’s cum is a reward,” I tell her.

  Her eyes widen. I got her attention.

  “Bad girls don’t get rewards.” I wink at her, and before I climb on the bed for much-needed aftercare, I stuff my hard dick inside my jeans. I arrange her on the bed so she’s facing me. Amy understands I’m upset with her. I never refused her my cum before. I always came on her, inside her, or let her swallow. In our little world, cum is a reward, and this time, she isn’t getting it. This is gonna sting and serve as a reminder. Amy’s hiding something important from me, and until she’s my good demoness again, she can’t have everything her Papi has to offer.

  Chapter Five

  Amy

  Pryus and Papi are two different people and yet one and the same. Over the months we’d played the baby girl/Papi dynamic, Pryus always indulged me. Today, he wouldn't come, had restrained himself and cut me off, telling me without using words, he’s pissed I left Forestvilas. I didn’t expect him to come after me. I expected he’d wonder about my whereabouts, though not for long.

  We were having a baby. At the thought of our baby, I scoot closer to his warm body and peck his lips. The status quo bugs me. Even our little spanking session gives me insecurities, but at least Pryus doesn’t forgo cuddle time. I need this time, and so does he. Pryus doesn’t kiss me back, though. He’s watching me, and I know his wolf is watching me too. They are two different animals but one and the same. Pryus has many faces, all of which are good to me.

  He’s pissed I left town, and he’s giving me the silent treatment. My default is defense. “For fuck’s sake, Pryus, I don’t have to report my every move.”

  His eyes narrow. “What makes you think you don’t?”

  “You closed the strip club, remember? If not, I’m sure everyone in our town could help you remember. We nearly killed each other that night.” It got rough. I was on the stage. A man touched my sandal—note it was a sandal—when Pryus’s crazy switch flipped on. Pryus threw the man out of the club, went in the back, shut down the lights and the music, then came out to proclaim the club closed. The rest of the girls who worked there laid the blame on me, nearly yanking my hair out right then and there. I confronted him. We screamed at each other and have barely spoken since. Well, I talked to him, while he grunted, snarled, and did whatever else grumpy wolves did. I thought he was done with me. I’m not even sure what he’s doing here now.

  Nausea sweeps over me, the kind that makes me break out in a cold sweat. I gulp bile, thinking if I sleep some more, it’ll pass.

  “I remember asking you to stop stripping. But you wouldn’t, so I did what I did. Closed the fucking club.” He leans in. “I don’t regret it.”

  Oh man, he can get me going. I open my mouth to tell him that if I worked there, Sevile could collect on this money and I wouldn’t have to come back to LA County for cash, but then clamp it shut. Gosh, I’m terribly nauseated.

  “What are you doing back here?” he asks.

  “I’m chilling. Taking a vacation.”

  He snorts. “I don’t believe you.”

  He knows not to believe me. I’m a demon with a purpose, and I’m after things that serve my interests. My interests are collecting Collin’s debt. The man lied to me, and I defended his case.

  My stomach rises and churns. I frown. Am I so hungry that I’m nauseated? It’s a weird feeling, and I’m not sure what to make of it. “It’s a week, Pryus. It’s not a big deal.”

  “It is when you don’t tell me. Makes me feel like you’re trying to run from me.”

  “Why would I run from you?” I smirk. I’m playing. I’m not in the mood to fight with him anymore. I love him with all my demonic soul.

  Pryus’s gray eyes are hard and his jaw is so set, you could cut a rock with it. He’s not playing along. “There isn’t a place you can hide that I won’t find you.”

  “I’m not hiding.”

  He sighs and flips onto his back, eyes on the ceiling. “Baby girl,” he says, and I’m melting. “A week and not a day more. I gotta take you home and claim you, or I’ll lose my mind.”

  “Claim me?”

  He rolls on top of me. My legs part so I can feel his big thick cock between my legs.

  Pryus’s wolf shines through his eyes. “You are mine, Amy. You must know this by now, and I gotta mark you.”

  What? “I didn’t know that. I thought we were on-and-off fuck buddies.”

  “Only because you refused my bite. Remember?”

  I frown, then remember Pryus trying to bite me one night. I also remember my instincts screamed, and I refused. After that, we drew up a hard limit on biting. And thank the hell for that, because months later, I found out that when a wolf marks a mate, they share memories. “You can’t mark me.” I shake my head. “That’s a bad idea.”

  “I can mark you, and I will.”

  I’m about to projectile vomit. “Pryus.” I nudge his chest wi
th my palms, but he doesn’t budge. Uh-oh. This is not a drill!

  “What?”

  “I’m gonna be sick.”

