Author: Q’at

Disclaimer: “Hellboy” is a copyrighted character belonging to Mike Mignola and Dark Horse Comics. I didn’t create him (I just made him better.) Jennifer Styles and Clark are products of my own twisted imagination. This story contains sexually explicit material. If you get a raging case of “stone gullion,” don’t blame me. (But you can thank me at catfitz4@netzero.com.)
 

Demon Lover

Part Two

Pacing the floor of her small Newark townhouse, Jen glanced once more at the cat-shaped clock perched atop the TV. The sun had set hours ago, yet still no sign of Red. God, what if he doesn’t come? What if they caught him trying to sneak out again? What if he got called up for another mission? What if—?

A knock at the door.

Her heart leapt with anticipation. She rushed to the door, pulled it open— Darkness filled the void. Confused, she peered outside. “Red?” she whispered.

Without warning, a bouquet of flowers shot up in front of her—clutched in the grip of a six-foot-long prehensile tail. Startled, she jumped back. “Damn it, Red, you nearly scared me to death!”

He stepped into full view, his massive form completely filling the doorway. “Hope you like zinnias,” he said, grinning. In his other hand was a half-rack of beer.

She snatched the flowers from his snaking tail. “Yes, I do. And so does Mrs. McCready, the woman whose garden I’m guessing these came from?”

Concealed beneath the leather trench coat and black T-shirt, his enormous shoulders twitched upward. “I don’t think she’ll miss a few.”

“Well, thank you anyway. I’ll put them in water.”

He followed her inside and closed the door behind him. Fidget, her orange tabby, was on his shoulder in an instant, purring and rubbing against the side of his head. “Well, there’s my girl,” he remarked in an almost cooingly affectionate tone as he scratched the enamored feline’s chin.

Jen couldn’t help smiling at the sight of this nearly-seven-foot-tall, three-hundred-plus- pound, muscle-bound goliath that was speaking baby-talk to her cat. But then, Red most definitely had a thing for cats. And they, obviously, had a thing for him.

The cat still perched on his shoulder, he turned to Jen. “Sorry I’m late. Last minute staff meeting. You know how that goes. Hey, you feel like pizza tonight?”

“Sure.” She set the vase containing the colorful flowers on the bar. “There’s a menu for a delivery place next to the phone,” she told him.

He picked up the folded sheet, glanced through it. “Whadaya like?”

“Anything but anchovies.”

“Hmph, coward.” He placed the call. “Yeah, I need six number twos, five number sixes, and four number sevens. All large. And on those number sixes, hold the onions.”

Jen stared at him in shock. “Red, that’ll cost a fortune!” To this point, all the eating they had done was at the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense complex, courtesy of a government-funded program that even the president didn’t know about. And while she didn’t mind paying her fair share, she had seen the way this guy could put it away.

“Relax, baby,” he said, setting Fidget on the back of the sofa. “Tonight it’s on me.” From the front pocket of his black leather pants, he produced an impressive wad of cash.

She stared at the thick pad of bills. “I don’t mean to sound indelicate, but where the hell did you get that much money?”
“Guess you could say it’s my allowance. I told the boys at the Bureau if they didn’t cough up a little spending cash, I’d take a picture of myself and send it to the National Enquirer.” The corner of his mouth curved upward in a sly half-grin. “Apparently, I’m worth a thousand bucks a pop. Besides…” He came toward her, stood so close she could feel the heat of him through his shirt. The golden eyes glowed warmly as he peered down at her, traced her cheek with his fingertip. “Now that I’ve got a girlfriend, I need to be able to treat her right.”

His nearness was intoxicating. “Oh, I’m your girlfriend, am I?”

He slipped his left arm around her back and pulled her close. “Yeah, you gotta problem with that?”

Rising up on her toes, her breasts pressed firmly against him, she kissed his black chin whiskers. “You’d be the first to know.”

He drew back. “I, uh, didn’t have time to clean up before coming here. Mind if I catch a quick one while we’re waiting for the pizza?”

“Sure, go ahead. I’ve got fresh towels in the dryer.” After feeding Fidget, she went to the utility alcove, removed several still-warm bath sheets and placed them in a basket. With the basket secured under one arm, she returned to the kitchen. If she knew Red, he’d want a beer before dinner. And during. And after. Then a couple more before bed. Oddly enough, as much as he drank, she had never seen him drunk. It was as if the alcohol had no effect on him. But then, any guy who could walk through fire and not so much as singe a whisker probably wouldn’t be affected too much by mere intoxicants.
She set the laundry basket on the kitchen counter. “What kind of beer do you want?” she called to him.

“Whatcha got?”

Opening the refrigerator door, she looked inside. “Bud, Coors, Heineken?”

“Ok.”

