Mr. Peabody's House Read online

  The poor guy lay under her, frozen in place by indecision and a good dose of lust.

  Dale could understand that. Since the moment he’d met Brenda, he’d found himself shaken by all kinds of feelings and urges.

  Urges that didn’t involve protecting her pert little ass or guarding her banging body. No, things like grabbing that perfect butt, and caressing the sweet flesh filled his mind.

  I shouldn’t think of her like that. Shouldn’t, and yet he couldn’t help himself. It didn’t help that she flirted constantly in between her outrageous questions.

  And now, she’d committed the cardinal sin. Asked a werewolf in man shape if he had a tail.

  “Well?” she asked, cocking her head. She wiggled. “Is it big? Long? Thick?” She batted her lashes, her lips curved with wickedness.

  His voice husky and low, Sebastian said, “Perhaps I should show you.”

  Before Sebastian could indeed whip it out—and get a fist to his face because, for some reason, the idea of his friend touching this woman made Dale see red—Dale intervened, picking Brenda up and depositing her on the couch.

  “Behave,” he admonished.

  “Where’s the fun in that?”

  Where indeed?

  To avoid further distraction, Dale signaled to his friends. They headed across the room, as far as they could get from Brenda to regroup and recover.

  But her scent followed. It permeated every part of the space. Made him feel things. Things he shouldn’t feel for someone he was tasked with protecting.

  “That woman is a lunatic. I swear if I have to stay around her much longer, she’s going to drive me bat-shit crazy,” Mike admitted in a frustrated low voice.

  “Yeah, she is crazy, but damn, what a body,” sighed Sebastian with a longing look in Brenda’s direction. “I swear, she makes me want to…”

  He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to because Dale understood how he felt.

  He felt the same lust.

  For one woman.

  Sharing was supposed to be caring, but not when it came to chicks.

  Despite his close friendship with his brothers from another mother, Dale didn’t subscribe to the new world order where women indulged in reverse harems.

  In his world, a relationship involved one man, one woman.

  And if Dale couldn’t have her, neither could Sebastian. “Paws off the woman. You know we can’t do anything.”

  “But you heard her. She’s definitely interested.”

  “Give your head a shake. We can’t do her,” Mike snapped. “Mission. Remember?”

  “Temporary mission,” Sebastian corrected with a glance over at the girl.

  He had a point. Once the demon was caught, she wouldn’t be their responsibility any longer.

  She’d be free to do as she chose, and so would they.

  They could choose to chase her. Pin her.

  Lick her from head to foot.

  Claim her and make her mine.

  But only if he got to her first. Good thing he was fast on four feet.

  May the best wolf win.

  2

  How is a girl supposed to win over a werewolf when he won’t even come close?

  My initial euphoria over getting Sebastian to blush, and show with his body what he truly thought of me, didn’t last.

  As usual, my big mouth just had to get involved, and not in a way that saw me on my knees making him grab my hair and moan, “Oh my God.”

  Not to brag, but I really knew how to pleasure a cock. I blamed all the Popsicles I’d sucked over the course of my life.

  Not that I’d ever get a chance to show any of these guys my suction skills. I had managed in my usual elegant way to frighten off all the eligible men in the area.

  Look at the big bad wolves, clustered at the far end of the room, as if I had cooties. Didn’t they wear collars for that?

  Since they seemed more interested in each other than me, I studied the place I found myself in.

  The house was a definite bachelor pad—a solid, two-story brick residence on a quiet suburban street, only two blocks over from a dog park. Coincidence?

  The entire place had a guy vibe to it. From the scratched parquet floors to the furniture that didn’t match, it lacked a woman’s touch.

  Did this mean they were single? A lusty mind and body wanted to know.

  The walls were a dull beige, covered at random with framed prints of metal bands and sexpots: Guns ‘N’ Roses, Nine Inch Nails, and one of Harley Quinn and her bat.

  I’d dressed as her for Halloween. Got six marriage proposals that night. Three were for green card status, though, so they didn’t really count.

