Spooktacular Day 19: Short Story & Giveaway with author Eve Langlais

I originally wrote this little erotic piece for a Halloween Blog promo back in 2010 when I was still a newbie. I thought I’d freshen it up and give it a second chance at being read because I freely admit, I’m still scared of the monster under my bed. Enjoy.

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            “There’s nothing to be scared of. Nothing to be scared of. Monsters don’t exist.” Yeah right. I said the words aloud, as my psychiatrist suggested, but they didn’t make me feel any braver.

            How pathetic am I? Almost thirty and still scared of the dark. Not just the dark, the space under my bed, spiders, windows without curtains at night, strangers… To say I had anxiety issues was putting it mildly. My phobias were why I began seeing a shrink a few months ago at the behest of my boyfriend. I hated how my fear ruled me, especially when my live in boyfriend had to work out of town and night fell.

            Tonight was the big test, though, the moment of truth where I would discover if my hundreds of dollars spent on therapy were worth the tightening of my financial belt.

            And my doctor -- that sadistic bastard -- had chosen the worst of nights to test me. ‘A true measure’ he said of my progress. So here I was, alone on Halloween, just after eleven pm, steeling myself to brave the night and the bogey man -- and yes he existed. No amount of therapy could convince me that creature of nightmare didn’t live under my bed when he wasn’t haunting my closet of course.

I readied myself by brushing my teeth vigorously. I combed my hair a hundred strokes. I scrubbed my face clean. I peed and washed my hands. I delayed as long as I could, but I could hear the phantom voices of my parents in my head screaming, AStop screwing around and get to bed.@ They’d never understood my terror. They’d even laughed when they took my night light away and told me to be to stop being such a baby. Luckily I possessed a flashlight as backup for those terrifying times.

With heavy feet, I walked to the gaping bathroom door. From the light projecting past my body into the bedroom, I could see my innocuous room with its walls painted a light mauve with white scalloped curtains. The light, honey hued furniture. The framed pictures of colorful flowers bathed in sunshine. I’d made the space as bright and inviting as possible. Only one thing marred it for me. The bed, against my wishes—my damned boyfriend scoffing at my phobia—sat inches above the floor, the treacherous gap covered by a flimsy skirt. Hidden or not, I knew it was there, that dark, evil space where the bogey man hid.

I repeated my mantra. “There’s nothing to be scared of.” Yeah right. I looked down at my pale toes peeking out from beneath my nightgown and wiggled them. How many will I have left if they’re wrong I wonder?

No matter what my parents, my shrink and even my boyfriend said, I knew about the monster under the bed. Everyone knew it existed even if they pretended otherwise. I learned at a young age there were ways of keeping the bogey man away; nightlights, sharing a room, for others passing into adulthood, and the best recourse, avoid having any space underneath the bed.

Silly childhood fantasies, nightmares I should have outgrown. I am a grown woman now and there’s nothing to fear but fear itself.

I flicked off the bathroom light and plunged the room into darkness. My heart sped up. My palms grew damp. My mouth dried up. I listened. Thick silence coated the room. No heavy breathing or creaking. No malicious cackles or odd brimstone like smells. Nothing to fear.

I took a tentative step forward, ready to scream at the first scaly touch.

Nothing happened. I slid my other foot forward, the dim glow from the streets lights outside giving me just enough illumination to see the large bed looming a few feet away. In my mind, it seemed closer to a mile.

I wanted to run and leap into the safety of my covers. I wanted to race back to the bathroom and turn on the light, dispelling the shadows.

I did neither. With measured steps, I approached my bed until I stood about a foot away from the skirt, just twelve measly inches between me and the gap under the bed that I feared so much.

One deep breath for courage and…I couldn’t move.

What if they’re wrong?

The litany of things that could happen ran through my mind and while a part of me understood it was my fear speaking, it literally froze me. Paralyzed me just inches from the safety of my bed. Wouldn’t my therapist, my family and friends scoff to see me. Too scared to climb into my own bed. Even I could admit how ridiculous that sounded. “There’s nothing there,” I said aloud before taking that last step.

“Oh yes there is,” replied a gravelly voice as a pair of cold hands grabbed my ankles and yanked.

My ass hit the floor hard cutting off my scream before it could break glass with its shrill terror. The iron grip on my ankles pulled me into the maw under my bed and I scrambled frantically, my hands looking for purchase but finding nothing on the smooth hardwood floors.

Before I could take a deep breath and cry to the world how wrong they all were, I was yanked down a cold hole and mercifully passed out.

Eventually I woke up, blinking at the dark pressing all around me. I shivered, not just in fear, but cold too. Lying on stone would do that to a person. But at least I was alive and given the lack of pain, uninjured I assumed. For how long, though, that was the true question.

I heard the rustling of someone—probably a big nasty something given my location--and peered wildly at the black space that hid from view the bogey man who’d abducted me. Where was my mother or even my stupid therapist when my moment to say, ‘I told you so’ finally arrived? And why did being right have to come at my expense?

More movement sounded, closer than before. I swallowed hard and managed to squeak, “Who are you? What do you want?”