“Which one?”

“Yeah.”

Smiling, she shook her head then gathered up the basket and headed toward the bathroom. A thick cloud of steam boiled around the edge of the partially open door. One thing about him, he sure as hell liked it hot. No pun intended, she thought with a touch of humor.

Scarcely able to see, she placed the towels next to the sink. “About that beer, smart-ass, you want me to just mix them all toge—?” She paused in mid-sentence, mouth open at the sight before her. He was sitting scrunched up in the tub, the water pouring in full blast. But that wasn’t even the half of it. Fighting to keep from laughing, she asked, “What are you doing?”

“Takin’ a bath, what’s it look like?” His expression was pure innocence. “What, you never saw a guy take a bath before?”

“Sure, but…a bubble bath?”

He shrugged and scooped up a handful of lavender-scented foam. “Never tried it. Hope you don’t mind.”

The first giggle escaped her lips. “Um, you have a little…” She gestured to the top of his head where a fluffy dollop had come to rest.

He casually wiped it off and smiled. “Ya know, sweetheart…” His voice was a darkly seductive purr. “There’s room in here for both of us, if you sit right here.” Like a glistening, red serpent, his tail rose up between his knees, beckoning to her.

A heat began deep inside her, the throbbing ache she couldn’t ignore…didn’t want to ignore. “I think it might be a tad too hot for me in there,” she replied, grinning.

“It could get a lot hotter, baby.”

She took a step toward him, fingers curled around the hem of her blouse, lifting it upward…

The doorbell rang.

Red tilted his head back, eyes closed. “Aw, crap.”

With a sigh, Jen paused and lowered her blouse. “That was fast.”

“Too damn fast,” he muttered.

“Sorry, sweetie,” she told him, removing the wad of bills from his discarded pants. “We’ll have to play dock the submarine some other time.”

Her own frustration gradually subsiding, she straightened her blouse before answering the door. The next two-point-three seconds were like a nightmare frozen in time.

“Hello, Ms. Styles.”

Surprise shot through her like a jolt of electricity. Surprise turned instantly to revulsion as she beheld, not the pizza delivery kid, but Clark Daniels, one of the BPRD’s electronics technicians—and a sleazy son of a bitch on top of it. Of all the staff at the Bureau, he ranked highest on her list of class-A assholes. And the last person on earth she ever expected—or wanted—to see standing on her doorstep.

Fear, confusion, suspicion, dread bombarded her thoughts. It was several frantic heartbeats before she could speak. “How—how did you find out where I live?”

The scrubby, two-day growth of whiskers spread outward as he smiled. “Hell, Jen, it didn’t exactly take a detective. Just a couple of bus transfers.”

She narrowed her gaze upon him. “You followed me? Jesus, Clark, that’s the lowest—”

But before she could complete the sentence, the tabby darted between her feet. “Fidget, no!”

With remarkably swift reflexes, Clark reached down and grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck. Fidget let out a bloodcurdling yowl and turned into a furry orange ball of rage. “Fucking little—!” He hurled the animal into the apartment then pushed past Jen and closed the door. “That’s some nasty little beast you’ve got there,” he remarked, examining the scratches on his wrist.

Thoughts racing between concern for her pet and indignation at Clark’s brusque intrusion, she glared at him. “Get out of here now!”

He took a step closer. “Come on, Jen. I’m a nice guy once you get to know me. And I’d really like for you to get to know me.”

“When Hell freezes over.”

“Interesting choice of words, considering where you’ve been spending your time,” he chuckled. “But you see, I think that’s the problem. You’ve been hanging around the wrong kind of people, and I use the term loosely. What you need is some human companionship.”

A chill of foreboding shivered through her. God, did he know Red was there?

Swallowing the knot in her throat, she stood her ground. “Clark, so help me god, if you don’t leave this very minute—”

A smirk stretched across his features. “You’ll do what? Report me to the Bureau? Listen, honey, my uncle works for one of the biggest fucking defense contractors in the country. He got me the job with the Bureau of Paranoid Retards. Would you like to see how fast I can get you banned from ever setting foot in that place again?” He tilted his head to one side in a show of mocking concern. “Now, wouldn’t that be a shame? No more visits to see your big, red monster.”

“Stop calling him that!” she hissed through clenched teeth. “He’s more of a man than you could ever hope to be.”

He merely laughed at her. “Jesus Christ, Jen, do you actually believe that thing is capable of real feelings?”

“Of course he is. He’s also caring and honest.” Her eyes narrowed. “Unlike some people I could mention.”

“Really?” His expression turned thoughtful. “Then I suppose he told you he has a lover.”

Wha—? She struggled to contain her reaction.

