Night by Night Part Two: Pleasureful Vengeance
I had been counting down the days for the last 6 weeks, and finally it came: the trip to Purr la Perla I had been planning since July. I was riding up there with my lifelong friend Annie, who seemed wrapped up in thoughts as always. We passed the time by checking out the sights and making fun of the vapid, shallow pop stars on the local radio station. But during the quiet moments, I pondered the meeting to come with a sense of dread. I didn’t know if I would be able to keep my head around Vintage after all that happened.
Allow me to take a moment to explain before I continue: Vincent is my best guy friend. We have been friends for 4 years, and at one point were as close as siblings. But he began laying pressure on me to leave my mate, and I adamantly refused. So when his pack moved to Purr la Perla, he decided to embarrass me by publicly fucking my worst enemy, a fleabag bitch mutt unworthy of the name Werewolf. She fucked him over in the end of course, but I was still extremely angry over all that he had put me through because of her. I had gone into heat just the week before the trip, so I knew that whatever happened would not be pretty. But I didn’t care. All I knew was Need.
Annie and I arrived at Purr la Perla at around 5 PM on Friday, but didn’t find the apartment until 7:30 or so. Nevertheless, when we arrived and knocked on the door, we were given the warmest welcome possible.
“Come in!!!” shouted Tee, the elder of the household. Her son Eagle walked outside and got the suitcase Annie and I had brought with us. Then he set it inside the doorway and left, heading off to go spend the weekend with his buds. Tee showed Annie and I to Eagles room, where we would crash for the evening. Begging apology, I decided to go lay down and take a nap. The sun had been excruciatingly bright today, and had exhausted me much more then usual. Annie and Tee understood completely.
At around nine, I felt a pair of hands reaching around, caressing my stomach from underneath my T-shirt. At first I simply closed my eyes and enjoyed the caresses, but when I felt the hands slide under my bra, I wheeled around and blindly elbowed whoever was copping a feel. Then I turned and found myself giving the death stare to none other then Vincent.
“Well, good morning sunshine,” he replied sarcastically, smirking at me with those glittering sky blue eyes. I gave him the finger and yawned, arching my back, stretching my cramped limbs. His eyes followed every curve and movement of my body.
“For the love of Valhalla, Vincent, do you have a staring problem?!” I bitched, trying to take his attention from my body for three seconds at least. The last thing I wanted him to do was undress me with his eyes.