  An epic, man-sized television took up a huge chunk of wall and was longer than I was. No surprise, sitting under it were two game consoles. Xbox and PlayStation. I preferred a rousing game of Clash of Clans or Candy Crush myself.

  The coffee table, a battered wooden thing with one short leg propped on an unopened can of peas, had the surface covered in remotes, game cases, and a box of Hot Rods—the spicy pepperoni stick variety.

  The couch I sat on was some plaid monstrosity, huge, long, and surprisingly comfortable if shabby. It reminded me of the one in the fraternity I used to party at while in college, except this couch smelled of men’s cologne, not beer, weed, and sex.

  Speaking of sex, despite Sebastian’s erection, I really began to wonder if these three close friends were more than friends. I mean, hello, they lived together. Did they play hide the sausage when no humans were around?

  I didn’t have a problem with gay men. I just wished they’d tell me upfront so I wouldn’t waste my time trying to get in their pants.

  A phone rang, not mine, and Dale answered, too quiet for me to hear. Whatever was said caused a stir. Off they moved, all three of them sliding into the kitchen, my glimpse of the place brief as the door to the space swung shut after them.

  Left alone to my own devices—never a good idea—I decided, fuck this shit.

  Just because Chloe’s boyfriends thought her demon stalker might come after me wasn’t reason enough for me to stick around with three guys who obviously didn’t give a damn if I lived or died.

  And really, what were the chances a demon would come after me?

  Then again, if one did, at least I’d get more action than I was right now.

  Feeling ignored, and bored, which was usually my excuse whenever I got pulled in front of the principal and now my boss at work, I left.

  Walked right out that front door and marched down the steps and paused on the sidewalk, looking left and right.

  This late at night, not a single thing stirred. Nobody walked the sidewalks. The houses on the street were almost all dark. Only one had the blue, flashing glow of a television on behind closed curtains.

  Flagging a cab seemed unlikely, so I pulled out my phone and swiped my screen to find my Uber app.

  Before my ride could arrive, my departure was noticed.

  “Get back inside,” Dale ordered me.

  So funny. I didn’t do orders. Unless they were of the sexual variety. For some odd reason, I tended to have a submissive side when it came to sex.

  I checked my email.

  Someone didn’t like being ignored. Welcome to the club.

  “Brenda, I said get your ass back inside.”

  “No, thank you.” See, I did have some manners.

  Dale didn’t care. “Get back inside, right now.”

  He sounded like the father that didn’t stick around.

  I ignored him like I disregarded my own dad the rare times he came by to see me after he’d ditched my mother. A budding scientist who was going places, he didn’t have the time or inclination to deal with the woman he’d gotten pregnant. Deadbeat jerk. Knocked her up and then skipped town for college. Mother had me alone and died two weeks later in a fluke accident while taking me to the doctor’s for a check-up.

  Meemaw got custody, and my dad didn’t even fight her for
it. I owed everything to that crotchety old lady, and I knew what she’d tell me to do in this situation.

  Tell him to fuck off.

  But I was a lady—for the moment. So, instead, I gave him the silent treatment.

  There wasn’t any sound, and yet I knew Dale had come off the steps and stalked toward me using his super werewolf sneaking powers.

  I whirled and glared at him. “Stop right there.” Pulling my hand free from my purse, I aimed my can of pepper spray at him. A single girl never left home without it.

  He stopped and cocked his head. “You wouldn’t.”

  “You don’t want to dare me.” I could never resist a challenge. It got me in so much trouble in college.

  “Put the can down.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “Let’s go inside to talk about it.”

  He should have said the magic words, “Let’s go inside and get naked.”

  “No.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “The problem is that you and your boyfriends have made it obvious you’d rather do anything but watch over me.” Or do me. “So I’m going to fix the situation and leave.”

  “We promised to protect you.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, but I didn’t promise to let you do it. And I’m not in the mood to stick around where I’m not wanted. I’m sure you and your bros will be happy the human is going home.” I might have sneered the word.

