Breathe Into Me

By: Nikki Drost

Prologue



I cautiously stretch in a bed that’s not mine, mindful not to wake its sleeping occupants. A soft moan emerges from my left. I turn to see a beautiful brunette. Her arm is casually thrown over my chest. I turn to my right to find an equally beautiful red head. What were their names again? Hell, it doesn’t matter. I won’t see them again anyways. I gently begin the tedious task of removing the arms and legs that are strewn around me. I crawl out of bed and grab my pants. As I quickly dress, I take another glance at the sleeping women I had just pleasured. Just like the rest of the occupants in this house, they are young, beautiful, and wealthy.

The group of them had been celebrating their last few days of freedom before classes started and had insisted on taking the five of us home. In typical fashion, the girls hadn’t asked us anything more than our names. “They never do.” I sigh. I know I shouldn’t complain. Most men have to put a little effort into picking up a woman. Luckily, for me I’m a good-looking male with a body to match, but just once, I’d like to have an actual conversation with a female before we got naked. If I were being honest, I’d give anything to romance a woman. All I have to do is smile, maybe utter a few naughty promises and women instantly drop to their knees. I miss the days when women would play hard to get. It made the sex that much more worthwhile. Now I just feel empty, used, and I fucking hate it. I want something more, but for males like my brothers and me there are no other options.

Another thought crosses my mind as I pull my shirt over my head. It would have been so easy to take advantage of these girls if we had wanted to. Humans are so naive and trusting. It never occurs to them that we could be anything other than what we appear to be. Foolish humans, if they only knew how much danger they were in just by being seen with us. Being so trusting is one of the reasons why they are such easy prey. They make it too easy for our enemies to get to them. If we had been the bad guys we could have easily over powered these women and made them do anything that we wanted before we took their lives. I blame Hollywood for this. It’s as if the entire world has become desensitized, and decided to throw caution to the wind. Don’t women watch horror movies? Didn’t anyone teach them that going home with strange men could be dangerous? It shouldn’t matter if the guy seems nice or how amazing his ass looks in a pair of jeans.

I wonder what they would do if they found out they had just had sex with shape-shifters. I bet that would blow their minds. Although with the hype from some recent movies about werewolves, they might not have minded at all. At least I don’t have to worry about being asked if I sparkle, that must really piss off the vampires of the world. I chuckle to myself as I lean over the sleeping forms in the adjacent bed to wake my brother.

Jamie Trudeau’s athletic body is surrounded by naked flesh and golden hair. Someday I’ll have to ask him about his obsession with blondes. His god like body is littered with colorful tattoos and several piercings. He also possesses one of the quickest tempers I’ve ever seen. He can go from nice guy to dickhead in three seconds flat, but he is one hell of a guy to have in your corner. And whether he’s sporting his trademark Mohawk or not, woman seem to go crazy when they see him, to some he is the ultimate bad boy fantasy.

“Damn kid what time it is?” his gravely voice echo’s off the walls.

“Let’s just say we should’ve left hours ago.” As it is, we’ll be lucky to be out of here before the sun comes up. None of us has ever spent the night with a woman. We usually have our fun and then leave once the sex is over.

“Shit, throw me my pants.” Jamie removes himself from the sleeping limbs and joins me at the foot of the bed. Once he’s dressed, we start on our search for the rest of our pack. We find Cass passed out on top of a pool table; his muscular body is covered by three coeds. Casanova Bouchard looks like an all-American boy next-door with golden hair, turquoise eyes, and square jaw. All he has to do is smile at a woman and she’s putty in his hands.

“Cass lets go,” I say as I try to locate his pants.

“Morning bro, that was some party huh?” he chuckles. I ignore his cheerful manner and throw his pants at his head. Leaving Jamie to deal with Cass I walk through the sliding glass door into the backyard. I find the last of my brothers passed out on the grass. I make my way through the sea of empty bottles, red cups and used condoms, gross. I nudge Micah awake with the tip of my motorcycle boot. Sapphire colored eyes look up at me.

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