One Insatiable

I don’t know what to make of this. When Jim knocked on my door tonight and asked if I’d like to go with him to the local bowling alley, I never dreamed it would put me face to face with Mercy.

This town is fucking bullshit on a stick. First Andy lectures me on how Mercy is some kind of princess, which I already knew by tasting her blood, then I go to a piss-ant bowling alley, the commonest of the commonplaces, thinking I’ll drink a bunch of cheap-assed beer and forget how stupid this morning was, and what happens? In walks Princess.

Not only that, she looks like the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in her tight dark jeans and black top showing her cleavage. I remember vividly how her breasts taste and feel against my mouth. Shit.

I know how soft her skin is. I know how it smells like little flowers. She leans forward to throw a perfect strike, pointing her round ass in my direction, and I have a real battle on my hands. Instinctive urges vibrate beneath my skin every time she moves.

“You going to bowl, dude?” Jim tears himself away from Sally, the little mongoose of a girl who doesn’t even begin to distract my attention from the blazing siren accompanying her.

“No.” It’s all I can manage.

If it hadn’t been for what happened last night, I’d give up on this place. Ever since I’ve landed here, it’s been nothing but bullshit female drama. The sex might be out of this world, but I’m looking to rebuild my life. Mercy is clearly not a part of that objective.

I do my best to keep myself apart from her. I sit behind the row of seats trying to act like I don’t notice how hard she’s working not to look at me. How could she go from the confident, sexy woman of two nights ago to this? In that moment, her head turns and our eyes meet. Desire clenches my stomach, and I see it reflected in her eyes.

Two things are in my head. The first is Mercy’s request to stay away. The second is Andy’s warning. Her lip goes between her teeth, but I don’t look away. Let her squirm. She asked for this.

Granted, I’m a smart guy. I can be a bit obstinate at times, and one of my favorite things is to do the opposite of what everyone tells me I should; but, in cases like this, where females are involved, I always maintain control. As a result, that sexy little lynx can sit in that plastic chair and wonder what I’m thinking. The answer is nothing. I’m not here for her. I’m not sure why I’m here, but it isn’t for this.

Our eyes hold a moment longer, and she stands abruptly and goes to where Jim and Sally are giggling, fumbling over whose fingers go where.

For a moment, I feel like a self-absorbed idiot for not recognizing my simple-minded friend is making more play with the ladies than I am tonight.

“I’m sorry,” Mercy’s warm voice touches my insides like a brand. “I’m so tired, I’d better call it a night.”

“Dude, you’re kicking our asses,” Jim says, looking up at the scores on the television screens above.

She ducks her gorgeous brunette head and laughs. “I guess that’s why I’m tired. Or maybe you were too rough with me today?”

“I am so sorry. Did I hurt you?” Jim’s voice is suddenly serious.

Her face relaxes in a smile, and my grip on being angry falters. So much for not caring about her. “I was only teasing,” she says.

“I never get that,” he says flatly.

“I know.” She nods at Sally, who does a little wave.

She doesn’t even look at me before she jogs up the aisle to the exit, and it takes every bit of my willpower not to go after her. Instead I focus on keeping my ass firmly in this plastic chair, despite how it’s killing me to let her go.

I’ve scented her. I’ve bit her. I’ve tasted her blood. Everything about her is deeply familiar to me. We connected on a primal level. Still, I have to honor her request. Besides, I’m not so desperate I’ll chase after a woman who has her boss threaten to fire me.

Mercy leaves the Spare Lounge, and all my interest in staying goes out the door with her. Waiting a few extra minutes to give her time to be gone, I watch Jim and Sally play the remainder of the game. After what seems a safe interval, I stand and say my goodnights before heading out the door and back to Doris’s place. I don’t go upstairs. Instead, I slip out of my boots, and in the darkness of the empty garage, I strip down before shifting into my panther form.

Running feels good tonight. I worked out pretty hard this morning, but when I’m like this, I want to jump and climb. I also want to see what I can find out about my strange encounter last night. Mercy had me distracted all day, but lingering in my thoughts is a possible reason I’m here.

I’m back up the mountain, near the little creek, when I switch into stealth mode. Stepping quietly, retracing my steps from the night before, I keep to the shadows as I investigate the underbrush. Nothing looks unusual or out of place. For a moment, I stop and inhale deeply, trying to detect a scent. The air is crisp with the scent of warm fires, stinging pine, and moldering leaves. It’s all forest. Lifting my head, I look up at the moon. It must’ve been a fluke, a one-time encounter. I’ve heard of such things before.

It’s late, and I decide to try sleeping in a bed tonight. Following a different trail back to town, I’m only running a little while when I realize I’ve wandered onto someone’s property. It’s not too far from the

little meadow, an easy distance in shifter form.

Hanging around the tree line, I see an enormous house lit up like a beacon in the night. It’s strange because the place appears empty, and for a moment, I pause and wonder at it. Another step, and I drop to a crouch.

He’s here — or at least he was.

The sensation is all around me in the shelter of the trees. Jerking my head around in all directions, I find nothing. I’m alone. Still, his scent is in these woods. He either comes here often or he just left. Looking back at the house I almost shift when I see Mercy standing at the window looking up at the moon. Is that thing after Mercy?

For a moment, I gaze up at her. Even if I’m angry, I can’t deny her beauty. She’s wearing a thin robe, and her dark hair is swept over one shoulder. I watch as she leans her head against the glass, an expression of longing on her face. What’s on your mind, princess? Why are you pushing me away?