  “Are you really peeved about Sebastian’s remark?” His brows rose in surprise. “You’re the one who wouldn’t stop with the dog jokes.”

  “I was asking about your habits because I think it’s cool. You’re the ones acting like I’m diseased or something. Treating me like I’m some desperate, pathetic human who can’t get laid.” Okay, the last part was on me, not them. Still, though, this evening could have been a lot more fun if they’d just all stripped and made me their Venus for the night.

  “We’re supposed to protect you, not seduce you. Pete would have our heads if we disrespected you in any way.”

  I blinked. “How is worshipping my body disrespectful?”

  A grin tugged at his lips. “Because doing dirty things would mean we’re shirking our responsibility.”

  “Does this mean we could do dirty things if you didn’t have to protect me?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Even if I’m human?”

  He shrugged. “Not your fault you’re not a bitch.”

  At that, I couldn’t help but snicker. “Dude, that is seriously fucked up.”

  “I would say that’s par for this evening. Now, would you please come back inside?”

  “No.” I whirled around and began to walk. No idea where I’d go. Didn’t care either.

  Dale didn’t let me get far. Sweeping in behind me, he simply grabbed me and upended me over his shoulder.

  For a moment, I was too shocked to act.

  Pleasure at his manhandling swept through me. About time he did something hot and exciting.

  Except he’d made it clear we weren’t going to have fun, so this was just him being bossy.

  I didn’t do bossy.

  I clenched my hands together and slammed him in the lower back.

  “Let me go.”

  He grunted but kept walking.

  I thrashed, undulating my body, kicking my legs, slamming my fists, yet he didn’t drop me. His arm remained firmly anchored over my thighs.

  “Put me down, Scooby-Doo. Right this instant,” I demanded. His barbaric manhandling was as arousing as it was frustrating because I knew he didn’t carry me back inside for debauchery.

  Since flailing didn’t work, I took a bite, a hard bite of flesh covered by a T-shirt.

  “Harder, baby. I don’t think you left a mark.”

  Not exactly the reaction I’d hoped for. So I resorted to more vile methods. I licked my finger and then contorted my arm, trying to wet willy his ear.

  Ducking his head, he exclaimed, “Don’t you dare.”

  I dared. My wet digit found its mark and wiggled.

  Smack.

  The firm spank on my bottom froze me.

  He spanked me?

  “Does this mean you’ve changed your mind about sex?” I asked, suddenly hopeful.

  “Behave, or I’ll do it again.”

  Did he think I was a child he could discipline?

  “Unhand me this instant,” I screeched. My annoyance levels had skyrocketed.

  It should be noted I wasn’t against spanking, in the right situation—that being naked and used as foreplay.

  But as a tactic to subdue me?

  Oh, hell no.

  “Don’t make me smack you again.”

  “Go ahead, and just for the record, you can forget doing any dirty things with me now, Scooby. I don’t like you at all.”

  “Funny, it doesn’t smell that way.”

  The fact that he could smell my arousal shut me up.

  Only once he made it back inside the house did he finally set me down.

  Then he thought he could order me around some more. He gave me a stern look and said, “You are not to—”

  “Excuse me, do you really think I give a damn what you have to say?” I didn’t allow time for a retort. I threw myself at him.

  Small but mighty, that was what my coach called me. A touch over five feet meant I lived in almost perpetual height disadvantage. So my private self-defense tutor, paid for by Meemaw when I came home crying one day about the boys teasing me at school—back when I wore glasses and braces and sported a terrible case of acne—taught me how to fight dirty.

  Also known as winning against bigger, more muscled odds.

  What my instructor didn’t teach me was how to take down a werewolf.

  The fucking guy just stood there taking my hits. Since he was tall, my jabs to his face barely rocked him. His rock-hard stomach didn’t dent at my punches—and my fist throbbed after a particularly solid hit.