  Pryus leaps off the bed, taking me with him. He’s carrying me in his arms while I have my hand pressed over my mouth. He descends the steps, and my stomach is bouncing with him. Downstairs, he stops and looks around. “Where the fuck is the bathroom?”

  I point up the stairs.

  “Fuck me.”

  We’re back up the stairs and inside the bathroom, where I hug my white altar and vomit my brains out. Pryus stands by me, holding my hair and rubbing my back. A real good male taking care of a real evil female. We’re a match made in hell for sure.

  Chapter Six

  Pryus

  I find some coffee and make a couple of cups, then sit outside and bring up my phone’s news app. The breeze cools my balls, the waves lazily hit the shore, and the sun will set any minute now. Nice indeed. Amy got sick twice and was sleeping until now. Her soft footsteps pad over the white tiles, and she sits at the table with me. The breeze lifts the stray hairs away from her angelic face, and her perky nose wrinkles. Amy has freckles on her nose. She’s cute all over. When she brings her knees up to her chest and hugs them, I want to yank her from the chair and put her in my lap.

  I forget the sunset. With Amy around, I forget the world exists. I’m gawking at her beauty. But I also notice her physical movements. The tic in her jaw and the finger tapping her knee. Amy appears serene, as if there’s not a care in the world, but I know her mind is running hundreds of miles per hour, searching for answers, maybe coming up with ways to tell me about the pregnancy. I imagine it’s not an easy thing to announce, especially after we broke up. But I can’t make excuses for her either. She ought to tell me. I won’t make this easier on her and ask. I can wait. Patience is my middle name.

  My phone rings.

  Amy startles and looks at me in question when I don’t answer.

  “I fucking hate yapping on the phone,” I say.

  She giggles. “I know.”

  The phone keeps ringing. It can’t be that important. The most important thing is sitting across from me, tucking her hair behind her ear. I let the damn thing I should’ve silenced ring.

  It stops, then rings again. I sigh and answer. “Hello.”

  “Pryus. It’s been ages.”

  I glance at the number as Amy leaves the table. It’s unknown, but I know the wolf. Svetomir, the local wolf alpha who helped Dirty and me search for my late sister when we first landed in California. I should’ve checked in with him the moment I stepped into his territory. It’s a courtesy packs extend to each other, and some wolves, like Svetomir, get all bent out of shape if a wolf doesn’t check in, especially a dominant wolf from another pack.

  “Hey, man, how are you?” I ask, the noise in the background making me put the phone on speaker and away from my ear. Amy’s in the shower. I can hear the water running upstairs.

  “Dirty called.”

  I roll my eyes. “He told you I’m in town?”

  “Yup.”

  “Tattletale.”

  Svetomir laughs, then I hear the door closing and the background noise dies down. He probably left his nightclub and went into his office. As a groan reaches my ears, I presume he landed his ass in the chair. “You got business in my neck of woods?”

  “There’re no woods here. You have tiki bars and surfboards.”

  “And thank the good Lord for that. I got enough cold back where I’m from.”

  Svetomir grew up in Rostov, Russia, and emigrated at the age of seven, but his accent is as thick as if he immigrated to the States yesterday.

  “Yeah, I got business here,” I say.

  “Wanna stop by and tell me about it?”

  “No.”

  “Dirty says a demon female in town is your business.”

  “Dirty’s got a big mouth.”

  “He’s looking out for you. Them demonesses will end us all. I tell you, my man, I dated one once. Crazy good in the sack.”

  “Thank you, Svetomir.”

  “No problem, man. So nine o’clock? My place. I get a bottle of anything you want, and we chill. Bring the demon.”

  “Her name’s Amy.” Speaking of Amy… She comes out and sits beside me, gaze on the phone where I’m typing Svetomir as a caller ID.

  She lifts an eyebrow. “Hey, Sveto,” she says.

  I want to kill Sveto.

  “Hey, babe.”

  Amy smiles down at the phone, then glances at me. The grin drops from her face because I’m homicidal. “How the hell do you know him?” I bark.

  “I don’t. I’m just saying hi.”

  Svetomir laughs. “Won’t you guys stop by, hm?”

  “Amy isn’t feeling well. We’re staying in.”

  “Amy’s going to sleep,” my demon says. “Again. So Pryus is a free man.”

  We go back and forth. I really don’t feel like going out. I barely handled the noise and drama of our pack’s former strip club. Svetomir owns a nightclub. It’s loud, obnoxious, people get into fights, and his crowd is mainly college kids. It’s not my kind of a gig, but Svetomir and Amy kick off the chatter like they hadn’t seen each other in ages and now it’s time to catch up. He’s telling her about his mother in Russia, his family dog, and how to pronounce words in Russian. Amy’s talking about Natie and her parents.

