Nik spared his other hand to her hair. Raking his fingers up from the base of her skull till he had a fist full of her hair, he tugged.
“Come for me, wicked thing.” That’s all it took. Katarina cried out, the sound bouncing off all the counters. Her walls clamped down around him, and she was lost to the sensation. She heard him grunt a mangled version of her name. His hipssharply rutted against her backside. Warmth pooled in her belly and she was sated.
“Now…that’s how you feed a girl breakfast,” she teased.
“Fuck,” Nik wheezed, hands to her hips to ease her off the counter. Nik fell out of her and her cunt mourned the feeling of him immediately. Before she could reach for her jeans, she heard the chair behind her scrape across the floor. Glancing over her shoulder, she found Nik sitting in the chair, soft cock glistening in the early morning light across his thigh.
“Oh no…did I run you ragged?” She chewed on her bottom lip with her fangs out. Nik’s sharp eyes darted up to her in warning. But a coquettish Katarina was at the helm. She shimmied her jeans back up her hips.
“Keep it up and I’ll have you screaming face first into the mattress.” He waggled an exhausted finger at her.
“Mmm,” she hummed her disbelief. His face hardened, like he was about to make her eat the words she’d yet to say. “Not right now, you won’t.”
“My hands still work,” he growled.
“I bet they do,” she teased with a wink, sauntering away from the counter. A massive arm struck out before she could avoid it and curled around her waist. He yanked her cartoonishly, eliciting a yelp. Nik pulled her down onto his left thigh, dipped across the rest of his lap. Staring down at her, he smirked behind his tusks.
“You can backtalk Jessie all you like,” his words were soft rumbles that broke her out in goosebumps. “But beware you don’t brat your way into a raw backside, wicked thing.”
“Ooooh, big scary mechanic. Do you talk like that to Bubbles?”
Nik smashed his lips to hers. She grabbed him by the fur on his chest, ready to drag him in for round two…but someone knocked at the front door. Both of them broke apart with an annoyed sigh. Nik put Katarina back on her feet before he tucked himself into his pants. She took a single step to go answer the door, only to have a firm, heavy smack landed against her ass. Ittook all the air from her and filled her cheeks with a stinging blush.
Leaning down into her ear, he whispered, “Go clean yourself up, trouble. We’re going into the shop.”
Katarina huffed but he was already striding to the front door. She considered not doing it. Walking to the shop with dirty panties just to spite him.Affectionately.But, the succubus who treated her cunt like a high maintenance girlfriend knew better. She was about to go sit out in the sun and sweatily work on a rusty car…
I’m gonna need a new outfit.Katarina raced up the steps…still feeling the giddy buzz on her skin as she replayed his voice in her ear.Wicked thing.
Fourhours,that’showlong she was working on the bucket of rusty bolts that was the engine of her Reaper. Sweaty didn’t even accurately describe it. In a pair of dirty jean shorts, steel toe boots (just in case), a tank top that she long ago stopped adjusting to keep her boobs in check, and her hair up in a messy bun, she stopped being a succubus two hours in and morphed into a Mechanubus. A hyperfocused fiend with motor oil staining her fingers and her wings out to try and keep air flow. Her tail was whizzing around in tandem with her hands, handing her tools, moving things out of her way, or holding up a light.One would think with the sun blazing overhead I wouldn’t need one, but they’d be fucking wrong.She stole a bandana from Oats an hour ago and tied it like a headband to keep her hair out of her face. It was currently plastered to her forehead like she’d painted it on her sticky flesh.
And yet, despite all that, she felt more accomplished in those four hours than she had in a long time. She carved out the engine from rotten pipes and wires in a different car, cleaned out the pumps, and manually flushed the system. The Reaper wasn’teven remotely close to being done, but it was hollow. Nothing better than working on a project from scratch.
Katarina swiped the back of her arm across her forehead, smearing more oil across her skin. She happened to look up and catch shadows bounding over the fence. Eyebrows furrowed, the sun behind her, Katarina squinted at the back fence of the car graveyard. A fifth shadow bound over the fence and her mom instincts for danger went off like screaming sirens. Katarina reached down to the bucket of tools she borrowed from the shop, getting ahold of the thick tire iron. The weight of it in her palms was a much needed balm to her frazzled system.
Who jumps a car shop’s back fence?She glanced at the shop, seeing two bays empty and open. The front doors were still open. Mechanics waltzed about, Jessie and Nik with them, weaving between projects. When she followed the edge of the property, she knew the only thing outside the shop was grass and sidewalk. They were deep enough in the city that teenagers wanting to cut through someone’s yard to get where they wanted couldn’t be it either…As the only thing outside the yard was the shop or houses. Specifically…the Bonesaw house.
Katarina straightened up in her spot. From where she was, the gate door was in the way of anyone seeing into the graveyard, though she could see the shop and building easily. She stepped back from the Reaper, trying to catch the eye of any of the mechanics, but they were too far away. When she glanced back where the shadows hopped the fence, she found five men of varied height and builds waltzing in her direction.
The alarms in her head quieted to a dark, deep growl. Like that of a mother bear who spotted hunters near where her cubs were playing. It rumbled through her skull and down into her blood.
“Heyya toots!”
Oh you’ve GOT to be joking. Her upper lip curled into a mean snarl. “Toots?What are you? A fucking cartoon villain?”
The front man was a short, bulky human with a shaved head. He sported a faded tattoo around his neck and crossed his armsover his chest. The two men to his shoulders were large, bulging muscled minotaurs. A goliath and another human followed up the back of the pack, all of them sporting a similar tattoo on their neck. It was a tire with flames engulfing it and a skull on the hubcap.Motorcycle group? No. Drag racers? Who are these losers?
“You must be the red-haired bitch that’s been seen on Baby Boy’s arm.”
Katarina’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline.Ex-fucking-cuse me?A hand to her hip, the tire iron flashing in the sun as she draped it over the back of her sweaty shoulder, she inspected them with disbelief. “You havegotto be joking. You come into Jessie’s backyard and callmea bitch? You have some nerve.”
“Look, toots, this don’t have to get messy.” The ringleader smirked, stepping closer.Baby Boy? Jessie?Maybe it was some mechanic shop beef? That would explain the car decals on their skin, but not why they called Jessie that.Well, he’s the new owner right?She recalled Jessie mentioned he took over the shop from his father.Ah, so are these old enemies of his dad? Maybe?She hadn’t made it her business to put her nose in Jessie’s or Nik’s lives. She wasn’t intending, at first, to stick around. The bald headed fool licked his lips. “We just need Baby Boy to understand a few things.”
“Oh?” She snorted. The others stared her down with such vicious confidence, she wondered if they’d realized they were grossly outmatched. Katarina was a well-fed Succubus. Trained to control her abilities, but with about seven years of pent-up rage that wasitchingto crawl out of her. While she knew it wasn’t a good idea to lose her lid…Five burly men and just one of me?Katarina took a moment to put all their faces to memory.I’ll be damned if I let another man make me quiver in fear.“And what’s he supposed to understand?”
“He took something from a mutual friend of ours. And if he wants to touch our stuff? We’re gonna touch his back till hegives it back. Get the message?”
Well that didn’t clear anything up.Katarina needed to have a conversation with Jessie about what the goons in front of herwere talking about. Not only did she not know what they could mean by ‘touch their stuff’ but...they think I’m Jessie’s Stuff.She wasn’t anybody’s stuff. Katarina Witchbane was her own woman and that tire iron in her hand was justbeggingto be swung.
