Croc and the Fox (18 page)

Muahahahaha
hahahahahaha.” The laughter started small, then increased in treble as the mastermind double, then tripled, then quadrupled in size.

Blinking, Viktor tried to mentally grasp the entity before him. A cross between a squirrel, a pygmy shrew – which for the uninformed was a cross between a mole and a tiny mouse – and a whole lot of monstrous Hyde, the mastermind burst out of her human skin into a veritable monster, replete with fangs, red eyes and a size on par with an elephant.

Unfortunately, the corridor wasn’t meant for giant sized shifters and plaster rained down as the mastermind, tail slashing, arms thrashing, made room for her bulk. The haze of dust kickstarted a chain of coughing and blinking as the FUC agents fought to breathe and see through the debris-caused murk.

Viktor didn’t even have a chance to yell a warning to his vixen before a muscled tail, with a wicked barb on the end, wrapped around his middle, pinning his arms and sweeping him off the floor.

“Viktor!” He heard Renee’s shrill cry, but he couldn’t shout at her to run because he lacked the breath to do so, the crushing pressure on his rib cage stronger than he could fight. He tried to call his beast, even a half shift, but without oxygen, the most he managed was a spattering of scales.

Spots danced in front of his eyes and he wanted to curse the unfairness of dying when he’d just found out Renee loved him.

A roar shook the walls and he turned in time to see a bundle of red fur dive onto the mastermind’s monstrous body. Once again, his fox came to his rescue. Good thing he was secure in his masculinity or he’d really have something to prove. On second thought, he’d schedule extra target practice next week on the range.

The tail released him and he tumbled to the floor. He didn’t allow himself a chance to assess the damage to his ribs. Springing immediately to his feet, he cast a quick glance around for a weapon. Even he knew his croc was no match for the giant sized villainess, and Renee needed him.

“Viktor. Catch!” Miranda shouted and he whirled to catch the gun she tossed his way.
Spinning, he narrowed his eyes, focused on the tussling bodies causing havoc down the hall. Gashes scored Renee’s body, bloody tears that turned his blood even colder than usual. He aimed, entering the zone. He fired. Once. Twice.
The red eyed, hybrid squirrel went limp, not that it stopped Renee from taking a bite and shaking her head with her mouthful. Then, with a toss of her massive, furry red head, she trotted back toward him, and he grinned. Damn, she was beautiful. And big. He’d have to make sure he stayed on her good side and took out the garbage. He wasn’t sure he’d win in a wrestling match.
Plopping herself down in front of him, his vixen cocked her head and blinked her enormous golden eyes. A big tongue emerged to swipe him and Viktor grimaced. “We are going to have to talk about that.”
Because he’d really rather she saved the licking for when it was the two of them, alone, and in human form. Then they could take turns.
Of course, pleasures of the erotic sort would have to wait until she managed to change back, which was hopefully soon seeing as how the commotion probably had the humans freaking on the lowers floors and the emergency departments for the city on their way.
Chaos ensued as they huddled and fleshed out a story. While Viktor managed to convince his fox to switch back by promising to let her ride cowgirl when they got home, they didn’t have as much luck with the mastermind. In death, she retained her last shape, monstrous creation gone horribly wrong.
The authorities showed up and playing the part of terrified guests, the entire FUC gang along with Renee and her mother all stuck to the story that the creature came out of nowhere, scaring the hell out of them.
Damned sewer rats. They just kept getting bigger and bigger.
It didn’t take long to escape the baffled cops, and with Madame Renarde sent to stay with Kloe for the night, Miranda hopping off with her hubby in tow because she needed some cheesecake to celebrate and Mason (who cared what that bear did?), it left Viktor alone at last with his vixen.
He couldn’t get them home quick enough. She chattered the whole way.
“So do you think the police bought the story about it being some mutant rat?”
“They don’t know what to believe.”
“Won’t they know when they test the corpse’s DNA

though?”“It will never get that far. We have people in the right

places to make sure the paperwork gets changed and the body accidentally cremated. In forty eight hours, the mastermind will cease to exist and our secret will be safe.”