Clark’s eyebrows jerked upward. “Oh, you didn’t know that? Well, so much for him being honest. You’ve even seen her. Liz Sherman, that fire-starting freak. Quite a tasty dish, huh? They’ve had a thing going for years. The entire goddamn complex knows about it. Hm, I wonder why he didn’t tell you. Could it be he’s trying to start some kind of satanic harem, create a new generation of demonic half-breeds?” He leveled his gaze upon her. “Has he cast his spell on you too, Jen? It’s alright. I can help you…provided you’re very nice to me…”

That was enough! “Get out of here! Get out! Get OUT!” She turned and reached for a heavy bronze cat statue on the bookcase. It wasn’t necessary.

“The lady asked you to leave, ass-wipe.” Red stepped around the corner at that moment. Dressed only in a bright pink bath towel, he stared down at the man.

Naked terror flashed across Clark’s countenance. “Holyfuckingshit!” He stumbled backward, tripped over an end table and slammed into the wall. “W-what’s he doing here? How’d he get out?”

The strange-colored eyes wide and glaring, Red stalked closer. “I got hungry, Clark. So I went out looking for human flesh.”

Sweat trickled down the man’s temples. “D-d-don’t hurt me! Please!”

Red towered over the quivering tech. “Whatsa matter, Clark? Never been this close to a real, live monster before?”

Trembling, on the verge of tears, Clark squeezed his eyes tight. “Jesus, Mary, Joseph!”

“Man, are you in the wrong neighborhood,” Red chuckled. “You were better off with holyfuckingshit.”

For the first time in her life, Jen actually began to feel sorry for the little weasel. “Red, just let him go.”

“Why, so he can tell everybody what he saw?”

Clark shook his head violently. “I won’t tell, I won’t tell, I swear, I won’t tell!”

“Now, I wish I could believe that,” Red murmured. “But you see, Clark, you’re a rodent, and I just don’t trust rodents.” As he spoke, his tail slithered up the man’s body, caressed the side of his face.

“Oh, god—! Please, I won’t say anything!”

“Seems to me you’ve said way too much already. Maybe it’s time to silence you permanently.” Coiling the end of his tail around Clark’s scrawny neck, Red began to squeeze.

Jen grasped a powerful bicep. “Red, don’t.”

He paused, still glowering at Clark. “Ya know what I really hate about guys like you? There’s just no sport in killing ‘em.”
His tail still wrapped around the man’s neck, Red hauled him toward the door. Before throwing him outside, he lifted the gasping tech off the ground, confronted him nose-to-nose and remarked with a toothy smile, “Bye-bye, Clark. See ya back at the complex.” With that, he hurled him through the opening and onto the concrete walk.

Shoving the door closed, he turned to Jen. His expression softened immediately. “You ok?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“How ‘bout Fidget?”

Jen nodded. “She’s fine, just pissed. She really nailed him though.”

The side of his mouth quirked upward. “Good.”

“Red…you weren’t really going to kill him, were you?”

“Naw, just wanted to scare the shit out of him.”

She wrinkled her nose and sniffed. “I think you succeeded.”

Smiling, he folded her into his embrace. She breathed a sigh. He smelled of lavender bubble soap. The ordeal was over, but several nagging questions remained.

Almost afraid to look him in the eye, she ventured, “Those things Clark said about you and Liz. Is it true?”

The great span of muscles across his chest rose and fell. “It…was.”

“Was?”

“Yeah. She…she kinda dumped me.”

“Oh.” She struggled to conceal her relief. “I’m sorry, Red. I know how that hurts.”

“Hell, I shoulda seen it coming,” he replied, doing his best to sound cavalier. “I guess you could say we had philosophical differences.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged. “The usual stuff.” His tone sobered. “She wanted kids.”

“And you didn’t.”

“She wanted normal kids. The kind you don’t have to hide away in some secret underground facility. The kind you can take to movies and ball games and show off to the neighbors.” He breathed a shallow sigh. “As far back as I can remember, all she ever wanted was a normal life, a normal family. A normal guy.”

Jen could feel the intensity of his pain radiating from him. “Red, I really am sorry.”

He reached up and stroked her hair. “Maybe I always knew it couldn’t last. Liz can have any guy she wants. Why would she settle for—”

“Red, don’t. Don’t say it. Don’t even think it.” Arms wrapped firmly about his muscular torso, she pressed her head against his chest, heard the strong beating of his heart, perhaps the only part of him that truly could be broken. “It’s not fair.”

He nuzzled the top of her head. “Life ain’t fair, baby.”

No, it wasn’t. Especially for him. After all he had been through, all he had done to protect those who didn’t even know he existed, he wasn’t permitted to receive the sweetest reward of all.

