Moon Lovers Box Set (BBW Werewolf Romance) (15 page)

"You just stay here and I'll get the rest of your clothes," I told him. I ran my errand and ran back, where I got him into his pants before the sun completely set. The house lay in darkness, and I scooted the other chair close beside Greg. He chuckled, and I scowled at him. "What's so funny?"

"I haven't been scared of the dark for so very long that it's a little funny when I see someone scared," Greg replied.

"I've had a lot of bad luck with the dark lately," I pointed out.

"Yes, but not anymore. You've got a good set of eyes now, and shouldn't have any trouble going upstairs to find my box in the closet."

I glanced at the dark hallway and cringed. "Um, got a light?" I asked him.

He smiled and shook his head. "I'm afraid not, but there are matches in the box. We can start a fire and eat the food in the cans. You should be hungry." My stomach growled and I scrunched up to muffle the sound. Greg chuckled. "Wilson's food lasted a while, but even his bacon majesty can only last so long."

I sighed and reluctantly stood. "Fine, I'll go up there, but if I'm not back in ten minutes send a search party."

"I'll try to stumble up the stairs," he promised me with a smirk.

"My hero. . ." I grumbled.

"Just use your new sight and you should be fine," he insisted.

"Right, new eyes. Just let me roll out these ones and pop the new ones in."

Greg chuckled. "I can see the rolling, but not the new ones."

"I'll work on those while my shins make the acquaintance of every pointy part of this giant splinter."

Chapter 17

I left him to the comfort of his chair and chest agony, and made my way to the hall. The rickety, dark stairs lay before me in all their terrifying glory, and I glanced back into the living room. "Any chance there's a trick to turning on these new eyes?" I asked him.

"Focusing helps," he called back.

"Focusing, right. . ." I mumbled.

"I heard that," Greg replied.

"Are you sure you're not well enough to go with me?" I quipped. The sound of a fake groan drifted from the living room.

"So much pain. . ." I heard him mutter.

"The only thing painful here is your acting job," I countered. Seeing I wasn't going to get any help from him before we starved to death, I turned back to my latest foe, stairs. Dark, creaky old stairs, to be exact. I walked up and pressed my foot down on the lower step. The wood snapped like a twig beneath my weight, making me wonder if I'd gained that much weight and if the other steps would give up so easily. "Any other way upstairs?" I asked Greg.

"There's an old, dangerous lattice against the house outside you can try to climb."

"I meant a way that wouldn't try to kill me."

"Oh. None that I know of."

"Thanks. . ." I grumbled.

"You're welcome."

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the stairs. They loomed larger than life, or at least I swear they were taller and more of them than before. I sighed, gathered my courage, and tromped up the flight. The darkness up there was even darker than the darkness downstairs, and I stood at the top and peered down the hall. There were a few doors on either side and a broken window at the end. A slight wind whipped through the glass, and there were enough creaks and groans to make
me
ache.

"Which door is it?" I called down the stairs.

"No need to shout, I can hear you just fine from down here," he replied. "And it's the one on the right just above this room."

I crept along the old floorboards, mindful they didn't give way beneath my hefty weight, and opened the old door. Or rather, I tried to. The knob was so rusted it wouldn't turn, and when I put my shoulder against it the thing wouldn't budge. I scowled at my new foe. "If I had a chainsaw I'd make you into a toothpick," I threatened the door. It gave me the silent treatment, so I gave it the cold shoulder. Actually, most of my shoulder, along with my full weight behind it as I rammed myself into the door.

The door broke under my awesome power and crashed to the floor. I added insult to injury by gracefully slapping myself down on top of it and knocking the wind from my lungs. It was at that moment I questioned whether the box of food was really worth it, and whether Greg wouldn't have made a better meal. The only problem with that suggestion was I couldn't have started a fire with him, so I sat up and coughed through the thick layer of dust that floated around me. It was a simple square room with the chimney bricks peeking through the wall opposite the door.

I noticed a closet to my right, so I stood and walked over to it. Inside was the treasure I sought so long and desperately for. It was a metal box so encased in rust I wondered if it'd get tetanus just looking at it. Fortunately I'd had my shot not too long ago, so I heaved the heavy box out and looked it over. I was startled by a voice beneath me. "Have you got it?" Greg asked me.

I scowled down at the floor. "Yeah, and I nearly got myself a heart attack with you speaking up like that." I knocked my foot against the floor. "How thick are these floors, anyway?"

"Not thick enough for you to be-" Too late. My foot went clear through the floor and dangled in the air. I screamed and tried to pull it back, but no matter which way I turned it the foot wouldn't go back up the same hole. All the help I got from my hero was a wild cackle of glee at my predicament. "I tried to warn you," he wheezed through his laughter.

"And I'm going to warn you, watch out below," I snapped back.

"What? Why?"

"Because I can't get my foot out so there's only one way I'm getting downstairs." I don't know if I had better hearing then, or if it just really put on the breaks, but I swear I heard his heart stop.

"Don't do what I think you're-" Too late. I lifted my other foot and stomped that down on the rotted floor. The rest of me joined my trapped foot, but only for a second before me and a sizable hole in the floor tumbled down into the living room. It made for a hell of a noise and mess. I landed hard atop the broken boards with the heavy box on my gut. Thank god I had a lot of cushioning there. There wasn't any sign of my laughing hero. "You still alive under there?" I called to Greg.

"Yes, but that was really quite reckless of you," came his calm, muffled voice from beneath the rubble.

"Aren't werewolves supposed to be almost invincible?" I countered.

"Yes, but not impervious to pain, so would you mind getting off me?" he pleaded.