“Sooooo,” she drew out the word. “Now what?”

Careening into the parking garage, and swerving into his spot, he didn’t immediately reply. He jumped out of the loaner van, crossed over to her side and hauled her into his arms. When she would have spoken, he covered her lips with his.

“Mmmm.” She hummed her appreciation.

But he wanted her screaming. Just not in the elevator where cameras watched. He contented himself with kissing her, pouring all of his feelings into the embrace. The fear he’d felt when he entered the hotel suite and saw Madame Renarde laid out on the floor, the helpless fury when he’d seen the goons point their guns at her head, his determination to save her at any cost, even his own life, and finally, pride in her because she loved him so much she took on the evil creature who tortured her for years.

Mixed in with all those emotions, he injected his love. Love for a red haired vixen who’d latched onto him with both hands – and sometimes even her legs – and wouldn’t let go. She showed him what his life was missing. Her.

Entering his condo, he undressed Renee one-handed, the other balancing her against him. She giggled at his frenzy, but it also excited her, he discovered, when his hands slid between her thighs to find her slick and ready.

He tossed her on his bed and made quick work of his own garments, but when he would have crawled between her legs and feasted on her, she rolled away.

“Stop right there, crocodile. Someone promised me

 

cowgirl.”“You remember that? I thought you didn’t remember

anything when the fox took over?”
“I don’t. Or didn’t, but for some reason, I distinctly
recall you saying if I changed back, you’d teach it to me.” “Screw teaching. Nothing like hopping on top and
learning from experience,” he replied with a toothy grin. He
stretched out on the bed, his cock jutting from his hips, loving
how she perused him with glazed eyes.
She licked her lips and he twitched. “Save that for later.
I want to be inside you. Now.”
“Am I going to have to add impatience to your ornery

nature?”“How about insatiable, too, where you’re concerned,” he

growled pulling her until she fell atop him. He caught her lips again and wouldn’t let her pull away as she positioned herself over him. Her damp sex pressed against his lower stomach, and tension coiled inside him in anticipation of what would happen next. Sly vixen, she took her sweet time, lifting her bottom and dangling it over his cock, letting the tip of him brush her wet folds, but not sheathing him.

“Tease,” he muttered against her lips.
“There goes that impatience again.”
“We’ll see how long your patience lasts when I torture

you later.”
“Promise?” she whispered.
“Anything you want. In case you haven’t noticed, I can’t

resist you.”
“Even though we can’t have babies?” She’d admitted it
to him while they waited for the cops to release them. He’d told
her then he didn’t care, but it didn’t hurt to reassure her. “I have more than enough nieces and nephews we can
borrow. And there’s always adoption.”
“Or it could just be the two us. I think I’d like to have
you all to myself.”
“Well, you might have to loan me out once in a while for

work.”“Maybe.” Sitting down on him hard, encasing his cock in

 

one fell swoop, he yelled and fisted the sheets. He heard her murmur, in a low growl, “Mine.”

Grasping her hips, he helped her rock on top of him, catching her golden gaze with his own. “Yes, yours. I love you.”
“Forever?”
“Even when I’m old and gray,” he stated.
“Despite the fact my fox can kick your croc’s ass?” she gasped, her fingers digging into his chest.
“Because you think you can.”
She threw her head back and laughed as she rode him, a mirth that turned into pants of pleasure, then a cry of ecstasy as she came apart over him, on him. It was glorious.
Perfect.
Mine.
Forever…

Epilogue

Days later, after the quickest wedding in FUC history…
Toasty warm against Viktor’s chest, mostly because her cold blooded husband built a huge fire, Renee – who found the name Viktor gave her more familiar than her birth name, Monique – sighed happily.
“What was that for?” Viktor asked cracking open an eye to peruse her.
“I can’t believe we’re on our honeymoon.”
“Neither can I,” he admitted in a wry tone.
“And thank goodness we lied about where we were honeymooning. I thought we’d never shake my mother. I didn’t know someone could cry so much.”
His chest rumbled with mirth. “You think yours was bad? I didn’t know mine could cry at all. My getting married was

not

 

that

 

shocking.”