Taking his hand, his right hand, his massive stone club of a hand, she led him to the sofa and motioned for him to sit. Then, standing behind him, she began massaging the great swell of muscles that spanned his broad shoulders. He groaned and let his head fall back against her. A dollop of bubble soap still clung to the twist of black hair he kept tied up at the back of his head. She smiled and brushed it away. He was so amazingly contradictory. So amazingly amazing in every way. How could anyone not love him?

As she slid her fingers down across his magnificent chest, she leaned forward and rested her cheek upon the smooth crown of his head. “Do you think Clark will say anything?”

He laid his hand on top of hers, pressed it close to his heart. “I don’t think Clark’ll be able to say much of anything coherent for several days. And even if he does, what’re they gonna do, fire me? Send me to bed without supper?”

“Hm, I’ve seen you eat. That might just work.”

“Hey, whose side are you on?”

She kissed the pointed tip of his ear. “Your side, Red,” she whispered. “I’ll always be on your side.”

His chest swelled. “Maybe it’s not my side I oughta be worried about,” he muttered.

She frowned. “You think they might do something to me?”

“It’d be a helluva lot easier to keep you out of the complex than to keep me in.”

A chilling possibility then occurred to her. In terms of paranormal defense, Red was still the government’s most top secret weapon. If they ever suspected that she might become a security risk, there was no telling what they would do to keep her quiet.

He must’ve sensed her anxiety, for he raised his hand and stroked the side of her face. “Hey, kiddo, don’t you worry. Big Red’s not gonna let anything happen to you. They take one step outta line, I’m gonna go Apocalypse all over their sorry asses.” He made a fist with his granite hand. “And I’m just the guy that can do it.”

Twining her arms around his neck, she pressed her cheek to his, serene in the knowledge that he would indeed do anything to protect her.

The doorbell rang.

“Hot damn, pizza’s here! I’ll get it!” he cried, leaping from the sofa.

“Like hell you will!” Before he was clear of her reach, she snatched the towel from around his waist, rendering him stark naked.

“Hey, baby! I was only joking.”

Grinning broadly, she chucked the wadded towel under her arm. “Gotta be quicker than that, big guy.”

She waited for him to make a tactful exit before gathering up the money—dropped during Clark’s visit—and answering the door. After relieving the delivery kid of his burden, she counted out the money then handed him a ten-dollar tip, certain that Red would’ve wanted it that way.

Every moment she spent with the big lug was a new and exciting chapter in her personal book of Revelations, as she called it. Whether he was eating pizza—five slices at a time—or getting buzzed sniffing one of Fidget’s catnip toys, he was the most eccentrically endearing person she’d ever met. He spoke several languages, a few of which nobody—nobody living, that is—had even heard of. He was a walking encyclopedia of diabology and demonographical information. Yet in most ways, he was still just a typical guy. He positively adored The Three Stooges, thought Dumb and Dumber was a cinematic masterpiece, and could recite most of the lyrics to Some Enchanted Evening in belch-eze.

What made him not typical was his action in the bedroom. Just the thought of what he could do to her in that capacity sent icy-hot shivers tingling through her body, turned her knees to jello, and rendered her a complete blithering idiot. Oh, yeah, he messed her up good. Hell, he messed her up great. These “close encounters of the Biblical kind,” as Red liked to call them, had become the focal point of their relationship, not that there was much else they could do in terms of a having relationship, all things considered. And yet, as inter-species interaction went, it was pretty damn good.

But with this elevated level of intimacy had come an elevated level of misgiving. It wasn’t the usual kind of emotional baggage, that old “he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not” drivel. Fact was, her relationship with the-being-formerly-known-as-Hellboy was far too weird for anything that puerile. No, it wasn’t what he was that caused her discomfort, but rather what he did. Simply put, he was a monster hunter. And the very thought of him pitting his life against every manner of fiend in demonic creation flat scared her shitless. Still, it was his job, a job he took very seriously. And he had the scars to prove it.

Seated on the sofa next to her, he downed his one hundred-sixteenth piece of pizza, chugged the last half-gallon of beer, then stuck his thumbs into the elastic waistband of the Hawaiian print shorts and breathed a contented sigh. “Oh, yeah. That hit the spot.” He’d started keeping a pair of shorts at her place for casual wear; his way of “staking his territory,” he told her.

Throwing her a furtive, sidelong glance, he grinned and said, “Hey, baby, pull my tail.”

Jen recoiled. “Oh, gross! I’m not falling for that again!”

“Ok, ok, just kidding,” he chuckled. He picked up the TV remote and began flipping through the channels. “Seen it, seen it, seen it, hate it, seen it, hate it…hmmm, Playboy channel.”

She snatched the device away from him and pressed the off button. “Red, we need to talk.”

“Uh-oh, that’s almost never good.”