“I want what I’ve been waiting for.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will. In time. Welcome to your new home,” said the gruff voice of the bogey man who stole me, his cool breath whispering on my neck. I shivered, my fear choking me.

With a ripping sound, my nightgown was torn from my body and I finally managed a small scream which made the monster chuckle.

“I’ve waited a long time for you,” he said as his cold hands lightly brushed against my skin.

“Why me?”

“Because you are mine. Mine all mine,” he murmured, the cool caress of his words tickling over my pebbled skin.

“But I don’t want to belong to you. I want to go home.” I felt no shame at my plaintive plea. I only spoke the truth, but he laughed.

“You are home.” Hands, chilled like marble, ran over my skin leaving behind goosebumps. I trembled again, but this time not just in fear. To my incredulity, my body responded to his touch. My nipples peaked in invitation. Traitors. I whimpered as he brushed them, then pinched them. I wanted to protest, but my words stuck in my mouth and emerged only as a gasp as he enveloped a taut bud in a mouth whose very lack of heat seemed to emphasize the growing temperature of my body.

How could I enjoy it? How could I let this monster touch me without a fight? Perhaps he’d drugged me, or done some wild magic, something, because I couldn’t deny I enjoyed his touch, his caress. Heat pooled in my lower tummy. Arousal moistened my cleft.

This can’t be t happening. Yet it was and worse, I enjoyed it. I arched against the lips sucking my buds. Clawed at the stone slab at my back all the while staring into darkness. My breath came in short pants and moans, especially when those torturous lips moved south on my body, leaving a trail of frost on my skin that immediately melted, the fire within in me making my flesh feverish.

Mindless with this strange pleasure, I didn’t even think to protest when he spread my thighs. On the contrary, I welcomed him with a wantonness I’d never known as his lips caressed my inner thigh. Then, my sex. I screamed at the flick of his tongue, so icy on my clit. It didn’t hurt. Oh no. His expert touch, his circling and sucking caress instead catapulted me into an orgasm so quickly, I didn’t even have time to brace myself. But he didn’t stop, even as my channel convulsed in wave after wave of pleasure, he tasted me, tortured me, showed me delights I’d never imagined…or felt.

I’d always assumed I was just one of those women who would never enjoy sex. Who just didn’t have it in her to fully let go. How wrong I was. And he, the one I feared most, showed me what delight truly was.

A smooth, hairless form pressed itself against mine, a very male body that nudged at the apex of my thighs as big hands cupped and kneaded my shivering body. On fire, I welcomed his chilled, marbled flesh. Felt the hard ridge of his muscles as he wrapped his body around me. His smell was like a cold winter breeze, refreshing and crisp.

With the scent of me still upon them, his lips touched mine. I sighed into his mouth as he thrust in to me, long, thick and icy, a perfect complement for the heat burning me up inside. I met his movements with tilted hips, my fingers digging into his back, my tongue weaving with his as our bodies rocked together in the darkness. Despite my recent climax, I felt my body tightening again, coiling and squeezing him, welcoming him deep inside.

My second orgasm stole all my breath. My mind. My voice. For a single moment, I existed only in a rapturous place, my heart beating in time to his. Our bodies twined so close I couldn’t have said where one began and the other ended.

When the thudding of my heart returned to normal and my body lay, spooned against his in sated relaxation, he snapped his fingers.

Hundreds of candles suddenly lit with a whoosh and my eyes blinked against the sudden brightness. I couldn’t deny an eagerness to see my mystery lover. Eventually the spots before my eyes dissipated, but how I wished the darkness had remained, for when I saw the creature who had made my body sing with such delight, I screamed.

And screamed, my hysterical cries echoing around the vast chamber until my mind finally showed me mercy, and I passed out.

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Happy Halloween folks and tonight when you turn out the lights be sure to make a running leap to the safety of your covers, lest you too be abducted and pleasured by the bogey man under your 

bed.

 Lucky him, he found his mate. Just one teensy, tiny problem. She was already married to someone else.

Meeting the woman of his dreams would have worked a lot better if she didn’t already belong to another man. But Chris wasn’t about to let something like ‘until death do us part’ keep him from claiming his woman. He’ll do anything to win his mate, including throwing his attractive cousin at the pesky husband.

Despite the danger, and her marital status, Jiao can’t help falling for a handsome wolf. Honor says she should stay away, but her curious inner cat is flexing her claws and demanding they claim their man.

But Jiao isn’t the only one falling in love. When her husband finds himself head over heels with a she-wolf, will Sheng do the right thing and end the marriage sham? Or will the past catch up first and bite them?

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Freakn' Shifters series (each can be read as a stand alone):
Book #1 Delicate Freakn' Flower
Book #2 Jealous And Freakn'
Book #3 Already Freakn' Mated
Book #4 Human and Freakn' (Nov/Dec 2012)

Eve is giving away two prizes so there will be two winners. First winner gets a ebook copy of Already Freakn' Mated and it's international. The seond winner gets a t-shirt and this one is US/Canada only due to shipping costs. Just leave a comment including whether your international, US or Canada.

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