Renee snickered. “Tell that to the five hundred bucks I won in the office pool saying you wouldn’t.”
“Sly fox.”
“Just living up to my roots.” She laughed and ran a finger down his chest. The tip of it stopped at the edge of his newest scar. “Do you think it’s really over?”
Viktor caught her hand and lifted it so he could place a kiss in the center. “The mastermind is gone. Her laboratories dismantled. The only thing you need to fear is…” He paused as if in thought. “Actually, I’ll kill anything that scares you. I don’t ever want to go through that kind of worry again.”
“Me either. And just so you know, if anything ever threatens, or dares to flirt with you, I’ll probably eat it.” “Because you’re a bottomless pit.”
“Am not,” she giggled.
Okay, maybe she was, but lucky for her, she’d found a man who could cook up a storm, in and out of the bedroom. But his greatest skill of all – which almost tied with his ability to always hit the bulls-eye – was the love he held for her no matter her shape.
In the human world, the only time a croc and a fox got together was when a rich society matron carried one as a purse and the other as a fur stole. But in her world, the world of shifters, anything was possible, even a love between cold blooded and hot.
Or as Miranda liked to call them, Fozard. Which made no sense but drove Viktor nuts. And a Viktor ranting and raving was a lizard with his blood running hot. Yum.

*

The three a.m. phone call saw the good doctor shifting a snoring female body off him, and crawling over another. When the pride partied, no male lion ever went home alone, or with a single girl, whether he liked it or not.

Reaching his phone, he noted the FUC safe house number and answered. “Doctor Manners. What’s wrong?”
“It’s Fred.”
“Fred who?”
“I’m one of the guards working the night shift at the safe house. You need to get over here, pronto. You know those folks we rescued?”
“Yeah. What about them? Is one of them having a seizure again?” Nolan asked as he located his pants and pulled them on.
“Kind of.”
A bang echoed through the phone’s receiver and he

frowned.“What was that?”

“One of your patients. Something’s happening to them. They’ve gone crazy.” The caller’s breathing quickened in panic. “They’re rampaging. The night nurse and the guard stationed with her are dead. I can’t reach any of the others on duty. They’ve smashed the cameras so I can’t see.”

Bang! Bang! The reverberating sound of impact came through loud enough to mask the caller’s frightened gasps.
_spine.
“What’s happening?” Nolan asked, icy fear tickling his

“Shit. They’re attacking the door.”

The sound of the phone receiver hitting a hard surface didn’t prevent Nolan from hearing the guard say, “Gary, get your gun out.”

Nolan could only listen in stunned disbelief as the pounding increased, and then the more worrisome screech of bending metal came to his ears. As he texted FUC’s main emergency line, he listened to the chaos. The snarling. The gun shots. The gurgling screams of terror.

Then the silence, the most worrisome sound of all. About to hang up, he jumped when a sibilant voice whispered into the phone. “Hello?”

A chill spread through him. “Who is this?”
“Who wants to know?” was the gruff rejoinder. “It’s Doctor Manners.”
“Oh, hello, doc-tor. How nice of you to call. Won’t you

come and play? We’re so awfully hungry and you always did smell so good.”

No more Axe spray before work. Hell, maybe he’d skip showering too. “It sounds like you guys are in a spot of trouble. Let me help you.”

“A doc-tor helping? As if.” A bark of disdain followed.

Surely the victims the FUC team rescued saw the difference between the care from him and his staff compared to the torture suffered during their captivity. “I’ve never hurt you,” Nolan said.

“You might not have hurt us like the rest, but you smell like
them.
We’ll be seeing each other soon, doc-tor. Bloody soon.” Crazy laughter, echoed by others in various pitches echoed shrilly from his ear pierce. Click. Dial tone.

Shit. That didn’t bode well. Not well at all.

 

The End

 

(For now…Stay tuned for the next FUC story coming in 2013)
Author Biography