“No, it’s not like that. I was just wondering…” She turned round on the sofa to face him. “That staff meeting you were at tonight… They’re sending you on another mission, aren’t they?”

He pressed his lips together and nodded. “Yeah, kinda looks that way.”

“Where this time?”

“Africa. A village near Kimbutu. Something about mysterious fissures opening up in the ground, lava creatures, toasted livestock. The usual.”

“Right, the usual.” Concern pinched her brow. She slid over next to him, laid her head against his bare shoulder. “I know we’ve talked about this before, and I know it’s your job, but I still hate the thought of you leaving.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Gotta do what they pay me to do, babe.”

That was a running joke of his. Truth was, they didn’t pay him a solitary cent for any of the life-endangering services he provided. He got his subsistence and that was all. For most of his life he had been kept locked in a vault in the basement of an abandoned fallout shelter; his bed used to be the back of a dismantled pick-up truck. And yet, even if they did pay him, it wasn’t as if he could spend it on a night on the town. He lived in a state of strictest secrecy, his very existence being denied by those who utilized—Red despised the word exploited—his talents.

Gliding her hand over the two great pectoral swells, she sighed. In all fairness, his living conditions, at least, had improved. She liked to think she had had some influence in that department. He had a real bed now, along with furniture that didn’t say “Ford” anywhere. But in spite of the material amenities, he was still a prisoner by virtue of his very existence. Except for those all-too-rare occasions when he could sneak out to be with her. Like tonight. She intended to make the most of it, for both their sakes.

He slipped his arm around her and pulled her close. “Hey, you gonna be ok?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Neither of us does, I guess,” he remarked with a shallow sigh.

The last thing she wanted was to cast gloom upon their time together. Flopping herself across his lap, she gazed up into his cat-like eyes. “Hey, you wanna do something kinky tonight?”

A look of intrigue lit his broad features. “You’re talkin’ my language, sweetheart. Whatcha got in mind?”

“Let me paint your hooves.”

The smooth brow ridge above his eyes jerked upward. “What?”

“Yeah. I think it’d be cute.”

He narrowed his gaze at her. “Something about the word cute makes me nervous.”

“C’mon. Who’s gonna see it?”

“Me, for one. Besides…” A look of modesty passed over his countenance. “You know how I feel about…that.”
“That” meant those physical attributes which set him apart from the rest of humankind. Exquisite a being as he was, Red was still very self-conscious about his appearance as well as his origins. Sadly, he didn’t know where he came from. Neither did anyone else. Sure, there was plenty of speculation from the scientific to the superstitious, but nothing conclusive. Maybe he had come from Hades. Or maybe he was dragged through a trans-dimensional tear in subspace. She’d seen enough Star Trek episodes to believe anything was possible. Still, only one thing was certain: He was a living, breathing, feeling, caring person. And she loved him.

Reaching up, she combed her fingers through the long, black whiskers that covered his jaw line, “Well, I for one happen to think you have very handsome feet.”

“Uh, right.”

“I’m serious. Would you rather be stuck with a bunch of pudgy, ugly piggies like these?” She kicked off a furry slipper and splayed her toes in front of him. “Gross, huh?”

He gave a snort of amusement then crossed his legs, displaying the black, cloven alternative to toes. “Yeah, I guess they do look pretty fragile,” he quipped, tapping the calloused sole of his foot against hers.

“Oh, and you wouldn’t believe the pain from being stubbed and mashed. And don’t even get me started about high heels.”

His brows dipped downward in mock sympathy. “Poor kid, you must really go through hell.”

“It’s a terrible burden, yes,” she sighed. “You’re so lucky you’ll never know what that’s like.” Reaching out, she ran her hand down his shin, over his foot, fondled the smooth, bone-hard hoof. “So, whadaya say? Something in a nice chartreuse…?”

He gave her a diabolical scowl. “How ‘bout I just throw you over my shoulder and pack you off to the bedroom?”

She twined her arms around his neck and toyed with the twist of black hair at the back of his head. “You know… You really should be glad you have cloven hooves.”

His forehead creased as he peered down at her. “Why’s that?”

“Don’t you remember? The Bible says we can eat those kinds of animals.”

“Well, according to the Book of Doittomeraunchy, you can eat anything you like, baby. Now me, I’m kinda partial to seafood. And right now I could go for a nice, hot fish taco.”

With a growl, he lifted her into his arms—as easily as she lifted her own cat—and rose from the sofa. Cradling her against his powerful chest, he carried her into the bedroom. At the edge of the bed he paused and pressed his lips to hers. His warmth filled every part of her. She closed her eyes, felt the sweet euphoria flowing through her.

He glanced up suddenly. “Oops, almost forgot. Gotta brush.” With that, he dropped her unceremoniously onto the mattress and turned to leave. She let out a little yelp of surprise.