  Time’s up. I snatch the phone and bark, “I’m on my way.” Click. I stand and tuck the damn phone in my pocket. I stare her down.

  Amy rounds the table and hugs my middle. “Thank you.”

  “What for?”

  “For holding my hair.”

  I chuckle. “Any time.” I wrap my arms around her and wait. Now would be a good time to tell me about the baby. Amy squeezes my middle and looks up. Her lips are full and shiny. She’d put on lip gloss. She rises up on her toes and waits for me. I stare at her green eyes. They’re the color of the forest, beautiful and mesmerizing. It takes everything in me to peck her nose instead of kissing her on the lips. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  “Take your time. You deserve a night out.”

  Amy

  Little black dress on, hair done and pulled up, I stare at my profile in the mirror and rub my flat belly. One day, Pryus will have his hand on my big belly. One day, when everything between us is back to normal. I look forward to the future. It promises stability, and in order to secure the future I want for us, I have things to do today.

  Pryus is loyal and protective. I can’t tell him about Sevile because he’ll fix my debt with the vampire. I can’t tell him about Collin because I want to destroy Collin, but if Pryus finds out how I intend to do that, he’ll think I’m evil. Which I am. I’m trying to be better for my baby, who will inherit her father’s goodness. I imagine having a girl, all cuddly and soft. My struggle is real.

  But I can’t forget tonight. I can’t forget the rapist is out there on the prowl for the next victim, and I’m fairly certain that after his trial, nobody would report him. The women would stay quiet, thinking nobody would believe them. In his case, the justice department failed. Even if I were the best lawyer on the planet, I should’ve lost that case. The money the girl didn’t have couldn’t buy her a better lawyer, a bloodhound like me. Since justice wasn’t served, I will deliver it. I smile in the mirror, embrace my demon nature, and grab my purse.

  Although Collin could easily come pick me up, I said I’d walk so he doesn’t send a limo for me as he’s done with his victims. He drugs the girls inside the limo, then takes them back to his house and does what he wants with them. I won’t ride in the same space.

  Collin and I meet up in a high-end restaurant overlooking the Pacific. He’s all smiles and dimples, looking as sharp as a hot Hollywood billionaire should. I do my very best to avoid his touch on me, and I succeed at the little task until we sit down and he picks up my hand. The touch ignites my rage, and, on instinct, I reach for his memories. A part of me wants to rip his brain to
shreds. I need a distraction, or I’ll sit here all night long picking his brain, maybe destroy him right here and now. The urge to collect his debt and sever our ties makes me dig deeper. A girl’s face pops up inside my brain. It’s a young surfer girl who kept calling him all day, crying about him canceling the dinner. He’s made plans with her next weekend, and they are so vivid that it’s as if he’s already realized them. Something like this, something so certain and inevitable, translates into the subconscious mind as if it has already happened. I see what he’s doing to her, and my stomach rises.

  “Welcome, kindred soul,” he projects.

  I pause my digging at the clear sound of Collin’s voice in my head. Immediately, I withdraw from his mind and raise my mental defense walls. My nipples perk, my pussy aches, and it takes me a minute to understand. Collin Stars is a demon, or more precisely, an incubus. His is a physical power, and a nasty one. Lucifer’s balls!

  I stick my leg out and trip the waiter.

  The water from the pitcher he’s carrying flies right into Collin’s face.

  Collin lets go of my hand, stands, and grabs the man by his tie. “You fucking idiot!” he whisper-hisses, then looks around. The restaurant is quiet. In a place like this, you don’t need to yell to be heard.

  From the table next to ours, the camera flashes. And there are more. The paparazzi have found out about this rendezvous, and they’re everywhere, as are the other waitstaff, the busboys, the manager, and the whole fucking place. Cameras are flashing, the photographers hoping to sell the images to the highest bidder. They’re all over Collin, and he lets the waiter go.

  The waiter apologizes profusely while the manager is making his way over, and I believe our dinner is over before it even got good. Just as well. I’m not hungry. My stomach is upset, and I’d love a four-cheese pizza with ham and pineapple right now. “It’s all right,” Collin tells the man. “It happens.”

  I’m tempted to roll my eyes, but I gotta play along. I stand and grab a cloth napkin and think about dabbing the water on Collin’s suit, but decide to toss the cloth to him instead. Surprise registers in his eyes when he catches the napkin. An incubus can influence another demon just as I can rummage through his mind. He isn’t afraid of me, though. His ego is huge, his soul is old, and he doesn’t register me as a threat. He probably believes I’m truly on his side.