  So I whacked him in the solar plexus. That got him to gasp, and my knee went straight for his jewels.

  “Fucking hell!” he bellowed.

  I smiled with triumph instead of escaping and thus found my arms seized behind my back in a firm grip.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Mike snarled.

  Lots of things, apparently. I rammed my head back but didn’t do much damage against his chest. But my foot had no problem slamming his instep, drawing a sharp cry from Mike.

  “That’s enough, kitten,” Dale yelled.

  Kitten? Was he trying to soften me up with a cute nickname? “I am not your pussy.” I stared at Dale defiantly.

  “Are you sure? Because you certainly spit and yowl like one,” Mike interjected.

  “Let me go so I can scratch your eyes out,” I hissed.

  “Can’t we all just get along?” Sebastian asked.

  “No!” We might have hollered it in tandem.

  “Let her go,” Dale ordered with a wave of his hand.

  “She’s a menace to society.”

  “I’m pretty sure we can handle her.”

  Ha, that’s what he thought.

  Mike loosened his grip, and I thanked him by ramming my elbow in his gut.

  While Mike cursed under his breath, I announced, “I’m leaving.” I went to move past Dale, but he sidestepped me.

  “You can’t go yet. It’s not safe.”

  “It’s not safe here either.”

  “We haven’t harmed you. You, on the other hand, seem to be doing your best to hurt us.”

  What could I say? I’d lost my delicate fucking flower gene somewhere along the way. “Maybe if you weren’t trying to keep me here against my will, I wouldn’t have to resort to protecting myself.”

  “What are we supposed to do when you won’t listen to reason?”

  I tilted my chin. “I want to go home. And as a grown woman, that is my choice. So unless you’re going to sit on me all night, you can’t stop me.”

  “Actually,
I can stop you. Mike. Get the rope.”

  Rope?

  What?

  Once again, my mouth got me in trouble.

  In short order, despite all my best fighting moves—and I pulled out some doozies that left bruises, a fat lip, and a possible black eye by the morning—I was tethered, both arms stretched to the side and overhead, to the headboard of a bed.

  Fully clothed.

  And then left alone.

  Could this evening get any worse?

  Sebastian Interlude

  The screaming invectives, a non-stop litany of things Brenda would shove into holes that never saw the sun, erupted in a steady stream. Some of them quite imaginative, and painful.

  Sebastian couldn’t help but stare at the ceiling, a twinge of guilt making him wonder if they’d done the right thing. “Do you really think we needed to tie her up?” As far as he was concerned, the only time restraints should be used was in the presence of massage oil, dim lighting, and feathers.

  “We didn’t have a choice. The brat is awfully feisty.” The almost admiring words came from Mike, which caused Dale to arch a brow.

  “A compliment at last?”

  The scowl quickly returned. “Just saying she’s no pushover. Doesn’t mean shit.”

  “Holy shit, you think she’s hot,” Sebastian prodded.

  “If you like bite-sized morsels.”

  “I do believe that’s a yes.” Which kind of fucked with Sebastian’s plans to ask the girl out. He’d taken a shine to her, but if Mike had, too…that could cause friction.

  “What Mike thinks doesn’t matter. We’re still on protective detail,” Dale reminded.

  Protective and investigative. Before the call arrived for Dale and his crew to protect one delectable ass, they’d been assigned to help investigate a series of murders.

  A bunch of dead witches usually wouldn’t bother the Lycan community, except the thing doing the killing wasn’t being subtle about it. There were certain rules the non-humans had to follow, and one of them was: don’t leave a mess.

  But if a demon were doing it, then it probably hadn’t gotten that memo. Speaking of which, was it just Sebastian, or was there something inherently wrong about demons walking the earth?

  “Can we stop focusing on the girl and try to get back to business? Did we ever get a report back on who blew up the warehouse?” Mike asked.

  In the course of their secret investigation into the witch murders, a tip had come in, telling them to check out a certain derelict building down in the factory district.