Pausing in the doorway, he cocked his head at her. “Sorry, kiddo. First things first.”

She waited for him to return before making her own departure to the bathroom. “You’re weird, you know that, don’t you?” she remarked in passing.

“Weird, me?”

“Yeah. You know how many guys wouldn’t give a rip about brushing their teeth?”

He lifted his brows and gazed down his nose at her. “I was taught the importance of good dental hygiene. Besides, I thought you were into weird.” With that, he smacked her ass with the end of his tail.

Jen glanced about the lavender-scented bathroom. Tooth paste tube, capped. No bits of goop in the sink. Towel hung up. Toilet seat…? Down! God, she couldn’t believe her eyes. This was not the same guy she had met several months ago. That guy was a regular slob. Not that she could blame him. After all, he had spent his formative years growing up on a restricted Army base in the middle of the New Mexico desert. And since then he had been left pretty much to his own habits and inclinations. Without a mother’s tempering influence, how could he help but grow up to be a typical MALE?

She squeezed a line of tooth paste onto her brush. At least Professor Broom, the man who had filled the role of adoptive father, had schooled him in the finer points of personal grooming. But this sight before her, this was a transformation of miraculous proportions! Was it merely a show of respect for her turf, she wondered. Or was his motivation rooted in something much deeper?

The thought sent a quiver through her stomach. She and Red had never talked about feelings, not the gooshy kind at least. It had always been “understood” that they would keep things light and loose and free of emotional complications. After all, for christsake, where could a relationship like this possibly go? What she had with him was phenomenal, and one hell of an adrenalin rush. But was that all she wanted? Maybe even more important, was that all he wanted?

After applying a dab of perfume and slipping into her turquoise nighty, she headed back to the bedroom. The room was dark, except for the gentle flickering of several vanilla-scented candles. Red was sprawled across the mattress, on his back, hands clasped behind his head, a blanket covering him from the waist down. And jutting upward like a damn church spire between his legs was a four-foot “erection”.

Jen came to a halt, hands on hips, and shook her head. “Even if I did think that was your dick, I sure as hell wouldn’t let you get anywhere near me with a thing like that.”

A chuckle rumbled deep in his throat. “How ‘bout a little ‘tentacle hentai’ tonight, baby?” He made the thing wiggle beneath the covers. “I can do stuff with this you’ll only see in cartoon porn.”

The idea did, in fact, intrigue her. She liked her men inventive. But then, she’d never had one with a tail before. “Maybe we should just stick to the basics,” she told him.

“Hey, sweetheart, I’m as basic as they come.” A lascivious smile contradicted the innocence of his demeanor.
Basic my ass! Even without the tail, he was the most non-basic guy on earth. Probably anywhere else, for that matter. With a cock that curved the wrong way, the extra-wide head covered by a series of raised nubs, he was nothing short of a walking, breathing, g-spot pummeling, sexual carnival ride.

She took a step toward the bed. Just the sight of him lying there, waiting for her, made her nipples tingle and stiffen beneath the thin satin nightgown. His eyes grew wide and luminous at the subtle movement. “Come to papa,” he murmured, his voice deep and sultry.

Tossing back the covers, she exposed him in all his blazing erectile glory. Yes, he was magnificent. And he knew it. Completely naked, utterly immodest, he lay there with a smug half-grin as she crawled across the mattress and straddled his thick-muscled waist. Already wet with anticipation, she slid her juicy snatch across his abdomen. His muscles clenched beneath her. Heat from his body radiated up through her, intensifying her own desire.

He started to reach for her. She grabbed his wrists and shoved his arms down onto the mattress. Leaning close, she narrowed her gaze at him. “I don’t recall saying you could move.”

He flexed his enormous biceps as if genuinely unable to escape her grip. “Sorry, babe. I just thought you wanted a little personal interaction.”

“I’ll let you know what I want, when I want it. Tonight I’m in charge. Got that?”

“Yes, ma’am. Anything you say.”

Without taking her eyes off his, she drew herself upright. Then slowly, tauntingly, she lifted the nighty upward to expose her hips…her stomach…her breasts… Red groaned beneath her. She could feel his pounding frustration. She knew how much he wanted to pull her to him, kiss her, throw her over and shove his big, throbbing cock into her. And god, she wanted him to do it. But tonight would be different. Tonight she’d make him wait, make herself wait. The torment, after all, was half the pleasure.

With a flourish, she cast the garment to the floor. Flickering candle light danced across his rugged features, making his demon-colored skin glow like fire. The sweet scent of vanilla drifted through her senses. She placed her hands upon his abdomen, fingers delighting to the warmth of his flesh, the hard ripple of muscle that came alive to her touch. Sensuously, her hands glided upward to the two great pectoral swells. She caressed his chest, his shoulders, traced the strange, geometric “birthmark” embossed into his right side. And the scars, poignant reminders of the danger that was so much part of his bizarre profession. She kissed each one, ran her tongue over his nipples, watched them react, felt him react to her tactile manipulations.

