As soon as their attention turned, Jude scurried off to find a garbage bag, quickly emptying her things from the industrial kitchen. They had agreed she needed to be prepared to leave by the night of the gathering, no matter what.
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner had come from her freezer full of prepared meals for the last several weeks, eating them down to free up the containers, to bulk up her weight and nourishment, to give her a fighting chance of fighting her way free. She still didn’t know where she would go, nor how she would survive when she got there, but at least her stash of non-perishables and cereal would keep her from starving when she got there.
“A week,” Lux whispered, as soon as the apartment door was locked behind her. “That’s plenty of time to be ready, princess.”
Jude nodded again, saying nothing. She’d not relax until the engines rumbled out of the parking lot, leaving them alone once more. Alone. That was all she wanted. The opportunity to get away from this place, away from these wolves, start over again, alone with Lux.
“Everything is going to be fine. And in the meantime, you’ve got a reason to go shopping.”
***
By the time the week had passed, Jude felt she was as ready as she would ever be, and just wanted to get the whole miserable experience over with.
She’d already packed and unpacked several times at that point — her threadbare clothes were being left behind, her favored leggings and tank tops tightly rolled and shoved to the side of her duffel, making space for some new pieces she’d purchased,draining what little was left in the account Vin’s uncle had given her. A few sweaters for colder weather, a pair of jeans, a new pair of sneakers. She’d replaced some things that were nearly worn out, bought herself some cute underwear and a waffle print robe, making her feel as though she were at some sort of spa. A handful of keepsakes she’d brought with her from home, a towel and the brand-new quilt from her bed, folded into a tight square and strapped over the top of her duffel with a belt.
Each time she checked out, she used the debit feature, requesting an extra twenty dollars on her total. Not enough to arouse suspicion, but enough to have padded the roll of cash in her tampon box nicely. She didn’t know where she’d end up, but she’d done her best to prepare.
Now the big night was here, and she was going out of her mind with worry. The thought of all that could go wrong left her breathless, while the notion of all that might change if Lux’s plan was actually successful made her dizzy. Butterflies crowded her chest in a riot of wings, her thoughts spinning as if she were stuck on an out of control carousel, thinking and rethinking of every worst case scenario, of all that might go wrong.
She needed to take the edge off her nerves if she wanted to perform adequately that night, for if she let herself continue to spiral in anxiety as she was, she would be tight with panic, telegraphing her every emotion, the same way Lux claimed the meatheads in the old man’s employee did. They would be there soon, setting up the room, so if she was going to take advantage of the stage one last time, she needed to do so quickly.
She stretched out on the floor and against the back of the sofa, finding music that was midtempo with a driving downbeat, perfect for shedding some of her anxiety. The pole in the club was static, fixed in place, and Jude thought that was probably best for her physical well-being, for if she’d had a spinner pole,there would’ve been no end to her spinoffs and mishaps as she practiced on her own.
Executing turns and spins on a static pole was what she was used to, but if she ever got out of this place, ever truly had a chance to be free and live her life, she thought she might like to take a class on the spinners, learn some new tricks and elevate her aerialist skills.
She’d created a routine for herself, choreographing a small floor section that incorporated some of her ballet moves, before taking to the pole. It was hard for her to understand how anyone could find this titillating: it was damn hard work, required a stupid amount of practice, and she would be sweating her ass off by the end of her routine.
The playlist had just looped over when she felt his presence in the room with her.
“You oughta take a seat down front,” she called out. “Beat the crowds while you can.”
He chuckled, melting out of the shadows in the corner of the room near the bar, his form rippling slightly as he made his way to the front of the runway. Jude swallowed hard, thinking of that day, that terrible day when he’d been sitting in the same spot.That’s all over now, she reminded herself.
“Why,” she began in a whisper one night, the tremors of her recent climax only just ebbing away she lay slack against him, her heartbeat setting in her mouth. “That day. Why did you stop me? Why . . . are-are you sure you want this? I don’t want you doing this just for me if you don’t enjoy it.”
She’d felt the icy exhalation of his breath against the top of her head, and the cool tip of the long black finger coasting down her spine.
“I didn’t want you to do something you might regret, little wolf. I’m not like your kind. I’m not like most people. But just because I’m not made of flesh doesn’t mean I don’t have desires.I’m not a hero, Jude. I’m nothing good. If you think I hadn’t thought about fucking you a million different ways before then, you’re delusional. But you’re young, and you’re in a vulnerable position. I didn’t want you making a mistake you’d regret a day after the full moon. And I didn’t understand what you needed.”
When she began to dance, she understood then. Understood why this was a sexual act for so many, understood the titillation. Dancing for his audience hit differently than dancing for herself, even when she knew he was in the room as she practiced. She was aware of the sway of her hips, the way her legs extended as she spun and left, aware of the extension of her arms as she made her way to the pole. She could feel his star-like eyes on her as she spun, extending a leg and pointing her toe up to the ceiling.
Jude realized that dancing for him was like walking beneath the full moon — she could perceive herself, was all too aware of the placement of her hands and feet, the way her breasts swayed as she spun, the heat of her sex beneath the weight of his gaze. Dismounting, she spun on her toes at the end of the runway, dropping to her knees in a crouch. She let her hair fall to either side of her face as she crawled towards him, keeping her body low, a wolf in pursuit of its prey.
She had never felt as in touch with her inner wolf as she did in that moment, her whole body tensed and ready to pounce, dismounting from the stage in a graceful arc. When she straddled his lap, Jude understood this time it was different. She wouldn’t need to hold that terrible day against him ever again, for now they both understood where they were and what they wanted, they both understood what the other was doing.
“I’ve been saving my dollar bills, princess,” he chuckled as she rolled her hips, undulating slowly on his lap.
Drawing the thin straps of her cami down, she folded the cotton to her waist, gripping his horns once more and rollingher head back until her hair brushed his knees. His cool breath tightened her nipples, his hands tightening on her hips, pulling her snug against the hardness between her thighs. She still wasn’t sure if he actually experienced genuine arousal or he simply liked the idea of pleasing her, but as long as he was doing it of his own volition, without feeling obligated, Jude decided she was going to enjoy it.
She rolled herself against the thick erection, raising up on her knees until her breasts were bumping his chin, buoyed by the rumbling growl that seemed to emanate from the center of his chest. She gripped his horns, pressing her upper body flushed to his chest, cursing her limited imagination. She would need to start reading multi-species romance novels, for her limited mind couldn’t even come up with interesting forms he might take for her when they were out of here.When we’re finally free, sky’s the limit.
For now though, she was limited by her lack of knowledge, and so she would simply have to make do with her own flexibility.
Lifting her leg, she hooked her calf around his neck, gripping his shoulders and lifting herself. Arching her back, she executed a walkover off his chair, giving him a slow striptease as she peeled down her leggings, pulling the half-discarded camisole over her head. When she reseated herself across his lap, his hands locked onto her hips, pulling her flush against him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her neck as she continued her lap dance. He wasn’t meant to be touching her, and she very nearly corrected him with a laugh, but his words brought her up short, as did the pressure of his mouth against her neck, trailing down the long column of her throat and sucking at the hollow where her pulse jumped against his tongue. He wasn’t supposed to be touching her, but there was nothing in the rulebook that said she couldn’t touch him.
The fitted suit he wore, like the form he took, was merely a projection. Sometimes it was a denser black than the rest of him, while other times it was his smoke gray against his pitch-dark form, but it was only ever there as he wished it to be there. When she scraped her nails down the front of his chest and over the solid plane of his abdomen, seeking lower and lower, the form of the suit was inconsequential, and she met the stiffened rod of his cock without any restraint.