"You're not calling me fat again, are you?"

"No, honey, now please get off me before you crush what's left of my vertebrae." I felt so sorry for him that I burst out laughing, but got up, tossed aside the box and dug him out of the debris. He already looked better after his near-death experience with the silver bullet, except for the white dust all over him.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," I teased him.

"I just about gave it up, too," he quipped as I pulled him up. I rescued his chair, plopped him down near the fireplace, and used one of the broken boards to push the whole pile into a corner. He turned his head, cracked his head and winced. "Couldn't you have picked a better way to return to the room?"

"My foot was kind of stuck, and I didn't really want to go down that creepy hall again," I replied. I walked over to the box and opened the lid to find the same contents as the last one; clothes, food, and little trinkets. I glanced over my shoulder at him. "Did you hide all these boxes at the same time?" I asked him.

Greg shook his head. "No, just when I thought I'd need an extra place to hide."

"So you've been trying out for the Boy Scouts for a long time?" I teased him.

"Eh?"

"Always prepared."

"Oh, right, yes, I suppose I have. With my age I'd be one hell of an Eagle Scout by now."

"More like Grandfather Eagle," I countered. I grabbed some of the broken boards, went over to the fireplace and started a blaze.

"You're pretty good with fire," Greg complimented me.

"It goes with my hot body."

"That's an awful joke."

"Yeah, and kind of a lie."

"You put yourself down too much," he scolded.

"Yeah, well, at this rate Sphinx is going to put us both down even farther, about six feet under," I pointed out. I took a thick blanket out from the box and plopped my butt down beside his chair. "So what's the plan now? We keep running all over the state wondering when they're going to shoot us full of silver bullets?" I asked him.

"First we get me healed, and then we strike back at Sphinx and her gang," he replied.

"Sounds simple enough, but you forgot to mention the part where we both die horrible deaths trying to kill those gun-wielding guys," I pointed out.

"That's not really part of my plan."

"It will be if you want to go up against them."

"If we don't then we might be hounded by them for quite a while."

"That is a terrible pun."

"It was unintentional."

"I'm sure, but don't you have a better plan than finding them and us getting shot up?"

"You keep putting words into my mouth."

"I keep finishing your plan," I countered.

"I'd rather have a "And they lived happily ever after" sort of ending, and I have a plan to do it" he replied.

"Care to bring me in on it?"

"Well, it starts out with you walking into one of her other restaurants-"

"-with a rabbi and a preacher?" I sarcastically asked him. "Because if I'm going to be strolling into one of those places again I'm going to need a lot of prayers to stay alive."

"No, with your big, beautiful body in a sleek dress and me waiting in the ceiling to drop in on them," he told me.

"Wait a minute, why do I have to be the decoy?"

"Because I don't look good in a dress."

"And I don't look good in bullet holes, but that's what you're asking me to wear. Besides, you're a better talker than I am, and look good in a suit."

"Point taken, but I'll counterpoint by pointing out that they know I'm smooth and you're-well, you're-"

"-we'll just leave it at 'not' and be done," I warned him. "But I see another flaw in your plan besides me."

"Oh? What's that?"

"Any idea where another of her restaurants is?"

"Not right now, but we can sniff it out."

"Sounds like a fun way to die, when do we start?"

"Like I said, we won't die, and after I heal."

"And that'll be in a few days?"

"At most. We'll take the truck back to the city, sniff around and make our move at night."

"Sounds simple enough. What couldn't go horribly wrong?"

"Well, Sphinx could fall in love with you."

"That's-that's just not right."

"Don't swing that way?" he teased me.

"No, she and her goons tried to kill me, a lot, so the last thing I want is a reverse Stockholm Syndrome."

"Good because I don't want to share you with anyone. It doesn't make me happy."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, you've already shown me what makes you happy."

Greg leaned down and his breath tickled my ear. "It made you happy, too."

I sighed and pushed him away. "Yes, yes, it was fun, but now we have to stop acting like horny teenagers long enough to let you heal," I pointed out.

"But making me feel better will help me heal," he teased as he slid down off his chair. The look in his eyes reminded me of our last playtime, so I hurriedly scooted back to the edge of the very small blanket.

"Come on, Greg, focus."

"I am focusing."

"I meant on healing."

He inched closer to me and a smooth smile slipped onto his lips. "But that's no fun."

"But it is better for you."

His voice was low and sultry now, and I felt heat rise within me. "Exercise is better for me," he cooed.

Greg's face was only inches from mine, but I couldn't turn away. "Y-you're evil, you know that?" I whispered to him.

"Evil has more fun, anyway," he replied just before he pressed his lips against mine.

I fell under his hot, seductive spell with all the abandonment of that horny teenager. He glided his hands over me and I eagerly pressed myself against his bare chest. The fire crackled in front of us, imitating the flames inside us as he lowered me to the blanket. I squirmed and moaned beneath his touch, wanting more as I gave way to the beast inside me. His groans deepened and became more feral, and the noises heightened my own need for his touch and the feel of his bare skin against mine.

His hand slid down and unbuttoned my pants. He parted the flaps, and reached inside to touch and tease me. I moaned and arched my back, pressing my swelling breasts against his chest. They pushed and strained at the front of my shirt, begging for release and to be savored by his hot, wet lips. Greg grunted and tore open my shirt with one hand. Buttons flew everywhere, but I didn't care about anything but his mouth on my buds, suckling me like a starved man. I groaned and wrapped my arms around his neck. My fingers seductively toyed with his bulging muscles as I felt my own tense and tighten against the change inside and outside of me.