Leaning close, she rubbed her breasts against the hide-like skin of his chest. The sensation sent warm shivers through her body. His hands came up as if to take hold of her. She pushed them back down. “Didn’t I tell you to hold still?” she said, scowling.

His expression contorted with forced restraint. “Jesus, baby, you’re killin’ me.”

With a throaty chuckle she bent down and nuzzled his pointed ear. “You’ll survive,” she whispered. “At least long enough to get me off.”

“Yeah, that’s real comforting.” He pretended to struggle beneath her, rubbing his stomach against the wetness between her legs. “Listen, baby. How ‘bout you let me do us both a favor?”

“Such as?”

His eyes narrowed. “Come a little closer and I’ll show you.”

She shifted her weight, hovering above him, her full, naked breasts poised a fraction from his face. Her heart thundered with anticipation. “Like this…?”

“Ooooh, yeah…” His lips parted, and… Like a glistening, wet serpent, his tongue swirled around her left nipple, lashing and caressing the stiffened tip, making it tingle with exquisite fire. He did the same to the other.

Squeezing her eyes tight, she gripped the pillow on either side of his head. A moan of pleasure-frustration escaped her lips. She pressed her breasts against his mouth, expecting more, wanting more, but he refused. Damn his devil-heart! He had now become her tormentor.

Frantic with desire, she glared down at him. “Suck me!” she commanded through clenched teeth. “Suck me hard!”

His eyes turned luminous. “Whatever you say, baby.”

Moist and hot, his lips enveloped her nipple, drawing it full-force into his mouth. She let out a sharp whimper and pushed herself closer. The ache between her legs became intolerable. In desperation, she rubbed her throbbing cunt against him. Her liquid heat formed a slick coating on his stomach. Unable to stand the torment a moment longer, she slid herself backward along his body, seeking to relieve her misery at the very source of his supernatural sexual prowess. Like a pulsating pleasure missile, his cock was armed and ready. Spreading her legs wide, she pressed her clit hard against him, masturbated herself on his engorged shaft.

Something moved between her legs, something besides his dick. Christ, he’s using his tail! Surprise-excitement swirled through her as the long, leathery appendage slithered beneath her. With cunning dexterity, its prehensile tip began lashing her vaginal lips. She caught her breath sharply, closed her eyes and let the dizzying waves of pleasure wash over her. Pleasure turned to torture as it whipped the fiery clit head to new heights of maddening delight. Muscles trembling, she dug her nails into the tough skin of his belly. God, Red, I need to fuck you! I need you to fuck me!

She raised her hips. Taking the cue, he wrapped his tail around the base of his cock and held it ready for her. A moan of relief burst from her lips as she lowered herself onto him, felt his massive presence fill her, inch by exquisite inch. Her hot, musk-scented honey ran down his shaft. Slowly, tortuously, she rocked her pelvis back and forth, forcing his nub-covered dick head against her g-spot. Sheer gratification shuddered through her. Placing her hands on his broad ribcage for balance, she rode him faster, harder, driving him into her.

He tensed all over. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured gruffly. “Fuck me!”

His left hand slid below her belly, found the slippery little nubbin between her legs and gave it a tweak. Sweet agony exploded through her. Perspiration stung her flesh. Misery and ecstasy became one. She prayed for it to end…begged for it to go on forever. The pressure began to build inside her, growing, swelling until she feared she would burst. She cried out in anger, joy, desperation.

Fighting his own battle, he continued to work her clit. “C’mon, baby. Do it for Big Red. Do it!”

A tidal wave of raw sensation rose within her. Muscles clenched in preparation, she held her breath, straining to reach the summit. Oh, Jesus, she was almost there. Then suddenly—! The tip of his tail wiggled up her ass. Surprise, shock, rapture ignited the orgasmic cascade. She let out a throaty cry as the electric pulsations rocked her entire being. Senses spinning from the shimmering afterglow, she swayed. He gripped her sides to keep her from collapsing. “Hang…in there, baby. Just a…little…longer…!”

Driving her from below, he delivered the last few thrusts to finish the job. Features tight with effort, he threw his head back against the pillow and emitted a primal growl. His hot cum erupted inside her, mingling with her own fluid.
Gently, he lowered her onto his chest and kissed her. She lay there in his arms for several moments, listening to the pounding of his great heart, her body still tingling in a state of climactic bliss. His breathing deep and sated, he nuzzled her ear. “Hey, you awake?”

“I think so.”

“Wanna cuddle?”

Thoughts still hazy, she laughed. “I didn’t think big, tough guys went in for that.”

“Yeah, well, don’t spread it around, but I’m really not all that tough.”

She nestled her head against the base of his neck and smiled. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Maybe it was the euphoria of the moment, maybe it was his otherworldly magnetism. Hell, it might even have been the pizza. Whatever it was, she could no longer contain the feelings that swelled her heart. Combing her fingers through the coarse, black whiskers that cover his heavily muscled jowls, she whispered, “I love you, Red.”

With his index finger, he chucked her under the chin. “Right back attcha, kiddo.”

Dismayed, she stared at him. “‘Right back attcha?’ That’s it?”

“Aw, c’mon, Jen,” he muttered, squirming beneath her. “You know I’m no good at that touchy-feely stuff.”

No, he certainly wasn’t. When it came to talking about his feelings, this big, red, scary, monster killer was no different from any other guy. Still, there were the other things that more than made up for it. She supposed she could live with the compromise. For the time being, at least.

With a contented sigh, she settled back down upon him. “Red, do you ever think about the future?”

“You mean like colonies on the moon and android sex slaves?”

“No. I mean your future.”

“Uh-oh. You’re getting’ into that touchy-feely stuff again.” He caressed her bare shoulder. “Look, how ‘bout I let you paint my hooves instead?”

“Red, I’m serious.”

“Yeah, I know, baby,” he murmured. “It’s just that…” His chest rose and fell. “Let’s just say I’m kind’ve a here-and-now sorta guy. I take care of the business at hand. I try not to think too much about the future. ‘Spose I don’t need much more than that.”

“But you could have more. God knows you deserve more.”

“Like what? I get six meals a day, cable TV, Internet, not to mention, one hot tamale of a girlfriend. Plus, I get to punch the livin’ crap outta the occasional brain-sucking ghoul. What else is there?”

Propping her chin on her folded hands, she gazed into his strong, handsome features. “A family?”

He laughed. It was a harsh, cynical laugh. “I thought you wanted to be serious.”

“I am. I think you’d be a terrific father—all things considered.”

“Gee, thanks.” His expression turned introspective. “Truth is…there was a time… Me and Liz were…well, you know.”

“Performing ‘horizontal exorcisms’.” Another of his pet names for sex.

“Uh, yeah.” She actually thought she saw the big guy blush. “Everything seemed great. Perfect. I never thought anything could feel so—” He swallowed hard, cleared his throat. His tone softened. “Then one day she told me she thought she was pregnant. She kinda freaked out. And not in a good way. She said a bunch of stuff…” His voice trailed off into a somber void. “Turned out she wasn’t pregnant after all, but nothin’ was the same between us after that.”

Jen slipped her arms about his shoulders and kissed his face until the muscles relaxed. “I’m so sorry, Red,” she whispered.
“Funny thing is, I don’t even blame her for leaving. Hell, she was only thinkin’ of her kid’s wellbeing. A good mother’s supposed to do that, right?” He closed his eyes, seemed suddenly very tired. “Christ, what kinda life would a kid like that have growin’ up?” he murmured. “Kept in a cage, treated like a goddamn lab rat, tested, drugged, sliced, stabbed, probed every fuckin’ day of his life until he was big enough and strong enough to make them stop.”

“But Red, it wouldn’t have to be that way now. The Bureau could protect him.”

The heavy brow ridges came together, forming deep creases above his nose. “It was the Bureau that did those things to me. Why would it be different for any other anomalous child?”

Like an electric current, his anger and indignation reverberated through her own body. “What they did to you back then was cruel and insensitive. They were ignorant people. And you were so small. And alone. But you see, that’s where it would be different if it was your child. He’d have a father to take care of him. And a mother.”

He peered down his nose at her. “Why this sudden interest in a kid that doesn’t even exist? Unless…” His jaw went slack, features stark with disbelief. “Jesus Christ, Jen, don’t tell me you’re—!”

The note of panic in his voice set her back. “N-no. I mean, I don’t think so. Probably not.” Then, shoring her courage, she managed a trembling smile. “Well…maybe. My pills ran out three months ago, and I never…”

“Aw, crap.” With a groan, he pressed his hand over his eyes and sank back onto the mattress. “Jesus, Jen, do you know what you’ve done?”

Just when she didn’t think she could feel any worse, he drew her into his powerful embrace and kissed her tenderly. With a smile this time, he whispered, “Do you know what you’ve done?”

Tears of joy sprang to her eyes. “Yeah. I got knocked up by the greatest guy in the whole freakin’ universe.”

He shook his head and sighed. “Hey, did I ever mention that I love you?”

With her index finger, she chucked him under the chin. “Right back attcha, big guy.”

The End